Patreon || Ko-Fi || Masterlist || Work In Progress
–
Resources
Resources For Creating Characters
Resources For Describing Characters
Resources For Writing The Mafia
Resources For Writing Royalty
Commentary on Social Issues In Writing
General Tips
Guide to Character Development
How To Fit Character Development Into Your Story
Tips on Character Consistency
Designing A Character From Scratch
Making characters for your world
Characters First, Story Second Method
Understanding Your Character
Tips on Character Motivations
31 Days of Character Development : May 2018 Writing Challenge
How To Analyze A Character
Alternative Method of Character Creation
Connecting To Your Own Characters
Interview As Your Characters
Flipping Character Traits On Their Head
Character Driven vs. Plot Driven Stories
Traits
Tips On Writing About Mental Illness
Giving Your Protagonists Negative Traits
Giving Characters Distinct Voices in Dialogue
Giving Characters Flaws
Making Characters More Unique
Keeping Characters Realistic
Archetypes
Writing Good Villains
Creating Villains
Guide to Writing The Hero
Positive Character Development Without Romanticizing Toxic Behavior
Tips on Writing Cold & Distant Characters
Balancing Multiple Main Characters
Creating Diverse Otherworld Characters
Foreshadowing The Villain
–
Masterlist | WIP Blog
If you enjoy my blog and wish for it to continue being updated frequently and for me to continue putting my energy toward answering your questions, please consider Buying Me A Coffee, or pledging your support on Patreon, where I offer early access and exclusive benefits for only $5/month.
Exercises and Other Things That Help With Writer's Block - @littlewhispersoftsolitude
Vocabuary
Words To Describe Facial Expressions - @introvrt-unicorn
The Smut Writer's Dictionary - @maybeeatspaghetti
Synonyms For 'Said' - @simping4fics
Writer's Vocabulary List: Words that Sound Beautiful - @writing-is-my-anchor
26 Words To Use In Replacement Of Very - @cjsworld55
Tips To Writing Body Language - @iansfreckles
Online Thesaurus/Dictionary
Words To Use In Stories #1 - @/littlewhispersoftsolitude
Words To Use In Stories #2 - @/littlewhispersoftsolitude
Illustrating Emotions With Eyes/Eye movements - @writingquestionsanswered
Alternative Words For Said - @/littlewhispersoftsolitude
Prompts - casual affection - @malabu
Saying "I love you" without saying "I love you" (Fluff) - @prompty-ping
Writing LGBTQ+ Characters
6 Pitfalls To Avoid When Writing LGBTQ+ Characters
How To Write Better LGBTQ+ Characters
How To Make a Fictional LGBTQ+ Character
Beyond the Closet: Writing Gay Characters
How To Write Gay Characters Into Your Story
NSFW Tips
How To Write A (Great!) Sex Scene
9 Tips To Writing Steamy Scenes
How To Write Erotica - And a Damn Fine Sex Scene
SUMMARY… who would've known that spidermanchild is just a big ass dork.
WARNINGS/INFO… no nwh spoilers dw. inspired by me rewatching spiderman movies and dream having a spiderman skin on fortnite. i didn’t have a specific spiderman universe to base this off so go wild.
not proofread!
You sneeze.
White powder-like snow sinks down like feathers, some of it melting on the tip of your shoes, causing a wet spot to form on the material. Maybe you should’ve worn your cheaper pair today. You sigh at that, already irritated by everything around you.
Nonetheless, you amble on forwards your way to school.
This city, although known as a tourist spot for sites where heroes had fought in, is a garbage dump, and you’re already nice by describing it like that. Thieves, everywhere. Villains with otherworldly superpowers, everywhere.
Snow on your clothes, everywhere.
You sniffle, pushing forward despite your bones freezing up until you swear you would freeze to death in place like a snowman.
Yelled curses emit from an alleyway you pass by. This, of course, wasn’t a normal occurrence, but not an unusual one, either. There’s always something happening somehow, no matter how little ( someone failing a robbery by running away so they look even more suspicious ), or big ( big lizards who look like Voldemort and aliens ).
