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ohraicodoll · 1 year

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Possession | Chapter 2

Chapters: 2/5 Fandom: The Sandman (Comics & TV 2022) Rating: Mature Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Original Female Character, Dream/Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Original Female Character, Matthew the Raven, Lucienne, Calliope, Mervyn Pumpkinhead Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Explicit Sexual Content, Past Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Possessive Behavior, Domestic Violence, Jealousy, Trauma Responses Tags: Complicated Relationships, General complicated feelings, Dream is an IDIOT, they both have baggage, Past Relationships, Angst, OFC: Dahlia,1st POV

Summary: Could the Lord of Dreams ever really be claimed? What was a human to a goddess?

3rd in the Fragments Series | Read on AO3 Writing Masterlist Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 Previous in Series: Touch Starved Next in Series: Interwoven Chapter Warning: Trauma response, mentions of domestic abuse CHAPTER 2: LIKE THE STARS CHASE THE SUN

Nothing immediately registered as different upon my entering the Dreaming. Morpheus wasn’t present at first, but it wasn’t a big deal. I’d gotten better at taking myself around the Dream Realm on my own and he was usually somewhere in the Heart of the Dreaming, doing work, or somewhere nearby. It wasn’t that hard to find him, especially once he knew I was there. He always found me, no matter how busy he was. What did feel different was the way the palace felt a little emptier, that static charge of electricity I always felt around the Lord of the Realm curiously lesser. There was an absence to the halls, the colors just a tone less bright. The palace staff usually milled around, used to my presence at this point, but I hardly ran into any of them. The throne room lay empty, the long stone room feeling cold and barren even under the churning sky of chaotic raw dream power. The shores at the edge of the realm where Dream usually crafted new dreams and nightmares were gray and still. His chambers were blank and bare without him. I couldn’t find him and he wasn’t finding me, which was the first sign that something was off. A sharp stab of anxiety peaked before I shoved it down. I entered the library, navigating the maze-like walkways and levels to where I knew the tables and desks Lucienne liked to work at always were. The aisles converged into a crossroads, a large statue of Morpheus looking over the room and cathedral painting on the ceiling. Books piled on the table, some on a cart waiting to get put away, but it mostly seemed like a project halfway through completion. Lucienne and Merv were going over something at one of the tables, not noticing my approach while having a hushed conversation that seemed tense. It wasn’t until I was nearly at the edge of the table did they jump at my sudden appearance, caught and looking nervously between each other. I noted it, adding it to the growing list of weird things that were happening. “Hey, where’s Dream? I’ve been all over the place and haven’t been able to find him yet,” I asked the librarian, knowing she would know something out of everyone in the realm, glancing between the two and their tense forms. Mervyn chewed on a cigar, pumpkin eyes squinting nervously and ash raining down on the floor, “Uh, he’s out.” My brow raised, “Out?” Lucienne sent him a sharp glare, eyes saying something I wasn’t privy to, before turning to me, “What he means is Lord Morpheus is taking care of a matter in the Waking world. He should be back…at some point.” He was in the Waking? My eyes narrowed. It wasn’t often he had something to take care of there as he’d been more focused on getting the Dreaming situated, much less without telling me. Every time he had he’d made the effort to appear and whisk me away to somewhere private. Not only that, but we had actually planned to meet up for once with a promise that he would show me the outer dream isles. It was rare he actually set plans for anything, much preferring to keep me in his room my entire visit. “What did he have to take care of?” I asked, confused, “I just came from there and he hasn't mentioned anything. We were supposed to meet.” Lucienne was shifting on her feet now, uncomfortable knowing that this wasn’t something she could easily play off, and that made me nervous in itself. Merv scratched the back of his pumpkin head, harrumphing and shrugged, “It wasn’t exactly planned, but listen, kid. The boss just had to run real quick. He’ll wrap up helping Calliope and as soon as that's done, he’ll be right back!” “Mervyn,” Lucienne hissed, eyes wide and berating. I could see the woman next to me wince as the words sank in. Calliope? A sinking feeling was starting to hit, mixing with something like bitterness and nausea, “Whose Calliope?”

Merv realized his slip up, far less skilled at knowing what to say than this friend, and his carved face grimaced. “Oh, shit,” the pumpkinhead grumbled.

The librarian very much was going into damage control, hand gently resting on my arm as she tried to quickly divert my attention to her and away from the custodian worker, “Perhaps you’d like to wait for Lord Morpheus in the throne room-” “Whose Calliope, Lucienne?” I bit out the words, pulling away and wrapping my arms around myself. Dream had never mentioned dealing with other humans really, besides a man that he said he meets at a pub every now and then. But never a woman, that I would remember. In the same way he had branded me as his, I felt the tight coils of jealousy as the thought of mine, mine, mine rang through me. It didn’t feel like this was a normal situation, a nothing meeting that was inconsequential. We had plans and he had ditched them to help this person without even telling me or having Matthew tell me. Lucienne and Mervyn both knew who they were. That wasn’t nothing. Especially with how these two were acting. Lucienne glared at Merv from the corner of her eyes and sighed, wincing, “It is a complicated situation and one I would prefer my lord explain fully to you. But-” she caught me off as I opened my mouth to protest, “- I understand that you wish for at least some answers. Calliope is one of the nine muses and as well as Lord Morpheus’ former wife. She called for aid and he is currently helping her with a situation.” My body froze, heart screeching to silence as it clanged through me like a bullet ricocheting. Former wife. Wife. Wife. The word stabbed through me, painful and sharp, hurting in a way I didn’t want to completely analyze and hadn’t expected to feel. He had a wife, or used to, but he had been married all the same. It was a hard concept to wrap my head around, something that seemed so average to other people but he was anything but average. He was an Endless, beyond the normal conventions. Yet he had loved someone enough to marry them before, had loved this Calliope enough to make her his wife. And he’d run off, bailed on me, to go help her. The thought felt like acid on my tongue, acrid and painful. “He’s helping his wife in the Waking world,” I mumbled, the words sounding dead and eyes unseeing. “Ex-wife!” Merv tried to correct helpfully, “And it’s not like he still loves her or anything, girlie, probably just cause he feels bad about how shit ended between them! Cause oh boy was that a mess, the realm was in a state for years! I mean with what happened with their kid and everything-” My head whipped towards him as Lucienne let out a sharp curse under her breath, “Their kid?” Everything felt like it had turned upside down and I couldn’t understand. Yes, we had never talked about past relationships beyond the one from each of us. He had said he’d had past relationships but he didn’t talk about any of them and I didn’t ask. It was a line into territory that felt shaky, uncertain. Beyond fooling around and enjoying each other’s company. But this felt like something he should have mentioned, something I thought he would have divulged. Or maybe I was thinking too highly of what we were and our relationship. After all, when had he willingly shared anything personal about himself of his own accord? I hadn’t told him about Aiden, why would he tell me about Calliope? About their child? His child. What did I even know about him? “I’m gonna just go,” Merv pointed behind him, backing up cautiously as I stared at him with wide eyes, “I’ll catch ya later, Loosh.” “Mervyn-” I called, but Lucienne grabbed my arm a bit more tightly to draw my attention back, letting the dream escape into the bowels of the library. “Yes, they do have a son, but I highly recommend you do not mention him,” her brown eyes stared me down, apprehension and warning in them, “ Lord Morpheus will be back soon, I promise you. Just please do not jump to any conclusions and let him explain things.” My heart was thundering in my head, my brain completely scrambled. I could only nod, pulling back from her grasp but not really seeing anything. The words Calliope, wife, and son were ricocheting through my mind and thoughts, warring with the challenging declaration of mine. I felt numb and sick. Without saying anything, I pulled myself through the Dreaming, blinking and disappearing into Dream’s chambers. Morpheus didn’t owe me anything. Yes, while we were technically exclusive, I think, we weren’t together. He didn’t owe me a history of lovers, explanations on his whereabouts, anything. He wasn’t human, wasn’t really a man. He was the embodiment of stories and dreams and ageless. I was a blink in the span of his life, a mere entertainment. Just a human. One of the nine muses. A goddess. I sat on the edge of his bed, one that he didn’t need but had made for us, and waited in the dim light. He hadn’t changed it from the last time I saw it, curtains draped over all the walls and light catching through the thin gauzy fabric. An antique dining tray sat next to the bed and branches of trees grew through the walls, blossoms full and bright. But it felt empty, the beauty hollow, absent its creator. Time passed, though I’m not sure how long as the sun didn’t rise or fall normally. But I could almost feel the passage of night through my sleeping body, feel each tick of the clock as I waited and waited with only my spinning thoughts for company. The longer the wait, the more they tumbled down into darkness. Old scars surfaced, the memories pushing up like flowers from a grave. That feeling of abandonment, of jealousy, of not being enough. They spun and spun, telling me that I wasn’t worth the dreamlord’s time or attention. He obviously wasn’t thinking of me, hadn’t considered that I’d come looking or that we had plans. I felt dumb, pathetic, thinking that I was owed anything from a being as old as the universe. Why would he waste his time on me when someone more important had called him away? “You’re pathetic, you should be grateful for my attention.” He was the Prince of Stories, able to weave a narrative and make you believe anything. I was just the sucker. Hours passed. I thought about how this felt so similar to waiting by the phone, waiting for someone to call you only for it to never ring. Hoping you were on their mind, that they thought of you. That thought made it all feel worse.

The shadows shifted, my eyes staring blankly at my feet. The feeling of Dream’s power washed over me, caressing every inch of my skin. I watched his shoes come into view, the fire on the hem of his coat shifting and swirling almost into faces in the darkness. My heart stuttered and I smothered it, shoved down any feeling because it would hurt worse to hope only to be shattered. The soft touch of his fingers lifted my chin until I was staring into those starry eyes of his, a black pit against the paleness of his face and the shock of dark hair. His brow was furrowed and a small frown touched his lips, but he was closed off for the most part. I wondered if he was confused to see me, wondering why I was sitting in the darkness of his room waiting for him. Probably just realized I existed again. “Little dreamer,” he whispered and took in the heavy solemnness of my face, “Apologies, I did not intend to make you wait this night. I-” “Forgot?” I finished dryly, emotionless. Morpheus frowned even more, trying to take in my tone and the way I held myself. He could tell something was wrong, but couldn’t quite see the scope of it, “I did not forget. A matter I had to deal with took longer than I expected. It was not in my wishes to disregard you.” Bitterness twisted my insides and that kernel of anger that seemed to always be present, burning in the center of my being, couldn’t help but flare to life. I was jealous. I was hurt, mostly by myself because I had believed myself to be more important, less easily discarded. But that had always been my problem. I was so eager for affection, for feeling wanted, that I would take anything. I wanted to lash out, to buck against this feeling I had worked so hard to not feel again. “How’s Calliope?” the words slithered out of my mouth like a coiled serpent, thrashing and spitting in warning. And he froze, the words hitting home and his touch leaving my skin like he had been burned, as I finally shifted into being present and met his gaze fully. Icy heat crackled under my skin, burning and destroying in a reminder to myself. I knew then he wouldn’t have told me about her, about where he’d been, that he’d helped her. I was owed nothing, I never asked. We had never crossed that line until recently when Thomas had tried to claw back into my life. We had claimed each other and now were dealing with the consequences. The more you put in, the easier it is to hurt. “Who told you?” the dreamlord inquired softly, steel lacing his words and eyes hardening to obsidian. Indignation caused me to scoff, lips twisting down, “Usually asking who tattled on you that you were out with your ex-wife isn’t the best way to play off that nothing happened, just FYI.” He clenched his jaw, taking a step back further away from me that I was quick to note, and drew himself up, “You are misconstruing my words. Calliope called upon me for help, nothing more. She was in a similar situation as I once was and did not have anyone else to turn to. I would not leave her like that.” Similar situation. I swallowed, only knowing of one such situation he had been in, but wanting to be petty all the same. Yes, it seemed like a decent excuse and I wasn’t upset he had actually helped her but I had waited and waited, feeling small and insignificant. And that made me want to dismiss him, make him feel not worthy of a reaction. “Okay,” I shrugged, feigning indifference and the word bland. The twin stars in his eyes flashed red with annoyance at the dismissal, muscle ticking in his jaw, “I can taste your anger, little dreamer, do not try to hide it from me.” “I’m not angry,” I bit out harshly, “I’m…irritated and bitter that I didn’t even know you were married once and that I waited more than half the night not even hearing anything from you, only knowing you had ran off without a word to help your wife. Like what am I supposed to think, Morpheus?” The sky outside the window was darkening, the smell of rain on the wind. I stood from the bed, trying to give myself some height instead of craning my head up to meet his. His cloak was even more wild than usual, a shadow that wrapped around him and spread into the room like a living thing. Gone was the smirk and relaxed expression he wore when we usually were together. He was back to being the King of Nightmares, the figure I’d faced down in my dream months ago now. Nothing but hard lines and unearthly countenance. “I would trust you to know I would not betray you,” Morpheus bit out, “I do not take this between us as lightly or as flippantly as you believe I do. A long time ago, Calliope was my wife, yes. But that time has passed and is not something I am eager to return to. She was entrapped as I was, if not worse so I answered her call. Would you hold that against me?” I shook my head, throwing my hands in the air, “I’m not mad you helped her! Yes, that is awful and I’m glad whatever happened to her was dealt with. I’m upset because I didn’t even know she existed! I don’t like feeling jealous and insecure and like a forgotten play thing. I already feel so small in comparison to you and you bailing doesn’t help. You could have done anything, left word, sent Matthew to tell me instead of wasting time I don’t have.” Because I was only a human. Anger was burning hot through me, at myself and him. For putting too much of myself into this. For letting myself get carried away and not laying down boundaries and rules and some sense of self. Protection. Time and time again, I forget to protect myself. Like so often, I got swept away by the magic and now I was drowning and I had only myself to blame for letting him in farther than he should have. “There is so much about you I don’t know,” I gritted out with a shrug, exasperated and hurt, “I will probably never even be able to comprehend all you’ve experienced, but I would hope that you’d share something. At least something as important as her!” Morpheus’ face was stoic, closed off as he looked down at me. He was every bit a monarch, larger than life and encompassing, “And what would you have me share? Shall I tell you of my entire existence, of every past lover and secret to give you alone to prove my word to you? To make you feel worthy?” “Now you’re misconstruing my words,” I growled back, “Like fuck, Morpheus, any mention of this would have been nice? Any mention that you had a kid with her?” I knew the moment I said it that we’d reached dangerous territory, the air sucked from the room like a blackhole. His body went unnaturally still, chin upturned and lips pressed in a thin unforgiving line. Lightning crackled in the distance and a wind bit at my skin, cold and harsh. I remember that black void in my nightmare when I first confronted him, the way only a look from him had made me feel like I could be crushed like a bug. I felt that again, the weight of his power and who he was. Not anyone, but the embodiment of so much. And I’d opened my mouth, had thought myself impervious to that look after all this time. But I wasn’t at all. My body locked up instantly. The reaction, one I hadn’t experienced in a long while, crashed into me suddenly and I knew my face had paled under that stare, anger sizzling out as if the oxygen had suffocated it. Words barreled through me, yelling to hide, make yourself small, don’t draw attention. Brace yourself, survive, apologize, beg for forgiveness. I swallowed thickly, the first hints of fear towards him on my tongue for the first time in a while. “That is not a discussion we will be having, Dahlia” the King of Dreams whispered into the darkness like a thundercloud, oppressive and terrible, and my name was acrid in the air, “In time, I may share myself with you. But do not make demands of things you do not understand.” My mind took the words in, twisted them, added the threat there. Don’t or else. Don’t or else next time he may do worse. I shriveled in on myself more and more, wanting to hide from the darkness of his gaze, the oppressive wrap of his power around my throat. “I’m sorry,” the words come out like a reflex, frantic and desperate, “I- I shouldn’t have-” I freeze up, mouth clamping shut as I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry seeps out of my pores and onto the ground. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry coated my skin, colored my eyes, as I curled in like a dead bug. My body was shutting down, closing in on itself. Old, reactive, a defense I thought I had moved on from but I had never done well with anger. I had learned to make myself small to hide, make myself small to protect myself because you never know what may happen when that anger is directed at you. I’d brace for it like one would brace for a tornado, hands over my hand and a prayer on my lips. Breaths quick and frantic, I lowered my head and stared at my feet, averting my eyes and willing the sting of tears to go away. Crying doesn’t help, crying makes things worse, crying is annoying and only draws more attention. “Forget I said anything,” my voice is quiet and choked, a clamoring rush of words jammed together, coming out in an effort to placate that anger directed at me, “You’re right, I shouldn’t have gotten mad or questioned you. I-I mean we’re not even really together, it’s not my p-place. None of it matters, just please forget I brought it up.” The words are desperate and placating and fearful. Silence fills the room, my hands clenched tightly at my side and chin pressed down into my chest to avoid looking at him. I’m a taut wire, pulled to the brink of snapping. The lightning outside the window had faded and his power still pressed against me sharp and metallic but the intensity had diminished. His pale fingers reached out and grazed the outside of my clenched fist and I flinched without meaning to, causing him to pause and register the reaction. I held my breath, waiting and waiting, bracing myself as nails dug crescent shapes into the palms of my hand. Instead, his power faded instantly, completely, and the tension vanished as if it had never been there. It was like air had been flooded back into the room, the change so startling I felt off-kilter. Dream didn’t hesitate and stepped closer to wrap his arms around me, pressing me into his body tightly as his nose skimmed my hair. I was still stiff, tightly wound and closed in on myself but he enveloped me like a warm blanket. Softness versus the hard touch I was expecting, had feared. The contrast was night and day, the Nightmare King no longer standing before me and now only Dream, the lord I had come to know. “Never think that you cannot question me, little dreamer,” his lips moved against my temple and body soaking my own frozen one with warmth as we whispered the term of endearment, “You are mine and I am yours. I meant that when we agreed. It is your place to ask these things of me and it does matter. You matter to me.” I felt that wire pulled to the bring begin to relax, inch by inch, as my body tried to calm itself from the reaction it was undergoing. Until finally, after a few minutes of him holding me like I was the world, I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my face into his chest. He relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief, and kissed my hair and stroked my back. This was the Dream I knew, the one that laid with me and showed me his realm and sometimes was a cheeky asshole. The one that laughed quietly in my company, worshiped my body, claimed me as his and gave himself to me. He wasn’t Aiden, wasn’t a monster lurking and waiting to swallow me whole. He wasn’t lying in wait, waiting to find an excuse to spring out and punish any small fault.

His arms held me tightly and I held him back, all energy leaving me and exhaustion taking hold. I could feel his apology in the way his fingers threaded through my hair and lips pressed soft kisses to the crown of my head. Morpheus’ eyes were back to sparkling diamonds, no longer hard but trying to convey that I was not worthless and that he saw me. I didn’t say anything, couldn’t form the words, only swallowed the hard lump in my throat and pushed away the sting of tears. “I will make this up to you tomorrow, I swear it,” Dream whispered in the darkness of the room, “It truly was not my intention to upset you tonight. That is the last thing I wish.”

I only nodded, eyes blank and unseeing. I let him guide us both to the bed and laid down nestled into his side, bodies stretched out against each other and legs entangled. There wasn’t much time left in the night before I’d have to wake up, but we stayed like that, quiet and fully wrapped around each other. I didn’t want to say that I didn’t fully believe him, didn’t put much faith in I’ll make this up to you. It was a line I had heard too many times to count and had never been followed through on. It had been whispered after a bottle had been shattered against a wall, after shouts had drawn the neighbors to call the police, after I’d laid huddled in a corner hearing “It won’t happen again.” I could pave the world in the number of times I’d heard I’ll make it up to you. But all I could do was hope Morpheus was different, that maybe he really did mean it. His fingers wrapped around mine over his heart and he held me firmly against him as if I’d sink through the bed and disappear from his arms if he let go. The name Calliope rattled through my brain like a warning, a thunder cloud, and I woke up with bitterness on my tongue. _________ (Author’s note: Mind you, I love Calliope. I feel bad she keeps getting dragged into fics but it does make good story fodder. So this deals with her a bit. Communication was gonna break down between the two eventually, that's what happens when you don't define a relationship. This part is where we start touching on darker topics so TW: for abuse, trauma, etc going forward on this one)

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always-andromeda · 2 years

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Hurricane (Johnnie's Theme) for Dwayne Hoover (aged up) please! 🥰

Author’s Note | I would like you to know, anon, that I have thought about this scenario over and over and over and I am finally so glad to have a place to write it out a little bit. lol, mwah, thank you for the request!!

If there's one thing that Dwayne hates about college English classes, it's how much people like to talk in them. So much mindless chatter that ultimately means nothing; contributes to nothing.

That's why you catch his eye. You don't speak up often. And when you do, you say something thoughtful. Something meaningful. And he finds very quickly that he likes the thoughts you decide to share. It makes his mind linger a little away from the literature. Makes him wish he could peruse the contents of your character.

