mellaia

note: this is unhinged 😭

Art Donaldson never really planned for the frat life, and he certainly didn’t expect to end up as the frat president of the house. The role usually belonged to guys like Patrick, and Art was supposed to be the one preparing for his career, but somehow he found himself at the top of the social ladder. He couldn’t deny it, though, that he liked the way people looked at him as he walked through the halls, and the ego boost helped his game on the court whenever he felt the pressure of going pro. The connections were useful for his future career, but the real benefit came from the way he could get whatever he wanted.

Being the president of the biggest frat house on campus meant he had access to things he shouldn’t touch, but he took them anyway because the rules didn’t seem to apply to him anymore. He spent his nights in the back room with a bag of white powder to take the edge off the stress, and he enjoyed the favors that came with his title, which meant the power to silence people who knew his bad habit. You were just another part of the arrangement, and he treated you like a prize he earned for being the best on the team. He didn’t care about the consequences as long as he had his spot at the top, while he used everyone around him to get what he needed, but that control didn’t last forever.

The reputation he built as the perfect athlete started to crack when those rumors about his behavior behind closed doors came out, and eventually, you’re not immune to hearing about the gossip. You didn’t want to believe the stories about him snorting lines in that frat house, but the details from the guys were too specific to ignore. This mess turned your relationship into something ugly, yet he kept acting like nothing changed despite the way you looked at him with doubt. It felt like you were just waiting for him to mess up again, and he didn’t seem to care that his secrets were getting out.

The doubt in your head only got worse whenever his frat is having a party, just like this day, where Art spent the entire night acting like you didn’t exist while he talked to other people but you. You finished a few too many drinks to deal with the cold shoulder he gave you and went upstairs to his bedroom since you couldn’t stand the noise of the party anymore. The door finally clicked open after an hour had passed, but Art walked inside without turning on the light, so he didn’t really notice you at his bed. He went straight for the dresser and opened the bottom drawer while ignoring your presence in the room.

His fingers grabbed a small plastic baggie from a small box, and he gripped it tightly in his palm. “Art,” you whispered, and your voice cracked. He jumped and turned with wide eyes while hiding his hand behind his back. “Jesus, you scared me,” he breathed and wiped sweat from his forehead. He looked toward the door and back at you before his jaw tightened. “What’s in your hand?” you asked and stood to get a better look. He didn’t answer right away, but his grip on the baggie didn’t loosen as he stared at you. Art shoved the baggie into his back pocket as he tried to hide the evidence, but you walked toward him until his hands held your waist.

He pulled you against his body, and his eyes darted around the room as if he could still escape the question. “It’s nothing,” he muttered while his palms felt irritating against your skin. You leaned close and watched him hold his breath. “Don’t lie to me when I saw exactly what you grabbed,” you whispered and reached toward his pocket. He blocked your arm and shook his head, but his grip tightened. “You’re just drunk and seeing things,” he lied and moved his face closer. You scoffed and shoved his chest because the gaslighting made you want to scream. “I’m not crazy, Art, and I know you’re doing that shit again,” you snapped and reached for his pants.

Art gripped your arms and walked you toward the mattress while shaking his head. “I told you I stopped doing that months ago,” he claimed as his fingers dug into your skin. You reached for his pocket, but he stepped into your space and forced you onto the bed. “Stop acting crazy,” he muttered while he tried to stare you down. You felt the alcohol hitting harder, and your mind went to the worst places since he kept lying to your face. “Maybe you’re cheating on me, and that’s why you’re acting like this,” you shouted while you shoved his shoulders away. He didn’t back up, and he just stood between your legs while he pinned your wrists down to keep you from reaching behind him.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he barked back because he’s doing drugs, sure, but he would never cheat. He leaned in closer until your faces were inches apart. “Let go of my hands, Art,” you snapped while you tried to twist your wrists out of his grip. He didn’t move away, but he leaned in and gave you a quick peck on the lips as he tried to soften his tone. “What’s got into your mind tonight, huh?” he murmured while his thumbs rubbed against your skin. He kept standing between your legs and acting like he was the one being patient with you. “Are you just upset because I didn’t give you enough attention downstairs?” he asked while he let out a short laugh.

