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pathologicalreid · 13 hours

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don't say nothing | S.R.

gemini part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, "good girl" (you can tear it out of my cold dead hands), alcohol, fwb, oral fixation, consent, idiots in love, praise kink, gun violence, jealous spencer? unprotected pinv sex, word count: 3.73k a/n: posting smut twice in a row who the fuck am i?? anyways, everyone's favorite idiots in love are back. i used the song don't say nothing by del water gap to provide me with inspiration.

part one

please say something, cause I've been growing lonesomer each day

Penelope threw her arms up in frustration as you walked through the front door of O’Keefe’s, “I was beginning to think you were ditching us.” She got up from the booth, letting you slide in so that you were next to the wall – across the table from Spencer.

Things with him were as awkward as ever. The two of you were like a rubber band getting stretched, every time the tension became too much, you snapped and ended up in bed together - or in the academy showers, but that was just the one time. Looking at him now, the rubber band felt taut.

“I took the liberty of getting you this,” Garcia announced, a broad smile on her face as she pushed the glass toward you.

Raising your eyebrows, you eyed the beverage suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. An undetermined liquor slid down your throat as you tried to hide the distaste from your expression. Penelope had a taste for sweet, sugary drinks, it was the main reason she usually ended up puking first at girls’ night.

Spencer noted the look on your face, discreetly sliding his glass of water toward you. Thank you, you mouthed to him, earning a slight smile in return. “So, where’s this friend of a friend that you’re trying to set Y/N up with?” Luke asked, standing at the open end of the table.

In your periphery, you saw the smile immediately drop off Spencer’s face. Feeling his eyes on you, you shifted on the supple leather of the booth and looked over at Penelope.

“He said he’d show up later,” she said, lifting her own glass to her lips and sipping out of the straw.

That was enough for you to know that it would never work between the two of you. You needed someone who was punctual. Someone who wouldn’t ghost you at the last moment. Huffing, you sat back in the seat, wondering how long you’d have to stay out before it was socially acceptable to go home.

You took about thirty minutes before asking your teammates to let you out of the booth under the guise of needing fresh air. Luke asked if you wanted to move out to the patio, but you waved him off before walking out the front door.

The spring air kissed your skin as you avoided pedestrians until you made it to the outer wall of the bar, leaning against the cool bricks and sighing.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, walking out of the bar, and approaching you.

Avoiding eye contact, you watched people’s shoes as they walked by – heels, sneakers, sandals. “I’m fine, Spence,” you answered simply as your heart begged you to meet his hazel eyes.

You closed your eyes as he reached out, gingerly placing his hand flat on your ribcage. “You had a close call last week,” he said matter-of-factly, referring to a shot you had taken to the chest while on a case last week.

Shrugging, you opened your eyes again, “I was wearing my vest, barely even hurts anymore.” Spencer had been on sabbatical at the time, but he still came to visit you during your overnight stay in the hospital. You were left with a gnarly bruise to the ribs, and Emily had benched you for two weeks.

Tired of your refusal to meet his eyes, Spencer hooked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it until you could make out the gold of his eyes. He looked through the window of the bar, checking for something before he tugged you further from the glass. You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was looking for before his lips were on yours in the alleyway.

Spencer Reid had a habit of kissing you like you were a last meal, with open, messy kisses that made your lovelorn chest ache.

“Garcia’s friend didn’t show up?” He asked, pulling away from you just enough to get the words out.

Shaking your head, you reached up a hand and threaded your fingers through his hair, “Nope.” You cocked your head to the side as the two of you fell into your familiar pattern, “I’m glad I didn’t agree to the date. Could’ve been a fatal blow to my self-esteem,” you told him while thinking of a good way to navigate your current situation.

He also had a habit of making your mind go blank when his lips were on you, and you almost lost it when he groaned against your mouth, “His loss.”

Your breath hitched when he used his knee to part your legs, placing an agonizing pressure on your sex as you resisted the urge to grind on his thigh.

“Hey, Y/N?” He murmured in your ear before pressing gentle kisses on the side of your throat.

Humming, you bit your lip, “Yeah?”

Detaching his lips from the soft skin of your neck, Spencer pulled away to look at you, “Thank you for not agreeing to the date.”

Your body slouched against the wall, “I can’t do this again,” you confessed. The words slipped out of your mouth too easily for it to be a lie, even if you never meant for them to come out.

Spencer took a step back, removing himself from you entirely, “What do you mean?” He asked, watching as you frantically smoothed down the front of your dress and caught your breath.

“Why do I keep doing this to myself?” You muttered helplessly, once again averting your eyes from the man standing in front of you. Taking a shaky breath, your heart pounded so violently in your chest that you thought it might burst.

Catching out at you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your waist before you could walk away from him. “Baby, what are you talking about?” He asked you urgently.

There it was again, baby. It was like a key in a lock, causing everything to pour out of you. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Isn’t that funny? You’re there, haunting my every move, and none of me occupies even a fragment of your mind.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes as he processed what you were saying to him, “It’s me?” He said, hazel eyes flickering over your face.

“Of course, it’s you, Spencer,” you said exasperatedly, afraid of years of longing coming out in a random alleyway in the district. Tears pricked at your eyes as you silently pleaded for him to say something.

Bewilderment was pasted on his face as he opened his mouth to speak, shut it, and then opened it again. “The person. Your one person that you’d say yes to. I’m your one.” He clarified, trying to get a hold on the situation.

Nodding miserably, you reached up and placed your hand over your heart as if you could staunch your bleeding heart, “You’re my one, and every time we’re together, you’re thinking about someone else.” It wasn’t an accusation; you knew he had feelings for someone else. He had told you just as much at Dave and Krystall’s wedding. Two months ago. Wiping underneath your eyes, you gathered whatever was left of your dignity and walked away from the situation.

As you walked back to your car, you were vaguely aware of people staring at you. You knew that you had played just as big of a role in your own destruction as Spencer had, maybe even more. You never should’ve had sex at the wedding, but you had sought comfort in one another.

Fishing around in your purse, you pulled your keys out, only for them to be scooped from your hands. “Hey!” You shouted in frustration, gaining the attention of passersby as they wondered whether or not they needed to call 911 or stay out of a lover’s quarrel. Shooting daggers at Spencer, you refrained from stomping your foot in frustration lest you look like a petulant child. “Give me my keys, Spencer,” you insisted, holding your hand out impatiently.

“Not until you talk to me,” he responded. He was out of breath, meaning he had run to catch up with you – a feat in and of itself.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, “There’s nothing left to talk about, Spencer.”

He took a moment to catch his breath before looking around, “There is everything to talk about. I have to talk to you.”

Weighing your options, you reached out for your car keys, which he let you take, and unlocked the car. “Get in,” you offered halfheartedly, wiping your cheeks before getting into the driver’s seat.

Silently, you started the drive, taking a right onto the next street. “This isn’t the way to your apartment,” Spencer observed anxiously.

You shook your head as you turned on your turn signal to merge onto the highway, “No, it’s the way to yours.”

Residences had been off-limits during your illicit affair, but each member of the BAU had the ability to get to each other’s homes. It was more of a safety concern than anything else. Since you’d never been to Spencer’s apartment before, you needed him to guide you through the lobby and up the stairs. To your chagrin, he did that by taking your hand in his and having you follow him.

Looking around once he unlocked the door, the first thing you noticed was that the space was so… Spencer. From the green walls to the stained-glass window to the piles of books, it all just seemed so fitting for him. “Sit,” he said with an authoritative tone as he made his way back to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water.

“What do you want to say, Reid?” You said, leaning back in an armchair as you looked over at him, taking calculated breaths.

Disappointment filled his eyes, “Don’t call me that.” There was something in his eyes that resembled fear, but you couldn’t quite place the reason.

Narrowing your gaze, you tilted your head to the side and feigned ignorance, “Everyone calls you that.” You challenged, even though you supposed it wasn’t true.

“You don’t,” he responded simply. It was true, over the years you had never called him Reid. Dr. Reid and Spencer Reid, yes, but never just Reid. To you, he had always been Spencer or Spence. “When you do it, it feels so… impersonal. Detached.”

You blinked, not expecting him to have said that. Your relationship with Reid had always been personal. From back when you were just friends to whatever miscellany of emotions you had now. “I didn’t mean for it to be,” you admitted defeatedly, fiddling with the buttons on your cardigan. Although maybe you had intended to detach yourself from the situation by referring to him with a name that felt less personal.

In your periphery, you saw him looking dejectedly at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Will you please look at me?”

Swallowing thickly, you closed your eyes, “I can’t.” Your voice was no more than a whisper as you admitted the truth, one look in his eyes, and you’d break your heart even worse.

“At first, I thought it was easier for me to just say I was interested in someone else because I was under the impression that you were interested in another man,” Spencer told you candidly. “My idea was that I could keep you close to me until you felt ready to move on, and that would just have to be enough.”

Staring blankly ahead of you, you reached out to grab your water from the coffee table, taking small sips as you struggled to digest what he was saying to you.

You shut your eyes tightly at the vulnerability in the room, opening them to find Spencer knelt in front of you. “What I didn’t realize was that a fraction of you would never be enough, not for me.”

Burying your face in your hands, you avoided his eyes as the gravity of his admission weighed down your shoulders. “Spence,” you begged. He needed to stop. He was toeing the point of no return.

“I am so devastatingly in love with you,” he admitted. “I didn’t know how deeply it ran until the wedding, but I just couldn’t get myself to let you go.”

Spencer pried your hands off of your face, revealing teary eyes. You let your body slide off the chair until you knelt in front of him, knee to knee. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

Quickly, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your body flush against his, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you answered, surprised at how easily the words rolled off of your tongue. Taking your time, you slung one arm over his shoulder, reaching the other up so you could put your hand in his hair. You relished in his groan as you tugged lightly at the strands.

You couldn’t help the whine that passed through your lips as he pulled away from you. He got to his feet before helping you up, and once you were standing, his lips were back on yours.

Leading you to what you assumed was his bedroom, you felt your blood heat up as he pushed your cardigan off of your shoulders. As you reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, you grinned against his lips.

Sat on the edge of his bed, you parted your knees and pulled his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants before fumbling with his belt buckle. Disconnecting your lips so that you could look at what you were doing, he took the opportunity to duck his head and take your earlobe between his teeth. As he nipped at the soft skin, goosebumps spread where you were bare, leaving you in need of more. More of him.

Once you got his belt undone, you made quick work of the button and zipper on his slacks, sliding them down over his hips and ass while his hands made their way up your dress. “Spence,” you said breathlessly, trying to push his pants further down. Understanding your plea, he stepped out of them entirely, kicking them to the side.

Spencer drew away from you just enough to tug your dress off of your body, tossing it off to the side and gently guiding you so that your back was flat against the mattress. You watched in anticipation as he pulled his t-shirt off, the movement allowing for the tip of his cock to peek over the elastic of his boxers. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered, the softness of the words taking you by surprise, “Always so pretty for me, baby.” He gently traced his finger over your bruise as a shadow of worry crossed his features, but it was gone as quickly as it showed up.

His words spurred you on to pull at his underwear, trying to take them off, but you simply didn’t have the arm span to do it on your own. “I wanna touch you,” you confessed, “Can I touch you?”

“I need to be in you,” Spencer answered, pulling his boxers off before kneeling in front of you, eyes widening when your legs fell open. Expertly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your underwear, dragging them off in one swift motion and leaving the both of you completely bare.

Your mouth parted when his hand reached your wet heat and two fingers entered you tantalizingly slowly. “I thought- ah- no touching,” you complained. It was a halfhearted complaint because really, there was nothing to be bothered by.

Reaching down, your hand grabbed his wrist, trying to slow his ministrations. “You’re so responsive for me,” he murmured, continuing to move his fingers in and out of you and watching in fascination as your hips bucked off of the mattress involuntarily.

“Fuck,” You said, screwing your eyes shut as that all too familiar knot started to form in your lower belly. “Spence, baby- I’ll…” A low whine escaped your throat as he withdrew his fingers from your core. “Spencer,” you said in frustration, opening your eyes to see him inspecting your slick that had been left on his fingers.

Like a rehearsed routine, he placed his hand in front of your face, prompting you to incline your head forward and wrap your lips around his index and middle finger. As you swirled your tongue around his fingers, he watched you with an undying interest. “Good girl,” he muttered, the praise causing your sensitive cunt to clench around nothing.

Taking his hand back, you looked down as he used his now free hand to line his cock up with your entrance. Laying one of your hands at the side of your head, he used his other hand to intertwine your fingers before he pushed into you. Instead of tossing your head back like you normally would, you looked up at him, watching as he hilted himself in you. “Spencer,” you whispered.

“Are you alright?” He asked, checking in with you as he placed his free hand on the other side of your head.

You nodded quickly, “It just feels different this time.” Your heart clenched at your own admission. You weren’t using each other as an escape anymore.

Spencer hummed in understanding, leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he whispered, “I love you so much.”

Your breath hitched as he tentatively thrust in you like he was testing the waters. “I love you,” you responded in kind, your voice higher than usual.

The response was enough encouragement for Spencer to keep going, he tucked his face in the crook of your neck, gently biting the skin as he set the pace. Small gasps escaped your throat every time his hips met yours.

As usual, your sounds spurred him on, seemingly trying to make you as vocal as possible, he used one hand to reach up and grope your breast. While his fingers pinched at your nipple, you wrapped your legs around his torso, locking your ankles together behind him. He lifted his head, moving his lips against yours in hurried, messy kisses that only aided the knot building in your stomach.

You didn’t have the capacity to warn him before you came undone beneath him, your orgasm coming over you as you whined into his mouth. Your walls clenched around him so tightly that Spencer had a hard time keeping his pace before it became too much.

Sighing contentedly as he filled you, you ran your hands down his back as he continued working through both of your orgasms. You whimpered as he continued fucking his cum into your oversensitive hole until your head went fuzzy, “Spence.”

He stuttered to a stop, staying inside of you for just a beat under he pulled out, causing you to flinch as you were left empty. “Are you alright?” He asked, still breathing heavily – not that you were faring much better.

Nodding, you blinked rapidly as your lungs tried to catch up with the rest of you, “I’m perfect,” you answered dazedly.

Spencer smiled at you, “You are. Perfect, that is.” He sat next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your bare hip, affectionately dragging his fingers over the skin. “You need to go pee,” he said suddenly, furrowing his brows at you.

You couldn’t help it as you erupted in a fit of giggles, resulting in an adorably confused look from Spencer. “Sorry, it’s just you telling me that I need to go pee – it’s funny,” you told him, biting your lip to muffle your laugh.

“Have you not been peeing after sex?” He was clearly appalled as if the idea of you not peeing after sex was abhorrent to him.

Rolling your eyes, you propped yourself up on your elbows, “Of course, I pee after sex, Dr. Reid,” you put extra emphasis on his honorific. “And I will pee just as soon as I’m sure my legs aren’t going to give out of me when I stand up,” you explained to him, reaching out and placing a hand on his knee.

He looked at you seriously, “You know, there are some studies that say the sooner after sex you urinate the less likely you are to contract a UTI.”

“Oh my god,” you said, “Don’t say the word urinate at me while I’m naked in your bed.” You complained, clambering up and making sure you were steady before you walked to the ensuite.

Later on, you were laying in bed next to Spencer, your head was resting on his chest while he kept you tucked into his side. You flinched as a phone started ringing, you sat up and looked around for your phone. Please don’t be a case, you silently hoped as you searched the sheets for your phone.

Once you finally grabbed it, you saw Penelope’s contact flashing across the screen. Swiping the screen, you put the phone up to your ear, hearing loud music on the other end of the call. “Hey, Penny,” you said, smiling as Spencer reached out and pulled you back into him.

You adjusted your t-shirt over your skin, having made Spencer go out to your car for your go-bag so that you could have clean clothes to sleep in. He slipped his hand under the cotton of your shirt, placing his hand flat on your bare skin. You tried to greet Penelope again when she doesn’t respond.

“Hey!” Her voice chimed in through the speaker, “Where’d you go? Jason just got here!”

Frowning, you pulled your phone away and looked at the time – just past eleven o’clock. You sighed, letting your body meld into Spencer’s, “Tell him that someday he’ll find a girl with equally as atrocious time management skills as him.”

You heard some rambling on the other side of the call, and wondered how many members of the BAU made it out this late. “Okay, but where are you?”