To say you intrigue him is an understatement. He says he'll keep himself from getting too wrapped up. You're just another peer in another one of his stupid classes. The stupid classes he's keeping himself busy with until he decides what the fuck he wants to do with his life. But as long as he's stuck here...there shouldn't be any harm in indulging?

You try not to think too much about the dark haired guy in your English class. He has a way of making you feel like you're being watched all of the time. Even when you're in your dorm, you feel him staring between the lines in your textbook.

He's smart. Incredibly so. And he's cute. And he's very good at making you feel instantly self conscious. Every time you get to hear his smooth, ever so slightly nasally voice, you get nervous. He notices things that you don't. Yet you can tell he's in no hurry to impress the professor.

The way he counters your peers knocks the breath out of you and you're just counting down the days until you're next. You almost flinch explaining your perspective, waiting for him to jump in. That moment never comes. Looking back at where he sits in the corner, he sits with his arms wrapped around himself, leaning back in his seat as if he could hardly be bothered by the discussion.

This is how Dwayne ensures that he can observe everything. From his vantage point, he watches his peers and dissects them in his head; he watches you and wonders why he even cares so much. He barely understands the ache in his chest when class begins one morning and you're strangely missing.

The rational side of his mind tells him that you're just sick. Not a huge deal. He'll see you again another day.

Even though your voice isn't a sound he's well acquainted with, Dwayne finds himself filling in the blanks, imagining what you'd have to say about the reading this week. Maybe it's just a projection of his own thoughts. Maybe it's strange that when he thinks, it's you verbalizing the thought. Either way, he's fixated on you. And before he knows it, he's scrawling out notes with a new purpose. Surely they'll need to know what we talked about.

The week later you walk into class. Eyes bloodshot and nose running, you're obviously still sick. But you can't stand to miss another week.

Your mind is so foggy that you hardly even register his figure beside your seat until he clears his throat.

"Just thought I'd give you my notes." he says under his breath before nodding once and waiting for you to take the stack of lined papers in his hand. The second you hesitantly take them, he's off, striding to his little safe space in the back corner and mentally cursing himself for sounding so ominous.

As messy as his handwriting is, his notes are in depth and vibrant. And aside from the various due dates and key points of the lesson, you notice how much of his own opinions he put into the pages. And fuck, he's even more intelligent than you'd originally figured. This time, it doesn't scare you.

This time, it feels as though you've been let in on a secret. Like these were ideas that he kept guarded under lock and key. Yet you did something special enough to be considered worthy enough to read them. You don't take the gesture lightly. And you hope he intended for that. You hope that he's really as layered as you believe he is.

Plenty of guys love to wax poetic and pretend they're all that. But, Dwayne (you finally learned his name through his handwriting at the top of the first page) actually seems to be all that.

Dwayne doesn't reference other authors in his notes just to show off how many names he knows. He lists them like he has an intimate knowledge of them; like he's sat down with the author over a cup of tea and deciphered the intent of their work. Like he's filed them all away in some part of his brain specifically so he can mention them. You guess that a guy like him has probably been reading for his entire life and that the first week's exercise on how to notate a book was old news to him.

Once you study through them, you almost keep them. You're minutes away from simply stuffing them back into your binder and forgetting about the whole ordeal when you step into class, sights already set on him in the corner again.

Just suck it up. He probably worked hard on these; you can’t just take them.

You stride across the room and put on a hard stare that rivals his own. It falters the moment he looks up at you, hair partially shadowing dark eyes and a pert nose that catches your attention.

He's paler than you remember and suddenly you're convinced that his intelligence is real. Guys that pale don't spend time outside. They curl up inside with a book, shriveling away from the sunlight. How he manages to still look so good is lost on you.

You set the stack down casually as if you hadn't poured over them for hours just the night before, "You really saved me last week. Thanks for these, Dwayne."

Breath snagging in his throat, all he can manage is a weak nod as he looks up at you. And right as you walk away is when he manages to cough up whatever of his nerves keeps him from speaking.

"Do you want to sit over here?"

You squint at him in confusion.

Dwayne adds, "We could swap notes with each other. I think we'd work well together."

You could practically scream at how giddy you feel. To have someone like him validate your intelligence? To offer to help you? To suggest that your ideas have just as much weight as his? Your toes curl up inside your shoes and you try to keep your voice level as you reply, "Sure. That would be helpful."

Dwayne doesn't regret asking you. He wasn't lying when he said he thought you'd work well together. But he thinks he has no clue what you were talking about saying that this would be helpful. Because just the thought of you sitting beside him, knees gently knocking as you both listen to the lecture is far more distracting than when you were on the other side of the room.

But he doesn't mind. He could always use some more practice at studying. Especially if you're going to be next to him.

#strange trails milestone✨#paul dano #danonation #danocel #little miss sunshine #dwayne hoover #dwayne hoover x reader #dwayne hoover x you #dwayne hoover x y/n #˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚

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ghostslikemystories · 1 year

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New writing project!! I’m calling it Bug and The Dead Boy

Tw for brief non graphic mention of s*icide

Here is chapter 1:

Hi. My name is Bug and last week some kid I went to school with killed himself, and now I think he’s haunting me.

Why me you ask?

I have no fucking idea.

I barely knew the guy but the day after he died they announced his death over the PA system and sure enough, about 75 minutes later when I entered the wild buffalo stampede that is the hallway between my history and physics classes, there he was. Standing completely still in the sea of sleep deprived children, staring right at me.

I have seen him every day since.

Usually in the hallways, but sometimes he’ll lean up against the wall in one of my classrooms or against some tree on the path from the school to my house. He just sort of stands there. He doesn’t always look at me. Sometimes it seems like he’s just taking it all in, just sort of hanging out and vibing I guess. He doesn’t seem angry or malicious, in fact, he doesn’t say a word. He keeps a neutral expression and his arms are almost always crossed over his chest, or he has his hands in his pockets.

Oh and he doesn’t speak.

It’s not like he was mute while he was alive, I mean from what I knew he seemed like a quiet kid sure, but I know he at least knew how to say “here” when the teachers were doing attendance.

Now, it’s not like I’ve ever been the model of a mentally well individual, but I feel like if I were the certain flavour of mentally ill that involved hallucinations (especially those of dead people I hardly knew), I would’ve noticed it before now, or there’d have at least been some signs that I was headed in this general direction.

I haven’t told anyone. For obvious reasons. I feel like I’d be more inclined to tell anyone if he was scarier. Like if he was giving me creepy looks or saying spooky shit to me but he isn’t. He honestly seems pretty chill, not like your more classic vengeful ghost haunting the halls of the school that presumably tormented him.

I’m still trying to figure out why me. I can’t recall ever having a full conversation and in the 3.5 years that we went to the same school we’d probably spoken about 5 times. Never anything more than asking to borrow a pencil or asking what the date was. Here is everything I knew about Milo Li Zhang

He slept in class a lot, or at least had his down on his desk fairly often.

He was pretty soft spoken, and had a slightly raspy voice.

He wore the same grey sweater almost every day

The only class i ever saw him voluntarily answer questions in was English (but to be fair we only had a few classes together)

I never saw him hang out with other people (but again, it’s not like saw the guy all that often)

And that’s it.

I know like five things about the guy so why the fuck can I see him and why does it seem like nobody else can.

Every time he appears I look around to see if anyone else is reacting but nobody ever is. Once I “accidentally” dropped my water bottle next to where he was standing so that it would make enough noise to cause at least a few people to look in his direction. Considering my water bottle is roughly the size of a military tank and made of metal, this was a considerable challenge for me to accomplish with any level of stealth, but it did insure that the noise would make at least half the class jump out of their skin. And yet with all that attention in Milo’s direction, nobody reacted to the ghost of their dead classmate standing before them.

So maybe some genetically acquired mental illness kicked in and I am indeed going crazy. I don’t like using that kind of language about other people but hey when you see an apparition of your dead classmate for a week straight, you’re inclined to forgo more empathetic language.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: Bug, have you tried talking to him? Fuck no! Milo has been ever so kind as to only appear to me when I’m surrounded by other people! And even when I do try to wait wherever he is long enough for other people to disappear, right before we’d be alone, I blink and he disappears! So my only option is to talk to him in silent classrooms or crowded hallways and I personally am not trying to get committed to a psych ward, because I know a few people who have been, and they’ve told me that it’s not very fun.

So I don’t know what to do, or what to think about this whole situation. I don’t know if I’m supposed to seek professional help or if he’s really there, and either way I kinda don’t mind that he’s there? I mean yes this whole situation is concerning no matter what the truth his but honestly? He’s not hurting me. He’s not freaking me out or trying to get me to burn down the school or anything so does it matter?

Maybe if he starts standing over me in my sleep I’ll get some help.

Maybe not.

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

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My Only Girl

Summary: request! Reader has to decide between keeping her secret and saving the man she loves. In the end, it's not a hard choice.

Warnings: violence/blood

Word count: 3370

a/n: I really enjoyed writing this one! I put a screen shot of the request at the end just because I didn’t want to give away the whole story :)

You never would have guessed that today would change everything. It started the same as any other Thursday.

You were seated at your desk right outside of Tony’s main office working on his schedule for two weeks from now. Your music was playing softly through your earbuds causing you to bob your head as you read email after email.

Suddenly, a Starbucks cup appeared in front of your face, a metal hand wrapped around the cup.

You swiftly pulled the earbuds from your ears, turning in your chair to greet Bucky with a hug.

“Hi.” You whispered into his chest during your hug. “You are truly a gift.” You smiled, taking the cup with your go to order. You press a quick kiss to his lips only to be pulled back in for a deeper kiss by Bucky.

“Y/N, do you know when my next press conference is?” Tony asked, walking out of his office while still looking down at his tablet.

Bucky let you pull back from him just far enough to answer Tony. “Next Thursday. You wanted to announce the new post-mission protocol for ‘Damage Control’.” You chuckled at the title, knowing Pepper was still trying to talk him into changing it.

“Right! Thank you.” He finally looks up, taking in the sight of you in Bucky’s arms. “Barnes! Let her work.” He nearly whined, playing up the annoyance.

“I will.” Tony leveled him with a pointed glare, looking between you and your computer. “I will! I just wanted to say good morning to my best girl.”

You scrunched your nose at the term of endearment, leaning farther back from Bucky to look in his eyes.

“You don’t like being my best girl?” He sounded genuinely concerned, earning a small chuckle from you.

“I like being your only girl. Best implies that there are others, and though I would love to be the best of them, I don’t want there to be others.” You nodded your head resolutely, taking on a serious expression.

“Please, you’ve had this man wrapped around your finger from the second he saw you.” Tony scoffed.

“He’s right, doll. And you are my only girl. I love you.” Bucky pressed a quick kiss to your lips, letting you remove yourself from his arms to continue working.

“I love you too. See you for lunch?” He nodded as he walked backwards to the elevator, keeping his eyes on yours until the doors closed.

“Wrapped around your finger, I swear.” Tony laughed when you glared at him, retreating back into his office to make some phone calls.

Sometimes it’s really easy to pinpoint the exact moment everything went to shit. This was one of those times.

22 minutes before you were due to meet Bucky for lunch, the red emergency lights started flashing with an accompanying alarm blaring in your ears.

Friday announced “The compound is under attack, enacting lockdown protocol.”

“Shit.” Lockdown meant you needed to use specific codes to get into or out of any room. It definitely makes your life harder.

Tony left to meet Pepper 15 minutes ago, so to your knowledge you were the only one on this floor.

Glancing up and down the hall to double check, you swiftly enter Tony’s office, pulling up the security footage to see who you’re dealing with. Three different sides of the compound are surrounded by mercenaries clad in black fighting gear.

You watch the screens, contemplating the best course of action to subtly help when one of the mercenaries pulls out a missile launcher. He aims it quickly, firing into the side of the building.

You feel the walls shake as you watch part of the wall collapse, giving them an opening to enter the compound through.

“Shit.” You run from Tony’s office, heading for the action without another thought even though this is definitely the biggest problem you’ve ever helped them with.

You phase through the walls, doing your best to make sure nobody will see you when you come out on the other side of the wall. If all goes well, you’ll be back at your desk before anyone even notices you were gone.

Your powers are a secret, even from the team. The powers that be, meaning your boss, don’t want the Avengers knowing they have an Angel on their side. It took you enough negotiating to get yourself assigned to this “project”, you were willing to do it without telling anyone that you are a angel.

You basically had to beg your boss to let the Avengers be the people you watched over. Typically, angels are assigned to help those who can’t help themselves. Your logic for this assignment was that keeping the Avengers safe would, in turn, protect millions of other people.

The one stipulation you faced when finally being assigned the the Avengers, was that you couldn’t tell them what you are.

At first, You had no problem keeping the secret. Being Tony’s assistant hardly meant spending ample time with everyone. You didn’t need to befriend them to keep them safe. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Overtime, Tony broke down your walls. He convinced you to go to one of his galas, ultimately starting your demise. One look at Bucky had your heart soaring. Not telling him the truth has been eating away at you ever since he first asked you to get dinner with him.

You pushed your guilt to the back of your mind, refocusing on getting closer to the attackers so you could figure out what to do.

Typically, you use your powers to slightly change the path of bullets or hold off a bomb for a few extra seconds. It gives the team enough time to escape, not necessary unscathed, but with recoverable injuries. Plus, it keeps your powers hidden.

It’s hard enough to hack into the video feed from various super suits without alerting anyone, you were definitely concerned about how to keep your powers hidden while using them so close to everyone.

You skid to a stop just around the corner, listening as two of the mercenaries instruct the others.

“Split up. You know who we’re looking for. If you find him, report in. First priority is getting out of here with him alive. All else fails, kill him.”

Immediately, you’re mind jumped to Bucky. Of course, Hydra scrum could be looking for anyone to use as a weapon, but Bucky made the most sense. When would they finally realize they can’t control him anymore?

You used your powers to confuse the men, making it look like whatever blueprints they studied were outdated. It would hopefully give everyone else enough time to get here and fight them off.

You hid in a closet when you heard people approaching from behind you.

“Sam, find Wanda and get to the east side. Nat and I will handle these guys.”

You relaxed at the sound of Steve’s voice, waiting for the group to disperse before sliding out of the closet.

You ran back through the compound, heading for the lab. It was the closest place for you to retreat to in order to look through the security cameras again.

“Friday, give me a rundown of what’s happening please.” You looked between the screens, intently listening to the AI’s voice.

“The east side is being secured by Ms. Maximoff and Mr. Wilson. Based on projected outcomes, they will have everything under control in 7 minutes. Captain Rogers and Ms. Romanoff are fighting on the south side, near the blast sight. They will have the area secure in 6 minutes.”

You nodded, following along as you looked between the cameras.

“The west side is secure. Mr. Stark and Mr. Barton have cleared the area and are holding off any additional attacks.”

“Good. Where’s Bucky?” You looked between the cameras, but couldn’t find him.

“Sergeant Barnes is on the roof, engaged in hand to hand.”

“What the hell is he doing on the roof?” You panicked, clicking between camera angles until you could see him.

There were ten Hydra agents on the roof, surrounding Bucky as he did his best to fight them off.

“How did he get singled out so fast?” You mumbled to yourself, trying to think of a plan. They had Bucky backed up to the edge of the roof, slowly pushing him further and further.

You could see what was about to happen nearly in slow motion. You acted quickly, not thinking about keeping your secret, but rather solely focused on helping Bucky.

You broke through the window in the lab, wings appearing on your back as you flew to him. Just as you arrived, one of the agents shot him three times, propelling him backwards off the roof. Sending a shockwave over the roof, you knocked out the remaining agents as you dove, hurtling through the air to catch Bucky before he hit the ground.

You grabbed him around the waist, lugging his body through the air with some difficulty. It wasn’t the most convenient position, plus you were slightly rusty from hiding your wings for so long.

“Doll?” Bucky questioned, glancing at you through fluttering eyelids. “I knew you were my angel.” He whispered before his eyes fell closed, the blood loss getting to him.

You swung around the building, re-entering through the broken lab window and laying Bucky on the lab bench.

“Lifting lockdown protocol.” Friday announced, the noise barely registering in your ears.

“Ms. L/N, Captain Rogers is requesting a check in from everyone on the team, would you like me to update him on yours and the Sergeant’s situation.” Friday asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You muttered, not really paying attention to the question as you did your best to slow the bleeding. You haven’t tried healing anyone in years, so it was taking more effort than it should for you to fix this.

You closed your eyes, hands hovering over Bucky’s body. Your wings were still present, although no longer fully extended.

You channelled everything you could into healing Bucky’s wounds, drowning out any outside interference. Your hands began to glow, a warm golden light surrounding Bucky’s body as his bullet wounds healed.

A few minutes passed as his wounds fully healed. You nearly collapsed from the relief of seeing him no longer bleeding out. His color was returning to normal, heartbeat speeding back up.

“Y/N?” You jumped at the noise, turning around to see nearly the entire team staring at you.

Your eyes went wide, hand still clutching Bucky’s as you stuttered in an attempt to come up with an explanation.

“You have wings.” Wanda pointed out the obvious, everyone still wearing matching expressions of shock.

You looked over your shoulder, nearly surprised by their presence on your back yourself. You had been so focused on healing Bucky, you forgot to hide them again.

“Your hands were glowing.” Sam’s brow furrowed, looking between you and Bucky.

You nodded, still unsure of what to say.

Suddenly Steve barged into the room, unaware of the tension. He ran right for Bucky, yelling for someone to get a medic.

“Why are you all just standing there? Friday said he was shot! Three times! Get a medic!” He looked at everyone in a panic before turning to look for wounds on Bucky.

His brow furrowed as he tried to find any of the bullet wounds. “Wha- Where are the bullet wounds... He’s covered in blood, but not bleeding? Even we can’t heal that fast, what’s going on?” Steve turns back to the team, mouth slightly agape.

They all point to you.

Slowly, Steve turns finally noticing your presence. “Y/N?” He looks between the team and you again, a double take so fast it would have been funny if not for the situation.

“You have wings?” He says it with much more confusion than Wanda’s point blank statement.

You nod, voice still eluding you. You finally manage to get the wings to disappear.

“Care to explain...” Tony asks, pointing to where your wings just were, your hands, and Bucky, “All of that?”

Before you can reply, Bucky jolts awake with a groan.

“What the hell?” He looks around the lab, taking everyone’s confused faces. Even Nat looks surprised. “How did I get here?” He rubs his abdomen, slightly sore from the bullets.

Everyone shakes their heads, looking to you for answers.

“Y/N?” He turns to you, hand squeezing yours slightly. “You were an angel. I thought I was dying...” He trailed off, trying to makes sense of everything in his head.

“An angel?” Steve balks. Everyone else nods, various expressions of understanding on their faces.

“I mean, that makes sense.” Nat chimes in, ready to accept it. “Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that ever happened.”

“What?” Bucky asks, sitting up on the counter. “She’s not actually an angel. I just saw that as my... I don’t know, dying wish?” His face scrunched in confusion, trying to make sense of what he saw.

“Well, I’m not dying and I saw the wings. And the glowing hands.” Clint speaks up, turning all eyes back to you.

A voice in your head is suddenly booming. Your hands fly up to the sides of your head, trying to dull the ache of the screaming voice in your mind.

“Y/N L/N, you have broken the only rule bestowed upon you. According to contract 71, you are no longer permitted to enter the Angel Realm. Any attempts to return here will result in termination of your capabilities. Misuse of your capabilities on Earth or any other planet will result in termination of your capabilities.” Your boss’s voice was instantly recognizable.

You didn’t notice the team crowding around you while you doubled over in pain, rubbing your temples as the message repeated.

“Ugh, why did you have to say it twice?” You suddenly stared up at the sky, annoyed with the whole system.

“Um, who said what twice?” Banner finally entered the lab, having been avoiding any anger inducing scenarios.

Before anyone could jump in with what little knowledge they had, you started talking.

“My Boss.” You winced, looking at Tony as he raised a brow. “My other boss... well, I guess not anymore. My former other boss.”

“Which is...” Tony gestured for you to continue.

“Maybe you should all sit down, this could take a while...”

Everyone followed as you lead them to the kitchen and living room.

“Okay, I’ll just jump into I guess.” You took a deep breath, looking around the room at everyone’s curious and slightly impatient expressions.

“I’m an angel.” You nodded, trying to reassure yourself that it was okay to say out loud.

“Yeah, and? We figured that one out fifteen minutes ago.” Tony huffed, wanting more information.

“Four years ago, I found out about the Avengers.” You looked at all of them, nervous for their reactions. “Angels are supposed to protect those who can’t help themselves, but I wanted to protect you all.”

“Why?” Steve asked, eying you curiously.

“Would you all stop interrupting and let her explain!” Wanda whisper yelled, gesturing for you to continue.

“It’s a valid question. Um, I guess I just thought you all put your lives on the line to help everyone else and I wanted to do what I could to help you. I convinced my former boss to let me come here. I told her protecting you guys would protect all the people you were bound to save, and that’s a lot of people.”

