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"Ok, how the FUCK are you cheating!?" You shouted at the smug man sitting across from you. Doug just continues to have that infuriating smirk on his stupid face on his stupid bald head.
You had made the mistake of staring off, thinking about your own existence and the future death of the Earth and everyone on it. You tried to get your mind off of it, cleaning a good portion of your house and even dressing in an layered outfit to try and feel more alive. Unfortunately, you had made the mistake of sitting at your dining table, listening to whatever record Rainey had left on and losing yourself in your thoughts as you stared at the yellow wallpaper ahead of you. It hadn't even been 10 seconds until the hulking white of mass that was Doug showed up, dropping a set of playing cards. You had nothing better to do, so you decided to waste some time playing poker with him, a rare change from playing sudoku or doomscrolling. The first few rounds had been fine, until Doug decided he wanted to fuck with you.
"Look, I know my abs are fantastic and all, but think you could concentrate on the game, Dork?"
"Your abs aren't nearly as amazing as you think." You snipped at him. "Not all of us need to show off skin in the hope that it distracts our opponent."
"Said like a true prude that's too much of a pussy to do what it takes to win." He said as he checked his cards. "Tell you what, if my hand beats yours, you take off some clothes."
You stared, eye twitching.
He shrugged. "Just do what I say, Dork. At least you can seem passively attractive by doing what I say."
And thus began the game of strip poker. You would think that it would be an easy win for you, considering that the guy was always half naked and you counted each of your shoes, socks and every single accessory you had on separately, but somehow the fucker got you down to only your under bottoms and your shirt.
"I know you're cheating, one way or another." You hissed at him as you slammed your cards down in frustration.
Doug just stared at you with that stupid smirk. When you're finished with your outburst, he just laughs. "Cheating? Me? I'm shocked, absolutely shocked, that you'd accuse me of such a thing, Dork. Truly, your lack of faith in me is... well, it's just another example of how you consistently underestimate how dope I am at everything. Now hurry up and flash me your tits so we can start the next round."
You let out an annoyed sound, but still grabbed the hem of your fantastic red shirt and pulled it off, making sure to twist it into a ball before launching it at Doug's stupid face. The ball of fabric hit him with a soft thud, briefly covering up his blank expression before falling to who cares where. "I hate you, you know that?" You say, crossing your arms over your chest to try and save what crumbs of dignity you have left.
"I'm truly devastated. Look at me, about to shed a tear. Now shut up and let me shuffle the cards."
The next round begins and you peak at your cards. Two aces and three fives. Holy crap, you might actually win this round!
"Fun. You're about to lose again."
With that, Doug puts his cards down on the table. He's not bothering to keep them hidden anymore. He's too confident that he has the upper hand.
...The bastard has a royal flush.
You're about to flip the table over before you take a good, long look at the cards in front of you. And then, you're glaring at Doug once more. "...Funny. You should know your deck seems to have two ace of spades."
Whoops. He got caught.
"Well, would you look at that. It seems there was a little... mix-up with the deck." He says it like it's no big deal. Like it's not a blatant, obvious cheat. Like he didn't just get caught red-handed. He's just looking at you with that same steady, unblinking gaze.
"Aren't you the same guy who told me that using pen and paper to do sudoku makes me a stinking little cheat ass?" You asked, using the last strands of your control to keep your voice steady.
A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's not much, just the faintest curve of his lips, but it's enough to make your blood boil. He leans back in his chair, the wood creaking under his shifting weight.
"Your point being?"
…
"God, you cheating bastard!"
Sure enough, the damn had broken. You're cussing him out in ways that are actually so vulgar, the narrator can't even describe them.
And then, you're on his lap, digging your nails into his shoulders as you pull him down to push your lips against him. It's almost violent in nature, teeth clashing as you bite down hard on his lips. You hate how easily he riles you up. You hate that you like getting riled up. You hate that you have such a kink for assholes.
You hate that he has mastered the best ways to piss you off and use that kink against you.
Doug hisses through clenched teeth as your nails dig into his shoulders, the sharp pain only spurring him on as he kisses you back just as fiercely, just as violently. He bites you back, hard enough to taste the coppery tang of blood on his tongue. He didn't care, reveling in the pain, the anger, the raw and unbridled passion you threw at him.
Neither of you are gentle. Neither of you are tender. Neither of you are any of the things that people would be during such passion.
Doug breaks the kiss suddenly, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are black, fathomless pits in the dim light of the kitchen. His face is flushed a deep, angry red, the only color on his usually marble white skin. "You're such a fucking bitch," he growls, his voice rough and ragged. Rougher than it usually is, but still unmistakably him. "You know that? You're a goddamn fucking bitch." He punctuates his words with a sharp, stinging slap to your ass. Hard enough to make a sound, hard enough to leave a red handprint on your skin.
But there's no real malice behind it. No real anger. Just... hunger. Desire. A dark, twisted hunger that only grows stronger the more you fight him.