Humming, you peered up at Spencer who had, unsurprisingly, pulled out a book to read before bed. “I’m right where I need to be,” you told her earnestly, wondering if she could hear your voice's smile as Spencer kissed your forehead softly.

tagged, if you asked for a part two: @donttrustlove @jumpingjackalope @bippityboppityboob1tch @makingbloodbaths1 @sammyreidslut

@evvy96 @mus3y @nnab @basicallynotbreathing @hell0kitty11

@tatilolz @radioactiveinvisible @lamentis-10 @k-corbett @discotitsposts

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simplydnp · 3 days

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be honest with me. what are the chances of a hard launch in june

anon this question goes back years. and the thing is. we have been right once before.

you ask me this this time last year? fuck no. i might even quip that dapg would come back before dnp would hard launch. well. look at us now.

and even then, you look back on the content they started with in the revival--it honestly kind of felt exactly like where we left off, only a lot more explicitly queer (we stan). and then... trying to see without my glasses 2. and bang, spooky week happened. and that shifted the balance. we suddenly got slo-mo replays of handholds. day, after day, after day, finishing with the absolute masterpiece of halloween baking cinnamon rolls. in all honesty it was so much more than i'd've ever expected from them. truly another post-baking universe.

and it never really slowed down. suddenly we had cat prom photos, catboy butlers, catboy dan w/ phil photography credit, theyre 'wrestling' --running us full throttle into gamingmas, the first since 2017. and every day we had a new thing to freak out over: standing close. golf jokes. and then... pinof reacts. i don't know what compelled them to do it but i do have speculations. genuinely, i think they wanted to defang a lot of their history. we treated pinof 1, especially, with this... reverance. and it wasn't talked about too publicly--and dnp didnt do it either. so if they really wanted to move on, to bring down the walls, open the floodgates, define this new era: they had to throw the first stone. and they did. quite heartily too. suddenly this almost taboo part of their history--almost too intimate to be perceived--was on the table. and we were talking about it. joking about it. giving clear signals of 'we see it, it's okay.' and suddenly we existed in a post-pinof reacts world. of anything, i would've never predicted they would've done that. absolutely wild. follow that with it takes two being so chill and fond. incohearant being so blatant and heartfelt. trombone champ being unhinged and chaotic. the genuine and sweet complimenting of each other in the red carpet video. devan wedding... happilyphoreverafter... we crashed forward in time. never knowing what would be next. where is the line? how far will they go.

they teased us with japhan honeymoon and we knew 2024 would be wild. but we didn't know how much. from wdapteo 2023, to specific reminiscing about japan w/ devan, WAD happening, and phil playing a huge role in it all--from the orange carpet hosting, to 'ive been in *sex noises* with phil from the start!', to 'remote crisis manager phil lester', to dan saying he can stay during the thank you.

one of the biggest videos so far this year was the tiktok likes one. i will be forever haunted by the dog eating cheeseburger and willy wonka tiktoks--theres some things i was never meant to know. and yet. they tell us. explicitly.

every single video on amazingphil since the return of dapg has mentioned or featured dan. there's been a palpable shift in the way they interact. have you seen the way phil has been glowing in videos lately? this guy is on cloud nine all the time. it's really not hard to see why.

the energy of keep or yeet w/ dan... the absolute Lack of pretense of it all. phan twitter... watch your step baby girl...

dan and phil fucking crafts. talk about an unexpected return. legacy defining, one might even say. we're still in this tailspin of what everything means and they drop this insanely iconic video on us. from the storytelling to the production to the aesthetic--and its all capped off by explicit handholding. yes, it was part of the sacrifice. but hand in hand, the heart dan ripped from phils chest in one, and the knife that did it in the other... oh boy. we're really in it now. and then they put it on fucking merch. genius. truly no one does it like them.

and the foot has been on the accelerator since. dan and phil connections, shuffleboard & mocktails, getting deep slumber party, acknowledgement & approval of fics (yes previously given but never like this)--hell, even the sims today was wild for 'is their love language horrible banter 👀'.

you didn't ask for an essay but i gave you one. all of this to say, they've been moving the line. quite intentionally so. they intentionally revived their joint branding. they are 'dan and phil' again, and seem happier than ever about it, and i think that means something. they're saying things they never would have before--out of the closet or not.

as for june... 5 years since coming out is a big deal. so is this year being 15 years of dnp. hell, so is this year for being the first out pride month where they're explicitly a duo and regularly making content together. they're sentimental, there will be something.

my craziest idea is reacting to their coming out videos ✌️😔 --but i don't think it'll actually happen. as for more realistic, i could see pride merch. and however that goes will be significant, in my opinion. i'm excited and curious.

i don't know if they'll hard launch. it's hard to put all of the implications, complications, and speculations back into the box once it's opened. dan's talked about it before--wanting to be able to fuck up and not be publically executed, instead, being able to learn and grow and work it out. i think that's a very understandable stance to have. very grounded. we'd have to ask him if tour/dapg has changed that now. i do think he's had some sort of life epiphany--whether it's about that specifically, only he can say. but i think it's there.

even if i portray a lot of level-headedness, i wear my clown nose with pride. sometimes the only option is to go with whatever is funniest at the time. they're both jokesters, so they could commit to a bit like that. but it's also like, it can be too serious for them to want to joke about. i don't know. i think we're in this almost beautiful state right now--the we know you know of it all. there's no expectations, no demands to be met, no obligations of types of content. they're happy. we're happy. it depends on if they feel ready. if they want to. we'll be here, always.

#that is to say. marraige hill is starting to get crowded boys. so if you could. do something about that. thatd be great #im sure there's things ive missed but basically it comes down to this: realistically? maybe. & thats a lot fucking closer than its ever been #theyre having fun. and that means im having fun #dnp #c.text #dan and phil #phan #<- for the fandometrics #answered

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chahnniesroom · 2 days

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to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?”

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.”

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach.

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball,

some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal.

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck.

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

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copperbadge · 2 days

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Lately, it's felt like every time I've started to work on writing, I'll just be getting into the rhythm of it when I get interrupted, either by work or the cats or because the time I'd booked in the library study room is up (you can only do two hours at a time, and only four hours a week total). It was getting to the point where I kept re-reading the same chapter or so of previous work but never managing to add to it.

So I tried an experiment this past weekend -- I found a really cheap rate on a local hotel room, and on Friday I took an overnight bag and a very old laptop with limited processing power and checked into a room about a mile from home for a quasi "staycation". I unpacked and had a quiet night on Friday, as prelude to working Saturday-Sunday. The idea was to write uninterrupted by other people, pets, the presence of all my Stuff around me at home, et cetera.

I had snacks but I also bought meals out, which was nice; I don't often order in or buy out when I'm at home. The way I set up was that I would do fifty minutes of writing with do-not-disturb engaged on my phone and then ten minutes of checking email, texts, etc. since often what pulls me out of writing is a text or an email that needs answering, or the anxiety that I'm missing one that would. If I set it so that every hour I check, well, nobody's going to die if something doesn't get answered in an hour, so the anxiety isn't there, and neither is the distraction. (I found a nice app for this, review later depending on how functional it continues to be for me, but it's a like $4 app called Forest.)

It worked pretty well -- writing for an uninterrupted hour, as long as I know what I'm working on, is very functional for me. I average about two thousand words, that way, though there is a limit to the number of hours I can put in. I ended up doing two hours in the morning and one hour in the afternoon, then switched from fiction writing to clearing out my tumblr drafts and some correspondence for the fourth hour. So it went something like

Go out and get breakfast, bring back and eat in room

Change into lounging clothes and do two one-hour sessions

Go out and get lunch, eat lunch out

Bit of a rest break back in the room

Two one-hour sessions, one of writing; when tired, switch to something that requires less creativity

Go out and get dinner, bring back and eat in room

And then in the evening the plan was to watch movies or catch up on reading, but I ended up being mentally weary, so instead I did some simple tarot reading. It was less divination or even meditation than just messing around, keeping the creativity stimulated; I did a couple of Creative Writing spreads, some very brief divination spreads (I nicked a nice three-card spread here that I mentally call He To Hecuba, and just used it in general rather than for a specific question) and then invented a spread when I was starting to get irritated that the same like, five cards kept coming up, more on this in its own post.

Sunday I did one more writing session but it was less successful, I think partly because what I was writing required a lot of research and partly because the previous day I'd dumped eight thousand words into the file. (Research took longer because I brought the most garbage laptop known to man, and the browsers crash if you try to open Google Maps, but in other ways it was ideal since there wasn't much I could do on it other than write.) But I had a good breakfast, got some rest, packed up easily enough, and headed home just ahead of the rain storm.

I don't think it's something I'll be able to do in that format especially often, since the deal I got on the hotel was an anomaly and Chicago lodging, even just AirBNB stuff, is stupid expensive. But in addition to helping get some work done it was a nice break, so I'm going to look into ways I could swing it on a perhaps monthly basis, or some other way to cheaply spend an entire day alone with decent access to a bathroom/snacks and a way to come and go easily. I've looked into coworking spaces before but they tend to be prohibitively expensive and don't really have the setup I'd prefer; there's a hostel on the north side with private rooms that I might try out but it doesn't seem significantly cheaper than a hotel. I might just have to pick one weekend a month and watch last-minute hotel price cuts where they simply want to fill a room for a day or two.

Anyway, functionally I wrote almost a fifth of a novel this weekend, and one that I wasn't feeling super on fire about; I'm feeling much better about it now that I've got some established plot going and I feel like I "know" the newer characters a bit better. (Also I'm enjoying writing Simon as someone who is absolutely entranced by his love interest and clueless that what he's feeling isn't mild antipathy because they met while fighting over ricotta.) So it was a big help, although if I were to put a budget line item in the Extribulum Press ledger for "writing staycation" it would wipe out my royalties surplus very quickly.

#writing #shivadhverse

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lissomeingenuestuff · 3 days

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CLARA BOW // charles leclerc - pt. 4

charles leclerc x figureskater!reader

part 1 part 2 part 3

summary: you're an aspiring olympic gold medalist who just wants to compete and have fun. on the way there, a handsome monegasque f1 driver slides into your dms and changes the trajectory of your life.

note: pt. 4 bby! i'm so excited to finally get into the main part of this story with you guys! you have no idea of the devilry i have planned 😈

cassievilleneuve

liked by y/n l/n, isabeau.levito, and 8,393 others

cassievilleneuve we weren't cool enough for the amex lounge 🥲

view all 134 comments...

carolinevilleneuve sleepy bears 🧸💙

y/n l/n at least my ass looks nice 🤷🏻‍♀️

cassievilleneuve speak for yourself i look like a potato 😭 thanks care

carolinevilleneuve anytime 😁

leclerclover43 y/n is so unserious i love her 😄 "at least my ass looks nice"

y/n l/n well it does, doesn't it?

leclerclover43 you're so right queen ofc it does 🤧

leclerclover43 also, any reason why you might be traveling?

y/n l/n 👀🤫

leclerclover43 oH

isabeau.levito vacation without me? 🥲

y/n l/n bby issy you have school!

isabeau.levito australia >>>>>>> school

isabeau.levito also, where did all these people come from? what did i miss?

carolinevilleneuve you missed the y/n x hot driver saga!? dm NOW

callsignice am i the only one wondering why y/n's going to australia literally like 4 days after the olympics ended? didn't she just get back home?

y/n l/n

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, and 22,691 others

y/n l/n cassie's man crush treated us to... whatever that is 😄

view all 213 comments...

cassievilleneuve i do NOT have a crush!!

y/n l/n bro be so fr i know more about him than i know about my own crushes 😭

sainzismysign don't be shy y/n, tell us, who's your crush 👀

y/n l/n i don't kiss and tell 😝

charles_leclerc Whatever that is it looks like a lot of sugar 😳 can i have some?

y/n l/n i'd get you some, but i don't need your trainer up in my dms threatening me 😔

charles_leclerc Andrea's an angel, I promise 🙏🏻 no threats

pierregasly Andrea, an angel? LMAO

charles_leclerc Pierre, fermez-la!

emmalechair yeah pierre let our boy shoot his shot!

carolinevilleneuve ...where did this picture come from? i don't remember going to a restaurant?

y/n l/n neither did i 😄 the man crush sent it to me

carolinevilleneuve @cassievilleneuve YOU WENT ON A DATE!?

cassievilleneuve IT WASN'T A DATE

y/n l/n liar 😆

mclaren

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, and 390,986 others

mclaren Live footage of @landonorris lying straight to our face after going on a date and consuming his weight in sugar.

view all 889 comments...

alllyyyssson ehem eXcUsE ME!? LANDO WENT ON A DATE!?

cecelewis ADMIN TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW

jazzyruiz admin rlly thought they could slip the "lando went on a date" at the beginning of the caption and we wouldn't notice 😭

landosleni my husband is cheating on me!?!?!

landonorris IT WASN'T A DATE

mclaren Sure it wasn't, buddy 😛

danielricciardo why you lying

neonorangepapaya LMAO dragggg him daniel!

y/n l/n ✓ 2m

Melbourne Grand Prix Circuit Melbourne, Australia

"Are you sure this is even a good idea?" Y/N bit her lip nervously, letting the hometown hero - Daniel Ricciardo - drag her down the paddock.

"Bit too late for second thoughts now, isn't it?" Daniel quipped, nodding his head at a passing mechanic.

"I'm not having second thoughts, I just... he didn't even invite me here."

"Which is the whole point of a surprise," Daniel pointed out. He turned back to look at her briefly, "By the way, where's your friend?"

At that, Y/N giggled, "With Lando. Those two have been joined at the hip ever since he picked us up from the airport."

"So it was a date!" Daniel crowed triumphantly.

"Obviously!" Y/N snickered. "What else could it have been?"

"He was telling everyone you were there too after the McLaren admin made that post."

Y/N scoffed, "Now, that's a lie! I was dead asleep in our hotel room. Cassie snuck out and I didn't find out until I woke up and saw that Lando sent me that picture, saying she was in good hands."

"I'm not surprised. I wouldn't want to be caught dead on a date with Lando either." Daniel nodded, mock thoughtfully.

Y/N giggled again, "I don't think that's why she didn't tell me."

He hummed, but refrained from saying anything else as they reached the Ferrari garage, bustling as it was with mechanics, engineers, and strategists.

Y/N came to a full stop as he called out, "Oi! Frenchman! Over here!"

An accented voice yelled back, "I'm Monegasque!", as Charles Leclerc emerged from the sea of red, clad in his own scarlet racing gear.

"Same thing," Daniel grinned, but Charles' attention was no longer on him.

"Y/N?" He blurted out in shock.

Y/N lifted a hand nervously and waved, "Hi?"

Charles stood there, staring at her like he'd seen a ghost, until someone behind him shoved him forward and he snapped out of his reverie.

"Uh, hi! Hi!" He laughed, hovering in front of her uncertainly. "What are you doing here?"

"Lando and Daniel invited me," Y/N bit her lip, cheeks reddening. "They, um- we thought it might be a nice surprise."

He didn't say anything for a moment, but just as she was getting ready to backtrack, his face broke out into a beaming smile and he pulled her into a half-hug - an uncertain one, the kind you give someone if you know them, but you don't know them enough to give them a full hug.

"Welcome to Ferrari," he stated loudly as camera flashes went off, pictures and videos recording the moment that would go viral on Twitter and Instagram for the entirety of that day. "The best team on the grid!"

tag list: @1655clean, @norwayxo, @thecubanator2, @theendofthematerialgworl, @c-losur3, @lightdragonrayne

#ferrari #charles leclerc #f1 #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #lando norris #mclaren #mclaren f1

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cupidhoons · 14 hours

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you are the only exception ⟡ ksn

syn you hate everyone — everyone except him

genre & warnings non idol! au, popular(ish)! sunoo, grumpy reader x sunshine sunoo, pure fluff, s2f2l, lmk if there's more back2navi

NOTE HURRAY A SUNOO FIC!! i love my baby TO DEATH kim sunoo ily i wish U were Real 🙁🙁 this is also for @ashtxrie my fav sunoo stan 😇 also happy 200 posts to me :)!! thank you all for the love 🫶

you hated school. you hated walking there every morning and you hated those teenage boys who are way too loud about their business. you hated the girls who would go up to you and tease you about how lonely you are. you hated every single aspect of your current life.

except for kim sunoo.

sunoo was the only person in your school to ever go up to you with clear intentions of being your friend. you remember him coming into the school and almost immediately became one of the popular kids. he was a ray of sunshine — your ray of sunshine.

he came up to you with the brightest smile anyone could ever have. you swore you fell in love right then and there — i mean, who wouldn't?

"hello! i'm sunoo, what's your name?!" he beams brightly. you were slightly taken aback by his actions, of course. no one ever came up to you unless they wanted to make a backhanded compliment towards you.

"um...hi?" you say hesitantly. it hasn't even been a full week since he's been here — did he already hear stuff about you?

he looks at you expectantly. with his bright eyes looking into yours, it was hard to focus on what he had just said to you. you hear him clear his throat and you snap back into reality.

"sorry...um...i'm y/n. it's nice to meet you, sunoo." you say in a monotoned voice. you expect him stop smiling and walk away — similar to how everyone else does — but to your surprise he doesn't.

from that day on he never left you alone. you didn't mind as it was nice to have someone around you. you eventually got closer and you slowly let your guard down. he was the first person to ever see you smile and laugh.

"oh my god! y/n, did you just laugh at my joke!?" he says in disbelief. you never usually laugh at his jokes — as they were incredibly corny — but today, you couldn't help it. not only was it actually funny, but it was also a sign that you were getting comfortable with him.

you giggle at his reaction as you nod. "i'm afraid i did. i didn't know you were capable of being funny!" he lets out a dramatic gasp which makes you smile even wider.

"and i didn't know you were capable of even smiling!"

"well, that makes the two of us."

since then your friendship has bloomed into more romantic terms. you realized that it was getting harder to focus on your schoolwork, which by the way, was unlike you. not only that, but you also had insane amount of butterflies whenever you talked to him.

so, one thing led to another. it got to a point where you couldn't keep in your feelings anymore and you ended up accidentally confessing. you worried that he was going to leave you — but he didn't.

"yah! why do you look like you're about to cry?! didn't you hear me?! i like you too, stupid!" he lightly pushes your shoulder in a teasing way then pouts. "you know i hate seeing you cry! and as your boyfriend, i can't let you cry!"

he pulls you closer to him and cups your face. you look at him surprised.

"i told you once that i'll never leave you. so don't worry, okay? i'm not going anywhere, nor do i plan to." and before you could say anything — he puts his soft lips on yours.

he stays true to his promise today. as you lay in bed with your now boyfriend, admiring his features as he sleeps. the sun seeping through the window as you snuggle closer to him — he was the only exception, and you didn't plan on changing that.

permanent taglist (open — send an ask to be added) ; @kyoaeri @copyhanni @flwrstqr @dioll @wonifullove

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thinkingaboutjaedyn · 12 hours

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my heart over yours; part three | j.fleming x reader

prompt: jessie is determined to keep you away from sasha, but you aren't as keen on that. sasha has her own thoughts about jessie and your friendship.

author notes: this is way more angsty than the previous parts but i swear it's worth it. thank you for all the love on part two 😝💗 tumblr is such a nice place to post. anyways enjoy. again, the fic reads better with the song playing..just saying..

contains: ucla!jessie x reader, childhood bestie!jessie, jealous!jessie, sasha do not like what jeff and you got going on, reader is sorta of a bad gf in this, arguing, slightly messy writing, this part is shorter than the others but technically has a lot, prob the worst chapter by far btw, slightly rushed cliffhanger but idk

playing is there someone else? by the weekend 🎵

no one speaks as jessie keeps her glance on you. there are a bunch of questions floating around in her eyes. anger and confusion lingering around as well. you look back at jessie, trying to gesture to her to chill out if only for a moment. unfortunately sasha didn't know jessie as well and couldn't tell how badly pissed off the soccer player was. the blonde tries to lighten up the mood, making a joke as she says, "you two couldn't even bring me a donut? wow double betrayal." the joke doesn't land as jessie gives her glare before looking back at you. it's obvious she's waiting for some type of explanation. one that you aren't willing to give in front of the tall blonde in the doorframe.

