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my1oves · 2 days

Note

Hear me out but… request for an experienced fem reader being Laios’ first time? I just think virgin Laios is so adorable because he’s such a monster nerd, endearingly dumb but also so strong and reliant— a true leader. He’s not ignorant towards sex of course, he explores that area in monsters, but he’s never had the chance to explore it himself. I wanna imagine he’s never touched himself before so reader teaches him how to actually have sex (and not just going off by the book yk). Reader teaches him how to pleasure her as well and I just know Laios would be such an eager (and quick) learner, messy and all AAAA I wanna see it qwq

p.s. it’d be funny if reader taught him how to kiss properly too bc I feel like he’s the type to just go in, mouth ajar and his eyes are barely closed 😭

teaching laios

꒰ includes ꒱ ⸻ laios touden.

꒰ warnings ꒱ ⸻ afab! reader, virgin laios, unprotected sex, penetration.

꒰ mimi's note ꒱ ⸻ when laios gets nervous he spits out random monster mating facts, but it's really so cute it's hard to be upset about it. sex with laios is both pleasuring and educational!

It all started when he confessed he'd never been intimate with somebody before. "Wait- seriously?!" Chilchuck gawked, "Ya never had se-" A hand clamped over the half-foots mouth, Laios looking a little embarrassed now.

"Don't say it," Laios frowns, "I just... was never given the opportunity." He murmurs dejectedly, "I've never even kissed anyone before." Your own eyes widened at this statement. He's never even kissed someone before? Your heart skips a beat when he shyly casts a glance your way. Namari bursts out in a laugh.

"Next you're gonna say you've never masturbated before!"

An uncomfortable silence hangs in the air after that, before Chilchuck and Namari awkwardly apologize. "I've read monster mating rituals though!" Laios tries to improve the situation, but it only makes Chilchuck and Namari feel worse for him. After that, the topic swiftly changed to work-related matters instead, everyone happy with the change in topic. Despite the change in topic, it didn't leave your thoughts. You highly doubted the opportunity never presented itself, but rather Laios didn't pick up on the clues.

As the night continued on, everyone slowly dispersed until it was just you and Laios at the table. "You know," You begin, wondering how to approach the topic, "If you wanted I could teach you." Laios looked over at you with furrowed brows.

"Teach me what?" You give him a pointed look, and when he still didn't understand you leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"How to kiss... How to have sex."

The red blush that took over his face almost made you apologize, ready to take back the offer when he spoke up. "Would you really?" It was hard not to pounce on him right then and there, but you did well keeping your cool as you nod.

"Of course." You say, taking a swig of your drink. "Come over tomorrow and I'll start with the basics." You hoped the dim lights in the bar helped hide your own flusteredness.

And that's how you ended up where you are now, straddled on Laios' lap, teaching him how to kiss properly for the last hour. He certainly has improved in such a short time. When you first arrived, he just puckered his lips and hoped for the best, and then he thought perhaps just leaving his mouth open was the best course of action, before you had to stop him and show him how to properly kiss.

"And you don't have to be scared to touch me, you know?" You inform him after a while, pulling away from his lips (much to Laios' displeasure, he's learned he quite likes kissing), to gently guide his hands to your hips. "Just like that," You say, "Or you could move them high," You move his hands to your waist, "or even lower, if you want," You place his hands on your thighs. You lean in close, "Or you can always do this," Guiding his hands to cup you breasts through your shirt, his breath hitches at the intimate position. You leave him to explore your body, his hands wandering from place to place, but always coming back to your chest.

It was endearing, watching him with such excitement. "This reminds me, griffins do the same thing- they feel up their mates before, y'know, mating."

"Oh? I didn't know that," Laios nods eagerly, his eyes never leaving the way his hands fondle your breasts. You bite back a chuckle as you say, "Want me to take my shirt off?"

Laios nearly chokes on air, sputtering out a response that sounded like a yes. When he catches his breath, he affirms his decision and you take your shirt off, tossing it to the side.

If you thought he wasn't mesmerized before, he certainly is now. His hands shake with excitement as he touches your breasts, this time without a barrier. "They're so soft," He mumbles. He glances up at you as you let out a moan, his thumb giving an experiment flick to the perky nipple. He breath catches in his throat as you let out another moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

"N- Not bad," You say, biting back another moan as Laios relentlessly plays with your chest. "Don't forget to be gentle though, or it'll hurt," Laios nods, understanding and slowing his actions.

Your own hands begin to explore him more, reaching for his belt and undoing the buckle. You lean in to kiss him as he continues to fondle your chest, your hands undoing the button of his pants. "Laios," You murmur against his lips, he hums in response. "Do you want to do... more?"

How could he possibly say no when everything felt this good? He nods, moaning a 'yes' against your lips.

You roll your hips against him, grinding down. His hands squeeze your hips, groaning into the kiss. "Feels good, real good."

"Yeah? 'm glad." You pull off his shirt, your hands running against his chest. Firm muscle under your fingertips. His cheeks grow more red, kisses growing more frenzied. "Mm, L- Laios," You pull back, admiring his flushed face and blissed glazed eyes. "Let's take these off, yeah?" He glances down at his pants, helping you pull them off of him.

Laios grows bashful at being so exposed to you, he's never been seen by someone in a situation like this. His cock twitches with just as much vigor as Laios, and when you touch it you almost think he was going to cum right then and there. A violent shudder as he falls into you, letting out a loud gasped-like moan.

"You're so pent-up," You tease once he's okay, and he looks up at you with a little pout on his face- one that screams to not tease him. "Sorry, sorry, it's cute though." You assure him, slowly running a finger up the underside of his cock and watching him ball up the bedsheets underneath him. He bites into his lip harshly.

"Look Laios," You urge, nudging him to look down and watch as you play with his cock. He sighs in bliss, looking up at your eyes.

"I want, hn, to make you feel good too- ngh!" His head falls back as you pump his cock, giving a little twist that makes his stomach do flips.

"In due time," You promise, "Let's focus on you right now." Although he wants to protest, he can't find a good enough reason to. Instead he lets your hand work him up even more as he desperately searches for your lips again.

It's not long until your panties begin to grow uncomfortably sticky, and you take Laios' hands, guiding him how to jerk himself off before you shimmy off your pants and panties, exposing yourself to the cold air and him. His hand speeds up at the sight.

"Slow down," You remind him and although he wants to speed up, he listens and slows down.

"Can I touch you now?" He asks, and you nod. His hands, hesitantly, reach for your pussy and he swallows thickly at how wet you are. Was this because of him? "B- Basilisks self lubricate like this too." He nervously spits out a monster fact.

"Is that so?" Laios runs his fingers awkwardly through your slick a few more times before you decide to help him.

"Listen Laios, if you're going to please someone like me, this is really important, okay?" He nods, listening intently. You help him find your clit, showing him how to rub tight little circles into the sensitive bud. "This here- oh fuck," You curse, trying to focus but Laios is now rubbing circles against your clit and it's mind-numbing how good he is at it for a virgin.

"You feel good?" He asks, and you nod, hand wrapping around his bicep as you let out sounds of pleasure that fill Laios with hunger for more.

"So good, a-are you sure you've never done this before?"

"Mmhm," He nods, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your left breast, "You're the only one."

Ah shit, that went straight to your core. You groan, and despite the nice sensation you need to keep your mind on teaching him properly. You show him how to finger you open, and when he feels bold enough he slips in another finger. "Just like that," Your back arches, your chest pressing against his. "D- Damn it, if you keep this up you'll be a pro in no time."

Your praise makes him feel fuzzy, and he desperately wants more. He picks up his pace, grunting as he neglects his cock to explore your body with all he's got. His hand snaking around your neck and pulling you in to a sloppy kiss. Your knees buckle and you cum around his fingers, panting heavily against his lips.

"Laios," You pull away with a little whimper, "You ready?" You ask, looking down at his dick. He blinks several times before registering your words.

"I'm ready," He breathes, and you nod, showing him how to line up his cock with your hole. You help him, slowly sinking down on to him. The stretch burns, and you take it slow for both of your sakes.

"You doing okay?" You check in on him after you've managed to take all of him. He is breathing deeply, a bruising grip on your hips.

"Mm, I'm okay- are you?" You press a sweet kiss to his lips.

"I'm okay," You let out a shaky exhale. "I'm gonna start moving."

With that you do move. Laios watches in awe for a few seconds, before his hands fall between your thighs. "Is this okay?" It was more than okay. He finds your clit, playing with it as you try to ride him, although your legs are getting shaky and you're not sure how much longer you can keep this up.

"Hmm- let me help you," Laios says as he notices your thighs shaking. You try to say something, but Laios' hands find your hips and he lifts you up before slamming you back down. Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head.

Your walls squelch and clench around him, and his breathing grows more ragged. Laios finds this position no longer helpful, and he, with your permission, lifts you up so he can lay you down on the bed before continuing.

"I feel a little funny," Laios slurs, his thrusts growing more and more sloppy with each one, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in close as you moan. Your warm, gummy walls suck him in deeper and deeper and he isn't sure he can last much longer. "I think I'm gonna..."

"Go ahead," You whine, "M- Me too."

Like a feral animal, Laios sets a surprisingly fast pace, fucking into you as if this wasn't his first time. Finally that hot feeling Laios felt spreads throughout his body and with a loud cry of pleasure he cums. He keeps going until you've cum a second time, before he slumps against you, not pulling out.

