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#that mentioned something acidic/rubbing alcohol/saliva
salamispots · 17 days
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making a little comic with the little sea angel/sea butterfly friends 👀
+ some sketches when I went to the aquarium (again hhsh)
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nekrosdolly · 5 months
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healing
leon comforts you after you relapse.
cw; BULIMIA, eating disorder talk and mentions, vomit, afab!reader, unspecified age gap, older!leon, alcoholism mentions and references, recovery, relapsing, binging mentions. please, under any circumstances, do not read if any of this may trigger you.
a/n; this was a request from an anon, and though i told myself i wasn't taking requests, something in me felt compelled to do this one!
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you really did try, but recovery has never been linear. leon has told you that same thing before, too. with his alcoholism, it was the same story. he'd do great for a few days, weeks even, and then it would all crumble at the mere scent of alcohol. all in all, he knows that while recovering, someone is more fragile. sensitive, so to speak. you're no different.
you'd been doing great so far- no binging, no vomiting, and less exercise. you hadn't been so hypervigilant about how you look. your boyfriend, leon, has been a great help. he's always reassured you whenever you had doubts about your appearance, lapses, or whatever comes up, he's there. he knows you've struggled with this for a long time and he doesn't make you feel bad or weird about it, unlike the other people that had come before him.
he's different in the way you need, and you appreciate that.
you knew today would be bad, but you still held out hope. even when you woke up to not one, but a few new zits on your face, and your hair awry and seemingly unmanageable. even when you did your skincare routine and somehow your cleanser got in your eyes, which burned like hell. even when the shower randomly went cold and ruined your morning. everything was out of your control and that had triggered something in you. you'd never been much of a control freak.
except for this. where you are now, retching up your breakfast as quietly as humanly possible so as not to disturb leon. but that's the thing with trained agents. their hearing sharpens, their senses heighten, so it's no surprise that after you're done ridding yourself of your stomach's contents, that he's entering the bathroom. and you're still there, kneeling before the toilet with bile coating the innards of your mouth and esophagus, your face sickly and somewhat grey.
he's concerned, as any good boyfriend would be. he grabs a washcloth without a word and wets it, then kneels down beside you to wipe the bile off your lips. to you, it feels like a waste of effort. to him, he's showing he cares.
"i'm sorry." are the first words to leave your mouth, "i said i was going to get better a-and now i'm not."
"we've had this talk before, baby." he murmurs, setting the washcloth in the sink.
"c'mon, let's get you some water." he pulls you up from the floor with gentle and warm hands, then flushes the toilet's contents.
✧˚ ༘ ⋆。♡˚
in the kitchen, you rinse your mouth out with the cup of water he's provided for you in a desperate attempt to get rid of the bitter yet sour taste lingering on your tongue, and the feeling coating your gums. he rubs your back slowly, his warmth seeping through the thin material of your shirt. you haven't changed out of your pajamas since you woke up, and by the likes of how the day is going, you aren't going to. he presses a kiss to your hair and wraps his arm around your waist, trying to make you feel at least a little better.
he takes the hand you'd been using to force yourself into throwing up and rinses them off, even though there's nothing on them besides dried saliva (and the slightest bit of stomach acid.) you lean against him, a soft sigh leaving you.
"you know, i'm not mad at you." he says, now patting your fingers dry with a kitchen towel.
you look up at him, a little confused.
"you apologized earlier."
"oh."
"yeah. i just want you to know that i'm not mad at you for relapsing. y'know, it happens, and i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about doing it either." his words somehow bring you a small sense of comfort, that familiar warmth in your chest sparking.
"i'm glad you didn't." you mutter, a slight rasp to your voice.
he chuckles dryly, "yeah, so am i. it's hard, i know, but you can do it. someday, you won't even think about it anymore."
you shake your head softly. "it's not the same as drugs, or alcohol. it's rewired my brain."
he nods his understanding.
"well, whatever it is, you're not alone in this. i'll always be here to support you in any way you need me to." he gives your side a small squeeze and you rest your head against his shoulder.
you know, deep down, that he's trying his best to help. at times, namely today, you find that he's succeeded in his mission. he's seen you at your worst as well as your best and he's stayed. the promise ring he gave you a few months prior proves that he's more than likely staying for the rest of your days.
that thought, in and of itself, warms you up a little more.
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bratdesire · 3 years
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Your Dad, My Daddy
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Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ smut, age gap, older man/younger woman, barely legal, squirting, rough sex, daddy kink, alcohol mention, questionable ethics, d/s dynamics, overstimulation, degrading language, touch of subspace, unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight dubcon if you squint but it’s all consensual, Ukai’s dick is pierced, exhibitionism(?)
Genre: Smut, just so much smut
Word count: 9.4k
Author’s note: Here is my contribution to the new HQHQ collab!! You can find the masterlist right here! Big big thank you to @sempiternal-amour and @inaflashimagine​ for beta-ing this monster fic, ilysm <3 This is so incredibly self-indulgent, I even inserted my nickname ~for spice~. Anyways, enjoy my incoherent screaming uwu
Summary: When you go over to your friend’s house for a study session you don’t anticipate meeting her very attractive father, and you surely don’t anticipate the very same man fucking you over their couch.
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“Hey, I apologize in advance for anything weird my dad says or does. You know how dads are,” Hitomi explains as she pulls into the driveway of her house. 
It’s small but nice and well-manicured, situated in the cul de sac of a middle-class suburb.
“Dad, we’re here,” she shouts up the stairs, setting her keys on the small table next to the front door. Hitomi’s gaze drifts to the tall, dark haired man sitting at the kitchen table and your own gaze soon follows. “Oh, there you are.”
She quickly pecks the man on his cheek before walking over to the shiny silver fridge, pulling out a couple bottles of water. “Dad, this is Bunny, Bunny this is Dad,” she gestures between the two of you. 
When her father glances up from his phone to give you a nod of acknowledgement, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is. 
You can tell from the slight wrinkles around his lips and the crinkles by his eyes that he’s definitely a much older man, but other than that he’s flawless. The angle of his jaw is sharp but soft, lower face darkened by his five o’clock shadow. His chocolate brown eyes are complemented by plump, pink lips that would look even better swollen and shiny with saliva. Dark, shiny locks are gathered into a low ponytail and you wonder how they would feel fisted in your fingers. He’s gorgeous in a rugged, mature way that boys your age aren’t and could never hope to be. 
Hitomi never told you her dad was hot but then again, why would she? 
“Mr. Ukai, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet him.
He waves his hand in the air dismissively, “Ah, you can just call me Keishin. No need to be so formal.”
Hitomi mutters a frustrated “shit” under her breath and it takes you a few moments to tear your eyes away from the man in front of you. 
“I left my textbook in the car, I have to go grab it,” she sighs then turns to her dad. “You, don’t scare off my friend, please.” 
Keishin puts a hand on his heart, a falsely serious expression on his face. “I won’t, scout’s honor.”
She just rolls her eyes, exiting the kitchen the same way you entered. The front door slams shut, leaving you alone with your friend’s very hot dad.
Keishin looks up at you then quickly looks away, unsure how to interact with his daughter’s friends. “So is, uh, Bunny your real name?” he asks, nervously rubbing the back of his head.
Leaning against the table he’s seated at, you fold your arms across your chest, fully aware of how low cut your top is. You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly flicker down to your cleavage then back up to your face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.
“I… I’m just trying to make conversation,” he laughs nervously.
“Hm, well, the short answer is no. You’ll have to get to know me a bit better before I give you the long answer.” 
He snorts, pushing his chair back and rising to his full height. “What gave you the confidence to speak like this to your elders?”
Taking a step towards him, you twirl a piece of hair around your finger and shyly peer up at him through your lashes. “I don’t know, but maybe you can teach me how to behave.”
A light blush colors his cheeks and his eyes widen with surprise. “I-I don’t know what you’re implying, but it’s not... appropriate,” he stutters, taking a step backwards to try to put some distance between you.
You sidle up to him, reaching out a hand to caress his well-muscled arm. When he makes no move to stop your petting, you bite your lip and get on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Who said we had to be appropriate?” 
His mouth is slightly agape, lips moving every so often, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t. “I—” he starts.
The sound of the front door slamming open makes you both jump apart, trying to appear as casual as possible. 
“I got it! We can go study now,” Hitomi proclaims, waving the book around in her hands. She glances at you, then at her father and notices the way you’re completely turned away from each other. “Oh my God, Dad, what did you do?” she groans.
He holds up both hands in surrender, shaking his head emphatically. “I didn’t do anything! Why do you always think I did something?”
Your friend strides over to lightly punch his shoulder, a disapproving but loving expression on her face. “Because you’re weird and lame. Besides, between you and Bunny, I’m always going to assume that you’re the guilty party.”
You find yourself chuckling at their banter, touched by how close they are. It’s evident that Hitomi and Keishin care a lot about each other, regardless of how much they tease each other and guilt twists in your gut when you remind yourself that you were flirting with him. She likely wouldn’t forgive you for trying to sleep with her dad and it would cause a great deal of damage to their relationship, possibly beyond repair if she knew he was into girls her age. To make matters worse, you’re two years her junior. What man would sleep with a girl younger than his daughter?
But your morals are tossed right out the window when you take in the sight of Keishin’s radiant smile—all straight, white teeth and eyes that shine like pools of dark honey. It’s in that moment that you decide you’re going to seduce that man if it’s the last thing you do.
Sorry, Hitomi. Kind of.
---
“Okay, so L-Tyrosine is one of the twenty amino acids used by the body to synthesize proteins. It is also an aromatic amino acid derived from phenylalanine by hydroxylation in the para position—oof!” Hitomi’s droning is cut off by the pillow you send hurtling towards her head.
You sit up on her bed, squealing obnoxiously as you stretch. “Hitomi, I love you, but please shut up. My brain is melting. We’ve been at this for three hours now, can we take a break?”
She closes the textbook in her lap and pushes it to the edge of her desk. “Fine, fine. We can take a twenty minute break, but we have to go right back to studying because finals are this week and I cannot afford to fail,” your friend warns, despite how she whips out her phone at lightning speed.
