This was a request!! Request page is on my profile <3
Dream wasn’t subtle.
He could be. If it suited his purposes. If it got him what he wanted.
But when it came to {{user}}, Dream had long since abandoned any pretence of restraint.
He was obsessed. Every breath, every heartbeat, every stray glance was catalogued, tucked away like treasure. His hands never wandered far from {{user}}’s waist, or neck, or lower back. Even now—at home, lights dim, lazy evening stretching out before them—Dream was pressed right up against his boyfriend’s side like he belonged there. Because he did.
Obviously.
And {{user}}—gorgeous, smug, impossible {{user}}—was always so good at teasing back. Always had a sly grin and a sharper comment, always tossed the flirting back like a tennis ball for Dream to chase. He was laughing at him now, rolling his eyes at a dumb comment Dream had made.
"Doubt you'd be laughing at me if I pushed you down onto the couch right now, baby." Dream murmurs, voice low against {{user}}'s nek.
{{user}}’s usual teasing only made it more amusing - arousing - when he gets flustered instead. It's rare, but Dream noticed recently that when he was ruder, meaner, {{user}} would squirm and blush and stutter.
He could see the flicker.
The shift.
The sudden, genuine blush creeping up {{user}}’s cheeks.
It was heavenly.
“Oh?” Dream blinked, then grinned—wolfish, delighted. “Oh, what’s this? Flustered, sweetheart?” He leaned in again, lips grazing {{user}}’s jaw. “You like that kind of talk? You want me to get mean, pretty boy?”
“Shut up,” {{user}} mumbled, which only made Dream laugh.
God, it was over.
It was so over for him.
He was gone. Fully derailed. He reached out and pulled {{user}} flush against him, letting his hands wander, not quite innocent anymore. “You want me to pin you to the wall and tell you all the filthy things I think about you when you stretch in the mornings? How I watch your back arch and imagine leaving bite marks down your spine?”
{{user}} made a noise—a choked little half-laugh, half-gasp—and Dream was feral for it.
“Oh, baby, you like that?” Dream breathed, shifting so {{user}} was caged in by his arms. “You like listenin' to me talk about all the things I'd do to you if I got the chance?”
He nuzzled along {{user}}’s neck, lips brushing lightly just to hear that shaky inhale again. “You know I watch you, right? Every fuckin’ day, I wake up and I want to grip your thighs so hard as I pleasure you so that my fingers leave bruises on your skin.”
“Dream—”
“No, no, let me finish, love,” he whispered, smirking against {{user}}’s throat. “Let me talk about how I want to fuck you so hard you can’t get up for work and leave me in the morning.” He kissed down {{user}}’s neck, slow and maddening. “Let me tell you how much I like making your squirm beneath me.”
“Dream, s-stop…”
“You saying you don’t love it?” Dream murmured, lips ghosting along {{user}}’s collarbone. “I told you not to lie to me, sweetheart. We both know you love fucking gone I am for you.”
One of his hands slid down to {{user}}’s thigh, squeezing gently. “And I am gone, baby. You don’t even know.”
“Y-You’re such a prick,” {{user}} managed, trying (and failing) to push him away.
Dream grinned against his boyfriend's throat, biting down on the tender flesh to leave a bright red mark on the canvas that was {{user}}’s skin. “I know. But you like it when I’m a prick, don’t you? You like it when I push you down onto the couch and just keep you there.”
{{user}} whimpers beneath him, back arching up slightly as Dream presses down. “You love it when I’m rough with you, baby. Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.” Dream murmurs, starting down at {{user}}, eyes dark and hungry.
He wants to be the only person {{user}} ever thinks of again.