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pickingupmymercedes · 2 months

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Fly on my own - Lewis Hamilton

Sequence: Not just a pretty face / I need you to let me go / Fly on my own / Leap of faith (bonus)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: angst, but it's worth it

wordcount: +3K

song rec: Ordinary People - John Legend (sugested by @goldenroutledge )

a/n: This story broke me to write it, but the final chapter is finally here. Hope you guys like ❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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The ringing of his phone sliced through Lewis's concentration, startling him from his review of the upcoming season. His first at Ferrari.

He glanced at the caller ID, surprise following as he saw the name.

Y/n. Her name, a whisper on his lips, hanging heavy in the air.

He hesitated for a beat, the past months replaying in his mind like a cruel highlight reel.

The raw vulnerability in that garage, the unspoken promises left hanging, her sudden disappearance. Every unanswered message, every silent night, echoed with a question he hadn't dared to ask.

With a shaky breath, he pressed accept. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end was barely a whisper, shaky and choked with emotion. "Lewis... it's me. Are you in Monaco?" A beat of silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions, before a desperate plea escaped her lips. "Please tell me you are."

Lewis's heart hammered against his ribs. "Y/n?" His voice was a low rumble, laced with concern at her tone. "What's wrong?"

He could practically hear her take a shaky relieved breath on the other end. "Can we talk? Now?" she rushed her question, almost as if she was about to regret it.

The urgency in her voice startled him. He knew, with a chilling certainty, that whatever had brought her back wasn't good.

Without another word, he blurted "Yeah, tell me where you are."

There was a brief pause before she replied “I’m outside your house”

He slammed the phone down, his mind already racing. As he threw open the door, his breath caught in his throat.

There she stood, Y/n, a contrast to the composed, confident woman he used to know. Her normally vibrant eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her flawless makeup smudged with tears.

But it was her white dress and the sight of her hand that stopped him cold.

A blinding diamond sparkled on her ring finger, the size of a small rock, impossible to miss. Symbols of a future that wasn't theirs, a life he hadn't been a part of.

For a moment, they stood there, a storm brewing in the silence between them. Y/n's gaze followed his and flicked towards the ring, pain crossing her face at the realization, then back to Lewis, her voice barely a choked sob as she took the ring off and threw it in her purse.

"Lewis" she started, her voice cracking, "I need to tell you something"

Lewis blinked, the sight of her vulnerability ripping through the carefully constructed walls around his heart. He stepped forward, concern overriding every doubt or anger he had "Y/n, what's wrong?"

He reached out, hesitating before gently ushering her inside. The moment they reached his living room and she turned to him she really saw her.

Her composure shattered entirely, fresh set of tears streaming down her face, her body wracked with silent sobs.

Lewis pulled her down on the sofa and knelt before her, his hand hovering over hers, his gaze filled with a mixture of concern and a yearning he couldn't quite explain. "Hey," he murmured, his voice rough. "Whatever it is, you're safe now."

But the words felt hollow even to him. Safe from what?

Lewis stood there, feeling the weight of the months they had spent apart, the words unsaid, the emotions left hanging. He had a million questions, but seeing her so broken tore at him, leaving him feeling helpless.

He waited patiently until she finally looked up, her eyes a reflection of the storm inside her. "I need to start from the beginning," she croaked, her voice raw with emotion. "I need you to understand why I'm here, Lewis. Why I ran in the first place."

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, the white of Lewis's light apartment blurring with the memory of that night in the garage. The harsh overhead lights mirrored the coldness that had settled in her gut.

"I begged you to let me go" she whispered, the words tasting like ash in her mouth.

It hadn't been easy, admitting her fear. Her world, her future, had always been mapped out, a neatly paved road with clear expectations of the strong woman she had been raised to be.

But Lewis, with his intensity and the way he challenged everything she thought she knew, had been a wild detour, a thrilling adventure she wasn't sure she could handle.

The memory of his touch, the warmth of his embrace, his smell and his taste that night, make her head spin again. His voice echoed in her mind. "Y/n, are you sure? This isn't something you can take back."

But the fear, the sheer terror of letting go of who she was supposed to be, had been overwhelming. "I need time" she had choked out, her voice betraying her resolve.

He had cupped her face, his thumb brushing away a wayward tear. It was a simple gesture, yet it was enough for her to lose all control.

Their gazes locked, the unspoken tension crackling between them. She saw a depth of emotion in Lewis's eyes that she'd never witnessed before in anyone else, a vulnerability that mirrored her own.

And then, their lips met.

A spark that ignited a wildfire. The world around them seemed to fade away, the only reality the press of his lips against hers. An explosion of emotions, a heady cocktail of bravery until fear took over, and it all started to taste like what a forbidden passion does.

It had been a terrifying confirmation of what she'd been desperately trying to deny. The intensity, the way a single kiss had her ready to throw everything away, how it could send her thundering like a drum solo, was more than she was prepared for.

She pulled away abruptly, gasping for breath, the taste of him still lingering on her lips. Shame and fear warred within her. "I can't," she stammered, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Lewis's brow furrowed; confusion etched on his face. "Y/n?"

She couldn't look at him, the whole thing overwhelming. "I need to take you up on your offer," she choked out, referring to his suggestion of giving her time to think.

"But..." Lewis started, his voice almost a whisper, but she cut him off.

"No goodbyes, Lewis. Please," she pleaded; her voice thick with unshed tears she was trying to hold. "Just let me go."

And she fled. Slipped out of the garage into the cool night air, leaving Lewis behind with nothing but unanswered questions and the echo of a kiss.

"It was too much, Lewis," she whispered coming back to his living room and finding his gaze, the memory of that kiss still imprinted in both of their lips. "The way you made me feel... it scared me. Because I knew if I let myself dream about you I could never move on. I begged you to let me go because I couldn’t stand the thought of you waiting for me to figure out what this is.”

Her voice choked on a sob as the weight of her actions settled on her shoulders. For weeks, she'd convinced herself it had been the right decision, the safe one. But the emptiness that had followed her every step told a different story.

Lewis's hand tightened around hers, trying to ground her, to show her they were in the present now. "Y/n, I didn't want to scare you. I just wanted you to know you had a choice."

Her tears flowed freely now. "I took your offer, you know? To think things through. But every time I wanted to run back to you. And it scared the living days out of me. I ran because I was scared of how much you meant to me, of how much I felt for you."

She paused, her breath hitching as she fought for control. The raw vulnerability in her eyes cutting through him. "I got into self-defense mode. I’m sorry."

Lewis's heart ached with the memory of watching her walk away, the emptiness that followed her departure. He had tried to contact her, to understand, but her silence had been deafening.