You ignore everything going on around you, as you usually do. No one would want to bother some high schooler with eyes that can kill anyone on the spot. No one would even want to bother you, period.
It seems as though the universe disagrees with this logic today.
Once the yells turn faint, out of earshot, you’re swooped away until you’re turning to a sharp corner. It takes you three seconds to realize there’s an arm around your waist guiding you to who-knows-where.
“What the fu—”
“Shh,” the creepy dude beside you hisses. He has a nice voice, which is the first thing you notice. But it seems as though he’s panicking because it sounds more like a squeak in his throat.
“Don’t ‘shh’ me, asshole, this is illegal!” you retort, but politely keep your voice down anyway, since the way his grip tightened around your waist was a warning.
When you glance up, you manage to make out sharp frantic green eyes scanning the area and dirty blond hair tousled carelessly to the side. He looks like he just got out of a street fight, which in itself is already a big red flag.
That is until you look down and see a familiar green and black tight spandex suit peeking out of his big ass jacket. And without any words, you already know exactly what it is.
“Holy shit,” you breathe out, “you’re that Spider guy.”
His smile is painful and his steps are still hurried. Are you in the middle of a fight right now? “Yes. Spider guy, sure, sure.” He takes another sharp turn.
You’re shocked. “Aren’t we supposed to not know what you look like?”
“You can be an exception for now,” he mutters, still high on alert.
“I don’t feel as honored as I’m supposed to be.”
He gives you a side-eyed glance, finally acknowledging your wariness. “I feel insulted,” he says, sounding amused.
“Yeah,” you grumble, “you should be. This has to be illegal somehow—”
Spiderboy’s arm slings over your shoulder, and before you know it, you’re pinned against the brick wall.
Fortunately, he softens the impact on your head with his hand in between you and the hard surface, but that doesn’t stop the gasp that flies out of your lips—just out of surprise.
If anyone else were to see you two in this position, they would’ve assumed the worst.
The way he’s leaning so close, one hand behind your head to cushion your head, the other on your waist, and his eyes dead-set on you as if he’s trying to burn holes into your face with just a look—
Oh, it might be working, honestly.
Because now all oxygen is swept away from your lungs and you’re dizzy with the proximity and his heavy breathing fanning your face.
Thank the heavens that he’s not the only one blushing at this position.
You try to force out a glare, though it’s frail and barely any use in threatening him. “You know, once they see Spiderdude in this scandalous position, they’re gonna start rumors and shit.”
He smiles, sheepish, darkness flushing his cheeks. He pulls away slightly—thank God—but he’s still close enough to leave everyone wondering if you two had the indecency to make out in some alleyway. Honestly, people have seen worse here.
“Sorry,” he whispers. “But they won’t notice, I promise.” He gestures at his large jacket. “They won’t recognize me, so no one will care.”
“I care,” you tell him, feeling warm again when he presses closer as some people rush by to hide. “I care a lot— Wait, those were the police! Did you steal something?”
He shrugs, finally setting you down and giving you enough space to breathe. Not that it mattered much; the way he looks at you is enough to leave you breathless. “I stole their jobs if that counts,” he says with a lopsided grin.
“Hm, fair,” you say to yourself. He chuckles, which was a pleasant sound that you decide right then and there to never hear again. Spider guy likes getting on your nerves, it seems. “I have to say, you’re not the smartest if you chose me, of all people, to trust with your identity, Spiderboy.”
“It’s— uh, it’s Spiderman,” he corrects you politely.
You make a face, unimpressed. “Tomato, tomato,” you recite smartly, to which Spidermanchild blinks at. “Look, man, I’m already running late to my first class.”
His gaze is questioning.
Weakly, you wriggle your arm, hoping he’d get the hint.
His green eyes widen, immediately releasing you from his grip. With an apologetic smile, he grins nervously, as if still trying to keep up that friendly neighborhood hero facade. “Sorry, sorry. Uh, if you want, I can swing you there?”
“You can’t just do that, dumbass, your face is still naked—”
He yanks something from his jacket’s pocket, waving his mask around with a cocky smile that makes you narrow your eyes. “I come prepared.” He pulls it over his head, now having the suit blink at you. “Don’t underestimate me, of all people.”
