#and Martin really for breaking and entering | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gallivantingheart · 5 months ago

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synopsis: y/n is a witch from a long bloodline of illustrious Spellmasters. After a spell gone awry, they are left cursed to age prematurely and disfigured. In shame, they run and end up in the picturesque town of Martine to regroup and lift the curse. Enter Class A Spellmaster, Jeonghan - a little boastful of his talents, honestly - who agrees to assist in their research. All the while, a vicious wizarding manhunt sweeps the land - but what does the handsome Spellmaster have to do with it?

pairing: wizard!jeonghan x (f)reader feat. wizards seungkwan, mingyu, seokmin, soonyoung + joshua

word count: 41k+ (holy shit.)

genre/s: howl’s moving castle-inspired au, fluff, humour, romance, magic!

warnings: some very!minor body horror and dysmorphia, mentions of persecution by demographic, minor mention of blood, inaccurate references to witchcraft practices, some kissing

a/n: welcome, esteemed reader, to a fic over three years in the making. spawned from hannie's pretty pretty hair in ready to love era. my poor geriatric laptop is currently hemorrhaging due to the sheer amount of text right now. bear in mind that while this may be my magnum opus, doesn't mean it's going to be amazing. just damn long, which was never my strong suit. but hey, lore so deep i have a glossary? i hope you enjoy the ride anyway! also also @wonwooslibrary SAMMMM, SHIT LOOK I DID IT!!! thank you for your capital letter support, reading drafts and hearing my constant empty promise word count updates.

You caught your image in the reflection of a window; a bus stopping at a crossroads. By Merlin, you looked like a ghoul - swathed in layers of loose fabric, hooded to hide your face from direct vision. It was a recent image you had taken on in the last few days since you had left your family home.

You had cried for most of it, as if in mourning. Your veins feel empty and breathing is dull. You can’t feel the magic that you know is always in the air for the first time in your life and you’re panicking. Like drowning in a void. Suki, your familiar, looks as if she’s taken on a form of mange, her flickering whiskers wiry. She yowls often, glaring at you every moment you’re both awake.

It’s not until you reach a tram line and lopsided tram depot that you realise that you’re almost out of pity money in a far-off town. Said tram dings as it passes. Martine.

You went there growing up for a few school breaks. A hilly, seaside town that felt too modern yet nostalgic with its intricate and old tram network and tall brickwork. You really have been walking for a while.

You look at Suki. “Well. Back to civilization, huh?”

She seems to curl her lips up at you to bare yellowed fangs and turns to stalk down the main road. Fair enough.

In the time you’ve walked, you’ve had a lot of time to think of your next move. Too ashamed to turn back. Afraid of the debris you’d left behind and the consequences from it. You didn’t want to remember, ironically enough, seeing as memory spells are what got you in this mess in the first place. If you don’t want to go back, you must go forward. Fix this - and Suki, you guess. So, you had to reach for magic again and find a cure. It wasn’t hard for you to make that choice; you yearned for it to spark at your fingertips again.

But you feel so ashamed, wandering the town of Martine, a slovenly beggar in a matter of days. Just as people had on the walk here, everyone avoids any eye contact with you and Suki. Monsters in public, too grotesque to look at. Limp and withered on a park bench, you slip further and further into self-absorbed depression. How old were you now? How were you to survive? Where do you even begin?

A large hand touches your shoulder. In the almost-night, a tall young man smiles gently. “You look lost - are you okay?”

You shake your head slowly. “I - well no…”

“I’m Kim Mingyu, first of my name. You must be tired and hungry - Martine is quite far away from any other towns. Did you want a bite to eat?” He guides you to your feet, making your decision for you even as you protest in confusion.

“I, well yes, but - I have no money or - wait -”

He shakes his head and feather light, steers you through the streets to a corner of town a little less busy, but further uphill. Something more suburban. Suki doesn’t protest for the first time since the curse has struck.

“Don’t worry. I’d feel terrible leaving you exposed to the elements like that. Think of this as something for me rather than a favour for you. To keep my conscience clear.” He babbles on as shop signs are turned closed and street lamps are lit.

“Ah, here we are.” Mingyu says to a small manor house.

It’s quaint compared to the other houses that line the street, but still extravagant by regular residential means. Faded red brick and a thatched roof with a blooming front garden and white picket fence. Hanging from the fence is a lovely sign – Aji’s Home Away from Home: B&B. He doesn’t even lock his front door! In the entryway there is an altar, a wooden spoon amongst it - you bow. Leading you both down the low hallway, Mingyu seats you at a round dining table and swiftly puts a tattered apron over his head. The table rocks a little on old, uneven legs and he chats with you as he sets up.

“I never got your name - you are?” He looks over his shoulder expectantly with bright eyes.

You only give your first name, rude in most situations. “This is Suki, my fami- companion.”

A scrawny white dog enters, claws clattering over the hardwood floors. Suki and the canine are civil, seeming to communicate in a language all their own. Mingyu checks the pie in the oven - how he arranged it so quickly is beyond you - before eyeing you curiously.

“Y/n, do you happen to be of magic blood? A witch?” He asks.

You heave a sigh, unable to hide the glare you shoot the animals on the floor. “How could you tell?”

“Well, Aji never behaves this nicely with non-magical beings, like Suki. You bowed to my altar and didn’t panic at the dishes cleaning themselves. Most mortals are at least a little amused by it, even nowadays.” He surmises.

Honestly, the dishes were such a regular thing in magical households you didn’t even realise it was happening. Wooden spoon, quick food, warm house - must be a Kitchenmaster.

“I am - well, used to be. My magic is a little…. compromised to say the least.”

He hums in acknowledgement. “Well, if we can rustle up some sort of payment, you’re more than welcome to stay here for as long as necessary. I run the B&B here, anyway. Just me.”

You smile, idly adjusting the table settings in front of you. “I - Mingyu, thank you. That is most gracious of you.”

“So, you look like you’re a little lost to say the least - very far from home?” As he flits about the kitchen, he chats with you over his shoulder.

You bow your head, engrossed in the dents and pot burns that litter the wooden table top. “Uh, yes, very.”

“Something happen?” Something quietly simmers and bubbles as he works on some root vegetables.

“Yes. I - magic. I suspect.” It’s hard to admit any more than that.

Saying more means admitting to your own fallacies. Right now, you are content to wallow in your misery; lick your wounds. Suki however, gives you a surly side eye from her place by the window with Aji. He twists to properly eye you. You know how disarming and unsettling your appearance is, so having someone examine so intently makes you want to curl up into a ball.

Mingyu looks at you, thoughtful. “Magic related. Was this curse by someone else or a backfire - self-inflicted?”

You sigh, long winded. “Both? The spell was quite old, so it may have had caveats I wasn’t aware of.”

“Hmmm. I have a friend. Potionsmaster, Class B. Family run apothecary. He might be able to help. Lee Seokmin.” Mingyu stoops against his fridge to write it out on a notepad magnetised to it - of course he has one of those. He rips it off and folds it neatly, handing it to you. “Give him a try tomorrow - see what he can do.”

As soon as he’s written that, it's the blink of an eye and dinner is served. Something that would have taken the average person half an hour, takes the Kitchenmaster mere minutes. Mingyu pretty much force feeds you a stew of sorts with plenty of vegetables and hot spices - to warm you, he says firmly, arms crossed - and a side of rice. The pie he claims is for tomorrow - it’s better the next day when it all settles and isn’t so viscous. Suki gets a little saucer with salmon, mushed to bits for her little teeth.

After a waddle - read, struggle - up to the attic, his smallest room and a fitful rest, you drag Suki out at the crack of dawn to make the long walk down to Lee Seokmin’s shop, the address tucked into the pocket of your own apron. Suki, disgruntled by the wake-up call, trots haughtily in front of you, weaving about and purposefully getting in your way. You pull up to a stop, fists on your hips. You can hardly see her through the head covering you had meticulously wrapped this morning in the mirror in the attic.

You glare down at Suki. “Hey now, be good. If Mingyu is right we might just get out of this just as soon as we got into it.” She gives you a glare with her green-gold eyes and you sigh, amending your words. “Fine, as soon as I got us into it. Sorry.” The mangy cat seems to roll her eyes at you, trotting ahead with a haughty tilt to her nose. Even in her state she’s as proud as ever.

The door jingles when you open it, the light from the street shining in. The wood is warm and despite the knowledge that a lot of potion supplies need to be cool and out of direct light, sunlight illuminates everything - how was this supposed to be a Class B Potionsmaster with a place like this? Herbs and dried ingredients sit in jars on top of tinted glass cabinets. Touching them you find them cool, yet not icy or condensated - must be magic.

A door to the side is open, even more sunlight streaming through a room much like a greenhouse. A cauldron softly bubbles and smokes, its fragrance neither sweet nor unpleasant but inherently herbal. A young man, tall with narrow features and a sunny smile pops up. He wears a canvas apron, stained wooden spoon in hand.

“Hello - welcome to Lee Apothecary! How can I help?”

He’s so warm and sweet! “Seokmin?”

He nods. “That’s me – Lee Seokmin, first of my name.”

“Mingyu sent me. Said you may be able to help.”

You heave a breath, shutting your eyes. You can’t even bear to see your hands as you uncover your face from the loose coverings. You can hear the soft inhale of shock. Suki jumps from a shelf to land next to you, warm against your leg.

“It’s a curse. Can you help me?”

Your age and disfigurement are too hideous to be natural. The wiry age in your grey hair, gnarled limbs and wrinkles. One eye is different from the other. Warts and missing teeth. Your hand is strangely shaped and you try your best not to hobble when you walk. It’s only now that you notice Suki’s appearance goes further than mange, her tail with a sad broken kink in it.

He walks around his counter to face you, his long fingers cradling your own as he examines you. Touches your palms and turns them as if they will reveal something to him, like an Augur. The Potionsmaster does the same to Suki, who is for once calm and pliant - the moggie never does as she’s told.

He sighs and shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. This is too heavy a curse for a simple potion to fix.” He squints at you. “But...you knew that already.”

“I was hoping otherwise.”

“Even if I could tell you, no potion would do this, or fix this. A spell does something like this - changes your aura. However, if you want, I can make a glamour mist and tonic to lessen the blow. Your familiar, however, is stuck as she is.”

Suki yowls broken, and you nudge her into silence. “Please, it’s been awfully hard as I am.”

It’s only been a few days, but it’s more than enough to be grateful for however you looked before this.

He turns away to pick out ingredients, weaving through the store and dropping them into his apron. “What did you look like before all of this anyway?” He says.

“Younger.” Is all you say, guarded.

He tells you he’ll be by Mingyu’s tonight to drop off the tonic along with some other supplies for Mingyu – free of charge. Somehow your disfigurement has lost your youth but gained luck. Or pity. They’re both the same at this rate. Mingyu is welcoming new guests when you come up the road. So as not to scare his clients, you gesture to the courtyard, a tall gate on the left. With his towering height, he sees all and merely nods in the slightest. As soon as the door is shut, you carefully walk the winding side path to the gate, the path all but hidden in his immaculate garden.

He opens the gate for you from the other side. “Wh-”

“I don’t want to scare anyone.” You murmur.

He tilts his head in sympathy, dressed in brown trousers and a lovely knitted cardigan. “You needn’t worry. They were just dropping off their luggage and have headed off to the beach. You are welcome here, trust me.”

You both walk through the bright courtyard back to the kitchen. This is Mingyu’s home turf, his safe space and is quickly growing to be yours. He instantly puts the kettle on and sets the two of you up for late morning tea.

“So, how did Seokmin go?”

“He’s coming by tonight to drop a tonic off. He couldn’t fix it, only ease it. I think I will need to do some research myself, once I’ve worked out how to take care of myself.”

You’ve never been on your own, the family house your only home. So, you meant it when you said taking care of yourself. Never having had to stay under a roof that wasn’t your own. As promised that evening, as the sun is just beginning to set and the lamplights are being lit, Seokmin is at Mingyu’s, dropping off his concoction of cleaning supplies. The two of them chat away animatedly in matching aprons. The tonic smells like roses and ginseng, in a spray bottle. You could pretend and mistake it for a perfume if you wanted to. The directions, to spray three times in the morning, in sunlight, facing east are labelled on the bottle. His eye falls on you idly stirring Mingyu’s soup with only a finger against the spoon handle.

“You look dead bored.” He says to you in passing.

“I am. Magic used to be a crutch for me. Part of my studies and my livelihood. Now I don’t have it…” you go quiet on that sombre thought. “Anyway! I’ll find something to amuse myself and my creaky bones.”

They both laugh weakly. You were getting used to the old and geriatric jokes that spilled off your tongue. Used far too often to lighten the mood and ground yourself.

Seokmin perks up though. “Well, if you’re ever in need of something to occupy yourself, I could always use a hand down at the shop. Someone to cover while I’m on errands.”

“Happy to help, Seokmin.” You say firmly.

You take Seokmin up on his offer, puttering around out the back of the apothecary, cutting and preparing ingredients as well as appropriately storing them. His parents have retired so Seokmin runs the place on his own. It’s sweet, seeing packages come in from them once in a while with limited, rare ingredients along with heartfelt messages reciting their recent grey nomad adventures. His own family has limited texts on spells, the whole family being Potionmasters, but it’s a start. A way to adapt the spray that he provides and eventually add on a tonic to improve your actual health. You can’t run a marathon, but you can go the full day on your feet now, without feeling like you’ll keel over by the end of lunch. Seokmin graciously provides you a small salary - exactly enough to keep your lodging with Mingyu. By day you work out the back of the apothecary, by night you pour over any magical text you can get your hands on to gather knowledge on how to reverse the curse you’ve brought upon yourself - truly showing your real age with a part time job and all.

Sat one mid-afternoon at the iron garden table, you catch the tears in Mingyu’s apron - fraying at his shoulder and the scorch mark that wore a hole in his pocket. You pout and groan as you rise, feeling your body creak as you reach to pull it off the hook in the wall.

“Mingyu, your apron.” You murmur.

He’s come in from the garden, wearing a soft sage green one, the pockets filled with herbs. He has gardening gloves on, dusted with dirt. The Kitchenmaster splutters and panics at the sight of you up and about but you wave him off with a huff.

“Please, I can mend this. Something small for your kindness.” You say.

He must see the desperation in your eyes because he nods, tugging off his gloves to toss on the garden bench by the back door. Mingyu guides you back inside to plonk you back at the dining table, round and thickly waxed.

“I think I have some old sewing bits in a cupboard. I’ll be back, okay?” He says, gently as always.

You nod, smiling. “Yes, please.”

As he dashes off, his large frame swallowing any space down the hallway, you clutch his cooking apron. There are food stains on the canvas, obviously an effort made to clean them away to no avail. Not to worry - you can fix that too.

A small biscuit tin popped open before you. The young man hovers wearily in front of you for a moment, in and out of the natural lighting as you scrounge through for thread and needle as well as something like a patch. It’s sweet how he gapes like a fish, squeaking a little and flapping his hands in the air. Very distracting though.

“I - are you sure you’re okay? I mean - if the joints in your hands, well -”

You level him with a look. “I'll be fine, thank you Mingyu. Give me the rest of the night at most and it will be done. Don’t go fussing and panicking just yet.”

He falls quiet and nods, waddling back out to the garden to finish up his chores. Suki sits outside on the wooden bench where shoes were usually shucked underneath, snoozing in the sun. If you were sure of one thing, other than your magic, it was sewing. All of your family had a mundane ability. Your mother was a wonderful gardener, your father a mechanic. Your grandmother was a hairdresser before she became a member of the high council. You took up sewing - something your mum was also adept at so could give you a head start. So mending Mingyu’s apron was a slice. By instinct, you add a sigil, a meld of cleanliness and resourcefulness. If only to help in repelling any more potential food stains and to better utilise the pocket. Sewn with an off-red thread, for luck. By the time the sun sets and Mingyu heads inside to make dinner, his apron hangs back on its hook, better than before. He gapes, rubbing his calloused thumbs over the new thread. The splash of colour seems to bring a bit more life into it.

Mingyu plunges his hands, then his elbows into the pockets of his apron, wonder rounding his lips. “They’re… endless!”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “I merely sewed some charms and sigils into the inner. They aren’t magic or anything special I assure you. Holds just as much as you need - in theory.”

“You fixed it so well. Thank you.” The Kitchenmaster says softly.

“Of course. You’re welcome.” You shrug. “The least I could do. Now, what’s on the menu?”

Over time, between helping Mingyu and helping Seokmin, you would sew. Cloaks for Mingyu and his wizarding friends, sigils stitched inside to keep them warm and to not lose them. Resistance to wear and tear, to give luck. They were richly designed and soon others, magic or mortal, were taking notice, asking for hats or coats. They would pay handsomely too for their commission. Women who wanted bonnets and sunhats and men who wished for suit jackets and mending their jaunty hats. You would measure exactly to size and chat as you did so, posted up in Mingyu’s kitchen by day and your attic room by night. The attic now has bolts on bolts of fabric leant against the wall and sewing scissors constantly on your person. The research has taken a bit of a back seat, actually.

“So, this is awfully pretty. For any reason in particular?”

The young woman hums and gazes out the window to the courtyard, bright and peaceful. Her clear skin glows and her petite lips curl in a shy cherry smile. Minji is her name and this is the second time she has come to see you, the first time for some basic mending on a lingerie dress for a summer outing.

“I’m going on an outing with a very kind young gentleman - Hyungjin. His father works at the radio company, you see. He’s asked me out for a picnic - just us. Or, as just us as it can be with my sister chaperoning. I want to look my best.”

You smile. “And what do you consider to be your best? Imagine how you want to be seen - what you want him to think when he sees you.”

“Pretty. Oh, maybe a little taller? I just want him to think that there is no one else like me.”

“That makes sense. Remind me, when was the deadline for this hat?”

She looks at you, a little startled. “Oh! Three weeks from Wednesday - the outing is on Thursday.”

You nod, pulling away to a calendar in the hallway draw to mark the date. Suki follows in your shadow, eyes speaking volumes of curiosity. “So I don’t forget. This is a big commission, Suki.” You murmur down to her.

You pull over a sketch as you sit back next to her. Measurements down the left. A large floppy straw hat with sakura pink ribbon around the base and fluttering down to tie to her chin. A floral pin to the right, twined with many small flowers like a bouquet. The sketch shows how the inside will most likely be felted, to prevent the straw from snagging in her dark silky curls. Minji’s eyes light up as she coos and sings. Her slender hands clasp against her chest as she sways on the spot, ever the romantic.

“Oh it’s perfect. Delightfully summery. If we could have the brim a touch thinner and the band a quarter of an inch thicker, that would be divine.”

You grasp the pencil oddly in your gnarled grasp, roughly drawing the modified lines. This has her singing again, humming and clapping in agreement. She is only one of two commissions - the other being an optional winter cloak for Soonyoung, a vivacious Spellmaster that specialises in ritual dance. He was going up to the mountains for the next month and needed something a little sturdier than whatever he wore down in Martine. He’d even had the mind to pre-buy the material he wanted and bring it to you!

Mingyu lets you work in his kitchen for almost a month, one danish tin filled to the brim with sewing supplies and another biscuit tin on a shelf in the hall keeping your payments safe for board. He disappears out the back for long periods of time, banging about on the other side of the kitchen wall. He comes back sweaty and dusty, waving off your curiosity with a giggle. He would even shoo Suki out from around the corner.

“I promise I’ll tell you about it as soon as it’s done.” Is all he says one evening.

So, when he finally announces his work complete, you’re embarrassingly eager. The Kitchenmaster tugs you standing and holds your gnarled hands, guiding you up and around the back, down a path you’d never thought to wander to. Maybe he had cleaned this up too, recently.

He leads you around the back of the house to a little building, seemingly tacked on the end as an afterthought. Somehow, you realise, you’ve never thought to look this way, even out of curiosity. The bricks were the same but the wood for the window frames weren’t. The door frame was different again in material and shape compared to the rest of the house. Pulling out an old skeleton key, Mingyu opens the peeling forest green door to a dusty room, odds and ends everywhere. The room is dark and a little musty. Dust floats free in the air. He’s quick to open curtains and windows to air out the sizable room.

“This used to be my uncle’s office - he used to be some kind of intellectual. The garden was planted for his studies, actually. But when I moved in, I never needed an office, so it kind of just became the storage room. But, now that people are asking for your sewing and tailoring skills more frequently, you need more than just the dining table or even the attic. I can of course help clean up, but I thought, maybe? You could set up here? I mean, the desk is big enough to do something with, right?”

His warm eyes are hopeful as he stands by a desk, hands fiddling with the pocket of his apron. Suki surveys the space, sniffing at boxes and furniture. Finally, she settles herself atop whatever was on the window seat. Her yellow eyes glare at you expectantly. Certainly not taking no for an answer.

“I mean, this has way more natural light and saves people from walking through the boarding house all the time? O-Only if you want to? Take up tailoring properly?” Mingyu babbles on.

You take it in, slack-jawed. “Mingyu...you...you found a room, just for me?”

You’re afraid to speak any louder than a whisper, unable to trust your voice. You rest your hand on the heavy wood of the desk, surely a generation old, by the carved designs alone. Suki is inspecting every corner, her twisted whiskers getting in everything and catching cobwebs. Mingyu starts to go a little red, chuckling with a shrug.

“Well, yeah. Can’t have you working on the kitchen table forever, can we? And I want you to feel comfortable here, for as long as you need to be.” He smiles.

You bite your chapped lips to stem the gurgled breath - your eyes prickle. You squeeze his large hand with your knobbly one, weak but meaningful.

You smile. “Mingyu, this is a lovely idea. How much extra would you like me to pay?”

He pauses to stare at you, as if you’ve grown a third eye. You flinch at the expression, uncomfortable with it in your current state. Mingyu softens his expression, shaking his head.

“Extra? No, I don’t use this room and you need it. No extra charge. It’s a win-win for the both of us. Please.”

You relax and nod, smiling tentatively. “All right then. If you insist. Thank you Mingyu.”

Mingyu tinkers away for a few days after. As do you, the both of you working on opening up the back room some more. Dusting and wiping down surfaces, packaging anything up that needed to be out the way. Mingyu carves sigils into cupboard doors, jamming more and more things into them than usually possible. You stare curiously at the lone sewing set you had been working with, sat awfully small on the desk – still out of a biscuit tin. You take in the rest of the room – empty window seat, desperate for cushions, plenty of empty shelves for whatever you desired. Fabrics and sewing supplies. Maybe a dress form and some hat bases. If you really dared in the far future, maybe a sewing machine.

It’s at the end of the week that Mingyu reveals his final work for you. Signs. Two – one to hang above your study door, the other to hang by the back gate of the bed & breakfast, facing the street. Martine Fashion and Millinery. You gasp, running your fingers over the painted and sealed wood.

“Mingyu, really?” You murmur.

He beams. “Well, if you’re going to be working here, your business needs a name. And customers need to be able to find you. Really, it was no trouble.”

He stoops to pick up and push a small lacquered chest across the table at you. You let out a wet gasp, hands trembling as you reached out, fearful to do so.

“Now, now before you panic, this came out of your board for the month, so this isn’t so much of a gift as it is an investment. And it’s just a basic one. You can add to it when and however you choose. But the biscuit tin was a little meagre at this point.” He explains.

You shake your head. “I don’t know what to say. I-I don’t understand. Mingyu, I’m just some lady you met and took in. There is no need to go to these lengths.”

He shrugs and smiles again. “Like I said, this is all just an investment for me. I know this will pay off, for the both of us.”

You nod and promise to yourself that you intend to make every moment of this work count. If not for yourself, for Mingyu and all his hard work.

So Minji’s commission plans get moved into the back room as does the calendar from the hallway. And the next morning, as soon as the sun kissed the horizon, you waddled through town to pick up supplies. Speaking of Minji, she’s just as delighted as you are at the new space, swaying and bouncing on her toes and clapping in joy in the doorway.

“Oh, look! It’s wonderful! Your own space! You’ll be flooded with work in no time.” She gushes.

You smile warmly. Suki isn’t even perturbed by her noise.

“I hope so. Here, this is yours.” You guide her to a hat sat on a back shelf where dry specimen jars were but days ago.

You turn to present it to her and watch with shock as her bright eyes go glassy. She holds her delicate hands to her little mouth. She glances between you and the sun hat, made to her specifications, almost as if you’d pulled it straight from the original plans.

“This - this is for me?” She squeaks.

You nod. “Of course. Exactly as you asked. Would you like to-”

She whipped her hat pin out and wrenched her current hat off, slipping the new sun hat on. In that moment, you had to tip your head up a little to see her as before. There is a little mirror nailed to a wall and Minji twists and turns to examine it and herself.

“I’m…it’s beautiful. Oh, Y/N, you’ve done a magnificent job.” She says softly.

“I hope so. Hyungjin can’t possibly resist you now.” You add.

You’re startled suddenly as she throws her arms around you, her soft floral scent enveloping you. She squeezes tight for such a petite girl, swaying you a little.

“I can’t thank you enough. Truly.”

She pulls back, radiant and pops it into the waiting hat box. She takes a moment to secure her current hat back in place with her glittering pearl hat pin and cradles the box close.

“I don’t care what happens tomorrow. I know it will go swimmingly. I’m telling all my friends about you. I want you positively swamped with work if it’s all going to be just as good as this.” She says, resolute, before whirling out with a spring in her step.

Minji quickly rushes back, swinging into the doorway. “I will have my father send payment to you by the end of the day. You’re getting paid handsomely for this, I assure you. A mere one hundred is not enough.”

You open your mouth to protest the agreed price but she’s already gone, past your window and away.

In the days after, a young man walks into the study, angelic and handsome. As if he walks on air and pretty eyes almost hidden behind a lemon blonde fringe. There is a sleepy yet sweet turn to his lips as he waltzes into the study, a bundle of fabric in his arms. However, as soon as he lays his eyes on you, his face twists unpleasantly.

“Oh dear. That is quite the curse you have.” He hums, letting the door shut behind him.

You deflate, leaning wearily against the desk. Of course, it has to be a wizard - a Spellmaster no doubt from the way he looks you over.

You heave a sigh. “How can I help?”

“Well, I heard there was an exceptional seamstress in town and I just had to see them. My cloak is in tatters after my last assignment - small chimney dragon. Mingyu sent me.”

You perk up. “You know Mingyu?”

“Certainly.” They smile. “I’m Yoon Jeonghan, first of my name, Class A Spellmaster - best in Martine.”

No wonder they could see through Seokmin’s glamour. You hold out your hands as he gives you the dusty pink and sky-blue cloak. It’s shredded and singed, limp in your grasp the way a wizard’s cloak never should be. Most cloaks of magic users had some sort of life or vibrancy to them. Their energy would zing over your skin, leaving you alive and sensitive. You lay it out over the heavy desk to make out the top and tail. He peers over it like a worried parent.

“So, can you fix it?”

You shoot him a scowl. “If you gave me some space and light, maybe.”

He ducks his head and steps back. “Right. Sorry. I just - my mother and grandmother made it for me. They’re my family colours.”

Something jabs right underneath your rib cage - an uppercut of feelings. Now you really can’t turn it down - not that you would, you need the money.

“I see. Well, come back in a few days and I’ll see how I go. I - you’re my first proper, official customer. With the sign and all.” You confess.

Jeonghan straightens up. “Well, that is an honour. Please, let me know how you go - good day.”

The way he eyes you, you’re not sure what he’s referring to. But still, you pass a vague wave and hunch over the garment. When he leaves it’s with a little less bravado as before, his airy gait is a little more grounded - vulnerable. But Suki is absolutely enamoured with him, watching him with intent from the window.

“Suki leave him alone and come here, I need you to hold this.” You call, brisk.

She reluctantly turns and leaps up, sitting exactly where you need her as you unfurl it all and get to work on the spare space of the buffet. Your pencils and tailors’ chalk come out as you sketch plans and designs. You frown over your shoulder as you eye it again. This was not going to be some small feat, that’s for sure. By the end of the day, you have a semblance of a plan drawn up, especially after you realise that the tatters are worse than first feared. It’s as if a bear has torn into it then a flood of moths had a feast. That small chimney dragon certainly did a number on this. Too many holes to just sew back together and call it a day. He’s going to need a whole new cloak. So, you add new fabric to the list of shopping supplies. And then note that you’ll need to design something asap - befitting of the willowy wizard.

It takes until the end of the week to have the design drawn up and fabric brought and cut to size. At least the hood and collar are still intact, so the measurements from that are used. Mingyu approves of the new design heartily, mindful of spilling goulash on the plans.

“Oh, that’s just perfect. His family isn’t from around here, so he’ll be waiting for a new one from them forever otherwise. Jeonghan is going to love it.”

You work furiously with it, alongside three other garments for Minji’s friends – as she had promised, a steady stream of pretty socialites had come in with grand commissions, all with varying deadlines and needs. Jeonghan pops in once or twice as well, still appearing full of confidence, yet a little bare now you knew he was missing something. He didn’t quite look whole. You shooed him out every time, with the promise it would be done soon.

“Do bear in mind that this is going to cost you a pretty penny. You gave me some shreds of a cloak and expected me to work magic on it – of which I cannot.” You huff one day.

He shrugs blithely, lemon yellow hair shining in the sun. “If Mingyu and the others trust you, so do I.”

Then, he has the nerve to better eye you. “Hmm - cursed?”

You draw up short and glare at him. “How dare – yes. Why?”

Jeonghan shakes his head. “Who would curse you?”

“It’s none of your business!” Your grip is fisted in the fabric of his cloak, ready to slam it down and kick him out.

He slides his sight to Suki, looking at him as if he hung the moon and stars in the sky for her. He giggles and slants his head down at her.

“And with a familiar? So, you were a witch? A cursed witch with no magic. Hmm.” He ponders like a detective.

“Out with you.” You say through clenched teeth. “It’s not ready yet.”

The blonde draws back and tips his head as he backs out of the study. His shadow draws long over the floorboards.

“Of course. I will see you next week.” Jeonghan says softly. At least he has a bit of tact, you think as you heave a steadying breath.

When the assigned day arrives, Jeonghan is dramatic, splaying his body across your counter and disturbing your garments. Despite your irritation at the disruption, you smirk – your anger over the other day has dissipated. The secret is out, no use in holding anything over it.

"You roll wrong on that Spellmaster, and you'll become a pin cushion."

He sits up swiftly to attention, shooting you a pout. "Right. So, is it ready yet?"

You nod, opening the small cupboard above your head to pull down a folded garment, delicate and fine. You tuck some of the other pieces aside, folding them to hold their designs. The window streams in sunlight that catches on the metal of the pins.

"Now, like I said, I can’t work magic and that cloak you gave me just could not be salvaged." Jeonghan deflates at your news. "However, I hope you don't mind, but I did take the liberty of designing and making a brand new one, based on the old pattern and colour scheme, and with Mingyu’s approval. With some added practicalities."

You shake it out, holding it up, inside facing. It looked a bit like the old diamond design but stylistically fragmented, like falling confetti. You used most of the old cloak, in fact, splicing it over the new sky-blue fabric you’d brought. You added a hood lining. Thin gold trim along the entire edges and a pocket or two as well. What catches his eye though is the talismans and charms stitched into the pattern. Ones for protection and added strength to the material. Ones for luck and a weave of beauty charms along the bottom hem, as functional as it was decorative. He smiles blindingly, taking it from your grasp. The fabric is thicker than before but still breathable and good for varied types of weather. He holds the cloak to the window, inspecting it with awe rounding his petal-like lips.

“I - It’s beautiful.” He looks at you. “I’m glad you fixed this so well. I don’t know what I would have done if you had done any less.”

You’re a little overwhelmed with the compliments but shrug to take them, turning away and somehow trying to hide. But Jeonghan’s gaze isn't something you can hide from - he’s too talented and observant not to see. Every wrinkle and atom of your disfigurement. It suits his fair hair and skin, somehow more ethereal than before. Only now do you notice how discreet his wand holster is, tied under his shirt by his waist, only the wind giving it away. He steps in long paces into your personal space.

"And you used your magic as well! I thought you said you lost it along with the curse?" He blinks at you owlishly as he slides it over his solid shoulders - nothing like Mingyu's but still attractive. You frown.

"I have. Sigils aren't magic per se. Regular mortals can invoke them." You mutter, shifting your face deeper into your swath of fabrics.

Ever since Jeonghan arrived and re-exposed your curse, you'd taken to wearing your well-covering garments, if only for peace of mind. Not to mention the fact he was absolutely gorgeous so who would want to be seen next to him in your condition?

"Still. These ones have power to them. I bet they've never failed." He replies in a hushed tone, running his fingers over the silvery white thread stitching it all together.

You stay silent as he caresses the fabrics again, his posture changing back into something haughty - just the same way as you had first met him. His dark eyes brim with sincerity though, a warm lopsided smile there too.

“No, really. I am indebted to you - this cloak is one of the most important things I own. Please, will you let me help you find a cure for your curse? I insist.” Jeonghan has to dip his head quite far to eye you with your lopsided hunch.

You wave him off with a scoff. “Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine. Just please ensure that I am paid for my work. It’s going to be a little bit more expensive than you probably expected, including labour and materials.”

You’re lying. Obviously. Your trip to Seokmin was enough proof of that. Your room in the attic was back to being littered with research texts from Seokmin and any of Mingyu’s other friends who you raided. It had even escaped down here, cluttered in the corner of a shelf behind you. For those moments when your fingers could not take a moment more with a needle.

“Of course - name your price! But please, I insist. I am a Class A Spellmaster - the best wizard I know, if I do say so myself. If I cannot find a cure, then I will leave you be.” He casts a glance at Suki. “But I'm sure neither you, nor your familiar, want to stay in these forms for very much longer.”

You grumble and gristle under your breath but concede - it couldn’t hurt to have another pair of eyes, not to mention the expertise. You knew you were just as smart as him, once upon a time.

“Tsk, if we can help it. I suppose another perspective isn’t the worst thing. Thank you, Jeonghan.” You straighten up a bit. “But, just for the record, I do know far better casters than you.”

He shows up bright and early the next morning, a satchel slung by his hip and a pile of books tucked amongst his arms. His lemony hair is in his eyes, from the wind. His cloak looks good on him still, settled with airy pride on his shoulders as it drifts about his calves. You splutter and scoff with disbelief from your new place in the study. You didn’t expect him to start so soon.

“I - good morning?” You grouse.

His back is straight as he plonks it all down on the buffet. “Hello, study buddy.”

“Hmm, speaking of that...where will you be studying? I have the desk?”

Jeonghan really makes himself at home, politely shucking his shoes off by the doorway to show white redarned socks with sky blue patches over his big toe sewn with swamp green thread. He hangs his cloak up on the prescribed hooks by the door, the curling bronze dulled with age. Somehow, he finds a stool and tugs that over. How he looks so at home with his pastel attire startles you. Suki, as usual, is no help at all, no matter how much you nag her - “this is for our board payment, you know. Keep a roof over our head? Useless cat.”

He pulls out his ink and quill and arranges himself neatly, a notebook rested against his thigh. A pair of thin gold rimmed glasses come out and gingerly perch on the bridge of his nose.

“So, how far have you gotten with your research? I assume you’ve done some?” He stares at you expectantly over his spectacles and you can’t help but screw your face up - he looks like some kind of fluffy gossip column reporter, even the way he crosses his legs in such a conversational fashion.

“Jeonghan, all my notes are in the attic. I don’t really have the time to trudge all the way up there at the moment - I have three deadlines to meet to make board for next month.”

He waves you off. “Oh, that’s fine. Just talk to me and I’ll listen - get what I can. Then maybe tonight I can borrow your papers and we’ll see what we come up with. I give it no more than a week and I'll have some answers for you.”

Ugh, arrogant.

It’s been a few months and business is booming. You work late hours most days and often carry some sort of garment with you to Seokmin’s when he is out on house calls and needs someone to watch the apothecary for a delivery. With you around he can even afford to do house calls now, something unheard of before, seeing as he was the only one at the shop. Suki doesn’t like those days much, moving about, so she stays in the study, the window opened a crack to let herself in and out as she pleases. Meanwhile, you enjoy working on commissions in the bright, warm conservatory attached to Seokmin’s apothecary. You make board and more, having the profits to purchase hat stands and so on, as well as squirrel away a portion into the former Danish tin for…well you weren’t sure what. But it felt responsible to have a bit aside for whatever emergency may befall you. Maybe injury? You were old.

Jeonghan has become a steady fixture in the study, between his own jobs. His cloak has been mended plenty of times since. His own corner while you take commission appointments at the main desk, his shoes staying on then. The Spellmaster even has the ingenuity to draw up a hefty glamour spell, with your expertise. You preen a little at his surprise at your knowledge – before all this you were studying to be an apprentice Spellmaster for the High Council your grandmother is on, so you needed to be a vessel of knowledge for anything. The glamour spell helps you ease the fear of leaving the study to retrieve any of your purchases from the post office, or even being seen by him. He brings lunch from the kitchen yet is fairly quiet, other than bouncing the odd theory about. It’s refreshing from his dramatics initially.

Jeonghan rushes into the study one afternoon, face flushed but eyes a light. He’s waving a scrap of paper in his hand, a massive book tucked under his arm. He had told you the evening before across Mingyu’s round, wobbly kitchen table that he would be working from his place - he had Spellmaster duties to attend to after all. He acted as if you thought he was the centre of the universe.

You scowl at him, a little irritated at the interruption. “Hmm?”

“Y/N! I’ve - I’ve got something!”

You look at him, nose screwed up. You roll your free hand at him, as if to continue. He rushes to sit on the edge of the desk yowling when a stray pin pricks his thigh.

“About your curse! It’s self-inflicted!” He says quietly, full of pride.

Your face turns even more and your voice drops deadly low. Everything goes still. “I beg your pardon.”

He wilts at your tone of voice. Deathly calm yet uneven to tread. Your glare is both old and young, a fury for any age. He turns out the tome he held, fabric hardcover soft and faded on the corners from age. He points to a passage that threw your entire life back in your face.

Self-inflicted curse caused by a power recoil, usually due to using a spell too advanced for one’s own capabilities. This can affect the caster’s relative surroundings in any fashion from explosions and fire to time displacement. The cure is unknown and inconclusive, suspected to be only found by the caster themselves. A caster’s Familiar, should they have one, is greatly affected by this curse, as they are linked.

“It’s…the effects are the same.” He says carefully. “This is why you had so many sources on self-induced effects. You knew.”

It’s a slap in the face having your own suspicions said back to you. You didn’t truly want to admit out loud this was all your fault to anyone else except Suki. Nor did you want anyone else finding out your own monumental mistakes.

“With an unknown cure, Jeonghan!” You cry out, louder than you intended, but you meant it. “I can be stuck like this forever - or however long that is in my state. And all I know is that it’s my own fault! Which, from everything so far, was kind of obvious!”

You rise up and snap the book shut, narrowly missing his nimble fingers. You haven’t been this enraged in a long time. Before the curse. You shove it back in his direction.

“Get out. Get out!” You yell, shooing him out of the room like vermin.

Suki is rumpled and skitters around your feet, sending herself out with him. Traitor. You slam the door in his fearful face and bow forward, resting both palms on the wood.

Of course, it was your fault. You’re the one with the arrogance to try and cast the memory spell when your father had explicitly told you not to. It was old and full of components you thought you understood – you were studying this specific vein of magic, of course you should know by now. You could do everything else, why was this the spell that would hold you back? Once it had been cast, your memory would be able to hold almost infinite information. It was easier than binding a caster’s magic. Your own hubris led you to cast it in the sloping backyard of the family house. In the dead of the night with everyone away at a Council convention. You had felt it fly out of control, like a garden hose pressure sending it spinning and water flying. Your shout of shock and Suki’s yowls the last things you heard. Then the home that had been in your family for generations was up in flames, the frame hanging together by the thread. The force of it all sent you careening into your mother’s prized rose bushes. When you came to, this is who you were. So, you ran.

So yes, you’d known deep down for a long time where it came from. But hearing there was no cure? Well then, what was the point?

You work in a guilt and anger fuelled fever the rest of the day and only until the oil in your lamps had dwindled did you toss it in for the time being, dragging your feet around into the house. There was a serving of dinner set aside, still magically warm to the touch, but the rest of the place was dark and quiet.

Jeonghan waits a few days before he returns, devoid of supplies for once. You suppose now that he had worked out the crux of the curse, that that was it. Mission accomplished. You’re working on a suit for Eugene who owned the post office. He’s planning on surprising his wife for their anniversary and wanted to look as good as feasibly possible. Guilt has been eating at you like nothing else, but you were too prideful and busy to find him. His hands are tucked underneath his cloak, behind his back. You fold the suit away quickly.

“I’m sorry.” You say quickly, softly before he can get any thought in conversation.

He looks up, brow creased beneath his fringe. “Sorry?”

“For snapping at you. And not telling you everything about the curse. I let you go on a wild goose chase and didn’t stop you at all.”

Jeonghan sighs and smirks wryly. “Thank you. But I’m sorry as well. I was a little insensitive when I brought it up. Of course there is guilt to things like this. But, now that we know where this stems from, we can start working on how to reverse it.”

You can’t help it. In shock, you laugh, bowed against the desk. You laugh so hard, you must cover your eyes, tears seeping out with the force. Suki is at attention, ears folded back at the sharp noise.

“You still want to help me. Even though we may never find a cure?”

He nods and straightens up smartly. “Even if we don’t find one, we’re all still here for you. So, are you in?”

“Sure.”

He backs up from his place in the doorway. He hasn’t even taken off his shoes yet, like usual. “That’s great, since I left all my supplies in the kitchen, in case you said no. We’ve got a lot of work to do. But, imagine it - my life’s work, breaking the unbreakable curse. Yoon Jeonghan, legendary Spellmaster.”

You scoff loudly and turn away from him to let him bask in his imagination before retreating to get his things. Goodness, he was ridiculous. The most arrogant Spellmaster in Martine, surely.

Not even a week later, Mingyu peers in, a little frazzled. “I - are you very busy?”

Jeonghan is at his usual perch, swiftly sitting upright. You’re intently over another filmy garment - with summer breathing down your neck, a lot of commissions were being used with thinner fabrics, looser to let that salty sea breeze through.

“No more than usual. Do we have an urgent client?” You ask.

“Sort of. I’ll bring her round.”

Moments later, Mingyu is trailed by a young woman with inky black hair piled in a typical Gibson bun from the way her hair sits off her neck and forehead. She wilts in a large sunhat and pastel pink dress with a touch too many frills to be tasteful. There is a basket on her arm.

Mingyu ushers the young woman in. “Hi, Y/N. This is Park Haeun, third of her name. She’s holidaying for the summer. From Aria. I suggested she come round to get one of her dresses fixed?”

She’s petite and full of soft shapes - except her eyes. Despite how wide they were, her eyeliner is sharp and narrow. She’s the epitome of an Aria summer - all muslin fabrics and warm rolling hills. In her arms is the basket, and in quite a rough fashion she pushes it onto your workspace, disrupting some of your other commissions. Her little round lips are pursed in a pout. Jeonghan busies himself with Suki by the window, teasing her a little and scratching at her chin. He usually does this with any of your consultations, some false air of privacy.

“Oh! I - Madam Y/N!” You bristle at the title but understand - the glamour does show some age. “I met Master Mingyu’s current lodgers on the train when the most disastrous thing happened! One of my favourite dresses was caught in a trunk and ripped. Master Mingyu says you are a dream with a needle and thread! Is there any way to salvage it?”

You tie off your thread and carefully (yet hastily) fold the combination undergarment away into the cupboard you have commandeered from Mingyu. Wading over, you pull the dress out, shaking it straight. The hem of the dress has torn a good inch or three, leaving it frayed and disrupting the overall image of airiness. It was right at the front. Not an easy feat.

“The fabric is awfully thin. I mean, with the price of fabrics here, I would just recommend a little mending and sew a whole new layer over top, if you’re that attached to it.” You mutter.

She withers a little. “Oh. I was really hoping something could be done. It was a gift from my father.”

You clench your teeth. Sentimental stuff always gets to you - Jeonghan’s cloak was enough evidence to that. Laying it out, you better inspect the garment, comparing the tear, then the rest of the stitching. If you did it close enough with two strands rather than six like usual…

“Leave it with me for the week. I’ll see what I can do.”

She beams and you blink from the haze of her image. “Oh, wonderful! Thank you so much Madam Y/N.”

Haeun reaches out to shake your hand vigorously and draws back a little as she comes closer. Her joy morphs to concern and you can feel her eyes seem to go through you.

“Are you well, Madam Y/N? You look awfully...ailed.”

You draw back as well, tucking your hand into yourself and drawing your attention to Mingyu. “I... well, I’ve had a bit of a tough time. Mingyu, when is lunch?”

He blinks at you. “I - very soon. I’ll back around when it’s ready? Bye, Y/N.”

At least he gets the picture of dismissal. Haeun looks guilty enough for you as she dips her head in farewell. Only now you realise that she’s still wearing her hat. Inside.

“Thank you so much again, Y/N. Goodbye.”

They both exit and you can see her give a lingering look to Jeonghan, who she hasn’t had a chance to speak with at all. He smiles small and polite, eyes sliding to yours widened in alarm. The moment their feet hit the brick pathway, he steps over for you to catch his forearm.

“She saw through the glamour. All of it. How did she see through my glamour? We made it ourselves." You hiss in panic.

“What do you mean?”

“She couldn’t look me in the eye - barely looked at me at all. Asked if I was ailing. I’m supposed to look old, not haggard!”

He shrugs. “She may just have The Sight. No need to worry.”

You scowl and twist away to eye the garment darkly. You had to fix this pretty thing now. If only to be rid of her chipper disposition.

