Kréme / Driller Oneshots

Four Night's a Date

Our favourite dysfunctional couple is back 😍

Killer felt as if he'd been dunked into a fish tank. His movements were sluggish as he shifted on the sheets, his vision blurred by sweeping waves that bore resemblance to ripples in water. Breathing was difficult too, chest shuddering in heaving gasps as he ran a hand across his face.

My god-

Above him Dream grunted, his fingers slowly relaxing from around the assassin's throat as he breathed in deeply. The night was finally silent except for the sound of their own breaths, the room hot and stifling despite the cold temperature outside. For a brief moment their eyes met and Killer groaned, managing a wonky smile up at the Guardian who scowled.

"You- you enjoyed that.." He mumbled, a hand raising for a moment to rest on Dream's jaw before his wrist was grabbed and pinned sharply above his head, earning a muted gasp. "Round two already? Ah you're.. really addicted to me."

Scoffing Dream released him, pulling out of the man beneath him to hear a strangled moan followed by silence. "You're the one that's addicted, coming back to my house every other night just to be fucked like some rentable whore."

"And yet you don't pay me." Killer rolled over and cringed at the feeling of his sticky thighs pressing together and rubbing. His body ached, pelvic area sore and spine stinging. Dream really knew how to break him in the best of ways.

"And I never will." The skeleton stood up to clean himself off, eyes flicking over the other as he weakly dragged the sheets over his bruised body. "You're not sleeping here, Killer."

"Mm.. I know.." He murmured, snuggling under it with a loud yawn. "I just wanna rest for a moment, c'mere.."

Arching a brow he stepped round the bed to watch as Killer sleepily reached for him. "We're not a domesticated couple, stop acting so shamelessly." None the less he stepped over to get into his own bed, his weight dipping the mattress slightly as he settled to face him. It was becoming less and less of an odd sight to see Killer naked in his bed with each passing night, but the image of him getting comfy under his covers as if he were his long standing partner of two years just back from work to sleep with him, it was strange and he didn't quite like it.

"Can I stay the night?" It was a sleepy mutter, one he already knew the answer to.

"Not in this bed."

A smile twitched at his lips and he nodded, silvery pupils flicking across his face hazily, studying him. "Yessir, just give me fifteen minutes to remember where my legs are."

"Five minutes." They always played this game, the back and forth pushing with timings and requests. Dream always won in the end of course, he couldn't have the smaller make such requests in his own household. "You're hardly crippled."

"You'd understand if you'd just had your brains fucked out." His tone was sour, though had expected some sort of rude remark anyway. Shifting on the sheets he buried himself under them deeper, letting out a slow breath. Dream's bedroom was simply comfortable, always warm and oddly consolidating in the moments when he managed to weasel his way under the covers for five minutes or so. He knew he'd most likely never be allowed to sleep a full night in the double bed, forced to limp to the spare room on the occasion when he was allowed to stay. Nights like tonight. It was so much nicer than having to stagger all the way back to Nightmare's residence and hide himself in his room from the other's questions. They were already suspicious enough, they really didn't need to see his awful limp and hazy expression as he recalled how Dream (the enemy)  had railed him within an inch of his life.

"It's something I don't care to imagine." His golden pupils studied the smaller skeleton, lingering over the dark bruises that littered his shoulder blades and peaked down to his cherry ecto below. Leaving hickeys on the faux flesh was so fun to Dream, to mark up another's body so carelessly to leave marks that'd last weeks. The main advantage was that marks on an ecto body would disappear once un-summoned to avoid anyone seeing anything, yet when it was formed again the lingering signs of the last session would paint your body in all its glory. He liked to mark Killer, it made him feel like an object, his own little possession.