I Read The Edgy!karl, Ive Just Finished Reading The Alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT

I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩

*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟

± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader

± word count: ~3300

± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation

song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi

George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.

While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.

Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.

A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.

You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.

You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.

The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.

The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.

At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.

You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.

He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.

His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.

His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.

“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.

His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know…” he trailed off, making you giggle.

Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”

He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”

Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.

You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.

George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.

You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”

You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.

You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.

He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”

And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?

You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.

George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”

“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.

You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.

You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.

You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.

The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”

You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.

You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.

Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.

He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.

“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.

He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.

As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.

When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.

All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.

Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.

If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.

As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.

His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.

You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.

He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.

One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.

Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.

He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.

At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.

The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.

“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.

George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.

Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”

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Rainy cuddles~ Quackity

Pairing: Quackity x gn!reader

Type: fluff

Cw: use of God’s name (not sure if it needs to be here, but just in case ofc), just Quackity being a simp

Keep reading

✨for sleepy sluts✨

You wake me up with your dick inside of me, gently pushing in my needy pussy trying not to wake me up. Once you realize that I’m awake, you start getting more rough, pounding me into the mattress. You don’t allow me the time to fully comprehend what’s happening but I don’t really care. It feels too good to care. I bite my pillow, trying not to be loud and wake the neighbors, but I just can’t help the moans that escape. I feel so full yet so groggy.

“Shhh doll, just let me use you, yeah? Be a good fleshlight for me. You always make such pretty sounds when I play with you at night. And you never even know I’m there. Such a good little cocksleeve for me.” You sound so breathless. I start to come to my senses after a few seconds of processing that. How long have you been fucking me? And you’ve been doing this for… how long? But all those dumb little thoughts get washed away when you reach down and start playing with my already swollen clit.

“Cum for me princess. Cum right fucking now.” You growl in my ear. You fuck into me like an animal and I just can’t take it anymore. I explode all over your dick as you mutter praise under your breath.

“Aww sweetheart you’re doing so great. But I’m not done with you yet darling. Go on back to sleep now and let me have my fun.” I barely hear the last part of your sentence as I’m practically already back asleep. Just the distant feeling of you softly thrusting back into me.

I gen want Dream to call me a stupid whore, taking me from behind and yanking my hair so roughly, a hand around my throat. making me cry from his insults ugh please degrade me

but i also just want to hold him close, have him praise me about how good I am for him, how pretty i look under him as he holds my hand whole he fucks me so slowly its agony.

Lowkey highkey in the mood for someone to just casually play with my pussy while we're watching tv or something. Trace the slit, push my legs apart so you have better access, let your fingers explore and feel around. Spread my wetness all over my lips, rub my clit, dip a finger or two inside. Maybe let me guide your hand to let you know what feels good. No need to rush anything, or make me come right away, just soft touches and exploring.

Hey! I am a request from you

Can you do reader and dream (just two) are playing true or dare with app and then the app keep giving those spicy dares and everything is getting out of the hand!

Btw i love your work! Keep it up!

Thank you! This was quite an interesting and fun submission to write! I changed the 'app' to a card game if you don't mind :) I do hope you enjoy this just as much as I enjoyed writing it! Much love :)

To be completely and utterly honest, Dream wasn’t sure how he ended up in this hot mess with him pinning you to the ground by your wrists. He could recall only a few hours before how you lazily walked into his room and collapsed onto his bed as he sat at his desk editing next week’s Manhunt video. 

The gut wrenching groan is what tore his focus away from his monitor to you. 

You, who was face first in his bed in a slouched position.

He could only bite back a grin as his brows tied together both amused and concerned.

“What’s wrong?” He asks you, turning back to his monitor to save his passed two hours of editing into a file.

“I’m so fucking bored.” You elongate the ‘o’ and ‘r’ in your speech, yet it was muffled since your face was shoved into Dream’s mattress.

With Sapnap gone to film for Quackity’s new “Discord’s Got Talent!” out of state, you had no gaming buddy. Dream was usually locked up in his room either editing, watching movies, working, sleeping, or on endless of hourful calls with George. He would leave his room occasionally to cook, clean, or check on patches.

On days like these, when it was just Dream and you, it tended to be quiet and empty. With the male being so caught up with work and sleep he didn’t really leave his room all that much. Yet now, he was out, and ready to talk, knowing that leaving you on your own would only be detrimental to your boredom and his private time.

Then again, the more Dream thought about you, he realized how he doesn’t know much about you besides what you’ve openly shared both in discord calls and streams. 

He gets out of his chair and opens his room door, walks over to the coat rack against the wall of the front door, and gives you a look. You peek out into the living room and see him waiting for you.

“wanna grab some snacks and watch a movie?”

The cart was filled with various chips and dips. Dream had placed another case of soda and you tossed in a bottle of wine and rum. Dream noticed this and scoffs.

