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#dealer!reader
kokomos · 2 months
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 ✴    ⅱ.    new habits die hard     ࣭     ๋  𖥔 ݁  ˖  ‏☽
— starring    AU!  LUKE CASTELLAN !  ♆
  ⤷    ⅰ.   new habits die hard
MDNI 18+
warning : weed! luke & reader smoke together.
alternate universe : takes place in an au! where there are no gods, or demigods for that matter. luke lives with his mother, alone, and takes care of her full-time when he's not off doing odd jobs for the locals.
description : after moving several states away from his home in suburban connecticut, luke found himself in unfamiliar territory and in need of a new plug. lucky for him, you're the town's resident drug dealer.
tags : fem! reader, dealer! reader, loser! luke, au! luke; dom! reader kinda, subby! luke; luke can't handle his weed.
honey's note : somehow this got turned into a slow–burn? next part will contain more action, promise <3
it hadn't been a full week since luke castellan, new to town, stopped by your trailer to get his fix. it seemed out of the question that the plug he'd be buying from would be you. even as he neared the residence for the first time four days ago, impressions formed based on the unkept and rather disastrous front lawn, nothing would have him guessing a girl would be the one behind it all.
his neighbor's son, a permanently befuddled teen who luke deemed ‘nice enough’, offered up your contact as soon as the older boy mentioned smoking. he certainly wasn't your wisest customer, that's a given, but you know he meant well and there's no denying that he definitely did you a service despite his impetuosity.
a few messages are exchanged between you and luke prior to his arrival. you pick the time, telling him to swing by around eleven—it’s later than he cares for, his mother always advised him against driving late at night, but he’ll oblige without a second thought if you're the one asking.
in all honesty, luke didn't even need to pick up more bud—the surplus he underpaid for had only diminished by a gram or so, less than two. still, he wanted to see you again. something in his heart was telling him that it was a necessity  not a desire; that you couldn't be separated from actions taken in the name of self-preservation. though, luke wasn't dauntless enough to tell you the truth and he certainly didn't have the confidence to back it up either, so he'd keep that to himself—just for now.
his hands were trembling slightly as he hobbled up the stairs, across the makeshift porch, to reach the front door. even the very tips of his fingers couldn't conceal the fact that his heart was racing.
luke was quick to note that the steps were broken; shoddy craftsmanship combined with neglect over time—the same treatment that the rest of the property had received. for a moment his mind wandered and he thought about how he could fix them up for you; he could fix up a lot of things around this janky, old plot. there's no way he would even think to charge you for the labor, though he has a feeling you'd insist anyway. a payment from your finest stash, luke surmises. but that was neither here nor there, and he needed to prepare himself to greet you.
his right hand forms a fist before connecting with the frame of the door. he knocks twice before adding one more for good measure, a pace behind the other two in uniform.
the crooked door swings open, and there you stand. luke had already been wearing a flare on his cheeks, but it only intensified further at the sight of you in a pair of pajamas. tight short-shorts and a simple tee.
“hey,” you welcome him so casually it makes him feel like a fool for being so nervous. he has no time to properly greet you as planned, instead providing a remarkably sheepish smile as you move a bit to the side, beckoning him through the doorway. “you comin’ in?”
of course he is.
he complies in an instant, more or less meek in appearance as he glides past you. luke takes a few steps away from the entrance of your home, and plants his feet firmly into the warped hardwood of the living room, turning his attention to you in wait.
“so, you smoke a lot or did’ya have to supply your friends some?” you ask after closing the front door shut. the question is brought about with an air of nonchalance, though that does very little to calm his nerves.
he chuckles, feeling both caught off guard and put on the spot. “uh—,” he clears his throat as his eyes flicker to yours. “yeah,” he falters for a moment before finishing with forced conviction, “i kinda smoke a lot i guess.”
you shrug it off, giving him the benefit of the doubt, though there isn't much belief in your expression. “sure,” you dismiss, “come sit with me.”
there's not much room for luke to debate. your feet are already in motion and you brush right by him to cross the space, path set for the sofa. luke follows and takes the seat beside you, sinking into the cushion with visible unease. he makes an attempt to get comfortable, and fails, unable to decide where he should put his hands. after several moments and careful consideration, he decides on extending his palms to rest over the expanse of his jeans. in the same moment, you prop the heels of your feet up onto the table in front of the couch, angling your legs into view for the nervous wreck to your right. a small sigh of content draws his attention from the sleek skin of your thighs towards your rosey lips.
that smirk you've formed causes some alarm and his nerves flare up once more. “have you never seen shaved legs or something?” you enunciate each word in your query, goading him into a more playful mood.
his cheeks flush, and he feels like a fool for the second time tonight—must be a skill of yours. tearing his gaze away, he lets out a shaky breath, one that he'd been holding in since he first took that spot next to you. “sorry,” his speech stalls and his eyes warily meet yours again. “i wasn't trying to…” he staggers off, hoping you get the memo—which you do. but there's no fun in not teasing the boy, especially when he's just so easy.
“to perv on me?” you finish for him, smirk left unrestrained and etched into your face.
his eyes widen, slowly leaving yours, and his head shakes from side to side. “i would never,” he stammers quickly to plead his defense.
“i'm just fucking with you,” you reassure him, light-hearted words paired with a jaunty wink. it wouldn't be fair if you were to chastise the boy for simply looking your way, certainly not after the last time he made your acquaintance—and you were doing far more than just looking at him.
you draw your legs back, letting your heels hit the floor, before reaching for some supplies laid out on the table. you unscrew the top of the grinder, unveiling the packed chamber. a whole glut of green and purple tints. your fingers pinch some of the ground weed and you begin filling the bowl for the bong—both crafted from pink glass and marked by hearts. suddenly, your efforts cease and you turn your head to catch his eyes.
“you wanna stay to smoke, right?” you smile a bit ingratiatingly.
luke immediately nods his head; and you have to stop yourself from laughing at the sight. instead you opt for returning your focus to the task at hand, finishing up and placing the bowl in the stem.
“guests first,” you offer the bong out with a grin luke could only describe as endearing; a contrast to the mischievous curve your mouth usually carries.
there's only one thing replaying in luke’s mind as he reaches out to take the glass from your hands.
don't embarrass yourself, don't embarrass yourself, don't—
he flashes a quick, grateful smile for your hospitality. “thank you,” he mumbles, ignoring the unabated warning currently clouding his thoughts.
your pupils dilate the moment his lips wrap around the same piece you'd had your own two lips on not twenty minutes earlier. such a natural, you praise him without a word. he pulls a hit from the bong with ease, yet coughs on the exhale. the glass, with the bowl still lit and burning through the remainder of the green, is mindlessly passed towards you as he desperately tries to compose himself.
a snicker escapes your throat. instinctively, your hand reaches over the middle of his back and you pat a few beats to aid his efforts. “you okay?” amusement accompanies your concern.
by now, luke was entirely out of sorts; but your chaste touch, an attempt to soothe the discomfort from the smoke infiltrating his lungs, was enough to make him catch his breath and hold it. “luke?” you inquire, curious about his condition.
“i’m fine,” he tries to laugh it off, flustered by more than just the way his name rolls off your tongue. his head turns your direction and for the first time, he makes real eye contact with you—not just for a brief few moments before he inevitably glances away.
a smile lifts your cheeks slightly and you retract your hand from his back. much to his disappointment, you break the contact in favor of taking your own hit from the bong.
there's a few more exchanges of the glass back-and-forth before luke taps out. you hadn't realized he saw each offer of your generosity as some sort of competition between the two of you, to see how much he could handle.
he's melted into the back of your couch, eyes fluttering shut. cute. you’re feeling the effects of that friendly contest too—not as much as he is, evidently. years of smoking every day, all day, granted you a higher tolerance for the substance, and the opportunity to tease your client. “do you have something to prove?” you titter with delight.
“hm ?” luke hums, tilting his chin to view your face instead of the wall he'd been zoning out on.
“i asked if you had something to prove,” you restate plainly. “you know you didn't have to keep up with me, yeah?”
you're drinking in the look on his face by the bucketful. lips parted as his mind whirls, searching for an answer to a question he's already forgotten—“huh ?” his voice comes out more soft and airy than you've recently been accustomed to, not that you'd ever complain about that.
“nevermind, man. just, uh—” you stifle a snicker, holding back from full-on laughing in his face, “—take it easy.”
he mumbles something in confirmation, ‘okay’ it sounded like, and allows his eyes to rest once more.
“sleepy?” you coo, applying a tone one might use on a child rather than the man luke was trying to portray himself as.
he manages a faint chuckle, but barely opens his eyes to respond. “mhm ,” he murmurs, with a dopey grin on his face.
you square your shoulders, leaning against the back of the couch with your thighs flat against the cushioning. “you wanna lay your head down?” you simper.
the weed had mitigated some of luke’s anxiety, and his inhibitions were at an all-time low. “sure,” he agrees, unwavering for a change.
a couple pats drummed on the upper portion of your leg coax him closer. without delay, he kicks his feet up and stretches across the sofa until he's properly situated on his side. with his left cheek now pressed into your thigh, you can feel the soft hum of contentment contained behind his lips. your hand reaches out towards him, fingers seeking refuge in the soft curls atop his head. it doesn't take more than a few minutes for your eyelids to grow heavy, and a small yawn signals the inevitable. when the clock strikes twelve in the trailer, all is silent—apart from the snoring of you and the customer you forgot to sell to.
ᡣ𐭩   with love , honey
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genocidehim · 1 year
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Tuco making the moves on a shy curvy girl he sees at the resteraunt/at a bar; pt. 2 to ur first Tuco oneshot? 💖💖💖
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notes: reader is female, curvy reader, insecurities mentioned, common male behavior????? words: 1840
It was supposed to be a meeting at a bar/restaurant but writing this at 4 am just it slipped my mind. An apology, I'm very absent-minded. this is the second part of this one-shot
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The meetings with Nacho and Tuco were becoming more frequent as you and Domingo increased profits from the drug distribution, and with it came the endless sessions where the four shared silent glances until Tuco was convinced enough to let them go.
It was a constant and strange game to which you seemed to have become accustomed. Your shy gaze had found a way to not pay much attention to Tuco, who seemed to be increasingly interested in you and how your body was beginning to obsess him.
Tuco was not the type of man who hid his thoughts, but he didn't shout them from the rooftops either. One day he confided in Nacho, when he seemed sober and no drugs were interfering with his thoughts; How the girl Domingo brought every week was catching his attention, how that shy vendor was getting under his skin without even talking to him and how he couldn't stop thinking about her body.
Nacho seemed somewhat disoriented by this type of confession and even more so because Tuco normally didn't seem to obsess over women. With other things, yes, and he would reach the point of unhealthy obsession, but never with women and especially not with young girls like you. During that week, Nacho hinted that Domingo and you were invited to accompany them to one of the game nights where the smaller dealers of the Salamanca gang gathered to chat, drink, and gamble while playing poker. And in the need to be validated by your superiors, you decided to accept and accompany Domingo that Saturday night.
Undoubtedly, it was very difficult for you to be the only young woman in that place and not feel insecure in the presence of so many dangerous men who, to your surprise, did not seem interested in bothering you, but quite the opposite, they were focused on making jokes and teasing Domingo. With you, they were almost respectful, which was already strange.
You thought it would be an uncomfortable night, but everything seemed to be quite normal. The smoke from tobacco and marijuana entered your system, the alcohol from the beer you were drinking began to ferment inside your head, and everything looked much lighter, even making you a little more relaxed and able to talk normally with the other men.
What you didn't know is that they had all received a threat from Tuco before you arrived at the meeting. A threat that froze the blood of more than one.
The orders were clear; not to bother his girl. And Tuco seemed like a wild animal silently observing his prey while surrounded by potential enemies. He felt possessive, as if he had assumed that just by existing, you already belonged to him despite not having talked to you enough. He didn't care if you weren't interested in him, that was just a matter of time, he knew that one way or another you would be.
But he was wrong, you were interested in him.