"Y/n," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You could have told me. We could have faced it together."

She shook her head, a bitter smile twisting her lips. "Except I couldn't. I was too scared, I wouldn’t let anyone in, not even you, specially not you."

The tension between them hung heavy in the air, a palpable reminder of the distance her fear had created.

"Y/n, why now?" he asked, his voice confused and hurt. "Why are you telling me this now, after all this time?"

Her eyes met his, filled with a mixture of desperation and hope. "Because I can't live with the what-ifs anymore. I can't keep pretending I'm okay with the life I chose. I need you to know what happened for me to end up here. Why I chose him, Why I ran from you”

He retracted his hand, his heart clenching at the vulnerability in her voice. "Alright," he said, forcing a calmness he didn't quite feel.

Y/n took a shaky breath, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "I went back home, and a couple weeks later Francis showed up..." her voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Lewis nodded, his jaw clenched tight. He knew who she was talking about.

"He was everything I thought I needed," Y/n continued, her voice flat. "We understood each other, came from similar backgrounds. It was... comfortable."

She paused, her gaze searching his face. "There were no sparks, Lewis. No butterflies. There were no cliffs, no dizzying heights. Just solid ground."

Lewis felt a pang of jealousy twist his gut, but he pushed it down, focusing on her words. "But you chose him," he stated, his voice low.

Y/n winced at his tone but nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Everyone was happy. Especially his parents. Except for my dad." A flicker of defiance sparked in her eyes.

"He didn't say much," she continued, "but the night we told him about the engagement, there was this… look in his eyes. Like a part of him wished I'd chosen differently."

A memory flashed in her mind, a memory of her father's gruff words, spoken in the quiet solitude of his study only for her to hear.

"You can have your perfect life, Y/n," he'd said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "But part of me... a selfish part, I suppose... would rather see you fall headfirst. Fall for something so passionate, so all-consuming that it scares the hell out of you. That's how I raised you, wasn’t it not, my darling?"

Y/n's eyes focused back on Lewis as she felt his hand on her knee, her voice breaking as she continued. "I was trying to do what was expected, to follow a path that seemed more predictable. We got engaged, and it almost a formality at that point, really. But The planning, the party, the guests. Every detail felt like I was building my own gilded cage."

Lewis watched her, his anger giving way to a painful understanding. "When did you realize it wasn't what you wanted?"

She looked down at her hands, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Right after putting on this dress this morning…for the engagement party.”

Lewis's eyes widened. "You ran away from your engagement party?"

Y/n's reflection in the mirror became a distorted image of a stranger. She ripped off the diamond necklace, its clatter against the marble vanity echoing the turmoil within. Tears streamed down her face, blurring the perfect picture of the perfect porcelain doll.

This wasn't her happily ever after. This polished, perfect persona wasn't who she was meant to be. It was a mask, hiding the yearning for something real, something raw, something that terrified her.

This was someone else's dream she was sleepwalking through.

With trembling legs, she reached her father's study, just on the other side of her room.

His voice, gruff yet familiar, filled the space as he took her in. "Y/n?"

"Dad," she choked out, her voice strangled "I can't… I can't do it."

A beat of silence stretched between them, then a sigh. "Sweetheart…"

Y/n poured everything out – the suffocating engagement, Francis's bland kindness, the yearning for something more, even if it meant falling. There were pauses, a choked sob on her end, but her father listened patiently.

When she finished, another sigh escaped him. "Remember what I told you? You can’t learn to fly until you take the leap, Y/n." he said finally, his voice surprisingly gentle.

"What do I do now, dad?" The tears evident in how her words came out in small puffs

"You fly, sweetheart. As far, and for as long as you need” his fingers trying to dry away the tears still falling.

"But what if Lewis’s not there to catch me?" The fear raw in her voice.

"Then you learn to fly on your own" her father said, his voice surprisingly firm.

The next hour was a whirlwind of activity. Her father pulled strings, booked a private jet, and cleared customs within an hour. As she stood on the airport, the roar of the engines a physical manifestation of her heartbeat, a pang of guilt stabbed at her.

She was leaving behind a future that was comfortable, secure, expected. Leaving her family, her friends, her entire life. Yet, the prospect of facing Lewis, of confessing her love and potentially being rejected, paled in comparison to the suffocating emptiness of the life she was running from.

She nodded, tears flowing freely. "I couldn't go through with it. I couldn't marry him when all I could think about was you." She said, her voice finally clear as if that was the only part of it all she was certain of.

"I flew here because I needed to see you," she continued. "To tell you everything, to take the leap I was too scared to take before. I needed you to understand why I did what I did, and to see if you could forgive me."

Lewis's breath caught in his throat. "So, this is your leap."

Her voice dropped to a bare whisper. "Am I crazy for doing this? Do I have to learn to fly on my own, Lewis?"

He reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek, wiping away the tears. "Y/n, I... I don't know what to say."

She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing briefly. "Just tell me how you feel. Tell me if there's still a chance for us."

The question hung in the air, a plea for him to catch her, to be the safety net she desperately needed.

Lewis stared at her, his eyes reflecting a storm of emotions – surprise, relief, a yearning so raw it scared him. He saw the vulnerability in her tear-streaked face, the fear battling with the fierce determination.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached out his other hand to cup her face, his touch gentle yet firm. His gaze held hers, searching her eyes for any sign of doubt, any hesitation.

"Y/n," he murmured, his voice husky and eyes glossy. "Are you sure? Because once I start..."

She didn't let him finish. She closed the distance between them, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was liberating. This wasn't the tentative touch of that night in the garage, fueled by fear and confusion. This was raw, a confession spoken in the language just the two of them could understand.

Lewis pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her like a lifeline. He held her tightly, as if afraid to let go, afraid that if he did, she might disappear again.

The kiss deepened, a tangle of emotions pouring forth – fear, relief, a desperate hope for a future they could build together.

As they finally broke apart, gasping for breath, Y/n leaned her forehead against his. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic thumping echoing her turmoil within.

A wry smile tugged at Lewis's lips as he gazed at her, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear clinging to her cheek. "So," he began, his voice a low rumble, "about taking things slow..."

Y/n let out a shaky chuckle, a single tear escaping and tracing a glistening path down her cheek "After all that, is 'slow' still an option?" she said, her voice barely a whisper.

The amusement in Lewis's eyes deepened. He knew she was right. This wasn't something they could afford to pace themselves for. This was a collision, their own little big bang that had finally found its release.

He leaned down again, his lips hovering a breath away from hers. "Then," he murmured, his voice husky with desire, "let's see where this freefall takes us."

