Three things to consider when becoming romantically involved with a dealer (from personal experience)
• There are no such thing as work hours. It could be 2 am or midnight, and someone will still be desperate enough to send that text or snapchat begging for a dimebag or a bump of coke. And when they do, whether you’re on a date or fucking or eating dinner with his family, he’ll get up and go because that’s his job. He’ll throw some cash on the table to cover the Buffalo Wild Wings bill or he’ll kiss you on the cheek, grab yesterday’s jeans off of the floor, and get pissed when he can’t find his keys and wallet in the bedsheets. You’ll learn to hate the ringtone of his phone, as everyday activities are interrupted by druggies looking for their next fix. Eventually, you’ll find yourself tagging along with him on car rides to meet strange people in quiet places, just so you can spend a little time with him. All of this is because dealing isn’t just a job. It’s a lifestyle, and it’s one that knows no such thing as vacation days.
• You’ll be expected to adapt and mold yourself into whatever the situation calls for. When the two of you are alone, you’re the playful, sexy girl he met in psychology class last year. You bring him takeout food to his part-time job and feel him up while he’s working on homework. You’ll roll blunts in bed together and hold his hand while you’re walking the dog. You’ll get into a tickle war, which turns into a full-fledged wrestling match from the bed to the floor to the couch, and only stops when the two of you roll into a stack of hundred dollar bills. He’ll jump up and start cursing as he obsessively gathers and counts his money, just to recount it again two more times. Around his family, you’re the sweet, quiet girl who works two jobs to put herself through college. His mom asks you questions about school and your family, and you’ll answer even though you know she isn’t listening. His little sister adores you because you read her Disney books before bed and you curled her hair for her kindergarten graduation. You’re the epitome of the girl next door. But when you’re around his customers, everything changes. You’re a chess piece in a much bigger game. He keeps you on his arm to symbolize his strength. You’re the polite yet distant girl with a nice ass, and his customers will simultaneously fear you and dream of fucking you. You’re not just there for him to show you off, though. You provide a second set of eyes, ears, and intuition, all of which are vital to running the business and keeping the two of you alive.
• Regardless of where you are or who you’re with, paranoia will become a never ending shadow. It will taint the good times and make the bad times almost unbearable. You know that all of this will come to an end someday, whether he quits or gets caught or gets hurt, and you pray to God that it’s not the latter. Every deal brings the two of you closer to the end, and you will push that thought into the back of your mind. Each van parked on the side of the road turns into an undercover cop, and you’ll hold your breath each time you see car lights shine into your bedroom window in the middle of the night as someone slowly drives by. Every time his snapchat crashes or his iPhone restarts, it will be your job to convince him that everything’s fine and of course his phone isn’t bugged because that only happens in movies. You will eventually realize that you were trying to reassure yourself more than him. Part of you knows that any minute, everything could blow up in your face, but you stay. Maybe it’s for the money, or the drugs, or the sex. Maybe it’s something deeper; the fear of change, the love of your partner, or the primal instinct of survival. You tell yourself, “Make it through today, and tomorrow will be better”. Someday it will either be better, or it will be over.
(Dating dealer of weed, wax, ecstasy, MDMA, prescription pills, shrooms, LSD, and cocaine)
Because I had a really fucked up dream last night and needed to counteract that, I wrote a Bambam fluff. Enjoy!
The pain hit me straight in the kidneys. They tensed
up, hard enough to cause me to double over slightly. I gasped and straightened
up, determined to smile through it. I only had fifteen minutes of my shift
left, and the customer I was helping smiled.
day, huh?” he asked.
nodded and he picked up the bag of groceries. “Have a nice day,” I sighed after
him as he left. Reaching back to massage my kidneys, I felt the rush from my
stomach hit me in the uterus. I froze, standing stock still and hoping it would
pass, but it didn’t. I was only wearing a pantyliner, as my luck would have it,
and as I turned to my coworker, the red river of death started. I could feel it. One look at me told her all she
needed to know.
she said. “I know. Just go.”
