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thatfanficstuff · 3 years

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Absent-Minded Kisses - Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Minors DNI. Smut, including but not limited to: unprotected sex, locker rooms, excessive usage of Fuck

A/N: Celebration Summer #17. Combined two requests for this one. One was Sleepy early morning kisses and the other is the two prompts in bold. I kind of love this one. Enjoy!

wc: 2037

***

It was so early. So, so early. You weren’t even certain why you were up other than you didn’t like your best friends heading out on mission without you there to say goodbye. That, and you knew neither of them would bother to eat if you didn’t feed them. Which is how you ended up at a table with Bucky and Steve watching them eat in silence while you sipped at your coffee.

You noticed that for once, they both seemed to be just as exhausted as you. Normally, they were bright-eyed and making fun of you for lagging behind. Not that they’d do that when you got up oh-god-it’s-early just to feed them.

Steve leaned back in his seat with a sigh. “Thanks for feeding us. Remember, we’re going dark as soon as we leave the tower. You won’t hear from us unless there’s a problem until we’re on our way back.”

You nodded in acknowledgement. You didn’t like it, but you understood.

Steve stood and finished off his coffee. He put the mug down and glanced at Bucky. “We’ve got to go, Buck.” He left without waiting for a response, patting your shoulder on the way by.

Bucky nodded as he finished shoveling his eggs into his mouth. He washed them down with his coffee then stood. He smiled down at you. “Thanks for taking care of us, doll.”

You returned the smile. “It’s not a problem, Bucky. Be careful.”

He braced one hand on the back of your chair and the other on the table as he leaned over you. “Always am, sweetheart.”

“Buck, come on!” Steve hollered from down the hall, making you laugh. It was like this every mission.

Bucky shook his head with a roll of his eyes. Leaning forward, he pressed a firm but swift kiss to your lips before hurrying after his best friend. “See you in a week,” he yelled over his shoulder as he went.

You hadn’t moved since Bucky’s lips had left yours. That wasn’t the kind of relationship you two had. You were friends. That’s it. Not that you hadn’t wished for more on occasion, but you’d never dare make a move. But he’d kissed you. Kissed you like it was nothing. You took a deep breath. It probably was nothing to him. Just a tired thank you. An absent-minded gesture.

You ran a hand down your tired face as you stood to clear away the plates. “Damnit, Barnes,” you muttered to yourself as you over thought every interaction the two of you had ever had.

***

“You okay?” Steve asked as he kicked the side of Bucky’s foot.

The brunet’s head jerked up, his brow furrowed. “I feel like I forgot something important, but I can’t think of what it might be.”

Steve shrugged. “It can’t be that important then. Quit stressing.”

Bucky nodded absently, his mind running over everything he’d done as he prepared to leave that morning. Suddenly, he froze and bolted upright. “Oh no. Shit.”

“What?” Steve asked, his friend’s tension affecting his own stance.

Bucky simply stared at him with wide eyes. “Oh God, Steve. What did I do?”

“I don’t know, Bucky, what did you do?” Cap asked, feeling slightly amused.

“I kissed Y/N.”

His brow lifted in surprise. When did this happen? And why did it take Buck so long to remember? What the hell happened after he left the table? “You did?”

Buck hopped to his feet and started pacing. “What if she didn’t like it? What if she did? What if she’s pissed? What if—”

“Bucky,” Steve said louder than necessary. “Calm down. There’s nothing you can do about it until we get home.”

***

The week passed slowly as you waited for Bucky to come home. That stupid, simple kiss was tearing you up inside. Obviously, it was just a friend thing, right? Like, he was just moving your friendship to the next level. He’d kissed the top of your head or your forehead before. This was no different, right? But what if it was?

And it was that what if that had you in the gym working on the punching bag. Because the truth was, you very much wanted it to mean more than friendship. That, even though he was tired, he’d done it because he thought about kissing you all the time. You were terrified that he wouldn’t bring it up. Even more terrified that he would, only to assure you that it meant nothing.

Ugh. Stupid, super soldier. You released a series of punches and kicks on the bag trying to work out your irritation. Finally, you stepped back, panting as you attempted to catch your breath.

“Who pissed you off, sweetheart?” that honey rich voice came from behind you and you spun to find Bucky watching you with his arms crossed over his chest.

You smiled seeing him safe and whole and some of the tension in your chest eased. Without thought, you moved to him and hugged him. “Glad you’re back,” you told him as you stepped away. “Steve okay?”

He nodded and rubbed and hand across the back of his neck. “Yeah, he’s good.” He looked at you then down at the floor. “Listen…”

He trailed off and his cheeks flushed. You tilted your head and waited for him to continue. He sighed and his shoulders slumped forward. “I’m sorry about the kiss. I was tired and wasn’t thinking.”

Your heart shriveled just a bit with his words, but you really hadn’t expected any different. You tried your best to keep the smile on your face. “Don’t worry about it, Buck. It’s fine.”

His eyes ran over your face, probably trying to see if you were telling the truth. You gestured over your shoulder toward the locker rooms. “I’m going to hit the shower. I’ll see you later.”

Just as you turned away from him, a hand fell on your arm, stopping you. You turned slightly to look at him again. Those deep blue eyes seemed to see right through you. “Did you…did you want me to kiss you?”

He was worried about hurting you. You gave him a soft smile as your heart twinged then you repeated your earlier words. “Don’t worry about it, Buck. It’s fine.”

The corner of his mouth kicked up and he pulled you toward him. “Would you just shut up and kiss me already?” A moment later his lips found yours. This time you took the opportunity to savor it. His lips were soft but earnest as they moved against yours. His metal arm slipped around your waist to hold you close to him. His other hand threaded into your hair to hold your head in place. His tongue slipped into your mouth pulling a moan from you.

Finally. You leaned back just far enough to breathe. “Damn, Bucky.”

He gave you that grin that never failed to make you smile. It was infectious. He leaned forward and kissed you again. A firm but swift kiss that mirrored the first one he’d given you. “Missed you.”

You hummed in agreement as you fisted your hands in his shirt and pulled him back to you for another kiss. This time it was hot. Needy. Wanting. Bucky’s lips moved from yours to run along the line of your jaw, talking as he went. “Thought about you every day. Worried I fucked up. Drove Steve fucking nuts talking about you.” His lips traced the column of your throat before he licked his way back up to your ear. He tugged the lobe into his mouth to scrape it with his teeth. “Pissed at myself for not giving you the kiss you deserved.”

You whimpered. There was absolutely no other word you could give the sound that came from your mouth. Bucky groaned in response and squeezed your thighs. “Jump, baby.” You obeyed and he lifted so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He moved you across the gym and into the women’s locker room. He sat you down only long enough to strip your leggings from you, your panties following immediately after. A second later your legs were wrapped back around him as he backed you into a wall.

The cold tile did little to soothe your heated skin. Bucky’s fingers slid through your folds as he pressed his forehead to yours. “Jesus, sweetheart. You’re killing me here.”

You tugged at his hair and he hissed. Those blue eyes narrowed in warning and you tugged again. His lips found yours again, feeding, begging. Two fingers slid into your core and he curled them. You rocked against him and let out a half scream as he found that perfect spot. His mouth moved to your throat where he bit and sucked, marking you as his as he fucked you with his fingers. “Fuck, Bucky. I have never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.”

He pulled his fingers from you and fumbled with his pants. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Finally, he freed his heavy cock from the confines of his uniform. Lowering the two of you onto the nearby bench, his hands wrapped around your waist to lift you up and positioned himself at your opening. “Tell me you want this, baby.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders to help balance yourself. You looked deep into his eyes and said, “Barnes, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will shoot you.”

He laughed and slammed himself into you with no further warning. You gripped his shoulders and arched your back. He was long and thick and it had been awhile for you. Your pussy ached where he stretched and filled you beyond anything you’d felt before. And god, did it feel good. You rocked against him to tell him you were ready and he immediately began to pump in and out of you.

Every movement sent jolts of pleasure straight to your core. That knot was already tightening, preparing to bring you a wave of ecstasy. Your hold on Bucky tightened as he hammered into you. This wasn’t love making, it was just a good old-fashioned fucking. This was the release of the tension that had been building between the two of you from the moment you met.

Bucky hissed. “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum. Cum for me, baby. Show me how much you need me. Soak my cock, baby.” His thumb found your clit and flicked over it as he spoke. The combination of the two was enough to push you over the edge. As your pussy clenched around his cock, he followed you over the peak.

You were both panting as you dropped your head onto his shoulder. He was still buried inside of you, but you weren’t inclined to move at the moment. Too happy. Too content. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “That was fucking amazing,” he said drawing a laugh from you. You leaned back to look at him and his hands settled on your hips to hold you steady. His thumbs rubbed on the bare skin he found beneath your top.

Looking down, you realized he was still fully clothed. “Well, this hardly seems fair.”

And there was that grin again before he kissed you slow and sweet. “What do you say, we move this to your bedroom and we’ll both get naked this time?”

***

The next morning you stirred, shifting on your sheets as you tried to figure out what had woken you. You smiled as you felt the soft kisses trailing up the length of your spine. Letting out a moan of contentment, you turned to see your soldier. He held himself over you and mirrored your smile. You laid a hand along the side of his face, feeling his early morning stubble. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey.” He leaned down to kiss you in a sweet good morning. Pulling away, he kissed the tip of your nose then pressed his forehead to yours. “I love you, sweetheart. Have for a while.”

“I love you, too, soldier.” You hooked a leg around him and shifted your position so you he was under you and you were straddling his hips. “Let me show you how much.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #celebration summer

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ucsdhealthsciences · 3 years

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SARS-CoV-2 Detectable — Though Likely Not Transmissible — on Hospital Surfaces

The coronavirus that causes COVID-19 also tends to co-locate with one particular type of bacteria

Watching what was happening around the world in early 2020, University of California San Diego School of Medicine researchers knew their region would likely soon be hit with a wave of patients with COVID-19, the infection caused by the coronavirus SARS-CoV-2. They wondered how the virus persists on surfaces, particularly in hospitals, and they knew they had only a small window of time to get started if they wanted to capture a snapshot of the “before” situation — before patients with the infection were admitted.

After a call late one Sunday night, a team assembled in the hospital lobby the next day, ready to swab.

In the resulting study, described June 8, 2021 in Microbiome, researchers swabbed patient room surfaces before, during and after occupancy, and repeatedly collected samples from the skin, noses and stool of COVID-19 patients and their health care workers over time. In total, they tested 972 hospital-associated samples for traces of SARS-CoV-2 over two months.

“Although it feels like we’ve been living with this virus for a long time, the study of the interactions between SARS-CoV-2 and other microbes is still new, and we still have a lot of questions,” said co-senior author Sarah Allard, PhD, assistant project scientist at UC San Diego School of Medicine and Scripps Institution of Oceanography. “The more we know about how a virus interacts with its environment, the better we can understand how it’s transmitted and how we might best disrupt transmission to prevent and treat the disease.”

Their findings: The virus, or at least its genetic signature, abounds. The team detected the virus on the floors next to the beds of patients with COVID-19 (39 percent of samples tested), floors outside patient rooms (29 percent) and surfaces inside the rooms (16 percent). SARS-CoV-2 detection tended to be highest during the first five days after a patient’s onset of symptoms.

The researchers are quick to point out that just because they can detect the virus’ unique genetic signatures on a surface, it doesn’t mean the virus is able to infect people. Since they started the study, it has been well documented that SARS-CoV-2 spreads primarily through close human interactions, while surface transmission is likely very rare. What’s more, none of the health care workers actively caring for patients in the study tested positive for the virus. The study focused on one hospital, but the researchers expect they would find similar results in any hospital treating patients with COVID-19.

“This is huge on so many levels,” said co-senior author Daniel Sweeney, MD, critical care and infectious disease physician at UC San Diego Health. “We need to know if our personal protective equipment, PPE, is adequate, and fortunately we know now that things like masks, gloves, gowns and face shields really do work. This pandemic has been a global disaster, but it could’ve been even worse if our health care workers were getting infected, especially if we didn’t know why.”

Viruses don’t typically hang out alone. Whether on people or surfaces, they are part of complex communities known as microbiomes, which may include a variety of other viruses, bacteria and additional microbes. In looking for the coronavirus, the team discovered something else: one particular type of bacteria from the genus Rothia was found alongside SARS-CoV-2 more often than not, regardless of collection site. In other words, the presence of Rothia strongly predicted that they would also detect SARS-CoV-2 in the same sample.

“Why that relationship?” asked Allard. “Does the bacteria help the virus survive, or vice versa? Or is it just that these bacteria are associated with the underlying medical conditions that put patients at higher risk for severe COVID-19 in the first place? That’s an area for future research.”

The study was a challenge from the beginning, and became more difficult as the hospital’s intensive care unit began to take in more patients with COVID-19. The team specifically designed their approach to leverage existing resources to not stress the supply chain needed for clinical care and testing. In a separate effort, some of the team and their colleagues developed alternative swabs for research purposes. They collected samples as quickly and as efficiently as possible to minimize disruption to patient care. The samples were transported back to the lab in alcohol, preserving the virus for analysis but not exposing researchers to active organisms.

“A lot of people did a lot of basic and clinical research these last few months, and we did it well,” Sweeney said. “We added to our infrastructure. We acquired the experience. I hope the same sort of focus, drive and spirit carry forward in whatever comes next.”

#science #medicine #sars-cov-2 #covid-19 #microbiology #bioinformatics #virology #building environment #infectious disease #microbiome #public health #hospitals #academic medicine #ucsd #uc san diego

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delaber · 3 years

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Could you do like a short piece where Daveed and reader are a thing but not really a couple. And he ruins it by not wanting more but comes back and apologises. Thanks!

Title: Stepping Up

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader

Note: Thanks anon! First time I’m writing Daveed. This was fun and challenging.

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: mentions of sex. Slight angst. I think that’s it but let me know

"U up?"

Two words and a question mark. That was all it took and you felt your heart start pounding in your chest. Your feet started moving around, unable to stay in one place. You had to shred the duvet, you had started sweating. Two words and a fucking question mark and he could make your body betray you. Two words and you were ready for him.

You had to actively remind yourself that you were in withdrawal. That you couldn't hit him back no matter what. That he hadn't treated you the way you deserved. That he was fine and sweet and wonderful - but a dick nonetheless.

Still, it was hard to resist temptation. If you finally allowed yourself to text him back he would be here in a jiffy. You needed it. You missed him. And suddenly everything came rushing back: Daveed's athletic body the first time you'd seen him jump around on stage, his smile as he had introduced himself to you, his teasing manner as he had thrown around millions of jokes to you and the rest of your cast-mates. How you had already fallen for his wicked charms by the end of the first rehearsal. How you had flirted desperately to get him to notice you, and how he had finally pulled you backstage and kissed you in secret. It had all lead to a daring affair between the two of you, Daveed fucking you roughly every day in between rehearsals and later in between shows. His long fingers curling inside you while you moaned his name, the taste of him on your lips, his demanding movements as he took you in various positions all over your dressing room.

And no one could know. Not even Jas or Leslie or Oak. Daveed had made you promise not to tell - that this was your personal thing. You had agreed and said 'of course' right before he had hoisted you up beside the powder room mirror and slid into you. At first, the sneaking around had been nothing but arousing - you one hundred percent condoned it; your only goal back then had been to keep fucking Daveed in your costumes, the blue revolutionary jacket always open against his toned chest, but as the weeks proceeded, you felt yourself wanting more from him.

You wanted to be able to snog him senseless every time you saw him. You wanted to intertwine your fingers with his in public. Treat him to dinner. Take him home. Watch movies on lazy Sundays. Run your hands over his abs in your own bed. Waking up to find him covering your body with kisses.

But Daveed had said no. That he didn't want those things. That he didn't want to engage in anything serious with someone he worked with. That you were just co-workers who helped each other relieve some of the stress that the highly demanding job craved. Nothing more. In other words, you deduced that you were his stress ball - and you got angry! You yelled, and you threatened to kick him out of your dressing room, and you even threw a small lipstick at him, but his chocolate brown eyes were so sweet and so kind that you eventually felt yourself nodding along to his arguments of how the two of you could mess up the entire production if you started dating and things didn't work out. You sighed and you nodded and you agreed with him. And not even ten minutes later had he pulled off your panties, bent you over the couch, and dropped to his knees behind you. A lousy way to make up for it.

You had let it continue like this for eight months until his contract finally ran out and you were no longer co-workers. You had been looking forward to this. On his last night at the theatre, Daveed had stumbled into your dressing room in his Jefferson robe. The door behind him had barely closed before he had ripped your corset open, his warm fingers immediately rolling your nipples they way he knew you liked it. He had pressed his pelvis up against you and whispered in your ear that he had been hard on stage all night, patiently waiting for the show to be over so he could come see you. And you had decided that now was the time; slowly, you had turned around in his arms with a smirk and you had asked him out seeing as you wouldn't be working together anymore. You had thought it was a sure thing. But Daveed had pulled down your pants mumbling "My contract's in effect until tomorrow," right before you had felt his tongue on your skin.

"So what happens if I ask you again tomorrow?" You'd panted as his tongue was joined by his fingers.

"It'll still be a no," he grinned up at you, apparently unaware of your aching heart. He was a good man. If he knew the effect he had on you, he would've either stepped back or stepped up.

"And what happens after tonight?" You'd asked.

"We keep fucking," he had grinned with a content sigh as he spread your legs apart.

That was five weeks ago.

Now you had endured five weeks of Daveed constantly texting you that he was stressed, or hard, or thinking about you. Five weeks of him sending you dirty texts explicitly describing what he wanted to do to you. Five weeks of you ignoring him completely.

And now you were staring at his text consisting of two words and a question mark, contemplating if a small toe-dip into your old addiction was such a catastrophe. You felt your phone buzz in your hand as another text from him ticked in: 'I know you're reading my texts. Please stop ignoring me I miss you.'

You almost choked. In the year you'd known Daveed this was the most sensitive he'd ever gotten with you. You read the second text over and over and over again contemplating what to do; text him back? Call him? Or keep ignoring him?

In the end, you decided to call him up. He needed to be told of. He answered before the fourth ring.

"Hey," he almost whispered.

"Daveed," you let out a sigh, "you can't keep texting me."

"I know. I know I'm sorry," he mumbled, "are you mad at me?"

"Of course I'm not mad at you," you said quietly, "but things can't go on like this."

"I know... Are you in love with me?" He said abruptly but in a soft voice.

You went completely quiet when you felt your heart ache. So he did know about it. He had managed to put two and two together... "it isn't fair of you to ask me that," you almost whispered, "you know I am."

Daveed went quiet too and you could hear his steady breathing on the other end of the phone line. After a couple of seconds he finally said, "can I come over?"

"I'm not sure it's a good idea."

"Please. I have to see you. I want to apologise properly," he groaned painfully, "can I please come over?"

Unable to resist him, you breathed a short "yes," and ten minutes later opened the door to him.

"Hey," his face curled up in a smile the minute you came into sight. He stepped closer to you, and pulled you in for a soft hug, "you look cute."

"Yeah, well thanks," you mumbled against his neck. You didn't want to reciprocate his compliment even though he did look awfully cute too.

He followed you to the living room.

"Whiskey?" You asked him.

"Nah, I gotta stay sober for this," he shook his head.

"Sober for what?" You asked quietly.

"I - ehm - I wanted to apologise. Like a man," he looked at you with a firm gaze, "I've been a dick and I've been treating you badly."

"Yeah," you nodded and folded your arms across your chest, "you've been acting like an ass. When did you realise?"

"It's embarrassing for me, but I honestly didn't realise before you started ignoring me. I was so used to having you around me all the time, and suddenly I missed you like crazy," he took a deep breath before he continued, "I was so sexually frustrated that I called a friend back home in California and told him about it all. I thought he would agree with me and call you stone-cold or something like that but instead he called me an idiot. He called me out for the way I've been treating you. He made me realise why you wanted to ask me out. I didn't even realise. I'm very sorry."

"It's okay," you said softly, "I know you didn't mean to."

"Good," Daveed nodded and looked like a schoolboy who'd just been scolded and you suddenly felt bad for him.

"I didn't mean to ignore your texts. After your time was up at the theatre, I wanted to keep seeing you - it was just too rough. I had to back off."

"I'm glad you took care of yourself. It's made me realise some stuff about myself that I want to change. I want to be better."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

"Let me start by making it up to you," he smiled, "tomorrow's Valentines day. Let me treat you to dinner. Give you the proper date you deserve."

"I'm not going on a date with you just because you're sexually frustrated and you know I'm an easy fuck," you huffed.

"No! Never! But how about going on a date with me because I like you and I want to see where it could go?"

You shot him a look.

"I understand if you don't believe me but in the past couple of weeks I haven't just missed having sex with you. I've really missed... you. The goofing around, the banter, your infectious laughter. I want to treat you to a date. Let me take you out."

You looked at him suspiciously, "romantically?"

"Yes. Rafa was right. I have a crush on you too. Let's see where this goes."

A small smile crept onto your lips, "okay. If you're sure."

"I'm positive," he grinned and pulled you in for a hug, "fuck I've missed you."