During the night, your eyes would meet his for a couple of seconds and it always ended up the same way. A strange dynamic where you tried to maintain eye contact, but his intensity always made you look away. Once you even tried to give him a half-smile while playing poker, but he didn't react at all and you started to believe that he wasn't happy about having you there with them that night.
However, the others seemed happy with your presence, even more so when you started to stand out in the poker games and your small pockets began to fill with the money won in bets.
"What damn trick are you using, girl?" No-Doze commented as he threw his cards on the table in defeat, giving you a playful look.
"I play without tricks, I just think I'm very lucky" you said with a champion's smile as you took the money on the table. "Too much luck, you're leaving me with empty pockets" replied Nacho as he sighed in exhaustion and left his hand of cards on the table.
"Don't worry, Nacho. I'll buy a nice car with your money and let you drive it" you said playfully, causing the group of men around you to burst into laughter. Your more extroverted and humorous personality, brought out by alcohol, seemed to be well received by everyone.
"Let's play another round. Deal the cards, I'll get more beer" you said as you got up from your chair and grabbed your empty bottle.
"Yes, ma'am" Domingo began shuffling the cards before dealing them as you walked towards the kitchen.
The atmosphere seemed much more comfortable than before. The men's laughter no longer frightened you, the smell of tobacco was not as bothersome, and the reggaeton playing in the background gave the gathering a certain excitement, making you feel comfortable enough to move around and walk confidently through the house.
You went to the kitchen for more beer from the fridge without noticing that Tuco had already been there for a few minutes, drinking in silence as he watched the poker game from the open kitchen that shared space with the dining room where you were playing.
That night, Tuco seemed very interested in you and the new personality that alcohol was bringing out of you. He knew it wasn't real, that you were only trying to get along with his stupid boys, and it bothered him that you were making so much effort to get along with other men but had not paid attention to him. "There's no more beer." His voice almost scared you as you were leaning in front of the fridge looking for some beer inside.
Immediately you straightened up and felt somewhat embarrassed realizing that you were turning your back while checking the inside of the fridge, shamelessly showing the lower part of your back and part of your underwear peeking out a bit.
Tuco noticed it, and his imagination started to race.
"Oh… damn" Your voice trembled as you replied, and that made him smile. There was your shy personality again. "Where can I get more…?"
"We would have to go out and buy some, but I doubt any of those idiots would go out to buy more."
You nodded with a defeated expression on your face, feeling somewhat disoriented by the whole situation. It was the first time you had an extensive conversation with Tuco, and it seemed like you were about to start shaking at any moment.
"I have a little bit here." He raised the beer bottle in his right hand, a beer he had barely started drinking. "Do you want it?"
His question made you even more disoriented, but you knew you needed alcohol to maintain that carefree personality and be liked by others.
"Oh no… it's not necessary, I don't want to take it from you-"
"I don't like this beer, so take it if you want." He insisted more harshly, holding the beer to offer it to you while maintaining his tough gaze on you. You didn't know what to do but decided to accept. It felt too dangerous to refuse now that Tuco was trying to be nice to you. You approached him, taking a few steps until you were less than a meter away to be able to take the beer, and when your hand went to grab it, your fingers brushed against his, sending an electric shock through your entire body.
You didn't know what to do in that moment. Should you stay or go back to the table? The game was about to start, but Tuco seemed willing to stay and talk to you as he watched you drink the beer, his attention fixed on your lips around the tip of the bottle and how wet they were.
"Have you enjoyed taking those idiots' money?" His question sounded somewhat casual, much more pleasant than his previous words..
"A little…" Shyness seemed to return to your system despite drinking alcohol. It was as if you were unable to be outgoing and funny in his presence, even more so when his presence was so imposing.
"I didn't think you were such a cunning girl. You certainly know how to get attention."
You laughed shyly as you avoided his gaze, looking at your shoes and the beer bottle.
"I wasn't trying to get attention…"
"Do you not?" He questioned with a strange expression on his face. "Corazón, looking like that, it's impossible not to get attention." His index finger pointed at your body and almost made you tremble.
You felt somewhat out of place when he mentioned that. You didn't know if it was a compliment or a mockery of your physique. You weren't as thin as most girls who went out with men like him, and you even thought that your hips and thighs were too big to even attract attention in a bad way. But those were just your intrusive thoughts speaking for you, not when Tuco seemed hypnotized by your body and each of your curves.
You thought wrong, and that showed in your shy expression that turned into a sadder one. Your eyes glanced at your body for a few moments as you tried to find the right words to respond. You thought it had been an insult, not an obvious flirtation.
And Tuco noticed it. He even almost laughed at seeing how in your infinite innocence, you were unable to realize when someone was flirting directly with you. He found that cute, he liked it when his girls were silly and shy.
When you felt his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him, your heart almost leapt out of your chest. Now this intense and stoic guy was holding you close with one of his arms, while with the other, he took your beer and put it aside where it wouldn't get in the way.
"Do you think you don't get attention? Cielito, with those thighs and hips, all you've done is make me lose my fucking mind" his voice deepened, and an arrogant attitude showed. "And besides, you're wearing those pants… and you think you're not going to get attention? What a silly girl..." Upon hearing his words, you couldn't help but feel much more vulnerable than before. Each word that came out of his lips managed to heat up your body in ways you didn't think were possible. His voice was arrogant and teasing as he spoke to you, and having him so close was almost torture because now you knew that all that intensity in his gaze wasn't because he didn't trust you, it was much more personal.
Tuco seemed delighted by your shy responses, how your eyes couldn't meet his gaze and how your hands trembled, not knowing where to put them. He even felt the warmth of your nervous body as he held you possessively by the waist.
The bold and playful girl from a few minutes ago was melting in his arms, and he loved it.
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remusslove · 2 years
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Quick runs~ regulus black x dealer!reader
Includes: innocent!regulus, mentions of weed, regulus being an absolute cutie, and tooth rotting fluff
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“You got the brownies love?” You asked him softly parking the car. He nodded giving you the cutest smile while handing you the ziploc bag full of mini brownies.
“I’ll be right back love” you said before attacking him with a few pecks to his face. He giggled hiding his face in his autumn orange colored sweater that looked huge on him since it was yours.
Your friend waved to the car and regulus waved back giving him a warm smile causing your friend to chuckle.
“He’s such a cutie” she said grabbing the bag of brownies from you. You hummed in agreement before holding out your hand. She groaned reaching into her pockets taking out two crumbled twenty dollar bills.
“Pleasure doing business with you” you said giving her a fake cheesy smile before walking off the rickety porch.
You got into the car turning on the engine as regulus hummed to the song that was playing while counting the bills in your wallet.
He loved counting your money for some reason, whenever you ask him about he always says he finds it entertaining, which makes you chuckle.
You put your hand on his thigh making a u-turn with your non dominate hand. He giggled once again as a light shade of red formed on his cheeks.
“Fourteen hundred” regulus said out loud after counting the rest of the bills.
“That’s good enough. Two more pit stops and then we can go to that store you like and buy you some cute sweaters hm?” You asked causing him to immediately perk up.
“The new store in uptown that has those cute fall sweaters?!? And the new doc martens?!?” Regulus asked you in excitement.
“Mhm” you hummed in confirmation as he thanked you and began to blabber on about how cute the brown doc martens at the store would look so good with one of his many sweaters that he “borrowed” from you.
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rafeysdoll · 9 days
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bestie we neeeed dealer!rafe and his fav customer who’s so cute and pretty and he’s absolutely obsessed with her but she’s not falling that easily!!!!
i love love loveeee you and ur brain angel girl. this is an introduction to dealer rafe <3 thanks to @babygazette & @hewwokitti for helping me out
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“we.. we should talk in my room, its uh.. loud.” rafe prompts, your dealer sneaking a hand against the small of your back when you nod, pushing you past the bustling crowd. every step you take upwards causes your already short skirt to ride up and expose your plush ass. “here listen, why dont you.. uh,” he trails off, pulling you in front of him in order to cover your back instead.
when you do get to his room, rafe turns you back to him with a large smile, going through drawers before pulling out a small, pink heart bag filled with your desired substance, in arms reach. “oh thats so cute!” you squeal, grabbing the small baggie where you could now see it read ‘favorite customer,’ on it, a tiny doodle of a heart besides.
“oh i bet you tell that to all your customers,” you giggle, batting your lashes as the familiar feeling of heat comes up through your cheeks and ears. you couldn’t help it, rafe always made it clear he liked you, always made sure you felt special as well as having the interest to double check that you’re reacting positively with small flirty replies or lingering touches. “nah, just you pretty.” he drawls, lifting your hand and kissing it softly.
“rafe..” you whisper with a soft smile, looking away from his blue irises. “i know you feel it too baby, you’re just playing coy,” he replies, making a small tsk sound before chuckling. “come on, work with me, alright?”
you take a small step back, shrugging your shoulders when he places one hand on his hip. “dunno what you’re talking about rafey,” you lie, biting your bottom lip. “right, okay. you gonna make me work for it huh?” he licks his lip, nodding as he already sets his plan in motion to sweep you off your kitten heel clad feet.
you stay silent, now looking back at him with a cheeky smile, moving in for a small hug before kissing his cheek. “thanks for the weed rafe!” you squeal before fleeing for the door.
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cal-flakes · 2 months
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hi lover!! can we see dealer!rafe teaching innocent!reader how to do a bump pretty please 😋😋 my fav trope!!!
yes yes yes yes you fuckin’ can my love. (not proofread i apologise i am a sleepy girl rn)
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‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆
— “you lost or somethin’?” a smug voice appeared behind you, causing you to flinch in fright, lost in your own mind. you peered up at him, all glossy lipped and doe eyed, just like he expected. “oh— rafe! sorry, i was jus’ seeing if i left my charger in here” you explained, a sweet smile gracing your face. his brows furrowed, yet his shoulders relaxed, simply unable to keep up the intimidating act while you beamed up at him the way you did.
“and why would it be in here?” he questioned further, eyes narrowing slightly while a smirk tugged at his lips. “oh no— i mean, i didn’t leave it in here, but sarah said she might’ve let you borrow it or something?” your grin faltered slightly, picking up on the undertone of annoyance in his voice.
it wasn’t that rafe was scary— well, he was, but he made an effort not to scare you. how could he? his sister friend who always showed up in sweet little dresses, neatly styled hair, perfected makeup. the last thing he wanted was to scare you, if anything he wanted to know more. unbeknownst to rafe, you were just as intrigued— ogling him over the kitchen island when he came back to tannyhill late at night, interrupting your and sarah’s girly nights in. always offering to help whenever he seemed stressed.
taking a step back, he reached into his bedside drawer with ease, pulling out a familiar bedazzled iphone charger. “m’messin’ with you kid, y’mean this charger?” he chuckled, watching carefully as you let out a quiet, shaky breath before quickly regaining your smile. “that’s the one! thanks rafe!” you giggled, taking the item from his hands before heading for the door. “y’know, why don’t you stay for a bit? spend some time w’me? she’s got you all to herself all the time”
your hand retracted from the door immediately as the words left his mouth, though mentally scolding yourself for seeming so eager. “well— i’m sure she wouldn’t mind, just for little while”
— before you knew it, hours had passed, the only noise in the house being the movie rafe had picked as well as your giggles. you’d found yourself laying down on his bed, head resting on his knee as he lay against the headboard.
“y’look tired doll, y’okay?” he hummed, resting a lazy hand on your cheek as you released a surprised yawn, not wanting him to think you were getting bored. “jus’ a little, s’okay though, i can stay up a bit longer..” you spoke softly, turning over to face him now.
“i’ve got somethin’ that can help” he stated nonchalantly, reaching again into his bedside drawer, this time pulling out a not-so bedazzled baggy. your brows knitted together. “whas’at?”