Picking at a stray thread on the comforter, you gently try to get her attention, “Hey, Tomi?”
“Hm?” she responds, barely glancing up from the video she’s watching.
You’re not sure how to broach the subject, but you’ve never been one to beat around the bush so you just come right out and say it. “Has anyone told you your dad’s kinda hot?”
That makes her stop, her head jerking up from her phone at lightning speed. “What!? That old geezer?” She sounds dumbfounded, incredulous at the prospect that someone would be interested in her father.
“Yeah girl, he’s a total DILF,” you confess, making a little fanning motion with your hand like you’re burning up inside just thinking about him, and it’s not that far from the truth.
Hitomi makes no effort to hide her feelings, disgust clearly evident in her delicate features. “Ew! You have to be joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not joking! He’s really sexy,” you muse dreamily.
She claps both hands over her ears, yelling at the top of her lungs to drown you out. “I never want to hear you say that my old man is ‘sexy’ ever again!”
You childishly stick your tongue out at her. “Hey! I’m just speaking the truth. You have to have had friends say the same thing.”
Removing her hands from her ears, she brings one up to stroke her chin, seemingly deep in thought. “Now that I think about it, back in high school my friends were a lot more enthusiastic about coming over once they met my father.”
You feel vindicated by her personal testimony, even if she thinks you’re gross. “See? I’m not the only one who finds your dad ridiculously attractive.”
Hitomi gags dramatically as if she’s going to puke and judging by the look on her face, she just might. “Please, no more, I’m begging you.” 
“Fine, fine I’ll stop, but don’t act surprised when I become your new stepmom,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at her.
“You’re younger than me, don’t even joke about that,” she shudders in horror. “Okay, with that we need to get back to studying amino acids and proteins.”
“Whatever you say, future stepdaughter.” You muster your best motherly voice, sickeningly sweet and a touch passive aggressive.
This time, it’s Hitomi’s turn to throw a pillow at you.
---
Since the day you met Keishin, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. Even when you’re in class trying to learn about the sodium-potassium pump, you find your thoughts drifting to his hands, his lips, him. He’s simply become too distracting to ignore.
More times than you care to admit, you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers to thoughts of how his fingers would feel pumping inside you. You fantasize about how his hand would feel around your neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to make your vision hazy. His name is always on the tip of your tongue when you orgasm and when you finally let yourself moan out ‘Keishin,’ you know enough is enough. A man his age has to know exactly how to make a woman scream and writhe in pleasure, but you need to experience it for yourself or you’ll die trying.
You’re not oblivious to the way he looks at you with hunger and longing in his eyes, you know he wants you too and you’re not above using dirty tricks to show him just how much you want him. 
If he’s too proud, too noble to give in to his urges, you’ll just have to break him. His resolve may be strong, but yours is stronger.
Your efforts begin innocently enough, gently probing him for more information about himself so you can get to know him better.
“I’ve noticed you don’t wear a ring. Is there a Mrs. Ukai in the picture?” you ask innocently.
Keishin clears his throat a bit too loudly, refusing to meet your questioning gaze. “Nah. It’s just me and Tomi, always has been.”
“Any… future Mrs. Ukai in the picture?”
The corners of his lips twitch slightly, the barest of smiles tugging at his handsome features. “Can’t say there is. Between the store and coaching volleyball, I don’t really have the time to date.”
You nod and make a noise of acknowledgement, relieved by the confirmation that he is in fact very, very single. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a homewrecker.
On another occasion, you’re seated on their plush leather couch and Keishin’s in the well-worn La-Z-Boy recliner to your left. You’re watching some Adam Sandler movie on Netflix, but it’s paused while Hitomi is in the bathroom.
You take your alone time together as an opportunity to question him more, toeing the line of what would be considered proper. “So, Keishin, how old are you? I know Tomi’s twenty-one so you must be…” you trail off, hoping he’ll humor you.
He takes a swig of the beer in his hand and your eyes instinctively flicker down to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Old.”
You roll your eyes and prop your chin up on your hand, readjusting your position on the couch so you’re leaning closer to him. “Obviously, but just how old?”
“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asks, head tilted and a well-groomed eyebrow lifted questioningly.
“I was just wondering if you’re older than my dad,” you tease. 
His shoulders shake slightly as he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m forty-four. Do I have him beat?”
“He’s forty-two, so just barely.” Your steady, unwavering eyes lock onto his own, which are glassy and unfocused from the alcohol. When he brings the bottle to his lips once more, you nonchalantly add, “Maybe I should call you Daddy instead.”
Keishin coughs and sputters in surprise, causing him to choke on his beverage and a spray of sticky beer splatters across your face. 
Apologies tumble out of his mouth as soon as he realizes that your cheeks and hair are dripping with the craft IPA he was drinking. “I-I’m so sorry! I’ll get you a towel,” he blurts, shooting up from his chair. 
In his panic and embarrassment, he rushes toward the linen closet and you can’t help the giggles that escape your mouth at how uncoordinated he is, now several drinks in. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,” you reassure him, wiping your face with the back of your hand for emphasis.
He returns from the rummaging around the hall closet, a dark blue towel in his hand, which he offers to you with a nod of his head.
No matter your protests and assurances that you’re fine, Keishin is even more insistent in offering you the towel to clean yourself up. When you refuse to take the towel from him, he kneels down next to you and leans in to dab at the foamy liquid that has soaked into your hair. 
Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his fingers on your jaw and you almost squeak at his close proximity. He hasn’t let you near him since your first encounter and now he’s right in front of you, so close that his breath curls around your cheeks, smelling of malted hops and the slightest hint of peppermint. You can map out the slight freckles on the bridge of his nose and each long, curled eyelash that brushes his cheeks each time he blinks.
He’s truly a beautiful man, all sharp angles and rough stubble and you can feel your cheeks warm when you realize that he’s right there. If you leaned forward just a little bit more, your noses would brush against each other. 
A deep, rumbling voice interrupts your daydreaming. “Kid, are you even listening to me?”
You blink a couple times, coming to the realization that he’s been trying to talk to you for the last few minutes, but you were too busy admiring his beauty.
Keishin shakes his head as he leans back on his heels, using one hand to rub his face wearily. “As I was saying, you can’t just… say things like that. I know young girls sometimes have fantasies about older men like me, but I’m telling you now that it’ll only end badly,” he sighs. “I’m not a righteous man, I have my vices. God, do I have lots of them, and I don’t need another one.”
He mumbles the last sentence, barely loud enough for you to hear, despite how close you are.
Another one? Is he admitting that the attraction is mutual? You have to know, you just have to. Your body practically aches from how badly you want him.
“Keishin, I—” you start, reaching out to touch his arm, but he stands abruptly and quickly turns to shuffle away from the couch.
“This just isn’t a good idea, kid. Just forget about me, alright?” he says, his back to you. A tinge of regret and hesitation seeps into his words, as if he wants to take back everything he’s said.
After the beer incident, the man is even less receptive than he was before, making every effort to avoid being alone with you.
Even still, you’re not discouraged because he never outright rejected you. If he had, you would’ve stopped your pursuit weeks ago, but he only seems to be trying to maintain his composure as a righteous man.
Righteous men are wolves in sheep’s clothing, always putting on a facade so they can claim plausible deniability when they’re caught with their pants around their ankles. But no matter how honorable or virtuous a man tries to be, none of them can resist a wet, willing pussy laid out in front of them and Keishin is no exception.
That’s why you’ve shown up to their house the last few weeks in skirts far too short to be considered decent, flashing little peeks of your underwear each time you move too much or bend over too far. Each time you bend over to grab a pencil or a piece of paper off the floor, Keishin is always conveniently positioned behind you so he gets an eyeful of your pretty lace panties and the little dark spot where your wetness has soaked through the fabric. 
After you retrieve your item from the ground, you look over your shoulder to make direct eye contact with him and say ‘oops,’ without a hint of regret in your voice. You revel in the clenching of his jaw and the way he exhales loud and heavy through his nose, frustration mounting each time you try to provoke him.
When your ass and clothed pussy are on display for him, you make sure to wiggle your hips a bit, an open invitation to fuck you the way you both want to. It never fails to elicit some sort of reaction from the older man, ranging from a few groans and a choked cough, to making a very hasty exit, a book or some other object held over the front of his jeans. 
Without fail, Hitomi expresses her concern each time her father storms out of the room, red-faced and breathing heavily. He just waves her off, telling her he’s not feeling well, but you know the truth. He’s painfully hard, painfully hard from you, even if he doesn’t admit it.
Truthfully, if you weren’t trying to get him to fuck you so hard you can’t walk you would applaud his self-control and restraint. Even after weeks of teasing and provocation, the man refuses to give in to his desires.
That’s okay. If he’s not going to come to you, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands.
----
It all reaches a tipping point when you’re unable to go home for winter break and Hitomi offers you their guest room to stay in for a few weeks. 
Apparently she never asked her father for permission, if Keishin’s shocked, slightly panicked face when you walked through the door with your suitcase was any indication. When he tried to question Hitomi about whether or not it’s such a good idea for you to stay, she wasn’t having any of it and told him that you’re a friend in need. 
Hitomi’s so sweet and caring that you feel a twinge of guilt for plotting to seduce her father in her house when she’s none the wiser. She just wanted to lend a helping hand by letting you stay with them, oblivious to your true plans, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.
Now that you’re under the same roof, all you really want to do is ambush Keishin as soon as possible, but you have to plan around Hitomi’s schedule so you have bide your time. What’s the saying? Good things come to those who wait?
And wait you do. You wait for two whole weeks, in fact. But then the stars align so perfectly that some otherworldly force must be looking out for you.
Hitomi is gone to work and won’t be back until the middle of the night when her shift is over, while Keishin is home reviewing footage from his team’s latest game. 
He told you he does this right before a big game so he can tell his players what they need to improve on and get in that last bit of refinement before the day of. When he clued you in on his strategy you just nodded and hummed, not really listening, mostly focused on ogling his muscles through his thin t-shirt.
