Russian Roulette [Smut]

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Russian Roulette

[Smut, gun play (loaded but no violence), choking by gun, probably short chapter]

(If you can guess what song this is based on I'll write ANY request of yours)

(You're welcome Danny)
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  The tangerine spun the cylinder, holding the barrel to his head with a remorseful grin. With a quick pull of the trigger he was greeted with a click, no bang, no bullet. He chuckled to himself, opening his eyes to meet Daves, the aubergines half lidded eyes piercing into his.

  "Your turn, Davey~" Jack hummed, handing the gun to Dave, holding it out in front of the others face. Daves eyes locked onto the revolver, mouth agape as he smiled slyly. Daves mouth took the barrel of the gun, lips clasped around the metal frame.

  Jack looked at Dave in curiosity, eyebrow crooked upwards as Daves cheeks hollowed around the gun, saliva dripping down to the frame. Dave mindlessly moved his tongue around the barrel, spit coating his lips.

  Jack scoffed, pulling the gun back.

  "Tch- can't do anything without you being horny, huh?" Jack grimaced, watching Dave smile.

  "But you know you love seeing me below you~" Dave grinned wider, eying Jack up and down. The tangerine legs were crossed, giving a clear view of his crotch as they sat on the floor. Jack grunted, quickly leaning forward to shove Dave against the side of the bed, growing aggravated. Daves hands snaked around Jacks waist, looking up at the tangerine needingly.

  "Fucking bitch, get on the bed." Jack ordered, watching Dave squirm away from him and climb on the musty bed.

  Jack grabbed the gun, setting it on the drug covered end table. The tangerine sat over Dave, pining the taller mans arms above his head. Daves head crooked to the side, finding his friends dominance alluring.

   Jack wanted nothing more than to spit in Daves face and rock his world, but he decided on something different, something slower. The tangerine pushed Daves legs apart, sliding between the purples thighs. Dave watched Jack carefully, letting out a low groan once Jack pushed his knee against Daves crotch, rubbing slowly.

"Hah~ mind pickin' up the pace?" Dave asked in a more of pleading tone, twisting his head upwards.

  "Hmm? What was that Davey?" Jack grinned, pushing down harder on the spot. Dave whined a little louder, gritting his teeth an he readjusted his hips, trying to gain the lost friction.

  "Said- hah- pick up the pace fucker." He grunted, lifting his chin to avoid looking into Jacks eyes.

  "And why should I, huh? Youve been rather bad I think, didn't even pull the trigger. Are you scared, Davey?" Jacks eyes trailed Daves body, his Clementine hands letting go of the land wrist, moving then down his body and to the hem of his pants.

  "F-fuck no! I ain't a pussy! Just got... Urges... Yknow.." Daves voice trailed off, distracted by the cold hands pulling down his pants, revealing his disgustingly dirty boxers, covered in stains of God knows what. (Probably dropped a few kebabs.)

  "Then why don't we play a little?" Jack snickered, grabbing the gun from the table, sickening grin on his lips.

  "Sports- Uh... jack... what are you doing?"

  "You'll see, now it's time for you to shut up." Jack smiled positioning the gun against Dave's pursed lips, forcing them apart. Dave seemed alarmed at this, too focused on the loaded gun to mind Jacks other hand trailed up his shirt, slowly unbuttoning the fabric.

  The gun dove deeper into Daves mouth, forcing spit to cover the barrel, some seeping from the corner of Daves lips. Jack grinned, now with the aubergines shirt fully unbuttoned he traced along the man's scars, sending shivers up Daves spine. After Jack had felt almost every mark he moved to Daves nipples, to his liking they were pierced.

~Davesport Oneshots~Where stories live. Discover now