TW: praising, anal sex, swearing, overstimulation, rough sex
top dream
bottom george
The office meeting room felt tight, thick.
Though he sat at the head, and everyone else rowed down on both sides of the mahogany table should be feeling these nerves— it was Dream who always fell victim to anxiety.
"So." Dream cleared his throat and peered back at the stocks photo behind him. Sales, sales were up yet they stayed at a strict, firm line which could only lead Dream to believe they would soon fall so quick none of them could stop it. "These are each vehicle sold." He sold building machines, like bulldozers and excavators.
The business was normally all good— and since he was head CEO, he made the most.
"Looks good, right?" Dream wiped off the sweat from his palms onto his thighs.
The people around the room mumbled in agreement; a pretty lady tugged her ruby red lips upward.
"That's true. It is good. Business is high, up by 42% from last year, actually. However, there is an issue." Dream stood up, and began pointing at the red arch on the screen with the tip of his ballpoint pen. "You see how here there is a swift increase of sales, then it flattens out and is only slowly creeping up?"
The rooms aura shifted; Dream adjusted his maroon tie.
"Nine times out of ten, that line will have a sharp decrease down." Dream stood up straighter, and the anxiety slightly fizzled when he realized he was in charge. He was the boss.
"And what do you want us to do about it?" The same pretty lady, which Dream remembered her name was Erin, spoke up.
"I need you to figure this out. What do you guys think we need more of? More advertisement, better sales peo—"
"Why don't you figure this out? Tell us what to do, don't make us figure it out." Erin narrows her eyes and her plump lips curled into a frown.
Dream's adam apple bobbed and he felt his anxiety slip back into his body. "I-I just want your opinions on it. What're we thinking?"
The people in the room swiftly murmured to one another, their eyes flickering and wandering all throughout the room.
"Tell us what to do. You're our boss, ain't you?" Erin scoffed.
"I-I am—"
"Then act like it."
Dream could fire her. Easily. But compared to every other sales associate, hers were up by at least 10% to the closest person, so firing her would be a stupid mistake, especially over a silly argument.
"W-Well your guys o-opinions matter too and I just—"
Erin snickered, and whispered into a boys ear who was next to her. Roger. It was Roger; Rogers grin grew slowly and low chuckled slipped from his thin, chapped lips.
"What?" Dream asked, tilting his head.
"Oh, nothing. . ." Erin smirked at Dream, her lips tinted with poison.
"Tell me. I-I don't appreciate conversations between just two people— we are a team here."
Erin flickered her eyes to Roger, who turned his head away and stared down at his sausage fingers in his laps. "It wasn't important, really."
"I'd like to know."
"Just something about a five year-old. . . it really doesn't matter."
"This is my last time asking you Erin, before consequences will be faced."
Erin bared her pearly teeth. "I said you have the ability to decide as much as a five year-old does."
Dream wrinkled his brows, and stumbled back to his chair.
The room watched him with close eyes, watching every mistake he made, every breath he took, every blink he made. "T-That's no way to talk to your. . . your boss."
Erin didn't reply to that.
"You know what? Let's all take five." Dream didn't wait for everyone's reply. He stormed out the office room, shutting is harshly as he heard Erin giggle and began whispering with what was probably Roger again.
Five minutes, Dream, get your shit together!
Be mature.
Be mature.
Be mature.
Text George, George makes you happy. Be mature for George. Make money for George.
Dream pulled open George's messages.
me: hi baby, how was lunch with Jack?
Jack was some old friend from were George used to live. He was dropping by, and decided on seeing George, and their lunch ended around an hour ago.
No reply.
me: baby?
No reply. Not even a read receipt was sent.
He tried calling George, no reply.
He was probably taking a nap, or still with Jack. Dream your five minutes almost up— go back. Talk to them. Talk to Erin.
As Dream prowled back into the office room, Erin's smug smirk had been wiped off and a bit of his anxiety left his system.
Maybe she wouldn't be so difficult.
"Sorry for the pause." Dream cleared his throat. "As I was saying, I need to know the cause of his problem in order to solve it. Is it an advisory issue? Do I need to talk to the ad committee?"