@ramp-it-up

#Valentine'sDaveedChallenge #ValentinesDaveed #daveed diggs #daveed x reader

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ko-fanatic · 3 years

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Blood, Guts and Chocolate Cake

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Danganronpa

Pairings: IshiMondo

Summary:

Mondo Owada, the Ultimate Bodyguard, is entering a four year contract with one Kiyotaka Ishimaru, the Ultimate Idol. It makes sense, two Ultimates put together for their high school careers, and he could use the steady pay check to send home to Daiya; those medical bills were a bitch, and it was his fault the accident happened in the first place.

It was supposed to be easy, guard the cutesy, clean-cut idol from perverts and stalkers, no big deal! However, the world's perception of Kiyotaka Ishimaru was far different than what the young idol had become. During the first few months before even stepping into Hope's Peak, he's more worried for the young boy than he's ever been for anyone before.

TW: Alcohol, and eating disorders (both restrictive behaviours and B/P), mentions of disability, underage sex/sexualisation, drugs

The hallways of this damn building were too long.

That was definitely the first impression Mondo got, being led down said monotonous hallways by a young woman with an expression which implied that she simply wasn’t paid enough to care about small talk. Not that he had any room to judge, hands shoved in his pockets and a permanent scowl on his face. He might’ve been going to review an upcoming contract, but the best thing about his position was that there was no need to be all smiley; Hope Peak’s choice for Ultimate Bodyguard was all the credentials he needed at this point.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel a bit intimidated by how long he would be working with these record label types. He couldn’t deny it made sense - hire the Ultimate Bodyguard to protect the Ultimate Idol, sound logic; it was just that a four year contract was… a lot. That wasn’t even thinking about the fact he was going to be glued to the guy’s hip for all that time, having to get along no matter what. Would he even have time to make friends of his own? Doubtful. Still, a paycheck was a paycheck, and he’d have to go to some highschool anyway, so kill two birds with one stone.

He’d never had an issue smiling through vapid celebrity bullshit before. It was going to be an easy ride, too; from what he knew, the guy was as prim and proper as they came. Real boy next door image. Easy to take care of, and mainly just telling overzealous fans to back the fuck up. Simple.

His inner monologue was broken by an abrupt stop, the woman only sending a bored glance his way before knocking. The door was pushed ajar with the quiet muttering of “Mondo Owada to see you, gentlemen”, before he was unceremoniously shepherded into the room.

It was just as big as you’d expect from a building like this, with a gargantuan desk and several business-types sitting across from him. They were even backlit by a floor-to-ceiling window showing Tokyo in all its glory - like some cheesy ass movie. Still, taking a cursory glance around the room, he couldn’t see anyone fitting the description of “teen idol”, let alone Ishimaru himself...

“Owada-san, good afternoon!” One of the men greeted cheerfully, clasping his hand in one of those firm yet professional grips he’d gotten used to since rising up in his career, “My name is Shiro Kamei, and these gentlemen are Kenshin Aki and Yutaka Hayashida. We’re Kiyotaka Ishimaru-san’s managers.”

“Well, that answers one question,” He shrugged, not sugarcoating his words, but not being as rude as he certainly could be, “But I don’t see Ishimaru-san around. If I’m meeting with anyone, I personally think it should be with the guy I’m gonna be with 24/7, for the next four years.”

“Of course!” Kamei-san chirped, far too cheerful for his taste, especially considering the stench of ass-kissing that followed it. Not sincere, but too many meetings like this one had trained him to swallow down the vomit that threatened to spew from the fakeness of it all.

“Ishimaru-san will be here soon,” Hyashida-san intoned, temperament a bit more palatable than Mr Chipper, “He’s a rather busy young man, being an idol of his caliber. Dance practice is just wrapping up, any minute now, so we can use this time to have a little chat - go through expectations for your role and such.”

Mondo managed to stop himself raising an eyebrow at that. Like he wasn’t the best bodyguard in Japan. He guessed it was something needed for a job of this sort, not temping or whatever, and so he settled down for a bunch of timewasting jabber.

Or, it was, until a certain request caught his attention.

“We also expect him to be kept out of, well… trouble…”

“Thought he was a cutesy, innocent kid?” He frowned, sitting a little straighter in his seat, attention piqued, “I’m guessing he’s the kind to get mouth-breathers and creeps, huh?”

The three men looked a little more caged at that remark. A couple cleared throats, a few tugged collars and cuffs, awkward air.

“Yes, there have been incidents, but nothing previous security couldn’t handle,” Aki-san informed, “The issue is a recent change in attitude. Nothing much, but tugging on the leash more than necessary, if you understand my meaning.”

He did. Part of him wanted to object to the idea that a sixteen year old needed to be kept on a leash at all, but idol shit was full of PR.

“So boy next door is going through a little rebellion, and you want me to make sure it stays on the DL,” He shrugged, “Got it.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that, Owada-san -!”

Kamei-san was interrupted by several short, sharp raps, door opening to reveal the man of the hour.

Ishimaru was pretty, no denying that. His eyes were what really caught everyone’s attention; bright, wide and doll-like. That said nothing about his facial structure - cheekbones and jawline and everything prominent - or his barbie doll-esque frame. He was probably one of the slimmest people Mondo had ever seen, at least in person. Well, and outside of a hospital. The media went absolutely gaga over his thigh gap, his lithe abs and delicate hip bones.

He personally prefers a little more meat on the bones, a little less fragile, but he guessed it was an idol’s job to appeal to the masses.

“Good morning, everybody!” He beams, but honestly? The sunshine emanating from him is a lot warmer - a lot more real - than Kamei-san. He actually had to take a second to come back to himself, knocked off equilibrium. The power of the Ultimate Idol, for you.

“Kiyotaka, this is Mon -”

“Mondo Owada,” He cuts in, wanting to introduce himself, cut the preamble, and offers his hand to shake, “‘M gonna be the one guarding you.”

Ishimaru gives him a once over, and for two seconds he thinks he sees a smirk pull at the corner of the young man’s lips, but he soon brushes it off as a trick of the light.

“Thank you so much for accepting our proposition, Owada-san!” He grins, and Mondo hates his little bi heart at that moment. Ishimaru clasps his hand. He can’t help but feel that they’re too calloused for a pretty boy idol, but he doesn’t dwell on it, “I hope we get along well!”

He’s loud, but the words are sweet, and Mondo relaxes a little bit. Easy job, as he thought.

---

Mondo was proven wrong in a matter of three days into his contract. He’d certainly been proven wrong far quicker than that before; however, in terms of sheer what-the-fuckery-is-this, this situation took the cake.

The train journey to the first tour destination wasn’t bad, if tedious. Kid spent all his time reading, and Mondo had no clue how he didn’t puke all over the place from staring at the pages. He’d looked at his phone for about five minutes and was ready to lie down and accept his death.

… Trains were not his prefered method of transportation…

Ishimaru had passed on the sandwiches on offer, but so did Mondo. No big deal. Those things sucked ass, and maybe the kid was more nauseous than he seemed. Wish that was him, considering he was pretty sure his face was pale green.

Settling into the hotel was fine, as was the tech set up in the venue. Stress emanating off everyone, but pretty normal as far as that shit was concerned. Ishimaru was dragged between costume fittings, tech run throughs and other things that just passed in a blur.

No, what really proved to Mondo that the pretty boy idol was going through an actual rebellious phase, was what he walked in on at 11:56pm, night three.

He’d gotten up due to a serious inability to sleep. Seriously, did he manage to get jet lag without even switching time zones? Nah, didn’t work like that. Maybe it was second hand adrenaline from the performance being tomorrow. Ishimaru might not make his kind of music, but the guy had this infectious enthusiasm for it all. He’d be backstage, too; premo location to see everything up close. He couldn’t help the slight smile on his face, in spite of how tired he felt.

Any fleeting, fuzzy feelings disappeared, however, when he walked into the main area of their hotel suite.

There stood Ishimaru, back to him, very much not dressed for bed. His jeans were so tight they looked spray painted on, not to mention the sequined top that cut off to show a tantalising flash of milky pale skin.

“Where’re you off to?”

His question seemed to startle the kid, who practically jumped three feet in the air, hand clutching his chest as he whirled on him.

“Fuck, what’s your problem?” He gasped out. Mondo couldn’t help but let his eyes widen, having not heard the boy swear since they met. Admittedly, it was only a few days, but Ishimaru just gave off such an innocent vibe. He’d questioned if the boy even knew a swear word for a while.

“The guy I’m meant to protect is running off into the city at midnight, and obviously didn’t plan to tell me,” He answered bluntly, “So, come on, where’re you trying to slink off to?”

“None of your business,” He sniffed, shoulders squaring, “And stop… talking to me like that. Like I’m a child. It’s annoying as shit.”

“Alright, sor-ry, jeez,” He apologised, hands up in surrender, “Let me just grab my coat and -”

“No!” Ishimaru ground out, “I’m going out, you're staying here, and my managers are none the wiser, got it?”

Oh, that sneaky fucker. While Mondo was all for personal freedom, no way was the scrawny kid going out there to get attacked and murdered in some urine soaked alleyway. For one, it’d completely fuck up his plans for the next four years - no money to send back to Daiya, and he seriously doubted Hope’s Peak would want an Ultimate Bodyguard who let the world’s most popular idol get murdered in a matter of days.

“Yeah, no, not happening, kid,” He shut down, reaching over the boy to get his coat, only for hands to press against his chest, stopping him.

“What do you want then? Money?” Ishimaru asked, looking up at him through his lashes. Fuck, the kid really went all out with the makeup; smokey eyeshadow and liner, glossed lips, the whole deal, “Or I can suck your dick?”

He nearly choked at that, face hot as hell and probably an embarrassing shade of red. “N-No! What the fuck?!” He yelled, only earning a shrug in response.

“Look, I need to go out - alone,” Ishimaru began again, arguing a point Mondo simply wasn’t going to agree with, “I need to get a little fucked up, railed into some guy’s mattress, and then I’ll come back. I’ll be here again before sunrise.”

“Tugging on the leash more than necessary”, his ass!

“Sorry, you're talking to the wrong guy,” He dismissed, doing his best impression of Daiya’s you done fucked up voice he could, “Back to bed. Don’t think you’re sneaking out, either. I’m just gonna stay out here all night, make sure you don’t go and get yourself cut up and dumped in the river. Y’know, my job.”

“Fuck you,” Ishimaru spat, storming back to his room with a mutter of ,“Asshole…”

If Mondo knew one thing, it was this… He’d really had no idea what he was signing himself up for.

---

A/N:

WOW, it's been a while since I've written for this fandom. Thank you Taka and Mondo for being an adorable pair of dumbasses and dragging me right back into DR. Hopefully, I'll add to my old fics too, but I've got lots of new ideas I want to play with (Including two other talentswaps and two AUs!)

For now, Ouran fics are on the back burner, I'm afraid. I'm sure I'll be back to them soon enough, but I'm a bit burnt out in my OHSHC obsession, so we'll see.

Also, as always, comments really help and if you want to take any of these concepts and run, go for it! All I ask is a credit and a link if possible! :)

#danganronpa #Dangan Ronpa #dr talentswap #idol!Ishimaru #bodyguard!Mondo #ishimondo #Kiyotaka Ishimaru #mondo oowada #blood guts and chocolate cake series #my fanfiction

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beccascribbles · 4 years

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hi can i request a scenario for kageyama, bokuto and kuroo where they ask you to help them practice volleyball and they get like surprised as to how good their s/o plays too??? maybe s/o could be a part of the women's team :D thank you!!! i love your works so much, thank you for making them ❤️

a/n - i'm glad you enjoy my work! this kind of took me a while (and i kind of feel like i didn't really write bokuto right but eh). i hope you enjoy!

as your relationship was relatively new, he was a bit hesitant to ask you to help him practice

while volleyball was important to him, he also cared about you a lot (he wouldn't have started a relationship with you otherwise) and he didn't want you to think he was prioritising the sport over the time you got to spend together

therefore he approaches you rather hesitantly, volleyball cradled in his arms. his words come out in a sutter and a blush rises on his cheeks

"i didn't get enough practice in this week so i was wondering if you could help me. you don't have to do much. and i won't be so distracted that i can't talk to you.."

you interrupt his nervous rambling by placing a hand on his shoulder, a wide grin appearing on your face

"i'd love to help you, tobio, so stop being so nervous," you laughed, standing up and stretching a bit. "besides, i could use the practice"

practice? he blinked at you in confusion. he didn't really understand why you would need to practice but brushed it aside, his nervousness slipping away as you followed him into his garden, where a volleyball net was set up

his next words were all business, the confidence he felt playing volleyball flooding through him. "i'm going to serve to you and then you can just send the ball over to me"

you nodded, moving to stand on the other side of the court, giving kageyama a quick thumbs up to signal that you were ready

he moved back to begin his jump serve, your eyes trained om his every movement, muscles tensing slightly in preparation

the ball came barreling towards the left of you

reflexively, you adjusted your position, angling your body in the perfect way to receive the ball

it hit your forearms with a bump, going up in an arch towards where the setter would be

kageyama just looked at you, eyes wide. he didn't think he'd ever been more attracted to you than in that moment

"you play volleyball?" he questioned. how had he not realised this before? the loud sigh you released at his words made him aware of how clueless he was towards your after school activities

"really, tobio?" you questioned, hands resting against your hips as you shot him a playful glare. "did you not wonder why i stay so late after school?"

"i thought it was to walk home with me," he blushed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly

this boy was so dense, honestly

you found yourself explaining that you actually played on the women's team, were the libero (that explained why you had received his serve so easily)

"i don't know how you don't know this," you chastised, shaking your head at him. "it's not like i keep it a secret"

"we're still going to practice, right?" he asked, picking the ball up from where it had rolled. "you're not mad at me, are you?"

you rolled your eyes at the worry on his face, how his hands clenched on the ball as he held it between his palms

you called across the court to him. "just get ready to serve already. i'm getting impatient over here"

his mouth tugged up into a smile, not an awkward or forced one, but a genuine one that softened the lines of his face. he nodded slightly, getting ready to serve again

his hand is tangling with yours and he is pulling you towards the gym, a bright grin on his face as you stumble after him

"where are we going, kou?" you question, marvelling at the way your boyfriend can be so energetic after a long day of class

"to play volleyball," he states, his head turning to look at you slightly as he pushes open the door to the gym. neither of you are dressed for it, but he doesn't seem to notice as he walks over to set up the net

you follow, helping him when needed. as he rushes to get a ball, you pull your hair away from your face, tying it up

when he returns, he hands the ball to you with a wide grin. you already know what he wants before he even asks the question. "can you set for me, babe?"

even if you wanted to say no, with him looking at you with those wide eyes and a pleading pout, it would be almost impossible

"sure!"

the next thing he knows, you are putting up the ball for him in the perfect position, synching up with his moments after a couple sets. the ball hits the other side of the net with a resounding crack as he slams it down on the sideline

he spins to face you, mouth hanging open in shock as he stares at you. it takes him a moment to process that you were the one who set that ball for him

now, he probably knows that you play volleyball (it's a topic you talk about a fair bit). however, he's never seen you play due to his own volleyball commitments keeping him busy... and he definitely didn't expect you to be this good

"huh?" he says, running towards you to grab your wrists, pulling you to him in excitement. "how? you're fucking amazing, y/n. like, for a moment, i forgot it was you setting for me"

"i'm the starting setter for a reason, kou," you laugh as he begins to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet

he is clearly very proud of you for this feat, crushing you against his chest in a hug. his excitement is infectious. you can almost feel it seeping into you as you return his hug

"does this mean we can play volleyball together more often?" he asks as he pulls away, though his arms still remain wrapped around your waist

you let out a soft giggle, reaching up to place a soft kiss to his jaw. "yep!"

at that word of confirmation, you can forget about worrying you won't get enough practice in

whenever akaashi is too busy (or just tells bokuto to go away - he needs a break from the boy sometimes), he will come running to you, a volleyball in his hand

forget saying no. that isn't an option, not when he is looking at you with such hope

and, to be honest, spending time with your boyfriend more than makes up for the ache in your arms at having to set for him so much

most of the time you spent together involved studying (it was a bit sad really, but you were third years, and, if you wanted to make time for each other, it meant compromising)

so, because of this kuroo proposed that you help him with volleyball practice, this being the other thing that occupies his time

you readily agreed, taking any moment you could steal with your boyfriend, especially away from the stress of studying for chemistry (and hearing his ridiculous science jokes that were supposed 'to help you remember the content')

when you arrive at the gym to help him with extra practice, his mouth drops open in shock at the sight of you in your training gear, knee pads dangling from your grip

the grin that spreads across his face is down right devilish as he strides towards you, an arm wrapping around your waist as he presses a kiss to your lips. "don't you look hot, kitten? think you can play as well as your appearance suggests?"

you pull away from him, an indignant look on your face as you poke his chest

he chuckles at the expression, grin widening at the words that fall from your mouth. "why don't i show you how good i am?"

"bit cocky, aren't you?" he teases, walking away from you to grab some volleyballs. he throws one to you, which you catch deftly, as he moves towards the end line

"i call it confidence," you said, your lips pulling up in a smirk as you moved to stand beside him. "working on serves, are we?"

"yeah," says kuroo, walking backwards a couple steps in preparation. you scoot to the side slightly to give him more space. "i'm working on improving my jump serve so it's more reliable in games. it's almost there but i just need to fine tune the accuracy a bit by adjusting the angle i'm hitting it at. give me a spot to aim at?"

"zone 5?" you question, voice hinting at a slight uncertainty. you were unsure if he wanted you be more specific, choosing a specific spot in the zone. he seems satisfied by your response, giving a nod

you watch as he does he run up, tossing the ball up in the air and jumping to hit it back down on the other side. with narrowed eyes, you follow the balls trajectory. it lands in court, but in zone 6

"shit," he curses, jogging over to collect the ball

"want me to aim in the same place?" you question, spacing out your run up. he watches you with raised eyebrows

"sure you don't want to start with an over-hand serve?"

"nope," you say, giving him a wide grin. you are a pinch server on your team, so, though you may not get a lot of game time, you have the team's trust to nail a serve at a crucial moment. might as well show off a bit in front of your boyfriend

you aim right for the far corner of zone 5 with brutal accuracy. that is where it hits, the sound the ball makes as it slams against the floor resounding around the gym

the volleyball in kuroo's grip falls to the floor as he stares at you. it is rare to see him lose compusure so you treasure this moment as he stutters out, "so... you play volleyball as well? think you can give me some pointers?"

his teasing demeanour quickly returns though as he makes his way over to you with both the volleyballs, "i could probably receive that with no problem though"

#hq requests #hq headcanons #hq hcs #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #kageyama fluff #kageyama headcanons #kageyama x reader #bokuto headcanons #bokuto x reader #bokuto x y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo headcanons

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hoothalcyon · 4 years

Text

Nyx and Ethari as Travel Companions: How They Could Work

seeing as I love both characters, I thought it’d be interesting to explore the ways in which they’re different as well as what kind of travel companions they’d be! credit for this idea goes to @beautifulterriblequeen :)

i’m having trouble coming up with where exactly they’d be headed, so for this post I’ll be looking into the current states of their characters and the ways in which they could help each other.

this post is LONG so beware lmao

the first idea i can think of is how blatantly opposite the two are. Nyx’s entire character represents being free and living without constraints, and her wings help her achieve this unique lifestyle. she’s a nomad and a thief, relinquishing herself from: a stable, down to earth lifestyle, and proper morals. she does what she wants because she finds entertainment in it as well as a means of providing for herself and living. she steals because she has to and wants to. I’ll get more into how this could also cause her to face disadvantages later on.

ethari is so very different. in s3 we see how he is bound to his devastating grief for runaan and the societal expectations that the silvergrove imposes. he ghosts rayla because he does not have the luxury of autonomy and individual choice, and he regrets it. as I mentioned earlier, he is in heavy grief, which no doubt has taken over his life, due to everything he considered so significant in his life shattering and breaking before his eyes. although the silvergrove has provided many benefits to his life in the past, such as meeting his husband and friend group, keeping him and the other elves safe, giving him a stable occupation which he seems to like, it can also be accounted when recognizing the negatives present in his life.

back to how nyx’s lifestyle could affect her negatively. the state of her day to day is ambiguous, and whether she has a group of other skywing friends or she is completely by herself is up for debate and to the audience’s imagination. personally, i like to hc she’s completely alone it’s for the angst, so it’s no surprise to anyone how this can affect someone negatively. loneliness is debilitating, and it affects one’s self worth and general mood. i definitely headcanon that underneath nyx’s zany and cunning exterior, there’s a somber, lonely elf.

what caused me to think this? weeelll~

the simple act of her asking why rayla saved her along with her reacting like that when callum started talking about how much he loves and adores rayla tells me that she was not only surprised by the fact that someone thought she was worthy enough to be saved, but that seeing callum love rayla so deeply and adoringly made her realize/remember what a gap she has in her life, and how she doesn’t have someone to be the callum to her rayla. she’s faced with a number of realizations in this scene, and they all pertain to the absent spaces in her personal life. she also probably blames herself for this, so ouch.

this would be very different if nyx and ethari’s roles were reversed in this scenario. ethari would be gazing at what he has lost, rather than never had. he’d be hit with the all-too-real memories of having a close and warm love like rayla and callum do.

so, what can nyx and ethari do for each other? i’ll start with what ethari can do for our lonely rogue.

ethari is no doubt a warm person, his caring nature is unavoidable, and he has a positive outlook in general and on everyone he meets for the first time, and this radiates outwardly. he provides a welcoming aura, and makes you want to be honest and good. this is probably what began to break down runaan’s walls when they met and started courting. ethari’s inherent warmth brought runaan out of his shell, and if he can do that for the repressed leader of the assassins, he can do it for anyone.

