The tissue of our dreams

The crowd is screaming. She bursts from her seats and screams and screams and screams... The crowd is satisfied. They revel in the cries of pain from the arena, watch and wait like vultures for the fall of another warrior, eager to see cruelty and cheer him on with all their might, pushing him to the path of violence. His hands are small. But they hold the sword attached to the shackles with a chain tightly. Around are the children like him, frightened, thrown to the public and each other, and not knowing what to do. Many can't even lift their weapons and cry without stopping. Crying for their parents. But Technoblade is not like them. He's a piglin, kids don't come up to him. They Tremble. They are Afraid. He is called a monster. The child of hell, which is almost true - he was stolen from the Nether, for weak people this place is hell itself. But the public wants exoticism and the public gets it. The crowd looks at him like an unknown animal, laughs, and points a finger in his direction. Technoblade forces himself not to be afraid. He's a piglin, he doesn't know fear. Well, or so he convinces himself. And the crowd is screaming. He has a headache and wants to pull out his ears, so painfully tearing his head from the inside with his animal sensitivity to sounds. But he can't. People feel weaknesses and fear. They don't have claws and fangs like him, but they amazingly feel any crack in your spirit and immediately aim at it. They feel your weakness, and they press, press, press, poison, break and trample you until only dust remains. Technoblade tells himself that he needs to survive. To escape, to find a way back to the Nether, not to let people break him. But the guards are watching, and the chains do not allow him to make any movement without attracting attention to himself. So he's fighting. He survives. Children are easy opponents. Few can fight back. Their bodies cover the ground at his feet, and their warm blood flows down his face, his arms, and the blade of his sword. He's not afraid of blood and bodies. It's stupid to be afraid of what's already dead. The blood is even pleasant. It warms his skin, frozen in the Overworld, after the high temperatures of "hell". He fears the reaction of the public, but the crowd is delighted. She goes crazy and greets the winner. But after his hand is raised with a still-clamped sword attached to the shackles with a chain, he is thrown back into the cage, and he basks in cooling drops of blood, waiting for his judgment. He is forbidden to speak. He's just a stupid creature unworthy of talking to people. Monster. Such as he has no place in the Overworld, but the public still craves exoticism. Here it commands the rules and no one dares to contradict them. He is released into the arena again. Then again. And again. And again. He emerges victorious from every fight. And he does not feel sorry for those who fell. Nightmares do not torment him at night and his sleep is calm. He is just waiting for the moment to run, but the arena does not let go, and for the crowd is not enough - it wants more. The crowd gets drunk with blood and corpses. The crowd wants atrocities and cruelty. He gives them that. And the audience is satisfied. Technoblade looks at his hands. They are larger and have the first scars on them. The shackles are still not being removed. Technoblade is afraid that he will forget his voice. He does not sleep till late and speaks his thoughts aloud, remembering the children's tales of his world, its traditions, songs... He remembers everything he once read, whether it's rare books that he manages to steal from the guards from the Overworld or those that he studied at home. The rest of the imprisoned gladiators sometimes complain about someone's chatter at night, but even the guards themselves already think that he's mute and do not find this "someone" who disturbs else's sleep. "Blood for the Blood God!" shouts the crowd as he enters the arena once again "Blood! Blood!" And he gives them what they demand again. The audience is rejoicing – they have a new favorite. Technoblade is silent and inhales the smell of blood. Even people's blood reeks of rottenness. That's disgusting. But he continues. There are more scars on his hands. That's bad. The public doesn't like scars. But as long as they are not on the face, it is ready to turn a blind eye to it. Technoblade no longer wants to marvel at their hypocrisy. By their standards, he's a beast, a monster - the personification of the ugliness itself. And they're all looking at the scars. How silly. He does not remember the faces of his opponents. He doesn't even have time to remember them. He tears them apart, pierces them with weapons, chops off their heads for the fun of the public... but does not remember any of those whom he killed. The dead have no faces. But the faces are in the crowd. And Technoblade remembers each of them. ... Alarming sign. He doesn't remember why he was so eager to go home. Did he even have a house? Not a cage? How long has he been here? Technoblade doesn't know. Does he need to know that? He's a warrior. He has to be able to fight, that's all he needs to know. Or is that