Everyone nodded, seemingly taking in the information.

“I wanted to tell you. I really did, but it was my only rule. I wasn’t allowed to.” You nervously wrung your hands together, biting your lip as everyone took in the information.

“That’s why it’s former boss?” Nat questioned.

“Yes. She fired me?” It was a question to your own ears. “I’ve never heard of an angel being fired before. That kinda sucks.” Everyone chuckled at that.

“And that was why you doubled over in pain in the lab?” Bucky questioned, concern in his voice.

You nodded. “Yeah, she has a habit of yelling in my head. And she always says everything twice.” You glared at the ceiling again, knowing she had probably moved on from you already.

“You’re not mad?” You looked back at Bucky, practically forgetting about everyone else in the room.

“You caught me after I was shot off of a building and then healed my three bullet wounds. I think you’ve made up for the secret.” Bucky smiled, pulling you into his lap for a hug. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You nearly burst into tears at the relief you were feeling. “Oh thank God.” You squeezed him as tight as you thought he could handle, needing to feel him close to your for a second.

You then turned to face the rest of the team, giving them an equally nervous look. “Are you guys mad?”

“Well, I didn’t get any magic healing.” Sam huffed, a smile on his face.

“Nobody flew me around the compound.” Tony added on.

“But, you can fly?” You gave him a confused expression.

“Dammit” Tony muttered, thinking on his feet. “Tell you what, tell me what else you can do and we’ll call it even.”

“Deal... Maybe we can meet back here in half an hour?” You looked at their bruised and bloody bodies. “You all look like you could use a shower, and I for one would love to get this blood off me.” You gestured to the blood covering your jeans and shirt.

A half hour later, you were back in the living room. Tony ordered pizza, everyone crowding around the coffee tables and couches.

“Alright. Get to it!�� Tony called out, excitement clear in his voice.

You stood up, turning to face the crowd. “Well, you know about the wings.” Your wings extended from your back with a woosh, spreading out before settling in a resting position.

You heard various mutterings as everyone took in your wings in their full glory. You then floated slightly above the floor, wings gently flapping to keep you suspended.

“How’s it feel birdman, her wings are part of her.” Bucky jested at Sam, a proud smile on his face.

“Yeah, well mine are bulletproof.” Sam sneered, a smile on his face.

“Actually,” you winced, “Mine can be bulletproof. Basically, I can do whatever I want, but only for short periods of time. Like if someone surprise shot me, it would hurt. But if I was prepared, it would bounce off.”

“Wow.” Steve looked at you, a mixture of surprise and wonder in his eyes.

“Um, I can also walk through walls, create shockwaves, move things with my mind, hack into any computer- although it takes some actual knowledge to not leave a trail... I mean, I’m pretty strong, but I don’t have much training for fighting hand to hand or anything. Oh, and mind manipulation? Not like mind control or anything, that is definitely frowned upon. Just... like earlier I made the Hydra agents forget the blueprints so they wouldn’t be able to get around the compound as quickly.”

Everyone jumped in with questions. You answered every single one, talking well into the night. You did your best to give examples of your powers, like moving the rubble around to fix the giant hole in the south side of the compound.

After a few hours, Bucky cut in. “Guys, she’ll still be here tomorrow. Wait, you will still be here, right?” He looked at you in a panic.

“Yes, unless you all want me gone, I’m here to stay.” You smile at them.

“Good. Now as I was saying, she’ll be here tomorrow. Ask her the rest of your questions then. Hell, make a list if you want. Just let me take my best girl to bed.” Bucky pulled you up from the couch, leading you out of the room.

“Goodnight!” You called back to the team before turning to Bucky. “What did I say about being your best girl?” You playfully hit his side.

He pulled you into his arms, hugging you while you waited for the elevator. “I’m sorry. My only girl.”

“That’s better.”

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #avengers x reader #marvel fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes one shot #marvel #mcu

617 notes · View notes

duuhrayliegh · 3 years

Text

my hero - request

request: anon: hi could you write a sebastian x female reader fic where she suffers from anxiety and feels bad because of it but he comforts her and tells her there’s nothing wrong with her and how strong she is even though she has this disorder

pairing: sebastian stan x female!reader

warnings: self-esteem issues, anxiety, toxicity in the fandom, language?

a/n: hey nona! you weren’t super specific on what type of anxiety that you wanted to reader to have, so if this isn’t what you had in mind, lmk and i’ll write you another fic! other than that i hope you like it!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

check out my m.list

You and Seb met at a coffee shop in New York. It was totally cliche and seemed straight out of a storybook. You had somehow managed to spill coffee on that specimen of a man, and he was kind enough to let you pay for his dry cleaning. Your relationship didn’t grow until you ran into him again while you were at a bar with your friends. If he had any say in telling the story of how you met, he spotted you from across the smoky bar and he knew then and there that he had to get to know you. Truthfully, you liked his version, but the real one was just indescribable. It seemed, to you at least, that you were destined to be with this man. Seeing him twice in one week? Come on, that’s possible if you were in the small town you grew up in, but not New York.

You obviously had recognized him as an actor, but really you didn’t care. That’s what drew Sebastian to you in the first place. You treated him as if he was any other guy on the street, he was able to be a normal person around you. Now, two years later, you lounge on the couch of your apartment in LA that you shared with the man you love. He’s still auditioning for any role that catches his eye and you’re supporting him no matter what.

His fans for the most part adored you and your relationship with Sebastian. The fans who didn’t like you were your only issue with this whole affair, but they had nothing to do with Sebastian other than flood his socials with nasty messages about you. You weren’t perfect, that you knew all too well, and you tried to let the comments roll off your shoulders. Most of the time you were successful in your efforts, but other times they clung to your skin like an unwanted disease.

Sebastian was currently promoting his new project Endings, Beginnings. You were so unbelievably proud of Seb, he was doing something that made him happy. In this particular film, he was acting alongside Shailene Woodley, who was just amazing. Seb always came home gushing about the new inside jokes that they had come up with. One of your favorite things that Seb did with you was run lines. You liked having the inside scoop on his new works, but this one was harder for you. It had quite a few sex scenes between Seb’s character Frank and Shailene’s Daphne.

Not that it bothered you. Nope. Didn’t bother you. At all.

...mmm, okay maybe it bugged you a little. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sebastian, it was… well you couldn’t really describe what it was. Whatever the case may be, it was putting you deeper and deeper into a funk, one that you were having a hard time coming out of. And Seb’s fans who weren’t in your corner, weren’t really helping you any.

A few nights ago, Seb surprised you with a casual night out in LA. He texted you before he got home and told you that he was going to be taking you out. Did he give you a dress code for the evening? No, he did not (wonderful, thanks so much Seb). You decided to dress in a half business casual, half rail me when we get home outfit. You ended up wearing an adorable bustier top that was embroidered with pretty blue and pink flowers, a pair of destroyed jeans covered your legs. You finished it off with a pair of nude heels, when you looked in the mirror, you thought you looked hot as fuck. It was around seven when Seb picked you up, mouth hanging open, in awe of your outfit.

“Oh my god. You look so beautiful, Y/N.” He opened the passenger door of his car after he hugged you, giving you a small peck on the lips. Sebastian drove you to a restaurant a block off of Thai Town called Home Restaurant.

“Babe, this place is so cute!” You squeezed Sebastian’s upper arm, jumping up and down beside him. “How’d you find this place?” Sebastian shook his head, smiling at you.

“I asked Shai, actually.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, and your heart sank a little. Why did it do that? “She said that the paps hardly ever come around here.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your temple. “I thought that draga mea deserved a quiet night out on the town.” His voice rasped as he spoke in his native tongue, making a shiver race down your spine.

“Well, tell her I said thank you.” You offered him a small smile. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing circles on the exposed skin above your jeans. He spoke with the hostess as your mind drifted away. You were pulled out of your thoughts when he guided you to your table. Sebastian sat across from you, staring deeply into your eyes. You brought your hand up to rest your chin on it, staring back at him. “How’s everything been going?” You were genuinely interested in the answer and it made your heart warm watching his face light up.

“It’s been going really well. Everyone we worked with was real nice, it made all the scenes more comfortable.” Seb’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the scenes and you knew which ones he was referring to.

“Oh, right.” You tried not to let your emotions show.

“Yeah, we’re about to start teasing some of them to promote the show.” Seb sighed at the thought of having to use social media, you shook your head at him.

“I’ll help you with it, you dork.” You laughed to hide your discomfort. “Which scene did they approve for the posts?” Sebastian began to speak when he was interrupted by your waitress. After the two of you ordered your food, the waitress returned with your drinks. Sebastian took a large gulp of his before answering your previous question.

“They want me to post the trailer and then the scene between Frank and Daphne at the bar.” You tried to think back to the script, remembering the context. Frank and Daphne were meeting after Daphne had gone out on a date with Jack. Daphne was claiming that she didn’t want to be a wedge in their friendship, then proceeded to make out with Frank. If you were recalling correctly, Frank and Daphne’s first sex scene followed soon after.

“Okay, we can do that. Do you have any behind the scene pictures you wanna post too?” Seb got out his phone, scrolling through his camera roll to see. He had several different photos of him with Jamie and then him with Shailene. He showed you his phone on a picture of Shailene leaned against him on a couch, her arm over his waist. A red filter colored the photo, you had to hand it to him, it was a good one to use. “We can post it whenever we get home, love.” Sebastian locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, to focus solely on you.

“How has your day been, draga mea?” You bit your lip as you thought about what you’ve been doing. You’ve been working towards your Master’s, so your days have been filled with preparing for your dissertation. On top of that, you’ve become a bit of an influencer on different social media platforms. Really, you believe your popularity came from your relationship with Sebastian. You’ve been giving his fans the content that they’ve always wanted. Not only that, but you’re active with them.

“My day was good today. I had to edit a few papers from my other classmates but other than that I didn’t do much. I did make a few TikTok videos, but really today was a bit of a lounge day for me.” Seb smiled at you, proud of how hard you’ve been working.

“I should be getting a few days off soon, so we can relax together in the apartment, if you aren’t too busy with your classes.” He stretched his arm across the table, palm up waiting for your hand. Seb pulled your hand up to his mouth, placing a sloppy kiss onto the back of it. His eyes settled on you lovingly. To Sebastian, you were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

The two of you managed to finish your meal in peace. No fans came up to Sebastian asking for photos, no paparazzi swarms when you left, just a quiet meal for a normal couple in love. After you got home and you were snuggled in your pajamas alongside Sebastian in your comfortable bed, he handed you his phone to read over his post for his Instagram. The paragraph was sappy, about his time working with Drake, the director, and working with the rest of the cast. Seb always was a softy, never was able to hide it, especially in promo posts.

“It looks good to me. Are you going to post it now? Or wait until tomorrow morning?” Seb debated, he probably should wait and do it tomorrow, but he was most likely going to forget to do it. He clicked post, putting his phone on charge and snuggling into you.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Y/N.” He kissed your jawline, nuzzling his face into your neck. “It really means a lot to me, baby. I love you so much.” He wrapped both hands around your waist, pulling you to his front. You smiled wide, momentarily forgetting all of your troubles.

“I love you too, Seb.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get some sleep, love.” Little did you know that a single post could ruin all of the progress that you thought you had made.

*********************

You woke the next morning, alone in bed. You could hear pots clanging in the kitchen of your home, bringing a smile to your face. Before you left the safety of your bed, you checked your socials out of habit. You opened Instagram first, seeing an absurd amount of notifications this early in the morning. Your smile dropped as soon as you opened the first post. Comments on Sebastian’s post about Endings, Beginnings and his chemistry with Shailene weren’t entirely out of the ordinary. They were to be expected, they were playing parts in a love triangle. People were ‘shipping’ Shailene with Seb and Jamie, so that wasn’t too crazy.

What hurt you were the comments saying, “living for shailene and sebastian! she’s a much better match for him than y/n.”

“never thought that y/n girl was going to last, glad he’s going w shailene”

“shailene and seb supremacy”

“yes! i’ve always supported seb in everything he’s done, but i rlly questioned him when he got w that y/n girl. what was he thinking?!”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you continued scrolling. You never thought you and Sebastian never fit. You knew that people had issues with your relationship, but you never let it get in your head this bad. You checked your explore page, pictures of you and Sebastian from last night were riddling the page.

Your heart dropped.

There were pictures of the two of you from last night with parts of your body circled. The exposed skin above your waistband, the excess skin on your neck and arms. You don’t know where they got these pictures, but your stomach was steadily sinking with each picture you saw. The door of your room opened, revealing a smiley Sebastian with a plate full of eggs in one hand and a cup of orange juice in the other.

“Good morning, baby.” You quickly shoved your phone away from you, wiping your tears away from your eyes to meet his. His brows furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You snuffled quietly, before answering.

“Uh, nothing. I’m just so proud of you.” You smiled at him, not wanting to bring down his already happy mood with your problems. Was that entirely healthy? Probably not, but you were doing it anyway, consequences be damned.

“Oh, well you don’t have to cry for me, Y/N. Even if you’re proud.” He walked up to your side of the bed, placing the cup and plate on your nightstand. He brought his hand up to your cheeks, wiping away your tear streaks. “You know that I only like to see tears whenever it’s me causing you so much pleasure you beg me to stop.” He winked at you, smirking at your rising blush. To say that didn’t lift your spirits for about half a second would be a lie. Sebastian brought the plate to your lap, waiting for you to start eating. At this particular moment, after seeing all those horrible pictures of your body, your appetite had gone out the window, but he was so smiley.

“After you eat, I want ya to shower.” Sebastian’s hand came up to your jaw, cupping it as you used it to chew the eggs. “We’ve got a long day of lounging and enjoying each other's company ahead of us.” Sebastian stood from the bed, throwing a wink at you as he left the room dramatically. You stopped eating soon after he left, the food tasting like ash on your tongue. At some point, you got into the bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror.

Your phone was in your hand again. The pictures flooding your Twitter feed. Shaky breaths left your mouth as you watched your reflection tilt its head. Tears began gathering in your eyes as it felt like you weren’t in your own skin anymore. You had worked so hard to be comfortable in your own body.

It’s amazing how just one picture can ruin everything.

You leaned forward on the countertop, hands holding up your weight. You shifted towards the mirror, examining every miniscule detail that your eyes could see. Your lids came down quickly, tears dragging down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed, shaking your head back and forth.

“You are not going to let this get to you.” You took a few deep breaths as you turned on the shower. Not wanting to be around the mirror anymore, you kept your bath short, talking to yourself the whole time. By the time you left the bathroom, it was steamed completely, you couldn’t see your reflection even if you wanted to.

“He loves you.” You had a mantra and you continued to repeat it as you walked into your shared closet. “He loves all of you.” You pulled one of his old t-shirts off a hanger. “Sebastian loves you.” A pair of your underwear and his loose boxers covered your lower half. “Sebastian loves all of you.” You shoved your feet into a pair of fuzzy pink socks, leaving the closet still muttering to yourself. You tucked your phone into your waistband after checking your socials again. You know you shouldn’t have, but there was some part of you that just wouldn’t let you not.

The same shit covered your For You page on TikTok. Videos from the trailer of Seb and Shailene and then videos of you and Seb, comparing the two relationships. “They do fit well together.” You thought to yourself. A part of you wondering why Seb was with you in the first place.

“Did you say something, love?” Sebastian looked at you from the couch. A blanket was strewn over his lower half, his upper body inviting, waiting for you to join him. His smile dropped when he took in your glassy eyes instead of your usual happy expression.

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He started towards you, eyes running over your body for any outward injuries. An understanding look crossed his face when he saw your phone clutched in your hand. “Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Sebastian’s hands rested on your shoulders, lightly caressing your biceps. You recoiled from his touch, feeling uncomfortable in your own body.

“Just some stuff that some fans posted.” Seb’s thumb traced just under your eye, wiping away the tears. He held his right hand out for your phone, to understand what you were talking about. His brows furrowed deeply as he scrolled, not fully processing how destructive his fans could be. Sebastian always believed that they were the best fucking people in the world. He knew that they could be mean, but this was something else.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about, Y/N.” Sebastian’s voice was firm. It was almost strong enough to cut through the fog invading your brain, but not quite. You had officially zoned out. Dead to the world. Lost in your own thoughts. No matter how destructive those thoughts may be.

Sebastian noticed that you were already too deep, having experienced this with you many times before. He was aware that you were self-conscious, insecure, however you want to describe it. Your anxiety always got worse when you were stressed. Prepping for your dissertation was definitely a stressful time. Add on top of that, Sebastian was constantly pulling you from your work for various reasons. Had he contributed to this? Scratch that thought, he didn’t have time for that. He needed to bring you back down to Earth, back to him.

“Y/N.” His hands hovered over your hips. “I’m going to touch you for a second.” He directed you to the couch, settling on the coffee table in front of you. His fingers lightly traced circles onto your knees, as he assessed how he should approach this.

“Y/N. Baby?” Sebastian hesitated before bringing his fingers up to your chin, not wanting you to react badly. “I’m right here, Y/N, it’s Sebastian.” His left hand hadn’t left your knee, continuing to trace small patterns into your skin, giving you something to ground yourself with. He watched you blink and swallow harshly, inhaling sharply before opening your mouth.

“Why are you with me?” Your chin trembled with unvoiced sobs. “You deserve the world, Seb. I’m not even--” Your sentence was cut off by a loud whimper causing tears to start streak down. Sebastian wasn’t sure if this was a situation where you wanted him to be involved, so he waited for a sign.

“I’m not even worth a glance from you.” Your hand came up to wipe at your runny nose. “They’re so right. You need to be with someone like Shailene.” A bitter sob racked your body, making your body fold in half. Sebastian caught you before you hurt yourself.

“Y/N. I love you.” He always heard you say that to yourself when you thought he wasn’t listening. He knew that you suffered from anxiety, so he was always watching. Always paying attention to your little cues. The little things that he could use to help you as much as he could. “I love all of you.” He held one of your hands, running his thumb over the back of it.

“I don’t care what they say, baby.” He lifted your face to his, steel blue eyes locking with your cloudy pair. “I picked you.” He pecked your right cheek. “I want you.” A peck to your left. “I want only you.” One to your forehead. “It’s always been you, Y/N.” Another on your chin. “I love all of you, Y/N.” Sebastian landed a final short kiss to your lips, lingering for only a second.

“I want you to understand something, Y/N.” His gaze never left you. “I’m not going anywhere.” His brows raised as he hardened his voice. “I’m especially not going anywhere at the behest of my fans. I love them to death, but they don’t get to decide who I love.” Sebastian shifted to sit next to you on the couch. “Is it okay if I put my arms around you?” All he got was a brief nod in return, which was expected.

“I’m yours, Y/N. As much as you’re mine.” His arms descended around you, wrapping you in a loving embrace. You turned to face him fully, bringing your own arms around his waist, shoving your head into his neck.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all my shit, Seb.” Sebastian almost missed your comment because you spoke into his shoulder and through loud snuffles. He backed away to look you in the face.

“I signed up for this, Y/N. I’m here for whatever we go through.” He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “We go through ‘your shit’ together, Y/N. This is a partnership, a two-way street.” He looked at the weak smile on your face, heart warming slightly at the sight. His face turned serious, casting a glance at your phone on the coffee table.

“How long have you been sitting on this?” He knew how quickly your mind could twist things, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. You bit your lip, not meeting his eyes anymore.

“Just since this morning.” He held you away from his body, watching your expression.

“Is this why you were crying earlier?” You gave him a meek nod in response. “Baby, I thought we talked about this. We have to talk to each other when we think we’re going to go into a funk.” The two of you had talked about it before, but you didn’t think this was going to be a funk.

“I should’ve been able to just shake this off because I know you love me and you won’t leave me because of something that some people on the Internet say.” The words left your mouth before you could process everything, your mind quick to defend itself.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t always have to be able to shake something off. We just have to keep each other in the loop.” Sebastian looked over your tear-stained face, pressing a kiss to your forehead again. “Let’s ditch the phones today. Just spend the day in each other’s arms, how’s that sound?” You smiled softly, nodding at the man in front of you. He got up quickly hiding both of your phones in the kitchen somewhere.

This definitely wasn’t a solution to dealing with your anxiety, Sebastian knew that. It also wasn’t dealing with the toxic people on the Internet, but you didn’t need that right now. You needed to be immersed in an environment that accepted what you were going through without judgement, Sebastian could provide that. Seb hummed happily when you snuggled into his side under the covers on your couch while he searched for a movie. He kissed the top of your head and he felt you smile against his stomach.

“I’m proud of you, draga mea.” You turned to face him, a confused expression lacing your features.

“For what, Seb?” He stroked your face with a single finger, mapping out your features.

