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void-my-warranty · 4 months ago

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18+ Gaz/fem reader — past bullying, PIV, friends to lovers

Gaz who used to be such a jerk to you.

You’d almost think he liked you at times, but then a backhanded compliment or a laugh at your expense would sober you right out of that delusion. It was always a stark reminder of the invisible wall between you — his effortless charm, and your nervous quiet.

You accepted it.

Socially, your breeds were just different. He was a dangerous thing you’d better not touch, better not even look at too long, in case it opened you up to his attention.

And if you were a more healed version of yourself, you might have cut ties — found new friends, deleted the group chat, and maybe even switched your classes around to avoid him. But you were seventeen and didn’t think you deserved any of those protections, so you stuck it out.

And then he joined the military, and you moved on with your life. Many years, two and a half boyfriends, and two cats later, you never expect to run into him again. But you do, on some random, gloomy day. That’s definitely him, headed obliviously in your direction while he talks to someone on the phone.

You’ve just finished assuring yourself that there’s no way he'll remember you, when his eyes land on your face and light up in recognition.

Shit.

This is going to hurt.

Instantly your mind erases all the personal growth you’ve accomplished, and puts you right back into the anxious shell you were all those years ago, as if his face were some trigger for memory loss. If only he hadn’t noticed you, and you could turn around and pretend you never saw him. But no, he’s already walking over, stowing his phone in his pocket.

“Kyle,” you respond with a fake smile when he says your name. “You look…” Your eyes rake over his faded, well-worn jacket, so at odds with the flashy clothes he used to wear. “…different.”

It’s true, everything about him seems changed, from the understated surety of his posture, to the random scar on his face now. Even his eyes feel different, when they’re connecting with yours. It’s like his personal aura of disregard has evaporated, and something entirely different has taken its place.

“Speak for yourself,” he says, in a softer, deeper voice than you remember. “I like the new hair.”

You cringe internally, waiting for that mocking smile to make an appearance. But no, he just gazes speculatively across the pavement at you, as if the compliment had no hidden meaning at all.

“Thanks,” you mumble. “It’s… uh… are you visiting?”

“Stationed,” he clarifies, reluctantly dragging his eyes away to scan the damp street. “Just got my things unpacked.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” You’ve just started to slink away as subtly as you can, first one sidestep and then another.

“D’you live here?” he asks point-blank, with a little quirk to his brow.

C’mon, lie. Say you’re on holiday or something.

“…Yeah.” Why does he have to act so different? It’s throwing off your learned defenses. “A couple streets over.”

The spark of interest you glimpse in his eyes is quickly smothered by something unreadable.

“S’ppose I’ll be seeing you, then,” he offers, lingering his eyes once more on your hair, which you previously believed was behaving today.

“Alright, see y—“

It’s Kyle who escapes down the stretch of pavement. Kyle who makes a hasty, awkward retreat before you’ve even finished speaking.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, continuing down the street.

Sure, you’re confused, but that encounter was oddly… centering.

Maybe, after all this time, you somehow grew up. You’re not even that afraid of his attention any more, as if it just doesn’t even matter that much. Even if he were exactly the same as he was before, he would never again become a main character in your life or in your thoughts. How unexpectedly liberating.

You go home that night, thinking about the person you used to be. The energy you’d waste on proving yourself to people who were never your friends. The awkward moments you’d agonize over in your head, punishing yourself a hundred times for the smallest misstep. How strange that Kyle was the one to prove how much you’ve changed.

You start running into him on a fairly regular basis. At your favorite lunch spot, at the chemist's, and most commonly, on your way home from work, heading to your respective flats in the opposite direction of each other.

Every time, you're struck by how grounded you feel when he looks at you. Your heel suddenly doesn't ache, your skin doesn't feel tight and uncomfortable. He keeps a respectful distance, but his voice is always steady, and his clothes are always functional and boring. You suppose that's what the military does to some people, or maybe it's just time itself that changed him.

It takes a month for him to ask for your number. Another week to text you, and instead of asking you out for drinks, he seems interested in your cats. He can't have any of his own, he says, with the job. He seems to like the photos you send, and the little updates about your day.

It's you who invites him over the first time, for a bottle of wine and a pirated film. He sits on the other side of your couch for most of it, with his hands clasped over his belly like he's been paid not to touch anything while he’s there. He even keeps his jacket on, so when the film is done and it's time to either talk or kiss, he just stands right up and says his goodbyes.

He's almost awkward as an adult, which throws you completely off guard. It takes your cats claiming him to get him to relax a little at your place, but eventually he'll be spread out on your couch on a random Thursday night, with one cat loafing on his lap and the other one waiting on the arm rest for her turn, twitching her tail impatiently.

Your coworker asks if you two are dating, which is so utterly absurd, you don't even know what to say. You and Kyle are friends, and that alone should be enough of a crinkle in the universe. He's just new to the city, and you get along now, so it makes sense to hang out sometimes.

Nevermind that you've been cuddling closer lately, so the spare cat won't be so left out. Nevermind that you're now familiar with the feeling of his warm arm pressed against your shoulder, the backs of his knuckles tucked into the side of your thigh. Nevermind that in your bed after he's gone, you often hallucinate scenes of other things happening between you, things that would surely never exist in a sane world.

If he wanted you, he would make a move, so you're friends.

You're a bad friend, the next time he comes over.

You're wearing one of those satin bras that shows the impression of your nipples through your shirt, and you have your hair done, and you've got on a pair of little shorts, instead of your usual leggings.

Nothing a rock-solid friendship can't handle, of course. Nothing Gaz can't handle, even if he's extra quiet that night. You expect to feel his eyes on your body, but instead you feel the opposite, the inward shift in his concentration.

That rock-solid military control is suddenly a tangible barrier between you, uncomfortable and tight. The outside of your knees touch when he joins you on the sofa, shooting a spark through your lower belly—

Christ, you need to stop it. You're probably just seeking his approval to fill a teenage wound that's not his responsibility to repair. You shouldn't need him to validate you, you're your own person now, and also, fuck him for making you feel like shit in high school. You don't want him, anyway. It would be toxic as hell to pursue someone who's capable of hurting you like that, so stop it.

Overwhelmed, you put your feet up on the couch and rub at your face, trying to simultaneously get a handle on your feelings and shield you from view. This is all so stupid and unnecessary, and you're terrified that you actually like him in a very un-friendlike manner, which will only serve to embarrass you further.

For some reason, Kyle jolts straight up out of his seat, sending the cat leaping away with an affronted growl.

“Have you got any beer?” he asks, already on his way to the fridge.

“Um… I think so. Help yourself.”

Curiously, you watch his back while he putters around in your tiny kitchen. Why the hell is he taking so long?

“Kyle, are you okay?”

He takes a long drink with his back to you, and then finally turns around, bracing his arms on your counter and almost glowering at you.

“What?” you probe, curling your feet under you, and feeling self conscious with your bare legs.

Shit, he has a girlfriend, doesn’t he. Or he’s married. Or this is all an elaborate prank to shred your self esteem.

Kyle’s mouth opens and closes silently, and then he stalls with another drink of beer. You know, to torture you.

“Look, if y—“

“I love y—“

You both snap your mouths shut at the same time, staring wide eyed at each other over the countertop.

“I know I’ve been a right prick,” he says in a rush, “and you’ve got every right to bloody hate me—“

“I don’t hate you.”

Again, you both stop and blink at each other, breathing fast. You can feel your heart pounding against the front wall of your chest.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admits. “I thought I’d gotten over you, and then I meet you again, and it’s like…”

Some kind of weird euphoria is starting to bubble up inside you, making the edges of your consciousness turn into blurry pink irrelevance. Kyle— Kyle likes you.

“Are you married?” you croak, and he just laughs, shaking his head.

“No.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

You chew on your mouth, heart still fluttering. “Mind grabbing me one of those beers?”

You have sex that night, in your bed, with the cats making annoyed noises intermittently on the other side. He accidentally cums in your hand, with his palm wrapped around the swell of your pretty satin bra. He seems rather embarrassed by it, but you tell him it’s fine, of course, and just expect that you’ll have to wait another day to get yours.

You couldn’t be more wrong, because he makes you cum on his fingers twice before he gets hard again.

You walk into work the next day, feeling the most alive you’ve ever felt on a solid two hours of sleep. Your phone chimes, and you look down at first text from your new boyfriend:

Come to mine tonight? I’ve got something planned.

Drabble masterlist

#kyle gaz garrick #Gaz x reader #cod Gaz #call of duty #x reader #kyle garrick x reader #dinnertime

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goatgoesmbe · 1 month ago

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So about that post of Simons gf that's super kind. what if she's petty with her kindness. one time me and my mom got in fight and that same day she complained about how many house plants she had. so i bought her a miniature rose bush (roses being a hard plant to take care of) as make up gift. I've also made other people their coffee wrong, bought unbalanced pens, gave there cats cat nip, given their children obnoxiously loud toys, etc.

Tw : reader is morally questionable, mention of assault

OOOH ANON, I LOVE THISS-

Like- just because reader is sweet, that doesn't mean being a pushover. You have class, and your own way of handling assholes properly.

I imagine Simon would think he needed to be the one who protects you, seeing you're all sunshine and rainbow, always so nice and kind- and he just didn't want anyone to take advantage of you, you know?

But then he realized that you're actually not a damsel in distress.

The first time he saw it, was at a neighbor's baby shower..

"You've been with him for what? 3 years now- and still no ring?"

Simon glanced at you,simply smiling in response. He recognized that voice, Stella was her name. Or something along those lines. She was one of those people who always wanted attention, bragging about every little thing while also dragging people down just so she could feel better about herself.

Simon had to hold back from rolling his eyes when she previously arrived. Wearing matching designer clothes with her five-year-old son, Aiden. Which was a waste of money in his opinion, the little fella will grow out of them in a short time after all.

"I mean.. come on, you're not getting any younger.. better make it official soon before you expire - he might no longer be attracted to you by then" Before you could respond to the previous jab, Stella continued talking. You could see why she would ask something like that, it was just how she was like after all.

You and Simon have reasons, but it was really none of her business. And you couldn't exactly explain to her that your boyfriend is legally dead so you couldn't marry him properly.

Simon wasn't even listening to the other lads around him anymore- not that he did in the first place. Looking at you directly from his spot, he observed the others who interacted with you. You were surrounded by the other moms from the neighborhood, yet none of them said anything against Stella.

He saw you giggle, brushing off Stella's words way too casually like it didn't affect you, or maybe you didn't get that she was mocking you- Simon wasn't sure.

"It's time to go, luv" His gruff voice stopped their conversation as he approached you. He could feel their eyes on him, some of them not hiding the fact that they found him attractive from how they looked up at him with a slight flush on their cheeks. He wondered how you were comfortable being around them at all, he could never exchange more than a few words with them without feeling like he needed to commit murder.

Well.. whatever, you won't be meeting them again anytine soon, since the both of you were planning to move away.

You looked up at him with those big innocent eyes and pouted "But-".

"It's late" he added, putting his hand on your hip and pulling you close to make a statement at the others who still shamelessly gawked at him.

Seeing that look in his eyes- the one that means he accepted no rejection, you sighed. "Alright, let me say my goodbye" You said before turning back to them.

Simon simply grunted and waited. And when he thought you were ready to go, he raised an eyebrow when you instead walked over to the kids who were busy playing. You told them about you moving out of the neighborhood and the kids didn't seem to like that, you were their favorite after all.

"I have something for you guys to remember me by.." You chirped. Immediately, the kids looked at you with eagerness as you rummaged through your tote bag.

The side of his lips lifted under his mask when he saw you pulling out mini harmonicas. Before you could say anything more, a brat snatched one out of your hands. That was Aiden, Stella's spoiled boy. Which means it would be hard for the mom to get the noisy thing from him.

A cute little giggle escaped your lips as you watched the boy immediately blow on the harmonica messily, spraying spit everywhere.

After you made sure every kid got one, you stood up and held his hand before skipping away with him in tow. Cacophony of moms' frustrated yelling, children's laughs, and loud harmonicas left behind.

So you had planned your revenge all along, huh? Seems like you're not a total angel like he’d thought you were.

...

The second time was when he visited you at work. While he provided enough for you to stay home and do nothing, you still insisted on running your own cafe. Saying that it had been your dream since you were little. And how can he say no when you look at him with those puppy eyes?

And while you do have people working for you, you still help around from time to time. "It's the best part about having a cafe," you said to him that one time.

He was sitting at a table close enough to observe you working in that cute little uniform you had designed yourself for the cafe, when a guy walked in. His appearance screamed 'douche', the kind of guy who would talk about how many body counts is too many for a woman in a podcast.

Despite that, you greeted him cheerfully like you do with every other costumer. Even when he told you to write 'daddy' on the cup after you asked for a name, a disgusting smirk on his lips.

Meaning you would need to yell out that word to call for him when the order was ready.

And while Simon was fuming inside, you were calm. Humming along with the music playing from the speaker as you prepared the coffee.

But, instead of calling for the guy yourself, you turn to one of your employees. His name was Shane, written on the name tag clipped to his uniform. He was a big guy, not any taller than your boyfriend but still. A simple man who will be pleased spending the night scarfing down pizzas and beers. Now, Shane was known for many things, one of them being very gay, and being totally not shy about it.

You smiled before turning away to take the next order, all while secretly paying attention to what was going to happen next.

"Daddy..!" Shane shamelessly sing-sung the word loudly and even when Simon expected it already, he still choked on his tea. He also saw you biting down your lip to prevent yourself from laughing.

Shane went on for a while until the whole cafe fell silent except for the music playing that didn't fit the situation at all, which made it evenmore hilarious.

'Daddy' finally walked over to get his order. Red in the face and looking very pissed. He was not stupid enough to cause a scene, however, and simply accepted his cup without so much as a thank you. And of course, Shane added the cherry on top by throwing a flirty wink.

And when you noticed the way he glanced at you after taking a sip of his coffee, tasting regular milk instead of almond- knowing full well he told you earlier about his lactose intolerance. You simply gave him that sweet smile of yours, a cheerful "Thank you, please come back again..!" Thrown his way like how it always is whenever a customer is leaving.

Simon chuckled under his breath and shook his head. Feeling proud (and scared, that was borderline crime) of his pretty bird being cruel in her own ways.

So when he saw you sighing after an argument on the phone with your mom, he didn't question it when you went ahead and bought a make up gift for her.

#call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #mbe write #call of duty x reader #simon's cruel lil angel

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simpjaes · 1 year ago

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FIRST DATE ETIQUETTE (p.sh)

Park Sunghoon is not dull, nor is he the clean cut neighbor your mother thinks he is. Oh, the horrors of if she found out that the man she set you up on this date with immediately took you home and rendered you unable to walk...he'd never be able to defend himself without a swift slap to the head.

៸៸៸ minors do not interact!

៸៸៸ PARING: park sunghoon x afab reader

៸៸៸WC: 9.3k

៸៸៸ TAGS: mentions of food (meat), strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, brat taming, mocking and making fun of each other, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky sunghoon, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed

៸៸៸ A/N: what’s that? you’ve read this before? that’s bc i wrote it! I’ve revised the original now to fit sunghoon because I am insatiable in my lust for him. (original title: the bore next door)

smut tags under cut::

SMUT TAGS: dom sunghoon, bratty/sub reader, huge cock agenda (again), he gets the best head he’s ever had, he calls you messy a lot (he likes it messy), face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting, dirty talk, wow i can’t believe I actually wrote a condom being used this time!!!!, sunghoon tries to make you moan because his horny brain wants your parents to know, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

23rd street. The restaurant is on 23rd street, and you can honestly say you’ve managed to hit every street but this one. From 13th to 35th, does the street in question even truly exist? Were you set up by your parents?