You felt the heat rise in your chest, and you glared at him because the manipulation was too obvious. “Fucking junkie! You can’t even look at me without lying,” you spat while you kicked your foot hard against his leg. He didn’t flinch, but his eyes went cold as he loomed over you to keep you from standing up. “You’re acting like a brat because you’re drunk,” he responded while he kept you stuck on the edge of the bed. You leaned forward and bit down hard on the skin of his shoulder while he hissed from the surprise. “What was that for?” he grunted as he realized you weren’t going to play along with his games.

He sighed and shook his head while his grip on your wrists finally loosened. “Fine, fine. Sorry, baby,” he muttered before releasing you. You didn’t waste a second and reached behind him to snatch the baggie from his back pocket before he could stop you. You held the plastic between your faces to stare at the powder. “You really thought you could lie to me like I’m stupid?” You asked while watching his eyes follow your hand. Art reached out to grab it, but you wiggled the baggie just out of his reach while a smug look stayed on your face. “It’s not a toy, so don’t play with it,” he snapped while his jaw tightened.

You kept moving it back and forth in front of his nose, but he didn’t move from between your legs. “I’m just stressed out, okay?” he argued while he tried to sound like the victim. He held his hand out flat and waited for you to drop the drugs into his palm. “Give it back to me right now,” he ordered as he leaned in closer to your face. “You’re such a pathetic loser,” you muttered and slid the baggie through your collar, then tucked it under the cup of your bra. Art watched the plastic disappear against your skin, and his hands immediately reached for the hem of your top. “Don’t fuck around with me because it’s not funny anymore,” he growled while his fingers gripped the fabric.

He didn’t wait for an answer and yanked the top over your head until it was off. You sat in your bra while he stared at the spot where the drugs were hidden, but he didn’t back away from his spot between your legs. “Hand it over,” he snapped, and his hand slid under your bra to find the baggie. Art felt the plastic baggie against the skin of your breast, and he didn’t pull his hand out after he found what he wanted. He squeezed your chest while using the plastic to rub your nipple, and he watched your reaction with a dark look in his eyes. “You’re such a prick,” you hissed while you tried to push his arm away, but he just kneaded your flesh with his palm.

The plastic crinkled against your skin while his fingers worked the baggie over your nipple. “I could just snort a line right off your tits and forget about the party downstairs,” he muttered while he leaned in to bite your neck. You breathed shakily as the scraping sensations messed with your head. “You like how this feels, mhm?” he whispered while he kept rubbing the baggie against you. “You’re an arrogant asshole, Art,” you hissed while you swung your hand and slapped his cheek hard. He didn’t even flinch, but he let out a rough laugh while he reached around your back with his free hand. “Keep hitting me and see what happens,” he muttered while his fingers unhooked your bra.

He pulled the fabric away from your chest, but he never removed his palm, and the baggie was still between your breast and his skin. One strap fell to your arm because he wouldn’t move his hand to let the bra fall completely. “You like playing these games, huh?” he asked while he watched your breath hitch. You hated how much he was being a dick, but your cunt was already soaking wet for him. “I hate you so much,” you whispered while you looked at the mark your hand left on his face. “I fucking hate when you do this shit, Art,” you snapped while he finally moved his hand from your chest. He gripped the baggie before shoving it into his pocket and dropped to his knees between your thighs.

“It’s not like I’m a junkie or something,” he muttered while looking up with tired eyes. “I only do it occasionally to take the edge off,” he adds and shakes your head because you weren’t buying his excuses. “You’re acting like a total idiot, and you’re going to end up dead if you don’t stop,” you said while you leaned down closer to his face and you grabbed his jaw to make him look at you. Art didn’t say anything at first, but his hands traveled to the waistband of your bottoms. He hooked his thumbs into the fabric and tugged your panties, but you slapped his hands before he could undress you. “I know it’s bad and I’m sorry, okay?” he whispered as he stroked your hip.