"Ha, I- I didn't realize it'd feel so... nice." He whispers, and you groan, lightly hitting his shoulder.

"Get off of me, you're heavy," He murmurs an apology, pulling out and rolling off of you. "Well, I'm glad you felt good."

"Can we... do this again?" You blink in surprise at his words, before giggling, nodding.

"Of course, I've still got a lot to teach you, after all." He sits up, looking down at you fondly.

"I'm looking forward to it. Thank you!" He smiles, and you hope he doesn't hear how your heart skips a beat. He really is too cute for his own good sometimes.

꒰ ❀ ꒱ thank you for reading. have a wonderful day, darling!

#dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi headcanons #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon headcanons #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #x reader #imagines #laios x reader #laios smut #dungeon meshi smut #dungeon desires

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6ix9inewiturmom · 1 day

Text

The Scare- Chris Sturniolo

Summary: you end up having one of the biggest pregnancy scares of your life while chris is in boston

Warnings: Cursing, Crying, use of Y/N, talks of sex, taking a pregnancy test

A/n: may be tmi but lowkey relate to this so this was easy to write LMFAOO, ENJOY

PSA: DO NOT USE MY WORK FOR “inspiration” OR ANYTHING ELSE!!

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Chris has been in Boston for the last 2 weeks, and he's finally coming home. I decided to shower and shave before he came home because that man is the most sexually active 20-year-old I've ever met, the Facetime sex at 3 am for him isn't nearly enough to satisfy both of our needs.

After my hour-long shower, I'm digging through my shared bathroom with Chris in an attempt to find my body lotion to prevent my dry ass skin in this heat when I find my box of tampons, which got me thinking I haven't had a period in a while and Chris and I aren't the safest people when it comes to sex because neither of us can even remember to put a condom on, it always fucks up my mood.

“Shit,” I say to my self.

Chris and I are only 20 and with his career there's no fucking way in HELL we can have a kid or even raise a kid, I am nowhere near ready to raise an actual child.

I open my Flo app and see the little circle that's normally red is grey ‘1 week late’

“Shit shit shit,” I say out loud again, panicking.

I can't keep it from him, he's gonna see the pregnancy test in the trash. Would he be mad if I kept it from him? Should I just tell him? Should I go to Tara?

After about 30 minutes of standing in the bathroom looking at the message in my phone, panicking about what to do, I just decided I was gonna tell Chris, he loves me, and we've talked about having kids way later in life anyway, he couldn't be mad.

I finally built up the courage and got dressed in a pair of tight ripped jeans and a baby tee, with some Converse, and sat on the couch waiting for Chris to come home going through Tiktok and whatever else was on my phone.

“BABY IM HOME” Chris yells from the stairs

I squeal in excitement as I spot Chris and run towards him. Jumping into his arms, he effortlessly lifts me, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist.

“Umm Y/N there are other people here too you know? Also, Chris get out of the fucking way so we can fucking put our shit down” Nick says in annoyance.

“Well hello to you too Nick,” I say jumping out of Chris’ arms moving out of the doorway, and letting Matt and Nick come inside the house.

“Sorry babes, we've all been up since about 6 am Boston time trying to catch our flight we almost missed because your fucking boyfriend wouldn't get the hell out of bed” Nick replies sending me a soft smile and giving me a soft hug.

“To be fair none of us went to bed at a decent time, mom was making sure we had everything packed so we didn't leave anything behind” matt defends.

“Thank you, Matt, now Y/N do you wanna take a nap? I know we were gonna go out to dinner but I'm very fucking jet lagged and kinda just want to order dinner and watch movies with you” Chris wraps his arms around my waist nuzzling his head between my neck as my hands rest on his shoulders.

“Thats fine with me i don't mind” i pull away from his embrace and smile at him.

Chris grabs his luggage and my hand and guides me to our shared bedroom. As we enter the room he seats his luggage down and plops on the bed letting out a groan of frustration.

“I have missed this damn bed, don't ask me how I slept in that bed at my mom's house for god knows how long because this one is so much more comfortable,” Chris says adjusting the way he's laying to rest his head down on the pillows. “Now after 2 weeks of no sex and just my right hand, I'm gonna need to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you” he smirks at me patting his lap and signaling me to sit on it.

“Yeah so about that” give him an awkward smile “So I didn't know how to approach this to you, 'cause you know we're not the most responsible sexually active humans” I start babbling getting nervous of his reaction based on the puzzled look on his face.

“Y/N what the hell are you getting at? cause if you don’t wanna have sex with me right now that’s fine just say that, but considering our last facetime call the constant ‘oh chris i need your cock’ was really misleading to me” he says with a puzzled faced.

“Chris i’m late” i breathe out.

“late for what? did we have reservations for dinner? did you have something for work?” he says with frustration in his voice.

“No Chris my period, I'm late, my period is LATE, I'm 1 week late today,” I say aggressively from his lack of acknowledgement.

“wait we haven’t had sex in 2 weeks? i’m confused” he sits up moving to the edge of the bed.

“last time we had sex i was ovulating, remember when i told you like a while ago that if im ovulating means im FERTILE?” i say in frustration.

“Fuck” he runs his fingers through his hair “Did you take a test? Do you know for sure that you are pregnant?” he questions

“No, and no, I didn't wanna take a test without you, and I for SURE didn't wanna hide it from you,” I say softly sitting next to him on the bed.

“So why the hell are you freaking out now? You don't know for sure that you are” he asks placing his head in his hands.

“Because you and I are nowhere near ready for a fucking kid Chris, your career, and my inability to even fucking care for myself some days, yeah there's no fucking way I can care for a child who can't even speak on its emotions, Chris” I stand up out of frustration and start pacing.

I can tell Chris obviously got upset with my statement about our ability to care for a child but i was stressed and honestly wasn't thinking.

"I want you to know that I care about you deeply, Y/N. If you are indeed pregnant, please know that I will do everything in my power to support you and our child. Even if it means giving up my career, I will do it willingly. Let's go get a pregnancy test and we can talk about everything else later, okay? I am here for you, and I will always be." he says, his voice filled with empathy and understanding as he gently cups my cheeks in his hands, rubbing them softly up and down and warm smile spreads across his face.

As our eyes meet, a warm smile spreads across his face and I can't help but return it. He takes my hand in his and gently guides me towards the living room, his grip firm yet gentle. The coolness of his skin against mine sends shivers down my spine.

“Girl, were you guys arguing? Normally after we come home from Boston it's all ‘Oh Chris more, more’ typically a traumatic event” Nick says mocking me with a smile plastered across his face.

“Y/N and I are running to CVS so well be back in a little,” Chris says walking him and me down the stairs and to my car.

The drive to CVS was filled with a bunch of conversations and laughter, talking about if I was pregnant how we would raise our child, and Chris talking about the dad jokes he's gonna have, and considering he's a triplet he carries the genetic that I'm probably gonna twins or triplets.

“How many of these things do we need? What brand is best? why are there so many options?” Chris says holding 3 boxes of pregnancy tests and struggling to figure out which one to pick “fuck it why don't we buy all of them and use one pack tonight then we'll have the extra on hand in case our irresponsibility gets the best of us” he continues.

Chris and I walked up to the front counter and dropped the boxes of tests. The worker behind the counter took a look at the tests and then looked back at us, giving us a fake smile. After ringing up the purchase, we made our way to my car.

“So do you think you are pregnant?” Chris says breaking the silence.

“I mean normally my cycles are normal and a week late is not normal at all but it could be my hormones changing or something, but I do wanna make sure,” I say glancing at Chris nervously biting his nails.

“You were right about how irresponsible we are with our sex lives but when we first started fucking we knew the risk of everything and I mean our kids would be pretty cute,” he says placing his hand on my leg and rubbing a small circle with his thumb.

Chris and I pulled up into the driveway. As we got out of the car, he held my hand tightly and carried the CVS bag in the other hand as we made our way into the house and up the staircase.

“did you get any snacks?” Nick says eating a bowl of popcorn on the couch with Matt watching the most random movie on Netflix.

“Uhm no I just got a couple of personal things” I say nervously holding up the bag and sending a warm smile to Nick.

Chris and I pretty much B lined to the bathroom, anxiously “So which one do we use?” Chris says looking down at the boxes.

“Just give me the one that says Clearblue” i say softly laughing as Chris opens the box for me and inspects it before handing me the little stick.

“Do you want me to hold the stick while you piss? I'm sorry I have no idea how these things work” he says laughing allowing his back to slide down the wall and sit with his back against the shower door.

“Chris it's fine i know how to use these, believe me my friends in highschool weren't the most responsible either” I say laughing beginning to pee on the little white and blue stick.

“So how long do we wait?” Chris says helping me take a seat on the floor next to him.

“5 minutes” I breathe out setting a 5-minute timer on my phone and leaning my head against the shower door.

As we sat in the bathroom, waiting for the pregnancy test to show its result, the silence felt palpable. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather a deafening one that seemed to fill the entire room. With just the two of us present, we anxiously waited for the five minutes to pass.

“Would it be a bad thing if I wanted it to be positive?” Chris chuckles.

“I wouldn't necessarily say a bad thing, there's a part of me that kind of wants it to be positive too” i smile back at Chris.

The alarm on my phone quickly broke the once-loving moment sending us into a panic. Chris and I stand up walking to the counter.

“Wait should we film it in case you are then we could always have it if you could be pregnant?” Chris’ gaze softens as he looks at me.