In short, you have been single since high school. Maybe a few flings here or there throughout college but you never truly settled on one man or woman in a relationship. You’re almost shocked that your parents are pushing so hard for you to find love. They want you to somehow feel the love from the movies, something like they had felt when they met. In this century, unfortunately, love isn’t quite as predictable.

You can’t just pick a person who has a good job and a decent face and assume love will settle in someday.

Not only is it not predictable but it isn’t a priority in your life. You have no interest in meeting the standard a man could hold for you, nor a woman, or family member. You’re here to exist in your own way, work your way up through the corporate food chain, and live in a home with over thirteen cats before dying a peaceful death in your late eighties. Why do you need a man to do any of this? Why do you need to settle for one cock, one set of hands, and one personality?

Right, because mom wants you to at least try to experience what love is. Surely, it’s just because she desperately wants a grandchild from her one and only daughter. Sorry to disappoint, but that will not happen any time soon. Children were never a thought in your mind, nor was marriage, a honeymoon, or a burial plot next to another person. Your mother knows this, but the least you can do is show some effort to please her, right? To prove that relationships just aren’t your thing, and you’d much rather have the funds to live a comfortable life all on your own.

23rd street is the small thumb tack on a map where there is a restaurant that holds a very, very, annoying arrangement.

Your mother had really sold the idea to you. She says the nice neighbor boy next to her seems to be around your age, he brings her the mail sometimes. He seems to have a job, his own car, his own home that sits in a plot next to theirs. His lawn stays mowed, the siding on his house stays clean, and apparently he seems quite lonely considering your mother appears to have watched him enough to know he doesn’t bring any girls home.

At least that she’s aware of.

She doesn’t mention what he looks like and of course, when you’d asked because, in all honesty, that’s the most important thing to you if you’re going to get anything out of this, she simply states that he dresses well, is handsome, and has dark hair.

For all you know, she just set you up on a date with Antonio Banderas.

What you weren’t expecting though, is to find this restaurant almost an hour late and walk in to find an already half-eaten meal in front of a man who looked at you as if you were any stranger on the street.

A stranger you were, and so was he, but honestly, he is attractive. That alone made you feel a bit guilty for not having found this place sooner. The idea that the man in front of you did not wait for you shows that he also has priorities that aren’t you. This is probably a huge inconvenience for him too, if anything.

Imagine your nice neighbor lady telling you to go to a restaurant to meet her daughter? God. The first words out of your mouth are an apology. Not for being late, and not for not even wanting to be here, but for your mother for even trying.

“Sorry about my mom,” you mutter, plopping down into the booth with a sigh. You eye over his food, already knowing that the check will likely be split. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Why the rush?” The man immediately says, pushing an untouched glass of water your way. “I don’t mind that you were late, I was just really hungry.”

You hum at him, waiting for the waitress to come over so you can place the most obnoxious order in the world because you’re really not in the mood to even look at the menu or the prices. Chicken strips and fries, obviously.

“So, what did you order?” You state, eyeing his plate.

“Steak?” He says it like a question, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and it definitely is. Clearly there is a half-eaten steak that probably costs over twenty dollars on his plate. Still, you were just trying to make small talk.

The man says nothing after this, offering nothing but an awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t take long at all for you to stop caring about the entire arrangement, as if you cared in the first place.

“Look—” You try to offer, and the handsome man in front of you doesn’t even quirk a brow as he sips his own drink. “I don’t even remember your name, and I know my mom is trying to set us up but—”

“You’re not interested, and you have better places to be?” The man finishes for you as he sits his drink down with a gulp that makes much less sound than your own. “That’s fair. My name is Sunghoon, by the way.”

You nod at him, already deciding that you’ll get chicken strips somewhere else on your own so that you can eat them in the comfort of your own home, alone, without a stupidly handsome man in front of you that has, probably, less interest than you do.

“Well, I’m interested, and I don’t have anywhere better to be,” Sunghoon says, shooting his eyes up at you. “And to be quite honest with you, your mother was right. You are pretty.”

Taken aback, you’re somehow comforted by his forwardness towards you. He acts just as uninterested as you do but counters that demeanor with his words. You can’t imagine that this is how the man picks up women, there’s honestly no way he would win that way. No wonder he is single. Then again, you kind of do the same thing. You see an attractive person and you act much the same as Sunghoon right now. Uninterested in anything long-term but clearly interested in something.

“I’m pretty, huh?” You laugh, sipping the water and internally giving this man an extra three minutes to fully sell the idea of this date to you. “Imagine my surprise to walk in and find that I was set up on a date with someone that is actually attractive.”

“Oh?” Sunghoon quirks a brow. “Is this how you return a compliment?”

You shrug.

“Is this how a date normally goes for you—you know, where you’ve already eaten your food and would probably rather pay and leave before she even gets a chance to order?”

“No,” he responds pointedly. “Would you rather me throw a tantrum that you were late?”

“You’d be a lot less dull if you did.” You throw back, eyeing a waitress as she heads over.

Sunghoon watches as you place your order and watches a bit harder at the way you smirk at yourself through nearly everything you say. You must think you’re clever, you must think he’s willing to chase you or something.

“I’m dull?” He questions, staring you down with narrowed eyes when the waitress walks away. “You just ordered chicken strips at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”

You’re taken aback a bit, shaking off his little insults and sitting straight up. Interesting date, truly.

“Okay then, Sunghoon—” You say his name as if it’s a joke or something, but you don’t really let him react to it. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a systems software developer,” he deadpans, swirling his very nonalcoholic water in his hand. “Not that you’d know what that is or anything. And you?”

In all honesty, you don’t really know what that means, but it isn’t hard to figure it out. Assuming he must make programs or something, assuming he probably flew through college in order to do it in the way he seems proud of what he does. In all honesty, it still sounds like such a bore. He must talk in code or something in his free time.

“I’m—uh—I’m a teacher.” You try to laugh, realizing that you’re kind of putting him down when he very clearly must make more money than you do.

Only now does it set in that your mother stated he has his own home. One that sits directly beside theirs in a neighborhood that you grew up in. One that you tried to find your own home in but ended up in a shitty apartment in the city because it is all you could afford. Sunghoon must make good money.

“Oh yeah? What do you teach?” He perks up in interest, no longer acting as if he is trying to insult you and instead offering conversation to you with such ease that you almost forget you’re supposed to be getting through the date in discomfort.

“I teach everything, I guess. It’s just first grade. I swear, I teach them how to pull up their pants properly more than how to spell words.” You smile to yourself thinking of the loud and obnoxious children you teach five days a week.

Your job is why you don’t want children though. Your job is why you’d rather stay single. All you hear about is how the third-grade english teacher is fucking the fifth-grade science teacher even though he has a wife who is pregnant with their second child. Sometimes you hear gossip about the students themselves. Who in their right mind as an adult would gossip about elementary school kids? It’s no wonder you’re not a favored teacher. You’re sure they’ve said something about you for not having a significant other or a child on the way too.

Sunghoon smiles through your endearment towards your class, eyes perking up at the plate of chicken strips on their way to you. He doesn’t say much when you thank the waitress and doesn’t really pay attention to the way you devour the first strip in nearly one bite.

“Seems like a lively job. I just sit around all day staring at a computer screen…” He begins to drone on about his own job, sounding more like background noise in your head if you’re being honest. You can barely hear him over the crunching of your chicken and you’re a bit thankful for that.

“And I think that it was really worth the—” You interrupt his long string of sentences with a call of his name. “Sunghoon, do you have any other interests?” You ask, sipping your water.

He deadpans at your rudeness of interrupting him. Sunghoon doesn’t often go out on dates, nor does he often get asked about these types of things so, he goes quiet, flicking his eyes down to his hands and then back up to you.

“I like to go hiking, I guess? Watching movies? Sometimes I like to cook—”

Ah. He’s one of those guys.

“Those are like, the most common interests a person can have. You don’t have any special hobbies or weird quirky things you like to do?” You question, trying to see something in him past the fact that he’s nice to look at and has a decent paycheck.

“I don’t really have the time to put into other things. When I’m not working, I’m busy cleaning my house or doing yard work since I’m usually too tired during the week to do it.”

“God, you are such a bore.”

Sunghoon realizes now that maybe you’re not just throwing around banter. Sure, neither of you really wanted to come on this date but he could have used the time away from a computer screen to look at his neighbor’s daughter. If anything, it was an interesting offer, and those don’t come by him too often. He had seen photos of you. He knew you were pretty, and he also should have known you were a bit stubborn with the way your mother warned him before the date.

“If I was so boring, would I be sitting here on a date with a woman I don’t know?” He glares over at you.

“I don’t know, probably. It isn’t the riskiest thing in the world. What? You don’t have tinder?”

Sunghoon looks down again, because no, he doesn’t have fucking tinder and he doesn’t understand why that matters. “Why does that matter?”

“Ah, so we are similar.” You smile to yourself in a small win, and you’re not even sure if it’s even an argument at this point. “No time for hobbies, so no time for dating either?”

He nods slowly at you, completely confused by the way you go from picking his personality apart to finding some way to connect with him.

“We can wrap this up then if you want?” You offer, still picking at the food on your plate. “I can pay for mine, so I release you from this arrangement.”

He just sits there staring at you. What a peculiar woman. Do you really assume he isn’t somehow finding the fun in all of this? In all honesty, this date is going off without a hitch compared to many other dates he’s been on. He has never been on a date where he is criticized, nor has he ever criticized a date himself before.

It’s almost kind of nice, like a breath of fresh air being able to meet someone who isn’t trying to show their best aspects. Someone who is sitting in front of him being as real as they possibly can be. Sure, you’re attractive, but your lack of interest in this date is somehow—flooring.

“What if I want to stay?” He makes eye contact with you. “What if I want to pay for your overcooked chicken?”

“I’d be letting you win if you pay for me, but you’re free to stay.” You wave him off with your hand, realizing that the chicken is very dry and wasn’t hitting the spot like you’d been pretending. “So, what now then?” You add with a tilt of the head.

“Admitting I’m interested in you?” He says it with so much confidence that you’re a little bit surprised, because this entire time you’ve been trying to act as uninterested as possible, despite finding some amount of attraction to Sunghoon.

“Poor you,” You coo, pushing your plate away from you and pulling your almost-empty water closer. “Okay, let’s try and make this worth something then.”

Sunghoon prepares himself to listen, but honestly, he couldn’t have prepared for what you’re about to say to him.

“Neither of us are looking for anything serious right?” You ask, continuing after he nods. “So,” you pause briefly, thinking a bit too hard on how to word it. “Why don’t we just treat it like a tinder date?”

You’re definitely implying that the night could continue together, only to never speak of or see each other again after the sun rises.

“Are you suggesting I bring you home with me?” He looks at you with a face you can’t really read.

“Isn’t that what people do when they’re on a date, find each other attractive, but want nothing more?” You reiterate for him, because he seems to have trouble processing what you’re trying to get across to him. “Unless this isn’t your thing?”

Sunghoon pulls his hand up and pushes his hair out of his face for a moment. He’s thinking about it, barely even realizing that you’ve known each other for less than an hour.

“I didn’t take you for the type of fuck on the first date.” He cocks his head, looking at you in a lazy way.

It feels a little painful that the first curse word he says out loud is describing something that involves you and your offer.

“I’m not, usually, but it has been a while for me and I can’t help but think we could have fun with it.”

He nods, eyeing you down. “Do you want to drive to my house then? Or do I need to bring you back to get your car?”

“Nah, I can drive. I know where you live, considering I grew up next door and all. I can just crash at my parent’s house once we are done.”

Sunghoon kind of shifts his eyes nervously, looking down at the table and then back at you with a lick against his bottom lip. “Speaking of, your parents—” He pauses, fiddling with his hands. “Look, they probably wouldn’t expect me to be the type to uh, get intimate with their daughter on the first date.”

“Only date,” you correct him, amused. “What, you thought we would meet again after this?”

Sunghoon waves you off dismissively. “That’s not the point. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I’m some fuckboy, and I’d rather them not find out because I’m sure your mom would slap the shit out of me the next time I bring her the mail.”

“Sunghoon—” You snort in a mocking tone. “My mom set you up on a date with me, you’re gonna take me home and show me a good time within an hour of meeting me. Imagine if she found out you’re not as sweet and innocent as she thinks–”

His face goes warm, but his eyes darken a bit as he looks at you. “Listen, I don’t usually do this.”

“Well yeah, you seem too boring to actually have some fun.”

Offense taken.

And when he says nothing else to that, you speak up again, this time a bit more gentle.

“Don’t feel like you have to. I can go home and we can pretend this never happened.”

“No, no,” Sunghoon assures, making eye contact with the waitress as if to silently ask for the check. “I could use the distraction.”

He was slim when he stood up, obnoxiously attractive getting into his stupidly expensive car, and even the way he drove in front of you pissed you off. He drove the speed limit all the way to the familiar street of your childhood. What a boring, boring man.

When he pulls into his driveway, you aren’t sure if you should park at his house or your own. You realize if you park at either your parents will wonder why you’re parking in their driveway but not in their living room, or wonder why you’re parked in the clean-cut Sunghoon’s driveway because he would never fuck their daughter on the first date.

You opt to park a block away, walking to Sunghoon’s house and feeling a bit silly for hiding.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Fitting,” you say as you step into his living room and scan the way he is entirely boring.

“What?” He asks from behind you, watching you judge his space.

“Very monotonous, very you.”

Sunghoon sighs at your constant critiques of him, but he’s smiling through it because you’re still here, and you’re the one who suggested coming home with him.

“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never brought a woman home just to have her insult me,” he laughs, stepping around you and placing his jacket on the end of the couch. “I can imagine that your place hasn’t been cleaned since you moved in.”

You glare at him, slipping your own jacket off and throwing it on his floor out of spite.

“I am a comfortable mess, Sunghoon, and you–” you scan the room once more, “are very clearly uncomfortable.”

He shifts his eyes for a second because, yeah. It’s not that he wouldn’t enjoy having colorful photos on the walls or a couple of knick-knacks lying around. Arguing about it isn’t your purpose for being here though, and he’d much rather skip the banter at this point.

“I can admit that your jacket looks good on my floor,” he takes a step forward, attempting to be as bold as he typically would be with a woman who knows how he is in bed. He’s never had to play off of his own cleanliness though. “I’m willing to make a mess of this house if you take more off.”

Oh, okay.

“Oh, so you can be interesting?” You mock him once again, reaching for the hem of your dress (yes, dress.) and looking at him. “You want to see my clothes on your floor?”

Sunghoon watches you intently, seeing your thighs being exposed more and more as the dress raises. His body is already reacting, becoming more attracted to your witty sense of displeasure toward his entire personality and lifestyle. After all, he’s a computer whizz and you deal with screaming children all day. He wonders why he expected anything less. Little do you know though, he fully intends to have you praising him before the night is up.

“I’d like to see you on my floor,” he answers, reaching for your dress and pulling it up further and above your head. “If I’m being honest, anyway.”