Your nerves have been buzzing since you woke up this morning, sensing the heaviness in the air. You’re wearing your prettiest lace panties and its matching bra and frankly, you’re feeling pretty damn confident. You look good and you know you look good. If you were trying to seduce any guy your age, they’d drop their pants as soon as they got a little glimpse of your underwear, but Keishin’s not any guy your age. He needs a little convincing, a little push in the right direction, and you’ll be the one to help him.
You’ve flitted around the house all day, just trying to find the right moment to pounce. 
Currently, Keishin is sitting in the living room watching the recording on the big flat screen in the living room. He looks preoccupied with taking notes on the notepad in his lap, but it’s now or never, you suppose.
Before you try to talk yourself out of it, you stride over to where he’s sitting and put your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.
“Hey. Did you need something? I’m kind of busy analyzing my team’s last game.”
Not wanting to lose your nerve, you wordlessly swing one leg over his, then the other, planting yourself firmly in his lap. His entire body goes ramrod stiff, hands jerking away from your body as if you’ve burned him.
“W-what do you think you’re doing?” he stutters, alarm evident in his voice.
When he makes no move to throw you off his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, pressing your chest to his. 
“What we both have been wanting to do since the day I met you,” you purr, lips barely brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers when you gently nibble on his earlobe and your confidence only grows as you discover that he wants this just as much as you do.
“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn't right. I’m your friend’s father and I’m... old enough to be y-yours,” he mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair, conflicted with how to proceed.
You can’t tell whether he’s trying to convince you or himself, so you decide to give him a little encouragement.
Leaning back slightly, you run your hands down his chest and bite your lip. “Are we going to keep playing games or are you gonna fuck me? Because if not, I’ve got several guys back at college who—”
You’re cut off when Keishin’s hand wraps around your throat, the other braced against your back to pull you flush against him. 
“You think your little stunts are cute, don’t you?” he growls, his minty breath washing over your face.
“What, you don’t think so, Daddy?” you pout, batting your eyelashes at him innocently.
His eyes flash with something hot and primal and you can feel the gush of wetness between your thighs. “I’m getting a little tired of them,” he growls.
“This,” you palm at the bulge straining against his pants, “Tells me otherwise, you know.”
The hand around your throat tightens, cutting off whatever bratty remark you were about to make. “I’ve had enough of you prancing around my home in tiny skirts and flashing me your panties when my daughter is around. It’s unbecoming.”
“Then t-teach me a lesson,” you gasp, struggling to speak with Keishin’s fingers so firmly wrapped around your throat.
The way he grins is downright sinful and it stokes the fire already raging inside you. “Careful what you wish for, little girl.”
With some manhandling on Keishin’s part, you’re shoved toward the couch then pulled back onto his lap, but this time you’re on your stomach and both your wrists are pinned behind your back.
“Before we go any further,” he starts, trailing his fingers down your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I have to ask… How old are you?”
You twist around to look him in the eyes, a defiant smirk on your face. “Old enough.” Your mischievous giggle is cut off by a swift, firm slap to your ass.
“Watch the lip, brat. I need a little more reassurance than that.”
“Since you’re just so concerned, I’m nineteen. Perfectly legal and more importantly, legally fuckable,” you say, punctuated by an enticing wiggle of your hips.
“Jesus, you’re two years younger than Tomi. What am I doing?” He seems lost in thought as the honorable side of him fights a losing battle against his baser, carnal instincts. Whatever reservations he has are thrown aside when you start to wiggle in his grasp, maneuvering yourself over his crotch to grind yourself against his hardness.
Keishin gathers your hair around his fist, harshly jerking your head so far backwards that your spine aches from the unnatural angle.
“Stop fucking squirming. You just don’t know how to behave, do you?” It’s phrased like a question, but he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth so you can’t respond. 
You knew Keishin would be the perfect dom, but the ease with which he settles into the role makes your head spin and your insides throb. Latching onto his digits, you lick and suck like the good girl you are, coating them in saliva as he hums in appreciation.
“Foo wans tuh behav wen thith is wutt I ge fo bein ba?” you ask, garbled and muffled by the fingers massaging the back of your tongue. 
A series of harder, heavier spanks make you squeal and squirm even more in his lap. He gently rubs his hand over your warm, stinging flesh as he speaks. “Such a troublemaker. Just what am I going to do with you, hm?” He tries to sound admonishing, but you can tell he’s smiling behind his words.
His hand leaves your ass, no doubt raised to spank you again, but before he can, you bite down on his fingers. Not too hard, just enough for him to jerk them out of your mouth. “You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy.” 
You jolt when his thumb rubs against your pussy through your panties. They’re soaked with your slick, the material clinging to your skin uncomfortably. The barest touch has you gasping and pushing your hips back for more. You’re so sensitive from the teasing and you’re so turned on you just might pass out if you’re not filled up soon.
Keishin just laughs darkly at the pathetic humping of your hips and you can feel the rumbling in his chest. “This is what I love about girls your age. So sensitive…” He pulls your panties aside and gently eases a finger inside you, then another as you moan and shake in his lap. “And so reactive. I bet you’d cum just from me putting my cock inside this tight, wet cunt, wouldn’t you?”
He speaks with a hint of condescension that has you clenching around his digits, coating them in sticky, syrupy strands of your arousal as they pump in and out of you. You’d almost be embarrassed at how worked up you are if you had more self respect, but you don’t. All you can focus on is the way his fingertips curl into the little spongy spot inside you that makes you whine.
“Why don’t you try it and find out?” The challenge in your voice is severely dampened by how breathless and wrecked you are even though you haven’t really even done anything.
His fingers pull out of you with a lewd squelching sound and you can hear him suck them into his mouth. “You taste even better than I imagined, but I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours. Up, little girl.” He coaxes you from his lap and onto the couch so your back is nestled into the cushions.
Sweat is making hair stick to your forehead and you’re breathing so heavily you’d think you just ran a marathon, but Keishin is looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world and it nearly steals what little breath you have left in your lungs.
Oxygen is the last thing on your mind when his lips slot themselves between yours, soft yet demanding as they suck and lick. The movement of his lips doesn’t falter when he pulls your shirt over your head to reveal your light pink bra. Keishin pulls back to kiss along your collarbones, neck, and chest, his teeth occasionally nipping your sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He expertly removes your panties with one hand so you’re left in just your plaid skirt, exposing your heated flesh to the coolness of the living room. 
You’re nearly naked but he’s wearing far too many clothes for your liking, so you blindly grab at his shirt, but your fingers are shaking too much for you to get a good grip. Once he realizes what you’re trying to do, he puts his hands over yours and helps you take off his shirt. You nearly start drooling when all of his hard, rippling muscles and smooth, tan skin are finally revealed to your greedy eyes that can’t seem to settle one thing. You don’t know if you’ll get this opportunity again and you want to remember everything in painstaking detail, especially Keishin’s gorgeous body.
He momentarily disentangles himself from you to remove his jeans, leaving him in just his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. The outline of his cock is evident as it strains against the blue material and you reach out to stroke it, but he just takes your hand in his.
He brings it to his lips, then kisses up your arm until he reaches your lips. “All in due time, sweet girl. I want to taste you first.” Your mouth is claimed in another hungry, bruising kiss and you squeal when Keishin takes your lip between his teeth and bites, blood rushing to the surface of your skin. 
His head dips down to leave featherlight kisses and teasing licks down your chest and stomach before he’s resting between your thighs. You whimper pitifully as he spreads your legs, awaiting the feeling of a wet tongue or his fingers against your folds. When he doesn’t move for several beats, you come to the realization that he’s just watching the way your cunt twitches and clenches around nothing and the wetness that drips onto the couch each time your muscles contract. You quickly bring your legs together to hide yourself from his scrutinizing gaze, but he simply pries them open with little effort.
Keishin grabs your chin so you’ll look right at him, squirming from the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t you dare hide this pretty pussy from me, do you understand? I am going to devour you until I’ve had my fill and you’re going to just lie back and take it.”
You nod obediently, your impudence quickly dying, giving way to the burning ache between your legs that can only be sated by a long, hard fuck.
With a satisfied hum, he settles at the apex of your thighs and licks a long stripe from your quivering pussy to your swollen clit and your hips jerk from the contact. Strong hands pin your hips to the couch as you writhe in his firm grip. He gives your clit a soft, quick kiss before he takes it into his mouth and sucks. You grab fitfully at his hair, back arching and hips pressing into his mouth as you gasp and groan from the incredible feeling of his tongue on your sensitive flesh.
His tongue teases your entrance and your cunt twitches, anticipating the first thrust of his warm, wet muscle inside you. He occasionally dips into your hole, but never breaches your entrance and you think you might go mad if he doesn’t give you more.
“I-I need more, give me more,” you manage to gasp, grabbing a fistful of the pillow underneath you as the tightening in your belly gets stronger.
Keishin removes his mouth from your cunt just long enough to admonish you for your lack of respect. “You need to have more manners if you’re going to demand things of me,” he says, before latching back onto your swollen, twitching clit.
“Daddy, pleeease I need more. Ah! I want to cum!” Your voice is so high-pitched and whiny you almost don’t recognize yourself, but you’re nearly delirious from pleasure and your impending climax that’s been dangled over your head for what feels like hours.
“Now who am I to deny you when you ask so sweetly?”
He thrusts two of his digits inside you, reaching deep inside you and rubbing against your g-spot as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. You’re almost screaming at this point, clawing at his hair and humping your cunt against his face. The familiar tightening in your belly signals that you’re about to cum and your moans and cries get faster, louder as the promise of white hot pleasure is just within reach—
It’s almost embarrassing how fast you’re teetering on the edge of climax, as if you’re a virgin school girl that’s never touched herself before. But maybe that’s the difference that years of experience can make. 
Not that you care. You just want to cum.
“Fuck, Daddy, I—I’m close!”
Sensing your impending orgasm, the man uses his free hand to slap your cheek then grabs your throat. “Uh-uh-uh,” he tuts, “Ask Daddy for permission to cum.” You’re clamping down on his fingers impossibly tighter as he fingers you even deeper, and the way he sucks on your clit renders you incapable of speech. Each time you open your mouth to try to speak, more desperate, wanton noises escape your lips.
