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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days

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followed (part one)

words: 1.2k

warnings: stalker (not rafe), violence, rafe beats someone up but the guy is a creep

followed (part one) / accused (part two)

“hey.” you whisper, ducking under the man's outstretched arm as he looks at the various snacks on the shelf. “pretend you know me, please. i'm being followed.”

rafe doesn't really question it, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and smiling down at you, just as a man turns down the aisle.

“there you are, baby!” you put on a big smile, eyes still wide, telling the truth of your feelings as rafe can see how nervous you are. “been looking all over the store for you!”

rafe can see the guy, overdressed in lots of layers of jackets, physically deflates when he sees you're no longer alone and defenseless.

“sorry, babe. i got caught up with the snacks.” rafe laughs, grabbing a random bag off the shelf and dropping it into his basket.

“its okay.” you shake your head. “just happy we're back together.”

rafe keeps you close to him, arm wrapped around your shoulder as the man moves away. you let out a sigh of relief, head tipping forward to rest against rafes chest.

“thank you.” you say before straightening up and taking a step back.

“no problem.” rafe could tell how pretty you were from the moment he saw you, but now that you're not riddled with nerves, he can see that you're gorgeous. he shifts the basket to his other hand as he reaches out. “im rafe.”

“y/n.” you shake his hand, palm still slightly sweaty.

“let me stick with you while you shop, yeah? just in case he comes back.”

“oh my god, i would really appreciate that.” you lay a hand over your chest. “i dropped my basket a couple aisles back when he turned down the same row.”

rafe follows you, keeping his head on a swivel. he knows he can take the guy, he looked on the older side from the brief glance rafe had at him, but that doesn't mean he wants to get surprise attacked.

“i don't have much more that i need to grab.” you explain to rafe, walking just a step in front of him, causing you to turn down the aisle first.

you gasp and back up into rafe when you realize the same man is now hovering over your basket, waiting on you to return to it.

“i got you.” rafe whispers, dropping his basket, causing it to clatter against the floor. the man glares and doesn't back off like rafe was hoping he would.

“back away from my girls shit.” he growls out, dropping his voice.

“oh yeah, what are you gonna do? beat me up and then get arrested? there's cameras everywhere.” the man says, taking a step forward.

rafe is quick to reposition himself to stand in front of you. “and then those same cameras will see you following my girlfriend all over the store. get out before i beat your ass.”

the man looks rafe up and down before rushing away, hopefully finally actually leaving.

“shit.” you let out a whine, causing rafe to quickly whip around to face you, seeing tears welling up in your eyes.

“hey, you're safe now.” rafe says, placing his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing them. when the tears break loose and slide down your cheeks, he pulls you forward into his chest, allowing you to sniffle until you've got yourself under control.

“sorry.” you laugh awkwardly, wiping away the tears before realize you'd left most of them as a stain on rafes shirt.

“it's okay.” he says. “men who mess with women and kids are the worst.”

you nod in agreement. “i don't know how to thank you…”

“you can thank me by not wasting your tears on that creep, alright?”

you nod as rafe grabs your basket, not handing it to you as he picks up his own. “what else do you need to get?” he asks.

“um, just some snacks.” you follow rafe as he confidently walks through the store.

you finish your shopping together before heading to the checkout. rafe doesn't even let you argue as he pays for what you have in your basket, a little shocked by how much he makeup costs, but he knows it won't dent his bank account.

“shouldn't i have paid for you since you helped me?” you ask as you walk out of the store, glad that the parking lot is lit up with street lights, as the sun has set.

“nah.” rafe just smiles at you. “now where's your car? wanna make sure you get in safe.”

you lead him towards your jeep, watching his muscled arms as he puts your couple bags into the trunk.

“thanks so much. i… i don't even want to think about what would have happened to be if you weren't there.” you take a deep breath.

“hey, don't worry about it.” rafe watches you climb into your car, giving him a small wave before taking off. rafe watches you leave, turning out onto the street before walking to his car.

hes about to pull out of his parking spot himself when he sees a beat up sedan sat in the darkest spot of the lot, right under a burnt out light. rafe squints into the darkness, letting out a growl when his suspicions are right.

he leaves his car, not bothering to sneak as he walks up and taps on the window. the man is disgruntled but rolls it down.

“there's cameras in the parking lot too.” he says.

“yeah, but it's pretty dark right here.” rafe looks around before reaching into the open window, holding the man by the collar while his other fist pummels into him, hitting his face over and over until it's a bloody, bruised mess.

“that'll teach you to never mess with poor defenseless women ever again, fucking creep.” rafe isn't finished yet though as he spits onto the man, taking the keys out of the car and tossing them away, leaving the man to have so scrounge on the ground for them later.

“shit.” rafe turns around to see your car is back in the parking lot, your eyes wide as you watch him from the drivers seat.

rafe wipes the blood off his knuckles onto the guys shirt before walking over to your jeep.

“im sorry you had to see that.” rafe says as you step out, piece of paper in hand.

“it… its okay.” you shake your head. “im glad you did that.” you're not one for violence, but the creep had it coming.

“are you okay?” rafe asks, not sure why you came back, but he's glad to see you again.

you stick your hand out, giving the paper to rafe. “came back to give you my number. can't believe i left without doing that.”

“ah.” rafe smirks. “seeing me beat up that guy didn't make you change your mind?” he sticks the paper into his pocket, knowing he's going to pull it out the second you're gone to save it to his phone then memorize the digits.

“not at all.” you admit, looking down at your feet. “if anything, it makes me like you more.”

“dinner this friday?” rafe doesn't want to wait to plan out your date, needing to know before letting you go when he will see you again.

“that's too far away. how about tomorrow?”

rafe is surprised how forward you are, but grateful for it as he nods. “ill text you.”

“ill be waiting.”

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 2 days

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Our second DCXDP au has Danny hiding in Gotham with the cores of Dani, Dan and two other clones who survived. They need DNA to be able to reform but it's in a ‘it doesn't have to be now’ kind of way. Not just Danny’s DNA but another to to balance out their genes.

They'll become babies and be raised up. Dani was melting but forced Danny to promise he wouldn't find someone right away he'd take his time to fall in love first. Dan did the same and the twin clones did to.

Danny decides it's a good idea but keeps the cores safe. He ran to Gotham in the DC universe because the GIW were to close to killing him. His parents, Jazz, Sam, Grandma Ida and the Foleys all followed. Grandma Ida is running some gang down in crime alley having a blast with Sam, constantly trying to hook Sam up with Jason who Ida is in a turf war with. Tucker is happily running a tech company that will soon outstrip it's competitors., his parents helping Jazz is terrifying in Arkham as she tears our corruption.

Maddie abd Jack found out about the Leauge of Assassins and went: study time. Danny, knowing its corrupted ecto and also not wanting to deal with assassins lets then have fun. So Ra’s is dealing with liminal mad scientists who keep stealing the Pits and also have uncovered two Damian clones they kidnapped. Their kids now.

But we’re focusing on Danny who is in college and living a peaceful life which is what he wants most of all. The cores of his kids are always on him just in case and he's casually dating. It's great. He can just be Danny the guy who is super into space and plans on being a mechanic for the watch tower.

Then one day Two-Face attacks the cafe he's at (because of a sale it was having where it was two for one on some sort of new treat). Danny has to run for his life. He gets hit and the bag he has the cores in is harmed. One falls out and he freaks, diving for it. He grabs it just as Black Bat swoops in to save him. She flies him up to a roof.

They land and then she moves to grab one of the cores that fell out. Danny gets antsy but it requires skin contact so it should be okay, she's wearing gloves after all. It'll be fine!

On her part, Cass is wondering why her hand feels tingly but there isn't anything malicious in the mans face so she thinks it might just be the orb she caught being weird. She swings off, noting that she has a hole in her glove.

Danny goes home and doesn't think about it until he realizes that the core the hero touched is growing. And it's getting sick without the touch of its other parent.

Cass on the other hand feels strange. Like she's pulled somewhere. She instantly thinks of the guy and alerts the others to him. They hunt him down to find him on a rooftop. He's surprised to see them, holding an Orb that’s glowing.

“I thought it would take longer…” the man says. He shakes his head. “Umm… rip the band-aids off- I'm nottotslly human.”

The Batfam kinda pauses cause he's giving this info up for free. Cass is eyeing him closely. It's just her, Batman and Robin in front of the man. Everyone else is listening in or in the shadows.

“I ran away from my home dimension cause they were hunting me down to kill me because they believed I was non-sentient. You know sad trench- I mean, John Constantine? I think he put in the word we’re friendly,” the man babbles. The orb shines. “Okay, okay. I need to… Black Bat did your glove have a hole in it when you touched this?”

Cass hums but nods. Barbara has Constantine on the line (and no one wants to know the blckmail she has to make him answer) and he's confirming it's a friendly.

“Okay, okay… this is a Core and it's the heart, soul, brain, everything of an ecto-entity like me. And it… it’s my child. But it needed a second set of DNA. It's fine dormant, it doesn't hurt the baby. But it…” the man swallows. “Skin touch.”

Cass knows in a second what he's leading up to. She touched the orb. It needed DNA.

That's her baby in his hands.

Que the chaos.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #Cass and Danny get together #she spends a lot of time with him for the baby’s health #also it's Dan #slow burn time #Bruce is blue screening cause his daughter is having a baby #the bets did not account for Cass who is ace as fuck #Alfred even lost #Fenton parents roll in with their clone sons talking about stealing them #Bruce has a headache

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mazamba · 2 days

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Baby Steps

Dani slurped her milkshake noisily as she shifted back to the visible spectrum, interrupting the argument between the so-called adults. It'd been a hectic week, she'd been part of Young Justice for less than a week, yet they already had a crisis in the form of a maybe-evil clone.

"Do you mind?" growled Batman.

"Try a different word."

Superman raised an eyebrow.

""Father" is too heavy, try "brother" instead," she continued, "I mean, Phantom's technically my dad, but I don't call him that. He's my 'cuz!"

"What we call each other isn't the problem."

"No, but it's less scary isn't it? Danny was fifteen when I met him. Imagine if I'd called him dad. He'd have freaked out!"

Batman nodded, seeing the logic.

"And even then, I kinda needed some time to put my head together, you know?" she rattled on, floating crisscross applesauce in midair like a balloon in the breeze, "It's the real reason I left the first time. Maybe some time apart would be good for them? Microdose in family!"

"What we call each other isn't even half of the problem," sighed Superman, "you're a clone too, right? You once told me it was weird to know things you didn't remember learning. Clones are made and programed, sometimes with sleeper programming."

"True, but that's what we're here for," she figured, "I mean, I can't take you on, but Superboy's a different story. If he does go nuts, he has the whole Junior League to take care of him."

"I can't ask you to put yourself in danger."

"You're not, I'm volunteering," figured Stray, finally floating down to the ground, "look, Phantom and I work because we took the time to figure out who we are to each other. You two need time to figure out what you are, not get shoved together and hope for the best."

Batman grunted.

"This is a shock, it was a shock for Danny too. Sa- A mutual friend told me he had a panic attack an hour after I left. Started looking into childcare and stuff. She had to stop him from running after me with a diaper bag and they both crashed into a tree. Tu- a different friend sent me a picture."

"Your point?" sighed the Bat.

"I just said it? Forcing things helps no one. Just... put them in general proximity of each other and let the cards lay where they may. I know what you want to help Superboy, but forcing them into a get along shirt is just gonna hurt them both. You have to think of Superman too."

"And if he does go rogue?"

"Then we stop him."

"That easy?"

"That easy."

Superman sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, the whole situation was a lot less scary by simply changing the word. And what Stray said made sense, in a roundabout sort of way.

For his part, Batman was mentally kicking himself for hyper-focusing on Superboy's needs without taking Clark's feelings into consideration.

"We'll go with your plan," he agreed, "Superman, I'll need you to have a word with Black Canary. She will mediate with you and Superboy whenever you wish to meet, but I need you both to agree to this before we move forward."

"And if we can't?"

"Then he'll have to get adopted into somewhere else," figured Dani, sitting in midair again, "nothing good will happen if we just dump him on you. Neither one of you deserve what happened."

---

I'm sick of people dumping on Clark. Considering how he and the others live, I can't blame him for being suspicious.

Some other guy got replaced by a clone that didn't even know he was a clone. It wouldn't be that weird for Connor to have sleeper programming.

If anything, this is on Batman and the others for trying to force a relationship.

#dp x dc #dani phantom #batman #superman #superboy #clark kent #bruce wayne #connor kent

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loveinhawkins · 19 hours

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for the one word ficlet prompt thing!!

I'd love to see something steddie with the word "sun". not picky about how you use it and im good with whatever season you'd like! 💕🌻💘☀️

pre season 3 crossing paths in high school, my beloved ☀️💕 ao3

There’s a blind spot just on the outskirts of the school grounds, before you get to the woods: a little hill that if you sit at just the right angle, back pressed up against the grass, no-one can see you. Eddie goes there whenever he needs some peace—like now, reading alone during lunch. He can still hear the distant laughter of students floating along on the breeze, but it’s far enough away that it doesn’t intrude as he reads.

The air smells like summer’s approaching. His fingers skim through drying blades of grass; they feel almost as delicate as pressed flowers.

Despite the calm solitude, the words aren’t going in—and he knows that with the right teacher, he kinda gets Tennessee Williams, but Mr Hauser’s gone, and he was the only one who allowed Eddie free reign to go wild when reading aloud in class, every other sub since then would say he was being disruptive and… okay, that was true some of the time, but most of the time it was because it helped, damn it, gave him at least some hope of scraping a pass—

A shadow falls across Eddie’s page—it doesn’t loom in the way a teacher’s stance would, but he still jumps at the suddenness of it.