“It just helps me relax. You know how stressed I’ve been lately,” he murmured while his fingers grazed your skin. You swung your hand and slapped his face again, but he just let out a chuckle while he looked at you. “You like hitting me, don’t you?” he provoked while he gripped your waist and leaned his forehead against your stomach. “Because I fucking hate you,” you muttered while you hit his shoulder with your fist. Art huffed and leaned forward to bite your stomach before his tongue swiped over the skin. “I wonder how it feels to do a line right off your body,” he whispered, and his breath fanned against your stomach.

You didn’t say a word, but hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your bottoms and your panties to push them down. You raised your hips off the edge of the bed a little so he could slide them past your ass, and Art immediately grabbed the fabric to take over. “I bet you’d make a perfect table,” he teased while he yanked the clothing down past your thighs. Art tossed your clothes across the room after he pulled them off your feet and gripped your knees to pry your legs wider. He stared down at your bare cunt, and his thumbs rubbed your inner thighs. “You’re so fucking pretty,” he muttered while his gaze was fixed on your folds.

He reached into his pocket for the baggie again, and he looked up at you with a grin. “Can I please just do one line right here on your pussy?” he asked while his fingers toyed with the plastic. Your cunt pulsed at the thought of the drugs against your clit, but you tried to act like he was being crazy. “You’re out of your mind,” you whispered before you watched him lean forward between your knees. “Just one, baby,” he coaxed while he pressed his lips to your inner thigh. “This is a one-time thing, Art,” you muttered and spread your legs wider. He looked up, and a grin broke across his face. Then he scrambled to his feet.

“Just move to the middle of the bed,” he ordered while he started fiddling with the seal of the baggie. You scooted back and lay against his pillows before Art kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the mattress. He crawled between your thighs and used his free hand to shove your knees apart. “You’re going to love this,” he whispered while he lowered his head and gave your clit a few licks. “Ngh- just do it,” you breathed, and your fingers traced the pattern on the sheets. Art reached into the baggie and pinched the white powder, then rubbed it against your slit. He leaned down and snorted the line off your skin, and some powder stuck to your wetness.

“Fuck you’re so soaked,” he grunted and used his tongue to clean the coke from your folds. You gasped, and your hips jerked against the bed because your skin started to feel numb where he touched you. “It feels weird,” you whimpered and watched him look back up with wide and hungry eyes. Art reached into the baggie and pinched more white powder, then sprinkled it over your clit and mound. You let out a short breath while you watched him ignore your earlier deal, and you tried to kick him off, but he gripped your ankles to pin you down. “Stop moving, or you’re going to make a mess of everything,” he warned while he shook his head at you.

You tried to shove his shoulder with your foot, and you glared at him while your body tensed up on the pillows. “I said only one line, and you’re overdoing it, Art,” you snapped while you tried to pull your legs back. “Come on, just let me eat your pussy while I finish the rest,” he coaxed while he looked up at you with a grin. He didn’t wait for you to agree and lowered his face between your thighs until his nose pressed against your clit. You felt his lips against your hole, and he started licking you while he snorted the powder. “Nnngh, Art,” you moaned while your head fell back and you felt his tongue working deep inside your wetness. Art grunted against your folds before his hands squeezed your thighs.

Art kept his face buried in your heat, and he thrust his tongue deep inside your hole while he continued to eat your pussy. His nose rubbed against your clit with every lick as he snorted the remaining powder. “Oh god,” you gasped while you gripped the hair at the back of his head. He grunted against your wetness, but he didn’t pull back to say anything while he focused on your cunt. Art looked up with blown pupils, and he went right back to devouring you while his tongue worked inside you. “M-more,” you whined while tilting your hips to meet his face. Art pulled away from your entrance and shoved two fingers inside your soaking cunt.

He pumped his hand while sucking your clit as messy moans filled the room. “Art… plea-” you cried out while you arched your back against the bed. A loud knock hit the door, and someone shouted for him from the hallway. “Yo Art, you in there?” the guy yelled while the handle rattled. Art pulled back with a frustrated look to glare toward the door. “Fuck off and go find another room,” he shouted while his fingers were still buried inside you. He realized he never locked the door because his original agenda was to get his baggie. “Shit, I forgot the door,” he muttered while he pulled his hand out of your wetness.