The Tuscan sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the rolling vineyards surrounding Y/n’s family villa that overlooked the Mediterranean Sea.

Lewis sat on a weathered stone bench in the back garden, a glass of chilled prosecco sweating lightly in his hand. Laughter drifted in from the open kitchen window, where workers laughed around, the familiar scent of garlic and rosemary teasing his nose.

Across from him, Y/n's father leaned back in his chair, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. "Another win, Lewis" he said, his voice tinged with a playful amusement Lewis had grown used to. "You're making quite a name for yourself at Ferrari, my boy."

Lewis chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "We try, sir. It's a team effort, most of all."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Of course, of course. But a good driver can only make a good car go so far. It’s something to have someone like you on the family, a multiple times champion dressed in red."

Lewis caught the hint, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/n's father, once a formidable figure of quiet disapproval, had become a surprising source of support, a man who saw not just the driver, but also the man who loved his daughter fiercely.

"What exactly do you mean, sir?" Lewis feigned innocence.

"Well," the elder drawled, leaning forward conspiratorially, "a little birdie told me you've been spending a lot of time at a famous Milan jeweler lately, someone known for custom rings."

Lewis's smile widened. Y/n’s father’s network of informants was legendary, but somehow, when it came to Y/n, it didn't seem so intrusive anymore." I haven't quite found the perfect design just yet, but soon." he admitted, a playful defiance in his voice.

A slow grin spread across his face. He knew Lewis was nervous, still a little hesitant around a man who could buy and sell him ten times over. But he also saw the way Lewis loved his Y/n with a fierceness that mirrored his own.

"You know," the elder began, his voice turning serious, "I never thought I'd see the day I'd approve of a man who spends most of his time speeding around corners at breakneck speeds."

Lewis chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "I’d never thought you would either."

"You and Y/n. You two were quite the storm when you first started seeing each other. A whirlwind of clashing worlds and stubborn personalities." He agreed, taking a thoughtful sip of his drink.

Lewis couldn't help but grin at the memory. It had been a wild ride, there were fights, misunderstandings, and moments when he'd questioned his own ability to let her be just the woman he loved and make her happy.

"But you weathered the storm," her father continued, his voice filled with a quiet pride. "You learned to compromise, to see the world through each other's eyes. That's more than most couples can say."

Lewis looked at him, a wave of gratitude washing over him. "Thank you, sir. We both learned a lot."

The elder chuckled. "I thought I had showed her everything she needed to know. But you…you gave the security for her to fly and know she has someone to fall back to. I could never do that. She’s always been fearless, and something else entirely, but she’s never been so carefree."

"Are you sure you're ready for a lifetime with her? She can be quite a handful, you know." he continued, his gaze sharpening playfully.

Lewis met his gaze, his eyes radiating a quiet confidence. "She's the only handful I want, sir. I can't see my life in any other way."

Just then, the roar of an engine echoed through the air, growing louder as it approached. Lewis and her father exchanged a surprised glance. The roar cut off abruptly, replaced by the unmistakable rumble of a vintage engine. Lewis's lips curved into a knowing smile.

Around the corner of the villa sped a wine colored Mercedes-Benz 190SL, its chrome catching the last rays of the setting sun. The top was down, sunglasses perched on her head, and a wide grin plastered across Y/n's face as she expertly maneuvered the classic car into a controlled stop in front of them.

Her father burst into laughter. "Well, well, well," he boomed, his amusement evident. "Looks like someone brought a little competition for the driveway."

Y/n hopped out of the car, her laughter tinkling as she threw her arms around Lewis. "Surprise!" she exclaimed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Just picked her" she gestured towards the car, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Wine red, huh? Quite the entrance, love."

Y/n smirked. "Just making sure you know who has the real classic taste around here."

The elder shook his head, equally amusement and exasperated. "You two and your competitive spirit. It never quite goes away, does it?"

Lewis and Y/n exchanged a playful glance. Theirs was a love built on respect, passion, and a healthy dose of friendly competition. It had been a long road to get there, but they knew that at the end of the day they were ready to catch the other.

Her father lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper leaning towards Lewis. "Don't let her fool you though. That smile hides a fierce negotiator. Be prepared to fight your ground on the restoration costs."

Lewis chuckled, a warm feeling spreading through him. He looked at Y/n, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and mischief.

As Y/n led Lewis towards the car, his hand brushed on her ring finger in a silent promise, one her father certainly caught on to, one he knew, from that moment two years prior, he would make sure to fulfil, every day.

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bon2bonn · 11 months

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Weathering your Storm

° The winds are howling

With summer break around the corner , it's just one weekend . What could go wrong ?, Well........ , Seb , Lewis and Daniel are about to find out.

*The start of the 22!23! Grid!AU !

*requests and questions are open so don't be shy ! ✨

2022!F1 grid X female!driver!reader

Sebastian vettel , Daniel Ricciardo, Lewis Hamilton X female!driver!reader.

Words count : around 1.4k

Warnings : grammar, cursing,sad girl hours, mercedes slander(not really), McLaren, I'm missing up the timeline but it's fun , not proof read nor edited .

leaving the media pen brought y/n relief as she's finally able to stretch her legs and get some fresh air away from the bustling reporters asking the same questions over and over again and buzzing teams finishing interviews and packaging garages after the race .

She avoided her team's garage like a plague , having to witness as the engineers pushed her car back in was more than too much for her to handle , so she opted for walking around trying to clear her mind before it goes on to a spiral.

Spotting Sebastian's green team shirt alongside Lewis and chatting among themselves down the pit wall she made a beeline for them . "Hello gentlemen . seb, Lewie " she greats them cheerfully as she gave each one a hug as they congratulate her before settling back beside Seb as he nudged her shoulder teasing " p3 , not so bad huh? " causing her to smile bashfully at him , Lewis pumped his fist with her's " great driving out there " , "thank you " she said with a beaming smile " yeah those last 3 lap were from hell , Sainz almost got my ass " both looked amused at her ranting post race as she always dragged them to listen , not like they were complaining as they adored how she went on giving them her full review with them giving her input here and there .

after a while of catching up they noticed how uncharacteristically quite she got while looking around searching for something or rather someone but before they could ask she perked up as Danny barged over lifting her in a tight hug shaking her around while exclaiming loudly "demon spawn!" And she returned the hug letting out a loud "Ricky Martin!" The other just stood there used to their antics same as everyone around them as they love to tease (bully) eachother around the paddock .