You tinker away at it, your assumptions right when it comes to mending it. You were glad that the waist was well gathered, so the movement mostly hid anything possibly unsavoury - which none of it was. With such a straightforward fix, you had no reason to sew in any charms. In those two days, Haeun was exploring the town, often running into any of the wizards you knew. Mingyu invited her over for dinner the night you expected her back for her dress. Jeonghan chatted with her at length about Aria, something you wouldn’t have expected of him - he was usually so private. Your chest would have a sharp icepick driving through you the more he opened up to her. It had you turning your nose up at him and giving him the silent treatment under the guise of commission work. Small wins, you suppose.

When she shows up in your workroom again, Jeonghan is on her tail, smiling brightly. It makes your stomach churn and you can’t work out for the life of you why. She may not be the most tactful person, but she was pleasant enough. There was nothing to be worried about, no matter how much your gut may think so. Mingyu was trying to get you and Suki to eat. Haeun’s dress, once you’d set up for it, was an easy job, finished in a matter of hours, so you were back to your more demanding garments. Minji’s new hat - yes, another, the girl had an addiction, you swear - is half done, glaring at you from the mannequin head standing on the desk. The ribbon looks limp as it seemed to reach out for you.

“Madam Y/N! How does my dress go?”

You duck into the side room, formerly what you assumed to be some sort of library or dark room before it was cleaned out and a window busted through. Hanging in the sun is the dress. She gasps on sight, rushing over to grab at the hem. Gently ruffling and tugging the skirt, Haeun deems it worthy. She scoops it from your arms, folding it hastily back into her basket. If that was how it was packed in the first place, no wonder it caught a snag – no respect.

“Thank you so much! It looks like it never happened at all. How much?”

You shrug. “Only $60.”

She looks at you from the side of her lashes but passes over the money for you to slip into the Danish tin in a drawer of the desk. Patting the lid of her basket, she beams back over at Jeonghan.

“You were right when you said she was the best seamstress you’d ever met in the world.”

“Are there no seamstresses in Aria?” You can’t help but ask.

She shrugs. “Yes, of course, but none of them would have said yes to this job.”

Oh. So it was like that then - the impossible job.

You’re still smarting over her comment when they sweep out in the same breezy fashion that they arrived and you get back to your work, ignoring the beseeching gaze of Jeonghan through the study window. You were tempted to pack some of his studies away for room, but at the heart of it all, you didn’t have a venom in you to do so - there was plenty of room elsewhere for your spread out. He was only trying to help, after all. And Haeun did pay as requested. Other than a foul mood there was nothing to negate or argue.

You are surprised though when Jeonghan reappears not an hour later. Your ears are attuned to the sound of his sensible boots over the pathway, even through a catching giggle of Haeun’s that carries from what must be the kitchen or courtyard.

“Jeonghan, is dinner ready so soon? It’s not even dark.” You comment, pausing to lean on the desk.

He shakes his head. “No, not yet. Mingyu is waiting for the others to arrive first before he even thinks about touching a spice or spoon.” You huff a laugh through your nose but he continues. “I was actually checking on you. Haeun’s words didn’t sit well with you and I wanted to settle her before I saw you.”

Again, you laugh at his turn of phrase - he treats her like a child to be coddled. Knows you too well not to make his words a statement. You nod.

“You are correct. I didn’t like her comment about the Aria seamstresses. I can’t pin down just one thing, but it’s enough to annoy and insult, Jeonghan.” You say as evenly as you can. It’s not his fault.

He hums and comes closer to lay a hand over your own gnarled knuckles. It still takes everything you have not to withdraw. His dark eyes are warm and the turn of his mouth sympathetic.

“Ah, I know. She is from Aria and they tend to be like that, you know? Bad at filtering their thoughts with a serve of perceived imperious. I should know, I’m from Aria, too.”

Your brows shoot up into your hairline, even as it comes together in your mind. Oh, of course! Jeonghan’s accent was a dead giveaway to his upbringing. Through his soft, slightly raspy voice the faint accent of those from Aria was present. Even in the way he dressed, simple but clean, unlike Seokmin and Mingyu who both looked more ready for a day farming and other labour in earth tones and natural woven fibre such as linen. So, he had that air of superiority about him you liked to pop so often. How had you not noticed it before? It was nice, as much as you hated to admit it, to work with someone a bit more well-travelled like yourself. Soonyoung was an exception seeing as his magical talent was so rare and sought after, he travelled often. But Jeonghan had grown up in another country. There were different customs and meanings for social etiquette and various objects. It meant more knowledge which you had always selfishly strived for.

“I see. That makes sense.” You say carefully.

He nods again, eyes shut sagely. “Hmm. Would you like to come inside now? Have a cup of tea before we send Haeun on her way?”

He squeezes your hand gently and you pull away from your work, letting him lead you out. Suki meows and takes the window exit instead as you grab the key and lock the door.

Famous last words. Somehow, you’d both forgotten she was here in Martine on holiday, so whether you liked it or not, she was sticking around for a little while longer. A few days later showing up at Seokmin’s for a chat and to arrange a lunch by the sea for those who could join - you were instantly withdrawn from this event as you had jobs to do and a trip to the post office for Eugene.

Then, a day or so later after that, another feature at Mingyu’s place to see off his lodgers and stick her nose in your business. An empty babble about how hard working you were and a slight kickback about your age again. You bite your tongue at how the cluster of wizards humour her, like babysitting a child. Even Jeonghan gets in on it sometimes, your research on the back burner for his own jobs and Haeun.

Seokmin is walking you back to the boarding house, his arms full of fabrics ordered from the post office. The sun is almost set, gas lamps lit and casting everything in a dim, warm glow. But your hackles raise when you feel the rush of whispers through the air. For once though, they don’t seem to have begun because of you - in fact, barely anyone is looking. It’s the women of the boutiques and the populace donned in cloaks that huddle close and murmur, something akin to a buzzing hive. Pointed hats up and down the street, tilted together in hushed tones. Distress weaving them together. You glance at the Potionsmaster and he guides you to a pair of young men. Joshua and Soonyoung - you’re getting quite close to them as they drop into Seokmin’s store, asking for this and that or into Mingyu’s for Sunday night dinner. Soonyoung loved his cloak, toasty and functional up in the mountains for the solstice. They’re kind enough not to speak of your condition and they chat with you almost as easily as they do Seok.

“What’s going on?” Seokmin chirps, hands tucked into the pocket of his canvas apron - he’s resting your fabrics on the park bench the group managed to grab.

Soonyoung turns to him. “Where have you been? Have you not heard?”

You look between them all and shake your head. “What is it? Why are all the Casters out tonight?”

Joshua pulls out a limp and crumpled newspaper from his cloak. It’s folded back to a page in the middle. Wizards Flee Aria En Mass. He puts it away before you get a chance to read much else.

“The King of Aria has put a bounty out on a wizard who entertained the court for slighting the princess. Every wizard in Aria is being called for questioning - word is it’s more like torture. Soon, Aria will be devoid of magic users all together if this is how they treat us.” Joshua summarises quietly with a shake of his head and soft tut between his lips. “I thought it was bad before, when the royal family called wizards extortionists of the court.”

“I don’t know how much of a heart she has, honestly.” Soonyoung grumbles. “Enacted a ritual for them for the summer solstice once. She had the nerve to call it barbaric.”

Seokmin gently kicks his leg in silent scolding but doesn’t disagree. Nor do you. You can’t help but think of that throwaway comment of Jeonghan’s after hassling you one day in the office, feet kicked up on the desk. Then again, when Haeun rubbed you the wrong way.

“Jeonghan is from Aria.” You say softly, looking to the pavement. “He might get called up.”

The three of them turn to you, Suki plopped on a foot. You shrink into your head scarf, feigning cold. The crease to your brow has Seokmin slipping an arm around you, tucking you tightly to his side. He smiles small yet bright.

“Don’t worry too much about him. He can handle himself - besides, he’s here in Martine with us. They haven’t summoned anyone from over the border yet.”

You hum and nod, bidding farewell to the other two wizards as you turn for the hill.

The summer was in full swing, fresh sea breeze winding up the hilly streets of Martine and into the open window of your studio. It had the sun turn warmer and days drag languid. Sometimes you just wanted to stop and let the world go by, like today. Jeonghan seemed to be in the same mood, his notes open but empty in his lap and his ankles propped up on the window seat. He sits a little awkwardly, twisting to sit half in the sun. All he had asked was if your family was just as powerful as you. Then off you went. Tangents about your father and grandmother, the most powerful witch you had ever known. The gently rolled hill that made your backyard so smooth juxtaposed with your family’s higgledy-piggledy ancestral home, structures leaning and hanging off it as the members of your family grew over the generations. Your mother’s gardens, blossoming and flawless year-round. Shadows have changed for sure by the time you surface from your memories.

You feel like a bit of a fool for harping on so much about your family home, the homesickness eating away at you so obviously. Even as Jeonghan listens so intently to you, pausing his research. You laugh and shake your head.

“Y’know what? Enough about me. What about you? Did you grow up in Aria? What’s that like? Land of Melodies as they call it - oh! Can you sing?”

He chuckles but shifts, and officially closes his notes to toss them on the other window seat cushion - guess nothing was really getting done today then. You’ve mirrored him, putting a hatpin in the hat stand you were working on, setting it to the corner of the desk. You slump in your set, arms folded over the dark wood.

“I can - most of us in Aria can. If you can't, you play an instrument. Or if not that, you certainly have some kind of talent in the fine arts. It’s the backbone of the country.”

Jeonghan though, is quiet and guarded with his answers and you can’t help but think you’ve struck a nerve. But he lets you press on so you don’t quite know how bad said nerve is. You find out that he has a younger sister who is a beautiful witch herself who likes working with animals. And that he’s been away for a long time.

“So, what’s kept you away for so long? For work or - did you screw up at home too?” You laugh lighter than you feel at the self-deprecating joke.

He shoots you a look but shakes his head. “No, for work. I used to work in the King’s Court. As a performer.”

You coo in interest. “Ooh, what did you used to do!”

“I was a court magician. One of the best Spellmasters means I can do all sorts - make the stained-glass windows dance and sing, send people into the sky.” Jeonghan says gently.

Is that a whiff of wistfulness you detect? You wouldn’t be surprised. Such a job could easily boost his already inflated ego on a daily basis. Listening to the King - a man with no magic, despite his daughter’s extensive magical talents - exclaim and wax poetic about Jeonghan’s abilities would surely leave any normal magic user with a sense of importance.

“I bet that would have paid handsomely too. Why did you leave?”

Then he goes quiet, a shadow passing over his warm eyes. You’re about to pull your question when he speaks again, glancing away from you.

“Uh, affections were not returned at court, so I couldn’t stay. The King was after me over the whole ordeal, so I had to leave.”

You can’t help it - you splutter out a laugh. “You’re...on the run from the King of Aria over a jilted lover?”

He pouts and huffs, sleepy eyes turning to a steely glare. It doesn’t quiet you at all as you stop further forward, howling with laughter. Suki is curled up on the floor in a slice of sunlight, one golden eye squinted open to watch the two of you. Tugging his cloak tighter around himself, he nods.

“Not just any. The princess; his daughter.” He mumbles.

You’d met her once as a child with your family on a work trip to Aria. Beautiful and graceful. A wonderful magic-user. But very haughty and condescending to your younger self, which you never took very kindly. You could imagine the two of them together easily. Jeonghan’s pretty appearance and her sophisticated beauty, not to mention their combined magic abilities would have been something to be reckoned with. Your own heart shrinks a little, aggravating the creak to your aged bones.

“Of course - you’re the wizard the King has a bounty on! It had to be you! But why would you run from a life like that?” You say with wonder.

“I didn’t mean to lead her on - didn’t even know I was doing it until I turned her down and she threatened my life! She told the King that I stole her heart and called a bounty on me. Good thing I used an alias at the palace or I would have been done for by now.” He explains with a sigh, raking his hands through his hair and pushing his fringe back.

Surely the use of an alias didn’t make him look much better, but you decided not to offer that opinion even as you ignored the way your heart picked itself back up again. You direct your attention back to the hat at your desk, nodding in understanding.

“Wow, I’m still impressed you’ve managed to hide out for this long.” You say instead.

Jeonghan smiles. “I know. But still, I try not to get too comfortable.”

You look at the way he’s kicked off his boots by the door and now shifted off his seat and into your sunlit window seat, curled up like a cat.

“Oh yes, you look most uncomfortable in a foreign space.”

He rolls his eyes but says nothing else. Your focus back on Ms. Kang’s summer hat, an odd request for autumn - nevertheless, it’s work. As you attach and gather the inner felt and matching ribbon, you can’t shake the questions bubbling on the tip of your tongue.

“Did you steal her heart, like she said? Physically or otherwise?” You ponder aloud.

“No! As able as I am, I didn’t. She still has one. Where, I don’t know.” Jeonghan whines.

Suki startles at that, eyeing you then the beautiful Spellmaster. She migrates to his stomach and he smiles softly, rubbing gently behind her ears. You snarl under your breath, lip curled back.

“Rude little…”

Jeonghan can slowly see your youth turn its head, in minuscule ways.

Your growing passion for your little sewing business. Minji especially brings it out whenever she comes by to say hello, the grey in your hair seeming to glow like starlight in the sun - two cosmic lights against one another.

You talk to him, not like a Spellmaster to be revered, but a person. A mischievous young man that won’t leave you alone. And when he isn’t actually doing his job as Spellmaster in Martine, you’re making him run errands for you. Haeun could try and vie for his attention as much as she wanted, with a pout complaining how he worked just as hard as you. But her saccharine syrup words had nothing on the whip tongue you had that would catch his ankles.

“Jeonghan, I’ve ordered a few bolts of fabric from Seychelles and had mail come by saying it is here. Can you go down to the post office and get it?” You say, a pincushion in the shape of a squishy cat sits on your wrist. If he squinted it kind of looked like Suki.

He jerks a little from his reclined perch across from you at the desk. “You want me to do what? Can’t you get Mingyu to do it or cast it over? Or delivery?” He complains without venom.

You shoot him a severe glare. “Mingyu has guests in the B&B at the moment. Besides, this is Martine, not Aria - you should know as well as I that they aren’t forward enough to have a delivery service yet.”

There are no fine wrinkles catching on the edges of your eye side, nor in your laugh lines. Like a young woman with a grey wig on. He has to blink away his awe and compose himself. Something, he thinks, to add to his study notes. With a dramatic sweep he settles his cloak on. Running his fingers through his lengthening blonde strands to clear his face he flops in the doorframe.

“I suppose you’re right. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

You smile, small and grateful with a minor tip to your chin as a nod, aiming your focus back on the garment scattered in front of you.

You’re still young on the inside, you remind yourself, every time you gaze a little too long at Jeonghan. Rain or shine, he’s angelic. Sometimes he helps you garden, hovering by you like a worried mother while you hack away at weeds and cut flowers for the many vases that are scattered throughout Mingyu’s house.

“I - be careful! You’re…” He murmurs under his breath, gardening gloves and a ratty canvas apron tied around his waist (that you made for him, a patch of blue flowers on the pocket)

You twist on your knees to look up at him severely, a snarl twitching at the edge of your lips. “I’m what?”

“Fragile.” He sighs.

You’re still old on the outside, you remind yourself every time he says something like that, stamping out the skip in your heart.

Suki adores him, obviously - they’re just as vain as each other. Suki used to preen and fluff all the time before her mange. And now that’s back on form with the strengthened glamour, she does it twice as often, as if to make up for lost time. Jeonghan submits to her every whim.

“Oh Suki, you are gorgeous today.” He says, sickly sweet, clapping softly as she parades around the study, a new scarf made from fabric scraps nestled amongst her fur - this one in a brassy gold and green to match her eyes and her fur.

You roll your eyes. “You don’t need to humour her so - she does enough of that herself.”

She yowls at you, shooting you a scowl - you return the sentiment, sticking out your tongue over the combination undergarments you were mending - one too many romps in the field for Minji, you think wryly.

You don’t realise that your age eases every time you stay outspoken. How you glow cool yet bright like starlight, bouncing off Jeonghan’s warm and strong radiance with something softer but just as steady. You miss his glances - he has a bit more self-control - who wants to be caught daydreaming about the elderly seamstress that Mingyu houses? You hope he misses yours as it’s a little odd to be having someone of your condition look so at a young wizard of his calibre.

He doesn’t see your age very often any more - physically or otherwise. Whether it may be because he’s seen you without that elderly edge for a while or because often you don’t act your physical age. Maybe it might have to do with the fact that magic users age at a different rate to mortals, so age is less of an obstacle. But no, you're still twenty-something to him. You’re still magic.

A few weeks later, Minji, now a regular client of yours (actually, your most frequent and favourite, if you’re honest) comes rushing in. She’s a youthful whirlwind, running into the work room, the door left swinging open to let in the early autumn air. It’s not even a week after you finished her second hat and she’s waving her left hand around, shards of light scattering throughout the room.

“I - what is the meaning of this?” You splutter, squinting to shield yourself.

Hyungjin peers in from the doorway with a kind and soft smile, a little flushed in his cheeks. The ribbons of Minji’s hat flutter through the room as she squeals.

“We’re getting married!”

You stand up and eye the ring glittering on her finger, the gold band pristine and a teardrop shape of a diamond set in a gold crowning. It’s beautiful and tender, just like her. You smile brightly.

“I’m so happy for you! Congratulations!”

“It’s thanks to you - it has to be!”

You shake your head as you cradle her hand. “No, how can it be? Minji, you’re a wonderful person - of course Hyungjin would propose. He would be foolish not to.” You smile over her shoulder to him. “Just as you would have been silly to turn it down.”

She shakes her head. “No, no. It would have taken us forever! It must be you! Y/N, will you make my wedding dress? With your beautiful work and luck, I can’t imagine anyone else. Father and I will pay handsomely for your work as always, I assure you. Just, please, say yes?”

Her dark, sparkling eyes plead with you silently as Hyungjin shrugs - as if to say what his fiancé says, goes. Her hands swing yours as the bottom lip juts out in a pout. You screw your own nose up and turn away.

“Alright, fine. If you stop pulling that face.” You say gruffly.

Suki, however, has perked up immensely, golden eyes watchful and curious with their glow. Minji squeals, jumping on the spot. She even drags Hyungjin’s loping frame closer, planting a solid kiss to his cheek. Her skirts kick at your legs as she flounces about like a puppy.

“Oh, thank you! I’ll come by next Wednesday? To discuss design and budget, of course.”

Before you have a chance to even agree, she whirls out, her heels clicking over the cobblestone, but not before stopping suddenly, head tilted at you in confusion.

“I - yes?”

She laughs, shakes her head. “Nothing, only that it looked as if you had gotten younger somehow. Silly thought to tease you with, I’m sure. Goodbye!”

Her shoes sound over the stones and around the corner, naivety dancing past your window. You turn, bewildered, to Suki. She meets you halfway to stare at you just as intently. You look down at your hands, then to the half-sewn sigil in Seokmin’s mended shirt.

“Do...do you think it was really me?” You say softly to Suki. “I - do you think I can cast again?”

She chirps and leaps up to paw at the shirt, swiping it towards you. You nod and claim your usual place behind the desk, stitching away at the strength charm, pouring intent into every piercing of the fabric. You want this shirt to be strong, almost indestructible. The moment you tie the thread off, there is a gust of wind, warm and cold all at the same time. Suki bristles against it, struggling to hold herself upright. When it clears you let out a strangled scream.

Suki. She’s fluffy and majestic as the day the two of you met. As if the curse and mange had never happened. Whiskers straight and wispy, twitching proudly on her face. Her yellow eyes were vibrant, reminiscent of topaz rather than tarnished gold. She seemed to preen and wink at you, as if to say, yes, we’re back.

Jeonghan has shown up early - early being midday - for another round of study. But he’d gawked when he had seen you, claiming you were somehow different.

So, in a panic you dash back inside, scrambling for the powder room on the ground floor of Mingyu’s place. You delicately touch your face, watching your reflection react. Old. Not ugly anymore, but still old.

You tear up, biting your lip as your turn away in disgust all over again. You jump in fright at the sight of Jeonghan in the doorway. Then you promptly burst into tears, pushing past him and dashing down the path to your sewing room, slamming the door shut. You scramble to shut the filmy curtains there for privacy. Barely a moment later, there is a faint tap at the door.

"Go away!"

"Can I come in, please?" His voice is soft.

You whine out in disagreement. He knocks again, pleading gently.

"No! I'm still old! The curse isn't gone!" You cry out, crumpled against the wood.

Head buried in your knees, you lament your situation. He taps again, this time much closer to your head. His hand smooths down the wood and you assume he's sitting on the pebbled ground outside.

"Let me in so we can work this out together. Suki is out here and she looks perfectly fine. We really should talk about this."

"Ugh, I know she does! I don't want to! It's hopeless, Jeonghan. Go home, please. Take Suki with you if she'll let you. I really want to be alone." You whimper.

You can hear him shift against the wood. "Okay. But I will be back tomorrow. We will fix this. Together."

There is a soft tone of pleading you've never heard of before and he drifts away.

Jeonghan makes good on his promise, showing up the next afternoon to see how you are. He carries in a small pile of spell books, full of ideas. They fall quiet at the sight of you, passed out in the late afternoon sun over a half-made garment, the design plans crumpled under an outstretched arm. Jeonghan has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself silent. Your youth has returned to your face, smoothing out wrinkles and giving your hair a lively shade again. He seems to hold his breath, keeping the world as still as he can to look at you a moment more unbroken. This is really you. There is a pucker to your face as you shift in discomfort, opening your eyes. Then like the flood of a rainstorm, the age has returned, your prim hairstyle drawing your face back. He quickly drops all of his papers to your sewing cabinet, all of them obsolete at this new clue.

“J-Jeonghan. You are back.” You yawn, threading your needle into your garment in a baste stitch to hold it in place.

Standing, your posture isn’t as hunched as before and he can finally make out your proper facial features, even through the age. You would have looked beautiful a few months ago - you did, moments ago. The grey of your hair isn’t so wiry, more reminiscent of the silver that glints on his fingers when he casts spells - glowing and bright.

“I said I would be, so I am. Suki is in the kitchen with Mingyu. Seems like I’m not a cat’s cook.” He laughs softly.

You smile too and roll your eyes. “Don’t take it personally. She’s been my familiar for years and she’s never been completely happy with whatever I give her.”

Then, you look down to the garment you’re working on, fiddling with the rough hem. “By the way, I’m sorry for lashing out again, yesterday. It wasn’t the best news.”

He sighs and comes round to meet you by your desk. Jeonghan’s slender hand falls over your own, his thumb rubbing absent circles.

“I understand. Of course it wasn’t. It was something we didn’t factor into our journey. But it’s still progress. So now we work on this new phase.” He gives your hand a squeeze and a gentle smile. “Before you know it, you’ll be back to normal and even more amazing than before.”

With Jeonghan’s persistence at solving your magical mystery, you feel it’s only right to maybe divulge the true goal - your past. So one balmy afternoon, you walk to the back of the attic room, to the small shelf. Jeonghan is hanging in the doorway, polite yet curious. A single book sits flat - charred on the top corners and missing the back cover. Suki jumps up to the window sill and watches the two of you intently. You flip to the back few pages that move in a loop. Jeonghan leans over, scanning them carefully. It’s one of the few things you took from the accident, and it was only by luck seeing as it flew from the explosion and landed in the scorched grass nearby.

"That's Suki. Wait...is that. That's you." He says, pointing at one.

It's a personal favourite of yours. You were dancing in a circle on the back lawn of your ancestor's home, casting sparking light charms with your newly carved wand. Suki weaved and pounced at your feet, trying to catch them while you laughed at her. Even though it's in sepia tones you could see the life and youth that you used to have. The one next to it a few years before, out the front of the High Council building. You’re in your favourite cloak and a dark formal dress, the heirloom witches’ hat wonky on your head and a blinding smile. You’re holding your Class B Spellmaster qualification proudly in both hands, your wand clutched amongst it. A little over two years later, you were cursed.

"Yeah. That's what I looked like before the curse - that last one. A few months after this the accident happened and my wand splintered to pieces. I lost it and my youth to the fire." You murmur.

He smiles. "You're very pretty."

"Was, Jeonghan." You correct him gently with the slight gravel to your voice.

"Well, the ugliness was lifted, surely the age can be too." He says with conviction.

You shrug. "Let's hope."

All the while, Haeun slowly worms her way into almost every facet of your new life. Waltzing to your study space too often unannounced to do nothing but meddle and make herself at home.

Dinners and lunches at Mingyu’s round kitchen table he has to always polish before she comes or else she will say something about it. Perched daintily in the window of Seokmin’s conservatory as your little band of wizards tries another way to lift your curse. And if you weren’t familiar with these tactics you wouldn’t have picked up on just how damn nosey she was. She was no help in your quest to reverse your curse, content to babble and give the wizards the nth degree about absolutely nothing!

Asking Seokminnie about his wand skills, naively watching the shame round his shoulders as he confesses his minimal wand ability. Then her botched attempt to smooth it over and move on as if trying to hide a table under a rug.

You pat Seokmin’s arm later on, in a rare shadow of the greenhouse. “Seok, you’re the owner of the best apothecary in Martine. Who needs spells when you've got that?”

He smiles small and shrugs, his aura still seeming too dim for your liking. Such a kind young man didn’t deserve to be diminished.

“I guess. Thanks.”

“No, I mean it. Leave her be. You’re worth far more than you’re obviously giving credit for.”

Haeun isn’t a threat. You aren’t competition. There is no competition – you’re an old lady. Albeit a young woman trapped in the body of an elderly one, but still. Haeun doesn’t know that. Still, whenever she comes around to your sewing space specifically, babbling like a schoolgirl, you end up more accident prone and grinding your teeth. Mingyu and Joshua have wisely learnt that it is in your best health not to bring the Aria holidaymaker to the study.

Jeonghan is another story.

Suddenly, for all his perceptiveness, he brings her round every time he’s with her. Despite your abrasiveness toward her, he’s smooth as butter. Perches himself on the edge of your desk, the soft scent of honey and something fresh filling your senses. Haeun almost always tries to hover with him before resigning herself to the window seat, thus kicking Suki from her sun spot. You’re glad you have at least one comrade - as unlikely as she is - in arms against this imaginary foe. Surely he isn’t being that oblivious or insulting. Jeonghan isn’t like that. You hope it’s just a necessary evil he can’t get out of, or constant coincidence. Maybe she likes being in your space? Whatever it is, you wish it weren’t true.

Mingyu brings it up, oddly enough, as you nurse your tender, well-stabbed fingers just before dinner.

“Have you ever known Haeun to be a flirt?” He says over the chopping board.

You shrug. “Not entirely? She follows Jeonghan around like a lost puppy, but that’s most likely only because they’ve both been to Aria. I mean, I went when I was a kid - my grandmother had work liaisons with the royal family and their council - but I don’t remember much.”

The tall Kitchenmaster frowns and nods slowly. “I see.”

You stand up and scoop up the pile of carrots and drop it in the pot. “Why, ‘Gyu? Do you see something?”

Your heart sinks as you say it out loud and Suki peers up at you, careful and strangely still - now that she’s back on form, she’s exceedingly attuned to you, perceptive to everything you don’t want to say.

Mingyu shrugs. “I mean, it was fine at first - she’s new to Martine. But now she hangs off Jeonghan like a... a bit of a leech. She’s almost been run over twice! Jeonghan has had to pull her out of traffic both times and she fell all over him when she did so. I don’t know - it just seems a little too much to be coincidental. She’s even starting to stir talks in the bakery and the post office! Eugene is talking about her.”

Your brow shoots up and you decide to avoid Mingyu’s awfully accurate deductions. “Eugene! Well, she’s making an awful lot of fuss for some summer holiday maker.”

The tall young man shrugs, fluffing his brown hair out of his eyes. “I suppose. But I have a feeling she might fancy Jeonghan - she’s always trying to get him to go to dinner or lunch with her. He can’t seem to take the hint for once though. He’s usually so perceptive with people.”

You screw your nose up and scoff. “Oh, my days. Who would ever think that throwing yourself into oncoming traffic is a successful way of courting someone? I certainly hope you aren’t right, Mingyu or else I’ll be a bit sick. Poor Hannie.”

The taller man snaps his head up at the affectionate name, but says nothing else.

You see it yourself later in the week though when Jeonghan convinces you to come out with them for lunch. You even waggled your finger at him as menacing as you could.

“Only because I do have errands to run - I have some deliveries to pick up and drop offs to make, okay? Lunch is a maybe.”

He pouts at you as you leave the study and lock it behind you. Suki is right on your tail and you blow your silver-grey hair from your face.

“A definite maybe?”

You roll your eyes. “Fine… a definite maybe.”

Haeun somehow ends up trailing behind us and Suki, a third wheel dressed in a sunhat and another chemise de la Reine, a pricey garment for a stroll. “I - if you are too busy to come along, we understand, don't we Jeong? You ought to leave her alone at her work - she must have a lot to do.”

She hastens to shut the gate behind the lot of you, bundling up her skirts a touch so as not to catch it on the fence or the bushes. Her pet name for him makes you turn - it didn’t even roll well, you think in a petty tone. Jeonghan rolls his eyes, slipping your arm through his and patting your frail hand that rested over his forearm.

“Haeun, don’t be silly - our seamstress mistress here never comes out! She needs a rest - a breath of fresh air, hmm?”

He looks down at you kindly but you keep tight-lipped. You hope the elderly don’t know how to blush or you’re done for.

Jeonghan guides you to the inside of the sidewalk, closer to the shop fronts, his arm curled securely in yours. This leaves Haeun to bring up the rear, her steps fast and small as she tries to keep up with the two of you - Jeonghan’s legs long and your agenda short.

“So, what’s for lunch-”

“Can we go to the post office first? That’s why I came out. And to Madam Park.” You pat the hat box in front of you.

He rolls his eyes but smiles. “Ah, yes that. I suppose so - let me.”

He tugs the hatbox from your grasp, tucking it up under his arm. Haeun gasps and puffs on your tail as you turn into Martine’s post office, the door jingling brightly.

“Eugene!” You call.

A familiar man with dark wavy hair pops up around the corner, fluffy moustache and all.

“Ah! My favourite witch! And Jeonghan, Master of Spells!” Eugene cries out, heavily accented.

You roll your eyes. “You know better than to call me a witch - and don’t stroke his ego. He doesn’t need the help.”

You all laugh as the owner personally attends to you from the gate by the counter. His hands are permanently ink stained and a roll of postage stamps is unfurling from his pocket.

“Ah, but you have to be a witch to enchant Master Jeonghan to do anything!” Eugene counters.

Jeonghan’s mouth flaps indignantly, no sound able to come out, even as he goes a little pink. You actually giggle – Eugene had always been the best for banter, ever since you did his suit for him. The anniversary dinner went great and he had sung your praises to anyone in the post office that week.

“Do you have my parcels?” You chirp.

He nods and hums, flipping his imaginary mane of hair. “Certainly! A lot of them this week - are you sure you can carry them all?”

“I, uh just the little ones today - I’ll pick up the mannequin tomorrow.” You decide aloud.

He puts them in a little canvas bag, no doubt one of many from his wife, Francesca. “Here you go, amica.”

“Not to worry Eugene, I’ll pick up the mannequin tonight?” Jeonghan says breezily. Jeonghan scoops that the little canvas bag too, even as you grab for it in protest. He tips his nose up haughtily to end the conversation.

“Ah Master Jeonghan. Of course, of course.” Eugene smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. “See? He’s so enchanted you didn’t even have to ask him!”

You protest again without much energy, more so out of propriety. They chat lightly and you happily wait. Maybe the wizard was right about getting some fresh air. Your shoulders felt lighter, your mind a little less restless. There is movement in the corner of your eye and you catch the tail end of Haeun slipping out the door to wait outside. With her many skirts and her feathered straw hat, maybe it had become a little claustrophobic in the little store for her. If she had learned to take off her hat…

Finally, the two of you wave off the postman and head back out into the sunny weather. Haeun appears indifferent and patient, turning from the shop window next door to brighten at the sight of you.

“Ah, Jeonghan.”

Oh. Right. Again, he situates you on the inside of the sidewalk and straightens his back. “Thank you for your patience, Haeun. Now, Y/N, what’s next?”

You lift the small package you bought with you; a pink cloth held together with twine. “I have to deliver this and the hatbox to Madam Park’s residence then I am back to the study.”

He pouts. “Not even lunch? Look, even Suki would like something to eat!”

You glance down to your familiar, sitting and glaring patiently. She just wants out, full stop. You stoop to glare her down – a stalemate. “You little… fine. Madam Park then lunch. Then, back to the study.” You state firmly.

Madam Park is not at home, but her doorman takes the package. You’re a little disheartened that you cannot see her reaction like you usually do, but surely she’ll come back later on in the week to thank you – she always does.

So as you walk down Martine’s cobbled Main Street – the only street in town devoid of any cars – the three of you discuss lunch prospects.

“What about that spicy thai?” Haeun suggests.

Before you can voice your weariness because you’re fussy like that, Jeonghan shakes his head. “No, Y/N is very sensitive to heat. There’s that tea house in the gardens? Overlooking the koi pond? An iced tea and something fresh?”

You smile. “Oh, you remembered. Thank you. But, I don’t mind.”

“The tea house it is then.” He decides.

As your little group walks downhill for the tea house, chat is mostly shallow - about things such as his upcoming jobs and rumours about Minji’s wedding. It was so far off but already the rumour mill was working overtime about anything from a secret child to his sister being snubbed from the guest list. You both know the truth and you’re delighted to hear that Hyunjin’s family has enlisted Soonyoung and Joshua to be part of the ceremony - both of their talents would be well utilised. Haeun makes comments here and there about the unfounded rumours as if they’re true but for once they roll off your back like water on duck feathers. His arm doesn’t loosen from yours once.

It’s mostly business as usual from here. Jeonghan brings your mannequin by and complains the whole time setting it up that it’s too heavy and any minor inconvenience in between. But it’s sorted eventually and just in time for Minji’s preliminary appointment - she’s bringing her mother and a few of her friends by too for an ideas session. She sent a brief message the other day that her whole wedding party was considering garments or accessories from you and you could already see how packed you would be leading up to it. Haeun comes around more unprompted, making herself a nuisance.

Haeun looks at you, pity bloomed like a garden in her eyes. “Oh, how horrible to be cursed with such an affliction. I would hate to be so old so soon.”

She shudders at the thought and you pause the mending of her winter stockings to glare at her. One positive to it all is how hard an old lady’s glare can hit home. It can silence even a morning rooster if used well. She stills and settles, suitably humbled-

“- but why someone would curse a mortal like us is beyond me.” She muses and your brows shoot up into your hairline. Mort-what? But she still wasn’t quiet, dammit.

“So, what did you look like before?” Haeun asks, fluttering her lashes.

She speaks as if she’s never been told no. You push her garment away, utterly finished for the day, no matter how much daylight was left. Although why she wanted to have a winter item fixed in summer was beyond you. Using and abusing your talent with a needle while she was here, must have been it.

“Younger.” You snap, rather loudly.

The young woman startles and looks at you, mouth finally closed.

“I have other errands to do - I’m sure you can see yourself out now. Suki.”

You stand, Suki hot on your heels, like she doesn’t want to be seen there either. There is a faint hiss from the furball as you turn the corner. And if Suki gets to her stockings again later on and renders them irrevocably damaged, you try very hard to appear ignorant and sorry. You don’t need her business - you weren’t that desperate.

But you startle on an overcast morning at the loud thunder of footsteps nearing you. There is a blur past your window before Jeonghan breaks into your doorway. His expression is the strongest pout you’d ever seen. He smells like smoked fish and his pants up to his knees sopping wet, not to mention the rest of him was at varying levels of soaked as well.

“What in Merlin’s - Jeonghan what happened?” You say, pushing your current commission aside. Suki stands still, very obviously torn between running and comforting him - the smoked fish smell is throwing her off, for sure.

He sighs, out of breath. “I was on a job this morning and the Port Authority forgot to mention that it was Flying Bluebream season. As soon as I started my casting on the first ship, they flew out of the water and into me! Then, since I hadn't finished the spell, the engine of the boat blew up with the sudden influx of weight and magical energy in the area and I almost sank with it! Never again. Soonyoung can have them.”

You take him in better and your chest seizes up. Softly, you mention the added problem. “Jeonghan…your cloak. Did it get caught in the engine maybe?”

His mournful eyes fly wide and he unclasps it from his neck, swinging it round for him to better examine. On the outside, there were fish scales and guts - that was an easy wipe down thanks to your sigils and choice of fabric. But the hem…it looked like it had been chewed on and spat out before being set on fire. Then Jeonghan makes the loudest noise you’d ever heard from him - a raspy quiet-loud yell layered with dismay and frustration. He even gives it a maddened shake.

“How did I not notice? What are we going to do?” He cries out at the top of his lungs.

You’re shocked into silence with all the raucous he’s making and Suki has made her choice to back up behind the desk, her jewelled eyes blown wide. Carefully, you pry it from his grasp. As much as you’re annoyed by the destruction of your hard work, you know it’s not his fault. The Port Authority should have told him - they would know the seasons of the ocean off by heart, so to enlist his help but not think through all possible occurrences is their fault. Even the explosion is on their head. You carefully run your fingers over the damage, mind wandering. You still had scraps of his cloak material in the cupboard and you could add that length back along with the sigils, which had held up surprisingly well. They would be even better now you had some of your magic back.

“Calm down, Hannie.” You say, gentle. “First of all, we need to clean it of all this fish and guts. Go find Mingyu and ask for a bucket of warm soapy water and a soft scrubbing brush. And a stool - I’ll need something to sit on.” You give him a once over and frown, reaching for him - you weren’t sure where your hand wanted to land though. “Oh, Jeonghan, please get a change of clothes too. You’ll get sick.”

He nods and races out. You carefully drop it to the floor while putting your pin cushion and various other sewing supplies aside. Then you adjust your apron tighter and roll up your sleeves past your elbows, grabbing a scrap ribbon to keep your hair out of your face. Suki sniffs the air and backs up even more and you shoot her a look.

“Don’t you be so dramatic. When Jeonghan gets back, you need to be nice. He’s your favourite, so it shouldn’t be too hard, huh?” You mutter at her.

From there, you scoop it back up and take it outside, resting it on a windowsill. He waddles around the corner moments later, trying as best as he can not to let the water slosh. His lovely brow is furrowed deeply, teeth bared in concentration.

“I’ve got to get you a stool - be back.” He adds as soon as he’s put the bucket in front of you.

You pick up the brush straight away from the depths of the water, brisky brushing it down to dislodge the unwanted debris and give it an initial spot wash. You make a note to sweep this all away into the garden once it is all sorted. You delicately soak the swath of fabric and you’re about to drop into an awkward squat when he comes out in a shirt two sizes too big, sliding to bare his porcelain collarbones and a pair of trousers with a drawstring tightened over his hips and rolled up at the hem. He’s in a pair of clogs you would have thought were for gardening and a towel slung around his shoulders. Jeonghan’s wand holster has moved from under against his ribcage to sit lopsided on his hip, easier to put on but more often a more combat-style placement. You bury a chuckle behind your fist and he sets a three-legged seat by you. You don’t react and take a seat, getting to work on washing out the smell and anything else hidden.

“When I’m done, this is going to have to dry before I can mend it. If we do it without a spell, I won’t be done till tonight at least. Unless Mingyu or you have anything up your sleeves to dry it out quicker.” You say, starting to twist your wrist to scrub.

He’s gone again and by the time Suki has finally braved the mild elements and you’ve finished washing it, he’s back, his wand twirling between his gracefully calloused fingers. There is a bit more pep in his step too and his hair is dry, towel missing.

“Hang it here.” He says with soft command, gesturing to Mingyu’s washing line.

Once done, his hand takes your wrist, keeping you close and yet out of the way. He murmurs an incantation and a sculpted blast of wind spurts from the tip of his wand, swirling and fluttering the garment in a targeted way before dissipating. Mingyu had obviously provided some kind of spell, as you suspected he had as a Kitchenmaster. You’re smiling smugly when you whip it from the line and bring it back inside.

“Jeonghan, can you give me…two hours? Then it’ll be good as new.” You say, already buried in the cupboard full of your scraps.

He takes a seat in the window, sleepy lashes fluttering expectantly with his chin in his palm. “I’ve got time.”

You can’t help but smile a little, trying in vain to press it down between your lips. In an effort to be nonchalant, you shrug and stoop over your emergency project, brandishing your scissors to the light like a mad scientist before hacking at the charred edges. His eyes on you set you ablaze and build the much-needed pressure to spur you on.

Finally, after exactly two hours and a lot of fiddly sewing and snipping, the sigils are fixed and the hem looks like it never happened. It had somehow gotten easier over time, your shoulders and knuckles not aching so much and more dexterous than usual. You put it down to finding a working rhythm. Now you lift it and flick it straight with a flourish, presenting it to Jeonghan, who has been mostly quiet during your fever state. He springs to his feet on your rug, having kicked Mingyu's gardening shoes by the coat hooks. He doesn’t even bother inspecting your work, reaching straight for it and slinging it over his shoulders. His eyes sparkle again and his lemony hair has regained its willowy life.

“Are you not going to check my workmanship?” You pout a little.

“Do I have to? I trust you.” Jeonghan says lightly, smoothing it down his sides.

“What about a thank you?”

He rolls his eyes and leans for you, bowing multiple times. “Thank you so much for your tireless work, Mistress Y/N. Ah, my hero - an angel.” Then he goes ramrod straight, his eyes lighting up, scarily so. “Yes, Angel.”

You squint your eyes in return. “Why do I feel like that isn’t good for me?”

He reaches to brush a non-existent hair from your cheek and you seize up with the affectionate implication. Then there’s that grin that only spells trouble, too pretty and too sly.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, Angel.”

Then you scowl and clench your teeth, hoping you can’t blush - they way his grin widens and his shoulders roll back says otherwise. You curse Great Merlin, Morgana and all in between for the name. With that he whirls out, mentioning something about Mingyu and washing.

Haeun’s outspoken opinion really crosses state lines one blithe summery day in the studio, which has eventually become the main hub of all things – Mingyu’s kitchen is usually the other location of large discussion. Soonyoung has come in with another newspaper article, detailing the sanctions and tough conditions wizards and now other magic users are facing in Aria. You know that this would be a matter of great concern to your grandmother, as a principal member on the High Council. But, no mention of them has occurred yet. Perhaps they are biding their time on a plan of sorts. You look over to Jeonghan, who has sobered at the mention of other magic users. His sister. You hope the Council has a plan.

You frown. “That’s horrible. But surely, a crusade against wizards is a little much?”

Haeun looks at you with a glaring pout. “Love is enough for a war. A broken heart is enough for such a mission. I feel as though maybe your age may cause you to forget the strength of young love.”

You rear up, pushing aside the mending task at hand. Stepping around the desk, you point menacingly. Mingyu is startled, too stunned by the unfolding argument to intervene.

“Excuse me? Did you just call me a forgetful old biddy?” You snap. “Heartless and dismissive because I think the king and princess are being stupid?”

Her eyes widen and she puts her palms up. “No! No, not at all! Only that things feel different over time and such an endeavour is warranted for a higher power.”

Another step as you swat her hands away to encroach on her space even more, forcing yourself to look upwards at her soft face. You growl through clenched teeth, “you’re making it worse.”

“Whatever do you mean? Madam Y/N, the crusade in Aria is at the will of the blood of the monarchy and magic. I was always told that magic casters felt things differently - stronger - and that their love was not something to be messed with. It was fate and it cannot be fought. So of course the current situation in Aria is serious. But easily resolved.” Haeun pouts, tilting her head like a lost puppy.

Now your finger jabs her chest, hard and you bare your teeth just like Suki. She gasps, making a little squeak when you do it again. “How - How - just where did you hear all of this drivel! You Arians are delusional if that’s what you all think. It’s cruelty - even a mortal can see that!”

Jeonghan delicately reaches out to grasp your hand, turning your smaller frame away. His eyes are insistent, the quirk to his mouth begging you to back down.

“Okay, okay, let’s give everyone a little space. Haeun?” He soothes, even as his eyes slide back to you to betray his uneasiness. “Come, this kind of topic is not worth the energy.”

You’re still glaring. She relents and smiles prettily at Jeonghan.

Haeun nods. “Exactly. As much as the King is right, it’s not something to be debated over at this point in time. Everyone here is safe.” As you try to dodge and struggle at her underhanded quip, she looks expectantly at the wizards in the room. “Masters Jeonghan and Mingyu, will you accompany me to a lunch venue - I haven’t had a chance to find anywhere particularly enticing today.”

Jeonghan smiles diplomatically, stepping away from you and closer to the door. “Certainly, it would be a pleasure.”

Soonyoung has wedged himself up against the wall at the exchange, gaping like a fish out of water. All over a news article, he’s probably thinking. Haeun dips her head at you as you stew, smiling brightly. Her dress is taking up most of the work space and you want to yank off the silly lobster tail bustle you would never see in this summer weather. Not to mention the hat she rudely left on as she entered, despite standing right next to the coat rack. She keeps doing these things! How quickly your perception of a person can change.

“Right then.” She quirks her lips up in a wry smile, as if she knows something you don’t. Such a feeling is something you’re not used to. “I have a feeling our relationship is becoming quite interesting, Madam Y/N. Even with our differences - but that will only make it all the more intriguing, will it not? Hmm, goodbye.”

She turns with a swirl and exits the room, leaving you unable to make a reply as she leaves the door wide open. What in Merlin’s name is that cryptic babble supposed to mean? You turn your lip back and shut the door with a simple push - an action that takes about as much effort as a charm in a sock. So why couldn’t she do it! Jeonghan looks at you and presses a polite kiss to your temple, patting your hand.