“You can’t drink boredom away, Y/n.” He says rolling the cart down the toys and games aisle.

“Is that what you think? Well, what do the people at Bars and Clubs do then?” You ask him, scanning the shelves of Lego box sets and stuffed animals that now transitioned to boardgames and card games.

“To be fair, that’s a different context. They’re usually there drinking to have fun or–” 

“Hey! Look at this! A card game of Truth or Dare!”  You snatch the box off the shelf and take a look at the covering. “It’s made by the ‘Cards Against Humanity’ people as well.”

“There’s no shot I’m playing a kids game.” Although Dream tried to stay true to his statement he couldn’t seem to have stop you from taking the game to the register and buying it yourself.

You hopped in the car with a proud expression and the male just rolled his eyes.

It was about 10:47pm, the night was growing cold and the third movie of tonight was starting to become boring yet again. You and Dream had chowed down on majority of the snacks and were now washing the salty savory flavors with sweet strong cocktails and drinks. You let out a groan when one of the main characters in the film died, grabbing the remote and shutting off the television made Dream whine. 

“Hey! Why’d you do that? She was just about to confess her love for him!” Dream collapses into the couch with a defeated look. 

“The movie was getting shitty anyways, let’s do something else!” You take a swig from the remains of your drinks and set it on the table.

“Well, what do you have in mind?” Dream inquiries as his hooded eyes watch your figure jump out of the sofa and to your bedroom. After a couple of seconds, you come out with the packaged box.

Dream knew instantly what you were referring to, the moment you skipped out of your bedroom with the miniature box in hand, you set it on the table and began to set up the game. The male rolls his eyes, taking another sip of the cocktail concoction he sets it beside him and watches you take the first card from the Truth pile.

You read the following, “Name three people you’d kiss, marry, and kill.” You read the bottom of the card, “If the player answers truthfully they will receive 10 points, the player with the highest points wins.” 

“So does that mean all cards are worth 10 points or do they increase with every truth or dare chosen?” Dreams questions, eyes gazing upon the multicoloured stack of cards. 

You flash him a geekish smile and shrug, “Guess you’ll have to play and find out.”

You got him there. He had to play now. Dream wasn’t a quitter. 

“Hmm, give me three names.” You instructed.

Dream shrugged, “Just use the rest of the Dream Team members, George, Sapnap…” His eyes follow up your body and then meet your dawned eyes. “And Me.”

The way his voice grew softer made you visibly stur in your seat, Dream caught the motion but didn’t think much of it. Perhaps sitting on the carpet was uncomfortable, but both of you were lazy so there was no point in suggesting to get up onto the sofas.

“Then I suppose I’d marry George, unfortunately, kill Sapnap and…” Dream notices the way your turn away from him and fidget with the corner of the card. “Kiss you.” You admit as if it were a sin. The tension in the room falters for a moment but both of you couldn’t decipher if it was because of the drinks or…

“Wow, I’m flattered.” The sage eyed male smirks, you shove the two piles of cards over to him. 

“Truth or Dare, nimrod.” You asserted, Dream picked up a Dare card.

“Ooh, someone’s feeling risky.”

“It’s my middle name.”

“Just read the Dare.”

Dream’s eyes scrutinized the words on the card, “Show the 20th photo in your camera roll. No cheating.” He stated before tossing the card on his lap. “This is so stupi–”

“How many points is it worth?” You queried with curiosity.

“If the player completes the Dare they will receive 15 points, the player with the highest points wins.” Dream remarked.

“Are you fucking kidding me? 15?! That’s so unfair!” You whine, leaning back letting your hands holding you up.

“To be fair, I did choose from the Dare pile, naturally it would have to hold higher points.” He says, going over to grab his phone and unlock it.

“Yeah but I literally had to admit who I would kiss, marry and kill and all you have to do is show me a photo from your camera roll. It could be a fuckin DNF fanart.” Your arguments were overshadowed by Dream’s giggle as he aimlessly scrolled up to find the twentieth photo in his gallery. The moment he found it, his smile dropped.

“Uh…” He sputtered out an awkward cough before scrolling past the image.

“Hey! Hey wait! It’s supposed to be the 20th photo asshole!” You practically pounce onto him to get a glance at his phone screen.

“I can’t show it!” He admonished trying to scoot away from you and keep his screen facing himself.

Your face scrunches together, perplexed and tyrannical. “What? Just show me the photo! There’s no one else here. It’s just me.” Your attempt to persuade him falls flat on the ground when he rejects your offer again.

“No, Y/n you don’t understand it’s not…I can’t.” Dream’s austere tone followed by a cracking beam had you huff out and crawl over to him.

“It can’t be that bad Dream, would you rather have 15 points or none at all?”