what the crowd wants? Blood flows like a waterfall. It still smells rot, but this is the only thing that reminds him of the home with its warmth and he deliberately spills it more and more, causing it to splash on his body, stain the face, and lay down on the skin as a second layer. The crowd is still screaming: "Blood for the Blood God!" He wants them to finally be hoarse. He wonders if they remember his name. He almost forgets it himself. That's why he repeats it out loud at night, looking at the bloodstains on his skin. The crowd is grinning and does not let go, the crowd craves more. But Technoblade has been here for so long... Why aren't they still getting enough? His hands have grown – they are calloused and have a lot of scars on them. The shackles are still pulling with their weight, but he has nowhere else to run. Where to and why? To the Nether? His home has probably been occupied by other piglins for a long time now and no one will take him back - he is almost a stranger there. And his species has never been known for being particularly pitiful. He squeezes his fingers on the handle of the sword. He's a stranger in both worlds. Where should he go? The crowd stretches their lips in a poisonous smirk. Their favorite is not going anywhere and will kill as much as they want for their amusement. Technoblade did not lose a single fight. The audience shouts enthusiastically and greets its winner. The chains are no longer as restraining, but he doesn't know what to do. And he keeps killing. This is what he does best. He sees the Emperor. He, too, grins from his seat and listens with poorly concealed glee to the cries of others. Fights are now popular thanks to the "monster from hell". The emperor is celebrated for his decision to arrange gladiatorial fights. The crowd is pleased and so is he. For his thousand and four hundredth victory in a row, he marks with someone's severed head, presenting it to an eager audience and feeling the warm blood warming his skin. Only he himself can't rejoice. He doesn't know why. He is handed a laurel crown - a symbol of victory. This laurel crown was given and taken away so many times when he threw them out of his cage that he doesn't even pay attention to it anymore. And then the Emperor approaches him. Congratulates him. He teases, remembering that he is not allowed to speak. Calls him by his name, calls him a monster. The Emperor remembers him as a child, he's gloating. He thinks he will get nothing for it. Fool. And the crowd is screaming. It shouts: "Blood for the Blood God! Blood! Blood!" Technoblade decides. And kills everyone. Gives them one last time what they want. The blood reeks even more rotten than in the arena. And the crowd finally quietens down. As it turns out, not for long. Voices haunt, overshadow thoughts, and keep screaming for blood. He wants to howl, but instead, he stabs the Emperor with his sword, finally feeling satisfied too. His crown is covered in blood, as is his cloak, but he does not hesitate to put them on himself. It doesn't feel like a victory, but it's... it's still nice. Almost like freedom tastes. There are no more alive people besides him, but the crowd continues to scream even as they are dead. At times he seems to see their faces over his shoulder. And they all demand blood, demand atrocities and murders. He tries not to listen to them, but it's hard. They drown out his own thoughts, they scream, and sometimes even prevent him from focusing on the reality where he wanders trying to find his place. A trail of blood follows him wherever he goes and people all over the world will soon learn of the Blood God, the most terrifying being in all three worlds. Technoblade blinks. He's back in the arena, the voices are shouting, but it's... different. In addition to the voices, the stands are crowded again, but now there are friends there supporting him and wanting him to win games. Ah yes... Games. It's not a fight to the death. These are friendly combats, just a game. But the voices keep screaming for blood. His opponent is weird. Not the kind he has fought all his life. The blond man with the unusual mask on his face is fast, dexterous, and flexible. He moves so easily as if he were supposed to be some kind of dancer, not a warrior. Technoblade has to work hard to hit him. He mentally curses the piglins' obsession with gold, because his gaze slips now and then to the short golden hair, giving his opponent the advantage. The man is smart, he makes deceptive maneuvers, almost traps, but it still does not help him. He is good with an axe and his blows are surprisingly strong for such a thin body, but... That's not enough. Phil cheers him on from the arena. The rest of the crowd watches their fight enthusiastically. Two of the strongest warriors in battle - a sight absolutely breathtaking. The voices in his head are still screaming about blood. In battle, they can be ignored. He manages to knock his opponent's mask off. For some reason, he is frightened and almost panics because of this, missing blows and not putting all his strength into his own attacks. He keeps trying to cover his face, making unnecessary movements and almost giving victory