“I’ll see you later, okay? Try to calm down. She’s from Aria - she doesn’t mean to antagonise you. That’s just the way their people are.” He says with a shrug.

You arch a brow. “What, like you?”

He clasps his chest in mock hurt. “You wound me, Angel. I’m a delight.”

He tucks your grey hair behind your ear and waves you off. Jeonghan jogs after the others and around the corner, waving wildly as he passes the window - you roll your eyes and return the gesture, sagging against the edge of the desk the moment his shadow is gone. Suki watches you and in an uncharacteristic move, jumps the desk to your hip and settles against you, the fluffy warmth swathing you in a moment of calm.

Seokmin has a massive order of potions to send out, so he’s called everyone in to help. The sun doesn’t blister through the cloudy day, which is a saving grace. Soonyoung and Joshua, a Crystalmaster in the highest class are inside the shop arguing over whether rose or rose hip is the better ingredient while Seokmin is working on one cauldron in the warm conservatory. Jeonghan is there too, laughing amongst them all - goodness, he glows. You’re with the far larger cauldron outside - this batch flies off the shelves so it needs to last at least the rest of summer. It’s in the final stages of brewing, you know that much, with how few ingredients are left out.

You don't miss Haeun walking past the simmering potion, thick fluttering lashes blinking curiously as she passes by. You turn your attention back to the bunch of herbs you've twisted in twine, chopping the foliage as small as possible for the next step of the potion. You suddenly flinch as the sharp smell of something chemical and sour hits your nose. Looking back up to the potion, you see dark smoke curling thick from the cauldron.

"Uh, Seokmin?" You yell from the courtyard, unable to tear your eyes away from the vicious turn.

You shoo Suki back as you peer into the iron vessel. It bubbles thick and slow like tar while simultaneously bubbling and boiling in the middle like dishwashing liquid. It's turned from a calm aloe green to a sickly swamp and forest shade. You jump back with a squeak as a large bubble pops and spits. The four rush out, Seokmin pushing through. Haeun is perched on the entry steps, brow creased.

"What did you do?" Seokmin says accusingly, dipping his ladle into scoop some of the turning potion out into a shallow bowl. It hisses and burns, the smoke lessening.

"I didn't do anything! I don't have the recipe, you do. Besides, I don't have the kind of power to put something in with that much intent, we all know this." You snap, stepping back.

You cross your arms, indignant that you were accused of something that you didn't do. Joshua screws his nose up at the scent, falling back next to you. His built upper body dwarfs you greatly and you bury the urge to shrink into his dark navy cloak.

"Can you fix it, Seok?" Soonyoung murmurs.

"Maybe. Do we have salt, distilled water, probably sage and… ‘Shua, you got any quartz on you?"

Joshua beams and fishes amongst his many pockets to pull out a white crystal. "Always."

You and Soonyoung wade over with the other ingredients, watching as he carefully cups a small pile of salt in, a hefty splash of moon water and a whole bundle of sage. He murmurs to the quartz in his hands until it glows and drops it in, waiting. It seems to calm and dilute itself, falling back to a simmer. But as soon as it calms, it seems to turn violent, growing rapidly in size, the iron cauldron warping with the backfired potion. Seokmin's eyes fly wide.

"It’s going to blow! Run!"

The group scatters, but as you hear the rumble and creak growing in insistence over your shoulder, you worry if you'll make it. Jeonghan turns and yanks on your arm, huddling you in front of him as he dives for the work bench you were just at. There is a hollow explosion, seemingly full of air that bursts behind you and rocks the bench, then a heavy splatter. Jeonghan keeps you curled up tight against him, tucked under his chin. It goes quiet and all of you peek to see the damage. The backyard is covered with tar-like liquid, Seokmin's cauldron out of shape at the rim, but not burst. You're shaking from the suddenness of everything and Jeonghan is gentle in helping you up and trying to soothe your racing heart. Haeun and Soonyoung both pop out from inside the conservatory and Seokmin and Joshua from around the side of the shop. Suki is frazzled in the window.

"What the hell happened to that?" Joshua says carefully.

"No idea. Something might have fallen in it. Also, definitely the sage." Seokmin confirms, dodging the sticky substance on the floor and walls.

You can feel eyes on you and you slide your sight to catch Haeun staring right at you, mouth ajar. She blinks rapidly upon being found out, turning away purposefully. Her nose still tips up in the air. Jeonghan's arm doesn't leave your shoulder.

"I'm gonna get y/n back to Gyu's - she's a bit shaken up. Will you be okay here without me?" The pretty Spellmaster says.

Seokmin sighs. "Yeah, I guess. We have the cleaning here covered. See you guys later. Feel better soon."

You wave goodbye, not sure if you can trust your voice yet. Jeonghan's arm doesn't leave your shoulders, Suki trotting in your shadow. You're glad the walk isn't very far, but he still lets you take your time as your breath still rattles and your limbs suddenly fragile as glass. You hate being reminded of how out of touch your body is with your mind. It's not until you're back at Mingyu's, sat at his rocky kitchen table that you finally speak.

"Haeun was the last person near the potion." You murmur.

The pretty Spellmaster turns to you from the window - he’s gorgeous in that afternoon sunlight. "What?"

"Haeun. She was near the potion right before it went weird. I don't want to point fingers but there's a chance that she put something in." You dip your head.

Jeonghan takes the seat next to you, resting his hands over your knees. Dark eyes bore into you, steady and sure. There is no vengeful conviction, but you don’t need that. Whatever Jeonghan is, is enough.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of this. I believe you.” His lip pulls up and he pats your knee again, a little more rough and good natured. Then he stands and pats at the sleeve of your dress, adjusting the strap of your apron. “I’m going to go back and check on the clean-up. But I’ll be back for dinner tonight. Will you be okay till then?”

You nod. “Sure. We’ll be out in the study, hmm Suki?”

She tilts minutely to open her eyes, the best version of agreeing you’ll get. Jeonghan hums. “Right, then, I’ll see you later, Angel.”

He floats out and you wave your fist indignantly after him the moment he closes his mouth. “Hey, stop calling me Angel! I’m an old woman for goodness’ sake!”

You hear later on that the cleaning went off without a hitch and that the next batch of potions did as well, notably you were not invited. It feels like a bit of a stab to the gut, but you try to brush it off, especially with the amount of commissions you have this month - you would have more than enough money left over after Mingyu’s board and re-stocking your supplies you wouldn’t even know what to do with it!

Haeun comes by far more often than before, sometimes even unaccompanied. Still shoving Suki from her place in the sun and pulling out a battered poetry book that she didn’t seem to really read. Instead, she would interrogate you, full of backhanded compliments and badly veiled insults under the guise of curiosity and culturally different social etiquette. Suki had made it clear she hated her, even ditching you in favour of scruffy little Aji in the main house. You bit your tongue a lot with her, especially after the last argument. Pick your battle seemed to be the motto of your relationship.

“So, Madam Y/N. Jeonghan likes to be close to you. Wouldn’t you consider that a little odd at your age?” She says with her funny little lilt. Her poetry book hasn’t been touched, her pinky finger slipped between the wrong pages.

Your teeth grind but you don’t stop to look up at her. “Perhaps, but I’m also at the age where we can learn a lot from one another. He could stand to grow up a little. I don’t read into it, Haeun. Besides, didn’t you say that age moves differently with magic users?”

Her pillowy mouth rounds and flaps as she struggles for words. “But-but it still doesn’t make sense. He takes such good care of you and escorts you out of here like a date! I find it far too familiar of the two of you.”

“Jeonghan takes care of me. I am frail and ill-tempered at my age. He and the others are kind and attentive to me and my afflictions. There is nothing wrong with that, nor is there any more to it. Haeun, I would sincerely advise you to stop trying to read between lines that are not there.” You are quiet yet firm.

She merely ducks her head, scolded for the time being. After a long while where you manage to finish the darts needed for the garment and she ruminates in the quiet, Haeun sets her poetry book aside and reaches into her reticule to pull out an embroidery panel of Aria’s native flowers.

“Madam Y/N, I would like to give this to you. I am by no means the best at the work, but I thought you might appreciate it.” She lays it in front of you, right over the garment you’re currently working on.

Again, as if she is the centre of everyone’s universe. You pick it up to better inspect it. It’s a shocking result - the threads are uneven and twisted, front and back and you worry that the hoop hasn’t been tightened to the correct tension. You smile thinly and put it in the third draw of the desk - where you keep your scraps.

“Haeun, thank you for the gift. I can see you worked very hard on it and appreciate it very much.” You lie through your teeth.

She preens. “Thank you for noticing. I think I should get going though - I do have other appointments.”

You grunt a reply but question what other engagements she has - she has only ever oscillated around the young wizards you call friends. She pops to her feet and glides out, leaving a heady scent of roses in her wake that stab right between your eyes.

Perhaps it’s your own fault for going back this late at night – your last delivery could have waited, and you certainly weren’t given extra for it like usual. The sea breeze whipped through these narrow streets particularly sharply, so the shawl you had on combatted it well. Soonyoung had brought it back as a souvenir from his trip to the mountains, so the fabric was enchanted – thin but well insulated for versatility. Despite the late time, the shadows were longer and darker than expected.

Then there was the smell. Rather than the brisk tang of sea salt and a touch of pine from the shoreline, this was closer to sulphur or the mudflats from further down the coast. The swamp dwellers were notorious for their proclivity to dark magic. They were the ones you went to for revenge and the forbidden. So why that scent was here confused you. The air was thick and the streets devoid of people, something was very wrong. People liked to stand on the cobbled streets well into the night, warm drinks in hand, socialising in the most inconvenient of places.

You turn and stretching from every shadow and unsavoury corner are beings oozing and rasping toward you. Bottomless ink black Phantoms for your soul. The more shadows you pass, the more they catch and gather, growing in numbers. The smell is thick and suffocating, an ice cold rocketing up your spine. Mingyu’s is too far, Seokmin too far as well and under protected for such a situation. Joshua has already been passed. Jeonghan said he was on a job tonight. Which leaves Soonyoung. He’s a detour down a risky, dimly lit alley to the parallel street, but it had to be done.

“S-Suki, Soonyoung’s. Go.” You gasp, as she yowls and takes off running.

You pick up the pace as best you can with the uneven cobblestones and winding streets. The Phantoms sound like a windstorm, no human noise to be heard. They swallowed anything human or otherwise they set their sights on. You let out a weak yell when you feel a tendril, wet and viscous glance at your ankle. Soonyoung lives in a wonky little townhouse with warm brown and black fired brick and a russet brown door. There is some kind of sigil carved into the door, a pattern of them around the doorframe and windows as well. Perfect choice to seek refuge with. The door flings open before you can get to it, his keen eyes on you as he grabs both of your wrists and yanks you in. The door slams shut. Suki is sitting on his living room carpet, awash in warm tones and streaks of black.

“By Merlin, what’s going on with you!” He cries, patting you briefly to check you over.

“Phantoms.” You wheeze.

He jumps, wriggling about on the spot. “You brought Phantoms to my door! How did you find them?”

You lean against his hall table and glare at him. “They found me.”

“Phantoms are old entities. They need something physical to keep them attached to this plane.” He murmurs to himself, looking you over with his chin in his hand.

Soonyoung goes still then fixates on the brooch that kept your shawl on your shoulder. He points accusingly at it as it glints in the streetlight. “Where did you get that from?” He yells out.

You pat it, tracing your finger over the filigree edging. “I - Haeun gave it to me. For fixing her third dress this month. Said it was in her family but not her taste? Insolent girl.”

She’d implied that it was too dated for her and that your old age was perfect for it. By Merlin, always a dig at your age from her, constantly backhanded. He almost rips your shirt-waist in his haste to take it off your person. As your shawl falls away, he tosses it to the floor of his hallway like it burns. Again, he points at it aggressively.

“That - that thing is riddled with negative energy! It has to be cursed as well.” he tosses a glance over your shoulder to the Phantoms loitering outside his door. “That’s why those entities have been chasing you. Something has happened to set off the energy and attract them. We need this cleansed, right now.”

Soonyoung backs up the hall, eyes still on the glinting metal. “Stay here. Watch that. I’ll call the others.”

As soon as he turns the corner for his pokey kitchen, the windows start to whistle and rattle, as if there is a hurricane outside. You know it's the Phantoms. But you don’t dare face them with what Soonyoung has told you. Something you don’t want to risk blinking and missing. Moments later, he’s racing out the room, and grabbing your wrist, yanking you down the house after him. Throwing open a door with his free hand, there is a small, step-in study with all sorts of ritual resources. Instantly, he pulls a swath of cloth, a jar of salt, matches and some dried herb bunch. The phantom hurricane roars louder and you shriek in shock. His brows are set - you’ve never seen him so serious and determined, usually happy-go-lucky and chaotic.

He passes you the cloth and salt. “Can you help me block off the area? Until they get here?”

“Who’s coming?” You ask as you throw the sigil-sewn cloth over the brooch and trickle a steady unbroken ring of salt around it.

“Everyone - ‘Shua, Seokminnie, Jeonghan and Mingyu. If it can pull out all this level of Phantom, I don’t know how powerful it actually is.”

Everything within you seems to seize up as you stare, unseeing, at the pile of fabric at your feet. His warm hand wraps around your shoulder. He’s burning the herbs, waving the smokes in patterns over the brooch. Soonyoung’s sharp gaze shortens momentarily.

“We’ve got you. You’ll be fine.”

“I’m so sorry for bringing this into your house.” You lament.

He shrugs. “That’s what friends are for. I’m glad you trusted me enough to find me for help. I was probably your best bet in a pinch anyway - a lot of my magic works with physical items and energy signatures.”

There is a long, frantic knocking at the door and Soonyoung leans back to call down the hall, “come round back! Quick!”

Joshua bursts in first, his cloak pockets heavy and clinking softly with his multitude of crystals. His hair looks a little sleep rumpled. “I saw them crowd the windows - what’s going on?” He says.

“Y/n set off a cursed artefact. Phantoms ensue.” Soonyoung explains. “D’you bring cleansers and shields?”

You take offence to his choice of words. “I-hey! I didn’t do anything but wear it! Why do you guys keep thinking it’s my fault these things happen?”

The dancer gives you a sympathetic look but says nothing more of it. Instead they seem to ignore you and start to merge and chatter orders and ideas, Joshua setting crystals - most quartz - around your shawl. Static starts to build in the air and the Phantoms even more restless somehow. You feel listless and left out. Maybe even a bit envious - if you had proper magic this would never have happened. Jeonghan breaks in next, hair windblown and his cloak buttoned wonky over an undershirt and loose trousers. His scowl rivals the storm outside. Instantly he steps for you, raising a hand to your face, checking you over.

“What happened? Are you all right?” He says a little harsher than you’re used to.

Still, you nod as Mingyu jogs in, apron smouldering in patches and Seokmin carrying a large bag, a little pink in the face.

“Yes, I’m well. The brooch from Haeun is cursed.” You mutter.

His expression turns funny - something about it you can’t pin down - and he guides you to the edge of the stairs. “I see. Stay here while we cleanse it. Then we’ll dispose of it.”

“I’m sorry for pulling you away from your commission.” You mumble, tilting your chin away from him.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright, Angel. I’ll always come. Let’s go, hmm?”

He knows you too well, that after this ordeal you wouldn’t want anything to do with it anymore. That you knew he was busy and Soonyoung called him anyway. Seokmin is frantically stirring and splashing concoctions on the pile while Mingyu, Soonyoung and Jeonghan plan out a spell. The three of them start to chant in Archaic, wands aimed at a point in the air. You clasp your hands over your ears as the noise of the Phantoms becomes closer to a wretched scream. The fabric starts to smoke then is alight with bright orange flames, burning rapidly to a crisp, with the ease that the natural cotton had. Then the brooch starts to jump and rattle, writhing painfully on Soonyoung’s floor. Seokmin peeks under Mingyu’s arm to splash some more potion on it. Joshua is sat on the floor, eyes screwed shut as the quartz flexes and glows at his command - you can almost see the tangible webbing of magic whispering white between them, like a cage. There is the sensation of all the air being sucked from the room, into the brooch in its last ditch attempt to fight before it also screeches and pops, molten and limp. Mingyu’s forehead is beaded with sweat and Soonyoung’s jaw is cleaned so tightly you would have mistaken it for being screwed shut. But the Phantoms are silent, the streetlight back to glaring through Soonyoung’s front windows. You slump and heave a sigh, the air back to normal. Joshua, a little pale, collects his precious stones and stores them in his cloak, clattering away with the weight. He tilts his head to check in on you.

“How are you?” He says gently as always.

You smile. “Better, now that’s over. Thank you all for your help.”

He rises to his feet and rubs warmly at your upper arm. “Of course we would. Here, take a couple of these for protection for a little while. You know the drill - put them at windows and on your person.” He drops a few quartz and malachite into your apron pocket with a soft smile.

They’re all a little drained from the ordeal, so Soonyoung brews some tea and you all claim various seats, sprawling out from the front living room to the stairwell where you stayed on the bottom steps. The tea was warm and strongly herbal with lemon balm and chamomile. You were pointedly not looking at the heirloom item that had started all of this. Seokmin is the first to finish, taking his chipped mug to Soonyoung’s sink and meandering over to you. He leans on the banister to peer over at you. The tea serves to centre and settle your thoughts and Suki slips into the living room for some attention.

“Are you okay?” He says softly; kindly. “What a night!”

You shrug. “I am now. Thank you for coming. I’m sorry for causing you such trouble. This is the second time something has happened.”

His arm awkwardly reaches over and pats your shoulder. “No, not at all. Anything for a friend. As long as you’re safe now.”

Jeonghan is next, coming round to stoop by your knees. His eyes are more droopy than usual but they never waver from you. If he had the energy you were sure he would have crossed his arms or put his fists on his hips. The background noise of the house guests is an added comfort.

“I agree.”

Somehow, the very sight of him settles you even more, any walls or cautious misgivings crumbling away. He tips his chin and you shuffle over so he can sit next to you by the wall. His knees go up comically high with how low he sits. But instantly, his arm is around you, humming and patting.

“There we are. We should get you home soon, hmm?”

You nod and let Seokmin pull you to your feet. You squeeze his hand and look for a long moment at Jeonghan. “It happened again. Something from Haeun. She brought it from Aria.”

You’re thankful that Jeonghan is whip-smart - not that you’d ever admit it to his face - and can read between the lines. He smooths your stray hair down, fluffing the ends of it. He has that funny look on his face again, the same one he had before the spell when you had mentioned her and you physically bite your tongue, regretting even voicing your half-thoughts. Seokmin is too busy guiding you through the cluttered hallway of shoes and various items they had all brought with them, dumped unceremoniously. You call short and brisk for Suki and she brings the rest of your friends with her as they cram into the doorway. They look ridiculous, all wide, patient eyes watching you.

“I-I’m going to head out. So I’ll take the -”

Soonyoung’s eyes crease and he quickly scoops up the cloth and brooch, throwing it over his shoulder into the burning fireplace. The fire twists a brief cobalt blue before settling, the cotton and metal smouldering to nothing. It should put things to rest, but thoughts linger, like floating particles in water.

“No, you aren’t. I would never make anyone carry a cursed artefact. Y/Nnie, go home. Me, Seokmin and ‘Shua will clean up.”

Mingyu’s wide frame breaks free and meets you at the front door so you’re wedged in by Jeonghan on one side, and the kitchenmaster on the other. You give everyone brief goodbyes as you're escorted out the house and onto the hill. You didn’t do anything but you don��t have the effort to be part of the empty conversation going on over your head. The pair of them lead you upstairs and Jeonghan waits outside while you get changed and settle for bed. You have no shame as he moves about the room, murmuring some spells over windows and any kind of door including your wardrobe. Suki steers clear of the windowsill where the Spellmaster sets up Joshua’s cluster of stones. The moonlight that streams in seems to glow whiter than before the quartz was there, like filtering dirt and evil. Even with his sluggish movements, Jeonghan even tucks you into bed, patting the blankets down over you!

His hand stills on the folded edge as he seems to look past you. “Angel, if anything else happens, we will need to talk. You aren’t safe anymore.”

You try to sit up, but with how tightly he has you wrapped, it’s not possible. “What do you mean by that?”

“Once is a coincidence, twice is a maybe. Three times? Someone wants to hurt you.” His tone is devoid of the initial bravado or sweet warmth you’ve always known from him.

“Jeonghan, the only changed catalyst since I’ve been here is Haeun. I’m scared she has something to do with it. But I haven’t done anything to her - she’s just a rude girl from Aria.”

Your turn of phrase doesn’t lighten his demeanour. But he says nothing else, instead, smoothing the covers down one more time and giving Suki a scratch behind the ear before turning out the light.

“Goodnight, Angel.”

Jeonghan is around far more than not now, as is Soonyoung who brings a life to your space that you appreciated in the short bursts he gave. There is a brightness and innocence to the energy he gives, always coming from a place of good - even as he grumbles when you use that boundless energy of his to rearrange the study. You aren’t sure how Jeonghan manages to hang around so often, especially between his jobs. If anything, they should be building with the near change of the season. But he even escorts you to your various deliveries and supply pickups from Eugene. He doesn’t say why, only that he “always has time for you, Angel.” Which you partially expect with your curse, but his world should not revolve around you.

It’s one of these various trips that Haeun tacks herself onto, drifting out of the tea house and sweetly calling Jeonghan’s name. She struggles a little to catch up but hums and smiles.

“Thank goodness. I haven’t seen you for such a long time. May I accompany you? Oh, Madam Y/N. You are out today as well?”

What in the - you had both walked past the window together! You simper over your shoulder at her.

“Correct. As long as we are not disrupting any prior engagement of yours.”

She tuts and shakes her head while Jeonghan has an eerily still look about him, his head slanted and eyes slightly squinted. His gaze is intense and disarming so you have no idea how she is managing to act so blithe under its beam. The plan now is to head back to Mingyu’s with a supply pick up and you wished she wasn’t accompanying the three of you to no doubt insert herself into her place in your study. No point arguing it now. Conversation is stilted and awkward as you personally struggle to maintain politeness. Suki has gestured to something for Jeonghan and he humours her, dawdling to a shop window she arches up to. A sharp shriek from Haeun cuts through you, right in your ear and you pause to turn at the drama. You don’t get to eye her when she cries out again in vague distress and leaps backwards, knocking you backwards over the edge of the sidewalk.

The tram is the only mode of transport along this road, horse and buggies no longer allowed due to the… smell, so usually you would be able to right yourself, dust off and scold the flighty young woman with time to spare. But the trolley cars were running late, almost front to tail. All you can hear is the persistent dinging of the trolley car rolling down the hill, signalling disaster. Haeun is still muttering and whining, her hands over her face and her pretty button up boots standing on your own skirt so you can’t move. Jeonghan yells, high and thin and while you’re struggling to move as close to the sidewalk as you can, he drops all your supplies and nudges the girl out the way. Her feet tangle and her eyes fly wide as she almost hits a store window - by Merlin you all must look like a slapstick skit. The ringing bell is deafening now and the Spellmaster stoops over to effortlessly scoop you up and onto the walkway, both arms wrapped tightly around you to tuck you against his chest. You can hear his heart flutter and his breath heave loudly over you. The tram rattles past, the passenger chatter an inaudible blur.

“Good Morgana, that was close. Y/N, are you well?” He mutters, leaning back just enough to eye you.

You nod. “Yes, thank you. I don’t know what happened, I - Haeun?”

You carefully unfurl yourself from the blonde, peering around to the young woman, tears dried on her cheeks. Suki stands between the pair of you, wide stance and glaring.

“Haeun, what’s going on?” You say sternly.

She sniffles and shakes her head, trying to almost bury her face under her hat like a child. Jeonghan’s hands fall protectively to your shoulder and the small of your spine, over the knot of your apron.

“Goodness, I’m so sorry! Only I - it was just here?”

“What was?” You press, scowling.

“The-the Kaononai. It came out from that bookstore. Oh it was so scary!” She cried out, her hands already reaching for her face.

You glanced down to Suki who hadn’t let Haeun out of her sight. “Suki, did you see it?”

Her tail flickered, as did her left ear, but no response - something to discuss when you both got back to the studio.

“Haeun, you need to be careful.” Jeonghan says, careful yet firm.

She pouts and goes a little cold, her fists bunching tightly so they turn pale. Suki’s tail has fluffed up and you make a point of looking around for anything dangerous. The only being that could cause trouble is Haeun at this second.

“Me, be careful? Jeonghan, if I was right and the Kaononai was really here, we would all be dead by now from it.” She says low - it’s the most threatening thing you’ve heard from her and sounds nothing like the obnoxious innocent little mortal from Aria that has been shadowing your group since the day she arrived.

His grip tightens on you. “Y/n certainly would be - she doesn’t have magical offensive skills and your panicked dancing could have killed her before the Kaononai got to any of us. Besides, Suki is a very well attuned animal and would have sensed it long before you.”

She glares down at your familiar, going beet red in the face - you could have sworn you saw steam billow from her little ears. It’s a miracle that no one else has shown up on your part of the street, even as onlookers on the other side of the street pass. Suki’s eyes glow and somehow, you’re touched by her fierce show of protection. She’s never done something like that for you in all your years of tethered companionship.

“Suki, shhhh.” You say, repeating it till she had taken a step back. You level a look at Haeun. “I think you ought to go back to your lodgings and lie down. It’s all been a bit much for you today. Good bye, Haeun.”

You don’t leave any room for argument with your patronising tone – you really couldn’t keep it to yourself, no matter how much you should have tried - and Jeonghan seems to take a hint, collecting everything from the pavement. He tips his head in a silent sulk her way and turns on the heel of his boot to follow you with Suki proudly leading. You leave her on the street and while you don’t regret it, something ice cold and viscous seeps down your spine.

Jeonghan guides you home startlingly somber, and drops your things in the study when he asks for the key while depositing you in Mingyu’s front living room. It’s a warm space of neutral cream shades and comforting textures and fabrics. The main window oversees the front garden, private enough thanks to the fence and the artfully placed rose trees - less so bushes from the way they grew upwards. Suki claims the space next to Aji, both little furballs feeding off one another’s warmth. Jeonghan returns with a glass of water for each of you and deposits it on a dated doily.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You can say no.” He says soft and firm, dark eyes settled on you.

You nod your head. “I’m a bit shaken, but fine.”

You have too much to do to be shaken. Jeonghan has now insisted on staying with you in your study, not hiding the fact he wants to keep an eye on you. He’s managed to simmer down much faster than you have from the events. A surprise with how riled up he was right after - he didn’t fight your cold dismissal of her either. You hiss as you prick your finger on the needle - usually hand sewing, as tedious as it was, could be soothing. It was one thing to focus on, those back and forth motions of the thread therapeutic. But not when you mind has way too much going on. You couldn’t quite sweep it all away with the repetition. You swear under your breath when you do it again, not a few moments later. Jeonghan looks up from his papers, a millimetre of concern between his brows.

“Are you okay? You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Maybe you should take a break.” He hums.

You scoff. “Don’t be silly. I have three things due in the next week, I can’t really afford to take a breather. It’s this or go stir crazy here.”

He slants his head, his blonde strands glowing, again. “Like what?”

Jeonghan eases over on his stool, careful not to catch his cloak under its foot. You sigh and fold away the shirt you were working on for Joshua - he wanted something lightweight for the warm weather and you were more than happy to accommodate as much as he was willing to pay.

“I...It’s okay. Something for another day.” Your smile wanes.

“Don't be silly, Angel. I want to hear about it - it’s making you wrinkle.” He says as compensation.

You tip your head back to laugh. Of course that’s why he wants to hear - because it’s interfering with his research and studies of you. Another variable that needs taking care of. Sure, you’ll humour him.

“It needs to be kept quiet - I don’t want our friends getting all funny. Not to mention, we have been meaning to have a chat about it.” He mimes twisting a key over his lips and tossing it over his shoulder. “I’m a little weary of Haeun. Something doesn’t feel right. From the moment we met her, all that’s happened is trouble. She feels like some kind of bad omen. I don’t want to think that of her, but I can’t help it when hiccup after hiccup has happened. The cauldron, almost getting run over, the Phantoms? I don’t like it - her. But I also don’t want to look as if I am fixating on her unfairly either.” You gnaw on your lip instead of pouting, not a very flattering look for someone of your physical age. The Spellmaster’s frown deepens.

“Hmm, I understand that. And I know you’ve both been butting heads over a lot.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t be shy - everything.”

He laughs, airy like the weather outside. “Fine, over everything.”

“I just worry that there is more going on than we fully understand. If someone should be in danger, shouldn’t it be you?”

“But instead, this is the third incident that has endangered you since you arrived in Martine. Things that come in threes. Auspicious number – it means something.” He puts his little diary aside, filled with his upcoming commissions and appointments. You know for a fact that the pricing of his talents is the backs pages, well worn by now.

“Unfortunately, I think you’re right. The curse is one thing, all these almosts are another. And she has been involved with them, one way or another. willingly or not. It’s all too much to be coincidence. Please, be careful around her. Sight or not, something is off. I can feel it, with what little magic I have.” You softly argue.

His dark eyes scrutinise you, scanning for something, you’re not sure. Finally, his shoulders relax and he nods, giving in. “Of course, I trust you, Angel. And, besides, I have my own reasons to be wary of her too, thinking about it - she is from Aria. And she has had some part in all of our recent incidents, there is no longer any coincidence or doubt about that. I can’t get too comfortable, in case it all turns on me next.”

You chuckle - It’s easier to breathe now. “Oh yes, right. Fugitive of the law.”

He scowls and you laugh harder, letting him draw back to sulk in the corner. He even turns his back on you! “Leave me alone - don’t you have things to do?”

Haeun doesn’t see you buried in the extensive garden when she leaves Mingyu’s kitchen. You’re taking clippings of this and that, inhaling the intense scent of marigold when you hear her heels hit the brick flooring. The end of her voice still carries as she heaves a sigh, weighing at her delicate shoulders. The roll of her eyes is unexpected nor attractive on her doll-like face. It sits unfocused in your eyes as you squint and blink away the haze that clouds her figure. It flickers as she looks down to check her purse and you wobble on the balls of your feet, falling into the garden. Her eyes, a shocking forest green - the colour only found in the royal bloodline of Aria. Haeun’s hair is now a mousey brown in long waves. Haeun is really the princess of Aria. The scent of roses, heady and thick in her wake. Her opinion of the wizard inquisition - she was in charge of it. It was alarming how much of it made sense. As you fumble to right yourself in the dirt, your mind reels. Why hasn’t she attacked Jeonghan yet? Haeun has been in Martine for a good few months and the only one who’s had trouble since she’s shown up is you. But Jeonghan has never actually been left alone with her since he arrived in Martine. Maybe not as silly as you thought then. You feel wiry hands grip you standing. Haeun - Seoyun is in front of you, dusting you down.

“Madam Y/N, are you okay? I didn’t see you there, you’re so quiet!” She says.

The smell of roses is making you dizzy, now you’re close to her. She scoops up your clippers, dropping them into your apron. She guides you to the garden seating, pushing on your shoulders to encourage you. Her frown sits heavy on her brow while your stomach churns. The princess fluffs at your grey hair, shaking it of leaves and dirt.

“You really don’t look well - you’ve gone so pale. Stay here and I’ll find someone to fetch you. Okay?”

You hum out a response and she nods, dashing inside like a gazelle. You’re too shocked to do much else. Mingyu is running back out in a heartbeat, kneeling before you. His kind eyes search yours for anything. His big hands rub at yours, limp in your lap.

“Are you okay? Can you see?” He prattles off questions endlessly.

It’s only as you see her dress in the corner of your eye that you pull him in, whispering quickly, “get Haeun out of here and call for Jeonghan, now.”

“Thank you so much for taking care of Y/N. I’ve got it now. Will we still see you Thursday evening?” He says, hand at the small of her back. You can see the confusion and protest lining his lips and you scowl wordlessly. He nods, standing to turn to Haeun.

His tall figure leads her down the path out to the main entry. She looks over her shoulder in confusion, but still responds to him as they disappear from view. You lay your head forward on the cool painted metal of the table. You don’t know how long it takes but there is a cool hand curled around the junction of bare skin where shoulder curved to pulse, thumb stroking idle circles.

“You called?”

Finally, you lift your head to eye the Spellmaster. No doubt you have swirling indents on your forehead from pressing your face into the metal, but no matter. “I was right about Haeun. She’s not just bad news. She’s the reason for everything from the last six months. She’s the princess.”

The concern from Jeonghan’s face melts away and leaves him pasty and pale, eyes unseeing.

You barrel on, quietly, as if for fear she could catch you out. “She’s got a glamour on, really strong. Weaker on females though - she’s hiding from men because she wants to catch one. You. That’s why she’s been hanging around. She’s been trying to corner you for months. But you’ve never been alone with her.”

“I - Haeun is Princess Seoyun? Why didn’t… she’s an extraordinary witch, and can easily best most of us here at once. Why didn’t she just attack us and then deal with me?”

You shrug. “No idea? Too much of a scene? All of us are well respected here in Martine. It would be hard to be rid of any of us without drawing suspicion.”

He clutches both of your hands too tightly as he bows over you, as if holding on for dear life. Everything is shadowed about him. “So, what do we do now?”

“Neither of us can be left alone until we work out what to do with her. We need to protect ourselves first. So we need to let the others know. If we know anyone else, we should ask if they can help. It’s the entire crux of the wizard persecution at stake.” It’s unspoken that your side will not be called to arms. That means facing things you didn’t have time for. Jeonghan nods.

“Us against the kingdom of Aria, hmm Angel?” He smirks limply.

You roll your eyes. “Something like that. C’mon, better fill Mingyu in.”

It’s the earnest way you ask Mingyu to call in every favour or magical contact in Martine for a meeting at his place that seems to ring the severity of the situation home. Everything about Mingyu’s place was warm and safe and inviting. A levity about it that melted away when you reached across the benchtop to lay a hand over his as he cooked dinner.

You squeeze his free hand and stare him down as you say, “do not under any circumstances tell Haeun that this is happening. She must not suspect anything out of the ordinary or try to invite herself. This is for magic users only.”

He frowns but nods. “Of course. I think a few friends are passing through in a day or two from across the sea.”

“The more hands the better.”

Mingyu sends out magical mail from his fireplace that night to Soonyoung, Seokmin and Joshua, the ashes turning lime green in the fire and the smoke seeming to twist with an underlying life. Then another flash from the fire in a cobalt-ocean blue. You lean closer.

“Wow, who was that for?” You mutter from your place on the bowing sofa.

He pokes at the embers to drown them out. “A few friends from out of town - a Spellmaster named Boo Seungkwan and a caster called Lee Chan. Chan is only a Class C wizard, but he’s currently travelling for his Class B examinations so he’s pretty much passed. He’s one of the smartest guys I know - quick learner and good at anything he picks up. Actually! Last I heard he was currently out west seeking guidance from the only Shieldmaster known, Choi Seungcheol, first of his name.”

Your mouth rounds. You had vaguely heard of him - specialised in all manner of strength and protection magic. No one had specialised in it like him before. Moments later two flashes of green and a blast of blue spark in the base of the fireplace before settling at the edge of the hearth. They settled on three scraps of parchment. Mingyu stoops over to scan them. Suki has parked herself by the embers, soaking up what little warmth is left.

“Soonyoung and ‘Shua are coming, of course. Chan is still up country with Seungcheol.” Mingyu’s brows raise. “Now he would have been good to have.”

The next evening, Mingyu makes double his usual amount of food, seeing as there would be seven mouths in total crammed around his round dining table. Jeonghan had been with you all day, refusing to leave you alone. Neither of you were sure why you had become the target here if Jeonghan was supposedly the one at fault. Only that it was there to scare as much as it was to hurt you. It was odd how much the both of you were so right.

“Otherwise,” you scowl, “she could have finished me off at any time. She’s one of the most powerful magic users known by The Council. Ugh, it’s like playing with your food before you eat it.”

That notion has you quickly, stuffing food in your mouth to refute it with yourself. Surely Mingyu’s heartfelt meal would be distracting. Seungkwan was instantly very righteous and vocal, swearing to protect and agree with whatever it took to keep the pair of you protected. A rotating roster was easily set up to keep someone with you at all times. It didn’t make you happy, having to be guarded and helpless, but such was your current ability to protect yourself. Jeonghan’s eyes don’t leave you for very long and you try to be mature and not read into it, even as his knee bumps yours.

It felt like a long, slow limbo state, full of tension that sat in your shoulder blades you couldn’t shake. Not even Minji’s bustling plans and back-to-back appointments could distract you. Your friends aren’t the best liars, especially Seokmin, which certainly tells her implicitly that circumstances have changed. You’ve been deposited at the apothecary today as part of the roster, sat in the warm space under crystal clear sunlight as you work on a thank you gift for Seungkwan for coming into town just for you. Seokmin is making a batch of your tonic when he gives you a guilty expression, pinned with his lips worried between his teeth.

“She came by yesterday.” He says quietly.

Your needle goes still. “Oh, did she?”

“Hmmm. Asked for rosehip and some northern cinnamon. I said I didn’t have either in stock…then she pointed to the cinnamon right by my head. And the dried rosehip in my hand.” He goes tomato red and cringes over the pot. “She left after, really quiet.”

You can’t help but laugh, swinging back on your chair. It’s a laugh bordering on hysteria. “Ah, Seokminnie, you tried. It’s alright.” You sigh. “It just might mean she’s got a clue something is up. I mean, we know Soonyoung has been avoiding Haeun like the plague because he can’t hide his facial expressions. And ‘Gyu has locked the side gate.”

The sweet potionsmaster still pouts a little. “I’m just, worried.”

You rise and meet him at his weathered wooden bench, leaning your head on his shoulder. The tonic was clear at this point, having boiled and distilled for so long, past the grassiness of the herbs and sweet jamminess of the rosehip. It was still a little thick, so you pass Seokmin a glass of moonwater.

“I know. But we’re doing all we can - we don’t know her well enough to plan any other moves.” The words taste chemical and bitter with how unsure you were.

A week goes by and finally both yourself and Jeonghan have a shared roster - by Merlin, it sounds so boring. Soonyoung had gotten in the way yesterday during a commission and was back at home, nursing a pair of missing eyebrows. Jeonghan was haughty upon entry of the study, insisting that it was his own fault for dancing like a b-rate ballerina. As if a trap had been triggered, a yellow-orange spark appeared in the air between you, swirling open a portal. An envelope in peacock green hung in the air before dropping as the portal closed. The corner drops on Suki’s head with a petulant yowl. Jeonghan’s wand is out in an instant, aimed at the door, then the window.

“That sorceress.” He hisses.

You stoop to open it up, hearing Jeonghan squeak in protest. His name is at the top so you hand it off to him. “Oh hush, it’s for you anyway.”

His sleepy eyes scan the heavy paper and you watch them turn to stone. His fist crumples the paper to the point of ripping and you rush to ease it from his grip. Jeonghan isn’t a violent person as far as you know.

“It’s a threat. To hand myself over to her.” His gaze settles on you, grasp twisting from the note to your own hand. “Otherwise, you’ll get hurt. Like she has already tried before.”

Damn propriety - you step closer so Suki is forced to move and your toes of your shoes almost touch. “You’re not going to do that, are you? Jeonghan, she’ll kill you, or something worse.”

He’s quiet and you don’t trust him as far as you could throw him. So, you take the note and turn on your heel to your desk, tossing the letter away before he can ruminate on it longer. Today, he stays out of the sun, claiming the stool by the wall instead, just watching you. It usually annoys you, but at least if he’s watching you, he’s still here. By the time sunset hits and Joshua shows up with his soft feline smile to escort Jeonghan home, you’re even more on edge, the thought of Mingyu’s tea the only possible soother to your worry. Jeonghan is taking some time to fuss over Suki and Aji in the kitchen when you grab Joshua’s wrist, yanking him up to your level in the doorway to the courtyard.

“Please keep an eye on him. More than one of you. Haeun sent a letter to him today, threatening him to turn in or risk me. He didn’t answer me after that.” You wring his wrist with your fingers, as if it were your own instead. “I want him to be safe, especially after all he’s done for me.”

Joshua hums softly and nods. “Of course, Y/N. We’ll go round to Soonyoung’s tomorrow then.”

On Mingyu’s turn babysitting you, he locks up your study for the day and sends another note in the fireplace to Minji to delay your appointment by a day or two under the guise of supply shortage. The B&B is now quieter, autumn being the off-season. He’s repainting the front fence and has you checking bedding and towels for any moth damage. It has you in and out of the house so Mingyu can keep an eye on you. Once that was done, he had a stool in the front garden at the ready under an umbrella. You wished there was a way to stave off that upcoming boredom somehow. With everything confirmed to be moth-free – you had even refilled the mothballs, breathing through your mouth to avoid the strong scent – you turn the hall to smell the tell-tale scent of electricity in the air, sparks and cracks meeting your ears. It’s a slow jog to the courtyard and you find Haeun casting something, casting shadows dark and long.

“H-Haeun. What are you doing?” You call quietly from the doorway.

She turns to you, her glamour all but fallen away with the strength of her casting. Now green eyes meet you and burn, a manic edge to her lips.

“Ah, just the person of the hour. Come here.” You hesitate, still confused - the actions have all been proven, but not the motive. Her wand waves at you too casually. “Here!”

You stumble out with the magical force, looking down the pathway. “Where’s Mingyu?”

She shrugged. “Gullible dear - fooled him into thinking there was an attack on Jeonghan. Especially after yesterday’s little scare. The gate has been enchanted. I won’t need to stall that long, if you do as you’re told.”

Even your own shadow has been cast long, despite the clear weather. There is a wicker basket weaving itself with vines and roots. Black and red candles, obsidian and amethyst. Rust nails and something ugly and pickled. This was a vicious spell.

“So you baited them? He didn’t even have a chance to think about what he wanted to do?” You protest.

“Of course not. He has had months to do it. Those little scares should have been enough - he’s supposed to be smart. The most cunning member of the Aria Royal Artists Guild, apparently.” She almost sings and this voice feels more natural to you. No all-knowing simper that gave you whiplash.

“Haeun - no, Seoyun. What do you want.” You say, the fear fading from your voice, only left with caution.

“Your heart.” She shrugs simply.

Somehow, she is not surprised at your knowledge in the reveal. No dramatic announcement or offended gasp. So shameless, you think disapprovingly. The basket is placed on the ground, candles and crystals surrounding. The candles’ smoke swirls restlessly into the air and there is a putrid scent overtaking all else. She wants to catch it.

“Why? You have one - Jeonghan never took it in the first place - that was just some rumour of the court.”

“So? Yours is unbroken. You have the one he wants - why he wants your old, shrivelled up thing is beyond me, not to mention highly improper. I mean, a real step down in my perspective.” She makes a flourishing gesture at herself. “But you are to his taste, so I want it. If I have yours, I have his - ugh why do I have to spell everything out for you?” Seoyun rolls her eyes.

“I don’t know - why do you keep answering?” You grumble.

You startle though as she pulls out a bloody lamb’s heart from the depths of her purse, holding it aloft, the dagger in her left hand making you squint from the glare. She drops it with a sickening splat in the basket. The dagger stays though as she advances on you. You look around for something - someone - anything - until your back aches against the door frame. Suki yowls and rushes into the courtyard.

“Suki, go! Get away!” You command - you didn’t want her getting hurt.

And maybe she could get out of here for help. Suki’s claws clatter and fade down the hall. From her skirts Seoyun pulls out a corked vial, empty for the minute. She slices her own hand, red dribbling down her pale skin into the glass. She gestures for your own hand, jerky and severe. You hold it out limply in between you so she can yank it toward her. Instead, she initially bypasses it and yanks for your hair, held back in a severe, business-like braid. As you cry out sharply, her grip on her blade switches and she smoothly arches up and slices it off. Pocketing the hair, she twists your slack hand to her liking. You hiss and whine as the used blade cuts into your fragile palm. She squeezes and prods until she gets what she wants and you continue to whimper in pain. Seoyun tosses your hand away after that, marching over to her materials. You’re honestly a little curious as to how she is going to do it, so as much as you know the danger, you stay to watch while pressing your hand in your apron to stop the bleeding. The blood is dripping into the basket with the heart and suddenly she holds the dagger downwards.

“You have a heart, I could use that. What’s yours is now mine. Love, loss, man. This heart, tied to another’s, Give this power to me.”

It feels like twine has been twisted and looped through your chest, tightening, everything seeming to go tunnel vision on the glinting metal. A sound like shattering glass. Then a crack by your ear and the blade goes flying. Another and the spell is scattered, candles rolling into the garden bed and the butchered organ making another splat to the stones. Jeonghan braces himself, breathless, around you. His eyes fall to your bloody and wrinkled palm.

“What did she do to you?” He hisses.

“Shhh, just a cut.” You say through the sting.

Jeonghan scowls darkly and cradles your hand, running his thumb over it and murmuring a spell that seals the wound. You’re finally given a moment to breathe, with the princess’ spell broken and the squeeze from your heart relaxed.

He draws himself up and turns to put you in his slender shadow, asking again. “What did she do?”

“Tried to bind and take my heart.” You’re still a little too shy to say why.

She laughs now in surprise and over his shoulder she grins. It’s not hard to see her plan forming before you as she flicks a spell at him, the air turning hot and strong in the courtyard from her fury. Her power turns red, electric and vicious - it puts static in her hair. Jeonghan, though, steps flawlessly in front of you, bracing his forearm up and disarming it. The force is so strong though that it sends you both skidding back, what little strength you had before gone. Your legs wobble, forcing you to your knees, a wilt. They begin to duel, the smell of burnt electricity suffocating, smoke beginning to swirl. It looks like Jeonghan is gaining. Until she starts talking, her eyes glowing a sickening green.