"c'mon, you still have to change," you say. avoiding the way jessie gives you a look of annoyance. you gesture for sasha to move which the blonde gets, moving to go sit on her bed. you pull jessie by the wrist inside after you. once inside the hotel room you let her go for a moment to put down your half eaten donut before going over to where your luggage is on the floor. the entire time jessie just stays silent, giving sasha a few irritated looks every time she tried to speak which shut the blonde right up, but still silent.

you pull out some simple sweatpants and a t-shirt of yours. turning around to look at jessie. the canadian already knows what you want her to do, putting down her donut before coming over to you to grab the clothes. she leans in, whispering against your ear, "we have to talk." leaning away afterwards to walk into the attached bathroom.

"give us a minute. we'll be out way before the shop closes, promise," you reassure sasha before walking into the bathroom as well. shutting the door behind you. sasha doesn't say a word but her mind is flooded with thoughts of why you're going into the bathroom with your "best friend" to change? it isn't her place to question the closeness between you two, but it's something she tells herself to keep in mind while trying to get you to be more than her project partner.

jessie's leaning against the counter in the bathroom when you come inside. the clothes are sitting on the top of the toilet seat, untouched. "you aren't going to change?" you joke, making jessie scoff. she loves how you always try to lighten the mood, but this isn't the time. she was feeling too frustrated to really think rationally. the canadian says, "don't worry about the clothes. why are you sharing a room with her?"

"because it's cheaper? because i.. can?" you say the last sentence like you are unsure if you really can; technically there's no problem with you sharing a room with sasha. it's just a simple arrangement, you didn't even think about it after booking the hotel. but with the way jessie's looking at you it feels like you just got caught doing something you shouldn't.

your last sentence makes jessie let out a sigh. she doesn't have a right to be feeling so frustrated, she tries to pull back her emotions but she just can't. not when it comes to you. on the pitch, she can keep it under control. when receiving criticism her emotions don't spiral. but when it comes to you, for some reason, her emotions just spill out. when she doesn't speak you move to pull her close. taking her hands into yours, interlocking them as you look at her. having your glance on hers makes jessie finally open her mouth, "it's just.. you hardly know her and you just share a room with her so easily? i could have helped pay for a single room.. you could have come and stayed in my hotel room.."

she trails off, looking away from you for a moment. you could see the conflicted emotions across her face easily. you give her hands a gentle squeeze, letting her know to just say what's on her mind.

"it feels like you're pushing me away. you didn't even tell me you were rooming with her."

"i didn't think it was something to tell you. it's literally nothing, jess."

"but you used to tell me even the small things. the things you thought of as nothing. everything." jessie's voice breaks up a bit while saying that. you rush to pull her into a hug, the freckled woman nuzzles her face into your neck. she tries to push away the tears threatening to spill. your hands naturally rub at her back, comforting her.

"i just want you to treat me like your bestfriend again," she whispers into your skin. hearing her sound so heartbroken makes your heart break. you were meant to be her source of comfort, not the source of her crying. you try to pull away to look at her, but jessie pulls you back into the hug. refusing to let you go.

"i just want to look at you, jess. let me see your face," you say softly. again you try to pull away and you succeed this time. with jessie's hands still on your waist as she looks at you.

you move your hand to wipe away at the tears in her eyes. seeing jessie cry always makes you want to cry; you two's emotions are just too in tune, too connected. jessie leans into your touch. one of her hands letting go of your waist to grab onto your wrist. "don't let go.. don't let me go," she mumbles.

"i'm not letting you go. you're still my bestfriend, i would never push you away," you say softly. in the back of your mind is the thought that jessie and you have been in the bathroom for longer than it would take to change, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. sasha can wait, the pizza can wait. jessie can't. "you promise?" she asks. you nod before saying, "promise."

it's thirty minutes later when jessie and you come out of the bathroom. after she had calmed down enough to change into your clothes, you held her for several more minutes before helping the soccer player wipe away the tear strains on her face. jessie may have been open with her emotions around you, but you knew that she would feel embarrassed if sasha knew she cried. you didn't mention how sasha probably already knew with how thin the walls are between the bathroom and the actual hotel room, but jessie's mood was getting better so you weren't going ruin it.

when you two come out, sasha is still sitting on her bed. just scrolling through her phone until she hears the bathroom door opening. she looks up to look at you both. there questions in her eyes, but sasha doesn't say them. instead she says, "are you guys ready to go? i'm pretty sure the pizza shop is open until one am, but i don't feel the safest walking through the streets of san diego anywhere near one."

you let out a soft laugh. shaking your head to agree with her. jessie lets out a small chuckle, nothing noteworthy. you two spoke in the bathroom about how she should be nicer to sasha. she doesn't have to be friends with the woman, just nicer. jessie only agreed for your sake; that doesn't mean she was going to overly enthusiastic when it came to the blonde.

"yeah. we should probably go. i'll get the uber," you say. sasha nods before standing up, grabbing her purse that was beside her. the three of you leave out of the hotel room. while sasha is walking ahead, jessie and you are trailing closely behind. hands interlocked as you two talk quietly. it was a subtle way of isolating sasha that jessie wasn't going to correct. she was nice to sasha, so now she deserves your attention; all of it.

getting from the hotel to the pizza shop didn't take long. the ride there was mostly silent with sasha trying to make some type of conversation, but jessie wasn't having it. giving her short questions until the blonde just stopped trying. you would try to indulge her, but could feel the eyes of jessie burning into the side of your head everytime you turned to talk to sasha, so you just stopped. when the car stopped, jessie got out first then you and finally sasha. the canadian was already pulling you towards the door of the shop, not caring if sasha was right behind you two or not.

"slow down, freckles. the pizza isn't going anywhere," you tease making jessie chuckle and roll her eyes. that joke was enough to make her slow down her pace. allowing sasha to catch up to you two.

"i have been seeing people go to this place all over social media, so hopefully it reaches the standards i set in my mind," sasha says. moving so she could go around jessie and you, grabbing onto the shop door.

"if we're going off smell alone.. this place already checks off some boxes," you pull jessie inside once sasha opens the door. it feels weird that sasha walks in alone after you two while jessie and you walk in together. another subtle way of isolating her that you didn't even realize you were taking part in.

the shop isn't anything fancy. a very simple design with white tile walls, a table or two in the room, a few framed awards about how the shop was one of the best in san diego, and a funny looking mascot that was painted one of the walls. it's cute and inviting. definitely felt like you were stepping right into the 2000's though.

the pizza is amazing. you end up ordering a simple pepperoni pizza and jessie followed suit while sasha orders hawaiian. "that's disgusting," you cringe as the three of you sit in front of the shop. your backs against the building as you sit on crates the shop gave you. jessie lets out a hum of agreement with your statement, with her mouth full of pizza she couldn't really talk. sasha rolls her eyes, nodding in disagree as she takes a bite of her pizza. she lets out a content hum afterwards; over exaggerating it to prove you wrong.

"it's actually amazing. you two just lack taste," sasha says. you roll your eyes before biting into your own pizza. after swallowing you say, "no. i think you're the one lacking tastebuds but continue to lie to yourself."

while sasha and you are bickering, jessie just looks at you two. finishing up her pizza faster than you both. seeing you be so comfortable with sasha puts a pit in jessie's stomach that's definitely not from the pizza. she refrains from butting in, knowing she would just make the conversation way colder than it should be. jessie will stay silent; for your sake.

the chilly air of the san diego night reminds you three that it's actually quite late. your pizza is already cold by the time you pay attention to it again, too focused on debating with sasha. the blonde woman's pizza wasn't doing any better than yours. now cold as well.

jessie checks the time on her phone, seeing 11:30 makes her stand up. she giggles seeing the defeated look on your face at how your pizza turned out. "c'mon. it's late, let's go back to the hotel. i can buy you a new pizza or you can just.. heat that one up again? i don't think hotels have microwaves in rooms but," jessie shrugs, "i could be wrong." you perk up hearing jessie say she would buy you another pizza. you weren't about to eat a half eaten cold slice of pizza, so you nod, accepting her offer.

the canadian doesn't spare sasha a silver of attention. focusing all on you. if sasha is bothered by being ignored, she doesn't say anything. being the second one to stand up, she agrees with jessie, saying, "yeah. let's go before it gets way too late."

you're the last one to stand up. pulling out your own phone to check the time; you didn't realize how late it actually was even with the moon being out. time flies when in good company. "okay, let's go. i'm tired anyways," you support your point with a yawn afterwards. jessie playfully shoving you at the irony of the action. you giggle and slap her arm in response making her let out a soft ow. sasha just stands there, unsure if she could even jump into the playful banter. in the back of her mind she says to herself that it isn't her place, she has no right to be apart of what you and jessie have, but still. it's awkward to just stand here, not joining in.

once you and jessie stop playing around, you two go inside to get you another pizza while sasha stands outside to look out for the uber. you two come out right when the uber pulls up. sasha gets into the car first then you follow and finally jessie. just like on the ride there, it was pretty silent. expect this time around sasha doesn't try to make conversation. too tired to even try. the three of you sit in comfortable silence, too tired from the day and the making the trip from the hotel to here.

the moment you all reach the hotel, jessie pulls you with her towards her hotel room. leaving sasha in the hall as you two walk away. "goodnight," you say loudly enough for the blonde to hear, looking over your shoulder at her for a second before following along with jessie.

again sasha is left alone, left out of the quotation. a way of isolating her away from you both. it's at that moment that she truly realizes how big an issue jessie is going to be when it comes to trying to become your girlfriend.

sasha and you fly back to la that tuesday. jessie and the national team have left the day before, on monday, to make it to the next friendly that was taking place in texas. you wished you could have traveled with jessie to texas, but unfortunately college gets in the way once again. with you having important classes that you had to attend and also having that big project to turn in with sasha, you just couldn't spend another day away from the confinements of your studies.

after turning in sasha and yours huge project, you two decided to go out for ice cream. with jessie away and busy with training, you had the time to spend with sasha.

you lean back against the bench as the sun beams down on the two of you. sasha convinced you to try rocky road and you're slowly regretting letting the woman sway you earlier.

"this is absolutely disgusting," you groan after taking another lick of the ice cream. sasha laughs loudly before taking a lick of her own ice cream. "tastes perfectly fine to me," she shrugs before enjoying her ice cream some more. you cringe seeing how much she likes it since you hate it; you two's tastes are the complete opposite.

you try to enjoy it, but you just can't. standing up to throw the ice cream away in the trash can near by before coming to sit back down next to sasha. again you cringe seeing how half of her ice cream is gone already.

"is it the nuts you dislike?" sasha says, raising her eyebrows at you.

"definitely the nuts."

"maybe it's because you're a lesbian..?"

you let out a gasp of mock disbelief before pushing sasha's shoulder, making her giggle. "god, just be quiet. i didn't like the marshmallows either.." you try to defend playfully. sasha just gives you a look that makes you push her again.

"c'mon, stop! my ice cream is going to fall," sasha whines. you let out a sound of playful annoyance, but you do stop. letting sasha finish up enjoying her ice cream. once done, she looks at you and smiles. "we should go get some food. i'm still hungry.." she pouts at you, it's a cute sight you won't lie but subconsciously you compare it to how jessie pouts at you whenever you tease her too much. why were you thinking about jessie when sasha is right in front of you? maybe because you miss the freckled woman, maybe because jessie and you went out to get ice cream all the time before sasha came into the picture, you don't know.

"okay, let's go," you stand up, "where should we go? pizza?" sasha shakes her head at your suggestion. pizza reminds her of how during the weekend she was basically a ghost while you and jessie did y'all's thing. instead she suggests getting chick fil a. you almost reject the idea, wanting something different but decide against it. letting sasha have this one thing.

"okay. since you paid for the ice cream, i'll pay-" your talking gets cut off by the ringing of your phone. you take the device of your pocket, already knowing who it is since you turned off do not disturb for only person, jessie. "hi freckles."

"hey idiot. i just finished.. wait.." silence follows after her words then shuffling as jessie moves around on the other line. you hear some other voices in the background as well. voices that are quite familiar. jessie speaks again, "are you outside? i swear i just heard a bird."

you chuckle, "yeah. i'm out getting ice cream."

"without me? why are you betraying me?" jessie says playfully. the words hit a bit deeper than they should have; what are you doing out here with sasha? that's the question that hits your mind but you ignore it. you aren't doing anything wrong, are you?

"shut up. are you with the team? put me on speaker, i miss them!" you smile once jessie complies with your request. you almost forget about the fact you're outside with sasha, but the blonde reminds you when she taps your shoulder. she makes a come on gesture and you mouth wait a minute before going back to talking to jessie and the team.

sasha lets out a dramatic sigh that's loud enough that jessie hears.

"are you with someone..?" she asks. stopping herself from asking if it's sasha since others are around her, but still she's curious.

"yeah. sasha wanted to go out for ice cream after class so here we are," you shrug despite knowing jessie couldn't see it. there is slight unease in your voice that nobody but jessie detects. she mentally reminds herself to ask you about it later, thinking it may have something to do with her.

you hear the voices of the other canadian players. eventually the loudest one is adriana who says, "sasha? that tall blonde you brought to the game in san diego? you two seem close!"

you're unsure of what to reply, knowing that jessie is right there next to the phone but you don't want to make anything awkward so you just laugh, "yeah. i guess you could say that."

"okay, guys stop. let me get my bestfriend back," jessie says. you are able to catch a few groans from the other players but that's it before jessie takes the phone off speaker before pressing it up against her ear. jessie had to stop that the moment it started. sasha and you? not as close as you are to jessie. the thought of sasha and you being any type of friendly makes her want to laugh. just because she knows it will never be comparable to the bond you two have. on the other hand it makes her want to argue, argue with you for even letting other people think that you were close to blondie. it wasn't your fault, but jessie can't exactly be rational when she's miles away from you and sasha is right there with you.

"we are about to get off the bus and get some dinner, so i'll call you later, okay? be ready for my call." you giggle hearing the serious tone that jessie tries to put on. "ten pm sharp. i'll be waiting for your call," you say.

"better be."

"shut up freckles."

after ending the call, you turn to look at sasha who stands there awkwardly. obviously feeling sorta out of the loop since she wasn't even included in the call. instead of having a conversation about how she still feels isolated compared to how jessie and you act instead sasha just says, "chick fil a?"

"yeah. let's get some chick-fil-a."

jessie is only gone for two more days. you greet her at the airport and you two went out for dinner the night she flew back to la. during that time you weren't thinking of sasha at all. even when she texted you, it wasn't noticeable since you had your phone on do not disturb expect for jessie and your parents. it's not your fault really. sasha and you usually only click in person, being way dryer over text, and you haven't seen the blonde ever since jessie came back. your schedule clears up enough that you only had one class for the entire week and that class was not the one with sasha. you really weren't trying to ignore her, the circumstances just allowed you to forget.

you were fine with not seeing her though. spending most of the week hanging out with jessie; with most of the hanging out being just cuddling in bed while watching dumb rom coms or animal documentaries that always send you sleep. it was just like old times when jessie was your main friend. she's still your main friend, but sasha is in the picture now. sorta. while you're doing perfectly fine with not seeing the blonde, she wasn't the opposite.

it wasn't like sasha was desperate to see you, but her crush on you was growing and she's been wanting to go on a second date. counting that day you two went for ice cream then lunch as the first. everything is moving a little too slow for her and sasha is sure she knows the reason: a certain brunette soccer player. one who obviously doesn't like her and who is obviously a priority in your life. these two facts don't stop sasha from reaching out to you though. it's on saturday when you get a text.

you're laying in jessie's bed as she sleeps away the evening. her face is pressed against the top of her head while her arm is laying over your neck. you feel the text before you see it, with your phone vibrating somewhere on the bed. you aren't even sure where it is so you slowly try to move jessie off of you, so you can find it but the canadian is stubborn. even in her sleep as she pulls you closer. thankfully you find your phone right under jessie's hip after it vibrates again. struggling to pull it from up under her, but eventually you do. you blink at the brightness of your screen before reading the notification.

sasha ☀️

can we call?

i want to ask you something

you

can't call

just text me 🤍

sasha lets out a sigh seeing your response. she wanted to hear your voice. before she can stop herself, sasha types out and sends,

sasha ☀️

why?

she knows it's not her place to ask, but still. also it's this thought in the back of her mind that there isn't just a reason behind your text, but a person.

you

jess is sleep 💤

don't want to disturb her :(

and sasha's right. jessie is in the way once again. every time she tries to do anything with you, that freckled soccer player is right there to stop everything. even when she's sleeping she stops you two from doing anything more than the bare minimum.

sasha ☀️

okay

want to go out for karaoke? tomorrow night?

you

omg yeah

you swear you won't make fun of my vocals?

sasha ☀️

promise

alright it's a date

you two text back and forth for a few more minutes before you text that you're tired and that you're going off to bed. after that you move slightly so you can put your phone on the nightstand beside the bed. jessie groans out softly at the temporary loss of heat. pulling you closer then moving so that she's half on you half off. "where you going?" she mumbles softly into your skin. you can hear the sleepiness in her voice.

"nowhere. right here," you mumble back. your own sleepiness catching up to you. all that you done all day was be in your dorm and do things with jessie, but still you feel so sleepy.

"okay.. sleep. please?" jessie nearly whines but instead a muffled groan comes out instead. you wordlessly give her a yes, letting your hands rub on her back before drifting off to sleep yourself.

the next night, you're getting ready for your date with sasha. you haven't even told jessie about it but you can tell she already knows by the way a permanent pout seems to be stuck on her lips. she's leaning against the bathroom doorframe while you do the finishing touches on your hair.

"do you really have to go? we can do karaoke here," jessie says. the problem wasn't even the karaoke, it was sasha. jessie didn't want you to be going out on dates, but it's not like she could just say that.

"and risk getting noise complaints? no thanks," you laugh softly. jessie laughs after you, moving to come close. she wraps her arms around your waist like she always does. "we won't. just be quiet. i'm good at that, you're not."

"i'm not? you're louder than me when you get excited," you give her a look. moving away when she tries to pinch you. jessie chuckles before pulling you back close again. "freckles, watch the clothes"

"just change," jessie shrugs, pulling you right against her so that your face is pressed against her shoulder. you whine and playfully slap her back.