“Chris not the time” I softly laugh out.

“Right,” he nods smiling back at me. “WAIT” he grabs my hand “Whatever happens, I love you,” he says in a serious tone.

With a warm smile, I gaze lovingly at him and reciprocate his affectionate words, "I love you too Christopher." However, my attention is quickly drawn towards the counter where the pregnancy test lays face down, taunting my nerves. With trembling hands, I muster up the courage to pick it up and slowly turn it around to face me, my heart pounding in anticipation of the result.

‘Not Pregnant’

“YES, MORE CREAMPIES” Chris shrieks wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up, and spinning me around as I giggle out of excitement.

He carefully seats me down back flat on my feet. Our moment was quickly interrupted by both Nick and Matt barging through the door.

“ARE YOU GUYS- wait is that a pregnancy test? Y/N ARE YOU PREGNANT?” Nick yelled as Matt's eyes widened at the little blue stick in my hands.

“Please for the love of god, I don't want a little Chris running around, or two, or even three” Matt places his hand on his forehead.

“No she is not” Chris chuckles at the boys’ comment.

“THANK YOU,” matt and nick say in unison.

“Wrap it before you tap it next time Chris,” Nick says walking away and back to the living room.

“Now I'll say it again, after 2 weeks of Facetime sex I would like to absolutely fuck your brains out” Chris says smirking down at me.

“Please do” I smile as he picks me up gripping the backs of my thighs as my legs wrap around his waist leading me to the bedroom.

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A/N pt 2: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THISSSSSS AND TYSM TO @cosmicmistake42069 FOR THIS INSPIRATION!!

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo

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yandere-romanticaa · 2 days

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I've had a very fun and fruitful conversation with @allfearstofallto and she had some very strong reactions for a story about yandere Diluc and Tartaglia that has been marinating in my mind for a while now. I'll just give you a brief version of my idea.

You and the 11th Fatui Harbinger are to be wed. With your freedom stripped away from you and with your wedding date fast approaching, you are working tirelessly to escape the Harbinger's grasp.

However, even with your freedom stripped away, even if you have no autonomy on your own, there's an inkling in your heart in which you cannot hate your captor. He is far too kind and gentle towards you, the way in which he treats you makes your heart swell with a plethora of emotions.

But enough is enough.

You need to leave. Fast.

One evening, you act sweeter, more submissive than usual. Your fiancee eats it up and is delighted by this change in attitude. His happiness is evident because now things can proceed without a hitch. Don't worry darling, you won't be anywhere near his work. He'll keep you safe, fed and loved.

All he asks in return is to be in your heart. Love him. Love him, please. It's a hard request, a selfish one even, he knows this.

He can make it up to you. He can and he will.

He promises.

You kiss him in bed, telling him that you understand. Your eyes shift towards the hidden suitcase in the corner as you feel the drugs start to kick in. Tartaglia is fast asleep, and you finally taste the sweetness of freedom.

The man wakes up the next morning in a daze. The bed is empty and cold.

His heart shatters into a million pieces. He roars out your name like a wounded animal, his throat sore and bleeding from the pain.

He must find you.

Meanwhile, you made your way towards the City of Freedom.

You settle in, find a job, a place to live in. It's hard but you manage.

You ignore the lingering presence that you feel behind you when you're alone at night. You're making it all up, you keep telling yourself.

No one is following you.

One evening, you enter a cozy tavern. You order a drink and it is prepared by a handsome, albeit stoic bartender. You manage to get him to open up. He introduces himself as Diluc, the owner of the fine establishment in which you sat in.

How neat.

Due to various different factors, after a short while Diluc takes you in. He is patient and strict. It's an improvement.

You don't know about his ever growing obsession with you. You don't know about the endless sea of portraits he has of you. He keeps it all hidden well under wraps.

Regardless, Diluc is still only human. It's only natural that his jealousy would bubble up and rear in its ugly head from time to time.

Dawn Winery is in a way, forced to attend a massive social gathering. Diplomats from the North are everywhere and, of course, Tartaglia spots you in the crowd.

Even if his eyes were to be plucked out, he would always manage to recognize you.

Tensions rise and the danger of bloodlust reeks in the air. Much to his chagrin, Childe cannot simply just kill Diluc and be done with it.

He is being forced to play Mr Nice Diplomat.

Oh the horror, being stuck between these two.

Now, since this has the potential to be long as fuck, I was thinking of making it into a multiple part story. The best name I could come up with it so far was "A Song of Ice and Fire". I'm open to title names, if someone has better ideas. An important note to add would be that this would be a serious commitment for me as I haven't done a story like this in years. Chapter updates would probably take me a long time due to my job and potential lack of energy, but this idea has been in my brain for years now, which is a clear sign that I'm passionate about it. And, my question is - would you like for me to make this story come to life?

#yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere diluc #genshin impact #♥️ girlie says

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aperrywilliams · 2 days

Text

It Was Horrible Until It Wasn't (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader comes up to her apartment after Spencer walks her home from the diner, where they spend the last couple of hours. She is still processing the night and wonders if they will meet again. Another fortuitous event makes that happen. In which terms they will part ways again?

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Mention of guns (tests to carry a gun). Mention to Reader's ex. Some strong words? IDK what else. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: I got very excited after your reactions and comments to "If Anything, I Find it Educative." So this is kind of part two, from Reader's perspective. I'm not convinced about a series yet, even if I have some ideas. What would you like to see if it happens?

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Reader's POV

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As I open the door, a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered on the floor greets me. That reminds me that I haven't unpacked all my things yet.

I've only been living here for two weeks, and I'm still getting used to the idea that this is my new home.

It doesn't feel like it yet.

But the boxes will be a problem for tomorrow. Now, I only want to take off these high heels and this fancy dress and call it a night - a pretty eventful night.

Not only did I have to confront my ex with his new girlfriend, but I also had to pretend I was okay with it. But how did I expect to do that? Did I genuinely think two months would be enough to be outside again to prove I got myself up?

How naive of me.

I make a beeline to my bedroom, not even bothering to look at the rest of the apartment.

Again, it's tomorrow's problem.

Retreating my phone from my purse, I plug it to charge over my bedside table as I strip from my clothes and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine.

The entire time, my mind doesn't stop wandering. At some point, it settles on the girl I helped from choking. It was a total coincidence for me to be there. I only approached the bar for another drink when I heard that man rambling. I don't know why my ear perked up, but it did. When I look to find the voice's source, my eyes land on the man and the girl by his side.

He was talking as if the world would end if he didn't, and the girl only eyed him from head to toe, clearly not giving a damn what he was saying. I kept subtly listening to them while sipping my drink. The guy's voice had something enchanting. I would have heard him talk for hours if it were from me. It was a bad thing his interlocutor wasn't so receptive, and when she occasionally said something, it was a flirting remark that only made him uncomfortable.

What a shame.

When I noticed her fighting to breathe, swatting her hands in desperation, and the poor guy froze on the spot, I knew I needed to do something.

I didn't think much of it and wrapped my arms around her torso to help her. It worked. The oyster she choked with flew into the air, and she could breathe again.

But the next thing I knew, her palm connected to the man's cheek.

The poor guy seemed so confused, and the people talking around didn't help either. What a shitty situation. And as the good citizen I am, I tried to do something about it, only to get lashed out by the same woman I just saved from choking.

Fuck it.

Seeing the people's attention returned to them, I walked away. That wasn't my fight in the first place.

Returning from the bathroom, I hear my phone ding. It's a text from my friend Andie.

Andie: How did the gala turn out? Did you see him? He was with her, right?

Andie had insisted on me not going to the gala, although I repeated to her several times that it was okay, that nothing would happen, and that I couldn't hide forever.

Me: You were right. I wasn't ready.

It's a defeat I must recognize. I wasn't prepared to see them.

Andie: My girl, I'm so sorry. It must have been awful for you.

It was, but it doesn't mean the night was a disaster.

Me: It was horrible until it wasn't. I can tell you more tomorrow. Now, I only want to go to bed.

Andie: You have me a bit confused here, but okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight; I love you.

I return my phone to the charger and slip under the covers.

It was horrible until it wasn't.

I keep thinking about that. And a smile tugs the corner of my lips. Since Spencer - the guy who got slapped by the oyster-choked girl - approached me at the terrace, the night wasn't that awful anymore.

Who would have thought I would end my night in a diner, dressed to the nines and spouting details of my messy life to a stranger?

Monday morning comes faster than I wanted.

I spent my Sunday mostly unpacking boxes and tidying my apartment, and now, with a coffee in hand, I cross the hall to my office on the third floor of the FBI building in Quantico.

Some colleagues greet me as I pass by. I return them with a polite smile. I saw a couple of them at the gala on Saturday. I only hope they didn't notice the wreck I was that night.

On my desk, a pile of hundreds of manila folders are waiting for me.

This Monday will be a blast.

Dutifully, I reach for the first folder to start my work, as my ear perks up to two colleagues' conversation about the gala.

"Did you see them? Those hot chicks from Counterterrorism?" a male colleague says to another.

"Yeah. I heard one of them was hitting on Reid from the BAU. What a waste!" The other adds.

"And the lucky bastard wasn't able to take her home. His nerdy charm didn't even help him with that."

The mention of the BAU brings Spencer to my mind again. And I realize I don't even know his last name.

I don't think I need to know, but I can't stop my fingers from typing 'Spencer FBI BAU' on my computer.