“I’m proud of how you handle yourself. I’m amazed at how strong you are, even when you think you’re not.” He leaned closer to you, whispering his next words. “You’re my hero.” One corner of your mouth twitched upwards, not wanting to accept it. You rolled your eyes playfully, settling back onto his stomach before speaking.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

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givemetherapyimawritingtravesty · 3 years

Note

hey there! i had a fic request (no pressure, ofc) in honor of disability pride month for a cubs fic where leo or finn has anxiety or adhd? if you don't feel comfortable writing it pls don't but if you do i think your take would be really interesting (if you have any other disability you want to write about take this as blanket inspiration to do so!)

Okay so YES I love this, thank you!

TW: for mental illnesses / disability talk before we go any further.

SO I actually head canon Leo with anxiety and maybe an eating disorder, Logan with some depression, and Finn with ADHD. It’s also kinda cannon that Finn hates clothes and I hc him with maybe some sensory issues? Is it me projecting? Maybe. That being said, this is written from my own experiences and does not mean that’s how it is for everyone. But I do love the representation and please please PLEASE be careful reading if this hits too close to home.

Okay, as I partially reread this to proof it (and did so terribly, sorry lol) I think I wrote something spookily similar not terribly long ago… aaaaannd yep, I just looked but it was about Sirius. Bad Habits Die Hard linked here in case you’re in the mood for more angst with a bit of comforting floof. And ope wait, there’s another with Leo hiding he’s sick here. Looks like I have a thing for sad writing, but I find it cathartic.

Also, I’m sorry this took forever! I was so happy about the prompt but I wanted to get it right so this took several writing sessions and I’m still not 100% on it and it ended abruptly but eh oh well, I wanted to get this out before the end of Disability Pride Month!

Also, HAPPY DISABILITY PRIDE MONTH Y’ALL!

Credit for these boys, as always to the amazing @lumosinlove !!

Leo was having a rough go of it; his boys could tell. He always seemed on edge lately and wasn’t eating much. All Leo ate was the same three things, cereal, pizza, and pasta. Not meat, nothing he had never tried before, and anything crunchy and snacky offered to him was met with a solid “No”.

Every time his boys asked, he said he was fine, and they weren’t sure how to help him or what even was wrong. It was starting to create some tension between the three. His boys only wanted to help him and Leo kept shutting them out.

This morning Leo defaulted to his bowl of Cheerios after hardly having anything for dinner. Of course, his boys had noticed he was off and tried to bring it up with him while they were getting ready for practice.

“Hey, Le?” Finn asked tentatively.

“Hmm?” Leo responded, busy pulling a hoodie over his faded Lions tee.

“Are you, uh… sure you’re up for practice? Today?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You…” Logan jumped into the conversation, “You just seem a little… off, is all.” He said, coming up behind his younger boyfriend, trying to wrap his arms around Leo’s waist.

Leo only shrugged him off, moving to sit on their bed to but his socks on. “I’, fine. Just a bit tired, I guess.” He sounded a bit irritated.

“Not sleeping well?” Finn offered, sitting down next to him, arm moving to rub Leo’s back.

Leo shot up from the bed, again avoiding his boyfriends’ touch. “Yeah. I guess. Can we go? We’ll be late.”

Finn and Logan shared a concerned look as Leo left the bedroom.

“We need to talk to him. Or… Get him to talk to us. Why won’t he talk to us, Lo?”

Logan moved to sit on the bed next to Finn and wrap him up in a hug. “I don’t know. Let’s just get though practice and see if we can talk to him tonight. Or maybe we get Cap to talk to him. He messaged me after practice yesterday asking what was Leo’s deal after he nearly walked out of practice.”

“Cap asked? What’d you tell him?” Finn asked, pulling away to sit up and take a composing breath.

“I told him Leo’s just been off, and that we’d talk to him… And that we may need his help? It’s just, we haven’t been able to get him to talk to us all week, and I, I don’t know. If he won’t talk to us, maybe Cap will know what to say to get him to open up.”

“No, I think that was a good call. If he won’t talk to us, he should talk to someone. Come on, lets get our shoes on and out the door before he decided to walk to the rink, again.”

***

Leo seemed to loosen up a bit at practice. He still kept ducking away from anyone trying to touch him, which everyone started to notice, and Talker even sent a raised eyebrow look to Finn and Logan, who only responded with shrugs and apologetic sad smiles.

After warm-ups, Coach split everyone up into two teams for a scrimmage game. Leo ended up on Logan’s team, along with Cap. Leo was in goal for all of ten minutes and had already let in three goals.

“Nutty, get your head in the game. Or, ya know, keep letting me score, I’m good with that.” Talker joked, after scoring again, skating away backwards towards Finn near center ice. Leo stood up from his goal, pulling his helmet off. He started to turn around to get a drink from his water bottle and wobbled on his skates a little.

“Leo? You alright man?” Talker asked.

“Yeah,” Leo said, closing his eyes and turning back around, still looking a little unsure on his skates, “I’m… fine-” Leo whispered out as he seemed to get really dizzy, then collapsed in front of his goal.

His boys were there in no time, sitting him up and trying to hand him his water bottle, telling him to drink, and breath.

Cap skated over, taking a knee by them as the rest of the team gave them some space.

“Alright, Nut, what’s going on. First yesterday and now this.”

“He just hasn’t been sleeping-” Finn tried to explain but was cut off by Sirius.

“No, Finn. I asked him. What’s the matter? Don’t think this entire team hasn’t noticed you being off all week, and then you go and collapse? Non. That’s not okay, Leo. I know I don’t have the authority to bench you, but I think Coach would back me up on this. Get it together. I don’t care if you need to sleep for two days straight, or get laid, eat cake, or talk to Heather. Talk to your boys, they care and I can see you’re icing them out. Just… I don’t mean to scold you, Nut, but you haven’t been you lately and we need you on the ice at a hundred percent for the Habs game next week, yeah?”

Despite the light scolding, Sirius’ eyes were incredibly patient and caring. He gave Leo a few pats on the shoulder as he got up.

“Why don’t you guys get him off the ice for the day.” Sirius said, skating back to the team, no doubt telling them something to the effect of, he’s fine, just didn’t sleep well, because Cap was nothing if not one to keep the drama out of it.

Leo’s boys helped him back to the locker room in silence. Once the heavy door fell shut behind them, Leo broke down crying.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just can’t. I’m sorry.” Leo wheezed out between sobs.

Finn and Logan helped guide him to the floor and sat on either side of him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Peanut.” Finn soothed him, brushing the hair out of his face. “Just… trust us. What’s going on with you, Le?”

“I…” Leo gasped out. His boys just held him. Eventually, his sobs subsided and the moved to get in a quick shower before heading home. Leo stayed under the hot spray by himself after his boys left to get dressed. He just needed some time to himself to collect his thoughts and figure out how to explain everything he was feeling… and he was feeling a lot.

Leo left the warm embrace of the steamy shower to get dressed slowly, in minimal clothing. Basketball shorts, sans boxers, and a muscle tank. He just… couldn’t handle the feeling of clothes, they all just seemed too itchy.

Sure, he was a little cold for the ride home but as soon as they got into the apartment, Leo found their softest throw banket and wrapped himself up and tucked himself in the corner of their sectional.

“Cold, Peanut?” Logan laughed, as he moved to sit next to his younger boyfriend and open his arms in an invitation to cuddle.

Leo leaned into him as Finn brought some water bottles from the kitchen. “So, what do we want for dinner?”

“Pasta.” Leo mumbled into Logan’s shoulder.

“Again? You sure, Le?” Finn asked, settling down on Logan’s other side.

“Can’t eat anything else.” Leo continued to mumble his responses into Logan’s shoulder.

“Why is that, sweetheart?” Finn asked, voice soft.

He was being incredibly patient, and Leo couldn’t stand it. He stood up suddenly, blanket still draped around his shoulders, and started pacing in front of his boys.

“Why? You’re not even going to fight me on this? Aren’t you sick of it? Of me? Cause I’m sick of it! Sick of all my clothes being just this side of too stiff and itchy, the texture of food being off-putting, and always alwaysworrying about everything and feeling too much and like everything around he in drowning me and I can’t breathe. I…” Leo stopped pacing and sank to his knees on the floor, crying now. “I… it’s all overwhelming and I don’t know what to do to make it stop.”

“Oh Nutty, baby.” Finn moved to kneel by the younger boy. “Hey, it’s alright. The weight of the world is not on your shoulders. I know it seems like it is, but it isn’t.”

“B- But-” Leo tried to stuttered out.

Logan moved to join them on the floor. “Non, mon amour, no buts. It’s not on you.”

“There’s just,” Leo hiccupped, “Just a lot. Hockey and you guys, and my ma and dad back home, and I just miss them. And there’s all this pressure to be good and I just don’t know how to haddle it all right now.”

“Hey, shh, can I hold you?” Finn offered his arms.

“Please.” Leo said, falling into Finn’s arms.

Logan moved to wrap them both up in a hug, where they stayed for a few quiet minutes.

Eventually, Leo just whispered, “I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart. We’ll help you.” Finn whispered back. “And I think we should start with Lo giving you cuddles on the couch, it’ll be much more comfy than the floor, and I’ll make pasta. AND before you give me any lip, I am at least capable of boiling water, sir, thank you very much.:

That seemed to startle a chuckle out of Leo and he nodded. The two younger boys moved to curl up together on the couch as Finn went to the kitchen to start dinner.

After they had eaten and gotten ready for the night, the three boys got into bed, Leo claiming Logan’s coveted middle spot. They settled in, limbs tangled, and breathing in tandem until they were nearly asleep.

“I think…” Leo whispered. “I think I should do what Sirius said.”

“Which one? Get laid? Because that can be arranged.” Finn joked.

“I mean, that too. But I mean I think I should talk to Heather. Maybe she could help. I don’t know.”

“You know we’ll support you, Le.” Logan piped up. “Whatever we can do. And… I mean I saw her my first year with the team. I still think I should go again but, I don’t know. I… Didn’t want you guys to think that it wasn’t something you could help with, because you do help, more than you know, but… I don’t know. I’m just tired.”

“Lo’s right we’re here for you. We’re a team, yeah?”

The other two nodded in agreement and curled up for the night, surrounded by each other and knowing that whatever struggles tomorrow brought, they would face them together.

#oknutzy #sweater weather lumosinlove #coast to coast lumosinlove #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #sirius black #heather #o'knutzy #disability pride month #anxiety #depression

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keichanz · 3 years

Text

Mistake

kay so i really don't care if some of this doesn't make sense because this is the first thing i've written in a while that i don't absolutely hate. well this version at least. ending up scraping the first draft because it just seemed wrong and went in a different direction. im glad i did cause im happy with it.

anyway i realize that this may not get much feedback because i took a different approach to it, aka the entire pov is from an OC but i can't bring myself to care too much because i wrote this purely for myself. got inspired, started writing, and i actually liked the content i was writing. end of.

btw the oc doesn't refer to inuyasha as a half-demon because he's unaware he is one and i was too lazy to delve into those waters anyhow.

also for the sake of this oneshot pls dont look too closely at the ranks of diplomat and ambassador. i was too lazy to put much research regarding positions of power so just...go with it.

inspired by @stillunderyourbed's art that can be found here.

It was…quaint. Smaller than what he'd expected. The housing structures looked subpar, there didn't appear to be any wooden walkways, and he could detect the distinct odor or fish in the air with hints of manure. There even seemed to be a perpetual dust cloud hovering at about waist high, thickening from the numerous carts, wagons, horses, and villagers kicking up dirt as they went about their daily lives. Already he felt like there was a layer of dust caked on the inside of his lungs and he wasn't even inside yet.

All in all, it was your typical countryside village, home to simple folk that made a living off of fishing, farming, and trade. The diplomat sneered in disgust. For being the rumored home of the creature strong enough to destroy the despicable Naraku, the village was…less than impressive. And to say that he was underwhelmed would be a vast understatement.

Shifting atop his mount, a chestnut gelding that had been his faithful companion for the last four years, Takeji frowned as he surveyed the sight before him. It was early afternoon, so men were out working in the fields, women were chatting amongst themselves as they laundered clothing at the river, and children were running about, playing and laughing while dogs barked at their heels. He could see the great red torii gate and the stone staircase that led to the shrine and he could hardly refrain from rolling his eyes.

The village was obviously poor, possibly even teetering on the edge of poverty, and instead of feeding themselves for a good long while, they decided to construct that monstrosity. He would never understand the minds of simple common folk. Daft. All of them.

Barely keeping himself from scowling, Takeji reluctantly climbed off his mount and forced himself to move forward into the pathetic excuse for a village. Already he knew he would have to burn his expensive attire; there would be no getting the dust and stench out of it after his ghastly visit. A visit he had not wanted to make, but being a highly revered and prestigious diplomat, it was his duty to travel to far off lands in hopes of establishing a profitable relationship that would ultimately benefit his homeland.

Although, looking around and fighting against the urge to retch at both the nauseating stench and the mere sight of all the unwashed villagers milling around, Takeji wondered not for the first time why he even bothered to accept this task. True, it was said the slayer of Naraku did hail from here, but surely having his homeland associated with this hovel would garner nothing but loss. So why had he agreed to come?

Oh, yes, he mused, grimacing as he stepped over a large manure pile right in the middle of the road. Because apparently, being all chummy with the nation's hero will allow us to have him at our beck and call, because who doesn't want a powerful demon capable of slaying the most evil demon in all of existence as an intimidating presence during negotiations, and let's not forget he alone would be equal to about one hundred soldiers in battle.

Rolling his eyes, Takeji tied his mount to a hitching post, withdrew his satchel with all the necessary paperwork, and set about finding this Inuyasha fellow. He'd been told the demon wore scarlet robes, carried a sword at his hip, and had white hair so no doubt he would stick out like a sore thumb amongst the droll browns and grays of the common folk, which suited him just fine. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could leave because there was no way he was staying even a second more in this village than he had to. Even if the next inn was hours away, he'd make the journey; the inn here was probably as unclean and riddled with bed bugs or something. Ugh. How vile.

Shrugging the satchel over his shoulder, Takeji bit back a groan, sighed, and hadn't even made it a single step before the sound of screaming froze him in his tracks. He gasped and immediately started looking for the danger, body tense, preparing to hop back onto his steed lightning fast and make a hasty getaway.

But as he looked around with wide eyes and a frantically beating heart, Takeji couldn't help but notice that he was the only one that appeared to have heard the sound of terror. The villagers were just continuing to go about their day, calm as you please, either severely deaf or completely uncaring. Takeji was beginning to wonder if he was perhaps hearing things when it happened again, a high-pitched sound that he realized with dread belonged to a child.

Takeji gaped. A child was in danger and nobody cared?! What kind of village was this?! Another shriek pierced the air, and Takeji made a decision. Very well; if these imbeciles weren't going to do anything about it, then he himself would see to the danger. While by no means a swordsman or warrior, he did have some weapons training he could fall back on for this precise reason. Traveling alone was dangerous, and you never knew what you would encounter.

Resolved, the diplomat set his jaw, unsheathed the dagger at his waist, and darted toward the direction the screams were coming from. He meandered between houses, hoped over lazing dogs, dodged startled villagers in his path, and he came into a small clearing by the forest's edge. The sight that greeted him was…not what he expected.

Coming up short, Takeji watched with a befuddled frown as one child chased around two other, slightly older looking children. One might think they were playing a game of sorts, and the diplomat started to believe that was indeed the case…until the one doing the chasing, clad in red, suddenly jumped high into the air, over the heads of the other two children, and landed before them with hands raised.

Hands, Takeji noticed with growing dread and disgust, tipped with claws on each finger and he quickly realized what exactly was happening. That wicked little demon brat, that creature was toying with those helpless children! It was keeping them trapped, preventing them from running away by leaping over their heads and blocking their route of escape! They screamed, the demon child laughed, and so potent was his fury, so enraged was he for the fact that the villagers apparently did not care about what was happening right beneath their noses, Takeji failed to notice the wide smiles on all three of the young one's faces. The blood pounding in his ears prevented him from hearing the gleeful giggles as the two human kids scrambled away from the one clad in red, and without another thought, Takeji moved.

"Run, children!" Takeji ordered as he hurled himself into the clearing, dagger raised as he charged toward the demon brat with a baleful glare. "I will take care of his filthy animal!"

All three children froze in place, eyes wide as Takeji inserted himself between the two human children - twin girls, he idly noted - and the demon spawn that dared raised its claws toward them. The brat stared up at him with big brown eyes and it - she - actually looked confused. Takeji scowled. He would not fall for such a ploy.

"I will not allow you to harm them," he spat and pointed his dagger at her. The child blinked at him and then looked behind him at the two girls who still had not taken the chance to flee. In shock, perhaps? Stunned? No matter; they were safe, so long as he stood between them and the threat.

The demon child made a face and started to walk around him, completely disregarding the weapon trained on her, but Takeji shifted and stopped her once more. He heard the two behind him whispering as the spawn looked up at him once again, this time frowning at him with narrowed eyes. And was that a growl he heard? He snorted. Was she actually trying to appear threatening? Pathetic.

Scowling, Takeji lifted a foot, placed it on her stomach, and shoved. The demon gasped as she stumbled back and then landed on her behind with a small grunt. He heard a gasp from behind him, urgent whispering, and then hurried scrambling. A glance over his shoulder told him they'd finally gotten wise and ran away. He nodded. Good. Now he could deal with this vermin without innocent eyes to bear witness.

But as he stared down at the pathetic sight before him, Takeji wondered maybe if such measures would even be necessary. The beast was still lying where she had fallen and was staring up at him with wide eyes brimming with…wait. What? Were those tears? Oh, you have got to be joking.

Rolling his eyes, the diplomat scoffed at the pathetic play for mercy and careless waved his dagger at her. The child actually flinched and followed the blade with her gaze, wariness clear in her eyes. Well. It appeared her self-preservation instincts have finally kicked in.

"Cease your theatrics," Takeji drawled, unimpressed. "They do not fool me. Now lucky for you, demon spawn, the pathetic sight you project has made me decide to spare your life. Your tainted blood is not worthy enough to soil my blade, so I will say this only one and you would do well to heed this warning, beast."

Hardening his stare and curling his lip into a sneer, Takeji spat, "Leave this place at once and do not return. There is no place for the likes of you, an abomination that preys on helpless children. Now get out of my sight, afore I kill you on principle. Your vile presence disgusts me."

The child grunted and Takeji watched, stone faced, as she got to her feet. Then to his surprise the little demon balled her hands into fists at her sides and glared at him, but the effect was ruined by the tears he could clearly see brimming her eyes. He cocked a brow, unmoved. She sniffled once, twice, and then to his utter surprise and bafflement, her face suddenly crumbled, her lower lip trembled, and she promptly burst into loud tears before spinning on her heel and running away.

"P-Papaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Takeji frowned. Papa? Were the brat's kin nearby, then? Body tense and weapon raised, he waited, prepared to either fight or flee - because he wasn't a fool and knew when he was in over his head - but when no demons came bursting out of the tree line, Takeji slowly relaxed.

Bewildered and more than a little annoyed at the whole debacle - what a waste of time! - the diplomat scoffed in derision as he turned to watch the little demon brat scurry away. And then right at that exact moment, a figure donned in red dropped to the ground seemingly out of nowhere and Takeji felt a wave of relief sweep through him. Finally! This had to be his demon quarry.

Nodding, Takeji stepped forward and opened his mouth to call out a greeting—

And then froze in his tracks as the greeting abruptly died on his tongue. Because the little demon girl, the one he'd just pointed his weapon at and shoved to the ground, ran straight to the figure robed in red and Takeji could do naught but watch with a growing sense of horrified dread as the older demon knelt down to take the child into his arms.

All color promptly drained from his face and Takeji suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He glanced behind the pair and he was somehow not at all surprised to find the twin girls from earlier glaring at them and holding onto the skirts of their mother with a monk garbed in violet robes beside her. They too were staring at him in a not so friendly manner, but upon returning his gaze to the two demons, Takeji numbly thought that if looks could kill, he would surely be dead by now.

Because the demon robed in red - which was now unmistakably the child's father and none other than Inuyasha, the demon he'd come here for - was glaring absolute murder at him and it was obvious that he was. Not. Pleased.

Takeji swallowed and unconsciously backed up a step. With one small hand fisting her father's robes, the child had the other pointing an accusatory finger at him as she no doubt recited to him their earlier…ah, exchange. Inuyasha said nothing in response, but he didn't need to. The deep, nearly subsonic growl that erupted from his mouth, complete with fully bared fangs in a truly fearsome snarl, told him very clearly of his thoughts on his daughter's mistreatment by him.

Which, if Takeji had to guess, were not very Takeji-friendly. At all.

Somehow managing to fight against the urge to flee, Takeji swallowed hard as Inuyasha pushed to his feet and stalked toward him with that same murderous look on his face. Something told him, perhaps some deeply rooted self-preservation instinct, that if he even tried to run right then, it would not end well for him. So he remained where he was and tried valiantly to control the trembling in his body as he slowly, very slowly, tucked his dagger back from whence it came.