You watched him pull away from your thighs, and you glared at him while he climbed off the mattress. “What the fuck, Art?” you grumbled as you adjusted your position. He stood and checked the hallway before looking back. “Do you want everyone at the party to walk in and see you naked?” he asked while gesturing toward your open legs. The thought bothered you, and you scrambled under the covers to hide your body. Art walked over to the door, and he finally turned the lock before he turned back around to face you. “Maybe if you weren’t so high, you would’ve remembered to do that before you started putting drugs on my cunt,” you teased while you watched him walk back toward the bed.

“There’s still a little bit left in the bag,” Art muttered while he looked back at the spot on the bed where he left the powder. He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it while he walked back toward you. You watched him struggle with the button of his pants as he undid them along with his boxers, while his movements looked a bit clumsy from being high. “No more Art,” you grumbled while tugging the covers against your chest. He stared with wide pupils before sitting on the edge of the mattress while his cock swung free. “Please?” he whispered while he reached out to tug at the edge of your blanket.

He crawled under the covers and hovered between your thighs while the blanket fell over you. You didn’t even notice him grab the baggie from the sheets because he moved so fast to get on top of you. His cock rubbed your stomach as he waited between your legs, but he didn’t try to put it inside you yet. “Just last time? Please? You’re still going to let me do it there, right?” he asked while staring at your breasts with desperate eyes. You gripped the pillows and looked up as he breathed over your face. “I thought you were finished after my cunt,” you breathed while you could feel your cunt pulsing from the thought of Art wanting it this much.

Art grunted and shook his head before bringing the baggie toward your chest. “Not until I use what’s in here,” he muttered while he looked at the powder. He lowered his head, and he took your nipple into his mouth to suck it. Art shoved his hips up to rub his cock against your stomach. “Promise I’ll be good,” he whispered after pulling back to look at you. You felt his cock move against you while he licked your nipple. “Baby…” he groaned while he held the baggie over your tits. You gripped the pillows, and you watched him beg while he looked at your chest. “Just let me do it here,” he muttered while rubbing himself against you again.

He shoved his hips up to rub his cock against your stomach as you grabbed his jaw. You held his face tightly while he stared at your breasts. “Fine, but this is the last fucking time I’m doing this shit with you,” you snapped as he tried to nuzzle into your palm. You watched him lean into your hand, but you didn’t let go of his face. “If I see you with coke again or you even ask me for this, then I’m reporting your ass to the administration, and you’re off the tennis team and out of this house,” you threatened while he let out a noncommittal grunt. You knew he wasn’t being sincere by the way he kept moving his hips, but you squeezed his jaw even harder until he had to look at you.

“Do you fucking understand me?” you asked while he groaned at the pressure. Art let out a ragged breath as his cock ground against your belly, and he stared at you while his breathing hitched from the way you held him. “Yeah, I got it,” he muttered while he looked back at the powder in the baggie. You dug your fingers into his jaw, and you squeezed even harder as his answer sounded way too dismissive. “I said, do you fucking understand me?” you growled while you forced his head back. Art winced at your grip, and he stared at you with wide pupils while he tried to nuzzle into your palm. “Please, I do, okay?” he rasped as he looked completely desperate to get what he wanted.

You released his face after feeling satisfied, but you watched him while he emptied the baggie onto your chest. “You’re such a needy prick,” you mocked while you watched him tap the plastic to get every bit of powder out. His eyes looked amazing despite being high, and you liked the way he looked under the blankets with you. Art grabbed your knees to push your legs wide apart and guided his cock against your cunt. “Ngh, I need you,” he groaned while he started sliding into you. Art lowered his head, and he nuzzled against your chest to sniff the coke while thrusting. You let out a shaky breath as he buried the whole length of his cock inside your cunt.

“Mmn- you better p-pamper me after this,” you moaned while you tried to grind up against him. Art gripped your legs to keep you in place while continuing to push his cock inside. “Yeah? What do you want?” he grunted as he nosed at the powder on your tits. You gripped the blankets as his cock stretched your walls. “You’re t-taking me out and buying me whatever I want- ahhnn,” you gasped, and he thrust slowly to make sure you feel every inch. Art let out a low curse as he nuzzled your chest again to get another hit of the powder. “Hngh, I’ll buy you the whole world if you just keep taking it like this,” he muttered while his cock slid all the way in again.