You were trying to go slow with the removal of your dress, mostly to see how he reacts to seeing a woman nearly naked in front of him but damn. You weren’t quite expecting how forward he’s being about it. Here you were expecting to be fucked missionary without any foreplay in a bed with all white sheets, right next to a washer and dryer, socks on, lights off.

“Oh,” you gasp, slightly out of character in his opinion but his body reacts even more to that. He’s already allowing himself to get aroused so, naturally, his confidence is also bubbling up through each thought and word he decides to say to you.

“What, you’re shocked?” He laughs, dropping your dress to the floor and scanning your body. “I can admit that I’m a little shocked too.”

You look at him in confusion, moving your arms over your chest and wondering what the fuck he’s talking about.

“You wore a matching set for a first date? With a complete stranger?” He mocks you this time, stepping even closer and running his fingers along the hem of your bra. You can feel the warmth from his thumb gently rubbing the skin as he does it and instantly your body tells on you in the form of goosebumps.

“I’ll have you know,” you’re the one stepping closer this time, “I always wear matching sets, because I like to feel sexy.”

You’re a liar. You definitely wore them just in case.

He hums, mere inches from your face as he looks down at you. It feels like he’s fucking looming, it feels like he must have his heat set too high or something.

It gets even worse when his eyes don’t leave yours, but you feel his hand drop from your chest only to hear the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled. He stares at you while he does it, his hair falling in his face at the movement of what he’s doing waist down. For some reason, that does it for you, and you’re already rubbing your legs together as you stare right back at him.

“I think that’s bullshit,” he smirks, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants and tossing that to the floor as well, and then he brings his face another inch closer, “and don’t think I can’t tell that you’re turned on.”

You don’t back down, nor do you admit that he’s absolutely right. You just look at him, watching a strand of his hair fall in front of his eyes that are beginning to darken by the second.

“I’m not turned on, believe me, it’ll take a lot more than–” You’re cut off by him planting his hand directly between your legs, two fingers pressing your panties slightly into you.

“Hm?” He encourages you to say that again, but you’ve got your breath caught in your throat at his extreme change in demeanor.

Still, he’s looking directly at your face, watching the way you try to think of a lie.

“You wanna keep pretending that I’m boring?” He asks, sliding his fingers up and pressing against your clit.

You shake your head, finally dropping the act and blinking at him with empty thoughts.

“That’s what I thought,” He ticks his tongue at you, now pulling his fingers away and showing you that even through your panties, his fingers are already soaked. “Now take the rest off.”

You do as he says, watching him step away with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. You note that he grabs a condom, which for some reason reminds you that you’re definitely about to get railed into the next dimension if that bulge behind those pants implies anything.

Standing there with all of your clothes thrown around his living room, you watch him harder than you already had been. He’s slow when he sets the condom down on the table, and even slower when he walks up to you and places a hand on the top of your head before guiding you to sink down.

“Wha–right here?” You ask, feeling the clean carpet offer relief for your knees rather than the hard wood floors of the room over.

“I said I wanted to see you on my floor, didn’t I?” He smiles, already admiring how shameful you’d appear to be if your parents saw you naked and on your knees for him.

You nod, looking up at him. When you reach forward to actually lower his pants though, he steps back and continues to create distance between the two of you as he backs himself up to the wall and lounges against it.

“Crawl to me,” he instructs, wondering if it’s too much for you but letting out a pleased sound of relief when you instantly do it.

Would you normally let a man tell you to do that? No. Would you ever actually listen to a man who speaks to you like this? Fuck no. You can’t defend your actions when you do it and you also can’t lie that you’re absolutely fucking dripping over it. Like, honestly, he’s going to have to deep clean this fucking carpet by the time you leave this house.

When you reach him, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the very idea of him from this angle. You sit on your knees, lifting your hands to his pants and lowering them before he can try to draw the process out even longer. You can hear him let out a short chuckle at the way you try to be quick with it, and you already know he’s about to say some shit.

“I didn’t expect you to be this eager.” He talks down to you with a deep and raspy voice, one that sounds entirely sensual. In terms of what he says though, honestly, you shouldn’t expect much more considering how the two of you practically roasted each other before this very instant.

You ignore his words, letting his pants drop to the floor and now reaching to pull his briefs down. You were incredibly unprepared for his size as you watched it stand stiff and raging in front of your face. Not a single hint of precum is seen, and it makes you feel kind of pathetic for how wet you’ve already gotten. It almost feels like a challenge now, to make him feel just as desperate as you do now.

Thankfully, your throat is fairly trained for sucking men until they’re trembling. Hopefully, all those dudes you’ve fucked around with before come in handy and don’t let you down this time around.

Sunghoon watches you from above, smiling over the way you stare at his length before finally touching it. He keeps his cool though, wondering how just over an hour ago you were ordering the worst food a restaurant has to offer, scoffing at his job, his hobbies, and now look at you. What a sight.

“Go on,” he encourages you, pressing his hips forward so that the head of his cock hits your cheek, “let me see how messy you are.”

You roll your eyes at him, gripping the base before closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose. The very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. You’d think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he pushes his hips forward after four whole seconds.

So, he’s not going to guide your mouth, he’s going to hold it there? Okay, you guess. Thankfully, he’s not being super rough with it like you anticipated. If anything, he’s sliding himself into your mouth much as you’d do on your own.

He hums out at the feeling of your inner cheeks hugging against his length, pressing in more and more with each thrust of his hips until he finally gets the majority of his length past your lips. He can see you breathe through your nose, but he doesn’t feel resistance at all so he presses his hips in even more, essentially until he’s blocking your airways and your throat is restricted around him in a gag.

Instead of pulling your head back though, he feels your fingers grip the back of his legs, you’re trying. He holds your head there in place, feeling your throat massage his cock in probably one of the best ways he’s ever felt.

“Shit,” he seethes out between a bite of his lip, “you’ve done this before?”

The very thought of you letting your throat be used is enough for him to want to keep doing it, but hearing your response as a half-moaned gag vibrating around his length is a whole other story.

He releases his hands from behind your head just to see if what he thinks you’re implying with those vibrations of sounds is right, and god is he thrown for a loop. You stay there, and even when he pulls his hips back before fucking into your throat once more, you still stay there.

He’s going to lose his goddamn mind because never has a woman been able to withstand this amount in their throat for this long for him. Enough to actually have him a little worried that you’re essentially suffocating on him.

Sunghoon snaps his hips back, pulling out of your mouth and leaning down just a bit to grab your chin and guide your eyes up to him.

“Breathe,” he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you’ve won some sort of award. He narrows his eyes at you, “You can choke all you want babe, but you’re gonna have to not be this cock drunk if you want to pretend that you’ve got the upper hand.”

That motherfucker. You’re trying to make him show just a hint of desperation for you and he completely flips the tables on you?

Before you can even argue again, he’s guiding your lips back on him. You decide that it’s not over yet, he can talk down to you all he wants, but you’re going to be the one laughing at him by the end of the night.

You allow him to place his hands back on your head, and you kind of like the weight of his cock on your tongue if you’re being honest, but god damn does he have a harsh rhythm. His hips snap languidly but he buries himself deep. Even when you try to look up at him as your nose presses against his pubic bone, he’s looking down at you so casually. Like he feels okay. Just okay.

This time, when he pulls his hips back, he doesn’t have to hold your head steady. You chase his length even as it tries to slide from your mouth, and you start to move your head back and forth in time with his hips. You finally receive a moan from him when you reach a hand up and cup his balls, massaging them in one hand as your saliva bubbles out from around your lips.

“So fucking messy–” he chokes out in a surprised moan, praising you for somehow making this feel even better than it already did.

You hum around him again, feeling the weight of his cock pulse against your tongue and you start to taste more of his precum. Shamefully, you’re starting to want this more and more. You want him to call you messy, you want him to bruise your throat. You don’t mind, now that you’ve seen a snippet of what he’s like when he shows his pleasure.

Just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him.

“Just like that, yeah,” his moans echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. When you gag, he moans again. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Then, he releases you and watches with a smirk at the way you pull back in a deep breath before wiping your mouth.

You’re not sure why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel proud. Maybe it’s because he’s managed to pull out this weird, needy side of you, or maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good looking at you like this after the two of you spit insults at each other all night.

“Do you want me to return the favor?” He asks, finally unbuttoning and removing his shirt.

Seeing him now, you stare at his chest and toned arms, wanting to grab onto them and feel him do whatever it is he wants to do to you. He, on the other hand, can’t tell if you’re nodding to his question or looking him up and down slowly.

“You were so talkative earlier, what happened?” He smiles, stepping forward and falling to his knees himself, nudging your legs open in one go as he presses you back against his floor. “Do you want to fuck my tongue, or no?”

He continues to smile at your silence, eyes trained between your legs as he spreads them and then looks up at your face. “No?”

You shake your head, leaning back on your elbows to watch him and take a breath in.

“It’s hard to talk when you’re like,” you motions towards him, “that.”

He chuckles, taking it as a compliment before snatching a pillow off of his couch and tapping your thigh to get you to lift up. You do so, allowing him to place the pillow under your ass before he settles himself there.

His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers start to trail to your core, slipping through your folds with such ease that your embarrassment shows plainly on your face.

“Messy,” he compliments, lightly tapping against your clit before lowering his head and blowing softly against the glistening heat you offer to him. “Keep your legs spread for me, darling.”

You still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your slit, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he’s tasting. You’re not sure what it is about him but goddamn, he must know he looks good when he’s pleasuring a woman.

Despite him asking you to keep your legs spread for him, it appears that he doesn’t trust you to do it because he’s still got one hand prying one of your legs apart and his head moving in all sorts of ways as he allows his tongue to lap every part of you besides your clit. Even his other hand, exploring and gently placing pressure against your entrance– the way he’s doing this makes you want to press forward, it makes you want to do exactly as he asked.

You roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. You stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. You grind forward, he’s right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you.

This time though, when you roll your hips back, he takes both hands and presses your legs open as far as he can get them, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. He nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. Now, he’s sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside to taste your plush and wet walls.

God, you’re gonna lose it. Even if you didn’t want to, you’d think the way he’s moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. You moan, pressing forward and back against his mouth as your own fingers fall to your clit. You rub when you press forward, feeling his warm and wet saliva drip from your slit and down to your ass, and you rub harder when you pull back, watching his eyes flutter open and still somehow manage to glare at you.

And just as soon as it started, you blink and his face is right there. You would have let out a shocked sound, because jumpscare much? But you moan instead, because he hovers over you with a smirk and an arm between the two of you, his fingers instantly sliding into you as he attaches his lips to yours with little more than a moan of his own.

“Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks, licking against your lips and scissoring his fingers open inside of you.

You have, but for some reason it tasted better this time when he prods his tongue against yours. Perhaps it’s because it’s from him, or maybe it’s because you are a little obsessed with the way he navigates sex.

When he pulls back from your mouth, now losing himself a little bit in the heat of the faces you make when you feel good, he can’t help but give you a moan along with your own. You sound so fucking good when you’re not talking your shit, and god he knew that mouth could do more than be annoying.

“Open up,” he whispers against your lips, licking your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, “let me hear you.”

You can’t really help it. When you open your mouth, you’re practically panting for him. His arm is moving harshly as he fucks his fingers into you and causing you to nearly lose balance on your elbows, but he holds you there with his other arm wrapped around your waist, still licking against your lip and smirking when you still can’t say anything.

“Louder,” He instructs, at least wanting you to moan louder for him if you’re going to act like this when he’s touching you. “Let your momma hear how good it feels, babe, go on.”

Your eyes shoot open after that, and god, he is the fucking worst. Or maybe not, you can tell he does it on purpose. His fingers curling up inside of you and putting intense pressure against a spot that takes every man ages to find if they manage to even remember it.

“Sunghoon,” you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, “can’t you just fuck me already?”

He chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot.

“Soak my fingers first.” He says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked.

He continues to suck and bite against your nipple, and that sends shocks of pleasure straight down to where his fingers meet your g-spot. You could come right now if he’d just–

You roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. He moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath. It seems like you like not being able to breath, which is just fucking great for him. Your mom would be so heartbroken, honestly.

“You think you can ride my cock like this?” He asks, popping your nipple out of his mouth and moving those bites up your neck and to your ear, “Think you can take it?”

You nod with heat rushing through your body, feeling his wrist stiffen up for your pleasure to grind against.

Fuck, he can feel your cunt gripping his fingers as you work yourself up and it takes everything in him not to pull his fingers from you and absolutely bury himself into the tight heat you’re offering, but he holds back, pulling from your neck and watching the way your brows furrow and your mouth falls slack.

“Yeah, that’s it babe, ride it.” he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.

You shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. You feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit.

“Let it go for me,” he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain. He moves further back and watches your body soak both him and his floor. “Fuck, yes, such a fucking mess.”

Well, that’s never happened before and the fact that you’re still orgasming is also new. You feel so sensitive, releasing in waves that offer little in terms of self control. Your hands shoot to his arm, gripping him so tightly as you try to hear his moans for you, but to be honest, you can’t hear a fucking thing through this wall of arousal in your head.

Finally, you open your eyes and he’s just looking at you, smirking at the dripping against his legs and the wet spot on the floor.

“Messy, messy girl.” He says with a chuckle. “Dirtying up my living room like this? Come on, get up.”

This is the first time Sunghoon has ever had a woman squirt for him, and honestly he’s been trying for ages to let someone experience this through him, goddamn was it sexy to see. You look absolutely fucking gone at this moment, and he might be fucking in love with the image. So badly does he want to see those shaking legs try to stand for him, so badly, does he want to see you fucking buckle.

“Come on,” he says again, not giving you enough time to even think about standing before he’s pulling you up on wobbling legs and pressing your toward the couch.

He watches how you wobble over, shuffling your feet with your knees turned inward with each step. He can’t help but lick his lips, seeing how your arousal drips down both of your legs in a shameless show of how much his fingers alone could do for you.

“Sorry,” You rasp out as you make your way over, brain fogged from the orgasm and unable to feel much at all outside of the pulsing inside of you. “I’ve never–”

“Don’t worry, I like the mess.” He smiles, snatching up the condom and tearing the wrapper open with ease before rolling it down his length, staring at you.

Oh, right, he still hasn’t even fucked you yet. Fuck, he’s good.

He sits himself next to you, pulling an arm around your waist and guiding you on top of him. He doesn’t even think twice at your shaking legs, soothing them as you follow his hand and position yourself against his long neglected cock being held up with his other hand.

“Gonna keep that promise?” he asks, still smoothing his hands over your legs and looking up at you. “Gonna take my cock better than you did my fingers?”

You nod, feeling a pulse of electricity inside of you. Willing you to take more, wanting to be stretched further.

Besides, you know that once you’re seated with his length fucking impaling you, you’ll at least have his broad shoulders to hold onto if you need to stay steady.

And when you sink down, you hear the sound you’ve been trying to pull from him all night. He lets out a soft moan, almost a whimper if you think hard enough about it, and it ignites a brand new fire in you as you take him in inch by inch. Feeling the searing stretch offer a bit of pain despite the sheer amount of wet you have collected between your legs.

He can feel you clench around him in the attempt to adjust, and your legs shaking only offer even more in terms of pleasure as you envelope him entirely with your heat. He can’t help but moan, almost unable to keep up his dominant persona with a pussy so sweet wrapped around him. God, he loves blind dates, honestly.