Inuyasha stopped in front of him and Takeji cleared his throat before attempting a placating smile, but it looked more like a grimace than anything. "Ah…I assume you are…In—"

One second Takeji was staring into the scowling features of one pissed off dog demon. The next there was a bright flash of light and then he was staring at the business end of a very large and very sharp sword. With the tip just a hair's breadth away from his nose, Takeji gasped sharply and stumbled back a step out of instinct.

Sweet merciful heavens! How—?

"Usually I'd ask who the fuck you are," the demon growled, his eyes twin slits of baleful gold. "But honestly, I can't really bring myself to care enough to know the name of the asshole who threatened my daughter when she was doing nothing but playing with her friends."

Takeji blanched for the second time and he could actually feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat. He fucked up. Oh dear god he'd fucked up so bad—

"There's—there's been a misunderstanding," Takeji tried in a voice higher than usual, raising his hands up in what he hoped was a placating gesture as he eyed the very sharp point of that blade. "I—I admit I've made a grave mistake—"

"Shut the fuck up and tell me why I shouldn't gut you where you stand," Inuyasha hissed, lips feeling back off his fangs in another fierce snarl. With his ears pinned back and those golden eyes glaring absolute death at him, the demon made quite the menacing picture. Takeji had the brief, if a bit ludicrous thought, that perhaps the demon Naraku perished from the sheer animosity that was coming off of the silver-haired demon in waves.

Swallowing once, twice, Takeji realized that he only had his quick wit to get him out of his certain predicament. So bracing himself, he opened his mouth—

"He's from the continent, Inuyasha. You can't hurt him."

Startled hazel eyes swung toward the source of the voice but amber eyes stayed locked on their target, the only acknowledgment of the voice a flick of an ear.

The owner of the voice the human diplomat could only presume was the child's mother, as the child in question was standing behind her legs and was actually smirking at him. He frowned.

"You're from Shenshi," the woman remarked and Takeji swung his gaze back to her. "Right?"

Though her expression wasn't openly friendly, it wasn't exactly unfriendly either, however the human diplomat still felt he needed to tread carefully. Because while her face didn't betray anything, her stare was hard and her mouth had tightened into a thin, flat line. She had one hand on her daughter's head while the other clutched a longbow, and belatedly he realized she had a quiver of arrows slung across her back. He barely held in a flinch as he realized this was one of the demon's companions that had assisted in slaying Naraku, possibly the young woman in which Inuyasha held a more meaningful relationship.

A much more meaningful relationship, if the child currently glaring daggers at him was anything to go by since she was more or less living proof of it.

Wonderful. So he'd gone and threatened the only child of two of the most powerful beings in Japan. Clearly he'd stepped over the wrong grave and pissed somebody off.

Clearing his throat and aiming a strained smile toward the woman who was still awaiting his reply, Takeji nodded once. "Ah, y-yes, my lady. I'm—"

"The diplomat Ambassador Sharaku sent to convince Inuyasha to join his ranks so he'd have the support and protection of 'The Great Slayer of Naraku.'" The woman raised a delicate brow at him. "How am I doing so far?"

Takeji had the good grace to look a mite sheepish. "Ah…well—"

"You can't kill him, Inuyasha," she repeated and Takeji thought she sounded disappointed. "If he goes missing, the ambassador will send his troops to find out what happened or if he returns injured, it could be taken as an insult and you can imagine what would happen after that. You would risk mine or Moroha's life like that, and you know it."

Inuyasha growled but said nothing to refute her words, so Takeji assumed he agreed.

"He threatened her, Kagome," the demon spat, inching the blade closer to his throat and Takeji flinched. "Called her a fucking animal, shoved her down, and waved a goddamn dagger in her face! You can't honestly expect me to let that—"

"Papa," the child - Moroha - suddenly said, successfully stalling her father's angry tirade. A quick glance revealed the girl, still sticking close to her mother, was staring at the older demon with big brown eyes, bright with the threat of tears as she worried her bottom lip. And evidently the sight was enough to calm the raging storm of Inuyasha's fury because he grimaced, released a low growl, and then Takeji watched in stunned amazement as the massive sword suddenly transformed into a rusty katana before it was sheathed at his hip.

With a weapon no longer at his throat, Takeji could breathe a little easier and he released a breath he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding. But then he sucked it right back in when Inuyasha suddenly stepped in close and got in his face, a low, threatening growl leaking past rightly clenched teeth bared in another snarl. Golden eyes bore into his own, filled with a lethal warning that had the human male's back straightening and his blood to run cold in his veins.

"You listen carefully, asshole," Inuyasha hissed, glaring so heatedly it was a wonder Takeji didn't burst into flame. "Don't you dare think that my wife's words have any sort of sway over my decision to spare your pathetic life. I'm not scared of your weakling ambassador and I sure as hell ain't scared of his little human army. No, the only reason that I let you live is because I don't want my daughter, the one you foolishly threatened when she had done nothing wrong, to see me sully my hands with your disgusting blood when I reduce you to nothing more than a bloody smear on the ground."

Takeji paled and swallowed thickly. That particular image was…not pleasant.

Inuyasha watched the color drain from his face. Satisfied, he sneered before saying in a growl filled with sinister promise, "Now get the fuck outta my village and if you ever touch my daughter again, I'll gut you so fast you won't even have time to fucking scream."

Then with that, Inuyasha leveled him with one last dark scowl before spinning on his heel and stalking away, a clear dismissal. Neither mother nor daughter even spared the frozen human male a glance as Inuyasha paused to pick his daughter up into his arms before striding away, his wife close to one side and his friends on the other.

From over his shoulder, Takeji could only watch in a mixture of shock and befuddlement as the little demon girl named Moroha smirked and then stuck her tongue out at him, safe and sound in her father's arms.

Left standing in a state of numb bewilderment, Takeji blinked, looked down at himself, and had the passing thought that it was a very good thing he'd decided to wear brown trousers that day.

#mistake #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha #inukag #moroha #oneshot #keizfanfiction #papayasha to the rescuuuuue #i deliberately did not tag anybody in this and no i will not say why #and yes i did use sharaku because it sounds like naraku #listen dont fuck with his wife or kid #you will die #if you dont understand that last sentence #tough shit im not explaining it lmao

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closetedotaku01 · 4 years

Note

Umm could you write something for Tsukishima, Kenma, Kuroo, Iwaizumi with fem! reader who is very touch starved? (if you don't write for that many just pick whoever stands out the most) SFW please.

TOUCH STARVED FEM S/O

A/N: First off: excellent character choices for this! Secondly, thank you so much for requesting so sweetly. Such a kind ask. Thank you thank you. Especially since none of my work is public yet, I really appreciate you trusting an unknown author. I hope you have a lovely day. Finally, I’ve struggled a lot with touch starvation so this feels very close to me. Got a bit self-indulgent. I felt bad because there was no dialogue in the base writing for Kenma & Tsukki so they kinda get HC+ while Iwa’s and Kuroo’s are just standard hc’s. Info on touch starvation at the end if you want it.

TSUKISHIMA KEI

-Tsukishima is smart and perceptive.

-So it doesn’t take long for him to realize that you’re touch starved.

-He sees how you simultaneously shy away from any physical affection while clearly wanting some. Sees how anxious you are and how easy it is for you to get overwhelmed. Takes note of how you alway seem to be holding yourself, and often wear clothes that are heavy and cover your whole body.

-He does not like the situation.

-He knows what you need, but he’s not big on physical affection and not very comfortable initiating it.

-But he is soft for you…. so he’ll pull it together just for you. He starts holding onto you more in public. An arm around your waist, your shoulders, his hand in yours, always giving you something.

-The first dozen or so times it happens you show clear panic at the touch, but he doesn’t even flinch. He’s confident with touching you, and wants you to know he’s here and you can do no wrong.

-When you two are alone together, he’ll pull you into him a lot more than he would have otherwise. He WILL pull you closer to him when you sit far away.

-But he can tell you’re just having a day where you cannot handle it and on days like that he always leaves his body open so you have the chance to cuddle him if you want it, but he makes his actions smaller and quicker so as not to overwhelm you.

-Eventually you start hugging him freely, and he reciprocates just enough. Your arms wrapped tight around his waist, and he lets his arms fall onto your shoulder. It’s hardly a hug, but he rubs your back and has a hand in your hair. It sends sweet tingles of happiness throughout your body.

-You hum lightly at the contact and it’ll force him to pull you in closer.

-Tsukki is very knowing. He encourages a safe and loving environment so you stop feeling afraid to ask for affection. He actually really enjoys when you’re needy, because he can get pretty needy too.

-And if you want to talk about your touch starvation, he’ll listen. But he’s fine just giving you what he can offer. He knows you and just wants you to feel more comfortable.

~~~~~

Your whole body is on edge and you don’t quite know why or how, but everything is setting you off. The blanket on your legs is sending fire-like shivers through your body, the heater keeps playing with your hair and it’s making everything feel warm inside you.

You look over to Kei, who’s just enjoying the film. You were the one who sat far away, though now you wish you were laying on him instead of curled up against the arm rest. But his arms and legs are open wide, and despite this he’s sat up pretty straight. You like being able to see his whole body so open. His face looks relaxed, and the blue light from the TV makes all of him… glow. His glasses, the prominent features of his face, his tousled locks, all lit up and beautiful as ever. It honestly just feels like more temptation, his whole body is open and glowing like a checkpoint in a videogame and you desperately feel the urge to just crawl into him.

Kei’s voice startles you, but he doesn’t even look away from the screen, “Are you going to come over here, or are you just going to stare all night?” You see him open his arms out wider and you jump at the chance. You curl yourself into his side, letting the scent of his body and the feel of him in your arms ease the anxiety, ease the ache for contact. He’s a bit cold so you pull your blanket over the both of you as you let your head fall to his chest, your arm thrown over his midsection, one of your legs thrown over one of his. You’re practically clinging onto him.

You feel panic well up in you at the contact. It’s too much contact and you shouldn’t be so desperate and--

Kei’s arm falls around your back, pulling you closer gently. He lets his fingers trace your spine up and down, up and down. Your mind relaxes. He lets his hand drift down as he starts rubbing small circles into your lower back, and your muscles lose their tension. You’re not clinging. You’re not desperate. You’re with Kei. And you’re wanted. You know he wouldn’t have you here, if he didn’t want you here. And everything eases. You return your eyes to the movie, but your attention is solely the steady cadence of his heart in your ear as he holds you.

Kozume Kenma

-Another basically wordless adjustment.

-Kenma is also very aware of you. Sees you as a challenge for him to understand and is always studying you and what makes you happy and how to cheer you up depending on what’s bothering you. He just loves to know you.

-And so it doesn’t take very long at all for him to figure it out.

-He notices your little movements. How you stare so intently at physical affection among others as if you wish you were apart of it. But you never ask for or initiate it.

-How when you do cuddle with him you get remarkably clingy and hold tight, but if he moves even slightly you pull away almost completely.

-His way of going about this is also pretty subtle.

-Kenma will start sitting with his legs open, and tell you to sit between them, and then he’ll put his head on your shoulder, wrap his arms around you, and play a game in front of you. It’s very much full body contact, without you feeling like you’re under scrutiny, and he’s holding you so you know he wants you there.

-He’s also sure to give you his jackets because he knows heavier clothing simulates human touch and helps people with touch starvation.

-When he sees you staring at people in public who’re being affectionate, and sees that want and confusion in your eyes, he’ll pull his hood down over his face (so he doesn’t have to deal with other people staring) and hold your hand. If he can see you need it, he’ll bring his body close to yours so you’re basically against each other, side by side.

-When you two go out to nice places with friends and he can see you getting touch starved he’ll place his hand in your lap and let you play with his fingers. Tracing his palm and up his forearms a bit. It actually relaxes his nerves a bit too and he learns to love this so much.

-If you ever bring it up he’ll listen, but he never really asks.

~~~~~

Kenma’s been on the floor playing Animal Crossing on the television since you arrived. You didn’t mind. You liked having lazy conversations with him about your day or his town, or scrolling through Instagram with the calming soundtrack in the background.

Like always he sat with his controller in hand as the game was projected on the TV, back against the bedpost, while you laid on the bed. But today is getting to you. You really want to feel his skin against yours, or steal the hoodie he’s wearing, or play with his hair. Anything would do. But you don’t want to come off clingy. Or worse to put Kenma off since you know he likes his distance.

He looks back at you and you give him a weak smile and he immediately stands up.

“Come here. I want to play Smash instead,” Kenma says as he pulls his switch out of the charger.

“I don’t really want to play right now Kenma. I’m pretty tired,” you say as you watch him change out the game cartridge and slip the controllers onto the side of the Switch.

“Just…. Come here, y/n,” he says almost exasperated as he returns to his spot on the floor near the bedpost. You sit down next to him and he immediately repositions himself behind you, and wraps his arms around you. He puts his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him before repositioning them around your arms, and placing his chin on your shoulder.

You’re immediately overwhelmed by the feeling of him. The way his body encases you. You feel safe and filled, overflowing with the contact you felt bereft of only moments ago. You took a deep breath in before leaning farther back into him and letting yourself enjoy all that Kenma was willing to give you.

Kuroo Tetsurō

-Ahh finally a vocal boy. My goodness.

-Kuroo is such an observant guy and he knows a bit about touch starvation.

-He didn’t know at first that it was diagnosable or anything. But he was generally aware of what it was.

-But you’ll be chilling at his place and he’ll be lying on his stomach writing something in a notebook and you’ll be sitting against the headboard, his feet by your thighs scrolling through your phone or reading or something. He put on some music and you’re just enjoying each other’s company.

-And then he’ll say something along the lines of, “We should set up boundaries.”

-“Wait, what?”

-“Well, I know you’re not… super comfortable with me yet. And I don’t want to push you into anything you don’t like. But the “line” doesn’t feel very defined.”

-His words are so casual. He hasn’t even looked up from whatever he’s doing, but it doesn’t make much sense. He’s one of the people you’re most comfortable around.

-“Tetsurō, what are you talking about?” and you’re sounding a bit exasperated even though you’re just confused.

-He finally raises his head. He turns to you and sits up, cross-legged. His words are slow and uncertain, “Well like … earlier when we were walking around I… I held your hand and you flinched. And when we met up you came over and gave me a hug, but once I hugged you back you kinda pulled away. It’s fine, I just… want to know what to do to make sure you’re comfortable.”

-And you’re pretty impressed he even noticed because they were all slight movements. But you get a bit anxious. You know he’s a pretty affectionate guy, and this would definitely be a barrier. And it’s your barrier. It’s not his job to fix it and--

-“Get out of your head,” he whispers calmly as he sees the turmoil and paranoia fighting in your eyes.

-He sees straight through you. He knows all too well how you can get.

-So with a deep breath you slowly tell him about touch starvation and your personal journey with it.

-He is deeply curious, but he’ll judge how you’re feeling.

-If you’re not doing great he’ll just nod and remind you that whatever you’re feeling is valid and it doesn’t change anything between the two of you. He’ll sit next to you, leaving a slight gap, and ask if you want to get close to him and take it from there. Asking quietly if he can advance or whatever it is that you need from him.

-If you’re fine with it he’ll ask you questions about when and how and where your personal boundaries are for now and what would make you feel more comfortable and help you grow out of it. And what he should do if you were not in a great mental place. Should he rush in and completely wrap you up in affection? Or should he give you space? He wants to know how to care for you, because he…. Cares so much for you.

-Regardless, of how the rest of that day plays out, he does loads of research on touch starvation. He learns everything he can about it. Takes note of everything he can do to help and common methods that do more harm than good so he doesn’t accidentally make things worse.

-He makes sure to ask you and check in with you before touching you and for the first WHILE that you’re together will interrupt cuddles to ask how you’re feeling. Reminds you constantly that he loves you and that whenever, if ever, you want (or need) touch you can go to him. And if he’s ever being too much he won’t be hurt if you ask him to back up. Makes sure to know how to handle people who are too touch-y for you without making a whole big scene.

-He really just wants to be there for you and have you trust him.

-As time goes on in the relationship he learns to read your tells without asking so much and you grow to need less time away from him, and being able to fully enjoy more of the time you spend closely snuggled up to him.

Iwaizumi Hajime

-Definitely the least observant out of this group (but we still love him). So he doesn’t really notice.

-And he doesn’t care much one way or another for physical affection. So he won’t really offer it if he doesn’t think you’re into it. And since you don’t really initiate, he doesn’t either. He thinks you don’t really want it so he lets it slide because he doesn’t care much.

-It takes a good long while, but eventually you start feeling completely comfortable around him, and he notices how you’ll be more needy. More physically affectionate in short and infrequent bursts.

-And so he reciprocates. Calling you over more often to hang out alone, with you close by his side, offering the slightest bit more PDA.

-But it’s still very limited.

-You eventually realize you have to have a conversation with him about it. He’s on his laptop, but he’s not doing anything important so you decide to do it now while he’s relaxed and at home so it doesn’t have to turn into some big thing.

-“Hajime?”

-“Yeah?” He asks only half paying attention.

-“Can I tell you about something… it’s kinda important.”

-He immediately swivels around to face you, “Yeah sure. What’s up? Is everything okay?”

-You steady yourself and do your best to clear your thoughts and casually bring up touch starvation and calmly explain the bare minimum about how it is and how it affects you and how you would appreciate it if he initiated the actions. And how it’s totally normal if you flinch or shy away at first, but you want to adjust because you do like being close to him.

-And he’s so chill about it.

-“Okay. Do you want to cuddle right now?”

-“Uhhh-- y-yeah. Sure. Are you okay with this all? I know it can be a lot to take in. You can ask questions or take your time or---”

-He cuts you off by taking your hand in his as he guides you to the bed to cuddle, “I love all of you. Even like this. And until you get better. So just let me hold on to you for a little while.”

-And he lets you curl up into him and is very gentle, but firm and steady with his touch. He doesn’t pull away at your sharp movements when his hands meet your side. He just make sure his touch is gentle and lets you enjoy the closeness.

-As time goes on he might ask a few questions to keep everything comfortable and make sure he’s aware of you and knows how to care for you in most situations. If he doesn’t he’ll ask quietly, and say that he’s willing to go home with you any time you feel overwhelmed.

-Iwaizumi is extremely loyal and careful with you and your needs and only wants the best for you. His loyalty and unwavering commitment to you are what help you eventually feel comfortable enough to either ask for what you need or just get it.

-You feel free to approach and cuddle him without asking or pull away without asking, because he gets you and he loves you and you know that. You taking action to care for yourself won’t change that.

Some Info on Touch Starvation:

I read a lot of touch starvation fics/hc’s when I was really going through it and they all had the touch starved person acting super clingy. Which CAN happen, but that’s usually only at the beginning of the condition only. In my own experience with touch starvation, physical contact actually gave me anxiety and panic attacks, and I became completely touch averse for a very long time before I slowly worked toward a healthier lifestyle.

Touch starvation leads to a lack of oxytocin (which is released when there’s skin on skin contact. It’s a social hormone often referred to as the “love” or “cuddle” hormone) and that can lead a person to feel very stressed and restless, so most touch starved people end up not accepting touches or shying away from touch and don’t really want to ask for it because they think they don’t want it.

A lack of oxytocin also leads to: a higher sensitivity to pain, feelings of isolation, depression, anxiety, and it makes you more prone to develop an eating disorder, clinical depression and/or anxiety, and fibromyalgia .

There are a lot of ways to deal with touch starvation, even if there are not people around you (pets, heavy clothing, warm showers, going to hair/nail salons regularly, etc. can all help get or simulate the contact you need.) Some of this is harder because of Covid, but please take care of yourself if you think you might be touch starved! It’s actually a serious condition and should be treated as such.

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

Text

Title: would you be so kind Ship: obikin Second: Ten years ago, Obi-Wan Kenobi met Anakin Skywalker, a charming young mage from Naboo, but as fate willed, they could not be together. A decade and thousands dead later, Alderaan’s High Court Sorcerer meets a Forger and his excited apprentice. AN: I forgot to post this on tumblr apparently, but here’s the first chapter of my second long WIP I am working on!

Then

The ship was crammed, filled to the brim with people clinging to one another, staring either at the home they’d lost or the home they hoped to be sailing to. Hundreds of ships had left Dromund Kaas already, carrying refugees across the ocean to safer harbors. The tension was high and sharp enough to cut as they sailed away from the doomed country and only relaxed when the pressure of the country’s shields finally left their shoulders.

“An awful sight, isn’t it?”

Anakin startled, instinctually pulled his coat around himself. Were he in a better shape, he would have lashed out immediately, winds, bindings, blood—

But the power flowing through his veins was too constricted, caged like a wild beast. Instead, Anakin just turned to look at the person who’d addressed him. An old woman with snow-white markings and long lekku stared at the dying country just as he had moments before, grief and resignation painting a sorrowful picture. “I never thought I’d leave this place. Did you?”