"you're the most annoying person ever. now i have to redo my makeup and change my clothes," you finally are able to pull away. your shirt is wrinkled and your skirt isn't any better. while your makeup is now smudged since you didn't even get to put on the setting spray before your bestfriend started to annoy you. jessie doesn't show a drop of remorse as she walks away from you. giving you a light slap on the shoulder before leaving out of the bathroom.

it takes you ten minutes to change your clothes and to redo your makeup. you rush out of the door, giving jessie the middle finger when she almost made you trip on the way out of the door. thankfully you aren't too late. sasha is understanding when you arrive at the karaoke place.

"jess messed up my whole look. i had to change and everything," you pout as you sit down on the cushioned bench in the small room. sasha have rented out one of the rooms in the karaoke place near ucla. the blond doesn't seem too fazed by your lateness, just happy you made it.

she smiles, "it's cool." she moves away from where she's leaning against the door before sitting down next to you. grabbing the mics that are on the table in front of you two. "ever done karaoke before?" sasha says.

you look at her with disbelief, "do you think i live under a rock? duh, all the time in highschool. jessie and i would go every friday as a little celebration that classes were done for the week." thinking back on those memories makes you smile. jessie can't seem to escape your thoughts. you don't notice how sasha frowns before she changes the subject, "challenge me then?" sasha looks at you as she holds out one of the mics towards you.

and who are you to reject a challenge? you take the mic out of her hand. standing up to the karaoke machine. "beyonce?" you ask, looking back to see sasha standing up as well. "duh," she laughs, coming closer to the machine.

"whoever loses has to get the winner whatever they want." you say, looking at which song to pick.

"bet, get ready to be at my mercy." you roll your eyes at her words. just giving her a small shove before starting the song. "that's cheating!" sasha giggles; then the battle was on.

sasha and you sang various beyonce songs with not the best vocals but still you two sang your hearts out. debating who won after each song ended. eventually around three hours have passed and it was coming close to the time of the karaoke place closing time.

"i totally won that. i practically sounded like beyonce," you say after setting the mic down. sasha and you have just finished singing single ladies which you are sure was definitely a win for you.

"get out of dreamland," sasha rolls her eyes. setting her mic down as well. she moves to grab her purse and jacket, glancing at the time on her phone. "okay, let's do rock paper scissors to see who won."

you cringe at her suggestion, but go along with after checking the time too. you two do three rounds of the kid game with sasha winning at the end. she smiles as she says, "told you that you would be at my mercy. now what could i possibly want..?"

sasha drags out her thinking, poking her cheek with her finger. she stays like that for a moment before saying, "go on another date with me?"

you smile at her question. you should have known that was going to be her choice.

"of course. i have to redeem myself next time." sasha laughs, about to say something else when your phone rings. you grab it quickly, already knowing who it is since your ringer is only on for jessie and a few others. you hold up a finger at sasha to basically say wait a moment. once she nods in understanding, you answer the call.

it wasn't too long and it wasn't really that important; well to others may not seem important but to you it was important because it was jessie on the other line. the soccer player asked if you were coming back to the dorm soon since she went out and bought strawberry ice cream, your favorite.

while you're busy on the phone, sasha is fighting away the frustration in her bones. again, you were paying attention to jessie again when your attention should be on her at the moment. she wouldn't care it jealousy. everytime you choose jessie over her just feels.. rude. when that soccer player comes around, you drop everything and run to her on her beck and call. it's annoying to see. it's even more annoying to experience. why can't you look at her?

she's snapped out of her thoughts when you end the call. looking at her before smiling, "sorry, gotta go. jessie bought this ice cream that i absolutely love and she threatened to put it under hot water if i don't run to my dorm in five minutes and.." sasha doesn't let you finish your rambling as she says, "it's fine. go ahead."

you smile and say a quick good night before leaving out of the room. leaving sasha to go back to jessie's arms once again.

this same situation seems to happen every single time sasha tries to spend time with you. all the weeks past, you and sasha do hangout. going out on a few dates when you two aren't swamped with classes or when you weren't with jessie which was rarely. only when jessie was off on international duty is when you weren't with her and even then you were on the phone with the woman all the time.

the frustration that's been building up in sasha since she started to pursue you was going to show itself soon. jessie was always in the way.

you could never stay overnight at sasha's dorm because "jess would be missing me."

you couldn't take too long walking back to your dorm from class because "oh freckles likes to always watch this tv show after classes end and it comes on around now so i really can't miss it."

oh no, you can't go out that day? why? because "i have to go see jessie play. you know ucla has a home game today right?"

it's always about jessie, jessie, jessie. hearing her name was becoming suffocating for sasha. she couldn't stand to hear you talk about memories that you have jessie and how you two are so close. everything about you seems to be intertwined with that damned canadian. sasha swears if she hears jessie's name come out of your mouth one more time she will lose it and that time actually comes.

you have just come over to sasha's dorm to "study." in reality you two were going to eat snacks before playing a few games. a simple, but cute home date that sasha appreciates more than the ones where you two go out. when you arrived, you have dropped your backbag against her bed before going into the mini fridge next to her bed.

"you only have cherry freezepops? jessie and i love those," you say, standing up with one of the freezepops in her hand. okay the first time she heard jessie name that day doesn't annoy her enough to do anything about it. she just hopes you don't talk about jessie anymore today while you two hang out.

that hope doesn't last long. sasha decides that you two should watch this whale documentary that uses comedy to explain how whales social circles work and that's when sasha blows up on you.

"this sounds so cool. jessie always wants me to watch documentaries and she always convinces me so it's like.." you don't get to finish your sentence. sasha rolls her eyes before saying, "oh my god, y/n. can i hear something about you instead of jessie for once?"

there's deep irritation in her tone. making you look at her in confusion. why was sasha acting like that?

"what are you talking about? i tell you about myself all the time," you reply. crossing your arms across your chest as some type of barrier against her words.

"not if it doesn't involve jessie. do you even exist without her? when she leaves, do you just cease to exist?" sasha snaps at you. she doesn't mean to, she really doesn't but these emotions have been building up for a while now. could she really be blamed when all she knows about you is from memories that involve someone else?

you don't take her words well at all. firstly, she basically insulting you and saying you have no personality. secondly, she's mentioning jessie like she's some type of pest. two things that went too far in your book.

"obviously i do! i'm right in front of you!" you stand up, moving to grab your bag. you weren't going to stay somewhere with someone who's insulting you. "and now you're going to leave? can you blame me for what i said? you always bring up jessie. knowing she doesn't even like me! how do you think that makes me feel?" sasha stands up too. grabbing onto your arm to stop you from moving any further.

you immediately pull her hand off of your arm, nearly slapping it. "jessie may not like you but that isn't a crime. she's at least being civil towards you. not insulting you behind your back!"

"really? when you two are in your dorm, cuddling away or whatever the fuck you two do in there, she doesn't say one bad word about me?"

"no she doesn't."

"you're fucking lying!" sasha lets all of her frustration out. it's all too much and now you're just lying to her face. "and i'm a fucking idiot because i'm chasing after some chick who's inlove with her best friend!" sasha's words created a pit in your stomach. it reminds you just of the words everyone else used to say when it came to jessie and you. that you two are too close, that she's in love with you and you're in love with her.

you are quick to defend yourself, not even thinking rationally, "i'm not in love with jessie! she's my bestfriend, so don't even try to apply that. if you're going to be so jealous over nothing then we can be done."

"jealous? i'm not being jealous, i'm being reasonable. you know why jessie hates me? because she wants you!" sasha shouts. she swears all the dorms in this hall can probably hear you two, but she really doesn't care. this was a conversation she's been meaning to have and unfortunately it came out so explosive.

you shout right back, "didn't i just say to not even apply something like that? you're crazy!"

sasha makes you fall silent when she says,"i'm crazy? no, let's see if you're crazy. answer me this, do you want to be my girlfriend or are you already taken by jessie?"

author notes: sorry this took like a thousand years, it was a struggle to figure out how to make this part fit into the story. the cliffhanger is a little messy sorry for that too and yeah, hope y'all liked it 🙏🏾 hopefully it was worth the wait. ignore any gramatical or spelling errors pleaseee

#jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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annwrites · 3 days

Text

exactly what he needs, pt. 2 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | pt 1 | pt3

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)

— summary: you & nate hang out in your room (after he snoops through it right in front of you), then ask each other questions, & he dresses & does your hair before you head out to spend the evening together.

— tags: conversing, getting to know one another

— tw: sexualization, lying (nate manipulating the truth), dollification

— word count: 6.2k

— a/n: I edited this numerous times, but fucked myself over by writing part 1 in present-tense to begin with, which I'm not always great at. So, if I messed up the tenses anywhere, please ignore it. Going forward, I'll probably be publishing further installments in past-tense.

Next post will be reader & Nate going shopping & having dinner!

The next morning when you wake, it only takes a few minutes for you to remember that Nate will be there in a little less than an hour, and the nerves immediately set in.

Surely people will see you getting out of his truck. What will they think?

You shake your head. It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway. You don't much care what any one person of the student population thinks of you.

You know high school is just a blip—a very brief moment in time, where it seems like every little thing you experience can be the end of the world, but it's really all just the beginning.

People will think whatever they like. It's not your job to try and change their minds. Not that trying to do as much would work anyway.

Once you've quickly showered, dressed, pulled your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your way, and eaten breakfast, you don't even have time to wait by the door as Nate's truck pulls up. You quickly pull on a pair of boots and step outside, locking the door behind you.

When you look up, your stomach does a flip when you see Nate holding the passenger-side door open for you.

You walk over to him. "You don't have to get my door for me, you know."

He shrugs, taking your backpack from you, setting it in the backseat with his. "I want to."

You tell him thank you as you climb inside and he shuts the door behind you.

Once you're on the road, he's the first to break the silence. "You can listen to whatever you want on the radio."

In truth, it's a bit too early for music for you. "I'm ok."

"Did you eat already?"

You nod. "I had a bowl of cereal."

He gives a slight frown. Not a very healthy start to your day. Something full of sugar.

"Do you want me to pick you up something on the way?"

Your eyes go wide. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though. It's nice of you to offer."

He decides tomorrow he's bringing you breakfast, and he won't be asking for permission beforehand.

You're both silent again for a moment and the truck slows as he pulls up to a red light. He briefly wonders if you know how to drive. If not, he'd be a more than willing teacher.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something personal. If you do, just tell me to fuck off and you don't have to answer."

You look at him. "Ok..."

The light turns green and the truck picks up speed again. "I noticed neither of your parents were home yesterday. Were they both at work?"

You grow quiet for a moment, a pregnant pause settling between the two of you as you look out the window at the passing houses.

"My dad was...is. He travels a lot for work, so he's not home much."

He nods, deeming it good news, at least for him. "And your mom?"

You're quiet for even longer this time. Then, "I've never met her."

Minus Lexi, you've already divulged more to him in that short sentence than you have to anyone else at East Highland.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He's not sure that he means it. He despises both of his parents and, if anything, in this moment, is envious of you, due to your lack of relationship with both of yours.

You shrug. "It's fine."

He wants more than just 'it's fine'. He wants to know more, as it's clear it's something which bothers you. He wants you to give him emotional vulnerability for just a moment. Something he can use in the future to work his way in closer to you.

"Do you know anything about her?"

You shake your head. "My dad refuses to talk about her. After a few fights when I was younger where I tried to get him to, I gave up. It's probably for the best. She made her choice, and I think me knowing anything about her would just make things...more difficult. My life, I mean."

Even if you still felt like you were chasing shadows sometimes.

He nods. If nothing else, it's one less person he'll have to go through to be with you. Two less, from the sound of things.

Finally, he turns into the school parking lot, taking his usual spot and he shuts the truck off.

"I'll get your door for you," he states before getting out.

You unbuckle yourself, not sure what to think of his insistence with the whole door thing. It just doesn't seem to be something men much concern themselves with anymore—getting a girl's door for her—at least not teenage boys, that is. But perhaps he's different. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.

Nate opens your door and grabs his backpack, sliding it over his shoulders, then grabbing yours as well.

You get out and go to take it from him, but he continues holding it.

"Turn around."

Your brows furrow for a moment, but do as he's asked. You quickly realize what he's doing and adjust your arms as he slides your bag onto your back. He's really going the extra mile to be a gentleman, you think.

Once the truck's doors are closed and he's locked the vehicle, he places his hand against the small of your back as you walk into school together.

You look perfectly calm on the outside, but on the inside, your anxiety levels are rising with each pair of eyes turning your and Nate's way.

When you spot Lexi, the look on her face is nothing short of bewildered. Next to her sits Cassie, who's fuming.

You're torn away from looking in their direction by Nate coming to stand in front of you. "See you in third period."

You nod and give him a small smile, going to sit with Lexi, despite Cassie giving you that same glare from yesterday. A worse one, really.

"What the hell was that?" Lexi asks, her tone full of concern as you sit down beside her, setting your bag on the table.

"Nothing. He just drove me to school, that's all."

"And home," Cassie says, voice full of malice.

Lexi looks from her sister, then back to you. "The two of you are not hooking up."

You flush. "No. He just gave me a ride, that's all."

"Ok, but why would he do that? The two of you never talk. You're not even friends."

You do your best to ignore Cassie's unsettling stare.

"I'm just—" You immediately shut your mouth. You should've thought further ahead, should've thought about what excuse you would give people when they inevitably ask why the two of you are hanging out all of a sudden.

Nate asked you to keep it a secret and you aren't about to betray his confidence. If you do, you're sure he'll fail and never bother asking for help again.

"Just what?" Lexi prods.

"We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal. I promise."

Suddenly, Cassie stands, angrily grabbing her bag, jerking it off the table and storming away.

Lexi rolls her eyes. "Just ignore her. I don't know why she's still hung up on him, anyway. He treated her like crap." She shifts in her seat, facing fully toward you now. "What I can believe even less, however, is the fact you're giving him the time of day. He's an asshole. He was abusive toward Maddy and wanted to keep screwing Cassie so long as she kept it a secret. He uses people, Y/N."

Abusive? You knew he and Maddy had argued quite a bit, but nothing that severe.

"What do you mean by abusive?"

She shrugs. "I don't know much, since she and Cassie obviously aren't friends anymore. But I know a good portion of it, at least, was emotional. Maybe verbal, too. Then again, I don't think she was any better." Lexi glances behind you, and you don't dare turn around, now worried the subject of your conversation is who she's looking at. "She gives as good as she gets."

Once the school day is over and you go to drop off your books at your locker, you find Nate leaning up against it.

He smiles when he sees you and you give him a shy smile in return.

You put your things away, then look to Nate.

In truth, what Lexi told you had gotten to you a bit. You try to tell yourself that it's all nothing more than hearsay, and you're only tutoring—not dating him—so whatever had occurred between he and Maddy and Cassie is none of your concern.

"You ready?"

You nod, and, just like this morning, he places his hand firmly against your back.

Once you're in his truck, you notice Maddy staring at you today, just a few cars away. She and Kat are both looking in your direction, Maddy clearly getting worked up and Kat obviously trying to calm her down, and your eyes widen when she begins heading in Nate's direction.

Before she can reach him, however, he gets in the truck and pulls out of the lot, leaving her standing there, staring after the two of you.

You're glad whatever was about to happen has just been avoided.

Over the next week, you and Nate go to your house every day after school to study. You gradually get to know more about one another, like you learning he has a brother—which you'd somehow managed to forget over the years—and he tells you how passionate he is about personal fitness, something to which you don't much relate.

It'd been abundantly clear since day one that he dislikes his father. But that dislike—even if he talks about him very little—clearly, somewhere along the way, became loathing. It's all in the tone he uses, the language he uses when he's brought up.

But the thing that always seems to calm him—make him happier—is talking about you.

He asks you every question in the book: favorite food, color, flower, song, type of music, art, what you want to be when you graduate, the kind of house you want to live in. The list is endless.

And then the day came when he asked to see your room, with you standing awkwardly in the doorway as he surveys every inch.

He starts with your bed, your fluffy white comforter with small pink flowers printed across it, and your plethora of pillows. And then he notices the small brown teddy bear leaned back against said pillows. He briefly picks it up, smirking to himself, then looking at you.

“Do you sleep with this?”

Your face goes blood-red. “Y-yes.”

He studies it for a moment longer, making a mental note to one day buy you one himself, wanting you to sleep with one that’s come from him instead.

In truth, while you think about you sleeping with a stuffed animal as embarrassing—at least for another person to now know about—it’s a major fucking turn-on for him. You’re that innocent that you still sleep with a teddy.

He sets it back down, throwing a “that’s very sweet” your way before moving on to your bookshelves.

Not that he’s read or heard of the grand majority of the novels you have, he can tell by the titles and covers alone that they’re all either romance or fantasy. He supposes he understands that: you trying to escape through stories. Stories where you can go somewhere else, be someone else. Have a new family, new friends.

And then he thinks it incredibly sad—just how lonely you are.

It’s not like he isn’t already aware of it, because he is—has became more and more so as the last week has gone on. Everyday he’s come to your house it’s been empty. But to see your shelves crammed full of books—your one attempt at escaping into a better life—he vows in that moment to start working faster at bringing the two of you together into a relationship.

You need him.

You like stories about princesses trapped in towers and white knights coming to save them? Then that’s exactly what he’ll be for you. He’ll rescue you from the lonely hell you’re living in and give himself to you fully. He’ll dedicate all of his time that he can to you. And he plans to spoil you fucking rotten.

He looks over the various trinkets you have set on—and on top of—those shame shelves. Porcelain figurines of unicorns and cats, a small jeweled crown, some candles and a few faux plants.

He turns back to you. “Which one is your favorite?”

You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “The Lord of the Rings, actually. I…I really like Éowyn and Faramir’s story.”

He nods.

He’s never watched the movies, and has obviously never read the book, so he makes a mental note to at least do some reading on the characters you’ve mentioned to understand you better.

He then looks over your entertainment center and the small collection of DVDs you have alphabetically organized in one of the cubbies. Beauty and the Beast, Ever After, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride, among a few others.

He then steps over to your closet and pulls the doors open without even asking your permission first.