“you trust me?” he tested, cocking an eyebrow as he sat up slightly. “course’ i do rafe” you smiled naively, watching as he opened the bag, tapping it gently as he poured out a small pile onto the back of his thumb. “this, is everything you need”
his other hand beckoned you forward till you were within his reach, carefully pulling you into his lap, legs slotted beside his as you tugged at the hem of your dress, doing your best to cover up. “now, your gonna close your other nostril, and sniff up— hard, m’kay? you listenin’ baby?” he instructed, tapping your jaw slightly as if you bring you back into the room, noticing the vacant look in your eyes as they stared at him in awe. “mhm”
swiftly, rafe pressed his hand to the back of your head as his other came up to your nose, guiding you through it as the grainy powder made its way up your nose, an unfamiliar feeling that only made your eyes water. “s’okay doll, it’ll hit you in a second alright?” he cooed, using the same hand to wipe away the pools building in the corners of your eyes before pulling you further into him.
“not just sarah’s little friend after all, huh kid?” he smirked, allowing you to nuzzle into his chest for a moment as you both waited for the high.
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starkeyisthelastname · 2 months
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dealer rafe smut w reader and she’s a squirter?
You weren’t exactly sure what had riled him up. Something about missing money and taking care of a rat. His adrenaline was high as he quite literally fucked you into the mattress. You couldn’t get anything out, your words turning into gasps as you he pounded into you at a brutal speed.
The black ski mask still hung over his face, his blue eyes piercing through as he drilled into you. His expensive chain he wore around his neck, shined in the moonlight of the dark room.
“Lay there and fucking take this dick.” Rafe grunted out through the fabric of the mask, his voice gruff and low.
You cried out, your cunt squeezing around his massive dick that was stretching you out. You knew you weren’t going to last long in this position, nearly folded in half, his dick hitting your g-spot over and over.
“Rafe…I can’t.” You mumbled out, tapping your nails against his broad chest. He needed to slow down before you exploded, your stomach tightening with each thrust to your soaked hole.
“Yeah you fucking can, don’t run from it now.”
His hands gripped both of your wrists, pinning them back as he continued the assault to your cunt. The feeling then grew more, your breath hitching in the back of your throat as your pussy began to burst like a waterfall. The clear liquid soaked everything around the two of you, a loud whine coming from your lips as he made you take it. He never cared about the mess.
“You are gonna do that shit again, mama.” He breathed heavily, taking off his mask to wipe his abs that were covered in your squirt. He barely gave you anytime to recover before he was flipping you onto your stomach, slamming back into your sensitive cunt.
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voidpetrova · 3 months
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cash or credit? — rafe cameron x reader
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☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, use of marijuana, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, praise, sex under the influence — smut
˚♡ 。˚ synopsis: it's your first time trying weed, and you have no one to turn to but your best friend, who offers a different way for you to pay him back
✧.*
“absolutely not,”
“why the fuck not?”
“i'm not fucking selling you weed.”
you weren't exactly a persuasive person. negotiating wasn't exactly one of your specialties, a prime reason you were in the position you werw currently in, and not one of north carolina's most famous lawyers. you wanted to try some weed, wanted to see how it feels to get high. you've been a drinker up until this, knocking more than a few back with ease. a fan of cigarettes, too. you didn't care for spending money on them, though. why would you go through the trouble? stealing them from your best friend was easier.
“you're such a dick, dude,” you scoffed, waving the money you had brought in his face. you didn't know exactly how much you were getting, how much you needed, or how much it'd cost. so, you just brought a fifty for good measure. there was no way it was more than that. “i'm trying to expand your business here, you should be thanking me.”
rafe scoffed at you as he finished off what was left of his joint, inhaling the bitter smoke as he furrowed his eyebrows. “you're crazy if you think i'm gonna let you get high.” he argued after holding the smoke in, for as long as he could. now, it was your turn to scoff, “don't act like you care,” he shot an eyebrow up at your words. “if you don't sell it to me, some other shady asshole will. so, either help me or let me get laced.”
despite not being persuasive, you had a special way of pushing his buttons. “jesus fucking christ, c'mere,” he finally agreed, sighing in defeat as he motioned for you to come sit next to him. you were ecstatic, rushing over to sit next to him as you pulled him in for a hug. you felt him tense up under your touch, cheeks turning the prettiest shade of pink as you uttered out your “thank yous”.
the glass table set in front of him was laid with a variety of artifacts, some familiar to you while others weren't. you spotted his grinder, rolling paper, and his tinted bags of weed. the scent wasn't overwhelming, unlike the stern look he shot you. “you're not leaving my sight, you got that?” you nodded, patiently watching out for his next move.
he pulled out a sheet of rolling paper from the pack, the sheer material twirling between his fingertips. “if you're gonna smoke, may as well teach you how to roll,” he insisted, only half-joking as he shot you a smile. “first and last time i roll for you, you hear me?” that was a lie and he knew it, but you listened, nonetheless.
“take some weed, be gentle with it,” he began as he opened up his bag, revealing the dark green plant inside. “put it in the grinder, gotta open it up.” you watched closely, scanning the way his strong, long fingers pulled the grinder apart, layering the plant inside before closing it back up. “gonna grind it up just until it's fine, okay?” it was a weird thing to admit, but you couldn't help but enjoy the way he talked you through it. it made you feel stupid, but in a weird way, pleasant.
he worked the tool carefully, turning it toward the side, but not for long. as he removed the lid, you watched the way it had gone from whole to fine in a matter of seconds. “hand me the rolling paper, sweetheart.” you gulped, tensing up at the nickname, but you said nothing. you handed him the sheer sheet, watching as he flattened it out on the table. his fingers carefully picked at the green, layering it on the paper as closely as he could. “gotta leave some space before you start rolling.”
you frowned at the generous amount of weed he had been stuffing the paper with. “that not too much?” he let out a dry laugh, “if you're gonna smoke with me, gotta make sure i make it worth it.” you trusted him more than you trusted yourself, you trusted his experience and, unfortunately, him as a person. so, you said nothing.
after filling up the paper generously enough, you watched carefully, breath hitching in your throat as he brought the half-done joint up to his lips, swiping his tongue from the left corner to the right. you didn't know if it was voluntary or not, if it was just because of how close you were sitting next to him, but you couldn't ignore what the sight did to you. he seemed to have noticed it, too. “like what you see?” he smirked, earning a scoff from you as you snapped out of your trance. “less talking, more rolling.”
he had pressed tightly, rolling the joint in a tighr and orderly fashion, careful to watch out for loose ends and spills. he was a professional, he loved his work. the joint was formed in a matter of seconds, and he was all too pleased with himself. the filter held everything in place, thin paper wrapped around it carefully.
“let me just spark it up for you, yeah?” you nodded in agreement, watching as he placed the joint in between his lips. his lighter flickered, awaiting the flame that would ignite your newlyfound experience. he was careful not to burn the paper, finally setting it ablaze the right way before inhaling deeply. the smoke hit his lungs like thunder, but it was nothing new to him. he let out a sigh of relief before turning to you, passing you the joint.
there was no hesitation—you took it, rolling it in between your index finger and thumb as you pressed it to your lips. you ignored the way the scent shocked your lips, leaving a nasty burning sensation, as you inhaled deeply. rafe watched in admiration, eyebrows jolting at the fact that you hadn't ended up in a fit of coughs. you took it like a champ, keeping it in your lungs long enough to kickstart a buzz, even helping yourself to a second hit. “atta fucking girl, took it so good,” he cooed. you gulped, savoring the unique flavor in your mouth despite how dry it was. his words did something to you no law of science could explain. “thanks, rafey.” luckily for you, your chosen nickname had similar effects on him.
what was left of the joint spent the following minute or so being passed between you and rafe, until nothing was left to smoke. you had slouched your shoulders in disappointment at how fast the joint seemed to turn to ash, but rafe made up for it by rolling a new one. the process repeated itself once more—grind, sprinkle, lick, roll, smoke. when fifteen minutes followed the second joint, you were scared to stand up.
you had kicked your legs over rafe's lap, head beginning to spin each time you tried getting up, so you had accepted defeat. you leaned back, mouth dry as your legs tensed up, eliciting soft whines from your lips, earning rafe's attention. “so much for taking it well,” he smirked. you responded with another whine, “can't even think anymore.” he let out a soft laugh, his voice deeper than usual. “that's what makes it so fun.”
he had a point—it was as if your brain had finally turned itself off. nothing mattered, not even the dryness in your mouth, or the way your eyes burned. not with the way your head spinned, as if you were existing anywhere but the present. you pulled your arms behind your head, arching your back as you stretched, trying to rid yourself of the tension in your lats. rafe's eyes wandered and he couldn't help but stare at the way your back arched, tank top lifting to reveal your bare stomach and the bottom of your tits. your head was leaned back, pretty noises leaving your mouth and your eyes shut. he swallowed roughly, palm involuntarily pushing down against the strain in his pants.
he tried his hardest to pull it off, but the voice in his head had something better in mind. “should talk about how you're gonna pay me back, sunshine,” you pulled yourself back up, head tilting as you processed what he was saying. you shrugged, “how much money do you want?” rafe had to think about it for a second, having all the time in the world to ponder, before finally biting the bullet.
“don't want your fuckin' money.” for a second, you were confused. you had known him for a long time, and you've had your moments where nothing he said made any sense to you, and this was one of them. “what do you want then, rafey?”
every nerve inside your body was on fire as you watched him carefully. he met your eyes with his own red, low ones. his voice was deeper than usual, smoother than usual. today, his shirt seemed tighter. his legs seemed more spread apart. to prevent your eyes from trailing down any lower, you had to shut them light. “look at me,” he whispered. just like always, you did as you were told, eyes fluttering open as you met his gaze. you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, wetting it, desperate for some kind of moisture. he spread his legs just a bit more, before beckoning for you to come over. for you to sit. “c'mere.”
one word was all it had taken for you to give in, as much as he let you. you crawled over towards him, his eyes of admiration dropping from your face to the open valley of your breasts as you did so. when your faces were inches apart, he found himself cupping your jaw, thumbing your soft skin. “just thought of a way you could pay me back,” he purred. “you think you can be good for me?”
all you had come over for was the chance to experience a new high, wanting to see what the big deal was. if you had known this was what fate had in store for you, you'd have done it much sooner. “i can be good for you,” you assured him, and he smiled for what seemed more than genuine.
the air crackled with anticipation as he closed the distance, his fingers grazing your cheek. the world faded away, leaving only the pulsating heat of the moment. rafe's lips met yours in a fiery dance, a blend of passion and longing. time seemed to stand still as the kiss deepened, sending shivers down your spine. in that stolen moment, the world outside ceased to exist, and all that remained was your searing connection. he practically growled as he wrapped his arms around your bare waist, pulling you onto his lap.
“no idea how long i've been waiting to do that,” you smiled at his words as you pulled away, only to pull your tank top off your body. “no idea how long i've been waiting for you to do that.”
you could feel him poking you through your shorts, your clothed, damp panties. he was big, you could tell. it was something you found yourself wondering more often than necessary, but he was big. rock hard while you pressed your cunt against him, rocking your hips. he let out a moan, one of the prettiest sounds you have ever heard in your life, and you were sure you wanted to hear more of it. he could feel himself growing harder while you grew wetter, whining as he took one of your tits in his mouth, hand wrapped around the other.
“thank god you came to me for this,” he hummed, pressing a final kiss to your tit before working on ridding himself of his own clothes. “if you'd done this with any other fucker, i'd kill him on the spot.”
you shook your head, watching carefully as he pulled his shirt off, carefully revealing himself to you little by little. “just for you, rafey.” he seemed satisfied with your answer.
he wanted to take his time with you, having fantasized about this moment in particular forever. though, a part of him just wanted to having you a moaning mess beneath him. your hand slid up his bare chest, eyes glossy with impatience as he rid himself of his boxers. “need you to fuck me, rafey.”
“gonna be the death of me,” he shook his head, hand pressed thoughtlessly against the front of your thigh, spreading you wider while in his lap. “but not before i stretch this pussy.” he sighed under his breath, ever so eagerly pressing a finger between your clothed folds, fat lips swallowing the sheer material. you sucked in a breath, and released it with a hiccup, his eyes leaving your cunt to look at you as you did so. “take 'em off, baby.” he delivered a light slap to your clothed clit, a smirk gracing his lips when you jolted with a whine. you wriggled out of them, unsure of what to do with them so you reach to throw them to the side, but rafe beats you to it. he's quick to throw them but not before pressing them to his nose, dick twitching as he inhaled your sweet scent, leaving you flushed with embarrassment.
when he'd finally pushed into you, his blonde bangs shook against his forehead as he looked up at you, watching your cunt slurp him up while you cried with each passing second. moans were practically shoved out of you, like there was no room to keep them inside while he buried himself to the balls in your little cunt. quickening his pace, slapping skin on skin because of what he had been missing out on for so long.