Wordlessly, Anakin shook his head. No, he certainly hadn’t thought he’d ever leave this place again. He’d been ready to be buried under the ashes of marble altars, not see this new dawn.

“I was born here, married too. All my children were born within the boundaries of this country and perhaps that is the reason they all left,” the woman continued. “I am glad that they weren’t here. If I think about what could have happened to them were they anywhere near the capital… I apologize; I hope you don’t mind my rambling. You looked like you needed company. Are you traveling to Naboo?”

He opened his mouth to reply, to give an affirmation, but stopped. He hadn’t quite thought where he’d go, except as far away from this place as he could. Naboo was certainly an option; Padmé would be glad to see him, he was sure. She’d take him in without asking a single question and defend him against the storms that were sure to come.

But Padmé was his friend and Anakin couldn’t allow her to shoulder his burden.

“No,” Anakin heard himself saying. “I’m not traveling to Naboo.”

“They are quite defenseless right now, yes, you are right. The fact that it’s the first stop of this ship is tempting enough for most to disregard what troubles might find them there.” The woman nodded in understanding. “I’ll be going to Alderaan myself. My eldest lives there, and in a country as strong as that, a tragedy like this can’t strike.”

She turned to look at the remains of Dromund Kaas again. The coastline used to be covered by beautiful large trees; his Master used to tell him how vital they were for its defense.

Now there was nothing but ash and darkness. Even here on the outskirts, where it had taken the longest for the remains of the catastrophe to reach, nobody was safe from it. Dromund Kaas had been in a pitiful state after the last war, which had made it an easy place to hideaway in. Alderaan might be stronger, the blooming center of magical education, but Anakin doubted they’d be able to defend against an attack like this. Nothing could save them from an attack such as this.

But Alderaan’s distance to this cesspit of disease was enough to provide a different kind of security.

Thousands of refugees would search for safety there, and Queen Breha was as cunning as she was kind. No one would be turned away and Anakin could slip in just right with them.

“I’m going to Alderaan as well,” Anakin replied.

The woman looked him over, then she beamed as if she were a young child and not already among the older members of her species.

Her smile was the first Anakin had seen in weeks. “Looks like we’ll be traveling companions then! You must tell me your name, young friend. I’m Raya Tano.”

She held out her hand and Anakin awkwardly shook it with his own left.

“My name is—”

Now

“Anakin Skywalker! Your automaton is ruining my kitchen!”

Sighing, Anakin let the spell sink back into the metal and settle into it. So much for working on his commissions today. A quick glance around the workshop told him that it was not one of his automatons running wild. Artoo was currently charging up and Threepio was keeping himself busy cleaning up. All the other small automatons Anakin crafted when he was bored were either asleep and charging or hurrying around the workshop, washing up the floors and putting away the tools Anakin had been using.

Anakin tugged off his gloves and threw them to a tiny and eager little automaton before picking up his softer everyday gloves. The leather was still quite resistant and had more runes stitched into it than most people dared to weave into one cloth, but they were nowhere near as excellently crafted as his work gloves. The dragonhide gloves were worth a fortune and so they never left his workshop unless Anakin had to. Anakin watched the little automaton put the gloves in their usual compartment until he could hear the click reassuring that the lock was in place. At first, that had only been a measure against thieves as he hadn’t had much to his name, but by now, it was a habit.

And it discouraged Ahsoka from stealing them for her own projects.

Anakin walked out of his workshop and crossed the courtyard to the small cottage he called his home, finding a kitchen in disarray, Raya standing on a chair with a small red automaton attempting to clean the floors.

“Look what a mess it’s making!” Raya said accusingly. “Instead of polishing my floors, it’s dirtying them!”

“I can see that,” Anakin hummed. He waited until the small automaton had reached his feet, then he bent down and pressed his hand flat on its small back, stopping it. Ahsoka’s handiwork was getting better; this little guy had kept moving for a while despite her absence. Anakin had no idea what the formal apprenticeship for forgers entailed, when they ought to hit what milestone, but he was willing to bet that Ahsoka was years ahead of her peers. Her spells were strong, her rune work fantastic, and very few actual weaknesses were left to explore in her automatons.

But Anakin was still a Master and Ahsoka only an Apprentice. Her work was not yet good enough to keep out foreign interference. Without much thought, he deactivated the automaton completely.

“This was your granddaughter’s handiwork,” Anakin commented. “She’s improving in leaps and bounds.”

Raya huffed and stepped from her chair. “I’m glad to hear that, but weren’t you meant to teach her control?”

“I am,” Anakin said, the argument an old and fond one. They returned to it frequently, mostly to annoy the young Apprentice. “And were she still as much of a mess as three years ago, she hardly would be able to craft such a fine automaton. Can’t do anything about her manners.”

Especially since she’d become a teenager. Anakin didn’t remember being as much of a pain as Ahsoka could be.

“And here I was thinking Masters were supposed to teach their Apprentices a medium of decorum.”

Anakin snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s what she has you for, doesn’t she?”

Raya’s expression softened. “That she does.”

Anakin sometimes wondered how Raya managed to stay so kind and calm when the world had taken so much from her. Her husband, country, her children— and yet she still stood straight, caring for the fellow traveler she’d never allowed to leave and the granddaughter that had been dumped on her with just a warning for Ahsoka’s generally explosive tendencies.

“Where is Ahsoka anyway?” Anakin asked, looking around the kitchen as if she would jump out in the open any moment. “I sent her on an errand earlier this morning, but she hasn’t returned yet.”

Unfortunately, Raya couldn’t tell him either. “I have no idea where that girl is running around—”

“Anakin!”

Speak of the dark and it shall appear. The door was thrown open and Ahsoka rushed inside, tracking even more dirt all over the floor, causing Raya to throw up her arms in defeat in a way Anakin knew meant Ahsoka would be left with all her favorite chores for the next week.

“Welcome back, Ahsoka,” Anakin said. “You’re late.”

“Yes, yes,” Ahsoka replied and rolled her eyes, obviously disinterested in what he had to say. “I got all you asked for and ordered the new metals, but look at this!”

Ahsoka raised her hand, revealing a ripped-off poster. It was tasteful in design, fine cursive writing on light blues, gold ornaments in the corners and, of course, the royal crest right in the middle of it.

Her Majesty the Queen of the Kingdom of Alderaan, Breha Organa, invites all Alderaani Practitioners of the Mythic Arts to attend the festivities in the capital of Aldera—

“Absolutely not,” Anakin said before he could even read the rest of the text. “We’re not going to Aldera to some festival.”

“Why not?” Ahsoka shot back. “It’s no summit, but it would at least be something.”

Her bitterness did not go unnoticed. Ahsoka had begged for months to attend this year’s summit. Every five, all magic practitioners gathered on Tython to exchange notes on their craft and pretend they were not also discussing the politics of their respective countries, forging alliances and the like. Anakin hadn’t been to the last summit, it having been just after Dromund Kaas, and the one before were tainted by the memories that followed, no matter how sweet the time had been. Ahsoka, of course, had begged to attend this year’s one, but it would only be foolish and reckless. He couldn’t just walk into the biggest gathering of mages in the whole continent and expect to get out of it without anyone realizing who he was, asking questions, concluding what he’d done.

Anakin had too much to hide, too much to lose, and he wasn’t going to risk his little Apprentice for it.

Not that Ahsoka knew any of that and wasn’t in the least satisfied with Anakin’s reply and immediately made her displeasure known.

“What would you even want to see there?” Anakin asked, trying to downplay how entertaining such an event was. “It’ll just be all the posh court sorcerers showing off with their fancy focusing crystals. It’s utterly boring and uncreative.”

“Like you wouldn’t use a focusing crystal if you had one,” Ahsoka muttered, arms crossed. “It’s just— there’s nobody else around here who can do magic. And all you ever do is work on machines.”

“Which requires a lot of concentration as it’s not just the manipulation of one aspect, but—”

“—but many, yes, yes, I know the speech,” Ahsoka said and dutifully listed all elements that went into their craft. There was a reason why not many forgers existed. Most mages lacked the talent, patience, and education to learn this craft, or were just plain afraid that they’d permanently damage their ability to use magic at all.

And with the speed technology was evolving and magic weaponized to terrifying new heights, not too many people still had use for forgers. Where two-hundred-years ago, you wouldn’t have gone out to hunt a dragon with a simple sword, but only with one crafted by a Master forger, nowadays you didn’t necessarily need one. Battle magic was on the rise again, especially with more and more countries growing uneasy, peace treaties falling apart. Combined with the threats from the northern continents, it was no wonder people cared less and less about expensive forgers when they could mass-produce and enchant simpler items.

“I just hoped you’d allow at least this,” Ahsoka finished. Her shoulders dropped. “Should have known better. I’ll go finish my readings.”

Ahsoka turned around, her shoulders still hanging, her head low.

Damn it.

Anakin knew that she was doing it on purpose. His Apprentice was cunning and had learned how to play into his every weakness. Slowly she marched into the direction of the door, dragging her feet behind her for effect and dramatics.

Raya raised a brow at him. She usually stayed out of Ahsoka’s tutelage, knowing next to nothing about magic herself, but even with his past being little more than a mystery to her, she could read him better than anyone else.

“Urgh, fine,” Anakin heard himself say. “Fine, we can go to the festival.”

Ahsoka turned around quicker than light and jumped up. “Yes!”

“But that means you’re not going to bring up the summit again!”

“Yes! Of course!” A moment later, Anakin had an armful of an apprentice. “Thank you so much, Master, you’re the best!”

Once she let go of him, she went to hug Raya and hug even her dirty automaton to her chest, still radiating happiness. “I need to go pack my bags immediately!”

“The festival is not for another week—”

Ahsoka obviously didn’t care. So caught up in her joy, she rushed upstairs, heading to her room to start packing. It shouldn’t surprise Anakin that she was so motivated. Ahsoka was a person who thrived on interaction, being surrounded by other people. While the people of their village were friendly, none of them were mages or even just sensitive to magic. It was one of the reasons Anakin had decided to stay without too much fight. But growing up so far removed from other mages had made Ahsoka twice as curious to meet others.

The thought made his stomach churn. He’d have to give Ahsoka formal lessons about their trade now, just if somebody asked questions that were too pointed. She’d also need a bit of the know-how on how you usually interacted with other mages and which pretentious bastards to call sorcerers before they threw a hissy fit. All these capital folks were much too sensitive about terminology after all. Anakin had never bothered to tell her the differences before, but Ahsoka would kill him if she accidentally embarrassed herself because he hadn’t seen it fit to instruct her properly. Forget teaching Ahsoka how to improve her automaton, the next week would be full of etiquette lessons. Skies, there’d be people trying to steal their spellwork too. Had he even mentioned that kind of theft before? Anakin honestly couldn’t recall.

“Already regretting it?” Raya asked, her voice just a touch amused.

“Just a bit,” Anakin replied.

“It’ll be good for her,” Raya said, convinced and confident enough for the both of them. “And good for you as well. I’ve known you for years now and you’ve never even brought a friend over. I’m not going to be young forever, you know. I do expect to be introduced to your future spouse at some point.”

“And this is my cue to go packing as well,” Anakin announced and followed Ahsoka up the stairs with Raya’s laughter following him.

He had no intention of being with anyone, ever, unless he could find glamours that held up even when majorly distracted. On his way up the stairs, Anakin caught a look of himself in the window, saw black vines curling around his neck, inviting someone to take a closer look.

It was better this way.

#obikin #star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #fanfic

49 notes · View notes

seacottons · 4 years

Text

— uni with atz pt. two

notes: swearing, fluff, mildly suggestive dialogue. tags: @latte-fairytaekwoon

seonghwa — [ early edu. + developmental psych. ]

extremely organized in all aspects of his life

your bookshelf at home consists of books on developmental studies in children.

if he isn't in class or volunteering, he's either cuddling with you or reading.

stressed 24/7.

takes very pretty and neat notes.

randomly spits out facts throughout the day.

sometimes, you join him during his volunteer hours at various daycares and schools.

is all the children's favorite teacher.

extremely patient and soft-spoken when it comes to working with even the most difficult child.

also loves being called 'teacher hwa'.

"i don't know, if i were you, i would make the students call me king san."

"they'll probably end up bullying you," seonghwa replies back.

you don't know how he has the patience for the amount of children he has to take care of.

takes you picture-book shopping with him for his students.

finds himself singing nursery rhymes while cooking or cleaning.

has polaroids of you two stuck on the fridge.

brings lint rollers to work.

gets worked up in public if a parent seems too neglectful in any way.

"y/n!" he tugs at your elbow and points with his jaw to the right, "look! his kid is just spilled all that paint on the floor, and he didn't even bat an eyelash!?"

"don't intervene again, please."

"okay, but-"

the whining of metal and steel cut him off, and the two of you jump in fright at the sound of a shelf falling apart.

"some people really shouldn't have kids."

whines when he comes back home that the paint stain and glitter just won't come off his clothes no matter how many times he rubs the spots with warm water.

or how he has mulch stuck in his socks and shoes from taking the kids outdoors to play.

you somehow always end up finding a googly eye or specks of glitter under the couch.

sometimes brings home finger-paintings with numerous colorful hearts and two stick figures in the middle.

"today's assignment was to paint what makes you happy."

you also help him stitch up little felt and cotton dolls for the kids to keep.

often gets sick from working with children.

and passes it onto you by accident.

you know he's had a bad day when you ask him how it went, and his face scrunches up in pain.

stormed into your shared apartment one day and made a beeline to the bathroom.

forty minutes later, he comes out, towel wrapped around his hips, face and chest flushed, and explains that a child accidentally peed on him.

gets flustered when you laugh at his demise.

sometimes uses his teacher voice when scolding you or your mutual friends.

and you all end up teasing him more anyway.

"do you use that tone in bed too, hwa?" yeosang asks one day. mingi and yunho splutter out in disbelief, followed by loud laughter.

you choked on your bite of cake at the sudden remark.

"what did i ever do to deserve this slander," seonghwa grumbles whilst patting your back.

he often stays up late making lesson plans for both his classes and ones to implement at work as well.

takes full advantage of his teacher's discount at shops and restaurants.

sometimes brags about it to his friends to get under their skin.

"you have it easy. just watching kids and getting free food," san says one day in the middle of their game of jenga.

"it's not easy at all," you hear seonghwa reprimand the younger, and laughter rings out from the other four guests.

"you're learning about children! what's so hard-"

you had a hunch that seonghwa purposely tilted the wooden tower to tumble over an unsuspecting san.

"y/n! your boyfriend is trying to murder me!"

seonghwa paces in circles around your apartment whilst studying for an upcoming exam.

asks you to quiz him on certain materials.

"correct! okay, can you define the preoperational stag-"

"how many kids do you want to have in the future?"

"..what?"

"kids. how many do you want to have with me?" he presses further, eyes trained on your face rather intently.

"can't this conversation wait until you finish studying?"

"no. i'm too curious," he licks at his chapped lips and leans in to poke your forehead, "i need to know. this is important information. please."

yeosang — [ biology pre-med ]

met you through your mutual friend, wooyoung, who invited him to live in your shared dorm.

"you didn't tell me you have a dog?" yeosang turns to wooyoung, brow quirked up whilst pointing to the 'beware of dog' sign on one of the bedroom doors.

"oh, i don't. i just put that up to mess with y/n," wooyoung dismissively explained while making a sandwich.

is the reason why you and wooyoung haven't killed each other yet.

asked you out after five months of moving with you and wooyoung.

designated one of the kitchen's shelves as a medical supply closet.

"because wooyoung always ends up hurting himself without doing anything."

"i do not."

stress is his middle name.

constantly contemplates his life decisions.

"wooyoung! shut up! i can't finish my essay with you blabbering every damn second!"

you had to get used to the sight of a full sized anatomical skeleton in his room.

"okay, but i'm not letting you fuck me with that thing in here."

later that night, wooyoung's heart nearly burst in his chest from fright.

"yeosang! why the fuck is your skeleton in my room!?"

some nights, during dinner, yeosang slams his obnoxiously large textbooks onto the table, and insists for the two of you to quiet down while he skims over the pages a few times.

"can't you just enjoy your meal for five-"

"no. now hush."

not only does he have labs, presentations, and essays to worry about, but he also got accepted for a pre-med internship at a local hospital.

hardly goes out anymore during his free time.

most dates include cuddling on the couch or baking something in the kitchen.

stays up late at night to complete assignments.

towers of thick books decorate his nightstand.

"no, yeosang. i really don't want to see you dissecting a cat," you grimace, turning quickly and shielding your eyes from his phone.

"why not?" yeosang whines softly, hand tugging the hem of your shirt with a frown, "it's not that bad, i promise-"

he's cut off when wooyoung snatches the phone from him with a loud cry, "gross! y/n, you're letting him touch you after he touched that?! and fuck- what is that smell?"

"that's formaldehyde. now give me back my phone before i dissect you next."

you join him at the lab when he has extra work piled up.

"you look so cute with a white coat and goggles."

you prod and poke him repeatedly, asking him numerous questions about the specimens in the lab.

"y/n! don't touch that!"

one day, wooyoung comes home sick.

you insist on taking him to see a doctor, only for him to emit a haughty laugh at you.

"why would i waste my time and money when i have yeosang here?"

"but woo, he didn't even get into med-school yet-"

wooyoung insists he doesn't need to see a professional, "yeosang is practically our live-in doctor! why do you think i begged him to move in?"

you roll your eyes, calling for yeosang to persuade the younger male.

"alright, tell me your symptoms," your boyfriend sighs, plopping down onto the couch beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

after wooyoung explains everything and takes his own temperature, he peers at yeosang for an answer, "well?"

"you're dying," yeosang nods simply.

wooyoung's visage pales, and he scrambles to sit up on the couch with a disturbed expression.

"what?"

yeosang is always studying.

always.

studying.

you insist for him to take a break sometimes.

"i can't. i have lab tomorrow. oh, and a paper."

"but you always say that!"

you attempt to tug him out of his seat.

"come on! just for an hour, and we'll be back. promise."

he's always reluctant at first, but finds himself agreeing later anyway.

enjoys the small dates at the nearby lake probably more than you do.

mingi — [ accounting ]

a gifted genius when it comes to numbers.

is your very own math tutor.

jokingly asks you to pay him back.

he accepts kisses and hugs. baked pastries are also a bonus.

"y/n? are you okay?" a hand waves in front of your face.

you blink at him wordlessly, mind fogged from the bombardment of information you just received, "sorry- you lost me. can you repeat the process again?"

he playfully smacks your shoulder with the ruler and stomps his bare feet onto the tiled floor, "this is the third time!"

"i'm sorry! you know how i am with math!"

he begs you to take classes with him as electives.

"sorry, baby. i love you, but there's no way i'll ever take statistics."

"okay, what about economics?"

"no."

"management? business administration!?"

"no and no."

"but y/n! it'll be fun! you'll be with me!"

always whines about how much he hates having to take 'stupid management classes' and the group projects that come along with them.

"they never take the assignments seriously!"

said group visits your apartment to work on projects with mingi.

"aren't you supposed to be working on that project?"

you watch as mingi and his friends suddenly erupt in an explosive argument about the game they were currently playing.

"yeosang! what the fuck!?"

"it's y/n's fault mingi was distracted!"

you let out an indignant squawk and glare at yeosang.

"that round didn't count."

"stop being a sore loser, san!"

"so.. i take it you didn't even start?" you grimace, peering over to the untouched books and papers on the coffee table.

"it's just management class. no big deal," san explains quickly with a dismissive wave of his hand before nudging your boyfriend with a glare, "you better not make us lose this time, or i'll kidnap y/n."

stays up late to finish other work that's due.

loves to wear big spectacles when studying.

it 'helps him focus'.

writes notes on his calculator and slides it towards you while you're both home studying.

'n-3^07-!'

"mingi, what is that?"

"read it upside down, you bum."

has a coffee mug with 'i love π' in big, bold, red letters.

refuses to throw it away even though the rim is chipped.

always bugs you about how you should have a budget plan.

insists on teaching you how to make spreadsheets on excel.

"i can't do this, mingi. too much numbers give me a headache."

"do you want my lucky glasses?"

rambles on about things related to his field, and you can only nod in confusion every time.

"how does your brain keep up with all of this?"

"easy. just be one with the numbers."

"that was a bad pun.."

"you're supposed to laugh!"

mingi was that typical student who complained about studying, but is always the one acing everything with the highest score.

"i should just quit university and become a stripper."

"you say that every exam week, and yet, you always pass with the highest grades," you mumble from the other side of the couch, absentmindedly highlighting a few sentences in your book.

"yeah, but studying is a pain in the ass," he exhaled with a loud groan, head thrown back against the back of the couch, "why me, y/n?"

you roll your eyes while reaching over to pat the side of his face in comfort.

"everything will work out just fine."

later that week, he joyfully bounces into your apartment with a large grin plastered on his face, "guess what?"

you snort in amusement.

