Fics like (desire is) two hands wrapped around a throat

Lexi replies, “I’m here as a client.” Fez’s expression shutters, and he studies her with a carefully blank gaze. “A client,” he repeats, like he’s making sure, surveying her from head to toe. It should make her uncomfortable, shifty on her feet; it just makes her kind of singe and burn with desire, as always. “This ain’t the fuckin’ stationery store.” “I’ve been here before, Fezco,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But this time it’s different. I’m here to get something and leave, like everyone else does.” “Somethin’ like what?” “Adderall.” He mouths the word to himself, his lips moving silently (and Lexi wants to kiss him. Wants to know what his mouth feels like against her skin, what words he would whisper into her neck—). Then, “Fuck.” “I have the money,” says Lexi, even though she knows that’s not the issue at all. It’s more how Fez is looking at her like she’s something he’s already mourning. or, lexi's a private school girl, and everybody knows private school girls are bad (but she's pretty sure none of them fall in love with their drug dealers).

Fics like (desire is) two hands wrapped around a throat

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