You don’t much react to him doing so, supposing that everything in there you’ve worn to school at some point anyway.

He’s met with skirts and sweaters and dress blouses. Another thing he’s going to have to change—your wardrobe. It isn’t exactly “frumpy”, but it isn’t feminine enough for his taste, either. He wants your clothes to reflect who you truly are. Sun and baby doll dresses, and tennis skirts with the right pretty tops will suit you far better. Sandals and delicate flats. Your hair curled and actually down for once, perhaps with a bow in it. And he’ll buy you a few nice pieces of expensive jewelry as well. Maybe take you on a shopping trip to Tiffany one day.

He closes the doors in front of him.

What he really wants is to go through not just your bedside table, but also the top drawers of your dresser. He's curious if you've ventured into the territory of lingerie and sex-toys yet. And if so, what your preferences are.

He doesn't like to imagine you using more than a vibrator on your clit to get yourself to orgasm. As for lingerie, he doubts that you own any, but he often pictures you in lacy panties and pastel teddy nightgowns.

He adds such things to his mental shopping list of things to one day buy you.

Speaking of orgasms, however, he'd come thinking of you nearly every night for the past week.

He imagined you on his bed, naked, your pussy soaked for him, your legs spread wide as he teased you until you were begging for him to put himself inside of you.

He imagined all the things he'd teach you in bed, sure that you're inexperienced.

And only after you promised him that you're his—belonged to him and wanted no one and nothing else but him—did he finally join your two bodies together.

Finally, he sits on the edge of your bed. He then glances to the chair which hangs from the ceiling in the back left corner of your room, directly facing where he now sits.

You walk over, sitting in it.

He then lays back on your bed, feet still planted firmly on the floor, arms folded behind his head—God, he’s so tall.

“Do you not get lonely here?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.

You lift one of your socked-feet onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your bent knee. You shrug.

He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

Your brows furrow. “Do what?”

“Act like you being left alone all the time doesn’t matter. It matters; you matter.”

You remain quiet. Then, “I’m used to it. I like being alone.”

He refuses to believe that, knows it’s bullshit.

You’d only spent a week together, and only a little over an hour every day at that, but it’d not taken but a couple of days for you to—at times—talk his ear off. At one point, it’d nearly gotten on his last nerve, until his stomach dropped and heart broke when he realized why: how fucking long had it been since you’d had someone—anyone—to really talk to? Someone who bothered to truly listen? How long had you stayed silent, withdrawing further and further into yourself, until you’d built up an entire fantasy world within your mind and soul, which became your new reality?

And so he promised to himself—and mentally to you—that he’d never, even if it were true—tell you he doesn’t care what you have to say. He won’t be just one more person to hurt and let you down. Just like he knows you won’t be as much to him.

You’re good for him. He could tell as much from the first day he spoke to you.

He stares at you for a moment, making you squirm. “I don’t believe that.”

“Ok.” You don’t particularly feel like arguing. He can believe whatever he wishes.

He frowns. He dislikes that you don’t seem to much care what his opinion of you is. He supposes it’s a strange dichotomy. Going from Cassie who, it was all she cared about, to you, who clearly can’t care less.

“You’re really telling me that talking to barely anyone at school, except occasionally Lexi, and being alone in this house all the time doesn’t ever get to you?”

You shrug. “It’s just what I’m used to.”

In all the talking to him you’d done over the past week, all of it had been surface-level. About history or the new book you were reading, or something you’d read in a news article. None of it was actually truly about you.

If his plan to get in deeper with you—to know you like no other person on the planet does—is going to work, then you need to give him more.

“What if it wasn’t?”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “What if we started hanging out more often than just when we study after school? We could text or something, too.”

You appreciate his being concerned for you, you think it really kind of him. Even if makes you the least bit uncomfortable. You tell yourself it’s simply because it’s something you’re not used to: someone showing genuine concern for you.

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

He looks at you again. “You wouldn’t be. I like spending time with you.”

You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say thanks.

“I feel like for the last week I’ve done nothing but ask you questions about yourself. Is there anything you want to know about me?”

He’ll never admit it, but your lack of interest in him hurts his feelings. It makes him feel like you aren’t nearly as attracted to him as he is to you.

“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He smirks. So that’s why. Always so fucking considerate; his sweet girl.

“You won’t.”

You think for a moment. The things you really want to ask him about are too personal this early on (even if you’d told yourself such things were none of your business, you can’t help wanting answers). Like why he despises his dad so much, and what happened with him and Maddy and Cassie. And what happened at that New Year’s party which landed him in the hospital?

You start smaller. “What made you want to play football?”

He considers giving you some bullshit answer—which will seem a plausible enough explanation—and giving you the actual truth. Finally, he decides on both. “It gives me something to do, for one. A reason to push myself harder. It gives me something to focus on. And football is a contact sport. So when I’m pissed off, I finally have something to take it out on.”

“Like when you’re angry with your dad?”

He grows silent.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

He shakes his head. “It’s ok. It’s not like I’ve exactly been subtle about my dislike of him.”

He doesn’t elaborate further than that.

“So…what’s your favorite color?”

He laughs. “I don’t know. Black, I guess.”

Somehow it seems fitting for him.

He looks at you, able to read you. “But that’s not the kind of question you want to be asking, is it?”

“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.”

He leans up on one elbow. “Then how about we make it fair? You ask me one actually personal question, and then I ask you one. And we both have to answer. No matter what. As soon as one of us refuses to, I head home.”

You think about it for a moment, worried about the sorts of things he may ask, but you have an out. “Deal.”

He smiles. “Alright, ladies first.”

“Will you tell me what happened during New Year’s?”

He sits up fully then. “Fezco smashed a bottle over my head, then beat me within an inch of my life. He got the upper hand immediately by doing what he did with the liquor bottle. He almost fucking killed me, all for a worthless druggy.”

Your brows furrow. “Who?”

“Rue went to him with some made-up story about me harassing her and some friend of hers online. When in reality I want nothing to do with her. So then he threatened to kill me and finally fucking tried to.”

“Why would she do something like that?” It feels like he isn’t giving you the whole story. He’s laid out the edges of a puzzle, but is withholding the middle.

He shrugs. “She’s a drug addict, how should I know?”

Before you can reply, can think of a polite way to say: so what’s the real story here, he takes his turn.

“How come we were never friends?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five-years-old. We grew up together, have known each other for over a decade now. And only in the last week have we really finally talked, or spent any amount of time together.”

You lean back in your seat. “Well, just because you grow up with someone doesn’t mean that fact has to serve as some prerequisite to becoming best friends or something. Sometimes people, even from a young age, just don’t click. You were always running around on the playground, playing sports with others. I was always sitting off to the side and reading or coloring or playing with toys. I guess you were just more outgoing than me.”

“You know what they say: opposites attract.”

You tell yourself he’s just referring to friendship.

He lays back again. “Well, it may’ve only taken eleven years, but we’re friends now. I just… I just wonder what things might’ve been like had it happened sooner.” He sighs, then, “Your turn again.”

To an extent, you wonder that, too. Mostly just what it would’ve been like to have a best friend for that long.

“What happened between you, Maddy, and Cassie?”

“Not going to give me an easy one, huh?”

You let out a small laugh.

“Me and Maddy had been together since sophomore year. I guess we just grew comfortable with one another, even if we weren’t always happy. Even if it wasn’t always healthy. It didn’t start out toxic. We were happy at first. For awhile. A long while. But she just…it was like she wasn’t pleased unless we were fighting and then making up.

“It was just a constant cycle of her beating me down, then trying to build me back up again through sex. She just…she made me feel like shit about myself. As both her boyfriend and a man. It was like it wasn’t bad enough: the shit I dealt with at home with my dad. She just had to become one more problem in my life that I was forced to deal with.

“I’d hoped that if I loved her hard enough, if I gave her enough, she’d love me back the way I wanted to be loved. The way I loved her. Turns out I was just a fucking idiot.”

Tears sting your eyes. You feel so sorry for him. To be so young and to have already known an emotionally abusive relationship was heartbreaking. It was one reason why you refused to date at such a young age. You were all too young to understand yourselves, nevermind another person. Not in the context of loving and taking care of them, at least. You all were barely even fully-formed people yet.

So that was what Lexi had been referring to before. Just like everything, there were always two sides.

“And Cassie?” You ask, softly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Just a giant fucking mistake. We first hooked up a couple weeks after Maddy and I had broken up…again. It happened on New Year’s Eve. I just…maybe I was trying to get even for what Maddy had done to me at the beginning of the school year—fucking a guy in the pool at McKay’s house—right in front of everyone.

"And then we hung out more, and at first I thought she was different. Maybe better for me. Until she started blowing up my phone with hundreds of calls and texts, screaming one night in my room about how crazy she was, how she’d never let me be with anyone else. How she was better for me than all the rest.”

Your brows raise. That unhinged? Cassie had always seemed so sweet and demure to you. But you’d also hardly ever been around her outside of school.

And dating—being in relationships—seemed to sometimes bring out the worst in people. Facets they themselves didn’t even know they had.

“I’m sorry, Nate. I never knew Cassie was so…” You trail off, until he fills in the rest for you.

“Psychotic?”

You laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but…” You shift legs, wrapping your arms around your other one now. “Your turn.”

He remains lying back, wanting this question to come off as something he’s casually asking. Whereas, in reality, he’ll be holding onto every word of your answer.

“Have you ever dated before?”

You feel like you suddenly want to use your out, but refrain. It’s a simple enough question, with a simple answer. “No.”

He looks over at you. “Never?”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh.”

His brows raise. He’d never known you to have a boyfriend before, but until recently he’d not exactly kept tabs on you.

It surprises him.

“Have you never kissed anyone or had sex?” He prays the answer to both is no. Also hopes you don’t cut his questioning you short.

You’re quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring at one another. Until, finally, you decide to answer. “No. And I’m not ashamed to say it. Not having done either of those things is a choice, just like having done them is as well.”

He sits up, hunching over to try and hide the erection he can feel forming.

No one has ever been inside of you—not in your mouth, not in your pussy, and not in your ass. Another pair of lips have never even touched your own, another tongue has never tasted you. Another pair of eyes has never explored your lovely naked body.

He wants to know what you do, then, to satiate yourself when the mood strikes. Do you rub at your clit until you come? Do you finger yourself—he wonders if your hymen is still intact? Do you bunch a pillow up between your legs, humping it until you've finished and the case is soaked? Or do you take and rub your teddy against your wet, needy pussy until you’re sore and can’t take it anymore?

God he wants to know what you fucking taste like. Wants to feel your fingers in his hair as he goes down on you. Needs to know what your perfect pussy feels like around his cock.

But he knows it’s too soon for any of that. For you, at least.

“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Not nowadays. You should be proud of yourself for having held out this long. I admire it.”

You shrug. “It’s not that hard to do.”

He smirks. “That’s because you’ve never done it before. Once you’ve been with someone in that way…giving up that kind of intimacy is difficult.”

You think any kind of intimacy must be hard to let go of after having it. Whether it’s emotional, intellectual, physical…sexual. Maybe it’s one more reason you keep most people at arm’s-length. If you never let anyone in, then you’ll never have to worry about losing them.

You clear your throat. “My turn.”

He lays back again.

“Can I ask about your dad?”

He flexes his jaw. “What about him?”

“Why do you hate him so much?”

There’s a long pause and then he finally sits up. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”

You plant both of your feet on the floor, now sitting on the edge of your swing-chair. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I was just curious. Since he always seems so…perfect, you hating him, I guess, is just a source of confusion for me. Then again, maybe that perfection is the source of it: your hate. I don’t know.”

“That’s part of it. But not all.” And that’s all the answer he’s willing to give you.

Letting onto his hate for his father in the first place was a mistake. But that loathing sometimes seeped out. And he feels like he can be honest with you. He trusts you. So, sometimes he lets go a little. That lid he keeps so tightly screwed slips loose sometimes in your presence.

He stands and you fill with guilt.

You’d gone too far. You’d known better—that asking about his father would end up being a mistake—but you’d brought him up anyway. And now you’d ruined the day.

“You really don’t have to leave. We can talk about something else?”

He pretends to consider that for a moment. When in reality, he’s all too-pleased that you’re so eager for him to stay.

Then, he steps over to you, standing in front of your seat, towering over you as you look up at him. He briefly thinks that this would be a perfect position for the both of you to be in as you take him into your mouth.

Then, he kneels down. One week was all it had taken for you to bring him to his knees.

He reaches up, grabbing either of the ropes the chair hangs from from on either side of you. “It’s Friday.”

You smile nervously. “That’s very observant of you.”

He smiles, letting out a small chuckle. “I just mean that it’s only four o’ clock; still early. We could go do something together.”

He begins to lightly swing you, just barely.

“Like what?” You ask quietly.

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I could take you to dinner, take you shopping. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, even if you just want to drive around.”

You don’t know how to respond to his offer. “You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?”

“Not at all.” He wants so desperately to touch you, but he sees you like a newborn fawn, easily frightened; skittish. So he refrains. For now at least.

You glance to the set of glass doors beside the two of you which lead into your backyard. At the sun still high in the sky and tree branches blowing lightly in the wind. And then you look back to Nate, seeing no good reason to waste such a beautiful day cooped up inside.

“Okay.”

He smiles. “Good.” He stands, offering you his hand.

You take it, doing the same. “I’ll just be a minute, I need to change again. Don’t really want to go out in sweats.”

He nods, going to leave, then stops by your closet. He pulls the doors open and you watch as he pulls out a light-pink sundress, then turns back to you, holding it out in your direction.

“You don’t have to wear it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you at school before. Just thought it might look nice.”

You gently take the dress from him.

He speaks before you can tell him no. “I’ll be waiting in the living room. Take your time.”

Once the door has shut behind him, you look down at the dress in your hands, then at the things you usually wear—the clothes you feel most comfortable in—beckoning you from your closet.

While you dress, Nate leans back on the couch, hoping you wear what he’s picked out for you. In truth, he wants to dress every inch of you. He wants to do your hair, your makeup—even if you never wear any. He wants to pick out a cute matching pair of lingerie for you—so only he knows what’s under your clothes—your shoes, your jewelry, even your perfume.

He isn’t sure why it means so much to him—perhaps it’s just another thing he feels the need to have control over. He wants you to look nice. He knows you’re capable of matching his ideal picture of what he wants you to be in his head.

When you finally emerge from your bedroom fifteen minutes later—you’d spent half of that time sitting on your bed considering putting the dress away—he’s left speechless.

You’d put on the dress, along with a cute pair of sandals, your toes already painted a pleasant shade of pink, which just so happens to match the item you’re now wearing. And between your breasts hangs a necklace.

You stand in the entryway awkwardly, one of your hands clutching your other arm. “I feel ridiculous,” you whisper, your face red.

He stands, coming to position himself in front of you. “You look beautiful.”

You’re surprised by his response. Wearing something which shows off so much of your body makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

You’d considered putting on a cardigan to cover your arms, but it’s almost ninety-degrees outside. So you decided against it.

He reaches around to the base of your ponytail, his thumb, index and middle finger gripping your hairband. “May I?” He asks, looking down at you.

You feel dumbstruck by the sensation of the base of your hair in his grip, so you just nod.

He gently pulls the band free, your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, coming to rest just above your ass.

He’s never seen hair as long as yours before. Why the hell do you keep it up all the time?

He flexes his hand, the holder now firmly around his wrist and he reaches up with both of his hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, massaging your scalp as he styles it.

You just stare up at him, his face the picture of concentration as his fingers work against your head, through your long strands of hair. Your eyelids droop just a bit out of the feeling of relaxation that comes over you, goosebumps rising on your arms.

Nate takes note of that, as well as the quiet whimper in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against the base of your neck for just a moment. He likes that you like the way he’s touching you. He wants to know what other places his fingers and hands could explore that would get him similar results.

Finally, once he deems your hair presentable to his personal satisfaction, half of it falling down your back, the other half split evenly over both of your shoulders, he slips one hand into his pocket, the other coming to rest under your chin, making you look up at him again.

He feels blood rush to his cock at the flushed, lax look on your face as your hooded eyes stare up into his own.

“Why don’t you wear your hair down more often? It looks very pretty like this.”

“It gets in my way,” you state, your voice now having a dreamy quality to it.

He really likes you like this. All soft and submissive and dressed how he likes. He wants you wrapped around his finger sooner rather than later. Completely his in every single fucking way imaginable.

Today will be one step closer to getting that future.

He deems what you’ve said a good enough answer, but he knows you’ll have to get used to it. Your hair being down suits you far better than it being up.

He steps away, walking over to the door, holding it open for you.

Once you’ve locked it behind you, he holds open the passenger side door of his truck for you, same as always, shutting it firmly once you’re inside.

#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader)#nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs imagine #euphoria x reader

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havendance · 3 days

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Okay, I want to play too. Building off of @dustorange's post and @silverwhittlingknife's post

I think, how I would play this: the circus still happens obviously.

And then Dick dies when he's 16 in circumstances similar to Batman #408, where Dick is shot by the Joker and it causes him to fall to his death. (Dick has to die by falling. To me.) Bruce isn't able to catch him.

Bruce is obviously devastated. Going off of Silver, we'll say no Robin!Jason in this AU. Jason can get away with stealing the tires off of the Batmobile of an extremely grieving Batman. As a treat.

Tim is also devastated. I usually have Tim being 3 at the circus, so I guess he's 11-12 when this happens.

I think the fact that Dick was the only Robin in this scenario means that Tim is more reluctant to push himself as a replacement Robin. That and the fact that his HERO Dick Grayson died means I think that he's slower to act.

Eventually though, things get bad enough in Gotham that he does just because someone has to and he ends up as Robin. We'll handwave the details for now.

I think that Dick should get to come back to life during the Knightfall Saga. As a treat.

He comes back to Gotham just in time to see that there's a new Robin and watch Bruce get his back broken.

Tim's been Robin longer before Knightfall in this AU, so he's got a little more experience, but he's also 14, and while Bruce is lying in the Batcave and they don't know whether he's going to wake up or not, and he's fetching the medicine in that one comic, he runs into this unknown, edgy looking vigilante who blames him for Bruce getting his back broken and it's just everything he's been thinking to himself.