She turned to Danny giving him a wide grin" you're right on time , I was about to send out searching party " he nudged her shoulder " awww , I didn't know you'd miss my charming personality and handsome face that much " she scoffed at him " as if " he stepped back hand on his heart dramatically whining " you've wounded my delicate heart !" That got him a kick in the shin from her before she grinned back at him " stop with you theatrics , I have a great idea , we should start our own F1 support group !" mildly amused he threw her a wide grin " I'm all in baby , but what for?" So she looked at the other two drivers maintaining her wide grin as she lowered her voice to avoid any preying ears "well , mainly for you , Mick and Seb , but I'll be needing it too . my lovely team pulled a McLaren because guess who's mercedes dropping during the summer break ? , to give you a hint it's not Lewis" .

The three of them stood still staring at her as if she'd grown a second head , Danny was the first to snap out laughing "nice one mate ! That Almost got me" after a moment of silence Sebastian signals to him and he immediately reached to cover her ears as he cursed loudly "that's fucking bullshit , why the fuck would they ?" As she just stood there waiting for him to finish , Lewis just stared at her bewildered " what do you mean they are dropping you ? They can't do that , you're competing for the championship in that tin can excuse of a car incase they've forgotten about the standings ! Hell ! We both got a contract till 24 _ 25 they can't just drop it".

she just shrugged " well , they sure can and already did so ....." Danny's eyes couldn't get wider "what?!" So she gave them a nonchalant hand wave "starting from tonight I'm officially an unemployed F1 driver , they bought my contract and sent me out the door" Lewis interrupted " but Toto...." Only for her to shake her head " he sat me down along with the team management , PR and legal team which explains why they were lurking around lately , and both my lawyer and Manager out of nowhere and went on about the team and the drivers , how the last two years were great for the team bonding building a solid foundation and all of the usual pe-race briefing no big deal right ? , He went on talking about my contract which was odd because I knew wouldn't be up till 24 at least with great possiblity of extension , and how I have a promising future in the sport but not with them and I honestly just zoned out after that ,up until they gave me an offer out of of guilt or pity I guess to drive for Williams alongside Albon " that got Danny's attention "what about Russell?" So she whispered to him to subtly hold both Lewis and seb back as they both were close to marching over mercedes demanding answers after her declaring " they finalized singing him today for the next three seasons so starting from SPA he'll be driving full time for mercedes , that's net even the worst part , apparently they were discussing the position since the beginning of the previous season but they wanted me out with the least PR damages so now is the best chance to do so after most teams got their seats confirmed for next season so here I am " .

"Wait so you're telling me that everyone knew except us ? " she shrugged "pretty much, yeah " , "bono?" , " He knew" , " sussie?" , "Nodding "yup" , "James?" , "Uhuh , he was all in for the change" , "fucking hell!", "Exactly" she shrugged " they even decided they won't even announce any of it till Spa " . Daniel whistled in astonishment " wait until Nando hear about this " causing them to grimace only thinking what he'd possibly do " oh he already know ! Found him this morning cornering Toto in the garage , don't know what he said but by the time I got him he was done , talking about too many witnesses " , that got seb to realize as he voiced out concerned " that's why he seemed so cryptic , well more than usual, he asked me to get ready to head out to Brackley headquarters for some urgent business had to talk him out of it " she snorted" Don't be so sure , He asked me to join too right before quali so I reckon that talk didn't do much , Kimi is in it too so .... Yeah ".

Silence overtook them as their somber faces took her demeanor in , her now fidgeting fingers , tense shoulders , and strained smile , seb stepped up giving her a tight hug whispering " are you okay?" And she reciprocated with a strained voice " yeah , it's just didn't hit me yet so I would give it two to three days to fully set in but right now, everything is shitty and I want to cry but I'm too angry to cry so now I'm hungry , I want ice cream ". That earned her a sympathetic smile from Lewis as he pulled her next " I known darling , let's grab our things and I promise you we'll get you as much of ice cream as you want okay? ", " Okay , but I'm not going there , I can't , they're taking down my name and number off of everything" she let out with a small voice as he sighed heavily "already!? They couldn't wait?" Shaking his head while heading up to their drivers rooms .

Danny put his arm around her shoulders swaying them as he reminded " it might be so shitty and as bad as it seems , but we've got you okay? You'll find us there whenever you need us , you're stuck with us for good , and if you wanna burn down you know what , you know where ........." Seb snapped. " no one is burning anything!" Only for him to carry on pretending to whisper " we won't tell him " causing her to let a loud giggles at how serious Daniel was and how seb was trying to tell him off of it ." Just know you won't be alone in this".

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

Text

To a Tea 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character: Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don't @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

“He’s here,” Jenna’s warning brings you attention away from siphoning what’s left off the peppermint leaves into the fresh tin.

You glance over without any other directive. He always waits in that same spot. Even if the table’s empty, he doesn’t sit right away. You give you co-worker a look and smile as you put the lid on the tin and slide it out of the way.

You wash your hands thoroughly before you grab the cylinder of disinfecting wipes and sweep around the end of the counter. You step out onto the tea room floor as his eyes find you, expecting you. You’ve adjusted to his ritual, almost compelled to it.

“Hello, Raymond,” you great as you approach the empty table for two where he sits with his back to the wall and his eyes towards the door.

“Miss,” he greets in his way.

He’s a bit uptight. Others might say worse but once you learn his quirks, he’s very human. Even if everything else about him is mysterious.

Sometimes you build stories about him in his head. His glasses, his neatly styled hair, and his combed beard suggest a man with an eye for his appearance. His suits might be better fit to library or a professor’s podium. Not sleek enough for a board room. Then you think he might be a writer of sorts but you’ve never seen him with a laptop or pen and most of the local authors don’t show up without one or the other.

You take out a wipe and take your time in getting every inch of the table. You back up as he removes his jacket and you back out of his way. He sidles around the and sits, shoulders set as he grips the table and straightens it.

Whoever he is, he’s very precise.

“Usual?” You ask with a smile.

He looks at you and reaches to pinch the arm of his glasses. The first time he came in, you remember you could’ve melted at his gaze. So stony and unyielding, you wondered why he was even there. Now, there is an ease to it. He prefers the familiar and you have become that.

“Yes, usual,” he agrees.

You nod and swiftly turn on your heel. You go back behind the counter as Jenna snoops from behind the cookie display. You shake your head at her as you wash your hands a second time. He will certainly note that as well.

You go to steep his cup of English Breakfast as the other woman nears and watches the steaming water at your side.

“Don’t know how you do it. He should just have tea at home.”

“Can’t complain for business,” you shrug.

“Why bother? All that fuss for a cuppa.”