“You lied to me, Jeonghan! Said you loved me! You string me along for my power, my status, even my money! You thought I was pretty until something prettier came along. Now look at you. Infatuated with some old hag, defending yourself from one of the best Masters in the world. You’re not doing very well.” Her lips curl up in a smug grin. “Left yourself wide open.”

She sneers as she lifts her free hand at you. You can already see it coming. You can defend yourself from it easily. So, as you brace yourself to stand, Jeonghan twists his wrist sharply to break the connection between himself and Seoyun and leaps to take your hit. The surge of animated smoke flies, flinging him into the wall behind you. He slides to the ground with a low groan, squinting his eyes at the princess. Now he’s physically vulnerable, she steps closer and closer as Seoyun lays into him, finishing him off with a psychic attack, a burst of pretty pink popping limp from his chest. He’s out of magic. She seems to love kicking a beaten horse when it’s down as shards of debris rise from the pavement and glow red and green – a toxic swirl of colour – to rain on the two of you. You make your way to him to shrink her catchment zone. It’s instinct how you want to whip your old wand out from your apron. Instead, you say the spell straight, a lot riskier and more unrefined. It does the job though as a dark metallic grey blooms to shield the two of you from most of it. A rock clips your shoulder and tips you forward. The princess’s eyes widen in manic surprise before she smirks triumphantly as you hobble over the rest of the way to scoop up Jeonghan's prone frame. He kind of smoulders, burning hot to the touch and his eyes unfocused and hazy.

"Jeonghan, can you hear me?" You call, patting his cheek.

Long lashes flutter as his head lolls to face you. He smiles. "Yeah, I'm still here."

"Can you - can you get up? On your own?"

He nods and braces himself on the wall, swaying. You carefully let him go, stepping back. His eyes fly wide as he collapses, hacking a heavy cough. His skin glows a sickly green. You can't catch him fast enough this time and you cringe at the heavy thud he makes.

"Maybe not. You should probably get out of here. Go find Mingyu and Seok." He groans.

You shoot a glare over your shoulder as the princess inches closer and you position yourself in front of him in a weak shield. Your thin hands brush his dull blonde fringe from his eyes. They have a halo of green around the irises that sets your gut off and you gnaw on your lip.

"Yeah, but what will she do to you?" You hiss.

"Probably take me back to her father. Maybe...hang me?" He rasps out and you gasp.

You can't stop your grip from tightening in his hair and he flinches limply. "So I won't make it back in time to do anything, will I? Jeonghan."

He doesn't reply, only looks at you with a deep fondness you hate. You can't leave him here, alone and vulnerable to a witch like her. Someone with too much vengeance in their power. You can feel her glare as you pull out a pen you had in your apron from Seokmin's desk. Quickly, you draw a few healing and shield charms over his skin, watching the glow fade into a pasty and clammy shade stuck to his skin.

"Move, hag. You are no longer my concern." She says haughtily. “The bait has suddenly served its purpose. I have you right where I want you, hmm.”

You hate the lack of respect she gives you, whether you are old or not. If he can't do anything... You yank his wand from his grasp and turn to face her. You can hear your back crack as you stand to your full height. The weight of Jeonghan's wand in your hand is equally familiar in your posture but different in the fact that it isn't your own - the wooden curves and ridges suited to his style. Just something to shield, you remind yourself. There wasn't much you could do but stall and wait it out. Hopefully the others would catch on and come in for reinforcements…through the back door. Soon.

"Surely you don't need to hurt him anymore. He didn't mean it. Jeonghan isn't like that." You protest gently, casting as you speak.

Another soft, rippling shield fans out in front of you and she steps closer, lip curled. "You act like you know him! He's a devilish warlock. I'll only ask once more. Move aside - now that I have him, I’ve no want to hurt you. Don't talk about what you don't know and let me deal with him, hag."

Hag this and hag that! You didn't look that bad! And how dare she call Jeonghan a warlock, a magic user of evil. Between his sweet, sleepy gaze and his dedication to you alone, he’s the furthest from evil. The princess shrugs helplessly and starts firing off spells when you don't respond to her. You’re quick to sling up another, more combat-suited shield to protect the two of you. You try not to let your surprise show - that has been the most powerful thing you could cast so far. Her brows raised in interest but nothing else was said from her. You step closer, finally dropping the shield and firing off your own spells with a deft flick of Jeonghan's wand, swiftly building in strength and speed. Sparks crackled in the air, flying into the brickwork and burning smoke grey shapes.

"Do you know who this old hag is?" You snarl.

She's a challenge but nothing you can't handle, being from such an old, powerful family. You had been taught well even with your current fallacy. Despite the odd weight distributed by your body, your stance is planted strong. Oddly enough, you can barely feel it.

She shakes her head, finally unsure of herself. The crease to her pretty brow is satisfying. "Nobody."

"Wrong. I am a descendant of the best Spellmistress in the land and sea. I am a Spellmistress strong enough to bind you."

Your head is tilted back as you perform the spell down your nose, murmuring low and fast under your breath. Vines from the walls shoot out to twist her into submission, her wand clattering to the brick floor. A moment of blinding light and a hot, burning sensation rips through the space and distracts you enough to flinch, but not much more, still steadfast in the middle of your spell. The spell you were casting didn't usually do that... Wand aimed at her, you don't bother to focus on Jeonghan. If you bind her, maybe her own spell will break. Her eyes bulge comically and she splutters and gapes like a fish, probably from shock at the trick you pull. You can hear a shifting and a soft groan behind you. Holding the princess in place, you glance over your shoulder to see the Spellmaster crawl to stand, leant heavily on the brick wall. His eyes are large, but still have a sheen of green shining over them with the light that streams in.

"Jeonghan, if you can, get two empty jars from Mingyu's shelf. I'll separate her magic and make her a more...manageable size." You say, your newly claimed wand is still weaving your spell. He rocks to stand freely but doesn’t move anymore, still staring. “Jeonghan, now!”

You cast again, watching the vines tighten and shrink her, like squeezing water from cotton. She finally seems to find her voice, gasping and yelling a chant which is easily silenced with a magic laden word. You suck in a breath, holding it for a moment to centre yourself again before yelling a sharp chant to separate the princess from her core. A small marble sized shape hangs in the air, glowing a pulsing green, dark and fierce. Obviously, her emotions had gotten to her core - no wonder Jeonghan was a sickly green colour. You can hear him hop down from the step next to you and flicking your wrists inwards, you drop the minute princess in one jar and her glowing core in the other. He hastily secures lids onto them, while you're murmuring a shield spell over the two of them. It wasn't strong, but it didn't have to be with their sizes.

"Well, that's that. Let's get you ready and we'll get you on your way to clear your name, shall we?"

"W-wait."

You turn in the hall, pushing the jars on the bench. You've changed the princess's lid for a piece of cloth, so she can breathe. You can see her yelling at you, shaking the jar as she hits the glass with her fists.

"Hmm?"

He grabs your hand. "Go look in a mirror."

You roll your eyes, tugging your hand free to glare at him. "Wow, way to add insult to injury. No thank you, no nothing. Just a reminder of my appearance. It’s not like I cast magic, just for you to save your life."

Jeonghan glares back in return, surprisingly sharp, grabbing your hand again and pulling you down the hall to the bathroom. Suki has since slunk out from the living room, jumping sky high at the sight of you. Obviously didn’t bother looking for help. Damn cat. Jeonghan stands behind you as he manhandles you in front of the mirror. You gasp, reaching up to touch your face. You appeared your age again. No wrinkles, no bony hands. You smile, blindingly so as Jeonghan does the same.

"I'm...I'm me again. I'm..."

"Beautiful. But I already knew that." He says.

You chuckle. "Liar."

His brows shoot up. "No, really! I've seen you like this before. When the first one was lifted. Well, except…”

Your hair. It hadn’t turned back to its former colour before the curse. But instead of the wiry, dull white-grey, it’s vibrant, short and almost metallic, glowing like…

He runs his fingers through the uneven ends Seoyun cut. “It’s just like starlight.” The hand on your shoulder goes to hold your cheek, his sweet smile seeming to melt you a little.

You hear a strangled cry of shock and the soft slam of a door. You cringe - Mingyu must be home. The two of you rush out to the courtyard to meet up with him. He turns to look at you, his own wand – his kitchen spoon, of course – brandished and expression more furious than you even thought possible.

"What th- oh my goodness! Y/N! Your curse is broken! How?" He drops his things at his feet rushing to meet you. You hold out your arms as he comes crashing into you, rocking the two of you unsteadily. His laughter is loud and muffled in your ear.

“Hey. Uh, well. Kind of a weird story. But the princess of Aria is in a jam jar on your kitchen bench and I shrank her to help Jeonghan out. But we’ll need to take her back to the Aria court and plead Jeonghan’s innocence.” You pull back and shrug, shy.

You’re not used to the strength in your bones, the life curling in your hair. Jeonghan, in the meantime, has cast the courtyard back into its former state, garden table and all. You feel anew, the magic thrumming through your veins, your breath sweet and easy. Everything around you seems alive and restless. Mingyu marvels at you as well, giving you another not so light squeeze.

“That’s, uh, amazing. I’m so glad you’re okay! When I got to the apothecary, Seokmin almost chewed me to bits for leaving you behind.” He glanced at Jeonghan, who had picked up Suki in the hallway. “I - how did you know?”

The blonde shrugged. “I didn’t. Not until Suki here came out into the street. She’s never alone. Soonyoung couldn’t hold me back, even if he knew.”

Suki purrs, a loud rumble, quite impressed with herself. You’re grudgingly glad she actually listened for once, after all. You crouch to her level and reach out to give her a thorough pat and tail scratches in thanks. Jeonghan glances at you, going sober.

“We’ll need to leave as soon as we can to get Seoyun back to Aria and end this mess. It’s not right for our kind to be persecuted over the delusions of a young witch such as herself. She’s used her privilege so irresponsibly.” He tuts.

You’ve rarely seen Jeonghan so serious. You detach yourself from Mingyu. “Go back to yours, and collect what you need. I’ll watch the princess, now I’ve got my magic back in full. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready. My commissions are not so urgent that I can’t be away for a few days.”

He smiles warmly. “You’ll come?”

“Of course! I’m not leaving for a while! If you’ll have me.” I whittle off.

Mingyu is watching the two of you like an avid sports match - back and forth in the kitchen. Jeonghan breaches the space between the two of you, a hand resting on your arm, his thumb idly stroking for a moment.

“Yes, yes of course. I’ll need the most powerful witch in town to help plead my case.”

He barely tears himself away before sweeping down the hall and back out the door he entered. You turn to Mingyu, to catch him out but he spins so violently to eye the miniscule princess in her jar. He raises his finger, about to tap on the glass as the princess screams and shakes her hand at him in spelled silence.

“Uh, excuse you. Don’t tap the glass – she isn’t a science specimen.” You scold. He rears up, going pink with guilt. “I’m going to pack a bag with what I can feasibly wear. Can you watch her? Suki, you as well.”

He nods his head. As you turn to the stairs, the young man calls your name.

“Yes, hmm?” You raise your brows in question.

He beams. “Your pictures don’t do you justice.”

Jeonghan and yourself catch the first trolley car you can up the hill to the outskirts of Martine. You swing out near the back door, feeling the afternoon sun and salty wind whip through you. You missed feeling at ease in your own skin. Maybe you would never have gotten used to ageing. Princess Seoyun is in a little picnic basket, napkins and a scarf tucked around her to prevent the jars from cracking.

“How long is it going to take us to get to Aria?” You ask as the two of you hop off at the end of the route, the trolley car stops connecting to a small train station.

Jeonghan has a small suitcase and is also holding your own, insisting on doing so, no matter how much you argue against it. Suki even managed to come with you, perched on your lap.

“Probably at least the rest of the night if we caught the express. If not then by midday tomorrow at the latest.” He gauges. “I just grabbed the first tickets they had.”

The train to Aria is spent with a million marvels and twice as many questions, try as you might to bask in your newfound freedom and youth. The magic that thrums through you feels stronger than before and you’re not sure if it’s because it’s true or that it’s been so long that you’ve been without it that you underestimated it.

“Oh, and we must arrange a new wand for you as soon as possible. You have a family craftsman, I assume?” Jeonghan says, wedged next to you in economy class, the best seats that could be arranged on the fly.

You go quiet at the thought. Your family. You had become so absorbed in your plight and new life in Martine. Now that you were cured of the curse, you could go home. Was home still there, despite the curse being lifted? Or was it irreversible collateral damage? The blonde frowns at your stillness and reaches for your forearm.

“Hey, what’s-”

“I – yes we do. Eight generations in fact. I’ll need to send word once we finish in Aria.” You look away from the changing scenery to the handsome Spellmaster. “Are you ready? We both know that Aria’s royal family are stubborn and arrogant, to put it mildly.”

He startles at your swerving topic but accepts it, sighing. Together you spare a moment to glare at the basket covered and locked on the seat across from you. Suki has a possessive grey paw on it and she’s already been told twice to stop batting at it to the point where it had to be locked away.

“As ready as I can be. But that’s why you’re here. Surely, he’ll listen to you – brightest witch this side of Morgana’s Gate.” He smiles winningly, a warm haze in the setting sun – you don’t remember Aria being this far away.

Your economy train cabin is not the most comfortable - the padding in the seats worn to indented lumps, potential carpet burn from the worn fabric and no curtains on the window. The doors rattle unless something is pressed against them, which is counterproductive for their use. It was not the most ideal conditions to be sleeping in, so for a while, despite how limber your new-old body is, you struggled to get comfortable to even doze. Suki had no troubles, curling up and a purr rumbling to life. The princess has been given some scrap fabric to sleep on like a mouse and the basket covered again. Jeonghan seems content to sit across from you, watching the dark scenery go by. Your body was exhausted though, the fluctuation of magic so soon and extreme wringing you out.

He glances at you, lashes fluttered and shadowy across his face. “Trouble resting?”

You hum. “I just want to sleep for a bit. I can’t even think straight now. But, well, it’s not the most comfortable spot, is it?”

He coos and hums at you like a baby, getting up and sitting on the side closer to the door. His hand reaches up to pat your silvery hair that now glows in the dark - another element that didn’t help. “Awh, my poor angel. Here, rest on me. Take your shoes off.”

The blonde lifts his feet up to show his green and grey striped socks with a soft chuckle. You mirror him, lifting each leg awkwardly so your knee hits your chest, yanking at laces and buttons to toe your sensible shoes off inelegantly with a thump. You wriggle your own stocking covered feet next to his, covered with blue flowers and he snuggles impossibly closer. You aren’t used to such closeness now and you gasp, looking up at him. His fluttery gaze stares patiently in the dim light.

“Sorry. I’m not used to… being close with people. The curse and all.” You say under your breath. He tries to draw back but your own brow crumples and Jeonghan sways back. “Stay though. I - well, I don’t mind if it’s you.”

Trying to pry honest, tender emotion for you is like water from a clogged drainpipe. Jeonghan seems to have the patience for it though as he loops his arm around your shoulders and you tuck yourself into the hollow of his arm. His thumb strokes slow, soothing circles into the sleeve of your blouse and you let yourself be sucked into the motion, going slack and limbless. He softly hums a song you’ve never heard and you struggle to remember where in the royal court he worked, only that his voice was as beautiful as him. Upon arrival into Aria, still a little drowsy and weaving on your feet, you’re stopped by guards at the station entrance. They demand to see identification. The moment Jeonghan pulls out his navy leather identification, you’re both swarmed.

“Magic Caster.” One spits with cornflower blue eyes and honey stubble.

Two guards flank Jeonghan, grappling roughly with each arm. His dark eyes were blown wide and furious on you as you were knocked about in the kerfuffle.

“Leave her be!” He protests.

Suki rears up and hisses next to you and you swoop to pick her up and shush her. You’re all making quite the scene in the old station foyer, all the commotion echoing off the marble flooring and domed ceilings. You try your best to struggle and get closer to the Spellmaster.

“You are arrested under the Imperial Aria Proclamation for treason against the crown. You are to be taken for questioning regarding the curse upon the crown princess and their whereabouts. Anything spoken or performed while in custody may be used against you in judicial proceedings as evidence. You will have your magic bound indefinitely or until proven innocent.” The blue-eyed guard says aloud.

You finally reach Jeonghan and grab the one part of his arm that isn’t occupied. You go still and stern, a pillar against the ebb and flow of the Aria guards. “I’m gonna say it.”

He frowns and limply struggles for some breathing room. “Say what?”

“It’s us! We stole the princess’s heart! We also kidnapped the princess.” You thrust the jar with the Thumbelina-like figure above the heads of the guards. “We demand an audience with the King of Aria, as is our right by Imperial Law.”

The station goes eerily silent from every person in the nearby vicinity. Suki and Jeonghan have mirrored, slack-jawed expressions. Then a riot ensues. Suki is ripped from your arms as is the jar holding the princess. Rough, armoured hands yank you back and forth, thus detaining you as well.

“What have you done?” One soldier mutters loudly.

“I’ll not free her until we have been given an audience with the King. Only the spellcaster can return a witch’s bound powers.” You repeat in return as you’re carried out to the nearest carriage.

Your legs dangle a little as they sway back and forth through the station. Jeonghan’s eyes are on you the entire time, watching intently of every move.

Aria is a bright, vibrant land, fairly flat in terrain. Where Martine uses patchwork cobblestones, uneven but full of character, Aira is laid with smooth stone brick to ensure the masses move easily - they do have a far larger population than Martine, after all. A charcoal grey that absorbs water well and makes the buildings pop with colour. All roads lead to the castle in the centre of the city, behind an inner wall. It used to be a liberal place, known for its talent in the arts and court of expert entertainers, the likes of Jeonghan included - singers, comedians, acrobats, dancers, musicians and so on. After the death of the queen, Seoyun’s mother, it had been a little off-kilter. That was why your family had travelled here when you were a child. To talk some sense into the king. The people of Aria had been walking on eggshells for years. Jeonghan still gapes at you from the bench across from you in the carriage. Obviously not prepared for more than one person to arrest. Not surprising seeing as they’ve questioned almost every Aria witch and wizard according to sources.

“I can’t believe you turned us in.” He says in disbelief.

“What else was I supposed to do? Let you get arrested without a chance? Whatever we would have done next would be weak without the other. We need to do this together.” You rationalise. “Besides, as if I was letting you try and sacrifice yourself to the royal family twice in two days. It’s almost like you have a death wish.”

The guards bracing you both watched the conversation intently, committing it to record for sure. But you had nothing to hide, no point in trying to protect some right that hadn’t been needed at this moment in time. You had faith that this would be resolved with the meeting at the palace. The Aria Royal Palace - Ritornelli Palace. A grand, sprawling building in Baroque-style with the central throne room encased in a large glass dome. It glittered like a jewel on the horizon. Of course, you lot were not paraded through the front gates, instead sent to an eastern entrance, nondescript and almost unbearably tight.

The guard on your left was more abrasive than the one on the right and by some miracle they all barely spoke. Suki was being given a rough time of it as well, flying about in the baskets at your feet, being kicked between guards. With your new found strength, you speak up.

“Hey! Be careful with her. She can’t do anything to you.”

She yowled loudly, the storm cloud of fluff persistent as you were. A different guard, dressed in emerald green marches towards the back of the carriage. This must be the royal guard of the palace - the inner circle, so to say.

“Take them to the Throne Room. The King is expecting them.” he says, before turning on his heels, back the way he came through a sliver of a tunnel.

The halls are low and curved in narrow arches, with enough room to fit two people passing. You’re sure that these must be the servant’s passageways; the highly functioning underbelly of the castle. Finally, you open up into a grand hallway with smooth marbled floors and rich carpets from the southerly countries. This looked familiar, vaguely. A glance at Jeonghan has his eyes roving the space, but you’re not sure what he’s seeing. The grand double doors open without even a creak and reveal the grand throne room. A rainbow of stained glass and exotic designs looks exactly how Aria is famed to be. The King Rodolfo of Aria is a stoic man with a short white beard and glittering golden crown. Stern green eyes bore into the two of you until you’re dragged to a halt in the centre of the space. So this is where his daughter gets it from.

“Ah, Yoon Jeonghan. Back from your grand escape to hand yourself in – with an accomplice.” His haughty gaze hits you in full, mouth twisted unpleasantly. “They’re pretty. Poor thing. With the nerve to summon an audience?”

Why Jeonghan is so quiet worries you. But with your curse broken, by yourself, you have a renewed confidence along with riding the fumes of adrenaline. Bordering on arrogance yourself. Just. As you glance at him briefly, you note his downward chin and the tensity of his muscles. Fear.

“I know my rights.” You barrel on, loud and firm that your voice projects to every corner. “To plead our case. Or else your daughter stays in the jar and I call upon my family.”

Okay, that last bit wasn’t supposed to come out. The Spellmaster whips his head around to gape. “What in Merlin’s name does your family have to-”

“You don’t get to bargain.” The King snarls, cutting you both off and leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees.

You’re on a roll now. “Yes, actually, I do. You aren’t familiar with it, but the spell on your daughter can only be broken by the caster or by death. And you can’t kill us after the scene we made at the station.”

Jeonghan has been forced to his knees, as the primary criminal and seeming the larger threat of the two of you somehow. Even though you’re the one running your mouth. The blonde looks up though, briefly, as if begging you to get on with it, a little bit of your previously possessed cautious sensibility there. How the tables have turned.

So, you arch a brow and tip your chin up at the King. “So, may we?”

King Rodolfo relents. “You may. Only you. Your testimony will determine the wizard Yoon Jeonghan’s fate.”

He gestures twice – once at yourself, the next at the quiet shadows of the room. Suddenly the guards have released you and Suki. Along with that, there are now two simple seats and a small table placed at the bottom of the dais. The princess and her little ball of power are placed atop of it. She’s making gestures at you and you just know that she’s trying every curse under the sun, just to see if any stick.

The King sits in one, so you cautiously claim the other. Now that you’re closer to him, you can see he holds a faint glow, like sunlight from within. His tunic is embroidered with vibrant feather motifs, a parrot red and sea green. Everything about him is fashioned brightly just like his country. Another silent gesture over your shoulder and Jeonghan is hoisted up roughly and pulled to end up on your left again, back on his knees on the mosaic floor.

“Now start from the beginning. Who are you? Who is the witch that defeated the best Spellcaster in Aria?”

Now that the focus has been put on yourself, you glance at Jeonghan who nudges his chin. “Tell him. Please.” He says in a breath.

“I am uh, Y/N, Class A Spellmistress. Daughter of Jisung the Magnificent, Granddaughter to Bora, Grand Spellmistress of the Magic High Council.”

The King’s brows shoot up and he leans in again, as if he can’t see very well.

“You’re a Class A, descendent of the L/N family. One of the oldest magic families in the world. The missing granddaughter.” He says in a hushed tone, oddly calm compared to moments ago.

“I gue- yes.”

“And you’ve been in some seaside town with a known fugitive for how long?”

You hastily put a finger up. “Almost seven months, but! I didn’t know Jeonghan was a fugitive. And I was in the middle of a very private, personal matter, which the crown princess inserted herself into. It all got very tangled and complicated. And private. Not really relevant here.”

He smirks at your fumbling and you shrink in your seat as best you can. Suki rubs against your weak ankles in support from beneath your seat. Meanwhile Jeonghan is agog at this influx of information. Oh right…no one knew who you really were apart from some old cursed lady. You ponder where to actually begin. First meeting you supposed. From that rocky first meeting in your study, to every run-in after. The explosion at Seokmin’s and the shadowy beasts that chased you. Your growing weariness of her every move – Jeonghan’s trust. Every now and again the jar would rattle in defiance, but the king stilled it with a hand.

“I promise I’m not trying to make her a villain, Your Majesty.” You hasten to add at one point. “But her actions don’t make it easy.”

“I am quickly gathering that.” Is all he says. “Continue.”

You’re talking so much that the shadows have changed their angles and Jeonghan has been forced to sit back on his heels, he’s getting tired. Then you explain the final act. Her delusional spell, the battle in Mingyu’s courtyard that ensued. It’s all gotten very tiring.

“Which brought us to the station and then here.” You sigh.

The King has since gone very quiet, bottle green eyes pensive. He looks at his daughter, so small. She’s since given up her protest and escape and now sits at the bottom of the jar in her mended chemise a la Reine, resigned. Elbows on her knees and chin in her palms - maybe you’re imagining it, but even a little red in the face from embarrassment. You wished you could reach for Jeonghan, just for another familiar soul.

“My daughter has caused you quite the…trauma.” He says finally.

You jerk at his turn of phrase. “I – well yes, I suppose that’s one way of putting it. I may have had the tact to lessen the blow and call it trouble – inconvenience?”

He smiles, wane. “Polite of you. But no need. The Crown Princess is unfortunately as immature as feared. I had hoped with time and goals she would ease and grow wiser. Particularly after the passing of her mother, the Queen. Her magic seemed to become her haven and I indulged it. And my own judgement has been clouded by grief and bias. The magic wielders of my land have been persecuted for long enough.”

He levels Jeonghan a look. “With this testimony, I decree Wizard Yoon Jeonghan, Spellmaster Class A, cleared of all charges laid against him by the kingdom of Aria. Your record will be scrubbed of any evidence or investigation. A formal apology will be published and the bounty removed. You will leave this room a free man.”

The guards release him and he springs to his feet, turned toward you, his smile blinding. At the last moment, he thinks better of it, bowing low to the King instead, to bare the blonde crown of his head, his lengthening hair drifting about his chin.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” He says, reverent

The glass jam jar is now jumping and rattling worse than ever, and you can hear the princess’s yelling, although a little indistinct – your silencing spell must be wearing off. The King lays his palm over the lid to press it still.

“And you,” he settles on you, “I decree you cleared of all charges laid against you by the kingdom of Aria. The same steps will apply for yourself as they will for Jeonghan. You are also free.”

The more he speaks, the older he sounds. You know how that feels. Age rushing into your body like a torrential flood. Reminding you of your limits and fallacies. You rise and bow as well, the curtsey you learnt as a child seeming little juvenile right now. Then you leap for Jeonghan, he barely manages to catch you as you squeeze tight as you kick up your ankles.

“We did it. You’re free.” You say into his shoulder.

The Spellmaster’s hand is back in yours the moment you both finish and your gaze trails to the glaringly obvious loose end, now echoing through the hall like niggling background noise.

“I...what will happen to the princess?” You ask.

King Rodolfo’s expression sours. “She will be disciplined accordingly. When she receives her magic back will be up to her and her future behaviour. I’m not pleased in the least with how she has humiliated our kingdom and our family name.”

He gestures again and the chairs, table and this time, the princess are squirrelled away into the shadows. You feel all too exposed all over again, eager to end the meeting and return home. But the royal levels his gaze to the both of you.

“Yet, I am not done. You have both proven your worth as Spellmasters – even bested my daughter, the best in Aria. I offer you both places in my court and seats on the royal magic council for Aria. After this shameful time in our history, we should be eager for fresh eyes and new talent that has our people’s best interests. I can now see that the princess’s actions have left us vulnerable to the whims of the few.”

Your dream, within reach. Not completely what you had in mind, but almost. And with Jeonghan? You turn to him, to find him doing the same, an expression of expectance and some kind of hope in his eyes. You don’t know what for. But you can’t find yourself leaping at the chance like you used to. Before the curse. Before Martine and Jeonghan.

“‘Han, what are you choosing?” You say, turning to face away from the king.

He drops his gaze to the marble mosaic flooring. “I never wanted that. Being in the position I am and working hard where I am is enough. I landed well when I fled the castle. I’m going back to Martine. But if this is something you’ve always wanted? Whatever you choose, I will support you.”

You nod. “Okay.”

Jeonghan bows again. “Thank you for the generous offer, Your Majesty, but I do not feel capable of the task given and I’ll have to decline.”

You see the shift in sight to you and you shake your head with a tentatively growing smile. “I thank you as well. However, this isn’t my home. Martine is. I can’t just leave it all when so much has happened to me and I have unfinished business.”

He pauses to look between you. Suddenly, there is booming laughter as he nods, reclining back in his place. The gold halo appears again and the jewels in his crown scatter fragments of colour through the space and over your feet. You don’t feel as if he has taken offence to your rejection, which you're thankful for - you only just got into his good books. But your grandmother always told you about the library underneath the Aria gardens, stretching for acres. Full of magic resources.

“However, I do have my own request, if you please.” You call, holding a hand up gingerly.

Jeonghan whirls to look at you, but you ignore his pointed look and the miniscule tug on your wrist. Don’t be greedy, he’s saying.

“Open access to the castle’s private magic library, anytime we choose.”

There is a silence of mixed tensity before he nods, swatting idly with a wave of his hand. “I’ll grant your request, small in comparison to what duties you have declined. Thank you again for your service, you are dismissed.”

You beam and bow deeply, twice over before dashing out the door with a giggle. You tug the blonde along with you, Suki weaving about the both of you in joyful zoomies. By the time you have exited the castle - through the front gates this time - you have been given back your belongings and provided safe passage back to Martine as soon as available. There was even another carriage waiting, this time far more luxurious and less utilitarian in style. A guard follows you both, with explicit orders you’d heard in the hall to ensure that the three of you made it safely onto the train without resistance. With the drama of this morning, you were thankful for the promise of security. The footmen open the door and Jeonghan assists Suki in, then yourself, his hand gentle on the base of your spine for stability. He leaps in smoothly and the door closes with a mute click. There is a small lunch pack on the bench across from you, along with your tickets.

“Oh look, an en-route meal.” He says lightly.

While food sounded amazing, what you wanted even more was rest. The ordeal had taken it out of you and you longed for your creaky bed in the attic with the pink frilly floral sheets and Mingyu’s living room fireplace. Maybe that old age thing was still hanging around - everything kept wearing you out! Even as the thrum of magic through your body resisted it. Jeonghan glances over at you and shifts closer - By Merlin, your thoughts must be that obvious on your face. But then you remember how gruelling kneeling on the unforgiving marble floor must have been for the hours that you talked. The awkward angle that his arms stayed distended at to keep him subdued. Now you notice his own mirrored signs of weariness and the ginger way he held his arms. He kept rubbing the space under his kneecaps and he had limped with a favour of his ankles in the effort to move through the castle. Now it’s your turn to give him a haven, opening your arms for him to awkwardly settle into. His smile was warm like fresh pastry and made your cheeks heat up too.

“Rest. There's plenty here for the both of us and we can always take it on the train back.” You pat his knee and shift to lean back. He’s a little more firm and it’s a little more difficult to manhandle him to tilt so he’s leant against you. “Properly.”

You smirk a little before closing your eyes. The smooth stone that paves the roads comes in handy as the trip is easy and devoid of bumps. With the angle, your nose is now amongst his soft blonde strands and where you thought it might tickle, it doesn’t, instead gentle. The faint scent of cotton and lemon lulls you until you’re carefully shaken from the edge of sleep. Jeonghan’s dark eyes crinkle when you jerk upright.

“We’re back at the station. The footmen have advised that the next train is boarding and leaves in half an hour. Are you ready?” His already pillow-soft voice drifts quietly.

You sit up to attention, Suki already leaning on you with a paw that feels like a dagger on your thigh. “Sure, let’s go home.”

One of the footmen goes as far as to escort you all onto the train, flashing his seal and the tickets the King had provided. These tickets lead to the plush private cabins with their dark wood and red velvet seating. He stores the minimal luggage before pressing the tickets into Jeonghan’s grasp, bowing and exiting. Suki finally gets out and has a sniff around before claiming one of the window spots, with the wind away from her.

Poor Suki though, her peace doesn’t last long, seeing as this is yet another sleeper train back to the coast. You let Suki pick at the feather light slivers of salmon in your boxed lunch, while in turn, Jeonghan let you pick out the lettuce and spinach salad mix of his in exchange for your sheets of dried seaweed. You let him talk idly to fill the time, and prompt him with questions on his studies - ever the academic you were. It was also a ploy to push him out of his listener role between the two of you. At promptly sundown, Jeonghan casts the beds flat - the sight of the crisp monogrammed sheets had your drowsiness and worn magic come flooding back to the forefront of your mind. He could barely get them laid on before you were curling up in a ball, walking boots still on.

He nudges you. “Angel, you need to take your shoes off, get changed.”

You groan and sit back up, yanking at the buttons and laces to kick them off by the door. Even though you had sleeping garments, you didn’t quite feel comfortable yet in being seen in them. Your body may have felt like your own again, but not enough to not remind you of how old you’ve been.

“You go, I’ll do it after.” You lie, eyes closed.

That’s the last you remember until dawn, the cool sunlight piercing through the crack in the curtains and the steam horn blowing to announce the train’s arrival in Martine.

Your vest is off, hung on one of the coat hooks, next to his cloak and the collar of your shirt waist is loosened. You’re missing one stocking, your foot hanging off the edge. But you’re under the sheets, the sound of deep breaths next to you growing more familiar. Good Morgana, he sleeps like a god. He had the sense to change but the pity to leave you be. Suki is tucked right under your arm, her tail laid across your neck. The whistle sounds again and Jeonghan’s nose wrinkles like a rabbit’s. Rubbing at his eyes, he rolls to better face you, calling your name thick and low with sleep. You’re glad he can’t hear your heart stutter.

“Are we back yet?” He mumbles.

You hum, sitting up and adjusting the curtains to peek out at the landscape. The thinning trees blur by and the air is more arid - you can almost imagine smelling the salt on the rolling breeze.

“We must be. Let’s go home.”

A burning streak races through you as you say the words. Home. Martine was home.

Mingyu meets the two of you in the front living room. He takes your little suitcases and sets them aside, proceeding to wipe his hands nervously on his sage green canvas apron.

“You both made it back. How did it…” He raises his brows as he trails off.

You preen. “Yoon Jeonghan is no longer a fugitive and is now a free man. Aria is on its way to being back to normal for all magic users.”

The tall wizard heaves a sigh, then pulls a face. “Oh, thank goodness. I mean, it’s a little more than I expected, but!” Then he simmers, going back to being weary. “There’s someone here for you – just you, not Jeonghan. I told them you were out of town and wasn’t sure how long you’d be but they insisted they wait…”

“Good Morgana, for how long!” You shoot to attention.

Only then do you realise that Jeonghan’s hand sits loosely at your waist, an unconscious and certainly not unwanted notion. His grip tightens a fraction, becoming more noticeable.

“Only for an hour or two. Funnily, they didn’t seem to think you’d be too long.”

That sets you off even more. No one apart from the guys here knew where you were. With that, you ignore everything else and stride up the hall, Suki racing past and almost tripping you. Past the dining table to the courtyard-

You draw up short. An elderly woman in a simple blue and white striped shirt-waist and skirt at the garden table idly sipping a cup of tea. It would have been green or chamomile for sure. Her grandiose navy velvet cloak is slung over the back of her seat. She looks up at the thundering of your steps, her eye colour mirroring yours. A familiar coat of arms pin glints proudly on her chest.

“Grandmother.” You say quietly.

Suki is absolutely delighted to see her, meowing loud and persistent as she meanders over for pats. Meanwhile you’re halted in the doorway, your feet cemented in place. It’s been over six months. Which in theory, doesn’t sound like a lot. But after the curse and having not mentioned a word to your family of your condition or whereabouts, away from people you’d never been without, any amount of time is monumental.

“Enjoy your sabbatical?” Bora says dryly.

“I didn’t want… it’s complicated.” You murmur. You move to wilt and sit on the back steps of the kitchen, suddenly so small.

“From Kim Mingyu’s recount, so it would appear.” She replies. “The house is fine. It was in a temporal bubble so easily reversible. Our clocks are still off though, even now. However, perhaps that will have changed now you are…back on your feet.”

You slant your head in the afternoon light. “Grandmother, how did you know where I was after all this time?”

“Well, at first scrying didn’t work.” She begins.

“My aura had been disrupted.” You confirm.

She hums, levelling a glare to silence you. “So, after months of putting out contacts, we hear from sources in the palace in Aria of all places that you had returned, with silver hair. That you had bound the crown princess with the Vine Principle. We had informants work their way back from Aria, to here - this very house. The family was worried sick. Your mother had to close the nursery for a month – her emotions were affecting the plants.”

Guilt churned deep and thick in your stomach. Suki pulled back to headbutt your calf and comfort you. Now that the curse had been lifted, you were closer than ever. Bora’s gaze is expectant.

“I’m sorry, I just – after what I’d done and – I was cursed. I couldn’t bear to stay. So ashamed. I thought I had destroyed everything. But, Martine has made things better.”

She sighs softly. “I understand. I too, have made mistakes – nothing like yours, but mistakes all the same. But you’ve broken a strong curse that would have taken years for anyone else to even scrape the surface on. You have made an impact on the lives of those in Martine, without a drop of magic. And you corrected a wrong for our people in Aria that not even I could rectify when you were younger. Your journey and time away has done you good. It was necessary.”

Finally, the weight lifts and you can breathe. With a hand preoccupied, scratching Suki’s chin, you look up to smile. “Thank you. I think so, too.”

Setting aside her tea, she rises to stand and lean on the back of the chair. When your grandmother smiles in response, it’s rare and demure, the vision of elegance. But always worth it. Better than gold.

“You have done outstanding. Now, you’ve always had your eye on the High Council, yes? Like myself and your father?” Bewildered at the direction of conversation, you nod. This must be what whiplash feels like – you’ve seen the look you’re pulling on Jeonghan too many times. “For your diplomatic heroics, I would like to offer you a role within the Council. Most likely as an attendant for myself or your father as we both work in Spellmastery. But I believe your perspective would be valuable in furthering the strength of our people. You would have to leave Martine, probably stay in the Glass City, to attend to your duties.”

Six months ago – hell, even two months ago – you would have leapt and grovelled for a part to play in the High Council. But, you had roots here now. A happy future you’d carved by yourself. People who cared about you and you felt the same. And there was him.

“I – I appreciate the offer. Truly, I do. And I understand that this kind of opportunity isn’t given to just anyone all the time. But I have a life here now and I think I’d like to live it before having such a career. I hope you understand.”

You feel eyes on you and twist back on the steps to peer down the hall. A blur of lemon yellow vanishes round the corner, then pokes sheepishly back in. Eavesdropping. His cheeks are the faintest colour, his grin cheeky at being caught. Speaking of life. You wink back and then face your grandmother, to gauge her reaction. You don’t say no to a woman like her easily. But there’s something akin to pride blooming in her features, pushing her shoulders back and curling her thin lips.

“I do.” She makes her way back inside, climbing past you on the steps. She pauses at your side to lay a hand on your shoulder. “You have done extraordinary things here. I hope you continue to do so. Just please, call once in a while?”

You throw your head back to laugh as she passes you and glides down the hall.

Another, warmer presence is at your back moments later. “So, who was that?”

You roll your eyes and tip your head back to eye him upside down. “As if you weren’t listening.”

He holds his hands up. “I actually didn’t get all that much.”

You shuffle over so he sits. His knees sit up near his chin and it’s almost comical. “My grandmother.”

His eyes go wide. “The High Spellmistress?”

You nod and watch his jaw go ajar. “The very one. She offered me a place in the Glass City; in the Council as an attendant.” You can feel his presence dim and you reach out to lay a hand on his thigh. “I said no. That there was life to be had here - people I care about.”

He looks down at you, his expression calm but also unreadable. An aspect of him you were still trying to get your head around. From flamboyant, arrogant Spellmaster to careful and cautious Jeonghan.

“Like who?” He says, fishing very obviously.

Something you had absolutely no patience for. You purse your lips, amused. “Oh, I don’t know, Mingyu certainly.”

He deflates even more and now you can’t help but panic - you had hoped he could take a joke, like always. He had always had a confidence and bravado about him you didn’t think you could shake. Yet again, the shoe is on the other foot. You twist to better face him and tuck your knees under his.

“Hey, hey. And you, Jeonghan. Of course you.” You reach out to turn his face towards you. Dark eyes swimming beneath his sunny yellow fringe, almost exactly the same way as the day you met him. Your thumb runs circles over his cheek, daring for you. “You know, fishing for compliments is not very flattering, Jeonghan. And you don’t need to with me. I found my magic for you.”

He smiles, radiant, and puckers his lips to kiss the pad of your thumb - a gentle romantic, you’ve slowly realised. You gasp quietly, your heart stuttering relentlessly as it tries to catch up and regain control with your emotions. Now you know you’re blushing, your chest all tight and, oh maybe a little lightheaded with how easily confessions come to light. As much as he grated on you, Jeonghan made talking easy. Suki meanders closer and pleasantly interrupts with a loud meow. The sun is setting - dinner, like clockwork. Jeonghan grins and shushes her, still under your touch.

“Quiet Suki, we’re having a moment. That’s good. Because no matter what, I was going to be with you.” He says with a steady conviction that makes you feel as if an Augur could have predicted his from miles away. “The moment you laughed - really laughed - I was hooked. My angel, spun of magic and starlight.”

Martine’s annual Magic Festival is a month away, but preparations have been in the works for at least two months before. Between Joshua’s Crystal forecasting, Soonyoung gearing up for the many rituals to take place and Seokmin bringing in extra stock for the apothecary and any roaming magic users, everyone is busy. Jeonghan is slowly getting busier, with wards to put up and a lot of liaising with Aria’s magic council for their representatives to be greeted well. It was all about marketing, you supposed. And they deemed yourself and Jeonghan the best people for the job. You had still not been given permission by the King to release the princess, so she must not be… mature enough to participate in the event.

You had commissions coming out your ears, requiring daily trips up to the Post Office for supplies you had ordered. Most of the time Eugene would just throw your new supplies at you and send you on your way. Not that you weren’t welcome to conversation, but everyone now knew your services were a well sought after commodity. Even more so now the curse had been lifted. A better Spellmistress than Jeonghan in Martine? Everyone paid handsomely for your wares.

Somehow between everyone’s commissioned garments, you managed to find time to work on planning your own. The week-long festival was the biggest event on the Magic Calendar. Held in a different city every year, casters from far and wide travelled to celebrate. Everyone dressed in their best and stored their best spells or potions for trading and enjoyment. Martine would become a city that never slept. Street vendors and magic demonstrations, parades and parties. You thought it a bit funny when Martine had been announced. Maybe, for those in the know, even rigged. It meant your whole family would be coming to town and making a nuisance of themselves in your business.

It’s a cool sunny morning when the post arrives to you first. It’s magic mail, from the way it’s wrapped in velvet and floats in the door of the study of its own accord, landing gently on your work - a suit for Soonyoung with glittering chains and coins that would jingle as he danced. Your name is in thin cursive on the note slipped between the many folds. The velvet is long and wide enough for a whole new garment - which gets your brain thinking before you’ve even reached your gift. You gasp and hold it to the light. Suki perks up and goes still as well. It looks battered and a little weathered in places, the top not quite pointing straight. But you’ve seen this hat in your family’s home for many years and in plenty of portraits - painted or photographed. The ribbon around the base needs freshening up since the last wearer and the dead flowers pinned beneath it look a little meek. Setting it aside, you reach for the note and unfold the heavy textured paper. The letterhead is emblazoned with the High Council’s coat of arms.

Y/N, It is now your turn to proudly represent the family in this years’ Magic Festival. Like those before you, decorate as you see fit and wear it with pride. I will be speaking at the opening, so I look forward to seeing you then. Regards, Bora

You look at Suki. “Are you seeing this too?”

She meows assurance in response. You twist it and tilt it to get a better feel of it. It even felt magic, humming with its own presence and life. Of memories from those before. This was monumental - you’d seen your mother wearing it for as long as you could remember and you’d been dreaming of the day it was your turn. When you had completed your studies and the family deemed you ready to represent them. While you had briefly worn it for graduation photos, it had still firmly been in your mother’s possession. You look past it to the fabric it arrived in - you now needed a whole new plan for what to wear, and that bolt of velvet was just where to start.

Some days Jeonghan deemed his jobs to be two-person jobs, effort and time cut in half he had said blithely. So you were tugged out of the studio and on the streets. He still walked on the side closest to the road and Suki still weaved trouble beneath feet. But the tasks were easy and a way to stretch your magic muscles, so to say. Today entailed a few wards and something about a “Full House Down”, an expensive offer that Jeonghan had available.

“What is a Full House Down? It sounds like a lot of nothing. Scammer.” You say, sceptical.

He gasps, mock offended. “It is not! It is a full sweep of a household to implement an integrated magic system. Wards, self-cleaning, security, and other such additions.”

You baulk at his list of services. “Oh. And what are you - we doing today?”

“Mr and Mrs Park Hyunjin require our talents for their new home.” Jeonghan smirks proudly over at you. “I thought you might enjoy flexing your magical talents for your dear friend and customer.”

You beam and twine your arm in his, your grouchy mood instantly mollified. “Ah Jeonghan, that’s very sweet of you. Thank you. Now, tell me the plan - what is the commission, so to say.”

The job is only an hour and half, entailing security measures over windows and doors, kitchen cleaning spells and temperature management. And if you managed to put in a few luck and protection sigils about the place, Jeonghan didn’t mention it. Hyunjin was in his office, Minji having tea with her mother and sister at the family home. His fine features greeted you warmly from the window as you carefully hovered a storey from the ground. Your wand was now your own, crafted by a close travelling friend of the other wizards, Minghao. It was a sturdy oak wood with lovely engravings around the top end that looked like rippling ribbons that curled into a comfortable moulded grip. The Tudor-style home with thatched roof positively glowed by the time the two of you were done with it.

You knocked Jeonghan’s hip with your own. “Well done Spellmaster Jeonghan.”

“And you, fellow Spellmistress.” His dark gaze slid to you, warm and crinkled.

Again, you slip your arm in his and he yanks you close to lead you back to your many garments awaiting attention. Idly he drops a kiss to your temple as you both pass a café, some mortal young women pausing their conversation to look at the two of you longingly through the window front.