“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both of his hands now against your thighs as you sit yourself flush against him and wait to adjust to his size, “I definitely like you.”

You fall forward with a small laugh, the irony of the situation a bit too much on top of your mind falling helplessly and embarrassingly fast at how lucky you are to have a mother to set you up with such a man.

He’s a bit soft at this moment, wrapping both arms around your waist and listening to your breathless laughs against his neck. Loving the way each inhaled chuckle forces your body to squeeze his cock delightfully tight.

God, You’re pretty, and so fucking annoying. Just his type.

“I’m still going to fuck you senseless though.” he finally says, feeling your body still at his words as you lift a bit, just to slide back down on him.

“Is that a promise?” You ask weakly, pretending that he didn’t already manage to do it with his hands alone.

He nods, the softness in his eyes disappearing instantly when he feels the drag of your cunt hug his length. He doesn’t hold back his moaning for you this time though, and he shows no shame in slapping your ass, and guiding you even closer to his chest.

You stand on your knees a bit on top of him, watching his eyes zone in on your tits in his face. Hopefully, he’s going to keep that promise too.

His hips snap up harshly as his hands grope your ass and spread you apart. He snaps his hips again and again, nearly pulling his entire length out of you each time just to fill you up once again. Stretching you open and loosening you up, the pleasure of it hitting him right in the throat each time with small grunts against your nipple when you bounce at the movement.

You whimper out, the sounds still echoing throughout his house along with the sounds of your thighs slapping against his. His grunts are deeper, and all of the sounds together sound like a desperate soundtrack of what you’ve always wished sex was like. He fucks you good, despite your legs still shaking, and despite the pain of his teeth biting against your skin now.

You can’t help it when you fall forward again, hugging around his head as he starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. His thick cock easily pressing against that same spot his fingers had been teasing earlier. You choke out at the feeling, legs jolting and causing you to sit again out of sensitivity.

He doesn’t falter at your failure to stay in position for him, and instead he gropes your ass harder, swirling your hips around him. You can feel how hard he is inside of you, splitting you open and pulsing at a near constant pace.

“Ride it,” he instructs, much like he did with his fingers and you follow suit, lifting just slightly and sliding back down again. “Harder,” he demands, pulling his head from your grasp and looking up at you with a wild smirk.

You look down at him, wondering how pitiful you must look up here. He appears to be loving it though, absolutely in love with the way you struggle to do what you swore you’d be able to.

Trying again, you begin to bounce on him and he grants you his fingers on your clit for that, moaning at your own choice of rhythm and leaning forward yet again to pop his presumed favorite nipple back into his mouth.

The ministrations of his fingers paired with his mouth sends you spiraling once again into a world of pleasure. The shaking in your legs become more of a driving factor than anything as you ride him better than you’ve ever ridden anyone.

Finally, he’s the one moaning out and trying to string together choked words of praise.

“Your grip is so tight,” he mutters out, kissing up your chest and to your neck, “i can fucking feel you dripping down my legs.” He adds in a moan, losing himself in the way you move your hands through his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck. He wants to ruin you so badly, and he’s already drenched in you. He wants more.

You knew you’d have him just as desperate as you by the end of the night. Now look at him, muttering out strings of curse words as you do nothing but ride and pet him. He’s melting under you, and you’ll be damned if he comes before you get that second orgasm.

Shooting your hand to your clit to replace his lazy movements, you work yourself up to your second orgasm and he just watches you, taking in the image of you practically riding him into oblivion until you’re clenching even tighter around him, throwing your head back and shooting your hands to his shoulders as you harshly roll your hips into his. You’re working yourself through it when he starts pumping into you again, short and tight thrusts pushing you through your orgasm until he’s gripping you equally as hard, holding you down on him as he spills out and into the condom in more of a purr than a moan.

You watch him, dazed out of your fucking mind as he bites against his bottom lip and slowly blinks through his orgasm as you. Part of you wishes he just did it raw, wanting so badly for him to make a mess of you like you did to him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You find yourself with him at your parent’s house just a week later, eating lunch in the chaotic mess of your mother’s kitchen. It’s funny, really, how he’s trying to be polite to her as if he’s not about to take you next door and probably fuck you against an open window just to blow his own cover.

“I told you he was a keeper,” your mother compliments him as she lays a plate of croissants on the table. “Just yesterday he offered to mow our lawn when we head off for vacation this weekend!”

She’s praising him much like you wouldn’t, and you kick him under the table for trying to suck up to her even more now that he’s fucked you several times already.

“Did he now?” You ask, glaring over at him and then smiling sweetly at your mother. “Guess he is kind of a keeper, maybe.”

His eyes shoot to you and he smiles around his bite of croissant at you.

“You were right though,” he counters you towards your mother, “she’s definitely a handful.”

Your mother crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking between the both of you.

“How many dates have you been on without telling me?” She asks, looking at you.

“A few…” If she considers it a date to meet up and fuck every other day this week.

“We had lunch a few days ago.” he adds, backing you up. It’s just that the lunch wasn’t exactly like–you know, at a restaurant, and if she knew that cum was on the menu, perhaps you both would be slapped shitless.

“So, are you guys going to be exclusive, or?”

Sunghoon looks at you curiously, and you look back at him.

“I dunno, it’s only been a week, Mom.”

She nods, clapping once before pushing off of the counter and leaving the kitchen.

It’s silent between you and Sunghoon for a few moments before he speaks up.

“I wouldn’t be against it.”

“Against what?” You ask, looking at him with a raised brow.

“You know, like, dating. I can’t imagine anyone actually putting up with you besides me, anyway.”

You kick him again from under the table, causing him to wince out in pain before glaring at you. You smile in return though, giving him a shrug and now rubbing your foot against the bruise you probably just caused.

“I find myself agreeing with that statement,” You laugh thinking hard about your next words. “But for some reason, agreeing with you pisses me off more.”

Sunghoon nods, smiling through the pain of the bruise forming on his shin.

“Good thing I know how to fix that, huh?” He finishes the conversation, fully aware that he knows how to shut you up and make you love it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

#enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enha smut

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lologoinsolo · 28 days ago

Text

Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Cats and Their Men Masterlist.

“Sir, I’m telling you.” You sit up a little more, “you cannot get a rabies shot from the vet.” You can’t believe what you’re hearing but also, you can believe it. “If you are worried that you have rabies then you need to go to the doctor.” You’ve repeated this so much that the man finally leaves in a huff. Well not before cussing you out for being a bitch to him. “Not shopping here anymore, my ass.” Mocking how he yelled that out before he left the store.

You take a breather when you start to get worked up. Rubbing your face like one would a cat, the smock you’re wearing is slightly wet and it’s making your skin prickle. You managed to get Jessica to let you start bathing two days ago. You figured it would be easier than working the register up front. Boy… were you wrong. The dogs are great, usually, but the pet owners or “Pet Parents” as the groomers say are not great, mostly.

Your eyes flicker over to the computer, you were making a ton of cold call to entice people to take their dogs in for bath or haircut when that guy was very insistent about needing to a rabies shot. “Can’t believe this—“ you start off but something catches your eyes. A man with a beard and a dark blue beanie is walking by holding some kitten salmon bags. A cat is walking right behind him. “Uh, sir!”

You stand up and come around to greet him. He must not’ve heard you with how he still walks. “Sir!” You yell a little louder and he pauses, turns around and looks at you. “Your cat,” you point down to the cat that’s now licking their toe beans. “They need to be leashed or in a kennel. They can’t be walking around.” It’s not safe, especially with other animals. The cat could get lost or worse! You start walking towards him, you plan on offering to help at least hold his cat for him.

He looks where you pointed and then looks at you coming up to him. “That’s not mine.”

You blink at him, your hands start to land on your hip. You’ve heard a lot of dumb things today but this is taking the cake. “Really?” You squint at him when the cat starts to rub at the man’s leg. “Sir, I understand that they are doing well by staying by you but it’s not safe—“

“Miss,” he cuts you off, he moves the kitten food to one arm, “I don’t have a cat.” He leans a little on his side, his chin tucks to his chest. There’s a spark of amusement in his deep blue eyes.

You can’t believe this. He’s holding kitten food in his hands, granted that cat isn’t a kitten but still! You take a deep breath, your patience has been running from you and you try to catch it once more. “Sir, the cat—“ just as you’re about your speech a man starts running up in your peripheral.

“Ah, there you are, love!” A familiar sound comes from the side, a dashing smile as always and slightly messed up face. “Was wondering if I’d catch you again— Sir?” Kyle turns from you and then looks slightly shocked. They know each other? “What are you?” He trails off when he sees the bag, “Oh, you’re cat sitting, I thought Johnny was gonna cat sit Bailey?” His arms cross a little, the puzzled look on his face brightens when he spots the cat doing a figure eight around the bearded man’s legs.

The man’s lips thin into a line, “Johnny’s needed, he had to head out.” Sadly, he ignores the cats affection, and then the older man looks from you to Kyle and then back to you. Something must’ve clicked in his head as his heavy brows lift just the slightest “I don’t have a cat, Miss,” he says to you, “bloke probably followed me in.” Kyle comes close and crouches, squatting right in front of the man. The cat perks up and nudges right against Kyle’s waiting hand.

“Looks like you, sir.” And the cat kinda does, there’s matching brown on the cats face, almost like a beard, and deep blue eyes, same as the man’s. “Just missing a cigar and fishing hat. Or beanie.”

“Garrick.” The older man’s voice is tight and looks on the edge of sounding like authority.

“Sir?” Kyle seems either none the wiser or is purposefully playing ignorant. He looks up with a grin, “it's fate, that’s your cat now.” He laughs and the older man looks none too happy. “Cat distribution center is at it again. Johnny will not be pleased one bit.”

“I don’t want the cat.” He looks to you and you shake your head side to side, same for your hands as you shake them in front of you.

“Sir, we can’t hold animals here.”

The man sighs long suffering like and Kyle laughs a little louder. “Face it, John,” he moves his hand down the cats back, who is now purring up a storm at all the loving, “he’s yours,” he lifts the cat's leg slightly to see the gender and the cat must think Kyle’s playing. He lets out a little noise and proceeds to curl and grip Kyle’s hand. Bunny kicking and licking at Kyle’s fingers. “Playful little guy.” Wiggling his hands some more and the cat pounces.

John, now that you know his name it’s rather suiting for him, tilts his head back with a sigh. The dark blue beanie he’s wearing scrunches slightly at the top. He mutters something under his breath about needing a smoke. Kyle continues playing with the cat and you wonder if that’s how he’s gotten more cuts on his hands and face. His kitty probably plays too roughly.

But, what are the odds that 3 men are back to back finding cats? You laugh a little and John tilts his head down towards you. Your laughter does and give him a sheepish smile, “don’t laugh now, sweetheart. You’re gonna help me with him.” His beard moves slightly as he looks none too happy. His cat really does look a little like him. Grumpy. You look to the empty grooming salon and then back at the two. Kyle has long since stood with the cat now up in his arms.

“Wonder if he’s old,” Kyle muses as he stands beside you, you in the middle of the two walls of man and muscle. “Would be a real match, eh, John?” The little nudge at age merely makes the older gent huff a laugh.

“Don’t test me, Garrick.” There’s no real bite in his words save for the twinkle in his eyes. You excuse yourself to go grab a cart for the two men, the grooming salon is as empty as can be. Jess can handle it, you think with a shrug as you walk on back. Pushing the cart and when you get close, you hear that they’re discussing names. Well, Kyle is at least.

“Could call him John Jr.” he holds up the cat a little, “beard boy, cigar, wonderer.” His names get worse and worse and you finally step in with a—

“How about Louis?” Both men look at you and you shuffle under their gaze, “that’s an old man name. I don’t really think the cat’s old though. Maybe 3 or 4 years old?”

There’s a little pause and you wonder if you should have went back to the grooming salon. “Old man name, huh?” John places the salmon kitten bag in the cart and quirks a brow to you. Kyle plops the cat down in the cart and already he’s off to sniffing the contents. “Just looks old, got a good amount of years left on him though. Ain’t that right, boy?” He moves his hand slowly to the cat. Louis purrs deeply and rubs right against his dad’s hand. Kyle says something, probably a tease, but you’re too entranced at what you see. A man that oozes strict authority, is being incredibly gentle in petting.

You really do need to work on your judgement. “Speaking of names,” you cough slightly, looking to Kyle whose’s already grabbing a nice looking cat bed. 2 to exact, his cat is definitely spoiled, “What’d you name your girl after all?”

“Oh, yeah, that…” He gives a small smile making your brows turn up. You think the worst, you really hope he didn’t give her away but you don’t know his circumstance or his home life. Just before you spiral he speaks, “don’t laugh, but her name is Marina.” You breathe a sigh of relief you didn’t know your were holding in. But you start to look downright puzzled at why he think you’d laugh. “She’s,” Kyle starts, he seems a little squirmy now, “she’s named after that lady on Sinbad… you know… the one with Eris in it and Sinbad had to—“ it starts to click.

“Oh!” Your noise alerts Louis who was making biscuits on one of the beds, “I remember that movie. Very regal sounding and I think it’s very fitting considering Marina was a bit sassy.” You loved her character in that movie. “She’ll look even cuter in that pirate costume with a name like that.”

“Thank you,” he sighs in relief, “Johnny thought it was dumb. Wanted to name her Rugrat,” he scowls, “course he was taking a piss but still.”

“Well,” you pull a face at that, “this Johnny has no idea what he’s talking about. I thought you said he was good with names?”

John’s eyes squint as he scoffs. “He can’t name shit.” He’s heard all the stupid names that the Scot has given his bombs. Cannot hear about another ‘BoomBoom’ or ‘Bigbooming’ without wanting to roll his eyes. Hard.

You laugh at this Johnny’s expense. You have a feeling that with the way this has been going… you’ll probably meet him sooner rather than later. It’s a real small world that the men you’re talking to also happens to be friend. Weird coincidences…

You end up joking back and forth with Kyle the entire time you take them around the store. Kyle’s been picking up more things for his baby and Louis is snoozing on the cat bed like the “old man” that he is. You give John the full rundown just like the two men before. He takes in your information like you’re giving him instructions on how to build a ship, very laser focused. Every time you looked away he’d follow you to keep eye contact. Your cheeks have never been warmer…

Eventually you get them both back to the grooming salon. Rather than making them go up front you use the register here to start scanning their items. Even slid them some coupons and discounts much to John’s strong disagreement. You bagged all their items and passed them both their receipts, giving Louis one last rubbing that wakes the old grump up. You quietly apologized for your transgressions and wave at the men once they take their leave. John gives a nod but Kyle waves back, you barely catch what Kyle says as they start walking away.

“…m’s gonna be back this week or next, sir?”

“This week, Gaz. Now help me load my truck.”

“Yes, sir. Johnny is gonna be livid that you have a cat now.”

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wendichester · 23 days ago

Note

hey, i love ur work! could u do a dean x reader where she’s a hunter and has her own sam, so to speak (just a big male hunting partner) and a vintage car and they’re like a parallel of eachother and it’s a meet cute or something??

⋆˚࿔ mirror, mirror,

summary. it's like your dean winchester from another universe. and he kinda likes it

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 499

notes. hope this fits what you had envisioned sweets! thanks for requesting 😙

Dean Winchester has seen a lot of things in his life.

Werewolves. Vengeful spirits. Demons that can snap bones with a thought.

But he’s never seen himself.

At least, not until tonight.