“Maybe he likes the ambience?” You suggest.

“He said the lights give him headaches.”

“Oh?”

“Well, he pays his bill. That’s all I ask for,” you add a teaspoon of milk, measuring it out exactly and you move the tab of the bag to hang to the left of the handle.

“Mm, and he sures asks a lot of you, don’t he?” She crosses her arms.

“Jenna,” you look towards the till where a customer waits.

“Ugh, you’re such a bore,” she chides.

You go back into the tea room and cross to Raymond’s table. You set the cup and saucer before him.

“Enjoy,” you insist.

“Cheers,” he hooks his finger into the handle and turns the cup to an exact angle.

You lean back on your heel and he raises his palm, “do you... have any suggestions?”

“For?” You wonder.

“I thought to try something with my tea today. What do you recommend?”

“Well, were we thinking something savoury or sweet?” You reply breezily, “our cheese scones are delicious, and there is the chives and onion bake. I sneak one every Friday. Erm, there are the white chocolate shortbread on special and I think we’ve sold out of the cherry tarts. Oh, if you’d like a combination, there is the cranberry cheddar scone. I don’t mind it but I hate the crumbles.”

He considers you thoughtfully and crosses his arms. He mills the decision with his lips clamped. His blues eyes narrow behind his lenses.

“Do you have plain shortbread?”

“Of course,” you chime, “two for a pound.”

“Two will do,” he agrees.

You hold your smile and once more set off on your mission. He might be stringent, a bit repressed, but you’ve dealt with worse customers. More demanding, sometimes outrightt rude.

You dip behind the counter and grab a plate. You use the tongs to take two of the shortbread biscuit and place them on a clean plate. You take a napkin with you and once more emerge from behind the displays.

You approach Raymond as he sips his tea. You put the plate and serviette before him. He thanks you and adjusts his tie, letting his hand drift down his vest.

“Is that it, sir? Tea alright?”

“That’s it,” he affirms.

“Great, you know where I’ll be,” you chirp and spin.

You stop before you can bring your foot down as he calls your name. He’s only ever said it once. The first time you met. It’s always ‘miss’.

You turn to face him, “yes?”

“Your apron strings are uneven...” he says. “Just figured... I’d warn you.”

You nearly laugh. What an odd thing to worry about. You reach back behind your waist and feels the lengths. Sure enough, you’ve tied them entirely off kilter. You suppose you don’t pay too much attention to that.

“Thanks for letting me know.”

He nods and examines one of the cookies. Then his eyes flick up and keep you from another retreat, “I could fix it.”

“Oh, er, that’s fine,” you wave him off, “not a big deal.”

“It doesn’t bother you?” He wonders.

“Not really,” you shrug, “does it bother you?”

His brows raise slightly and he taps the cookie, shaking off the crumbs as much as he can. He leans forward and nibbles over the plate, making certain not to litter over the edge. He puts the biscuit down and wipes his fingers on the napkin.

“It does,” he says.

You won’t laugh at him. It would truly be at his expense, it’s just a very unexpected offer. You put your arms straight, “if you want.”

You near and turn your back to him. You sense him leaning forward as you stand stalk straight and watch the tea room. The smell of cinnamon and cloves fills the warm space, the shades giving an orangish hue to the din. There are low tables near the center with pillow seats, and the high tables along the walls. You know all the creaks and cracks better than your own home.

You feel him tug the knot loose and his fingers work agilely to tie a new knot. He lets it hang but just as quickly looses it again. You try not to move as he does it several times before he relents.

“There, ears and tails match,” he declares.

You step away and turn to send him a smile, “thanks.”

He doesn’t say anything, only raises his cup and doffs it in a kind gesture before he sips. You twist away again. You should help Jenna before the rush begins. That’s the only thing about Raymond, he does take up a lot of time.

#raymond smith #dark raymond smith #dark!raymond smith #raymond smith x reader #the gentlemen #drabble #sweet and spicy #au #series #to a tea

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jjungkookislife · 5 months

Text

The Nanny [Ch. 4]

pairing: lawyer!seokjin x nanny!f.reader

genre: established relationship, parents au, fluff, 18+

summary: Jin needs a nanny for his son, but when he hires you, he gets that and so much more.

wc: 7.9k

warnings: pet names (baby, love), implied smut, angst, miscommunication (this was the scene I was stuck on for years), self-doubt, make-up sex, unprotected sex, creampie

date: May 4, 2024

The holidays come and go in your new home, ecstatic to decorate with Dae and Jin. Your family and his get along so well, and everyone dotes over Dae-Hyun, who shies away from so much attention.

With his birthday coming up soon, he’s due to enroll in pre-school and it leaves your heart feeling heavy. You weren’t ready to part with Dae just yet, your life had been nothing but him for almost 2 years, and the idea of sending him off, even if it was just half a day—left you sad.

Seokjin was faring much better though, he was used to leaving Dae at home when he had to go to work, and even though it was rough, he was having to come to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t get updates as often from his new preschool teachers. However, Dae needed to socialize with his peers, make new friends, and learn in a school setting to prepare him for Kindergarten in the fall. Seokjin wasn’t looking forward to that either, the thought had anxiety brewing in his belly.

“What if I homeschool him?” You asked as you stroked Dae’s hair while he slept between you and Seokjin.

Seokjin sighed, shaking his head. “He needs to go to school, baby. We can’t be his only friends.”

“But he’s my little buddy,” you pout.

“We’ll meet his teacher tomorrow and see how it goes. Nothing is set in stone just yet but he should at least go to get acclimated before school starts in the fall. We won’t be there to hold his hand and guide him,” Seokjin reasons as he places his hand over yours.

“I guess you’re right,” you acquiesce, biting your lip before you settle into bed.

“It’s gonna suck,” Seokjin chuckles and your frown deepens. “But it’ll be good for him, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you say, muffling a yawn but Seokjin notices it.

“Go to bed, baby. We'll handle this tomorrow,” you nod, yawning as you pull the covers over you, making sure Dae isn’t covered from the shoulders up.

“Good night.”

“I don’t like it,” is the first thing you say when you step into the large brick-stone building with Dae clutching your hand. Seokjin shakes his head, trying to hide a disbelieving smile.

“It’s been two seconds,” he giggles as he places his large palm on your lower back. He grins when you reach the front desk and your heels click against the marble floor. Portraits litter the wall and a giant bouquet of fresh flowers sits on a table in the middle of the foyer. Chairs that must cost a fortune line the walls in the sitting area, and Dae clings to your side as a few adults walk from one end of the hall to the next.