You clenched around his cock again, and you slapped his face to get him moving. “I hate you- mmn, just move already,” you snapped as you glared at him for a few seconds, and you tried to force a reaction. You laughed mockingly because he seemed close to coming, but he only glared back. “You’re just talk and no action- ahhn,” you goaded while you felt him throb inside your cunt once more. Art groaned deeply and hooked your legs over his shoulders after he rose to his knees. “Stop clenching on purpose, and I might actually give you what you want,” he grunted as he started to thrust into you with a rougher pace.

You gasped when the entire length of his cock was buried deep inside you. “Better- hahh, much better,” you whispered while you watched his face and felt him fill you up with thrust. Art grabbed your calves to hold you in place, and he started moving much faster while he looked right at you. The speed of his thrusts made your head toss from side to side against the mattress with a needy whine. “Your cunt is so addicting- mmf, I can’t stop,” he muttered while he couldn’t look away from your face. You felt heat spread over your face from his words, and you quickly moved your arms to cover your eyes.

“Don’t say that- hah, it’s embarrassing,” you whispered as you hid behind your forearms because his praise caught you off guard. Art grunted roughly, and he held your legs tightly while thrusting deeper. “It’s the truth- hngh, you know what you do to me,” he rasped while the sound of skin slapping filled the room. Art leaned forward to kiss your calf and nuzzled your leg while his hips kept moving faster against yours. You couldn’t help but squeeze his cock as he throbbed inside you. Your lips parted wide while the breath caught in your throat, and you turned your head to bury your face in the pillows. The muffled music from the party below came through the floor, but the slick sounds from your pussy every time he thrust were much louder to your ears.

You both heard footsteps passing by in the hallway, and you knew the guests could hear every moan. Art didn’t slow down at all, and he gripped your legs even harder while he focused on burying himself deep inside your body. You reached between your legs and rubbed your clit while he kept thrusting into you. “I’m wide open for you, and you snorted coke off me- hngh, but I can’t even get a k-kiss?” you complained as you glared up at him through your tears. Art chuckled while watching your fingers move against your folds. “Maybe you’re just too much fun to watch like this- mmf,” he replied while he throbbed inside your cunt because the sight of you touching yourself made him move much faster.

You let out a broken moan, and you worked your clit faster, but he suddenly pulled back until the tip of his cock was almost out. Art paused to watch your cunt clench before burying himself all the way back inside. “You’re g-going to make me finish- fuck,” he rasped as he watched the way you were pleasuring yourself. Art kept thrusting deeply and pulling out until only the tip of his cock remained inside your cunt before he repeated the same motion. You could hear someone speaking right outside in the hallway while your clit pulsed under your busy fingers. You looked toward the door at the sound of the voices, but Art grabbed your chin to force your attention back at him.

He tried to ignore the loud noise coming from the rest of the frat house and the fact that both of you had been inside this room for a long time now. His fingers dug harder into the flesh of your thigh, and he squeezed your leg before his eyes closed from the pleasure his cock felt around your cunt. You wrapped your arms around him and tangled your fingers in his hair. One hand scratched his back while he leaned in to brush his lips against yours, but struggled to kiss you properly because he labored for breath. His breathing turned ragged while he felt the pressure building in his stomach, and his hips started to shake as he pushed himself deep into your cunt.

“Haaah- fuck, just cum inside me,” you begged while you pulled him closer to your chest. Art grunted before grabbing your wrist to pull your arm from his neck. He intertwined his fingers with yours, and he pinned your hand to the mattress beside your head while his other hand gripped the sheets tight. “Please... oh god, please,” he choked out while his cock throbbed and he finally came deep inside you. Art pulled his face away from yours, and he kept thrusting deep into your cunt as he continued to cum. “Mnh-hngh... I’m close too, Art,” you gasped while you looked up at him. “Yeah? You’re gonna come for me?” he rasped while his cock kept sliding slowly in and out of you.