to Technoblade. He manages to knock him to the ground in just a minute. He looks at his opponent's face. The sword is at the blonde's throat as he stares into the brightest green eyes he has ever seen. Voices scream for blood. Someone in the stands is screaming about his victory. Congratulates. Technoblade can't bring himself to look away from the blond man's shyly smiling face with those uncommon eyes. It's just a game. But the voices scream, and he thrusts his sword, piercing his opponent's neck through, causing the green eyes to fade and a confused expression to freeze on his opponent's face. The crowd screams along with the voices. Some scream with fear and horror, others with jubilation. Blood keeps warming the skin. He wakes up with a mute scream, grabbing the edge of the blanket and keeping himself from hysterics. He gasps and somewhere in his head, the voices rustle, waking up with him and starting to scream for blood again. Technoblade raises his hand and suddenly stumbles upon someone else's body next to him. It's warm and sniffles softly, tucking into his chest and wrapping its thin but strong arms around him. The piglin exhales, but anxiety and terror still hold his heart with an icy vice inside and he fails to calm his breathing. He's home. Really at home. Not in a cage, not in the arena. Home. Dream fidgets a little under his arm and snuggles up against his body as if he's not going to letting him go. He always sleeps like this – clinging to what is dear to him so tightly, as if he is afraid that it will be taken away from him. His husband also went through a lot and has skeletons in his closet that are painful for him to remember. They both agreed to forget about their past and never asked about the things that tore at their souls with claws of pain and fear. Technoblade looks at Dream's golden hair and the nightmare stands painfully bright before his eyes. Dull eyes, confused dead face, cooling body. And voices that rejoice in blood. He releases himself from Dream's grip and walks as quietly as possible into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face, trying to get his breath back. The mirror stares back at him with a tired face with completely black eyes that highlighted his red irises. Probably, for them, he was called a monster. Maybe also for tusks, he doesn't know for sure. But Dream likes his face and he often says that he can shower him with kisses for hours, giving every inch well-deserved admiration, tenderness, and love. And he killed him. In a dream, but who says it can't happen in reality? He clutches the sink hard with his hands and scowls angrily at his reflection, telling the voices to shut up. Who can guarantee him that he will not break under their pressure and kill someone dear to him? That he wouldn't snap and tear them apart, wanting to see how warm their blood would be? Will it give off rottenness? Techno doesn't know. And no one can give him any guarantees. Voices keep screaming. "Blood! We want blood! Blood for the Blood God! Blood!" He groans painfully and closes his eyes, leaning his forehead against the cool mirror. He tries to hiss at the voices and silence them, but they only grow louder, laughing and yelling, longing for someone's death. Maybe his own. "Techno?" Dream's sleepy voice hardly penetrates his mind, drowned out by loud voices. "Techno?" The blonde begins to worry and quickly approaches the piglin, putting his hands on his shoulders. "Are you feeling sick?" He shakes his head negatively and barely audible hoarse: "No. It's just the voices going wild..." Dream takes his face gently in his hands, but his touch makes him want to recoil. He killed him. Killed, killed, killed... The blond man watches caringly and with concern, he leans over to his elongated, animalized ears and whispers something. Techno can't hear what it is because of too loud voices but after that they all mutter something and finally fall silent, falling asleep for a while. Techno looks at him with gratitude, receiving a gentle smile in return. He doesn't know how Dream does it, but he really appreciates the silence in his head. The green eyes in front of him glow with affection, and the piglin gets scared when he sees them fade and turn dead. He squints, not wanting to see it, and sips: "Why did you lose to me?" He waits for a couple of moments of silence and explains. "When we first met. At the games." He slides to the floor and hides his face in his palms. Dream sinks down beside him. "You knocked my mask off." He reminds. "But why did you lose because of that?" Technoblade knows he's crossing the very line they agreed not to touch, the one with the skeletons in the closet, but he needs to know. Dream senses his condition and cuddles against his side, trying to comfort him and give him warmth. This helps calm him down a bit, and he opens his eyes, watching the blond man curl up in his arms, resting the head against his chest and listening to his frightened heartbeat. Fortunately, he doesn't say anything about piglin prying. "I grew up in the End." He confesses quietly, playing with the tips of his long pink hair. "I was quick and nimble, and people spotted me and took me with