Dark Pick Up Lines Novels & Stories

No wonder the poor guy fails. Quietly, I wonder why my friends—many guys, in fact—think a girl appreciates fancy pickup lines. Or some smolder face. Or ridiculous, practiced moves designed to be charming. I prefer to avoid coming off like a dude with “mad game” and it pays off in spades, even without my trying.

Shuffling. Me(very pissed): Who the fuck is this?!... It better not be you silly teenagers prank calling or I swear to God I'll- **Shh, shh. Language, Sunshine.** Me: Pycho stalker? I gasped Stalker: Thats the name you've given me huh? Interesting. He chuckled seeming very amused. Me(very scared now but acting like I don't give a shit): What do you want? Stalker: Isn't it obvious? I want you, Sunshine.

“We could do that.” “I love it when they’re so confident.” I shook my head, taking a deep breath in a bid to regain my bearings. And to think that was the dumbest pick-up line I’d ever heard. He wiggled the five hundred dollar bill in front of my eyes. “Um, hello? I’m not playing.” “Fine,” I groaned, snatching the five hundred dollars from his hand. “I will bet five hundred dollars on not getting your disgusting cock anywhere near me tonight.”

I shot him a sideways smirk, letting a hint of disdain creep into my voice. His smile faltered, “I just thought you looked like you could use some company.” “Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like I’m doing just fine on my own. So why don’t you take your mediocre pick-up lines and save them for someone who’s interested?” I turned back to the bartender, signaling for my drink to be served faster.

Dante's lackeys joined in on the mockery instantly. "Where the hell did you find someone this pretty? More importantly, where did you get that money from?" "How thirsty are you to ask for the same woman for a whole week!?" "She looks so gorgeous, dang! Doesn't even seem like your typical wh*re, you know? Maybe she's really a victim of this jack*ss' scam! Do you know how many fell for swindlers and pick-up artists online!"

“I'm not the kind of man you imagined. I am not your happy ever after. I am a bad man with dark secrets. It's huge enough to destroy your existence. But you…” My voice trailed as I locked gaze with those mesmerizing Amber eyes that twinkled under the soft glow of the chandelier. I wanted to kiss them. To wipe the tears off and spray my seed all over her face until she gagged. “You are pure, innocent, fragile, full of life, so fucking young. You are brave, you dare to explore. That's the reason I call you little dove. One more step closer to me and you will be tainted by my darkness.” “All it takes is one taste for you to get obsessed. For you to get dangerously addicted. Before you know it,

he smiled, “I have missed you. Surprised to hear me say that right?” Indeed I was surprised, but I’m not letting him know that, “why would I be surprised? It’s the normal pick up line for guys like you.” “Guys like me, you use that a lot and there are no guys like me. Maybe when you stop comparing me to other guys, you will come to know how cool I can be.” “I don’t want to know how cool you can be, in fact, I don’t even want to know you at all.” “But that’s not possible, pigeon, in case you have forgotten, I am your genie and I am meant to be wherever you are. It’s the natural law for genies,” he winked.

I appreciated. "It's fine, beautiful. I don't mind bumping into you over and over again, I'll be here to catch you always," he winked. "Can I get your contact?" He smiled taking his phone out of his pocket and stretching it to me. I watched the man unable to say a word, what kind of a man is he? Bumps into a lady and at that moment ask for her number, classic gentleman. And fills her ears with crazy cliche pickup lines.

“You’re not any woman. I grabbed you because you’ve been in my head for the last damn month and it’s drivin’ me crazy. Who are you?” Macie snorted. “That is the worst pick up line I’ve ever heard.” Those blue, blue eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t a pick up line.” “Good thing, because it sure as hell isn’t working.” “Look. Let’s start over. I’m an artist. And I’d like—” “—to show me your etchings?” She snickered. “Har har. I really am an artist.” “Yeah? So was the last guy I was involved with. Been there, done that, have the tie-dyed T-shirt and the roach clip to prove it. Move along, Picasso.”

“Bug in my ear? Ew. No, it’s not a bug in my ear. It’s a questionable mate in my bed. So, tell me again and this time make me believe we’re actually mates and not your plan to screw over my pack for some hidden agenda.” “Babes, you had me at, ‘hey, stud want to play hide the pickle with me?’ Your sweet innocent smile and that smutty invitation had me ready, willing, and able. Gods, even now I think of the word pickle, and I just want to dive into you until we’re too exhausted to move.” “So you like me because I’m a slut.”