“It’s so big,” Dae whispers as he looks around. He squirms at your side and you hope he’ll be okay coming here in a few weeks without you. The thought sours your mood further.

“Hello, I’m Kim Seokjin. We have an appointment to tour the grounds and meet my son’s new teacher,” Seokjin says to the secretary as you debate carrying Dae-Hyun and making a run for it. You take a step back and Seokjin turns to face you, raising a dark brow, jaw taut as he eyes you with a firm glance almost daring you to even try it. He lifts the car keys with one long finger and you huff.

“Of course, Mr. Kim. Your family can have a seat, and I will page the teacher up front. It’ll just be a moment,” the secretary informs him and motions for the chairs lining the wall. Seokjin thanks her before he tilts his head in the direction of the chairs.

Ruefully, you lead Dae to the chairs and pull him onto your lap. You squeeze him in a hug for a second as Seokjin sits beside you.

“Baby,” he starts, sighing heavily before licking his lips. “It’s an excellent school with great reviews, and I did background checks on everyone. He’ll love it here.”

“I have to come here?” Dae asks his dad with wide eyes.

“This is gonna be your school, buddy. We’re gonna meet your teacher in a second, okay?” Seokjin asks and Dae nods but looks at you for assurance. You plaster on a smile and thankfully don’t have to say anything as a woman walks up to the three of you, introducing herself as Mrs. Hart.

Dae-Hyun shyly introduces himself, his manners overcoming his shyness, and you couldn’t be prouder. You set him on the floor before rising, linking your hand with Jin’s as you follow Mrs. Hart.

The tour starts with a history of the school, but you don’t pay too much attention as you walk down the hall. You skimmed the brochure on your way here and stuffed it in the crease of your seat before getting out of the car.

Dae-Hyun holds his father’s hand as he walks, marveling over the art that litters the walls on the way to the classroom. The four of you come to a stop at room A-1, and Mrs. Hart opens the door, allowing you inside before she follows.

The classroom is rather large, with three tables separated by bookshelves stuffed with books, coloring boxes, and art supplies. On the opposite end of the room is a large rug, a few bean bags, and more shelves containing toys and books. There’s a play kitchen and a science center with a giant fish tank that immediately gets Dae’s attention.

Mrs. Hart is happy to show him around the room while you stay back with your boyfriend.

“What do you think?” Seokjin asks you in a soft tone, to not get the teacher’s attention. You take in the room, there is nothing too extravagant that stands out. It was a typical classroom, more modern than any you had ever taught in before but it was nice and it appeared clean.

“Where are the kids?” You muse as you see the names of children written on the cubbies.

“They’re out in the playground with my assistant, Miss Daisy. We can go out and meet them if you’d like?” Mrs. Hart chimes in and Dae-Hyun nods before asking his father if it’s okay.

“Sure, Dae,” With Seokjin’s consent, the four of you go out the back door and down the steps that lead right to the playground. There are a lot of children running around but Miss Daisy is accompanied by two other assistants to watch the children as they run and climb on the playground. A few kids look over curiously and two come over to say hi.

“Do you wanna play?” One of them asks and Dae looks at Seokjin, who nods. Dae smiles as he runs off with the kids and Mrs. Hart introduces the staff.

“He seems like a wonderful child,” Miss Daisy comments as she sees Dae already laughing and playing with more children.

“He’s a little shy but he seems to like the playground.” you keep a watchful eye on Dae-Hyun, never losing him in the array of children.

“Is this his first time at school?” Miss Daisy asks and Seokjin nods. Mrs. Hart explains the transition process, going into great detail about their rules and policies and the assessments to see where he’s at.

As much as you don’t like the thought of being away from Dae-Hyun, it eases your heart to see him having so much fun already. He pouts when it’s time to go back inside, talking your ear off as Seokjin handles the paperwork.

“Can I come back soon?” Dae-Hyun asks you as Seokjin shakes Mrs. Hart’s hand once they’re done.

“Of course,” Mrs. Hart smiles at Dae. She motions for him to join her, taking his hand and leading him to a cubbie. “This will be yours when you come back and see me. We’ll have your name right here and we’ll have all your stuff ready for you, Dae-Hyun. After your birthday, we’ll have you here with us!”

“Yay!” Dae-Hyun cheers before returning to Seokjin, who picks him up in his arms. He was getting a little too tall to keep doing so but Seokjin would carry his son until he couldn’t anymore.

“We’ll see you in a few weeks,” Seokjin says as he starts to say his goodbye.

“We look forward to it!” Mrs. Hart exclaims, clapping her hands together.

“Bye!” Dae waves at his teacher, who waves back. Seokjin heads into the hallway as you take one last look around, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.

“We look forward to seeing you soon. You have such a lovely family, Mrs. Kim,” Mrs. Hart says with a wave. You thank her before following Seokjin, your heart fluttering in your chest.

Mrs. Kim.

“What did you think?” Seokjin asks you that night when he gets into bed beside you. He’s already sleepy but still wants your opinion on the school. You couldn’t talk freely until Dae had gone to bed and showers were taken before bed.

“It’s a nice school,” you say. “I think Dae will like it. It’s just hard to let him go.”

“Trust me, I know. But it’ll get a little easier,” Seokjin assures you. After all, he is his son so of course, he’d know. You just weren’t used to leaving Dae, much less after moving in with them.

“It’ll take me a bit to get used to. What am I supposed to do while he’s gone? Mrs. Jenkins already does the cleaning and packs his lunch,” you frown.

“You could go to the spa, or maybe meet up with your friends,” Seokjin suggests as he wraps you in his arms. “You’ll have more time for yourself. I know you haven’t had much lately.”

“But I like caring for Dae. That’s why you hired me in the first place,” you look at him over your shoulder.

“And now things have changed, baby. You’re still just as important as you were, just with more free time. How about we open a joint account tomorrow so you have some more spending money?”

“Seokjin,” you sigh. “I don’t want more money.”

“Okay, a car?” Seokjin suggests and you huff. You know he’s just teasing you, you’d denied every attempt of him buying you a new car. Yours worked perfectly fine and it’s not like you did a lot of driving now that you lived with him. Seokjin preferred to drive and you loathed it, so it didn’t matter much to you.

“Don’t stress about it too much, baby. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I’m sure you’ll find ways to occupy yourself. Besides, we need to plan Dae’s party starting tomorrow, and if you want,” Seokjin grins mischievously. “We can work on making another baby.”

“That’s a big decision, baby. Are you sure?” you ask, sitting up to look at your boyfriend. He sits up as well, taking your hand in his.

“I’m sure, love. You’re the only one I’d even consider as the mother of my children. I don’t want anyone else,” he leans in, capturing your lips with his, guiding you to the bed where he kisses you until you’re crying out his name.