ethari would look at this lanky, winged elf and continually give her the benefit of the doubt/leeway, even after she’s given him reason not to and shown her shiftiness. ethari is married to runaan, who knows all the tricks of stealth and achieving what you want while still deceiving your victim/onlookers. nyx could probably only trick ethari once without him having expected it, and then he would begin to see her internal planning and know when she’s about to strike. but like i said, he wouldn’t get mad at her like rayla or anyone else would, and it’s not because of how her resources can help him.

this would surprise nyx, as she’s used to her victims being either surprised, mad, or any other negative emotion. she wouldn’t let this catch up to her until later, when she’s finally been forced to be vulnerable and unable to keep her feelings and thoughts inside, which says a lot, considering how she keeps it all concealed under a zany exterior.

the event in which nyx would be vulnerable is when the two are having an intimate conversation, in which nyx tells ethari about how lonely her lifestyle is and what she’s left behind and omitted as a means of achieving this. i could see the topic of what ethari does for a living coming up, and as he goes into detail about everything he makes and how unique and customized everything is, nyx could have an oh shit moment; some of the things she steals aren’t just random trinkets, they could be customized gifts that someone got from their loved one or were going to give to a loved one. bonus points if one of the things ethari mentions is something he made for rayla or runaan--showing how the things we give to others can sometimes hold even deeper sentimental meaning. she begins to see these things as stories rather than items to be stolen.

another step in this conversation that i could see is nyx becoming slightly on board with accepting that maybe her lifestyle choices aren’t the best, but then retracting once she remembers that with friendships and emotional attachments comes emotional pain and turmoil. having heard ethari’s painful story of watching his husband’s lotus sink, she knows that letting yourself love and be loved often comes with detrimental results. she admits that she’s not sure if she’s ready for everything that friendships and relationships come with, especially the sad parts [insert her gesturing vaguely at ethari]. ethari quickly settles her worries by giving a heartfelt confession of how every minute that he spent basking in the wonderful and warm love he had with runaan was worth the terrible pain that the grief of him dying has left him with. after that, nyx admits another fear she has, one that rayla prodded out of her months before her and ethari’s journey; that she doesn’t know if she’s even worth someone’s attention or love. ethari yet again quickly shuts this down by using an analogy. His analogy involves him comparing the skywing to his crafts, and how his crafts aren’t worthy because of their use or even because of the effort he puts into them, but because they exist, and how that’s always for a reason.

now onto what nyx can do for ethari!

although ethari is a warm, loving person, he’s “in the worst grief of his life”, as stated by devon giehl on the HBMP podcast. his usual light has dimmed into one not as bright as his usual spark, as well as one more easily extinguished. this is where nyx comes in. ethari’s usual younger, larger than life female figure in his life (rayla) isn’t attainable yet, and could possibly be who he’s on his journey to find.

the skywing’s energy is infectious, and the impossibly heavy anchor of grief slowly begins easing up on him as he watches her carefree demeanour and looks across the desert; a place he’s probably only been to a few times. rayla would hate this fact, but nyx would remind ethari of rayla. she’s cunning, quick witted, skilled, and has her own ideals. her offhanded comments and determination would remind him of the many years he housed rayla and got to witness her grow as a person. his heart would soften quickly, and nyx would find herself a new, loyal moonshadow friend. any companionship for ethari is sorely needed by him, and the spirited and energetic skywing would be a perfect match.

ethari and nyx’s journey would provide a sense of a good kind of unfamiliarity to ethari, as he has the chance to guide himself how he wants, rather than how the silvergrove/his culture wants (runaan is obviously exempt from this, i mean like, he’d be free from the silvergrove’s expectations and limitations, not runaan’s). nyx would stress this, and would cheer and holler as the moonshadow begins to let go of his stubborn moonshadow-isms. she shares her outlooks and beliefs on life, and how she tells him it’s good for anyone, especially moonshadows, to begin to think for themselves and break barriers on what is expected of them. ethari finds this difficult, but considering how he’s hinted at being “softer/different than the others”, he might take to this more easily than other moonshadows (*cough* runaan).

that’s all for my thoughts on what kind of travel companions nyx and ethari could be for each other! i might add onto this later on if I think of anything

#tdp #the dragon prince #tdp meta #tdp theories #tdp theory #my posts #tdp nyx #tdp ethari #ethari #hoot writes meta

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myforeverforlife · 4 years

Text

the sacrifice (part three).

Baekhyun sighed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his robes as he stared up at the night sky. The moonlight seemed to be reflected in his one blue eye, the mark of his family's magic. If he could prevent the loss of another innocent life, he would do everything in his power to help.

He only hoped that what he had was enough.

Series Masterlist: ( 1 ) ( 2 )

Pairing: Baekhyun and Fem reader

Word Count: 5,894

Masterlist

Your legs were falling asleep from staying in one position for too long, but you didn't mind. Not when Tanie was lying contentedly in your lap, her fluffy tail lazily sweeping the floor below her.

"You're such a pretty cat, aren't you," you cooed. Tanie meowed as you ran a hand through her fur, marveling at how soft she was. Clearly, Minseok took good care of her.

"Don't go stealing my familiar from me," Minseok joked, looking up from where he sat reading through a thick book. His reading glasses threatened to slip down the bridge of his nose, and he quickly pushed them back up.

"What is a familiar, anyways? A pet?"

"It's a lot more than a pet," Jongdae said, sitting up in his armchair. "A familiar has their own magic. They're meant to help a witch get in touch with the craft, to support their power. Once a familiar chooses their partner, the bond lasts for a lifetime." He grinned as Dotori's bushy tail tickled at the nape of his neck, the chipmunk sitting perched on his shoulder. "It's a deep friendship that lasts for centuries."

"Centuries?" Your eyes widened in disbelief. "How old can witches be?"

"Very old," Minseok said quickly.

Jongdae smirked, leaning forward in his seat. "Grandpa over there gets sensitive when it comes to age. I'm the youngest, and I barely had my 100th birthday a few years ago."

"A hundred?" you exclaimed. Tanie flinched at the sound of your voice, pupils shrinking to tiny pinpoints before she lay back down again.

"But you look so young! You hardly look any older than I do." A soft chuckle from behind you caught your attention, head whirling around to see Baekhyun amused by your reaction.

"Something about practicing the craft prolongs our lifespans," he said. "It keeps ancient people like Minseok alive enough to be a hun — "

Minseok leaped at him, the heavy book falling out of his lap as he threw his hands over Baekhyun's mouth. "Say another word, I dare you," he grumbled.

Baekhyun's body shook with laughter, eyes turning to crescent moons as he weakly pushed the other man off of him. His cheer was infectious, and gladly welcome after the stressful couple of days you all had. The four of you had been poring over books, starting with the revered family grimoires and moving on to the rest of the books in the library in search of a remedy. So far, you hadn't found anything that would rid Sehun of his illness.

At least the witches were comfortable around you now.

The animals had been the first ones to completely warm up to you, Dotori taking a spot on your shoulder whenever she wasn't with Jongdae. Mongryong was always trying to drag you outside to play, while Tanie was content with sitting on you for hours as you pet her.

Seeing how attached their familiars were with you already, it was only a matter of time before you got close to the witches as well. Minseok had been the first one you felt comfortable around, which didn't come as a surprise since he had been taking care of you since your arrival. You had befriended Jongdae over your mutual love of teasing Dotori, which annoyed the chipmunk to no end.

Even Baekhyun, cold and closed-off, was beginning to warm up to you. He was still quiet and reserved around you more than the others, but he managed to start up small conversations here and there. No longer did you have sit in a room with him and feel stifled by the awkward silence. Plus, having Jongdae and Minseok around always helped to bring out his playful personality.

It came as a relief that the three witches were starting to trust you. It was strange to realize that if things had been different, if the king hadn't supported the persecution of thousands of witches, you might have befriended the coven years earlier.

Minseok finally gave up on attacking Baekhyun, confident that the clairvoyant wouldn't be disclosing his age any time soon. "I hate to say it, but I haven't found anything yet that I think would cure the prince — not even the slightest bit. Illnesses of this degree usually require cures in the form of stronger, riskier magic."

Jongdae hummed in agreement, full of regret as he eyed the stack of books lying at his feet. "Neither have I." Throughout your search, both men had taken the time to explain why certain spells or concoctions wouldn't work for Sehun, Minseok drawing from his knowledge of potion-making and Jongdae from his affinity for spell-casting.

"We have to keep looking," you replied, carefully reaching out for your family grimoire. Tanie climbed out of your lap as you replaced her empty spot with the thick tome, running a hand over the cover. You had pored over the pages day after day, unable to find anything that would serve as a remedy for Sehun's specific symptoms.

"The answers may not be in these books," Minseok continued slowly, sensing how your anxiety was starting to bubble up. "But there is still something that we haven't tried."

"What is it?"

Minseok glanced over at Baekhyun, raising an eyebrow. "The full moon is in a few days. Perhaps the scrying stone will show you something that will help us."

A small frown settled on your lips. "But it hasn't shown us anything that we can use."

Baekhyun had already tried, locked in his room with only Mongryong for company as the rest of you waited outside. The stone hadn't been very helpful, only predicting a few changes in weather patterns and pesky bugs and animals threatening to eat through Minseok's garden sometime soon. You weren't sure what Baekhyun did when he was scrying, but you were already able to tell how fickle the skill was. The scrying stone always varied in what it chose to show, a few seconds of the future at one time, a few minutes the next. The only thing Baekhyun could do was wait and watch.

"A witch's power is at its highest during the full moon," Baekhyun explained. “It's become tradition for us to hold a ritual on the night of the full moon, to get in touch with the full extent of our magic."

"Do you think it'll work? That the crystal will lead us to a cure?" you added, eyes widening hopefully.

Baekhyun paused, searching for the right words. "I don't know,” he replied truthfully. "But I have a good feeling about it."

"Don't worry, little witch," Jongdae piped up. "Baekhyun's too modest about his abilities. The full moon's never failed him before."

You nodded, even as Baekhyun glared at his friend. "Okay. I trust you — all of you."

Baekhyun's expression softened, the genuine honesty in your words stirring up an emotion he hadn't felt in a while. He hadn't felt hope like this in ages, a feeling so strong, it was all-consuming.

It was almost like magic.

With a determined glint to his eye, Baekhyun stood up to stare out the window at the darkening afternoon sky. It would only be a couple of days before the full moon was upon them, whether they were ready or not.

"We'd better start preparing as soon as possible," Baekhyun murmured. "Gather all of the materials that we need."

"Is there anything that I can do to help?" you offered. Magic wasn't your thing, but helping prepare for the full moon? Maybe something you would have better luck with.

Baekhyun met your gaze, a full moon of his own nestled in his left eye. It never failed to surprise you how strikingly beautiful both of his eyes were — the brown and blue complementing each other.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "You don't need to force yourself to participate in the ritual, much less help prepare for it."

You shook your head. "It's no bother to me," you admitted. "I want to learn about my family's craft. Plus, it'll help keep me from getting too tangled up in my worries."

Baekhyun quickly glanced over at the other two witches, all of them aware of the couple of times they had found you deep in thought, fighting internally with your own struggles and concerns. "Alright," he said.

"Let's get started."

It was amazing how much time was spent preparing for the ritual in the following days. You hadn't realized how much of practicing witchcraft actually consisted of gathering necessary materials. Minseok had taught you how to gather specific herbs to be burned during the ritual, venturing into the forest with you and Tanie. Some items needs to be picked at certain times, like a handful of yellow dandelions plucked early in the morning right as the sun began to rise. Others were less difficult to find, like a couple of bay leaves from the witches' garden.

Jongdae noticed how you took interest in the strange writing that you couldn't read, and offered to teach you how to read the language of the ancients. It was hard going at first, especially with getting used to a completely different set of written symbols in addition to an entirely new language. But soon enough, you were able to recognize certain letters of the alphabet here and there, much to Jongdae's delight.

While the other two witches taught you about specifics of the craft, Baekhyun took it upon himself to inform you about each step of the full moon's ritual. The four of you would set out late at night, setting everything up before starting the ritual at midnight. The full moon ritual was known for being extremely draining, but Baekhyun assured you that all of it was worth it for the results.

"Using magic on the night of the full moon, it's like nothing else. But it'll be a long night," he warned as both of you sat at the kitchen table. "We might not be back until dawn."

"I'll be fine," you told him, crushing some dried herbs that Minseok had brought up from the cellar. "Nothing like sitting in the cold, dark forest all night."

Baekhyun smiled to himself as you continued to crush the herbs with a mortar and pestle — a task that Minseok had assigned to you. "Make sure you don't fall asleep. It's important that all of us are awake and focused."

"Even if I don't have any magic?"

"Even so. Any break in concentration could interrupt the ritual, cut off access to our power."

You gulped in worry, the importance of the ritual creating cracks in your confidence. Tonight was the night, and it was only a few hours away before the four of you would be heading outside.

Baekhyun eyed you warily, noticing how quiet you had gotten. "It's not too late to back out, if you're afraid."

"I'm not afraid," you replied stiffly. "Just nervous."

"Isn't that the same thing?" The witch laughed when you glared at him, a sight that you still couldn't get used to. "I mean it, Princess. You don't have to participate if you don't feel like it."

You pouted at his choice in nickname for you. It had caught on with all three of the witches, even as you protested and explained that just because you were the crown prince’s cousin, you weren’t necessarily a princess. As much as you complained, you hated to admit that the nickname was already growing on you.

"If I'm not ready now, I don't know if I'll ever be." You returned to crushing the herbs in your bowl with renewed vigor, much to Baekhyun's amusement.

"What's bothering you?" he asked, watching lazily with his arms propped up against the wood of the table.

You worked away in silence for a bit, as if you hadn't even heard his question. "It's just that I have so many ideas about what I'm hoping will happen, and what if none of that turns out to be true? What if this is just another dead end?"

Baekhyun twiddled his fingers as he thought, the mole on his thumb disappearing and reappearing in between the movements of his hands. "It might be," he replied honestly. "I've learned that even with all of its power and potential, sometimes magic doesn't come to us in the ways that we want."

The sudden shift in the mood had you pause in the middle of your work, stopping the rhythmic beating of the pestle. "What do you mean?" you asked carefully.

Baekhyun raised his left eyebrow, the one curved over his blue eye. "Do you know what it means for someone in the Byun clan to have blue eyes?"

You shook your head. His mismatched eyes had intrigued you from the start, wondering what could cause such a unique contrast in colors, and yet you were too shy to ask.

"It's a sign of clairvoyance. My great-great-great-grandmother was the most skilled of our clan. I've heard that she had eyes so light, they almost looked white. She was powerful, not only able to see the future, but to change it as well. You can imagine my disappointment when I didn't even get the standard blue eyes of the Byun clairvoyants — just one." Baekhyun laughed dryly, sarcastically.

"But one is better than none," you argued weakly. "I mean, you have the ability."

"I do, but not as much as I wish I did. Don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with this other eye." He pointed at the pool of warm brown in his right eye, thinking of another person dear to him who once had eyes in the same brown color. "The same as my mother's," he added softly.

Baekhyun coughed suddenly, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "It's just always lingering in the back of my mind, you know? The fact that no matter how hard I try, I don't have the same abilities that my grandmother had."

"It might also be a good thing," you ventured. "It's not fair to have to live up to someone else's fame." With a shrug, you reached down to wipe your palms on your apron. "Sehun may be ill, but he's still a prince — and the only heir, to top it off. All his life, he's been groomed to be the perfect prince, the one to carry on the legacy of his family. But Sehun's not his father, or his grandfather, or anyone else. It's unfair to expect him, and you, to live up to meet standards that were set by someone else. The most that we can hope for is to be the best that we allow ourselves to be."

Baekhyun sat stunned by your sage advice. He had decades of experience on you, and yet you seemed so much wiser. Perhaps you weren't as naive as he thought. "Thank you," he said softly.

"You're welcome." And there it was again, another side to Baekhyun that you hadn't seen before. It made you wonder how much he and the others were learning about you as well, if they were just as surprised by what they discovered.

You weren't the only one learning something new everyday. And yet, there was still so much to discover.

The witching hour was almost upon you, much to your anticipation. Baekhyun was upstairs carefully wrapping up the scrying stone for the short journey the four of you would be taking, while the rest of you waited downstairs. Mongryong waited patiently at your feet, short stump of a tail wagging back and forth.

Unluckily for poor Mongryong, your attention was on Jongdae. He stood beside you, black cape and pointed hat on as Dotori scurried up from his shoulder. She made her way onto his hat, perched on the edge even as it began to droop down. With a short squeak, she began running around over the fabric, much to Jongdae's dismay.

"Hey, quit it!" Jongdae exclaimed, his shouts turning to giggles as the chipmunk scrambled down from his head. In a flash, she disappeared down the back of Jongdae's robes, rendering him a mess or flailing limbs and laughter.

You and Minseok watched on fondly, laughing at the sight of the chipmunk's tickle attack. Dotori reappeared at the collar of Jongdae's robes, tiny nose twitching in glee as she snuggled against him.

"Yeah, yeah. You can try and be all cute with me, but it won't work." Despite his words, Jongdae scooped the tiny fluff of a chipmunk up and indulged her in a few berries. "What did I say about playing around on my hat? You could fall off and hurt yourself."

Dotori only gave a small squeak before turning her attention back to her snacks. "Are all familiars as fond of their owners as she is?" you inquired, meeting the animal's eyes.

"Most are. I've heard of a few that are indifferent, but even those are fiercely loyal to their bonded." Jongdae shrugged. "No pairing is the same."

"Which is a relief," Minseok added with a wide grin. "I don't think I'd be able to handle either Dotori or Mongryong's energy." He leaned down to kiss the top of Tanie's head, the feline resting easily in his arms.

"I leave for two minutes, and you take this opportunity to insult my familiar?" Baekhyun's voice carried down the staircase as he descended. A bag was slung over his shoulder, presumably with the crystal inside. A midnight-blue robe was draped over his body, the fabric rippling smoothly with every step.

Mongryong dashed over to Baekhyun with a cheerful bark, smothering the witch with love as he jumped up against Baekhyun's legs. It was endearing to see how close the witches were with their familiars — from Jongdae's playful relationship with Dotori, to Minseok's easy companionship with Tanie, and Baekhyun and Mongryong's intense loyalty to each other. Funnily enough, they reminded you of how close you and Sehun were.

"Everyone's ready, then?" Jongdae asked, drawing you out of your thoughts.

You nodded, even as you checked to make sure that all of the herbs and candles were tucked away neatly in your bag. The others would have things to carry as well, and you wouldn't hear of them shouldering heavy bags through the forest while you were left with nothing.

The four of you left the warmth and comfort of the house and went out into the frigid night air, goosebumps immediately rising on your skin. You turned to see Minseok putting his own pointed hat on to match Jongdae, while Baekhyun pulled the hood of his robe over his head.

"Why do you wear head coverings during the rituals?" you asked curiously, glancing from person to person. You had read about the tradition of wearing head coverings during the full moon rituals in one of the witches' books, but it had provided no explanation as to why.

The brothers shared a look, but Baekhyun simply shrugged. "No real reason. It's just fun."

Your brows jumped up in disbelief. "They're not important in affecting how the ritual goes? You don't wear them to help harness your magic?"

Baekhyun chuckled. "It's a hat, Princess. Or a cloak, in my case. It's not going to have any effect on our magic."

"Then why do you do it?" you spluttered out.

"Just for the fun of it." Noticing your flabbergasted expression, all three men burst into laughter.

"I don't see what's so funny," you grumbled in your embarrassment. "According to your reasoning, I could be out tonight wearing a handkerchief on my head, and it wouldn't make any difference." "You could, but that would be ridiculous." Baekhyun's lip curled into a smirk.

"No more than wearing a hat for no reason."

Minseok interrupted, wanting to settle the squabble and actually get some work done. "The ancient witches wore headcoverings to protect their identities as they snuck away to meet up in the middle of the night. Now, they're more of a fashion statement." He chuckled, tugging on Baekhyun's blue hood. "Now come on, before we lose our chance. We don't have time to wait for the next full moon."

That sobered everyone up quickly, your small group of witches heading even further into the forest. There were no paths, and most of the journey was spent walking carefully around obstacles with only the light of a lantern for help. Mongryong took on the task of scouting ahead, toddling off into the brush ahead as the rest of you followed. Jongdae even began singing to himself softly to keep himself awake, Baekhyun's voice weaving and blending in to harmonize with the other's. The night chirpings of insects hidden away in the forest added to their music, creating an unexpected melody.

You began to wonder if they were heading back to the stream where you first met Dotori. Mongryong let out a small yip of excitement as he wove back and forth between a cluster of bushes and trees. You followed after him, curious about what had gotten him so eager.

You ducked around a few low-hanging branches, pushing past the last of the greenery only to be rendered speechless in awe by what lay on the other side.

Where you had been expecting a slow moving river was instead a large body of still water, the moonlight reflected perfectly on its smooth surface. The sound of the insects was even louder out here, although you couldn't spot another living creature apart from your small group.

Mongryong walked to the water's edge, toeing the line but not going in. A sudden peal of laughter caught your attention, only to see Tanie mewling repeatedly as Minseok set her down on the pebbles that made up the lake's shore. The cat lifted up her paws gingerly, walking at an awkward angle as she scurried away back to the grass.