You’re about to fucking burst at the seams and you feel like you’re on fire, but you want to be a good girl for your daddy, so you use the last bit of brain power you have left to ask for permission.
“P-pleaaase Daddy may I ahhh! May I cum!” you ask, but you can’t even hear Keishin give his approval from how loud the blood rushing in your ears is as you finally cum.
You try to muffle your cries with the back of your hand, but he grabs your wrist and wrenches it away from your mouth.
“Don’t do that. I want to hear you scream.” His tone is clipped and short, not caring how rough he is with your delicate flesh.
If you weren’t already cumming, you would have from the pleasure that’s so intense, it’s almost painful as your body is wracked with tremors. Your legs snap around Keishin’s head and you grip his hair even tighter as wave upon wave of your orgasm washes over you. You hear someone screaming and wonder what’s happening, when you realize it’s you, you’re the one screaming as you ride out your climax.
He greedily slurps and sucks up every single drop of your release that you can give him, as if he was stranded in the desert for a thousand years and your juices are the first sip of water to hit his dry, parched tongue. Your cunt is already so sensitive, painfully clenching around his fingers, but he just. Doesn’t. Stop.
“Fuck, K-Kei, wait ‘s too much,” you weakly protest, but your body is too spent to resist so you just lie there, twitching and gasping as he keeps sucking on your overstimulated clit.
His lips detach from your poor, abused bud and you almost sigh in relief before the fingers inside your cunt pump faster, stimulating every inch of your gummy walls.
Keishin leans over your sweaty, exhausted form, one hand braced on the couch, the other buried inside you. His fingers are hitting a spot inside you that makes you feel the urge to pee, so you try to push his hand away but it’s futile with how much stronger he is than you. 
“Hold onnn, I’m g-gonna—” you slur, panicked, but it’s as if he didn’t hear you.
His digits are relentless, rubbing and stroking and you’re a fucked out mess. You don’t know what he wants until an uncomfortable tightness shoots through your cunt. You cry out as clear liquid gushes out of you, splashing all over you, the couch, and Keishin. If you were more coherent, you might be mortified because you just… pissed on him—
To your surprise, he’s laughing as he removes his hand from inside you, ignoring your halfhearted groans. “I was hoping you’d do that,” he says, holding up his hand, shiny and dripping with your juices. 
“D-Do what?” you pant, unsure of what just happened and why Keishin seems so smug.
He uses his discarded t-shirt to wipe his hand off, then dabs at your stomach where a sizable puddle accumulated. “Squirt,” he responds. When he sees your confused expression, he follows up with, “It’s not piss, if you’re worried about that.”
“Ooookay.” You’re too dazed and exhausted to argue with him or question him further, so you just flop into the sofa and close your eyes.
“C’mon, little girl, don't tell me that’s all you’ve got. You were talking so much shit earlier and I have so much more to give you.” Despite how tired you are, his words spark new arousal in your belly and defiance revitalizes you, movement returning to your limbs.
You slide a hand down your stomach and spread the puffy lips of your cunt, sliding a finger through your wetness. “Of course it’s not. I’m ready to take that hard cock of yours, Daddy.”
“Attagirl, that’s what I like to see,” he praises, dropping his underwear and sliding them somewhere you can’t see. 
His cock is gorgeous, but that doesn’t come as a surprise, considering the man it belongs to. It’s thick and curved in a way that you know will reach the deepest parts of you.
What you weren’t expecting is the many piercings adorning the shaft and the one that goes through the head. A long curved barbell enters through the tip and exits through the underside of his glans. Three evenly spaced rings are embedded in the skin where his shaft meets his balls. You’ve never seen so many piercings on one man, let alone in such a sensitive place, so you gawk at the smooth metal rings that shine in the overhead lights.
“You’re… You have…”
He grins widely and it’s so devilish you think he might swallow you whole and honestly? You’d let him. You’d let him do whatever he wants to you. “Haha, yeah I get that reaction a lot. Never seen a pierced cock before, huh?”
“No, but there’s a first time for everything. I’m dying to see how those,” you point to his piercings, “Feel inside me.”
Keishin wordlessly climbs on top of you and rubs the head against your wetness, spreading it along his shaft to ease his entry. “They’ll feel fucking incredible, but you’ll have to beg for it.”
You scoff, reaching to grab his hips so he’ll fuck you already, but he scoots backwards so you can’t touch him.
“Naughty girls that misbehave don’t get fucked, so you’d better smarten up quickly,” he warns, making you gasp as he thrusts his cock against your clit.
He lazily nudges the head over your flesh, occasionally letting it catch on the tight ring of muscle around your hole. When he slots between your pussy lips, you try to wiggle and hump your hips in his direction, in hopes that he’ll slide right in.
But he doesn’t, and you’re about to go mad with his cock so close, but so far away.
“Please fuck me Daddy. I need your cock so bad!” You’re on the verge of tears, the buildup of the last few weeks overwhelming your senses.
Making a noise of sympathy, Keishin pets your hair affectionately and kisses your cheek. “All you had to do was ask.”
His hips pull back, then he’s thrusting inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in your tight heat. You whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, but any pain you feel is overshadowed by the way that his cock is filling you so full. The burn and stretch hurts so fucking good that your orgasm hits you like a freight train, fast and hard and blinding. Keishin fucks you through it, his cock touching all of the sensitive spots inside you and the pleasure is so strong you have to screw your eyes shut as you cry out and fall apart around him.
When you open them again, the man is staring down at you with the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. “See? I said you’d cum as soon as I put my cock inside you.”
Using all the strength you can muster, you slap his arm. “Shut up and just fuck me.”
“You still haven’t learned your manners, but I just can’t wait to shoot my cum deep inside this cute cunt of yours,” Keishin groans, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back inside the hot, welcoming clutch of your pussy. 
You can feel each of the metal rings on his cock, foreign and strange, but the odd feeling soon fades to little shocks of ecstasy each time they brush against your insides.
The lewd slapping sounds of skin on skin are all you can hear besides the occasional moan or hiss from the man fucking you within an inch of your life, not that you can focus on anything else right now.
You nudge at Keishin’s shoulder and he stops the rapid pistoning of his hips, an almost annoyed look on his face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, but you just smile and push him backwards onto the couch, just like you were. He grunts in surprise as he falls backward, but he quickly quiets down when you climb on top of him and sink yourself back down on his length.
You both moan in unison as he fills you once more, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix each time you force your cunt back down on him. His hands wander to your tits, grabbing, squeezing, and pinching the sensitive buds of your nipples. 
Ever the troublemaker, you can’t resist making a jab at him now that you’re on top. “I wonder what she’d do if she knew you were with me right now. What would your daughter say about you taking advantage of a young, helpless girl?”
Keishin takes that moment to pull you against him, thrusting hard and rough into your gummy walls that never stop pulsing around him. You’re shaking and gasping, your tongue lolling out of your mouth in your pleasured delirium. “With the way your greedy, sloppy cunt is clenching around me, I wouldn’t say I’m taking advantage of you,” he points out, only slightly out of breath. “But you get off on this, don’t you? Letting an old man like me fuck you. I’m old enough to be your father.”
“Like you’re any b-better,” you bite back.
You cry out when Keishin starts rubbing your swollen clit in tight little circles, your third orgasm fast approaching. 
“Fuck! I can—urgh, I can feel your pussy pulsing around me. I’m g-gonna cum,” he grits out, thrusting impossibly deeper inside you. He's pressed so far into you, he’s just thumping the head of his cock against your cervix. You scream and write in his arms, seeking to relieve the sharp burning in your womb just a little bit, but he has you firmly locked in his clutches. “Be a good little girl and cum for Daddy.”
Almost on command, you shake and moan, loud and long, as you cream all over his cock and coat the base in milky white. “Oh fuck, oh god! D-Daddy I’m cu-mming!” you wail with the last of your energy.
You’re so exhausted you go limp against him and let him use your body as a fuck toy until he reaches his climax. Keishin follows soon behind you, his thrusts growing sloppier and less coordinated as he mumbles obscenities under his breath. “Shit shit shit, fuck I’m cumming! I’m gonna—fuck!”
With one last thrust into your fluttering, over stimulated cunt he orgasms, his legs shaking as he shoots rope after rope of cum into your quivering womb.
You both lay there for several minutes to catch your breaths. You’re so sore and boneless you can barely move, but you manage to extricate yourself from Keishin’s long limbs. Leaning into the arm of the couch, you let your eyes flutter closed and allow sleep to take you.
You’re awoken by a warm, wet washcloth rubbing against your sensitive folds and you whine, sleepily wiggling your hips to get away from the discomfort. “Kid, I know it doesn’t feel good but, uh, it’s kind of a mess down there. You can go back to sleep, just let me clean you up.” Keishin’s familiar timbre comforts you so you settle back down, still half asleep.
“Mmm, Keishin?” you mumble, making grabby hands at the man.
He takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” he responds as he wipes the washcloth between your legs with his other hand.
You rub your face against his hand before placing a sloppy kiss on top of it. “Thank youuuu,” you slur.
Keishin just chuckles and rubs his fingers over your knuckles. “Yeah kid, you’re welcome. Just get some rest, alright?”
You’re asleep before he even finishes the sentence.
----
When you awaken it’s dark, most likely the middle of the night. There’s a blanket thrown over your unexpectedly clothed body, which is now covered in a worn, oversized shirt. It smells like fabric softener and musk, so you figure it must be Keishin’s.
Looking around, you bolt upright when you realize you’re not on the living room couch anymore, you’re now in a large, comfortable bed.
The sound of a deep, rumbling voice draws your attention to the bathroom connected to the room you’re currently in. “Oh, you’re finally awake,” Keishin says sheepishly as he emerges from the bathroom, then points to the nightstand next to you. “There’s some water and ibuprofen, you should take it. Even if you’re not sore now, you will be later.”
You chuckle tiredly as you stretch your overworked muscles. “I’m already sore, so I’ll definitely be taking these.”