A handful of people nodded, and hummed in m agreement.
"Or are we just being lazy?"
Tim, a sales person, began speaking and giving ideas, but Dream didn't listen very well.
His phone buzzed.
He pulled it out, and saw that George finally replied to his messages.
georgeee: sorry, i was getting this on. is it pretty? *insert two images*
Dreams breath caught in his throat.
In the image, George wore white, opaque, thigh highs with lacy ruffles at the top of them. Matching that was a similar material shade thong, with a pretty white bow perched at the front, and he had a thin cover of white material over his torso.
It was long, and lacy, and slipped on like a jacket, except George had pulled back the stomach part to reveal more of his ivory skin.
Both were taken from the floor mirror in the twos bedroom, but one George was facing the mirror and the other George was flipped around, giving Dream the perfect view of his plush ass and thighs.
Dream gulped and widened his eyes at the images.
me: you look so gorgeous, my love
georgeee: i'll be upstairs when you come home, then
Dream had a faint smirk on his face, and he could hear the man was running out of ideas as his voice slowly trailed off.
"What do you think, sir?"
Dreams lips slightly parted. "T-That's a wonderful idea, James. Can you explain it once more for the. . . the people who may not have heard?"
"We could expand our business. Hire more people— especially a people person. If we keep hiring quiet spokesman, we'll never get anything sold since they can't get the point across."
"Do we have enough hiring spots? We can't just hire people, James." Erin said through gritted teeth; Dream rolled his eyes.
"Yeah." Dream turned to her. "But we can always lay some people off, so I'd watch your tone."
He could feel his pants become increasingly tighter as George came back to his mind.
"Fine." Erin crossed her arms.
"Good. Is that all for today, then?" Dream began packing his briefcase, throwing papers and folders and files randomly into it.
George, George, he needed to get home to George. Now.
He didn't mean to speed, but he swerved past corners and only slowed down when a cop appeared in his rear view mirror for a second before it turned and headed after some other car.
Dream sighed in relief.
His finger pattered on the steering wheel. The light that was red taunted him dauntingly, and all he could think of was how gorgeous George looked in that lace.
It curved over this thighs perfectly, and his pale stomach was exposed, just begging to be marked. He must've known— known Dream was stressed.
He had been acting different the last few days.
Barely eating, not being talkative— just common denominators of stress.
And no matter how many back massages George gave Dream, or how many times he made spaghetti (which was Dreams favorite), nothing cured him of stress. Neither would this- but it was rather fun, wasn't it?
As he pulled into his driveway, he grabbed his briefcase and hurried into the silent house. "George? Honey?"
"Upstairs— like I said." George cooed from the top of the stairs, giggling a bit before rushing back off into their bedroom.
Dream followed him in pursuit. When he reached for the silver door handle and slightly pulled the door open, George slammed it shut.
"George—"
"What's the magic word?"
Dream grumbled a swear beneath his breath, muttering out a small 'please'.
"Nope."
"Please."
George giggled again from behind the door. When Dream heard the bed frame creak, he opened the door and didn't give George time to react before prowling over him and pressing kisses all over his flushed face.
"How was work?" George tilted his head back so Dream could mark his neck.
Dream shrugged. "Boring."
"Stressful?"
"It always is."
"That's what I'm here for."
"You don't get rid of my stress, Georgie." Dream kissed his jaw.
George narrowed his eyes. "I stay home all day. I clean, and cook, and order all the groceries, and take care of our cat, and then you come home and fuck me senseless almost every night. That's gotta mean something, right?"
Dream kissed him on his forehead. "I guess you're right."
"I always am."
"Oh shut up." Dream chuckled, and tsked his tongue.
George arched his back; Dream ran a rough hand over the curve and gratefully cupped his ass, kneading it as he than flipped George onto all fours.
"How's that?" Dream pulled the string of the thong away from George's hole.
"G-Good."
Dream pulled George's ass apart with two sturdy hands, and ran his tongue around George's hole.
"Mmph—"
"Don't squirm—"
"Jesus!"
"George—"
"Fuck I—"
"George, stop squirming!" Dream barked up at George.
George whined, though he stopped rolling his hips. "M-Mmph— hard, hard not too." He whimpered.
