in my feelings (ray toro x reader) pt.6???
drug dealer ray x reader
cnc! guys this one has cnc!
tw: dddne (in a way) cnc, excessive physical force, discussion of drug taking and drugs in general- insulting language. idk this is my dream date wtf u want me to say. I like it. uhhhhhhh. watching tv!
wc/ 1960? me thinks
mwah
âItâs Dorothy Parker?â Yeah, ive been reading her, like off and on for four months- the print is tiny, but sheâs gotta a great voice and the-the lonely- âthe lonely leave?â Uh. yeah. Exactly.Â
He does this, a lot. Knows something that youâve never told him, is aware of what you are about to say. Heâs good at it in all aspects. confusing knowledge about things youâve loved for years, books/movies/tv- he knows a little bit about everything.Â
The car is parked up on carries street and youâre waiting for a milkshake to be brought out to you. Youâve spent the whole day together, and itâs impossible to get bored of him. He keeps doing little things, laughing louder- smiling brighter. Heâs bringing himself out of his shell more and more, inch my inch. You wonder at the sunrise of his personality. You talk about seeing a movie, you kick him when he swipes a finger through the cold vanilla of your shake. He kisses your cheek and whispers pouty. He drives up the north street, then down to his pick up.Â
Heâs moving large amounts now, just driving them locally. You wouldnât tell him to get another job, but right now heâs a fucking glorified amazon driver. But heâs gotten better at the roads, he could move through the grid of where you live with his eyes half shut and his hands fully tied. Its impressive. And heâs paid better, but you know its more incriminating. This isnât oh officer im just giving my friend a little medical Mary Jane, oh sir its only a .25! This is âyour money or your lifeâ amounts of suspicious, tight wrapped bin bags. You try not to think about it, and you can tell ray if half the same. Looking over the idea like its in his rear view mirror at all times.Â
He does the drop off in under 20 minutes, and you talk about anything else the whole time. And heâs asking questions about your dadâs birthday party in a few weeks, if he should wear a good shirt to dinner. You explain that he has many good shirts, and he blushes. Itâs all still naive and young, and about like-liking each other. You havenât moved out of that phase yet.Â
He drives up to his today, pulls into the his flat in north and nods toward his front door. You move to open your door, and he bats your hand away like youâre an idiot. Moving to reach over and open it for you.Â
âI havenât like, cleaned up or anything- so if you see a rat then thats on you and the rat, not meâ he says as you trudge up his front steps. Sure, its the rats problem- heâs been eating at your mattress for like what? Three-four month-âthat was one time.â
You go in, and he is a terrible liar, his house is semi-spotless. The room is air-freshened, with a folded fucking throw on his banged up couch. You giggle as you trail a finger tip across his hallway table, and tut mockingly at the finger-full of dust you show him. It doesnât take long for him to chase you toward the living room and battle you down to the couch with large hands to your hips, pushing you backwards to crowd you and kiss over your neck. âYou know youâre stuck here with me, right?â
His words are interrupted due to when he kisses loose spots on your chest, and you moan into the idea of submission. Yielding to him. You consider throwing out a fake fight back, explaining that you know exactly how to get out of here. But he doubles down, moving to pin your hands where they lay by your side. âYou never- play, play into it.â
You look up at him. Pausing the moment with direct eye-contact. Leading slightly, go on. Im listening. He chews on his bottom lip before he continues. âYou never, play up who-who people see me as. Who people think. Think I am.âÂ
And look, you know when he wants soft, and when heâs fucking rock hard in his jeans discussing wanting to pretend to be the big-bad-ray. But confirmation is confirmation - so you whisper, quiet: do you want to? And he flushes like heâs inviting you into some den of awful thought. A place of deliberate taboo. But you're right there with him.
And you ask again. He pushes his cock into your clothed crotch. And you get the picture. You think on what to say next, to show him the right way to play. You push your head back into the cool leather and mumble. You wouldnât.
He raises an eyebrow at that- holding your hands down tighter. Rocking himself into you firmer. As you cower into the space behind you. You wouldnât hurt me, like that-would you- ray? And its tricky- but the concept of him being a version of himself that would, is very far away from the ray you are now desperately in love with. He grits his teeth, squeezes harder and nods into you. âI would.âÂ
You shake your head at him, exposing your neck In lew of moaning, go on- and heâs good like that. âI wanna- want to take it so bad, Bir-birdieâ you wouldnât-not-not now- he rocks himself into you firmer, moving one hand off of your arm to hold it over the base of your neck âthats the thing, bab-baby, it would be- so, so much worse now-â you use your free arm to bat away at him, to hit him back and you watch your slaps gain non-reactions from him. You start kicking under his weight to no avail- and he grows an ego the size of himself.
