Crackfic(s)

Kinky

TW // vomit, blood, death, implied cannibalism
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It's not what you think I swear

Dream never had an escort before.
As a first, this one was quite interesting. He was somehow cute in an adorable way and mouthwateringly sexy at the same time. His gaze was disparaging, like he thought Dream wasn't worth his time, but he was evidently worth something, because George was here, after all.

Dream had been a little impulsive, but hey, that recklessness was all part of his charm. At least that was what he told himself in the anxious minutes leading up to a knock on the door. It'd be fun. Yeah.
Seeing George convinced him, because damn, it's fucking George.
Nice to meet you / yeah come in / oh yeah sure whatever you want / fucking kiss me already holy shit.
Dream was simping, to say the least.

He got more and more excited as George placed a chair in the middle of the room and sat him in it, then he pulled out some colorful fabric. Holy shit holy shit this guy's just taking charge but I don't care oh my god do whatever you want to me.
First, George walked around him, carelessly stroking Dream's shoulders and letting him admire the tiny shorts and fishnet tights he was wearing. Dream was definitely into it.
Then George paused behind him and ran his fingers through Dream's hair before lowering something over his eyes. Dream giggled nervously, effectively blinded and a little scared, but still into it, cuz George.
He heard a little chuckle next behind him and George's fingers lifted his chin. Dream smiled, biting the inside of his mouth.
George guided his hands back and tried fabric around them, binding him and his feet to the chair. Dream flinched a little as George tugged at the knots. "Whoa, little tight."
Warm breath tickled his ear. "Want me to stop?" George's voice was low and seductive. God, that accent is so hot.
"N- no."
George's small laugh fluttered again, and his hands left Dream's skin.

He heard a bag being unzipped and the soft pats of items being taken out and put on the hotel carpet.
"What- uh- whatcha doing?" Dream asked, kinda wishing he could see.
"Juuuuuust getting something ready." George was kneeling in front of him somewhere.
"Mhmmm. I might, maybe enjoy it more... if I could see what you're doing?" Dream asked tentatively.
He gasped at the sudden feeling as Geoge sat in his lap. "Shhhhhhhhhh, this is better." One of George's hands was curving around the back of Dream's neck. "Trust me." His voice was right next to Dream's face. Then George kissed him, sweetly and only for a few seconds, but Dream leaned out for more. George leaned back and said with amusement, "This way you can use your imagination." Then the weight left his lap, and cold air stole the warmth.

Dream kept quiet after that.
George kept doing whatever he was doing, pretty quietly, so Dream had a hard time guessing. But he definitely circled the chair a few times, sometimes teasing Dream more.
Then he started talking. "O... great one.."
Dream was a little confused, but into it.
George continued, "...listen and accept this sacrifice..."
Hold on.. what? Is this like his dirty talk?
"...and pardon my offenses. May you be sated by the offering..."
Dream's mouth was dry. "Hey, uh, George? I'm not really... uhhhh... why are you..."
George ignored him. "...Let flesh be consumed in fire and soul devoured."
"Wha-" Dream's question turned into a scream as sharp cold pain pierced his chest and twisted, cutting off the sound.

George watched the body go limp and slowly withdrew the ritual knife.
He sighed, bored, and dipped his fingers in the blood to paint his face. He drew a line of red under each eye and looked around.
"Come on, ya lazy bastard."

A tornado of fire erupted next to him in the little circle of cursed sticks, and a smoking figure stepped out of it.
This one was a demon, obviously, with pointed ears, short horns, and a white band around his black hair.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite victim," he said teasingly to George, who rolled his eyes.