It’s a gas station off some backroad in Oklahoma, the kind with buzzing neon lights and a faded NO LOITERING sign no one cares about. Dean’s leaning against the Impala, waiting for Sam to finish grabbing snacks, when he hears it—

The unmistakable rumble of an old engine.

Not just any old engine.

A ‘76 Mercury Cougar, sleek and black, purring like a damn jungle cat.

And behind the wheel? You.

Dean straightens, interest instantly piqued. You barely glance at him as you pull up to the pump, like you haven’t just walked into his universe and knocked it sideways.

Then your passenger door swings open, and out steps—

Jesus Christ.

You have a Sam.

Well. Not Sam, but close enough—a guy built like a brick wall, towering and broad, giving off the same protective, brother energy Dean’s used to.

Dean watches as your Sam—a guy you call Hunter, because of course his name is fucking Hunter—grumbles about gas prices and disappears inside to pay.

And that leaves just you.

Dean doesn’t hesitate.

“You know, you could’ve just asked to borrow my life instead of copying it.”

You turn, finally—finally—giving him your full attention.

And shit.

Dean was already interested. Now he’s in trouble.

Because you’ve got this look—sharp, knowing, amused. Like you already figured him out before he even opened his mouth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say smoothly, popping your gas cap. “I was here first.”

Dean scoffs. “Yeah, sure. You, your oversized sidekick, your muscle car—” He gestures vaguely. “Real original.”

You smirk. “Jealous?”

Dean grins. “Of what? My reflection?”

You laugh, and it hits him harder than it should.

“You wish I was your reflection,” you tease, stepping closer. “But tell me, Winchester—”

Dean doesn’t even blink at the fact that you know his name. Of course you know his name. He knows yours, too.

“What do you drive?” you ask, tilting your head.

Dean gestures proudly. “’67 Impala.”

Your expression doesn’t change. “Cute.”

Dean’s jaw drops. “Cute?”

You hum. “Yeah. My Mercury could take her any day.”

Dean places a hand over his heart, mock-wounded. “Sweetheart, that is blasphemy.”

You shrug. “Only one way to find out.”

Dean raises a brow. “You saying you wanna race?”

“I’m saying you wanna race.” You tap his chest lightly, grinning. “And you hate that you’ll lose.”

Dean is—

Flustered.

Which is annoying, because he flirts for a living. But there’s something about you, the way you match him beat for beat, the way you look at him like you’re already a step ahead—

It’s a problem.

A problem he wants.

Hunter chooses that exact moment to step outside, raising a brow at the scene. “You making friends?”

You glance at Dean, smirking. “Something like that.”

Dean grins.

Yeah.

Something exactly like that.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @globetrotter28 ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @lemonswinchester ⋆ @4k1vrr ⋆ @bejeweledinterludes ( continues in the comments )

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #supernatural #.docx #.req

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aemondsbabe · 4 months ago

Text

Care & Keeping

summary: after aegon suffers injuries at rook's rest, you and aemond nurse him back to health

pairing: aemond targaryen x sister!reader x aegon targaryen

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, canon typical incest, mentioned canon injuries, no gore, threeway relationship, threesome, teasing, orgasm delay, unprotected sex, titty sucking, oral sex (m!receiving), fingering, dirty talk, aegond fr like they kiss and stuff, playful sibling bickering but they fuck about it, aemond is a tit, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 6.3k

a/n: I DID IT! i posted a fic again! happy to be back!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @tragicsiblings

🦋my masterlist

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“Such a spoiled thing…,” Aemond mutters while his fingers work through Aegon’s silky hair, the strands freshly washed during his bath earlier in the day – something you and Aemond had assisted with as well, much to the displeasure of Maester Orwyle and the servants. A part of you understood the maester’s concerns, after all a slip or fall would be devastating for your brother this far along in his healing, yet…

Well, he listened to you and Aemond. He would sit in the bath without complaint for the two of you, would let you wash over his delicate skin and comb through his hair with little more than a scoff or eye roll. Not so for the others, to whom he grumbled and carried on, insisting he need not be babied.

“Hush, he deserves to be taken care of,” you chide your little brother playfully, chuckling as you lie against Aegon’s chest, savoring the sound of his heart beating steadily in your ear, “He’s lived through dragon fire, after all… That deserves a reward, no?”

“Listen to our sister, Aem,” your older brother chuckles, petting his hands over you in much the same way yours move over his waist and stomach – careful of the still-healing scars there, “What is it our grandsire says? Wisdom is from the children, some drivel like that?”

“Wisdom oft comes from the mouths of babes, my love,” you correct him with a snigger, smirking when you peer up at him.

“That’s the one!”

“I’m younger than her, you dolt,” Aemond sighs, a bite to his words even as he teases, though Aegon pays it no mind – too busy spread between you and your brother like a lazy, happy house cat.

“Mm, then you should be smarter, no?”

“I…,” Aemond sighs before simply shaking his head with a soft sigh and teasing grumble, combing his fingers through his long hair in mock frustration.

This is how the three of you have spent as much time as you could since that fateful day at Rook’s Rest, when Aegon and Aemond both nearly lost their lives plummeting to the battlefield in a fiery tangle. Aemond had, by the grace of the Gods, escaped without too many injuries. However, your eldest brother had not been so lucky and had been caught in the fires of Meleys, leaving him with life threatening burns and broken limbs that had thankfully healed almost miraculously well over the last few weeks.

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you snuggle against Aegon, saying yet another quick prayer to the Seven as thanks for keeping him safe and, relatively, in one piece. Unfortunately, Aemond had been made to step in and act as regent, which meant that the three of you couldn’t spend all your time together, much to your displeasure.

That is what had kept you all apart for most of the day – official duties that had carried on much too long, especially for your younger brother. By the time he had finished with Small Council business, it was well past supper and you and Aegon had already been tucked in bed together, enjoying the cool breeze blowing in from Blackwater Bay. As nonchalant as Aemond acts about the whole affair, his true feelings are betrayed time and time again when he stumbles when he all but rips his tunic and boots off, nearly in a frenzy, eager to join the two of you in bed.

“How does the Council fare, little brother? Have they fallen to pieces in my absence?”

“Mm,” Aemond hums, the corners of his lips just barely lifting into a smirk while he rubs over Aegon’s sore shoulders, making the elder sigh in contentment, “They’re being much too soft on that traitorous bitch queen for my liking… forcing us sit up here like a herd of lambs for slaughter.”

Aegon lets out a soft giggle, the sound of it reverberating in your ear while he tilts his head back to look up at his brother, “And what would you do, hm? Take Vhagar and sack Dragonstone singlehandedly?”

“She could do it,” the prince regent muses, leaning down and pressing soft kisses against your older brother’s head, his lilac eye sparkling at the thought of turning that blasted place into no more than a fiery heap of rubble. His lips linger against Aegon’s pale hair, muffling the sound of his soft chuckle, “Why not turn all of those spoiled bastards into smoldering piles of ash and be done with it?”

“You, dearest brother, are beginning to sound very much like our uncle,” you tease, peering up at Aemond with a smirk, “All violence and warfare.”

A soft laugh is pulled from your lips as your brother’s angular face twists into a disgusted scowl, “You think so lowly of me as to compare me to him, sweet sister?”

“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it,” you murmur knowingly, sharing a playful glance with Aegon, much to Aemond’s disapproval.

“You both know very well I hate that creepy old –”

“Then why is your cock hard against my back, brother?” Aegon quickly interjects, descending into raucous giggles. The sound of his laughter quickly gets to you and your lips crack into a wide smile before you can hide it, a snort of laughter following soon after.

Above you, Aemond sputters for a few seconds before finally letting out a pained groan, though his lips are turned up into a subtle smile.

“You want to fuck our uncle,” Aegon giggles, the near giddy sound of his laughter reverberating in your ear.

Your eldest brother’s laughter is cut short as Aemond behind him begins peppering kisses over his neck, sweeping his hair out of the way as the elder lets out a quiet gasp, the planes of his stomach tensing beneath your cheek.

“And what if it’s you I wish to fuck, Your Grace?” The name makes Aegon shudder while goosebumps bloom over his pale skin as he lets out a thick sigh, the sheets at his waist beginning to tent.

Aemond’s words cause heat to bloom between your own thighs and you smile up at him as he shifts behind your older brother, no doubt pressing his clothed length against his back, letting him feel it.

“Awful tease,” Aegon whines, the petulance in his voice making you chuckle. It’s then that he directs his darkening violet gaze to you, quirking a brow, “Don’t you act all innocent, as if you haven’t been torturing me for weeks, little minx.”

A smirk blooms on your lips as his largely uninjured arm raises to encircle your waist, holding you more tightly against him while you press a soft trail of kisses over his pale skin.

“I’m afraid I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean,” the words leave your mouth in a soft hum, warm against the patch of blond hair on his chest. A lie, of course. Maester Orwyle had taken great pains over the past few weeks to make it absolutely crystal clear that Aegon was in no state to be played with, that all of his body needed rest and healing.

The old man had said it in the hopes of you and Aemond keeping Aegon away from the Street of Silk, of course. There was no doubt in your mind that your older brother could talk any of the guards or servants into smuggling him into the city. Yet, little did they know he hadn’t been whoring in months, not since the three of you had finally given into your desires.

It had been well into the night when Aemond had stumbled into your chambers, dripping with rainwater and heaving soft sobs. You’d held him closely and listened as he had explained the awful mess that had happened with Rhaenyra’s youngest bastard, his voice trembling so hard you’d had to strain to understand at parts.

You’d ushered him into older brother’s chambers quickly afterwards, not knowing what else to do and naively praying he might be able to help – to do something, anything, as king. Being Aegon, of course, the event had devolved into drinking – just to soothe Aemond’s nerves, he had said.

The three of you woke together in the morning, naked and tangled up in His Grace’s soft sheets.

With the promise of war looming heavily on the horizon, you had scarcely separated from them since then. There was a possibility of losing them both and you wanted to savor them for as long as you could, for whatever time was left.

“Ah, you don’t, do you?” Aegon’s voice cuts through the visions swirling in your head, pulling you back to the present. His hand skims down over your back and hip until he can cup the curve of your ass, drawing a breathy laugh from you, “So you’ve just been wearing these gauzy, insufferable excuses for nightgowns for no good reason, then?”

“Perhaps I wear them to catch the eye of the guards as I make my way here?” Your eyes gleam with mischief when you peer up at him, knowing exactly how territorial he can be.

His hips rut up against the sheets, cock straining beneath the white linen of them and already leaving wet patches on the fabric while a deep groan rumbles from his chest. Behind him, Aemond chuckles while he continues to press kisses over Aegon’s pale skin, marking up each side of his neck.

“Teasing cunts, the both of you.”

“Tsk, there’s no need for that, you ungrateful cretin,” your little brother snaps, although there’s no real meanness in his tone – merely a strange, brotherly teasing that you fear you’ll never truly understand, “To think, we’ve been kind enough to take care of you all this time and this is how you behave.”

“Aemond’s right, my love,” your voice comes out as a soft coo, even as you peer at your eldest brother with a playful smirk, “We’ve been so kind to you… How many times do you think we swallowed your seed before you were well enough to fuck again?”

“W-Well, I–” Aegon stammers, flushing so hotly that even the pale column of his neck turns a slight pink shade.

“Mm, all so mummy wouldn’t see how you’d stain the sheets otherwise, isn’t that right, dearest sister?”

Your lips curl into an almost vicious smile at Aemond’s jab, relishing the way Aegon’s dark eyes widen at the mere mention of your mother. Poor thing, you remember how embarrassed he’d been the first time he’d been desperate enough to rut against the bed sheets until they were dirtied with his spend, left to his own devices late at night after you and Aemond had retired to your own chambers.

He’d sobbed against your chest that evening while he recounted the Maester mentioning it in the morning, pleased that all the king’s precious parts were still in working order, yet that did little to numb the sting of your mother’s stare – evidently disappointed that he’d debase himself in such a manner.

“Quite right, little brother,” you all but purr, rising to your knees before carefully maneuvering yourself over one of Aegon’s thick thighs, mindful still of any tender spots, “Isn’t there anything you’d like to say to us, Aeg?”

“I… T-Thank you,” he finally manages to huff out, violet eyes staring hungrily at where your warm heat presses against him – achingly hot through the thin fabric of the sheets.

“Good boy, Your Grace,” Aemond whispers against the shell of your brother’s ear, his gaze just as hungry as Aegon’s as they both look over you – the lacy, satin material of your nightgown doing precious little to disguise anything below it.

“He can be sweet when he wants to be,” you murmur, smiling at the way your eldest brother’s head tips back against Aemond’s pale chest when you lightly scratch your nails over his tummy, tracing a path down beneath the sheets. An amused little giggle spills from your lips when his hips rut against your hand the second you gently grab at his length, giving it a light squeeze, “Can’t you, lovely boy?”

Grunting, Aegon merely nods while soft whimpers spill from his lips at the feel of your hand on him, of Aemond’s lips against his neck.

“Please, fuck,” he groans, swallowing thickly and licking at his lips while he tries to buck up into your hand – his movements jerky and uncoordinated from being off of his feet for so long, “Seven Hells…”

Giggling at his grumbling, you tilt your head to the side as you look over him. Even injured and half-healed, he’s beautiful. In all the places where Aemond is lean and toned, Aegon is thicker, more stocky and soft; the juxtaposition between the two of them has always made your heart flutter.

“Tell us what you want.”

Aegon whines at Aemond’s firm command, but obeys nonetheless. The way his dark gaze immediately finds your own makes your lips curl into a proud smirk.

“Want you, please…,” he finally breathes and disentangles his hands from where they’d been clawing at the sheets to instead run them over your thighs, one moving more easily than the other – his injured arm still trembles.

“Mm, you’ll need to be more specific,” You can resist teasing, he just begs so prettily.

“Gods, your cunt,” the way he impatiently growls the words makes you snigger, “Insolent little wit– Agh!”

“You’ll be nice to our sister,” Aemond hisses, smirking as he gives a harsh pinch to Aegon’s nipples, “Or you can lie here and watch me enjoy her instead.”

A scowl blooms on your eldest brother’s face at the threat and he gives an almighty huff before thankfully settling; your little brother may have no qualms about denying him, but you prefer to indulge him, truly. Smiling wickedly, you fix Aegon with an almost innocent expression – brows drawn up just slightly, eyes widened… before sliding your gaze from his violet eyes and up to Aemond’s single lilac one.

“You know, baby brother,” you start, arching your back just enough to press your breasts out enticingly, putting on a show for them both, “If I’m to take His Majesty’s cock, I’ll need some help readying myself…”

Aemond’s snicker is such a sharp contrast to Aegon’s broken groan.

“Wouldn’t you like that?” Your younger brother rasps into your eldest’s ear, petting through his hair with a gentleness that one wouldn’t expect from such calloused hands, “Hm? To watch while I prepare our lovely girl for your lovely cock, dear brother?”

Aegon nearly wheezes at that, as if the mere thought of it has knocked all the wind from his lungs.

“Fuck, please,” he whines, nuzzling against Aemond’s touch like a cat, “Want it, please.”

“Anything to get my cock in her faster,” is the unspoken truth there, one he’d made the mistake of voicing before. Aemond had made sure that was a long night.

“Shh, sh, sh,” he soothes him now, gently petting over his chest while he kisses over the side of his face, “You’ll get to watch.”