My findings make the conversation between my colleagues intriguing. They were precisely talking about Spencer, Spencer Reid, and the girl with him at the gala. Clearly, the incident did not go unnoticed.

I don't like the tone they refer to him, either. I do not know the guy well, but I'm sure he's way better than any of the men at the venue that night.

Are you hearing yourself (Y/N)? That kind of blind trust put you in this situation with your ex in the first place.

I shouldn't grant credibility so fast, but honestly? Spencer seems to be everything but a threat. The things he said, the way he spoke. Anyway, I should stop thinking about that if I want to finish some work. Yeah, that's what I need to do.

Drowning out the noise, I return to the opened folder and continue working.

Some would ask how a task as monotonous as the one I'm doing now could be appealing to someone. The appeal for me comes from how everything fits in the right places and serves a purpose. That's enough for me, even if some people don't understand it.

My ex didn't. And as him, many others.

I'm still fighting to ease the effects their judgments had on me.

Around lunchtime, stopping the papers review, I pick up my phone to check my messages. Yesterday, I promised Andie I would have lunch with her today, so I'm checking for her confirmation and a place to meet.

Just in time, a text comes. She is free right now and suggests a restaurant just outside the building.

"Hey, girl! I'm glad you made it," she greets me as I spot her on one of the tables.

"Of course. I promised I would."

Lunchtime is only one hour, so we order quickly and go straight to the matter.

"I can't believe the son of the bitch decided to go and show off his new conquest," Andie huffs.

"Not that new, considering she has been sleeping with him in what used to be my bed at least a month before I discovered it," I correct with an annoyed look.

It's good to say these things without crying my eyes out anymore.

I tell Andie more details about how it went to share a space packed with mutuals around us and try to stay composed.

"But at some point, I just couldn't. So I retracted to the bar. I only wanted to grab a drink and be alone."

Andie nods in understanding.

"I don't blame you. So you were at the bar when you crossed to the girl to whom you did Heimlich?"

Yesterday, by phone, I told Andie the main facts regarding that, and after laughing for a solid five minutes about the whole ordeal, she made me promise to reveal more details in our lunch meeting.

That's why I'm describing what happened piece by piece.

"She slapped the guy? And she yelled at you? What a bitch! But I don't understand why he apologized on her behalf."

"Honestly? I didn't understand it, but it made sense after talking with him. The guy felt responsible, even if it wasn't related to him. It was the fact that someone had to do the right thing," I explain, with my eyes fixed on my water glass, recalling Spencer's words from that night.

I can't help but feel some fondness for his genuine worry. Andie raises an eyebrow and hums.

"The guy made a good impression on you, I see."

Andie's tone is teasing, and I know exactly where she is heading.

"Come on, don't start with that," I warn her. I'm not thoroughly annoyed, but I'm not in the mood for teasing. Andie scoffs.

"I'm just saying it's good to know there are men out there that give hopes up. That's all!"

"Sure," I mumble, not very convinced by her explanation.

The rest of our lunch follows a similar tone. When I finish telling Andie about Spencer walking me home, I know she is biting her tongue to say something to taunt me, but she holds back and opts for a question.

"Do you think you'll see him again?"

I ponder my answer. I don't know, although I remember Spencer asking, 'See you around?'

That doesn't mean we agreed to see each other again, even if I said, 'Sure, why not?'

Did Spencer mean that? Did he want to see me again?

"I don't know. Maybe. We both work in this building, so there are chances, I guess," I shrug. Andie narrows her eyes.

"But do you want to?"

That's a question I don't know how to answer, so I take some seconds to think about it.

"Let's say I'm not opposed to the idea."

A reply that could be an understatement. But not I'm telling Andie that.

She doesn't press on the matter, though. And I'm grateful she doesn't.

Now it's time to go back to work. We walk out of the restaurant to our building and separate ways at the elevator. Andie continues to the eighth floor when I hop off on the third.

Returning to my desk, I continue checking the folders piled on my desk, and my mind only focuses on that, knowing if I don't, there is no chance of getting this stack finished.

----

A good thing about the week progressing is nobody talking anymore about the damn gala. It's been a nightmare since Monday when everyone had to mention something about it. That included comments about me facing my ex there.

Of course, it was public knowledge I was dating an agent of the Criminal Investigative Division. Also, it became public knowledge he cheated on me with his current girlfriend from Counterterrorism.

But finally, it is Thursday, and everything seems to have returned to normal, so much so that the amount of work has increased exponentially. That's why I'm still at the office at seven pm.

I only assume it's time to go home when my boss pokes out of his office and calls for Andrew, one of our coworkers who distributes files and memos to the other departments.

I turn around, and it's only me at this hour. My boss notices the vacant office and is now talking to me.

"I guess I have to ask you to do this. Can you go to the sixth and drop this to Aaron Hotchner's office? I would have waited until tomorrow for Andrew, but this must be at his desk today."

I don't think I have a choice, so I pick the folder, promising to drop it before going home.

With my coat and purse, I grab the folder and stroll to the elevator.

I have been working here for four years and know every financial detail of each Quantico department, but I still need to recognize all department locations in this facility. So, floors are just floors, except the eight where Andie works.

Arriving at my destination, I walk into a bullpen, where I can see a lot of desks and offices. And just like my floor, it is almost empty. Anyway, I see one of the offices with lights on. My instinct tells me that's the place I'm looking for, and the plaque at the door confirms my suspicions: SSA Aaron Hotchner.

"Come in," a voice comes from the office when I knock.

Peeking inside, a stern-looking man is glancing in my direction. "Can I help you?" he asks with a slight frown.

"Yes, sir. I'm with the Finance Division, and my boss asked me to bring this to you," I explain as I reach out to hand him the folder. When he grabs it, realization washes over the man.

"Of course. Thank you very much-" Agent Hotchner trails off.

"(Y/L/N)," I supply, knowing he wants my last name.

"Thank you very much, Agent (Y/L/N)."

Weird.

Everyone in the finance and administrative department refers to each other only by last name. We use the 'agent' thing mainly with those who do the fieldwork, and we are used to that.

"You're welcome, Agent Hotchner," I smile politely, ready to leave the man's office. He nods approvingly.

"Hotch, sorry for interrupting you, but I'm ready with my report. I thought you wanted it-"

A man talks, entering abruptly at the office. He stops in his tracks when he sees Agent Hotchner isn't alone.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were with someone. I can come back later," he apologizes.

Wait. I know that voice.

I turn, and I see Spencer standing there. His eyes meet mine, and I feel my cheeks burn. He doesn't say anything but doesn't tear his eyes from mine.

I don't know how many seconds pass, but it's enough for Agent Hotchner to intervene.

"Reid?" he calls Spencer's attention.

"Uh?"

"The report. It's okay; you can give it to me," he tells Spencer, not without subtly bouncing his gaze between us.

"Oh. Okay." Spencer approaches Hotchner's desk, but he still directs glances at me. I want to say hi to him properly, but it doesn't feel okay knowing the man in front of us is undoubtedly his boss. I don't want him to feel uncomfortable. So, I take that as my cue to leave.

"If you excuse me," I tell Agent Hotchner, signaling my departure. Spencer looks at me, and I give him a subtle smile.

"Of course. Thank you again, Agent (Y/L/N)."

"To you, sir. Have a good evening."

I walk down the stairs to the open bullpen and toward the elevator.

Before I can push the go-down button, a voice calls my name. It's Spencer's.

"(Y/N), wait!"

I turn and see him trotting towards me.

"Hi!" he says once we are face to face.

Now I feel bad. Spencer comes here to say hi, and I didn't greet him properly just two minutes ago.

"Spencer, hi. I'm sorry, I should have said something there, but I didn't know if you wanted him to know- I mean, I supposed he was your boss, and I-"

What's wrong with me?

Why can't I explain myself without stumbling with my words?

"No. No. Don't apologize. It's okay. I should have told you something, too. But I didn't expect to see you here."

"Me neither. My boss sent me here instead of one of my coworkers, who left early. I didn't know this was the BAU floor. What a coincidence, uh?" I play cool, shifting my weight from one foot to another. Spencer nods in agreement.

"Totally. It's good to see you, though. I hoped we could cross paths again."

Isn't it weird that his words have produced a funny tingle in my stomach right now?

"Is that so?" I half-breath, noticing his cheeks turn a shade of pink.

"Yes. I mean, I truly enjoyed talking to you that night," he sheepishly admits.

I more than enjoyed it, Spencer.

"Yeah, me too."

Silence sets between us. And it's time to make a decision. I could say I go home and leave him with a lukewarm 'See you around,' or say I'm leaving, but before doing so, give Spencer my number so we can talk soon. Or...

"Are you busy right now? I'm heading home now, but if you can and want, we can go for a coffee."

Wow (Y/N). Very smooth. I like you smooth.

Spencer's eyes widened, and I wondered for a second if my offer was too straightforward.

"If you have plans, it's okay. We don't have to," I relent.

"Oh, no. I don't. And I would love to go for a coffee with you," Spencer hastens to say. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Yeah?"

"Sure! If you wait for me just a second, I'll pick my things from my desk, and we can go."

----

This time, it's my turn to pick the place.

It's a small coffee shop in the middle of Virginia, just mid-way between Quantico and my apartment.

As we get on the train, I ask Spencer about Agent Hotchner.

"Hotch? Well, he has been at the unit for twelve years now. Gideon, a former agent, told me once he didn't expect Hotch to last long in the BAU. But he proved him wrong. Indeed, Gideon left, and Hotch stayed. Honestly, I can't picture the BAU with another unit chief."