Pushing you down further with the weight of himself- forcing your hand toward his cock ray, ray its not-not funny and he is shocked at your performance. He nearly stops until you give him a light squeeze. Agreeing into the moment, into the new shared secret. He laughs back now, âyeah not-not funny, cmon, youâve given out so many times, and youâre in my fucking house, baby youâre not going anywhere-fucking, fucking lie there and take-take itâÂ
He holds his hand over yours, forcing your fingers to grip at his zipper and expose his cock. And its perverse, his bare dick surrounded by the dark denim of his jeans and your skirt. It looks like an off-colour strip of fabric, badly placed in your area. But its his, and he wants relief- no matter what. He nods toward it like its the sum of all of your efforts, and you shake your head no. it twitches in your fear. You knew ray was bad, but you didnât know he dreamed of ideas half-evil. It sickens you to know youâd love him through it all, plus- you havenât told him the depth of what youâd want to do.Â
You move away- try and roll back from him- but its futile. He grabs and rips at your skirt, tearing it in two from the zipper down. You move to open your mouth, unsure if he wants the full nine- and he grabs at you like heâs taking something owned and deserved- a gift at Christmas. So you yell, high and righteous. Donât-ray cmon, ray-hey- but his fake red mist is consuming him. And he moves to shove two fingers into your core- holding you down into the couch by your cunt. You push at him- but he steps over a light boundary and smacks at your hands- half mast. It stings, and you can tell he feels you close around his hand. Youâre way more into this than you let on.Â
He begins a turn youâd hope heâd have. âYou fucking, baby-what the fuck did you grow up watching?â He moves to roll his fingers inside you, as he stares you down, watching you toss away in embarrassment. âYou on some fucked up site? Watching shit you shouldnât? I thought you were prissier than that- look at me, hey cmon cunt look at me-â and heâs being mean, but yeah heâs good at stuff like this. You lock eyes with him when he scrapes a nail across your walls. And he looks enraptured- overjoyed at the state of his girlfriend. âyou getting' off to this?? You think about me breaking you, before? About doing- doing something worse?â
It kills you to nod your head yes.Â
You remember now, the size of him, as he lifts you into his lap with a hand still inside you. He plants you onto his digits, impaling you. You shake no, he nods yes. âTell meâ no-no ray âtell me nowâ no-no I canât, ray- âtell me, or ill-do, do itâ you look at him, quizzically. Then you scoff, hiding emotion as he raises a hand and bats you across the face, harder than he ever has before. You fold to the side, and he brings you back to his eye-line, eyebrow raised and expectant.Â
It takes two more impacts to reel the thoughts out of you. the thought of ray, taking you as he wanted in the back of his Oldsmobile. Of him spacing you on one something half-cut and fucking you into abandon. Ray slots his cock into you as you recant the fantasy of ray slamming your head into your houses back door as he gropes you instead of taking cash for a deal. He starts fucking you then, hand over your mouth as he spits onto the bridge of your nose.Â
He calls you a bimbo, a cunt. Useless, useful. He fucks you as you bite at his hand, screaming bloody murder as he moans about using your love for him against you, about using his love for you to hurt you. You donât recognise how many times youâve finished. You can feel a puddle on the dark couch, from you, and rays sweat mixing with the spit congealing on your forehead.Â
âYour fucking filthy- by the way-â you can feel him getting closer, his thrusts loosing rhythm. âBegging, begging me to do this to you-â and you didnât, and thats match point. Ray has won the game he wanted to play, figured out the puzzle in his head that leads him to you. âYou want me to break-break you, cause I can put you-put you back together. You want me-to do whatever the fuck-fuck I want, cause you want it-any-any wayâÂ
He pulls out, hand moving fast over his cock as he cums on your stomach, marking you. âI wanna do-do everything to you.â
Hours later, when youâve cried from come down and heâs kissed at your forehead and ordered food. Heâs got you curled up on the couch- watching re-runs of a show from the mid-00s. Something from Disney channel he pretends not to scoff at. Heâs picked something scary to watch later, and reminded you that he bought ice-cream for you last week thats still in his house.
You look at him again, from your spot on the couch. You watch his chest rise and fall with slow, even breaths. You watch him- comfortable in his home, and in the memory of what you guys did today. You watch him blink away the lonely thoughts he had before you, and replace them with the memories made with you. You would watch him all day if you could.Â
