a/n: And one-shot time. I got inspired by my friend on tumblr that I roleplay with. She rp's Saki whereas I'm Chidori. She really cool.
Well, she was given a wet dream prompt and she gave Chidori one and it was awesome. So, I decided to pt my own spin on what she sent me.
Read and review, please!

Sweet Dreams

Fingers calloused from swinging a sword plays with the lace of your favorite dress. Your hazel eyes look into his grey ones, and you see something that you never saw in anyone else before; love and passion.

You can see that he clearly loves you, cares about you deeply, and even though you're not sure why, you feel safest when you are under his gaze.

At first, he treats you like a princess, chastity kissing your jaw and neck and cheeks. You find yourself liking this gesture a lot more than you thought you would.

After sometime of him playing with the lace, chaste kisses and timid touches to your legs, you find yourself cupping his face with your hands, and press your lips to his gently. In the back of your mind, you are a tad worried he would see your scars from your last cutting. Knowing him as well as you do, you know that he would be upset if he saw you'd been cutting again. Medea's power hadn't been healing as well lately, and that worried you.

He parts from you, and he see your scars. Briefly, a look of worry crosses his face, and you prepare yourself for the worst.

He grabs your wrist, and begins to kiss your scars, a gesture that stuns you. You blink at him, as you feel his lips carefully kissing the scars on your wrist. When he's finished, he pulls back and, his grip on the sheets tightening, he kisses you mumbling something along the lines of, "I'm right here, don't hurt anymore."

Elated that someone finally understands you, you kiss him back, erecting a soft moan from him. He begins to play with the strings and lace on the back of your dress, carefully untying them, revealing your body to him. He becomes more bold and begins to nip you on the neck, moving down to your collarbone. You moan and he smirks, "I love you," he mumbles.

Soon, you and him are bare to each other, his hands are tangled in your blood red hair. You press your face into his shoulder and you beg him for more. More of the sweet touches that intoxicate you, more words of love and passion and kindness, more of this feeling you know that he and only he could give you.

You ask, and he gives. His grip on the bed sheets, yours on his shoulders. "What do you want," he asks you, unto which you can only respond, "I... want all of you."

He smiles kindly, and then-

-and then you awaken in your hospital room, once again in that damned hopital dress you are forced to wear. You know that at any given moment that woman-that loathsome Kirijo-will return to ask you all sorts of questions you don't have the answer too. Silently, you hope that he-the boy you were dreaming about-will come, and maybe he could make you understand why she is doing this.

You sigh, and sit up, grabbing your sketchpad and begin to make him come to life on your page.