“rafey, too fucking much,” you sobbed, lost in what seemed to be pain and pleasure, clutching his toned arms. he pushed your hand off of him, picking you up just slightly by your thighs. for a second, you'd been granted a reprieve, but that was only a warm-up, slotting his hands under your thighs to raise you, biceps aching from the process. for a second, you catched your ragged breath, until he slammed you back onto his dick. he didn't think to ease you on inch after inch, no, he bottomed out right away, plunging his length into you. you thought it was hard before, now you were on the verge of tears, thoughtlessly reaching out to him as if to wordlessly ask for a time-out.
he kept his absolute focus on you as he watched with low eyes, dick twitching at the sight of you bouncing on his dick despite the pain, your eyes red and teary as your tits bounched with every movement, a ring of cream forming around his shaft, and he couldn't resist smirking. you spasmed, clutching around his cock. “sweet little cunt sucking my dick in, yeah?” he cooed rhetorically, batting his eyelashes tauntingly. “best not be letting anyone fuck this pussy after me.”
you balled your little fingers up at the pain, weakly hitting your fist against his chest, taut from his hold on you, fingernails digging into your skin as you struggled to fight him. “no one's gonna fuck me but you, rafey, i swear!” he smirked at the response, “just got started and you're already so desperate f'my dick.” he deliberately pushed your hips down against his pelvis, introducing a deeper way for his cock to drill into you, and in turn, pistoning his dick into you in a way that had your eyes rolling. his movements, telling himself to be slow and careful, caused him to tremble from effort, every muscle flexed as he fucked you. your legs were spread for him as he watched you drench his dick in your juices.
“i'll split you in half if i catch you with another guy.” he was so deep inside that you could feel his tight balls against you. he was stretching you out so wide that you felt like he was piercing you. his hips picked up a relentless pace, snapping up against yours so hard that the sofa trembled under his ass. “no one else, rafe, i promise. only you get to have me.” he loves the idea of it so much that's he's chasing his high now, snarling as he rubs your puffy clit, dick pounding into you as you moan some more, stomach twisting and turning as you gush some more.
by then, your whole body was convulsing, and you'd been void of any energy. rafe knew that, it was crystal clear. he fumbled your bouncing tits as his mouth hung open, snarls passing his lips as he stuffed you as much as possible. his cock split you in half with each hard thrust, hands migrating to the back of your thighs, spreading you as he pounded you, cock twitching as tears slid down your cheeks.
“i’m gonna cum, fuck, fuck,” you warned. he slammed into you a few more times before his balls tightened, and before you knww it, he was spurting his seed into you with the most delicious groan you’d ever heard. you finally came, drunk from his cock and so far gone that you wondered if you were even alive anymore. you were, in fact, very much alive. you knew it when you looked into his eyes, shaking in his lap as he remained plunged into your pussy, fingertips stroking your fleshy thighs. he couldn't resist smiling at the sight of you.
“wanna roll another one?”
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ohcaptains · 1 year
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don’t you dare fall in love. 
pairing. dealer college student! ellie williams x f! reader. 
synopsis. ellie tries her hardest not to mix business with pleasure. or, ellie gets a new customer and unfortunately falls in love with her.  warnings. 18+. drug dealing, references to anxiety, sexually explicit descriptions. eventual: smut, stalkerish behavior, violence, drunk/high kissing, homophobic behavior & slurs. 
an. trying my hand at dealer!ellie and it turned into a near eight thousand word fic. planning for this to be multi chap because i’m insane. please comment and reblog, it really makes the effort worth it<3 i hope u enjoy.
Mid-lecture, Ellie’s phone buzzes.
The girl next to her snaps to her in disgust, as if Ellie had smacked her with the device. The lecture hadn’t been all that interesting, anyway. Lord knows why this girl was so infuriated by a break from Johnathan Bailey’s spiel on eighteenth-century food prices.
Ellie hated this class. Professor Bailey had the innate ability to make History boring, when in High school, it had been one of Ellie’s favourite subjects. She was just thankful that she hadn’t picked it as her major, or she’d be gunning to change it.
Ellie leans forward towards the shared desk, and raises her eyebrows at the girl, as if to say, dude, before picking her phone up and unlocking it to a text from Dina.
Hey, expect a text from someone. I gave her your number.
As if on cue, the second phone she kept at the bottom of her bag buzzes. The girl shoots her another glare. Ellie chooses to ignore her. Glancing at the lecturer, she puts the phone under the desk and texts Dina back.
She cool?
Ellie only dealt to a select trustworthy few.
Three dots pop up, followed by: Yeah, she’s in my social studies class. She’s cool.
Then, almost immediately, another text, reading just: gay.
Ellie scoffs. The girl beside her flinches, and she nearly twists to her, asking what her problem is.
Thanks, she texts, deciding against it. She does glance up to the lecturer again, though, but he’s too busy talking about the famine to notice Ellie texting.
Not that it matters, she types.
Though, it sort of did. Ellie always had a weakness around pretty girls, which was incredibly bad for business. She always ended up with slashed prices and a broken heart. She wasn’t looking for new customers, especially pretty gay customers. Though Dina never usually did this, so she guesses the girl must be desperate. Ellie was a generous type. (Especially around pretty gay girls)
No? Dina responds, followed by a slew of side-eye emojis. Well, at least you’re supporting the community.
I supply to multiple communities Dina; my shop is very inclusive.
Whatever, she’s cute. And she’s single.
Ellie rolls her eyes, typing, Why don’t you get with her? and the three bubbles stay moving for a while, as Dina types and re-types her response. Finally, she settles on, Jesse and me are a thing again.
Ellie’s thumbs smash into the screen, When did that happen?
Last Ellie heard; they were on a break.
Last night, at the party you decided not to go to.
Dude, I had an essay to finish.
Whatever – anyway, this girl is cool, so be nice.
When the lecture ends, Ellie shrugs her laptop into her backpack, followed by a half-finished, bitten biro and her battered notebook. She slides the spare phone out, thumbing the smashed screen and slipping it into her back pocket. When she leaves the hall and starts walking through campus, she pulls the phone out.  
Hey! Dina gave me your number. She said I can buy from you?
Then, a minute later. Or we can go through Dina if you’re more comfy with that, idm !!!
Ellie sniffs a smile. She always preferred selling to girls – they were nicer than the gross frat boys she used to sell to. Even if she did grow attached. In first year, she used to sell out of her Dorm. Used to sell to anyone, really – nearly got caught by campus security. If it wasn’t for Dina stashing her shit, she’d probably still be in jail right now. Now, she kept a low profile.
She trusted Dina’s word – if she said a customer was cool, they were cool.
No, she types. This is cool. Who sold to you before? Then, or is this a first?
About a minute later, her phone buzzes again. No, you’re not my first lol.
Ellie scoffs a laugh, shaking her head at herself. She makes her way to the library, pushing her headphones on. Another buzz, Guy I used to use started getting weird.
She frowns, typing, From campus?  
Yeah :/ think he fell in love with me or something.
Ellie slots her ID over the gates of the library and pushes in.
Mindlessly, she types, Promise I won’t fall in love with you. Bad for business.
In the back of her head, she thinks, please don’t be really pretty and funny. Please don’t be really pretty and funny. She reaches her usual table – hidden away under a closed-off stairwell in a quiet subsection – and dumps her bag on the desk, pulling her jacket off. Her phone buzzes again.
Lol, please don’t. Too much hassle finding someone new to buy from. Everything was cool until he started putting love notes in the bags.
She’s typing immediately, Whaaaaaat?
She suddenly feels bad. This girl didn’t need another creepy dealer falling for her.
Yeah:/
Sorry that happened, that’s not cool.
Thank you:) Anyway, yeah – is it cool to pick up?
Ellie pauses. She chews on her bottom lip – a nervous habit she’s yet to break – and types, I don’t have anything with me.
:(
Pushing her lips together, Ellie thinks to herself. She comes to a quick conclusion, hoping and begging that it doesn’t blow up in her face.
You on campus? She asks.
Yeah.
Meet me at the library if u wanna.
Yeah? Three good?
She checks her watch – 1:30. Enough time to finish the history assignment she was procrastinating.
Yeah, she types, throwing her battered phone to the table before pulling out her laptop. The device buzzes again. She glances at it.
You’re a lifesaver<3
 At three, Ellie texts back.
Coming now, lmk when you’re there.
Already here:) on the benches. Pink backpack.  
Ellie spots the backpack, and then spots you. You’re sitting on the bench, leg over the over, and scrolling on your phone. Casual black pants cling to your legs, riding up your thighs, resting tight around your hips, where you’d haphazardly tucked in a blue loose tank. The arm holes are jagged, and as you move, Ellie sees the band of your black bra, and the smooth skin beneath.
She pauses in the doorway, getting a good look, but also getting in the way of a guy trying to get in.
“Dude—” he juts, and Ellie spits a curse, hands up in apology. When she turns back to you, you’re already looking at her. Curious eyes take her in. Down-turned brows, pursed lips, and you lick them, smoothing your hand over your knee. You scan her, trying to figure out if it's her, Ellie guesses, and she goes hot under your gaze, all too aware of her limbs as she walks towards you.
“Ellie?” you ask, squinting up at her. Your hand comes up to shield your eyes from the sun. Ellie ignores how cute you look with your features scrunched together. Professional, she tells herself.
God, she is pretty.  
She tries to look casual. Throws in a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah, that’s me. “ She nods to you, managing to school her features. “Dina didn’t tell me your name.” “Oh yeah,” you say, introducing yourself. You get up from the bench, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Ellie sees the baby blue water bottle peeking out of the side pocket. She registers that you’ve matched your water bottle to your outfit and decides it's best to ignore the resulting fizz in her belly.
As you move, she’s cloaked in a cloud of citrus. Jesus fuck okay. She breathes in deep through her nose, getting another whiff of your perfume. She steps back, trying to get away from the intoxicating scent. Jabs a thumb in the direction out of campus. Thinks, let's get this over with.
“I gotta go to my apartment to get it, you cool with that?”
You nod, seemingly agreeing, but she notices you picking at your nails. The air changes a little, humming with electricity as nerves suddenly wash off you. She doesn’t know why – she isn’t all that scary. Though, she guesses, she is when she’s trying to be serious. She unclenches her jaw.
She turns to go, but you don’t move. “Err, your apartment far?”
Ellie pauses, “Ten-minute walk.” You stay planted to the spot. She raises a brow, “Or we can meet later? If you’re more comfortable with that?”
You smile softly, thankful. Still, you shake your head – “No, got work to do. Kinda need it now.”
Ellie looks you over. Her eyes are curious – she takes in the anxious rubbing of your palms, and the chewing of your lip.
Her eyes turn to slits, and she nods to you.
“You okay?” “Yeah – “you burst suddenly, laughing. “Sorry. Um. Not trying to spook you, I’m not a cop.” “That’s what a cop would say.” “Yeah, figured you say that” you laugh, taking a shaky breath in. Ellie watches you splay your hands out, “I get anxious around due dates. Got a few soon, so need something to calm my nerves.”
A small smile plays on Ellie’s lips. “So not a cop then?” she jokes, and you lose that nervous frown for a split second. She watches your whole face change, and Ellie’s two seconds away from telling you where her stash is, just to permanently rid you of that anxious dip in your brow you once wore.
Whoa there, Ellie. She thinks, reigning herself in. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. She looks around, itching her neck, “Err, so what did you need?” “Just an eighth, I have my own skins and stuff. You got purple Kush?” “Yeah,” she nods, turning to leave, “follow me.”
You trail after her, catching up with a bounce.
The beginning of the walk is quiet. Not awkward, but not comfortable, either. Ellie’s too busy fighting the urge to glance down at you. When you finally leave Campus and get onto the main road, she turns to you.