“You’re a tease, Hannie.” You mutter with a smirk. “Oh, did I tell you my grandmother is coming to open the Magic Festival? She sent me the family Hat. My mother had it last.”

Your mind drifts from the cobbled pavement and pelting sunlight to the faded ribbon and withered floral you knew were hers. The embroidery was your grandmother’s and the patches and unfortunate kink in the pointed tip were your great grandmother’s - she worked on a farm and put the Hat through the wringer.

His breath catches as he looks down at you. “Really? Congratulations, I’m so proud of you, Angel.”

You nod, your face warming. “I- thanks. She sent it in a pile of velvet I just have to use. I have a feeling she knew I would - I don’t really have anything to wear that would be suitable otherwise. All of it is back home, for the best.”

He coos and pats your hand. “Oh, I would have loved to see you in your little dresses before you dropped the hem! So cute.”

You screw your face up and squirm. Suki has leaped up onto a brick wall to parade in the sun, her tail lax but pink nose in the air. He means the dresses and garments you would have worn before being deemed an adult, with hemlines to your mid-calf and flat slippers and frilly neck decorations. Even trousers and tunics for more manual work in pleasant pastels. While you had worn more adult wear before the curse had happened, the darker tones and properly dropped hemline didn’t happen until you were in Martine. You had stuck to mainly ankle length skirts and light linens for breathability and easy manoeuvring for spells.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I looked like a child! I do not need the thought of you coddling me like one.” You softly snarl.

He simmers a little and gently sways the two of you. “I’m sorry, Angel. I didn’t mean to annoy you. Only that, I would have liked to know you when we were younger.”

“Not much has changed, apart from the fact I’m a little wiser.” You shrug. “Maybe a little grumpier.”

Jeonghan chuckles and leans forward to open Mingyu’s back gate. “Remnants of old age.”

You make a grumbling noise but leave it at that as you fish your key out of your apron to unlock the door. Suki dashes in first, narrowly missing tangling your ankles together so she can return to her well-warmed spot in the sun.

You work feverishly on your own personal project, stabbing your soft fingertips far too much for your lack of patience in the few weeks left. Mingyu is sweet enough to bring you dinner a few nights into the studio, humming positive observances of your progress. Suki is not allowed anywhere near the garment, for fear of having stray fur caught on the textured material. Minji has her regular tea appointments with you as well, perched in your window seat, every guest’s prime position.

“Oh, you know what would be absolutely darling? If you and Jeonghan matched! He is escorting you, of course.” She sings.

You slide your eyes at her. “I’m my own person, Minji. Besides, this dress is for me. It’s my first after the curse.”

She had been absolutely ecstatic for you when she came in the day after you returned from Aria to find a silver-haired young woman making measurements and grumbling remarks. She had claimed on sight that she knew you were magic - you had to be with the way you handled a needle and thread. Then she made a point of barging in unannounced just as often as Jeonghan in the lead up to her wedding with tea and gossip. It was what friends do, she preened. You don’t tell Minji after your conversation that you were now looking for a ribbon for lacing the same blue as his cloak - you refused to give her such satisfaction.

You could barely sleep the night before - Suki just as restless, bouncing up and down off the bed. Only after a potent, lukewarm shot of Mingyu’s lavender tea did sleep find you. Certainly not the way in which Mingyu intended for it to be consumed. You were meticulous when getting ready by the soft east sunrise, murmuring ceremonial incantations as you did so. Some to bring prosperity and power during this auspicious time, others for your family and magic. Everything felt warmer and buzzing, as if the magic that swirled within you was just begging to burst free. Suki’s golden eyes seemed to glow even more as the magic between you both strengthened. You were meeting Jeonghan in the studio, which was handy seeing as you had forgotten the extra pin for your apron there, hoping you wouldn’t need it. You can hear him before you see him, his boots making crisp steps over the russet pavement - even the air sung in his wake. Nervously, you smoothed down the front of your dress, spinning from the full-length mirror to face him in the entryway.

The velvet hugs your torso nicely, the sky blue silk ribbon of the back lacing popping brightly. It had thick straps and was long enough to hit your ankles. A thin white blouse underneath you’d been working on for a while with long sleeves to protect against the sun, a turned up rounded collar and rounded v-neck from the apex of your shoulders that met nicely with the straight neckline of your overdress. There were little lace eyelets on the neck of your blouse that had been painful to sew on that you imported from Aria. Sensible lace up boots in a shiny black leather - Eugene had recommended a fabulous cobbler, that turned out to be his cousin. Flowers embroidered on the hem of your dress, difficult with the thickness but necessary as they weaved with luck and magic sigils. And your hat. You had added that same Aria lace to the brim but dyed it a sky blue as well. Your apron is a crisp white with more lace on the bottom along with the sky blue silk ribbon in a strip near the bottom as well, white cotton sigils almost invisible to the eye stitched in. Jeonghan in his cloak and a starched shirt and sky blue pants goes still in the entryway. Multiple layers of long necklaces and talismans from his family glinted and shimmered against his pure white starched shirt. His graceful blonde hair curled gently with the magic in the town, a life all its own and dark eyes that glittered with morning light. Suki graciously let you tie the last of your ribbon around her neck in a pretty bow. And you bathed her too! Miracles do happen.

You frown after he neglects to move again. “Jeonghan, what? Is it not good? I mean I know the velvet is a bit much but-”

He scrambles now and shakes his head, closes his mouth. “No! Not at all! It’s beautiful. I’ve just - I’ve never seen you like this? So…I have no words. None that make sense.”

You smile and secure your hat. “Oh good. Let’s go then, I’m meeting my grandmother there.”

He shakes his head again and steps closer, reaching for you and tugging you by the waist close. You gasp and grab to steady your hat.

“You’ve almost made it too well. I wish I could keep you here.” It’s a pondering purr that electrifies you.

“If you would like to brave the wrath of my grandmother, then by all means.” You roll your eyes as best you can.

Jeonghan laughs and shifts your hand to lift your hat. He angles it to shade both of you from the sun blasting through the window. There is a sweet scent about him, like sugar dust and lilies with that undercurrent of pine that you would miss if you didn’t know he used it to fragrance his bedsheets.

“Sunlight and Starlight - I think we could take her.” He draws a long, meandering kiss from you, making your lashes flutter in a struggle to focus. He grins, cheeky. “But for you, Angel, I’ll escort you to town.”

He withdraws to settle your witch’s hat back on your head, straightening the brim. Looping your arm through his, you motion for Suki who leaps down and trots in front to the gate. The zing of your magic under your skin and through your pulse never gets old as you pull out your wand from the holster on your rib cage. A simple wave of the wood instrument and the door closes, sealing with a silver spark.

#kbookshelf #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen fic #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenario #jeonghan fic #seventeen x reader #yoon jeonghan imagines #lsfic #written #likestarlightfic

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cheesecakeluver · 6 months ago

Text

HEAD OVER HEELS

Hamzahthefantastic x reader

*˙ ̟꩜ .ᐟ When Hamzah and Martin decide to take a break and head out to their local cafe, Martin convinces the lovestruck Hamzah to ask for the barista's number after he catches him eyeing her while they vlog.

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

The bells above the door jingle, alerting the baristas that another soon to be customer had entered the premises. The two men shuffled in, quickly finding a seat at the front of the cafe, by the closed window, adorned with warmly lit lights messily placed on the ledge.

The weather outside was cold, with November bringing around the chilly air and freezing temperatures. It was a stark contrast to the inside of the shop, its comfortable nature and cozy heat just adding to the aesthetic.

The men began to record as they sat down, laughter filling the air as they joked about anything, and everything. Soon enough, they opened their small menus, and called over a barista.

As she walked over, her hair moved side to side in its low ponytail. A pen discreetly sat just behind her right ear, ready to jot down orders at any second.

"How may i help you?" She spoke sweetly, her smile polite and demeanour welcoming as she looked over the men in front of her.

A silence filled the air, as one of the men stared directly at her, eyes glossy, almost entranced, while the other man looked at his accomplice, who was lost in the girls appearence.

"I'll.. uh.. have the cream cheese bacon bagel, with an iced oat milk latte" The taller, paler man said, waving a hand in front of the curly haired mans face.

He snapped out of his trance, shaking his head a little as his cheeks flushed a dark pink hue.

"I'll have an almond croissant and an americano, please" He quickly replied, eyes avoiding the baristas.

She laughed, her eyes squinting slightly.

"That should be ready in around... lets say ten minutes" She said, and hastily made her way behind the counter, grabbing cups and plates galore.

The two men were left in a slightly awkward atmosphere, the two just staring at each other.

"Hamzah, what was that?"

Hamzah sighed, his hands reaching to run through his hair. "I was pathetic. Absolutely pathetic."

Martin chuckled, earning a glare from Hamzah.

"Dude, you need to get your game in check. Even she thought that was weird."

"I know, i know.. but how? You know i'm hopeless." Hamzah muttered, staring out of the window to avoid Martins humoured expression.

“Ask for her number” Martin stated bluntly, as if it was obvious.

Hamzahs head whipped around, facing Martin with his mouth slightly agape and eyes brows furrowed.

“I can’t just ask for her number! I don’t even know her name, or.. anything about her!”

“And, if you ask for her number, you’ll find out! It’s foolproof.” Martin reassured, gesturing over to the barista, who at this point, was close to finishing their drinks.

Hamzah pondered over this, uncertain if the risk would be worth it. His eyes glancing over the barista, her warm smile, the way she swayed to the background music in the cafe, picking up their food and drink.

“Fine.”

Martins face lit up, excitement splashed across it. His friend was in need of a companion, a romantic one at that, and this might be his opportunity. Hamzah often hung out with Martin and Mandy, but deep down, it was clear he felt like a third wheel. Like he was interrupting a connection between the interlinked couple.

“She’s coming over, act natural” Martin exclaimed, noting Hamzah’s blushed complexion as the barista made her way over, their orders in her hands.

She smiled down at them, setting the places and glasses down in front, and straightening up again, dusting her apron softly.

“Is there anything else i could help you with?” She asked, innocence lacing her tone.

“Yeah, my friend really wants to know something..” Martin declared, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair, yearning for the interaction to erupt.

Hamzah sent Martin a glare from across the table. He could have given him a minute to prepare, or come up with something to say to her.

“Uh, yeah, i do have to ask.. something..” He trailed off, lost in her sparkling eyes as they glimmered in the cafes soft lighting.

“Well, that’s what i’m here for. Ask away!” She beamed at the man, who was eyeing her up.

Martin would say later on that he could see the invisible string between them from day one. He would mention the way they looked at each other had to be more than just a small cafe crush, and that from that day, he could just tell they were meant to be.

“Could i, uhm.. possibly get your..” Hamzah was turning redder and redder with each word he spoke, his fingers fidgeting in his lap, and eyes now straight down, the floor his main focus.

The girl wasn’t stupid. She knew what he wanted, and she also knew she would be more than happy to oblige. He was cute, and she liked boys that weren’t scared to take initiative, even if his friend had to give him a pep talk. She had, indeed, heard the pair talking from across the cafe, their words echoing loudly.

“Yes” She replied bluntly, a toothy grin unwillingly leaving her, as she got out her small orders notebook, and scribbled the numbers down hastily, unable to contain herself.

Hamzah seemed a little surprised that she agreed, his face slowly turning to it original colour as she handed him the torn page with the scribbled numbers, their fingers passing each other with friction.

Martin viewed the scenario, smiling unaware. He was overjoyed for Hamzah, for finally putting himself out there, and finally, getting accepted.

“I guess i’ll call you then..” Hamzah spoke, a smile breaking out on his face as the reality came to him. He had asked for her number .. and she had said yes. Without him even to finish his sentence.

“I’d liked that, a lot” The barista said, the grin on her face everlasting as the bells above the door jingled, and she was alerted to more customers.

Hamzah’s eyes dimmed slightly, aware that before they even got the chance to talk, it had been taken away from them.

The girls head spun to the door, and then back to Hamzah, their eyes locking.

“My shift ends in thirty minutes.. can you wait?” She asked, her tone not pleading, but wanting.

Hamzah was about to answer, to say yes immediately, but turned to face Martin again, not wanting to let his best friend third wheel, like he himself had all those times before. He knew the feeling, watching two people in love with eachother, being, well, inlove.

“I.. uh..” Hamzah began, but was interrupted .

“He can and he will.” Martin hastily explained, standing up and gathering his bearings whilst grinning at Hamzah the entire time.

“Mandy’s waiting for me outside, so i’ll see you back at the studio, yeah?” He asked Hamzah, throwing his jacket over his shoulders.

Hamzah was grateful that the man would do this for him, and let him experience this by himself, without the invasion of friends or family. He softly smiled at martin, giving him a quaint nod, and turning back to the barista.

“I can wait”

———————-

authors note:

my apologies for not uploading this sooner, and for this being quite a short upload. i’ve had exams recently and have more in the future, as well as being tired from constant travelling, working and playing sports.

i hope this is enough to feed you lovely people for another little while, and i do take requests. any construction criticism or critique is greatly appreciated, and i hope you enjoy the rest of your day/night.

#hamzah fluff #hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefantastic x reader #slushy noobz #hamzah x y/n #thatmartinkid #hamzah x reader #hamzah imagines #martin and hamzah #out of character.#mandysiphone #hamzah fic #just girly things

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thestrangepoet · 7 months ago

Text

The Furrcinating Adventures of Champion, the Archives Cat | The Magnus Archives Fanfiction | Ch 1/?

Based on @ultramarinaa’s Cat!Martin AU

CONTENT WARNINGS: None

DISCLAIMER: As per usual, this is an unedited first draft that I haven’t proofread. Forgive any typos and roughness around the edges – I tend not to go back over fanfics, as they’re just a bit of fun writing for me. (I am a full-time professional writer, and if I start telling myself I need to edit and proofread my fanfics, it’ll cease being fun for me.)

This is chapter one of…I don’t know. I may continue if enough people are enjoying it. Next Chapter →

──── •✧• ────

Oh God, Martin thought to himself as fur began to emerge from under his skin, covering newly reshaped limbs and hiding sharp claws from sight, Jon’s going to be so mad at me!

Oh no, Martin panicked as blunt teeth gave way to pointed canines, this is so unprofessional of me!

Only then did Martin allow the terrible question to enter his mind – what was he becoming?

He should have known better than to pick up an unfamiliar book lying around in the archives of the Magnus Institute, the academic home of research into the paranormal and esoteric. At the very least, if he was going to pick it up, he should have done so only to tidy it away. Why he had felt compelled to open the tome and sneak a peek inside, he couldn’t say.

As the world around him lurched into a new angle, Martin could only think about the presentation his boss had delivered a few weeks prior.

Obviously, you shouldn’t be dealing directly with any artefacts of note, Jon had said dryly, tapping the large screen behind him that showed countless examples of seemingly mundane objects. We have a department for that for a reason. However, it’s not unusual for one or two to slip through the cracks; particularly books, given the extensive nature of our library. If you should check out a book as part of your research and you see the name ‘Leitner’ involved in any capacity, do not read the book. Put it down immediately. Martin, that goes double for you – if you even think the word ‘Leitner’ near a book, I want you to turn around immediately and walk back to your desk – do you understand?

Had he seen the name ‘Leitner’ in this book? There had been a torn bookplate in the front, and maybe the remaining letters had been ‘ner’...

Did it matter? He was paying for his stupidity now, Martin thought. All fur and claws and fangs, and oh, what hideous monster would emerge from what had once been Martin Blackwood?

Martin lay down, his fluffy belly flat against the floor, and pushed his newly shaped paws over his eyes. Oh, it didn’t bear thinking about! Jon would burst in at any moment, see some horrible creature, not realise it was Martin, and—

“Martin?”

As if on cue, the door to the shared office of the archival assistants opened, and in walked Jonathan Sims. “Martin, have you taken your lunch break? Tim and Sasha have already gone, and Elias has been getting very prickly about me making sure you all…oh. Martin?”

Martin had scampered under the table in hope of avoiding his boss’ gaze. Treated now to a blurry view of the man’s green socks and scuffed brogues, he watched as Jon entered the office. “Oh. Good. He’s gone already,” Jon said to himself with the air of a job well done. He turned to leave, and Martin had almost let out a sigh of relief when the man’s feet stopped.

No, no! Martin thought, Go! You can’t see me like this! I bet I’m the ugliest monster, all fangs and talons and hair all over the place!

A scarred hand appeared in Martin’s imperfect vision, scooping up the fallen book that was to blame for Martin’s plight. A new fear sprang up in Martin’s mind then – what if Jon read the book too?

He had to do it. He had to save him! Even if it meant Jon would see Martin’s disgusting new form, he had to keep Jon safe!

He lunged with a power that Martin hadn’t ever known before. A screeching roar – or a miaow, really – pierced the air, and Martin all but bodyslammed Jon’s hands, knocking the book firmly from his grip. It span across the room and slid under the bookshelf out of sight.

Now he’d done it. Now Jon would see Martin in all his revolting glory – witness what that awful Leitner book had turned him into. If he didn’t recognise Martin, as surely he wouldn’t, he’d no doubt call security, and then what would happen? Would Martin be taken down? Locked away in the tunnels for examination and research? Worse, what if Jon did recognise him? He’d know that Martin had messed up in a spectacular fashion, and he’d be so disappointed in him. Would he be the one to tell Martin nothing could be done, that the effects of a Leitner were irreversible and that they’d have to–

“Good Lord! Oh…oh, now, where did you come from, little one?”

Jon’s voice took on a bizarrely soft tone that Martin had never heard before. He couldn’t respond, however, as thin hands had latched gently around his torso and lifted him from the ground, a startled purr rumbling from Martin’s chest.

All of a sudden, Jon’s face filled Martin’s entire view. And for once, no scowl darkened his features. In fact, Jon almost looked…delighted?

Martin blinked.

“Mrrow?”

Not once in over a year of working for Jonathan Sims had Martin managed to coax a smile from the other man. All his best attempts, his best teas, his ridiculous amount of overtime to finish his reports to a standard Jon would accept, all his own smiles and attempts to cheer the man up, not one of these gargantuan efforts had been rewarded with a smile.

And now, with one confused miaow, Martin had unlocked a smile from Jon.

“How did you get in here? Did you get lost? Did Martin leave the door open again? Oh, I bet he did. I bet he did!” Jon repeated, descending into a cooing baby voice that would have had Martin howling with laughter if he could still laugh. Jon shifted the perplexed Martin to sit over his shoulder more comfortably, the book all but forgotten. “But you’re such a handsome boy! And no collar? Poor little man, have you been wandering around looking for some food and shelter? We’ll get you sorted, don’t you worry, little champion.”

What…the hell…is happening? Martin wondered, even as a big, goofy smile curled his lips.

Jon was carrying him. Out of the office. Stroking his back. Calling him a little champion and handsome.

“How about a saucer of warm milk, hmm? Does that sound good? Would that set you right, hmm?”

It was only then that Martin’s mind dragged itself out of the dazed, happy fog to piece together what Jon was saying. Why he was saying it.

Martin had not been transformed into some vicious beast from the eldritch corners of reality.

As they passed by Jon’s office, Martin caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass pane of the door.

A large cat with white and orange fur blinked back at him from over Jon’s shoulder.

──── •✧• ────

Martin was, of course, the talk of the town after everyone returned from their lunch break. Funny, then, that not one person actually mentioned Martin.

“So you’re gonna take him to the vets, right, boss?” Tim asked, rolling another roll of Sellotape towards Martin, apparently expecting him to play with it. Martin, on principle, refused, turning his nose up and huffing.

Tim, come on! You’re back, Sasha’s back, who isn’t back yet? Ask where Martin is! he thought.

“He seems healthy enough to me,” Jon replied, not looking up from the paperwork he was pouring over. “Why?”

“To get his microchip checked? Get him back to his owners?”

That made Jon look up, a flash of shock and upset clear in his widened eyes and slightly parted lips. “His ow— No, no, he hasn’t even got a collar on. No owners.”

“Right, but by law, cats have to be microchipped. Maybe his collar fell off or something?” A hint of amusement danced in Tim’s questions; Martin could tell that Tim was toying with Jon. Jon, however, hadn’t picked up on that.

“M-maybe,” he replied stiffly. “Right, yes, fine. Vets after work. But he can stay here for now. Till the end of the shift.”

Martin wandered over to Jon, sitting himself down by the leg of his chair and craning his neck up, tail swishing behind him.

Right, now that’s sorted, onto the next obvious issue in the office, Jon, he thought. Which is…the obvious and mysterious disappearance of—

“Martin’s late back off his lunch,” Jon noted, checking the office clock with a critical glance. “Could you check the archival assistants’ office please, Tim? Maybe drop him a text. Probably got himself distracted by some…particularly interesting bollards or something…”

Sure, there’d been an insult mixed in there, but Jon had noticed! He’d noticed Martin’s disappearance, and that meant Martin had to repay his kindness!

Fuelled with delight, the cat sprang up onto Jon’s lap, earning him a surprised chuckle. “Ah! Well, hello! Y-yes, you can sit there while I work, Champion. That’s fine.”

Tim snorted as he headed out of Jon’s office, arching an eyebrow at the pair of them. “Champion? Are you kidding me? He’s a classic Fluffy or Ginger or Marshmallow or something.”

“Nonsense. He’s brimming with regal strength. A Champion if I ever saw one,” Jon retorted with a sniff, deeming the argument not worth his attention beyond that and turning back to his work. “Let me know if Martin gets back to you. And if he shows up, send him in here.”

The newly named Champion stretched out lazily on Jon’s lap, settling down for a cheeky nap on company time.

Already here, Jon.

──── •✧• ────

#cat!martin #tma cats #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #jmart

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onlyangel4 · 9 months ago

Text

imgonnagetyouback. fa14. smau.

fernando alonso x singer!reader

who knew a simple line in your new song could bring you to meeting the love of your love

warnings: cursing. age gap (reader is in her early 30s)

author's note: omg guys we have finished the series ! i will now be working through my requests. i specialize in song based smaus, but i will write whatever you have ideas for smau or purely written so do request any ideas that you do have. faceclaim suggestions/ requests for smaus are always welcomed. anyway, enjoy this

faceclaim: kelsea ballerini

taylor swift series masterlist.

y/ninsta

liked by taylorswift, fletcher, astonmartinf1 and 1,327,642

tagged: fletcher. taylorswift.

y/ninsta: i am so excited to announce that my new song imgonnaget you back is out now. i wrote this song with two of my favourite people cari and taylor. i am so excited to see what you guys think of it.

p.s please do not use this song as an excuse to get back with your ex, i don't want to be responsible for that

view all 8,521 comments

taylorswift: i had the most fun writing this with you

y/ninsta: we really did have the best time

fletcher: this is gonna be an instant hit bby

y/ninsta: only because it had a couple brilliant writers on it

user1: this is my avengers

user2: holy shit the aston martin line, i bet fernando is giggling and kicking his feet we know that he is a y/n fan

astonmartinf1: we are honoured to be mentioned in this hit

liked by y/ninsta

fernandoalo_oficial posted a story

written: safe to say this song is now on my pre race playlist

fletcher posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: she is giggling and kicking her feet because of some news her manager just gave her

liked by user3, user4, user5 and 1,211,19 others

tagged: y/ninsta

f1: she's an aston martin (fan). y/n has entered the paddock and no one is surprised by what paddock she is in.

view all 12,341 comments

user3: she looks so good omg

user4: i bet fernando is so excited

user5: she actually looks so happy to be there compared to influencers there

user6: my girl

astonmartinf1 posted a story tagging y/ninsta and fernandoalo_oficial

written: legends meeting legends

y/insta posted a story

written: made mister aston martin a few t swift style bracelets

fernandoalo_oficial posted a story

written: post race celebrations went hard

y/ninsta posted a story

written: forever grateful that we decided to tour australia in december it is so hot here i love it

fernandosightings posted a story

written: fernando spotted leaving an airport in sydney

y/ninsta

liked by taylorswift, fernandoalo_oficial, user7 and 1,100,986 others

y/ninsta: sydney you were fucking gorgeous. i am so glad we left you guys til the end of tour you really brought the heat and let me end this tour on a high. i love you all !

view all 41,837 comments

fernandoalo_oficial: you were brilliant, the best concert i have ever been to

y/ninsta: thank you fernando that is the best compliment anyone has ever given to me

user7: that concert meant the world and more to me, thank you for coming y/n sydney loves you

user8: her and fernando would make such a good couple

user9: isn't he too old for her

user8: i don't think so there are nine years between them

y/ninsta posted a story

written: i've been banned from steering apparently driving should be left to the professionals

y/insta posted a story

written: i love christmas

y/ninsta posted a story

written: happy new years

y/nsightings

liked by user10, user11, user12 and 538,922 others

y/nsightings: y/n and fernando alonso spotted in the vip area of taylor swift's madrid concert. i was always cautious about the dating rumours but now i am convinced, they are so cute together

view all 5,837 comments

user10: she looks so happy omg i could cry

user11: they are so cute omg

user12: i never imagined that these rumours would be true

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by astonmartinf1, carlossainz, y/ninsta and 1,572,899 others

tagged: y/ninsta

fernandoalo_oficial: spent winter break recharging with my girl

view all 86,274 comments

y/ninsta: love i was not aware that we were hard launching today

fernandoalo_oficial: what is a hard launch my love?

y/ninsta: you know what don't worry i can't be mad when you are that cute

user13: fernando randomly hard launching their relationship without y/n's permission is the most on brand thing ever

astonmartinf1: power couple fr

y/ninsta posted a story tagging fernandoalo_oficial

written: since my boyfriend decided to hard launch our relationship today, here is how he left me today to go to the first work day of the year

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TAGLIST SIGN UP SHEET

taglist: @formulaal @formulaonebuff @danielshoe @noooway555 @dilflover44

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blackownersseekingsuccess · 10 months ago

Text

Remembering Bayard Rustin: The Unsung Hero of the Civil Rights Movement

written by Levi Wise Kenneth Catoe Jr.

August 1, 2024 - Growing up as a Black boy in Paterson, NJ, and attending Roman and Irish Catholic Parochial schools, Black history was not very familiar to me. I grew up in a religious Southern Baptist family and participated in the church choir. In this context, Martin Luther King, Jr., was all that I knew about Black history until I became a teenage Madonna fanatic. Ironically, Madonna made me aware of Black activists and radicals such as Nina Simone, Jean-Michel Basquiat, James Baldwin, and Bayard Rustin. Bayard Rustin was an African American activist who believed in civil disobedience. Rustin felt that Black people should deliberately break unjust laws but do it non-violently to bring about change and this would play a key role in the Civil Rights movement. He also advocated for LGBTQ rights. Rustin moved to Harlem in 1937 and began studying at City College of New York. It’s interesting to note that at the time CCNY was an all-male college once regarded as ‘Jewish Harvard’ which did not accept Black men—Rustin was an unusual exception. While Rustin was at CCNY he became involved in efforts to defend and free the Scottsboro Boys, nine young black men in Alabama who were accused of raping two white women. Activism for Rustin was something that came naturally. He later became a mentor to Martin Luther King.

Rustin is one of my all-time idols. I have been enamored of him since I learned about him, so I was excited to attend an event dedicated to his life and legacy at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, “Between the Lines: Bayard Rustin, A Legacy of Protest and Politics.” The event was a conversation between Michael G. Long and Jafari Allen, who edited the book of the same name. Their exchange sparked many revelations and I left the event more aware than when I entered. I felt so much pity for the life that Rustin had to live, including the attack on his character that was rallied against him by other Black people and the distance that Martin Luther King placed between himself and Rustin out of fear of people assuming that he was also gay. I also learned that it was Coretta Scott King who introduced King to Rustin. Scott-King met Rustin during her college years as a fellow activist who practiced civil disobedience. She would ultimately introduce her husband King to civil disobedience tactics. Rustin recalled that his first time meeting King he was strapped with a handgun and that he never traveled without his gun. It was Rustin who told King that if he represented civil disobedience he would have to be willing to put away his firearm, which eventually he did. Nevertheless, this raises the question, who was King really? The “I Have A Dream” pacifist or the “Beyond Vietnam” radical? We will never truly know.

All in all what I did learn was that according to Rustin, King had no idea how to organize an event. Instead, it was Rustin who developed the blueprint for King’s early Civil Rights movement, at least until the day that King removed Rustin from his inner circle.

Nevertheless, Rustin returned to organize the March on Washington, despite everything leveled against him by Adam Clayton Powel and Roy Wilkins. Someone noted during the discussion that “it’s funny how karma works given the fact that nobody remembers Wilkins's legacy in comparison to the sudden interest in Rustin.'' If I remember correctly, the comment was made by the moderator, NYU professor Dr. Jarafi Allen, based on the fact that the venue was standing room only, or that the Hollywood lens is now fixated on Rustin’s story, with an Academy Award-nominated movie based upon his life currently in theaters. Wilkins has not received the same interest from Hollywood, perhaps indicating that he is less marketable in the mainstream. Meanwhile, Rustin’s role as an activist for the LGTBQ community is also important for newer generations. Until recently, this legacy and all that he accomplished was invisible, but he has since become a symbol of the “others” and most notably the “forgotten others”. While in his lifetime he was shunned, rallied against, and betrayed by those that he benefitted, history has allowed his legacy the final word.

#black literature #black history #black tumblr #critical race theory #black theme #black entrepreneurship #new york

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gingerteafairy · 5 months ago

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𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 (𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐝 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐝𝐚𝐯𝐞)

requested by @ikkyfics, love ya honey (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

tags: blackfem!reader, cursing, softdom!reader, sub!dave, dom!todd, lil bi vibes, threesome, p in v, unprotected, oral (f!m! receiving), pet names, slut shaming, filth, cum eating. word count: 5.5k. enjoy :)

The insults in the world ran out just before you got into the taxi. A friend invited you to a Secret Santa party where you didn’t know a single soul, hoping you’d finally break out of your shell and maybe meet someone to talk to or—who knows—maybe even date. You pulled on your usual outfit—a skirt and turtleneck—not bothering with makeup because, well, you didn’t really care about this party.

It was set to start at 8 pm, so 7:50 seemed like a good time to leave. Something was probably already happening by now. You weren’t entirely sure how you felt about this, but maybe you could manage to stop looking so miserable and meet a guy, or at least make a new friend.

You hopped out of the taxi and, with hesitant steps, approached the doorbell. For a second, you thought about bailing and going back home. 8:20. Someone had to be here.

Ding dong.

"Who is it?" A guy’s voice boomed through the intercom.

"It’s the new girl from college. I’m here for the Secret Santa. Elijah invited me. Is this Marty’s house?"

"Yeah. Hang on."

A few seconds later, a good-looking guy holding a dog opens the door. You blinked, wondering if this guy was some kind of VIP for the night.

"Hey," he grins, stepping aside to let you in, and then quickly shuts the door behind you. "You’re the first one here."

You blink, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. "Sorry… what?"

"Yeah, you’re the first. Everyone else is running a little late," he laughs, tying the dog’s leash to a chair at the kitchen island. "I’m Max, Marty’s brother."

"Hi, Max." You smile, offering your name as you step further inside.

A moment later, another guy walks in. You recognize him immediately—it’s Martin, the guy you’ve seen around campus with Elijah. He approaches you with a friendly handshake, and the two of you exchange introductions while sitting in one of the chairs that’s set up for the party.

"So... what do you do?" He asks, breaking the silence, his voice a little shy.

"College? Nursing," you reply, awkwardly folding your hands in your lap.

"Nice," he nods, eyes on the floor. "I’m doing engineering. Mechanical engineering."

"That’s really cool," you say, offering a small smile, noticing him light up at your response.

The doorbell rings, and you almost sigh with relief—it’s a welcome distraction from the awkward silence. A couple of people walk in, and among them, two familiar faces—Todd and Dave—enter together, greeting Marty with a hug.

You don’t know them well enough to call them best friends, but you like both of them, more than just friends. You’ve always pushed that feeling aside, though. It was impossible. They were both too ridiculously attractive in different, yet equally special ways. And your heart—well, it could make room for both of them. Yet, you felt way more than just sexual attraction for both. You really felt something romantic or even platonic. They awake more than a carnal-casual-primitive thing in you. It was almost maternal and evolved all kinds of love. You loved them. Maybe that's why you came here afterwards.

"You came! How’s it going?" Todd grins, heading over to give you a high-five. You stand up to hug him.

"I’m good. I’m just not really used to situations like this," you laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Hey, Dave."

"Hey." He smiles at you, hands shoved into his pockets. You hug him back, a little shyly. You told yourself today would be the day you tried to be cool.

But two hours later, you were just scrolling through your phone, watching everyone chat and goof around. The energy in the room felt a little suffocating, so you decide to head to Marty’s room where a few guys are playing FIFA. The spot next to Todd on the couch is open—thank God.

"I’m sitting next to you, Todd," you say, trying to sound upbeat despite your frustration, plopping down on the couch with a pillow in your lap.

"Sure. Is it comfy?" Todd asks, shifting his body slightly to make more room for you, but instinctively, you move closer, forcing him to adjust and pull back into his spot.

"Ever played FIFA?" Dave asks, never looking away from the screen, his fingers flying over the controller.

"Yeah, but it’s been forever," you reply, watching the screen as Dave scores a goal. You laugh when you hear Andrew—one of the other guys—groan from across the room.

"Dude, you picked the worst team and you’re still winning. That’s cheating!" Andrew complains, tossing his controller onto the couch and storming out of the room.

"Andy, you’re such a sore loser," Marty laughs, shaking his head. "Hey, I think the pizza’s here. Wanna go grab some?"

"Nah, man. I wanna keep playing," Dave says, scanning the screen for a new team.

"He’s only going because Erica’s downstairs," Todd teases.

"Erica and pepperoni? Heaven," Marty chuckles, heading out and closing the door behind him, leaving you alone with the two guys.

"So, who did you get for Secret Santa?" Todd asks, and you glance at him, suddenly aware of how close your faces are.

"Wouldn’t that kind of ruin the surprise?" You reply, doing your best not to stare at his full lips and the dimples that appear when he smiles.

"Good point," he nods, turning back to the game as Dave continues to pick between Barcelona and Real Madrid. "Hey, you want something to eat?"

"Not right now. Save me a slice," Dave responds, smiling as he picks Barcelona, and the game kicks off, passing the controller to Todd.

"I’ve never seen you with curly hair," Todd says, glancing at you briefly before turning his attention back to the screen. "It’s pretty. I actually think it looks better this way."

"Really?" You ask, feeling your cheeks flush. "Thanks, Todd."

As you watch the two guys play, you start to realize why they’re so ridiculously attractive. They’re gorgeous. Smooth, charming, and don’t even get you started on their voices. You could die to hear one of those deep moans in your ear. Whatever. You could handle both of them at once. You were here to have fun, so why not just go for it?

"Why don’t we play something to get to know each other better?" Todd suddenly suggests, setting the controller down and turning his full attention to you.

"Sure. Sounds fun," you agree, flashing him a smile.

Dave sets his controller down and stands up, moving to the couch. Todd scoots over to make space for him, leaving you in the middle. He glances at you and adjusts his glasses, clearly a little nervous.

"What kind of game?" he asks, focusing on Todd, who pulls out his phone and shows you a website.

"Each person asks a question from the site," Todd explains. "But!" He pauses, looking between you two. "You gotta pick a number from 1 to 69, because each question’s got a number."

"Cool. So we pick a number, the question pops up, and we answer," you say, nodding as you accept the idea, earning a smile from him. "Does the question go to both of us?"

"Yep. Everybody answers," he confirms.

"What happens if I don’t wanna answer?" Dave asks, looking a little uncertain.

Todd thinks about it for a moment, but you jump in first. "You get punished. We’ll decide the punishment on the spot."

"Exactly," Todd grins. "Alright, your turn, Dave. Pick a number."

"Six," Dave says, and the virtual wheel spins before landing on the question.

What was your last kiss like?

"Man, what kind of site is this?" Dave blurts out, his eyes widening in surprise, clearly not expecting such a question.

"It’s a fun site, now answer the question," Todd teases, his lips curling into a smirk as he leans back slightly, almost casually, but you can see the spark of amusement in his eyes.

"It was good," Dave says quickly, looking over at Todd, who rolls his eyes dramatically, clearly not impressed with the answer.

"Details, man. C’mon, don’t be vague," Todd pushes, raising an eyebrow as he leans forward, his posture open, but the slight tension in his shoulders shows that he's watching Dave closely. "Look, my last kiss was with Samantha. It was kinda weird though. She had this odd habit of tugging on my shirt. She was pretty, but... there was no chemistry."

"O-okay..." Dave mutters, his cheeks tinged pink as he looks down at his hands. "My last kiss was with Lily. She smelled amazing and, uh... taught me french kiss," he admits, almost shyly.

"Aww, that’s cute, Dave," you can’t help but say, your heart fluttering at how adorable he sounds. You can’t resist reaching over to pinch his cheeks, causing him to look at you in surprise. His expression softens, and you can see a slight blush creeping up his neck. "My last kiss was with Louis. He had no idea how to tease, just went straight for it, desperate for sex, you know. I got mad and stopped."

"That sucks," Todd says, his voice softer than before, as though he’s trying to comfort you. "Alright, my turn. 51," he says, grabbing his phone again. He glances at you quickly, and you catch the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Are you seeing anyone?" The question pops up on the screen, and Todd answers almost immediately, his gaze locking with yours for a beat too long.

"No," Todd responds quickly, almost too quickly, before he pauses, as if considering something. He shifts in his seat, the subtle shift of his weight towards you betraying the fact that he's not entirely indifferent. "Although, I am interested in someone."

"I’m not dating anyone," you reply, keeping your tone light, your eyes flicking toward Dave, who looks away shyly when he realizes you're waiting for his answer. "What about you, Dave?"

"No," he says, his voice quiet and soft, and when you look up at him, you notice his eyes are lingering just a little longer on yours. There's a softness there, a touch of something he doesn't quite say aloud, but it’s in the way he looks at you.

"My turn. 32," you say, your voice suddenly a little breathier as your heart beats a little faster. You feel the heat of both of their eyes on you.The question flashes on the screen.

What's your type?

You freeze for a second, your gaze bouncing nervously between the two of them, before settling on Dave. His voice is low and slightly hesitant when he speaks. "I like... smart and cute girls..."

"Aw, that’s sweet," you smile, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. He’s so sincere, it makes your stomach do flips.

"And curly hair," he adds, almost shyly, his eyes scanning your hair as if he's studying it. "I really like curly hair..." His voice trails off, and he meets your eyes again, waiting for your reaction, the warmth in his expression almost overwhelming.

"Oh... me too," you say softly, a little caught off guard by how intense his gaze has become. You swallow nervously, your smile turning a little weaker, and you reluctantly shift your eyes back to Todd, feeling a bit flustered. "What about you?"

"Shy, funny, a little awkward, teasing, likes games, curly hair... and dark skin, sun kissed like" Todd says, his voice a little deeper now, and he bites his lower lip as he speaks.

His gaze drops down to your lips for just a second, then flicks back to your eyes. There’s a vulnerability there, something unspoken but clear. He just described you, and the thought makes your heart race a little faster. Was he talking about you? It feels like it, and you try to brush it off, but it's hard to ignore.

"What’s your type?" Dave asks, a little more confident now, but there’s a hesitation in his posture, a slight shift of his weight as he moves just a little closer to you. His eyes are so intense, you can feel them on you even when you try to look away.

"Nerds," you say, trying to keep it casual, but it’s clear you’ve piqued their interest. Their eyes are suddenly a little brighter, more focused on you than before. You feel a little self-conscious, but also strangely empowered by their attention.

"Alright, next question," Todd says, his voice still light, but there's a small twitch in his smile. He doesn't break eye contact with you for a second before quickly glancing at Dave. "Dave, pick a number."

"25," Dave responds, inching closer to Todd, and you feel your heart rate pick up when Todd leans in, his shoulder grazing yours. You instinctively lean back just a little, but it’s hard to ignore the way the air shifts, the closeness between all of you becoming suddenly much more palpable.

"What's the sexier part of me? What a question," Todd laughs, though his voice is slightly more strained than before. He looks over at Dave, who’s blushing now, his face bright red as he stumbles over his words. "You wanna answer that?"

"Uhmm... can we change the question?" Dave asks, voice cracking slightly, clearly embarrassed but also trying to hide his nervousness.

"Your lips," you blurt out, without thinking, and as soon as the words leave, you realize how bold they sound. You can feel the heat in your cheeks, but you don’t take them back. You meet his gaze, and his eyes darken by a few shades, locking onto you with an intensity that makes you catch your breath.

He pauses for a long moment, his eyes shifting between your lips and your eyes. "I... I think your lips are... really nice too," he says, his voice soft, almost a whisper, as if afraid to make the moment too real. "More than nice, actually. I like how... they seem painted in different colors. It's so pretty."

"Wow, Dave." You blush, tugging a hair strand behind your ear. "That was like, my biggest insecurity for a long time."

"It shouldn't be." He comforted, smiling gently. "It's one of the prettiest things in you."

"Your eyes," Todd interrupts, his voice low and steady as he gently touches your face, his fingers brushing the side of your cheek. Todd’s gaze is intent now, his fingers lingering on his skin for a fraction too long, and you notice the way Todd’s gaze flicks toward Dave for a split second, as if seeking your reaction and his too.

"Wasn’t that for me?" Dave chuckles awkwardly, the laughter fades when Todd flicks his middle finger at him, giving him a playful little gesture, before focusing back on the game.

"My turn. I’ll pick number 8," Todd says, spinning the wheel again. He’s trying to maintain his usual easy-going demeanor, but there’s a slight tension in his posture, as though he’s waiting for your reaction. "I’m changing the question."

"That's not fair!" you exclaim, grabbing the phone from his hand, and then you freeze when you see the question.

What do you want to do with the person next to you?

"What you… want to…do?" Dave echoes, his eyes locked on yours, searching for something unspoken in your gaze.

“I guess it's what you want to do with the person now?" Todd repeats, his voice low, pulling your attention toward him. His eyes shine with a mixture of amusement and something deeper—something harder to define.

A silence settles between you all, the exchange of glances like walking through a minefield. You aren’t sure where to look—at Todd’s intense, dark eyes or Dave’s soft, blue ones. Both are captivating, dangerous in their own way.

"Punishment," Todd breaks the tension, leaning in slightly, his proximity making your breath hitch. "I don’t think I wanna to answer that question."

"Why?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper, as Todd’s thumb grazes your cheek, your noses almost brushing.

"Because I prefer to show it," he answers, his breath warm against your skin, a tantalizing closeness you can’t ignore. "And I’m going to be punished for it."

"What if you're not...?" you murmur, biting your lip nervously, and his eyes close for a brief moment, his pulse quickening as if your words have struck something inside him.

"I won’t be able to stop," he whispers back, his voice almost a groan of restraint. But just as the air thickens, he pulls away, his attention shifting, his awareness of Dave’s presence behind you palpable. Dave is bright red, taking every detail on that beautiful mind.

"15," you suggest, desperate to change the atmosphere a little, watching as Todd spins the wheel again, still caught in the lingering tension.

The question appears: If you could bite me, where would you bite?

Your heart races, the weight of the question hanging in the air. You turn your attention to Dave, feeling his eyes on you, studying you with a quiet intensity. Slowly, he leans toward your neck, his gaze flickering down, but he doesn’t speak. The heat of his breath sends a shiver down your spine.

"Punishment," he whispers, and then, without another word, he gently nibbles a small part of your neck, pulling back to study you. His eyes are filled with an expression you never expected from Dave—serious, daring, and a little too intense for your own comfort.

However, the moisture between your legs was already affecting your ability to think straight about what could happen if the people downstairs suddenly entered the party. You just wanted both of them. At the same time and now.

So, you approached Dave, looking at him through your eyelashes and nibbled on his lower lip, pulling it sensually and letting go looking straight into his blue orbs. Affected by the blood flowing down his body, Dave pulls you again, tangling his hands in your hair to engage you in a desperate, clumsy yet delicious kiss. Sweet. Moaning into the boy's lips when he touched his hands to your breasts, squeezing lightly.

Todd cleared his throat, and you reluctantly pulled away from Dave, adjusting yourself as you felt Todd's intense gaze on you. His chocolate eyes seemed even darker now, filled with something deeper. "Can I answer now?"

"Yeah," you reply, your breath a little uneven. You nervously swipe at the small trace left by Dave's lips, a lingering sensation that still stirs your thoughts.

Todd watches you carefully, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, he leans in closer to your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers softly. "Your nipple."

You purr with the answer and felt your body produce lubrication like crazy, as if you had never done that in your life. "Do you wanna show me?"

He laughs softly before getting closer to your lips and devouring them with a quick, intense, carnal kiss. Todd might not be as experienced, but he certainly made up for it with the way he devoured your lips with bites and hickeys down your neck and jaw and back to your mouth.

A little wet strand is shown when he breaks the kiss to move down with small kisses down your nipple already hardened, showing through the thin fabric of your bra. He looked at your face one last time as a question and you nodded, unable to speak due to the crazy intensity of the moment.

Todd reaches for the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. “Fuck.” He whispers when he sees your exposed skin covered by a simple bra, that he didn’t take off, just pulled it down to free your left breast, which made you shiver with the cold air touching them.

Laughing into your chest, he silences himself, grabbing it and sucking slowly, nibbling gently between his teeth, making your head fall back, leaning against the couch to enjoy the touch, where Dave wasted no time and kissed you fervently.

“Uhmm… Todd,” you moan when you feel his hand starting to trail squeezes in your inner thigh, getting closer to your soaked core. “Don't tease me, baby.”

“Please, say my name.” Dave whimpered, pouting his lips. "I mean... you're saying Todd's. I wanna hear mine too..."