There is a fondness when Spencer talks about Hotchner. I can tell he sees him more than as a superior.

"What about yours?"

Now is my turn to talk about my boss.

"Agent Williams? He is a bureaucrat from head to toe. He had just transferred from another administrative department when I joined the financial division four years ago. At that time, he had ten years working with the FBI. The guy is a genius but lacks social skills. I'm not judging him; I'm a bit like him. But in his position, he needs to make politics, which involves talking and convincing people."

The conversation with Spencer flows so well and easily that I'm as impressed as I was the night of the gala.

When we reach the coffee shop, we sit facing each other. After ordering our coffee, we start talking about our coworkers.

"So Garcia is our technical analyst. I have to say she is like the team's heart. Besides her outstanding skills, her compassion and care are something out of this world," Spencer admits, and again, I feel the fondness in his voice.

"She seems very special," I add. Spencer nods.

"Very. I don't know what it's like to have a sister, but if I had one, I would have liked someone like her.

So he doesn't have a sister. Does he have brothers, though? We have yet to talk about our families, so this is the first piece of information I get about it.

"What about the guy who came to check what was happening with your girl at the gala?" I ask, and Spencer scoff.

"First of all, Ashley isn't my girl. I think she made it pretty clear that night. And secondly, the guy in question is Morgan, the culprit of why I was with Ashley in the first place."

That's interesting. I want to know more about that.

"How is that?" I ask, sipping my coffee.

Spencer tells me how Morgan insisted they talk to the girls - Ashley and her friends - and how he reluctantly followed him.

I'm about to make a not-so-kind remark when Spencer gets ahead of me.

"I know it may seem like he is a thoughtless person, but he truly means well. I can't entirely agree with his tactics most of the time, but he's right when he tells me I should enjoy more and work less."

"It's safe to say you weren't 'enjoying' that much there," I quip, air-quoting the word 'enjoying.' Spencer chuckles.

"Yeah. Honestly? I have more fun when Morgan kicks doors down in our field chases than when he tries to play wingman for me."

What? Kick doors down?

"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the FBI had to spend thousands of dollars in repairs for third parties last year because of him?"

I know I'm being dramatic. It's impossible that just one agent destroyed that amount of dollars by kicking doors. But still.

Spencer's eyes widen.

"What? No! I mean, yes. He does that, but thousands of dollars? Last time I checked, doors are not that expensive."

I roll my eyes. That's not the point.

"Okay. I know it's not only Agent Morgan's doing, but did you know the buro's budget had increased by 4% last year due to refunds for field operations? And did you know 70% of that increase refers to agents shattering private property?"

Now, I sound like my boss. Great. I became what I swore to destroy.

Spencer looks at me with amusement. I narrow my eyes to him. "What?"

He clears his throat. "Oh. No, nothing. It's just - well, it's fascinating to hear you talking about - uh - numbers."

I can't help but snort. "Come on, how fascinating that can be?"

Spencer grins. "If anything, I find it educative," he parrots my words from that night, and we fall into a fit of laughs.

"Yeah?" I muse after the laughter subsides. Spencer nods, still a smile gracing his face.

Gosh, that smile.

"Well, I can talk about numbers all day. But I'm sure you don't want me to 'fascinate' you that much."

Spencer hums, faking be pondering his options.

"Don't tempt me. I like to know and talk about everything. But before returning to numbers, I want to ask about your coworkers. I already talked much about mine."

Even if there is not much to say, indulging him with an answer is only fair.

"What can I say? In my area, there are three: Anthony, Leah, and me. We were four then, but Andie was promoted to the eighth floor a year ago. Anthony is a good guy, a little inexperienced, but very eager to learn. We don't have a very close relationship, but he's my protegee at work. Leah is very clever and has enough experience, but sometimes she is not present, making things a little tense between us. Andie is rightfully my friend. We got to the bureau simultaneously, and although she doesn't work with us anymore, we are very close."

Spencer is looking at me with full attention. It's odd to talk about this kind of thing with someone. I don't like to talk about my bonds in general. It makes me feel vulnerable. But for a reason that I still don't get, with Spencer, it feels right.

It's night already, and we are in our third coffee.

"Do you usually drink this amount of coffee daily at this hour? I try to cut off my dosis after lunch, but sometimes I just can't," I point as I stir the spoon on my coffee. Spencer hums.

"I drink a lot of it at any time of the day, every day. It's worse when we are on cases because that shitty coffee at the precincts should not even be called coffee," he scoffs, pouring half of the sugar pot into his cup.

I have already noticed the amount of sugar Spencer has used in his two previous coffees; this third is not the exception.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," I say as my eyes dart to his sweet liquid. He follows my line of sight and chuckles.

"I love coffee, but I don't like its bitterness. I know it doesn't make sense, but for me it does."

"Fair enough."

After that, our conversation stumbles to lousy sleep habits.

"Ray hated it. Even once, he told me I purposely got up in the middle of the night to annoy him."

Spencer's brow furrows.

"Ray is your ex?"

Shit. I don't realize I'm talking about him.

Why do I have to mention him? I hate how ingrained he is still in my life.

"Yeah, Raymond. No wonder why things didn't work out between us," I try to joke because I don't want to cry about it anymore.

"An example of a man," Spencer follows my lead, and I'm grateful he doesn't look at me like people usually do when I talk about it. There is no pity. There is no that look saying, 'Oh, poor girl who got cheated on.' It's like a whole understanding. It doesn't make me feel like a failure. And that's a change—a good one.

I chuckle. "Hell, he is."

It's getting late, and it's time to part ways, even if I don't want it. Hours pass quickly with such good company.

"We should get going. It's late," I point as I glance at my phone. Spencer nods in acknowledgment, signaling the waitress to get the check. He is about to fish his wallet when I stop him.

"No. Don't do that. I invited you."

Spencer scoffs, opening his wallet nonetheless.

"No way. You invited me the other night. You can do it next time."

Next time, uh? I want to say something teasing, but the waitress returns with our check.

We are outside the coffee shop now. I adjust my coat as Spencer does the same with his suit jacket. The night is chilly, and the contrast with the warmth of the coffee shop is evident.

"Can I walk you home?" He offers. I have my doubts about that. It's not that I don't like the idea; I just don't want to use more of his time.

"You don't have to. Really," I shake my head.

"Please? You already said it. It's pretty late," he insists, looking at me with dog puppy eyes.

Why is he doing that? He is testing my resolve.

"You know I can take care of myself, right? I'm a certificated FBI agent. I can't carry a gun, but sure I could manage," I argue in a teasing tone. Spencer chuckles.

"I know you are. And I'm sure you could. Even though, why no to prolong our evening for fifteen minutes long?" I raise an eyebrow.

"So you really like my company, uh?"

I'm sure I see a blush creeping his cheeks, and it's endearing.

"I like your company. I thought I made it pretty clear the other night?" he probes. And I don't know how to respond to that.

The truth is quite curious. Teasing Spencer seems so natural sometimes, but now I don't know what to say.

I decide not to say anything and nod, motioning for us to start walking.

Spencer follows me, and we walk in silence for the first block. Then, I feel the need to continue our conversation. I want these fifteen minutes to be as good as the previous two hours.

"Did you know that I used to carry a gun? Although it took me three failed tests to do so."

Spencer looks at me, surprised. I take that as my cue to tell that story.

Once I tell him how I finally managed to pass my shooting test, he starts telling me how he also failed his test a couple of times.

"So you saved your boss life shooting an unsub?" Spencer nods.

"But I really aimed to his leg, not his head," he adds, and we burst into a fit of laughter.

Without realizing it, we are already in front of my building. The laughter subsides when we notice where we are.

I clear my throat. "Well. Uh-thank you. Again," I say, referring to him walking me home.

"No need," Spencer says. "I had a good time today," he adds, smiling.

I can't help but feel my cheeks burn. Spencer casts his eyes to the ground.

"Me too," I admit, biting my bottom lip. "I - uh."

Why am I so nervous right now? Just say what you want to say!

"I - uh. I'd really like to do this again. I mean, you know, maybe next time could be something planned?"

Spencer's eyes flick to mine. I would say he didn't expect me to say that.

"I would love that," he says, keeping eye contact. And for a moment, I think the breath leaves my lungs. Those eyes are something I didn't see in my life before. I can't describe it, but it's enough to make me speechless.

"I guess it's here when I ask for your number?" Spencer's voice is the one that brings me out of the trance.

I chuckle, mid-embarrassed by my absorption moment. I gesture for him to give me the phone. Spencer does it, and I advert his piercing gaze to focus on typing my number. Once done, I return the device with a playful smile. Jeez, I feel like a damn teenager.

A snort leaves Spencer's lips when he sees the name I used for my contact.

"Really?" He asks. I nod, chuckling.

"It's safe to say you won't forget who I am," I confirm.

"Bet I won't."

"Good. Now I'm going to come up," I gesture to the building. "Good night, Spencer."

"Good night, (Y/N)."

I turn to enter the building, and although I can't see him, I feel him standing there in the cold night until I disappear into the elevator.

Once I cross the threshold of my apartment, a ding comes from my phone. Frowning, I pick it up.

Unknown number: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. SR.

I bit my lower lip. And after typing a reply, I start my night routine before bed.

Oh, boy. What are you getting into (Y/N)?

Whatever it is, it feels so good.