"We've been doing this for years, and she still hates walking on the rocks every time," Minseok explained to you with a grin. "If she could have things her way, I'd be carrying her all night."

Tanie finally relaxed as she reached the grass, settling down with her paws tucked underneath and her wise eyes watching over all of you.

Time was of the essence, and the witches wasted no time in setting up. Baekhyun and Minseok got started on making a small fire while Jongdae went to gather water. You watched as he pulled out a bowl from his knapsack, dipping it into the pond. As he lifted it back up, the excess water spilled out from the edges, so luminous that you could have sworn he was collecting liquid moonlight.

With steady, careful steps, Jongdae began to walk in large circles around the area where the rest of you were setting up, his pointed hat bobbing with each step. He was whispering to himself, casting a spell as he dipped his fingers into the bowl of water and letting the droplets fall to the ground every couple of steps. From what you had learned, the water was used to cleanse, to purify the area and to get it ready for the ritual. This was done to keep the magic contained, and to set up protection for the witches inside.

"Y/N, the herbs," Minseok said. You pulled out the small pouch of herbs that you had collected and ground up, proud of your contribution to the ritual. He opened the pouch up just as Baekhyun managed to get a flame going over the tiny pile of dry brush and twigs, a proud smile lighting up the clairvoyant's face.

"Perfect," Minseok breathed out, reaching inside the pouch and slowly letting the ground herbs fall into the fire, immediately producing a sharp fragrance that tickled your nose.

Baekhyun sat down on the bumpy, rock-blanketed ground and rummaged through his bag for his scrying stone. He pulled it out delicately, handling the rounded crystal with extreme care. Mongryong, finally done with playing at the edge of the lake, faithfully came over to lay down beside his owner. The corgi's eyes were fixed on the small crystal, waiting patiently.

You were just as entranced as Mongryong, not knowing what to expect. The crystal hadn't changed in appearance, even as Baekhyun ran his hands over it, eyes closed in concentration.

Jongdae shook out the last drops of water in his bowl before sitting down on your other side, four witches and a couple of familiars forming a ring around the small fire. "We're ready," he stated, adjusting the brim of his hat.

Minseok nodded, continuing to toss the ground-up herbs into the hot flame until none were left. Wordlessly, he reached out to Jongdae and Baekhyun, the other two immediately linking hands with him. You were startled to see them extend their hands towards you as well, waiting for you to complete the circle.

The queasiness in your stomach wasn't because you were scared of the witches — nothing could be farther from the truth. Instead, you were scared of the unknown. This could be your last real chance to find a way to save Sehun, to revive the brightness and vitality to his face that had slowly waned over time. If this didn't work, you weren't sure how you'd be able to deal with it.

But hope was all you had now. Hope, and magic.

You linked hands with the others, Jongdae's still slightly cold from the water while Baekhyun's was warm from sitting close to the fire.

Minseok closed his eyes and began to speak in the old language — the language of the ancient witches. A sudden chill ran down your spine, an unfamiliar tingling sensation prickling over your skin. The feeling almost made you let go, but Jongdae and Baekhyun held on tightly to your hands.

Was this what sorcery felt like?

The cold prickling sensation faded, leaving behind an unusual feeling that seemed to spread throughout your body. It was warmth and comfort all wrapped up in one, and yet left the hairs on your skin standing straight up.

You weren't sure how long the four of you sat there, hands clasped tightly while Minseok chanted under his breath. Baekhyun's earlier warning about staying away kept poking at you in the back of your mind, and you made an effort to keep your eyes open. You didn't dare to look at the others, staring down at your legs crossed beneath you for fear of getting distracted and losing focus.

After what felt like centuries later, Minseok opened his eyes. The after-effects of the ritual still lingered, the magical warmth keeping you cozy even as you sat outside in the cold.

The others finally let go, Baekhyun's hands immediately finding their way to the crystal resting in his lap. He cupped it with both hands, eyes fluttering closed as he inhaled deeply.

You let out a soft gasp as the crystal began to glow, swirling clouds appearing inside the tiny sphere. Even Mongryong was staring at it, his rounded eyes staring solemnly as everyone waited.

"It may take a while," Jongdae whispered to you. "Don't worry."

"What do we do?" you asked.

Jongdae stretched his arms up high above his head, letting out a long breath of air. "Now, we wait."

Honestly speaking, you were getting fed up with waiting. But you had learned by now that there was no rushing when it came to witchcraft. However, it didn't mean that you weren't bored.

Minseok had pulled out his reading glasses and taken another look through your family grimoire, even as you worried about him reading next to the fire. "I'll be fine," he waved you off easily, all too immersed in the book.

Jongdae had been content with giving Dotori small treats every so often, but eventually began to show signs of boredom as well. Both of you started up an impromptu game of seeing who could build the tallest pebble tower, stifling hushed giggles while Minseok rolled his eyes from across the fire. The game was quickly abandoned once a pebble fell over, clattering against the rocky floor as you and Jongdae both looked up to see Baekhyun's reaction.

The witch didn't move, although you could have sworn that there were wrinkles between his eyebrows that weren't there before.

It was absolute agony to wait for news — good or bad, but you supposed it was even worse for Baekhyun. Every so often, he would mumble to himself, the rest of you leaning in to hear what he had to say. Most of it was indecipherable, and the few words that you did catch didn't seem to make any sense.

All of a sudden, Baekhyun let out a loud gasp, eyes flying wide open. Mongryong immediately jumped up and began nosing at his hands.

"What? What is it?" Minseok demanded.

Baekhyun's hands were trembling, fingers tapping against the surface of the glass ball in an irregular rhythm. "A mountain," he said, voice so quiet you had to scoot closer to hear.

"A mountain, and an entrance. There's books lining the inside, covering all of the walls — almost like a library. The Cave of the Ancients." He stared at the crystal without blinking, hypnotized by what he saw inside.

Minseok's eyebrows jumped up in disbelief. "It's real?"

"What is the Cave of the Ancients?" you asked hesitantly, not wanting to distract Baekhyun.

"A children's tale," Minseok replied in a hushed whisper as Baekhyun continued to stare into the crystal. "They say that this is where the oldest, most powerful secrets are kept. But no one's ever been, and there's no proof that it exists."

"I see an open field," Baekhyun continued, "Beyond the kingdom's reaches, by the sea. It's covered in mist, and..." Baekhyun groaned, eyes closing shut. His breathing started to become irregular, chest heaving with each breath of air. Even Mongryong was starting to get agitated, whining loudly.

"Baekhyun, drop it," Jongdae exclaimed as Minseok reached forward to pry the clairvoyant's hands off of the crystal. You jumped in to help, Minseok finally managing to wrench Baekhyun's hands off of the sphere as you pulled it away.

The scrying stone lost its haziness, returning to its original glassy appearance in your palms.

Baekhyun was still panting, sweat beading on his pallid face as he pressed a hand to his chest. "I heard my mother," he gasped out. "She was in the field."

Jongdae's face turned white, mouth falling open in realization. "The Valley of Lost Souls."

With a low moan, Baekhyun nodded, head in his hands as Minseok tried to get him to drink from a canteen of water.

Your blood ran cold with fear. "What does that mean?" you asked Jongdae. For Baekhyun to react like this, it must have been something terrifying.

"In the myth about the Cave of the Ancients, it's said that to reach it, one must first pass through the Valley of Lost Souls. It's not supposed to be real." Jongdae ran a hand over his face, fingers stopping at his chin as he watched Baekhyun worriedly.

"Neither is the Cave of the Ancients," Minseok added. He used some of the drinking water to dampen a rag, pressing the cold cloth to Baekhyun's forehead. "You're sure of what you saw?"

"It's like I was right there. She was calling out to me." Baekhyun's voice broke at the end.

"But it wasn't her," Minseok reasoned calmly. "In all of the stories, the people in the Valley are only illusions, remember? They'll take your soul if you wander too far." He shook his head. "I don't like this. There has to be another way to find a cure."

"We have to go. It's what the stone showed me, and there's been no other answer." A healthy pink flush was slowly returning to Baekhyun's skin, chasing away the eerie, chalky pallor that had been there only minutes ago. "We made a pact to save not only the prince, but the rest of the witches that still remain. We're doing this so that we don't have to hide in fear anymore, Min. It's a risk that we have to take."

Minseok sighed. "I'm worried, especially after what happened now. And besides, it's not just the three of us anymore." He turned to you, Baekhyun following his gaze.

"I'm prepared for anything," you stated firmly. "But is it actually possible for us to find this place? You said it yourselves — this is a thing of myths and rumors."

"It was by the sea," said Baekhyun.

Mirumi was the only kingdom bordering the sea, but it would also mean at least a week's journey — and going outside of Elyxere. You hadn't been outside of the kingdom since you were a small child, and that had been with your parents. But you would travel to the ends of the Earth for your cousin. This was the closest you had gotten to finding an answer, and you wouldn't lose this chance.

Chin set in determination, you nodded. "I agree with Baekhyun, I think we should go. We all knew that this could be dangerous, but that shouldn't stop us. This is our only strong lead right now."

Baekhyun smiled in relief, satisfied with your decision. "Jongdae?"

The youngest witch sighed, glancing between his brother's face and Baekhyun's before nodding. "Sorry, Min. They've got a point."

Minseok's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Alright. But," his voice hardened. "Staying safe is the most important thing. I'm not losing the rest of my coven."

"Hey." Jongdae moved closer to his brother, resting an arm over his shoulders. "It's all going to be okay. We've got each other."

Tanie meowed in agreement from her patch of grass, far away from your circle around the fire. The rest of you had practically forgotten about her during the events of the ritual.

"Thanks, you silly cat," Minseok replied with a wry laugh. "You won't even come walk on the rocks to comfort me?"

The white cat laid her head back down, tail lazily swishing back and forth behind her, much to everyone's amusement.

"We're going to need a wagon," Baekhyun said aloud. "It'll be impossible to ride on horseback with all of these familiars." He reached up to pet Mongryong, visibly relaxing as the corgi snuggled closer to him.

"Then that'll be the first thing we do in the morning. But for now," Jongdae snuck a peek at you. "I think the princess might need a nap."

You blushed bright pink. Was it that obvious that you were barely awake right now?

The witches laughed at your surprise. "Don't worry, little witch," Jongdae told you. "The first full moon ritual is always the hardest. I'm surprised you managed to stay awake this long."

"I feel like I'm drop off to sleep any second now," you whined.

"Alright, let's head back. We'll set off around midday, once everyone's gotten some rest," Minseok announced.

As the fire was put out and all traces of the ritual cleared away, you still felt the lingering sensation of sorcery begin to fade away. Weariness began to set in — both from the long hours spent awake, and the thought of what lay ahead.

It was going to be a long, long journey, but it was one that you had to take.

Tag list: @shesdreaminginoverdose and @bbyunz A/N: it’s been a month since I updated, but i’m so relieved to finally finish this chapter. i’ve been spending time going over my fic outline trying to figure out if I still need certain parts that I originally planned, and adding in new things that I didn’t have before. i want to say that this is the halfway point in the entire fic? it might be about 6 chapters and an epilogue (but like most of my writing plans, all things are subject to change haha)

also, even though i’m not writing whole fics for jongdae anymore, i love getting to write for him as a side character in this fic 🤣 cbx as witches might be my favorite characters that i’ve written (aside from spiderman jongdae and 1920s detectives cbx)

#exo #baekhyun #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun fanfic #exo scenario #exo fanfic #writings

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calumcest · 4 years

Text

i want to teach you a lesson (in the worst kind of way)

me writing 5.6k in 4 hours and pretending my essays/presentation/exams/dissertation don’t exist? it’s more likely than you think

thank u jex for listening to me scream abt this for the past 4 hours and for always being the sweetest and most encouraging person in the world you are truly such a positive influence in my life

also this is based off a prompt i got i think in 2014 never say i don’t provide! i would link the post but honestly it’s just got my 16 year old self’s embarrassing screams on it so frankly i would rather not so instead i will provide you with a screenshot of the ask under the cut

[ao3]

“Who’s that, sir?” Lily asks, jabbing at the window.

“The new PE teacher,” Michael says.

“He’s cute,” Sarah says, and a couple of the girls nod vigorously.

“He’s also twice your age,” Michael says. “Go on, off to your practice rooms.” The girls groan, but one by one pull themselves away from the window and start to wander off. Michael stays by the window, one eye on the girls to make sure they actually go where they’re supposed to and one eye on the new PE teacher, who’s dividing the class up into groups and handing out footballs. He is kind of hot, Michael supposes, if you’re into muscular guys who are clearly good at sports. Which Michael most definitely is.

Michael Clifford loves his job.

Sure, the staff room politics can get a bit exhausting (although Michael would be lying if he didn’t admit to loving all the drama he wasn’t personally involved in), and the kids can drive him up the fucking wall, but at the end of the day, there’s nothing he’d rather be doing than teaching.

Except today. Today, when a good portion of 10C has somehow exploded into an argument over whether or not Julia snatched a guitar when Sam was about to take it, he thinks he’d rather be a human guinea pig for infectious diseases, or something. It probably pays better, anyway.

“Sam,” he says sternly, and he turns to look at Michael, anger written all over his face. “There are plenty of guitars in the cupboard. Let Julia have that one.”

“But sir, that’s the only one which-”

“I don’t care,” Michael says, holding up a hand, because he’s perfectly aware that it’s the only guitar which stays in tune longer than thirty seconds. He’s been begging for a budget increase since the day he joined the school. “It’s one lesson, it’s not an exam, you can deal with it for forty-five minutes.”

“But Mr Clifford-” Lucy pipes up, ready to defend Sam.

“No, Lucy,” he says firmly. “I want all of you in the practice rooms, now.” Sam glares at him furiously and stomps off without an instrument in his hands, Lucy and Pip running behind him to one of the practice rooms outside the main classroom. Michael decides he’s got enough on his plate without inserting himself into hormonally-charged teenage drama, so he lets them go, rounding on Noel and Olivia, who are still arguing with Julia, Brandon hovering awkwardly nearby.

“I don’t want to hear anything else about this,” Michael cuts in, and Noel and Olivia round on Michael instead.

“Sir, she stole it from-”

“He was about to pick it u-”

“I don’t want to spend my lunchtime in detention, and unless you two do I suggest you get your instruments and go to your practice rooms,” Michael says curtly, trying to refrain from pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He’s getting a stress-induced headache already, and it’s the first lesson of the day.

“Fine,” Olivia spits, full of the kind of melodrama only a fifteen-year-old can summon, and Michael tries not to roll his eyes as they stalk off to one of the practice rooms at the back of the classroom without so much as another glance in his direction. He’s pretty sure he hears one of them mutter fuck you under their breath as they walk away, and he feels momentarily bad before he remembers they’ll have forgotten about it by their next lesson.

“Don’t do it again,” is all he says tiredly to Julia, who nods meekly, and scampers off to join her group in one of the other practice rooms at the back of the classroom. That being sorted, Michael turns back to the rest of the class, to find about eight of the girls gathered at the window, chattering excitedly.

“That doesn’t look like composing a short piece on three instruments to me,” he says, wandering over, and a bunch of the girls look back at him with a look of excitement on their faces.

“Who’s that, sir?” Lily asks, jabbing at the window and leaving a mark. Michael peers over their heads to see a distant figure standing on the field with a class that looks like it might be 7A. All he can make out is that it’s a guy, with what looks like a mess of dark brown hair and a couple of tattoos on his (very muscular, Michael notes with approval) arms that he’s waving around, clearly explaining something.

Michael vaguely remembers Paula, the headmistress, saying something about a new PE teacher starting this week, but he’d been too busy whisper-explaining to Luke why Magic: The Gathering was a great game and he should definitely play it with Michael to remember what she’d said the guy was called.

“The new PE teacher,” he says, hoping they won’t ask what he’s called.

“He’s cute,” Sarah says, and a couple of the girls nod vigorously.

Huh, he thinks, pushing himself away from the window and heading to the first practice room to make sure Noel, Olivia and Brandon have calmed down a bit. Sarah’s kind of right.

-------

Michael has a free period fourth period, and even if he usually wouldn’t be seen dead on the field, it’s a beautiful day, and it is on the route to the staff room. Well, it’s on a route to the staff room, at least, and if that route happens to be five minutes longer than simply walking through the building and over the quad, then Michael doesn’t need to know about it. He could do with the exercise, he tells himself. It’s nothing to do with the new PE teacher.

When Michael gets down to the field, the PE teacher’s gathering up the footballs from the previous lesson and stuffing them in the big netted bag that’s been threatening to break for about five years. He turns around after picking up the last one and spots Michael (who is definitely not staring) cutting across the top part of the field. He raises a hand, and Michael’s not really sure if he’s waving or telling him to get the fuck off the field, but then he’s gathering the bag in one hand and jogging over, and Michael’s absolutely not watching the lines of his muscles as he makes his way over.

“Hi!” the guy says, grinning widely, and fucking hell, he’s even hotter up close. He’s got dark brown eyes, crinkled at the corners with the brilliant smile currently gracing his full lips, and his dark hair is curled, falling into his face slightly. “I’m Calum. Calum Hood. I’m new.”

“I’m Michael Clifford,” Michael says. “I’m not.” He curses inwardly as soon as the words have left his lips - he should be legally restricted from talking to hot guys, honestly - but Calum laughs, laughs, and it’s not fake, if the twinkle in his eyes is anything to go by.

“I gathered,” he says. “So, what do you teach?”

“Music,” Michael says. “You’re PE?” Calum nods.

“Music’s my second, though,” he says.

“Oh?” Michael wants to die. Of course hot PE guy can teach Music, of all things. He was literally crafted by God to upset Michael.

“Yeah,” Calum says, with a smile. “I mean, I’m sure I’m nowhere near as good as you, but I play guitar, and a little piano. Bass is my real love, though.”

“Bass?” Michael says, trying his best not to imagine Calum’s long fingers flying across a fretboard.

“Yeah,” Calum says. “I played in a band, for a bit, but, y’know.” He gestures at himself. “Clearly didn’t work out.”

“That’s pretty fucking cool, though,” Michael says, genuinely impressed. “And hey, bassist to secondary school PE teacher is an upgrade.” Calum laughs.

“Fuck you, man,” he says, but he’s grinning, and Michael feels a warmth spreading from his toes to his cheeks. “Hey, are you heading to the staff room?” Michael nods. “Mind if I tag along? I’m still finding my way around.”

“Sure,” Michael says, shrugging and hoping it conceals the fact that he kind of wants to turn back to the safety of his music room and bang his head on the wall until he forgets someone as perfect as Calum Hood exists on the same planet as him.

“Sweet,” Calum says, beaming at him as he holds up the bag of footballs. “Let me just lock these in the shed and I’ll be right with you.”

Yeah, sweet, Michael thinks, as Calum turns on his heel and jogs away from Michael over to the tiny shed in the corner of the field which houses all the outdoor equipment. Not like Michael’s already head over heels in love, or anything.

Sweet.

-------

Calum’s officially introduced in the staff room at lunchtime on his first day, but Michael has lunch duty on a Monday so he misses it. Luke and Ashton tell him Calum’s a big hit in the staff room, “really charming, and have you seen his arms?”, which just puts Michael in a bad mood, because he now has competition.

It’s three days before Michael bumps into Calum again, in his free second period, which he’s spending catching up on all the marking that was due, like, two weeks ago and is still unfinished.

“Hey, Michael!” Calum says cheerfully, sitting down opposite Michael at the desk that he’s entirely covered with a careful class-organised system of marking. “Oh, shit, are you busy?”

“No,” Michael says immediately, because what’s his job compared to conversation with the hottest guy in Australia? “What’s up?” Calum shrugs.

“Just wanted a chat,” he says. “Haven’t seen you in a few days. You been hiding from me?” His eyes are twinkling as he says it, and it makes Michael’s stomach flip, because it’s pretty friendly for a guy he’s met once. If Michael were anyone else, he would say Calum might almost be flirting. Maybe Calum’s just like that, though. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything.

“Been catching up on marking,” Michael says, indicating all the papers on the desk. “I’m literally going to stop setting homework, I swear to God.”

“Can’t say I relate,” Calum says, with a grin. “Perks of being a PE teacher.”

“Yeah, but you have to deal with, like, concussions, and shit,” Michael says, capping his pen.

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and all that,” Calum says breezily, and Michael snorts.

“Typical PE teacher,” he says. “I could have had my leg cut off and my PE teacher would have made me keep running.” Calum smirks.

“Well, you have another leg, don’t you?” he says, and laughs when Michael scowls. “I’m kidding. I’d let you do push ups instead.” Michael rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning.

“How generous,” he says. Calum grins back at him, and Michael’s heart does a fucking backwards somersault, or something ridiculous.

“That’s what you get for saying PE teacher is an upgrade from bassist,” he says.

“Hey, that’s just the natural order of things,” Michael says. “It’s not my fault bass is at the bottom of the musical food chain.”

“What’s music without the rhythm section?” Calum says, stretching, and Michael tries his best not to stare at the sliver of skin that’s exposed under his shirt.

“Acoustic?” Michael offers, and Calum huffs out a laugh, bringing his arms (and shirt, Michael thinks wistfully) back down.

“Fuck,” he says agreeably. “Guess my band could have carried on without me.”

“What kind of music did you play?” Michael asks. Calum shrugs.