“I’ll start estimating the minutes it would take to call the police right here, right now if you don’t take me to— WHOA!”
In the blink of an eye, you’re high up in the air with Spidermanchild’s arm carrying you ( how strong is he!? ) with the other shooting webs from his wrist. You scream right at his ear, but he seems unfazed—in fact, he’s laughing! He’s laughing at your terror.
Quickly, you wrap your arms around his neck before you start falling to your death, but it wasn’t like you were going to, either, because Spiderman seems confident in his ability to carry you all the way to your school.
“Wait, how did you even know which school I go to?” you ask. Or, well, scream, more like.
He coughs, almost stumbling for a split-second. “Lucky guess?”
After a few more minutes of bantering and flying through the air with some white strings ( how the fuck? ), you arrive at the floor where your next class is supposed to be through the hallway’s window.
Although it is pretty suspicious that this city-famous ( probably world-famous ) superhero knows the exact floor of your classroom, you theorize he can also read minds as well, so maybe you’re not that special.
Spiderman’s barely breathing heavily. Then again, he does this every day, so must’ve taken in some pretty good stamina. You, on the other hand, are ready to pass out cold on the floor.
You didn’t even realize how warm it was to have Spiderman beside you until he sets you on the floor and you’re shivering again.
“Wow,” is all you can say, after the rare experience of Spiderman being your ride to school.
Spiderman laughs, and it’s bright—the kind that leaves rainbows in everyone’s eyes. It’s easier to hear how low his voice is when you’re far from the bustling crowd. “Get in before your teacher whoops your ass.”
“Right.” Blinking awkwardly, you tug on the strap of your bag, and then give him a two-finger salute. “Don’t think that I owe you anything by the way!”
But he’s already swinging away.
You whirl around and run into the classroom with a wide smile plastered on your face.
⫘⫘⫘ · 🕸 · ⫘⫘⫘
Class is boring, as always.
You’re only half-listening to the teacher, too occupied in recalling the moments with the hero earlier. You just swung to school. With Spiderman. And no one in your class knows; they’re staring at the whiteboard, without a single thought behind their eyes—without knowing that one of their classmates had the luxury of being in the arms of Spiderman.
( Albeit, you were a bit cranky to the dorky hero. )
Mr. Phil clicks his tongue. “So nice of you to finally join us, Dream.”
Boredly, you look up from your notebook and almost choke on air at the sight of the new guy who just walked in the room, bag tucked in between his right arm instead of over his back, as if he just picked it up in a hurry.
The teacher clears his throat, looking ahead as Dream shyly makes his way over beside him. You’re wide-eyed, following his every move. When he meets your eyes, he flushes and looks away, which only confirms your suspicions.
“This is a transferee. Be nice to him.” Mr. Phil stares. “Yes, that includes you, Sapnap.”
Sapnap, the boy with the fiery grin, splutters. “I didn’t even—” Everyone smothers a laugh from beside him, earning a glare from the former.
“Go sit there. We saved it for you,” he points at the chair in front of you, which is, in fact, empty. Dream smiles awkwardly as he makes his way over to you, while you’re still gaping at him as if he had grown two heads. “Alright, anyway. Back to the lesson—”
You quietly kick on the leg of his chair, but it seems as though he sensed your assault on his seat before you can even hit it, because he already has his head tilted until he can see you. The same green eyes, same freckles, and same smile.
Holy shit. It hits you.
Spiderman is literally your classmate.
Dream flicks a note to you with a web of his attached to it. It lands gracefully on your lap, which you blink at. You unfold the paper.
We’ll talk later - Spiderboy :) ☆
⫘⫘⫘ · 🕸 · ⫘⫘⫘
Lunch rolls around but your friend, Karl, is already dragging you away from your classroom as soon as everyone starts deserting the classroom, which meant that the ‘talk later’ would have to come later-later.
“Dude, no, I swear!” Karl laughs, as sunny as daylight. “George seemed nice.”
Quackity rolls his eyes. “You can’t keep bringing in randos to our table just because they talked to you in class, Karl,” he chides, but his tone is playful and light.
Dream keeps staring at you.