“So, when’d you mean Dina?”
You glance up, startled out of a daydream. “Um,” you hum, thinking back. “Last year, at the LGBT society.”
Your eyes flick curiously to her, and Ellie wonders if Dina told you that she liked girls, too. She feels the sudden need to tell you.
“I went to a few of those meetings,” she tries to casually add, feeling her heart pick up speed, that familiar nerve of coming out swelling in her chest. Didn’t matter how many times she did it – pushing herself over that hill always made her palms sweat.
You smile softly, and Ellie tries to decipher it. Interested? Curious? She feels suddenly too close, like she should step away. She speeds up, and your arm brushes against hers as you catch up.
“Oh yeah?” you ask, this new shared thing dispelling your anxiety. You walk backwards, a little excited. Ellie likes this new bouncy you. You’re too pretty like this to waste time being anxious. You cock your head to the side, “Maybe we saw each other there.”
Ellie shakes her head. “I only went to a couple, plus if I saw you, I think I would have remembered.”
Your eyes widen an inch, mouth opening, features twisting in surprise. Ellie’s cheeks bloom red.  
“Fuck, sorry –,” she starts, shaking her head, “--that was inappropriate.” Your arm brushes against hers again as you move to walk beside her, and a metaphoric, cliché flicker shudders through her skin. You hitch your backpack up, “I’ll choose to believe you’re just very friendly.”
A laugh sparks out of her. She itches her forearm, and she notices your eyes flick down to her tattoo. “So, err –“she starts, tugging her jacket back down, “Dina?” “Yeah. We met there and had a few classes together. Only really spoke properly this year. She’s cool.” “She is.” You smile, “Said you were cool, too.” Ellie nods, “I am, not as cool as her though.” “You two used to be a thing or?”
Ellie glances down at you. You put your hands up. “I get to ask something inappropriate after your comment.” She rolls her eyes, but burgundy silently agrees. “No – we didn’t. Nearly. But it was silly. Think we just figured that cause we were the only queer girls we knew that we should be together.” “Jesus, I know all about that.” “Yeah, confusing.” “Now she’s with Jesse, no?” “Yeah – back together. But we’ll see how long that lasts.”
Ellie hears herself. She snaps to you, “don’t tell her I said that.” You pull your lips into your mouth, smiling. Why did she say that? She loves Jesse and Dina together. 
The fuck is happening? Why is she vomiting the truth like you’ve put some sort of spell on her? She just found out your name, for Christ’s sake.
“So, you don’t go to any more meetings?” she quirks, squinting into the distance. “No, it fizzled out. When I went, everyone kinda knew each other, now it’s just freshmen. At first, I thought it would be an easy place to find a girlfriend, but—” you shrug, “—turns out they were already with each other.”
Ellie laughs softly, silently agreeing. She had thought the same at the beginning. Newly out after the hell of Highschool, she was ready to meet the girl of her dreams. Ended up getting the worse heartbreak of her life.
Well, second worse.
“So, no girlfriend?” You shake your head. “Too busy, anyway. As much as I’d love a cute girl to cuddle with at night, my plates kinda full at the moment.”
Ellie briefly imagines being the cute girl you cuddle with at night. She’s too busy thinking about it, that she nearly doesn’t hear you when you ask, “So, what’re you studying?”
Small talk, Ellie can do this.   “Physics.” Your eyes widen, “Physics? Christ.” “Yeah,” she laughs, knowing that would be the response. Ellie’s casual demeanour and tatted state didn’t really scream, Physics student with a minor in Astrophysics. Plus, she sold weed out of her apartment. Smart girls didn’t do that. Or they did, and Ellie wasn’t giving herself enough credit.
“But I have to take a lot of elective classes to keep my scholarship.” “Scholarship?” you ask, glancing at her. “Smart girl then.”
Ellie goes beat red. Her palms go tingly. You must be a mind reader.
“Er, I guess?” she manages. “Um – what about you? What’re you studying?”
Ellie listens to your spiel. She didn’t think finding out about someone’s academics would be so interesting, but Ellie hangs onto every word. Finds out you work at the campus bookshop, and she’s already planning her next trip. 
She watches your mannerisms, watches you speak with your hands – watches your smile build and change, face squinting from the Jackson sun.
When she gets to her apartment, she’s filled with sudden disappointment.
“This is me,” she signals, pulling out her key. “You want me to wait down here?” you ask politely. Ellie looks over her shoulder, shaking her head. “You’re good. I trust Dina.” “So, you trust me too, then?” you grin, winking, and Ellie’s so blinded by it that she misses the lock. She huffs a laugh, “funny girl.” “I know – “then you grin, teeth chewing on your bottom lip. “Cute, too.” Ellie chuckles, still trying to put the key in the goddamn lock. “Confident as well.” “Confident, polite,” you list, hands behind your back, bouncing from left to right. “Anxious?” Ellie jokes and your eyes widen, mouth open. “Hey!” you scoff. “Don’t make me give you a bad review.” “Wouldn’t want that—fuck sake, why can’t I…” “Need help?” “No, thank you. I can unlock my own door.”
Can she, though? Her hands are so sweaty that the key keeps on slipping. Finally, she unlocks it. “Fucking finally.”
She pushes the door open, motioning for you to walk in front of her. You pass by her with thanks, and Ellie watches the back of you as you start climbing the stairs.
What was it Dina said? Cute, cool, and single. Ellie’s add nice ass to the list.
Don’t be gross, Ellie, her subconscious suddenly sneers. She tries to look away. Eventually, she does, but you stop moving, and Ellie’s nearly colliding with it.
“Which floor is it?” you ask suddenly, turning over your shoulder. You glance down at her, and Ellie blinks up at you, cheeks red, hoping and begging you didn’t notice where her eyes just were.
“Er, two,” she mutters.
You carry on climbing. Ellie feels a little like a gross dude, and she spends the entire journey trying to rid herself of that sickly feeling. After a few minutes, you get to her apartment, and Ellie manages to unlock it on the first try. But when she opens the door, she panics. Her apartment is a state. She turns suddenly, meeting your confused eyes.
“Um, stay there, I gotta sort some shit out,” and she ducks behind the door. Your voice calls out from behind the door, “I’m not gonna judge, mines probably worse.”
Ellie starts throwing stuff around, hiding it under tables and in cupboards. Thankfully, her living room isn’t as bad as her bedroom.  
Ellie’s speaking. Doesn’t know what she’s saying until she’s said it, “that’s probably incorrect; your water bottle matches your outfit.” There’s a pause before you quirk, “You noticed that?”
Ellie pauses. She scrambles for an explanation, “Er, yeah. I have really good eyesight.” “Right.” “Yeah, twenty-twenty--“she throws an Overwatch plushie behind the sofa, finishing her sentence, “—vision.” Ellie yanks the door open. She finds you patiently leaning against the wall, playing with your nails. Your backpack is on the floor between your legs, and you curiously glance up at her.
“Done?” you ask politely, voice soft.
Ellie’s cool. Well, she likes to think so, anyway. Likes to think that she’s chill. Laid back. Cool as a cucumber. However, there is nothing chill about the sudden panic that blooms in her chest upon the mere idea of you walking into her apartment. Ellie nods, cool and chill and so laid back she’s boneless. “Yeah – just don’t look at the kitchen.” “Course,” you giggle. You sling your backpack over your shoulder and follow her in, arm unintentionally brushing across her chest. Ellie leans back, ignoring the weird warmth that buzzed from your touch. She closes the door, turning to find you standing in the middle of her living room, looking around.
“Um—” she starts, grabbing your attention. She walks towards the small hallway, rubbing her sweaty palms on her jeans. “--take a seat. Lemme –” and she jabs a thumb behind her. You nod, smiling – always with that soft, polite smile – as you plop down on her sofa.
Ellie basically runs away.
When she reaches her bedroom, she leans against her closed door, facing the ceiling. She takes a few rescue breaths. Suddenly warm, she shrugs off her jacket and dumps it on her bed as she fumbles for her secret stash. 
Just a girl. She mumbles to herself, looking through the pre-made bags. Just a girljustagirl, justagirl. 
She’s itching to call Dina. Pick up the phone and tell her that she can’t see you again. That she’s made a grave mistake. Actually, this isn’t gonna work out. You’re cute and all but. Ellie stops. She pinches the brim of her nose. That’s it. You’re just cute. Why’s she being so silly?
When she walks into the living room, you’re sitting snugly on her sofa, scrolling on your phone. Ellie wants to run away again.
You see her and lock your phone, smiling. “Hey.” “Hey – eighth, right? Purple kush? You don’t need it rolled?” “No – I’m okay. Thank you, though.” “Yeah, no worries.”
Immediately, you reach for your purse. Ellie realises that you have to pay. How the fuck has she forgotten the most important part of this whole deal?
She mentally smacks herself in the face.
“Dina didn’t tell me how much,” you smile, expectant. Ellie rattles off her prices, and you swap. She shoves the money into her back pocket and sees you opening your backpack. You pull out a medium-sized white case. Ellie thinks nothing of it – probably somewhere you store your weed, so your bag didn’t end up stinking of it.
But when you pop the box open and stuff the bag inside, she sees the faded imprint of Hello Kitty on the side.
“Oh my god,” she laughs, and you put your hand up, knowing exactly what she’s laughing at. “No judgement, okay? It does the job.” “No, it’s –” she rubs her chin, “it’s cute.” You make a face at her, “It is cute, actually.” “It’s sweet. I’m sorry I laughed.”
You push it into your bag and zip it up, throwing it on your back. You grin, and it’s God Damn adorable, “You’re forgiven.”
Ellie flicks her gaze to your mouth and slowly loses all sense of reality. There’s a moment where she registers that she has to say something, you know – speak. But watching the way your teeth tug at your bottom lip seems far more interesting, and useful, too.
“Um – I should,” you start, motioning behind you. “Yeah fuck, err,” Ellie stutters, snapping out of it. She laughs to dispel the nerves, and you’re both awkwardly laughing, flushed and nervous.
When you’re out of the door, Ellie watches you leave. She leans on the frame and finds herself fighting the urge to say something. Turns out she doesn’t have the energy to fight very hard.
“Better than the last guy?” she quirks, pulling her arms under her chest. You twist, beaming, “Oh – you have no idea. He dealt out the back of the cafeteria, smelt like old socks and cabbage.” Ellie frowns. “Mike?” she asks, knowing exactly who you were buying from. Your features widen in recognition, “Yeah! You know him?” “Yeah – he’s fucking weird. Creepy. Doesn’t surprise me he was leaving notes in the bags.” Ellie shakes her head, then nods to you. Her smile goes friendly. Twists into her cheek, “promise there’s no love notes in that bag, only weed.” You walk backwards, grinning. Suddenly, your features turn playful, and you chew on your bottom lip, squinting, “Awh, think I was kinda hoping for a love note.” Ellie's heart stops. Her eyes widen, and a rush of adrenaline hits her. She wonders if she heard you correctly, then yeah – you definitely said that. She goes to respond – reaches for something witty and cute to respond back with, but when she opens her mouth, no words come out. She manages to make a small, pitiful choke, and you giggle at her.
Ellie melts. “See ya,” you call out. Your voice echoes through the hallway as you descend.
The puddle that is Ellie rests in the frame for a second before she finds the willpower to scoop herself off of the floor and scramble inside, grabbing for her phone. Dina answers, voice groggy.
“Hello?” she groans, a serious attitude in her tone. Ellie ignores it -- doesn’t hear it, really. Too busy hearing the echo of your giggle as you turned her into soup. “Dina, what the fuck,” she spits.
The ghost of your perfume is still in her living room -- orange and grapefruit. “What?” Dina sneers. “You didn’t tell me she looked like that!” There’s a beat where Dina catches up, “Like what?” “Cute!” “Oh,” she pauses. “Wait, yeah I did.” “Yes but, like -- fuck.”
Ellie can’t think. She must have left some of her brain cells on the hallway floor. “Really cute,” she manages. She starts to spiral.