“A bit of everything,” he says. “We started on All Time Low, Fall Out Boy, that kind of a thing, got more Radiohead and Tame Impala vibes as we went on.” Jesus Christ. Michael has literally died and gone to heaven, because there is absolutely no way a man this perfect exists anywhere other than in Michael’s imagination.

“Mate, I fucking love All Time Low,” Michael says, and a smile unfurls on Calum’s lips.

“Have you heard their new album?”

“Yeah,” Michael says. “Fuck, Monsters? What a fucking tune.”

“Right?” Calum says enthusiastically. “And Basement Noise?”

“Fucking sick,” Michael agrees.

“You’ve got good taste,” Calum says approvingly. Michael opens his mouth to say something - you’re just saying that to get in my pants is on the tip of his tongue - but he’s interrupted (or possibly saved from eternal embarrassment) by Ashton sitting down heavily next to him.

“Hey, Michael,” he says, throwing a dimpled smile in his direction. “Hey, Calum.”

“Hey, Ashton,” Calum says. “How’s the Year 10 clay project coming along?”

“Oh, you know,” Ashton says, leaning back in his seat and pushing his curls out of his face. “Two busts have been decapitated so far, so we’re doing pretty well, all things considered.”

“Nice,” Michael says approvingly.

“I know you’re talking about the decapitations, Mike, you don’t fool me,” Ashton says knowingly. Michael scowls.

“Was it Sam?” he asks, needing to know who to high-five in his next lesson.

“No, Noel,” Ashton says.

“10C? Short kid, really fucking fast?” Calum asks. Michael shrugs. How is Michael supposed to know how fast he is? It’s not like Noel’s Naruto running through the music room.

“Yeah,” Ashton says, because apparently Noel’s Naruto running through the art room.

“He’s really fucking good with a ball,” Calum says, and Michael bites back an awful innuendo with a lot of difficulty. Not in front of Ashton, he tells himself.

“He’s lacking a passion,” Ashton says. “He’s good at art, but he messes around too much.”

“Same with Music,” Michael says. “He’s got a temper on him, too.”

“Well, maybe I can get him to channel it into football,” Calum says seriously. “Kids need an outlet, and something they feel like they’re good at. He needs something to be proud of.”

Fuck, Michael thinks, as Ashton enthusiastically responds in kind, staring at Calum as he nods along to whatever Ashton’s saying with a thoughtful frown. He’s definitely in love.

-------

Calum and Michael fall into a bit of a routine.

They don’t share a lot of free periods together, only the fourth on Monday and second on Thursday, but Michael will wait at the corner of the field for Calum to finish clearing up after his last lesson and they’ll walk to the staff room together, sitting and chatting shit for an hour about nothing in particular.

Michael learns that Calum’s got a sister, Mali, who’s in the music industry and whom he’s incredibly proud of, and that he’s half-Kiwi, half-Scottish, and grew up in western Sydney, not too far from Michael. He learns that Calum loves dogs more than he loves either bass or football, loves his dog (Duke) more than he loves anything else on the planet, likes playing Fifa and eating ice cream, and that his biggest fear is not having an impact on the world. He learns that Calum genuinely loves teaching, that Noel’s finding his feet with football and he’s really enjoying it, and that Calum almost went professional with football.

(“Is there anything you aren’t fucking talented at?” Michael says grumpily, when Calum tells him that. Calum laughs.

“Asking cute boys out,” he says, throwing Michael a grin, and Michael’s stomach flips.)

And so he also learns that Calum’s gay, and that he’s been single his whole life.

(“Are you serious? Michael says incredulously. Calum shrugs.

“I’m not a blushing virgin, Michael,” he says, seeing the look on Michael’s face, and Michael scowls.

“I didn’t say you were,” Michael says sullenly, but he’s secretly more than a little jealous of these nameless, faceless boys that have had the honour of fucking Calum Hood.)

Of course, Michael’s not the only one in the school to notice Calum.

A majority of the girls, and a good number of the boys, sing Calum’s praises to Michael every opportunity they get. He hears them talking in the corridors when Calum breezes past, smiling at them but eyes lighting up when he brushes past Michael (which Michael tries desperately not to think about when he’s staring out of the window daydreaming in the middle of a lesson). The staff are no better, either - Brenda and Caroline have been gossiping about Calum’s muscles so loudly that Michael only half-jokingly threatened to file a sexual harassment suit against them on his behalf.

One thing that having an incredibly hot PE teacher has done wonders for, though, is school morale.

It’s the only reason Michael’s standing at the corner of a wet field on a freezing May afternoon, wrapped in a thick coat and scarf and somehow still shivering, huddled between Luke and Ashton, whom he’d bribed-slash-threatened to join him because he didn’t want to be too obvious about it.

(“Mike, I don’t think you could be less obvious about being in love with Calum if you tried,” Luke had said, rolling his eyes, but then Michael had pulled out his trump card - he’d give Luke his coveted spot in the corner of the staff room - and Luke had agreed to go.)

“I fucking hate you,” Luke mumbles into the scarf currently covering a good half of his face. “I’m so fucking cold. This is not worth it to get you laid.”

“Fuck you,” Michael says automatically, eyes on Calum. He’s shouting encouragement and tactics at the Year 12 football team - not that Michael can hear it above the cheers and boos from the rest of the school and their opposition - but he looks so fucking good, brow creased as he focuses on the game.

“Are there usually this many people at football games?” Ashton asks, looking around in wonder. “There aren’t, are there?”

“How d’you expect us to know?” Luke asks, exasperated. “We’re not usually at football games either.”

“We’re being good friends,” Ashton tells Luke, a little sternly, and Luke huffs, but doesn’t say anything else.

Their team scores, and the crowd erupts into cheers, because it’s now only two minutes until the end of the game and they’re two-one up, so it’s unlikely the result will change. Calum still looks determined, though, muttering something to Ben, the Year 12 captain, who nods and jogs back across the bitch to prepare for the kick-off.

“I hate this,” Luke whines after a minute, because that’s apparently as long as he can keep quiet without reminding everyone how miserable he is. “This is why I’m a Maths teacher.”

“Shut up,” Michael says, and then the final whistle blows and Calum’s face is finally relaxing, tension dissipating from his posture as he cheers with the rest of the crowd.

“Calum looks really good tonight,” Ashton says, sending a glance in Michael’s direction.

“Alright, fuck me, I guess,” Luke grumbles. Ashton rolls his eyes.

“You’re such a fucking bitch sometimes,” he says, but he looks around furtively before snaking his arm around Luke’s waist and giving it a quick squeeze.

“Everyone knows you’re fucking,” Michael comments, still staring at Calum. “You don’t have to be sly about it.”

“No they don’t,” Luke says, leaning into Ashton’s touch.

“Yes, they do,” Michael says, and then he forgets what he was going to say next because Calum makes eye contact with him from across the pitch and gives him a huge grin, and Michael’s stomach bottoms out. “Fuck, he’s grinning at me.”

“Well, grin back, idiot,” Ashton says, so Michael does. Calum holds his gaze for a moment, and then turns back to his team, leaving Michael feeling a little unsteady.

“I’m in love,” he declares, for the nintieth time that week.

“We know,” Luke says grumpily.

-------

Michael’s halfway through marking 8A’s elements of music test when there’s a knock at the door. He looks up, expecting to see Luke or Ashton, not Calum. He looks out of place in his football kit in the music room, and Michael’s brain short-circuits as it tries to reconcile a hot man in Michael’s music room.

“Hey,” he says, sticking his head around the door. “Am I disturbing you?”

“No,” Michael says, because Calum could walk in on him taking a shit and wouldn’t be disturbing him. “What’s up?” Calum steps into the room, clicking the door shut behind him, and throws himself down on a seat opposite Michael’s desk.

“So,” he says. “You know All Time Low are here next weekend?” Michael nods. He’s planning on going with Luke and Ashton. “I might have got two tickets to Sunday night.”

“That’s sick,” Michael enthuses. “Who are you going with?” Calum throws Michael an odd look, somewhere between exasperation and amusement.

“Well, I was hoping you’d want to come?” he says. Michael blinks.

“Me?” he says.

“Yeah,” Calum says, and there’s definitely a hint of amusement in his tone now.

“I, uh.” Michael’s not really sure how to speak without saying yes, please, and please let me suck your dick while I’m at it. He swallows, hoping it’ll make the words disappear from the tip of his tongue. “I’d fucking love to.” Calum grins, looking relieved, and Michael realises that he must have been nervous . Something about that sends a thrill coursing through his veins - he’d made Calum nervous, somehow.

“Sweet,” he says happily. “Text me your address? I’ll pick you up at five.” Michael just nods, not really trusting himself to speak, and Calum pulls himself up out of the chair, throwing him one last smile before he leaves the room.

Fuck, Michael thinks, as the door swings shut behind Calum, pulling his phone out to Google how to fall out of love with a colleague.

(It doesn’t help him at all.)

-------

Next Sunday comes around faster than Michael had expected, given how much he’s been thinking about it.

Luke and Ashton had been a little incensed when he’d told them he was no longer going with them but with Calum.

(“What?” Luke had said crossly. “Michael, you already bought your ticket.”

“Yeah, but it’s a choice between third-wheeling you or one-on-one time with the love of my life,” Michael says dramatically. “What do you expect me to choose?”)

At five to five, Michael’s sat in his living room, leg jiggling nervously as he checks his phone every two milliseconds just in case he’s somehow missed a notification from Calum in the time it’s taken him to blink.

Calum, though, doesn’t even text to say he’s arrived, just rings the doorbell at five on the dot, scaring Michael shitless.

“Hi,” Calum says, smiling, when Michael opens the door. He’s wearing a Nine Inch Nails shirt and straight-leg blue jeans, which should look incredibly nineties and not good at all, but somehow makes Michael want to drop to his knees right there and then. Although, he supposes, that’s what Michael wants to do regardless of what Calum is wearing, so it’s probably nothing to do with that. “You look gorgeous.” Michael has to bite his cheek to check whether he’s still alive and not, like, ascended to heaven.

“Thanks,” Michael mumbles when his mouth floods with pain and it becomes clear that yes, he is actually still alive, feeling heat rise to his cheeks from the sheer intimacy of this moment with a colleague-slash-friend-slash-soulmate-but-he-doesn’t-know-it. He’s so used to seeing Calum in the context of school that it feels strange to see him in normal clothes, standing on Michael’s doorstep.

“Are you ready, or, like, d’you want me to stand here all evening?” Calum says after a moment, and Michael steps out of the house with a scowl.

“Fuck you,” he says, trailing behind Calum as they walk to his car.

“Maybe if you’re lucky,” Calum says, and Michael chokes on his next breath. Calum, however, doesn’t seem to notice, as he’s getting into the car and starting the engine. Michael takes the opportunity to splutter for a second, re-learning how to breathe for the first time in twenty-five years, and takes a deep breath before getting in the passenger side of the car.

“What d’you reckon’s going to be on the set list?” Calum asks, reversing out of Michael’s driveway and setting off down the street. Michael hums in consideration.

“Aside from the obvious?” he says.

“No, Michael, tell me that Dear Maria’s going to be on the set list,” Calum says sarcastically. Michael scowls.

“I’d punch you if you weren’t driving,” he tells Calum, and Michael sees him grin in the dim light.

“I’ve found my shield,” Calum says, running a stop sign. Michael squawks as they swerve into the road, grabbing onto the handle on the door. Calum rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, I’ve seen how you drive.”

“Fuck off,” Michael says, scowling, but he can’t deny it. Speed is more important than safety, is his motto - mainly because he always sets off at least ten minutes late.

“So?” Calum prompts. “Set list?”

“I hope Monsters,” Michael says. “But honestly? I’d love some of the older stuff on there too.”

“Yeah, I miss Stella being on the set list,” Calum says wistfully.

“You saw them when Stella was on the set list?”

“Yeah,” Calum says, a tad smug, and okay, fuck him.

“Fuck,” Michael says, and he can’t even disguise the envy in his voice. Calum just laughs, throwing Michael a glance, and his eyes are glittering in the sunset, making Michael’s heart hurt a little bit. “You don’t deserve that.”

“Hey,” Calum says, aiming for affronted, but he’s still grinning. “Don’t antagonise the driver.”

“I can antagonise you all I want,” Michael says. “You’re not going to kill us on the way to an All Time Low gig.”

“Might kill us on the way back, though,” Calum points out.

“Yeah, well, I can probably die happy, then,” Michael says, with a shrug.

“True,” Calum agrees. “Good music, pretty boy in the passenger seat, what more could you want?”

“Exactly,” Michael says emphatically, and it takes him until Calum’s started talking about the merits of Nothing Personal as compared to Don’t Panic to realise what Calum had just said.

Michael’s in the passenger seat.

-------

The show, as expected, is amazing.

Michael’s seen All Time Low, like, five times now, and they never fail to disappoint. He voices as such to Calum on the way home, running on a high of adrenaline and having seen Calum jumping in the pit, screaming the lyrics to every single song, which had only made Michael’s whole being-in-love-with-the-hot-PE-teacher situation a little more difficult to handle.

“Right?” Calum enthuses, speeding along the almost-empty highway. “I’ve heard it so many times, but Therapy live just hits different.”

“God, I know,” Michael groans, tipping his head back and closing his eyes, letting the memory flash in front of his eyes. “I actually heard the full band version live, once.”

“Yeah?” Calum asks, a tinge of envy in his voice. Michael savours the moment.

“Yeah,” he says, a touch smugly. “It was fucking sick.”

“I can imagine,” Calum says. “I told Alex that they should play it like that tonight, but-”

“Hang on,” Michael says, cutting Calum off, because he cannot be understanding this correctly. “Alex who?” Calum suddenly looks a little guilty.

“Uh,” he says.

“Alex who, Calum?”

“Gaskarth?” Calum offers after a moment, and Michael gapes at him.

“You know Alex Gaskarth?”

“Well, y’know, I used to be in a band, and we opened for All Time Low, and-”

“You opened for All Time Low?” Michael asks. Calum chews on his bottom lip.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m- look, I’m sorry for not telling you, okay? I got the tickets through Alex, but I thought if I told you you might just want to go for them, like, you wouldn’t get it, and-”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you know All Time Low,” Michael huffs, sinking down in his seat. Calum throws him a worried look, so Michael adds: “I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” which makes Calum smile as he turns into Michael’s road.

“Fuck you,” he says, but the concern is fading from his face as he parks on the road by Michael’s house this time. They both get out of the car, and then Michael hovers awkwardly by the little path that leads to his house.

“You’re a traitor,” he says, when Calum rounds the corner of his car and comes to stand opposite Michael. He’s lit up in the orange light of the streetlights, dark brown hair surrounded by a halo of amber, and Michael doesn’t think he’s seen a prettier sight in his life.

“I had to make sure you were coming for me,” Calum protests, a smile playing at his lips. Michael blinks at him.

“What do you mean?” he says, nonplussed.

“Well, y’know,” Calum says, shrugging.

“I don’t know,” Michael says. Calum looks at him oddly.

“Wait,” he says. “You...you know this was a date, right?” Michael gapes at him.

“Are you- wait, what?” Calum’s face falls, and he takes a step back, and no, no, no, that’s not what Michael wants. “Wait, no, I-”

“Fuck,” Calum says, laughing uncomfortably as he cards a hand through his hair. “I probably should have made it clearer, huh? I did say I was bad at asking out cute boys.”

“Me?” Michael’s voice is a good three octaves higher than usual. “You think I’m cute?” Calum smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Michael, I’ve been flirting with you since, like, the minute I saw you,” he says.

“You have?”

“Jesus Christ,” Calum mutters, and then seems to pull himself together. “Look, I’m sorry if I, like, overstepped, made things uncomfortable, whatever. I’m happy to keep it professional, and-” he cuts himself off when Michael laughs. “What?” he says, and it comes out snappy.

“Are you serious?” Michael says, and he’s grinning now, so much he thinks he probably looks a little creepy.

“You’re kind of being a dickhead, now, you know that?” Calum says, a little sharply.

“No, Calum, I- fucking hell,” Michael says, and a bubble of manic laughter escapes from him. “I’ve been kind of in love with you since, like, before we met.” Calum looks at him for a moment, expression unreadable

“Before we met?” Calum asks carefully.

“Yeah,” Michael says, nodding. “10C pointed you out, in first period, and I kind of stared at you for half the lesson.” Calum says nothing for a moment, just keeps looking at Michael, and it’s starting to get a little unnerving, when-

“Oh,” Calum says, and a small smile is creeping onto his face. “You- wait, so, like, I didn’t misread it? You do like me?”

“I mean, I did just say I was kind of in love with you, but sure, I like you," Michael says, and Calum grins, lit up by the streetlights and his happiness, and Michael thinks he’s found space in his heart that he didn’t even know he had since meeting Calum.

“So,” Calum says. “This was a date?”

“This was definitely a date,” Michael agrees, feeling his stomach flip pleasantly at the words.

“Would it be cliché to kiss you goodnight?” Calum asks, and Michael grins.

“Definitely,” he says, “but I’ll kill you if you don’t.” Calum grins back, and takes two steps forward to close the space between them, bringing a hand to Michael’s jaw and pressing his lips to Michael’s gently. It’s chaste, sweet, slow, languid, and Calum kisses like Michael’s the only thing that matters in the world. He smells like mint and pine and vanilla, pressed close to Michael’s chest, slipping an arm around Michael’s waist, and Michael groans into the kiss as he thinks about Calum’s long fingers splayed across the small of his back.

“Too much?” Calum asks, breaking away, and Michael shakes his head, pressing his forehead against Calum’s shoulder.

“Not enough,” he says, because he doesn’t think he’s ever going to get enough of Calum Hood. Calum pulls him in for a proper hug, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, and Michael’s glad Calum’s got strong arms because he feels like his knees are about to give in.

“Do you want to come in?” he mumbles against Calum’s shoulder.

“Is that a proposition?” Calum says, smile evident in his voice.

“Do you want it to be?”

“Maybe.” Michael swallows. Jesus Christ.

“Then it is.” Calum pulls back and looks at Michael, suddenly serious.

“Hey,” he says. “This isn’t- this isn’t just sex for me. I really like you, Michael. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I want something more with you.” Michael grins.

“Have I got to repeat the whole ‘kind of in love with you’ thing again?” he says, and Calum grins back.

“Alright,” he says, and Michael hears his car squeaking to indicate it’s locked. “You’re making the excuses when we turn up to school tomorrow, though.”

-------

A few students give them strange looks when they get out of Michael’s car in the morning.

“Is this seriously the sportiest thing you own?” Calum grumbles for the fiftieth time, picking at the green hoodie and black jogging bottoms that Michael had chucked at him that morning.

“Quit complaining,” Michael says, locking the car behind them and starting across the car park to the school. “Green’s your colour.”

“Oh, that’s why you picked it,” Calum says, jogging a little to catch up with Michael.

“Yeah,” Michael says with a grin, unashamed. Calum shakes his head, but he’s grinning too.

“I’d kiss you right now if I could,” he says, as they turn into the building.

“What’s stopping you?” Michael asks, as they make their way up the stairs to the staff room.

“Uh, code of conduct? The contract I signed when I joined the school?” Michael rolls his eyes as he pushes open the door to the staff room.

“Morning!” he chirps, heading straight for the desk Luke and Ashton are already sat at, Calum in his wake.

“Morning!” a few people in the room chorus over the general buzz of post-weekend chatter.

“Hey,” Luke says loudly, frowning. “Why’s Calum wearing your clothes?”

The room goes still, and Michael just grins.

#malum #lashton #5sos fic #5sos slash #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #bro the way i can just knock out 5.6k of fic in 4 hours but spend 3 hours reading a singular academic article #do i have a brain? debatable

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blu-joons · 5 years

Text

Dating Jimin ~ BTS Headcanon

Getting Together

He was full of confidence when it came to approaching you, he was so excited to talk to you

He’d been watching you all night, smirking to himself at how cute you were

Of course, you were instantly drawn in by his eyes when he introduced himself

He didn’t need any advice he knew exactly how he was going to approach you and make you agree to a date

His hands continuously ran through his hair, a nervous habit of his you soon picked up on

Big smiles, the more he smiled the more you began to like you

Taking control of your first date, he wanted to plan it all and whisk you off your feet

Your first date was an adorable picnic in the park, Jimin had made a massive hamper of food for you both

He sat as close to you as possible before making you feel uncomfortable

Really romantic, he fed you strawberries, and poured you champagne, you honestly felt like you were in a movie

Very excitable, he got really giddy whenever he was around you

Always checking his phone for texts or calls from you, annoying the others a little

He was big on eye contact, often finding himself lost in your eyes

He hated to talk about himself, he’d much rather talk about you and learn as much as he could about you

This guy loved to tell other people about you, from the second he saw he just had a really good feeling about the two of you

The two of you met up once a week for a couple of months, just enjoying each other’s company

On your fifth date Jimin decided to attempt a kiss as he drove you back to your house

Again, it was like being in a movie as your lips captured his

Just a few dates later he knew that he wasn’t willing to let you go, asking you to be his girlfriend in the middle of movie night at his

He’d got plenty of snacks, and lots of blankets making his place as cosy as possible for you both

You sat with his arm draped around your shoulders when he decided to make his move

Before he spoke, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head to capture your attention

“Y/N, look, I feel like things between us having been going so well, and I’m honestly ready to take it to the next stage, if you’d like to be my girlfriend?”

His eyes stared down at you, hopeful for your response

“I’d love that Jimin, or should I say, boyfriend.”