Although you can’t even see his face, the goosebumps that arise on your skin along with warmth on the back of your neck only serve to tell you that Dream is staring at you. When you take a sharp glance at him, his green eyes immediately snap away—but you were right.
“Why not? Isn’t that what I did to you?” Karl teases, nudging the younger multiple times to the ribs. Quackity bursts into laughter as he tries to wiggle away from him. “Now look at us: inseparable!”
Dream is only a few tables away, and yet… Yet it was—
It was distracting.
“Why is Y/N having a staring contest with the new kid?”
At the sound of your name, your head snaps back into place, staring at them like a deer caught in headlights. They share a look. You cough, “Uh, sorry. He keeps staring at me.” You weren’t exactly lying to be fair.
“You want me to tell him to fuck off?” Quackity asks, completely serious.
“What? No, no, no. Don’t do that. That’s rude.”
“Okay,” Karl drawls, mischievous, “but it’d be kinda funny, though.” Quackity nods in agreement and you want to whack their heads off.
“Hey.”
You three flinch. None of you even noticed that he had already made his way to your table, hands shoved in his pocket, and smile unsure. Dream swings on the balls of his feet awkwardly as you all just stare at him—which is, admittedly, unsettling, since no one is saying anything.
Dream clears his throat. “Can I… borrow your friend for a bit?” He gestures at you.
Quackity tugs on your arm, glaring. “Why?” is his instant question, which is fair.
Dream raises his hands in surrender. “Just wanted to have a talk! Nothing that bad, I swear—”
Karl pushes you off the chair; not hard enough to hurt you, but enough to make you stand up and almost stumble into Dream’s body. “Go! It’s okay!” His eyes are wide and his smile is sly, which Quackity says ‘what the fuck?’ at.
⫘⫘⫘ · 🕸 · ⫘⫘⫘
As Dream guides you further away from your friends, he has his hand on the small of your back, asking, “Did you tell them?”
He probably means tell Karl and Quackity.
Although you probably would’ve told them if you even remembered, you were too distracted with the fact that you know Dream is Spiderman and he is the new guy ( not to mention that he keeps on fucking staring at you ); this is valuable information and you don’t know why you’re so flustered thinking about it.
“No,” you reply, “should I?”
Dream panics. “No!” he says sharply, which is louder than both of you expected. He blushes in embarrassment. “No, please. Uh, three people are enough people, I think.”
Three?
You shuffle on your feet, chewing on your lip to seem as if you’re being casual ( you’re not; your heart is racing and you don’t even know why ). “Well? Did you need anything else? ‘Cause I just said that I don’t owe you anything since you used me—”
“Don’t say ‘use’ that sounds weird.”
“—for your little scheme,” you finish, grinning at him triumphantly.
His shoulders sag visibly. “Are you still onto that?”
You nod.
He smiles, small, as if he’s trying to hide it but is failing miserably. “How about I pay you back by taking you home?”
You narrow your eyes at him, noticing how squirmy he gets under your scrutiny—it’s kind of amusing. “How are you so sure that I walk home, hm?”
“I wasn’t, but the fact that you’re saying that probably means that you do,” he shrugs, “or am I wrong?” Dream’s eyes are cunning when staring right into yours.
Damn smart-ass.
Your scoff is enough of an answer for him.
⫘⫘⫘ · 🕸 · ⫘⫘⫘
Your ride home was much more pleasant than the first, at the very least.
In awe of the view from up here, you almost forgot that Spiderman is literally the one carrying you and swinging you around out in the open, for anyone to see. You won’t be surprised if questions start to bombard you the next day, especially when you’re not wearing a mask like him.
“Pretty, right?” Dream asks, and you still get surprised by how he doesn’t sound breathless at all.
“Yeah,” you breathe, biting your lip to keep away the bright smile on your face. “Yeah, it is.”
Dream stays silent for a moment, and you can’t tell where he’s looking.
“No one else can get this experience, you know,” he starts, firing out more web thingies as he makes another sway. You hold onto him, leaning closer, and he clears his throat. “D-Do you feel honored yet?”
“Hah. It’d take a lot more than that,” you muse, hearing how he huffs under his breath, yet sounds amused all the same.
Was this flirting?
Are you seriously flirting with Spiderman, of all people? Is that what’s happening here?
Either way, it’s pretty fun.
It doesn’t take too long until you tell him where your house is. You said that he can just drop you at the front; he hesitates, but does so eventually.
“Thanks for the ride, Spidermanchild!” You grin at him as both of you do the two-finger salute.
You’re confused when you notice a piece of folded paper with neatly-written numbers ( though, the little smudges tell that he’s erased it multiple times ) printed on it.
⫘⫘⫘ · 🕸 · ⫘⫘⫘⫘
it’s around eleven PM when you hear knocking from your bedroom window.
Alarmed, and of course, armed with the knowledge of enough horror movies, you stay in your bed, curled up in your blanket. Moonlight reflects on the floorboard, depicting a shadow of a fit and bald figure, but it’s the voice that makes you sit up.
“Y/N? Are you there?”
“What the—” Scurrying off the bed, you unveil yourself from the blanket and come face-to-face with Dream, still wearing his dumb spandex hero outfit. “What are you doing here, Dream?” you hiss, yet unlock your window anyway.
“Hi,” he sounds breathless this time—no, in fact, he sounds as if he’s wheezing from pain. “Sorry, your house was the closest— I just— I need somewhere to stay.”
“Oh.”
Without another word, you usher him inside, telling him to lie on your bean bag.
When he rips his mask off, he reveals his sweaty and bruised face, eliciting a soft gasp from you that he perks up at.
“No, I’m okay,” he says, laughing slightly at your panicked expression. “Sorry, is it that bad? I can lea—”
“I’m getting you water,” is all you tell him, scurrying outside. “Stay there!”
When you come back, Dream is walking around and gazing upon the litter of polaroid pictures hanging around your room. You should feel embarrassed and tell him to fuck off, but he’s smiling wide as his eyes land on a baby picture of you, so you let him be.
“Drink up,” you say, handing him the glass of cold water. He smiles gratefully and sips every last drop, before pulling it off his lips and sighing heavily. “Jeez, does this happen every night?”
“It’s the life of a hero.”
He looks happy here, even when in an unfamiliar face. Maybe it’s because you didn’t kick him out so he let his guard down—and that thought makes your heart ache somehow. He says that there are three people who know his identity, but the way he’s strolling around like a lost puppy seems like you’re the only one he went to first.
“I don’t mind if you… If you come back,” you tell him, looking away as you flush under his questioning gaze. “Let me take care of you to pay you back, I guess.”
The look on his face can only be described as smug. You throw your pillow on his face as a response.
⫘⫘⫘ · 🕸 · ⫘⫘⫘
The next time he comes, you have the window unlocked for him for when he visits. Which he does often, if often falls under the category of ‘every single day’.
As it turns out, the other “two” were George and Sapnap, who, coincidentally, sat at your table the next day because of Karl inviting them. This meant that Dream has an excuse to stick by your side all the time, no matter where you go.
The others brushed it off as Dream being clingy, but it’s affecting you a lot more than you realize. He must’ve noticed, though, because the way he talks to you is borderline flirtatious. it’s driving you crazy.
Yet nights like this, when he slides your window open and you’re waiting for him, is just as addicting.
“You play Minecraft?”
You look up from your hands, which were unwrapping bandages that you bought just for him. It’s the least you can do for him to accompany you to school. And also because you think he’s cute. Whatever.
His green eyes are glued to your computer screen, which had the familiar game open. He’s still bruised up—worse than last time, actually—but he wasn’t lying when he said that he heals fast, because the open cuts are already stitching themselves back together.
Still, you told him that you need to clean it up.
“Yeah,” you mutter, dragging him down by the shoulder to make him sit down on your chair. “Why?”
“What’s your IGN?” he asks, looking up at you.
“You gotta earn that, buddy,” you joke, reaching out for the disinfectant.
He pouts and instead reaches for your keyboard to type something out in chat, his green eyes lighting up at the sight of your name on display.
<Y/IGN> imastinku poo pooo
“You’re so dumb,” you say as his shoulders shake with quiet laughter. “You can’t even spell right.”
“Your keyboard is seriously so small,” he laughs, which falters for a second when you press the cotton right on his wound. He hisses, but the grin is still wide. “Look at that: my hand covers almost the entirety of it.”
Your cheeks heat up under his gaze. “Shut up.”
Finally, you pull away and breathe out in relief to see his face all cleaned up. “Try not to let yourself get thrown off a three-story building, okay?”
He has this dumb dopey smile on his face as he stares up at you. “That’s harder than you know. Every fight must end with someone getting thrown off a three-story building.”
“I’ll throw you off myself.”
Dream laughs harder this time, wheezing slightly as his fingers find place on both sides of your waist. “Just— c’mere and shut up.”
He pulls you to him until you’re straddling his lap, which is fucking awkward and probably worse than when you two first met, but it’s comforting, so you find yourself relaxing without meaning to.
“You got your dumb white strings all over me,” you mumble, leaning your chin on his shoulder.
“You’ll manage.”
“Oh no,” you mock, “unweb me, Dream.”
“WHAT?”
HELLO! PLEASE READ!
thank you so much for checking this fic out :0 it’s truly an honor to have so many people support me. all i ask from you guys is to comment and reblog this fic! it doesn’t have to be much—it can even be one word—but it’s just to support me :)
hi sushi!! not sure if requests are open but if they are! Can i request a CC!dream x reader where the reader is also a streamer that lives in florida & when sapnap went to NC to visit karl, dream kinda asked reader to kinda sleepover until sapnap kinda comes back?? like its just a cute day to day shenanigans with dream (waking up/going to sleep w him, showering at his place when he offered & he falls inlove w ur shampoo smell etc etc🥺) thank you my love 💕
▸ CLINGY ⊹ ꜜ .ᐟ ❜
ᥒ ៹ ࣪˖. hi anon :D sorry this took so long and it's probably not exactly what you wanted aaa </3 if you're using mobile tumblr you won't be able to see the website so ill say it here: you got in before the requests were closed so!! hope you like it <3 ᵕ̈
ρ ៹ ࣪˖. cc!dream ⨯ gn!reader
ᥕ ៹ ࣪˖. 2.1K WORDS. this is so fluffy oh god. i swear my teeth started rotting whilst writing this. but fluff is good for the soul as much as angst is to the masochists so <3
DREAM
hi <3
hello??
y/nnnnnnnnnnnn
hihihihi hi hi
sk,jhmghfbg
????????????!@
@y/n
WAKE UP
YOU
SHUT UP
its 5 am
dream did you even sleep?
DREAM
did you have a good sleep :P?
YOU
dumbass
what did you want
DREAM
hop on vc pls? thx!
YOU
what why
dream?
Tiredly, you run a hand through your hair as your bare feet meet the cold floor. He won't be responding, you think to yourself. You flinch at the frigid surface, immediately pulling back as you regret forgetting to wear socks last night.
Another buzz from your phone forces you to push back and head on over to your set-up.
Sure enough, as soon Discord loads and you click on the incoming call, the green circle around Dream's profile picture lights up—the familiarity brings you comfort.
"Hi!" His voice filters past, bright and cheery like it always sounds whenever he's in a call with you ( Sapnap had told you that )—almost childish, like a toddler begging for attention. Your attention.
"Hey, Dream," you can't help but greet fondly, reclining on your seat. "Did something happen?"
He hums thoughtfully, "No. Just missed you a lot, to be honest."
"Cute," you say mindlessly, which earns an amused huff of laughter from him. You bite back a smile at the sound. "Didn't you promise the fans you'll be streaming? Are you still doing that or...?"
"I don't want to," he all but whines. "I just want to relax with you. Can we video call?" Then, without waiting for your answer, he turns his camera on, showing off sharp, bone-white teeth and mirthful green eyes.
You almost melt at the sight of his little bedhead and sleepy, half-lidded eyes. He reminds you to do the same, so you roll your eyes and pull your camera up, laughing when he mumbles a mantra of cheers.