“She was really polite, too. Like, smiley and polite and was like, no worries! And I literally – I literally forgot that she had to pay, Dina. She pulled her purse out and was like, oh yeah.” “Jesus Christ.” “Then she started talking about her old dealer who was really weird—” “Yeah, Mike. She told me about the love notes.” “Yes! Yeah!” she nearly yells. “When she left, I jokingly went ‘don’t worry, there’s no love notes, only weed.’ And she fucking—” she smacks her forehead, “--fucking said, Awh, I was kinda hoping for a love note.”
There’s silence on the other line. Then a resounding, “Oh.” “Yes,” Ellie agrees. “Oh, exactly. I nearly pissed myself, Dina. I stood there, completely silent, staring at her like a weirdo. Please tell me she’s like that with everyone.” “No, she’s quite reserved, actually. Quiet – Ellie, what have you done to my sweet, innocent girl?”
Ellie paces in her living room. The speed makes your perfume swirl, and she has to open a window to think straight. The cool air hits her flushed face, settling her swarming nerves. She breathes in the fresh scent, heart rattling. Her fingers are numb.
“I’m having a gay panic attack and it’s all your fault.” Dina barks a laugh, saying, “If it’s that bad, just say you can’t deal to her anymore,” and Ellie’s silent. Contemplative. Dina knows exactly what she’s thinking. “But you won’t do that, because you’re basically in love with her already.” “Din, she had a Hello Kitty weed box. Like – “she closes her eyes, and whispers, “what the fuck?” Dina turns sarcastic, “Oh no, not the Hello Kitty weed box.” “Not funny, Dina. Really think she’s the love of my life.”
She plops onto the sofa. Dina speaks, “Should I start calling the U-Haul?” Ellie scoffs, “Shut up.” She fiddles with the fabric of her couch, running her fingers across the seams, and then slipping them between the cushions. She encounters something small and hard. “—the hell?” she mutters, pulling it out. She blinks at it. “Oh my god.” “What?”
Ellie holds the stick into the light, reading the bright label. “She left her lip-gloss here.” “Oh, would you look at that. She’s moving in already.”
The lip gloss sits on Ellie’s coffee table for days before she plucks up the courage to text you.
Holding the stick to a particularly clean part of her living room, she takes a snap of it, before sending it to you with, Hey, this yours? and throwing her phone at her sofa cushions, rushing into her bedroom as if it were a bomb.
When she thinks it’s safe to come out, it’s been an hour. 
She’s even managed to forget that she’s texted you, so when she picks her battered phone up and sees a response from you, she thinks, Oh my God, she’s made the first move. Disappointment and a tinge of shame flood her when she realises.
LOOOL, yes, that’s mine, you text, then, Imagine if it wasn’t.
Ellie goes to say, oh no, apart from Dina, you’re the only girl I’m dealing to, but it would be easier if she just wrote I AM SINGLE! on a flag and planted it outside her apartment.
She manages, lol.
Sorry, must have dropped it. Kay if I get it next time I pick up?
Ellie’s heart clenches. She has to start taking turns of her apartment like an Austen protagonist to stop herself from short-circuiting from energy overload. She texts, Yeah, that’s chill.
You sure you don’t want it? think that colour would suit you:)
Ellie smirks, more of a ChapStick girl.
I guessed that.
Her face twists, pausing. What does that mean? She responds.
I wasn’t trying to insult you!!! Just. The baggy clothes. Flannel shirt. Ellie’s texting, thumbs smashing as she responds with, It’s not flannel, just a shirt. Your three bubbles pop up, ohhhh right right, sorry sorry.
Ellie should have left it. Should have gone, well, that’ll be the extent of our flirty banter. But she’s writing, I can’t believe you’re calling me a chapstick lesbian rn. Your response is immediate, Nah uh, you said that! I implied it. No weed for you, Ellie lies. Nooooooo, pls don’t make me go back to Mike. Your own fault. Hope you like ravioli cause that’s what the cafeteria had for lunch! :((((((((( don’t be a meanie!!!!!
Okay, maybe you’re forgiven.
Weeks pass, and you come, and you go. Ellie tries to keep things casual. Professional. Still, she cannot help the excitement that floods when she gets a text from her busted phone.
Hey:) you’d text, I’m tryna buy tonight if you’re available!!
She reads into your messages, thinking, she must like me, she used two exclamation marks. Two!
She gets silly and dumb with it. Overthinks your interactions. Overthinks the brush of your fingers when you took your Lip-gloss from her.
Usually, she’d have the stuff ready at the door, but now she’s finding herself inviting you in, and then sorting the bag, so she could be around you longer.
She starts remembering your outfits, for fucks sake.
Holds onto every little comment you make.
Overthinks every time you brush past her, or every time she opens her front door to you.
Sometimes, she dreams about it -- just the revolving images of her door opening, revealing you behind it. You’re wearing the same bright, excitable smile, every time.
In a particularly low moment, she found herself in CVS at the perfume counter, smelling different samples, trying to figure out what scent you were wearing when you first met.
She doesn’t tell Dina that. She does, however, tell her everything else.  
When she sees you around campus, her day is immediately made. She doesn’t ignore you like she does with her other customers, no. She says hi. Sees you at a coffee shop, waiting for your order, and says, “Hey.”
You grin, genuine happiness on your face from seeing her. “Hey you.”
Ellie thinks about it for weeks. Dina hears about it for days.
“She said hey you, Dina.” “I know, Ellie. You told me yesterday.”
You’re polite, a little flirty, but Ellie thinks it’s just…no. She does think you like her, but she won’t let herself think it’s anything more than friendly. It’s just business.
Then she gets a text.
Ellie’s at Dina's, half watching a movie, half dozing off. 
Dina’s already asleep and has been for the last hour. She promised she wouldn’t, then was out like a light. Ellie’s nearly blacked out, too, and she’s about to pass out when the sound of her phone pinging makes her flinch. 
She’s groggy, so she’s slow to pull it out of her bag, but when she does, she’s wide awake.
She freezes like a deer in headlights. Then she snaps to Dina, needing to tell someone. She grabs her arm and shakes it violently. Her friend goes to smack her.
“Jesus Ellie! Get the fuck off of me!” Dina bats her hand away. Ellie grabs at her friend's palm, squeezing. “She texted!” she squeals, giggling like a schoolgirl. Dina yanks her hand away, “Okay, but you don’t have to abuse me.”
Saw you in the Library having a serious study sesh.
Then, wanted to say hi, but wasn’t sure if we were cool like that.
Ellie collapses back onto the sofa, “I’m gonna piss myself.” “Lemme see,” Dina goes, yanking the phone from her. She blinks at the busted screen. Her eyes widen.
“Oh fuck, Ellie,” Dina whispers. “This is the moment. This is the make-or-break moment.” “What do I say!” Ellie nearly shouts. Dina leans back on the sofa, pushing her black hair back. She shrugs, “depends on what you want.” “I want to curl up in a ball and live in her backpack is what I want.” “I dare you to text that.” “Dinnnnaaaaaa,” Ellie whines, falling back onto the cushions. Dina pushes Ellie’s feet away from her. “Elllllieeeee, you just pulled me from a deep sleep. My ability to flirt with girls is at a minus two right now.”
Ellie stares at the text. She drafts a response, and then edits it, taking out some prepositions and adding some dashes to sound more casual. She comes up with:
Hey, you shoulda said hi! It wasn’t all that serious – spent most of it watching old episodes of the x files.
Dina leans over. Her thick brow quirks. “That’s you flirting?” Ellie purses her lips, “No, this is me being friendly.” Dina pulls back, “I thought you wanted to fuck her,”
Ellie looks at her as if she’s silly. “Of course I want to fuck her, but I can’t just say that.”
“No, but you’ve just spoken about Aliens. My dick is limp right now.”
Ellie throws a pillow at her, “I’m gonna punch you in your limp dick.”
Ellie’s phone beeps. She scrambles to read, Oh my god, which season? I started it from the beginning again a couple of months ago.
The phone is brandished in Dina’s face.
“See – a common interest.” Dina huffs, “whatever, if you wanna go the whole slow burn route, that’s fine with me.”
Ellie sits back against the sofa, readying her thumbs to respond, before feeling a warm flutter of breath tickle her ear. She turns, and Dina’s right there, peering over her shoulder. She hides the phone.
“I can’t flirt with you watching me!”
“You just said you were being friendly!”
“I’m about to start flirting!”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” her friend sarcastically drags, “I didn’t hear the starter pistol to know the race was starting.”
“You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know,” Dina sighs, resting her chin on Ellie’s shoulder. “But I’m also hilarious.”
We should hang out and watch it if you want, Ellie texts. Then, quickly, totally cool if u don’t wanna tho!
Dina hisses, “Fumbled the bag.” “I’m being nice.” “Yeah, too nice.” ���It’s cute.” “It’s booorrrrringgg. Just write, Netflix and chill? With a winky face.” “X files isn’t on Netflix anymore.” “Not what I meant.” “I know, I’m choosing to ignore what you meant.”
Yeah, I’d be down:) lemme know a time, and I’ll be there.
Dina pulls back with a sigh, “The ball is in your court, Els.”
  Ellie doesn’t let you know a time.
In fact, she doesn’t respond at all. She gets busy with schoolwork, due dates, and her uncle, who’s visiting for a few weeks. She always means to respond, but days pass, and she thinks it would be awkward to message now.
Desperate, even.
The cracked screen of her busted phone mocks her. Ellie tries to draft a message, Hey, sorry for going quiet. Been busy.
But she deletes it. Thinks, she’s only being nice to me for a deal. Only wants to hang for free weed.
It’s happened before – it’s destined to happen again.
She’s so overwhelmed with these sudden self-deprecating thoughts, that she starts thinking them in her sleep.
You’re desperate, you’re needy. Why would she want you?
She goes somewhere dark. Cloudy. Starts getting restless but can’t sleep. Starts crashing during lectures, and seminars – in art class, brush still in hand.
One day, Dina grabs her shoulders, just message her. Why are you torturing yourself?
Ellie doesn’t text.
You text her.
Hey!! okay if I pick up?
But she’s asleep when it comes through.
She wakes, three hours later, with the keys of her laptop indented on her cheek. When she reads your test, she jerks up straight.
Yes! She writes, inhibitions suddenly gone with the wind. Soz, crashed mid-essay.
She stares at the message screen for a second, waiting for your response. When it doesn’t come, she locks her phone, rubs her face and gets up to get a drink. But when she stands, she pauses and taps her phone again. 
She even unlocks it, wondering if maybe your response didn’t reach her home screen yet.
The thing about Ellie is --she’s eager.
She pretends to be nonchalant about things. Pretends that the little grin you gave her at the coffee shop didn’t affect her, or the small, smiley faces in your texts don’t give her pause. She tries to convince herself that she doesn’t fall easily. With herself, she’s a little liar. With you, though…
She types if u went back to Mike I’ll die.
The whooshing sound of the text sending fills her ears, and then she pauses, realising what she’s said. “Jesus, Ellie,” she mumbles, shaking her head at herself. She locks her phone, dumps it on the table, and then drags herself into the kitchen.
You don’t respond for an hour. She’s making dinner when her phone buzzes, and she flinches like a startled animal. She manages to stir her pasta again a grand total of once before she reaches for her phone.
Would never!! I’m a loyal customer, would never cheat on u.
Ellie’s belly flips. She stares at your big watery eye filled emoji for far too long. You’re still texting.
Tho you didn’t text me about x files:(
Ellie’s thumbs smash into the screen, I’m sorry!!! classes picked up, I’m swamped.
Your response of, awh, okay. I was waiting near the phone for your message:( fills her with so much glee that it makes her sick. She’s about to write, you’re so fucking cute, when your message comes through.
Okay if I pick up now? No worries if ur doing something.
Ellie looks down at her baggy sweats and coffee-stained tank. She’s rushing into the bedroom to change as she texts, Nah, It’s chill. Lmk when ur here.
When she opens the door, you’re standing on her welcome mat, wearing a pretty, flowy summer dress.
She thanks the lord she changed.
Still in sweatpants – though, cleaner ones, -- she’s wearing her favourite top, the one that’s a little too tight, and sits just above the band of her trousers, showing a strip of muscular skin.