The two of you spent the rest of the night wrapped up under duvets watching movies

When the last one came to an end Jimin deemed it too dark for you to head home

You ended up staying at his place that night, your first night together

He continued to call you girlfriend throughout the night, never getting tired of it

Being In A Relationship

From the start Jimin was very affectionate, he’d always like to hold you

Lots of giggles, he would always be laughing and smiling, it was incredibly infectious

He couldn’t wait to rub it in the boys faces that he had a girlfriend and they didn’t

When he was away, he would always Skype you, he couldn’t bare to be away from you for very long

Singing you to sleep, his voice always settled you and calmed you down

Always playing with his hair, he loved when you ran your fingers through it, finding it really comforting

He was romantic, he loved to arrange cute dates for you both

You would always try and go to the studio to encourage him, bringing him things that would keep him going

Lots of song lyrics dedicated to you, he’d save them all up for a special occasion

He would always talk about you; it wasn’t unusual for one of the boys to have to tell him to shut up

His clothes were your clothes, you would always steal his clothes, especially his thick jumpers

You couldn’t help but join the boys in teasing him about his height

But you’d always remind him he was your number one when you got home later at night

He loved to film you doing random things, you were a star in your own right on V Live

Lots of gaming, the two of you were always on your phones competing against each other

Music was always playing in your house, the two of you bopping along

He loved to give you little massages, especially around your shoulders when you sat in between his legs

Both of you hated early mornings, much rather staying in bed together

A lot of activities were done together, cooking, travelling, going to the gym

You’d have to help him dye his hair, so if it went wrong, he could blame you and not himself

He would come home early some nights, just to surprise you and see you

You’d return the favour, flying out to surprise him on tour when he was missing you

Trying to teach you to dance like him, even though you weren’t the best dancer

You both loved socialising, you always had friends over at your place

Any occasion to celebrate Jimin would, especially on your birthday

He loved to buy you souvenirs from tour, magnets and pens, anything he knew you loved

Jimin knew everything there was to know about you, he was so attentive and interested

You were the best whenever he was sick, you worshipped him back to health

He was quite often needy for cuddles; he’d cry out for you whenever you left him

It was always him that drove, he liked to chauffeur his girl around

You moved into his place quite quickly because he could not get enough of you

He loved you most first thing in the morning, your hair messy, no makeup, completely natural

One of his favourite things was trying to do your hair for you, however you wanted it

You’d lost count of how many times you’d treated burns on his hands from your curlers

He would always be telling jokes, desperate to make you laugh and see your smile

Little getaways together, even just for the weekend he’d take you somewhere nice away from the hectic work at home

He was incredibly protective of you, he didn’t stand for any nonsense

He respected your privacy greatly, never forcing you to do something you didn’t want to

You always bought him jewellery, spotting him wearing it in an interview or on stage

The fans loved you because Jimin always talked about you and how amazing you were

Some nights the two of you would have incredibly meaningful conversations

There were times when he’d shut himself off, and others where he could not stop gushing about you

Everyday, without fail, he would tell you that you were beautiful at least once

As soon as you’d text him, he would reply straight away, he didn’t want to leave you waiting

He was really good at reading how you felt, if you’d had a long day, takeout would always be delivered

Always playing with his hands, they were just so petite and sweet to play with

You definitely had bigger hands than him, always teasing him about it

He had a way with words that just melted you, every word he said you believed

The tiniest of gestures from you always touched his heart because it was you

His lock screen would definitely be you, probably a photo of you both at an event

Affection/Skinship

He would always be wanting to hold your hand and cuddle you, he was very affectionate

Always trying to sneak in kisses, whether it be a peck on the cheek or your lips, he didn’t mind

Being in public didn’t faze him, he loved you, and he was going to show it

He definitely waited until he knew you were comfortable to take steps in your relationship

He always made you feel so loved when the two of you had sex

His eyes were incredible, so passionate, fixated on every part of your body

Slowly the two of you began to explore each other and understand the kinks each other had

He liked to dominate you, but if you wanted to be dominant, he wouldn’t say no

Sex was a quiet occasion, you didn’t speak much, the room was just filled with moans and grunts

He was incredibly horny, he’d take you wherever, he didn’t mind who knew, he made no secret of the fact he was besotted by you

He would always cuddle you after sex, that was the time for words

Without being able to touch you he would feel incredibly lonely

He didn’t mind giving or receiving, the two of you worked on impulse and whatever felt right at the time

His hand would constantly trail up your thigh, that was his sign that he was feeling frisky

He loved to carry you over his shoulders to prove how strong he was

You would always kiss his hands, they were so sweet

He liked to give you hickeys, where no one could see them, so you knew that you were his

Jimin’s definitely an ass guy, he loves to spank it and grope it

His favourite position is reverse cowgirl, he loves to see your bum moving

He paid attention to your whole body when you were intimate for sure

One of his favourite times was shower sex, normally when the two of you woke up, it was lazy, but incredibly passionate.

Arguments

Jimin hated arguments, he was usually quite diplomatic in situations

So, it took a lot for him to get angry enough to start an argument

Conflict hurt you both, in the heat of the moment you both said things that you’d instantly regret

He could never leave an argument, as soon as it was over, he’d be straight over to apologise, talking things through with it

You’d have to beg sometimes for him to give you space, but he wouldn’t, he wanted it solving right then

Usually, when one of you started crying was the moment you realised how silly it all was

They were so rare, once a month if you were lucky, the two of you were experts in talking

What hurt Jimin the most was that he still adored you, every word he spoke pained him

You’d make up with lots of cuddles, both apologising for the things you said and things you’ll do to make changes

You would normally get angrier, whilst Jimin would step in to calm you down

Honestly, you argued more with the boys then you did Jimin

He would always apologise for his insults, yet again reminding you how beautiful you were

Normally arguments were just built up stress which you both understood which such hectic schedules

They remained in the house, no one ever knew about the things you’d argue about

Arguments were the worst, Jimin hated ever seeing anyone angry or upset, especially you

You can guarantee he felt so guilty about it all, apologising profusely

It was hard on you too, you hated to see him so stressed

He was the member in the group who would come home and complain about an argument that happened at work and how they didn’t like it

Your Relationship With The Boys

It took you awhile to feel comfortable around them all, they were very loud and overpowering

With Jimin’s help you soon settled into the group, becoming a sister figure for them all

You bonded straight away with Suga, he was your zen zone when things got loud

Namjoon cared immensely for you, always there to reassure that eventually things did calm down

Yet, Hobi would be there to wind you back up again, dancing around you, making you laugh

Same with Jin, he would always get a smile out of you just by acting like an absolute idiot

Taehyung was always there for you, he was so close with Jimin, he couldn’t wait to get to know you too

Jungkook adored you, he loved to just sit and have conversations with you that could last for hours

All the boys were considerate of you, and gave you and Jimin your privacy

But they always knew when you two were up to something dirty, sniggering when you both walked back into the room

The Future

Of course, Jimin was desperate to marry you and turn old and grey with you

He proposed at the same park of your very first date a few years down the line, one of his famous picnics on hand

You didn’t expect it at all with him still being busy with his career

Marriage took a backseat while the boys continued to dominate, you both waited until the others started to settle down to tie the knot

Jimin was amazing with kids, and you couldn’t wait to start a family and see him blossom into the best dad ever

He wore his heart on his sleeve, as the two of you grew your family by two, a boy and a girl

Thank you was never enough for blessing him with the best life ever

---

Masterlist

#bts #bangtan sonyeodan #bts imagine #bts angst #bts fluff #bts headcanon #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts drabble #bts smut #bts boyfriend #jimin #park jimin #jimin imagine #jimin fluff #jimin angst

838 notes · View notes

lilith-lovett · 4 years

Text

Found Families - Home is Where the Hart is - Chapter Eighteen

Finally. This chapter was a mess at the beginning, I had a horrible case of writers block and spent most of my days playing Dragon Quest XI but now the spark is back and I have already started the next chapter which I am really looking forward to. Thank you all again for your continued support and I hope you enjoy this chapter xx

Masterlist

Summary: Shopping trip - Part 2 (they are still stressful)

Word Count: 9081 (I am sorry sorry this is so long)

Warnings: Past child abuse, past physical abuse, past physiological abuse , anxiety, implied controlling behaviour, self-deprecation, description of injuries, description of scars, panic attack, disordered eating, implied depression, discussion of weight, hospital mention, implied self-harm, neglect, negligent parents. (If I missed anything pleased let me know)

The morning passed by too quickly. Roman and Virgil left for the school bus at 7:27am exactly whilst Patton prepared breakfast for Logan and Declan. Though Logan found he didn’t have much of an appetite. Considering the events ahead he ate far less than he originally would have, to avoid erasing the content of his stomach due to the intense churning in his abdomen. Unfortunately, the almost still full plate didn’t escape Patton’s keen eye.

“Logan, you haven’t eaten very much. Are you feeling alright?” Patton asked his voice laced with concern as he pressed a gentle hand to Logan’s forehead as he fought not to flinch away from Patton’s touch. “You don’t have a fever,”.

“I am fine Patton, I just seem to have lost my appetite this morning,” Logan said with a shrug though it didn’t seem to ease Patton’s anxieties. “Please, do not worry,”.

“O-okay, do you still want to go out today?” He asked taking a seat adjacent to Logan’s. “We can do it another day, if you’d like?”.

Logan considered his options. He could refuse and simply prolong the inevitable, of Patton spending money on him. He didn’t want to disappoint Patton any more than he already had. Patton had evidently been looking forward to this activity and Logan was ruining it. Would Patton be mad at him for refusing? For being ungrateful for everything he had done for him?

“No, I want to!”Logan exclaimed. Too loud. Too quickly. He swiftly retracted, bringing his hands to his lips and averting his gaze to the floor. Patton studied him for a moment before reaching out a tentative hand to Logan’s which still covered his mouth. He allowed Patton to take them, fighting the urge to flinch away and continue to hide his burning face but instead he allowed Patton to cradle his quivering hands - that he desperately attempted to conceal but to no avail - in his much larger ones.

“Are you sure, I won’t be upset, all I want is you for to be comfortable,” Patton said rubbing reassuring circles into his palms.

“I want to go,” Logan repeated forcing himself to meet Patton’s kind gaze, hoping he would cease this topic of conversation and allow Logan to retreat to his bedroom in order to mentally prepare himself from the day’s events.

“Okay…Okay, we’ll go. But if you want to leave at any point, please tell me and we will leave right away,” Patton assured Logan, giving his hands a final squeeze before withdrawing and returning to the sink of dishes. Logan stared into his palms for a moment. A strange tingling sensation prickled through his hands and wrists from Patton’s gentle touch and an alarming warmth flowered within his chest as he froze. Appreciation and affection for Patton flooded his chest cavity. Logan had always described himself as a cold and callous individual, unphased by simple emotions and mushy…feelings but he hadn’t quite been himself as of late; becoming more susceptible to new and wildly changing emotions - he struggled to comprehend - ever since becoming acquainted with Patton and the indescribable warmth that Patton possessed had filled him ever since.

The remainder of the morning passed rather uneventfully. Logan escaped to his room to prepare for the dreaded outing, looking to the lifeless stuffed animal - sat at the head of his bed - for support before shaking away the childish notion of receiving any applicable advice from a toy. He had already dressed before heading to breakfast, in his typical outfit, much like the ones his mother always purchased for him. It was simple yet smart, concealing much of his skin and the injuries inflicted by their hands. Perhaps Logan could choose similar items of clothing? To avoid straying too far from his own rules. The idea calmed him somewhat, providing him with some sense of control and making the overwhelming task seem considerably less frightening.

Logan brought out the large pair of headphones Patton had gifted him on their second ever meeting from his rucksack, it seemed so long ago now. Certainly a lot had occurred between them since. He traced his fingers carefully across tape which secured the break, smoothing down the peeling edges and placed them around his neck. The familiar weight helped in calming his nerves. Logan lifted the galaxy printed fidget toy from his bedside table which Virgil had given him, pressing the buttons. One. Two. Three times before depositing it in the pocket of his trousers. With a final glance around his room which seemed much fuller and more…lived in since their shopping trip yesterday, though certainly not as decorated or personalised as Roman’s or Virgil or Declan’s but he felt an unusual sort of attachment to the simple items which now inhabited it. Particularly the little bear. He longed to bring it with him but he hastily dispelled the childish thought from his mind as he quickly turned and left. Taking a deep breath and then another before returning downstairs.

Patton was waiting from Logan at the bottom of the stairs. He was dressed in his normal outfit, grey cardigan peaking out from beneath his intensely bright yellow raincoat and holding a similar appearing garment in a much more muted blue colour.

“Hey Logan, I picked out one of Roman’s old jackets for you. He never really wore it, it wasn’t dramatic enough for him,” Patton said with a chuckle as he handed the jacket to Logan. It was a durable material which would successfully protect his clothing from the elements and in a simple and satisfying shade in which he would not draw much attention. He put it on and it was…far too big. Falling past his hips and the sleeves concealing much of his hands leaving only his finger tips visible. He had to zip it up to just below his chin to prevent it from slipping off of his shoulders but it was warm and had been gifted to him by Patton so he found that he did not mind the sizing issue.

“Aw, you look so cute kiddo, it is a little bit big but it will do until we can get you your own one,” Patton stated with a smile. “Well, are you ready to go?”.

Logan disregarded the compliment with a grunt. He wanted to protest. Logan didn’t know the exact cost of a coat but he was certain it was far greater than he deserved. Roman’s raincoat was a substantial upgrade from the paper-thin jacket given to him by the orphanage as previous to that he had never owned a jacket or coat as his parents viewed it as an unnecessary expense and preferred to watch him suffer whenever they allowed him outside, forcing him to bear the brunt of the bitter conditions. He did not need it but Logan was sure Patton would simply brush off his concerns with comforting words and Logan did not wish to anger Patton any more then he presumably already had due to his actions. So he kept quiet and nodded.

Patton decided last minute to drop Dee off at Dot and Larry’s house so that he could focus his attention on Logan, who had been extremely on edge all morning. Logan remained in the car as he was concious of Logan’s anxiety surrounding change and believed that consistently bombarding him with new faces would overwhelming him and Emile’s parents could at time be a little over the top, particularly with affection and having learned from past experiences with Virgil he made the decision to allow Logan to have some time to settle in before introducing him to his honorary grandparents at Roman’s upcoming birthday which Dot and Larry thankfully agreed with. Upon returning to the car, they set off again.

Logan remained silent for much of it but Patton did not fail to note the overwhelming tension he held within his body. In his poker straight posture, muscles drawn so tight, Patton feared he may injure himself. He also noticed Logan was wearing his noise-cancelling headphones around his neck, something he only did when he was anxious - Logan told him the weight on his neck acted as a suitable grounding method - and rested in his lap where his hands which were unconsciously fidgeting with Virgil’s old fidget cube. Fingers moving quickly over each of the four sides producing a continuous clicking sound. Another sign Logan was nervous. Perhaps this was a bad idea? Logan had expressed he didn’t want Patton buying him anything but he only owned at most three complete sets of clothes, none of which fit him correctly and all appeared to be well worn and tattered because of over use and age. Though maybe he should have waited until Logan was more comfortable? Patton was supposed to be returning to work soon so he could begin in his new position but with Logan’s arrival he had thankfully been given a few weeks for him to help Logan settle in but was he moving too quickly for Logan?

Patton switched on the radio, hoping some lively music would drown out his thoughts and lift his mood. He found himself humming along to the infectious tune, nodding his head and tapping to fingertips on the steering wheel to the beat which drew Logan’s attention.

“Like the song, kiddo?” Patton asked as Logan jumped at the sudden mention of his name. “Oh, I’m sorry Logan, I didn’t mean to scare you.”.

“It is alright, I was merely distracted. Yes, the melody is quite appealing,” Logan replied his fidgeting slowed and some of the tension relived itself from his shoulders.

“It is, isn’t it,” Patton agreed before pausing for a moment. He didn’t know what would happen when they arrived at the store. How Logan would react? Patton knew Logan had a dislike of people spending money on him, presumably stemming from his parents treatment of him. He had been stressed out for the entirety of their outing yesterday, Patton had done what he could by encouraging him to pick out items he wanted instead of allowing Roman or Virgil to decide for him, reiterating the fact that money was not an issue and that he wanted to buy him nice things but he worried it hadn’t made much of a difference in Logan’s outlook. “Hey…So, is there anything specific you want to get?”.

“Some shirts and trousers would be adequate, thank you,” Logan eventually said in a whisper after an elongated silence, in which Patton feared he wouldn’t answer at all but he was pleasantly surprised by his answer.

“Of course we can and if you see anything else you like just tell me and I’ll get it for you,” Patton explained beaming at Logan who did not meet his gaze, instead remained routed in his curled up position, eyes fixated on his hands fisted in his lap. His confession clearly took a lot of courage which only made Patton happier. “I’m so proud of you Logan,”.

Logan didn’t respond but Patton felt content nonetheless. They had a tiny breakthrough. Though it may have appeared insignificant and though Logan immediately retreated back into his shell afterwards, it proved Logan still trusted him and that small bond of trust pleased Patton more than anything. They continued the rest of their journey in a comfortable silence with only the pretty sounds of the radio playing until they reached their destination.

The mall was quieter than it had been the previous day which Patton was thankful for considering Logan aversion to crowded places and noise. Though there were still a few individuals who wandered from store to store, carrying bags filled with items. Logan remained close to his side, the fidgeting had returned so Patton quickly ushered him into the first clothing store they came across which was much quieter than the busy shopping centre. With only a couple of people mulling around the store and an instrumental piece playing from the speakers overhead. They immediately walked towards the young boys section, located between the men’s and the shoe section of the store.

Patton looked towards Logan in an attempt to gauge his initial reaction of the wealth of clothing items which surrounded him, searching for any indication of any pieces he was immediately attracted to but his expression remained blank as he briefly glanced around him, taking in his surroundings before looking to Patton for instruction. Despite how independent Logan appeared, he was so accustomed to blindly following orders, obeying their rules to a fault no matter the consequences to his own physical or mental well-being. Never just doing something for his own benefit or enjoyment. It pained Patton to witness but he was going to ensure Logan knew truly how incredible he was. Like how Patton saw him.

“How about we start with shirts and go from there?” Patton suggested hoping a little guidance would encourage Logan to explore some more options without Patton coaxing him into making a decision.

Logan nodded and together they ventured over the small selection of shirts for his age-group. They were apart of a much larger collection of colourful t-shirts, sweaters and hoodies, Patton hoped that something within the vast of choices would pique Logan’s interest. The shirts were displayed and categorised by colour and size, beginning with the simple white, black and grey shirts, moving into brighter colours with a range of pattern shirts located towards the end of the rack. They were further divided into smaller sub-categories by sleeve length. Short. Three-quarter length. Long. Patton remained quiet for a moment, to allow Logan to make his own decision without any interference. Logan moved cautiously towards the rack, eyes carefully studying each shirt. The style. The fit. The colour. Patton believed they may have had a breakthrough until Logan glanced back towards him. He had been skilfully disguising his anxiety until now. Patton could see the worry lines etched between his brow and the conflicted expression he wore. Patton didn’t know why Logan found choosing clothes so difficult but what he did know was that he was support Logan throughout it.

“Is there any particular colour you would like?” Patton asked providing some of the direction that Logan appeared to be searching for. Logan paused for a moment, seemingly deep in thought, before turning his gaze once more onto the rack of shirts. Passing by the more vibrant shades to the simpler ones.

“Either black or navy would be preferable,” Logan answered as he studied those colour categories more closely.

“Great, let’s pick up a couple of sizes and you can try them on,” Patton said as Logan picked up a couple of different sizes in each of the colours but Patton failed to notice how he initially reached for the long sleeved shirt before freezing, snatching up the short sleeved one instead before depositing them in the basket without a second glance.

Choosing trousers was much easier, as Logan had a clear visual of the style and colour he wanted. Black. Simple cut. Again they picked up a couple of sizes before moving on. The same occurred with pyjamas and a coat given that it was almost the exact colour and style as the raincoat he was currently wearing. Logan had began to aimlessly wander the boys section, evidently struggling with the vast array of choice following the few items he presumably deemed to be necessary. These items were also incredibly similar to the outfit he wore on near daily basis and Patton had started to suspect that Logan’s aversion to clothes out of his comfort zone may have been a result of his parents abuse. Patton placed a gentle hand on Logan’s taut shoulder, stopping him from pacing and led him to a quiet corner of the store, free of other customers and employees.

“Hey kiddo, I can tell you are struggling with this and I just wanted to tell you that it is okay if you want to stay in your comfort zone but it is also okay if you want to experiment. Clothing has no rules and it only matters if you feel comfortable and happy in what you are wearing,” Patton explained rubbing small circles into the tightness building in Logan’s shoulder, feeling the muscle tense and relax under his hands. “Like how I wear my cardigan tied around my shoulders, that is my choice because I like it.

“Despite the fact others may view it as unusual?” Logan inquired with a tilt of his head.

“Exactly, wearing it makes me happy so I do,” Patton answered with a smile. “Now, how about we see if we can find something you love,”.

And they did. Patton spotted Logan’s attention wandering over to one particular display in the men’s section. The ties. Patton wore ties exclusively for work or when the occasion required a formal attire and he had a variety of brightly coloured ones, in a ton of interesting patterns. Though he had never met a child who had any interest in wearing a tie but Logan wasn’t like most other children.

“Hey Logan, would you like to look at the ties?” Patton asked snapping Logan out of his distracted state.

“Um…Yes, I would,” Logan said in a near inaudible whisper but Patton heard it and his face immediately broke into a grin. Yes, another breakthrough. They were finally making progress.

“Of course, lets go,” Patton exclaimed stretching out a hand towards Logan which after a moment of hesitation he took. Patton had to fight back a squeal at the adorableness.

Together they walked into the men’s section, towards the display of ties, where each tie was laid out, pre-tided in a variety of colours, patterns and materials. Patton watched as Logan’s expression lit up as he examined each tie, fingertips tracing delicately across the fabric before selecting a simple striped tie in an array of different shades of blue.

“I would very much like this tie,” Logan said a small, glowing smile stretched across his face as he held up the tie towards Patton.

“Of course but I have never met a twelve year old who wanted a tie so badly,” Patton said with a chuckle as he held the basket out towards Logan who dropped in the tie.

“Intelligent and serious people wear neckties and I have always had a desire to be taken seriously,” Logan stated raising his chin, pushing his chest forward and stretching to his full height presumably to appear serious or imposing but it only made him look more adorable and this time Patton didn’t fight back his squeal which resulted in a huff of annoyance from Logan but Patton saw the minuscule smile he was disguising.

They continued to wander around the section, Patton encouraged Logan to pick up a couple of t-shirts which he did somewhat reluctantly, choosing ones in similar colours to the shirts, completely free of any designs or patterns but Patton was proud of him nonetheless. With their basket full and Logan seemingly unwillingly to experiment any further, they made their way to the changing rooms. Patton took a seat in the waiting area while Logan approached the young woman standing at the changing rooms before disappearing into an empty stall. As soon as Logan was out of sight he exhaled deeply, allowing his head to fall back. Today had certainly been difficult but they were making progress, it was slow but he had expected it would be. Logan had been abused for almost the entirety of his short life. He had a severe distrust of people, years of constantly being put down and told he was…worthless he began to believe it, began to believe he didn’t deserve anything. Patton had seen Virgil struggle with the symptoms of his abuse for the past three years but he knew Logan’s situation was different. He had walls. Walls built up to protect himself and though it would take time, Patton was both willing and prepared to take that time to break them down and uncover the real Logan hidden underneath.

After almost ten minutes, Patton began to grow concerned. Logan had been in the changing room for an awfully long time, he wanted to give him privacy and the option to decide whether or not he wanted to show Patton anything he was wearing but he couldn’t help being worried. Another minute went by and Patton decided to check on him. He approached the young woman stationed by the changing rooms.

“Hello, I was wondering what changing room my son went in?” Patton asked.

“It was the large one of the end there,” She responded gesturing to her right at one of the changing rooms which appeared to be considerably larger than the rest.

“Thank you,” Patton said with a polite smile before making his way towards the stall she directed him to. Knocking twice upon the closed door. “Hey Logan, it is me Patton. Are you alright in there?”.

“Um…yes, though I believe I may require a smaller size,” Logan eventually replied in a small voice. Patton sighed sadly. Logan was definitely noticeably underweight for a boy of his age and after discovering how food was kept from him as a punishment at the orphanage, he only hoped he would be able to help Logan reach a healthier weight.

“Okay, can I see?” Patton asked perhaps he could determined Logan’s correct sizes from what he was wearing now.

“I-I…guess,” Logan answered with a shaky breath before opening the door.

Patton gasped as Logan revealed himself, dressed in one of the short-sleeved t-shirts. It hung off of his fragile frame. The sleeves ended just beneath his shoulders exposing the dozens of scars and injuries that littered his arms; cigar burns mixed in between sparse freckles, small white lines etched into his skin stretching from his wrist to far past his elbow, the discoloured bruises still healing from his stay in the hospital. But even worse was the neckline which fall far past his collar-bone, revealing much of his chest, including much of the horrible, raised scar reading the word…worthless carved into his chest. Patton instantly pulled Logan back into the changing room, closing the door quickly behind him. Logan had flinched away at the suddenness, the body trembling all over as he curled in on himself, his breathing growing short and erratic. Beginning the descent into a panic attack.

“Hey, hey, it is okay. You are okay, you are safe,” Patton whispered kneeling in front of Logan, decreasing the distance between them while still giving him space. Why would Logan force himself to wear clothes he knew would reveal his scars? Patton lifted an item he didn’t recognise from the pile of pristinely folded clothes. It was a an incredibly soft, blue jumper, detailing an image of starry night sky and a variety of constellations. Logan must have picked it up while Patton was distracted.

“Here, put this on,”. Patton assisted Logan in pulling the jumper over his head, it completely drowned his tiny frame but it fully concealed his scars. Additionally, Patton lifted the headphones placing them around Logan’s neck to further ground him.

Patton led Logan to sit on a the small bench and knelt in front of him, placing a tentative hand on Logan’s trembling knee, attempting to cease its incessant bouncing. Logan wound his hands deeper into the fabric of the jumper, digging his nails into his arms, his eyes squeezed shut the shaking only intensifying.

“You are okay, just breathe. You are safe here,” Patton repeated hoping to ease his anxiety. “Can you look at me please, Logan?”.

After an elongated silence, Logan opened his eyes slowly, forcing them to meet Patton’s. They were bloodshot and filled with tears. Patton’s heart clenched at the sight. He couldn’t bare to see Logan this way. So terrified he completely withdrew into himself. Even with Logan’s eyes now open his hands tightened around his upper arms, to an extent in which Patton believed he was hurting himself.

“There you are, can I touch you?” Patton asked to which Logan responded with a tentative nod and Patton immediately reached out, gently unwinding Logan’s hands from the vice-like grip on his arms, holding them in his own and rubbing small circles into the pulse points on his wrists. “Now, I need you to breathe for me. You are doing so well,”.

After several rounds of the breathing exercise, Logan’s breathing eventually evened out and his grip loosened on Patton’s hands as he slumped against the wall evidently exhausted from the whole ordeal. Patton released a sigh of relief. He glanced around the changing room, hoping to discover what had triggered Logan’s panic attack. Instantly, he spotted a pile of clothes had been discarded in the far corner of the room. This struck him as odd as Logan was typically meticulous with his organisation and cleaning, with all of his clothes being perfectly folded. On closer inspection of the pile Patton noticed that it was made up entirely of the shirts they had picked up…short-sleeved shirts Patton noted. Why would he purposefully choose clothes he knew would make him uncomfortable?

“Okay, could you tell me what happened?” Patton asked though he already had an idea of what was going on in Logan’s head. Logan simply shrugged and averted his gaze to his lap. “Okay, would you like me to get you some long-sleeved shirts and t-shirts to try on instead?”.

“No!” Logan exclaimed before snatching his hands out of Patton’s and slapping them over his mouth, seconds after the word came out. The suddenness of Logan exclamation surprised Patton. Perhaps something else was going on?

“Can you tell me why? You are clearly uncomfortable,” Patton urged hoping to understand why Logan was intentionally triggering himself by forcing him to bare his scars for the world.

“I’m fine,” Logan whispered lowering his hands from his mouth, leaving angry red indentures behind on his cheeks.

“No, you’re not. Logan, you need to be honest with me. Why are you forcing yourself to wear this?” Patton questioned choosing to keep his hands settled in his lap, hoping Logan would open up with him.

“I…I…It is less expensive for a shirt with short sleeves,” Logan admitted nearly inaudibly, physically deflating following the confession.

Patton sighed. He had expected that yesterdays discussion about Logan’s relationship with money wouldn’t be the end of the problem. But how hadn’t he noticed it sooner? He was so proud that Logan was breaking out of his comfort zone that he hadn’t seen the reasons behind his deliberate actions. A burning hatred grew within his chest. A hatred for those people who attempted to destroy the beautiful spark in Logan. They made him believed that he was a burden on those around him and he did not deserve such a simple act of kindness.

“No, kiddo. I…That isn’t something I care about, I am doing this because I want to,” Patton said fighting against his urge to pull Logan into his arms. “You deserve to have clothes you like and feel happy and comfortable. Me, forcing you to show your scars and struggles to the world. That would hurt you and that is the last thing I want to do, do you understand?”.

“But…” Logan began but Patton quickly cut him off.

“No, Logan, there is no but…you deserve more than I can give you. You deserve to feel safe,” Patton said once again placing a hand on Logan’s knee. “Stay here, I’ll go and get you some long-sleeved shirts,”.

“No! Please don’t,” Logan yelled, leaping to his feet, his hands winding into his hair.

“Why?” Patton asked.

“It’s too much!” Logan shouted pulling harshly at his hair, his entire body was trembling violently. Patton wanted so desperately to understand and to help him but he couldn’t. He was only hurting Logan more. “It’s too much. Too much. Too much. I don’t deserve this. You are wasting your money on me and I need it to stop. You have already given me so much but I cannot accept any more,”.

Logan fell back against the wall once again, slowly lowering himself onto the bench but his hands remained wound tight in his hair, his eyes refusing to meet Patton’s. Patton’s heart seized at Logan’s confession. He was right. He had been moving too fast, without taking into account how Logan would react to such drastic changes so quickly. It was his fault. He should have been more careful. Should have noticed something was wrong sooner. This was all his fault and now Logan was suffering.

“I’m sorry Logan, I’m sorry I put so much pressure on you. But I know those…people who hurt you made you believe that, that you don’t deserve nice things or even the smallest shred of human decency. I don’t want to do that to you. You are so incredible and intelligent and you deserve to be loved Logan. Okay?” Patton said once again reaching out to take Logan’s hands, which he allowed, removing them from the tight grip on his hair, simply holding them in his own.

“Okay…I-I apologise for my…outburst,” Logan mumbled just loud enough for Patton to hear and tightened his grip on Patton’s hands.

“You have nothing to apologise for. This road will be long and difficult but we’ll walk it together,” Patton promised placing a gentle kiss on his forehead before they were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door of the changing room.

“Um…Excuse me, is everything alright in there?” a female voice asked, Patton assumed it was the woman who had been standing by the changing rooms when they first entered. Patton stood and partially opened the door to the changing room, revealing the same young woman he had spoken to previously, an expression of concern painted across her face.

“Yes, we are alright, thank you,” Patton said with a polite smile which the woman returned and then an idea came to him. He collected the crumpled pile of t-shirts and shirts off of the floor and returned to where the employee was waiting. “I was wondering if I could exchange these for ones a size smaller and with long-sleeves?”.

“Of course, I’ll do that right away for you,” She said taking the items from Patton, disregarding their crumbled state.

“Thank you so much,” Patton replied a beaming smile stretching across his lips.

“It is no problem. I’ll be back in a moment,” She said before disappearing into the clothes racks.

A few minutes later the employee returned with the new clothes and Patton left the changing room to allow Logan to change in private. After a moment of waiting, the changing room door opened and Logan stepped out, dressed in one of the black shirts. It fit him perfectly, it was a couple of sizes below his age group but this was only the beginning.

“Aw kiddo, it looks great. Do you like it?” Patton asked hoping Logan would answer him honestly.

“I do,” Logan responded averting his gaze to his shoes, a soft pink glow beginning to develop on his cheeks.

“I’m glad to hear it, kiddo,” Patton beamed, releasing a squeal of joy. “Come on, put everything back in the basket and I’ll pick up a few more,”. Logan nodded and after he changed back into his own clothes he began to collect the various shirts and pairs of trousers scattered around the changing room, dropping them into the basket, leaving one distinct item behind. “What about the sweater, Logan?”. Patton manoeuvred around Logan, into the changing room and lifted the sweater which been left perfectly folded sitting in the bench.

“It is unnecessary,” Logan stated but Patton saw the way Logan’s anxiety eased somewhat after wearing the sweater and how even now his gaze lingered on item.

“Do you like it?” Patton asked Logan plainly.

“It…It possess a unusual calming affect,” Logan answered after another period of silence.

“Well I’d say that is a pretty good reason to get it,” Patton exclaimed putting it into the basket before Logan could protest and to Patton’s surprise he didn’t. Logan simply smiled, albeit small and almost unnoticeable but a smile nonetheless and slipped silently from the changing room but in that moment Patton couldn’t have been prouder.

Logan was exhausted. After his admittedly embarrassing outburst, his body felt - speaking figuratively - as heavy as lead. Perhaps this is how Virgil often felt, given his tired disposition. Once they paid for the clothes which Logan still believed was too much both in the quantity and ultimate cost of all of the items together but it appeared Patton couldn’t be reasoned with yet Logan did appreciate his kind words and actions whilst he was in the midst of his panic. They had lunch and Patton asked if Logan would prefer to return to the house or progress onto their final location. Despite his fatigue he agreed to continue on, so not to disappoint Patton any more that he believed he already, regardless of Patton’s claims of the opposite. Following lunch, they continued further into the mall. It was far busier now than it had been that morning, so Logan remained closer to Patton to avoid becoming swept away in the crowd of bodies. Patton seemed to be in a relatively upbeat mood, humming along to the lyric-less muzak playing from the speakers, swinging the shopping bag with each bouncy step, his free hand swayed by his side. And before Logan could comprehend what he was doing, he reached out and took Patton’s hand but once he realised what he had done and attempted remove it Patton had it squeezed within his own and a blinding smile lit up his face. It only took a short while to reach the final location. A opticians.

“I thought we could get your eyes tested because I noticed you tend you squint a lot to see even when wearing your glasses so I think it might be time for a new prescription and we can get you a new pair of glasses as well,” Patton explained. It made sense. Logan’s current spectacles were now far past the point of usefulness, potentially damaging his vision more than not wearing them at all. So new glasses seemed to be a necessity.

They were greeted by an assistant almost immediately and they instructed them to sit in the waiting area for the optometrist, who also arrived in a matter of minutes following which they were led to an examination room where the questioning began. It was relatively difficult to explain why he did not have an official opticians record or why he hadn’t had a check-up for the past six years or why he was wearing glasses which were both broken and a much weaker prescription than he actually required, without disclosing the fact that his biological parents refused to have his eyes tested until they received several notices from his elementary school urging them to do so however, following this they also removed him from formal education. But Patton managed to clarify the situation without revealing too much private information. Logan found the physical eye examination quite straightforward. It was like a test he took in the Orphanage and he was very good at tests. A test like this was simple especially as he knew all of the answers. The optometrist attempted to make small talk throughout the examination, asking about his hobbies and interests but Logan was far too focused on the projected images to provide any detailed answers but thankfully Patton seemed to note his disconnect and quickly entered the conversation. What Logan didn’t enjoy was the copious amount of physical contact. Every time the optometrist’s hand approached his face he had to fight against the near uncontrollable urge to flinch away from the contact, sinking his nails into the flesh of his thighs to maintain any sort of self-control.

After the lengthy and extremely detailed examination, they discovered that Logan’s eyesight had severely deteriorated and he would required a considerably stronger prescription to be able to see properly. It was concluded that a combination of the natural decline of his eyesight over the years and him wearing the incorrect prescription for so long was the ultimate cause for the significant deterioration. The next step was the selection process, where he would be able to choose a new pair of glasses. They were brought back to the main floor by a different assistant, who led them to one of the many displays which filled the main front of the opticians.

“Now, since he is under the age of sixteen, he will be entitled to free glasses,” The woman explained. The fact that the glasses would be without charge was extremely comforting as Logan had already cost Patton a considerable amount today and he would rather not add to that total. “Here, we have our boys glasses for you to choose from. If you need anything at all or have any question just call me over,”.

“Alright, thank you,” Patton said to the woman as she left to greet another customer. “Now Logan, do you see any you like?”.

Logan studied the display. The selection was relatively limited with many of the styles primarily consisting of bright colours and designs depicting characters and symbols he did not recognise detailing the temples, presumably suited towards the vast population of twelve year old boys but Logan knew he was different. Perhaps if he had Patton as a father since birth, would he have turned out differently? Would he have been less robotic? Less aloof? Less…broken. Logan swiftly shook those thoughts from his mind, turning attention back onto the display, particularly towards the bottom of it where the ‘plainer’ spectacles were located. He tried on a couple of pairs and every time Patton would either squeal or compliment him in some over-the-top fashion before Logan found some sort of fault with them and decided against them. Until he selected one pair. It was a simple black with no elaborate pattern or design, a straight rim but slightly curved lenses and when he put them on they fit him almost perfectly.

“I believe these are satisfactory,” Logan said into the mirror before turning towards Patton for his opinion. Who after a moment of silence burst into a fit of giggles and Logan was taken aback, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Did he really look so bad that Patton would laugh at him. “Might I ask what you are laughing at?”.

“Sorry…I’m sorry kiddo…It-it is just that I think you have chosen the same glasses as mine,” Patton said in between snorts and giggles. Logan glanced up at Patton glasses, they were different from the large circular frames he recalled. They were…exactly the same frames as Logan had selected. He immediately took them off, placing them back onto the display.

“I apologise, I’ll pick another pair,” Logan said.

“No, no, it is alright. It just thought it was funny that is all. If you like them you should get them, then we will be matching,” Patton exclaimed a beaming smile stretching across his lips.

So Logan did. The assistant returned. Logan had his measurements taken and Patton filled out and signed yet more forms and then they were on their way back to the house as it would take a couple of day before Logan’s glasses would be ready to collect. Back in the car, Logan found himself struggling to keep his eyes open which did not escape the notice of Patton.

“You can sleep if you like, I’ll wake you up when we get home,” Patton said softly turning down the volume of the radio and Logan fell instantly to sleep, lulled by the quiet rumbling of the car’s engine and the soft notes of the radio.

Logan awoke abruptly with a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake. It was Patton. Oh, they must be back at the house now. He unbuckled himself and exited the car, a little unsteady but Patton quickly stabilised him and led him into the house and up to his room where Logan immediately collapsed onto the bed. Much to the amusement of Patton. He had brought up the shopping bag of clothes they had bought and began to put them away into the empty wardrobe and drawers, which Logan had neglected to fill with the clothes he had brought from the Orphanage, choosing instead to keep them tucked away in the rucksack he had hidden beneath his bed.

“Hey Logan, do you think I could get the clothes out of your bag? I just want to put everything away,” Patton asked. It seemed Logan hadn’t been as secretive with his belongings as he originally believed since Patton seemingly knew he had been purposefully hiding them. Logan nodded, removing the bag from underneath his bed and the clothes from within it, giving them to Patton without an explanation. “Thank you Logan, I’ll let you sleep in a minute but I think we need to talk about something first,”.

Logan silently agreed despite how much he wished to avoid this topic of conversation. Patton presumably already knew much of Logan’s past from speaking to the matrons at the Orphanage, Dr Hastings at the hospital and seeing Logan’s own injuries for himself but despite all that, he couldn’t bring himself to tell Patton any of it himself. Once Patton finished putting the last of the clothing into its correct drawer he joined Logan on the bed.

“I know today was really tough for you but you got through it and I am so proud of you for that,” Patton began placing a gentle a hand on Logan knee. “But I think you and I both know it won’t be the last hard time we’ll face but I promise you that I will never leave you alone ever again. Okay, we will need to talk about what happened today, not right now but sometime soon and if you ever want to talk to me or tell me about anything I’ll be happy to listen. Okay?”.

“Okay…Th-thank you Patton, truly, thank you for everything,” Logan said the strange, indescribable warmth returning to his chest, filling his abdomen with an odd bubbling sensation seemingly intensifying depending on his proximity to Patton. It was new but not unwelcome.

“Get some sleep now, I’ll come get you when dinner is ready,” Patton said pressing a light kiss into Logan’s hair which only strengthened the feeling within his body and with those words and the warmth enveloping his body he drifted peacefully off to sleep.

Patton did as he said and woke Logan once dinner had been prepared and he found that he had a far greater appetite than he did that morning though he still kept to his rules. Roman, Virgil and Declan were also present having returned from school and their grandparents house. They carried much of the conversation, talking about their experiences at school, classes and clubs. While Logan simply listened. He could scarcely remember his own experience at a public school, given that it was six years ago now. Maggie had taught the children at the Orphanage to the best of her ability but there were limits so Logan began his own studies outside of Maggie’s lessons. Due to his own heightened intelligence, he knew information far beyond his years and he was lucky Maggie decided to nourish that talent. She gave him textbooks, would mark pages and pages of his work, providing constructive criticism on every piece. But what now? Would he attend school with Roman and Virgil? If so when?.

Once dinner was finished, Logan was ushered off back to his room after he attempted to assist Patton with the dishes and he found himself kneeling in front of the drawers Patton had previously filled. Searching for one item in particular. Each drawer was neatly organised and each item perfectly folded and the item he was searching was located at the top of one of the drawers. The dark blue jumper detailing a night sky theme and various different constellations that Patton urged him to get. Logan couldn’t explain what drew him to picking up the simple sweater when she was so averse to Patton purchasing him anything. Perhaps it was the colour - navy blue was his favourite colour - or maybe it was depiction of one of Logan favourite subjects or was is the pleasing texture? Whatever drove him to selecting the sweater, when he put it on he felt overcomes by an unexplainable warmth similar to the one which entered his body whenever he was around Patton and the simple piece of fabric seemed to possess some of the same calming qualities Patton did, obviously not the same extent but he never wanted that feeling to leave him. Logan undressed, replacing his simple black shirt with the incredibly soft sweater and sat on the edge of his bed as a air of tranquillity washed over him but just as he was about to grab one of the books and begin reading their was a sharp, short knock at the door.

