Dsmp x reader smut

Whiskey Dick

Credits to nvmadic

The whiskey just started going down like water at this point, the lagging in your eyes with every head movement began to worsen with every drink you finished, slamming down the red solo cup onto the kitchen counter; the plastic container clattering as it toppled over, your coordination at this point had almost completely deteriorated. Bass thumping, shouting and cheering as people were trying to be heard over the deafening music.

"Another," you demanded with a slight slur as you were heavily inebriated. Schlatt hadn't strayed too far from your side for most of the night. He was matching your pace with the drinking so, in his words, didn't seem like a pussy. "I don't know if I have it in me," he leaned closer so you could hear him over the music, although he still decided to shout; his confidence in his ability to keep up with you had waned. He was close enough that you could feel his breath beside your ear and smell the liquor that he had been chugging all night. "Well, then you'll just have to admit that I win," you turned to look up at him with a smile.

The broad, tall man who had against his will, lost a bet to Ted who was dressed as a knight, was dressed as his noble squire. The outfit would have made a bit more sense had Ted not vanished halfway through the night to be found in an intoxicated slumber, recklessly planted in a flower patch in the yard. Schlatt had ditched most of his outfit only a few hours into the evening, only leaving him wearing a white linen collared lace-up shirt which sat quite snugly along his large shoulders. Sheathed and attached to his plain black pants was a cheap and flimsy plastic sword. His brown curls let loose with the odd strand sticking to the thin layer of sweat that had started to accumulate on his forehead, which he would try and prevent by periodically combing his fingers through his hair and pushing it back.

He rolled his eyes with a scoff, and stared down at you for a brief moment, either contemplating his life choices or taking it as an excuse to stare at you as he had been since the moment you arrived. A cheap sexy nun outfit, the sort you could find at Target or Spirit Halloween. You rolled a wheel on your Twitch stream the night before for your viewers to decide what your outfit should be and it ultimately ended up winning. Indifferent, you wore it as you looked good in it anyway. It wasn't anything special by any means but boy did he think it looked special on you.

"If I die from alcohol poisoning I'm blaming it on you," he smirked as he handed over his empty cup for you to refill with the bottle of Jim Beam which was making its way to becoming empty. Without trying to make a mess you refilled the cups, handing one back to the big guy who was still intently watching you, a drunken glaze over his eyes. As your arm extended to reach out to him, a group of streamers who had yet to head home barged past, haphazardly shoving you into Schlatt. The drinks quickly soaked into both of your outfits before the cups hit the floor, not able to hear their faint clatter over the blaring music and the distant chatter in the other room. "Jesus fucking Christ, watch where you're going!" Schlatt scorned the assholes who lacked any awareness to notice what had even happened. He looked down and let out an exasperated sigh at the rather noticeable wet patch that spanned most of his torso. His eyes drifted over to your white blouse which now, completely drenched, had made your cleavage very obvious. The alcohol in his system completely shed most of his shame and proper conduct which led to him unapologetically studying your chest.

"Sorry, I—" you began to speak, clasping your hands over your mouth in an elevated, drunken state of shock. "It's not your fault," he shook his head, "Are you okay?" He leaned in once more with a much softer tone, once again feeling his hot breath on the side of your neck caused goosebumps to cover your skin. You nodded timidly, looking at the parts of Schlatt's shirt that were now clinging to his skin making the outlines on his torso very apparent. "Come on, we'd better go and dry ourselves off," he drunkenly mumbled as his sober persona slipped momentarily. He briefly glared over towards the window which overlooked the lawn where the group of inconvenient and loud boys were now disturbing others in the backyard.