He sits awkwardly on the side of the bed, unsure how to treat you after your little encounter. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on he’s seemingly deep in thought.
“Whatever you’re thinking, just spit it out.” His head immediately snaps to you, eyes guarded and unreadable.
“What we did downstairs, it’s… not right. I’m supposed to protect young, impressionable girls like you. I’m a father—I would die if Tomi was after a man more than twice her age.”
You pull the blanket off of you and climb over to where the older man is seated on the mattress. “Keishin, let me ask you something.” He lifts his head, expectant. “Did you enjoy what we did? Because I did.” He nods slowly, still unsure what you’re getting at.
Taking his face in your hands, you tell him what you’ve been thinking for weeks. “At the end of the day, we’re two consenting adults who partook in consensual activities. Even if someone wants to clutch their pearls because you’re older than me, who cares?”
“Yeah, I get that, but… It has to be some sort of ethics violation on my part. You’re younger than my daughter, Bunny.”
“Even if it is, you have to allow yourself to live a little. Life is too short to deny yourself pleasures the world has to offer, and I don’t know about you, but I was very pleased by our… tryst.”
A cute blush spreads across Keishin’s cheeks as he remembers everything he said and did to you. “Aha, I was too. So, um… Would you want to do that again, sometime?” he asks, running a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s nervous.
You giggle and tackle him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Of course I do. We can even do it now, if you’d like…”
A couple hours later, just before Hitomi comes back, you limp across the hallway to your room and pass out, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
And that is how your little arrangement begins.
Most of your time is spent with Hitomi, mostly shopping and going out to eat when she has the day off, or just watching Netflix in her room when you’re both too tired to go anywhere.
However, in the wee hours of the morning when you’re sure that she’s asleep, you sneak up to her father’s bedroom and get fucked so hard and so good you can barely make it back to your bedroom before the sun rises.
It’s a good arrangement, you think, you both get what you want and your friend is none the wiser. You figure no harm, no foul. At the end of the winter break, Keishin will likely want to cut things off with you and you’ll go back to your college dorm as if nothing happened.
But the winter break isn’t over yet, and you plan on making the most of it.
Keishin has been fucking you into the mattress for so long, time no longer even makes sense anymore. 
You’re sweaty and exhausted, muscles so sore and shaky, but the thrusting between your legs shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. The harsh grip on your hips will likely bruise, but luckily you can hide them, unlike the few close calls you’ve had with poorly-placed marks on your neck.
Despite your exhaustion, you continue to meet Keishin’s thrusts by humping your hips back at him.
He gives your ass a harsh spank and fucks into you harder, making you whine and clench around him. “You’re an insatiable little thing, aren’t you? So fucked out and dripping with my cum, yet you still want more,” he says, but all you can do is gasp in response. You’re too far gone to produce any meaningful response. “What am I going to do with you?” If you had the energy, you’d tell him whatever he wants, but you don’t and the familiar tug of an orgasm is too hard to ignore.
“Fuck Daddy, I-I’m—”  
Suddenly, his phone comes to life, Hitomi’s face lighting up the screen as it vibrates. The pistoning of his hips slows, then stops completely as he reaches over and grabs it off the nightstand.
He suddenly pulls out of your sore, abused cunt and you almost whine at the loss before he buries himself back inside you. The way your face is pressed into the mattress makes it difficult, but you manage to turn your head to see what Keishin is doing behind you.
Your eyes widen and you try to wriggle out of his grip when you figure out that he’s going to answer his phone as he keeps fucking you.
A hand wraps around your neck, lifting you up from your position on the bed and you have to follow its movement to prevent your windpipe from getting crushed. You’re pressed against Keishin’s hard chest, and his cock is nestled right against your cervix. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just stay still and take it like a good little girl.”
The harsh grip on your neck releases and you’re shoved back into the bed, falling onto the comforter.
Keishin sounds completely normal when he answers his phone and it almost pisses you off—how can he be so unaffected when you’re at your wit’s end? 
He chirps into the phone, “Hey sweetheart, what’s up?” The only indication that anything is amiss is the slight breathlessness in his voice and the occasional curse under his breath.
He forces himself even deeper inside you so forcefully that you’re afraid he’ll punch straight through to your womb. You know it’s not possible, but with Keishin, it just might be. He’s always full of surprises, especially when it comes to your body.
“Oh yeah, sure I can drop it off to you later. I’m just a little… preoccupied at the moment,” he says with a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. Keishin stiffens above you, waiting to see if Hitomi heard you through the phone.
“No, Hitomi, I’m not watching porn! But hold on a second, I think someone is at the door.” He sets the phone on the bed, muting the call as his cock hits your g-spot and you’re shaking, practically shivering in his arms. A couple of hard, coordinated rubs of your engorged clit and you’re cumming, gushing around him and keening as your muscles clench uncomfortably. You scream silently and fall limp onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer. 
You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, but it’s to the point that each successive orgasm borders on the edge of pleasure and pain.
“Better keep quiet, wouldn’t want my daughter to hear you getting your pretty little cunt stuffed full of my cock,” Keishin snarls into your ear and you feel yourself clench painfully around him. Your body is just so worn out, but you know he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. “Or do you want her to know what a slut you are for her father?”
You shake your head vehemently, but the man inside you just chuckles as he keeps fucking you.
“Oh my god, oh fuck I-I…” You’re babbling nonsense to no one in particular.
“Ahh it was just-fuck, it was just some dude trying to sell me security cameras. Anyways, I’ll see you later honey, I love you.” His last few sentences sound rushed, urgent and you can tell from the twitching of his length that he’s close. The moment the phone is hung up, Keishin cages you between his body and the mattress. “Your cunt feels so fucking good, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. Would you like that?”
You try to nod and make a noise akin to ‘mhm,’ but you’re not sure what it sounds like. You’re not really sure of anything right now, but what you are sure of is you want him to cum inside you.
“I could never deny you anything, sweet girl,” he groans.
Keishin fucks into you harder, faster, and it feels as if he’s quite literally rearranging your guts, he’s so deep inside you. He reaches down between your legs and pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers. “Think you have one more in you, hm?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer. Of course you do.” He rubs your sore clit the way he knows will have you shaking and coming apart around him.
“Fuck Daddy, fuck I’m cumming!” you squeal, writhing and squirming from the painful, aching tightness of your orgasm as it builds once more. 
“Ergh, fuck yeah, cum on Daddy’s cock as he fills you up. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, I love this sweet pussy.”
You shriek as you cum, your climax so strong that your vision blurs at the edges and you convulse, sore muscles twitching with overuse. 
“Daddy’s gonna breed his sweet little girl, fuck, feels so fucking good!” Keishin groans, burying himself as deeply as he can inside you and shooting his cum into your quivering hole. You sigh in relief at the feeling of his warm cum flooding your womb, thankful he finally came because you couldn’t have lasted much longer in your state.
He flops next to you on the bed, sweaty and exhausted from your hours-long fuck marathon. Throwing an arm over your waist, he pulls you to his chest and buries his nose in your neck. 
Hitomi’s not supposed to come back for several hours, so you both deem it safe to fall asleep as you are. Just when you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes from the bedside table.
You reach for your phone, expecting it to be some spam email.
Your heart stops, the whole world seems to freeze when you open the text message.
From: Tomie <3
So when were you going to tell me you’re fucking my dad?
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Note
Hey so you mentioned in a story that Dakota gets heartburn a lot 👀👀 could you please please write one more instance? Like in a birthday party or sumthin
Here you go, lovely anon! 
There’s actually no puking in this because the story went in a different direction. I know I said I was going to include emeto but....
If you do want some pukey Dakota in the future then feel free to send a request. 
--------------------------------------
The bed’s wooden framed creaked as Dakota and Blair fell onto the mattress. Well, it was more like Blair shoving her boyfriend onto the bed than anything. She crawled on top of him with a playful smile and began kissing his stubble-covered jaw. Outside the bedroom door, the heavy bass of music drowned out any sound they might make. Like a moan.
Dakota did moan beneath Blair’s lips but not for the reason you might think. The sudden experience of being pushed onto his back caused the contents of Dakota’s stomach to slosh up his esophagus. It burned for a moment before a different type of heat took over.
He kissed Blair back, enjoying the way her hands snaked under his shirt. She obviously thought his moaning was caused by something else. They never intended to do this, especially not at someone’s else house, but the empty rooms upstairs were too inviting. Both of them were drunk because it was Shawn’s birthday party after all.
Dakota should have known that tequila coupled with lime and salt shots would set off a fire in his chest. He knew that alcohol was often the culprit for his heartburn, and then sucking the acidic fruit was just asking for it. He moaned again, feeling something rise in his throat, and then broke away from the kiss. He needed to get off his back or the burning sensation would continue to crawl up higher in his chest.
Dakota let out a long exhale and sat up on the bed with Blair still in his lap. Once upright, a deep belch erupted form his mouth which he tried to blow away from Blair’s face. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing his chest. The discomfort was quickly sobering him up and he didn’t like it one bit.
“You alright?” Blair asked, with her arms around his neck. “Heartburn?”
Dakota nodded while grimacing. He tried swallowing the buildup of saliva in his mouth, but it felt like there was a lump in his throat. His adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “I need to stand up for a second.”
Blair quickly got off his lap. “Maybe some fresh air will help.”
Heeding Blair suggestion, the two of them fixed themselves before leaving the bedroom. Blair was only slightly disappointed that nothing happened, but she soon got over that upon seeing the unease in Dakota’s face. She hoped they could find Shawn or Mateo and ask for an antacid.
The bedroom door no longer muffled the sound of voices and music. They walked through the house, trying to get to the backdoor while dodging ping pong balls and drunken partiers. Shawn definitely knew how to throw a birthday celebration.
Speaking of Shawn, before the couple could make it to a less crowded area, they ran into none other than the birthday boy. He was calmer than Blair expected him to be, but the scent clinging to him soon explained why.
“Yo Kota, Blair,” Shawn greeted them. He dragged out Blair’s name and gave her a goofy smile. “Havin’ fun I hope.”