“Jesus!”

Eddie tips his head back against the hill, cranes his neck to look upside down. Squints against the sun.

It’s Steve Harrington, and he must have gym straight after lunch because he’s already changed into a T-shirt and shorts, which is an odd decision in Eddie’s opinion as a perpetual gym-ditcher, but whatever, it’s a free country… and it’s not exactly like the guy’s an eyesore.

”You trying to give me a heart attack, Harrington?”

“No,” Steve says shortly; he looks a mixture of embarrassed and… annoyed? Which would be a new personal best for Eddie, considering he’s done nothing to piss him off save for just sitting on the ground. “I didn’t know you were here, dude.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the idea,” Eddie waves his hands in explanation, “welcome to my hiding spot.”

Steve scoffs. “Not much of a hiding spot if I found it.”

It comes out a little petty, sure, but nothing major, Eddie thinks; it’s not like Steve’s picking a fight.

“What’s up with you, man?” he asks lightly.

It’s something he’s pondered more than once over the last couple of years, in between the stress of failed tests and the same platitudes in school reports: Eddie must apply himself next year; Eddie must try harder; Eddie must…

In the background of it all was the enigma that was Steve Harrington. Eddie had found that you couldn’t not look at him, his eyes drawn to even the most fleeting impressions: walking past the lockers or driving in and out of the school parking lot. Seasons changed—whole damn years changed—and still the question remained: just what on earth is up with Steve Harrington these days?

At least now, asking the question is profoundly less upsetting than it had been last fall, when Eddie silently tracked the progression of bruises healing across Steve’s face—along with Billy Hargrove’s intimidating stare.

“Nothing, I’m just…” Steve sighs. “Didn’t wanna spend forever in the cafeteria when it’s so nice out, but… Honestly?”

“Nah, I’d prefer you lie to me,” Eddie says deadpan, and Steve snorts before sighing again; Eddie almost asks him to read some Tennessee Williams out loud, ‘cause he’s surprisingly got the dramatics for it.

Steve flops down onto the grass, lies right on his back with no concern for his precious hair. “I’m so damn bored, Munson.”

“Gosh, my heart bleeds,” Eddie says. “Puh-lease tell me how hard it is to have passed everything and literally not have a care in the world?”

Steve blinks up at him, frowning. “Shit, are you repeating again?”

He sounds earnest, and there’s something in his phrasing that means Eddie isn’t nearly as defensive as normal—maybe because it’s about repeating again rather than failing.

Eddie lifts up the script in demonstration. “Not exactly reading this for fun, dude.”

“God, I’d take that over gym right now.”

“Okay, you’re bullshitting me. You love gym, Harrington. You, like,” Eddie gestures at Steve’s get-up, “actually make an effort and everything.”

“Not when the semester’s almost over, man. We don’t even have a cover right now, so we’re just left to, like, do whatever, who gives a shit. I’m bored outta my mind.”

“Tragic,” Eddie says—gym without a teacher sounds like a dream; he’d literally just leave. “I’m weeping for you.”

Steve rolls his eyes. But it doesn’t feel like a dismissal, even when he doesn’t reply and just lies back in the grass with another sigh.

So… Eddie mulls it over. What the hell, Steve’s graduating; it’s not like they’ll cross paths after that.

“Bet you can’t run to the woods and back before the bell rings.”

Steve sits up, a gleam of interest in his eyes. He checks his watch. “The bell’s gonna ring in, like, two minutes, Munson.”

“Oh, sorry, I thought you were so bored. Well, if you’re not up to the challenge—”

“No, no,” Steve says, standing up. “I didn’t say that.” He actually gets into position like he’s on the running track, looks at Eddie expectantly.

Eddie covers his bemusement with theatrics; he mimes firing a starting pistol.

And… shit, Steve Harrington can run.

Objectively, it’s not like it’s a surprise; he wasn’t exactly bringing up the rear in the swim and basketball teams. Still, it’s one thing knowing it, another to see it up close like this.

Eddie puts his book back in his bag, watching as Steve disappears from view. Reluctantly, he edges away from the hill—if he doesn’t, he’ll risk being late for class again by the time he walks over, and… He thinks of ‘86, what has to be his third time lucky. Start as you mean to go on, and all that.

Eddie turns back to look. Sure enough, Steve comes sprinting out of the woods, racing up to the hill right as the bell rings.

“Still counts, Munson!” he calls, a little breathless.

And Eddie knows that he’s not really solved the mystery of what’s going on with Steve Harrington.

What he does know is that Steve is smiling as he raises a fist in victory, the sun turning his hair golden for just a moment; he looks utterly free—as he should be, graduation’s right around the corner.

And Eddie can’t begrudge him that.

”Inspirational,” he shouts, cupping a hand around his mouth as he walks backwards. “I’ll get John Hughes on the phone, stat.”

The bell stops. Eddie turns around before he can trip on his own feet.

He’s getting closer to the school building now, can feel the change in the air, cliques unwillingly disbanding as teachers move them on.

But as he heads to class, Eddie faintly hears evidence that the moment hasn’t been broken entirely: Steve Harrington’s laughter, drifting across on the wind.

#i’m so obsessed with the last days of school as a setting #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

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pretty-little-mind33 · 2 days

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Vigilante Shit

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: Tangerine wants to teach you some important self-defense skills.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of violence and bruises, self-defense and mentions of an attacker, banter, swearing, reader has hair long enough to tie in a pony-tail

also inspired by @little-miss-dilf-lover's thoughts on this <3

"Remind me why we're doing this again?" you huff, pushing some stray strands of hair away from your eyes and tucking them behind your ears.

You glance up at your annoyingly insistent boyfriend from where you're sprawled on the training mat, one of your legs extended in front of you as you examine it for any bruising.

Tangerine stands over you, his arms crossed, and his frown deepens. "Because this is important to know, my luv," he sighs and holds out his hand to you.

Reluctantly, you accept and he pulls you up. Without a word, he tightens your ponytail and then runs his hand down your cheek. His tone is stern when he says, "Now, will you quit your complaining and try again?"

Knowing there is no use in arguing with him when he's like this, you turn around. Your skin feels clammy from the hours spent in this basement and you desperately need a shower.

Tangerine's arm suddenly comes around your throat this time, his other wrapped around your waist.

You gasp, focusing on not being flustered by his proximity as he presses his lips to your cheek. "Go on," he invites hoarsely and tightens his grip, "show me what ya learned."

His tone betrays his smirk as you struggle against him. His hold tightens and his frustration rises.

"Ya aren't even tryin', for fuck's sake!"

"I am," you say, your voice small as your nails dig into his arms.

Tangerine's grip tightens even more. "C'mon, use my strength against me. Just like I showed you earlier."

"I'm trying!" you exclaim more desperately and push against him.

"Try harder!" he grunts, and then his voice becomes low and serious again, "'Cause I'm bein' gentle—any other fuckin' bastard wouldn't, ya hear me?"

"I hate you," you hiss, only half-meaning it.

"Cheers," Tangerine snorts a chuckle and then, with a push, he sends you tumbling to the mat again.

You groan, rolling and hitting the ground with your head against the mat. You're staring at him with an annoyed expression. "You're definitely sleeping on the couch tonight, you dick."

Tangerine crouches next to you, looking you over, and once he sees you're completely unharmed, he takes your chin in his hand as you sit up and looks you dead in the eye. "I'd much rather ya bruise now than be helpless in a dangerous situation, luv. Why can't ya just listen to me? I just wanna protect you," his voice turns much softer.

You sigh, looking at him with a pouty expression. "I'm tired."

Tangerine rolls his eyes but swipes his thumb over your lip in an affectionate gesture. He smiles as he says, "We continue until you knock me down, luv. Just once, alright?"

You know he is being completely serious, so you nod, and he helps you stand again. Tangerine positions you like last time, his arm around you again, and he begins to tell you a scenario.

"Imagine I'm some fucker—"

"Don't have to imagine, honey," you interrupt with a laugh, finding your comment hilarious.

"Pay attention," he growls, "Imagine I'm some dangerous fella, no weapons, but I'm much stronger than you. I have ya like this, and no one is around. What do ya do?"

"Panic?"

"Dalrin', don't fuck with me."

Annoyed, you blow some hair away from your face and think for a moment. When an idea hits you, you smirk.

With as much momentum as you can manage, you suddenly knock your head back and smack Tangerine in the chin. He groans and loosens his arms from around you, but he doesn't back away completely.

You'd anticipated this, so you bend forward and hold his ankle, using his surprise to your advantage as you pull—hard. His legs fall in between yours and you hear a grunt—and then a loud thud.

He's fallen over.

You spin around, and with excitement, you jump onto him, earning another groan as you straddle his hips and pin down his wrists next to his head.

"Ha, I did it," you grin, breathing heavily as you stare into his eyes. Tangerine looks as breathless as you, his blue eyes widened in shock.

He looks you over. He hadn't even taught you that one yet. He cracks a real smile, the one that accentuates the smile lines one his face.

"One correction, baby—please don't straddle your attacker after, okay?"

You grin happily, sitting up and running your hand through his hair. You lean down, kissing his lips hastily, "Mmm, I just can't help myself if they're as sexy as you," you wink dramatically.

Tangerine laughs. He tickles your side and then pushes you off of him, earning him a squeal. "Whatever," he sits up and smoothes his hair, "A deal's a deal, my darlin'. We're done for today."

You sit up, and your eyes widen. "For today? You're shitting me, right?"

Tangerine nods and stands up, dusting his sweatpants and stretching his arms. "Ya didn't think one day would reassure me, did ya?" he shakes his head with a smirk and tuts, "I'm training ya until every move is muscle memory. Now, c'mon, let me check your bruises in the bathroom."

You groan and flop back onto your back. "You're definitely sleeping on the couch," you whine and cover your face with your arm.

"Hurry up, poppet!"

Your boyfriend calls from the doorway, a towel now draped across his shoulders nonchalantly, and when you flip him off that only earns you a fond look from him.

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littlexscarletxwitch · 3 days

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── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗹

paring: amy march x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, cute, kinda spicy towards the end but it mostly fluff and cuteness and amy kinda worshiping r, period piece, wlw established relationship

warning(s): hint of smut/spicy, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.1k

note: A little Amy March appreciation post. I just... I guess the Bridgerton hype is getting to me and with that comes the Amy hype back again. Hope you all enjoy this one, it's kinda based off of titanic (if you couldn't tell). I love you, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

“What are you doing?” you whispered right into her ear, causing Amy to jump on the spot a little.

“Do not do that, Y/n,” she said, clutching her hand to her chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“I apologise,” you said, chuckling as you kissed her temple. “What are you up to?”

“I’m just trying to find something to paint.”

“What are your options so far?”

“Well, this bowl of fruits,” she pointed to her left. “Or that one,” she pointed to her right.

“Again?” you asked, scoffing and raising your brow at her.

“I guess I could paint that vessel with the yellow flowers, they are nice, aren’t they?” she said, lost in her thoughts.

“You know, the other day, Aunt March showed me some French painting…”

“Did she now?” she said, gathering her things to paint the flowers, only half listening to your words.

“Yes, they were quite… interesting,” you said, mischief filing your voice.

“How so?”

“Well… they were lovely women, beautiful really…”

“Yes?” Amy was paying attention to you, she was trying at least, but her brain chose to focus more on the flowers in front of her.

“And they were… um… naked.”

Amy stood still for a second at your words, but then continued on as if it was nothing. Because in reality it wasn’t, the French had a thing for the human body, so what? It annoyed her, just a little, that you saw other women naked. But as long as her body was the only one you would touch, then she could do peace with it.

“They were fascinating, breathtaking even. Imagine being immortalised that beautifully.”

“Mmmh,” Amy agreed.

“I would love for someone to do that for me…” you said, enough with the playing around and getting to the point.

And then you had Amy’s whole attention. “Are you saying that you would stand, naked, in front of a man, just so he could paint you? That you would gladly expose your body?” she said sternly.

“No! God, no,” you scoffed. “You would paint me.”

You smile as you watch her cheeks turning red. It was no surprise really, you had lost count of all the times you and Amy had seen the other naked, did things while at it. But despite Amy’s strong personality, deep down she was as shy as a baby deer.

She cleared her throat. “I think I have heard wrong, it was as if you wanted me to paint you—.”

“Like a French model,” you finished for her. “Yes, you heard correctly.”

“Naked?”

“Yes, that was the whole point of this conversation,” you chuckled, as you stepped closer to her and took away the paint brushes from her hands to warm them with your own. “I do not mean to make you uncomfortable, Ames,” you peck the back of her hands. “I just thought… I was not really thinking, actually. You said you were looking for something to paint, and the pictures Aunt March showed me just came to my mind. But if you do not wish to—.”

“It would be my absolute pleasure,” she interumped you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am,” you couldn’t hold back the smile forming on your lips.

“How do you want me then?”

“You remember the pictures, right? Just do as you please, but… um… naked,” she winked at you, turning around to find her paintings, a new canvas and her favourite paint brushes.

You took the opportunity, as she wasn't looking, to undress yourself. As you peeled off piece by piece off your body, you felt the temperature in the room shift and realised it was a bit cold. But as you settled in your position and Amy finally looked at you, you felt your whole body burning with fire.

“Is this okay?” you shyly asked.

Her eyes trailed down your body, taking in every curve, your soft skin, your chest. She could even tell how hard and heavy your breathing had gotten, which caused a shiver to run down her spine. It was silly, really. She would wake up to your naked body as many mornings as she could, but seeing you in that perfect golden light, exposed for her eyes only, took her breath away.

“Perfect,” she managed to word out somehow.