Aegon lets out slightly pained grunts as Aemond works his way out from behind him to stand at the edge of the bed, taking the time to make sure he’s propped comfortably against the pillows before his touch finally leaves him. With a dark chuckle, your little brother swiftly climbs back up on the bed, nude save for the soft linen trousers hanging low on his hips.

“Now, I believe I have some business to attend to, don’t I, love?” He whispers against the shell of your ear while he takes his place behind you – kneeling and holding you against his chest. As always, a barely there sigh leaves his lips at the way the soft satin of your nightgown feels against his skin; it’s a sensation he’s grown to crave ever since you began ordering those special silks – the ones imported from Lys, the same ones Alicent insists on using for her sleepwear as well.

He’s never told a soul, but the feeling brings him comfort – brings back memories of being held and comforted, of before his mother became hardened to the world.

You can’t help the gasp that tumbles from your lips when he bites at your neck and roughly tilts your head to the side, long fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of your neck, “Please, little brother.”

“You know I’d never deny you, sweetling,” his breath is warm against the crook of your neck while his hands caress over your body, drawing soft whimpers and groans from the man lying on the bed below you. Aemond takes his time, never one to rush, and lets his touch linger over every part of you.

Starting at your shoulders, he runs his hands over your arms before skirting them back up and over your sides, making your nightgown ride further and further up your hips as he does. Just as he cups your breasts, you lean down against Aegon’s chest to let him feel the way Aemond’s long fingers work against you, mindful not to rest against him too firmly.

The heat from being trapped between their two bodies is nearly stifling but you’d never dare pull away.

“Gods, Aem,” you whine when he plucks at your nipples, rolling them between his long fingers while you pant against Aegon’s pale throat. Your older brother’s good arm comes up to circle possessively around your waist, keeping you pressed against him, long past caring if it sparks soreness within him.

“You feel so good,” Aegon whimpers against your hair, his voice little more than a needy growl while he ruts his hips up against your stomach. Chuckling, you nip over his collarbones just enough to leave small marks behind, painting him as yours.

“If I feel good now, just think of how good I’ll feel around you,” you murmur against his chest, relishing the way he keens – the way his cock twitches against you, doubtlessly leaking steadily against the thin bed sheet separating the two of you.

“Fucking dripping,” Aemond mutters behind you, letting out a satisfied chuckle against your spine while his deft fingers begin circling over your sensitive pearl, “Eager little thing, aren’t you?”

“Always for the two of you,” your voice shakes as you reply, words getting caught in your throat with each movement of your brother’s long fingers against your center.

“Did you hear that, brother?” Aemond says smugly, his low voice dripping with satisfaction, “Seems our dear sister is quite the little whore for us.”

“Mhm, mhm,” your eldest brother strenuously agrees, jerkily nodding his head while you let him hump against you, savoring the way the hard line of his cock presses against your belly, “O-Our whore, yes.”

“You’d better not let him spend,” Aemond growls, his good eye narrowing when he sees what you’re allowing to happen. He tugs at your hair hard enough to have you hissing and smirks at the sound.

“I won’t, I won’t,” you huff, rolling your eyes only to yelp when his large hand suddenly comes down on your ass. You can’t help the way you press back into it, the harsh sting settling over your skin like a warm blanket, “Gods…”

“Play nice,” he rasps, grinning at the way you cry out when he abruptly pushes two fingers inside your already-fluttering walls, “Or Aegon won’t be the only one left wanting.”

“Mhm, yes, little brother,” you rush to say, readily agreeing – knowing all too well from experience that if Aemond meant to deny you, that there would be no talking him out of it. Lucky for him, the prospect of that was enough to placate you. Not that you even have the lung capacity to sass him, not with the way his long fingers move within you.

Aegon whimpers in time with you each time the pads of your brother’s fingers brush against that sensitive spot within you, as if he can feel the pressure within you too. He lets you hold onto him and hardly even protests when Aemond angles your hips in such a way that the planes of your stomach don’t even rub over his neglected cock, the absolute prick.

“F-Fuck, oh, fuck,” the curses are all but knocked from you with ear harsh thrust of Aemond’s fingers, the chambers silent save for the steady crackle of the fire in the hearth and the wet squelching noises sounding from between your legs – which only serve to spur your little brother on further.

“So tight, Seven Hells,” he mutters, leaning over you and trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up the curve of your spine. You can feel his lips curve up into a cocky grin when he presses his thumb against your bud, drawing a loud, gasping cry from your lips.

“Aem, Aemond, I–”

“Shh, shh,” he soothes, smiling at the way Aegon’s hands, both of them, even the shaky, still-healing one, thread into your hair and comb through it – a gesture that’s calmed you since the three of you were children, “Be good and take it.”

That’s a lot easier said than done, especially when the world seems to tilt on its axis when he manages to slip a third finger into your aching sex. The stretch of it only makes the fire threatening to consume you burn all the brighter and twin groans fill the room when your walls pulse greedily around him.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Aegon all but breathes, his voice raw and shaky and dripping with a soft kind of praise he only ever gives to you, “So good for us.”

“Mm, our big brother’s right, sweetling,” Aemond hums, rubbing his thumb in tighter and tighter circles over your pearl and focusing the attention of his fingers within you on that spot that he knows makes you see stars. The effect is instantaneous and after no more than a couple seconds, you’re all but sobbing as you go limp on top of Aegon, unable to so much as hold yourself up as pleasure courses through you.

Your younger brother smirks, you can’t see it but you can feel it, and groans low in his throat when your walls clench so tightly around his fingers that he can hardly move them at all. The only sounds coming from you are near pitiful squeaks in time with the movements of his hand.

“Gods, so close, aren’t you?” Aemond all but growls against the shell of your ear, just as Aegon pulls you forward into a searing kiss, “Show it to me.”

Powerless to do anything else, you let out a choked whimper against Aegon’s lips – practically sobbing into his mouth while his tongue licks against your own. Your high crests and crashes into you like the waves at Storm’s End, almost violent and bloodthirsty in the way it sends your pulse racing, in the way it nearly engulfs you.

All the while, your brothers hold you steady. Aegon keeps an arm slung around your back, anchoring you to him, while Aemond uses his free hand to hold you upright as he wrings every drop of pleasure he can conjure up from you – not daring to stop until your pleasured moans turn to tortured gasps.

Finally, Aemond pulls his fingers from you with a satisfied grunt, leaving you panting as you slip from atop Aegon, shifting to lie beside him instead, curled against his largely uninjured side. Your eyes have hardly fluttered open before Aemond’s moving, leaning over Aegon like a shadowcat, finally victorious in hunting down its prey.

“Taste,” he whispers, bringing his fingers, still glistening with the evidence of your orgasm, to your eldest brother’s lips. As usual, Aegon wastes no time and eagerly parts his hips and lets Aemond press them to his tongue. Your breath catches in your throat when his violet eyes roll back at the taste of you on your brother’s skin, a hungry, needy whine sounds from this throat while he takes the time to suck them clean.

Your younger brother’s eye sparkles as he watches, his cock tenting the dark fabric of his trousers and pressing against Aegon’s thigh.

“Aeg, don’t be greedy,” you finally pipe up, the air back in your lungs and a playful smirk on your lips, “Share with our little brother; he deserves it, no?”

Two sets of eyes land upon you, guided by the suggestive tone of your voice. Poor Aegon looks wide eyed and dazed, already half out of his mind and you haven’t even started on him. Aemond, on the other hand, looks downright predatory – dangerous in the low light.

With a breathy chuckle, he sets upon your eldest brother, capturing his lips in a heated, almost savage kiss. Aegon sobs into it, his hips lifting on their own accord beneath the sheets as Aemond nips at his lip and sucks at his tongue with a barely contained lust. The elder reaches up with his good hand and threads his fingers through the younger’s long, pearlescent hair just as a rough, sword-worn hand gets wrapped around his throat, holding him in place.

The sight of their frenzied affection makes your thighs clench, your core throbbing once more, uncaring that you’d found release only moments ago. Unable to resist, you lean in until your lips brush over the soft, pale skin of Aegon’s chest. You pepper it with kisses, making him whine and whimper into Aemond’s mouth. Shifting the bed sheets out of the way, you can’t help but bite at your lower lip at the sight of his cock – angry and flushed and leaking copiously, leaving a pool of it on his tummy.

“Mm, it’s cruel to let him suffer this way,” you say lowly, meeting Aemond’s eye when he finally pulls away from Aegon, lips curling into a smirk that matches your own, “I promised the poor thing my cunt, I think he’s earned it.”

“Please, please, f-fucking, please,” your eldest brother whimpers pitifully, hips bucking while you run your hand over his thigh as he looks between you and Aemond imploringly, violet eyes glassy.

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you,” you promise, pressing one last kiss against his chest before turning to Aemond, “Help me onto him.”

You’re moving before your brother can protest, can think of some other reason to tease. Ever since Aegon was injured, you’ve needed Aemond’s help to stay balanced the scant few times you’ve taken him. So much of his upper half was injured that you’re hardly able to put weight on one side of his chest, even now, which makes staying upright without assistance hardly worth the possible risk.

“Fine, fine, I suppose the little whelp’s earned a treat,” your brother sighs and slips off the bed, taking care to help you straddle Aegon’s hips once more while he stands at the bedside. You take a second to pull off your lacy nightgown, smirking at the groans of appreciation you get in return.

“Gah–fuck!” Aegon grunts the second your slick center presses against his aching length and presses his lips tightly together as his eyes squeeze shut, his fingers white-knuckled while he claws at the sheets, “S-Sweetling, please, please, I n-need you.”

“And you’ll have me,” your voice is sweet when you reply, soft and breathy. Your touches are the same, knowing that’s what he needs now. Balancing with one hand securely on Aemond’s shoulder, you watch as he leans down just enough to grab at your brother’s length and notch it at your entrance.

“O-Oh… fuck, f-fuck, Seven Hells,” the words sound as if they’re being punched from Aegon’s chest, like he can hardly get enough of a lungfull to speak while you slowly sink down onto him.

While he pants below you, nearly thrashing, you aren’t doing much better. Throwing your head back, you let your eyes flutter shut as a series of breathy moans spill past your lips. Silently, you’re thankful Aemond took the time to prepare you – sometimes they both get so wound up, preparation goes out the window and while you have come to love the nearly-painful ache of taking them without it, it’s always so much better like this.

“Gods!” You nearly screech when Aemond suddenly rubs at your pearl, making you jump slightly atop Aegon, who lets out an equally embarrassing noise at the way your walls suddenly contract around him.

Aemond, on the other hand, looks entirely too pleased with himself as he straightens again. He takes the time to brush a lock of hair from your face and cups your cheek in such a gentle way that you nearly ignore the mischievous glimmer in his eye, “Just getting you started, sweet sister. I expect a show.”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip at the cadence of his low voice and you nearly draw blood when he tugs at the drawstring on his trousers and lowers them just enough to free his length, the sight of it pulling twin groans from you and your eldest brother.

Spurred on by the sight of it, of Aemond pleasuring himself to the vision of you atop Aegon, you begin rocking your hips. A satisfied sigh is tugged pulled from your lips at the feel of his cock moving within you – perfectly contoured to nestle against every sensitive spot within you as the head kisses your most inner depths.

“Fuck, Aegon,” you breathe, letting out little gasps every time your bud brushes against the patch of blond hairs at the base of his cock. Each movement of him inside you stokes at the fire within you that’s steadily roaring back to life, greedy even after your previous release.

“Don’t stop, don’t… Please, s-sister, I need–”

“I know, my love, I know,” you soothe him in a gentle tone, your free hand brushing gently over his chest and shoulder, trailing lightly enough over the column of his neck that he shivers, “I won’t stop.”

A shiver runs through you when he nods and stares up at you – gazes at you with those big, dark eyes like you’re some goddess, like you’re the Mother in flesh form, taking his cock again and again. As usual, his eyes are quickly drawn to your chest and you can’t help but chuckle at the hungry look painted so clearly on his pale features – pink lips parted as he pants and whimpers.

“Here, precious brother,” you whisper, carefully leaning forward, just enough to allow your breasts to sway in front of his face, peaked nipples just barely brushing over his lips, “Suck, go on.”

You need not encourage him further as he quickly leans up just the slightest bit, just enough to wrap his full lips around one of your sensitive buds and suckle as if his life depended on it. A low, carnal groan sounds from his throat and vibrates against your skin, the sound of it making the walls of your center squeeze at him greedily. The knot in your belly grows tighter and tighter and judging from the desperate, harsh cants of Aegon's hips, you know neither of you will be lasting much longer.

For a long moment, the only sounds that can be heard in the quiet of your eldest brother’s chambers are harsh pants, the noise of skin on skin, and Aemond’s barely concealed growls.

“Gods, I– Fuck,” he pants, one hand stroking slowly over his generous length, pausing every so often to collect the slick steadily leaking from its flushed head, all the while his eye dances over you and Aegon, never settling in one place very long, “Love watching the two of you, s-so pretty…”

The little hitch in his voice makes your heart clench and sends a pleasured shiver up your spine – unlike Aegon, it’s hard to reduce Aemond to a stuttering mess so each time his words get caught in his throat is like a small badge of honor for you.

The slick noises of your brother’s hand moving over his cock soon draw Aegon’s attention and he pulls away from your breast with a shuddered gasp, his good hand white knuckled on your thigh. He looks up at you almost apologetically, a new hunger evident in his darkened gaze, before his eyes trail over to Aemond’s length.

“C’mon, then,” your little brother grunts, his lips pulled into a dirty smirk as he edges closer to the bedside, angling himself better for Aegon, “Good boy, go on.”

Licking his lips, Aegon leans forward just enough to get at Aemond’s cock; you and Aemond each let out soft moans when his mouth sucks at the flushed head. Aegon’s hips buck up into yours at your brother’s taste on his tongue and you know he’s close, teetering on the edge judging by how he shivers beneath you.

“Mm– fuck, yes,” Aemond grunts, rocking his hips little by little into your eldest brother’s waiting mouth, the sound makes your core clench once more and you can’t take it any longer. His low, breathy chuckle hardly meets your ears when you hastily trail a hand down your own stomach and start rubbing between your thighs – your fingers moving in tight, practiced circles over your pearl.

The feeling of your walls pulsating around his length again and again has Aegon crying out, the sound muffled around Aemond’s cock. You can feel his muscles tense beneath you while you spear yourself onto his length over and over, each movement causing the fire within you to burn brighter, to rage hotter.

You brace yourself for his release, clinging to Aemond’s shoulder with one hand while the other works furiously at your bud, and yet…

“You don’t finish until she does,” Aemond breathes, shoving his cock deep enough down Aegon’s throat that the only reply he can give is a garbled groan. His violet eyes are wide and glassy, silently pleading with Aemond even though he knows it’s useless.

“I-I’m close, I– Gods,” you pant, thighs burning while you all but thrash on top of your older brother, angling yourself in just the right way – causing the tip of his cock to rub against the most sensitive spot within you. Your eyes roll back in your head and stars dance in your vision and the feel of a gentle hand at your breast nearly makes you jump.

Even lost in his own pleasure, Aegon would never forget you. He moans helplessly around Aemond as he thumbs at your nipple, providing just enough sensation to send you tipping over the edge.

“Ah! Gods– Gods, f-fuck!” You cry out, your thighs trembling on either side of your brother's hips as pleasure overtakes you once more. Your lips part in a silent moan while your core all but milks Aegon’s high from him as well, the feel of his hot spend within you only adding to your pleasure.