She was so nervous waiting for you to come, that she’d smoked beforehand. She’s got the familiar tingle in her limbs, but she’s pretty sure it’s from seeing you in this dress.
She gives you a quick once over, or at least, she thinks it’s quick, but when she glances back at you, you’re looking up at her with a raised brow. She flushes red and clears her throat.
“Hey – “she smiles, then nods to you, “--you look nice.”
Nice doesn’t cover it. She’s never seen so much skin. The dress is fitted, and it clutches your waist, sinching under your breasts. She looks at the bloom of your chest, then immediately glances away, trying to hide the flutter in her lower stomach.
You grin, “thank you,” and you splay your hands out at your waist, shaking them, as if to say, look at me!
Ellie nearly faints from the cuteness.
“Dinner party later,” you explain. “Right.” “Yeah – s’on the way.” She nods, lost in looking at you. You’ve got a splay of glitter in the corner of your eyes, making the bloom of colour pop. There’s shimmer and blush on your cheeks, too. Your lips are the colour of ripe cherries, and she wants nothing more than to lean in and taste.
She breaks out of her trance, shaking her head and widening her eyes at the floor, “right – er, fuck. Sorry.”  
You giggle at her, licking the corner of your lips. “s’okay.”
“I haven’t sorted your shit, gimmie a minute. Come in.”
You brush past her, and a cloud of sweetness follows you. Candyfloss, Ellie thinks, and apple.
She closes the door and turns to you. The dress is tight at your hips, too, bursting out over your thighs. You’re wearing a simple heeled sandal. Ellie stares at your lavender-painted toes.
You spin, dress swirling, “you should have told me you were cooking.” Her pasta simmers happily. “Oh no! it’s fine -- Making pasta, not really cooking.”
She shrugs, “This won’t take long anyway.”
Depends on how long I can drag it out for.
“Eighth, right?” she asks, walking towards her bedroom. When she turns over her shoulder to look for your answer, she swears she catches you looking at her ass. You glance up, caught. It’s her turn to raise her brows at you.
“Er, yeah,” you stutter, “You got any pre-rolled? My friends wanna smoke, too.”
She taps her hand against the doorway, thinking. “Ah, shit. No – I can roll it for you, though?” You nod, and she disappears into her room.
When she comes out, you’re stirring her pasta.
When Ellie was younger, people would talk.
They noticed her lack of boyfriends and her inclination towards girls. She’ll grow out of it, they said. Ellie had never seen her sexuality as something she could ‘grow’ out of. Years later, when she didn’t grow out of it, she started imagining what her life would look like. Imagined a wife and a house that would home her.
Imagined walking into her kitchen, and finding this very sight.
Ellie pauses. Catches herself in the daydream of resting behind you, placing her palms on your waist and kissing the back of your head – thanks for making dinner, baby.
“Oh, sorry,” you sheepishly apologise, grabbing her attention. “It was boiling over.” Ellie holds her palms up. “No argument from me.”
She pads to her coffee table, and sits down on the sofa, leaning over to start rolling for you. Seconds later, she looks up and catches you cracking pepper and salt into the pot. Jesus fucking Christ.
You pad around, dress swaying as you open cupboards, looking for something.  
When did you get so bold?
“You got any chilli flakes?” “Hm?” Ellie hums, a little dazed. You spin to her, your features anticipatory, “Chilli flakes.” “Oh, err. Yeah. In the bottom cupboard to the left.” The nervous tilt of your brow is back, but there’s a small smile there, too. “Can I put them in?”
Ellie opens her mouth in pause. You rush, “Just a bit, just a teensy bit. I’m telling you, it turns quick cook pasta into a gourmet meal.”
You can do whatever you want.
Ellie nods, not trusting her voice. You hurry around excitedly.
“What’re you putting it with?” “Just. Bought pasta sauce.” “Where is it?” “In the cupboard.”
You reach for it.
Ellie goes to tell you to stop, but fuck, she’s mid-fantasy now. She’s saying Honey, I’m home, and walking into the kitchen, finding you cooking for her in a pretty dress.
You leave the pan on the stove.
“Just heat the sauce, okay? I’ve put some herbs and spices in it.” Ellie feels cosy – feels taken care of. The feeling sits low in her belly, oozing into her bloodstream. “You didn’t have to do that.”
You shrug, near swaying towards her. Ellie’s making sure the roll-ups are neat and tidy looking -- taking her time for you.
“How much for the papers and your services?” you quirk. She glances at you from beneath her lashes, then drags her tongue over the paper, and swears she sees you follow the trail of her mouth. The high is there, pulsating in her veins.
“So professional,” she jokes, tone teasing, earning herself a giggle. You walk over, plopping yourself down on the carpet near her table, dress fanned out around you like a peacock. “I’m a professional lady.”
You reach for the bag, starting to roll one. Ellie watches you. Watches you lean over, breasts jostling as you reach.
“Helpful, too,” she comments, and you beam, smiling as you spread the weed over the paper.
Ellie wants nothing more than to see that smile forever.
She’s calm now, the weed she’d smoked making her bold. It gives her the courage to look at you, no holds barred. Her red-rimmed eyes flick over your soft features. 
The balmy air outside has caused a light sheen of sweat to build over your clavicle. A small bead of liquid slides down, and Ellie watches it descend, imagining reaching over and licking it off of you, tasting salt and the apple of your perfume.
Her body warms, tense with anticipation. She doesn’t snap out of it.
You’re too busy rolling to notice, but she does see you straighten your back, perking to attention.
“Um’ being serious,” you comment, consciously rubbing where she’s looking. Ellie catches your eyes.
“Consider making my dinner and seeing you in that pretty dress as payment.”
There’s that grin again. You beam at her, tongue gliding over the paper, and fuck, Ellie’s chest clenches. Her lower belly pulsates, pushing lower. “Does this dress also get me a discount?” you quirk. Yes, Ellie thinks. Fuck, do that again and you can get this shit for free. But she manages to catch herself. “Don’t push it, babe.”
Your smile twists, suddenly a little flustered. Ellie hears the echo of the endearment in her ears. If she wasn’t high, she probably wouldn’t have said that. Still, the word fits on her lips, and it seems that you like it as you reach up to nervously itch your shoulder. You shrug at her, the movement pushing your tits together, “can’t blame a girl for trying.” “No,” Ellie grins, and she catches your eyes. “I can’t.”
Ellie ends up giving you the discount anyway. There’s a voice in the back of her head saying, told you so. But then she’s seeing the knife and fork you left out for her on her countertop. Sees the napkin you folded, then rested on top of a plate.
Wife, she thinks. Wife wife wife.
“Thanks for this,” you smile, putting the roll-ups in your case. Ellie does not look at your tits. She does not look at your tits. Instead, she shrugs, “thanks for cooking for me.” Your smile coils into your cheek, warm and inviting, “Any time.”
When you leave, Ellie leans her head against her closed door, the wood cooling her warm body. Her stomach clenches. The ache that built there holds strong, and there’s a funny fuzz in her head, drunk on the remaining perfume that lingers in her living room.
She reaches down, mindlessly sliding her hand between her thighs. Her nerves spike, causing a shudder of breath to shake through her.
“Fuck sake, Ellie,” she groans. She clenches her fingers tighter, pushing up into the warm ache, and finds herself whispering your name.
She starts to realise why your old dealer fell in love with you.
PART TWO. 
6K notes · View notes
elliesbelle · 15 days
Text
texts with college gf ellie
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part 2
you and ellie have started living in an off-campus apartment together ♡︎
content warnings: dealer!ellie, cursing, mentions of marijuana, sexual content, mentions of sex, mentions of a strap-on, a bit of sexting, references to a strap-on as a "dick", mentions of penetrative sex, slight mention of a little daddy kink, minors do not interact
texts with domestic gf!ellie: part 1, part 2, part 3
texts with college gf!ellie: part 1, part 2
texts with gf!abby found on my masterlist here
i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎
we will see a free palestine
keep the lesbian flag creator alive
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author's notes:
haven't done one of these in a while, so hope y'all enjoy this <3
first two convos are inspired by recent text convos between me and my live-in ex lmao (she was mad af when i fell asleep instead of unlocking the door cause she pushed into the front door expecting it to be unlocked and she spilled coffee on herself 😭)
also the uno convo is also inspired by the time my best friend and her gf were visiting me and we were playing uno with live-in ex and live-in ex was drunk and got mad as hell bc she apparently grew up with different uno rules slkdfjsdkl
making these reminded me to repair a few of my lingerie pieces cause i've been slacking on sewing them back ugh
also idk why this ended up being really sexy at the end oops well i hope y'all enjoyed anyway lol
636 notes · View notes
itsbecomeblue · 5 months
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texts with gf!ellie short smau
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sinopse: some texts and a post by gf!ellie
cw: nsfw, explicit sexting, swearing, not explicit if reader is fem or masc, established relationship, implicit dealer!ellie, modern!au.
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kokomos · 2 months
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 ✴    new habits die hard     ࣭     ๋  𖥔 ݁  ˖  ‏☽
— starring    AU!  LUKE CASTELLAN !  ♆
 ��⤷     ⅱ. new habits die hard
MDNI 18+
warning : weed! suggestive themes (not explicit)
alternate universe : takes place in an au! where there are no gods, or demigods for that matter. luke lives with his mother, alone, and takes care of her full-time when he's not off doing odd jobs for the locals.
description : after moving several states away from his home in suburban connecticut, luke found himself in unfamiliar territory and in need of a new plug. lucky for him, you're the town's resident drug dealer.
tags : fem! reader, dealer! reader, loser! luke, au! luke; dom! reader if you squint, subby! luke; luke and reader are both heavy stoners, reader is high during the exchange.
how luke got this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity was beyond him. a girl dealer. after a year or so of nothing but egotistical and overly competitive men—luke needed this, needed you.
there he stood: in the confines of some shabby little trailer, on the outskirts of town, that you called home. his cheeks were flushed, tints of red betraying him as he tried his best to remain stoic in your presence. despite the fact that you were obviously high, luke still couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze for more than a few seconds at a time.
not that you noticed, or at least you didn't at first; you were too busy leisurely packaging his eighth. your eyes were trained on the scale as you weighed the strain of his choice out, shifting focus to neatly tuck the nugs away into a tiny, pink baggie. a heart embellished the shimmering plastic, a signature that this was from your supply. luke wondered for a moment if there was anyone in town who actually didn't prefer using you—for dealing purposes, of course.
your arm extends out towards your new (favorite) customer. “here you go,” you chirp jovially with a smile. in your hand holds the eighth, sealed and stuffed to the brim.
maybe you gave him more than he paid for, just a bit. but what further justification did you need other than the fact that he was cute, and kinda shy—you liked that in a guy.
he freezes for a moment before reaching out to procure the package, meeting your gaze momentarily before dropping his attention to your hand. a smirk graces your face, delighted, or more accurately amused, by the realization dawning on you.
once the product's out of your possession, he hastily stuffs the eighth away in the pocket of his sweatpants. luke tilts his head up to thank you, but seems to freeze yet again when he finds your eyes scanning his form.
“if you were my boyfriend,” you start abruptly and he watches your eyes slowly meet his, “i wouldn't let you walk around like that.”
his cheeks heat up exponentially, the color darkens against his skin, and he has to stop himself from crumbling entirely when he observes that teasing look you've got plastered across your face. shameless and cruel, by his regard. still, he couldn't deny that he was enjoying every second of it.
he did look pretty slutty, to be frank. a black, tight-fit shirt hugging his abs and those gray sweatpants—they looked amazing on him, but you'd argue they would look even better on the grotty floor of the trailer's one bedroom. your master suite.
following your titillating remark, he swallowed his next breath and let his eyes travel down to survey the clothes he so carelessly threw on hours before. “like… what?” he asked, seeming so nervous that it wouldn't be too far-fetched for someone to misidentify him as utterly terrified.
you chuckle lightly prior to indulging in his curiosity, “like you wanna fuck.”
his eyes instantly snap to yours and his cheeks flare an even deeper maroon. “what?” he nearly chokes on the word. “that's—not,” he stutters, “i was working out before and—”
you cut his pitiful excuse for a defense short, “you've got pretty eyes.” sincerity bleeds through the drug-fueled haze, “it's a shame you don't let me see ‘em too much.”
and without another word, or glance in his direction, you reach for the pre-roll on the table to your left and spark up. he watches intently as you take the first pull, how your plump and glossy lips wrap so delicately around the end of the joint. when your eyes flicker to him, as you exhale some of the smoke, he looks away.