Dick sticks around in Gotham long enough to see that there's a new Batman and of course Bruce has someone else he can get to do that. Of course he doesn't need Dick. He runs off to go do like, black-ops vigilante work somewhere.

I think he and Tim do run into eachother once more before Dick leaves town though and Tim's like 'I know I'll never be as good as the first Robin, but that just means I need to learn everything I can' and tries to bother Dick into teaching him stuff because he can tell that this mysterious vigilante is way more skilled than him.

Dick mostly avoids Gotham, but I think they keep running into each other, coincidentally. Tim ends up teaming up with him during Contagion instead of Catwoman and they're both in Paris at the same time etc etc.

And eventually on one of these team-ups, Dick does a quadruple somersault and Tim sees it and everything clicks together and he imminently runs away because that's Dick Grayson and Tim has been talking up the first Robin all this time and it's a lot okay?

I think this is about when No Man's Land happens so Tim goes to go hide in Gotham and help out Batman and become a National News story and all that jazz instead of thinking about it.

But afterwards, Tim is ON THE CASE. I think he doesn't tell Bruce about this because if Dick hasn't told Bruce then he probably has his reasons? And what he was actually wrong? (Even though he knows he isn't)

And then, um, let's put the Dick and Bruce finally confronting each other during Bruce Wayne: Murderer/Fugitive because Dick comes back to Gotham when he hears that Bruce murdered someone because he doesn't want to believe it, but I think he also can't have that same bone deep belief in his innocence that he does in canon because of all the estrangement.

So he attacks Batman and demands to know the truth (without revealing who he is) and Bruce won't answer. Bruce also doesn't know how this mysterious vigilante knows he's Bruce Wayne/got accused of murder, so he low key suspects DICK of framing him, which normally he'd be too busy being Batman full time to care, but here he also recognizes some of Dick's fighting style so he starts investigating him to uncover the mystery.

Meanwhile, Tim noticed that Dick is back in town, so he's trying to recruit Dick to help him get to the bottom of this. He knows Dick's identity now, but he doesn't tell Dick that, he just drops various hints that he knows and hooks Dick up with a line to Oracle (who he has also not shared his conclusions with other than a vague 'there's something about him')

And hmm somehow this all resolves with like, Dick's identity getting out and him and Bruce talking face to face. Bruce is just so desperately amazed that Dick is there, meanwhile Dick still has various issues that are not resolved and it probably ends with Dick running away again and Bruce holding himself back from chasing after him like he desperately wants to. Because if Dick doesn't want anything to do with him then that's just his right because Bruce WAS the one who got him killed.

He does stalk Dick from afar though. Just without initiating contact. Tim and Barbara are more pushy about trying to hang out/talk with Dick in the aftermath.

To skip ahead, I think Bruce leaves Dick the Batmantle after he 'dies' as this last ditch attempt to share how much he loves and respects Dick.

And this getting long so I think I'll call it here.

#batman #dc #bats + birds + affiliated #my au ideas #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #last of the flying graysons #tim tag #utrh dick au #havendance writes #carthago delenda est

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nana-b0b · 22 hours

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》🔞 These panels are censored, you can go to the last of the post to find out where to see them!

A little historical info to better understand:

♡♡♡♡♡!!! I really feel happy and overcome with these panels, I was thinking a lot about how to make them since there were several obstacles: I had never drawn something NSFW before as it should be 😅 I never got that far so to speak, there was always a line that prevented me from taking that step, since it is not the same to draw some small scene where you only see something specific to a whole pose as such and all that implies. But after many ideas and turns I managed to take that step (maybe small for some but for me it was like reaching the moon 😂) and the most important and most feared was that the essence of the drawings and the style would be lost but I could keep it well and make it coexist ♡.

Note: as for the text accompanying the panels I want to say that it's not my best work as a narrator hahaha I don't write anything since I was about fifteen and it was my era of fanfics and stuff, so I feel its very basic and empty! 😅 ♥!

Now, let's talk a bit about the panels! Well, as we all knew this moment was coming, it was no surprise -3- Ryomen really had to be patient to get what he had been thinking for a while, but he didn't want it to be something random as it could be with any woman he wanted, he was really curious to see how Aurora could look like with the full appearance of a lady of the Heian era and when he saw her, he just couldn't resist. One thing will be clear: Aurora won't wear black teeth again, there will be no way to paint her teeth again without someone losing a limb. As for her eyebrows: she's really mad about that, but I'll let it go.

And to close this post I come with a novelty (I've been thinking about this for days) now we are going to be able to have these drawings completely uncensored on patreon.

I'm not going to lie, using more than two social networks for me is already a lot 😥 if it were up to me I would only post everything in one place but we know how the rules are and we have to respect them, if just by showing a nipple (which is a pixel 😂 ) they almost censored me on Instagram I knew this would be difficult and Tumblr is not lagging behind, while there are things that it lets pass there are others that it doesn't and it's not nice to have to make such complex drawings so that the AI doesn't detect them as 🔞 since there comes a certain point that you get tired too and it loses the grace.

My patreon will be the place for all my works 🔞 without any censorship already, you are going to be able to enjoy both public and private content depending on the type of work ♡. I think also for me it's an incentive to be able to start letting go more of my ideas and continue with everything I want to do :)

To say goodbye first I want to always thank you for all the support you give me and all your messages 🖤 and second to warn you that this CAP of Ren will be in patreon already published privately but all the other censored drawings are public for you to see and enjoy them as they should ⭐

Here are the publications that I censored and that you can now see, there are not many at the moment x'D

#sketch #jjk #jujutsu fanart #sukuna ryomen #jjk oc #ransketch #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen

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ihavethedreamies · 2 days

Text

Happy Birthday | Seonghwa

Park Seonghwa - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.6k

Pairing: Seonghwa x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Super Cute, Super Sweet

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected Sex (Don't!)

Author's Note: This a story requested by/written for my friend @sadfragilegirl! I don't normally write this level of fluffy romance, but I tried really hard! It’s a little early for her actual birthday, but she didn't mind~

I have the setting as Switzerland as if the reader and Seonghwa live in Korea, so sorry if you already live in Switzerland or something…

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"What's this?" You looked from the envelope to him skeptically. He said it was a surprise, but you were expecting him to place a box or even a bag in your hands when you closed your eyes. When the paper hit your palms instead, your eyes flew open, looking at him with question.

"Just open it, love." Seonghwa huffed with amusement, adjusting his position on the couch so he was facing you more. It wasn't like a card, it was a normal white envelope, like from when you would get a bill in the mail. It was only stuck at the middle of the flap, so you easily tore it open. Staring at him to gage his reaction, you reached in, your fingers feeling two slips of paper inside. Pulling them out, you flipped them over, still watching him. Your eyes left his to read the words on the slips and your mouth fell open.

"Your passport is still valid, right?" He smiled wide at your reaction.

"Switzerland?!" You looked rapidly between his gift and his face.

"That's where you talk about all the time…" Seonghwa leaned forward a bit to get a better view of your face. He wanted you to be excited, but was worried you would start crying, but you seemed okay.

"But…why?"

"Your birthday?" He said it like it was obvious. You looked back to the tickets, checking over the date, noticing it would be the day before your birthday, in about two weeks.

"Is this early enough notice for you to get off work?" He was a little worried he should have done it sooner, but he needed to make sure all his paperwork was in order as well. Luckily since it was only going to be about four or so days, you both didn't need a visa.

"Yes, its early enough- Park Seonghwa!" Your demeanor had shifted drastically, and he recoiled a bit.

"Why would you do something so elaborate for my birthday?" Your brow furrowed and he calmed, exhaling in slight exasperation.

"Why wouldn't I? You're going to be a quarter of a century." Your boyfriend smiled playfully, and you sneered back just as playfully. Clicking your tongue, you looked back at the tickets.

"I was able to rent a town house unit instead of a hotel room, it thought it would make it homier…" He pulled out his phone so he could show you the booking. It was more of a bed and breakfast type deal, but it would be just the two of you. You had to rip your gaze away from the plane tickets to look at the listing he showed you. It was perfect, warm, and cozy. There was a small living room and a small kitchen and dining area, with the bedroom and a bathroom upstairs. Small, but still bigger than a hotel room.

"Seonghwa…" You drifted off, and he looked over your face again, and he noticed your eyes had gotten glossy, and you swallowed hard.

"Please don’t cry, love." He huffed, hand going to your cheek so he could brush the stray tear off your cheek with his thumb.

"But it's so freaking sweet." You sniffed and he chuckled, resting his cheek on the crown of your head when you slumped into him, head on his shoulder.

The next two weeks were a blur, your job was willing to let you get off for that short time, you hardly ever took time off, let alone for yourself. Your coworkers were a bit disappointed that you wouldn’t be there so they could use your birthday as an excuse to go out to drink. Seonghwa helped you make sure all of the technical parts were handled, like your paperwork for your passport and other such things. What you hadn't noticed at first was that the tickets were for business class. Not quite top-tier first class, but way better than economy, especially for a nearly twelve hour flight. Your flight was set to take off at about two in the afternoon and so you would arrive in Switzerland for 7 pm their time. You two had even been preparing as much as possible for the jet lag you were going to experience, but it was a bit hard since you both still had to work. The flight was long, but it was quite fun, and it was fancy. You had never flown so far internationally, let alone in such a comfortable way. The meal was ten times better than what plane food you normally got to eat, and it was even better because Seonghwa was with you the whole time. You already thought he was the best boyfriend anyone had ever had, but this really was the icing on the cake…

"Cake, for breakfast?" You grumbled groggily, looking at the dessert he had set on the nightstand. By the time you had gotten all settled into your lodging, it was nearly ten at night, so you had fallen asleep quickly. The clock next to the cake read 11:42, so theoretically, it would be cake for lunch.

"We're not going to eat it now, but I wanted you to blow out the candle first." You still hadn't crawled out far enough from your blanket cocoon to look at him, only seeing his hands stick the blue '25' candle into the top of the dessert. The icing was white and had yellow and purple flowers piped around for decoration. Seonghwa chuckled as he helped you sit up, the plush duvet falling to your lap as you rubbed your eyes. When your eyes focused back, you could read the top of the cake, "Happy Birthday, Love." He smiled, reading the top of the cake for you. He brushed an errant strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, then left a soft kiss on your forehead. Yawning and stretching, you turned in the bed as he lit the candle with a match, then he carefully sat on the bed with you, holding the cake steadily.

"Make a wish." He was so freaking pretty, let alone when he would smile. How'd you get so lucky? You wondered that often. You finally noticed that he had a headband on that had a small fake crown attached to it, a plastic tiara lying next to him on the bed. You smiled, looking to the small flame and closed your eyes, 'let me be able to be with him forever,' then you blew out the candle. You clapped to yourself softly as he put the birthday cake back down, then grabbed the gold piece of plastic, and let it slip onto your head, the little combs on the ends securing it with your hair. When his hands came away, you adjusted it slightly, and before you could thank him, he had something else he was handing you. Not only that, there was two more boxes on the floor along with the gift bag he was handing you.

"What the…Seonghwa!" You scolded half-heartedly. He had already flew you to a whole other country, rented a beautiful place to stay and got you a very yummy looking cake.

"Just open it." He let you take the bag, sitting on the bed before you at a better angle. He was in a white cardigan sweater; the low neck showed his collarbone off as it stretched over his shoulders. He didn't have anything on underneath and the wide swatch of skin that was revealed made you want to lean forward and kiss away the smooth perfection. Forcing your attention back to the gift, you removed the tissue paper and reached in to grab the actual gift. It was a small wooden box, beautifully stained dark with gold painted cherry blossoms dotting the wood. It was already beautiful, but when you lifted the lid at the hinges, a soft melody began to play, one very familiar to you. Seonghwa noticed tears welling in your eyes again, but he just let it be, there was no point trying to get you to stop crying at that point. The little ballerina that had rose off her perch in the music box spun smoothly along with the melody, her little dress was a soft purple, her hair up in a bun, the same color as your own.

"Seonghwa…" You were nearly out of breath, it was gorgeous.

"Where did you find this?" You ran your finger over the deep purple inside, watching her spin in her dance, it was a different exterior, but almost identical otherwise to one you had as a child. The song was even the same, and you had lost the box when you moved in the fifth grade, heartbroken that you would never see it again.

"There's a store I found that had European antiques. I was just looking in the window and I saw this through the window. When I heard the song, I grabbed it, since I knew it was your favorite." He explained, leaning down to grab one of the boxes. You reluctantly closed the music box, setting it gently to the side, letting him place the box on your lap.

"These are more for today…" He grabbed the other box as well as you untied the ribbon and opened the bigger, flat box. Inside was a dress made from a delicate, pale yellow material. It was decorated with purple flowers, resembling the cake sitting on the bedside table. There was also a pair of white sandals, decorated with yellow flowers.

"Oh, it's so pretty!" You smiled at the dress, fingers running over the purple collar of the dress. Yes, it was a present, but it was going to be hard to beat the music box. The next item he handed to you was wrapped. He scolded you for being delicate with the wrapping paper, but none the less let you slowly open it, trying not to tear the white shining paper too bad. Inside was a box of luxury bath supplies. It had a bath bomb, salts, bubble bath and a small pillow to put on the edge of the tub for your head.

"Why don’t you take a bath and then we can get a later lunch?" Seonghwa helped you get the tape off of the plastic box so you could open it. You hummed as the delicate fruity scents hit your nose and you nearly jumped out of bed, eager to get in the tub. He chuckled as you shuffled quickly into the bathroom, and he smiled even wider at your excited gasp.

"You already drew the water!" He heard a small splash, "Its just right!" You peaked your head out of the door and smiled.

"Thank you, Seonghwa!"

"Of course, love." He let you take your bath and got ready for everything else he had planned. You plopped the round ball into the water, watching it fizz and turn the water a warm reddish-pink. You sprinkled some of the salts in as well, letting them dissolve before quickly shedding your sleepwear and sinking in. The tub was nice a big, perfect for relaxing.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" You reached over the edge, grabbing the small pillow and using the suction cups to attach it on the edge. Sighing, you relaxed into the nice hot water, the pleasant aroma and salts soothing you as well. The plane ride, while much better in business class, still had left you a bit sore and the bath was just what you needed. After you were done, you fixed your hair, put on some light makeup, and put on the dress. Looking yourself over in the tall standing mirror near the dresser of the bedroom, you smiled at your reflection. It fit perfectly, of course, and it was incredibly comfortable. Grabbing a small bag to use as a purse, you grabbed the sandals as well and met Seonghwa downstairs in the small living room at the front of your lodging.

"Does it look good?" you asked as you came in, drawing his attention away from his phone to you. He gaped for a second, then smiled warmly, "You look absolutely gorgeous, love." Like he had any room to talk. As you went to leave, he kneeled down in front of you, helping you get the sandals on, then led you out with your hand in his. The weather was perfect, fluffy white clouds floating in the deep blue sky. People milled up and down the cobblestone street and you joined them.

"The restaurant for lunch is just on the next street." He told you, and you made your way down the sidewalk and around the corner to get to a more business-centered street.

It was a lovely little bistro-type establishment and you even got a free dessert because of your birthday. Since you didn't have to drive anywhere, you both enjoyed a glass of champagne and you honestly ate more than you should have.

"Why don’t we walk and look at the shops?" Seonghwa motioned down the street after paying the bill, not letting you even look at the receipt. There were several little businesses, many of them were obviously getting most of their business from tourists. You had to be really careful with what you looked at, or how long, or if you would make a comment on something. Seonghwa tried to buy everything you were even slightly interested in, so you had to hold your tongue a bit. At the end of the street was a small courtyard with a fountain in the center, some street vendors and performers set up for the many passerby. By the time you reached the fountain you had acquired a silver charm bracelet, a pocket mirror with a celestial design on the back, a set of three glass figurines of your favorite animal, and a pair of flats with a pretty floral design. Those were just the nice gifts, you also had several different confections, a bag of marbles made to look like dragon's eggs, a wooden flute, a much nicer though still fake tiara, and earrings made to look like macarons.

"I really don't need all of this, Seonghwa." You huffed, taking a seat at the edge of the fountain. He had been carrying the bags, not even letting you hold the bag of chocolate covered pretzels.

"Yes, you do." Your boyfriend tried to hide his smile, trying to maintain his false seriousness. As you had walked down the road, you had also taken several pictures at several places where that was the intended goal. Many of them were selfies of the two of you, or simply of you standing by various things. There was a giant taxidermy bear, with a huge teddy bear next to it and you even put on a headband with bear ears on it for the picture, but didn't let Seonghwa buy it. A statue of some local historical figure, a model of the largest fish ever caught in the area, and several pictures of you holding miniature instruments were among the photos. Together you would take a picture in front of the shops you bought stuff from, for reference, and at seemingly random times, when he would wrap his arm around your shoulders and make you look at his phone. There were several times when you would be near a group of girls and you could tell they were staring at your boyfriend and whispering, but you didn't know the language they were speaking. Your eyes flitted over to his exposed upper chest. You at first were incredibly pleased with him wearing such a flattering top, but you wondered if maybe you wanted to be the only one able to see him like that. So, you had gotten a matching set of small capes made to look like those worn by monarchs. It covered him enough, but still wouldn't make him too hot in the midday sun.

"Can you keep going or do we need to head back?"

"I'm fine looking at more shops, but I need you to promise and not buy me something unless I explicitly ask you to." You pointed your finger in his face, making sure he was looking at you.

"Okay, I promise." He sounded a bit put off, but he smiled right away, reaching up to adjust your cape. With your tiara, you looked and felt a bit childish, but it was your birthday, dammit! You were going to do what you wished. The day continued in bliss, and most of what Seonghwa bought you after was food, except for a medium-sized stuffed wolf and a nice pair of sunglasses since the clouds had all but left and the bright light was hurting your eyes. As you sat on the grass at the edge of the waterway running through the middle of town, you took the glasses off and set them over the snout of the stuffed wolf. The spot was near the edge of town, and on the other side of the water was a field that, when in season, would be filled with flowers. However, that time of year, there weren’t any in bloom. The sun was creeping closer and closer to the horizon, a beautiful array of colors painting the sky.

"This place is gorgeous." You sighed in bliss, leaning back, propping yourself up with your hands on the ground behind you.