“Oh, Dave. I can't hold myself when you do it.” You cooed, cupping his face with your right hand to kiss him once more while your left was busy ruffling Todd's hair, the boy already busy pressing the bulge on his jeans.

“Can I ask something crazy?” Todd lifted his head, you and Dave focused on him, dizzy by the moment. “What if we, you know… make out?”

“Damn, you're dirty, Todd.” You teased, leaning to bite his bottom lip again.

“You're the one between two guys here.” He shot back, pinching your nipple between his thumb and index. “I would say that you're the dirtiest of us both.”

"it'd be dirty if I said i want those guys inside me." You shot back and his only reaction was dropping his mouth, recovering for a second.

“You sure? How would we do this?” Dave inquired, his gaze on your beautiful dark nipples, where he cups on his hands with no hesitation, smiling when you mewl. “God, I'm in. I need to hear it more. Who will you choose first?”

“I can take you both.” You confess, biting your lip when they exchange looks before attacking your neck at the same time.

Dave’s sweet and passionate rhythm drives you crazy on your neck and breasts while Todd’s carnal and almost raw feels tucked his hand on your panties, caressing the aching wet clit while the other digged in the skin of your waist.

“Uhm… Todd…Dave… this is…so good.” You whine by the touch.

“Fuck, dude. I can't take it. Looks like porn,” Dave giggled, digging his fingers on your thigh to open your legs to them.

“Is it?” You tease, snaking your hands to press the on their bulges. Their hips move in unison against your hand, seeking more contact, all joining in an awkward, dirty, and lustful kiss.

“Boys, take off your clothes, I’m alone here.” You joke, and the two of them waste no time.

Todd pulls his raglan over his head, while Dave unbuttons his flannels, both of them lying awkwardly on the floor. A delicious view of bare chests, backs, and abs, delicious, masculine, yours. How could you choose? They’re perfect.

You get up from the bed, looking over your shoulder at the confused looks of the boys following you until you lie down on the bed and beckon them with your finger. They run, each to a different side of the bed. Dave to the left, Todd to the right. As you put your knee on the bed, you slap it.

“No, no pants.”

You command in a desirous tone, almost salivating when they undo their belts and unbutton their pants desperately, leaving them anywhere. Opening up to a wonderful view of underwear wet with pre-cum and a marked cock. Dave's gray boxers marked his entire large contour, Todd's black ones added an air of mystery that hid his entire enormous length.

“You too.” Dave murmurs, licking his lips in anticipation of your move.

“Why don't you come take them off, baby?” You offer, pressing your legs together to receive some relief from the teasing. He looks at Todd and obeys promptly, going around the bed to climb in the middle where you were, stopping on top of you.

Dave swallows hard, unzipping your skirt. You lift your hips to make it easier to remove, while he runs the fabric over your legs, ankles and finally, to the edge of the bed.

He licks his lips when he sees the soaked stain on your white panties, already transparent, from the wetness of your honey. “Can I… can I… lick it?”

“Sure, honey.” You nod, your chest aching with excitement for the next touch.

He looks you up and down before pushing the fabric down the same path as your skirt, opening his excited eyes to your dripping entrance. Dave leans over, supporting his body on his arms, positioning one of his knees on his strong shoulder. He lowers his head slowly, as if he still doesn’t believe it’s real. Proving the reality when his tongue traces a decisive path along your length, drawing a soft moan from your lips, which gave him the confidence to suck, lick and kiss your sensually affectionate intimacy.

You look at Todd who was forgotten in the corner, clutching his aching tent. “Come on, Todd. I want to… oh, fuck… make you feel good…”

He groaned, removing his boxers, showing off his thick member. You move your body to rest on your elbow, not letting go of Dave's touch. Todd sits next to you, positioning his body to make it easier for you to move against him, while you grab his cock with your hand, slowly jerking it off while licking the appetizing liquid from the tip.

“Fuck. You're so beautiful." He growls, alternating his gaze between Dave jerking off while you tremble beneath him and your mouth filled with his size. "Yes, keep going. It's so fucking good, princess."

He moves his hips, pushing deep into your throat and you roll your eyes, getting lost in how good that felt along with Dave's fingers entering you. He might be shy, but he certainly didn't waste time at this point.

You pull Todd's cock out to jerk it off, but he takes it from your hand and slaps it in your face, especially in your lips, smiling when you spit on it, wetting it even more as you take it in your hands again to put it in your mouth.

“Can I fuck your mouth?” Todd asks, already moving his hips, cursing when you nodded moaning, speeding up the movement until you choked on his tip in your throat.

Dave stands up and you feel the emptiness of his fingers, which was soon filled with the boy's long tasty cock. Dave could be bigger, but Todd was definitely thick and would have difficulty entering you. Which made you yearn even more to feel him stretching you. But your thoughts went far when Dave didn't wait long for you to get used to it and slowly thrust.

"Ugh, this is so good, so good." He whimpers, increasing the pace, grabbing your leg that was on his shoulder to dig his fingers in. "m can't take it, m gonna cum so fucking fast."

Your eyes were in the back of your head, you were in heaven. How he filled you, went deep and came back, broke you and rebuilt you, pulled and pushed. Your eyes filled with tears, whimpering pathetically beneath the two who were the reason for your madness.

"Dave, fuck. More, I want more!" You let go of Todd's cock only to scream and go back to sucking him, gagging. You shiver as you feel the familiar sensation of falling to your stomach. You then collapse into muffled moans and screams, shaking in his strong hands.

"You gag like a whore." Todd groans, fastening his path to fuck himself in your mouth. "My little slut likes to feel my cock? You're so dirty, wanting both."

"Shit, I'm going to cum." Dave announces, pulling out a second too soon, spurting his hot liquid all over the bed. "Sorry, m sorry, oh god."

Your moans become a mess, muffled by Todd's cock, which quickly fills your mouth with strands of his white thick cum.

“Calm down, sweetie. There’s a little more…” he adds breathing, as the last jets are deposited in your mouth, which made you swallow with a little resistance.

You open your mouth, checking that you swallowed all his seed, before licking your lips. “Oh shit, this is so exciting. You’re so hot.” He complains, biting his lips.

“You’re hot.” You praise, seeing the boy smile shyly. “It tastes delicious, Todd.”

Dave sits up, rolling onto his side, followed by Todd, who does the same with a playful grin. They both lean against the grass, eyes wide and breathless, their chests rising and falling dramatically. The three of you are still grinning like fools, drenched in sweat, with your hearts racing from all the fun and craziness.

“What the hell was that?” Dave asks, breaking the silence with a laugh that sounds almost like a mix of disbelief and joy. His voice is still breathless, and it makes everyone burst out laughing.

“We’re crazy!” You say through giggles, your face flushed and your eyes sparkling with excitement. You quickly kiss Dave, and then Todd, before pulling them both close into a hug. They both lean their heads against your chest, feeling the warmth of your embrace.

"Sorry for calling you slut." Todd apologized, pouting.

"That's okay, I liked it." You confess, giggling.

Dave wraps his arm around your back, pulling you in tightly, his grip almost childlike as if he's trying to hold onto the moment. But Todd, with a little more grace, shifts, resting your head on his shoulder. His fingers run lightly through your sweaty hair, trying to fix it as if it’s not already a mess.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna face you guys tomorrow. I feel so embarrassed,” you admit, your voice tinged with vulnerability, as if the weight of something uncertain presses down on you. You bite your lip and look down, your heartbeat still racing. "I'm usually not like this."

“Hey,” Todd says softly, his tone warm and reassuring, making you look up at him. His hand gently lifts your chin, and he meets your eyes. “Don’t be embarrassed. You like us, right?”

“Yeah…” you reply, your voice a little softer now, a shy smile tugging at your lips. You look at Todd, then at Dave, your heart racing in your chest. Dave leans in, giving you a tender kiss, his lips brushing yours with care, as if making sure you know how much he cares.

“We like you too,” Dave says, his voice a little more serious now, but still filled with affection. He sits up fully now, resting his chin in his hand as he looks at you. “We’ve liked you for a while, actually. We just, uh... rushed things a little bit…”

“And how we rushed,” you laugh, your voice a little teasing as you nudge Dave playfully with your shoulder. They both chuckle, clearly embarrassed but happy. “I like both of you, equally. I can’t choose. You both have a spot in my heart.”

“Truth be told,” Dave continues, his cheeks flushing slightly as he glances at Todd. “I like Todd too. Sorry.” He looks almost sheepish, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“Aw, we’ve got ourselves a bisexual king here,” you joke, your laughter light and teasing as you reach out to kiss Dave’s forehead. You can’t help but smile at how adorable he looks when he gets flustered.

“Relax, man. I like you too. Just don’t expect too much from me, alright? I like pussy.” Todd teases, his grin wide and playful as he gives Dave a light shove. Dave rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m not bisexual, I just…” Dave starts, his voice unsure as he looks from you to Todd, his face turning a deeper shade of red.

“Stop explaining yourself,” Todd interrupts, his voice full of mischief as he leans in to plant a quick kiss on Dave’s cheeks. Dave wipes it away with the back of his hand, his face turning bright red as he chuckles awkwardly at Todd’s laughter. But soon, all three of you are laughing together, the tension breaking and the moment feeling lighthearted again.

“I love you guys,” you confess, holding both of them close, your voice thick with emotion. You pull them into a hug, squeezing them tight. “But I think we should get ready, because it’s probably time for Secret Santa.”

“Shit, you’re right,” Dave says, his eyes widening as he jumps to his feet, wiping the sweat off his forehead and adjusting his clothes. He fixes his hair in a hurry, still laughing as he glances back at the two of you. “We better clean up, huh?”

Soon, you’re all downstairs, looking around the room. No one seems to have noticed that the three of you were missing; everyone is either too busy dancing or pairing up for the gift exchange. You smile as you say Erica’s name, handing her the chocolate package she’s been raving about.

“Save a little for me, babe.” Martin pouted, hugging the girl that just giggled and landed a piece on his tongue.

Todd draws Dave’s name, and you can’t help but laugh at how embarrassed Dave looks as he accepts the small superhero action figure with a shy grin.

“T-thank you, dude.” He cooed, hugging Todd, but he is faster and lift his body a little in the air.

“You're welcome, honey.” He winks, and Dave says all the insults of the world before going back to his spot.

Then, a girl named Katie hands Todd a Spider-Man comic, his face lighting up with genuine joy. It’s exactly what he wanted. You smile, happy to see him so excited. As the party winds down, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness. The night had turned out better than you ever imagined. Because, after everything, both Dave and Todd asked you to be their girlfriend. You came to the party hoping for one date, and somehow, you ended up with two. There’s no one luckier than you.

taglist:

@ikkyfics

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bloodyymaryyy · 1 year ago

Text

Gossip girl xoxo

Part 4

Part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / masterlist

Warnings : mention of underage drinking but other than that don't know

((Side note : apparently you guys like the series so what you want you take my beautiful people! I love you guys! Anyway I saw what happened with lando and I had to make that in here! Also something is coming soon I don't know if you will like it but I will enjoy writing so 🤷‍♀️))

Texts with lando

You : hi lan!

Landinio : hey!

You: I heard that you are going to King's day tomorrow with Martin

Landinio : yeah I am what's up?

You : well I got invited for some reason too and wanted to know if you will go with martin or you could carpool with me! I have the lambo here!

Landinio : OH SHIT! I am texting with will rn to cancel on him! There is no way I am missing the lambo ride with you!

You: okay sweet just text me when are you meeting and here you are staying at to come get you because I am out rn. Ttyl x!

Landinio : oh 😏 with who?

You : none of your bizz bye!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Texts between martin and lando

Lando : hey martin sorry to cancel last minute but y/n is coming and she has her lambo here and I won't find another chance to rice that thing so... Sorry again!

Will : oh it's nothing I understand I would too!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

After picking up lando from his hotel we headed out towards the boat that the party is held taking empty wide roads to really drive the thing, drifting and doing a few donuts in an empty parking lot just for the thrill of it but making sure to actually arrive in the boat party you both got out of the car talking and laughing entering and finding Martin by the dj booth.

Greetings were exchanged talking and laughing until the second round of drinks that started to kick in hopping around, dancing and sings to the rhythm being surrounded by the Dutch men.

You two weren't fazed by the phones recording your every move because you were having fun and a little tipsy, not that you would admit it both to anyone that in fact you were drunk continuing with the drinks and having fun and just as you were getting drinks you got elbowed in the face not really hard but enough to cause a little mountain the next hour not really noticeable.

Lando in the other hand just as you were nearing him again was hit or something because his nose was bleeding you drank both of them quickly and ran up to him while near you can see the bloody roll down in this lips and teeth he smiled at you teeth bloody, you started to laugh at the situation. Someone had a first aid kit and you cleaned the wound putting a plaster on the cut and a bandage wrapped around his head loosely because you were drunk it was going to be messy.

When you finished you started to laugh again at his stupid look he looked like a mummy but who cares? You two didn't nor did the men around you so you both continued dancing, bouncing, shouting lyrics and drinking again. You weren't piss drunk you could think and walk straight and so was lando, playing some songs with martin lando djing for a bit so will could take a break, talking to you laughing and gossiping about news lately and having fun and creating the mood for the actual club that Will, Lando and you will be going to after the pre party in the boat. You were sure you will regret going to another club but current you don't care about it, future you maybe.

You weren't a light weight by any means, starting drinking from a young age and in your teenage years going out drinking almost everyday drinking made it hard for you to get drunk so you were good by half of the actual party in the club but you wouldn't say lando was the same...

Cutting your night in the what you seen fit as to lando wouldn't start throwing up but you could see he was ready to do anyway calling a taxi and telling him the directions of your hotel so you won't drive while drunk.

Taking him by his bicep and wrapping one hand around his shoulder and the other in his arm you payed for the drinks you ordered and left, waiting for the taxi to arrive he was talking to you, whispered things, making sentences up that made no sense, talking gibberish almost falling in his face while you were laughing and loose the grip around him and quickly regaining strength keeping his upright the taxi finally arrived.

Getting him inside and going arout the car so you could take care of him he laid his head in your lap while you slowly and softly graced your hand through his brown curls and stroking his cheek softly while he closed his eyes smiled and opening one eye to look up at you periodically while you made small conversations with the driver which was a fan of the sport and you learned his daughter's favourite driver was you from a young age looking up at you and asking for a photo with you, he wanted a photo with lando but he was asleep so you decided against it, when you arrived you took his phone got a selfie with him and one alone from a high angle so he was visible but not his face just his hat and hoodie that he got out with, you paid the driver and slowly got out of the car and went around the car again opening the door taking his hand waking him up a little so he can get out but he feel asleep again on you as you closed the door.

You again wrapped a hand around him and holding his other firmly you opened the hotel door and getting inside the building, the receptionist was eyeing you but you didn't care you were determined to get him safe and tugged in, heading in the elevator you waited for the doors to close and pressing the button of your level.looking at the mirror you see on your dress a bit of blood from lando's nose you looked a bit disheveled with your eye sparkly eyeshadow somehow under your eye, the lipstick long gone now in its place your lip pencil a bit smeared around the corners of your mouth, in your forehead a little knob and in lando having his head buried in your neck seamingly asleep by his slow rhythmed breathing that was hitting your neck practically hugging you, the elevator pinged letting you know that you got to your floor you started trying to wake him up to stop hugging you but he didn't budged you decide to just carry him to your door which was easier taking out your card key which luckily you took out of your wallet in the taxi and opened the door.

Upon entering you left him to the bed trying once again to gently wake him up so he could change, you left the club at 4 :30 and now you read the clock it said 5 : 30 so you did all of this in an hour and in heels... He is gonna pay fro this but for now you laid a hoodie that you had oversized and long shorts again oversized that you knew that would fit you took your pj's and headed to the bathroom, you washed your face to get rid of the make up and changed out of the dress and heels.

Going again the the bed you saw lando's clothes messily tossed around the side of the bed he was occupying and in your clothes, the hoodie was one of your merch with a red bull logo in the back and you are not gonna tell that to him, wanting him to walk out with it, he was lying in your bed the covers covering most of him but his back and head out you took a picture and tugged him in and walking to your side of the bed pulling up the covers and getting in falling asleep almost instantly, felling a pair of hands wrapping around you and a head to your neck going closer to lando cuddling up on you and falling asleep peacefully

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Waking up in the morning was a struggle, you wouldn't say it was really a morning but evening waking up at 1pm by calls on your phone. Lando still asleep but starting to stir awake too by the annoying ringing of your phone you took your phone from the night stand you answered the phone without looking who it was

It was max

( the convo went like this)

Red : max / pink : y/n

Y/n? Why aren't you answering my calls? I have been calling you non stop from the morning where are you?

Max lower your voice... I have been sleeping what do you want? I am in my hotel room rn sleeping

Why are you still sleeping? What time did you leave the club last night?

4:30

Why? How did you get to the hotel?

Omg max can you interrogate me later? Let me sleep man...( a raspy voice could be heard in the background : stop talkinggg and then a sigh) shut up. Anyway I will call you back lat-

No! No don't fucking hang up! Are you with someone I heard a man! Who is he?!

Omg max! It's lando what do you want? I will talk to you later good bye!

I said and hand up the call not waiting for max to reply and rolled over now cuddling lando and falling asleep again for a few minutes then waking up by lando leaving the bed.

After he got a shower he came back and by then I dressed up to get food because I was starving waiting for lando you go together. We did you got a few pictures with fan and got food.

After that you called max and explained everything at some point max came with us to a few stored and hung out together and took max's plane and went to Monaco each to their own homes.

That's it thank you! ( not the end of the series tho)

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laurenairay · 10 months ago

Text

I can't help it if I like it - M. Martin

Summary: Dhara Nicholls is just trying to make ends meet while working on her Masters degree. Enter Matt Martin.

This is my entry for @wyattjohnston’s summer fic exchange 2k24! My giftee is @comphy-and-cozy and I hope I incorporated everything we discussed. This is the second longest fic I’ve ever written on here and I had genuinely so much fun writing it! Definitely written with a lot of creative license, not only because Matt and Sydney are couple goals, but also because I completely fudged the season dates. I also modelled Dhara’s degree and work after one of my best friends, and her Sikh faith after another friend, so it is as accurate as I could make it without experiencing it all myself.

I hope you enjoy it C! And thank you to Demi for reading through the first half of this monster!

Words: 13.7k

Warnings: age gap, flirting, pining, extremely slow burn, implied intimate moment, some bad language, changed names of Matt’s irl wife and children

Title from Shotput by Still Woozy Lyrics used from Middle of the Night by Elley Duhé

Waiter/Waitress…

Bartender…

Tutor…

Barista…

Cashier…

Of all the things to leave to the last minute. Dhara usually prided herself on her organisational skills, but with her summer internship taking up most of the past couple of months, finding a part-time job to give her disposable income (and food, for that matter) for the final year of her postgraduate degree had slipped her mind. Rents had gone up quite significantly in the past few months, so anything extra she had last year was pouring directly into paying for her tiny apartment, and she needed to eat, damn it.

Unfortunately, now that it was already August, there was nothing truly suitable. She needed flexible hours, that was for sure – some of her data modelling work couldn’t just be stopped in the middle of a good coding flow to pick up a shift at a bar. And some of her classes were online this final year, so she wouldn’t find it as easy to travel back and forth to a job on campus. Tutoring could potentially work but it would involve a fair amount of planning and structure that she wasn’t sure she could commit to.

This was the worst timing. And she’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t ask her parents for help, not when she was so close to finally finishing her education. But what could she do?

“Hey Dhara!”

She turned her head to the side quickly, dark curls whipping over her shoulder, before she smiled. The familiar voice indeed matched one of her former dormmates, Melissa. They had lived on the same floor in freshman year at NYU, but with limited student housing, most of the friends on that floor had gone their separate ways into private renting. She’d lost touch with a few of those girls too, after they graduated from their undergraduate degrees, but those she still kept in touch with had carried on their education like she had – only Melissa and another of their friends Janelle had taken up postgraduate study at Long Island University – Brooklyn though, so it was good to see her familiar face outside of the occasional coffee catch-ups, especially after the long summer break.

“Melissa! Hi! How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good, glad to be back in the city. How are you? Did you travel back to LA to see your parents in the end?”

“I’m pretty good too, thanks. And no, the internship offer was too good to turn down. My parents went on a few trips by themselves anyway, so it’s not like I missed out on too much time with them,” Dhara shrugged, smiling, “Now I’m just trying to get myself set up for final year.”

She loved her parents – really, she did – but she wasn’t as close to them as she had been growing up. The downfall of choosing to study far away from home. Dhara had barely been back to Los Angeles since she moved to New York when she turned 18, if she was being honest, and her parents valued her independence as well as her dedication to her studies. At least they could rely on video calls to see each other’s faces.

“Oh man, tell me about it. Shitty rent increases, right?” Melissa groaned.

“Exactly!” Dhara laughed, “I’m just trying to find something that’ll let me be flexible so I can graduate to the best of my ability, you know?”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Melissa sighed, smiling sympathetically, “I’ve got a couple of interviews at coffee chains lined up, but the hours are going to be brutal.”

Dhara grimaced. Yeah, there was a reason she wanted to avoid working as a barista unless there was no other option.

“Hey, you like kids, right?”

Dhara raised an eyebrow at her friend’s question. “I…do. I have plenty of cousins who have kids already, if that’s what you mean. Why?”

“A friend of my roommate works for a nannying agency. Completely certified company, really well paid, you can input your available hours into their website so they match you up, and they cater to a lot of wealthy clients. She told me they’re opening their books, but I’m not a huge kids person myself. If you’re interested, I could pass you her details?”

“Wait, really? Just like that?” Dhara asked, surprised.

It almost sounded too good to be true.

“Really really. The agency do background checks and would want to see your resume as well as do an interview with you in person, but I can’t see you getting rejected from this. You’re crazy smart and super competent,” Melissa shrugged, smiling.

Nannying. For a potentially wealthy client. There were a whole host of problems that could come from that, with both the parents and the children, but could the flexibility be worth it?

Then again, what did she have to lose?

“Okay sure, pass me her details and I’ll give your roommate’s friend a call,” Dhara smiled.

She could only hope this worked out in her favour.

Time was running out, Matt knew that much. There were only a few weeks before the season started up again, and it was beyond time for him to hire a nanny for his daughter. He’d been a single dad for two years now, his marriage ending mostly amicably. Sure, his ex-wife’s announcement that she was tired of following him around for his career had been hard, but not as hard as her second announcement that she was following her own career abroad. But she’d not contested anything he'd asked of her, and hadn’t made any unreasonable demands herself, so it was as clean as a divorce could be. Being solely responsible for the upbringing of their daughter Sarah was not something he’d been prepared for, not with his lifestyle. He knew he was lucky that his mom had been willing drop everything and move in with him after his wife left them, but it was time to let his mom live her own life – and for him to move on with his.

Hockey was his first love, nothing would change that. But his daughter Sarah had taken over so much of his heart that he was struggling with the idea of hiring a stranger to take care of her when hockey took precedence. But it was time – for all of them. In the end, he’d decided to go through a reputable agency that a few of the guys on the team recommended, but after three unsuccessful interviews Matt was just about ready to beg his mom to stay a little longer.

The first interview had started well. But it had quickly deteriorated when he realised that they weren’t as flexible as he needed. It was fair enough that the nanny wanted set hours – he knew his schedule was all over the place – but he obviously couldn’t offer that, so he wished them well and cut the interview short.

The second interview had started bad and gotten worse. He didn’t know if it was the way the woman smiled at him when he saw the elegant interior of the house or how she spoke of him being a single dad with a wide-eyed pity smile, but he didn’t like the vibes she was sending at all. He didn’t need a nanny that was more interested in him than his daughter. No, just no.

The third interview sounded promising on paper. The candidate had all the right qualifications and experience, but when it came down to processes and how she handled tantrums and tears? No way. He knew Sarah sometimes got upset when he was on long roadtrips – it was only natural – and there was no way he was leaving his daughter with someone who would punish her for showing understandable emotions.

So Matt could only hope that this fourth interview – his last for the day before he gave up and started from scratch – would finally be positive.

Dhara Nicholls.

When he’d first seen the name, he hadn’t known what to expect. Dar-Rah. That was how the agency lady had pronounced it, so he could only hope she was right – the last thing he wanted was to say the nanny’s name wrong out of ignorance. While he would ask for more detail during the interview, he knew the basics about her from the information the agency had sent over. Born and raised in Los Angeles, California, studied BS Computer Science at NYU, went on to study for a Masters in Computer Science at Long Island University – Brooklyn, and was currently in her final year for that. It was the flexibility that he was most intrigued by – and her apparent intelligence. He didn’t care that she didn’t have nannying experience outside of family. If she could take care of his daughter, make sure she was happy and healthy, that’s all that he cared about.

The doorbell rang right on time. Good start.

When he opened the door to greet her, Matt found himself freezing a little. He’d assumed that she wouldn’t be Caucasian based on her first name (as much as he hated assuming anything), but he somehow hadn’t been expecting the sheer beauty of the Indian woman standing in front of him now. At least he assumed she was Indian – and again with those assumptions. He would have to check for sure with some subtle questions because the last thing he wanted to do was act like an ass. But right now, her big beautiful brown eyes, smooth skin, glossy dark curls and sweet hopeful smile had his mind whirling. What was wrong with him?

“Hi! Mr Martin?”

Huh, a typical Valley girl accent. Not what he’d been expecting. Damn assumptions.

“Matt, please. Mr Martin makes me feel like my dad’s standing behind me,” he managed to force out.

The laugh that spilled from her lips sounded like music. He was doomed alright.

“Good to know. Matt it is,” she mused.

“Thanks, Dhara. Please come in,” he said, smiling warmly.

The way she smiled as he said her name let him know he’d said it right. Dar-Rah. Beautiful. No, he needed to be professional about this. He couldn’t let himself be bowled over by a beautiful girl, not when she was (hopefully) going to be employed by him. That wasn’t fair to her. Or to Sarah.

“Can I get you a drink? Water? Coffee?” he offered.

“Water would be great, if you don’t mind,” she nodded.

Matt quickly grabbed her a bottle of water from the fridge, before leading her into the living room, handing her the bottle as they sat down on opposite sofas. She was tall even in flat shoes, maybe 5ft10, and she looked around the room with a smile before her eyes landed on Matt. Captivating.

“Let’s start, shall we?” he said, trying to clear his thoughts.

Right from the get-go, she was impressive. Her upbringing in Los Angeles was very family-orientated, living near her father’s 3 siblings and all their children, her cousins. Her studies alone were remarkable but the way he could tell how passionate she was for her work was the most interesting part of all. He liked that she could be flexible with timings, happy to stay overnight in a guest room during roadtrips, and she was willing to work around her class schedule to even take classes from his house while Sarah was occupied with something she could still keep an eye on. It was more than he could have asked for, if he was being honest. It was all just a bonus that she was warm and genuine on top of it all.

Matt knew what he wanted the conclusion of this interview to be. Dhara was exactly what he’d been looking for, and he knew that Sarah would quickly accept her too. He could only hope that she felt like she’d been a good fit for them too.

“Is there anything else you wanted to know?” she asked.

“I think I have everything I need. I’m not going to lie, this whole process has been a struggle,” Matt admitted, “Trying to figure out who to trust my daughter with is the last thing I thought I’d be doing.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dhara said softly, smiling sadly at him, “Would you like me to take any preferences back with me to the agency? So the next person is a better fit for you?”

If he hadn’t been convinced about her before, he absolutely was now.

“You don’t need to take feedback to the agency, Dhara. Because I want to offer you the job,” he said, smiling.

Her lips parted slightly in surprise, before a wide grin spread over her face. Somehow the pure joy in her expression made her even more beautiful, if that was even possible.

“Thank you, Mr Martin. Thank you so much!” Dhara said happily.

“You’re welcome. You’re exactly who I was hoping to find for my daughter. And please, call me Matt, remember?” he mused.

“Of course, whatever you want…Matt,” she said, ducking her head slightly to hide what looked like a shy smile.

Whatever you want.

Now that was just dangerous.

Dhara felt like she was dreaming. Three days ago, when Matt had actually offered her the job, she’d felt like her head was spinning, and it wasn’t until she had the official contract sorted and signed with the agency that everything started to sink in. He was willing to be as flexible as she needed, in return for her being as flexible as he needed – it was a small price to pay to stay in the guest room when he was away for her to still be able to attend all her classes. The only thing they’d had to negotiate was her one in-person class every two weeks that she couldn’t do online that was outside of Sarah’s Kindergarten hours, which he’d arranged for one of his teammate’s wives to look after Sarah for a couple of hours until she was finished. And wasn’t that a trip, learning who he was. An NHL player. She was really going to be the nanny for an NHL player’s six year old daughter, and she could still complete her degree. Mindblowing. The only thing that was still sort of in the works were the Kindergarten drop offs themselves – she wouldn’t be put on the accepted pick-up person list until after a first week’s trial, just to make sure Sarah was okay with her. It was fair enough, but still nervewracking. Matt apparently had full faith that everything would be fine though, and had already given her all the details. Drop off was between 8.30am and 9am, and pick up was at 2.30pm – Matt was happy for her to work from his house on the days she didn’t have to go into campus, to save travelling back and forth, which she was absolutely going to take him up on. It almost felt too good to be true, that everything was working out the way it was, but she wasn’t going to let such a good opportunity to balance work and her degree slip through her fingers.

When Dhara arrived at Matt’s house, having been given a brief introduction to Sarah before Sarah excused herself to the living room, she tried not to let the nerves get to her. Matt looked lighter, like a weight had been taken off his shoulders, and she could only hope it was partly to do with her. He might be nearly 10 years older than her, but he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever laid eyes on, that was for sure. Not that she’d ever tell her new employer these completely inappropriate thoughts of course.

“Now, I have some meetings and final pre-season things to film and so on at the rink today. I’m hoping it’ll all be done in a few hours but it’ll be a good little start for Sarah to get used to me and my mom not being around. I’ve already explained everything to her, and I think she understands the concept of a nanny and that it was time for grandma to get back to her own life in Canada, but if there are any major issues then please call me,” he said seriously.

“I’m sure everything will be fine, especially if you’ve already talked with her, but I absolutely will call you if Sarah needs you. And please don’t rush home? You deserve to spend some time catching up with your friends. Team bonding, and all that, especially if someone suggests lunch. Sarah and I will be fine, I promise,” Dhara said firmly, but with a smile she hoped was encouraging.

Matt let out a shaky breath but nodded, and her heart ached for him. She could tell how much this was affecting him – it was obvious – but the whole reason for her being here was to make his life easier. She could do that, she knew it.

“Sarah, I’m going to the rink!”

She smiled to herself at the sound of fast-paced walking (not running inside the house was clearly a rule) and soon enough Sarah was clinging to her dad’s legs.

“Be nice to Dhara,” Matt said, smiling warmly.

“I’m always nice!” she said, pouting.

He just ruffled her blonde hair, nodding to Dhara with a shaky smile, giving Sarah one last hug before leaving the house. This was it – Dhara was officially responsible for the wellbeing of a child.

“I’m going back to colouring. You can come if you want.”

How generous. Dhara grinned to herself at the young girl’s candour, following her quietly through the house back to the living room where Sarah had a small stack of paper and colouring pencils laid out. Sarah seemed happy enough to thump back down onto the floor and continue with her drawing, silent but focused, and Dhara watched for a little while from the doorway. The most important thing for today – and the rest of this week – was for Sarah to feel comfortable in her presence. She’d never had any problems getting her cousins’ children to like her, so she could only hope the same gentle methods would work with this child.

Sarah didn’t seem to mind Dhara sitting down next to her, barely giving her a glance, allowing her to settle in quietly. So far so good. After a few minutes of Dhara watching her peacefully, Sarah slid a piece of paper over to Dhara, and looked up at her with blue eyes eerily similar to her father’s.

“I’m drawing a picture for daddy, to make him smile when he gets home,” Sarah said simply.

“That’s very kind of you. I’m sure he’ll love it,” Dhara said, melting on the inside at the sweetness.

Sarah side-eyed her briefly before seeming to deem Dhara’s answer acceptable.

“You should draw him one too. He likes my pictures so I’m sure yours will be fine,” she said, sliding over the colouring pencil box.

Kids. You had to love them.

“I will do my very best then,” Dhara said seriously.

Sarah just nodded, going back to her drawing with all the focus a six-year-old could. Dhara just smiled to herself, picking up a pink crayon to attempt to draw some flowers. This was a good start, right?

The first month of Dhara’s employment (and final year of her degree) flew by. Somehow, everything was going well so far. There were no dramas, no big issues, and her classes weren’t unmanageable with her new schedule. She could admit that it initially felt weird to be dropping a kid off at Kindergarten that wasn’t hers, especially so early on into knowing Sarah, but that first big smile her charge had given her at pick-up time made everything better. Like, genuinely her heart felt like it had puffed up in size – yeah that’s right, I made her smile – and everything had only gotten better from there. They’d even settled into a decent routine, to the point where Matt even joked that Dhara was becoming Sarah’s favourite person (apparently her bedtime stories were the best?) – and neither of them had even looked at her like she was crazy when she explained her work for her Computer Science Masters like most people tended to.

(“Daddy she’s so smart.” “I know sweetheart.” “I want to be as smart as Dhara when I grow up!” “Well then you’d better show me the new spellings you learned at Kindergarten today.”)

She’d only needed to stay an extra night in the guest room once so far for a roadtrip, which also felt weird, but Matt’s flight had been delayed so there really wasn’t another choice. Thankfully, he’d been there by the time Sarah woke up, so there had been no major tantrums, but the bedtime tears were still an experience she hoped to avoid as much as possible. After looking at Matt’s schedule, she knew exactly how many roadtrips he was going to be on, so hopefully she could come up with some ideas for what to do if that ever happened again.

There were many things she was learning in this new world of being a nanny.

She knew she’d be learning something new tonight too. It was the first game of the pre-season and Matt was in the line-up to play. Traditionally, Sarah always went, and tonight was no exception. Dhara had been hesitant to accept the ticket initially, content with dropping Sarah off with the WAGs she knew and picking her up at the end, because she was quite literally just the nanny - but Matt insisted. He also insisted that Sarah wanted her there too, and how was she supposed to say no to that?

The plan would be that Dhara and Sarah would take the train over to the arena with plenty of time to spare ahead of warmups (so Sarah could hold her newly-made poster up against the glass), and then Matt would drive them all back to the Martin house – with the late timings, Dhara would need to stay late again. At least this time she had enough clothes in her overnight bag packed.

Nerves washed over Dhara as she entered the UBS Arena, but with Sarah chattering away, holding tight to her hand, it wasn’t too difficult to cover her nerves with a smile. She’d already met Kristy Cizikas – the teammate’s wife who covered looking after Sarah during Dhara’s class once every two weeks – so she would at least know one friendly face. Sarah led the way to the family suite, Dhara making sure her pass was clearly on display so no-one thought she was a fraud, and soon enough they arrived to a blonde-haired sea.

“Dhara! There you are!”

Kristy. Good.

She was thankful for the instantly-warm welcome – she was so out of her comfort zone that it wasn’t funny. Tonight really was her first time being thrown in at the deep end. At least she’d have a break soon to collect her thoughts when everyone in the suite (who wanted to) would head down to the ice for warm-ups. She could do this. She could totally do this. It helped that Kristy introduced her around the group, Grace Lee in particular making her feel at ease with her beaming smile.

The game itself was electric. Dhara mostly kept her eye on Sarah playing with the other kids in the family suite – you know, as it was her job – but by the start of the third period Sarah had fallen asleep on her lap, leaving her free to watch her first ever game of ice hockey with her full attention. Grace helped her out by murmuring along some of the rules and pointing out names of people that Dhara didn’t know yet, and she just felt herself getting fully entranced. She’d never seen anything so graceful and yet so physical. And the speed!

Dhara felt like a bit of an idiot for gasping when Matt full-body checked a player from the opposing team into the boards with a load crash, immediately throwing his gloves off to fight him, her eyes wide as Matt easily took him down to the ice. Fuck, that was hot. Why was that so hot? She could only thank her dark skin for hiding the worst of her blush as Grace and Kristy smiled knowingly at her. Whatever, they didn’t know anything. They could infer all they liked.

That didn’t mean her eyes stopped tracking Matt every second he was on the ice though.

“How was she tonight? Truly?”

Dhara smiled up at Matt, shifting a sleeping Sarah up on her hip as Matt unlocked the front door.

“She was so good. The way her face lit up when you saw her sign in warmups? She didn’t stop talking about it for ages. And she fell asleep on me during the third period so I just let her nap, I hope that’s okay,” Dhara said.

“Of course it is. I’m happy that she feels comfortable enough to do that around you!” he said, smiling.

She was too. She really was.

“I’ll put Sarah to bed, if you want to sort out your bandage?” she offered.

The cuts on his knuckles from his fight had needed a couple of stitches and would need to be cleaned then covered for at least one night, he’d told her that much on the drive home.

“You’re the best,” Matt said, nodding.

Dhara just grinned and headed up the stairs. It didn’t take her long to carefully lay Sarah down in her bed, pulling off her shoes before tucking the duvet over her. But as she slowly crept out of the room and gently shut the door, she could hear Matt cursing in the bathroom, and she frowned.

“Matt?” she whispered, trying not to wake up her young charge.

He cursed again, so she knocked on the bathroom door, and smiled slightly as he cursed in surprise and slowly opened the door.

“The bandage is caught on the dried blood in the stitch and I can’t get it off. Don’t want to rip it,” he murmured when her head poked around the door.

“Let me?” she offered, slowly walking into the room.

Dhara looked up at him through her lashes, holding her hand out, and Matt silently placed his hand in hers. His skin was warm, if a little callused, and it was all she could do to bite her bottom lip as she gently eased the bandage off his knuckles. Matt didn’t take his hand away as she reached for the cotton ball he’d already dipped in the cleansing liquid, allowing her to gently dab at the stitches until they were clean. The two of them stood close together, silent, only their hands touching, and yet somehow this was more intimate than she’d ever been with any man. It was intoxicating to be allowed to take this level of care with him. It was only when she gently pressed down the edges of the fresh bandage that she caught eyes with him once more, the intense blue making her breath catch in her throat, and she forced herself to break out of the moment.

Because it was a moment, and she didn’t know if it thrilled her or terrified her.

“That should be okay now,” she murmured, finally letting go of his hand.

“Thank you, Dhara. I appreciate it,” he said, voice just as soft.

Intoxicating.

Dhara just smiled, nodding her head as she slipped out of the bubble he’d unknowingly boxed her into, and stepped out of the bathroom with a racing heart. She needed to pull herself together. She needed to pull herself together, fast. Otherwise she was going to run the risk of ruining everything.

“So give us the details then.”

Matt took a sip of his beer, before frowning at Casey.

“What are you talking about?”

Casey shared a glance with Anders, who just smirked and shook his head incredulously. What?

“Seriously, what details?” Matt asked.

“About Dhara?” Anders prompted.

“Kristy and Grace told us all about meeting her at the game last week, how she was super sweet with Sarah and how much Sarah adored her. What really caught our attention was that they told us about her reaction to your fight. How her eyes lit up, how she gasped, how she was on the edge of her seat,” Casey said innocently, although the sparkle in his eyes was anything but.

“Shut up, she did not,” Matt grumbled.

Their words lit something inside of his though. It was just typical that they waited to interrogate him until they were all six beers deep at Casey’s house, Kristy and Grace having a girls night slash kids sleepover with some of the other WAGs, including Sarah. They were gossip vultures, the lot of them.

Did she really react like that?

He hadn’t been able to get that night out of his mind. The way Dhara came into the bathroom so carefully, like she was trying not to spook a horse. How she held his hand so gently, her skin surprisingly warm and soft. How her cleaning touch was so light that he’d barely felt it, how her ministrations hadn’t hurt at all. How her gaze had been so intense when they caught eyes that he’d felt his breath catch in his throat.

Matt hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that moment they’d shared, and it was driving him crazy knowing there was no way she was having the same thoughts.

But then again, if Casey and Anders were right, if Kristy and Grace were right, maybe she was?

“Bud, you know Grace wouldn’t gossip if she didn’t think there was some truth to it,” Anders mused.

He wasn’t wrong there.

“Dhara is my nanny. Sarah’s nanny. Everything is completely professional,” Matt said firmly.

“Everything is completely professional?” Casey prodded.

“Yes?”

At the hesitance in his tone, Casey and Anders grinned.

“I knew it!” Casey hooted.

“What happened?” Anders asked, eyes lighting up.

“Nothing! Literally nothing has happened. She cleaned the stitches on my knuckles for me because I couldn’t get the bandage off, that’s it,” Matt said sharply.

“Booooooo.”

“Seriously, don’t make it a thing. I don’t want her thinking that I’m some kind of creep,” he groaned.

“Now why would she think that, if you weren’t having creepy thoughts?” Anders teased.

Matt sent them both a flat look, making them hoot with laughter.

“Aww you have it so bad!” Casey cackled.

“You two are the worst. I don’t know why we’re friends,” he muttered.

“You love us,” Anders grinned, toasting him with his beer bottle.

Matt just stuck his tongue out in response, taking a big swig of his own drink. He needed to nip all of this in the bud. There was no way he wanted this to get back to Grace and Kristy, and then back to Dhara. Absolutely not.

“She is pretty,” Casey said, smirking slightly, “Kristy said her smile and her laugh lit up the whole room.”

“And Grace said that Sarah worships her, literally fell asleep on her without a care in the world,” Anders added.

They both knew his weaknesses so well. Matt groaned, tilting his head back, before staring his friends down.

“Enough, okay? Yes, Dhara is beautiful. And smart. And so beyond capable with Sarah that it isn’t funny. But I’m not going to be that guy, okay? I’m her boss and I’m not even going to consider crossing that professional boundary, understood? That’s not cool,” Matt said seriously, “I’m not that guy.”

“We know you’re not,” Casey mused, holding his hands up in surrender.

Anders just nodded his agreement. “We only tease you because we love you. And like I said, I wouldn’t have brought it up if Grace hadn’t seen something herself.”

“Just…don’t make it a thing? I don’t want to make Dhara uncomfortable around me. Sarah adores her and that’s all that matters,” Matt sighed, mostly in defeat.

“If you’re sure, then we won’t,” Anders said.

“But we reserve the right to change our minds later,” Casey grinned.

“Oh my god, get me another drink,” Matt groaned.

Seriously, the worst.

Sparkling lights, tinsel, and candy canes everywhere – it only meant one thing. Christmas was coming. With continuous snowfall and the way that she couldn’t escape Christmas songs anywhere, Dhara could hardly deny its upcoming presence, especially with how excited Sarah was getting. As usual, Dhara wasn’t going home for the two weeks break, and the moment Matt found out that her roommate was going home (leaving Dhara alone), he insisted that she came over to spend Christmas day with him, Sarah, and his parents.

(“Matt, no, I can’t intrude.” “No-one should be alone on Christmas.”)

He even tried to offer to pay her for coming over, with that she put her foot down. Christmas was Christmas, after all. In the end, they decided that, with her last class of the semester on the 19th, Dhara would stay over from the 20th to the 22nd, until his parents arrived on the 23rd. They would take over taking care of Sarah with Matt not getting home until late in the evening of the 23rd, and then Dhara would come back over on the 25th, leaving again in the evening of the 26th. It was a lot of back and forth, she could admit, but she’d never had someone in her life so insistent that she spend the holidays with them – and the fact that it was Matt? She couldn’t find it in her heart to say no, especially when he got Sarah and her puppy dog eyes on the case.

Somehow, travelling on the trains on Christmas Day wasn’t as bad as she feared, even with her overnight bag and holdall of gifts. It was only lightly snowing on her short walk to Matt’s house, so she wasn’t fully shivering when she knocked on the door but she was definitely glad that Matt didn’t take too long to open it.

“Hey, you made it! Why didn’t you call me from the station? I would’ve picked you up!” he said quickly beckoning her inside.

“I’m used to the walk now, and I didn’t want to disturb you,” she shrugged, unwinding the scarf from her neck.

“You would never have disturbed me. You’re…never mind, come into the kitchen, my mom’s making hot chocolate,” Matt murmured.

She left her bags in the hallway after taking off her boots, coat, and woolly hat, nervously following Matt into the kitchen. Why was she so nervous to meet his family?

“Guys, Dhara’s here!”

“Dhara! You made it!” Sarah cried out happily.

She knelt down to give her charge a big hug, grateful for the friendly face, before standing up with a nervous smile.

“I’ve heard so much about you – I’m Dawn,” Matt’s mom said, big smile on her face identical to Matt’s.

“And I’m Jim. It’s great to finally meet you,” Matt’s dad said warmly.

Was it really that easy?

“I’ve heard only good things about you too. Thank you for letting me join your family Christmas,” she said, smiling back at them.

“Letting you? I had to practically beg you,” Matt teased.

“Because I see you all year round – your parents don’t get that luxury,” she shot back, still smiling.

“I like you already,” Jim laughed.

“Drinks anyone?” Matt mused.

Once the hot chocolate was passed around, they made their way into the living room, Dhara having grabbed her holdall on the way with the gifts.

“I like your scarf, Dhara,” Sarah piped up, once she was settled on a big cushion on the floor.

Dhara’s fingers brushed over the lightweight blue patterned material draped over her chest and pinned in pleats at her shoulders with a smile. She didn’t usually indulge in her South Asian heritage with her outfits, but her holidays it always felt like a must. She might be wearing a casual plain grey sweater underneath, with light wash jeans, but the chanderi dupatta added a much-needed level of elegance – a casual but respectful outfit. Her mother had loved it at least when she called her this morning, and it was nice to know that Sarah did too.

“Thank you! It’s a dupatta – many South Asian women wear them in many different styles. I like to wear a chanderi dupatta, this lightweight patterned silk, over casual clothes to add a little something extra,” she said, smiling.