“you gonna pay me or...?” you trail off, keeping a flirtatious tune in your voice. he fumbles around for what he owes in his other pocket, and hands the cash over with a ‘thank you’ and a rather bashful smile.
he leaves the encounter with an eighth in his pocket, your mellifluous voice engraved in his memory, and the feeling that this would only be the start of a new (bad) habit.
ᡣ𐭩  with love , honey
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genocidehim · 1 year
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Ojos así (Tuco Salamanca x dealer!Reader)
Just two idiots thinking they can be drug dealers. Domingo isn't exactly a good role model, but money is convincing enough. If it weren't for your boss, everything would be fine.
notes: one-shot, use of pronouns she/her. words: 1118
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In the last five years, your life has taken so many turns that what you're experiencing doesn't even feel real. Recently, you started university, but the money you have is not enough to maintain a decent standard of living, especially when your parents are living in a very difficult economic situation.
You had started working at Tampico Furniture a year ago and were lucky enough to become close friends with Domingo Molina and his father, the owner of the furniture store. Although the salary was decent, it did not fully cover the expenses of your life. You mentioned this to Domingo one afternoon while they were having lunch together, and he mentioned that his friend knew someone who knew another person who was offering a job that paid a lot of money, something you could verify when Domingo once showed you a large stack of bills while you were eating reheated nuggets with cold rice. You could hardly believe it at that moment. However, it was not a job that could be done easily, much less something that was moral. You didn't know how a young man like Domingo could be involved in a drug distribution network. Was it necessary to question that? It was the least expected thing you would learn about him, but even if it was problematic, your morals were capable of turning a blind eye and even contributing to it if it meant being able to have a higher extra income to cover your needs. This is how you ended up caught up in this shit as a small drug dealer, a role you could play with discretion because your "good girl" profile didn't raise suspicions. The police wouldn't be able to keep an eye on you when you looked like a little puppy about to run away with its tail between its legs all the time, or at least that's what you tried to convey and you were doing a good job of it. Domingo and you were good at your job, and you even received a compliment from your boss Nacho once, a tough-looking guy with broad shoulders who didn't seem opposed to the idea of having a woman selling his merchandise.
Although Domingo usually took care of delivering the money to your boss, that day he had asked you to accompany him. You didn't understand why until you met him at that Mexican restaurant.
Domingo and you were sitting at one end of the cold plastic table, while on the other side were Nacho and a slightly stockier man with a killer gaze who didn't take his eyes off them as soon as they entered the place.
It was a ridiculous situation in the eyes of this man, watching two kids come in through the tinkling door while wearing the same uniform with a horrible green color and the most pathetic looks of fear he had ever seen. Tuco, that was the name Nacho revealed to you when they introduced themselves before sitting down. The man remained silent throughout the whole ordeal while Domingo trembled as he took the money with his shaking hands and placed it on the table for the two of them to count. You could see how Tuco was the first to count the money, observing how his large hands carefully sorted through the bills while his dark gaze lingered on the money, Domingo, and you. He took longer pauses to look directly into your eyes without a clear intention.
In the face of his hard gaze, Tuco only saw two trembling children seeking comfort in Nacho, who seemed totally indifferent and only concerned himself with rolling up the money to put it away. He also noticed how Tuco seemed somewhat more curious than usual, with a less accusatory and more curious look.
Genuinely, he was somewhat surprised. When Nacho told him that there was a girl working for them, he laughed with contempt and imagined that she would be another junkie in need of money who would sell anything to get some fix. But seeing you there, timid and trembling, made something twist inside of him. At the end of the day, he was just a man and he could admit that he found you somewhat attractive. The first thing he noticed was your fresh perfume scent. Had you dressed up to see them? It was a tender gesture, even with that horrible uniform, he could tell that you were attractive to the eye. And your eyes.
That was the first thing he tried to decipher when you sat right in front of him. Your small eyes looked at him with terror and he found it fascinating. He normally didn't scare girls, or at least not "his girls" who looked at him with desire and a certain playfulness.
And then there was you, with your nervous gaze that shifted between Nacho, Domingo, and him.
Tuco began to feel uncomfortable when an idea formed in his head, and that was that he wanted you to look at him with more attention, to leave the man beside you and only have eyes for him. Only for him.
"Tuco" Nacho's demanding voice snapped him out of his mental trance.
Although he continued to maintain his gaze on you, you could tell how his shoulders relaxed and his back leaned back. Hoping that this intense gaze exchange would end before you fell apart from nerves.
The whole situation felt dangerous from your point of view, well, from everyone's point of view except Tuco's.
For some reason, you were filled with true terror that paralyzed you and made you swallow hard until Nacho decided to end your torture.
"Okay... Go."
It was the first time you heard Tuco's voice and you almost trembled. It was ridiculous how much power he had over you without even trying. When you received approval, you and Domingo sighed in relief and said polite goodbyes, almost as if you were twin siblings acting in sync. Very ridiculous.
"See you next week, Tuco" Domingo said in a more confident tone accompanied by a nervous smile, which you decided to imitate.
"Nacho" you said your superior's name as a farewell and last words before following Domingo out with a forced nervous smile, which Tuco would notice instantly.
He allowed himself to be bold and watched you walk away, confirming his theory that the horrible uniform looked better on you. He even found it adorable how your voice trembled when you said the other guy's name, something he would regret because he wished to hear his name coming out of your lips, and now this became personal.
Domingo was just happy not to be the intimidated one this week.
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This will probably become a series of Tuco x dealer!Reader one-shots because I have fallen in love with this dynamic aaaaaaa
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stxrslut · 11 days
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dealer!jj who coaches you through your first ever bad trip :(
he’s seen plenty of his clients have bad trips before, he knows sometimes the body goes haywire, he doesn’t often acknowledge it much. If they text him frantically he’ll just mute their number. if they call, he’ll tell them to drink a glass of water and then hang up. if they happen to be at his place when it happens, he’ll do the courtesy of driving them back to their own home to deal with it by themselves.
but when you stumble up onto his patio, looking distressed and far too pale for comfort, he’s up in an instant. you’re one of his more… lightweight clients, he’ll admit that. but something more than that is going on right now.
“jj— help,” you whimper, tripping over and nearly falling, but he catches you just in time. he looks panicked, his eyes wide as he looks you over and tries to figure out what’s happening.
when he catches on he immediately calms down, because he knows how to handle this “oh oh— okay. you’re okay.” he gently guides you over towards the couch and onto his lap.
you curl up and cling to him, his body is warm, and it’s soothing compared to the freezing cold you’re currently experiencing. “what’s happening to me?” you’re voice shakes as tears stream down your cheeks.
he shushes you, brushing a stand of hair out of your face “you’re havin’ a bad trip sweetie. It’s okay.” he presses a kiss to your temple. “told you not to smoke the whole thing at once…” he murmurs, still doing his best to soothe your panicked self with gentle touches.
“I didn’t mean to,” you sniffle “but everyone was tellin’ me to and- and I didn’t- I couldn’t say no!” jj’s gaze is sympathetic, he’s been subject to peer pressure a few times himself, and he knows that it’s even worse when the consequences suck.
“gotta stop lettin’ people walk all over you sweetie— gonna get you hurt one day.” he chastises gently, trying his best not to be accusatory in your vulnerable moment. you just cry more “stop tellin’ me off!” you wail, hitting him on the chest weakly as you try to out your frustration. “okay— okay. you’re okay. we’re gonna get you feeling better in no time…”
the next few hours are a bit of a blur, at one point you got real dizzy, at another point you couldn’t stop laughing, at another point you vomited all over yourself.
jj takes good care of you, he changes your clothes and calms you down when you panic. he cuddles up with you so you can find some solace in his touch. it’s very late at night when you finally start to come out of it.
you’re curled up at jj’s side on the couch, exhausted. he’s got one of his shitty old dystopian movies playing on the tv, and he’s helping you take sips of water every few minutes.
your head hurts, jj had told you to expect that when you sobered up. “I think m’ feelin’ better…” you murmur, burrowing further into his chest, eyes half lidded already.
“yeah? s’good sweetie.” he smiles, giving the top of your head another kiss. he knows he’s being too touchy, but he’s decided that until you’re back to 100%, then it’s excusable.
“think I might be hungry…” you muse, and he chuckles, “‘m afraid you probably don’t want anything from my pantry, unless you have a taste for stale beer and mould..” he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, and then speaks again “actually I might have some soup— oh…”
he stops in his tracks when he realises that you’ve fallen asleep on him. he lets out a sigh of relief at the fact that you’re finally better, before attempting to move from under you.
you whine, pulling him back down, face set in a sleepy frown. he chuckles, laying back down where he was. “okay— I’ll stay…”
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cal-flakes · 2 months
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Dealer Rafe x dumb crybaby bimbo reader Where the readers just like a casual hook up to rafe, but she doesn’t understand that’s all she is. So she’s get all upset and cry’s to rafe asking why she can’t be around him all the time.
(This could also be easier if one of them is already in a relationship and that why they can’t be together all the time and can only hook up)
Sorry sweetheart I know this is a long request.
i imagine this isn’t quite what you wanted, but i simply couldn’t handle rafe not being that into me.
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‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆
— “what aren’t you getting kid? w’hooked up a couple times, end of” he sneered, patience wearing thin as your meek sniffles echoed through the phone. “no! no rafe! you told me to call you if i needed you!” you pleaded, chipped and bitten nails tapping anxiously against your phone case. “yeah, for coke. not whenever you needed to get off, jesus” rafe sighed, wiping his forehead in exasperation, desperate to get off the phone.
he didn’t understand it himself, his unwillingness to simply end the call, block your number, it wasn’t like him. he had a lengthy list of blocked contacts, and usually never struggled to add to it— but not you, there was something about you that had him relenting. whether it was the hold he had on you, causing an eagerness to please he’d never experienced before, or simply just your pretty tits, he didn’t know.
what he did know, was that he was rafe cameron, the rafe cameron. there was no chance he was going to let himself be tied down so soon, he’d barely relished in the lifestyle of the islands most popular supplier before he met you, and he couldn’t let you get in the way of that.
after some back and forth, you’d told yourself one last plea, your last straw of dignity before you gave up. “please rafe! i just— i just need you! jus’ one last time rafey, please” you cried, pulling a lip between your teeth as your fingers crossed.
a final huff of air left his nose as he chucked his head back, internally cringing at your begs. he almost felt bad for letting this go on so long, he should’ve shut it down a while ago, it wasn’t fair. “fine, one last time. m’serious kid, alright?”
that definitely wasn’t the last time.
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starkeyisthelastname · 2 months
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how i imagine dealer!rafe 🤑🤑🤑
he loves to flaunt his wealth, is a total asshole most of the time and gives off major big dick energy. he listens to future, lil durk and g-herbo. he is only about making money and getting a nut and never wanting anything serious. that was until you walked in to that party, the prettiest thing he ever saw wanting some weed and willing to ride his dick for it at that. for the first time he wants to make someone his and that’s exactly what he does. he spoils you rotten, handing you a stack of cash to go spend however you’d like. Definitely treats you like his princess, surprising you with boxes that read Hermès and Chanel. Wine and dining you at fancy restaurants and taking you out of the country on tropical getaways, all while he traps it out.
not to mention the dick he gives you. it’s a monster. he talks you through it. tells you how pretty you look while he drills your shit in. loves it nasty and rough. not afraid to fold you in half or stick it in your ass when he feels like it. he loves dirty talk, his voice never failing to make you cum.
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mattstunsgf · 23 days
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texts with flirty bff!matt
and flirty bff! reader 😁
sliiiightly toxic very shittily based on the request above
suggestive!
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