"That's why I picked it." Seonghwa hummed, digging through one of the many bags, looking for something. A few stores back, he had come out with a canvas, zipped bag, and would not for any reason let you look inside. He had added a few things over the following hours, and you were growing incredibly curious. But…you supposed you could be patient. As you watched the sun sink to just peak over the distant horizon, he made a noise of realization and hurriedly began to pack stuff up.

"Seonghwa?"

"Let's head back, I have-" He halted, then shook his head, helping you stand up from the ground, "Let's get back." You were growing even more curious as you walked back to your rented lodging. The restaurant right across the way was finally open, seemingly only for dinner, and it seemed Seonghwa had made a reservation. While the bistro offered food you were at least somewhat familiar with, you had not tried anything even similar to the menu. Your boyfriend told you to ignore the prices and order anything that looked good, so you could try everything. Luckily, you had no idea what the conversion rate of the currency was, so you could reliably ignore the cost.

"Do you mind sitting and waiting for a little bit?" he asked, gathering up the bags after he paid the bill.

"Uh, okay?" Your place was literally right across the street, so you didn't mind.

"I'll message you when you can come!" he called as he left the establishment and you watched him jog across and enter the place.

"Huh…" You knew he was planning another surprise but had no clue what it was. You were able to finish your drink before you got the text, your phone buzzing with his specific notification sound. Since the meal had been paid, you simply got up and left the restaurant, heading across the street and entering the lodging yourself. Only the lamp was on in the living room, but you were able to see there were several items on the coffee table that were not there when you left. This intrigued you, so you headed straight in, not noticing the flower petals littering the floor of the hall leading further in and toward the stairs. Stopping by the table, you saw there was a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers in a vase, two candles on each side, another box wrapped in a ribbon, with an envelope on top. You smiled at the sight, still a little blown away by the effort your boyfriend had put into celebrating your birthday. Leaning down, you grabbed the envelope first, pulling the card out that lay inside.

Please put this on, love, and come up.

He had written in his smooth handwriting, and you carefully set the note down, reaching for the box then. Pulling the ribbon loose, you looked inside and found another item he had bought you to wear. This time it was a soft, lacey babydoll lingerie set in a delicate purple shade. In the corner of the box was a small glass bottle designed to look like a diamond, the scent of the perfume was heavenly. There was a thin satin robe to match, and your face flushed a bit at the sight. You had never been confident enough to buy something like that to wear before. However, seeing what he had bought gave you an extreme confidence boost, and it made you feel beautiful and sexy as you put it on in the restroom on the first floor. After you got the set carefully on, you sprayed the perfume in all the right places. Looking over yourself the best you could in the mirror, you draped the robe on over the lingerie, and prepared to join your boyfriend. You were honestly a bit nervous. It wasn't that you had never had sex with Seonghwa, because you definitely had, but this was different. He had you wrapped up like you were a gift for him; you felt incredibly wanted and special. Even more so than usual. It was as you entered the hallway that you finally saw the purple petals decorating the hardwood floor and led up the stairs. You were careful when going up, not wanting to damage the petals too much, nor slip and ruin the evening. Taking a deep breath to steady your excitement and nerves, you put your hand on the nob, and opened the door. There were candles set up around the room, the low, soft light casting across your boyfriend, who was sitting on the bed, a single flower twirling in his grasp. His face was a bit bashful, probably because he had changed into thin, flowy black pants, and a matching black button up…but it was undone, hanging open, fully revealing the smooth skin his sweater earlier gave a sneak peak of. When his eyes landed on you as well, his nerves faded, seeing you wrapped up in the robe and lingerie he had picked out. Even though it was your birthday, you were a gift to him, the elegant scent of the perfume wafted gently toward him as you moved closer, letting the door fall closed. He stood to meet you, both of your faces slightly flushed. You took the flower from him and he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, then tipped your head up by his hand on your chin so your eyes could meet his.

"You look beautiful, (Y/N)." You hummed when he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth and you had to fiddle yours fingers together to hold back from just running your hands over his bare torso.

"Have you had a good birthday, love?"

"Of course, Seonghwa." You whined a bit at the end, wanting his soft kisses over your cheek to go back to your lips.

"Would you like a bit of dessert?" he asked, leading you toward the bed. You still hadn't eaten the cake he put in the fridge that morning, but that wasn't what he meant. He had a display plate on the bed with several different cuts of fruit and you smiled. You actually preferred fruit or something fruity and sweet for a dessert even over a pastry. You sat delicately on the bed and moved up further at his prompting as he joined you, placing the platter in between you two. As he held up a strawberry to your lips, he mimicked the bite you took, smirking a bit as you chewed. A bit of the sweet juice ran over your bottom lip, so he leaned forward, running his tongue over the trail, then finally captured your lips in a kiss. You whimpered in relief, and eagerly let his tongue then enter your mouth so he could taste the strawberry on your own tongue. After you ate each piece of fruit, he would lick the remains off your mouth and tongue. When he gave you the second cherry, he took one of the stems and challenged to see if you could tie it in a knot together. Well, you couldn't, but maybe because you were both too focused on the kiss than tying the stem. The kiss that followed the gentle flavor of banana was the final step, he set the platter to the side, deepening the kiss further and leading you to remove the soft purple robe you had on over the lingerie. He exhaled in awe, the nearly sheer fabric encompassing your breasts was lined with soft lace, the lower part of the babydoll was truly sheer and laid over your ribs, ending with the same lace as the top. The panties were barely such, but added a sweet and delicate detail. He inhaled deeply as his nose rank over the column of your throat, enjoying the aroma of the perfume. Seonghwa's soft kisses quickly grew harder, his tongue running over your skin. You whimpered when his teeth sank into the crook of your neck slightly. It morphed into a full moan when he sucked hard, and you know it left a mark. He continued this pattern, each new bruise setting your skin ablaze further. After what had to be the tenth or eleventh love bite, he pulled away, sitting back to admire his handiwork. Your face was flushed all the way down to your chest and the tips of your ears, your core already clenching around nothing. Seonghwa brought his fingers to your pussy, rubbing at your folds through your panties, the thin material not able to hide how wet you already were.

"Already so wet, love." He hummed, mouth back near your neck, his voice rumbling in your ear. Trying to ignore his fingers at your core, your hands came up and shakily tugged at his shirt, trying to get it off. He chuckled, helping you with the process, and before he could lean back over you, you sat up yourself. Your boyfriend rose an eyebrow in curiosity, then smirked when your lips met his neck in return. It was your birthday, and if you wanted to mark him back, he was going to let you. You couldn't use the same amount of force he had, and you were nervous to even just nibble his skin. After about three smaller marks, your lips found his again, and he rested back onto the bed, pulling you into his lap. You took your chance and found the waist band of his pants, the thin material not hiding his arousal much. As you pulled his cock out, your small hand wrapped around him, lips going back to his. Since you were distracted by the kiss, his own hand found your core, fingers having sneaked into your panties. You whimpered when he ran two fingers through your dripping folds, trying to maintain focus of your own task. Your other hand joined the first to cover him better, and he buried a long finger inside. He smirked when your walls clenched around the digit, pumping it a bit before easily adding a second. Your whine spurred him on, his own mind a bit foggy with your soft little hands wrapped around him. Seonghwa spread his fingers, pressing against your tight walls, getting you ready for him.

"Hold on, love." He stopped your own pumping fingers, removing his and leading you to lie back down. You nearly yelped in protest when he climbed off the bed, but you watched him remove the rest of his garments, then he lightly grabbed your ankle, and pulled you down to the edge of the bed. He tried not to laugh at your squeak at this, instead falling to his knees on the floor, making his face level with your pussy. Fully removing your panties, you mewled at his warm breath on your core, then gasped when his tongue ran through your folds.

"S-Seonghwa!"

"You're doing so good for me, love." He mumbled, then buried his tongue inside you, thumb going to your clit. Seonghwa could tell by your twitching hips and little whimpers you were already close. His tongue left your core, then ran up to flick at your clit and your orgasm hit you suddenly.

"Ah!" Your little whines rose and fell with the waves of your climax, leaving your quivering at the end.

"Such a good job." Seonghwa kissed your inner thigh, rising back off the floor, easily wrapping his arms around you, and getting you back further up the bed. Lying there, recovering, he unwrapped you like a present, slipping the lingerie fully off, leaving you bare before him. As he adjusted your legs, spreading them and leading you to wrap them around his waist, he kissed you. You whined louder, feeling the head of his cock rubbing through your folds. He could feel the vibrations of your moans as he slowly sank inside, slowly, inch by inch till he was inside to the hilt. Your boyfriend let you get accustomed to the stretch, kissing over your face lightly, telling you how wonderful you were.

"Move, please." Your voice was soft, fingers flying to his hair when he gave a slow shallow thrust. He built his pace steadily, you yelped when he was allowed a new angle after hiking your leg up higher, knee over his elbow.

"So good, love. You're so pretty, and cute…" His words were littered with little pants, your gummy walls hugged his cock so good. When he leaned back over to kiss you again, your leg over his arm shifted as well, allowing his cock to hit a whole new angle.

"S-Seonghwa!" You keened, feeling your next orgasm rising. He left the kiss, barely, lips still slightly touching, and his own thrusts were growing uneven.

"Hold on, love, let's do it together." He coached and you nodded, then he gave two more thrusts, even harder than the previous ones. Your high-pitched, quivering moan harmonized with his low groan, the heat of his release warmed your core and up into your tummy. As you both caught your breath, he wrapped his arms around you, sitting up with you, leaving you in his lap again, half-hard cock still inside. You hadn't noticed that he grabbed something else from the night stand, still in the haze of your release.

"I have one more present, love." He pressed his cheek to your hair when you had slumped forward to rest on his shoulder.

"Hm?" You let him help you sit up better, holding you at the waist so you didn't ragdoll back to the bed.

"I know you've never wanted this to be a big, fancy thing…" He presented the small box to you, and your heart beat increased, so much so he could feel it through his cock still in you.

"Hwa?" you breathed out, hand resting on his shoulder as he used his thumb to flick the box open. Inside was a thin silver ring, a small diamond resting in the middle, two small rubies resting next to the center gem.

"(Y/N), you're the love of my life, and I can't think of ever letting you go. Will you be my wife?" He knew you were already crying, without even having to look at your face. With hitching sobs, you nodded, not able to get words out, resting fully on his shoulder.

"Hm?"

"Yes." you whispered and he kissed the crown of your head, letting you rest on him so he could better use his hands. He slipped the ring on your finger, the size perfect of course, and you looked at it with teary eyes.

"I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, Seonghwa…" You were trying to control your crying, but it was hard. He had done so much for you, giving you the best birthday ever, and now he gave you your final present, which was by far the best one. When you sat up better, admiring the ring, his kiss pulled your attention away, and you clenched around his cock, hard again. He rolled forward again, your back hitting the bed, and he smiled when your now-ringed hand cupped his cheek. Something about seeing you with that ring on, knowing you would be his forever, really got to him. Seonghwa sat up more, this time slinging both of your legs over his elbows, the new angle brought a gasp out of you and when he began, he was immediately rougher than before. His hips snapped hard, and you yelped as he started, this time much more passionate then before. You were glad you were so well prepared from earlier, because this time he wasn't holding back, channeling everything he was feeling into each move.

"Oh, my god…" You gasped, a particularly hard thrust hitting just the right spot. Seonghwa led you to wrap your legs around his waist, propping himself up further to maintain the angle, slightly pressing you into the bed. His hands found yours, fingers linking through yours, pinning them to the bed above your head. He kissed you again, this time more tongue than anything, and you squeaked with each thrust. You could feel his emotion through every point of contact, and you marveled that he was going to be yours forever. He didn't pull back from the kiss, but his hips stuttered, both of you nearly there. At his final pump, you both fell over the edge, even more heat filled you, to the point it dripped out of you where his body met yours. Finally leaving the kiss so you could both catch your breath, Seonghwa pressed his forehead to yours.

"Happy birthday, love."

Masterlist

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa #birthday fic

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c00kieguy · 22 hours

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hai :3c (regarding your long distance argenti post; i got lazy at the end sorry huhu)

imagine, one day, he doesn't reply all of a sudden.

imagine one day, late in the evening, you're waiting for argenti's usual goodnight message—either in the form of honeyed, poetic words that could be translated into ballad or the sound of his smooth-as-velvet voice that you could listen to for hours on end.

imagine, falling into uneasy sleep as you can no longer force your eyes open trying to stay awake awaiting your lover's fleeting words reserved for you and only you.

imagine waking up in the morning, immediately turning on your phone in hopes that argenti was perhaps too occupied to send you a message (or, messages) last night—in the past, he has, so hopefully this was one of those cases.

imagine, after a very long day with zero replies from your one and only, there was still radio silence on his end, your messages growing ever more frantic.

a day grows into two, then three, then four, then five.

and then five days becomes two weeks.

at this point, you may as well be growing grey hairs from all the stress you've accumulated worrying about what the hell happened to your boyfriend. he's warned you about the possibility of not being able to contact you for periods at a time due to "certain circumstances"... whatever they were.

but there was also a slim chance of the other possibility of him embarking danger on his journeys out across the stars. you know him—he can be overdramatic, corny.

and reckless.

you perish the mere thought as the doorbell rings; once, then twice.

you slowly cross your abode to the entrance, confused. you aren't expecting anybody today, nor did you order anything. thinking none of it, hoping for a well-rounded distraction you twist the knob open only to be met with a bushel of familiar bright red hair and the scent of roses.

motionless you stare, slack-jawed and silent as you take him in.

you now see that his red hair is ever so unkempt, mussy and tangled; his fragrance of roses shrouded by the odour of blood that stains some of his and dirty scuffed armour. a million questions race through your head among the lines of 'what was so urgent to warrant him not cleaning up when he arrived at your doorstep', or 'where the fuck has he been'.

you almost don't notice him take your hand in his—so gentle, so unlike a knight who has faced countless battles—as he bows down to give yours a tender kiss, you almost wish it was on your lips instead. almost.

it's unfair, really, even with his unkempt appearance you rarely see if ever—he still looks so handsome. he glances up at you with his sparkling eyes, still bowing, answering your unsaid question with an apologetic look.

"my sincerest apologies. my phone had been swallowed by a sting."

("where's my jumping hug you usually bestow me whenever i visit, my dear?" he almost pouts, as if unaware of his uncouth appearance.

"you have bug guts and blood on you."

"but i missed you. :("

"go take a shower, argenti."

you gave him plenty of cuddles and kisses once he and his armour were all cleaned up, and even considered purchasing a backup phone for him in case his new one got swallowed. again.)

ANON THIS WAS SO???!?! I LOVE YOU

ofc his phone got swallowed by a sting. I'd like to imagine he doesn't actually have any important things on his device for this very reason. Every single picture he takes, every important document or any other kind of information he wants saved, he just sends it to you lol. You have a separate folder called 'Argenti's Stuff' (right next to the folder with all the selfies he sends you) (there're like 500+ pictures in it at this point)

"Next time you lose it I'll cuff the damn thing to your wrist."

Ohh and taking care of him afterwards too. I bet he's exhausted from his….endeavors. Imagine running him a bath and helping him wash off all the gunk from his hair >> I got a little carried away hehe, holding him 🤲

Taking in a deep breath you steel yourself against the gruesome state of his hair. Beautiful red locks, once so soft and lush, now matted and sticking to his neck in wet patches. As if that wasn't foul enough, you were sure the tiny clumps of flesh scattered on his hair were just that, flesh. Not to mention the small remnants of the sting's carapace sprinkled on top of everything.

You shake your head and continue, undeterred by the sight in front of you.

Argenti sighs as soon as the warm water hits his head. The heat from the water running down his back like a cozy stream envelops him and alleviates his fatigue as he sinks further into the tub. Holding the shower head with one hand you use the other to carefully work on cleaning up the mess in his hair.

The knight melts into your soft touch, your fingers feel like magic the way they easily untangle his messy hair. The grime and gunk that covered his hair form a bloody river that runs into the drain as they slowly get washed away.

Once you were certain that everything from his hair was cleared out, you move onto the shampoo. Argenti grumbles as you apply a generous amount of the cold gel to his head, clearly disgruntled at the stark contrast in temperate. You disregard his silent complains and start massaging his scalp with both hands, rubbing the foam around his head and adding more shampoo when needed. You swore your bottle felt half as empty by the time you were done.

Rinsing out his hair was a harder task that you thought. Just the sheer volume of it was enough to hold so much soap, you had to spend a considerable amount of time just to wash it all off.

You repeat the whole process just in case, after all, it's hard to tell if there's any blood left when the hair in question is also red…

By the time you're done he's fast asleep and he looks so impossibly cute that way. Just seeing Argenti so visibly relaxed and dozing off made you feel sleepy as well. So you carry him back to the bed and fall asleep next to him <3

(yea I also got lazy at the end lol. it just be like that..)

#honkai star rail #hsr argenti #argenti x reader #x reader #hsr x reader #I've read this like THREE TIMES #genuinely anon wtf #just coming in here and dropping a banger and leaving?!?!!#blood and guts covered Argenti....#consider me a dead man #ask #anon #I'm gonna be thinking about this for the next few weeks....#c00kie.writes #hsr

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bixbythemartian · 16 hours

Text

Okay, I wasn't going to say anything, but I've seen posts about this get passed around. And it's probably too late to push back on this, anyway, but I'm so frustrated I feel the need to say to say something. This is coming from a place of love- I just hate seeing this going around, and I want to offer some perspective on the matter.

First of all, regarding that poll where the user did not know how to pronounce 'Miette'- if you look in the replies, it doesn't take long to discover that the OP was genuinely confused about the pronunciation and, when corrected, was working to get it right. That poll came from a place of innocent ignorance. I hope the OP took it down and stopped reblogs and turned notes off or whatever, because some people said some awful shit. I hope you are the kind of person who is kind and understanding, in the face of such ignorance. Or, if you can't be that, I hope you can at the very least be quiet. (And props to the people in the replies who patiently and kindly explained things to the OP.)

Second of all, I've seen a lot of posts talking about literacy rates, and I'd like to point out that English literacy has very little to do with figuring how to pronounce a French fucking word, goddamn. The OP just didn't know. The dunking, the pointing, the laughing- rude, unnecessary, not helpful.