His fail hands clutched the bedsheets, which had been washed by him that day. "Hm." Dream said. He pressed his tongue flat against George's hole, slowing pushing in before pulling back out.
"A-Aah! Fuck—" George bounced his ass back into Dream.
Dream gripped harder onto George's ass, narrowing his eyes at George's head which was thrown back. "Please— oh my God!"
George arched his back.
"Mmph—" George whimpered. His hands ran all over the bed, pulling up the bedsheets as he let out soft moans. "C-C'mon Dream!"
Dream pulled away. "What?"
"Can you just start?" George glared back at him. "I know you want too."
"Yeah, you're right." Dream spat on George's hole, pushing in his thumb.
"A-Aah! Dream—M'Already stretched."
"Huh?"
"I-I stretched myself. Before you came home."
Dream pushed in two fingers. "Hm." George whined at the sudden fullness; it's not that he was complaining, though.
"So you're ready?"
"Mhm."
Dream shrugged, and quickly unbuttoned his work shirt, tossing it onto the floor below.
"Can you hurry up?" George whimpered slightly.
"Mmm. . ." Dream stripped his work pants and then his boxers. He pushed away George's cover up since it fell back over his ass, and Dream quickly aligned himself. "I can."
"Dream," George pushed himself down so his chest was flat on the bed, his arms outstretched ahead yet his ass was still perked in the air for Dream. "Just start. I know you want too."
Dream pushed in just the tip. "Well I know that." George threw his head back. When Dream stayed still with only his tip inside of George, George understood what he had to do since clearly Dream wasn't going to.
He was so needy, he didn't even mind doing all the work.
George began sliding himself up and down Dreams dick; he release all sorts of whimpers and whines that Dream loved. "Fuck—" He dropped his head.
"What the hell are you doing?"
George continued bouncing. "W-Well— you're taking too damn long! So, I-I decided to do this shit myself."
Dream narrowed his eyes down at George.
There was no verbal reply, but it was clear to George that Dream didn't mind George doing the work for once. "Whatever." Dream sat his hands on George's hips. However, he didn't move them, just allowed them to be dragged along with George's body.
"Mmph— fuck!" George's legs shook.
"Need help?"
"No, s-shut up!" George glared back at him.
Dream narrowed his eyes. "C'mon, you seem tired and I'd rather just do it—"
George scoffed. "No! You're just gonna— gonna play with me instead of doing anything, I-I'll do this myself."
"George, I don't appreciate the attitude."
"But—"
"Isn't this for me? Being stressed?" Dream bent down, and began kissing along George's spine.
George whimpered. "M-Mhm. . ."
"Then why aren't you letting me do what I want? You're being bad."
Coming down to a slow stop, George turned back and looked at Dream. "I-I'on wanna be bad. . ."
"Mhm."
"W-What should I do?"
"You know what you should do."
George flickered his eyes over to the bedroom door, then back to Dream. "Okay." He pulled himself off of Dreams dick, and swapped onto his back, and then lifted his legs up so they hooked over Dreams shoulders. His hands were above his head with their wrists pressed together so Dream could hold both hands together with one hand. "Is this what you wanted?"
Dream smirked. "Aw, you know me so well." He grabbed George's wrists, and held them tightly together, giving George no space or room to squirm.
"Mmph—" George gasped as Dream slowly entered him. "—Fuck, Dream- no matter how horny you are do you always have to tease me?"
Dream slammed fully in. "What was that?"
"A-Aah!" George threw his head back. His nails clawed at the tops of Dreams hands.
"Stop it," Dream squeezed George's hands, and began thrusting into him; George didn't stop the scratching. "George— I said stop it." He said through gritted teeth.
"Oh my God!" George groaned. His nails buried deeper into Dreams knuckles, and Dreams eye twitched.
"Quit scratching me, George."
George whined.
He didn't mean too, but he was in his own headspace right now— everything Dream told him went in one ear and out the other.
"Oh for fucks sake—" Dream dropped George's hands, and forcefully shoved his pointer and middle finger into George's mouth. "—Stop scratching me!" The fingers slipped down his throat woke George up, and he slightly gagged before adjusting and wrapping his hands around Dreams wrist.