-------------

A/N 2: As always, I'm excited to know your thoughts about this one!

-------------

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #aperrywilliams #amanda perry williams

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tojisun · 7 hours

Note

Angsty thot on the the ghost x reader x soap blurb;

I've been thinking about the what if Soap did actually reciprocate Ghost's advances? For a moment, he forgets reader. Finally, FINALLY, Soap thinks... until the bliss dies down and he remembers reader and guilt sets in. Ghost's only all too happy to show off to reader. Being affectionate with Johhny, leaving whatever marks were left visible, staking a claim that he won.

Reader, of course, is dismayed and feels betrayed. But how much can she really feel? It fucking sucks, it does, that Ghost doesn't care what she thinks or feels and she wasn't in a committed relationship with Soap. So if they were to pursue a relationship, what can she really do about it?

HOW I AM AFTER READING THIS anon i wanna crawl into your mind and poke around your brain because how could you (ext)

johnny knows he hasn’t been honest with himself lately. that, in the face of ghost’s desires—because nothing less could describe the fire in his lieutenant’s eyes; it’s all so heated and leashed. hungry. aching—he denies himself and pretends he cannot see what is crystal clear.

he pretends that every brushing touch was an accident, that every heavy look was a trick of the light. that the way simon calls his name—johnny, with the ‘y’ dripping from his mouth like honey—was all circumstantial.

friendly. platonic, truly.

but it’s becoming more frequent. more passionate. more territorial.

of course, it was all a matter of when, really, was johnny going to fall. and the answer, apparently, is right now.

his shirt is torn off his body, fatigues falling beside two pairs of boots. warm lips, fever-hot, are on his skin, tracing scalding trails that has him trembling. he feels jittery, bones rattling within his flesh. he feels untethered, floaty. nirvana pinched between his fingers.

then, he falls, body thudding against the mattress. the metal of his bed posts creaks, a gunshot in the silence, and johnny freezes. his mind catching up to his heart.

this isn’t—

simon towers over him, his scarred chest heaving in his ragged breaths. the mask is off, discarded to the floor, and johnny, he—

well.

he sees the man that his soul sings to—cheeks flushed, bright cherries, and eyes dark with yearning. simon looks at him like johnny’s all that matters in the world; like all that he’s fighting to live for is johnny.

johnny feels this bloating in the back of his throat, something in his heart swelling until all he tastes is his breaths. his lips wobble, teeth chattering. they stop at ghost’s tender touch, his callused hand cupping johnny’s cheek.

simon's thumb swipes at the skin just underneath his eyes. his lips, crooked, tug up in a smile. “y’r much too gorgeous, johnny.”

johnny doesn’t know what happened next, only that he was stuffed with a burn that scorches from within and engulfed whole; devoured every way possible until simon's marks—from teeth and just his overall brute strength—took. his throat aches, scratchy, and his skin throbs with the memory of their love-making.

he, well, he wept. he tucked his head on the crook of simon's neck, breathing him in, unable to explain the euphoria simmering in the pit of his stomach.

simon loves him. he desired him every way possible so who wouldn't—

who wouldn't lose themselves?

(johnny thinks of you and the memories blur; what had been fiery passion morphs into something ugly. into something cruel.)

there was something different in ghost's gait—that's the first thing you noticed upon walking into the mess hall. he was more relaxed, more open in a way you have never seen from him before. he even met your eyes as you walk towards their little huddled group, the first time in a while, and you are unable to look away because there was something in his gaze that you couldn't quite place.

it still spoke of danger, of a walled barrier that he firmly put between you two, but it was undiscernible.

still poised, though, for the hunt.

kyle greets you first, kind and gentle, but before you could reply to him, johnny's tugging you away. a protest builds on the tip of your tongue, ready to slip past your chapped lips, but you freeze, feet stumbling as the air is knocked out of your lungs.

"bonnie–"

"oh," you say, a whispered gasp, your eyes unable to drag from the bruises on johnny's neck. not made with unkind intensions, if the teeth mars were any indication.

briefly, you wondered if johnny's met someone else to satiate his desires. if, in your absence, he sought to snuff the burning need from someone else. you've been away for three months, after all, chasing a lead in shanghai and tracking them all the way to tianjin. it must have been too long for johnny too.

(you wonder why your heart twinges at the idea of johnny finding comfort in someone else that isn't you.)

but the thought is doused by an ice-cold realization.

"it's– you know that i–"

"oi, 'tavish," ghost's voice rings from behind you.

you tip your head back just enough to see him, to see with your eyes what must he must have done, but he's back to ignoring you again.

it seemed like now that you've noticed what it was that had him elated, ghost no longer wanted to interact with you. not a word nor a touch. not even a glance.

johnny bites his bottom lip, shoulders hunching into himself.

"i'm sor–"

"i have to go," you say, your voice even sounds foreign to your own ears. "i have to, uhm, to report."

you shuffle away from between them, your palm rising to press onto your chest as though that could truly stop the splintering of your heart. as though your heart was truly wounded and that the pressure could stop the bleeding.

but it aches. dear god, everything aches.

ANON THIS HURT ME SO BAD AND I COULDNT HELP MYSELF FROM RAMBLING IM SORRY!! god im wailing so much like i literally was bug eyed staring at ur ask bc OW??? (btw reader is gn in this ghoap x reader angst)

#anon #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x ghost #ghoap x reader #cod x reader #ask #suns

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lesbianphan · 2 days

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I know this is gonna be mushy and overly emotional and I'm sorry for oversharing a bit, but I feel like it's necessary to put into words what rewatching We're All Doomed means to me personally. I watched the kiswe premiere event live and it was one of the most fun nights I've had in a while, even though my life felt extremely hopeless at the time.

And, look, here's the thing: when the WAD premiere dropped, I had completely given up on improving things. In fact, I was very much in the 'doomed' mentality. I had long accepted that there was no way my life would get better. So Dan's message really resonated with me: it's easy to settle for being at rock bottom and thinking that's all there is for me. I was happy to see Dan doing better, but deep down I didn't truly believe his words either, not really. I did want to, but I wasn't quite there. And I don't believe them all the time, as he himself said he doesn't, and doing the show many times hammers the point home into his head.

After experiencing it, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could stop only embracing the void, but start having the courage to exist as well. Putting myself out there more, trying to make a world for myself in which I'm not the :/ emoji all the time. So I applied for the jobs, I wrote what I wanted, I unapologetically embraced the nerdy things and the fandoms I enjoyed. I decided I can choose happiness in the smallest of ways, even when it sounds silly and unimportant. Because it isn't unimportant really if it means something to me.

Rewatching the show last night showed me how much it changed my life and the big leaps it helped me take in life. I have so much more to learn, but I keep telling myself to be brave (lmao sorry had to sneak the Phil reference) and have the courage to exist. Really truly exist out in the world, not hidden inside my room. And sure, some days are harder than the others, some days I really don't like myself at all. Even in those days, though, I tell myself: all I have to do is have the courage to exist.

I went in to watch WAD with no expectations, and I feel like the message of appreciating the little moments was so monumental, it truly absolutely had a huge impact in my own life. I have a job now, and some financial stability. To be honest, I never thought I'd get this job, I might not even have applied if I wasn't in this mindset. In so many ways, Dan and Phil have profoundly changed my life, and I think WAD is just one of those big examples.

I doubt the real humans Dan and Phil will ever understand the impact they've had on this world, but I'll forever wish them the best. I'll always support them, because their creations have irrevocably changed me as a person, and as much as I like joking around and stuff, I'm just thankful that we share this existence, and we get to have fun and be forever changed by it.

Thanks @danielhowell, you'll never know how huge the impact of this show was, but I am truly crying writing this and I hope one day I get to tell you in person how much you inspired me to keep going when no one else would.

#obligatory come to Brazil comment so I can meet you Dan #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #(lmao soz)#Dan Howell #We're all doomed #WAD #amazingphil #Phil Lester #Dan and Phil #phan #dnp #sheesh I'm crying now help ahaha #amanda yaps #personal

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pxuvalentinx · 17 hours

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Woah like imagine talking about having a family with teen kento ‼️ requesting anything on this plsplspls

a/n: i actually kinda really like this idea waowww !! i've been so slow with requests lately :') i'll get to them soon pinky promise. THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST THOUGH !!! tags/warnings: obv teen pregnancy, slight angst, fluff, nanami is a sweetheart, established relationship (lmk if i forgot anything)

Teen Dad! Nanami, who at first wasn't too sure about this. He always tried to be safe with you, but I guess accidents happen. Nanami honestly thought it was a silly prank of yours at first, but when you showed him a picture of the positive pregnancy test, he lost his composure for a second.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who told you that he needed some time to think about it and really realize what's happening. Once the shock was over, he came running to you, telling you that he'd be more than happy to support you and be with you regardless of the situation. Telling you that he'll support both you and your kid to the best of his abilities.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who now would take on more missions to make some extra money to be able to support you through everything and also save up for the future. Since his plan was now to put a ring on your finger someday.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who often came home exhausted, pissed off that he had to work overtime and also that he had less time to spend with you. Regardless of that, he always made sure to get you whatever you craved, to massage you whenever your back hurt too much, and to help with chores around the house. Nanami would also take notes for both of you in class; education is important after all.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who tried to keep as calm as possible when your water broke (he was panicking on the inside). He read somewhere that panicking will only make the pregnant woman panic too. So he kept calm, calling an ambulance as he held you close, grabbing the little hospital bag you two packed together (he also read about that).