Thirdly, in response to the complaints of 'they don't even teach phonics in schools these days'- that's bullshit. Because the odds are very good that they didn't teach phonics in schools when you went to school, either.

When I was a kid, it was called Whole Language. It was the new hot literacy technique, and a lot of schools adopted it. It used cueing techniques and sight words and was very similar.

If you're a millennial, you might remember the commercials for Hooked on Phonics, and you might conclude that teaching phonics in schools was perhaps not common, if you think about that for a bit. If it was worth it to sell a whole reading tutoring program for struggling readers based in phonics, perhaps it might lead one to conclude that phonics weren't as common as other methods, right? You might not have been taught phonics to start. What you do know about phonics, you might have picked up in the past 20-30 years, right?

Okay. Lets go back further, you know Dick and Jane? It was based on, more or less, the same sight words principle, and those primers date from the 1930s, although I don't think that teaching technique came really into vogue until the 40s.

If you are alive, today, in the United States, the likelihood that you were not taught phonics in school is well above non-zero. Especially if you're a millennial.

The notable exception is the 1970s. And during that period of time, there were probably plenty of schools that still used fucking Dick and Jane. And plenty of schools that were starting to adopt Whole Language, because while it was popular in the 80's and 90's, it was developed before. So, Gen X, you didn't get out of this unscathed either, though you had a better chance of getting a phonics-based reading program, I think.

'Kids these days' are not less literate because they were taught wrong. A great deal of us who are alive and speak English as a first language were taught wrong.

(I also think this is the common way English as a Second Language is taught and I'm sorry if you learned sight words, it's so much less intuitive than phonics, and English phonics aren't particularly intuitive. But I know a lot less about this, and I'm not sure.)

The reason some younger people struggle with language and words that I, for example, don't, is that I've been reading and speaking the language a lot longer. That's it. That's likely the same thing for you.

Please quit mocking people for their lack of information, for a start. I don't blame you for not knowing this about the literacy programs, for example. I had to do a lot of research on this. Right? Odds are good, you didn't know this.

And you are hitting people who struggle with literacy for other reasons- English as a second language, for example. The people who deal with dyslexia, there's plenty of autistic people who struggle to communicate fluently in their first language, and many more people who struggle with learning, speaking, and otherwise communicating in English for a huge variety of reasons.

Even if you're right, you're hitting people who had no choice in the language method they were taught from. They were five.

I don't think people mean to be unkind, generally (some do, but we block and move on), but it's really frustrating to a lot of snark circulate without the greater context of 'actually, a lot of English speakers of all age groups were taught English this way, especially USAmericans' and 'hey, what does English literacy have to do with pronouncing a French word, anyway?'

Okay? Okay.

Love you bye

#literacy

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hanniedream · 18 hours

Text

drunken confessions with joshua hong.

warning: mentions of cheating but it doesn't actually happen, joshua is drunk.

a/n: the drunk shua brainrot is never leaving me i fear. and just so you know, whenever i post about drunk shua it's always @synthetickitsune's fault. always.

you never fought with joshua. sure you had a few minor disagreements here and there as every normal couple do, but you can't think of a time when an argument between you has gotten this big. this time feels different, joshua had to physically remove himself from the situation and told you he had to go for a walk to get some air and clear his head.

a walk shouldn't take longer than thirty minutes, maybe an hour at most. at least that's what you thought, but the doorbell rings at close to 2am instead and you jump up from the couch where you had accidentally fallen asleep on while waiting for your boyfriend to come back so you can hopefully talk to him and clear the air before you go to bed.

you open the door to see a very drunk joshua being held up limply against seungcheol's side and you quickly move aside for them to come in.

"sorry for waking you," seungcheol says as he helps joshua lie down on the same couch you'd just gotten up from. "i was going to bring him back to mine but he insisted on coming back here."

you quickly shake your head, "don't worry about it. sorry for troubling you."

seungcheol smooths down his t-shirt as he stands back up then looks at you, "i don't know what happened exactly since he wouldn't say much, but judging from the way he was drinking earlier he must be pretty upset."

at the mention of your fight from earlier, you let out a sigh then give seungcheol a reassuring smile. "i'll talk to him tomorrow morning."

he doesn't say anything and only gives you a nod then heads for the door and you see him out with a quick "thank you".

turning around after shutting the door, you see joshua flip on his side as he tugs roughly on the collar of his button down plaid shirt. he must be uncomfortable. you pick out a t-shirt he often wears to sleep from the closet then go into the bathroom to get a wet wash cloth before coming back out into the living room.

"sit up," you tell joshua as you tap him on his shoulder lightly.

no response.

you attempt to pull him up into a sitting position and after struggling for what feels like forever, you finally succeed. with one hand, you brush his hair back from his face and start cleaning him up with the other. you're about to unbutton his shirt when his hand suddenly flies up to stop you.

"what are you doing?" he slurs with his eyes still shut tight, fingers tightly wrapped around your wrist.

"what do you think? i'm cleaning you up." you try to free your hand from his grasp but even while drunk, joshua was still a lot more stronger than you.

you try to undo his buttons with your other hand and you hear him mumbling something so you lean closer to him and you finally hear what he was saying.

"i'm in a relationship."

a fit of uncontrollable laughter escapes you at the ridiculousness of the situation once you understood what he thought was happening. you continue unbuttoning his shirt and you're about to remove it when joshua's hand shoots up to hold the collars together, preventing you from taking it off him.

"i don't know who you are or what you're trying to do," he struggles to get out between hiccups. "but i'm in a very loving and happy relationship and i hope you can respect that."

he throws his head back to rest against the cushion as he begins drunkenly rambling about how much he loves his "other half", how he pictures their future together and how he would never ever do anything to jeopardize that. you would definitely find the scene before you romantic and sweet if you didn't suddenly recall that right before this was your very first serious fight, the whole reason why joshua even got this drunk in the first place and now his intoxicated self is telling you how much he loves you and wants to potentially spend the rest of his life with you.

you don't have much time to be lost in your own thoughts and feelings though because joshua is trying to tell you something and he's signalling you to come closer.

"i can hook you up with a friend of mine though," he shoots you a cheeky grin and before you can even reject his idea, he's scrambling for his phone in his back pocket. the action nearly causing him to fall off the couch.

"soonyounggggg," he calls out loudly once the call gets connected and you roll your eyes. god, he sure is obnoxious when he's drunk.

he turns the phone over to you and you burst out laughing when you see an equally, if not more, drunk soonyoung looking back at you. his face was red and he can barely keep his eyes open.

"say hi," joshua instructs softly and you give the camera a half hearted wave. "soonyoung, would you be interested in meeting this person? like for a date?"

soonyoung leans closer to the screen and squints his eyes at you then he leans back with his lips pursed as if he's seriously considering joshua's suggestion.

"why are you not asking me if i'm interested in your friend?" you interrupt before soonyoung can answer.

joshua sits up slightly to look at you, "are you interested in meeting soonyoung?"

"no, i'm not."

"why not?" he whines. "soonyoung is amazing, he's cute and funny. oh, and he's a dancer too." he wiggles his brows at you suggestively.

you shrug, "i have a boyfriend."

joshua lets out a loud gasp as if you'd just told him something scandalous then he whispers, "why were you trying to undress me then?"

"because," you take his phone from his hand to end the call with soonyoung, "my boyfriend is drunk so i'm trying to get him cleaned up so we can go to sleep."

he looks at you with furrowed brows and you can almost see the gears in his head turning then he opens his mouth, "what has that got to do with what i asked you?"

"shua," you sigh as you rest your hands on his shoulders to look him in the eyes and you can see how hard he's trying to focus. "you're my boyfriend."

his mouth forms an 'o' before he tells you, "well... y/n isn't going to like what you just said."

you figured trying to reason with a drunk man isn't going to lead anywhere so you give up and make him drink some water then tell him to get some sleep before heading back to the bedroom. you're nearly at the door when your phone vibrates in your hand and you find a text from joshua that reads: hey.., im nit surw what exavtly happrned bit appatentlt weve brokwn up ans im seeng somwone else mow

joshua wakes up the next morning confused and with a pounding in his head. he looks around to check the surroundings and flashbacks of what happened before he left the house last night comes rushing back to him. he rushes to the bedroom to check if you were there only to find the room empty and the bed was made. did you leave the house after him and spent the night somewhere else? he goes back to the couch to check his phone and sees the last text he'd sent you and panic grows in him, it reads like a break up text and he needs to explain to you that that's not what he meant. he checks his call log to see if he'd called you last night and finds that his last call was to soonyoung so he calls him to ask if he remembers what they had talked about.

"well, there was someone else there with you..." soonyoung closes his eyes as he tries to remember the details. "you said something about meeting for a date."

joshua's eyes widen. he'd brought someone else home? were you home when that happened? is that why you left?

all he can think about is how badly he'd fucked up and how he needs to fix this when he hears the sound of the front door unlocking and he quickly tells soonyoung he's ending the call.

"oh, you're awake." you glance at him briefly before kicking off your shoes.

he gives you a sheepish look then blurts out, "i didn't mean it."

you stop in your tracks then turn to him, "what?"

"what i said last night during our fight," he takes a deep breath to prepare himself for what he's about to reveal, "...and that text. i'm not breaking up with you and i'm not seeing anyone else."

the mention of the drunk text made you chuckle and joshua shoots you a confused look.

"i'm not sure what happened last night but i asked soonyoung and he said i might have brought someone home with me," he looks at the floor because he can't bear to look at your face and see how hurt by this you'd be but he hears you start laughing even louder and his head shoots up. "you don't care that i might have cheated on you?"

it's funny how hurt he sounds when he asks you this.

"shua..." you're breathless from all that laughing, "how can you cheat on me with me?"

"what do you mean?"

"that person soonyoung saw on the call was me."

you sit down next to him and proceed to explain everything that happened last night including his drunk confessions and ramblings then you both start laughing at the fact that joshua called soonyoung to set you up with him and you stop when you suddenly remember that you were still in the middle of an unresolved fight.

"but i thought we talked it out last night," he looks up at you with his big, doe eyes and he knows it works like a charm every time, "with my love confessions and all."

"you couldn't even recognise me and literally tried to set me up with soonyoung."

a pout forms on his lips, "i was drunk and also an idiot."

"yeah, you are."

"but i'm an idiot who's very, very sorry."

"you'd better be."

"i am," he says with a firm nod then he reaches for your hands and is relieved when you don't move away. "and i'm also an idiot who loves you very much."

you're silent and he squeezes your hands gently, "i'm also an idiot who's begging for your forgiveness and will die if you don't forgive me."

you pull your hands out from his to hold them instead and you let out a sigh. "i'm also an idiot that's sorry about what happened."

joshua smiles at you then leans in to kiss you softly and you feel his smile grow when you kiss him back.

"so i'm guessing you don't want to date soonyoung?"

"i'm breaking up with you."

joshua pulls you back down when you try to stand up, "so you can date soonyoung?"

you shove him away, "now you're just pushing it."

#seventeen fic #svt fic #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen angst #svt angst #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #joshua fic #joshua fluff #joshua angst #joshua scenarios #seventeen x you #svt x you #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #joshua x you #joshua x reader

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yuri-is-online · 3 days

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Keep thinking bout Yutu and his relationship to his dad. Like we know a little more about Ace, Floyd, Azul and Riddle (maybe I miss someone else?) but I was curious about other details or interactions with the other Overblot boys.

Like how does talking with someone who tries his best to not get involved in other people's business like Jamil work for making his parents fall in love (if that's even something Yutu can see happening with how distant he is)? How does Yutu go about trying to lay some clues for Vil without being found when Vil's doing his best (with Rook's help) to figure out what's going on?

Or what about the shenanigans Ortho would get to to ensure Idia and Yuu get together so they can try to stop the apocalypse and how would Yutu feel about having at least one person (his uncle at that!) who he can rely on? Or does Yutu ever find himself in a situation that makes him go "oh, I could've had this with dad if it weren't for the council" whenever Malleus says something deep without realizing?

Gaaaaahhhhh I just really like this au and I wanna ask you so many questions but I also don't wanna be annoying

ask is referencing the fyuuture kid au, information on which can be found here and here, or under the series section on my masterlist.

No one is annoying for asking questions! I have asks for Idia and Leona's Yutus, which I think makes every overblot boy except for Jamil and Vil due for a detailed post. Azul! Yutu is a bit of a grey area since I have talked about him a bunch but haven't done detailed hc for him. Yet anyway, Jade and Floyd got one so he needs one too otherwise it'll bug me.

Jamil! Yutu absolutely has a lot of guilt and self hatred around his entire existence. As I talked about in the post about the main cast, Jamil was executed in Yutu's future, and he feels personally responsible for that. If his dad had never fallen in love with Yuu then he would have had a chance at his freedom, that's how Yutu has come to see it anyway. He doesn't want Jamil to fall in love with Yuu, even if it means erasing his existence. Down that road lies only tragedy, but there is also something so beautiful about the way Jamil interacts with Yuu when he thinks no one is looking. There is a degree of mutual respect for how hard the other works and intense desire for approval and praise he can sympathize with. He just doesn't see a way for this to end well if it's allowed to continue, he's a very pessimistic kid Jamil! Yutu. But then again the others didn't have to see the rotted corpse of their father getting dragged around by a blot phantom and be told by a few angry relatives of Kalim that he is the one who put him there.

Vil! Yutu is a bit afraid of his dad. He knows from personal experience that the man is intense and does not take no for an answer but he's never been in the position to see 1) what a good thing that can be or 2) just how silly that can make him act. He's also NEVER had to contend with the real Rook before. The Rook he's familiar with is a mindless monster, dangerous sure, but with patterns you can memorize and protect yourself from. This guy is just wild, sure his dad says that he's only putting up for his behavior "for now" but someone tell him where the fucking line is??? The last thing he wants is to just say everything and risk ruining the timeline but Vil keeps demanding specifics. The main thing Yutu tries to do is get him cooperating with Idia in learning about blot phantoms, the way he sees it things will be much easier if his two most trusted adults are on the same page. It's not a difficult ask either post chapter six, I think Vil is someone who would want to understand what happened to him on a scientific level to some degree, but oh Yutu. Now you've just made him wonder how you know that little piece of information, not everyone knows about his overblot, but he didn't know that bit did he?

Ortho and Idia! Yutu wind up being very close. Having his uncle on his side puts Yutu in a much more stable place emotionally and mentally than other Yutus. They spend a lot of time analyzing old records about blot and phantoms, everyone else is convinced they're just hyping each other up for some weird PhD project inspired by the Ramshackle Prefect's time at NRC and hey. They aren't exactly wrong. As for how they go about trying to get Idia and Yuu together... it's a lot of anime recommendations and conveniently forgetting they had something else to do. Yutu has just as in depth knowledge of Idia's tastes as Ortho does, and the added bonus of knowing Yuu's, so they search through lists of things, pick out the shows they know will get the two of you talking and then sit back and let you interact. Yutu is genuinely confused about why or if this is working... but Ortho did send him a video of his dad hyping himself up to try and ask you out (he over heated and just hid inside his room instead but hey. It's the thought that counts.)

Malleus! Yutu just got his post here. And yes he does think regularly about what he could have had with his father if things had been different, but a lot of those thoughts come from his sillier moments. Hearing Malleus talk at length about ruins or seeing him confused about how to interact with technology make him seem more... human for lack of a better term to him. He's very familiar with the myth of Malleus Draconia, but he wasn't fathered by a myth. He was fathered by a man who fell in love with a human under very extraordinary circumstances and Yutu wants to know about why. What things did Malleus like most about Yuu? About Twisted Wonderland? If he had gotten a chance to be raised by him what things would Malleus have wanted to teach him? Would he be any different?

Azul! Yutu is also afraid of his dad, but not based on any personal experiences just his own insecurities. He's not a thin guy, he's not in Octavinelle, and he is extremely worried that his dad will see him as some sort of stupid muscle head and be disappointed in having him. He's also, understandably, extremely angry at him when he learns what he did in Book 3 to his parent. Fuck this guy, he'll just save Yuu himself and hopefully if they still get together he'll grow up to be a totally different person when he's born in this good timeline. But there's just something about Azul's approval that he can't help but want now that drives him crazy. Why can't he just be ok with being alone? He has been all this time anyway...

(Meanwhile Azul is deeply impressed with how well Yutu is at disguising himself as a dumb muscle head. Just look at the kid, he's got everyone thinking he just is controlling their shadows while he's actually using a really complicated bit of cosmic magic. Suckers all of them. Not him though. He's not being fooled by anything about Yutu, no sir.)

Leona, Leona, Leona. He's tricky for me to write. Scar apparently has children? In one the the Lion King sequels? Leona's dislike of kids seems to come from his complicated feelings around the throne and his want for people to be independent. I think he would be one of those gruff intense kind of dads who does the whole "we are never getting a pet" thing and then you see him asleep on the recliner with Princess Nooodles III chilling on his lap with him. Anyway back to Yutu-

Leona! Yutu's relationship with his dad is tempered by the fact Leona knows who and what he is from the start and demands to know why he has traveled back in time. He doesn't explicitly say he knows that he is his father or that Yuu is his other parent, just that he knows time travel is involved, so they have a fairly open amount of communication regarding the overblot "business" but not on much else. Yutu has a desire to understand his father and Leona has a desire to not disappoint him. Who would want their dad to be the second prince? He's destined for nothing but a miserable life anyway, all of the responsibility and none of the privilege (outside of the money but lets be real, Leona's ass does not understand that.) I don't think either Leona or Yutu fully understands that his existence is enough for the other to be happy. When they are forced to talk about it they both laugh it off and roll their eyes at how cheesy that sounds but deep down it means a lot to both of them.

Riddle! Yutu has gotten a lot of posts about him and his "hatred" of his dad but I thought I'd take this post to mention I like the idea of Yutu's favorite food being the chestnut tarts/mont blanc that aren't allowed at Unbirthday Parties but that Riddle still wanted to eat anyway. He's a lot like his father in his love of sweets and his determined denial of it, but he isn't the exact same. Also gives him one more thing to pick a fight with Riddle over (his dad doesn't get the big deal, they can just have a private tea party with Yuu and have all the different sweets they want... can't they?)

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au #overblot boys

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annaraebananawriter · 1 day

Text

(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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