"let me take a wild guess. you aced your exam."

"and guess who has the highest score?" he tugged you forward by your cheeks with a bright grin.

"yeosang?" the cheery expression on his features suddenly vanished, causing you to laugh, "i'm kidding."

likes to study while attached to your side, wearing comfortable pajamas and warm socks.

sulks whenever his stock investments drop further than he expects.

and is always in a good mood whenever the prices spike back up.

always has a horrible math pun up his sleeve.

sends you accounting memes and becomes a gloomy mess when you don't laugh or understand the joke.

"what if i propose to you with a math problem? and we have pie instead of cake?"

"please don't bring math into our love life."

yunho — [ broadcasting journalism ]

roommates with you, hongjoong, and jongho.

is called 'newspaper boy' by hongjoong.

is well-known around campus for being one of the student journalists for the university's newspaper.

you have the very first published paper, with his full name printed on the front, framed in the hallway of your dorm.

has the prettiest hands.

and longest fingers you've ever seen.

can put them to good use.

especially when typing out essays. they're practically blurred from how swift he is.

likes to ramble about current international events to jongho early in the morning. the latter pretends to understand, giving the other false hope.

jongho always sends you a pleading look to save you from your lover.

always carries a notebook.

article deadlines = stressed yunho.

complains that his friends are 'uncultured'.

helps you with your essays.

if he has enough time, he'll actually re-write it for you.

"was it really that bad?"

"it's okay, baby. you're good at other things."

"how come you don't re-write my papers?" jongho huffs from across the living room.

"you're not y/n."

interviews you and your other roommates for his projects.

you smile from behind him as he zooms in obnoxiously close to hongjoong's disgruntled expression.

"he zoomed in on my nose again, didn't he?" the blue haired male asks you.

"sorry, but that tomato sauce stain is really distracting me."

hongjoong nearly drops his fork.

"what stain!?" he furiously rubs his face with the back of his hand, "see! i told you that you always interview us at the most inconvenient time!"

is constantly writing.

can be very unorganized.

"who took my ap stylebook!?"

"can you stop shouting? it's 6 a.m., yunho!" hongjoong growls from his bedroom.

mingi and seonghwa often visit your dorm because they're usually partnered with yunho for an assignment.

it somehow always winds up with mingi and yunho fooling around, whilst seonghwa struggles to persuade them to help him with the work.

sometimes, you tag along to help film his public social experiment projects.

is a social-bug, so people are instantly drawn to him.

likes to cuddle with you while watching the films for his assignments.

you think most of them are pretty boring, but being in his lap and tucked against his chest makes up for it.

you like to add glittery stickers onto his video camera and tripod.

is very much infatuated with you, so he doesn't mind one bit.

applied for a paid broadcasting radio station/tv internship over the summer and was quickly accepted.

asks you to help him style his hair for his first day at work.

"but it's just a radio station. no one's going to see you?" jongho questions with a perplexed expression.

"i still need to look presentable!"

and later that day you quickly hush the two males beside you once the clock strikes 2 p.m.

"quiet! yunho should be on any second now!"

"i was just breathing?" hongjoong whispers weakly.

over dinner, jongho often mimics yunho's reporting voice.

"y/n, do i really sound like that?" yunho pouts as you and hongjoong burst into fits of laughter.

"aw, don't be sad. i love your reporter voice, baby."

will wake everyone up early the next morning by yelling at the top of his lungs with his reporter voice just to get back at you three for laughing at him.

328 notes · View notes

prettyboyreid · 4 years

Text

not clickbait!

Matthew finally agrees to make a YouTube video with his girlfriend.

Warnings: none, just fluff :)

Word Count: 6,493

Special thanks to all of the anons who gave me nickname ideas :)

“Please, Matthew? It’s just this one time, I promise,” you pleaded with him, following your boyfriend around like a lost puppy through your house as you did your best to get him to join you for one of your YouTube videos.

You were quickly approaching your YouTube channel’s three year anniversary, and you wanted to do something special for it. While you had been dating Matthew for nearly five years, he’d never once made an appearance in a video. You posted about him on other social media platforms and he posted about you - you even made a brief appearance in the second season of his Unauthorized Documentaries - but he always turned you down when you offered to have him join you on a challenge or a “Get Ready With Me” video.

This time, however, you weren’t taking no for an answer.

“I don’t know, angel. It doesn’t really seem like a good idea,” he said, mindlessly wandering into your kitchen before leaning against the granite counter. You gave him a soft pout, positioning yourself between his legs as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Matthew has always been hesitant with your relationship in the public eye. There’s fifteen years between the two of you, and he was always overprotective of you, especially when it came to the media. He knew how harsh some people could be and didn’t want anyone attacking either of you because of your relatively large age gap. It took about two years before he finally gave in and posted pictures of the two of you on social media, making your relationship “public.” You didn’t really have a problem with waiting so long; you thought it was sweet that he cared so much. Besides, it was nice to have him to yourself for a little while.

You had yet to convince him to accompany you in a video. You were an open book with your followers and subscribers - they were a big part of your life. You wanted them to know about you and Matthew, and you thought the best way to do so was having him in a video with you. A person can be completely different in a video than they appear in a photo.

“Come on, Matty,” you groaned, drawling out the last syllable as you let your head fall back in frustration. You felt his hands move to your hips and squeeze softly, sighing heavily at your insistent nature.

“Okay! Okay, fine, I’ll do a video with you,” he said tilting your head back up by your chin so you could look at him again with a bright smile. “What video are we doing? You’re not going to strap me to the side of a rickety old airplane or anything, right?” he asked.

He looked genuinely worried you would force him to do something dangerous for a moment.

You rolled your eyes a bit at his dramatic assumption, letting your fingers lace through his light brown hair as you looked up at him. “No, I’m not,” you promised him, leaning up on the tips of your toes to press a quick kiss to the end of his nose.

His face scrunched up a bit into a teasing frown at the odd sign of affection, shifting his weight a bit while his hands traveled up the bottom hem of your t-shirt so his fingers could trace along your skin. “Alright, no airplane. What did you have in mind, then?” he asked, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he looked down at you.

You silently noted the way his pupils grew nearly twice their size when he looked at you.

You shrugged, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. “I was thinking just a simple Q&A video…” you began, your voice trailing off as you second-guessed the rest of your idea for the bi-weekly video you planned to execute with Matthew.

He raised an eyebrow slightly as he saw you hesitate, folding his arms across his chest with a soft huff out of his nose. “And what? I know there’s something else there,” he asked. You were notorious for having more than one element to your videos, so he knew you wouldn’t settle for just sitting in the spare room you converted to your shooting room and read off random questions with him for thirty minutes. Besides, you both knew he would get antsy and want to do something with his hands. He was restless all the time, and you would need a way to keep him busy.

“I was thinking… I could have you do my makeup while we answered the questions?” you suggested to him, though it came out sounding more like a question than anything. You watched nervously as his brows furrowed together as he thought it over before smiling brightly. He wrapped his arms tightly around you before pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head with a hum.

“I think it sounds like a great idea, bunny,” he said, swaying the two of you back and forth for a moment as he hugged you. You rested your head against his chest with a smile, happy you had finally convinced him to join you for a project of your own.

“I’m glad you think so,” you said, pulling away as you looked up at him. His features from your point of view were shadowy, yet still very definitive. He really didn’t have any bad angles, in your eyes.

He leaned down with a grin before pressing a few soft kisses all over your face, his short stubble tickling your cheeks. You giggled softly at the sensation as you pulled away, hiding your face in his shoulder. You heard his soft chuckle as you checked the time on your phone, shoving it into your back pocket before grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the stairs of your shared home.

“Come on, I need to at least show you what goes where so you don’t completely ruin my makeup,” you teased him with a smile, looking back at him over your shoulder to see a smile on his lips that matched your own.

The next morning, you tweeted out for people to tweet you and Matthew questions for the upcoming video. The two of you spent the next day choosing the questions you were going to answer, writing down the username of the person who asked it and the actual question they had for you.

You came to a compromise when you picked out the questions: the two of you would pick five together, and each of you would individually pick out five. You thought it would be fun to see what kinds of questions he would pick out for the video, and you found a few that you thought would at least earn a laugh from him.

He thought it would be a good idea to take the questions and put them on pieces of paper, cut them up, and pick them at random from a hat. He hardly gave you time to agree before he began to write down the questions in his chicken scratch onto ripped up pieces of yellow legal paper.

After you had all of the questions in order, he helped you set up the spare room on the second floor so you could film the next day. He helped you hang up the pale blue sheet you usually had for the backgrounds for your videos, and dragged the coffee table upstairs so you could have a place to put all of your makeup. You got some foldable chairs you kept in one of the junk closets along with seasonal decorations and items that needed to go to the thrift store, setting them up across from his camera (that he insisted on using) so they were in the line of sight. It took you much longer than it should have to set up the shot, but you didn’t expect anything less from your director boyfriend.

Since you didn’t finish setting up the room until about 9:45, you decided you would just film the next day.

Matthew insisted on having a late night snack of a pint of ice cream - one for each of you, of course. You quickly found out he was just trying to figure out which questions you had picked out. You two bickered back and forth for what felt like hours as he tried to figure out which ones you wanted to surprise him with.

“Did you choose the one that asked about how the sex is?”

“Jesus, Gube! No, I didn't. Why, did you?” you retorted, eating another spoonful of the frozen dessert as you teased him.

He rolled his eyes before shaking his head, his grown out hair shaking with each movement. “No, but I’ll tell you one of the ones I picked if you tell me one of yours, sunshine,” he said, nudging your shoulder with his own as he finished the pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, setting the empty container on the table at the end of the couch, since your coffee table was currently upstairs covered in cosmetics.

You huffed out at his attempts to barter with you, shaking your head as you grabbed the two empty pints before heading off to the kitchen. “That wouldn’t make it much of a surprise then, would it?” you asked him, rinsing out the containers before tossing them in the recycling bin beneath the kitchen sink. You jumped slightly as you felt a pair of long, lanky arms snake around your waist, grinning as his lips tickled against your neck as he kissed your skin softly.

“Just one question, pretty please,” he asked, dragging out the phrase to try and guilt you into giving in. You tutted at his all but frugal attempts to break you, slipping out of his grasp quickly.

“For the last time, nope,” you said, popping the “p” before smacking his ass playfully. You grinned at the shocked expression your actions earned from your boyfriend. “Now come on sweet cheeks, we should get some rest before your big YouTuber debut,” you teased, lacing your hands with his as you walked him up the stairs.

He chuckled a little bit, both at the nickname and your excuse for why you needed to get to bed relatively early. “Whatever you say, sunshine,” he replied, his arm snaking back around your waist as you made your way closer to your shared bedroom.

You would never describe Matthew as one to get camera shy, especially given his career. But as you two got dressed and got ready the next morning, he was pacing your room as he buttoned up one of his patterned short-sleeved shirts.

“Do you think this is a good idea? I feel like this might be a little premature. I don’t even think your audience likes me. Jesus, what if I ruined you by being on your channel?” He voiced every possible thing that could go wrong, redoing the buttons at least three times as he messed them up from his brain being preoccupied.

You stood up from your seat at your vanity, setting down your hairbrush as you made your way to the pacing man. You rested your hands on his upper arms to stop him in his repetitive path, forcing him to look down at you.

“You’ll be fine, bug,” you reassured him, leaning up and kissing his nose softly. “You know they love you already. I promise that you’re going to be great, okay?” you told him, pushing some of his curls out of his eyes as you gave him a bright smile.

You watched as his nervous expression softened as you fed him words of encouragement, letting out a soft sigh before kissing the top of your head. “Okay… okay. Can we do this now? I feel like I’m going to back out of this if we wait any longer,” he asked. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment, nodding softly before leading him out of the room and down the hall.

He sat down in one of the seats as you made sure the camera and lighting was alright, pressing the record button before sitting down in your own seat. You grinned over at him, watching as he nervously fidgeted with the Alvin and the Chipmunks hat in his hands that held your questions.

“You ready?” you asked him, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear as you double checked that you had everything. He looked up from the bright red hat that had entranced him before nodding, setting it down on the coffee table before he looked back over to you. You smiled over at him before leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. You turned towards the camera a second later, flashing a bright smile as you adjusted the way you sat so you’d be at a better angle.

“Hey guys!” you greeted enthusiastically to the camera, giving a little wave as well. “Welcome back to a new video! Today I have a very special guest with me; my boyfriend, Matthew,” you introduced, glancing over at him with a smile. You watched him adoringly as you watched him give his own little wave, watching his cheeks turn a pale shade of pink.

“Hello!” he said with enthusiasm that rivaled yours, despite his little voice crack in the middle of the word. You grinned a little bit before turning back to the camera, crossing your left leg over your right.

You finished up the intro to the video rather quickly, just explaining what you guys would be doing and thanking everyone for sending in questions. After a few moments you turned back to Matthew, grabbing the red hat from the coffee table. “You ready?” you asked him, smiling as he nodded and began to look through the makeup.

You sifted through the questions to shuffle them up, laughing a bit as you noticed how focused he was on the products in front of him. “What do I even start with?” he asked you, picking up a concealer and a tube of mascara.

“Start wherever you want, bub,” you smiled, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as you unfolded the first question, watching him untwist the cap of the mascara tube.

“Okay, @y/ngoobler asked, ‘How and where did you two meet?’” you said, grinning as he intricately began to apply the black substance to your lashes with a bright smile at the question.

“Can I answer this one?” he asked you in a soft voice. You giggled a bit at his timidness, but nodded quickly before watching his face light up. “Okay, okay, so about five and a half years ago, I went to a panel with my costar, AJ Cook,” he began, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he continued to apply the mascara very generously to your already long lashes.

“Y/N was there with a friend of hers, and I met her at one of the photo ops. Then I later saw her back at the hotel we were staying at, and we talked for a while before I asked her out to dinner the next night before I flew back home,” he explained, leaning back a bit as he inspected his work. “Then I just kept asking her out and hoped she didn’t get annoyed with me. It’s worked for five years so far,” he chuckled, twisting the cap back onto the tube of mascara before looking back at you.

“Can I pull the next one?” he asked, grinning a bit as you nodded to him before he mixed the questions up in the hat before pulling the next one.

“Alright, @y/s/ntrash asked, ‘What is your favorite thing about the other?’” he read off, grabbing a random eyeshadow palette off the coffee table along with a rather large eyeshadow brush. “You go first, I need to focus on this,” he murmured to you, dipping the brush into a yellow color. You closed your eyes with a smile, trying to picture the shape he was designing on your eyelid as you thought over your answer.

“My favorite thing about Matthew is… his sense of humor, probably,” you answered, chewing, grinning as you could feel his demeanor change brightly. You knew how self-conscious he could be, especially about anything that involved entertainment, so that probably lifted his spirits a bit.

“My turn?” he asked you, pulling the brush back as he waited for your answer. You opened the eye he wasn’t working on, nodding softly as you noticed his bright smile. “Besides everything, my favorite thing about you is your smile,” he announced to you and to the future audience, kissing you quickly before he gathered more of the eyeshadow on the brush.

You reached down into the hat as you picked the next question, laughing a bit at the way the brush he used tickled your skin with each stroke he made. “Uh, @spencerwreid asked, ‘Y/N, what is your favorite movie of Matthew’s? Matthew, what is your favorite video of Y/N’s?’” You crumpled up the small yellow piece of paper before tossing it to the side, closing your eyes as he moved onto the next lid.

“My favorite movie of his is probably… Hot Air, I think. I loved the cinematography and the coloring, and Lesley reminded me so much of him,” you explained, folding your arms across your chest as you settled back into your chair. “Your turn, bug,” you told him, figuring he was lost in a trance of his work.

“Oh, shit, okay,” he said, pulling away and letting the brush fall onto the table with a clink as you opened your eyes again. “My favorite video is… that vlog you made when you went to Disneyland with a few of the other YouTubers. I don’t remember their names. I think two of them were twins,” he said, sifting through the products to figure out what to do next.

“The Dolan Twins?”

“That’s it!”

You grinned a little bit, leaning over again and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “How does it look so far?” you asked him, watching him grab an angled brush before grabbing a neutral eyeshadow palette.

“I can’t tell you, it’ll ruin the surprise,” he said, chuckling as you stuck your tongue out playfully at your boyfriend. He plucked the next question from the hat, carefully unfolding it before he read it aloud. “@queeny/n asked, ‘How long have the two of you been together?’”

“It’ll be five years this August!” you answered enthusiastically, watching as Matthew just smiled brightly at your quick answer.

You grabbed at the hat and picked out a new question as you watched him dip the brush into a light brown shade, humming to yourself as he dragged it along your eyebrow. “Okay, okay, @abbygubler asked, ‘What did you do for your first date?’” you repeated the question, tossing it to the side as you watched Matthew carefully fill in your brows.

“I took Y/N to a Thai restaurant across the street from our hotel, and she had the absolute worst pad thai I’ve ever tasted in my life,” he chuckled at the memory, pulling back for a moment to look at his work and pick another question.

He placed the brush between his teeth for a moment as he unfolded his question, leaning his neck back slightly before playfully spitting the brush back onto the table, earning an eye roll and stifled laugh from you.

“@prentissprincess asks, ‘Why did it take you guys so long to go public?’” He hummed at the question, picking up a bottle of setting spray before shaking it up. “Close your eyes,” he told you, and you obliged before he spritzed the mist over your face.

“Well, I’ll tell you why,” he began, picking up a bottle of foundation as he turned to the camera (probably just for dramatic effect.) “I am fifteen years older than Y/N, and when we told a few friends when we started dating, they weren’t too fond of it, and didn’t find it necessary to hide their feelings from us,” he said, using the pump on the bottle of foundation to scatter drops across your face.

“So, after talking about it for a bit, we decided to just keep it to ourselves for a little while, just so we didn’t have to deal with the media for a little while - should I use the big brush or the egg?” he interrupted himself, holding up both of them as he looked at you. This obviously was much more important to him than the question, which made you smile a bit.

“The sponge would probably be better,” you corrected and informed him, watching him nod before beginning to carefully dab at your face with the beauty blender.

“Okay. Anyway, we just thought it would be best for a bit, and then we got a little more comfortable and just posted about each other, and now I’m in a YouTube video. I think this is going to be the peak of my career,” he joked. You snorted softly at the comment, which only made him smile brightly as he continued to blend out the foundation across your face.

You picked out the next question, careful to not interrupt your boyfriend’s creative process as you unfolded it and read it around his arm. “@mixmatchedmatthew asked, ‘Was it hard to keep your relationship a secret for such a long time?’” You glanced up at Matthew slightly as he picked up a kabuki style brush and a little compact bronzer.

“I don’t think so, no,” you answered, watching him dip the brush into the compact.

“Make a fish face. That’s what you showed me, right?” he instructed. You nodded softly with a grin, sucking in your cheeks as he brushed the darker cosmetic across your sunken cheek. “The hardest part was probably not being able to show her off, but overall, I’ve probably done harder tasks,” he admitted, brushing out the powder across your cheek before moving up to the sides of your forehead and along the bottom of your jaw.

He set down the brush as he finished the one side of your face, reaching over into the hat and picking out the next question for you two to answer.

“Okay, this one is from @y/ndivinity - Why are these usernames so creative? We need better user names,” he commented, taking the brush and working it across the other side of your face. “Anyway, they asked, ‘What are your favorite things to do together?’”

“Oh! I love just sitting around and painting or drawing together. I like just… being creative with you, I guess?” you answered, scrunching up your nose slightly as he began to drag the brush over it.

“My favorite thing to do with you is taking you to the beach, even just for little lazy days,” he said with a smile. You grinned at his answer, pushing yourself out of your seat for a moment to kiss him quickly.

“I thought you didn’t even like the beach?”

“I only like it with you, bunny,” he answered quickly, giving you a quick kiss back before picking up a bottle of concealer.

You smiled at his response, picking out the next question as he started to draw little shapes under your eyes and in the middle of your forehead. “@aestheticmatthew asks, ‘Have you learned anything from each other?’” you read aloud, dropping the paper into your lap as you looked back to your focused boyfriend, who again was trying to decide between whether to use a beauty sponge or a brush to blend the makeup out.

“Use the sponge, ‘Hew,” you told him, watching him nod quickly before dropping the brush and beginning to dab carefully at your skin.

“I’ve learned how to become an up and coming makeup artist from Y/N,” he answered. You laughed a little, before realizing that that was his actual, legitimate answer. You grinned a little bit, leaning up and messing his hair up a bit to tease him.

“I learned not to take everything so seriously,” you answered, uncrossing your legs and stretching them out beneath his chair a bit. He noticed this, and his eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

“Are you okay? Should we take a break for a few minutes?” he asked you, pulling his hand back as (you assumed) he finished blending out the makeup across your face. You shook your head softly, though your heart melted a bit at how much he cared.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. We’re almost done, I’ll make it,” you promised him, smiling a bit as you plucked the next question from the hat. “Okay, uh, @sydney.y/l/n asked, ‘What do you see for your future together?’” You smiled a bit at the question, looking over at Matthew as you finished reading it. He paused his dig through the products as he smiled a bit at the question as well, leaning back in his seat for a moment as he thought.