The next morning is filled with ruckus. You’ve got the kitchen island in disarray as you look over notebooks and business cards, a tablet opened to a party planner, a laptop displaying your idea outlines, and Dae-Hyun on your lap telling you about all the things he wants for his party this year.

Mrs. Jenkins hovers nearby, knowing it’s no easy feat to plan a party, especially with a child on your lap. She offers to take Dae from you but your sweet boy will have none of it.

“And a bounce house,” Dae-Hyun finishes as he places his head on your shoulder. “We need one of those.”

“So you want dinosaurs,” you pause as Dae roars with his arms high in the air, hopping off your lap to stomp around the kitchen. “And a dinosaur cake?”

“Please,” Dae smiles as he gets back on your lap with your help.

“Sure, baby,” you kiss his cheek as you show him a few pictures on the tablet, liking anything he shows excitement over. Seokjin has given you a budget with promises to help here and there but he knows you enjoy planning events and schedules, so this is your domain.

Last year, Seokjin had thrown a small Paw Patrol party with cake and goodie bags before calling it a day. This time, there would be more children attending, including the ones Dae met at school.

Dae-Hyun loses interest after a while and you continue to plan his party and take notes while Mrs. Jenkins gets Dae-Hyun his lunch.

Slightly overwhelmed by all the options, you decide to bookmark your favorites before setting your tablet aside and having your lunch. Soon it’ll be time to put Dae down for a nap and Seokjin had promised to get off work after lunch. He should be home any moment now.

Just as lunch is wrapping up, the front door opens and Seokjin sings, “I’m home!”

Dae-Hyun grins giddily as he dances in his chair when his father walks into the kitchen. Seokjin greets Dae then you with a kiss on the top of your head.

“You’re home!” Dae claps in excitement and Seokjin nods.

“I left early to see you,” he states as Mrs. Jenkins finishes washing the dishes. Seokjin allows her to end her day then if she’d like and she thanks him before rushing out the door with a see you later.

Seokjin shoots you a confused look and you chuckle. “Dae’s been excited over his p-a-r-t-y.”

“Oh,” Seokjin laughs. “What’s the theme this year?”

“Dinosaurs!” Dae shouts as he roars, and Seokjin pretends to be terrified.

“This little Dino needs a nap,” you state as you pick him up in your arms, and a pout forms on his lips.

“But Daddy,” he cries softly.

“I’ll be up in a second, bud. I’m just getting a drink,” Seokjin assures his son as you head up the stairs to Dae’s room.

He yawns, rubbing his eyes as he goes to grab his pajamas, heading to his bathroom to change and potty before coming to his bedroom.

“Daddy and I will be here when you wake up,” you say as you pat his bed. Dae nods as he steps closer to you, rubbing his eyes.

“Nap time!” You sing as you scoop Dae up in your arms. He finally squeals, laughing as you press several kisses to his cheek. His mood lifted.

“Mommy! Stop!” he squeals, kicking his little feet. You pause, eyes wide as your heart races. You weren’t a stranger to being called mom, mommy, or any variation of it in your field. After all, it was easy for kids to get confused and when they trusted you as much as their parents.

However, this was the first time Dae had called you mommy, and you weren’t sure how to feel. You simply smiled, kissing his head as you asked him what story he wanted you to read. Seokjin lingered by the doorway, a frown on his lips.

“And they lived happily ever after,” you read, closing the book shortly after only to see Dae-Hyun fast asleep clutching his teddy bear. You plant a kiss on his forehead and wish him sweet dreams.

Seokjin is waiting for you in the hallway, with the baby monitor in your hand as he motions for you to join him in his office.

When you enter the office, Seokjin is already in his chair, his face hidden in his large palms, and your heart immediately sinks to your stomach. You haven’t seen Seokjin this distraught since his failed blind dates set up by Namjoon.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you ask, setting the baby monitor on the desk before going around to your boyfriend. He sighs heavily before raising his head.

“He called you mom,” he spits the word like it’s vile.

“Jin, this happens often with children. I’ll talk to him when he wakes up,” you assure him, but Seokjin shakes his head.

“You’re not his mom and he’s calling you mom. This isn’t right,” Seokjin huffs, a hand carding through his hair.

You step back.

“I may not be his mother, but I love him as if he were my own. Seokjin, what is going on?!” You can’t help but be hurt. Hadn’t he said he wanted a family with you? Shouldn’t this be a good thing? You weren’t trying to replace his mom, nor would you ever abandon Dae, so what was going on?

“I just don’t want Dae to get confused,” Seokjin says sharply.

“I thought you wanted us to be a family? Wouldn’t you want him to see me as a mother figure?”

“Baby-”

“No, you obviously don’t know what you want. You can’t tell me you want me to have your kids and then get all out of sorts when your son calls me Mommy. What is it you want? Because I can’t take your mixed signals, Jin! Either you want us to be a family or you don’t! I already said I’d talk to him, but what’s so wrong with him calling me his mom? I’ve been here for him for half his life now and I don’t plan on going anywhere! What’s wrong with you?” You can’t help but hiss, stepping out of his office.

“Baby!” Jin calls after you, but you ignore him, heading to Dae’s room to cuddle him. He may not be your biological child, but that didn’t mean you loved him any less.

It’s awkward.

It’s been two days since your discussion with Seokjin. Your feelings are still hurt by his harsh words and tone. You’d tried your best to be normal around Dae, but you could tell he was noting the tense atmosphere.

You’d taken to sleeping with Dae or in the guest room, something Seokjin had protested the first night, but let it go when you glared at him.

Seokjin felt bad, and he apologized when Dae had gone to bed that night, but you couldn’t forgive him just yet. He’d hurt you and you needed some space. You tried your best to plan Dae-Hyun’s birthday party, spending your days planning and calling businesses to book them for the day of his party.

“We’re going to my mom’s for a bit,” Seokjin announces when he walks into the kitchen with Dae-Hyun in his arms. For a few seconds, Dae wiggles in his father’s arms before Seokjin sets him down. His son doesn’t hesitate to run to you, your arms open and ready to welcome him in.

“Come here, baby.” You press a kiss on his head. “Are you gonna have fun tonight?”

“Can you come too?” Dae asks as he hugs you close.

“Not this time, buddy. I got secret birthday stuff to do,” you whisper, kissing his cheek as he giggles.

“It’s almost my birthday, right? We’re having a party!” He exclaims as he runs back to Seokjin. He takes his dad’s hand, waving as he talks about his party and the cake.

