[▪︎PHIGHTING X READER▪︎]

Traffic x Reader

The warnings are in comment next to this text as usual, so maybe check in idk.

Dealt a Card, But Its a Heart

Ah, Crossroads. The chaos-center of this land, prone to robot invasions and cowboy heists. If it's illegal then it's here. If it's not, then it's also here. And well, you were thinking about asking the dealer for a cig.

Because regular store bought packs of cigarettes are bad for you, lungs shrivel up and become the walnut doppelganger. No one likes having their organs fail on them by some cheap Marlboro, when there are other cool ways to destroy your organism.

That's why you will be smoking cannabis, obviously. Just this once- you promised yourself. You weren't much for smoking anyways, but there's no harm in granting yourself a wish once. For a special occasion, if you will..

You sigh internally.

Scratch that, you lie to nobody but yourself. Not that much of an occasion, but it was still to be rendered as something special to you- every occasion bears the title of exceptional when Traffic makes his way back to Crossroads.

You longed for him. He was always off somewhere, traveling the land from Temple to the Den. Chasing new discoveries and sights to witness.
if only you weren't that much of a coward to join him in his hitchhiking adventures..

..On second thought, rather not. Waiting on the sidewalk in either harsh winter of Blackrock, scorching sands of Lost Temple or any other fraction doesn't sound like a peciliuary appealing activity.

Maybe instead you could offer him a quick ride to the destination if he was running late. You know he wouldn't take up the offer otherwise.

It would save him quite some time, and you wouldn't worry about yourself- all considering that you constantly seek to rub shoulders with the demon. Maybe then you will get enough courage to... y know..

Anywho, he was always the one up for a good smoke, which often left him looking like a cracker. Many times you had to take care of him when he wasn't in a state to walk a straight line, or when Ghostderri wasn't at hand. And you don't mind taking him in so he can crash at your place, the least what a good ..pal.. can do!

Traffic even offered you a smoke once or twice- an idea where you kindly put your foot down, and he never asked again. Because you aren't a druggie. And because he isn't willing to press on.

But over time, your opinion changed. The more miserable you felt, the appeal was ever hightening, and you found yourself thinking about the idea more often. Some would say it was to de-stress, melt a bit of your worries away, if not just for a moment... you don't know what it was, but well- seeing the substance around you more often did evoke a feeling of deep found curiosity for it all the same.

And well, as the saying goes, curiosity did kill the cat... but satisfaction brought it back! So why not save up a handful to try everything? It cannot be that pricey, can it? Right?

-----

"2000- 3000 bux each, and we have ourselves a deal."

The lanky demon told you, as you recoiled.

"Prayer to Firebrand-" you said under your breath. The demon who wore the title of a drug dealer never let his Cheshire looking grin to falter.

2000? 3000? Hello? Were you on the brink of another war?

You narrowed your eyes at the dealer.

Theoraticaly- theoraticaly, you could overpower someone who doesn't look wider than two McDonalds sauces lined together.
But you shouldn't, it was morally wrong- so instead, you send a harsh glare over to him, which he recorprotated by shrugging while avoiding eye contact.