a group of children in the hope that we could distract the dragon and the endermans long enough while the adults tried to kill the giant lizard and take their treasure. We were just left for dead." He fell silent while Technoblade hugged him in a supportive gesture as if trying to shield him from the world. "They killed the dragon, took its bones and skin, and left. No one was going to take the remaining children alive." Dream's fingers frantically clenched at the tips of his strands. "We were dying of hunger and we were torn apart by the Endermans." "What about the portal?" Technoblade asked softly, running his hand over the blonde's golden hair. "Those bastards closed it." His husband spat out angrily, clenching his palms into fists. "They decided not to let anyone into the End until a new dragon egg hatches. We managed to kill several endermans and we were able to throw their pearls into the portal to the End city. We were desperate for food and water – we were ready to go anywhere. But we didn't expect there to be so many hostile creatures..." Dream sighed and Technoblade put his head on the top of the blond's head, hugging him tighter. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable remembering it. "We realized that we had to close our eyes and not look at the endermans lest they attack. But it didn't help us anyway. There were only four of us left when we decided to make masks, then three when one fell into the void from the chorus tree, then two when the next one recklessly removed his mask, and then there was only me alone when we climbed into the fort for at least some tools." But now it was clear why Dream was known as the best parkourist. You can hardly climb into those fortresses, not to mention reach the upper floors. Plus, the shulkers also didn't let you relax, always trying to throw outsiders into the abyss of the End. "I grew up with a mask instead of a face, trying to survive in the End. And then, ten years later, when the egg hatched and the dragon grew, I went back to the main island and killed those who went through the portal, those who left us to die then. But when I came home to the Overworld, my mom didn't recognize me. She said her son couldn't be a freak. And I left." Dream fell limp strangely in his hands after that. "I was looking for a place in these worlds, met George and Sapnap, then Puffy and everyone else. George convinced me to go to those games, and then you threw off my mask and I got scared. She had been protecting me for so long that I forgot that I might still have a face under her. Well... you know the rest." Of course, he knew. Dream created a new home for himself, his SMP, let the wrong people in, and they tore it apart. He tried to bring things back to the way they were, but his actions only made things worse and it got to the point where he was accused of all earthly sins and problems and had to leave his own home. Again. "Why did you bring that up?"Dream asked, raising his impossibly green eyes to him. Piglin froze. The memory of his Dream's sweet face forever frozen with a confused expression as the sword blade protruded from his throat reappeared in his mind, causing him to clench his arms around the blond man only harder. "Techno?" His husband twisted out of his grip and gently placed his palms on his cheeks, looking into his red irises. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine." He lifts up a little, leaving a warm kiss on his forehead. "We can just go back to bed..." Piglin shook his head negatively. It was wrong to keep quiet about what was troubling him when Dream himself said something he didn't want to go back to. "I dreamed... The way I used to be. A gladiator, a mere entertainment for the crowd. And I killed everyone who was ever released against me. And all my audience that demanded blood. But... " Dream did not interrupt, patiently waiting for his husband to gather his thoughts. "It continues to demand it even after death. And... sometimes I snap, I do what they tell me to do. I'm afraid that someday I'll hurt you because of all this crap. " Technoblade tried to cover his face with his hands again, but the blond prevented him from doing so while still gently holding his hands on his cheeks. "I'm afraid I'll kill you." Dream shook his head softly. "You're not going to kill me." He said confidently. "But..." "You won't." His husband leaned very close to his face and whispered almost into his lips. "And if you try, I'll kick your ass." Piglin chuckled. It was so in the spirit of Dream. "Seriously, Techno. I can stand up for myself." His husband pressed against his lips and quickly looked up into his eyes as if trying to find traces of his worries. His face was here, very near, with lively, not dead eyes, who looked up at him with tenderness and concern, trying to comfort, calm, reassure him that everything would be all right. He couldn't resist. He slid his hands around his waist and then pounced on his lips, returning the kiss, only much more assertively, as if trying to prove to himself that it was real. He touched every available part of his skin, feeling softness under his fingertips and the curves of his dainty little figure. Dream