Seokjin gives you one last look before he heads out of the kitchen with his son. You watch them go, sighing as you shake your head in a poor attempt to clear it.

Papers lay scattered on the kitchen island, most of them were the final decisions for the party. You’d chosen invitations with Dae, showing them to Seokjin for approval, but he had said he’d love whatever you chose for the party.

The little T-Rex on the sample invitation stared back at you, Five-a-Saurus.

Cute.

Sighing, you hope you can have a serious discussion with Seokjin to find out where you both stand. You had honestly believed you were heading toward marriage and what about all that talk about being a family and expanding it? How would that work if he didn’t want Dae to see you as his mom? Had you done something to make him think you weren’t up to par?

You needed to get this cleared up as soon as possible.

Seokjin’s been at his parent's home for an hour now, making small talk and whatnot until his father takes Dae to the backyard to play. Seokjin waits until his son is completely distracted before turning to his mother.

“I don’t know what to do, Mom,” Seokjin sighs, his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he watches his son through the glass door playing with his dad. He had explained the entire conversation with his mother over text this morning, nearly in tears as he asked to come over to see her.

“You can’t let one bad experience haunt you for the rest of your life, Jin. So what if Lena didn’t want to be a mom? It’s her loss. She can’t keep you from loving someone else. Has Y/n ever given you a reason not to trust her?” Seokjin’s mom asks.

“Well… no?”

“She loves you and Dae so much. Anyone could see that. She loves both of you so much, and that’s all I could ever ask for. It broke my heart when Lena walked out. She left Dae without a mother and then Y/n walked into your life like a breath of fresh air. There’s no doubt about it, son, she’s in it for the long haul. She treats Dae like her own, and she loves you immensely. Even I can see that,” she chuckles, placing her hand over her son’s.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” Seokjin asks, feeling remorseful.

“Language!” His mother exclaims but nods. “You fucked up.”

Seokjin knows it must be true. This is the first time he’s ever heard his mother cuss, so he knows he totally fucked up, and now he’s got to fix it.

“Can you keep Dae for tonight? I’ve got a lot of groveling to do.” Seokjin rises from his stool, the stool screeches against the floor.

“Sure, call when you can,” his mother calls after him as he rushes out to the backyard, kissing his son’s forehead and promising to get him in the morning.

Dae is ecstatic to be spending the night with his grandma and grandpa, knowing he’s in for a day of being spoiled and maybe ice cream for dinner.

“Baby, I’m home!” Seokjin calls as he shuts the door after him, careful with the bouquet he had picked up on his way home.

“In the kitchen!” you call back, sending the last email you needed for Dae’s party. Dates were confirmed with the bakery, the party supply store, and the caterer. You felt lighter now that most of the party is taken care of and despite your fight with Seokjin, you’re hoping he’ll like everything you’ve picked out for Dae.

Seokjin is timid as he steps into the kitchen. You glance up from your laptop, raising a brow when you see the bouquet in his hands.

“What’s up?” you ask cautiously.

Seokjin bites his lips. “I wanted to apologize for how I reacted the other day and for what I said. I was out of line, and you’re right, I was sending mixed signals.”

You remain silent, shutting your laptop to give your boyfriend your undivided attention.

“The truth is, I got scared.” Seokjin pauses, licking his lips as he crosses the room. He lays the flowers on the kitchen island. “Dae’s never called anyone mommy, and I got scared you’d leave like she did.”

“Seokjin,” you start, but he stops you. He shakes his hair out of his eyes as he inhales deeply. You rise from your seat, going around the island to take his face in your hands, his eyes locked on yours.

“I’m not her, Seokjin. I love you and I love Dae. I’m here to stay, but I need you to be in this with me. You and Dae can decide what he calls me. He can call me mom or he can call me by my name. I love him as my own and I want to give him siblings someday, but I need you to be sure of what you want, Seokjin. I know I’m not Dae’s mom, I know. I’m here to be your partner, to be there for Dae, and to build a life with you if you’ll have me. But we need to be on the same page, Jin.” you say as you stroke his cheeks.

Seokjin nods, a hard feat when you’re cradling his face in your hands. “I’ll talk to him, baby. I’ll do what he says and I am sorry for what I said and for the way I reacted. I do want us to be a family and you’ve done nothing but love us from the get-go. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Jin.”

Seokjin hadn’t taken your fight lightly. That same day, he had scheduled an appointment with a therapist to work through his issues. He didn’t want to start a marriage (in the future) with doubts and insecurities hanging over his head.

He’d allowed Dae to stay the night at his parent’s house while the two of you went over his birthday party timeline. You were excited to show off everything, giggling when Seokjin would say he liked what you picked out.

That night, Seokjin takes you out to dinner, apologizing again as he holds your hand in his. He delicately strokes your ring finger, imagining what it would be like with an engagement ring. He flushes. He truly was lucky to have you in his life, and he wouldn’t let this relationship fizzle because of him.

“Tomorrow we’ll pick up Dae and ask what he wants to call you,” Seokjin whispers as he leads you to your bedroom, his hand in yours as he loosens his tie.

“I think that’s a great idea,” you agree as you take your earrings off and place them on the dresser along with your pearl necklace.

Seokjin approaches you, looking at your reflection in the mirror as his arms wind around your waist. His lips press a kiss on your shoulder and you move your hair out of the way to allow him more room.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your soft skin. His large hands grip your hips and squeeze. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to us. You know that, right?”

You smile. “You know I feel the same way, right?”

Slowly, Seokjin kisses his way to your neck. His hands move over your body to your zipper, where he pulls it down enough for your dress to fall forward. He’s pleasantly surprised to see you’re not wearing a bra when he meets your eyes in the mirror.

“Oh?” he raises a brow as his fingertips brush your skin.

“Figured there would be make-up sex,” you shrug with a smirk as you turn to face him. Seokjin wastes no time in kissing you, his hands cradling your face as your fingers work on taking his tie off and unbuttoning his shirt.

Fiery kisses meet your neck as his hands grip the back of your thighs to lift you onto the dresser. Your fingers run through his hair, tugging on it to pull him into a kiss that leaves you vibrating. His tongue pushes past the seam of your lips and you moan softly against him.

You want to savor him, take things slowly but you’re also in need of a rough, quick fuck that makes your eyes roll back.

Panting, Seokjin presses his forehead to yours, almost as if reading your mind when you get off the dresser.

Turning you quickly, your palms grip the edge of the dresser as Seokjin hikes your dress up to bunch at your hips. With a lightning-like quickness, Seokjin is undressed and the head of his cock is pressed to your wet folds.

“Oh, fuck,” he curses. