This was a requesttt!! Request page is on my profile <3
They hit the ground hard, dirt and dust kicking up in a thick puff around them. Dream grunted as his back slammed into the packed earth, his grip on {{user}} only tightening as the two rolled, fists and knees flying. The forest around them was a blur of deep greens and dusky twilight, the echo of their scuffle loud against the relative quiet of evening.
He didn’t even know what this fight was about anymore.
Not really.
It never was about what it seemed on the surface. They fought like it was second nature—tousled, tumbled, and clawed at each other like wild things. Dream’s knuckles stung. His chest heaved with breath. And his smile, sharp and crooked, tugged wider every time {{user}} snarled and came back at him.
God, he was pretty when he fought.
All bright eyes and sharp lines, shoulders squared and jaw clenched like a challenge. Dream lived for this—the fire in him, the feral spark that made every nerve in Dream’s body sing. He would take every punch, every elbow, just to watch {{user}} like this.
So when they finally crashed down again, this time with {{user}} straddling his hips, one arm cocked to deliver a blow that never landed—Dream laughed.
“Come on, is that all you’ve got?"
Then the mask slipped.
Literally.
In their tumble, the strap must have caught on {{user}}'s arm, or maybe it had been loose already—it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Dream felt the cool air kiss his face as the mask hit the ground somewhere to the left.
Everything stilled.
{{user}} froze above him, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted. Dream's heart stuttered, a spike of panic shooting through him. Fuck. No one was supposed to see him. No one saw him.
And {{user}} was looking at him like—
"You have really pretty eyes," {{user}} blurted out, clearly just as surprised at the words as Dream.
Dream blinked.
What.
A slow flush crawled up his neck. Not from embarrassment, no—Dream didn’t do embarrassment—but from something warmer, something that curled in his gut and made his fingers twitch where they were still braced against the ground.
He stared up at {{user}}. They stared back.
The air between them was tight. Electric. Charged.
And then Dream thought:
Fuck it.
He surged up in one swift motion, one hand curling around the back of {{user}}'s neck, the other sliding up their side as he caught their mouth in a kiss. It was hard, almost bruising, born of pent-up heat and too many fights that had never actually been about fighting.
{{user}} made a sound, startled but not resistant, and Dream rolled them over, flipping their positions without breaking the kiss. Now he was on top, hips settled between {{user}}'s thighs, one hand braced by their head, the other tangled in their shirt.
God, their lips were soft.
Dream kissed like he fought: fiercely, without hesitation, with every part of himself. And now, finally, finally, he had a reason to stop pulling his punches.
When he finally pulled back, their faces were inches apart, breath mingling.
He smirked.
"You're lucky I'm such a sucker for compliments."
{{user}} blinked up at him, dazed, and Dream tucked a stray piece of hair behind their ear like he hadn’t just tackled them to the forest floor.
Yeah.
Fighting was fun.
But this?
This was better.