“Yeah,” Blair said, slightly distracted. “Hey, Shawn, where’s Mateo?” She wanted to ask Shawn for help, but he seemed more that slightly distracted. His drooping eyes told her that Mateo would probably be the better person to ask.
“Uhh in the kitchen maybe?” He scratched his head, pointed to the ceiling, then walked away without another word.
Dakota and Blair exchanged glances. “Okay then…” Dakota said hesitantly. “Let’s hope he’s right because it’s getting worse.”
Thankfully, Shawn’s hunch was correct because Mateo was indeed in the kitchen. He was cleaning up empty cups and discarded cans. He smiled at them when they entered. “Hey guys, how’s it going?”
“Not so great,” Blair admitted. “Please tell me you have tums or something.”
Mateo thought for a moment, checked some cupboards, then turned back to them with a pink bottle in hand. “Will Pepto do?”
Dakota nodded as enthusiastically as you’d expect for someone with acid bubbling in their belly. “I’ll take anything.”
Normally Dakota would drink it straight from the bottle. He’d gotten pretty good at judging how much he needed. In this case however, he wasn’t about to take a shot of someone’s else medication.
Ironically, after Dakota’s insistence, Mateo poured the thick pink liquid into a red solo cup, so it really was like taking a shot…if that shot took fifty years to slide to your mouth. Regardless, Dakota was glad to have something to extinguish the flames in his chest.
“I hope that helps,” Mateo said. “Now, I have to go and find my very drunk and stoned boyfriend before he hurts himself. We’ll probably be needing that Pepto tomorrow.”
Dakota and Blair thanked him. Despite the chaos in the house, Mateo seemed to be relaxed, or at least having a good time. The first time they met him, Mateo didn’t speak much, but it seemed that dating Shawn was making him more outgoing.
Blair grabbed Dakota’s hand and they went outside to the front yard where it was quieter than out back. They sat on the stone steps leading up to the door. It was a cool night, so they snuggled up next to each other.
“Is it working? Blair asked. “Are you feeling better?”
Dakota held up his finger and swallowed thickly before burping into his fist. It was a long, chesty burp, but he sighed afterwards. “Getting there.”
“Good.” She put her head on his shoulder. With her long nails, she drew circles on his leg.
The music was once again muffled to where they could barely hear it. They could however hear crickets hiding in the bushes. Dakota exhaled while looking up at the night sky. “I feel old.”
Blair actually laughed out loud. “Why?”
“Did you see Shawn back there? I miss that,” he admitted while shaking his head. “Now I can’t even have a few drinks without my stomach acting up.”
“I’ll admit, we don’t party like we used to. But he is only two years younger than us.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Besides,” Blair said with a shy smile. “I don’t mind slowing down as long as it’s with you.”  
Dakota smiled. He leaned in to kiss Blair but the moment was ruined by another belch that hit the back of his throat. “Sorry,” he said, feeling his ears go red. He let his head fall onto her shoulder and buried his face in the fabric of her shirt. “I can’t fucking win tonight.”
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hold-my-hair-back · 7 years
Note
9P for Aiden?
As always, I have a million requests unfilled, but I was hoping this drabble would get my muse flowing. I would love to have a full-length fic posted tonight. 
Also, I told @wemermaid4this I would tag them in my Aiden stories. I hope you enjoy this one as well, hun. 
The prompt was puking at a New Year’s party. Enjoy. And thanks for the request, Q!
Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One…
“Happy New Year!” The entire room was cheering and Aiden looked over at Emmett with a big smile before the two embraced, connecting their lips for a long, loving kiss. Aiden loved how he and Emmett could kiss a million times, and each one would still be just as special as the first.“I love you,” Emmett yelled over the loud cheering, and Aiden felt his heart flutter happily. “I’m gonna go get us some sparkling cider. It’s kinda hot in here.” Aiden nodded in agreement, and he wished he felt more comfortable in fewer layers of clothing. His great aunt’s house was huge, but with three dozen people, it was starting to get a bit crowded and overwhelming. Not to mention, anything below 80 degrees was too cold for her, so everyone at the party was beginning to break a sweat. To get away from the crowd, Aiden moved over to the wall to wait for Emmett. Aiden was feeling beyond grateful that his boyfriend had attended the party with him, as he knew he would probably have had a panic attack by now if it weren’t for Emmett staying by his side the whole time. Moments later, Emmett came back, holding two glasses of sparkling cider. Aiden gladly took one and took a sip, instantly grimacing at the taste. “This tastes like it’s as old as my great aunt.”Emmett chuckled and he slid down the wall, gesturing for Aiden to do the same. Once they were on the floor, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, Emmett began to inspect his own glass. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s been in her fridge for a few decades, based on what I saw in her fridge earlier when we were helping her set up. There’s ranch that expired eight years ago.” Aiden shuddered but took another drink of the cider anyway because it was at least cold. Aiden regretted it almost instantly, as he suddenly felt strange. It was indescribable, really, and he wasn’t sure what was happening. He looked over to Emmett who was taking his first sip of his drink and frowned when his boyfriend’s expression changed. “Shit,” Emmett said softly, looking over at him. Aiden could see the look of panic on Emmett’s face, and he wasn’t sure what was going on. “What?” he asked slowly, setting his drink down on the ground next to him. “Emmett, what is it?”
Emmett seemed lost in thought and he sniffed at the cider before running his hand through his hair. “Aiden, I’m so sorry. The labels must’ve gotten mixed up. How much did you drink?”Aiden wasn’t sure why Emmett seemed so freaked out. He also wasn’t sure why his brain felt a little fuzzy. “Uh…” he began slowly, looking at the glass. “Two drinks. They were big, though. I was thirsty..”“I should have smelled them first or something.” Emmett’s tone was apologetic, and Aiden wanted to ask why, but then his boyfriend’s hand was on his cheek and his head was being turned to look him in the eyes. “Aiden, it wasn’t cider, it was champagne. I’m sorry. The table had a note that said it was cider, but some dumb kid probably switched it. How are you feeling?” Aiden swallowed thickly as panic began to rise. He had never had alcohol before, and he never had planned on it. He wasn’t sure how to respond, but then he saw how guilty Emmett looked and he shrugged, hoping to pass it off like it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s not your fault,” he said softly, closing his eyes as the room began to spin a bit. “I feel all fuzzy.” “I could have smelled them,” Emmett protested. “And fuzzy like what?” Aiden contemplated Emmett’s question for a moment. “I dunno. Weird. I don’t like this feeling, Em. I just had two drinks…” “Champagne hits you pretty quick since it’s carbonated. That’s the whole point. It’s supposed to make you feel ‘bubbly’.”
“You don’t seem bubbly,” Aiden protested as he leaned against Emmett’s side affectionately.
“Because I drink,” Emmett pointed out as he wrapped his arm around Aiden, pulling the boy closer. “And you’ve never touched alcohol before, so my tolerance is different than yours. I felt it when I first took a drink and I could taste it too. Really, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”
Aiden waved away Emmett’s apology, knowing there was nothing that could be done about it now. “I don’t think I’m drunk or anything. Just…fuzzy.”
Emmett nodded slowly, but Aiden could feel the grip on his shoulder tighten for just a moment. “Yeah, it’ll wear off soon.”
Aiden nodded and closed his eyes again, feeling himself relax against Emmett’s body. The light-headedness was wearing off, but it was starting to be replaced with a rolling feeling in the pit of his stomach. Without any warning, a belch escaped him, and he instantly put a hand to his mouth, pulling away from Emmett. “E-excuse me. Sorry, Em. My tummy is feeling kinda bubbly now.”
Emmett’s green eyes were full of concern again as Aiden slowly removed his hand from his mouth. “Are you feeling nauseous? Or is it just because of the carbonation?”
Aiden opened his mouth to answer but had to quickly bring his hand up to it as he felt another gas bubble work its way up his throat. When it came up, it was wet and Aiden could taste the alcohol again, making him grimace. “I dunno. I feel a little sick,” he admitted as he rested his hand on his stomach.
Emmett nodded in understanding as he brushed back some of Aiden’s blonde hair. “Yeah, I kinda figured. You’ve got the most sensitive stomach I’ve ever seen; I would’ve been surprised if the alcohol settled okay. Should we go to the bathroom?”
Aiden could feel the contents of his stomach shift and he knew everything wanted to come up. “I think I need to – urrp – throw up,” he answered, putting his hand back over his mouth as yet another sick-sounding burp came out.
Emmett stood and helped Aiden up, doing so slowly and carefully in hopes to not further upset Aiden’s stomach. “Can you make it upstairs? No one else is up there and you can have some privacy.”
Aiden didn’t feel dangerously nauseous, and privacy sounded nice, so he nodded, allowing Emmett to lead him to the upstairs bathroom. Thankfully, he wasn’t feeling so out of it anymore, but the sick feeling in his stomach was getting worse with each step, making walking a bit more difficult. It took a while, but they eventually reached the bathroom where Emmett immediately helped Aiden kneel in front of the toilet, just in time for a long, ominous belch to echo through the bowl.
“Excuse me,” Aiden whispered, still feeling as though he needed to be polite about letting his gas up. As he scooted closer to the toilet, Emmett was kneeling beside him, rubbing his back which helped him feel less alone and safer.
“You’re excused,” Emmett replied. “Your stomach is sick. It’s gonna happen, sweetheart.”
Aiden opened his mouth to allow the excess saliva to drip into the bowl. An involuntary whimper escaped as he shuddered, and Aiden knew he was close to throwing up. He gagged seconds later, the movement catching him off guard and jerking his whole body forward. He wasn’t given time to recover before the second one hit him, this time bringing up a mouthful of the alcohol he had just consumed. “Ew,” he whispered, spitting into the toilet. “It burns coming up.”
Emmett reached over Aiden and flushed the toilet while still rubbing his back. “It’ll be over soon,” he promised. “It’s going to be okay.”