She took a deep breath, and let her mind thrift away, only one thought remained in her mind and that was you. She allowed herself to be taken away by her light brush strokes, she let herself capture the intensity in your eyes, the softness of your body, the sun kissing your skin.

She was extremely immersed in the painting, that she felt as if it wasn't you who she was painting anymore. Sure, you were naked, the piece would tend to have some sexual appeal, but Amy felt as if she was painting something —someone— too pure to ever be turned into just a mere object of lust. She was sure she was painting the vivid image of an angel, and she couldn't believe that she had gotten so lucky to love and be loved by this angel.

“Almost done,” she muttered after what felt like ages, but really it was the fastest she had ever worked on a piece. There were still some more details to add, some lighting to be fixed, some shadows that looked odd. But she didn’t need you to keep on posing, to keep on being naked in the cold room.

“Is it finished?” you asked in disbelief.

“Not yet,” she chuckled. “I’ll keep on working on it later, I don’t need you to stand still.”

“I like being still if I have your eyes on me,” you grinned at her.

“I like it as well, but I can’t have you catching a cold,” she said, as she wrapped you around some warm coat she had lying around for the cold days.

“Thank you, for doing this,” you said, pecking her lips.

“I have you to thank, my muse.”

“Oh, so now I am your muse,” you playfully scoffed, your arms snaking around her shoulder while hers found your waist.

“You always have been,” she muttered as she left a kiss in the corner of your jaw. “I just guess it’s now official,” she chuckled, her uneven breath sending chills up your spine.

“Is that so?” you giggled. “Then, please do tell me more about it,” you said, throwing your head back giving her access to the sensitive skin of your neck.

“I don’t feel like talking right now,” she bit your skin.

“What do you feel like doing?” you were already breathless.

“Well…” she said as her hands drifted away to the belt securing your coat.

“Oh, I see,” you laugh, bringing her lips to yours.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#amy march #amy march x reader #amy march x fem reader #amy march x you #amy march x y/n #florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x fem reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n #little women #littlexscarletxwitch's fic

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annaraebananawriter · 2 days

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(Request) I Bet You Were the Best Brother

It's been a while since I posted a oneshot, so I hope this 5k one manages to make up for that.

As I've mentioned before, been going through a bit of a writer's block that is finally going away. Some it still lingers, but it is infinitely better. Feels like I can breathe again. So, everyone reading this that struggles with writer's block at the moment--know that it will go away. You will be able to write again. It's not a matter of if, only when. You will be able to write again.

Anyway, I don't have any other major life updates for you, so I guess I'll let you start reading now. Happy reading! Let me know what you thought!!

Fandom: Undertale/UTMV

Characters: Dream and Nightmare (Who belong to Joku)

Warnings: A character losing their memory and swearing and I think that’s it. Let me know!

Summary: Ilike_cringe (Fri 14 Oct 2022): "here is a request :>. Could you make it that nightmare might have hit dream tooo hard in a fight that (bear with me ) Dream lost his memory ( if you could could you add more spice \^o^/)"

Word Count: 5395

~oOo~

Nightmare wanted there to be a note that the fight started off normal.

His gang showed up, causing some ruckus. He hung out in the background observing, soaking in the new misery like a sponge, keeping an eye out for the tell-tale sign that the Star Sanses had shown up. In today’s case, that ended up being an arrow flying at one of his boys, which barely got dodged, the blue glow disappearing as it left eyesight. Grinning, he had taken it as his cue to join in, grabbing Dream by the ankles as he notched another one, and throwing him across the space.

Not too hard, of course. He didn’t want his brother out of commission quite yet. That was always the fun part about the fight, seeing him defeated. It needs to be drawn out a bit, though, for it to be really satisfying.

Dream recovered from the toss quickly, though he was soaked head to toe—he had unintentionally tossed him into the river. Whoops. The annoyed look on his brother’s face made his grin widen even more. They quickly fell into their routine after that, trading blows and insults, slowly moving away from the others. Another toss had them entering the woods, which resulted in a lot of fallen trees, a clear indicator of where they’d gone.

A cliff came into view, with Dream’s back to it. Nightmare didn’t take much note of it at the time, too preoccupied—his brother had just gotten a pretty bad hit to the back of his skull, making him stumble. Pausing for a minute, he gave him some time to get his bearings back before attacking again, pushing him closer to the cliff edge.

So…technically, this whole thing could be considered his fault, but how was he supposed to know what would happen?

The cliff seemed perfectly safe in the normal dangerous way!

This means the fight was going great until the cliff crumbled under Dream’s feet, making him shriek, eyes widening, his bow dispersing as he pinwheeled backward. Nightmare froze, staring at the now absent spot with eyes equally as wide, tentacles raised to strike.

Then it went silent.

“…shit,” he hissed, automatically turning around in case his brother teleported at the last second to safety. It wouldn’t be the first time, so it shouldn’t be the last time.

No one was there.

He waited.

Still no one.

Maybe Dream was just in shock, still picking himself up. Turning back, Nightmare stepped closer to the cliff, small rocks tumbling after the larger ones from his movements. If he leaned over, he could probably tell…ah, no. Nope, that was just a bunch of trees. His brother was probably under those trees. Probably just picking himself up.

He’ll return in no time.

Nightmare just had to wait.

So, he did.

For one minute. Then two. Then…honestly, he lost track of the minutes after that, glancing back and forth around the clearing, looking over his shoulder at the cliff like Dream would just suddenly appear, having climbed up for some stupid reason. Any minute now, the fight will be back on, continuing as usual…any minute now…

…any minute…

…any—

Okay, so.

Something was wrong.

Turning back to the cliff, he glared at the edge. It was its fault this was happening. Why did it decide to crumble now? Particularly when Dream was on it? Why?

Now his brother was somewhere below, dazed as hell, without the clear thinking necessary to teleport, or injured badly enough to be unconscious—and as soon as that thought popped into existence, he shoved it away, then took time to quell the rising panic in his soul.

No, no, that’s not possible. Dream’s far more durable than that. Sure, it’s a cliff, and cliff’s cause damage, even to immortal beings, but still. His brother could heal, so shouldn’t that work on himself, make him more…invulnerable, or something? Unless…he couldn’t actually heal himself and he’s just been assuming that he could this entire time…no, that couldn’t be possible. Nightmare’s pretty sure he’d remember that if it were the case.

So…what happened?

Maybe…maybe Dream was just staying down there for a while.

He’ll probably join again in a bit.

Yeah, that’s probably it. So, he should really go back and help his boys. Hey, maybe Dream’s already there! Maybe he went to his friends instead. Makes sense, makes sense…

He should go help his boys now, he’s been standing here too long.

And…he wasn’t moving.

Why wasn’t he moving?

Dream’s fine. He’s back at the main fight. It’s something that’s happened before. It should be something that happened here. It’s fine. He can go back. So…what kept him here, staring around like his brother would magically appear, a tight feeling in his chest that threatened to steal the air away from his non-existent lungs?

Maybe…maybe he should just go down there, check on Dream—

That was another thought pushed away. No, hell no. If he gave in to that though, if he went down there to check, now, after too much time has already passed for that to be considered just moving the fight along, that’d be…that’s cause his brother to hope. Hope that things could go back to the way things were before the apples. He can’t go through the painstaking steps needed to crush that hope, put off the last stubborn spark that remained until he was sure it wouldn’t create another flame. Not again.

Besides, he didn’t even care. Not that much. Sure, yeah, he cared somewhat, always would—that’s just naturally part of being a brother. But the majority of how much he cared was in the past, before everything was plucked off a tree in the form of a black apple and devoured. That care no longer exists, taken over by the need to win all these fights, making the scales tip in his direction.

It just…didn’t exist. He didn’t care.

(Some days, it was harder to convince himself of this fact than others.

This was one of them.)

He didn’t care, so he should so rejoin his boys, and get out of this AU.

This time, he teleported.

It was an easy win. Dream never came back.

When it came time to go home, Nightmare couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering away from his boys, who were celebrating as usual, over to the trees. In the direction of the cliff, even if he couldn’t see it from here.

The tight feeling in his chest squeezed and squeezed. His tentacles flicked nervously behind him. For some reason, he kept thinking that now was the moment his brother would appear, now was the moment he could stop all this silly, stupid worry, go back to being angry. And the longer he looked, the more that thought wavered and shook, gathering speed as it transformed into a tornado that threatened to consume all of his other priorities until he made sure Dream was okay. But the only way to do that was to go and check, and leaving now would just make the boys confused and worried, which he could not handle right now.

Besides, he was sure it was fine.

He got them all home before he could convince himself otherwise, before the urge to make sure was too overpowering. To make sure he was really distracted, he holed himself up in his office, pulling out some paperwork—which wasn’t even real paperwork, just a bunch of sudoku and word searches and other puzzles printed out to make it look like he was working on important stuff.

For the most part, it worked. Kept his mind too busy to think about what happened.

Then he got to one particular word search that—and he is not joking or exaggerating this part—had three words at the bottom for him to find, all in a row, that read: ‘Dream’, ‘injury’, and ‘concussion’. Isn’t that just the strangest collection of words you’ve ever seen? The surreal coincidence of the words made Nightmare stare down at the page for a minute, completely gobsmacked. Who the hell was writing these word searches, and why the fuck did they include these three specific words on the same one?

It was like a sign or something…

Sneering, Nightmare tore the word search up into tiny pieces, sitting back in his chair, spinning around and around. Trying very hard not to think about the three words. And how his brother never came back. And how the yelp he let out when he fell just fell silent and how he never bothered to check and—

And now he was thinking about it.

“Fuck.”

Growling to himself, he stopped spinning in his chair. Then, he promptly stood and teleported back to the AU.

Leaning over the cliff again, he teleported down. His brother wasn’t anywhere in the immediate proximity—though, why would he be? This was all just a waste of time—so he started walking around, ducking under some tree branches. When he fell, Dream would’ve had to have landed somewhere around here…though he still wasn’t sure why he was searching.

His brother was probably gone by now. His friends probably came to collect him.

Why did he think he’d find him here, lying on the ground as if nothing happened? As if he just decided to take an impromptu nap, in the snow and in wet clothes and…

Oh. Oh, shit.

That was actually Dream lying there in front of him.

Fuck.

Almost tripping over himself, Nightmare hurried over, falling to his knees beside his brother. His hands hovered in the air around him, unsure what to do. “Dream?” he called, hoping to wake him up. Nothing happened.

Dream didn’t move.

For a soul-stopping moment, Nightmare actually thought he might be dead. Panic swirled in his chest, choking him, until he remembered that if they were dead, their body would turn to dust. Presumably, anyway, since they had no real way of knowing that until they…y’know…actually died, but still. The thought allowed him to gather himself enough to Check his brother, make sure of it. It said he was fine, if missing a chunk of health.

Nightmare breathed out, hating how shaky it was. “Idiot, making me worry for nothing…” he muttered to himself, looking down at his brother, frowning. Shaking his shoulder, he raised his voice a bit, eager to wake him up, make sure he left to wherever, hopefully back to his friends, and get home himself before his boys wondered where he went off to. “Dream. Wake up.”

No response. Dream was still. Breathing—he double-checked, just to be sure—but still.

Frowning, he shook him again, rougher. Still nothing.

Even unconscious, his brother insisted on being annoying. Scowling, he sat back on his heels. “If you don’t wake up, I’m going to kick you.”

Nothing.

Welp. His hand was forced.

Standing, Nightmare kicked Dream in the side—not too hard, of course, he’s not a complete monster. Just enough that he woke up.

Which he did.

Finally.

Nightmare rolled his eye to himself, crossing his arms as he watched his brother groan, coming to. A hand half-raised to his head before stopping, eyes blinking open and squinting against the light. His eyelights were paler than normal, just a hair bigger, too. He could see the exact moment they focused in, his brother clocking that there’s someone standing above him, but Dream didn’t panic, didn’t seem to be anything more than confused.

Dream blinked again. “Hi.”

Nightmare raised a brow bone. Seriously? That’s it? He fought the urge to roll his eye again. “What are you still doing here?”

His brother seemed to get more confused. “What?”

Wondering if the fall knocked loose some brain cells, Nightmare scowled. “What do you mean, ‘what’? You know what. What are you still doing here? This is, like, the most uncomfortable spot to have a nap.” Without waiting for him to answer, he continued, waving a hand around. He couldn’t let the opportunity to mock him go by. “And why didn’t you rejoin the fight? I thought you had a duty to protect the positivity in the multiverse.”

“Um…” Dream blinked for a third time, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He laughed, nervously, like a reflex, and when he opened his eyes again, they were fuzzy again. “Sorry, you went a bit fast for me there. Could you repeat that?”

Ugh. Now he was just being difficult.

“You’re so annoying.” Nightmare said, stepping away. “Just get up and get out of here.”

Looking up at him, the words seemed to take a few minutes to sink in. Then, nodding, Dream tried to stand, movements jerky, as if he was figuring out how to move them for the first time again. When he stood, he wobbled, tilting over a bit before righting himself.

Nightmare realized he had stepped forward, ready to catch him should he fall, and retreated, tucking his hands back into his arms.

Damnit. He was slipping. He had to get out here, fast.

“I’m alright.” Dream said, clearly noticing his misstep. He was smiling. Nightmare had to look away before the sight made him feel warm inside. “Just a bit dizzy.”

“Whatever,” Nightmare said in return, leaving it at that.

Still smiling, his brother shifted on his feet, looking down at his hands and clenching them into fists a couple of times. His gaze wandered back up to him, and then away, looking around them with a curious, still confused, look. It was almost like he was trying to figure out where he was, as if he wasn’t just in a fight here earlier.