laughed, feeling piglin biting his lips while still careful not to hurt him too much with his tusks. "Do you seriously want to continue this here? On the bathroom floor?" He asked, pulling away from the kiss still giggling. Techno also smiled, picking up on his husband's playful mood, and easily stood up, lifting Dream in his arms and returning to the bedroom. The blond man nuzzled into his neck, watching the piglin smirk again, feeling his body tense. Even if the blonde did not particularly like when he could not see what was under his feet, the piglin could not deny himself such a peculiar manifestation of tenderness. Dream had to be carried in his arms. Technoblade actually wanted to do many things with his husband. Forever holding his hands, kissing his face and every freckle on his skin, showering him with gold, letting him braid his hair all his life, making him smile and cry with pleasure, leaving his marks on his body, beating sweet moans out of him, and watching him sleepily walk in his clothes in the morning. Dream was his, all of him, just as he himself belonged to Dream with all his being. And he will never give him to anyone. And will protect him. Even from himself. The blonde frowned as if he heard his thoughts and reached for him, leaving a quick kiss on his lips while still in his husband's arms. "Stop it." He gently asked, "Don't think about it. Otherwise, I'll have to make you think only of me riding your cock." Techno smirked, leaning into his husband's ear. "If it was a threat, it wasn't scary at all." Piglin lowered his head and bit the skin on Dream's neck, leaving a hickey and listening with pleasure as he exhaled softly, nuzzling into his shoulder. Oh, that's okay, he'll hear more of his moans soon. His husband was always quite loud in bed. And it just blew Technoblade's mind. He would never tire of hearing his husband's voice break into screams as he pushed into his body or left bites on his thighs or shoulders or waist... He lowered Dream onto their bed, immediately kissing the seductive lips and feeling his husband's palms gripping his hair, pulling him as close as possible. He responded to the kiss as insistently as the piglin himself, letting him run his hands over his body, getting his fingers under his wide shirt that belonged to Techno himself, and making a sweet shiver run down his skin from his husband's gentle touches. "Did I mention that I love it when you walk around in my clothes?" The piglin almost purred, smelling his scent on the blond and nuzzling into his neck as he listened to Dream's labored breathing. And they've only just begun... Dream wrapped his legs around his waist and, in a sudden movement, switched positions so that he was now sitting on top of the piglin, arching his back and pressing his whole body against it. Techno's hands immediately found a place on his ass. "And I told you I'd ride your cock." He reminded him, smiling against his lips and running kisses down his chin, neck, and chest. Unlike Dream, who preferred to sleep in his husband's wide shirts and boxers alone, Techno himself slept only in his house pants, not bothering to look for his shirts. Piglin grabbed his husband's hips and switched their posture again, enclosing the blond underneath him. "Maybe another time." He whispered, grabbing Dream's wrists with one hand and lifting them to make it easier to remove his shirt. However, as soon as he lowered them, the blonde's palms immediately rushed to the waistband of his pants, hurriedly trying to rid him of them. Despite the changes in plans, Dream clearly had no intention of losing their playful fight for control so easily. And Technoblade incredibly loved it. The blond reached up, leaving kisses on his shoulder as he himself tried to get his boxers off and sunk his teeth into him, leaving his own marks instead of the ones that had almost disappeared since their last time. Finally getting rid of such an annoying object, Techno immediately slid his palm down his thighs, then between them, spreading his husband's slender legs apart, smirking when Dream caught his breath at his actions. He reached for the kiss again, greedily tapping the lips he loved as if they were the only source of water available to him, and he hadn't drunk in decades. The kiss was sloppy, with teeth, saliva, blood drops, and attempts to lick each other from inside, but Technoblade would be lying if he said it didn't turn him on. They were rubbing up against each other like teenagers with hormonal surges, but they both just didn't care. Dream whimpered quietly into his lips, still trying to pull his pants off with the boxers and piglin took pity on him, lifting up a little and letting him do it, immediately throwing himself back on his tormented and swollen lips as soon as he managed to throw his clothes somewhere in the corner of the room. He reached his palm to Dream's crotch, rubbing his labia, which were already damp, and suddenly remembered how he had just found out that the parkourist was trans. The blond was so embarrassed and frightened by his shock that he was about to run away from him somewhere and endure his shame in silence, but luckily Techno managed to catch