“Mmph, mmph!” He whines around Aemond as you slowly come to a stop on top of him, overstimulation quickly getting to you both.

Aemond gasps at the sight before him, seeing the two of you in the throes of pleasure only adding to his own.

“Gonna… o-oh, fuck–” He grunts and before you can register what’s happening, he’s got an arm wrapped around your neck and is hauling you toward him. Your lips connect with his at a nearly bruising intensity and you can hear Aegon moaning with satisfaction when your brother finishes on his tongue, coating it with his spend.

Your lips move against his for a long moment while he trembles, hardly able to stay upright while he licks into your mouth – the kiss more teeth and tongues than anything else. Finally, he pulls away, nipping at your bottom lip as he does before he fixes you with a nearly arrogant smirk.

“Let our girl have a taste, big brother,” he drawls, pushing you back toward Aegon with a mischievous smirk.

“Mm, how generous of you,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, shaking your head at Aemond before meeting Aegon in a heated kiss. Aemond’s familiar taste settles on your tongue while the man in question takes his place back behind Aegon, propping him on his chest and sighing at the familiar warm weight of his brother.

When Aegon is pulled away from you a moment later, you use the opportunity to shift back to his side, knowing he must be sore from having you atop him, even if he dared not show it. You trail kisses over his neck while Aemond occupies his mouth, greedily licking his own spend from his brother’s tongue.

“You were so good for us,” Aemond praises him, his voice soft and gentle in a way he only ever uses here – in the calm, candlelit privacy with each of you like this, “Did everything I said, just perfect.”

“Mhm, our perfect brother,” you purr into Aegon’s ear, relishing the way he shudders. He’s quiet after he spends, the only time you won’t hear a sarcastic remark or a dirty joke. Instead, he’s… subdued, pliable in your arms – breathing easy while his eyes flutter closed, relishing the attention you give him.

You chuckle softly at the easy, satiated smile on his lips before your eyes meet Aemond’s over your older brother’s mess of tangled silver hair – something that’ll need to be sorted in the morning.

“I love you,” you whisper against the side of Aegon’s head, pressing a soft kiss there, “Both of you.”

“Sap,” Aegon quips, making you giggle.

“I hate you,” you murmur playfully, giving his good shoulder a soft shove.

“Not nearly as much as I detest you.”

“Both of you are absolute ballaches,” Aemond finally sighs.

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bamsara · 1 year ago

Note

I'm new to this blog, what's dream lamb and dream narinder?? They're cool but I do not understand I wish to comprehend

Dream Lamb (And Dream Narinder) is exactly as the name implies; dream versions of the counterpart that only appears within Narinder's (Or Lambert's) dreams at night.

They are a visual manifestation of the subconscious, they are not real individuals. They can reflect what Narinder/Lamb's true feelings are about something/someone, or torment them about things that they perceive to be true.

One example is that Dream Lamb often makes Narinder remember how fondly he thinks of the Lamb ("You think of them so poetically" + all prior friendship he had with them in the gateway) or pointing out how his words contradict his actions; behaving and believing them to be a traitor and insufferable but doing things of his own will (resurrecting the crab, not killing their flock because it makes them upset, allowing Leshy to live, ect ect).

Dream Lamb ALSO points out the complicated feelings with his siblings; ie reminding him of how he used to help raise his youngers, and the mixture of emotions he feels towards individuals who he claims he despises.

Dream Narinder (Who is not into written form yet and is only in comic form as of this post) who instead of tormenting the dreamer with confrontation of feelings being denied, instead sews doubt and guilt. The Lamb feels even though they stayed true to themselves, they cannot help but feel like their perceived betrayal has damaged the friendship between them and Narinder beyond repair. Despite that grief for the loss of friendship, they'll accept what little companionship they can have from their best friend left over.

Dream Narinder fuels on this, often echoing their worst fears and worries ('You've done a good job as my vessel, so I no longer have a need for you.") So he acts non-nonchalant and often mocking/teasing, or even indulgent with the acknowledgment that none of it is real. Where as Dream Lamb confronts Narinder with feelings he's wanting to push back, Dream Narinder goes the opposite route, and calmly and casually reinforces what they believe to be the reality.

Dream Lamb represents Denial of the Truth, While Dream Narinder is the Acceptance of a Lie.

However,

Because they are corrupted visuals of the subconscious, but still their subconscious nonetheless, this means that these behaviors can change or be different depending on how the dreamer thinks/feels, and how they're processing their emotions in relation to something. Especially when they're confronting it.

In other words, the closer Narinder gets to accepting his feelings and understanding the Lamb's reasoning for their 'betrayal', and the closer the Lamb gets to realizing Narinder's care for them still persists, the more accurate and truer the dreams become.

Like in this comic, where Dream Narinder is tormenting the Lamb, but after their snap back that Narinder would not say something so cruel to them, despite his outward attitude, they are practically rewarded with a praise for it.

For Dream Narinder specifically, his eye remains closed....but opens a little more the closer and closer the Lamb gets to believing how Narinder truly feels about them, whether the real cat has accepted it or not.

As for Dream Lamb, they go from being very aggressive about their confrontation to something more docile, eventually as Narinder starts to process everything.

Another thing: the Dreams are linked. Not always, but they have to be on the same...wavelength for it. An understanding, perhaps. But they do affect each other, sometimes.

The dreams can be nice too, depending. That's why they're not always nightmarish. Meaning, with enough push and pull, eventually:

Why all of this dream and nightmare stuff is happening? Yet to be revealed.

Remember guys if you avoid your feelings in real life they might hunt you down in your dreams, and possibly bluetooth you to the object of your affections dreams as well if you're nice about it

#apologies for the ramble #trod au #the rehabilitation of death #narilamb

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natalievoncatte · 7 months ago

Text

Kara had a guilty pleasure, one she didn’t share with anyone. It would have been awkward, and besides, everyone- friends, family, Lena; they all would have mocked her, relentlessly. It was the first of September and Kara was bracing herself for six months of the most exquisite torture.

She wasn’t expecting it on Lena’s desk.

When she walked into the office, the scent hit her. It tickled something in her brain and set her nerves alight, cascading shivers of excitement running down her limbs.

Kryptonians, you see, are not human. They are aliens, and react to things, to stimuli, in ways humans do not. The most obvious implication of this is Kryptonite, or rather the Kryptonite radiation it emits, which is unique to Kara’s lost homeworld and is deadly poisonous to her while being essentially harmless to humans without both significant and prolonged exposure.

There were, however, other things that Kara responded to differently. Certain flavors were too intense; some things her peers found pleasant were overwhelming or inexplicably bitter or otherwise unpalatable. Her enhanced hearing, even without her powers active, made her sensitive to noises that a human wouldn’t even notice. The list went on and on.

One thing in particular, though, was especially… stimulating to her. It got her motor going, as it were. Not like that, of course. Ironically it had the same effect on her that caffeine had on humans, even in small quantities.

There was something in pumpkin spice that excited Kara. Just not like that.

Okay, maybe a little like that. Even the scent of it made her feel things, and there was a steaming hot cup of it on Lena Luthor’s desk.

Kara had been summoned over some editorial matter of little consequence, probably an excuse to chat. When she stepped into her office, Kara stopped dead because Lena reached across her desk and picked up that cup and Kara was already having trouble.

Lena was… Lena. She was dressed in thigh high boots and black jeans and a tight, low cut green sweater that revealed a generous swell of cleavage that immediately drew Kara’s brazen eye. She caught herself looking and quickly put a stop to it, but Lena was looking right at her, smoldering green eyes peering at her over the rim of that damned coffee cup.

Great Rao, Lena was beautiful. Her hair was swept over one shoulder, baring the elegant column of her neck and her sharp jawline. Her visible ear carried multiple piercings dripping with diamonds and there was a faint pink tinge to her pale cheek. The red of her lipstick was almost violent and she positively smoldered. One might have thought she was dolled up for a photo shoot.

Kara was staring at those lips as she took a sip of coffee, leaving a faint white stain on the white cup.

Such a visual feast with the mere scent of the spices in her coffee was enough to weaken Kara’s knees and make her secretly fidget her toes inside her shoes. It was only a quick chat, a five minute conversation, but it was excruciating trying to get through it like this.

“Earth to Kara,” Lena sighed.

Kara blinked. “Okay.”

“Okay, you’ll go?”

“Where am I going?”

Lena rolled her eyes.

“Okay, Kara, you’re benched.”

“Wait, what?”

Lena huffed. “Look, it’s noble, going days without sleep while you live your double life, and we did agree that Supergirl duties will take precedence over your work here… but I can see you’re exhausted. I can’t order you to stop rescuing cats from trees and helping old ladies with their taxes, but I can order you to take the rest of the week off from working here. Which you are. Starting now.”

Actually, Lena probably could order her to stop doing things. Lena could probably order to do anything with the spicy tang in her nostrils and the quivering weakness in her limbs as heat gathered low in her belly. Kara was glad that she had just been ordered out.

“Oh,” Lena said, “and stop at Noonan’s on your way out. I hear the pumpkin spice lattes are your favorite and well,” she gave her cup a little shake.

Kara decided she would not stop at Noonan’s.

She stopped at Noonan’s. She got a PSL and a pumpkin spice bear claw and a dozen pumpkin spice donuts and consumed them all in the span of five minutes once she set foot inside her loft, after which she spent the next thirty in the shower thinking about Lena’s pillowy red lips and how kissable they were and her pale skin and how badly she wanted to mark it as hers and she sort of spent an hour in a pumpkin spice fueled fugue, and then passed out on her bed buck-ass naked.

Which was where she still was when the knock came at the door.

Her head shot up from the bed and she realized that it was movie night and she was hosting. She had no movies picked out, no snacks, and no clothes.

What she did have was super-speed, and this had a spread of frozen snacks ready to go in the oven, and a stack of blu-rays to be voted on, and pants. She needed pants and probably a bra and definitely a shirt. Humans were weird about their torsos. Fortunately Kryptonians were, too. Kara was rather lucky that she hadn’t landed on a planet that considered shirts obscene.

There were at least two like that, which isn’t a lot, but it was more than you’d think.

Kara opened the door and greeted Alex and Kelly, ushering them in. Brainy and Nia were next.

Lena showed up last, dressed in one of her peculiar movie night fits- a stylish leather jacket over honest to god fluffy pajamas, like a fashion plate going to a slumber party. Her hair was down and wavy and she looked soft and inviting and Kara wanted to snuggle her relentlessly and was very glad that the pumpkin spice was largely out of her system.

Largely.

Oh.

Lena lifted the two six packs she was carrying, giving Kara a suggestive arch of her eyebrow. Lena liked to bring gifts when Kara hosted, usually wine. Tonight she had twelve chilled bottles of… pumpkin spice beer.

Kara wanted to scream. Or possibly moan. Or possibly make Lena moan and maybe spank her a little.

Fuck!

“Hi-hi,” said Kara.

“Hi yourself,” said Lena. “Mind if I come in, or do you want to drink these right here?”

“C-come in,” said Kara.

“Eyyyyyy,” said Alex, as she saw the six packs. “The spice must flow!”

“The spice must flow,” Kelly repeated.

“Chai Hulud,” Nia said, in a faux-deep voice.

“I believe it is “Shai Hulud,” said Brainy.

“Sure, honey,” said Nia, patting his knee.

“You gonna hand those out?” said Alex.

“These are for our host,” said Lena. “Kara has plenty of spirits in her fridge.”

Alex busted out laughing, confusing the others.

Kara remained stone-faced.

Movie night then went on as normal. Everyone took seats, the first movie was voted on, snacks were enjoyed and beers were had. The pumpkin bottles sat in their cardboard holders in the fridge, untouched.

Until they got into the second movie, and Lena sauntered over from the kitchen carrying two bottles, and thrust one into Kara’s hands as she wedged herself in between Kara and Nia, casually tossing her legs over Kara’s lap.

Kara steadfastly did not look. She would not look. She would not look. Surely Lena was just making herself comfortable and private hadn’t noticed that the top couple of buttons on her pajama top had popped themselves and she was showing quite a generous amount of…

Kara looked away sharply. She had looked.

“Do the thing, darling,” said Lena.

“Do the thing! Do the thing! Do they thing!” Nia began to chant.

Sighing, Kara took her bottle and Lena’s, and popped the caps loose with a flock of her thumbs. Lena squealed in delight and Kara realized that actually drinking this concoction was an amazingly terrible idea.

Especially since Lena was basically in her lap now.

Kara tried not to drink, but the hint of that spicy scent from the beer was enough to make every nerve ending tingle and start a fire in her belly. She took a long pull on it and quickly realized she’d drained the bottle in one go.

Lena, grinning, stood up. Kara watched every sway of her hips as she marched to the kitchen, bent to grab another bottle from the bottom shelf of the fridge, and sashayed back to shamelessly plop right in Kara’s lap and offer her the new bottle.

The little display has gotten at least Alex’s attention, and she looked somehow at once horrified and amused and whispered to Kelly, who snorted.

Nia picked up on it next, after Kara had downed her fourth one of the cured pumpkin brews and her brain was sloshing around in sweet cinnamony goodness.

She was running into a considerable problem. Lena was curled up in her lap, draped across her in fact, a soft weight that was driving her absolute insane even as the scent of Lena’s… of Lena mingled with the spices singing in her veins. She forgot the movie. She forgot the existence of everything but Lena, and barely noticed when Alex announced,

“Guys, it’s late. I think we better head out so that Kara and Lena can clean up.”

“Perhaps we should help,” Brainy suggested.

“Nah, let’s go,” said Nia, who then muttered, “seriously Querl we need to go.”

Kara blinked and watched them all pile out, Alex shooting Lena a knowing look before rolling her eyes and closing the door.

Two seconds after the door closed, Lena twisted languidly in Kara’s lap, and was now no longer sitting in her lap but straddling her.

Kryptonians, you see, are not human. They are aliens, and react to things, to stimuli, in ways humans do not. They also have anatomical structures that humans do not, something that was was currently causing Kara to blush furiously, because Lena was well… sitting on it.

“I can explain,” Kara squeaked.

The look Lena gave her would have been devastating, pumpkin spice or no pumpkin spice. Lena’s face filled her vision as Lena placed her hands on Kara’s sides and rolled her hips, dragging a groan out of her.

“Is that explanation going to include a hands on demonstration?” said Lena. “I may need a few rounds before I fully understand.”

Kara swallowed hard. “You mean… you w-want to…”

“Kara,” Lena sighed. “How is someone who’s been flirting with me for five years so bad at flirting?”

Kara stared at her.

“Just, um, to clarify, you’re flirting with me, right?”

“I’m sitting in your lap unbuttoning my top, darling. I believe that qualifies.”

“You’re what?”

Lena grinned and swept her fingers down her chest, popping the rest of the buttons in sequence. The pajama top suddenly hung lose, baring the lush inner curves of her breasts while obscuring the rest of her in an agonizing promise.

Kara, finally, after years of this, took the hint and had Lena relieved of her fuzzy pajamas by the time they hit the bed.

The next morning, or rather next afternoon when Lena woke up, Kara looked over at her. Her eyes had just opened and she was grinning ear to ear.

“Lena?” said Kara.

“Yes? Before we go again I’m going to need a protein shake and some supplements.”

Kara felt her ears burning as her cheeks heated.