He couldn’t have forgotten that fast, could he? And what was he still doing here?

Shouldn’t he be opening a portal by now?

“What are you waiting for?”

Snapping back to look at him, Dream didn’t seem to understand the question. “Huh?”

Waving a hand again, tentacles flicking behind him, Nightmare’s scowl deepened. Why the fuck was he acting so weird? “Open a portal already and go home. Your friends are probably worried sick by now.”

(He ignored the voice in his head that said he was starting to get worried, too.)

“Right, right.” Dream nodded, trying and failing to look like he knew what he was talking about. “A portal…see, um, I would do that…but, uh…” Looking around again, shifting some more, his smile turned sheepish. “Well, I don’t remember, exactly, how to do that.”

Nightmare did not return the smile, unamused. He just stared.

What the fuck? What was he playing at? What was the point in drawing all this out? Nostalgia? What did he get out of acting so weird? What was going on here?

“Do you think this is a fucking game?” Nightmare asked, voice slipping off into a growl. His tentacles moved restlessly. He was getting agitated now. He just wanted to go home, get back to his puzzles, and maybe sleep for a week. But no, he was here, playing along with this stupidness, unable to get a grasp on what was happening.

Dream looked alarmed, holding his hands up and shaking them furiously. “No! No—”

“Then why the fuck are you wasting my time? I come out here, in the middle of the evening, to make sure you’re good, and you decide to, what, pull a joke on me?” Unable to curb his irritation, he shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face. “Stars, I hate you. I’m reminded now why I don’t bother doing this for you. You never take it seriously.” Turning he started to walk away, hearing Dream stutter excuses behind him.

He didn’t want to hear any excuses. He was done. He was going home.

“It’s not—I’m not joking,” Dream called after him, footsteps crunching on the snow as he chased after him.

“Of course, you are!” Nightmare sighed, in annoyance or anger or both of them combined. He didn’t care anymore. “You always are!” He didn’t bother stopping or turning around. Just continued on. And then he remembered he didn’t have to walk away at all, could just make a portal out. Turning his annoyance to himself, he raised a hand to do so—

“I don’t remember that.”

—and stopped.

The statement struck the right chord, making something inside him fall to the pit of his stomach, pricking him uncomfortably. Slowly, he turned to face Dream again, paying more attention. “…what?”

“I—I don’t remember that,” Dream said, tone so genuine, eyes so wide and confused and even scared that it seemed to create a physical attack on his soul. Raising a hand, his brother held it to his head. “I thought if I waited a bit, I might remember something, but I don’t. It’s all just…blank. I don’t know anything you’re talking about, like the fight or my friends. I place any faces to them or names or anything.” He let his hand fall, shaking his head as he turned his gaze down to his feet, speaking softly. “I just don’t remember.”

The words pushed Nightmare out of the present, sending him spiraling into the black hole opening in his ribs, right where his soul is. They pressed in on him, reverberating, turning into a high pitch that buzzed inside him, threatening to cut off his breath.

He didn’t want to believe the words. In fact, he was trying his absolute best not to. Excuses flew through, nitpicking through the explanation and finding words that betrayed the real truth. He told himself over and over that no matter what, no matter how injured he got, Dream would never allow this to happen. His brother would hold onto himself with an iron grip, too desperate to let go, and the Multiverse would allow him to hold on because it was just another being that favored him. They would not let their favorite Guardian lose his precious memories, not for all the stories it brought them.

No, it just wasn’t possible. He was lying—though the reason why was unclear, and nothing could really justify it, he had to be lying. It was a trick, a ploy, maybe even a trap. Yes, that’s it. Any minute now, the other Star Sanses would jump out, pull their weapons, and Dream would drop this façade and go back to pleading with him and when it didn’t work, when Nightmare lashed out in anger, he would pull out his bow and—and—

It just---it had to be a trick.

It had to.

It…

His eyes didn’t look like he was lying, though.

No matter how long he searched, how close he looked, it was a blank sheet of gold. He found confusion, yes, he found anxiety—nothing new there—but he did not find any recognition. Hope and helplessness, but no relief in having someone he knew find him. Even now, as his brother looked around the clearing, he only saw curiosity, as if he hadn’t seen this place before, as if he had just arrived, as if he had just woken up and was in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar faces. The eyes came back to his, smiled at him, and—

And they were still blank.

A ghost.

The black hole in his ribs widened, pulling him in faster. Digging his heels in, he resisted with everything he had, swimming back out. He had to confirm this, he told himself, had to make sure this was the truth. If there was any chance he did remember, whether that be his friends or his title or Night—

Well, Nightmare just had to find it. He had to.

He heard himself speak before he was fully back in his body. “Did you hit your skull?”

“Ah, maybe?” Dream tilted his head, reaching around to the base of it before retracting quickly, wincing. “Yes. Yeah, I did.”

“Turn around.”

Obedient, Dream did, and Nightmare stepped closer, observing the crack. It wasn’t as bad as he was expecting—certainly not as big—but it was still enough to make bile climb up the back of his throat. Swallowing it down, he darted his gaze around it, taking in the gaping black hole, about the size of a cherry, thinner cracks webbing out from around it. It had blood crusted on the edges, and he was sure that if he took the time to look around the cliff, he’d find matching spots.

Absently reaching out, he traced along the wound with his fingers. Stars, how he wished he knew how to heal. This would be so much easier.

Dream pulled away after his fingers made contact, and he let his hand fall as he turned back, already apologizing. “Sorry! Sorry, that just…really hurt.” He laughed again, but it petered out as he caught sight of Nightmare’s face. “Oh…that bad of a sight, huh?”

“You said…” Nightmare swallowed again, ignoring those words. “You said you don’t remember anything?” The feeling in the pit of his stomach clenched.

“No.” Oblivious, Dream shook his head. “The latest memory I have is of you standing over me. Before that…” Tilting his head again, his brother thought about it, ultimately coming up with nothing. No spark in his eyes. “Nothing.” He looked regretful, like he wished he could be of more help. “Sorry.”

There he went again, apologizing.

Nightmare was going to have to have a talk with him about that. He can’t keep saying sorry for things that he didn’t need to say sorry for in the first place.

First, however, was dealing with—this.

“So…” He didn’t want to ask the next question. It burned in his throat, made his tongue curl in preparation, the words too ugly to even think about. Why did it need to be said? He already knew the answer to it. Why did he insist on asking it when he knew what was going to be said? He would rather them stand like this forever than ask it.

That was a risk, though. And he would really like to get some sleep tonight—even if that might be impossible the longer this sank in. They should really wrap this up soon.

That meant asking uncomfortable questions.

Swallowing himself down, Nightmare let the question go. It couldn’t hurt to ask, anyway. “You don’t remember me?” The words lingered in the air, an odd hint of emotion to them, something fragile and vulnerable.

(He knew the answer to why he wanted to ask this.

Somehow, somewhere inside him, there was still a need that maybe something would be remembered. If the longer they talked, the greater the chance the memories would just snap back into place. That the hollow feeling of having someone you grew up with look at you like one would a stranger would disappear, replaced by joy or anger or tears, anything else.

Inside, if nothing else, he needed there to be a chance he’d be remembered.)

It felt like hope.

“No.” Dream answered, the shaking of his head feeling like salt poured into open wounds. He seemed disappointed in himself, upset he couldn’t help. For him, this was failing at giving someone what they wanted.

For Nightmare, this was confirmation.

(It felt like denial.)

(There was a stinging in his chest. Where did it come from?)

“Where you someone important?”

Nightmare automatically bristled. “I—” He stopped himself, glaring down at the ground while clenching his jaw.

His instinct was to say that, of course he was. He was Dream’s brother. They grew up together. They were, still are, two halves of the same coin, two halves to the same balance. Despite everything, that had to mean something.

But that wasn’t the truth, was it?

Not anymore.

Maybe one time, before The Incident, before the villagers came to them. It was just the two of them, after all. And Mother, but she couldn’t really say much, or do anything beyond existing. Maybe then they were each other’s most important person. And maybe it would’ve stayed that way had everything not gone to shit.

But the point was, that was in the past.

Whatever they had, it was gone. In more ways than one now…

Inhaling, Nightmare looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. “That…depends on your definition of important.”

They had other people in their lives now. He had his gang, his boys. Though he often complained about their foolishness and called them idiots, not once had he ever wished he hadn’t met them. Dream, he knew, felt much the same about Ink and Blue. Neither of them would trade their friends for the world.

Even for each other.

“I was—” Nightmare sighed, rolling back his shoulders. “I’m your brother. Nightmare.” He forced himself to look back at Dream, even if the eye contact burned his soul with something uncomfortable. “Your name is Dream, by the way. In case you forgot that, too.”

“Cool!” Dream paused and gasped, beaming as he made the connection. “Our names match!”

“Yeah.” Nightmare said, forcing himself to smile back. “Yeah, they do.” Of course they did, he thought to himself. That’s the reason why they chose the names.

Brow furrowing, Dream tilted his head. “Wait, if we’re brothers, wouldn’t I just live with you, then?”

“What?” Nightmare felt himself frown in return. “Why do you think we’d live together?”

Strange, considering Dream didn’t even remember him.

(There was that stinging again.)

“I-I don’t know, I just…I have this feeling that brothers should be living together. That they need to live together. I don’t know why, but it’s a very strong feeling.” Dream raised a hand to his chest, hovering over where his soul would be. “When I think about you, um, that feeling gets all…strange.”

This caught his attention. “Strange?”

“Yeah.” Nodding slowly, Dream worked through it, finding what to call it. “I think it…I think it turns jealous, somehow.”

Nightmare stared.

Jealous…?

That couldn’t be right. Dream had to be reading it wrong.

There was nothing to be jealous about. His brother always had the perfect life. What more could he want?

If anything, he should be the one jealous. He’s the only one who deserves to be jealous. Jealous of the way people were always drawn to his brother over himself, the way people thought everything of the sun and nothing of the moon, even though they both shared the same light. It was his right to be envious, his right to look upon the past and view it with bitterness. It was his right to look at the present, now, when Dream still has his friends and his standing and still has everyone revolving around him.

At least he can find relief, find arrogance, in the fact that he found his own friends, his own group of people who looked up to him. It took years, it took work, but he found them.

He didn’t need Dream anymore.

(So, what if sometimes he looked at his brother and his friends and felt a longing to join them?

So, what if he found the way they laughed, the way they treated each other, a reminder that he’s done too many things to be treated like that again?

So, what if he’s tired of fighting all the time and wants to go back to how things were, while knowing that could never happen, while looking across the battlefield into golden eyes that reflected the same kind of feelings and—and…oh.

Oh.

Oh, they would never escape being peas in a pod, would they?)

“Hey, you mentioned my friends, though.” Dream said, brightening up again, looking around like they might just pop up. Not that he would recognize them. “Maybe we could find them and they could help me get home. What do you think of that?”

Maybe, Nightmare thought, looking away as well. He couldn’t lie, it would be nice to leave this place, and dump the responsibility of an amnesiac onto someone else. Especially the Guardians of the Multiverse, the coveted Star Sanses.

But something twisting in his stomach stopped him from agreeing.

He thought, all too suddenly, about how he came back hours later to his brother still lying in relatively the same spot he fell. Meaning Ink and Blue never came back to look for him after they retreated. You’d think, for monsters that claimed to be his best friends, they’d be out here the minute the battle was over, bringing Dream back home to be checked on.

Why should he trust his brother with those two, when they didn’t even search for him? They probably don’t even know he’s missing. They certainly don’t know he’s injured. He can’t help but wonder what their reactions would’ve been to this memory loss.

Too bad he won’t find out.

“I think they’re busy, actually.” Nightmare decided, making a split decision that he hoped wasn’t wrong. “And going to be busy for the week yet.”

“Oh…”

Dream looked disappointed. Hurt.

The look on his face only solidified Nightmare’s decision. His tentacles curled in satisfaction. “You can come home with me, though. Stay for a bit.”

“Really?” Starting to brighten yet again, Dream seemed to hesitate, searching to make sure he was telling the truth.

“Yeah.”

“Awesome.” Dream’s smile lit up the forest, and Nightmare turned himself away before he found himself getting soft because of it. Raising a hand to open the portal, he heard Dream chuckle behind him. “I gotta say, even though I don’t remember it, I bet you were the best brother ever.”

The words were said so confidently, so…normally…it made Nightmare freeze. The portal wobbled in front of him, but stayed open, and he blinked at it a couple of times before he turned back to his brother.

His mouth was dry, for a reason he couldn’t yet understand.

“What?”

“Well, I mean…it’s like you said. You came all this way, in the middle of the night, to check on me. You were worried. And then, when you found me, you stayed to wake me up, even though you technically already completed your goal. You didn’t just leave. And you checked my injury without me asking you to, and told me my name, and now you’re offering to let me stay at your place.”

Dream’s smile turned smaller, more vulnerable. “It just seems like a very nice thing to do.”

Nightmare’s gaze was frozen, locked onto that genuine, soft smile. The last sentence played on a loop, ringing inside his skull.

A very nice thing to do.

In any other situation, the suggestion would be laughable.

But like this…

(There was that stinging. Again. Why won’t it just go away?)

He thought back to the fight that happened earlier. How he reveled in the pain he caused, how much fun he had taunting his brother. How often he attacked him, without worry or caution. How eager he was to throw him around into trees, back him up into a cliff. He hadn’t even thought about what might happen, too giddy, too smug. All he wanted to do was put him in his place…he hadn’t even cared that he was bleeding…hadn’t even reached out to try and save him when the cliff crumbled…

How long had Dream laid there, in the snow, still in wet clothes?

What did he think as he watched Nightmare watch him fall?