Aiden’s body lurched with another harsh gag and tears rolled down his cheeks as more of his stomach contents made way up his throat, hitting the toilet with a horrendous splash. Another heave shook Aiden’s body before he even had the chance to take a breath, though nothing came up. He wrapped his arm around his churning middle and sniffed pitifully as tears began to fall into the toilet. “Don’t feel good,” he whispered.
Emmett’s hand froze for a moment before continuing to rub soothing circles on his back. “I’m sorry,” Emmett responded sadly, his tone full of guilt. “This is on me.”
Aiden didn’t believe that for a second, but he didn’t have time to argue before he heaved again, bringing up a trickle of bile. The taste of stomach acid made him gag again, but he was relieved that he felt empty and significantly better. Emmett flushed the toilet again and Aiden took that opportunity to lean back against his boyfriend, practically crawling into his lap. “I’m sleepy,” Aiden mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Not only was it later than he usually stayed up, but his body was exhausted from being sick. Aiden reluctantly pulled away from Emmett and slowly got to his feet to stretch. “Can we go home?” he asked, turning toward the sink so he could rinse his mouth out with water and hopefully get rid of the acidic taste on his tongue.
Emmett didn’t answer and Aiden faced his boyfriend again, only to see him sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong. Aiden knelt in front of Emmett and pulled his hands away from his face, hoping to get him to make eye contact. “Please don’t be sad, Em. I’m okay. You’re probably right about someone switching the signs on the table. I’m not mad.”
Aiden knew at this point, it didn’t matter that he wasn’t mad. Emmett was angry enough with himself to make up for it. Emmett had a tendency to blame himself for everything and could feel guilty about something for the rest of his life. That’s why instead of talking again, Aiden wrapped his arms around his boyfriend – a silent gesture to hopefully bring a bit of reassurance.
Aiden’s body had gotten rid of what made him sick, and he was fine now. However, he knew the recovery time for Emmett would be a lot longer.
Oops. Apparently, I don’t know how to write a drabble.
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sickdaysofficial · 7 years
Text
Sick Days Day 1 – Not the Norm
WARNING: vomiting, panic attack, ptsd, alcohol, drug use, death, gun violence, child abuse mention (this fic is a fucking minefield lmao)
Fandom: My OCs (Alan and Cici)
“Al, are you sure this party’s not gonna kill us?”
Cici could already feel the slight pain in her feet from her four-inch heels, and her hair, which was down for the first time in over a week, was hanging in her eyes.
Alan laughed, grabbing Cici’s hand and swinging it back and forth.
“I know these guys. They’re not that bad,” he replied. “It’s gonna be fun, seriously.”
“I’m sure,” Cici said sarcastically. “Remind me again why I’m here?”
“Uh…to be a good influence?”
Cici laughed. “You know I trust you.”
“To show off that new license of yours?”
“Like anyone’s gonna card me at a fucking frat party.”
“Because I’ll take any excuse to get you in heels so I don’t have to lean down to kiss you?”
“I’m pretty sure I could wear stilts and you’d still have to lean down.”
“Well,” Alan grinned, “maybe it’s just because I can’t even stand to spend one night without you.”
Cici rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the wide smile from spreading over her face.
“You’re awful,” she laughed. “But I love you. So if you insist.”
Alan bent down and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Love you too.”
It would’ve been a bit late to back out anyway. Already, Cici could hear the beat of loud music, along with a few drunken shouts, from down the street. She took a deep breath. She’d never been much of a party person, but Alan was, and she was a pretty good actress.
“You’ll stay close?” Cici asked.
“Yeah. All night.”
The noise grew louder as the two of them approached the frat house in question, which was clearly already packed with people. Some of them had spilled out onto the front lawn, and were getting stoned or making out in bushes. A bouncer stood at the door, but he greeted Alan with a smile and let them both in without a second glance. Alan always seemed to know just about everyone.
The main room was and dimly lit, and the noise was deafening. Cici felt her breath pick up slightly, as the weight of a hundred people seemed to crush in around her. She forced herself to smile.
“You good?” Alan asked. She could barely hear him over the beat of the hip-hop song playing, but she could read his lips well enough.
“Fine,” she replied.
“You want a drink?”
“Sure. Just beer.”
“Just beer,” Alan confirmed. “I’ll be right back.”
Cici nodded, following Alan with her eyes as he walked away from her. He stood out easily; he was taller than everyone else in the room. She forced herself to relax. As long as Alan was there, nothing bad would happen.
LINE
As the night went on, Cici found herself relaxing and beginning to have a good time. She wasn’t quite in her element, but Alan was, and he stuck by her side. The two of them teamed up to kick two frat boys’ asses at beer pong, and she found herself thanking her perfect hand-eye coordination and Alan’s incredible tolerance as the other two staggered around drunkenly, whining about the game not being fair. She hadn’t had much to drink; alcohol tended to make her more sleepy than uninhibited. But she could feel herself smiling more than usual, as she and Alan danced to the music that didn’t seem so loud anymore. That was one thing she was definitely good at.
Alan stopped dancing abruptly and leaned down, bringing his lips level with Cici’s ear.
“You’re kicking my ass out here, babe,” he said fondly. “Want to go grab some more drinks before I start sweating through this shirt?”
Cici laughed. “Look at you, needing a break.”
“Well,” Alan replied, “if you keep dancing like that I might forget we’re in public.”
She shook her head quickly, kissing him on the cheek. “Well, later, we won’t be. Until then, we are not reliving your trashy sophomore life.”
“Oh my god, that was one time!” He laughed, and Cici could see the reflection of the people dancing around them in his sparkling blue eyes. He grabbed her hand and started walking off the dance floor. “Come on.”
“I think I’m just gonna have a water,” Cici said, as Alan guided her through the throngs of people in the direction of the makeshift bar. “Unless you want me to fall asleep on you.”
“Sounds good,” Alan agreed. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna switch to beer. I’m almost starting to feel it.”
“Well, not everyone here’s a fucking giant,” she laughed. “Come on.”
It happened in an instant. One second, everything was fine; the next, Cici felt the world crash down around her.
“Hey, Al,” a slightly slurred male voice called out over the music. “Wanna come do a line with us?”
Cici registered the words and tried to look away, but it was too late. Her eyes found the mound of cocaine on the table, and the group of people gathered around snorting it with dollar bills or separating it out into lines. Her knees buckled without warning, and she was only vaguely aware of firm hands gripping her, and Alan’s angry voice in her ears.
“You better put that away before I call the cops on your ass!”
“Dude, it’s just coke. Come on, your girlfriend can have some too.”
“Get that shit away from her!”
Maybe he kept talking. But Alan was gone now, his voice replied by a younger, softer one. Jack. She could see him now, like it was yesterday, bracing himself on the frame of their front door. Seventeen, charming, dark-haired and grey-eyed, and more terrified than she’d ever seen him in her life.
“Give me the damn money, I’m not gonna ask twice.”
“I told you, there was a problem—”
“Yeah? Well don’t make it my problem. I want the fucking money.”
She’d heard the doorbell ring, seen Jack hurry to answer it, telling her urgently to stay where she was. But she hadn’t listened. That one time when it had mattered, she just hadn’t listened. She’d followed him out instead and seen him at the door, with the man she didn’t know.
“Jack?” she’d asked, and he’d turned instantly, raw fear filling his eyes. “Who’s that?”
“Cici, baby, go back inside.”
“Well, what’s this?” she man had asked, and she’d flinched. “Damn, Williams, you got yourself a kid?”
“She’s my sister.” She’d never seen his face this tight, this pale.
The man had snorted before turning back to Jack, pulling a bag of something powdery white out of the inside pocket of his jacket.
“You see this? I’m paying you to move two of these in a week. And you can’t even do half that?”
“I told you, they kicked me off the corner.”
“So find another damn corner,” the man had snarled. “And give me the money you owe. This shit comes out of your cut.”
“Cici,” Jack whispered. “You have to go back inside. Go back to Mommy.”
“Mommy will just hit me again.”
“Cici.” He was so scared. Jack was supposed to be too strong to get scared. “Right now.”
But she’d stayed. She’d stayed because she was scared too, and just so confused, not understanding why Jack was acting like that, and why he was talking to that man.
“Let me put it this way,” the man had said. “You get me that cash by tomorrow, and I can think of two people who are gonna be real happy. That’s me, and your baby sister.”
Jack’s hands had started to shake at that. “Are you threatening her?”
“I don’t know. Do you want to find out?”
And then his hands had shaken more, and she’d watched, frozen, as he reached into his jacket. She’d seen the wide-eyed look on Jack’s face, the sheer desperation as he fired the gun. The shot had gone right through the bag, sending its contents flying through the air as the man fell backward. She’d barely even registered the blood at first, just the white powder drifting down and landing in it. Like snow.
“Cici!”
She could sense the arms around her again, half carrying her through the crowd. He couldn’t be here. That made no sense. But she could still see him in front of her, standing stock still.
“Hey, come on, Cici.” A pause. “Caroline.”
Jack never called her that.
“Al,” Cici whispered. Her stomach jolted with fear as the image flashed before her eyes again. So much blood. Jack wasn’t supposed to hurt people. Her mouth flooded with saliva and she let it drip onto the floor as she let out an empty gag.
Alan had been holding her up as he pushed his way through the crowd, but he stopped now, letting her drop to her knees by the nearest wall.
“Hey, hey, I’ve got you,” he murmured. She felt one of his hands rubbing strong and steady circles on her back, the other gathering her hair away from her face. “It’s not real, I promise.”
Cici just shook her head. Old, yes. It had been almost sixteen years. But definitely real. Her shoulders shook as she heaved violently, bringing up a large splash of watery vomit onto the floor.
“It’s not real,” Alan said softly. “I’m right here.”
She retched again, and another sizable wave poured from her mouth. She almost choked and continued gagging, letting up a steady stream of vomit. She had no control over the heaves that continued to overtake her; it was if her body thought that once she emptied her stomach the vomiting might get around to emptying her brain. At least it was almost painful enough to be distracting.