“We’d probably stay in the haunted treehouse, but I feel like there’d be at least a few kids running around. Maybe married in Las Vegas along the strip, with a honeymoon somewhere tropical or in the mountains for two weeks,” he said, looking up slightly as if he was lost deep in thought.

“Besides that, just growing old and gray together, and I annoy you until one of us dies, or whatever happens when you turn one hundred and four,” he finished with a bright grin, leaning over and kissing your cheek softly. You smiled as he made a bit of a face, realizing he should’ve blended in the concealer a bit more as he wiped at his lips with the back of his hand. “That was gross,” you heard him mutter, which only made you burst into a fit of giggles as he reached for the next question.

You watched his face contort into a confused expression as he read over the question, and you knew at that moment he had picked out one of the questions you were surprising him with.

“Uh… okay, uh, @reidreidreid asked, ‘Is Y/N a sugar baby?’”

You laughed to yourself at the way he timidly read it and at the face he made, watching him hold back his own laughter as he looked forward to the camera. “No, sh-she’s not,” he said, stuttering over stifled chuckles as he pointed at the fairly large lense. “I am actually the sugar baby. She pays for everything, she actually bought the house from me when she moved in,” he said, fully prepared to continue going on a dramatic rant if it weren’t for you laughing at the entire thing. He shot you a playful glare, which only worsened your case of giggles.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” you said, grinning as you pressed your lips together before crossing your legs again. He picked up a blush palette and a fluffy brush as you picked out the next question, smiling as you watched him suck in his lips to hide his own smile that was tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Alright, @agenty/f/n asked, ‘Do you go on press tours and go to panels with Matthew?’”

“Smile big, I need to do the blush,” he interrupted you before you can answer, grinning a bit before doing just as he said.

“I just started going to them the past three years, after we went public,” you answered through your tightened teeth, watching as the taller man just laughed at the sight. You laughed quietly as he finished applying the pink powder, setting the brush and palette down once he was satisfied with his work.

He grabbed the hat to read out the next question before moving onto the next step of your makeup, humming as he shuffled the three thin remaining pieces of paper before plucking one out. “@penelopexderek asked, ‘What are your favorite quirks about each other?’” He set the paper down as he dug around the lipsticks, giving you time to answer first.

“When he sleeps, he wiggles his feet a bit, like he’s being tickled or something. It’s a lot cuter than it sounds, and it’s funny to just feel him softly kick at me in his sleep,” you said, teasing your boyfriend a bit with your answer. He stuck his tongue out at you at your response, picking up a pink vial of lipstick before uncapping it and twisting up the product.

He carefully began to apply the cosmetic to your lips as he gave his answer. “When she’s editing, Y/N has to be all spread out across our bed, and she has her tongue poking out of her cheek and she has like her Apple Pen stuck behind her ear… it’s just really cute,” he said, causing you to smile a bit as he finished applying the lipstick.

You pick out the second to last question, watching him grab at the setting spray again. He shook up the bottle for the second time today, waiting for you to read the question so he didn’t spray you in the mouth or the eye.

“@68y/n said, ‘Matthew, did Y/N ever visit you at the Criminal Minds set? If so, what’s your favorite memory there?’” You quickly closed your eyes and mouth so he could apply the spray, your eyes screwing just a bit tighter as you felt the cool mist on your skin.

“Yes, she did, actually. Only for the last few seasons, though, and whenever it worked out for her schedule. My favorite memory with her there is probably filming the Unauthorized Documentaries with her.”

“I was only in it for like twenty seconds, babe,” you said, chuckling a bit as he just shrugged.

“Doesn’t make it any less fun,” he replied quickly, grabbing the last question from the hat and reading it. You watched his face light up brightly, looking back up at you before leaning back in his seat and holding the piece of paper out to you.

“You read it.” You raised an eyebrow at his insistence, leaning back in your seat slightly as he smiled. “It’s one of the ones I picked out. You’ll love it, I pinky promise,” he said, holding his large pinky to you.

You smiled a bit, wrapping your pinky around his before taking the piece of paper from him.

“Alright, @jemilymoreid asks…” your voice trailed off as you smiled, reading the question before glancing up at Matthew. He had a wide grin on his face, crossing his arms over his chest proudly as he waited for you to finish the question. “...they asked, ‘Has he given you the screw that was in his knee yet?’”

You smiled up at him, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Yes, he has. We still keep it in the fireplace, but he gave it to me for our four year anniversary,” you said with a grin, glancing at him before looking back at the camera. “He said it was his version of a promise ring.”

You checked the time on your phone quickly before looking over at Matthew, smiling a bit. “Can I look at my face yet?” you asked him since you finished the questions. He nodded softly with a matching smile, handing you a handheld mirror before practically sitting on the edge of his seat. His eyes flickered with excitement and pride, wanting you to see what he had spent the morning working so hard on.

You couldn’t help but grin once you saw your reflection. It wasn’t by many people’s standards good, but considering it was his first time doing anything like it, you thought it was great. He looked over at you expectantly, chewing on his bottom lip as he laced his hands together.

“It looks great, buggy,” you said, leaning over and kissing him quickly. You felt him smiling against your lips, obviously happy that you liked it. “I love it,” you told him as you sat back in your seat, his smile stretching across his face at the compliments.

“Really?” he said, his cheeks burning a pink shade that matched the one he brushed onto your face earlier. “I’m really glad you like it,” he beamed, leaning back in his seat as he just looked over at you, admiring his work and you.

You wrapped up the video, reminding the viewers to like, comment, subscribe, and follow your other social media accounts. You gave a wave and blew a kiss to the lens before you stood up and turned off the camera, sighing softly before turning off the lights.

You watched as Matthew slumped back into his seat, like he was holding in his breath the entire time you were filming.

“So, what now?” he asked, running his hands back through his hair as he looked up at you.

“Now, we clean this mess up, then I can start editing,” you said, helping him gather up all of the makeup. You two took everything back to your vanity where you usually kept all of it, sorting it out into their designated drawers as Matthew insisted on taking the coffee table back downstairs.

It didn’t take you very long to clean up the filming room. After you took a couple photos for the cover of the video, you took down the sheet and the camera tripod, folded up the lights, and put everything back where it belonged. In a little under an hour, you wouldn’t have been able to tell you had done anything in the spare bedroom.

You spent the rest of the day beginning to edit your video. It was a bit longer than usual, so you didn’t finish up until about eleven o’clock, only taking breaks to eat and use the bathroom. You rubbed at your eyes tiredly as you closed your laptop, shoving it in the drawer of your bedside table as you heard Matthew come into the room.

“Did you finish it already?” he asked, joining you in the bed before getting comfortable under the thick covers before turning to face you. You nodded softly, running your fingers back through your hair before pulling it back into a low messy bun.

“Yeah, I wanted to get it up tomorrow, so I just finished everything up tonight,” you explained to him, switching off the lamp beside you before cuddling up close to him, resting your head on his chest as you sighed quietly. You hummed contently as you felt his soft hands rubbing circles on your back, kissing the top of your head as he tried to get you to relax and release the tension you held in your body from sitting in one position for so long.

“I’m sure it’s great, angel,” he assured you, settling down into the mattress as he got ready to go to bed with you. “You need some rest so you can stay awake to see everyone’s reactions tomorrow, though,” he added, giving you a small smile in the dark room.

You nodded softly, intertwining your body with his as you tried to get comfortable in your bed. “G’night, baby boy,” you murmured lazily, pressing a soft kiss to his exposed chest, too tired to move your body up to kiss his lips.

“Goodnight, my love,” he whispered quietly back, both of your eyes closing as you let yourselves fall asleep quickly in the dark bedroom.

The next morning, both of you were riddled with nerves. He was worried that all of your followers would think he was annoying, and you were worried that they wouldn’t like the video in general. You always worried about this, but Matthew was the one to calm you down when you watched the video upload slowly to your most popular platform. However, since you both were pacing in front of the laptop screen, worry coursing through your veins, it wasn’t very helpful.

The video uploaded at about noon, and after that, you both decided to close the computer for now. You wanted to wait a little while before you checked how the video was doing, so you two ordered some Chinese food and watched a random movie you found on Amazon Prime.

You two cuddled up on the couch and ate your food as the movie played on, but from the bouncing of his leg and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears, you could tell that it wasn’t a very good distraction. Halfway through the movie he let out a huff and paused it, pulling out his phone and opening the YouTube app.

“Enough people would have seen it by now to give us some feedback, right?”

He opened up your channel and clicked on your most recently uploaded video, smiling as he saw that there were almost three thousand likes in about one hour of being uploaded. He scrolled down to the comment section, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he scrolled through them.

“They’re so cute omg”

“A video with Matthew!!! Finally!!!”

“The perfect couple <3”

“I need a Matthew IMMEDIATELY!”

You only found a handful of negative comments, but the positive ones completely outweighed them. You watched as the tall boy smiled brightly as he read through them, even liking a few of them as he went along.

“They actually like me!” he said excitedly, looking down at you as he spoke. His eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree with happiness, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“I told you they would, Matty,” you reminded him, curling up to him as you rested your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around you to pull you just a bit closer, reading back through the comments with a grin.

“See, and it’s doing really well, too! Everyone loves the video,” he told you, showing you a few comments that praised the content they had received from you. You hummed in content as you sported a matching smile, glancing up at him before taking his phone and pressing the power button.

“Now that we have that out of the way,” you began, taking the remote from him. “We should probably finish that distraction.”

“I agree,” he said, pressing a few kisses across your face and head as you pressed play, pulling a blanket over the two of you as you tossed both of your phones onto the coffee table. Your attention turned back to the movie, reveling in the warmth of his touch as you let out a relieved sigh, happy that all of your fans and followers loved him almost as much as you do.

Almost.

@darling-doll9 @imsuperawkward

777 notes · View notes

angelanimedesaray · 3 years

Note

Hi there.

I just wanted to let you know I stumbled upon your fic “Wings in The Dark” about three weeks ago. I’m not a huge fan of AOT, but I’ve always fancied Levi in a sense. I saw a nice fan art of him awhile back and it made me look into seeing if there’s any good fanfics to read.

There was. “Wings in The Dark” was unlike anything I’ve ever read before, especially since I don’t read x readers often. However, the story pulled me in very quickly and sunk its hooks deep.

Your characters are well established and developed, with their strengths and weakness laid out, clear details and engrossing story progression. The story breathed with life.

I was so invested in the fic I finished it within the week. If I wasn’t reading it I was thinking of it. It actually managed to make me tear up in a few places. I was physically upset when I reached the latest chapter and there was nothing else to read of it. While it made me immediately jump on to read more of your works, amazing as Wings in The Dark was, I couldn’t forget about it easily and had to read it a second time around.

Long story short I just want to let you know I’ve become an avid fan of yours, and you are an incredibly talented writer. Keep up the amazing work! I love it so much!

EEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKK Thank you thank you thank you <3 This made me so happy, and definitely got the gears turning to focus on the next chapter I was kind of trudging through. Wings in the Dark is one of my Big Three Levi Fics lol--Wings in the Dark, A Demon's Promise, and Through The Looking Glass (Gotta get back to that one soon, I've technically started the next chapter), So I'm very proud of it, expecially with all the love it's been getting. I went on a full binger for a while writing just Wings in the Dark cause there was so much happening in that fanfiction, and I think it's the only fanfiction I have, Slow Burn wise, where the characters have officially established a relationship. So far. We shall rectify that soon in at least one of the other Big Three. Hehehe But yes, I'm very happy to finally be writing in the medium of an ongoing, healthy relationship, yesssssss. And to be honest, my Reader was originally an OC I created for the AOT RP community, but hardly anyone interacted with her, sooooo....fanfiction! And you guys get Wings in the Dark! Yay! Which is quite the ambitious project, like, wow, just wait till we start hitting the Main Story years, right now that's still a couple years away, but ooooooohhhhhhh boy is it gonna get juicy. It already is, but juicy--ER, lol. Anyway, yes, thank you so so so much, a lot very much, it made me very happy, lots of love <3 <3 <3

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rims-things · 3 years

Text

Fanfiction - One Shot

Fanfiction

Show : Doom at your Service

Myul Mang / Kim Saram x Dong Kyung

Setup : Kim Saram falls sick for the first time in his life. Thankfully Dong Kyung is there to take care of him

Concept suggested by : @dizistyles ❤

"Hello? You there ? "

Dong Kyung walked across her room , speaking into her phone and waiting for him to reply. It was already late at night and ever since he turned into a human, he would often fall asleep without warning.

She chuckled, imagining how sweetly he might be cuddled up in the bed.

"You're asleep. Good night Kim Saram.." she said before cutting the call.

Dong Kyung walked back to her laptop to note down whatever information she had just taken down for her novel.

She woke up the next day , expecting to get a call from him. She impatiently kept checking her phone , but all in vain. There was absolutely no news of him.

But he had promised to drop me to work today - She wondered.

When it was about time he should have come to pick her up, she instantly felt anxious.

Did he disappear? Was it a dream? Was it all a dream?

She panicked and quickly dialed his phone number with shivering hands.

Pick up! Please.. please pick up! - She begged.

"Hello?" His voice was weak but felt like a blessing to her ears.

She took a sigh of relief.

"Are you okay?? Why didn't you come ?" She asked trying to calm herself down.

He suddenly realized that he had been asleep all this while and it was late already.

"I... I'm.." he couldn't speak properly.

"Saram? .. are you okay ?" She started getting worried.

He slowly sat up on his bed and squeezed his eyes.

"I don't feel good." He said in a low voice.

That was enough for Dong Kyung to immediately pick up her bag and leave for his house. Not that she was just worried what might be wrong, but she was always anxious about his disappearance.

Saram held his head in his palms and groaned in pain.

"Ahhhh! Why does it feel so bad " he said to himself.

Ofcourse he was a doctor, and he knew everything about the human body. But only in theory.

He kept whining about the situation when Dong Kyung crashed into his room. His face lit up instantly.

"Saram.. are you okay ??" She said, running towards him.

"Ya.. i am fine.. i think i have what you call a... 'headache' " he said with a forced smile, he felt terrible from inside.

Dong Kyung could see the bizarre look on his face and immediately understood that he was not well.

"Hey! Don't lie to me.." she said, sitting next to him and caressing his cheek with her tiny fingers.

She jumped in horror. His skin was burning with fever.

"YA! Saram! You are burning!" She shouted feeling panicked.

He looked at her with a confused and dull look. He felt strange, sleepy, heavy on the head and weak.

"Burning ? " He said touching his face. "Aah.. so I have a 'fever' ?" He asked sounding curious.

Dong Kyung rolled her eyes and pressed her foot hard on the floor.

"How can you not know that you have a fever, when you are a doctor by profession?" She taunted.

"I've seen sick people but i haven't fallen sick myself.. how would I know how it feels ?" He said with a straight face as if it was so obvious.

Dong Kyong shook her head and stood up from the bed to leave.

He immediately held her hand back.

"Where are you going? Don't leave me... I'm sick ." He pleaded like a child.

Sometimes he was such a baby and she couldn't help but love him even more. She smiled at him warmly.

"I'm going to get you a medicine" she informed.

"Oh okay.." he said , releasing her hand immediately.

She chuckled at his tantrums and turned around to leave but he called out to her again.

"Dong Kyung..i also feel.. numb .. as if I have no energy.. as if I can't stand ? Or walk? Is that what you call 'weakness' ?" He asked, inquisitively.

She turned towards him and sighed.

"Yes... you're feeling weak because you are sick. You have a headache, you will feel dizzy, sleepy and lazy"

"Woah! You know a lot about being sick." He exclaimed.

Dong Kyung rolled her eyes and sighed helplessly. He was impossible

"I'll be right back" she said before walking out.

By the time she returned, he had covered himself with a blanket and fallen asleep.

She quietly kept the medicine and a glass of water next to him on the table. She sat beside him and caressed his temple.

"You look so cute when you are asleep" she said softly.

"I know " he replied, with his eyes closed.

She frowned and hit him on the forehead.

"Kim Saram! Don't put on an act, get up and take your medicine if you are awake. "

He smiled and held her hand, slowly sitting up.

"But I haven't eaten anything.."

"That's why I made you something. Eat it. Have medicine and take rest."

"Ah.." he looked at the breakfast kept next to him. ".. that is what my wife would do...wait ...is that a proposal? I say Yes .. lets get married today?" He exclaimed.

She pushed him back with a shy smile.

"Just do what I said"

He frowned at her and unwillingly went ahead to have his breakfast, but it felt terrible to sit and eat. He felt dizzy and lethargic.

"Ah.. i don't want to eat Dong Kyung.. can't i just sleep?? This feels so terrible.." he complained .

She immediately took the plate in her hand and started feeding him herself.

He smirked and happily took a bite without question. Was there any point saying No to her?

"If you don't eat, how will you get better? Don't you know .. Doctor??" She mocked.

He chuckled and continued to take bites, without moving his eyes away from her face. He couldn't thank the Goddess enough for letting him see her again.

After she was done, she handed over a tablet and a glass of water to him.

"Have this. I'll be back " she said before leaving with the plates.

By the time she returned, she had expected him to be done with the medicine, but she found him sitting and staring at the tablet instead.

"What ? " She asked.

He looked up at her with an innocent smile.

"I haven't taken a tablet ever before... does it pain?" He asked.

Dong Kyung chuckled.

"Haven't you seen your patients take it? Do they cry?"

"No"

"Then just swallow it with water. It doesn't hurt" she said, smiling at him.

"What if it gets stuck in my throat? Will I die ?"

"It won't. Just gulp it down."

"Okay.." he nodded and took the tablet as if it was the biggest stunt of his whole life.

"Goshh! How could you be a doctor.?" She wondered.

"Aaachooo" he suddenly sneezed and felt shocked. " What was that " he said to himself.

"Aaa.. I see.. you got wet in the rain last night didn't you? Now you're sneezing." Dong Kyung explained.

"Woah! It felt weird.. it was so sudden.. is that how you feel when u sneeze ??" He asked.

Dong Kyung laughed seeing him experience all such things for the first time in his life. She somehow felt satisfied that he was totally a human now.

She carefully made him lie down on the bed and sat next to him with a piece of cloth and bowl of water.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"It will help to get your fever down quicker" she said.

"I know that. But you don't have to do it .. I am fine. Aachooo! ......Yaaa! ....That feels bad" he said.

She giggled and continued to wet the cloth and put it on his head until his fever was down. He kept looking at the calmness on her face and felt his pain fade away.

Hardly did he know when he dozed off.

Dong Kyung kept looking at his innocent face and recalled how he used to be few months ago. How he was simply existing, neither alive nor dead. But today he was living and experiencing everything he had ever wanted.

She quietly walked to the other side of his bed and laid down next to him, running her fingers through his soft hair.

"I love you so much..." she whispered and shut her eyes, feeling his cheeks against her palm.

He felt better when he opened his eyes after having a good rest. He still felt a bit weak but mostly fine. He tried to move his head when he realized that someone was sleeping cuddled up in his arms.

He could feel her silky hair touching his chin when he looked down. She was sleeping peacefully against his chest and in his embrace. He couldn't help but smile and blush.

"You're so small.." he chuckled, and caressed her head.

She moved her head up slowly and spoke with her eyes half open.

"Are you feeling better ?"

"Yes ...with you in my arms, I feel way better " he said.

She felt shy and immediately tried to get herself out if his grip but he held her back.

"Don't go..I'm sick.." he said, but his look was rather intense than mischievous.

She felt a familiar tension in the air with the fire he had in his eyes and unknowingly approached his lips. Without wasting a second, he kissed her back gently.

She wrapped her arms tighter around him and he brushed his fingers on her cheeks. They kissed for a while and parted.

Dong Kyung was left flustered, while Saram smiled satisfactorily. He turned around and picked up the tablets kept next to his bed.

Handing over the tablets to her he spoke.

"Now you'll need this too ..." he chuckled.

"Just shut up. Creep! Why did you kiss me ?" She complained.

"I kissed you?? You approached first..."

"No..what do you mean ..?"

Their kisses might last for seconds, but their bickering knows no end.

A/N : That's all folks. I hope I did not bore you ☹ Sorry if there were silly mistakes 🥲 Didn't proof read it 😶 I wanted to write more but my office people are cruel 💔💔 I wish I could make it better, but that all I could do this time 😅 Thanks @dizistyles for the suggestion, I loved writing this. 💙

#doom at your service #tvn doom at your service #myul mang #seo in guk #park bo young #kdrama #tak dong kyung #myeol mang #dong kyung #kdramaedit #seo in gook #fanfiction #fanfic #kdrama fanfic

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