dreamnotfound oneshots

unmute

"You good?" Quackity chuckled, noticing the way his voice faltered. Dream's eyes fluttered shut as he took a moment to process everything. He was really about to be given head in a call—that is being streamed—by his best friend.

"Of course," Dream cleared his throat, "why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," Quackity made a face on his stream, then laughed it off and continued rambling about how weird Bad's dog, Rat, looked in a specific photo. Dream tried, really hard, to listen in and contribute to the conversation, but with George kneeling between his legs, gently stroking his clothed hard on—he just couldn't.

Dream's eyes met George's half lidded ones, a devilish smile spreading across the brunet's face as he leaned in close to Dream's crotch. Dream furrowed his brows and looked back at his monitor, absolutely hating the way Karl had noticed he stopped moving in-game.

"Dream, where'd you go!" Karl cries dramatically, and George snickers quietly, hearing his loud cries even through Dream wearing headphones. "Come back."

"I-I'm here," Dream stuttered as George's fingers lingered on the hem of his sweatpants, tickling his lower stomach. He made a motion to pull them down, and Dream lifted his hips to help aid the action. Karl sighed dramatically and began beating Quackity's character.

"Karl! Fuck off!" Quackity shrieked and ran in the opposite direction.

George eyed Dream's newly freed cock, precum beading up and dripping down the side of his length. Dream bit back a groan at the look on George's face—the pure want, the pure need.

When George licked a stripe up Dream's length, Dream hurriedly muted himself and let out a low groan, which instead turned into a whine as George removed himself entirely.

"Unmute yourself."

"Fine," Dream frowned and did as told, eyes landing on the taunting 179,332 viewers text on Quackity's stream. Chat flooded with, 'where's dream?' and, 'get his ass!' Dream assumed the second phrase of messages were because of Karl chasing Quackity.

"Oh, my," Dream gasped, a little too loudly, as George ran his tongue over the slit, one hand coming to wrap around the base of Dream's cock. Dream immediately muted out of embarrassment, looking worriedly down to the brunet between his thighs.

"Dream? You good?" Quackity chuckled, confusion lacing his tone. Karl laughed along with him as chat erupted into outraged messages like, 'WHAT?'

"Yeah," Dream reassured once he unmuted. George had taken the tip in his mouth, bobbing his head slowly to take more and more of Dream into his pretty little mouth. Dream gulped, "I'm good. Uh, show me what you're working on."

"We're building a house," Karl piped up, "but it's going slower because I keep killing Q," he added sheepishly, "sorry."

"Yeah, asshole," Quackity snapped, though his expression showed he was joking.

Dream's head jerked down as George moaned quietly around his length. He worked his hand up and down where his mouth wasn't already. Dream had the urge to coo praises, let George know just how good he was doing, pet his hair and leave small kisses here and there. He also had the urge to fuck George's mouth relentlessly, not give a shit about the death grip on George's hair, pulling so hard that it burns, and chase his release.

Dream pushed his mic away from himself, "George, baby," he whispered in a husky voice, biting his lip as George's doe eyes looked up at his green ones, "you're doing good. So, so good."

George moaned again, a little louder this time, and took more of Dream into his mouth. Dream's trembling fingers pressed on W on his keyboard, walking towards Karl as he showcased the house he and Quackity were making.