“It’s really pretty. Never seen you wearing anything like that,” Matt said softly.

“Thanks,” Dhara said, thankful her dark skin hid her blush, “I tend to only wear dupattas for special occasions. I don’t practice Sikhism as much as I did back in LA, and even then not nearly as much as my mother would’ve liked us all too.”

“Why not?” Sarah asked.

“Sarah!” Matt frowned.

“It’s okay, really,” she said, reassuring, “Well, my upbringing was fairly mixed. My mom’s parents came over from Punjab when they were newly married – my Baba Ji, my grandpa, is an Engineer. My mom and her brothers were born and raised Sikh in Los Angeles. Mom met Dad in university and they fell in love. The only problem was, he was Christian. Or at least, loosely Christian – and very white. While my mom didn’t care about all of that, because she’d fallen head over heels for him and him for her, her parents didn’t approve. She left home and married him anyway, and we haven’t really seen much of my mom’s side of the family ever.”

“But they fell in love!” Sarah cried.

“Culture and religion are complicated things,” Dhara said simply, smiling sadly, “my mom knew what she was giving up, she was very brave. She still had a lot of her friends in the community so she had that connection, and Dad’s family is huge and loud and welcoming, so she never felt alone. She raised me with a knowledge of Sikhism and the welcome to join her in celebrating any holidays I wanted to, but my parents left me to forge my own path, which I did. I have some contact with cousins on my mom’s side thanks to Instagram, so it’s not all a loss. I like to think I get the best of both worlds.”

She couldn’t have asked for more with her upbringing, she knew that. Dhara had been given the world, and been taught kindness for others always, and had an education that others could only dream of, and all the love she could ever want from her parents. She also knew that sometimes her mom struggled but that she had her husband, Dhara’s dad, to rely on for strength. Her mom truly was a hero of hers, and she could only be grateful for everything she’d done for her.

“Thank you for sharing that with us. It can’t always be easy, being so far away from your family,” Matt said softly.

“It isn’t always, no. But I’m following my passion with my degrees, and they understand that,” Dhara nodded, smiling at him, “Besides, we have modern technology, no?”

Matt and his parents just laughed, making her smile a bit wider.

“But Dhara, what about…”

“How about we give Dhara a break from interrogation and pass out gifts, hm?” Dawn mused, interrupting Sarah.

Dhara laughed, shrugging, Sarah just pouting.

“You can ask more questions later okay?” Matt said, glancing up at Dhara to make sure she was okay with that.

Dhara just nodded. The way he checked to confirm with her sent out butterflies she tried desperately to ignore. This was not the time.

As they all passed around presents, Dhara had been pleasantly surprised to learn that she had gifts to open too. She hadn’t expected anything from his parents but they’d still surprised her anyway, with a gorgeous earrings and necklace set that felt fancier than anything she owned in New York. Sarah had gifted her a set of pens and a pretty notebook (which she’d picked out herself, apparently) and she’d looked so pleased with herself that it warmed Dhara’s heart.

For Matt’s mom, she’d gifted her a set of Indian spices, because Matt had told her in passing that his mom liked to cook from all different cuisines – so she’d bought her cumin seeds, coriander powder, garam masala, turmeric, and green cardamom. Dawn had looked so touched when she opened them, giving Dhara a big hug that she hadn’t been expecting. Matt’s dad looked just as pleased by his craft beer tasting tour back home in Ontario, and promised to give her reviews of every single one.

Sarah had squealed in happiness at the book Dhara bought her. A Is for Awesome: 23 Iconic Women Who Changed the World. It was important for Sarah to learn about how powerful she could be as a woman, and from Matt’s smile he seemed to agree with her.

For Matt – she’d bought him a cufflink box.

“I’m always losing cufflinks on roadtrips. You remembered,” Matt murmured.

The way her heart fluttered. Wow.

“And now you have a place to store 4 sets, wherever you go,” Dhara said softly.

“Thank you, this is…I love it,” Matt grinned.

Well now she was a goner.

Her last gift to open was from Matt. Again she hadn’t expected anything from him – he was opening his home to her on Christmas, after all – but when she opened the instant camera, Fujifilm Instax Mini with multiple packs of film cards, her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest.

“Matt, this is…wow. This is too much!” she gasped.

“You’ve talked about wanting to preserve memories and I thought this would be a fun way to do it,” he shrugged.

A fun way to preserve memories. A whole ass camera. This was just like him.

“Thank you,” she murmured, smiling so widely at him that it hurt.

Matt just smiled helplessly at her in return.

“Can you tell me more about Sikh stuff now please?”

Sarah’s pleading interruption made her laugh, saving her from the explosion of butterflies in her stomach. “If your family don’t mind, I’m happy to tell you more about Sikhism, sure.”

Dhara looked at Matt and his parents, who all nodded and smiled at her. Well, here goes nothing. Time for a basic lesson in Sikhism.

“Sikhism was founded by Guru Nanak around 500 years ago in an area called the Punjab. That’s where my grandparents came from on my mother’s side, if you remember – Punjab is an area which spans part of India and Pakistan now, and they come from the Indian side of it. There are lot of different elements to Sikhism, but some of the main things that Sikhs believe are that your actions are important, and you should lead a good life. You should keep God in your heart and mind at all times, live honestly and work hard, treat everyone equally, be generous to those less fortunate than you, and to serve others,” Dhara listed.

“That sounds really nice,” Sarah said, smiling.

Dhara smiled back at her, heart warmed by the sweet words.

“It is, yes. I don’t attend temple, the Gurdwara, as much as I should, but it’s always really peaceful there. I always try to go for Lohri, the harvest festival in January, and I definitely celebrate Diwali in late October because my family always has, but there are many more holy days that Sikhs commemorate,” Dhara explained.

“Can you tell me about them?” Sarah asked hopefully.

Dhara glanced around the room, seeing Matt and his parents listening raptly, and nodded.

“Of course I can! Firstly…”

“Watch yourself, Matthew.”

Matt lifted his head from where he was washing up, seeing his mom standing next to him with a dish towel in hand. His dad, Sarah, and Dhara were all in the living room still, playing Go Fish, but Matt and his mom had moved to the kitchen to tackle at least some of the dishes.

“What?” he said, frowning.

“Don’t think I can’t see the way you look at Dhara,” she said pointedly.

Fuck.

Matt took a shaky breath and opened his mouth to protest, but his mom quickly shook her head.

“She is a lovely young woman with a bright future. Unless you can see marriage in the cards, then don’t mess her around. She deserves the best,” his mom said firmly.

Oh.

“Yes, yes she does,” he murmured.

With Matt’s parents staying through until the 2nd January, the day before her classes started up again, Dhara had the full rest of the week to herself. The only thing she had planned was getting through work for her Database Management Systems class, but Dawn and Jim had insisted that she came to the game with them on the 28th. That whole evening had been so wholesome; it was clear exactly how much Matt’s parents loved and supported him, and to see his smiling face when they went down to see him after the game? Heartwarming. Matt had also asked her to come to the New Year’s Eve party that Anders and Grace were throwing – his parents weren’t going to that, but he’d paid for them to have a nice dinner in Manhattan for their own celebration. Dhara almost said no to Matt’s invitation (because who was she to go to a private event like that?), but when he said that Grace had invited her specifically, she couldn’t resist. An invite from Grace Lee to her own party was not something that someone turned down. She knew she’d made the right decision when Grace texted her to say how excited she was that Dhara was coming, which made her feel like a little bit less of an intruder.

What was it with these people and forgetting she was literally just the nanny?

“You look nice,” Matt murmured.

“No daddy, Dhara looks beautiful,” Sarah said firmly.

Dhara laughed, ducking her head shyly just in time to miss the way Matt blushed. Her black sparkly long-sleeved bodycon dress was something that she kept on hand as the only semi-formal thing she had in her closet – so it was really her only option for the Lee’s New Year’s Eve party tonight.

“You’re right, my apologies Sarah,” Matt mused, grinning, “You do look beautiful, Dhara.”

Even if it was prompted by his daughter, it was still spine-tingling to hear Matt say those words.

“You’re too kind, both of you,” she laughed, shaking her head.

Matt just winked before kneeling down to help Sarah put her shoes on, leaving Dhara more flustered than she’d ever been in her life. Thankfully they didn’t have to wait long for the car service that Matt had insisted on, and soon enough their party of three arrived.

“Ah, welcome Martins and Nicholls!”

Dhara giggled at Anders’ booming voice, Matt rolling his eyes fondly as they entered the house.

“Thanks for having us,” Matt mused, handing over a bottle of very nice bourbon to his Captain.

Anders just grinned. “You’re always welcome, bud. Grace is in the kitchen making cocktails for the girls – we’re not invited to that, Matt, but you should definitely head in there so you don’t miss any good gossip, Dhara.”

“Oh, but Sarah…”

“Sarah can stick with me while we go and say hi to all her uncles before they get too drunk, hm?” Matt suggested.

“Drunk Uncle Casey is funny,” Sarah giggled.

“That settles it then!” Anders said cheerfully.

He pointed Dhara in the direction the kitchen and whisked Matt and Sarah away, leaving Dhara reeling. This wasn’t what she had expected at all – and now she was being shuffled over to the WAGs like she had any right to be there?

“Dhara! There you are! Grace is just finishing a fresh batch of mojitos – join us!”

She let out a shaky breath at Kristy’s happy exclamation, but followed her with a smile. She could totally do this. She could go with the flow, especially with Matt’s insistence, and she could just get back to watching Sarah after this drink, right? If Matt was okay with it?

In truth, nothing happened the way she thought it would over the night. While she did return back to watching over Sarah, all of the other WAGs with kids insisted they she took breaks to enjoy herself because they could all chip in to watch the kids. It did make her feel weird because hello, it was literally her job to nanny, but Matt’s happy face every time she took a break to socialise was too strong to resist. The main thing that struck her though was how much she stuck out like a sore thumb. Not just in terms of appearance – she figured she was going to be one of the only people of colour there – but just in terms of importance? Not even all the team was here – the youngest ones were off clubbing apparently, which made Dhara all the more aware of how intimate this gathering was. She didn’t belong here, not in this world. What was her life coming to?

She didn’t know if Matt’s presence helped either. All through the night he made she sure had enough to drink (she stuck to water or soda after that first lethal mojito from Grace) and enough to eat. He included her in every conversation, introduced her to people she hadn’t met yet, and checked in on her when she was watching Sarah. Every time she could see a couple of his teammates and/or the WAGs smirking slightly – but not in a mean way. And certainly not mocking her. It was confusing to say the least, like the lines were blurring without giving her any way to read the meaning of the situation, and it was all she could do to try to let it go. Matt was just being a gentleman, that was all.

When it came to a couple of minutes until the ball drop though, Dhara found herself squished onto a sofa in front of the TV that Anders was setting up, with Sarah fast asleep on her lap and Matt sitting down at her side.

“Champagne?” Matt said, holding out a second glass.

“I suppose one glass couldn’t hurt to bring in the new year,” Dhara mused.

She tried to ignore the way her stomach fizzled as their fingers brushed. Eventually, with just 30 seconds to spare, the living room was packed with party guests, Dhara essentially pressed fully up into Matt’s side. All she could do was remember to breathe, keeping her focus anchored on Sarah to distract herself from the warmth of his thigh against hers. It was intoxicating to say the least, and she was grateful at least for the noise of the room drowning out her thoughts.

“3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

As fireworks exploded across the screen and out the windows, and couples embraced all around the room, Dhara’s breath caught in the throat as she looked up at Matt to see him already looking down at her.

“Happy New Year, Dhara,” he murmured.

“Happy New Year,” she said softly back.

The intensity in his eyes made fire burn through her skin, barely softened by the champagne she poured down her throat. The way he looked at her…it almost felt real.

Dhara’s birthday was always a strange time of year for her. She never did anything massive to celebrate it, just casual dinner and drinks with friends and a phone call with her parents, but this year it fell at the end of January on a Saturday, at the end of Matt’s bye week. He had no other plans that spending time with Sarah anyway, so he gave her the week off to relax.

Relax, hah.

She had her thesis proposal to finish, with the final submission of the full finished thing due at the beginning of May, but she’d managed to sort out the data she wanted to use in the first half of January – so she was able to use her week off from nannying to finish the proposal. She holed herself up in her bedroom, surrounded by drinks and snacks, barely taking any breaks other than to reassure her roommate that she was still alive, until she submitted it to her supervising professor.

It was worth it, to feel like she’d accomplished something she was proud of.

Dhara emerged from her ‘coding cave’ the day before her birthday, her roommate shoving her straight into the shower while she ordered them both Thai food to celebrate. It felt good to have a little time to actually relax before her birthday, because before dinner and drinks with her friends, Matt had planned a surprise lunch for her.

She should have expected the restaurant he chose to be a fancy one. She’d never eaten anywhere so nice, not even when her parents came up for her undergraduate degree graduation.

“I have one more surprise for you,” Matt announced, just as he paid the bill, “if you have time to come back to the house with us.”

Sarah was basically wriggling in her seat, quietly begging please please please, and how could Dhara say no to that? All through the drive back to Matt’s house, Sarah was whispering to him and giggling away, making Dhara smile to herself. Seeing the young girl so excited made her excited – and after the incredible surprise Christmas gift he’d gotten her? She could only hope it wasn’t something crazy.

“Okay Sarah, you go ahead and open the door while I make sure Dhara isn’t peeking,” Matt said with a smile.

“What,” she said flatly.

Matt just smiled innocently, stepping behind her, and it was all Dhara could to do gasp as he gently placed his hands over her eyes from behind. Fuck.

“Door’s open daddy!”

“Okay sweetheart, why don’t you take Dhara’s hands and slowly guide her indoors,” Matt instructed, “if you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah sure, go for it,” Dhara laughed.

As if her today could get any stranger than this. So with Sarah’s small hands in hers and Matt’s large hands over her eyes (his cologne smelled so good this close, it was unreal), Dhara was slowly guided into the Martin house, taking heed of Sarah’s instructions not to bash into things, until she was standing in what she was sure was the rarely-used dining room. Matt and Sarah always preferred to eat at the kitchen island, but she knew where this room was. Why was she here?

“Ready?” Matt asked.

“Ready. I think,” Dhara mused.

Sarah let go of her hands at the same time as Matt removed his, and as soon as she opened her eyes, her breath caught in her throat. What the hell. In front of her, on the dining room table, were two computer screens, high definition and huge, with a docking station and all the appropriate wires to connect them to a laptop. To her laptop? What the hell.

“Matt…” she breathed.

Sarah just giggled at her reaction before skipping out of the room, leaving them alone. Leaving Dhara with her mind whirling.

“I know you were talking about how it’s easier to see your code side by side, and rather than doing the split screen thing you have been doing on just your laptop, I thought this would be more helpful,” he explained.

He remembered that from her rambling? He was listening?

“I can’t believe you bought me two computer screens. And a docking station. This is too much, Matt, really. I can’t accept them,” she murmured.

This was so personal – no-one had ever paid attention to her like this, and it was coming from him?

“Hey, no, this is important for you. For your work. I want to make sure that you have everything that you need to finish your degree in the best way possible – you’ve done so much for us and I just wanted to do this little thing for you. Besides, you only turn 25 once, right?”

“This isn’t little, Matt. And I’m just a nanny, I’ve barely done anything,” Dhara protested.

“If that’s all that you think you are to Sarah, and to me, then I’m clearly not doing enough to show you differently,” he said firmly.

The tone of his voice made her shiver in all the right ways.

“Matt, I…”

She trailed off at the intense look he was giving her.

“Happy birthday, Dhara,” Matt murmured, smiling softly.

It was all she could do to hug him tightly, sinking slightly into his chest as his arms immediately wrapped around her too. His shirt was soft against her cheek, that intoxicating cologne filling her senses, so much so that as she moved to break the hug, she impulsively kissed his cheek. Fuck. Dhara froze for a moment, stunned at her own audacity, but as she leaned back, Matt looked just as stunned – other than the pleased smile on his lips.

“Sarah! Come and say goodbye to Dhara so she can go out with her friends!” he called out, dropping his arms to let her go.

Dhara smiled at the sound of pattering footsteps, even more so as Sarah hugged her legs tightly.

“Dhara! You’re still my friend too, right?”

Be still her beating heart.

“Of course I am. I’ll be back here on Monday, ready for Kindergarten as usual,” she promised.

“Good. Happy birthday Dhara!” Sarah said happily.

Matt’s eyes never left her once.

With only a few weeks left until Spring Break, Dhara didn’t know where her final year of her degree was going. She knew she was going to use that Spring Break time to finish as much of her thesis as possible – and she knew she was going to be spending the whole week at Matt’s. Her new computer screens had stayed at his house as there was way more room for her to work there, and the couple of occasions she’d used them there for her classwork and he’d been home, he always smiled a pleased little smile like he was proud of himself for providing for her. It was…strange.

Everything was strange.

Since that kiss on the cheek, the dynamic between them had grown even more tense. Every stolen glance, brushed fingers, sweet smile, all felt like she was getting away with something forbidden. If anyone knew the illicit way she thought of Matt, she knew she’d burst into flames. And it wasn’t like she could be sure about how he felt about her either. Sure, he looked – but she was a beautiful Indian woman, and many men looked. It just felt different when she felt Matt’s eyes on her body, that was all.

She knew it was futile though. She was his nanny, nothing else. And she didn’t dare mess anything up with her employment now that she was only a couple of months away from turning in her thesis and finishing her Masters in Computer Science. She knew that she had to seriously start applying for jobs for starting in June, knew she didn’t want her years of hard work to go to waste – but it was so hard to decide exactly what she wanted when her head was spinning.

In a dream world, she’d have the career she’d always fantasised about, with Matt and Sarah by her side. But this was reality – girls like her didn’t get the career and the guy. She had to be realistic with herself, otherwise she was going to drown. She knew she had to stop indulging her daydreams and wake up – it wasn’t worth the inevitable heartache, as much as those dreams were nice to fall asleep to.

Still, when Spring Break arrived and Matt refused to let her nanny for him, rather than holing herself up in the bedroom of her tiny apartment, she holed herself up in Matt’s dining room, only emerging when Matt dragged her out to get some sleep or Sarah begged her to eat dinner with them. It was a weird but welcome change, to have people care about her wellbeing like that (her current roommate had her own weird work hours), so when she finally came out of her week of thesis writing and showered, she felt more human than she usually did after a data spree like that. It was refreshing to say the least.

“I can’t believe you spent your final ever Spring Break sitting at my dining room table,” Matt teased, handing her a plate of sliced apples.

Dhara stuck her tongue out at Matt as she happily took the plate, making him laugh.

“I needed to get my thesis finished as soon as possible so I can work on editing it and proving the data works. And I managed to get it nearly finished – now it’s just concluding it and all the weeks of editing to get done. Otherwise, all the hard work of the past three years will come to nothing, and I won’t be able to get a good job like I deserve,”

“Right, yes, of course. A job using computer science,” Matt nodded.

The way he said it though, and the way he looked like a kicked puppy, made her heart ache. “Matt, you knew I would only be able to work for you for a year. We talked about this, right from the start.”

“I know,” he said quickly, shaking his head with a smile, “It’s just going to be strange not having you around. You feel like part of the family already, and you know that Sarah loves you.”

Fuck.

“Matt, you’re killing me,” she murmured.

“Sorry,” he quickly said.

“No you’re not,” she said dryly.

“I am a little bit.”

Dhara huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. “I love systems analysis and the increase in importance of connectivity to keep up with modern systems within growing infrastructure, and I would love to work in something like that because it’s where my passion is. I just…I hope I can find something that takes a chance on a nobody like me.”

“You are the furthest thing from a nobody, Dhara. You’re incredible and talented and a beautiful person inside and out, and you deserve the best. Whatever you need, whatever I can help with, I will, okay? References, making calls, whatever. You name it and I’m there.”

Her lips parted in surprise at his supportive words, eyes stinging with tears, but she found herself smiling. He was such a sweetheart.

“That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Dhara said, voice thick with emotion as she stepped forward to hug him.

She felt herself tremble slightly at the warmth of Matt’s hands on her back, even more so at the way he buried his face in her long thick curls, and tried to savour the feeling of his arms around her while she still could. How had their time together come to an end so quickly? How was this fair?

“Yeah, well, you deserve everything and more,” Matt said gruffly as he stepped back.

If only she could read his mind right now, to see what thoughts were running behind the complicated expression on his face, then she would do it in an instant.

“Thank you, Matt,” she murmured.

“You’re welcome. Make sure you start applying soon, okay?”

Network Operations Engineer – Madison Square Garden Entertainment – full time.

Submission – completed.

March.

April.

May.

His fleeting time left with Dhara was slipping through his fingers. The harder he tried to hold on, the faster the days flew by, until she submitted her thesis and the end was in sight. He couldn’t blame her for being excited – fuck knows he wouldn’t be sane after all the years of education she’d gone through – but he couldn’t stop the anxiety that built in his chest when he thought of how, soon, she wouldn’t be laughing and smiling and typing away at her computer in his house.

The Islanders had barely lost the first round of the playoffs, kicking and scraping to the last minute, and now with the whole summer stretched out in front of him, the thought of spending it without her was excruciating. But Matt knew he had no claim on Dhara, had no right to feel this way, no matter how she looked at him or smiled sweetly at him or that one time she’d kissed his cheek. She was everything he hadn’t known he’d wanted and needed, and now she was soon to be gone from his life forever.

He, Matt Martin, was completely gone for Dhara Nicholls, and he didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do about it.

“Dhara, come on, you’re not watching!”

Matt rolled his eyes fondly at Sarah’s petulant whining. “Sarah Dawn Martin, that’s not how we speak to our friends.”

He could see Dhara biting her lip to hide a smile as Sarah huffed dramatically.

“Dhara, please will you watch this with me? You said you would!”

“Of course, why don’t I just get us some more water each and we can settle in, hm?”

“Deal!”

Matt watched Dhara walk over to where he was putting together lunch in the kitchen, unable to stop himself smiling at her the moment she smiled at him.

“Hey.”

She giggled, shaking her head at herself as she pulled a couple of bottles of water out the fridge.

“How’s it going in there with the Drill Sergeant?” he mused.

“Oh it’s tough, but I think I’ll make it out alive,” she grinned.

Why was everything so easy between them? Nothing had ever been this easy before.

“Look, I, uh…I was hoping to ask you something?”

Dhara raised an eyebrow with a bemused smile but nodded, leaning against the counter next to him. “Go for it.”

“So you know it’s my birthday on Saturday?” he started.

Dhara just nodded, smiling.

“Okay cool, so I know you have things to finalise this week, with administration at your university, but Casey and the guys and girls have organised a night out and I was hoping you’d come? So yeah, come out with us, please,” he said, cursing himself for rambling.

“Oh, thank you – I just…what about Sarah?” she asked.

So sweet.

“She’s having a sleepover with a friend from Kindergarten, I already sorted that,” Matt said simply, smiling.

“Well in that case, I’d love to. If you’re sure?” Dhara said, uncertainly.

“Of course I’m sure. I want you out celebrating with me,” he said firmly.

While he couldn’t tell if she was blushing or not, the flash of surprise and something else in her eyes satisfied something inside of him that felt distinctly feral. He really was losing his control around her, wasn’t he?

“Then I’ll be there,” she said sweetly, “You only turn 35 once after all.”

Matt just grinned.

Saturday night rolled around quicker than he’d expected. The WAGs had taken Dhara out with them to get ready – the full works apparently, hair, make-up, and manicures, all of which he paid for Dhara because it was last minute – and when the ladies finally arrived to the restaurant he’d booked out for dinner? Well, it felt like he’d been punched in the face. It wasn’t that her dark curls were glossy and teased to volumed perfection. It wasn’t that her make-up was flawless, full glam like she never did herself. No, it was the emerald green mid-thigh strappy silk dress she’d clearly borrowed from one of the other ladies. The dress was so dainty and unlike anything he’d ever seen her wear, close enough to a negligee that it sent his mind reeling. He knew she had a great figure already, and that her legs were long and toned, but seeing them like this? It was mindblowing. And, obviously, it had taken everything in his power not to drool or let his jaw drop.

Naturally he missed Casey and Anders smirking at their wives and receiving triumphant grins in response from Grace and Kristy. Dhara’s sweet greeting and warm hug made everyone else in the room disappear.

Still, after dinner and going to a couple of bars, they ended up in a night club nearing midnight, Anders having booked a couple of tables upstairs in the VIP area. The whole group had a couple of shots together, toasting Matt’s 35th birthday, before the WAGs all dragged Dhara off to dance with them. From their table he could just about see her in the middle of the dancefloor, looking like she was having the time of her life, body swaying and moving in a way that had his full attention. Captivating.

He watched her on and off for the next half hour, switching between talking to the guys, sipping on his whisky and coke. But it wasn’t until Casey thumped down next down next to him and clapped him on the shoulder with a huff that he realised anyone had noticed.

“Come on man, just go down to the dancefloor and put us all out of our misery,” Casey groaned.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Matt frowned.

“You’re pining after Dhara and it’s driving us crazy,” he retorted.

“We’ve talked about this. She’s my nanny,” Matt said sharply.

“Yeah okay, like that even matters. I’ve seen the way you look at her and Kristy’s seen the way she looks at you, and it’s not like she’s going to be your nanny for much longer, right?” Casey smirked.

“Oh fuck you.”

“Fuck her.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Matt all but growled.

Casey just grinned, clearly getting the answer he wanted, goading Matt just like he intended. Damn it, he really did know him too well.

“Love you too bud. Stop being a coward,” Casey just snickered, patting Matt on the shoulder, a clear indication to just get out of there.

And if the desire to dance with Dhara hadn’t won out, he knew he’d be scowling at his friend. Instead, he found himself drifting down the stairs from the VIP area to where he lasted spotted Dhara in the crowd, and soon enough he found her. She looked like a goddess: swaying from side to side, multi-coloured lights brushing across her brown skin like a Picasso painting, and he felt himself mesmerised. She turned her head slightly at the prompting of Grace, wide smile stretching across her lips when she spotted him.

“Mind if I join you?” Matt said, raising his voice.

“Of course not birthday boy!” Dhara said happily.

Matt stepped closer to her, barely registering the rest of the ladies grinning at each other and slipping away through the crowd to leave them alone. His attention was completely captured – Dhara’s hips swaying so close to him were a massive distraction – and it wasn’t until a familiar song started playing that he finally looked up at her face.

“I love this song!” she said happily.

Dhara turned her back to him, confusing him slightly, until she looked back over her shoulder expectantly. He knew they’d both had a fair amount of alcohol to drink at this point, but her eyes were clear enough – dance with me. He could barely control himself as he stepped up behind her fully, hands on her hips, pulling her gently back against him, the soft moan that sounded from her lips making him feel wild. Fuck, he could feel himself stirring where his crotch was pressed just above her ass, even more so as she continued to sway her hips.

“Come, lay me down, 'Cause you know this, 'Cause you know this sound

In the middle of the night, In the middle of the night, Just call my name, I'm yours to tame...”

“Matt,” Dhara murmured, looking up at him.

He followed his base instincts for once, staying silent as he used the grip he had on her hips to spin her around to face him, taking pleasure in the look of surprise on her face and the flash of lust in her eyes, swaying their bodies together again.

“…I'm wide awake, I crave your taste all night long, 'Til morning comes, I'm getting what is mine, You gon' get yours, oh no, ooh, In the middle of the night.”

“Matt please.”

It was all he could do to guide her quickly through the crowd to the edge of the dancefloor, to an empty spot against the wall, leaving them mostly in the shadow, the bright flashes of light illuminating them just about enough to see each other’s faces.

“Tell me to stop,” Matt murmured into her ear, hands threading into her thick curls.

“Kiss me,” she replied, lifting her head in challenge.

He didn’t hesitate to press his lips to hers, kissing her just as she’d demanded, his heart immediately soaring. Dhara moaned into his mouth, moaned again when he pushed her firmly up against the wall, kissing him back just as eagerly as her hands clutched at his shirt. It was like she melted against his body as he slid his tongue past her lips, fire zipping through his blood, his head swirling. Matt kissed Dhara over and over again, one hand leaving her hair to clutch at her hip, the silk of her dress driving him mad and doing nothing to mask the heat of her skin, and while the music washed over them, he wanted nothing more than to get her away from this crowded dancefloor and take her home.

Fuck, it was intoxicating how well she fit into his arms, how her body was moulded to his, how their tongues danced together as intimately as their bodies had done. In all the times he’d thought about kissing her, about holding her, nothing could compare to the real thing. Nothing could compare to this.

But he needed to know that it wasn’t just him, that she wasn’t just kissing him because she was drunk. He didn’t think he would survive that. The confused noise she made when he broke the kiss just about broke his heart though.

“Dhara, baby, I gotta know…”

He groaned, kissing down her neck, feeling like he was shaking apart at her soft moans.

“What, Matt?” she gasped as he nipped at her skin.

“You’re not…you’re not too drunk right now, right? You want this?”

“Matt, I’ve been drinking water throughout the night between drinks. I want this. I want you. I just didn’t know if you wanted me,” she said, shrugging with a sheepish smile.

She didn’t know if he wanted her?

He rested his forehead against hers, pressing her fully into the wall again so she could feel where he was half hard in his jeans. Dhara giggled, pulling him down into another kiss with her grip on his shirt, and Matt was all too happy to oblige her, knowing he’d never get enough of her now that he’d tasted her.

“It’s not just sex, baby, I swear. I want all of you,” Matt murmured, breaking their kiss again to suck on the thin skin behind her ear.

“You promise?” she asked softly into his ear, almost shyly.

“I promise,” he nodded, as serious as he could manage in this moment.

“Then take me home.”

“Yeah?” he grinned.

“Yeah, take me home Matt,” she grinned back.

Dhara woke with a soft groan, eyes feeling gritty and mouth as dry as an old sock. She blearily lifted her head, grabbing the glass of water on the side table and chugging it, body not recognising the weight of an arm over her waist until her head was a bit clearer.

An arm over her waist.

Over her bare waist.

Matt’s arm.

She let out a shaky breath as all the memories of the night before flooded into her head. Dancing intimately with Matt in the nightclub where anyone could see them. Making out on the side of the dancefloor. The two of them leaving the club without telling anyone, barely keeping their hands off each other in the uber back to his. Then a rush of lips and hands and teeth and bare skin, and waves of pleasure over and over again, crying out his name without a care in the world.

It was everything she’d ever dreamed over, and now, waking up in his bed with his bare body pressed to hers, it was her nightmare all the same.

She’d never acted like this before in her life. Never slept with a man she wasn’t dating. Absolutely never slept with her boss. What kind of trashy behaviour was that? How could he ever think she was worth his time if this is the way she acted the first time he showed interest? Fuck.

But she remembered his words too. How he checked that she wasn’t too drunk, that she wanted this. How he swore it wasn’t just sex, that he wanted her. How insistent he was on promising that it wasn’t just talk to get her into bed. And in between each of the many orgasms he brought her to, he checked in with her each time, making sure she was okay, just because that’s who he was.

He was Matt Martin, gentleman under a rough handsome exterior, and he wanted her.

None of that changed her insecurities though, how all of this was so out of character for her. Not to mention, she knew damn well that everyone knew what they did last night, why they left the club early, and wasn’t that mortifying? No, she needed some air, she needed to think. And to maybe put on some clothes she’d left in the spare room because there was no way she could wear Kristy’s tiny silk dress home in broad daylight.

With a shaky breath, Dhara gently picked up Matt’s arm, moving it off of her body, before slowly sitting upright. If she could just stand up without waking him it would be…

“Good morning. Going somewhere?”

Matt’s husky voice made her freeze, a wave of guilt washing over her, before she turned to face him, sheets clutched to her bare chest.

“I…I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing,” she murmured, more honest than she cared to be.

And if that wasn’t a metaphor for her life since she met him, what was?

He just frowned, sitting upright, and she couldn’t stop her gaze from raking over his chest, his biceps, his shoulders. Damn. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? Where should I start?” Dhara said, feeling a little hysterical.

“I thought we were on the same page last night,” Matt said hesitantly, “I thought we both wanted this.”

“We did,” she said quickly, “I did. But…you know this doesn’t make any sense right?”

“Why not? You like me, I like you. You want me, I want you. It’s simple,” he frowned.

If only.

“It’s not simple at all, Matt. Not for me. It’s one thing for you to have the hots for your young pretty nanny, but to actually hook up with her? And to say you want something more? People are going to think I’m a gold digger! That I trapped you! That I manipulated my way into your life!”

“Dhara, all of that is bullshit. I don’t care what people think. Anyone who dares to call you a gold digger is an asshole who doesn’t know us. Everyone who knows us knows it isn’t like that at all. You’ve already got a job lined up waiting for you with Madison Square Garden Entertainment Group and you only just handed in your thesis – like, you’re going to be making your own money so it’s not like you only like me for that, right?”

“Well, no, but…”

“And you didn’t even know who I was when you first interviewed with me, so it’s not like you planned this, right?”

“Of course I didn’t, but…”

“If you don’t want anything more than this one night with me then obviously I would accept that. It would suck and the last few weeks of you working for me would be really awkward, but damn Dhara, I want a future with you,” Matt finished, taking one of her hands in his, the other still clutching at the bed sheet.

He really wants a future with her?

“You do?” she asked softly, almost as if she didn’t believe it.

“Yeah, I do,” he nodded, smiling warmly, “I mean, I’m not sure what you see in me – I’m a 35 year old hockey player who’s nearing the end of his career, already divorced once with a kid who doesn’t have an off switch or a volume control, and I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life…but I just know that I want you in my life, however I can have you.”

“You’re the kindest, sweetest, most handsome man I’ve ever met, with a daughter who loves you so much, and you see me for more than the Indian girl stuck behind a computer screen. I…I never expected this, any of this Matt, but I want to try?” she said, biting her bottom lip.

The way his face lit up with sweet genuine smile made her heart soar.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’m going to do my best to make you so happy too, Dhara, I swear,” he grinned.

Dhara huffed out a laugh, laughing properly as he tugged the sheet out of her hand and guided her to lie down again in the messy bed, sliding his thick arm over her waist to tug their bare bodies together, lying face to face in the most intimate yet soft way she’d ever lain with another man.

And in that moment, it didn’t matter that her career was just about to kick off while his was in its hockey-twilight. And it didn’t matter than he was 10 years older than her, a whole wealth of life experience that she barely had. And it didn’t matter what people would whisper about them, or what judgemental looks she was get, or that her mother had never met him, or even that none of this would ever have happened in her wildest dreams.

All that mattered was that he wanted her, in his bed, in his family, in his life.

“Can I kiss you, baby?”

“Yes.”

Tagging a few people: @jostyriggslover96 @misshoneyimhome @senditcolton @fallinallincurls @2manytabsopen

#my writing #matt martin fic #the summer fic exchange 2k24 #matt martin x oc #matt martin fanfic #matt martin imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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just-an-enby-lemon · 2 months ago

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TMA AU I'll Likely Never Writer N.06 (I think):

Martin stabs Jon and whatever happened to them happened (putter??)) but for an instant all versions of them from all universes got their essence, their memories. Not forever but for however long a moment lasts.

For recently turned Head Archivist, first in person statement (so soon after Naomi), Jonathan Sims this meant that after having a whole day deleted from his memory he wakes up in the hospital after a "suicide attempt" gone wrong left him blind.

Jon is suddently jobless, has a disability to learn to live with and worst was forced by the NHS to atend questionable therapy. Oh and his friends really think he should move home and reconnect with his ex-girlfriend (who he forgot to remove from his next-of-kin [better her than his dead grandma]). And there are so many problems to obcess with and still Jon cannot stop thinking that this was not a suicide attempt at all and something weird happened during the day he forgot. Something bad.

Meanwhile Tim Stoker feels like a horrible friend for missing all the obvious signs Jon was in pain and might be over compensating a bit in the present while refusing to adress the recently weird wormy developments nor the distorted man he just met at Sasha's favorite coffe shop.

Archivist Sasha James is realizing her dream job is not so dreamy and in more personal matters has just recently joined Tim in a two person fight to sue the hell out of Elias and the Instute in Jon's name for unlawfull firing likely related to Jon's recent disability.

Martin Blackwood deals with his newfound proximity with his no longer boss after a series of convoluted totally not crafted by Tim (and himself in a way) events made him be the one to drive Jon to his therapy (and other doctor related apointments) and they bonded way more than Martin could ever considered (it happens that when not being his boss and feeling pressured into a persona Jon does not treat Martin like crap and is a real dork).

Georgie Barker deals with her new friendship with her ex and all the feelings towards their break up she never fully processed. She also pines over a cute ghost hunting trying to start a solo carrear and solves some problems.

And our second main characther Melanie King moves the plot. That is my back to the plot cue:

Basically after for their annoyance they show notable chemistry and work together surprisingly well when doing a duo apperance in Georgie's show (soon after Melanie was kicked out of Ghost Hunting UK for her obcession with her Stranger encounter) Jon and Melanie start their own paranormal channel. They are actually fairly popular, Melanie already had fans and Jon's many quotable and gifbable moments makes himself acquire some as well. Working together turns them into friends and soon flatmates and so one drunken night Jon tells Melanie about Mr. Spirder and his suspicions on his supposedly suicide attempt saying that he would have made it quicker, less painfull and more efficient (look Jon is maybe healthier than cannon Jon but not for much), that is not that he refuses to aknowledge he was on a state where he considered and might attempt suicide is just the method seems too focused on the eyes, too specific. And unlike everyone else Melanie does not react with a deep concern over the topic or shockee about Jon freely discussing suicidal ideation. Besides coping by putting the blame in the wrong places, the reason Melanie hates him in cannon (and why I can see them being friends if met in friendlier terms) is that they are too similar in all the messier places. So instead Melanie agrees that IT IS WEIRD. And so Breaking (Melanie) and Entering (Jon) decide to do what they know best and invade Jon old place to look for clues.

And there's where Melanie finds a tape recorder. She wants to tell Jon. But she doesn't she listens to it instead. And what she finds is a Jon she can blame and hate, a version of herself she hates but understands way to well, a story about the end of the world and the worst plot twist in history: the faint ghost of the Archivist was not the only thing spreading across worlds. Their world used to be a simpler one, a happier one for people like her. In their world there were no fears, no institute, Elias Bouchard was Elias Bouchard, her dad was alive if dealing with the normal condicions of old age, Georgie was an art student trying for a masters degree, Jon was a junior researcher at a normal place and herself was a ghost hunter in a ghostless world.

And she knows why the other her voted otherwise. She would done the same. But now the fears are there from the start, she is the only one that suddently remembers the world where they didn't and she doesn't know if the way their existance changed her means she was always fated to be this or if she is an impostor in her own skin. And now she has to protect everyone and she does not think she should tell Jon (her Jon, her friend, not the abomination from the tapes, and she will never admit they are one and the same).

Jon who gone back to hunting for info like a good eye chosen sometimes sees snipets of vision he doesn't understand and is in a danger he can't feel.

And in the background Elias tries to discover what the fuck happened. Did the web planned Jon's "suicide"? Why he feels weird? Why is the end closer? Why does he feels sometimes terrifingly as if he is already dead? Why does he sometimes can hear a different Elias Bouchard and see a different life? (Before the change Jonah was dead and Elias was alive and that deeply impacts them).

#tma #tma au #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #melanie king #tim stoker #sasha james #georgie barker #martin blackwood #elias bouchard

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ttllynotmyshyt · 3 days ago

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The Three-Meeting theory: MEETING TWO

word count: 1,7k

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: Trying to clear her head after a breakup by going to a friend's party leads to an unexpected reunion.

1 / 3

Y/n fixed her hair in the mirror. Her throat tightened and her face warmed the second her eyes met her reflection. She couldn’t believe it. Just two weeks ago, she’d been lying in her boyfriend’s arms, rewatching School of Rock and sipping hot cocoa. And now she was trying not to fall apart thinking about how all of that was just a memory.

How could she put on the same lipstick he used to love kissing off the second she finished her makeup? How could she fix her breasts in the dress he always complimented? And how dare she fix the hair he used to play with while holding her when she felt sad?

Deep down, she knew this was coming. They hadn’t been getting along half as well as they used to. She didn’t even feel bad anymore when he cancelled dates. She barely noticed when the compliments stopped. She knew the spark had faded, but with everything else on her mind, she never had the space to seriously think about it. So when the breakup finally happened, it hit like a dam breaking.

She knew it wasn’t the end of the world. But it was a door closing — a door she’d walked through every day for the past year. Even if the love was gone, it was still hard to figure out how to live in the absence of a chapter that long.

Her friend Olivia convinced her to come to a house party. They didn’t have many mutual friends, which meant Y/n wouldn’t have to explain anything or be babied the whole night. It was supposed to be a night of alcohol, conversation, and new faces — enough distraction to help her forget. And it had been, right up until the song she first kissed him to started playing. Olivia skipped it the second she saw Y/n’s face fall, but the damage was done.

After unkindly rummaging through the bathroom cabinets without asking, she found some deodorant and hairspray. She freshened up, took a few deep breaths, washed her hands with cold water, and fanned her face until she felt steady enough to leave the bathroom.

She headed straight for a drink — gripping the margarita made by some guy she couldn’t remember the name of like it was going to vanish. It was gone in a blink, earning a small chuckle from the self-appointed bartender who topped her off again without a trace of judgment.

She smoothed out her dress with her hands, half-listening to the kitchen conversation. Something about the NBA playoffs. She tried to follow along when familiar names came up, but eventually settled for nodding and offering the occasional quiet “right.”

A few more drinks in, she actually started to enjoy herself. She ended up in the office room with Olivia and a few others. A girl named Mandy, sweet and warm, was talking about her job as a vet and some questions Olivia had about her old pets.

Something about Mandy stuck with Y/n. She was so naturally kind that just being near her felt comforting. She spoke like she already knew what you needed to hear.

When the music from the living room got too loud, the girls decided to move to another room — but not before making a quick kitchen stop for snacks.

“There you are!” a guy said as soon as they entered. Tall, skinny, short hair — vaguely familiar. “I thought I’d lost you by now,” he said to Mandy, playfully.

“Well, you didn’t have to worry. I was just in the office — we were talking,” she replied.

“Oh, okay. Was it fun?”

“Yeah. I met this girl, Y/n. She’s really nice,” she said, gesturing.

He looked at Y/n, visibly searching his memory. “Wait, have we met before?”

“I was just wondering the same thing. What was it… Matt? Mike? Mason?” she said, crunching on pretzels.

“Martin. Close. See? We must’ve met.”

“Or maybe you just have strong ‘M’ vibes,” she joked before she could stop herself. Corny, she thought. Cringe, even — if she wasn’t buzzed.

“Or maybe you’re like, a really good witch. What’s up?”

“Nah, you’re probably right. We must’ve met before. You know Liv?”

“Olivia? Yeah, she’s Mandy’s friend. We’ve met a couple of times. What about you?”

“We’re close. That what brought you here?”

“Yeah, came for a good time, to chill. You?”

“Same. Been a tough week, needed to unwind.”

Martin squinted. “God, sorry — I can’t stop thinking about it. Where do I know you from? Are you like… on social media or something?”

“Not really, no. Sorry.”

“Work? Where do you work?”

“Oh! Sonic Boom — the record store,” she said. And then it clicked. “Wait — you’re the YouTuber guy, right? With your friend? Hamzah?”

“Dude, yes! That’s it! And yeah, Hamzah. How’d you remember?”

“I don’t know,” she smiled. “Not a common name, is it? You guys were cool. Made my day that day. Is the video up yet?”

“What are the odds!” Mandy said.

“Right? That’s what I said!” Martin grinned. “Yeah, it’s up. Did pretty well — like 900k views now. You should check it out.”

“Holy shit, that’s so many!” Y/n laughed.

“Right? And Hamzah’s here too! He’s gonna freak when he sees you.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, her interest piqued.

“Pretty sure he’s playing Secret Hitler in the living room.”

“bet I’ll see him around,” she nodded.

Later, after the music shifted from upbeat to mellow, Y/n found herself out on the porch with a handful of people smoking and chatting in blankets.

Then a familiar face stepped out. This time, she knew exactly who it was — and he looked even better than she remembered.

“Hamzah,” she called, her voice softer than expected.

He turned. Their eyes met, and he smiled. “Record store girl.”

She grinned. “Guilty.”

“Martin said you were here. He was like, ‘Bro, remember that girl from Sonic Boom?’”

She laughed. “He really said that?”

“Swear on my life. Then he tried to describe you like I didn’t remember.”

“I guess I’m just unforgettable.”

He raised a brow. “You say that like it’s a joke.”

She let out a soft laugh and looked away.

“Been blending into the background lately, I guess.”

His expression shifted—just a little, but enough. “Yeah. I’ve been there.”

She moved slightly aside, away from the crowd. He followed without needing to be asked.

“You come out here for air or just avoiding Secret Hitler?” she asked.

“Both. I was losing and sulking. Thought I’d switch environments before I threw something.”

She laughed. “Good call. Martin hyped that game like it was a religion.”

“Martin hypes everything like it’s a religion.”

They paused. It wasn’t awkward — just aware.

“You here with him?” she asked.

“Kind of. He dragged me out, said I needed to leave the house before I turned into furniture.”

She smiled. “You didn’t want to come?”

“I didn’t not want to. Just had a long-ass week, that’s all.”

“Same,” she said. “Olivia practically bribed me with tequila and girl talk.”

“Hey, solid pitch.” he blinked slowly and raised his eyebrows with a smile.

“Right?” She shrugged. “I needed something. It’s been… a lot lately.”

“Yeah?” he asked gently.

She hesitated. Then nodded. “Breakup.”

“Damn. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Not fresh-fresh, but like… still echoing, you know?”

