AN: i didn't forget about this i promise uvu so this is one i had extra fun doing cuz it's kismesitude and i never rped or wrote or drew or w.e anything with it so some time last week at around 3am i decided to try it was kind of a learning experience! ofc feel free to give critique, especially if it's in regards to how kismesitude works, cuz damn it's been a while. anyway this one isn't exactly nsfw, but it's more...detailed? idk I personally wouldn't call it graphic or anything there's just a bunch of cursing but hey to each their own so here's a little warning uvu oh! and i basically forgot to keep major characteristics out as i was typing it so if i missed something that's why and i'm sorry! also! ( gosh this is getting ridiculously long ) since this one is kind if awkward im gonna upload another one in a few mins in case you don't like this one nwn" also also they were playing gta iv haha
oh! and one last note! it's all in lowercase because i typed it on my iPod and i have that auto-uppercase thing set off!
Chapter 4: Dirk [spade] Sollux
"hey, what the hell? that dick-lick totally saw me about to steal that car!"
"geez, i didn't think you were that blind. ain't your glasses an inch thick?"
"shut up and let me plow through this lane of pedestrians."
"only if i get to mock your incompetence."
what's game night without a little smack-talk? nothing, especially when you're the one dishing it. you sit back against the couch's worn upholstery - weeks of incessant gaming tend to wear an ass-print or two - and your gaze almost naturally follows the character as he clambers over a dumpster, only to be eliminated by the swarm of cops following close behind. for the sixteenth time.
you've been keeping count.
"died again."
"i know!" sollux drops the controller in frustration, and you give a light laugh, but he turns from his spot on the floor to face you. "actually, hang on, i, uh...gotta tell you something."
your brows furrow and you start to wonder if it's just another one of his weird secrets when he approaches the couch, he's getting a little close, closer, okay, too close, can't a man get some space, apparently not, but you're too frozen to do anything about his lips just ghosting yours as he mutters, "i hate you. okay?"
okay?
you assume it's a weird secret. just a weird secret, right? it's just another one of his dumb cryptic messages, and he's gonna back up and let you breath. but he doesn't, and it's not, at least no weird secret you're used to, because his lips are soon grinding against yours and he's nipping at your lower lip as if inviting you to some party you weren't prepared for, and his nips become bites and you feel the warmth of your blood delicately dripping off your lips. the look he gives you is victorious, almost taunting, the nerve of that fucker, and you want to deck him right in his stupid nerd frames, but something - something nagging you deep i nthe recesses of your mind - keeps you from doing so. maybe it was the kung-pao chicken you had last-
"you know, you're much more submissive than i thought."
hold the phone.
just hold it for a second. yeah, right there, that's perfect.
submissive? dirk motherfucking strider? submissive? the way he hisses the word against your jaw a second time has you torn between actually socking him in the nose or just melting into his arms, and while your dumb - stupid, stupid, stupid! - brain takes a few months vacation to recover from the ocean of lust flooding your chest, your mouth steals the spotlight: "listen here, fucker."
you take his jaw between the fingers of your right hand, and your left hand finds the waist of his pants, fingers looping under the belt as you tug him closer. "i am anythin' but." he's grinning now, grinning a stupid smushy grin between your hand. you glare at him and chew on your bottom lip - a habit momentarily broken by the sharp sting of the fresh wound the fucker implanted in your lip. it actually makes you growl - excuse me, what? - and the cockmunch before you chuckles, he freakin' chuckles, and you obviously have no choice but to kiss him.
obviously.
surprisingly - and to your slight joy - he's caught off guard and you both tumble off the couch, just barely missing your Xbox. he pins you against the carpet, smirking like he owns the place, and after an amateur WWE cage-match, you're pressed against him - against your will because the fucker is stronger than he looks, but at least you're on top this time. apparently, though, he's satisfied with anything that makes you angry, and you seethe at him, "i hate you so much, oh, my God."
he's - fuckin' dammit - even more attractive at such a close proximity, you realize, even with his stupid floppy bangs and dull eyes and sharp, chiseled features, flawless complexion, and gorgeous lips stained red ever-so slightly, but then again, you hate him, you hate his charm and his idiotic lisp and blatant sarcasm even when you trust him to be serious, why does he even pull that shit, why is he so close to you, did you give him permission to be so close, you think not, he has the worst personality ever, it's, like, 90% jackass, his clothes suck, you hate his face, and furthermore those glasses have got to go.
but damn is that ass fine.