I nodded, and she put the REGISTER CLOSED sign on the edge of the conveyor
belt. I printed my x-read report, signed off and bolted for the bathroom,
realizing as I closed the door behind me that every spare tampon I carried with
me was in the car. I decided to slum it and go with rolled up toilet paper in
my underwear—which I (thankfully) happened to be wearing today. I finished my
business and counted down my drawer, and headed home with the thought of my
boyfriend and the king-sized candy bar I kept stashed between my side of the
bed and the wall on my mind.
I’m home!” I said as I trudged through the door, trying not to be too loud just
in case he was sleeping.
babe!” Bambam called from the game room.
I emerged from the bathroom, he was in the kitchen, scouring the fridge for
leftovers. He found my Chinese from two days before, and looked up from the box
to me, as if asking for permission. I grinned.
can only have it if I can have a kiss,” I breathed, leaning in close to him.
smiled back at me, bringing his free hand to rest on my kidney. I sighed as it
pulsed under his hand, trying not to voice my discomfort. It must’ve registered
on my face, because he put his box of takeout down and pressed his hands into
my back, kneading the skin there. I winced slightly and he hummed in understanding.
“That time of the month again?” he asked, and leaned down to kiss me gently. I
was your day, baby?” he asked, his lips pulling away from mine but his face still
sighed. “It wasn’t that bad until around half an hour before I had to leave. I’m
glad I’m home, though. I missed you.”
missed you, too,” he breathed, his lips pressing to mine again. He picked up
his Chinese and put it in the microwave, leaving me to run to the bedroom to
find my chocolate. I sprawled on the bed, pulling back the covers so I could
see between the wall and the frame, and came to find… nothing. I got off the
bed and looked underneath it, but to no avail. I got up off the floor with tremendous
effort, and found my boyfriend in the kitchen at the table with his chopsticks
in hand, going to town on my leftover chow mein.
Bambam said around a mouthful of noodles, turning his head to look at me with an
you… uh, have you seen the chocolate bar that was between the bed and the wall
on my side?”
I… might’ve eaten it the other day.” He
you didn’t bother to tell me?” The rage was boiling up inside me, completely
irrational, but I didn’t care. “You ate my
chocolate, the only thing I asked you specifically not to eat, and that I went to the lengths of hiding it under the
bed to keep safe, and then you had the audacity
not to tell me?!” I was full-on yelling by this point, and he was just kind
of staring in disbelief.
I’ll buy you another one,” he said, clearly trying to hold in his laughter.
don’t want another one. I want for you not to eat my fucking food the first
time,” I was getting more and more pissed by the second.
chocolate, babe. It’s candy. You’re
yelling at me over candy.” Bambam started laughing, and I stormed out of the
kitchen and into my bedroom. As soon as I was over the threshold, I slammed the
door, pressing my back against it. The light was already off, so I just flung
myself into bed, pulling all the covers over my head and curling into a ball. The
tears started streaming down my face and I let them, not bothering to wipe them
away. I hated being on my period. Everything upset me so much and there was
nothing I could do about it, plus my cramps were always so bad that I could
hardly move without it hurting, add to that the fact that I was bleeding and
miserable on top of it, and it was a shit show for one week every month.
boyfriend’s footsteps sounded in the hallway about twenty minutes later, and he
tapped lightly on the door.
can I come in?” Bambam cooed in his best ‘I’m
sorry I was such a jerk’ voice.
“Yeah, I guess,” I said
after a few minutes of deliberation.
let himself in, and closed the door behind him as he turned toward the bed. My
head was still under the covers and I was sniffling. He just climbed right in
next to me, took the position of big spoon, and wrapped his arms around my
sorry I ate your candy, and I’m sorry I laughed at you. I love you, baby. I was
just really hungry and I wanted something sweet.”
sorry I flipped out on you,” I mumbled, still not rolling over to face him. “It’s
been a long, hard day.”
know, honey…” he sighed, “let me take you out for ice cream.” He said, pressing
a soft kiss to my neck.
don’t wanna get dressed.”
don’t have to. We can go in our pajamas together if that’s what makes you my
happy girl again.” I could feel the grin slip across his face.
rolled over and pecked him on the lips. “You got yourself a deal there, pardner.”
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