“Hey…uh…um…It’s me…Virgil. Can I come in?” Virgil asked evidently anxious in anticipation of Logan’s answer.

“Yes, come in,” Logan answered and Virgil entered holding a small computer device, carefully in his arms. “Why did you knock?”.

“Uh…because it’s your room,” Virgil stated as if it were obvious. “And Roman always barges into my room with another stupid nickname, so don’t do that,”.

“Alright, is there anything anything I can assist you with?” Logan asked assuming there was a purpose to Virgil’s visit and it wasn’t a random occurrence.

“Oh yeah, dad is letting me use his laptop and I was going to look for a present for Roman’s birthday…I was wondering if you wanted to help me look?” Virgil asked fidgeting with the cuff of his hoodie sleeve. Logan recalled Roman mentioning something in regards to his upcoming birthday. He had almost forgotten how ‘normal’ birthdays were celebrated, since he had never had one throughout his time living with his parents and living at the orphanage.

“Okay,” Logan responded and Virgil grinned.

“Cool, budge up,” Virgil said as he walked over to where Logan was sat. Logan moved over to accommodate the additional person. Virgil took the spot Logan had offered, leaning against the wall with the laptop balanced on his lap, Logan shifted to sit beside him. “I thought since dad hasn’t set up your allowance yet, we’ll just say whatever I get is from the three of us. Me, you and Dee,”.

“Allowance?” Logan inquired.

“Oh…you know…money your parents give you every month,” Virgil explained as he began to type something into the computer.

“Oh,” Logan said Patton was going to give him more money, even after everything he had already spent on clothes and furnishings for his room. A ball of anxiety began to grow within the pit of his stomach.

“Yeah…I don’t like it either but dad will just do it anyway, I don’t normally spend any unless it is for birthdays,” Virgil said growing quieter as he spoke until he shook his head, refocusing his attention on the screen. “I want to get him something good,”.

“I thought you disliked Roman yet you are here asking for assistance with gift ideas. Why?” Logan questioned, Virgil and Roman’s relationship was a strange concept to him, they appeared to resent each other, goading one another with nicknames but at times respected, cared for and protected each other. It was a rather confusing relationship.

“Nah…we get on most of the time, making fun of each other is kind of how we bond. I don’t know…we don’t hate each other, he helps me a lot so I want to get him something he will like…so yeah,” Virgil explained continuing to type and scroll on the computer.

“That is understandable, what did you want to get him as a gift?” Logan asked.

“I think dad is getting him an easel so I was thinking about some art stuff, you know,” Virgil answered Logan knew Roman enjoyed art and was a competent artist, so purchasing supplies which would assist in pursuing that passion made logical sense. “Like a sketchbook, paints and stuff like that,”.

“I believe that is a good idea, a gift associated with his passion would surely be appreciated,” Logan said. Virgil nodded and brought up a specific website of various art materials and began to scroll through the assortment of products displayed on the website.

After a period of time of scrolling through the items, discussing potential options for suitable gifts and what Roman would think of each specific item either himself or Virgil pointed out. They found a few particular gifts that Logan and Virgil believed Roman would appreciate; a large, red leather-bound sketchbook, a watercolour palette which contained a variety of vibrant colours and a selection of stickers that according to Virgil all made some sort of witticism in regards to the artistic field.

“And we’re done, thanks L,” Virgil said closing the laptop and leaping up from his sitting position on Logan’s bed, a series of pops are clicks were emitted from his spine as he stretched. Logan once again noted the use of ‘L’ in reference to himself.

“There is no need for your thanks, this was an enjoyable experience, “ Logan responded with a polite smile. He had initially worried that neither Roman or Virgil wished to associate with him, following his intrusion into their family and lives but that seemed not to be the case, at least in regards to Virgil so far.

“Alright,”Virgil said with a smirk. “Uh…well, I’ll see you later…Um…your jumper is cool by the way,” Virgil spoke the last section of his statement so quickly, Logan nearly missed what he said entirely but before Logan’s brain could compute Virgil had disappeared into the corridor, presumably to return to his own room.

Now alone, Virgil’s final words rang throughout his mind. He glanced downwards at his hands which were nearly entirely concealed by the soft blue material and he smiled. It may not be what Logan considered to be an necessity but Patton was right, like his cardigan this simple piece of fabric made Logan happy. That was its purpose. To bring joy.

Perhaps the unnecessary does have a purpose after all.

Notes: Where I live glasses are free if you are under a certain age and I don’t know how it works in America so that is my reasoning.

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#sander sides #sander sides au #Adoption AU #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #symapthetic deceit #janus sanders #Emile Picani #cartoon therapy #found families #home is where the hart is #original characters #My writing #My fic #thomas sanders

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justjessame · 3 years

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Home Sweet Home Chapter 4

I could hear the lyrical sound of Aria’s giggles ringing from the kitchen as I came down the stairs barely twenty minutes after Harvey had taken her downstairs to get breakfast started. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon mingled with the sweeter fragrance of maple syrup warned me of a sticky welcome waiting for me in the form of French toast and a happier toddler.

Sure enough, she was in her booster seat with what I felt certain was her second piece of perfectly made, just messy enough breakfast bordering on dessert with a far jollier disposition than what she left me with upstairs.

“Mama, look,” she waved her fork, holding a piece of her toast and I bit my lip, hoping that she’d stabbed it tight enough to keep it in place until she got it to her mouth. Either my prayer, or her will to keep every piece for herself was strong, because it made it to its proper end and her grin was infectious.

Smiling, I moved closer and leaned over to rub my nose against hers, pleased to see it was still free of sugar and goop. “You’re gonna be so hyper and ready to play with Grandma,” I murmured, pulling back as Harvey’s body molded into mine to helpfully place my plate on the table beside Aria’s before he joined his two girls. “I’m sure Daddy wanted to make sure you two had so much fun, that’s why he picked French toast.” Our eyes met over our little girl’s head and his were twinkling with the mischievousness that told me I was correct. “I’m surprised you didn’t think to add powdered sugar for an extra kick,” shaking my head I took a sip from my juice before skipping the syrup and adding just a bit of butter to my slice.

“Considered it,” Harvey admitted, making me giggle. “Thought it might be pushing it just a bit.” His nose crinkled and that did it, the giggle grew and Aria, not quite sure what was so damn funny went with it and joined my laughter.

Breakfast with the three of us wasn’t all that rare, but after what Harvey had dealt with in Chicago, we lingered a bit longer. I lingered longer, needing the reassurance that we were still alright. That he was real and fine. That Aria’s daddy and my husband was - I didn’t really understand why it took this particular case to force me to face the reality of what Harvey actually did for a living, for a calling, but it was a harsh dose.

When we heard my mom’s voice calling out, Aria had forgotten that she was sad that Grandma was coming to visit. She forgot that Grandma coming meant less time alone with Daddy. She clapped and was nearly as excited about her visiting as she had been about the big ‘monee’.

The same could not be said of Harvey. “Here we go -” his eyes closed, as if he were mentally preparing for the worst, or praying for strength and I sighed.

“There you are,” Mom said, coming into the kitchen with a grin, her eyes focused on Aria. “There’s Grandma’s little peacock.” She held out her arms and Aria held up her own as Mom clucked her tongue. “I see SOMEONE thought starting out the day with copious amounts of sugar would be the best way to jump start tiny little minds. Guess you and I are starting OUR day with a bath, Aria.” Mom shook her head and smiled down at me once she got our little one settled in her arms. “Today’s a regular schedule, isn’t it Everlea?” I nodded, suddenly thinking that MAYBE Harvey was right. “That color really looks lovely on you, sweetheart.” I was about to remind her that Harvey was RIGHT THERE, but then she sniffed. “I suppose that YOU are going to be underfoot today?” She barely glanced at him, but a shift of her eyes included my husband in the conversation. “After that mess you all made of Chicago yesterday, I’d have thought YOUR people would be on hand to clean it up. Isn’t that what you brag about doing? Cleaning CRAP up?”

My eyes widened, how had I missed this? It wasn’t even that hard to see. Dear God. I glanced at Harvey and his eyes were on me in a clear message of ‘told you so’. “I get to paper push today, Evelyn.” He was being polite, and short. “As soon as I’m done, you can head on out and me and MY girl can have Daddy and mini me time.”

“Mimi Me time!” Aria picked up the thread and ran with it, forcing Mom’s eyebrows to try to meet in the middle. Shit.

“Chicago was a poo-show,” Mom was adamant that we NOT curse around Aria, and she was the poster woman for it. Little did she know, Aria might be a parrot about most things, but we’d managed to figure out the code for how to keep her from NOT repeating THOSE words. “Surely you’ll be up to your poo colored eyeballs in paper pushing to clean it up.”

I was watching them lob verbal hits back and forth, because Harvey had a comeback locked and ready for her. “Why, Evelyn, I didn’t know you paid attention to the color of my eyes. I’m flattered.” That damn dimple of his coming out even as he followed up with more on the likelihood of work taking all day. “As for the paperwork? How hard is it to write ‘big animals wrecked city, fix it, now’? I’m not a genius, but even I can type that over and over.”

It was like a tennis match of words, and I was in the middle of it, but my eyes managed to make a detour to the clock and I knew I had to go. Standing up, which forced a time out, I kissed Aria first. Telling her to be good for Grandma, let Daddy work - which got a smirk from Mom - and then I turned to Harvey. The look in his eyes made me want to shake my head, but seeing that he was right, my mom really did have a grudge against him, for some reason had me react in a completely different way.

Instead of a nice, staid, we’ve-been-married-for-long-enough-to-be-comfortable type of goodbye kiss - I stepped up to him and when our lips met the same passion flared up that had in the shower, or the bathtub, or our bed. If my mother wanted to freak out because Harvey had helped me create our daughter. The same little girl she was holding and who she couldn’t spoil enough, I’d like to add. Then this kiss would sear into her brain that the love and passion that went into making Aria still burned bright and wasn’t ending any time soon.

“Honestly,” Mom muttered, when we finally broke apart, but our eyes were still locked on one another. “Do you think that’s appropriate for Aria to see?”

“I’ll see you tonight,” I promised Harvey, ignoring my mother for a beat. “We’ll continue THIS -”

The rough skin of Harvey’s thumbpad brushed the skin under my eye. “I’m holding you to that.” He looked like I felt like parting today felt wrong and was harder than it ever had been. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” With a sigh, I pulled away to face Mom who had let Aria down. I guess her arms got tired. “Yes, Mom, it’s appropriate for Aria to see that her parents love one another. There is NOTHING wrong with a child seeing displays of affection. It’s not like we were having sex.”

Mom sniffed at me, as if our kiss - which was admittedly bordering on a makeout session in the kitchen - was far greater than a display of affection. “You’re going to be late, Ever.”

“It’s MY office, Mom.” I was moving toward the door anyway. “Thank you for coming over,” I kissed her on the cheek as I passed her. “Be nice to him? Please?”

“No promises, Everlea Grace.” Her tone wasn’t nearly as stern though, so I had hope that I’d come home to a house still standing and my family intact.

The best part about leaving my position as the attending physician in the emergency room and starting up my own practice wasn’t just that it was less stress or the shorter hours. It was the small group of people I’d brought together to create a clinic that felt warm and comforting, while also managing to give our patients the confidence in our expertise.

I was thankful that the day went as smoothly as I expected from a regular day, no surprises, no upheaval to my routine. As I hung up my stethoscope after my final patient was on her way out the door, having gotten her next appointment scheduled and I double checked that I’d sent her prescriptions through to her pharmacy, I was debating whether I should call home to see if I was walking into a disaster area or if Mom and Harvey had called a truce.

“Everlea?” I’d been grabbing my bag and keys from my office when my receptionist, Kendra, ducked her head through the door. Looking up, she took it as an opening to continue. “Harvey called while you were with Mrs. Callahan.” I waited, hoping it was something benign, and not a call telling me he was off to make another shitty bed. “He wanted me to ask you to pick up a bottle of wine, whatever your mom prefers?” She shrugged her shoulder and I nodded.

“Thanks, Kendra.” I pulled my bag across my chest. “I think Mark is still in Exam 3 with Mr. Randolph -”

She grinned at me. “Yeah, it’s his monthly, so it’ll take a while to get through the list.” Mr. Randolph did like to be thorough when he had his monthly visit. “Don’t worry, Everlea, we’ll lock up.”

“I know you will,” I assured her. “I just wanted to make sure I remembered.” Shaking my head, I thought how long the past twenty-four hours seemed.

“Hey,” my eyes met hers. “Harvey’s practically indestructible, Everlea, and he’s home, right?”

I sighed. “I know, I know.” Moving toward the door, Kendra moved with me, following behind so she could lock the entrance behind me so no one wandered in after hours. Letting Mr. Randolph out was nothing compared to telling someone we weren’t a walk-in clinic. “I can’t seem to shake it this time.”

“Well,” Kendra took her time before she spoke, obviously thinking about my predicament. “I guess, if you think about it, it was bound to happen eventually. I mean, the stress has to compound to the point that it gets too heavy at some point, right?”

Another sigh and I nodded. “I guess, but I really wish it hadn’t.”

Kendra was chuckling as I crossed over to outside. “No one wants that kind of stress, but you and Harvey will figure it out -”

“We always do,” I supplied, my smile returning, thinking about how that was Harvey’s line.

#Agent Harvey Russell/OFC #Rampage 2018 #alternative universe

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yanderedbh-moved · 4 years

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The Yanderes + Fluff Scenarios

The third installment of this little series, I guess I have now of the yanderes in typical fanfiction tropes.

Smut

H/C

Connor

While it may be tricky for him to grasp the concept of personal hobbies (as in performing tasks with no real tangible pay off or goal in mind.) He experiences a very wholesome and heartwarming sense of pride from watching you doing what you love. In your element and feeling so free.

Connor experiencing the charming sense of alarm one typically feels when fostering a crush for another. Worrying if you secretly knew but weren’t telling him, would you lead him on, were you personally seeing someone else right now, etc.

Though it might seem small, Connor enjoys leaving the house every now and then to just get a pleasant walk in to see his home city while not on the clock. It’s a considerably understated freedom the android only learned to appreciate once he was granted the choice to do so himself.

Markus

It’s pretty commonly accepted at this point Markus loves reading, for so many reasons. For one thing, it reminds him of his home and of his father figure who possessed a vast array of different books of great diversity. As well as the pure pleasure of enjoying a little alone time away from the noise of the outside world.

In a relationship, Markus would be an excellent partner when it comes to empowerment! He would absolutely want to teach you different ways to defend yourself and would want to ensure you had the skills and know-how to keep yourself safe out there.

Also isn’t above using the fact he’s the leader of Jericho to his advantage. As in, if he knows you’re having issues with someone in your life, and it’s causing you to feel unsafe and on edge, he would ensure this person knew just who they were messing with, along with sending the message to back off.

Kara

Once the two of you finally manage to find a stable life for yourselves, and Alice Kara would finally receive the chance for fun, inconsequential domestic life, she never had the opportunity to live out before.

Kara really enjoys having a human partner far more than she ever expected to! For so many reasons, but a personal favorite of hers is keeping you company in the final few moments before you fall asleep. It’s just the two of you, and you’re mind’s practically shut off, and she really enjoys the way you so completely relax into her.

Alice is shown to enjoy drawing and art, so you can imagine once she actually lives in a comfortable, stable environment, she feels much more comfortable expressing herself. Kara loves to keep her child’s drawing as keepsakes and is something of a hoarder when it comes to pictures Alice draws of the three of you.

Hank

It’s tricky at the start, but you do your best to get Hank out of the house more. To try and urge him to move on, to fall back in love with life, promising him you’ll be by his side every step of the way.

Furthermore, when you actually do get around to moving in with Hank, there’s a kind of an inexpressible breath of life he feels. Like for the first time in so long, this place actually feels like a home again, and not just where he lives.

Mushy, ultra-sweet romance isn’t precisely Hank’s style, but he would still find other little ways to make you feel loved. He’s more the one to use endearing sarcasm or an affectionate nickname to express his real emotions.

Luther

Imagine having to try and lift yourself all the way up to your tiptoes to get a kiss on the cheek from him. While he could always just lean down and help you out, he thinks it’s kind of cute to watch you try so hard.

He likes to be in bed with you, to make you feel close and held while you’re getting your rest. While physically, he may not need the sleep, keeping you close, wishing this moment won’t ever end is profoundly therapeutic for Luther.

North

Small acts of kindness and taking care of North in little ways may not feel like much to the outside observer, however, considering she’s never received treatment so gentle and sweet from anyone else in her life? Yeah, it’s more than enough to leave her feeling beyond blessed.

Imagine an intense moment with North. The two of you are working in a group, and the stress of it all is rising. She’s doing her best to keep composure, but she slips up and accidentally refers to you by a silly nickname she gave you, and you can’t help but crack up a little bit, despite the situation.

When it comes to dating North, it’s essential to have a bit of a thick skin. When she first begins to develop feelings for you, she might feel overwhelmed and confused by her own emotions and say something hurtful to try and keep you at a distance. Later on though, when she feels more comfortable opening up to you, North would definitely apologize for this and regret this mistake severely.

Simon

So much long-distance pining! About a fifty-fifty split between Simon being an absolute mess of emotions, along with him wondering how in the world he’s ever going to muster up the courage to confess to you.

It’s pretty critical not to rush him or anything here. At the best of times, Simon can be a bit stressed out, and maybe a little high strung. Even though he genuinely cares about you, it’s important to respect his space and understand that he needs a little patience on your end.

(This is debatable, but I think it adds up.) Simon is the android with maybe the most extended history with humans, and because of that has gathered a great deal of information via observation. He knows how to treat humans gently and is a much better kisser than he would let on.

Josh

In his darker, more pessimistic moments, there are times when Josh wonders if there’s really any hope for a future in which humans and androids live together in peace. In times like this, he really needs you as the little positive voice he can relly on to assure him there’s still hope and time to find peace and love between androids and humans.

Now that androids are granted far more space to exist freely of their own volition Josh rather enjoys taking you out on a quiet little one on one date. It’s nice to see the city how it was meant to be seen, and there’s no one he would rather share this with than you.

Much like his leader, when Josh has the free time to spend, Josh is something of a bookworm. However, for him, it’s much more a chance to explore a new hobby he’s no experience with, rather than to re-capture memories of the past. (Also he has a soft spot for romance novels, fight me.)

Kamski

(This one is up for debate, but...) Kamski gives off the vibes of someone who could kill at chess. It could be a fun little game between the two of you, to see if one day you could beat him, but he’s been playing since he was a child, so chances are slim, to say the least.

He’s productive and innovative to a fault, and he would really relly on you to look out for him and his health. Or, in other words, to drag him to bed and keep him from completely wrecking his sleep schedule in the name of progress.

Even though it’s rather common for him to leave the house in the name of giving an interview, a speech or a lecture hall, or something of the sort, Kamski would understand if you were the kind of person to prefer to stay home, or otherwise out of the spotlight.

Chloe

One thing which never fails to make Chloe feel better is playing with your hair, on the condition you do the same with her later. Also, bonus points if you agree to take pictures with her afterward.

She’s beyond sensitive to others' emotions, especially to yours, and there’s just something about your smile and your laugh, which sticks with her. It’s infectious to her, and she can’t get enough.

If she finds you’ve fallen asleep somewhere, Chloe really loves to just curl up and sleep next to you like a cat.

Gavin

He’s really the one to pretend to fall asleep if the two of you were cuddling either in bed or on the couch because he loves whenever you tuck him in and kiss his head goodnight. It’s something he likely never received growing up, and it means a lot to him to get that now.

The first time you ever see him all cleaned up and in beautiful clothes is more than a little shocking to you, and it’s difficult not to stare upon seeing him actually putting forth and effort.

Ralph

It doesn’t matter if you’ve only been gone for a couple hours, or for the entire day, when you come back, Ralph is always there to greet you at the door, ready to welcome you back, with the ecstatic energy of a puppy.

A quiet, but deeply profound moment Ralph has when he realizes he doesn’t actually want to live all alone, and that he genuinely finds happiness sharing his space with a human. There’s more to life than hiding.

You assure him that you think he looks exactly perfect just the way he is. There’s no need for him to try and “fix” the way he looks, and in your eyes, there’s no reason for him to feel lesser, or inadequate in any way.

Daniel

Embracing shamelessly “childish” activities with him. Things like decorating the house for holidays, cleaning games, arts and crafts, that sort of thing. It might appear silly on the surface, but to Daniel, it’s some of the few happy memories he has of his old life.

When Daniel decides to commit to a serious, loving relationship with you, Daniel is making a legitimate commitment here. He is actively choosing to embrace his emotions, and not to try and run away from them,

At his worst, Daniel can be very high strung and impulsive, so you must know plenty of de-stress activities to keep him under control.

Nines

Nines absolutely struggle with the initial symptoms of lovesickness. He grapples with worrying if you’ll ever love him back, or worse, that you wouldn’t even consider loving something which was designed to serve a strictly utilitarian purpose.

To his surprise, there’s a little bit of satisfaction Nines feels upon experiencing things like longing and tenderness. There is something to be said for experiencing these abstract emotions in any regard, considering how contrary to his programming they are.

Nines possesses a very strong memory and is one of the best you’ll ever meet. Those two factors together result in an android who knows basically everyone’s business, and who is very difficult to keep secrets from.

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