You nodded as your mouth parted, but the moan was stuck behind your throat. He grabbed your other hand that was still holding onto him and intertwined his fingers to pin it down in the sheets. Art watched your face carefully while his cock moved at a slow pace, and he squeezed your hands tightly. Your cunt tightened, and you finally came around his cock while he kept thrusting deep to make sure you were finished. “Oh god- Art-” you cried out while your toes curled and your eyes rolled back in your head. Art watched your body shake as you peaked, and he didn’t stop moving until your pussy stopped clamping around him.

He eventually rose to his knees while he let go of your hands, but he didn’t pull out of you yet. “Haaah... hahh... we gotta go back down to the party,” he panted while wiping sweat from his forehead. You sighed breathily as you looked at him through your lashes. “So you’re finally gonna stop ignoring me?” you asked while you watched him scoff. He pulled his cock away from your pussy, and he squeezed your thigh. “I mean... we can’t exactly sleep right now with how loud it is down there,” he muttered while the music from downstairs thudded through the floor. “God, I fucking hate you and your stupid frat ass,” you groaned while you were still sprawled out on his bed and felt completely spent.

Art just shushed you while he waved a hand and walked toward his dresser to hunt for some tissue. He rummaged through the top drawers, but he didn’t seem to find what he needed. “Just use the shirt,” you suggested as you watched him toss a few items aside. He looked back at you with a confused frown. “What shirt?” he asked while he kept searching the messy surface. You let out an annoyed huff while you watched him struggle. “The shirt, Art! You know... the one we always use,” you reminded him while you waited for him to finally remember where he kept it. “You mean that nasty shirt?” Art asked while he finally pulled the fabric from the back of a drawer.

You nodded and let out a low groan because it felt pretty embarrassing that you two actually kept a specific shirt for this. He didn’t say anything else as he walked back to the bed and climbed in between your legs. “Open up,” he muttered while he gripped the fabric in one hand. You open your legs wider and watch him when he starts to clean carefully the mess in your cunt. Art used the shirt to wipe away the white powder that stuck to your sweaty skin after wiping the cum out of you. He didn’t look tired at all because he was still riding the high from the coke. “Are you still gonna drink when we go back downstairs?” you asked while you watched him finish with your body.

He just shrugged his shoulders as he started cleaning the mess off his own cock. “I don’t know yet,” he muttered, and he tossed the shirt toward the corner of the room after he got off the bed just to search for something. “Want me to dress you up?” Art asked while he looked at you, and he saw that you gave him a small nod. He reached down to grab your clothes from the floor before he sat on the edge of the mattress again. You stood up from the bed to wait in front of him while he held out your panties. You stepped into the leg holes one by one before he pulled the fabric up until it was covering your cunt. “You can just eat some ice cream once we’re down there,” he suggested while he looked up at you.

“Just sit beside me while I finish my drinks,” he added while he picked up your bottoms and waited for you to step into them. “Do you guys even have my favorite ice cream in that fridge?” you asked while you watched him hold open your bottoms for you. Art hummed as he watched you step into the fabric, and he pulled the material up until it was sitting perfectly in place. You looked down at him while he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’re still very naked, Art,” you pointed out while you waited for him to get up. He let out a dry huff as he finally reached for his boxers. “That’s because I’m putting you first,” he replied, and he stood up to start dressing himself.

Art put on his boxers while you hooked your bra in place as you stood in front of each other. “So do I look like I’ve been railed?” you asked while you watched him grab his jeans. Art let out a genuine laugh while he stepped into his pants, and he looked at you from top to bottom. “Trust me... those guys downstairs don’t give a fuck,” he replied as he finished closing them. You rolled your eyes while you reached for your top and put it on your body. “Well, I do!” you snapped while you adjusted the fabric to make sure everything was hidden.

He pulled his shirt over his head, and he let out a sigh while he watched you worry about how you looked. “I swear you still look beautiful even if they can tell I just fucked you,” he said before he grabbed a baseball cap from his desk. You shook your head as you tried to fix your hair. “You’re really not helping, Art,” you muttered while he put the cap on backward. He stepped back in front of you, and he held your waist while he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Don’t worry about it because you’re with me and nobody’s gonna say a word to my girl,” he promised while he gave you a wink.

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⠀⠀⠀ twenty-twenty-six © addie / musingsofheaven.

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