He's not trying to hurt you. He's trying to consume you. To bring you close and make you scream with that annoyingly nice voice. And he knows you want the same thing.
It always ends in hate sex, and you both fucking love it.
"Shut up and fuck me, asshole." You demand as your lips found his again.
Doug hisses through clenched teeth, gripping your hips tights, grinding your core against the prominent bulge straining against his jeans. He shoves you against the table, your back hitting the wood hard as he shoves two fingers into your mouth. "Wet them properly, Dork." He ordered as his other hand moved downwards, grabbing your underwear. You resisted the urge to bite down, as tempting as it was, and instead just make sure to wet them properly.
It's rough, and Doug doesn't really care if it hurts when he pushes his spit slicked fingers into your entrance. It's a miracle he's prepping you at all. It's not like he cares, even as he's careful at first and makes sure to press against the spot that has you writhing against the wood under you and arching your back.
"Haven't even done much to you and you're already acting like a bitch in heat." Doug mocks as he curls his fingers.
"S-Shut up."
When he gets bored of fingering you Doug finally decides to get to it. His hands are at the button of his jeans, popping it open and shoving them down his muscular thighs. His cock springs free, thick and hard and leaking at the tip. At least he has the cock to back up all his shit talk.
Doug gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your soft skin hard enough to leave vivid red marks. He lines himself up, the swollen head of his cock against your entrance. "I should make you beg for it, Dork." He muttered, one of his hands grabbing your jaw. "Come on, let me hear it. Say, "Give me your big, fat cock, Daddy Doug."
You scoffed and slapped his hand off of your jaw. "I'm not begging for shit, and you know it." You wrap your legs around Doug's waist, locking him in and pulling him closer. "You can tell me to beg all you want, but we both know you want nothing more than to lose your shit."
It's how the two of you played the game. You were both too hard headed to submit to the other. Neither ever fucked without being in control, so when the force of your lust collided, it was an unstoppable force against an immovable object.
Dirty and beautiful.
"So either start fucking me or I'll find someone who will."
It was a bluff, a jab to get him going.
Doug's eyes flash with a dark, dangerous light at those words. His jaw clenches, his teeth grinding together as he fights the urge to snap back with a cutting remark. But he holds himself back… for now. Instead, he leans in closer, until his lips are brushing against you ear. His breath is hot, his voice a low, rumbling growl. "Oh, you want someone else to fuck you?" he asks, his tone dripping with mocking amusement. "Like hell you do. You want me. You want me so fucking bad you can't even think straight."
He punctuates his words with a sharp, sudden thrust of his hips. And it all goes from there.
He buries himself to the hilt inside you, groaning as your walls clench and squeeze around him. He starts to move, his hips snapping forward and back in a relentless, punishing rhythm.
He fucks hard and fast, just like he always does. Just like you need. Just like you both need.
The table rocks beneath you, the legs scraping against the floor as it threatens to give out at any moment.
"Fuck, Dork," he grunts, his voice strained with pleasure and exertion, "You feel like goddamn heaven. So fucking tight and perfect."
He leans in close, his breath hot and ragged against your ear as he fucks into you harder, faster, the obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the room. "I know you. I know every fucked up, twisted inch of you. I know that you get off on this. On fighting me, on defying me, on making me work for every fucking inch."
You want to snap at him, you want to have a comeback, but with how he was fucking you, it was hard to think at all.
"Y-You talk too much." You manage to stutter out, your hand finding the back of his smooth head and bringing him down to kiss him.
The sex is everything the two of you needed. It's rough, dirty, and the second he starts rubbing you, quick and firm, you're gone.
Your orgasm crashes over you, your body tensing under him as your silken walls clamp down on him, rippling and fluttering along his length. "Fucking- goddamn it! I-I hate you." You mutter out, despite your brain feeling like mush.
He doesn't stop fucking you, doesn't let up for even a second as you come undone. If anything, he fucks harder, driving into you with ruthless intensity, even as you squeeze his hard bicep from the overstimulation. Doug just chuckles at you before leaning in, his teeth sinking into the side of your neck, making sure to make a nice, dark mark. A brand of possession that everyone will see. Let them all know who fucks you properly.
"Hate you too, dork. Now shut up and let me-" He cuts himself off as he slams in one, two, three more times before finally, he grips your hips as you feel a warmth within you. His cock throbs and pulses, filling you as he grinds against your ass.
The two of you lay there, basking in your afterglows. When he pulls back from you, he takes in your wrecked expression, skin flushed and glistening with sweat. He's ever so kind to pull out slowly, watching as you drip with his seed. "Damn, wish I had my phone. This view would be perfect for the spank bank."
You reply with a fucked out moan.
Doug just chuckles.
He lets you rest for a moment, drinking in the sight of you. If he wasn't… well, Doug, he might even say you look beautiful.
But he doesn't. He doesn't do that sappy shit. Instead, he drops five cards on you. "Come on, Dork. If you win, I'll consider having a round two."
You flip him off.