“Did you know about the pumpkin spice thing?”

“Pumpkin spice thing?” said Lena.

“Alex told you, right?”

Lena pursed her lips.

“Nope.”

“Cat Grant?”

“No, although I did ask her and she said you, and I quote, ‘creamed your khakis’ in front of her one time.”

“Then who?”

Lena grinned.

“I went to Clark to ask him the right way to go about seeking your attentions. Lois overheard and pulled me aside. Apparently you two share the same weaknesses.”

“My only weakness is you, baby.”

“Oh, it’s baby now, is it?”

“Yup,” said Kara.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #smut #pumpkin spice #kryptonians are aliens #Kryptonian aphrodisiac #Lena Luthor loves Kara Danvers #kara danvers loves lena luthor #lena knows kara is supergirl #Lena is going to buy a pumpkin spice mine #she who controls the spice controls the Kryptonian

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mrsmnsn · 1 year ago

Text

My valentine

Summary: You and your best friend found a way to get away from all the valentine’s day by doing your own program. But, being alone for a long time only meant you two were horny and needy for affection.

wc: 3.3k (i got a little excited writing it, sorry)

warnings: friends to lovers; smut!!! +18 please (you’re responsible for yourself babe, but i warned you); fluff; masturbation (m!reciving); inexperienced!femreader. Tell if something is missing.

authors note: I know i’m a little late with valentines thing but i couldn’t help myself. I really liked the result and i hope you do too. It’s a new thing writing smutty things but i hope it’s not terrible. <3

*update*- i just posted a part two!

**********

It was valentine’s day and you felt like you were the loneliest person in the world. Everyone was with their partners when you were all by yourself. Of course you were being dramatic but you were tired of having to pretend that it was okay to be single because you don’t needed a boy to make you happy. But you wanted to.

The same thing happened to your best friend. Eddie was all by himself. He was never the guy the girls would die for. They were too scared to see how pretty he was. But he also had been feeling kind of alone. He would walk in the market and see all the decorations he hated so much. Not only in school, everywhere, people would be all over each other. He always hated valentine’s day but he never knew that was because of his jealousy and would always blame in the capitalism and its ways to persuade people.

As you both would be alone, to distract you from thinking about couples making out, you created your own thing. You would go at each other’s house to watch movies together, eat junk food and talk about stuff. For two years you’ve been doing this and this year was your time being a host. At this time, you got lucky your parents weren’t home for the week. In the first year, you brought Eddie home and your mom kept asking non stop questions about him and how did you finally realized you were made for each other.

“You’re late.” You opened the door for him, taking the boxes off his hands.

“I’m sorry my lady, is my butler work not good enough for you?” He said in a english accent mocking you. “There was a lot of people ordering pizzas too. They copied our idea.”

“Fine. I just took the cookies out of the oven.” You pointed to the baking sheet “What movies did you pick?”

“Well, let’s see.There is the movie you asked for with the cats”

“Did you take the right one? Or just some movie about a cat?”

“Is the Disney one, right? The Aristocats? I got this one, nightmare on elm street and fast times at ridgemont high.” Eddie only took this last one because Steve said ’there’s some very interesting scenes about a girl, if you know what i mean’. Of course Eddie knew the girl’s titties would show up, he’d never watched it because he thought it would be a shitty movie. “If i want to see boobs i’ll just watch porn or i’ll buy a magazine” he would say. But he really thought about it and that would be the only way to make you watch something like that with him.

Once he asked if girls watched porn and you just ignored the question. He wanted to see your reaction and he knew you would never watch something like that, let alone with a guy. It would be the closest thing to porn you’d watch.

Also it was a secret to no one that he had a little massive crush on you. Maybe it was a secret only for you. Eddie don’t even know when did it started. One day you were just a girl who he was friends with but suddenly you were much more then that. You were hot, interesting, cute, smart and he couldn’t help but be enamored with you. But he never did anything to change that, to afraid of making you run away from him. To him, in that situation, your relationship as friends was more important. He wouldn’t stand to lose you. So he buried his feelings deep down and pretended it that never happened.

“Eddie it’s not Halloween. We’re not watching that, you know i can’t sleep afterwards.”

“Alright, no horror movies” He discarded the movie

“So is gonna be aristocats and this other movie. Is this even good? I never saw it.” Of course you saw it. Since Dustin told you guys his girlfriend was a hotter version of Phoebe Cates you had to. You scolded him after.

“It was on the recommendation board so we’ll have to trust in that”

********

Eddie had never seen the Disney movie before. It was for kids but you always loved it since you were a little kid. And if you loved, he’d watch it for you (he would not admit but he loved it too). There you were in the second movie. You had seen it two years ago so you were focused on the movie. But with that, you forgot about the boobs

“Oh…” Your cheeks got red. Seeing that by yourself was ok. But right by Eddie’s side, you got embarrassed and tried not to look at the tv in front of you. In the meantime, he was looking at you to see your reaction.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know that would happen” He said trying to sound like he was surprised

“Don’t worry, i see this every day.”

Eddie didn’t payed attention in the movie anymore. Were you talking about porn?

When the movie ended you went to bed and Eddie came with you. Being friends for a long time made you so accustomed to be around each other that now you would insist that he would sleep with you in your bed and not on the couch.

He would not sleep if he kept the question to himself. He had to ask.

“Good night Eds. Thanks for today. It was really nice!”

“Sure sweetheart, i had a good time too!”

And the place got quiet. It was now or never.

“Hey… can i ask you something?”

You just hummed

“Well… Earlier, when we were watching the movie you said that you would see it everyday when we saw the girl’s titties. With that do you… you know, d’ya mean you see boobs everyday in like, porn?”

“What? Why would you say that?” You said looking at his face even though the room was dark

“I don’t know why it just came in my head like, come on!”

“Eddie… i’m a girl. I see them everyday because i have them. Just like every woman. Go sleep, will ya.”

Eddie don’t know if that make it better or worse. Not that he didn’t know you had boobs. Of course you had. But now, you had boobs, you’d watch them and everything came to Eddie as a movie. Or as a dream in witch it really did. Right by your side, in your bed, in your house. Eddie had a wet dream about you. I wasn’t the first time. But it was in you house, close to you. Till then, he was sleeping and his mind was working on making him hard by the images of you touching your boobs while you were fucked by him.

You had woken up first, not realizing his morning wood, you went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen to take a glass of water and came back. But now he’d moved and, in his sweatpants, his “situation” was pretty obvious.

That scared the shit out of you. What would you do? Should you go back to sleep? Or try to pretend you never saw it. You weren’t a boy, but that seemed to be very uncomfortable. Suddenly you got hot. Seeing his dick poking out in his pants, his bare torso shown by his shirt that was lifted up. His wild hair that framed his face. Of course you knew you had feelings for Eddie, but you never did anything to let him know. It was a secret only for you and you only. You couldn’t do anything about your best friend. Even if he had a boner and got you all worked up.

He started to move around and to wake up when he saw you sitting on the bed and looking at the ceiling. Before saying anything he felt it. “Holy fuck!” that’s what he thought. He started to panic. Did you saw it. Would he be fast enough to run to the bathroom and try to work on it. “No, you shithead, you can’t jerk in her bathroom”

You realize his movements and looked at him. You knew that he knew you knew. Now the blanket were covering him.

“Mornin” He said casually and you nodded you head, trying not to lend your eyes on his cock to see if you could still see his bulge. “You saw it, right?”

“Saw what? I-I just woke up!” You said a little to fast “I mean, i barely opened my eyes and- yeah, i saw it.” you stopped when you saw his expressions getting amused. If you already saw it, there wasn’t a reason to be concerned anymore.

“Don’t worry, that happens sometimes” he said as if he didn’t have any dreams. It was just normal

“What? Out of nowhere?”

“Yeah, sort of…” He said remembering you in his dream and resisting the urge to touch his cock

“Can’t you like, turn it off or something”

He laughed at you face. You were getting more and more uncomfortable and in the same time, a bit horny. “It’s not like the tv we watched last night. You can’t turn it off.”

“But…” You saw his face. He was looking at you “I don’t get it”

“Well, i don’t know how to explain it” He tried to sound confident about it “It’s like when your nipples get hard when you women get cold. It not a thing you control” That part was true. He couldn’t control his dick or his mind so he wouldn’t find you attractive.

“But it seems to be painful” You said looking at him getting up.

“It is a little. I’ll go to the bathroom to try to ‘turn it off’” He said giggling

“Wait Eddie!” He turned to you and now you could see how big he was. Even with his pants, it was visible. “You don’t have to do it by yourself. Can i do something? Like, can i help you?”

Eddie froze in place. He would go take a cold shower and have thoughts about random things that wasn’t you. He was not going to masturbate in there. Was he still dreaming?

“Sorry! Oh i’m so so sorry. I don’t know what i was thinking about” You regret when you saw how his face got to serious.

“No no no. Don’t be sorry. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” He sat again looking at you cover your face “I mean, we’re friends. Last time i checked, friends don’t usually give a handy to other friends.”

“I’m so fucking stupid and embarrassingly alone that i let this stupid date get in my mind. I don’t know…”

“Were you willing to do it? For real?” He was really curious to know if you would jerk him off. That had to mean something, right?

“I’m sorry, it’s fucking crazy!” Hugging your knees, you looked at him and forced your arms to open

“Come on, don’t be so harsh. Were you?”

You nodded to scared of his reactions to your horny attitudes

“I thought you were virgin and said you were inexperienced in everything”

“It can’t be that hard” You whispered and looked at his eyes. Those pleading eyes that were begging to go back in time but were just reassuring Eddie that the shower would not ‘turn it off’ anymore.

“What if i said i wanted you to do it, huh? Would that be to weird?”

Now it was your turn to be shocked. Now he was asking you to do it. Was it to weird? Maybe a little, but only because you never did it before and because it was your best friend.

“I don’t know Eddie… I think you just as crazy as me” He laughed at that

“I might be a little. But it’s a good thing” You were feeling more comfortable now. It was your Eddie again and not some guy you had a crush on. “I know what you’re thinking. But, don’t you think i never wondered how would it be to kiss you? You are the most amazing friend i could have and with that comes this feeling too. But i don’t want to lose you. You’re to important for me”

“You too. Honestly i’d be lost without you. But i also wonder how would it be, you know…”

You kept looking at him and he did the same. You were making sure that it was the right thing to do. The he closed the gap between you two. Bodies bonding and connecting to each other. Your lips were so soft. Eddie was sure he was in his dream now. His hands that before was holding your face, now went to your back, caressing your waist. And your hands ran from his shoulders to his hair, tugging some locks of it and making him groan.

Things heated up and he pulled you to his lap. His bulge was now touching your crotch. With his hands on your waist, he took advantage of that and encouraged you to move back and forth making you feel so good. The friction was perfect. His lips were perfect. The way he was kissing you like he waited his whole life for it. Separating to breathe, you leaned on him, your foreheads touching, but your movements continued slightly.

“For a very inexperienced girl, you’re a hell of a kisser. Damn, are you sure you’re telling the truth?” He said panting with his eyes closed and his lips curled to a smile. You smiled back

“Yeah, i assure you. Don’t make me feel like i’m too good though. I’m gonna get too cocky.”

“Tell that to him” He pressed you down on him and, once again, you felt his hard dick. ‘How can it be so hard?’ you thought

“Can i take of your pants?” you asked a little scared

“Sure thing, sweetheart” He was smiley. He helped you to take it off and wow. You were a little shocked. It was big. You thought about it for a second and you honestly thought he was not average.

“Can i say something too?” He nodded while he pulled you back to him. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now but i just wanted to tell you so you don’t have any expectations. I don’t even know if you have any-” You were talking super fast, Eddie had to shut you up with a kiss. “Sorry. I was saying that, i think i still need some time, you know, if you want to have actual sex.”

“It’s alright. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to here”

“But i really wanted to do this. To help you here.” You said running your hand from his chest to his lower belly and his cock twitched. You wasn’t expecting that to happen “Is this normal” He nodded and giggled

“Are you sure you want to do it? You know, i’m not proud to say it, but have jerked off before. Plenty of times actually. If you’re not comfortable doing it, it’s not a problem for me to do it by myself.” It was melting your heart in the way he was talking to you. Caring about you.

“Yes i am! I’m just… insecure about it. I don’t know how to-.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you how, alright?” It was you time to nod you head. “A’right then. First thing, we need it to be wet, so you’ll have to spit on you hand.”

You hesitated but gathered a good amount of saliva on your mouth and spited on your hand.

“That’s right. Very good. Now you can wrap your hand around it” You just didn’t know where to. Was he talking about the tip or the base. You went for the tip.

Groaning low, he cleared his throat “Good girl. Now you can just make some circles around the tip and then go down.” You did what you were told to and that seemed to work. Your foreheads, that were glued to this time, separated a little before he came back. Both of you looking at your hand moving around his red tip leaking pre cum.

“Is that normal?”

“It means it’s fucking good” Even his voice changed. It was getting rougher and lower.

“Can you guide me a little. I’m scared i’ll squeeze you too hard” you said and his hand wrapped around yours.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s better when is tight. I’ll let you know if it’s to much” He let you do it by yourself when you got the right rhythm and grip.

Your hand were moving tightly up and down. You didn’t know if it was there before, you didn’t notice because you were to focus, but his hands were squeezing your tights hard. You could feel your panties getting soaked. How come you were excited by jerking him off.

More of the liquid you saw before came out and you ran your thumb over it. He let out a moan that rambled inside you body.

“Can you, please, go a little faster than that” And that’s what you did. The moan you heard was the first of many others that came along. You had gathered, again, more saliva and thought that it would be nice to be even wetter than it was. So you separated a little from him, looking at his confused eyes trying to read you. You separated enough to bend down and to spit on it again, looking at his eyes roll back, throwing his head back. You came back to your position, proud that you did something good without him telling you.

Your movements got faster than before and he, restless panting, kissed you. You wanted to make him cum hard. So you separated the kiss, kept up the speed, flashing him your boobs. That was the final push for Eddie.

The way he grabbed you and moan at your ear was insanely hot. You watched ropes of cum come of his dick. Your hand were now with white and sticky cum.

“Holy fucking shit!” He panted for the last time and let go of his grip on you. “Are you really sure you’re inexperienced?”

“I might’ve heard some advice about it from some friends” You said getting out of his lap, but he stopped you

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve been up here for a while, i don’t want to hurt your legs. Besides, my hand is a little dirty.” He laughed a little

“Let’s clean up and come back here then.”

That’s what you did. When you came back, he pulled you to his chest and you started to talk.

“You know, i got hard because i had a wet dream about you. Probably because of the movie. But you were in a bikini like hers and, well… you know the rest.”

“Really? What a perv.” You laughed together. You couldn’t be more happy to let this felling out of your chest. You didn’t know for how long you could keep that from him.

“What i mean is that, i really hope you don’t think that i’m doing this just because i was hard and you were there to help. I like you, not in a friend way and, if you let me, i would like to make you my girlfriend one day, if you want. For real. Take you out to dates, stay together doing whatever the shit we’ll want, give you things that i know you will love. This kinda shit.”

“If you want to, i would love to be your girlfriend. And all of the things you mentioned. Well… you know, you already do all of that. The sex is new though.”

He laughed and kissed you passionately

“Great. Now, you’ll get see how much fun we’re gonna have” You spent the rest of your valentine’s day like this. Laughing and kissing each other.

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