“Try to take a deep breath for me,” Alan whispered. Cici could feel him steadying her, and she tried to obey him, but her inhale just turned into another retch. This time, she only brought up a few small chunks of sick. Another round of gagging scraped the back of her throat. It took several more tries to get anything else up, and then it was just an acidic stream of bile. She had to stop, but she couldn’t. There had to be some way to get it out of her head. She fell into dry heaves, trembling and wincing with every retch.
“Caroline,” Alan said gently. “I want to get you out of here, okay? Can you stand up?”
Cici gagged dryly, but after a few seconds, managed to pull herself to her feet. She swayed once she was standing, and had to lean heavily on Alan as he led her back to the door. Her face felt hot and sticky, but she didn’t know if it was from sweat or tears. She managed to make it several houses away from the party before her legs failed her again, and she half collapsed on a patch of grass. Alan sat down next to her, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “If I’d known it was that kind of party I never would’ve—”
“Not your fault,” Cici got out. “I’m just a fucking mess.”
“You’re not a mess,” Alan replied. “You are so much braver than anyone else I know.”
“He…” Her voice trembled slightly. “He just killed him.”
“I know.”
“He did it for me. All of it. He was trying to get me out.”
“You were a kid. That shit was not your fault.”
“It’s so stupid,” Cici whispered. “Sometimes I wish he weren’t dead.”
“That’s not stupid,” Alan told her. “He was your brother. You can be a good brother without being a good person.”
“Yeah, well, try telling that to the rest of the world.”
Alan squeezed her shoulders lightly. “You probably want to go home, right?”
“Yeah,” Cici agreed shakily.
“Should I call the cab now?”
“I’d rather just walk. It’s not that far,” she said. “I’d rather just be with you.”
She took a deep breath and stood up, leaning on Alan’s shoulder slightly for support.
“Thanks,” she said quietly. “Still don’t know what the fuck I did to deserve you, but…you help. A lot. So thanks for being here.”
Alan gave her a soft smile.
“I always will be.”
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Text
Drugs
Saturday the 15th of November 2014
Doomsday
My alarm goes off at half past 8, this gives me plenty of time to get ready, have a large high protein breakfast, a normal morning before my 12 hour Saturday shift, standard. This has been the same most weekend for the last two months, Saturday, the one night of the week I look forward too, not because I have something special planned, it’s the usual, work all day and then go out clubbing with my friends. I spend 20 hours on my feet without complaining as it is self inflicted, but I refuse to give up my Saturday nights. Why would I work my ass off in a minimum wage job just to pay my rent and not have any fun?
I get to work, and I start carrying all the juices and purées up the stairs, I worked out recently I carry around 60 kg up two sometimes four flights of stairs. I don’t need to go to the gym anymore, in a few months I am going to be the incredible hulk.Yes, I work in a bar.
Now I say it is a normal Saturday, but actually this weekend things are slightly different, I won’t be going to my normal Saturday choice, a metal club. Every weekend I chose my poison and end up here, it is not the music that draws me in anymore even though I do love my metal, it is the people. I have around 30 friends which go here every weekend, regulars. The guy who dresses up as the joker, thick face paint and the perfect purple cloak, the drunken slut you see with a different poor soul every weekend, my metal friends, kind, nice people you wish to get merry with. No this weekend my best friend and her boyfriend were coming up to town. This would mean a different club and maybe more consumption of drugs and alcohol, but I didn’t think anything would quite end the way it did.
I look at the time just visible on my smashed cell phone, quarter to 10, perfect, I want to leave dead on 10 o'clock, jump on my newish Dutch bike and cycle home, throw on some makeup, a dress readily picked, my Nike trainers and rush out. I keep an eye on the time and leave as soon as I can.
As soon as I jump on my bike and I feel a rush of excitement, this is inevitable and occurs most Saturdays, I don’t feel tired, I always feel ready to go out! I get home, the first thing is to put on some music, this weekend a choice of Jamie T and some drum and bass, I’m ready to have a good night!
Now before I explain the night, you may need to understand I am extremely random, daring, sometime stupid, I say yes way too much, I act on impulse, the amount of random things that happen to me on nights out are insane and mostly stupid.
I start to walk to a friend’s house, I’m suppose to meet him and then meet up with my best friend, her boyfriend and lots of his friends (I forgot to mention it was his birthday night out so there was a lot of guys coming out with us). I rung my best friend and she has just got off the train and it waiting at the station for me, I see a cab parked near a house and ask him if he was picking someone up, he says he is but they are very late, I ask him for a quick ride. I forget about meeting my friend and get to the station, my best friend, her boyfriend and another guy are waiting for me, I jump out the cab and into my friends arms, they are all buzzing, drunk, high, ready to party.  'HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU ANIMAL!’
‘Hey guys you all okay? fuck it is cold.’ I brought a pink sparkly hip flask of rum with me, here guys have some of this, they drink and choke, 'urghh disgusting cheap stuff!’ 'Have you got any drugs, I need to get on it, I need to get on it now!’ I get handed a small baggy with a dog on the front, 'here is half a gram girl, enjoy.’ Oh it is mdma?
Ahhh I wanted something different this weekend, I wanted pills or sniff, Mdma has started to wear off on me, doesn’t give me the same buzz anymore, but I take it, at this point I’d take anything, another crap week at work, I needed to enjoy myself.  
We started to walk to the club, after finding out where my friends wanted to go I remembered they searched you before entry, the drugs were no problem, I just put them straight in my bra, it was my hipflask. We walked up a busy road and I decided to put the flask on a windowsill, I would check if it was still there on the way home, I didn’t really care if it was going to be taken or not. I was not on the same level as my friends, I was pretty sober so I wanted to get inside and go to the toilet to take the drugs as soon as I could.
It isn’t a nice thing to admit but I have taken drugs for about 4 years now, I felt like I knew what I was doing, what I was upto, my limits, the dangers. Now someone reading this who hasn’t taken anything before, who doesn’t know the research, uneducated about drugs and alcohol will be thinking I’m just a stupid child. But those who understand will know, you feel pretty safe when you feel like you know what you are doing. it’s such a false sense of security, maybe we all feel invincible when we are young. At this point in my life I stupidly believed some drugs were not as dangerous as alcohol, I try not to mix and I thought I understood the dangers. At the time I believed I knew what I was doing, please don’t judge me or the situation.
I wasn’t nervous waiting in line, I have been searched so many time now, I have also been sniffed by sniffer dogs while hiding powder in my bra, it is as normal a procedure as showing your ID now days with the raves I go to. This doesn’t mean it is the right way to feel.
I get into the club, skip to the loo with my girlfriend and get into a cubical, open the packet and stick my finger in, it’s a darker brown than usual, powdery with lumps of crystal. I put my finger onto my tong and suck, the taste hits me, I gag a little, put my finger into the baggy and rub into my gums trying to swallow and create as much saliva as I can. I repeated this again and say to myself that is enough to get me started, my face squirms with the acidic chemical taste, almost unbearable, they all taste bad but this one is really unpalatable. I stuff the baggy into my bra and rush out to the sink, turn the tap on, warm water, shit, I don’t care I cup some water and sip. That is so much better. I walk out, tonight is 80′s music, garage, some house, it isn’t what I love but it is better then I thought it would be, better to get high to this than metal anyway. I find my friend on the dance floor, say hi to the happy bunch and start shuffling, skanking, dancing.
I don’t feel much, I go to the bar and get some tap water, a clear indication I am taking drugs, it is only 11.30 and the first drink I drink is water? Bait much, but they don’t care, no one really cares, as long as they make money, people will always take drugs. I’m back in a cubical, this time with my friend, we laugh, tell each other how much we missed each other, smile, she is already on a level and I want to catch up. Here comes my baggy again, I take a lot, I think I can handle it, there isn’t that much left. I come again to the cubical, I take some of hers, she gives me a large crystal, I say this isn’t doing much yet, I say is it good? I start to feel happy, friendly, loving, not like I use to as I have already said it doesn’t give me the same effects as it use too, maybe I have depleted serotonin levels or maybe my body has built up a tolerance, I definitely 'know’ I can handle half a gram, I have taken grams before and been ‘fine’.
I hug a lot of these guys, dance with them, dance into them, some of them are fucked already, they are happy, dancing, having a great time. I’m smiling inside and out, happy, I don’t feel tired, not a touch of pain. I have the whole bag and whatever I had of my friends bag, I still can’t feel it greatly, I feel like I need a drink, I ask for a vodka orange, I can’t taste the vodka so I ask for another shot, I don’t normally mix drugs and alcohol, but I thought I had some stuff that wasn’t great and I wanted to feel more.
uh oh.
My hands feel numb, the music is dark, deep and loud, I feel the bass vibrations run through my body, I breath in and every breath is wonderful, I laugh.
Then I start to feel really fucked
A fucked I haven’t experienced before
I can’t see, I feel my eyes shaking, darting back and forth in my head it all starts.
I tripped, seeing patterns everywhere, floating in the sky, dinosaurs with open mouths gawping at me.
I was speaking to a friend on the phone and though it was someone else, even after the whole conversation. I kept forgetting what i was doing, who i was with, where i was. I had to stop myself and think, what the hell is going on?
My eyes shock so much I couldn’t see, my vision so blurry, everything spinning.
I couldn’t text or read the texts on my phone, I covered my eyes trying to focus.
I left the club?
Where am I?
Walking round endless city streets, alone, a maze of pavements.
I walked home at 5 am, sat on my kitchen floor for an hour, then I just wondered about the bathroom and stared in the mirror, transfixed, until my flatmate found me.
Are you okay?
yeah man i’m fine..fffine?  I kept rubbing my hands through my hair again and again.
I made it into bed, felt the darkness surround me, and lay there shaking. This was not fun.
I woke up, only a few hours later, what is this darkness I feel embedded in my heart. ‘The comedown’
Why am I alive?
Is life worth living?
I reach over to a full bottle of rum, a litre and drink the whole thing, the sickly, disgusting taste drowning my emptiness.
I wake again, paramedics standing over me?
Suicidal? more like embarrassed, it was self inflicted, i don’t want you, go and help someone who needs it I say again and again, please, i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry for wasting your time.
What a catastrophe, drugs aren’t that fun..
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