To his fanbase and your friends, you and Dream aren't in a relationship, as much as you wished that wasn't true. Though, Dream is naturally affectionate, sometimes, he'll let it slip in front of a camera. So it's no surprise that he's clingy as hell, always seeking your attention and praise as if he's going to die without it ( and he's said that before. You told him that's not possible in any way but gave in anyway ).
"Your fans will be disappointed their precious green man didn't show up," you warn him, leaning back to stretch your body out on the chair. When you pull yourself back up, you catch him staring. He looks away.
"You're really pretty," he whispers quietly, fondness spilling out too much—and whether it's him trying to change the subject or him just praising you out of nowhere ( because he likes doing that every single day ), you can't tell.
"Oh, shut up. You can't try to escape with that," you say, yet the stutter in your voice proves otherwise. He laughs.
"Sapnap left today to visit Karl, right?" You pause, realization dawning on you. "Were you feeling lonely?"
Dream pouts, turning away so half of his face is hidden by his pillow. "As soon as Sapnap left, I wanted to call you," he says, muffled by the fabric. A strand of hair falls on his eyes when he cranes his neck again.
You want to brush it away.
"What? Why?" you ask instead.
"So you don't have to be embarrassed if I hug you anymore," Dream replies with a tone skirting around playfulness, and because he's a piece of shit, he adds: "Duh."
"Hug me? I'm not even there, idiot," you chuckle.
Dream stays quiet.
You stare blankly at the camera. "...You want me to head over there, don't you?"
"I'll cook you breakfast..." he tries weakly, and it comes off as a whine as if he's pleading. That's the only answer you need.
With a sigh, you say, "Give me an hour."
The quiet 'yes!' that comes from the other end of the line brings a smile out to your face.
But you still love him anyway.
Dream swings open the door at your first knock, immediately crashing into your arms for the biggest hug. You couldn't even take him in or even react because he's engulfed your entire body and easily lifted you up like you weigh nothing.
You yelp belatedly once you've realized what happened, gripping his shoulders. "Get off me, loser!" you yell out, forgetting that it's too early in the morning and everyone else is still probably sleeping. "I haven't even showered yet!"
"Don't care," he simply says, burying his nose on the crook of your neck, forcing out a surprised giggle from you that has him smiling against your skin.
"You're gross," you tell him as he gently sets you back down, a little shaky from the surprise earlier.
"You're in love with me," he retorts, cupping your chin.
You slap his hand away. "Touche."
The warmth that spreads to your cheeks catches his attention. "You didn't deny it," he sings, nudging you repeatedly. "Just tell me you love me, c'mon."
You shake your head. "No." Trying to step inside, you place a foot up on his doorstep, frowning when he blocks you from the view of his home with his body. He leans against the side with his arms crossed, staring down at you with amusement when you dip your head to try and wiggle past his freakishly tall figure.
"Let me in!" you demand, pushing your hand past his waist; he leans against the wall in response, squeezing your arm and keeping you caged in. "I'm stuck," you say.
"You are stuck," Dream agrees. Very insightful.
"Let me in; I wanna go back to sleep!" you cry out, throwing your hands up in annoyance.
"You won't be getting any sleep when I'm here," Dream says with a bright smile, and everything seems to pause for a moment.
You stare at him.
Dream winces once he notices the look of horror that has dawned on your face, stepping away immediately with his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "Okay, okay, fine. Nevermind that. Get inside, and please forget about what I just said."
With a laugh, you pat him on the shoulder. "Nice try, bud."
"Shut up."
Like he promised, he cooked you breakfast. Your favorite breakfast, because he's a loser like that.
Not that he cares when he sees your entire face light up at the sight of it, pushing yourself up to give him a quick peck on the cheeks. His cheeks heat up no matter how many times you do it.
As Patches curls her tail around your leg, you dig on your food with Dream seated across you, watching happily. He says that he's already eaten breakfast while waiting for you ( you scolded him for not waiting for you ), so he'll just stay in the dining room and wait for you to finish.
He gestures at the bag you've brought along with you. "Why'd you bring that?"
You turn your gaze to follow his finger. "Oh, was I not sleeping over?"
"You are!" Dream replies instantly, nearly cutting you off, much to your surprise. When you blink at him, he smiles sheepishly and reclines in his seat. Then, scratching the nape of his neck, he clarifies, "You are sleeping over. I want you to sleep over until Sapnap comes back."