He pondered carefully through your question, Dream was competitive as is, but with the photo in his hand and you in front of him. He couldn’t bare having it exposed. Dream looks back at his phone, and then at you, and then back at the card.

He places the card at the bottom of the pile.

“Boo! Boo!” You yammered out, giving him two thumbs down. “Pussy!” a cackle leaves your mouth when you go to grab a Dare card. You read the following, “Take off your shirt.” 

Dream laughs, a little too hard, and ended up choking on his spit. “You–You have to what?!” He coughs a couple of times.

“If the player completes the dare, they will receive 15 points. WHAT?!” You throw the card on the ground and Dream can’t help but let out a weak wheeze.

“No! No, you have to do it! You’d be a hypocrite if you didn’t do the dare and then still proceed to call me a fuckin pussy you bitch!” Dream yells through heavy laughs.

“15 fucking points is such a scam. What if I didn’t have a bra underneath?” You drag your fingers under the hem of your shirt. Dream’s laughter dies down as he watches you closesly.

“Well, do you have a bra on?” He pried in a murmured tone. 

His question came to be returned when you effortlessly slipped off your top. The male didn’t mean to gawk at your barely nude body, but being the male he was, he couldn’t help but take in a beautiful woman when given the opportunity. You flung your shirt at his face when you realized he was staring at anything but your eyes.

“Take a picture while you’re at it, bozo.” You grunt out, plopping back on the ground and putting the card beside you.

Dream places your shirt on the sofa. “Guess that means you have 25 points.”

“And you have 0.”

Dream arches a brow. “I think I can beat you in this game.”

“Oh yeah? I’d like to see your timid ass try.” You challenged.

It was game on.

The next card Dream chose was a Dare, when his eyes scanned the card, his entire confident persona diluted in a millisecond. 

“What’s wrong? You scared to do this Dare as well?” Your lips tug into a playful simper watching his eyes nervously trail back to you.

“Who made this game again?” He simply asked.

You grab the box and look for the company label. “Ah, the people who created Cards Against Humanity…oh there’s another company as well.”

“Who?”

“PinkCherry.”

“PinkCherry as in…” he stammers over his words.

You look over to him, realization hitting you harder than it should’ve.

“A–As in the…sex…store.” You both say in unison looking over at each other.

Because of sheer awkwardness, you smiled and let out an uneasy giggle. “Well shit.”

“Yeah, shit.” Dream says flipping his card so you could read it.

Give the other player a hickey on any desired spot. If the player completes the Dare they will receive 20 points.

“Ain’t no fucking way.” You divulged as your eyes grew wide rereading each word making sure you didn’t misread the dare. Dream wipes his face, he knew there was no way you’d allow him to do such a thing. He couldn’t even bring himself to ask you.

“I’ll just pick a different card–” He goes to put the card at the bottom of the pile but you grab his wrist out of instinct.

“No!” You blurt out before your words could process in your mind.

Dream looks at you confused, when your eyes flicker from his large hand to his bewildered olive eyes he reads your expression like an open book.

“I mean…a dare’s a dare, right?” You suggested in a soft tone, letting go of his wrist and placing your hands on your lap.  “It would be okay if I consented…right?”

Dream wasn’t sure if he was drunk off the drinks, are you really saying what he’s hearing right now?

Your body language shifted to a more, curious and needy stance. Dream couldn’t deny that he felt the air in the room switch from two best friends drinking and playing a shitty boardgame from their local walmart to  two flustered and vehmented people ready to rip each other from their clothes and devour one another to the very last bite.

Or maybe it was the Orlando heat getting to his head.

He couldn’t shy away from the undeniable truth that he really wanted to give you that hickey.

Maybe if he did a good job, you would let him kiss you.

“Are you sure? I don’t, I mean, I hope the game isn’t, or I’m in anyway y’know pressuring you to do anything.” He was tongue tied over his own scrambling thoughts and words.

There was a moment of silence before you crawl over to him, setting both sides on either of his hips, stradling him on the carpeted floors. You tuck a few strands of Dream’s dirty blonde hair before leaning over lips centimeters away from his right ear. 

“20 points is 20 points. You’d be 5 points away from me. Doesn’t that sound good?” Your voice melted his brain, he’s never heard such a slurred tone used by you, and it made him shiver. Dream lifts one hand to push back some of your hair to gain more access to what he’s about to do.

He inches closer to your neck and presses a soft kiss against it.

He continues to kiss along your neck until he felt you tense in a certain area.

Dream bites back a snarky smirk, Jackpot. He thinks to himself before lapping his warm tongue over your cold neck. He kisses upon it a bit more aggressively, now using his teeth to pinch some skin between his mouth, he nibbles down and feels your breathing pattern falter. He bites down a bit harder, sucking the supples of flesh and lapping his tongue over the bite mark once more. His hot breaths with each exhale that left his mouth fanned over your neck. He knew he was doing well when he felt your hips grind against him a little, and your hands grip his shoulders tightly.