Teen Dad! Nanami, who tries his best to even support you during birth, holding your hand. Sadly, he couldn't really bring himself to watch it happen, only ever glancing over. Nanami hoped it was enough for you.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who becomes the best dad ever regardless of how young he is. He'd start taking on a bunch of chores and duties, just to let you rest.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who calls Shoko every day just to ask silly questions that should've been obvious. Shoko answers every question anyway, wanting to support you and him. Nanami always wrote everything down.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who supported your spending addiction when it came to buying toys and outfits for your little one. In the end, he couldn't deny just how adorable it looked in all of those outfits you buy.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who started looking for other jobs he could do after he graduated from high school. He knew he wouldn't be able to do Jujutsu sorcery forever.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who your little one always throws up on. It's like, as soon as he holds your little one, it just gets the urge to throw up. Gojo definitely makes fun of him for that (until he holds the little one and it also throws up on him, earning a teasing smile from Nanami).

Teen Dad! Nanami, who loves you just as much as before, not caring about any of the changes the baby or being pregnant made to your body. If you're insecure about it, he'll reassure you a lot.

Teen Dad! Nanami, who spoils you and your child as soon as he gets the chance to. When your baby grows up, he won't be able to say no to anything they ask for.

#x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami kento fluff #teen nanami #jjk x reader #jjk x you #fluff #nanami headcanons #dad nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #pregnancy #jjk cast #reqs open #writing requests

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ddoxhan · 1 day

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stay by my side

if there is no one next to you I’ll just be behind you, just stay by my side

word count : 0.9k words

genre : classic angst; giselle x gn! reader; days were never the same anymore but your feelings for aeri will always be unchanging for as long time exists

t/w : nothing :) this is just some good ol' angst

a/n : not much plot to it but ! it's the feels of not being able to forget someone and maybe, you're better off longing for them than try pressing down your feelings. anyone out there longing for their special someone, I just wanna say it's okay to feel that way :3 it may not be the healthiest choice, but allow yourself to long for that person until you feel it's time to actually let them go <3 enjoy !

things were just never the same anymore, it couldn't. I'd keep having dreams about you, about us. those sweet, spring memories we shared now embedded in my head like a broken record. those days when we spent our mornings showering each other with kisses, when we would take night walks in the park, when we talked about spending the rest of our lives together. those days, when we loved each other like there was no tomorrow. we did, but it just didn't last forever just like what we had wished under that shooting star.

I admit, that I still love you, the same or maybe even more than I did back then. I truly believed that we were meant to be, and no one can tell me otherwise as I've seen those eyes of yours bear the same endearment for me as I do for you. it sounds cheesy, but I am willing to be if it's you. however, as much as I want to let go of you, I don't think I'd ever come to terms with the fact that you did. we were so beautiful, don't you think so? it was as if the world revolved around us. I know we will never be able to go back to those days, to love each other again.

every night that came and went in the same repertoire. staring straight at the ceiling, reminiscing the times I still had you in my arms, crying myself to sleep, jolting awake from the same nightmare, hugging myself back to sleep. the pain was almost unbearable when it gets to the nightmare. it was my regrets for not doing my best for you, and the mistakes that I wished I hadn't made. I could never stand to see tears in your eyes, especially if it was because of me. on the day you left, you looked me in the eye, with tears threatening to roll down your crimson cheeks. that moment broke my heart to pieces, noticing the burning sensation of the wind against my skin.

it seems I have already lost you, with no chance to turn back time.

when I'm sober, everything I did numbed me to the core. when I wake up to your side of the bed empty, seeing that the once lively space all dull with silence, the fridge slowly emptying, leaving nothing but water and some alcohol. it's like I stopped functioning properly when you're not with me. the flowers that you loved so much don't look as lively, the warm breeze that greeted us daily slowly getting chilly, the stars that we spent hours looking at don't sparkle as much. you brought so much color to my world, and it returned back to being monochromatic, like those times before I met you.

you brought so much joy to my life, and I have never felt so grateful for being alive. it was the first time I felt so euphoric, fortunate to see that very smile of yours when you look at me with such affection. that smile was for me, because of me, only me. you made me feel like the luckiest person on earth to love someone as wonderful as you are. I can only hope you felt the same way as I did.

all the things in my life took a turn, not a good one at that, after you left. you took a part of me with you when you told me that things weren't working out. what did that mean? was I not doing good enough? did your feelings for me change? there were so many questions I want to ask, but sometimes, they were better left unanswered. these daggers piercing through my heart are more than enough to leave me bleeding profusely till I can't feel love anymore.

as I spent each day, yearning for your warmth and affection, there's something that I've come to realize as I take a step back to look at things. there will be no one else who would be able to fill your spot, not even with time. it's been months, almost a year that I've been standing here, not knowing what is wrong with me. that's because, nothing is wrong. everything made so much sense.

I love you and nothing can ever change that fact. even if you don't love me anymore, that's okay. all I will do is just stand here right behind you, protecting you from the shadows. although there might not be someone who would be by your side all the time, I will be right here behind you. until the day I get the chance to stand next to you, be the one you can rely on, I will be here for you.

there will be a day where we meet again, whether it be by chance or fate. and when that day comes, I want to be stronger than I am now, to give you that smile you loved so much when we were us. until then, I will take this role as your dark knight. looking over you from somewhere you wouldn't notice, offering you a hand when you struggle, finding solace right here. I know you would be able to tell that I am here, but please, leave me be. for the day I am able to let you go, will hopefully come.

so let me stay by your side for now, aeri.

#giselle #uchinaga aeri #aespa #aespa angst #aespa imagines #aespa scenarios #aespa x reader #giselle x reader #Spotify

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tash-sho-sho · 3 days

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Now thinking about it, if it were really Self-Aware AU HSR... I did that anual-event thing, and I had done like... 4,678 or so of battles since I started playing, and like 2,804 or so had Blade in it. Like... imagine an Au where you are so down-bad for them that you use them even against enemies with a high resistance with their element.

Let me tell ya, Cocolia is REALLY resistant agains wind, and I love Blade so much that I still use him... even if I see like 20k with crits and all 🤧🤧

Imagine a Blade (or any character) that since the day he came home, he barely leaves the team.

That you tried to give them the best of the best, and is the only character you completely maxed all their talents.

Anyway, I see this and I feel proud as a Blade enjoyer that WILL make him E6 someday, but as a SAHSR AU... unless they really like you... I'm not sure how happy they would be.... although Blade sees himself as a blade, so he wouldn't mind? At least him.

How would your favorite character feel to be shown so much love?

Blade has was my first limited-5 star. It was supposed to be Jing Yuan, but I lose the 50/50 with Bailu, and I decided that I would save the rest when I saw Blade. I'm soo weak against these characters and I wouldn't risk not having him and his lightcone.

Now imagine how would the rest that didn't came "home" would feel after seeing how much love you give your love one. They are more powerful, and loved.

If you are someone like me, who does not spend in many characters, imagine the jealous stares of the rest that were not chosen. (I've been playing for like 11 months now, and I only have 34 characters, my wants are very specific and I do not tend to fall into temptation!)

I would go into more details but I have nothing going on in my brain, if someone had an idea... you are free to share it, or do a post about it.

Just me showing off my love for Blade(+)

I HAVE PROOF of MY DEVOTION

Hehe... Blade☆♡♡~

Blade set don't like me, I've been farming for months and no luck, I think it's time to give up... but pride is strong and faith is the last thing is lost! Although, I do need to farm for other characters, because no dps is as strong as a dps with a harmony character by their side!

BTW, the abundance path with Blade goes REALLY well, and that 3-star Blessing Path of the Abundance: Becoming One Being goes REALLY well with him, he can become a lil-healer himself! Such a good boy, healing himself and his teammates~♡

#sagau #honkai star rail #sahsrau #honkai star rail blade #hsr blade #hsr #hoyoverse #hoyolab #blade imagines #blade x reader #any character #character x reader

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 5 hours

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Emily x Reader after Reader has a sh relapse, Emily patches and her up and assures her she's still beautiful by slow, gentle, loving sex and lots of cuddling please?

You got it, anon! Thanks for the request! :) Hope you like it!

Burning

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, self-harm, depression, mental illness, sex, fingering, etc., injuries due to self-harm, brief mentions of an eating disorder, some explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: With Emily away on a case and a depressive episode hitting you hard, you fall back into a pattern you thought you'd kicked a long time ago. When she comes home and discovers what you've done, you're afraid it'll be too much for her. Emily does her best to show you that it's not.

You’d been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for what felt like hours, but was probably mere minutes. Time warped itself when the urges took hold, every second a lifetime of effort, until it became all the potential lives you might live stacked one on top of the other, and they were too heavy for you to carry.

The hand that held the unlit match was shaking, and you seesawed between the unbearable desire to scratch a painful itch and the knowledge that self-hatred that would flood you afterward. But at least the self-hatred and the pain would be something to feel, other than the abject hopelessness that had seemed to swallow you up over the last week.

You’d known a depressive episode was coming before Emily left. You could always feel them coming. But what were you supposed to say? Don’t go save people from a terrorist cell? Stay here with me because I’m scared I’m getting depressed and I need you? It’d be pathetic. You were pathetic. And it wasn’t Emily’s job to keep your mental illness at bay.