Your eyebrows fly up, holding your food mid-air. "Wait, really?" He nods. "You should've said so! What's up with you and not warning me beforehand about these kinds of things?"
"Because I like it when you wear my clothes instead," he mumbles. "It's a better excuse than shamelessly asking you to throw on my clothes."
Oh.
"Dumbass," you mutter back, ducking away shyly from his gaze.
You and Dream wasted your entire day playing Minecraft together, cuddling with Patches, and messing with his fanbase because Dream says that it's not a complete year if all of them don't develop trust issues when it comes to content creators meeting up.
Now, you're both on his bed, tangled in the sheets, your head tucked under his chin as you scroll through Twitter that's currently cursing Dream out ruthlessly.
"I'm going to be streaming later on," you tell him as you crane your neck, rolling your eyes when he shifts to press another kiss to your jaw. "Dream, I need to use your shower; let me go." Squirming evasively, you manage to free yourself from the monstrous clutches of Dream before you run over to his bathroom.
"You didn't bring any towel or clothes with you!" Dream calls out with a laugh.
"Fuck!" you yell back, cursing more when Dream doubles over in wheezing laughter.
"I'll bring you the towel you left here only if you promise to wear my clothes for tonight," Dream says. His voice is closer now, as if he's standing right outside the bathroom door; you can hear the stupid smile in his stupid tone.
"Pushy," you grumble, hoping it's unheard. You pull open the door and stare suspiciously when he's already standing there with the towel you've always used when you sleep over here and his shirt and sweatpants. "It's almost like you planned this," and your remark makes him giggle elatedly.
"I'll set up your stream for you!" Dream yells out as you slam his door close.
You smile, holding his clothes close to you. It must be on purpose that it smells like him. "Thanks!"
As soon as you step out of your shower, fully clothed with his outfit, he calls you over your set-up that's conveniently placed next to his.
He smiles when he sees you walk in, gesturing for you to come closer. And because you have no choice but to follow, you trudge over and sneak under his arm to sit down on the gaming chair. Then, not even a second later, he buries his nose on your hair like a creep.
"Nice shampoo," he comments, fully knowing that he's the one who bought it for you. But, seriously, what's up with him and spending more money on you and his friends than himself?
You laugh, moving your head aside. "Thanks, kind stranger. Unfortunately, it seems to attract a wild boyfriend so I have to break my face-cam promise."
He nuzzles his nose. "They'll live."
"You're only saying that because you get to see my face, idiot."
Dream grins. "Exactly." So selfish. Not even an ounce of shame, this guy.
As the stream fills in with your viewers, Dream settles on his own seat, surprisingly quiet and obedient as he plays with your hair; it's a little funny to hear him curse under his breath when he messes up whatever hairstyle he's trying on you.
You can only hope your microphone doesn't pick up the whispers he shares with you.
You move to 'Just Chatting', giving Dream the perfect opportunity to compare hand sizes even though he's probably already memorized your hand size with how much he's done it.
The chat is suspicious, especially after you and Dream "pranked" them by meeting up—even having the voice-overs and everything, but they forget about it as Quackity, Karl, George, and Sapnap join the call with their buzzing and dizzying energy.
"Where's Dream?" you read the chat. "Probably asleep or something. You know how Dream Team is when it comes to living up to their names." The said man chuckles lowly, tickling the back of your neck with his fingers. You throw a pointed glare at him.
"He's probably whining about how he's all alone without y— his friends," Sapnap quickly corrects, laughing nervously. "As someone who's been unfortunate enough to live as his roommate, I will say this now: Dream can be really clingy when he feels like it."
That's true, you mouth at Dream, earning a look from him.
"Gotta cuddle with the homies, you know," Karl says, laughing—and the chat doesn't know he's laughing because Dream is cursing Sapnap out in your private group chat. "He's also probably mad that I stole his only roommate."
"Nah," Dream says through your microphone, ignoring your wide-eyed expression, "I'm alright now, thanks."
"Oh, damn," Quackity comments. "Surprise, I guess?"
