Lustful Love (a DNF smut and fluff oneshot book)

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something i saw on twitter.. credit goes to @/lovefordsmp 🫶

Started: Dec. 7
Finished: Dec. 30

Contains: pet names, love bites, light praise- it's mostly just a chapter with plot and story

Words: 3827

alright yes this is based off of the irl cc's.. i've kinda been leaning closer to that recently, instead of using their online personas 😭

///

It started with that silly snapchat.

When they had gotten back home from Post Malone's concert, and Dream was talking about what had happened on his story.

That stupidly cropped picture that depicted his stubbled chin and flexed neck and stupid golden chain.

George hadn't even seen it until he scrolled through his timeline that night and saw the fandom drooling. And, admittedly, he drooled as well. Because how could he not.

The way the thin golden material rested itself against his bare collar bones made the back of his neck hot. It contrasted so beautifully against his naturally-tanned skin. Against the honey dipped hair framing his jaw and nape of his neck. Against the natural pink blush of his skin.

It gave George a feeling he couldn't even explain. It was like he needed something, every time he lay his eyes on that particular picture. But all he could configure was that he was crazy, and the gold chain would never be seen again.

Oh how wrong he was.

//

The Halloween pictures.

It was just barely visible under the silly shirt.

Still resting on his collar bones.

George felt on fire that entire shoot. He spent every chance he got to stare at the jewelry, trying to figure out what his issue was. Why he felt so antsy to reach out and touch Dream like he was a statue at a museum.

Then their fingers grazed and their eyes met, and the fire was suddenly stoked to an uncontrollable blaze. He has to quickly run inside and into his bedroom to avoid anything cataclysmic within their relationship.

A hand meets his face. The skin was burning hot. Worryingly hot. His hand slides down, down, down. His neck to his collar bone to his sternum and further. Chills run through his veins at lightning speed. The cold turns to heat, and suddenly, he's sweating profusely and he needs to get this shirt off. But his conscious mind stops him.

"You've gotta get back to the shoot before they start to suspect something," the voice says. The angelic voice on his shoulder. "A few more pictures and it's all over, George! You can rest!"

But the devil had a voice as well.

"Yes, go out there," it says. "Go out there and tease the dirty-blonde until something happens. Full-fill your fantasies, George."

What fantasies?

George still hadn't figured out what was going on with him. He didn't know what he wanted- didn't even know why he felt like he wanted something. It was such an underlying feeling. Deep in his skin and reaching to his bones to set them alight.

He pulls himself back outside before anything worse can happen. There's no response to the questioned sweat.

//

Now it was fully uncontrollable.

George had padded his way downstairs to the kitchen for his normal breakfast, and the figure in front of the stove turns him to stone.