He swirled his tongue along Dreams fingers. Though his moans were muffled from the digits in his throat, some of them still slipped out and vibrated against Dreams fingers. "Mmph—"
George jammed his nails into Dreams wrist.
"George—!" Dream shouted. Not loud enough to scare George, but loud enough to snap George back into reality. "—Stop scratching me, now." George released the grasp instantly and instead clutched normally onto the wrist. "Good boy."
A whimper sauntered out of George. He slightly bucked his hips, whimpering at the contact.
Dream pushed his fingers down farther into George's throat.
When he felt George gag, he pulled them out, and allowed George to catch his breath. George panted; not only was his breath harsh, moans still slipped out as Dream continued his rough slams into George.
"Oh my— mmph! S-So full- a-aah!"
"You're doing so good for, Georgie."
"H-Helping you?"
Dream chuckled, and kissed George softly on the cheek, causing George's legs to bend higher up so Dreams dick buried deeper into George. "Mhm, you're helping me."
"L-Less stressed? Feel— fuck, feel better?"
"Mhm." Dream kissed George's jaw now.
The tip of Dreams dick slammed directly into George's prostate; George threw his head back. His hands were above his head, one on the right side, one on the left, and Dream took them in both of his so he could roll his hips easier into George.
"Oh my— mmph!"
After a particularly hard slam, George finished. However, Dream continued his harsh slams into George, instead just shushing George softly whenever he began whining.
"Shh, baby," Dream brushed some hair out of George's face. "Just hold on for me, will ya?"
"B-But it hurts—!"
"Well then maybe—" Dream bent down farther; George's back curved more, and his legs stayed hooked on Dreams shoulders. "—You shouldn't of sent me those photos in the middle of my work meeting."
George whined. "H-Hurts—" It felt like he had eaten too much, or as if he was being punched in the stomach. But, in such a bizarre way, it felt. . . good. Satisfying.
"Real bad?"
George squirmed, and began clawing at the bedsheets. "Y-Yes—"
"Do you need to stop?"
He pondered the question asked to him for a quick second, before whimpering and shaking his head. "N-No— I wanna be good, g-good for you."
"Good boy." Dream cooed into George's ear.
His slams sped up, and also gained more power as the twos skin slammed. George's ass reddened from it; so did Dreams thighs.
"Fuck— a-aah!"
"I'm close, you're doing so good for me, my love." Dream's hands dropped George's, and they moved over to George's waist. He clutched onto it as he continued thrusting into George; though difficult too, he tried to ignore George's whines and cries of both pain and pleasure.
After another hard slam, Dream finished, along with George for the second time. George let out faint moans and whines as Dream thrusted into him a few more before he pulled out, allowing George's legs to fall back down. "Oh my God, Dream—" George panted.
Dream reached over onto his nightstand, and grabbed a wad of tissues in order to clean George and himself up before discarding the trash into a nearby trashcan.
"Can you grab me a shir—"
"No. I want you to stay in this." Dream reached down and grabbed his own boxers. He pulled them on quickly before returning to being prowled over George. Dream began pressing more kisses onto George's neck, leaving dark hickeys.
"In this? A lingerie set?"
"Yes, my love. You look so pretty."
George blushed, and nodded. "Okay. Whatever you want."
Dream laid down beside George, and pulled the covers over them.
"See Dream, I do help you relax."
Dream chuckled and kissed George on the cheek softly. Soft enough where George blushed and scooted closer to him, wrapping his arms around Dreams waist. "Guess so."
"So, what else happened at work today?"
"Oh you know," Dream sat a hand on George's ass, the other flat on his back. "Erin constantly on me, it's whatever— I managed to shut her up this time."
"You know you can fire her right. . ?"
Dream sighed, and shrugged softly. "Yeah, I know. But I feel bad."
George smiled. "You're a good guy, Dream." A soft kiss was pressed onto Dreams lips.
"I try."
"Goodnight, hun."
"It's 6:30."
George giggled. "I don't care. I'm tired." Another kiss.
"Fine, goodnight pretty boy."
sorry rlly bad chapter i have no motivation
3193 words