How can that be called nice?

How can what happened during The Incident be called nice? What kind of brother turned his twin into stone, and left him in a dead AU all alone, knowing full well that he would one day return? What kind of brother picked an apple he was supposed to protect in the first place? What kind of brother was he?

Certainly not the kind this Dream was talking about…

“Right.” Nightmare said, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. He understood why this time. He wanted to throw up. “Thanks.”

Dream didn’t notice anything wrong. Still smiling away. As always. Always. “No problem!” Rocking back on his heels, he started to look around as his attention span waned with no portal to go through.

Still, Nightmare did not move to open it.

Instead, he found himself changing tracks. Jumping train from thinking about how bad of a brother he was, to how good of a brother Dream was.

Is.

Was.

Stars, this was so confusing…

“You weren’t that bad of a brother yourself.” Nightmare said, and this time the words were better tasting. At least this way, something true would be said here.

Dream looked back at him, surprised, with a spark of confusion. Then, even if he didn’t know everything Nightmare was talking about, he smiled, taking it as the compliment it was. “Aw, thanks.”

Nodding, Nightmare finally managed to open the portal, letting Dream go through first. He hesitated to follow, looking around the AU again. For some reason, he felt like he would still find his brother, memories and all, waiting for him if he looked hard enough. But he wouldn’t. He knew that.

At least, he had to accept that.

That stinging again…

Showing it down once again, Nightmare turned and went home.

(It’s only after Dream is settled into one of the guest bedrooms—stocked with fresh bedsheets and a fresh pair of clothes for the next day borrowed from Nightmare’s own closet—and he’s back in the safety of his office that he lets his composure finally break. Choking, he slides down his door, hand clasped over his mouth to keep as quiet as possible.

It’s only then that he lets himself cry.

Cry about how he never reached out to catch his brother when he first fell.

Cry about what his brother thought before splitting his skull on a rock.

Cry about the stranger left in his brother’s body.

Cry about everything.)

#my writing #my fanfiction #fanfiction #oneshot #request #undertale #utmv #dreamtale #dream sans #nightmare sans #tw swearing #tw amnesia

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m3r1m4r5u333 · 17 hours

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So I just need to ramble some more about Eddie being queer-coded, and especially bi-coded. And pining. Always pining.

5x11 is an interesting episode. The episode is called "Outside looking in". Which btw makes me think of some stuff I've posted about before - how Eddie feels like queerness is not an option for him. He's watching from a distance, outside looking in. Sure, he'll support other queer people, but what about himself? Not an option.

Religious family, perhaps the lingering fear of losing Christopher's custody, fear of making his son's childhood even harder, and also I think... Just fear of discovery. I think Eddie has pined after Buck for a long, long time, and fears that people would realise how he really feels if he came out. It would be like stepping under a spotlight with no payofff. Just awkward, embarrassing because he thinks his feelings are a dead end. First he thought Buck was straight. And then even Buck turning out to not be straight changed nothing - Buck is already dating someone else, gushing about him to Eddie.

Anyway... Outside looking in. It's a very Eddie-centric episode, focuses a lot on Eddie's identity. He's quit 811 and works at a call center. The job doesn't suit him. It's dull, feels meaningless. He quickly becomes bored, sad, lonely. He's lost his identity, even his scars are missing when he gets ready for the day.

An interesting bit about Eddie's daily routine montage is the music that plays during it. It's Are you down to ride? by Skegss. Very queer-sounding!

"Let's pretend like we've done this all before

So much wilderness to go and explore

Your imagination is the best recreation

Remove the mask you're wearing and overcome your fear

Cut it with your smile and show the world what you're really like..."

...There's also the repeated flip, an alternating question of "Are you down to ride?/Are you down for life". The song is all about trying to overcome fear, to embrace your true self.

I won't quote the entire song but overall, there are lots of lines that sound like hints to hidden queerness. First of all, "so much wilderness to go and explore"? The montage also shows a framed photograph in Eddie's room. Curious "wilderness" there - a picture of some very phallic looking cacti!

"...This is it, this is what you were made to be

Yeah, might seem strange to you

It's as strange as hell to me..."

The word strange of course always makes me think of queerness, too. That's what the word queer used to mean. So strangeness, combined with the line about "this being what you were made to be". Curious.

Then the dialogue in that montage.

May telling Eddie that "the word of the day" ... ("..???". It's a fancy word I couldn't catch, I'm not a native english speaker),

means "to leave abruptly."

Which combined with the music about overcoming fears, removing a mask... naturally makes me think of coming out of the closet. Also, there's Eddie's abrupt decision to quit the team, and even his big decision to move away from the overwhelming pressure of his religious family.

The decision to quit the team forms after Eddie is hurt on the job. But it also forms after Eddie starts dating Ana, and after the relationship fails spectacularily - due to Eddie not loving her, and clearly not being ready to move on.

Personally I feel like Eddie freaks out about his strong connection to Buck and that is one reason why he wants to quit the team. It's there in that panic attack scene at the fire station. So many hints of unrequited feelings, and so much staring at Buck. So I think part of the reason why Eddie quits his job..? It's to gain some distance to Buck.

Eddie in Outside, looking in... The word of the day being "to leave abruptly"...?

It also has that scene in which Buck and Taylor come to Eddie's for dinner and Eddie tells Buck that Buck needs to move on, Eddie has. (It's obviously a lie, Eddie is a mess.)

When May whips out that word about leaving abruptly..., Eddie isn't a fan of it, wryly says "And I thought "bamboozle" was the word of the day lowpoint". (Bamboozle = to trick or deceive someone, often by confusing them)

Moving on isn't easy. Leaving the closet isn't easy. Deceit, tricks, confusion... no fun either.

Anyway, back to bi-coded dialogue.

There's Linda, another colleague, who keeps recommending Eddie some recipes. Btw I think I've said this before but. To me it sure sounds like this show loves making food related sex jokes!

In another episode we have Buck (a bisexual) telling Bobby and Athena that he likes their cooking equally.

Then there's Eddie later, in season 7, talking about his relationship troubles with Marisol, getting a text from Marisol who wants to know what Eddie wants for dinner. Buck suggests sushi, Eddie answers "The menu is not the issue."

And color me crazy if you like, but as far as I understand, it's a pretty old euphemism that men are "meat" and women are "fish"... So jokes about liking "fish". Sure sound like euphemisms to sex with women.

Anyway, back to Linda and recipes.

Eddie sees Linda, tells her

"By the way, you were right about the fish sauce! Never would have thought of it."

Linda answers "Told you. Umami levels off the charts!"

Eddie promises Josh to get to work right away. Then goes to post public service announcements on social media.

But turns out it's "Exit ramps closed..."

And in the montage his printer won't work. He makes a press release about a structure fire. A structure fire... sounds like an identity crisis.

Eddie's daily routine montage continues. He cooks breakfast for Chris and tells him to

'eat up so he can focus at school.'

Eddie calls him Bud as he says that. Which sure sounds to me like meta writing to the buddie fans. "Hey buddies, now's the time to get ready for school - pay attention!"

So pay attention to what, what happens after that, how are we schooled?

Eddie takes Chris to school, gets to work, and is seen talking to Linda again.

Eddie: Are you sure about this?

Linda, very confidently: Equal parts potato and butter!

Then Eddie is seen posting about "traffic collisions". One taking place at Sepulveda 405 fwy. Sepulveda is btw derived from spanish, and means "to bury". And 405? Could it be an episode? I think it is. And that one, season 4, episode 5... It's Buck begins.

Interesting, how that episode also has someone running away from his family: Buck. There's Buck, learning to ride his bike, running from home, running to Maddie to be patched up because he crashed on his bicycle.

Has Eddie maybe "crashed his bike", and gotten hurt, too, and that's made him quit the team abruptly?

Then the montage with Eddie in Outside, looking in, it also includes a child on the phone asking Eddie...

"Are you a real fire fighter?" Eddie says yes, I'm a real firefighter.

We've heard that question before! Another child sneeringly asks that same thing from Buck when he's forced to do desk duty.

(It's in that super buddie-coded episode, Monsters, the one with the crows who are repeatedly called buddies.

The crows attack young boys who torment them, the team wonders if the crows are waiting for these boys to come out.)

So... In Monsters, a boy asks Buck if he's even a real firefighter, Buck says that he is.

Which rather makes me think of bi erasure once again. The persistent belief that bisexuality isn't "a real" sexual orientation. "Oh everyone is "bi" these days, it's trendy!/You just made this up to get attention/You're really just gay/straight and won't admit it...

It's all about "You're not even real". The inability to take the bisexuality seriously is a never-ending reaction to us bisexuals. We are thought to be these mythological creatures, unicorns.

So I think it's very interesting that this is asked of Buck, and later of Eddie.

"Are you even a real firefighter?"

Very similar to this repeated challenge of... "Are you even a real person?"

Bisexuality is always very quickly dismissed as an option. It's apparent in this fandom too.

This actually reminds me of another scene in which Eddie once again calls Chris Buddy... And tries to tell him about meeting Ana, and really liking her. Chris is making a salad as Eddie starts talking about Ana, is enraged to hear about Eddie dating this woman, throws the salad on the floor, storms out. Eddie is left alone, collecting the pieces of that salad bowl. He looks sad.

Another thing that makes me return to the idea that Eddie is bi/pan? The hints about his relationships failing and dating being a performance - because he can't move on.

Right before Eddie asks Ana out, there's this emergency with that rapper dude. The episode is Jinx, the same one in which the team is trapped inside their truck due to deathly amounts of electricity. (Subtext!)

Jinx also has the clowns. Which I'd made crazy posts about before so to briefly summarize - I think the clowns are the queer audience, choking on the queerness of Buck and Eddie together.

Anyway, that rapper in Jinx:

Izzy chainz... Stuck on you. Or maybe,

Is it chains to be stuck on you? Catch me here - a qr code. Or a queer code?

That's Eddie, really. Not having moved on.

But Eddie tries to move on. Even though he's not ready. Eddie needs pep talks from Bobby to go on dates. He's not really ready to move on from Shannon, has not processed her death, their marriage failing.

But he hurls himself into that relationship anyway... And then anxiety builds. It's a sum of several factors, but still.

The panic attacks are quite revealing. They build a picture of Eddie not only being over Shannon, but also realising that he's now stuck on Buck as well, and cannot handle losing him.

One panic attack - when he sees a patient who looks startingly like Buck. Another when someone thinks Ana is Christopher's mother - making Eddie remember Shannon. And likely also Buck, because Ana's reaction is not only to deny that she's Christopher's mother. She also continues saying "I'm just a friend!" Much like Buck, who keeps parenting Chris despite not being a parent to Chris, despite being just a friend to Eddie.

Third panic attack... when Ravi thinks Ana is Eddie's wife - even though Eddie clearly doesn't love her, even forgot to introduce her because quite frankly, he's too distracted by Buck.

Is it chains, stuck on you..." Yes. Certainly, there are lots of chains stopping Eddie from moving on.

Those 'chains' made Eddie's relationship with Ana an impossible up-hill battle from the start, they're the reason why that relationship ends up failing. He does not pursue her freely, genuinely, he is trying to fall for a concept of them together.

The breakup also hints that Eddie's been catching feelings for Buck, and is left reeling, trying to understand them, and get over them.

But he still hasn't. They've always been there, from the way he just jumps into making Buck his family, to present day in season 7 where Marisol struggles to place her bag on Eddie's hallway table. There's just no space for someone like Marisol to set down their belongings, they joined this race years too late.

The space is already taken. The toy truck Buck gifted to Chris years ago takes too much the space for anyone else to get too comfortable. It's the first thing Eddie wants to see when he comes home. That's quite telling.

#911 buddie #evan buckley #buddie #eddie diaz #buddie 911 #911 on abc #evan buck buckley #911 abc #tv: 911 #eddie díaz #abc 911 #are you a real firefighter?

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 10 hours

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Exposed

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader summary: You come back from a mission with a tear in your suit. Miguel's reaction to what he sees underneath surprises you in the best way. tags / warnings: smut (minors do not interact!), p in v, fem reader, sassy spider-reader word count: 2.3k

You were coming back from a successful mission. Anomaly eliminated. No casualties. Well, except your spider-suit. An annoyingly claw-y bad guy had swiped at you from behind, and even though you’d just managed to dodge his attack, he’d nicked your suit and sliced a long strip of it down your side, from your back all the way down to the top of your thigh. Half your ass cheek was exposed, but you were so exhausted it was beyond you to care. You’d be suit-free and in bed soon enough. You just had to report in to Miguel first. He’d ordered you to because this had been a “potentially significant anomaly.” There seemed to be more and more of those recently. And he seemed to be assigning them mostly to you. You didn’t know of any other spiders that had to report to him personally after missions so often.

You could feel the cold on your lower back as you walked up to his HQ platform, it slowly descending in front of you. You hop up as soon as it’s low enough, wasting no time. Miguel’s back is to you as he watches what seems like a million screens at once.

“Mission successful, spider-boss.” “Don’t call me that.” You knew he hated that nickname. That’s why you kept using it.

“You prefer spider-captain? Spider-chief? Oooh maybe spider-king? No, that doesn’t sound right. Aren’t spiders more matriarchal anyway? You could be spider-queen if you want. Has a bit of a bite to it.” “Y/N,” he deadpans. “Hm?” “Shut up.” “Yes, sir, spider-queen!”

He finally turns around to look at you, exasperation all over his chiseled features. You catch the end of his eye roll. Knowing engaging will only get more out of you, he opts to go straight to business. “You eliminated the anomaly?” “Yup.”

“Cleaned up the contamination afterward?” “Like the top class interdimensional janitor that I am.”