him early, almost at the door, keeping him from leaving. Their first sex was just absolutely awesome. Like all the following ones, as well. Well, then, a couple of months later, they got married, and it was the best decision Technoblade had ever made in his life. He didn't even want to think how he'd be living now if he hadn't caught Dream then and let him go. "You're already so wet," He chuckled, kissing his neck, "I haven't even moved on to the most interesting part yet..." Dream, blushing, with his breath lost from kisses and his body trembling with light caresses, turned his head, trying to hide his face in pillows. "No, no, no... that won't do. I want to see you." Techno reached for his lips, forcing the blonde to turn his head back to respond to the kiss. Technoblade gently pushed one finger into his cunt, spreading the warm, wet muscles inside his husband. Dream exhaled stunned and moaned into his mouth, almost melting from the sensation. Piglin chuckled again and pulled away from the kiss, running his tongue in a wide band across his chest to the bottom of his belly. The blond man whimpered and squirmed under his body, wrapping his legs around his hips and pulling him as close as possible. "You're so cute..." Techno almost purred, covering every inch of his stomach with kisses. "Beautiful, lovely..." Dream blushed even more, though it seemed impossible, and clutched his arms around his husband's shoulders as he slipped a second finger through. "T-techno..." He moaned, blindly pressing his lips against his neck. "Ngh..." "Sweetheart, how were you going to ride me when you're a mess only from two of my fingers?" Piglin couldn't help teasing him, though he knew full well that Dream might well have fulfilled his promise-threat by riding him like a seasoned horseman when they had sex in that position. But now he seemed so soft, like malleable clay in his hands - he couldn't help himself. Dream's gaze focused on his face and he squeezed around his fingers, glinting slyly with bright green eyes. "Why don't... y-you give the control to me and see?" He asked, trying to catch his breath. Technoblade pretended to think about it. "Nope." Answered the piglin playfully, pushing a third finger into Dream's cunt, "Let me do all the work today..." Figuring the blond was stretched enough, Technoblade pulled his fingers out, kissing his husband comfortingly as he whimpered at the loss of fullness inside. His own arousal was already becoming almost painful, and piglin put the head of his cock against Dream's entrance, pushing inside. He almost growled at how tight his husband's cunt was, even with all the preparation. And Techno himself wasn't small enough not to feel it whenever they had sex. The blond moaned loudly but so sweetly that he couldn't stand it and began again to shower his body with kisses and bites that left possessive marks, at the sight of which he purred contentedly, licking the little drops of blood on the scarred skin. "T-tee-ah..." - Dream groaned longingly, running his fingernails down his husband's back from overwhelming sensations, scratching. But the piglin liked too much the thought that it would be his husband's marks on his back, and it would be his blood that would get on Dream, mixing their scents and letting everyone know who the blond belonged to. And to whom he belonged himself. That must have been the possessive part of his piglin nature talking somewhere inside, since their scent was already quite mixed up after years of living together, hugging, and kissing. And for people who couldn't smell so sensitively, the rings on their nameless fingers should have been enough of a sign that the blond was busy. He pushed himself all the way in, listening with pleasure to the near-cry of pleasure that came from Dream's lips. He pulled his legs against him only harder, running his hands all over his body. And there were no voices, no dead men - just Technoblade and Dream, giving all of himself to him, but taking as much in return, sharing the same air with him, eliciting growling moans from his chest and drawing with their shared blood on their skin. Piglin began to move with his hands on the bed, just above the head of his husband, who continued to moan so sweetly and so arousingly that he was sure he could cum from Dream's voice alone if he kept calling out his name like that - as if it was something sacred as if he worshipped and idolized him, as if his body, kisses, screams, and moans were an offering to him alone. Only for him. "Dream... my dear... Mine..." The blond man caught his face in his palms, kissing greedily, conveying all the love and tenderness he could, letting him know how much he loved him. "Te-chno..." He sobbed as the piglin moved his hips sharply, thrusting as deep as he could. "H-harder..." Dream looked like he was about to fall apart from all the sensations his body was experiencing. And who is Technoblade to refuse such a request? He growled, clenching his palms into fists near the blond's head and quickening his pace, thrusting harder and faster, to the lewd slaps of skin against skin, to the almost continuous moans and screams of Dreams that he kissed from his lips. His