You were holding back a moan, a whimper, a groan, something.

However, Dream wanted to hear you loud and clear, his hands that gripped your waist grew tighter to the point where his fingers dug into your curves.

You inhale sharply to which Dream hummed against your neck clearly satisfied.

When he pulls away after a few more seconds of kissing, he reassuringly rubs your sides and looks at your neck. There was painted a rather large, dark purple bruise. His teeth marks were apparent, and so was the specific area he chose to suck on for the past minute or two.

“How’s it look?” You ask him, tilting your head a bit more into the fluorescent lights.

“Like a vampire just mauled you.” Dream responds with a proud laugh.  “That’s 20 points for me!”

You get off of him and sit back at your spot, pulling a Dare card. You couldn’t contain the sudden excitement and arousal that pooled between your legs.

“Kiss the other player for a minute, if the player completes the dare they will receive 20 points.” You read outloud, Dream swallows hard at the look you gave him. 

You both were able to read each other perfectly.

You both wanted this.

And for a long while.

You both don’t waste any time colliding into a heated makeout session. Dream’s hands find their way around your waist and your fingers pull him by his t-shirt. The moment your lips intertwined there was that obvious taste of the cola and alcohol, there was also a hint of that watermelon flavored gum Dream was chewing on earlier today. 

Your lips were soft against his, he loved every moment of the way you two moved in sync, knowing the next part and playing well. He lets out a groan when he felt you pull him against your body. Before he could comprehend just how erotic this was getting, you pulled away.

A string of saliva was still attached to the bottom of both your lips and your hazy eyes couldn’t seem to tear away.

“A minute’s up, Clay.” You reminded him, letting go of his now wrinkly shirt.

Dream curses under his breath and wastes no time grabbing another card and reading it.

“Stimulate two parts of the other player’s body at once. Use your hands on one part and your lips on another. If the player completes the dare, they will receive 30 points.” Dream announces whilst trying to regain his composure, he looks over to you, watching how you ran a hand through your hair, leaning back, almost taunting him.

“30 points?” You ask him, knowing you heard him loud and clear.

“If…If I do this dare…then I’m ahead in the game.” Dream places the card down, adjusting his sweatpants. He snaps his head back at you. “Right?”

You shrug, looking over at the deck of cards that were piled on the coffee table beside you. “To be fair, we didn’t really say if someone wins or not but yeah you’d essentially–”

That was enough for Dream to hear before he practically pounced on you like a thrilled puppy. He had you pinned underneath him, all of his body weight above you, Dream could see how caught off guard you were with his actions, but when he felt your cool hands trail under his shirt, and lightly trace his abs, he felt his eyes flutter. 

Your touch was what he was addicted to.

Dream looks down at you. Your expression was deemed impatient and jeerful, “Come on, baby, don’t be a pussy. A dare is a dare.”

Dream felt this overwhelming sense of arousal and desire take over him. He knew he wanted to ruin you. And so he did.

You were writhing against Dream’s tongue as he licked away at your cunt whilst using a free hand to massage your breasts and occasionally pinch your nipples, twisting it a bit to get the right reactions out of you. His mouth worked aimlessly, he had you coming to your second orgasm, and you couldn’t help but moan out in pure bliss. 

“Fuck, Fuck, yes, please just like that Dream!” He hears you whimper out as he begins to focus on stimulating your clit.

He moans against you, making sure you knew he was enjoying this just as much as you were. Dream’s hands travel up to your throat. He wraps his vast veiny hand around your neck and squeezes at the areas that gave you an ecstatic high feeling.

“Dre–Dream!” You choke out, grinding against his lips.

His other hand is still playing with your tits, and he’s practically tongue fucking you at this point. Dream could feel your thighs tremble the moment your hips lifted off the surface of the ground.

“That’s it, my pretty girl, cum for me. You can do it.” His praises subsided with your moans and whimpers. It was enough to make your eyes roll back and your hands grip around his wrist that was set on your throat when you came once more.

“Holy shit! Holy–Fucking—Shit!” You yell out feeling a hot mess pool out of you. 

Dream watches in pure fascination, adoring all parts of you from the beginning of this stupid game, til the end. He leans down to kiss you gently, making sure you got a taste of what he had so much pleasure in enduring. When he pulls away, you get up, Dream goes to grab you a towel and a glass of water.

When he comes back, he sees you with a Dare card in hand and a challenging gaze.

“This Dare is worth 50 points. You in for it?” You provoke him.

Dream takes a glance at the words on the card before slipping off his shirt.

“A Dare’s a Dare.”

Ⓒgardenofcarnations