“Anything unusual?” “Well, there was this big scary dude with giant claws that was only ever black and white when the rest of the world was especially colorful. Soo that was weird.” “I mean other than the exact reason I sent you there in the first place.” He runs his hand over his face, the other on his hip, looking sassier than he probably intended. “Oh! Then no.”

You come over to his desk, leaning on it.

“And you’re alright? No injuries or anything?” In the back of your mind, you notice his voice softening as he asks you this.

“I’m good. More than I can say for my suit though,” you laugh. You lift from the desk, turning slightly, twisting to look at the tear, exposing it to Miguel. “Why’s it called ‘tearing someone a new one,’ huh? Doesn’t make any sense. I need a new one specifically because this one’s torn.”

You don’t expect him to respond to your stupid question, but when you look up at Miguel, the look on his face is more than unexpected. His eyebrows are shot up, his mouth the slightest bit ajar, his eyes fixed intently on your exposed ass.

For once, you have no idea what to say. Why was he looking at you like that? Were you in trouble? Just because this was a bit inappropriate? I mean, c’mon, you were all spider-people; you’d all had your fair share of injuries that needed patching up and the like. It felt like a big sports team: bodies rendered just bodies by the heat of battle. Of course, you’d never admit to anyone out loud that while that was true for all the other spiders in your eyes, Miguel was the sole exception. His body could never be just a body. It was too imposing… too striking… too beautiful. You caught yourself staring at him much more often than you liked. Always talked incessantly when he was around to keep yourself distracted and from looking like an idiot. Well, you still looked like an idiot after everything you said, but you were an idiot on your own terms, usually getting some laughs while you were at it.

“Miguel?” You come up with nothing else.

Your voice snaps him out of his trance. His eyes shoot up to your face, and he looks — what is that? you’d never seen that look on Miguel O’Hara… was it… flustered?

“Um, yes, uh, right. Your suit,” he’s looking around at his screens again, trying to look busy but you can tell his gaze isn’t actually taking in any of the images. “We’ll get you a new one.”

The tension lessened and, more importantly, his eyes no longer on you give you back a bit of your confidence.

“You in charge of tailoring too? You really gotta learn to delegate, spider-boss.” He doesn’t say anything. Not even with you specifically trying to push his buttons with the nickname. “Okayy…” you elongate. “So, can I go now?”

He just grunts, not sparing another look toward you.

You start walking back across the platform but remember a detail of the mission you had wanted to tell him before making it too far.

“Oh, there was this thing with my watch —“ you start, but all words get caught in your throat when you see Miguel as you turn back toward him. He’s staring at you like a viscous predator just about to pounce. His chin is down but his eyes are on you, even darker than usual and penetrating. You can tell by the rise and fall of his ridiculously broad chest that his breathing is a bit labored. He’d clearly been looking lower than your face level, as his eyes shoot up to yours when you look at him.

Neither of you say anything for what feels like the longest, heaviest moment of your life so far. Then, in what feels like the quickest, he’s closed the distance between you, coming to a stop just in front of you, closer than he’s ever been to you before.

He’s towering over you. Any movement forward at all and you’d be touching. You’re sure he can feel your heavy breathing as you look up at him. You can feel his.

He looks like he wants to murder you. But Miguel O’Hara has a way of encoding all emotions into shades of anger and aggression. And you’ve watched him closely enough for long enough to sometimes think you have an idea of what lies beneath. You haven’t cracked it completely, but you certainly see shades of gray where others see black and white.

The stakes have never been quite this high for your getting it wrong, but hoping beyond hope that you know what he actually wants, you push your face the fraction of a distance to his, crashing your lips together.

From the moment they graze, his hands are on you, groping your exposed ass with one, pulling you into him with the other. He devours your mouth, so feral you even worry for a split second about his fangs coming out. You’re so consumed by him you probably wouldn’t mind if they did.

Not breaking apart from you, Miguel takes the few steps back to his desk, dragging you with him. When the backs of his thighs come up to the desk, he flips you around so that you’re pushed up against it. You’re caged between it and his broad body as his hands continue exploring your body, his tongue continues exploring your mouth.

At this point you can feel the huge bulge between his legs pressing against you, his spider-suit doing nothing to hide it, doing little to separate you from it.

When his mouth leaves yours, dragging hungrily down to your jaw and neck, you whine his name. He groans in response, and you feel the vibrations where your chests are flush.

Taking the opportunity to do something you’d often dreamed of, you lift your hand and run it through his thick hair. His moans get louder, and you take it as a sign scratch and tug harder.

You know you didn’t pull strongly enough to move him if he didn’t want to be moved, but he pops off from where he’s sucking on your neck and looks into your eyes. He gives you a harsh kiss then says simply, “Turn around.” You do. He bends you over his desk.

You feel his hands on your hips first then they squeeze your ass hard. He slaps your exposed cheek, and you jump at the sudden sensation.

“Tell me if I’m too rough,” he says, voice low.

You nod and confess, “I want it rough, Miguel. Please.” “Fuuck, chula. You drive me crazy.” You just whimper in response.

He spanks you again then tears your suit further, exposing your entire ass and your by now soaked cunt. “You walk in here with half your ass out like it’s nothing. Like you can show me what I spend my nights imagining and expect me not to do anything about it.” He slaps your other ass cheek. “You’re soaked, mami. You wanted this as badly as I did?” You nod desperately. “Tell me what you wanted.” “Fuck, Miguel. You. I wanted you.”

“You want me to fuck you?” You can already feel him messing with his suit.

“Yes, fuck, please; please fuck me.” When the head of his cock touches your cunt, your entire body shudders with anticipation. He pushes in forcefully, your wetness enough for him to start sliding in. But he’s big. Really big. As he keeps pushing, you feel a bit of a sting. When he hears you hiss, he slows his entrance but doesn’t stop entirely. “Relax, nena,” he coos. His hands massage your hips. “Breathe, baby.” You take a long inhale, and by the time you’re exhaling, you feel him finally bottom out. “Eso, mi amor. Just like that. Fuck, you feel incredible.” “Migueel,” you whine. “Yeah, baby, I got you.” His hands tighten on your hips as he slowly drags his cock back out until only his tip is inside. You’d never felt so empty. Then he pushes back in, faster than the first time. And again. And again.

Miguel’s pace quickens probably a bit faster than you’re ready for, but you love the intensity of the sensations. You love the feeling of him deep inside you, of him desperate to be deeper. You start rocking back in time with his thrusts, slamming your ass onto him.

“Fuuuck.” His voice is gravel. One of his powerful hands comes to your shoulder to help pull and push you at his now brutal rhythm. He fucks you with a stamina only possible for a superhuman. You’re sure you wouldn’t be able to take it if you weren’t one yourself.

The large room echoes your slapping skin, your yells and moans as he spears into you repeatedly.

Your thighs tighten as you start nearing your climax. Your cunt starts squeezing tighter. “Fuck, fuck, eso, nena, eso,” he chants, getting even rougher. His praises start sounding strangled, and you know he’s close too.

“Cum with me, Miguel,” you beg desperately. He groans animalistically at your words, giving you a strangled affirmative moan and pushing his pace to what you imagine is his limit.

“C’mon, baby, cum for me, cum for me,” he urges. It’s easy to let go with how hard he’s fucking you. You can’t really feel the rest of your body except for a hot heaviness. All you feel is where you’re connected and how every thrust sends pure pleasure coursing through you.

You’re orgasming a second later, and to the feeling of your clenching cunt and the sound of your euphoric screams, Miguel comes right after.

You’re unable to keep up your movements, too spent and too blissed out, but he keeps thrusting, albeit slower, until you’ve both rode out the hardest orgasms of your life. Then and only then does he still, still inside you, and collapse onto your back. His broad torso covers you completely, warming you despite how sweaty you are now.

His labored breathing on the back of your neck tickles, sending a shiver down your body. He chuckles and peppers kisses on your neck and shoulder, pulling your suit down to kiss at more skin.

He eventually lifts himself up; you were never going to push him off, that’s certain. You could spend forever under him, wrapped up in him.

His strong hands lift your especially malleable body, turning you to face him and helping support you as you lean back on the desk.

When your eyes meet, Miguel smiles at you. It stops your rapidly beating heart.

One arm around you, his other hand pushes sweaty hair off your face then lingers there, caressing.

“You okay?” he asks, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. You just nod. He laughs. “What?” you giggle. “So that’s what it takes to make you stop talking, huh?” “Shut up!” you tsk, shoving his wall of a chest. He doesn’t budge at all, just catches your hand in his, bringing it to his face and kissing it. His lips linger over the skin of your fingers, the back of your hand. You trace them lightly, and they shift into a subtle grin.

As you look into his big brown eyes, you’re pretty sure you know what this ever-thinning shade of serious is covering.

“Miguel?”

“Hm?” He pecks your hand again.

“All those missions… they weren’t ‘potentially significant’ were they?”

He lowers your hand but keeps it in his. His gaze follows your hands down, looking away briefly, but he’s looking into your eyes again when he shakes his head ever so subtly. You hum in understanding. He just needed to make sure you were okay after.

After a beat, you whisper, “Can we stop pretending?” “That the missions are special?” “That what we feel for each other isn’t…”

“Ah.” He looks torn. You know he thinks it’s dangerous, know he feels the weight of literally the entire universe on his shoulders. You lean up and kiss him gently.

“We can figure it out,” you whisper against his lips. His nose brushes yours as he nods then kisses you again.

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara fluff #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman fanfiction

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rooolt · 17 hours

Text

okay fun little game I’m gonna play, who would win bad kids 1v1 their rat grinder counterpart, under the cut bc I ramble (also I fully understand within canon I’m aware that the rat grinders have far less experience and that may affect their strategies in battle, but I’m trying to think largely mechanically bc I’m a loser who likes rules)

Adaine vs Oisin: I do think this one would be close bc ultimately wizard v wizard is rough and I think comes down to initiative order bc that’s gonna determine a lot of counterspells. For example, if oisin goes first, adaine has to decide whether to waste a counterspell on something he’d predictably summon as a conjuration wizard, which he himself then would probably counterspell, which does use his reaction meaning he can’t counterspell later in the turn, however if Oisin is 10th level or higher he can’t lose concentration on conjugation spells which means the only way to get rid of stuff that was conjugation would be dispel magic, but then that becomes a matter of whether or not adaine “wastes” her turn on that. Neither of them have healing spells, and adaine has portent and also summons, but one could assume Oisin has more stocked and is more built upon that so I think in a 1v1 he may be at a slight advantage. This one I think would be very close

Fabian vs Ivy: This is another one that I think can depend on circumstances bc ivy is a ranged fighter and so if she surprises him from far away, he’s not as good in ranged combat, however, in melee, Fabian is so stacked with battle master + swords bard + fandrangor, but as a ranger (? I think, the wiki says she is but I don’t remember) ivy could have healing spells on top of second wind as well, and while Fabian can know healing spells, idk if we’ve ever seen him cast them

Fig vs Ruben: she stomps his ass easy. Paladin and warlock levels are so good. If fig hits once + spirit guardians she can do seriousssss damage. Bards are largely support anyways and so I think pure bard against a multiclass is at a disadvantage. Also I don’t know what Ruben’s subclass is, but fig has cutting words so

Gorgug vs Mary Ann: I think Gorgug wins. Because if Mary Ann is strictly barbarian, no matter how good of a barbarian she is, gorgug has spells and artificer stuff to buff and heal himself as well. He also has clobeca which in a 1v1 is definitely beneficial. We don’t know much about mary Ann other than a very good strength score but I think brute forcing it vs more strategy gorgug could bring I think gorgug wins

Kristen vs Lucy: they’re kissing on the mouth

Kristen vs Buddy: this one is rough purely bc they’re both obviously support classes, and specifically subclass wise not particularly offense oriented. However, if Kristen goes first in initiative and gets off a successful banishment the fight could be over very quickly. Buddy is presumably a life cleric and based on the rat grinders and his vibe in general I think he’s probably even more healing and support based than Kristen and thus would be at a disadvantage during a 1v1

Riz vs Kipperlily: FIGHT I WANT TO SEE SO BAD GIVE ME A ROGUES 1V1 GIVE IT TO ME BRENNAN PLEASE!!!!!!!! Anyways, we have confirmed subclasses for them both and I think based off of them riz wins???. Like, kipperlily is a mastermind and mastermind’s abilities are largely social and to do with helping their allies and commanding them like that. Riz on the other hand is an arcane trickster and thus has spells. Now, it seems that kipperlily can turn invisible, whether this be oisin’s doing or not, if it is a thing kipperlily can do herself, we know riz has see invisibility and there’s still one eye of the vulture king left, so ultimately I think he could get around it. Both of them seem to have ranged weapons (kipperlily’s crossbow from the last stand) and so I think they would both probably attempt to stay hidden in ranged fighting in order to get sneak attack. It is very possible that kipperlily has various bullshit fuckyou items she could use, but with our current understanding I think riz is at an advantage due to his ability to use his subclass features

#I want riz v kipperlily more than anything show it to me Rachel please #This is the autism talking I love dnd mechanics I love them so much #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year

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devilmen-collector · 3 days

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The Fourth Realm

Ft. Klein (my MC/Angel AU), the Devil Kings (Beelzebub mentioned only), the Seraphim, Selaphiel, Bael, Bimet

Based on the Prologue of the Realm of the Seraphim

Angel AU explanation: in Angel AU, my MC Klein is a Seraph called Kleiniel. He frequently goes to Hell under the disguise of a devil with the name Klein to solve his sexual frustration. Even though it started as a purely physical and sexual relationship, Klein/Kleiniel managed to capture the hearts of the kings and nobles alike.