husband trembled beneath him, clinging to his body like a drowning man trying to stay afloat in this ocean of pleasure. Slender fingers slid down piglin's back, and he covered his neck, shoulders, and chest with kisses and bites in the moments when he managed to catch a breath of air in between indiscriminate moans. Techno shifted his pose slightly, pulling himself up and grabbing Dream's hips, almost pulling him on his cock as he drove himself into his body, growling against his lips. There would definitely be marks on the blond's skin from his grip, but the piglin liked seeing his marks on his body too much to make himself stop doing that. Dream pulled his head to him by the long hair, which he liked to braid for him in the morning, and moaned so long and sweetly into his ear that he almost came right at that moment, pressing thin but strong body harder against him. His husband began breathing heavily, clenching convulsively around his cock and Technoblade knew he was close. He sped up, pushing inside, still growling and driving his husband to the peak of bliss, but he was clinging to him, trying to catch his breath and say something. The constant thrusts made him swallow the end of his words, interrupting them with his moans and screams. "Te-ah... Te... I want... in-ah... inside. I... I..." Piglin stopped, looking at his husband in shock. "You... really... want to try?" Dream didn't answer for another couple of seconds, calming his breathing. "Yes, I do." He said, catching his face in his palms and kissing it. "I want to carry your kids." The blond man chuckled as he watched the happy smile appear on his husband's face, then cried out sharply as Techno resumed his movements, literally knocking the soul out of him with his thrusts. Piglin placed his palm on his stomach, stroking the soft skin and making Dream laugh of tickling in between moans. "I can't wait to see you with my little babies." He purred, kissing every inch he could reach. "You're going to be an amazing mother..." Dream laughed again, gleaming happily with his eyes, and broke into a scream again when a particularly hard thrust made him feel how close he was to orgasm. "I... I'm gonna... T-techno..." As he screamed his name, the blond shuddered and squirmed hard around his husband's cock, making him cum inside with a growling moan, continuing to thrust until his seed, every last drop, was inside Dream. They were both breathing hard, but they looked so happy that they were almost glowing. "I love you." The blond said softly after a while, touching his cheek. Techno snuggled into his touch, closing his eyes blissfully. "You have no idea how much." Piglin covered his palm with his own, leaving kisses on it and making them both comfortable in bed, still inside his husband. "You are the one who has no idea how much I love you." Dream chuckled again. Technoblade was ready to listen to that sound forever. "I would bring all three worlds to your feet if you gave me even a hint that you wanted them." The blond man shook his head negatively, reaching for another kiss. "I don't want any worlds. I am happy here, in this house, with you. I don't want anyone else. Just you... and our kids." He smiled and covered the palm of piglin's hand, which continued to gently stroke his stomach, and Techno mirrored his expression, nuzzling into Dream's neck and relaxing, cradling his husband beneath him. The blond snorted laughingly and reached his hands into his hair, gently running the long pink strands between his fingers. Techno purred softly at the pleasure the blond man's slender fingers brought, and then he heard the chuckle over his head again. "You know... You look a little too much like a cat for a piglin." It felt so good and lazy... The voices didn't scream, his husband's warm body was underneath him, and in general, it was so... peaceful. Techno had never felt so happy. And he wished it had never changed. But the sensation of sweat and semen on the skin soon became unpleasant enough to finally raise his head and ask lazily: "Shower and then sleep?" Dream, almost asleep too, opened one eye and nodded. Techno finally pulled himself out of his warm body and lifted him into his arms before he could even stand up, making him wince and clutch at his neck, making a frustrated but very sweet sound. He couldn't help himself again, and to Dream's laughter, he started kissing him until they reached the bathroom. Techno had to do all the work of flushing out their bodies there, as the blond clearly felt too tired to move. But later, as they settled back on the bed, throwing off the dirty sheets, his husband somehow found the strength to cuddle him and lay comfortably on his chest, snuggling into him with his whole body. "If anything," he muttered, not lifting his head from Techno's chest, "wake me up, I can always chase away your bad dreams." Piglin smiled softly and ducked into the golden top of his husband's head, muttering something in approval. He didn't even doubt it. No amount of voices and other bullshit can get him to hurt his family. Techno hugged Dream tightly and quietly closed his eyes, falling asleep to the blond man's soft sniffling. He slept like a dead man.