But she’d been gone longer than you expected–over a week now. And your depressive episode had hit you harder than you thought it would. You’d called out of work, you’d binged on food delivery, then hated yourself afterward, staring into the mirror feeling lower and lower and lower. Until the only way you could think to stop sinking was to shock yourself out of it.

You knew it wasn’t wise or healthy. You knew you’d feel even worse once the pain subsided. You knew that a relapse would make it that much harder to stop next time. You knew that if Emily was here, she would stop you, she would hide the matches and the lighters, she would be so, so sad that you’d even thought about hurting yourself.

But despite knowing all these things, the hunger for fire, for pain, was too much to resist. You scratched the head of the match against the matchbox and the flame leapt into existence. Your go-to spot in young adulthood had been your arms, but the burns wouldn't fade before Emily got back, and she’d notice them on your arms. This time, you held the match to the upper side of your abdomen, where your arms would hopefully hide the marks.

You scrunched your eyebrows and winced as the flame licked at your skin, the pain white and bright and hot. You wished you could explain to people that odd, addictive mixture of self-loathing and dopamine that hit you and made you feel simultaneously worse and better. You wished people understood the desire for it, that sometimes you wanted to feel worse because feeling worse made you feel better. But it was hard to explain. Even harder to understand. So you didn’t bother most of the time. You lit match after match until the box was empty, until your side was scattered with raised, red-white blotches, like a constellation of all the shitty things you’d ever been through or felt.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and hated what you saw. And it felt good to hate yourself, like a guilty pleasure.

You jumped at the sound of the apartment door opening and closing, and cold panic flooded your system.

“Hey, baby, I’m home!” Emily called from the entryway.

You quickly pulled a loose t-shirt over your head, wincing as the fabric brushed over the burns. She wasn’t supposed to be home yet. She hadn’t texted or called. She’ll hate me, you thought. She’ll hate me if she finds out.

Of course, Emily knew you struggled with self-harm. But you’d been in a really good spot when you’d started dating and had, for the most part, stayed in that really good spot for your entire relationship. You were in therapy. You had healthy coping mechanisms. You hadn’t relapsed in years. You didn’t know what had made today different from every other bad day in the last few years, but you knew you didn’t want Emily to know.

You silently cursed yourself for using all the matches; there were none left to light a candle in the bathroom to mask the scent of burning. You ran to meet her in the living room, hoping that by heading her off, the smell would have time to dissipate.

“Hi, honey,” you greeted her, forcing a smile. You took both her hands in yours to try and prevent her touching your side, which still felt as if it was on fire. You stood on tiptoes to kiss her, and she smiled, leaning in.

“I missed you,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around you. You flinched and inhaled sharply as her fingers grazed the burns.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, avoiding her eyes. “I just, um… fell earlier.”

Her hands fluttered over you, a worried expression on her face. “You fell!? Where!? Like, how hard?”

“Not that hard,” you said, trying to squirm away. “It doesn’t hurt too bad. Ow!” Emily had placed a gentle hand at your side and you couldn’t help your outburst.

“Well, honey, if it hurts that bad, you need to let me see it. We might need to go to the ER or something.”

You knew you were done for when she grabbed your wrist, hard. Emily was much stronger than you, so instead of fighting, you went numb.

You felt your whole world stop as she lifted up your shirt to see the scattered burns. You felt tears prick at your eyes. There were too many marks, and they were too symmetrical to have been an accident. You knew it, and Emily knew it, too.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, but if you did, you would have seen that her eyes were wet with tears she wasn’t going to let herself cry because you needed someone strong right now. If you’d looked at her, you would have seen a mixture of sadness and pity and heartbreak and undying love. You’d have seen the face of someone who wanted nothing more than for you to be okay.

“Y/N,” Emily managed after a moment. “Did you do this to yourself?”

You nodded, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“Today?”

You nodded again.

“How long ago?”

You looked at the ceiling, willing yourself not to cry. “Right before you walked in.”

You hated yourself. You hated yourself even more because you knew that Emily would feel awful. She’d think that if she’d just been a few minutes earlier, she could have prevented this. And you never wanted Emily to feel like your mental illness was her fault or her responsibility.

“Come here,” she said, gently taking your hand and guiding you to the bathroom. She turned on the shower, making sure the water was cool but not cold, then slowly pulled your clothes off. She nodded toward the shower and you got in, shivering under the chilly stream.

Emily sighed and sat down on the toilet lid, watching you. She looked tired, so tired. You hated to be another thing that exhausted her, another thing she had to take care of and fix.

“You should sit down,” she added quietly. “You’re gonna have to be in there for a while. Until they stop burning.”

You sat on the tiled floor, the water leaching the pain away from the burn marks, leaving only disgust and self-loathing in their place. You pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face, trying and failing not to cry.

Your shoulders shook with the force of your sobs. You heard Emily stand and were sure she was going to leave. Why wouldn’t she? She deserved to. She deserved not to have to deal with you.

You jumped a little as Emily lowered herself into the shower next to you, clothes abandoned on the bathroom floor, and wrapped her arm around your shoulder. She pressed her face into yours as the shower drenched you both.

“Shh,” she soothed, careful to avoid your burns. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry, Em,” you wept, rocking. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she repeated. “You don’t need to be sorry. I love you. You’re gonna be okay.”

“I hate myself,” you whispered.

Emily gently grabbed your face and tilted it toward her. There were tears in her eyes, too. “Baby, please don’t say that.”

“I can’t help it.” Your voice was so quiet, so small, the sound of the shower almost drowned it out.

“That’s okay,” Emily said, brushing strands of wet hair out of your face. “We’re gonna get you some help, okay?”

You looked in her eyes then for the first time since she’d discovered the burn marks. You didn’t know what you’d expected to see: annoyance, disgust, hatred, or worst of all, ambivalence. But there was none of that in Emily’s eyes. Only love and concern.

Even so, you were scared to ask what you needed to ask. “Do you still love me?”

“Oh, honey, of course I do. I could never stop loving you.”

And then you kissed her. You kissed her with the cool water pouring down around your bodies. With your skin hot from the burns and from your aching love for Emily. You kissed her desperately, hungrily, like someone clinging to a lifeboat, and Emily was. She was your lifeboat. And for Emily’s part, she was gentle, almost too gentle, as if you might break at any moment.

You wrapped your legs and arms around her and she held you so carefully, so mindful of your burns. You shuddered in the cool water as your hips pushed against her.

Emily moaned into your mouth, her hands faltering for a moment.

“Y/N,” she said breathlessly, pulling away to hold your face in her hands. “We don’t have to do this." She looked at you a moment longer, then added, "I love you.”

You kissed her again. Her mouth. Her forehead. Her collarbone. Emily’s chest heaved into you and your heart beat rapidly.

“Please,” you begged. “Show me.”

Emily pulled you into her, letting her tongue and her lips roam over your neck, letting her hips meet yours as the water surrounded you, soothing your burns the way Emily soothed the roiling, burning despair inside of you.

“I love you,” she whispered as she kissed your eyelids. “I love you,” she whispered as she pressed her hands into the soft flesh of your ass. “I love you,” she whispered as she slipped her fingers inside of you. You bit back a moan and trembled against her, your body pulsing around her.

She fucked you slowly, tenderly, as if it was both your first time and your last, though this was neither. And she kept saying it–“I love you”–again and again, never stopping, so that all the darkness in your mind, all the self-doubt, didn’t have any room to make itself heard.

You let out a strangled groan as your body tensed around her, and when your pleasure flooded you, it was like you were on fire. And this fire was so much better, louder, brighter, than any flame you’d ever held to your body. It was a burning that consumed you, one that would leave you new and glistening afterward instead of scarred and in ashes.

You fell limp against her as she removed her fingers, kissing your forehead, your collarbone, your mouth, swirling her tongue with yours until you felt drunk on her. “I love you,” she said, and you didn’t think you’d ever get tired of hearing it. “I love you.”

You were quiet as she turned off the shower head. Quiet as you both dried off, as Emily gently pressed a towel to your side, making sure your burns were clean and dry. She sat you on the toilet lid as she pulled gauze squares and antibacterial ointment out of the bathroom cabinet, spreading the ointment on the gauze, then pressing it gently to your skin.

“Lift your arms up,” she said quietly, as she circled your body with bandages, wrapping it just tight enough that it wouldn’t shift in the night.

She knelt down in front of you and caressed your face. “Bed?” she asked. You nodded.

“You go ahead,” she said, patting your leg. “I’ll be right there.”

You felt self-doubt start creeping back in as you laid in bed on top of the covers, your burns still too hot to sleep underneath. When Emily came into the room, she carried a glass of water and a bottle of pills.

“Take these,” she told you, handing you a few. You drank and swallowed obediently.

She lay down in the bed and motioned you over. “Come here and let me hold you.”

You rested your face in the crook of her neck, and she played with your hair, careful to avoid your burns.

“I love you,” she whispered after a few minutes, kissing the top of your head.

“You said.” You meant it to be funny, but your heart wasn’t in it. Not yet.

“And I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.”

You were quiet for a minute, then spoke. “I love you, too, Em.” You nuzzled your way closer to her, hoping against hope that her arms around you were enough to keep the darkness and the numbness away for the night.,

And as you drifted off, she kept saying it–“I love you.” And then a kiss on your head.

As your eyelids fluttered closed–“I love you.” And she pressed her face to your forehead.

As your breath slowed and evened, and your body went limp–“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss drabble #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #hurt/comfort #self h@rm

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annaraebananawriter · 23 hours

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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