“Yeah,” he said. And she could tell he meant it. “The space they leave takes longer to clean up than the leaving itself.”

She looked at him. That was exactly it.

“That’s a good way to put it,” she said. “I might steal that.”

“Go ahead. I probably stole it from someone else.”

She tucked her hands into her jacket sleeves, gripping the cuffs.

“You ever get that thing where you feel fine all day, and then someone says something kind or looks at you a certain way, and suddenly you're back in it?”

“Absolutely. It’s like your body remembers before your brain does.”

“Exactly,” she said. “I had a drink, heard a stupid song, saw a couple kissing in the hallway. Boom. Instant collapse.”

“You held it together, though.”

“Barely. I did raid the bathroom for deodorant like a gremlin.”

“That’s resourceful.”

“Thanks. I’ll add it to my résumé.”

He chuckled, looking at her a little longer.

“You know,” he said, “you’re really easy to talk to.”

She raised a brow. “Is that your version of flirting?”

“Depends. Is it working?”

“Maybe a little,” she said, smirking. “But I’m not sure if I should let it.”

His smile softened. “Fair. I don’t want to push. I just… like talking to you.”

“I like talking to you too,” she admitted. “That’s kind of the problem.”

“So… we let it be what it is. Just a good conversation on a cold porch.”

“Yeah,” she said. “That sounds right.”

Silence again. But a good one.

After a moment, he looked toward the door. “Want to head back in?”

She looked at her empty cup, then up at the sky.

“I think I’ll stay out here a little longer.”

“Cool. I’ll save you some chips. And maybe the last word in Secret Hitler.”

“Do me proud.”

He gave her a knowing nod before slipping back inside.

She watched him go, her chest just a little lighter than before.

She was rinsing her cup in the kitchen when she heard him come in.

“I was wondering if you ghosted,” Hamzah said lightly.

She looked over her shoulder. He was leaning in the doorway, jacket on, keys in hand.

“I was just… regrouping,” she said. “Had a moment.”

“Yeah. You seemed a little off at the end there.”

She half-laughed. “I think the tequila caught up with the breakup.”

His smile faded slightly, but didn’t disappear. “That’s fair.”

They stood in silence. The fridge hummed softly.

“I liked talking to you tonight,” he said. “Didn’t expect to. You were kind of a surprise.”

She smiled. “Yeah. Same. You’re not what I expected either.”

“Oh?”

“I thought you’d be louder. Like Martin,” she said with a teasing look.

Hamzah chuckled. “Nah. I let him do the shouting. I do the editing.”

Pause.

“I hope it helped, by the way,” he added. “Even just a little.”

“It did,” she said.

He looked at her for a second, then handed her his phone.

“If you ever want to talk again. Or, like… argue about music or something dumb.”

She took it, typed in her number.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

“Night, Y/n,” he said as he backed out.

“Night, Hamzah.”

Her heart still hurt, but it didn’t feel untouchable anymore. Just… sore, in a way that might get better.

She looked down at her dress and straightened it one last time, then sighed.

a/n: part two, i hope you enjoy it. please give feedback if you have any.

also in the last part there were some "natalie" slips i guess? sorry about that, it's easier for me to write a name and change it to y/n usually, i suppose i didn't notice some instances of its use in part one. Won't happen again.

#hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah #slushy noobz #slushy virus #slushie #hamzah fic #hamzah imagines #hamzah fluff #hamzah x y/n #three meeting theory

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schumachersnightmare · 1 year ago

Note

Could you do one for Fernando Alonso with wife reader where she catch him doing one of the Tiktok's video (the one where he's spinning in front of the microwave🤭) and she tease him about it. And he accidently posted it with her reaction of him doing it and the Internet went wild! I don't know if it make sense. Add something you'd like though. Thanks!!

Ahh I absolutely love this request!! I love that tiktok so much. I'm such a softy for Fernando I had to write this one first. Hope you like it!

OG tiktok

BTS tiktok

Word count: 650+

Warnings: None just pure fluff

The season has yet to begun but everyone was at the factory in full swing. Fernando was called in to start his usual preseason requirements, seat fit, simulator, briefings, and of course media duties.

“Just a little more carino, then we can leave.” Fernando said as he pressed a kiss to your cheek before being pulled away by Jimmy, the social media manager. Lance always seemed to disappear whenever the camera came out, leaving Fernando to fill in the gaps.

Your stomach growled. Lunch had been a few hours ago and Fernando was nowhere in sight. You walked over to the break room hoping to grab a light snack to hold you over until Fernando was done and the two of you could get dinner.

You pushed the door open and froze.

Your lips tightened together as you tried to contain the laughter building inside you. Little squeaks escaped as you tried your best to just walk around over to the fridge. Your cheeks turning bright red as you watched the scene in front of you unfold.

Your husband had no idea you had even entered the break room. Fernando was focused on making the tiktok. His phone sat in the microwave as he crouched down and slowly spun in a circle.

As soon as he stood up, he was surprised by the eruption of laughter. Fernando turned around towards the fridge where his wife was bent over in hysterics, one hand holding onto the fridge for support.

“It's funny, no?” Fernando asked, thinking you were laughing at his tiktok and not the behind the scenes view you had. “Jimmy and I thought of it together! It's good, no?” He asked as he walked over and slid his arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest. His hand danced up and down your side as your face pressed into his shoulder as you tried to calm yourself down, tears spilling onto his shirt.

“It's funny, Nando, it really is.” you wheezed as you wiped the tears from your eyes. Your lips pressed against the scruffy facial hair on his cheek before you stood up properly. “It's great, I think you captured the essences of pizza rolls perfectly.” You teased him and he rolled his eyes at you before his fingers attacked you, tickling your sides in retaliation.

The rest of the day continued as usual. Fernando and you shared dinner together before cuddling up in bed for the night. Your head rested on his shoulder as you scrolled through social media. That's when the Aston Martin account popped up on your tiktok. The video was pretty funny you had to admit. Fernando peaked over to take a look to see what you were giggling at. A smile grew across his face as he watched his beautiful wife giggling in his arms watching his tiktok. Giggles continued to spill from your lips as you went through the comments.

User1: old man has really lost it this time

User2: No! Don't microwave us!

User3: is that y/n in the background?

User4: yea she's in the behind the scenes

User5: Let! Him! Cook!

Behind the scenes? You didn't remember any behind the scenes video being shot. You clicked on the profile and scrolled until it popped up. Sure enough, there you were looking like a tomato trying to not laugh at your man-child husband before completely breaking down when he finished filming.

“Nando!” You yelped as you lightly slapped his chest and shoved your phone in his face. He chuckled as he looked at it and the comments. All the comments on the behind the scenes video were about you and your slow descent into hysterics. Everyone online was obsessing over you and your relationship with your husband. There were dozens of not hundreds of comments talking about how cute you two were together.

“I might have to give up my tiktoker of the year award.” He teased as he brushed the hair out of your bright red face.

~-~

Let me know if there's anything I could improve on formatting wise, normally I double space when I write in my editor but to me it looks like a lot between paragraphs on here, however if you prefer it let me know. Thanks!

#fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #f1 x reader #fernando alonso x you #formula one x reader #mel writes #fluff

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karikarasuno · 3 months ago

Text

sonder ch. x

Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader x Levi Ackerman

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Reader is always going through it so there's that, Also Kissing (finally), Oh and Angry Erwin (his sexiest form)

Word Count: 8.8k

song(s) for the chapter: go easy, kid by monica martin & hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine

chapter ix | chapter x | chapter xi

Under any other circumstance, you would be fine. Cool as a cucumber. You have done the whole dress up charade before. Since Onyankopon was in the music industry, a night in a fancy dress with too high heels and pretty jewelry became a normal occurrence. But this time. This night, as you stood in the mirror staring at your reflection, you couldn’t help but feel nervous and a touch shaky. You didn’t look bad by any means. In fact, you would venture out and say you looked quite beautiful. This particular shade of red complimented your complexion elegantly and the style of the gown fit you like a glove. It clung to all the right places while also smoothing out the rest. It was a dress that seemed to be made with you in mind.

But suddenly and without warning, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was too much. The strappy black heels, the gold dangling earrings, and the complicated updo you spent far too much time on. You were uncomfortable. And, ironically enough, it seemed to stem from a strong sense of insecurity.

You couldn’t really remember the last time you felt so outwardly insecure. It could be that this was your first formal work event at this job. Or the fact that this was the first time you were truly dressing up since the break up. Or even–and probably the most relevant– was the other fact that you seemed to have two dates tonight. Who were bound to be knocking at your door any second and you still hadn’t applied your lipstick.

But two dates wasn’t the problem. It was who they were. What they meant to you. It was clear to you that this friendship had effectively surpassed the shallow waters of platonic companionship. It was obvious that you definitely, positively, irrevocably fell in love with them.

Falling in love, the act, was always accompanied with self-doubt. It was the free falling through endless skies that seemed to shift between day and night, light and dark, without any idea of when you would finally touch the ground that was the most terrifying. Because the ground was hard, firm. And without anyone to catch you, it almost always felt like death when you inevitably hit it.

You were so lost in the trance of your reflection and the paralyzing thoughts of your insecurities that you didn’t hear them approach the door like you typically did. So when they unlocked the front door and entered your eerily silent home, you nearly jumped out of your skin when Erwin stepped through the open door of your bedroom.

“Holy shit!” You screamed, your hand flying to your chest and the other flew out to brace you against your dresser to keep you from actually falling to the floor. Which would’ve been embarrassing to say the least.

“Did you not hear us come in?” Erwin said, doubled over in laughter from what you were sure was an absolutely outrageous reaction.

“No,” you huffed out, a blush already forming at your cheeks. “I was too busy looking at myself.”

“I don’t blame you,” he took a step in your direction, hand reaching out to grab yours and lifting your arm above your head to gesture for you to spin for him. “You look incredible.”

“You think so?” You said, trying to play your insecurity off as a joke, but you were too vulnerable to pass it off as anything else. But before he could answer, Levi walked in. He was in the middle of adjusting the button on his shirt sleeve when he looked over at you. His eyes traveled from your shoes, lingered on the fabric that sat hanging around your neck, and then finally his gaze touched your face. He smiled warmly. Which for some reason or another you hadn’t expected.

The clear affection made you look away. And now of all things, you were feeling shy. It was very much a regression in your eyes and you wanted to scream at how absurd you were acting. Suddenly you were 17 all over again and sending up silent prayers that the boy you liked actually liked you back. The confidence you earned with age was waning rather rapidly in their presence.

“Wow,” he said, nodding as if he was also agreeing with himself. “Very pretty,” he added with that same small, appreciative smile that made butterflies flutter recklessly in your stomach.

“And I haven’t even put my lipstick on yet,” you deflected with a coy smile before hurrying into your bathroom to breathe for a moment. Your hand was trembling slightly as you added the red lipstick, but when you scrutinized yourself in the mirror again it was strange. You looked so different. Almost unrecognizable. It has officially been over a year since you moved to this city. And while you felt different internally, those differences seemed to quickly manifest externally. There was this undeniable glow about you. Even a cliche sparkle to your eyes that wasn’t there before.

You were a woman in love. And that alone made your palms sweat and your pulse thump carelessly in your neck. You were in the midst of a love that very well could be unrequited. But it didn’t stop that love from blossoming nonetheless.

“How long does it take to put lipstick on?” Erwin asked, reclining against the doorframe as you looked at each other through the mirror. His smile was lazy when your eyes met in the reflection and his posture was comfortable. As if merely being in your presence was enough to award him solace.

“You can’t rush perfection, Erwin,” you flirted back, attempting to regain some of that errant confidence you swore you had at some point before the last ten minutes. You then made an effort to fix the outline of red on your bottom lip with your pinky to emphasize your point.

“I sure as hell can when you rush me all the time,” he responded with a playful scoff to punctuate his point.

“Oh and you’re so perfect?” You laughed, sliding the cap back onto your lipstick before turning to face him instead of continuing this conversation through the mirror. But you hadn’t realized how close the door was to the sink, so when you turned you were met with an Erwin that was a good three inches shorter than he typically was since he was leaning against the door at such a drastic angle. While you were a solid three and a half inches taller in the heels you were wearing. This was the closest your faces have ever been to each other while standing up. Your eyes involuntarily drifted to his lips for a split second, but when you tore them away to look into his eyes instead, you found that he was unabashedly staring at yours.

“That color looks really good on you,” he said in a breathy whisper and you fought the urge to roll your lips together because you would smear the color and have to redo them. You also fought the urge to kiss him because no one has ever looked at your lips as reverently as Erwin was right then and there. It was pure seduction and you were surprised your knees didn’t buckle under the weight of his stare.

“It really completes the look, doesn’t it?”

“Mhmm.” His nod of confirmation was almost imperceptible. The bathroom suddenly felt much, much smaller than it ever had before. There wasn’t enough space between the two of you. Not enough to breathe and certainly not enough to think. Your lips parted but all you were capable of releasing was a tiny puff of air. For a moment you even stopped breathing from how violently charged the energy was between the two of you.

Without any conscious volition, your hand rose. Your fingers found the crisp texture of his white button up and you could feel the warm firmness of his chest beneath your palm. You could feel his eyes track your movements predatorily, your pulse ran wildly in your throat and chest and wrist. And you took a step towards him, invading his space and practically bathing in his cologne. Your eyes fluttered shut briefly just to indulge in the scene because it didn’t feel real and it was easier to convince yourself of a delusion your hopelessly romantic heart would create rather than burst your bubble with the reality that this all could be one sided. And that for them, this was friendship.

“We should get going,” you said, eyes blinking back open to peer up at him.

“What?” His eyes skittered across the features of your face. Confusion, however naive or innocent it may have been, was evident on his face when his blue eyes finally found yours.

“We’ll be late if we don’t leave soon,” you explained gently, regret beginning to crawl its way up your arm and into your chest. “I’m sure Levi is starting to pace in the living room,” you added with a small laugh while gingerly pushing Erwin away from you. The distance made the fog start to clear up and your heart, while still palpitating beneath your breast, began to ease. He nodded again and when you looked up at him, eyes searching his, you weren’t too sure at what you were seeing in them. And you didn’t have the time nor energy to decipher it for fear of hurting your own feelings with an answer you wouldn’t like.

You didn’t look back at him as you walked out of the bedroom and you kept your head down when you saw Levi standing at the window in your living room talking on the phone. When he heard your heels tapping on the floor, he said a hasty goodbye to whoever he was speaking to and his gaze burned against your body. Oddly, you felt like exposed wires and if both of them kept up whatever searing looks they shared with each other and subsequently you, your body would suddenly burst into flames.

It was easy enough to deduce that there was a very palpable and tangible attraction between the three of you. That was especially evident in the car ride to the venue where the tension was the thickest it had ever been. The air, while perfumed with a blend of your fragrances, smelled distinctly of lust. As if Aphrodite herself was misting the air with whatever godly essence she had at her disposal.

You sat tensely in the backseat as you attempted not to fidget with your jewelry and failed. There were electric sparks twitching through your fingertips and your knee bounced slightly as you kept your gaze fixed on the scenery blurring past your window. It was only a fifteen minute drive. But eternity wanted to make herself relevant that evening, so she wedged herself in between the seconds of time and stretched them infinitely.

No words were spoken the entire way besides Erwin muttering under his breath about some song that began to play before he turned the radio off completely. Levi was typically quiet so this wasn’t out of the norm for him. But you, your senses were dialed all the way up. Colors were brighter, smells were stronger, sounds were louder.

Maybe you were overstimulated. Maybe you couldn’t handle what was actually brewing in your previously nonexistent love life. Maybe you weren’t ready.

The love was there. The love filled your heart so powerfully you were sure you could drown in its shores. But what if the love wasn’t enough and you were still too broken to accept anything more than silent yearning and painful moments of faux intimacy?

What if you were no longer worthy of the love that was right in front of you? It was easier to convince yourself that you weren’t enough now then get heartbroken later.

Erwin pulled up in front of the venue. It was being hosted in one of the fancy hotels downtown that Moblit was stressfully able to secure after the last venue canceled at the last minute due to double booking the space. Before you could get out of the car, Levi had already opened the door for you. You heard Erwin call out that he would meet you two up there while he found parking, but it was all so distant and muddled in your brain because you were too in your head about everything.

“You alright?” Levi said, leaning in close so the words were said directly into your ear. He was shorter than you when you wore your heels, so when you glanced over at him your eyes had to look down. You bit the inside of your cheek as you nodded, your skin goosebumping despite the warmth of the evening.

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat as you slipped your hand through the crook of his elbow, “just nervous, I think.”

“About?” He asked, guiding you through the glass doors of the hotel and straight into the chilly lobby. It was grander than you expected, the ceiling light years above you and adorned with twinkling chandeliers and elegant arches. It gave the impression of old money and status. Probably because it was one of the oldest buildings in the city, but to say you were stuck in a state of admiration was an understatement. There weren’t buildings like this back home. The architecture, in all of its artful integrity, made you oddly nostalgic for something you never had experienced before. And the ambience alone only added to the air of romanticism that draped over your evening. It was getting more difficult to deny that this night meant more to the three of you than you would care to admit.

Levi tugged gently at your arm, reminding you that you had to continue to walk, but also that he asked you a question. When you turned to him he was already looking at you with clear amusement and the slightest of smiles pulling at the corners of his lips. You smiled back sheepishly, that annoying shyness returning to your body without your consent.

“Sorry,” you replied, allowing him to pull you to an elevator that led to the rooftop where the fundraiser was being hosted. “I just don’t want to screw this up.”

You were purposefully vague in your answer. And you had a strong sense that Levi knew that, which was why he didn’t press you further on the issue. That was what you appreciated most about him. He was someone who allowed you to sit in silence beside him without the pressure of feeling like you had to explain yourself. Levi knew that when you were ready you would talk to him. You just weren’t sure when or if you ever would be ready.

Luckily, some being unknown to you seemed to be watching over you because as soon as you stepped foot onto that beautifully decorated rooftop, sleek with modern detailing that stood as a drastic juxtaposition to the rest of the hotel, your hand was clasped between an excited Hange’s as they word vomited the last three hours of their life to you.

“Well, thank you for the rundown, Hange,” you laughed, stepping away from Levi and finding that the air wasn’t as dizzying when you weren’t wrapped in his cologne. “And you look great by the way.”

“Me?” They practically squeaked out, “look at you! You look so stunning, I can’t believe I picked this out.”

“You’ve always had a good, if not wandering eye, my love,” Moblit responded, leaning over to kiss their cheek as he moved over to greet you with a steady hug and warm smile. You were beginning to feel more overwhelmed than you anticipated you would be. The air, even though you were outdoors, was stifling. It was a warm night, but not enough to have you choking inaudibly at every inhale. Your mind and body were torn between immense gratitude that after what could be such a short amount of time you found a group of people that you could no longer imagine life without and the growing dread that somehow, someway you would fuck this up. Life shouldn’t just go on, but it does. Love shouldn’t have just found you again, but it did. And you knew better than anyone that time and the future and all of its vast uncertainties waited for no one.

So, as you watched Levi and Erwin mingle through the crowd. As you stood and conversed with Pixis about how much of a great addition you were to the staff. As your eyes scanned over the people around you, halting at Historia and her girlfriend, Ymir, Marco and Jean, Moblit and Hange. And finally, Levi and Erwin.

The loneliness that you hadn’t felt in so long crept its way through your body. It scraped against your bones and clotted your bloodstream. Your heart thumped too quickly, but also stopped all together. You were going to ruin this. It hit you like a brick of certainty straight over the head and nearly enough to render you unconscious.

You smiled at Erwin through the panic when his eyes found you across the rooftop. There was a momentary look of concern that you knew was a result of your shaky disposition, but you waved him off trying your best to reassure him that you were fine. You held up your glass of barely sipped chardonnay and tipped it his way to silently cheers him. He responded in kind with his glass of whiskey. And that small gesture should have been enough to quell your nerves. To let you know that no matter how alone you felt, you never truly were. But the music continued to play and couples began to filter towards the small makeshift dance floor and when you saw Erwin slip his hand into Levi’s to drag him to an outside corner of the floor to dance with him, envy coiled around your limbs. Its python-like grip held you in a vice that you knew you didn’t have the capacity to escape from. All you knew was the bright red exit sign glaring at you and your instinct to flee. There was no fight in you. You had to run like you always did. If not, the snake of jealousy would surely squeeze you to death. And unfortunately you weren’t ready to die.

So, as they danced you downed the rest of your drink and headed for the exit. You were nearly to the door when someone caught your arm. The heavy hand startled you where their fingers held onto your forearm.

“Are you okay?” Moblit asked, his grip loosening when you turned around to look up at him. Concern. It was there, reflecting beautifully across his irises, and knowing. He always seemed to see right through you and yet you still chose to lie to him. You squared your shoulders, smiled faintly, and said, “of course! I was just heading to the bathroom to cool off for a bit. It’s a little warm up here.”

He ignored the goosebumps that blossomed across your skin and the way you took a teetering step away from his body. He ignored the look of panic he surely saw plastered across your face beneath the mask you wore. However cracked or faded it may have been. And he let you leave. He watched as you walked towards the elevator and practically punched a hole into the button with your forefinger. Your mind was swimming with insecurities and fright and heart wrenching anxiety. You didn’t spare him or anyone a backwards glance as you stepped through the opening doors and pulled your phone out of your purse to order yourself an Uber.

Your vision was blurring and you knew tears were traitorously gathering in your lash line, but you swallowed them down. It wasn’t the time to fall apart. Maybe once you got home, to the familiarity of your belongings, you could find comfort in the loneliness that was starting to settle within you anew. The driver was only two minutes away and if you were lucky that was enough time not to raise any suspicions because you couldn’t explain your actions let alone your feelings to anyone without admitting how you were stupid enough to fall in love with your best friends.

The sound of your heels on clean tile guided you through the lobby. It was the only sound to truly permeate the volume of your racing heart and screeching thoughts. There was a vibration coursing through you, one that thrummed harsher the longer you stood on the pavement and waited for the uber to arrive. When a black Nissan Sentra pulled up to the curb you didn’t think twice before opening the backseat door, which was dumb, but you didn’t have room to think about anything other than getting home as soon as possible.

“Ma’am, can you confirm your name please?” The driver said, angled slightly in his seat to look back at you. You cleared your throat before giving him your name, grateful that this was indeed your ride and you didn’t jump into the wrong car. Which would’ve been a much too late realization since you would have already gotten yourself voluntarily kidnapped.

“Thank you,” you called out over your shoulder as he stopped in front of your home a few minutes later. Your palms were beginning to sweat from the way you were wringing your fingers in your lap the entire drive over. It was as if your body had too much energy coursing through it while also feeling completely drained.

You were exhausted but knew you wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon. Your heels were the first to go when you entered your house, and next the bobby pins that held up your hair as you tossed them on the coffee table the further you walked inside. Your fingers immediately kneaded at your scalp in the hopes that it would relieve some of the pressure building inside your skull, but you knew it was hopeless when the stress only stacked higher in your chest. Guilt clawed its way through you again. Guilt for leaving Levi and Erwin wordlessly at an event you invited them to and guilt for even loving them as anything more than a friend.

You braced your hands on the edge of the island as you tried to regulate your breathing and clear your mind from all the muddled thoughts plaguing you. Nothing was coherent. It was all irrational and blinding and you knew that if you didn’t get it together soon you’d be losing everything you built over the last year. And that wasn’t an option. Because you loved your home, your job, your annoyingly perceptive coworker, and most of all your stupidly handsome and considerate neighbors.

You released a groan of frustration, the heels of your palms pressed into your closed eyes to keep the burning sensation from producing actual tears. Because there was nothing to cry over. Yet, anyways. You simply had to speak with them and maybe talking out loud about your feelings would resolve all the sickening turmoil swirling around your gut day in and day out.

Maybe you should pray. Maybe God or the universe or even whatever spirit guide was bestowed upon you in this life could offer you some insight on how to navigate this truly complicated situation you have somehow found yourself in but also managed to create. You reached an arm around to unzip your dress because the fabric was now clinging to you in a way that you didn’t like. In a way that was suffocating and invasive. But as you struggled to grip the zipper slider between your fingers the entire house seemed to shake with the force of whoever was knocking on your door. The banging stopped after three sharp knocks. Your heart and stomach seemed to swap places in your body as your heartbeat plummeted to your abdomen and acid rose to burn your chest. To say you were startled was an understatement. You were paralyzed with fear from the intrusion and as you slowly turned to face the door the banging resumed. This time it was accompanied by your name and a voice that sounded eerily like Erwin’s except this one was angry. Unfamiliar. The step you were prompted to take was halted midair when the realization struck that he was angry with you.

You didn’t think of that possibility when your spiral began. That your reaction to the overload of emotions brewing inside of you would hurt Erwin or Levi to the point of anger. Neither of them had ever been mad at you, so whatever was occurring or even about to occur was territory you had never ventured into. So, you hesitated.

“Open the door,” Erwin said through the door and you could vividly imagine the words spitting from between a clenched jaw and gritted teeth. It was rare that Erwin was ever angry and never so outwardly so. He preferred to contain his anger and redirect it elsewhere. Like work or running. But this was directed at you. Plain and simple.

Any anxiety that was coursing through you before was now swiftly replaced by distinct dread and child-like fear of being scolded. You didn’t want to open the door because you didn’t want to admit that you did anything wrong. But the guilt that followed you home said otherwise.

You opened the door. Erwin stood there with his hand braced on the doorframe and the other on his hip, his hair tousled and a mess, and the tie he wore was loosened and hung limply around his neck. You hated the way your body reacted to him. You hated how when his eyes, darkened with anger and glistening with hurt, met yours, your heart stuttered and a breathless ‘oh’ left your lips. You hated that even while seemingly livid with you, you couldn’t help but find him just as astonishingly beautiful as the day you met.

“Before I say what I really wanna say,” he started, inhaling deeply as he unclenched his jaw clearly restraining himself. “Are you okay?”

It wasn’t what you were expecting him to ask so all you could manage was a surprised blink, parted lips, and a stuttered exhale.

“Answer me,” he added with much less resolve and you had to take a physical step back to gather your thoughts.

“Y-yeah, I just,” you couldn’t come up with anything remotely convincing so you settled with, “I was feeling off.”

He scoffed incredulously as he stood at his full height forcing your head to follow. His gaze was practically predatory as he stepped over the threshold and into your home. Backing you into the wall that was at the entrance.

“You were feeling off,” he said slowly, ruminating over the words trying to decide where the truth was in that statement.

You nodded. He chuckled.

“Where’s Levi?” You asked in an attempt to divert some of the tension onto something else, someone else.

“Not sure,” he said, eyes still locked on you as you both stood rooted to the floor of your entryway. “Why’d you leave?”

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you scrambled for words.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve left,” he responded evenly, like it was the most sensible option. And it was, but an hour ago that option wasn’t viable.

“I-” you sighed trying to force words up your throat and out of your lips, “I didn’t wanna be a bother. You two were mingling and dancing and I didn’t wanna ruin that.”

“So you thought that leaving unannounced without saying goodbye without pulling me or Levi to let us know something was wrong wasn’t going to ruin that?” His voice rose towards the end of his question out of frustration you assumed, but you felt yourself growing defensive. Regardless of whether or not you were in the wrong, an anger that you knew was rooted in jealousy and falsely placed resentment was beginning to rival Erwin’s.

“No, Erwin, I didn’t think that-”

“Maybe that’s the problem! You didn’t think, you just left. Because if you really thought it through you would've come to me.” You walked away from him, needing to physically remove yourself from his overwhelming presence that you usually found such comfort in, but couldn’t bear at the moment.

“I couldn’t!” You shouted, unable to think straight anymore with every single emotion you’ve ever felt bubbling uncomfortably in your gut.

“Why?!” He was growing more agitated purely because he didn’t understand. Every time he tried to wrap his head around the decisions you made he couldn’t find a logical conclusion. “Do you not trust me?”

Your head reared back as if you had just been slapped. The hurt in his tone was evident, but you were mostly shocked by the mere idea that he would believe you didn’t trust him. After everything you all had been through together.

“Of course I trust you,” you said, voice broken and exhaustion seeping through every syllable.

“Then why do you keep running?” It was a valid question and one you’ve asked yourself more times than you could count. And even after all the contemplation, you still couldn’t come up with an answer that was satisfactory. Not to you and surely not to Erwin.

“Because,” you struggled to find the words. Erwin was looking at you so expectantly, so patiently yet you couldn’t arrange a coherent sentence in your mind that would constitute a normal response. Panic began to rise like bile in your throat. Your breathing hiccupped not once, but twice when you forced yourself to look at Erwin’s face.

The heart that you worked so hard on repairing was starting to crack. The honey that you tirelessly poured into every gash to piece it back together was starting to reveal itself as just a sticky mess. You were about to fall apart again but this time the only person to blame was yourself. Your insecurities and self doubt. Your fear and self-loathing. It was all you. Only you struck the match of sabotage and now there was a fire burning around you that you couldn’t put out.

“Because I-” Everything was stuck, your vocal chords were shrinking, your chest was tight and with blurred vision you swore that when you stared into Erwin’s eyes in desperation you found a love there that was so profound and deeply moving that your body swayed and your knees could no longer bear the weight of you.

His hands found your face before you sunk to the ground from weariness. His fingers were strong as they met at the back of your head and his thumbs were reassuring as they wiped what you could only assume were tears from your cheeks.

“I need you to stay with me,” he said reverently, “with Levi. We need you to get it together and stay.”

You swallow a sob. “I don’t think you understand what you’re asking of me.”

“I’m asking you to stay.” His grip tightened slightly against your cheeks and your breathing while still irregular became deeper, more natural. “We can stay like this. Like we have been for all this time or…”

His face drew nearer and for a second you thought it was something you were imagining. Something that you have imagined, countless times. A figment of your delusion that you swore would never be a reality. But then his nose touched the tip of yours. A gasp caught in your throat. And before you could begin to utter his name, his lips slotted between yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and everything that never made sense started to. Every question suddenly had an answer. The sticky sweet residue of a honey repaired heart was being wiped clean.

Your hands rose to grip the lapels of his suit jacket and for the first time in an abnormally long time, you leaned in. Trusted that if you fell, someone would catch you. Erwin’s lips became more insistent, his tongue gently slipped into your open mouth and you rose higher on your toes to be closer to him. You needed to be closer to him because he anchored you to this world. To this reality that you never thought would be within reach.

Then you thought of Levi and how he wasn’t here and how this moment felt wrong. Out of place. Your soles met the cold floor again and you took a staggering step away from the warmth and familiarity of Erwin’s embrace.

“We shouldn’t have done that.” Your fingers touched your kiss bitten lips with a twisted sort of awe. It was right. At least it felt that way. But you still shouldn’t have done it because he was your best friend and in a relationship with someone you loved so dearly. So, it must have been wrong.

“It’s okay.” Levi stood in the entrance of your home. The door was still open and the moonlight lit him up like a beacon. Your eyes, although they were still a bit watery, drank him in. He no longer wore his suit jacket and his shirt was unbuttoned enough for the open collar to expose his collarbones. He wore a faint blush on his cheeks but it was impossible to see the extent of it since you never bothered to turn on any lights when you arrived. You were guided solely by the alluring temptation of the moon’s gentle white light.

“Levi, I’m so s-sorry,” you stuttered out, eyes jumping between Erwin, who looked just as disheveled as you felt, and Levi.��

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“No, but I do. We got carried away and we shouldn’t have done that,” you pointedly made that last remark at Erwin, whose lips were still painted red from your lipstick. While you felt the gravity of regret on your shoulders none of it was reflected in Erwin and of all things that gave you pause. He seemed just as self assured and confident as the day you met him under the serenity of that early spring morning.

“We’ve already talked about this,” he said, trying to close that distance between you again but you only retreated further into your living room.

“Already talked about what?”

“Us. The idea of us, at least,” Erwin said, but confusion still lingered on your face.

“I think we can all agree that it has felt different between us for quite some time now,” Levi said delicately. As if he was trying to soothe a cornered animal. You knew exactly what he meant. It’s felt different for you for months, but you never said anything because you weren’t about to look like a homewrecker or destroy a friendship that has been invaluable to you since you moved to this city. So, the frustration, in all of its wayward forms, was rumbling within you like the commencement of a volcanic eruption.

“If the two of you knew you had feelings for me…” Your mind was tracing back over all the moments that you thought you were reading too much into. The touching, the nearly kissing, the flirting. It was all so obvious, but you ignored it all because it only made you feel like you were dipping your toes into the deep waters of insanity. “If you talked about it, why not tell me?”

“We didn’t really know how.” Levi said.

“And we didn’t wanna scare you off,” Erwin added. Breathing was becoming foreign to you and the ground beneath your feet swayed in an unfamiliar way. You were almost frustrated by this confession. Nearly angry at this proclamation because while you sat in your feelings, alone and petrified at the idea of loss. Of losing them. They had each other. Their feelings and flirting seemed so easy to you because it was so much easier for them.

“I can’t do this,” you gasped, hands smoothing over your dress in a frantic move to try to soothe yourself.

“But-”

“Right now,” you added, interrupting Erwin when the clear look of hurt flashed across his features. “I’m- this is a lot and I think I need some time.”

“Do you not feel the same?” Levi asked, his voice hardening in an attempt to shield how upset he was.

“Of course I feel the same! It’s all I’ve been feeling for months, but until now I thought I was alone in that. Can you even begin to imagine the guilt I’ve been feeling the moment I realized I was in love with you?!” The words erupted from your chest and out your lips before you could consider using a bit more tact. But tact was for the patient and you ran out of that a long time ago.

“You two have had each other in this and you always will, but until two seconds ago I thought that my feelings would ruin us. I thought my love for you would end this and I couldn’t bear the idea of losing either of you so I left,” you rambled out the words in a single breath. Your heart raced and your skin grew clammy.

They both stood silently as you inhaled a breath far shakier than you intended. You hated the feeling of hopelessness that was building in your chest. It was aggravating. The lack of control you had was morphing every emotion you felt into anger and you didn’t want to continue this conversation angry. It would just cause everything to blow up and that was the last possible thing you wanted.

Levi said your name in a whisper so soft it was only heard because of how eerily quiet your home was. Not even the hum of the air conditioning filled the still air. When your eyes met his, you saw the emotional conflict you were positive was a reflection of your own features. It was starting to seem like you were dedicated to living a life where all you did was inflict heartbreak.

“I think we should continue this conversation tomorrow,” you said, voice thick with emotion but above all else, complete exhaustion. And when Levi took a step towards you in protest, you took one away from him.

“Ok,” Erwin cut in, his hand heavy on Levi’s shoulder. You could tell neither of them wanted to actually leave, but you weren’t really giving them an option. Your brain was muddled and your feelings were an absolute clusterfuck that you needed to untangle before you could even begin to express them to Levi and Erwin.

The door shut and the distinct sound of the lock turning into place served as a reminder that you were alone again. You intended to be alone. You technically wanted and even asked for it. But the cavity it left behind was a gruesome, bleeding hole right through where your heart was supposed to be.

Funnily enough though, you didn’t cry. You couldn’t really bring yourself to produce tears anymore. So that night, instead of sleeping, you laid restlessly staring at the moving blades of your ceiling fan until the sun peeked through the tiny sliver where your curtains didn’t quite meet. You laid there until your weekend alarm rang signalling that it was now eight o’clock in the morning. The floor was cold when your bare feet met it, but it didn’t bother you much. You were beginning to fear that if you continued to tear yourself away from endings that could award you happiness even if short lived, you would just end up numbing yourself to everything.

In an attempt to protect yourself from sadness, you had chosen again and again to dull whatever traces of happiness that came your way. It was dumb. And absolutely no way to live life. Even if all you were truly searching for was contentment.

You drank your coffee black that morning in some weird effort to punish yourself. Again, stupid. Because you hated black coffee. So, it then sat untouched after two pathetic sips in your sink. It wasn’t difficult to come to a decision, but you wanted to make sure your words were chosen carefully and articulately. There was no room for error. Even when you knew that with Erwin and Levi mistakes were easily forgiven when it came to you. But you were sure their patience would only last so long. So you gave yourself the afternoon.

The pier always seemed to call to you in moments like these. The wind was sharp even in the hottest months with the way it whipped at your clothes. There was the distinct smell of algae that the breeze carried that in a very odd way felt comforting to you. The horizon was endless except when the sun was setting. At that point, the water ended in a fiery blaze of pinks and oranges. It was beautiful and a gentle reminder that despite life’s hardships the sun will always set and waves will always lap at the earth’s shore.

It was your most indulgent form of escapism. It was where you decided to grow past the woes of your broken heart and begin anew. This decision, however, was not nearly as difficult to make. There was only one true option in your mind for you and even though that rational and annoying part of your brain questioned the logistics of entering a relationship that already had roots and branches and leaves that had fallen and grew back again. You were sure flowers even bloomed and died for them a million times over. It wasn’t a question of if you should take this chance, but how willing you were to give yourself away entirely.

Insecurities that you carried around for far longer than you cared to admit still mingled and nestled their way into your life. But you were tired of allowing them to dictate who you were and what love you were deserving of. Because in front of you, beside you, and surrounding you was a love being offered in its purest form. And in some comically ironic way, if you denied yourself that it would be the most selfish thing you ever did.

You took one last grounding breath before peeling yourself away from the railing that separated you from the water. It was resolute and for the first time in quite awhile, there was no doubt clouding your mind and obscuring your thoughts. It was as clear as the skies overhead and your heart wasn’t sitting heavily in your chest like you had become accustomed to.

On the way home, you stopped by the bakery you knew had the lemon cake Levi was so fond of. Then from there, you stopped by the grocery store to grab some white wine to accompany it. It almost felt like you were trying to impress them. Which brought a small smile to your face because you kind of were. And even though you had sat in their home and them in yours dozens of times before eating and drinking wine, you knew that the outcome of this one would be drastically different.

You thought of Erwin’s kiss as you rode the train through downtown and how even in a fit of such volatile emotions, his lips were earnest and tender as they pressed against yours. It annoyed you a little that that was how your first kiss went after so many nights imagining a hundred different scenarios. The passion was always there in the moments you allowed yourself to daydream, but there was none of that angry insecurity you seemed to harbor so closely to your chest last night.

It was a disservice to everyone the way you reacted, but you were grateful that when you knocked on their door, cake and wine in hand, Erwin greeted you. His hair was slightly messy like he never washed out the product from the night before. He also looked comfortable in a graphic t-shirt you knew wasn’t his, but Miche’s after he spilled a drink on his own shirt one night at the bar. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes like it usually did. And that sight alone had guilt creeping up your throat like bile.

“Can I come in?” You asked, shy and unsure.

“Yeah,” he said, voice scratchy from lack of use as he side stepped to let you through the door.

Their home smelled like freshly brewed coffee. Their drip machine still gurgled in the corner to indicate that a pot was ready. The air was tense despite the comfort you found in their space. And you walked over to the island, like you had done so many times before, with measured steps so as to not disturb whatever illusion of peace the atmosphere carried.

You heard Erwin’s footsteps retreat behind you and you assumed he was walking down the hall to get Levi. Suddenly, nerves washed over you like nausea on a swaying boat in the middle of the Atlantic. Your mouth filled with saliva yet your throat was too dry to swallow and all the words you carefully practiced in your head were gone. Not a single one remained and were instead replaced with a sprawling landscape of nothing.

Before you had the chance to come up with anything, you heard them return. It was Levi’s voice that broke the silence, but instead of turning around to face them you opened the box that held the lemon cake. Only twisting around to look at them once it was securely out of its container.

“I brought cake,” you offered meekly, hands gesturing to the small pastry on their island. The tension was so incredibly thick you felt like you might as well have been at the bottom of the ocean. The weight of being crushed by water would have probably been easier than this. Not to be dramatic.

“I see that,” Levi said, face serious and eyes skeptical as he looked between your awkward fidgeting and the cake beside you. You realized rather belatedly that they were not going to save you from this mess you created. They waited, Levi impatiently and Erwin impatiently amused. You could tell because he seemed to be enjoying the view of you squirming even though his lips were set in a thin line, his eyes told a wildly different story. You decided to rip off the bandaid.

“Maybe I freaked out a little last night,” you said, pathetic and a bit dismissively.

“Maybe?” Levi.

“A little?” Erwin.

“Ok fine. I definitely freaked out last night,” you amended, hands wringing together in front of you as you looked through the sliver of space between them. Your eyes drew up to the ceiling as you took a deep breath, stress and anxiety holding hands within your body.

“After I realized that I wanted more from this relationship than just friendship, I became almost obsessed with the idea of losing you,” you admitted, eyes still averted. “And I understand how dramatic that might sound, but my life here would be nothing without either of you in it so I settled. I settled for friends with this really weird undercurrent of sexual tension.”

You heard a breathy chuckle and when you looked over, you were surprised to see that it was Levi. His head was bowed and he was shaking it softly from one side to the other. There was a smile on his face that he attempted to hide from you. The sight baffled you. And it wasn’t like Levi never laughed.

“What’s so funny?” There was obvious petulance in your tone, you couldn’t help it. Stomping your proverbial foot.

“You,” he answered, looking up at you between the curtains of his bangs. “You’re funny. You’re also ridiculous. And occasionally irrational. Emotional-”

“Ok,” you interrupted, not appreciating the sudden onslaught of insults.

“And smart. Too smart to be this in denial about our situation.”

“I’m not a mind reader, Levi,” you huffed, annoyed now.

“And pretty, which makes it hard to ever stay mad at you even when I want to be.”

You blushed. Hot and fierce. It shouldn’t have been this easy to disarm you. But it clearly was. And now he was stepping closer to you and you couldn’t move. Not that you wanted to. It also was no longer a problem. You didn’t have to force space between you whenever tensions became too thick. Too unbearable.

You looked at Erwin over Levi’s shoulder. He winked. Your face grew hotter. Levi could surely feel the rise in your temperature whenever his hand lifted to cup your cheek.

“Can we just go back to normal now? You were starting to give me a stress headache,” he said, face closer than it had ever been.

“I think we’re actually in a weirder place than we started,” you responded, a whispered laugh punctuating your sentence with nerves.

“No,” he shook his head, smiling as his thumb moved to caress the apple of your cheek. “We’re exactly where we should’ve been months ago.”

Your eyes drifted to his lips. The same lips you almost kissed once before. You swallowed thickly. God, you wanted to kiss him so bad, but he was taking forever.

When your eyes lifted to look at him, he was already looking at you. His eyes were dark and he waited, as if awaiting your permission. He had it. He’s had it for such a long time. But maybe he needed something more. Something more explicit. But words were so useless to you from the moment you stepped into their home.

Instead your hands rose to hold his face, fingers feeling the short cropped hair at the back of his head. You didn’t want to wait anymore. You were so sick of waiting. Your whole life was spent just waiting. Wasting time. Mourning moments lost to the ticking hands of a clock.

So without thought or a morsel of apprehension you kissed him. His lips were soft and his mouth tasted of coffee. The world went fuzzy as your vision blacked out and all you could feel was him.

His free hand found your waist and he tugged you closer. He was so warm. His fingers felt hot as they drifted down your cheek to your neck. Sparks were everywhere. Skirting across your exposed skin. Rioting behind your eyelids.

Oh, the kiss was better than anything your imagination could ever conjure. It felt so right. Just like Erwin’s. It was perfect. And you hated how long it took you to take this leap. Your body fit so wonderfully against his.

Goosebumps. They erupted when his fingers somehow slipped beneath the hem of your t-shirt. You gasped. Touch-starved wouldn’t even begin to explain how deprived you have been.

“Ehem,” Erwin cleared his throat. The lusty, dense fog that hung over your kiss dissipated. You jolted away from Levi out of shock.

You forgot you were being watched. Your skin was far too hot. Your clothes were now constricting. And when you looked at Erwin, your fingers pressing against your lips, his eyes were darker than you’ve ever seen them. The blue was nearly gone, overtaken but his black pupils. And his ears were a deep scarlet.

Erwin looked relaxed but you knew he wasn’t. His shoulders were too tight. His breathing was too ragged. Uneven. He was barely restraining himself.

“I was thinking,” you started, voice roughened from an arousal that was erupting erratically beneath your skin. Levi was looking at you reverently. It shocked you because the furrow between his brows and the way his eyes narrowed could be mistaken for anger. But you knew better.

He wanted you. Your stomach twisted and your lips parted and something wild was rattling between your three bodies. Untamed.

“I was thinking,” you started again, looking down at the counter, eyes trained on the cake you brought. Your voice was wobbly, hands sweating.

“We should go on a date,” you said quickly, everything rushed out in a breath.

Erwin’s laugh boomed in the quiet of their home. It was loud, shocked, and his muscles eased. He nearly doubled over. The laughing was contagious. It struck Levi first, who’s hand rose to massage the bridge of his nose and his shoulders shook.

Your lips pursed to one side in an attempt not to join them. Unsure of what was so comical. But understanding that it effectively burst the bubble of desire that was surely about to kill you.

“We’ve been on a million dates,” Erwin said between chuckles.

“No,” you pointed at him with a light laugh of your own. “We’ve hung out as friends. Friends who lacked real boundaries but still friends.”

“What are we gonna do? Go to dinner?” He asked, taunting your suggestion. But all in good fun.

“No, not dinner,” you rolled your eyes. “Something different. Romantic.”

“Like what?” Levi asked, skeptical, face still red from kissing you.

“I’ll plan it.” You grabbed your bag that you dropped onto one of the barstools when you first arrived and slung it over your shoulder. Excitement shot through you. Raw; unbridled excitement. You wanted to do something silly. Like jump up and down. Or twirl in dizzying circles. Your smile nearly split your face.

“Next Saturday be prepared to be romanced.”

#eruri fanfic #eruri x reader #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #i swear im gonna finish this fic if its the last thing i do #sonder

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