The devil Klein is thinking about a sexual brain rot he is having as he walks to the door of the Secret Club, which the kings have allowed him to visit whenever he likes, despite the fact that he isn't a noble nor a devil with a special position. That's the privelege he got for captivating the kings.

"I'm sorry, Sir Klein. You can't enter today." The guards at the door says as he stops Klein.

"What? Why?"

"The Devil Kings are having a very important meeting. They ordered us not to let anyone in."

An important meeting? If it's a meeting on Heaven, I have to hear it. Klein says to himself eyeing the guards and the door to the Secret Club.

"The Devil Kings have promised me that I can enter the Secret Club whenever I like. A promise is a promise."

The guards look at each other as they don't know what to do in this dilemma.

"One of you can go inside and ask the Kings. I'll patiently wait here."

"Then please wait here." One of the guards bows and goes inside the club.

~~~

"Your Majesties!" The guard interrupts the discussion and bows.

"Didn't I tell you not to interrupt the meeting?" Bimet says. "His Majesty Mammon and the other kings are having an important meeting."

"Well..." The guard falters.

"Speak." Leviathan says calmly.

"Well, sir Klein is outside the club and he wants to enter. He said Your Majesties had promised him that he could be in the club whenever he liked." The guard pants after letting the words all out.

"I never did." Leviathan says and scowls. He thought it was an emergency but it turned out to be a normal devil demanding his promised privilege. If Klein were standing right there, he would be hung immediately.

"I did." Mammon said.

"A promise is very important to devils. Let him in." Satan turns to the guard and says.

"Y-yes, I'll go tell sir Klein right away." The devil guard says and scurries out.

"You two know that this is an important meeting, even if you two did promise-"

"I know. But I also think it's a good idea if we have the opinion of a special devil who has no affiliation with any country." Satan says and he downs the liquor cup he's holding in his hand.

~~~

"Sir Klein, you can enter now." The guard says after returning to his position, outside the door of the Secret Club.

"Thank you." Klein throws them two gold coins "after your shift is done, go have a drink yourself."

It's always good to make connection. Klein smirks as he enters the club, while the the guards bow at him.

~~~

"Sorry for coming at an inconvenient time." Klein apologizes and comes sit between Satan and Mammon at the motions of the two kings. The waiter immediately hands him a drink. Leviathan eyes him suspiciously but Klein only smiles and waves at him. He also turns aside and greets Bael, who is here instead of the true king of Gluttony, Beelzebub.

"As I was saying before, we are going to attack the Realms of the Seraphim."

Klein nearly spits out his drink when he heard what Mammon just said. But he calms himself down before he could show a react that would be considered suspicious.

"The angels have managed to kill all descendants of Solomon, which means we can't have our contracts broken and we won't have full power. But we can't keep being in the passive."

"As we know, each Seraph takes it for his pride to kill one of us, plus Bell, that he finds most loathing."

Not me.

"Satan and his camp will attack the Gabriel's realm, Levi and his camp will attack Michael's realm, and Bael, please tell Bell and the Abyssos nobles to attack Raphael's realm."

"I can only hope I can find that bastard soon to relay the message."

"Alright, do we have any question?" Mammon asks as he looks around. Ultimately, his eyes fall on the uninvited guest of the meeting.

"Well..." Klein ponders. "What's about the realm of the fourth Seraph? I heard he rose up to become a Seraph after Lucifer fell and he has a mysterious origin."

Mammon smiles as if he has been waiting for the question.

"As for the fourth Seraph, he has no enmity with any of the kings. From the intel, it's the most silent realm of the four and the Seraph in charge will only open the door to receive other Seraphim and some Cherubim. But Tartaros will provoke him and try to find what triggers him the most." Mammon smirks after telling everyone his plan.

Trigger my ass. The Seraph you are talking about is right here. Klein is pissed but he keeps his expression under control.

~~~

Even though I don't like them, I better tell the other Seraphim. I also need to reinforce the barrier protecting my realm. Klein ponders as he walks. Suddenly, he collides with someone and nearly fell, but the other person managed to catch him.

Klein looks up and sees a devil towering over him. However, what makes him shaken up and his legs feel weak is the identity of that devil. Klein, or rather Kleiniel, knows the devil very well, although he only learned about him through books and paintings in Heaven.

L-Lucifer? God, he's much more beautiful than the depiction of those paintings. The cheeks of the fake devil become pink just looking at God's first creature.

"You-" Lucifer opens his mouth to say something but Klein shouts "eeek" immediately because Lucifer's voice is so beautiful that he immediately has an erection.

"S-sorry." Klein snaps himself back to reality and leaves hurriedly. Not good, not good, the Kings are beautiful and sexy but the traitor is on another level. If I'm not careful, my secret could be exposed.

The image of Lucifer still linger in Klein's mind when his six wings soar back to Heaven at a place far from the city.

However, it was because Kleiniel was having the image of Lucifer constantly in his head, he didn't notice someone following him.

So that's the new Seraph. Did God create him to replace me? Lucifer contemplates as he can't help but let the flame of envy spark.

~~~

The three Seraphim enter the chapel of Kleiniel's realm, which is the exact replica of the Sistine Chapel on Earth. The youngest Seraph adores the chapel. It was told that he even kidnapped Michaelangelo and other artists to force them to recreate the chapel as exactly as how it was on Earth. The Seraphim walk inside and find Kleiniel kneeling before the altar, praying.

"What did you call us here for?" Michael angrily asks, almost like he is threatening Kleiniel. After all, the three Seraphim never consider him to be their brother and they have never said anything good to or about him.

"The devils are preparing to counterattack." Kleiniel states as he gets up and turns to face the other Seraphim. "They will attack our realms. And each of you will have to face the one you find most loathing."

"Why should we trust you?" Michael questions Kleiniel. Out of a the Seraphim, his paranoia on Kleiniel is the strongest.

"As a fellow Seraph, I feel that it's a responsibility to give you a forewarning. And as a leader of Heaven, I feel that it's my responsibility to preserve the solidarity of the land God created. A city divided against itself shall not stand." Klein looks at every Seraph in the eyes to show that he's trustful with his words. But of course, I won't let you kill those devils.

"Very well. My eye beam will have to pierce through that coffin, sooner or later, with or without your intel." Michael smiles and leaves the chapel first.

"When I manage to kill Satan, maybe I'll finally be able to treat you as one of our own." Gabriel also smiles and leaves.

However, Raphael doesn't leave. Instead, he grabs Kleiniel's collar and begins to sniff him.

"You met him, didn't you? Our brother." Raphael asks while smirking. But Klein keeps his mouth shut. To him, the best way to deal with the accusation coming from Raphael is to neither admit nor deny it outright.

"I can't wait for what will happen when your secret is out. I wonder what kind of punishment those two will give you. If I'm in good mood, you can be my pet then." Raphael turns around and leaves with a laugh.

"Or maybe I could crush all three of you and have Heaven for myself." Kleiniel says after everyone has left. His hand is caressing his golden pectoral cross.

Kleiniel takes out his phone and messages one of the angels he knows he can trust.

Kleiniel: [Selaphiel, please help me spy on the devil kings and nobles, using every mean at your disposal. Report back to me every word they say at their important meetings.]

Selaphiel: [Of course, you know I will do anything for you.]

Selaphiel: [Emoji]

Kleiniel can't help but blush at the emoji because the person on the emoji is doing something very suspicious with his hands. But he doesn't dislike it one bit.

Kleiniel: [Sure.]

Selaphiel: :D

Klein puts the phone inside his pocket, turns around and kneels down before the altar again.

"Holy God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal, have mercy on this unworthy servant of Thee. Glory be to the Incomprehensible and Infinite God, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen."

As he prostrates on the ground.

#what in “hell” is bad?#what in hell is bad #whb mc #whb mc: klein #whb leviathan #whb mammon #whb satan #whb bael #whb bimet #whb lucifer #whb selaphiel #whb michael #whb gabriel #whb raphael

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redsamuraiii · 2 days

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In every fandom, there will always be those that are quick to use the word "misogyny", in this case, some fans calling Toranaga misogynic. Either they have not been really paying attention or do not understand what the word really mean. So allow me to explain.

"Toranaga killed Mariko".

Mariko had always wanted to die since her family was persecuted. Possibly wanting to reunite with her family. And she sure as heck is not going to die for Buntaro or even with him. So Toranaga offered a death that satisfy her, a death for the greater cause which will save thousands, while getting her revenge against Ishido, a trusted vassal of the late Taiko that wiped out her entire family.

She was given a choice which she could refused, but she accepted it. Because she's a Samurai. She accepted her fate and responsibility to save others instead of running away to save herself. (Buntaro look down on Ishido for running away to save himself in Korea). Toranaga never intended to sacrifice her but had to as a last resort when he failed to get the loyalty of the Christian lords.

Crimson Sky cannot take place as he cannot siege Osaka with the enemy behind him (Christian lords from Nagasaki) or he'll be sandwiched between them and Ishido. That's when he resorted to an attack from within, with the help of Mariko. She expose Ishido's true intentions and make a fool out of him by showing everyone that he is no man to hold the women hostage and to even kill a woman.

"Toranaga killed Fuji's family."

Fuji's husband is a Samurai and knows his place, so when spoke out of turn when he shouldn't, the mistake was his. He not only show Ishido that Toranaga could not control his own men but he also show contempt to Ishido who would use it as a pretext to wage war on Toranaga and his supporters, as he's been waiting for an excuse to wipe them all out in a war that will kill thousands.

And to ensure that the child will not grow up to avenge the father's punishment, causing another civil war, the child was ordered to be killed, along with the father. Two lives sacrificed to save thousands, something a Daimyo (Lord) was to supposed to do, protect his people from war, if it can be avoided, which is what Toranaga have been striving for, to end conflicts without a war.

But who is to say, Fuji would not want to avenge the death of her family too? So instead of having her killed, he gave another form of punishment, to be a consort for the barbarian, Anjin-san, for a period of time, after which she is allowed to live but as a nun. Historically, many Samurai were pardoned provided they became a monk, as temples have no political affiliation that would pose a threat.

So it is not something that is exclusive to women, but to men too, which is common in the feudal era, not just Japan, but all over the world. That's why the medieval period is called the "Dark Ages" because things were messed up, that's how feudal system works. The right thing to do may not be the moral thing to do.

"Toranaga is hungry for power."

Well, yes. I mean how else can you end the senseless civil wars that have been going on for years without taking control of the country to unify it? If you do not become Shogun, someone else will. Someone else worse than you. Yes, they're all evil but Toranaga is the lesser of all evil. He does what he can to avoid a war while others like Ishido is constantly looking for excuses to start a war.

The Dictator killed monks, nuns and children. The Taiko invaded Korea, killing many and lost. Toranaga went to war once and he won. That's when he realized the horrors of war and is determined to avoid it. What if it means sacrificing your vassal and his family to save the rest of your followers and the people you're supposed to protect? The Dictator and Taiko took control because of greed.

Toranaga takes control because he wants peace.

The Dictator takes power because of greed, that he sees everyone as a threat that he starts killing innocents and even disrespects his own vassal, Akechi, Mariko's father which cause him to betray the Dictator to stop his madness. The Taiko takes power because of glory, he wants to show others that a peasant like him can achieve greatness to invade Korea and China.

There is a difference between taking power for thrill and glory, and taking power to protect your people from more wars.

#shogun #shogun fx #shogun 2024 #yoshii toranaga #mariko toda #usami fuji #period drama #jidaigeki #japan

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mattybraps10 · 2 days

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I Can See You | Brendan Brisson x Hughes!OC

Summary: Beer Pong and Lasting Connections.

Word Count: 786

By: M

Parts: part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

PART SIX:

“What do you want…” Brendan sighed, returning his head to his hands. “Dude, what’s up with you? You’re never like this, I don’t understand.” Quinn whispered, sitting beside Brendan and placing a comforting hand on his back.

“I just… I thought I was ready to see her again, I mean 3 years is a long time and… never mind.” He said, shaking his head.

Quinn just sat beside his friend, a confused look on his face as he tried to decipher the vague admission. He ran several scenarios through his head unable to comprehend the real reason for his behavior. It had never occurred to Quinn that someone would disregard their strict rules when it came to Phoebe. Before every teammate met her they were warned away and threatened with almost certain death (banishment from the Hughes household). Now that they were all adults, the rules had become more lenient, a testament to the trust in their friends.

“I just don’t understand you Brendan. You guys were so close, and then… nothing.” Quinn said, standing up and walking toward the door.

“I know, I mean I don’t, not really. I just, I need a minute to think is all.” He said, leaning back on the couch, a tear falling from his left eye, a poetic reminder of the pain he’d caused for both Phoebe and himself.

“You know I’m here whenever you need anything.” Quinn reminded him softly, resigning himself to return to the ever-louder festivities outside.

–

“YOU CAN’T DO THAT!!!” Phoebe yelled, crossing around the table and tackling her youngest brother.

“GET OFF OF ME!??!” He screeched, batting his arms at her as if she were a wild animal attacking him.

Jack and Matty burst into laughter watching Phoebe take Luke to the ground. Luke had been slowly replacing cups when he felt the other team wasn’t looking, and Phoebe had caught him almost immediately.

“Oh my god! I leave for a second?!?! What happened???” Quinn sighed, walking through the sliding door.

“Luke cheated! He violated the sanctity of this sport!” Phoebe yelled, her arms in a loose, but secure, chokehold around Luke’s neck.

“Luke?” Quinn asked, clearly disappointed in his younger brother.

“Well I mean… Having Matty AND Phoebe together was basically cheating anyway I mean they literally haven’t missed a single shot?? How is that fair?” He pouted, knocking Phoebe off his back, and standing up.

“You guys are such children!” He responded, picking up the cups that had spilled during the commotion.

They all laughed as they cleaned up the spilled beer, stacking the cups for a later date. Matty and Phoebe had found themselves reaching for the same cup, laughing as their hands brushed.

“Hey guys…” Brendan said, stepping onto the porch, effectively ruining the moment.

“Brendan.” Phoebe said curtly, a frown on her face.

“I’m sorry, I just… I really don’t know what came over me…” He sighed, dropping his heads into his hands once again.

“I- It’s fine Brendan, I know you didn’t mean anything…” Phoebe sighed, resigning herself to her ever-repeating fate. A life of chasing the man she knew she could never have, one she’d thought she’d left behind when she’d been with Matty. A faint glimmer of a different path, obscured by the leaves of a past love.

“Phoebe, why don’t we go inside and grab some hot chocolate, it’s getting kinda cold.” Matty said, placing a hand on her back as he steered her past Brendan and into the safety of the kitchen.

Matty began preparing the hot chocolate, asking Phoebe about school and life and the future. She felt herself opening up to him, her past with Brendan a distant memory with Matty’s presence. She was confused. Confused as to how she could feel so strongly about a man she’d just met. Confused as to why she still wanted Brendan, despite her earlier realization.

Matty finished the hot chocolate, taking a sip of his own as he offered Phoebe a mug. She grabbed the mug, wrapping her hands around the warmth.

“Why don’t we watch a movie on the couch?” Phoebe asked, grabbing Matty’s hand and leading him to the living room, a gentle smile painting her face.

“Jackson” He said suddenly, a blush creeping onto his face as he sat beside Phoebe.

“Huh?” She asked, confused about his random comment.

“My middle name, it’s not Ingrid, it’s Jackson.”

“Oh. I like that! Thanks for telling me.” She smiled, grabbing a blanket and draping it over them.

Even though his middle name was far from a secret, Matty found himself entranced by her thanks. She made it seem as if he’d shared a piece of himself with her, one she was proud to keep.

#hockey fanfiction #jack hughes #brendan brisson #brendan brisson x oc #luke hughes #quinn hughes #umich hockey #matty beniers

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rikis-girl · 23 hours

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Sign him up

Warnings: Ultra fluff , light humiliation. Pairing: Non-idol!Sunghoon x fem!reader Synopsis: When your're trying to stay mad at your bf but he's just too cute to ignore.

A/N: First time writing a drabble on tumblr with all this intro stuff... Hope it works!

You were standing there, awkwardly in a corner at a party with all of your boyfriend's friends while they had the time of their lives. You were supposed to be accompanied by Sunghoon and introduced to his gang tonight but said Ice prince was nowhere to be seen. "_____ Noona, where is Sunghoon hyung? He said he's bringing the samgyeopsal." Riki asked. "I don't know Riki. I tried calling him like 20 times and he hasn't picked up or noticed anything." The dejected pouty skyscraper walked away and decided to attack Jake, as you recalled; the sweet and funny Aussie boy.

The party came to an end as you managed to make yourself acquainted with most of the boys except for Heeseung who seemed to be a bit occupied with his phone. "Need a ride _____ noona? I'm sure Jay hyung can drive you to your place" Jungwon asked. "Sure might as well get home if he's not coming." "Sunghoon hyung is gonna get an earful tonight!!" Riki snickered and you just laughed with him. "Oh he sure is."

You walk into your shared apartment with your "lovely" boyfriend only to see him sorting out the skittles on the floor and his phone on silence on the other side of the room.

"Care to explain why you invited me to a party with your gang and not show up yourself?" An intimidating gaze fell on Sunghoon. "The party is next week darling. Besides, I did all this for you because I know you like grape and strawberry best!" Sunghoon said with his eyes sparkling, looking up at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

"Check your phone Park Sunghoon. And the calendar." "Dang the full government name?" Sunghoon went to get his phone and checked the calendar. Ohh boy was he in trouble. "I-I-I didn't mean for this to happen.... Dang it how could I forget?" Sunghoon paced back and forth, phone in his hand checking all the missed calls, the posts from his gang, the 54849 messages from Riki asking if he was alive or not. Sunghoon turned to you and in a desperate attempt to ease your anger, pulled you in by the waist, "Love I'm so so soooo sorry, how can I make it up to you?" "Sorry isn't going to fix this Hoon. You didn't show up to our dinner reservation, and I was fine with that. The movie? It's ok, totally understandable. The opening of my friend's cafe? Sure, no biggie. But the introduction of me to YOUR gang? How could you forget to show up to the party YOU planned and the friends YOU invited and grew up with? And what about your socially awkward girlfriend who had enough troubles talking to men?" You fumed and poked his chest accusingly.

Sunghoon remembered the time when the two of you met. Jake found out with the help of his friend Lia that you liked Sunghoon as much as he liked you. Your first date was extremely awkward with both of you too flustered to say anything, Sunghoon panicking, looking at his crush and you, having to talk to your crush and facing the fact that you were never able to be comfortable around men. It took you over 7 weeks to form proper sentences with each other let alone have any conversation. This is why you two ended up waiting an entire year before introducing each other to your close friend groups. despite everyone knowing about you.

"Princess I'm sorry, I don't know what else to do right now." Sunghoon pleaded with both his hands gently cradling your head. "Punch me if that'll make you feel better, please." He begged, guiding your hand to his abdomen.

"Why would I punch you? And what difference would that make you gym addict?" You sassed. Not being able to take any more of it, you start giving him the silent treatment. Walking to your room, you pulled a blanket and a pillow and made a makeshift bed on the couch and pushed Sunghoon's favorite plush onto it.

Without a word, you continued to the bathroom to wash up with Sunghoon following you like a lost puppy and getting the bathroom door slammed in his face.

"Princess please I'm sorry!!! Talk to me!!! You're torturing me!!!" Sunghoon wailed as you go on with your nightly schedule. "That's the point, dimwit." you mumble to yourself.

You exit the bathroom and had Sunghoon following you again, towering you from behind like a shadow. "Won't you even look at me?" He asked, pulling you into his arms and holding your jaw trying to meet your averting eyes.

"Please??" He pouted, eyes shimmering with tears ready to spill, red, puffy cheeks and scrunched up bushy eyebrows. "I. MUST. RESIST." you repeat to yourself and avoided all eye contact with your boyfriend.

"Why won't you even look at me? Spending 3 hours without you just sorting skittles was punishment enough." He pouted, getting to your eye level forcing you to look at him. He presses his lips to a thin line and tries to use his eyes to woo you to forgiving him and as much as you hate to admit it, it was working a little too well.

"Princess I'll do anything for you, absolutely ANYTHING!" He begs. And after a moment's consideration, you give in. "Fine. BUT, you owe me this." you point to the 'anything I want' card that you two came up with. "All yours love." Sunghoon handed it to you, gleaming with joy.

Two hours later and your all snuggled up next to him and he plays with your hair, spooning you from the back. "So pretty, all mine." He mumbles in your hair before leaving multiple kisses on your head.

A week later, Sunghoon showed up to work in the most adorable puppy scarf with fluffy ears adorning his head. "About time we saw you miserable after standing up _______ noona." Riki snickered, watching him walk in with his cheeks and ears beet red and his suit adorned with a fluffy bowtie instead of his go-to black sleek tie. "It was worth it." he said, swallowing his pride and dignity as he remembered you with shining eyes, cooing over him all morning, making him late because he looked "adorable". If being humiliated at work got him your full attention and adoration,

. Sign him up.

A/N Hope you liked it!! Will update more frequently once my exams are over!!

#enhypen #fluff #fanfiction #too soft #fluffy Sunghoon #hes so babygirl #sunghoon #park sunghoon #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #sim jake #kim sunoo #enhypen niki #niki #nishimura riki #heeseung #jungwon

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plagues02 · 2 days

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Party of Five

Summary: Laios and a lone tall man defeat a monster together, and the party offer to share a meal with him. Characters: Wash(Oc), Laios Touden, Marcille Donato, Chilchuck Tims, Senshi Word Count: 1183

“How much further are we going to walk today?” Marcille whined, leaning against her staff.

The deeper they got into the dungeon, the longer the days seemed, the more monsters they faced and ate. Today felt especially long after a chance encounter with a hoard of scorpions, followed by a swarm of treasure insects.

Senshi looked back at her, “There’s an opening we can camp at close.”

Close meant another twenty minute walk. By the time Senshi mentioned they were almost there, everyone was hungry and tired of this day. Even Laios wasn’t as parky as he usually was.

Turning the corner, they were startled to see a battle in progress. An armored tallman jumped back, getting out of the way of the snake side of a basilisk, followed by a swing of his blade. The basilisk hissed, snapping at him again.

The shock disappeared fast as Laios pulled his own sword out, joining the battle. The other tallman saw him out of the corner of his eyes, changing his battle plans. Laios went right so the man went left. Without words, the two knew what the other was doing, and when there was an opening, they attacked both sides, ending the monster.

With the battle over, the party got a better look at the newcomer. He was short for a male tallman and very rough looking. Long blonde hair, pulled back out of his face, but his face was still covered with a beard. His tired blue eyes were framed in glasses. The man looked at them.

“Are you okay?” Laios is the first to speak.

The man hesitated before nodding. “Yes,, thank you. These guys are hard to face alone,” he replied sheathed his sword.

The fellow tall man chuckled, “Yeah, well, where’s your team? They must be worried about you right now.”

The silence that followed spoke volumes.

“Whaaaat? You came this far alone?!” Marcille exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing this far alone?!”

The man rubbed the back of his neck, unable to look at her. “I was, um, well, trying to go deeper. Last I heard from my siblings, they were somewhere in the dungeon, and um, I’m looking for them.”

“Alone?! Are you crazy?!”

“Woah, Marcille, calm down,” the half foot turned to face her, despite sharing her opinion on the matter. “I think you’re scaring him.”

A clap from the dwarf caught their attention. They turned to look at the man as he walked towards the dead monster. “You helped kill this basilisk, care to join us for a meal?”

The tallman opened and closed his mother, not finding the right words. He turned to the others while pointing at the monster with a raised eyebrow; their nods confirmed his thoughts. He took a moment to process before his thoughts were cut off by the growl of his stomach.

“You know what? I have nothing to lose.”

The tall man helped with cooking by chopping a few vegetables the party had leftover while Senshi got the water ready for soup. Laiios was busy preparing the meat, and Marcille and Chilchuck worked on setting up their camp. It was quiet as they worked before the newcomer suddenly jolted up, causing all eyes on him.

“Oh! I never introduced myself,” he realized. “I’m Wash.”

“Marcille,” the elf said. “I can’t believe a child like you would come in here without anyone.”

“I’m 36-”

“Give it a break, Marcille,” the half foot said. “We all agree he’s dumb for that.” He turned to the tallman. “I’m Chilchuck.”

“Senshi, it means seeker in dwarvish,” the dwarf replied, taking the vegetables to add them to the broth.

The tall man turned to the other tallman, who was staring at him. The two stared at each other for a while; Wash glanced around at the others who were also confused by the silence. Until finally,

“I know you.”

“Huh?”

“Oh! I’m Laios, do you remember me?!” His demeanor changed to excitement.

The room fell to silence minus the sound of Senshi’s cooking; the small of the basilisk soup filled their nostrils and made their mouths water. Their stomachs also began to growl. Wash started to feel awkward with the eyes of Laios on him before it finally clicked.

“Oh wait, you were stationed under me,” Wash said. “Right?”

“Stationed under you?” Chilchuck questioned.

The older tall man smiled a little, eyes softening. “Back in the army. I was a general, up until recently. Laios was a soldier under me. Surprised that you recognized me, kid.”

“So am I.” “Yeah” Marcile and Chilchuck whisper to each other.

Laios laughed. “Almost didn’t! You…” his voice trailed off, but Wash knew what he was going to say. His appearance wasn’t as well kept as he once was.

“Dinner’s ready!” Senshi cut into their conversation.

“Have you really not eaten in almost two days?” Marcile asked with wide eyes, staring at the tall man who was on his third bowl of soup.

“Yup.”

“You need to eat properly in a dungeon! Bad things happen when you go around hungry!” Senshi exclaimed; the look on the others’ faces showed they knew this well.

“Yeah, how have you survived this long on your own?” Chilchuck stared in shock.

Wash rubbed the back of his neck, placing the bowl on the ground. “Well, I guess I just did. When I got to the Island, my mind was and still is just on the dungeon and finding my siblings; it took forever to just get to the dungeon.”

“Are you sure your siblings are here?” Laios asked.

The older one nodded. “Allison sent me a letter, telling me she found Leo, and that they were hiding in a lower level. I,, I have to find them; it’s hard to explain.”

Laid rubbed his chin in thought as he nodded. Wash went back to the soup; it felt like no matter how much he ate, he was still hungry. Curse his stupid body and oversized stomach.

“Come with us.”

“Huh?/What?” The elf and half foot turned to look at Laios with wide eyes as Wash looked up at him mid bite.

“Think about it, we’re going deeper, he needs to go deeper, and he’ll be an extra fighter,” Laios explained his reasoning.

Wash placed the spoon down in his bowl. “And why are you going deeper?”

The group fell silent for a few seconds before Laios spoke again, “Do you remember Fali? My sister I used to talk about? She was eaten by a dragon; we need to get to her before she’s digested.”

The older man stirred the soup, thinking about it. “,, I suppose this would benefit us all, but only if everyone agrees, I’ll tag along. If anyone doesn’t want me to, I won’t.”

Laios looked at the rest of the team with begging eyes. Any disagreement fell on deaf ears, and before they knew it, the party of four became a party of five.

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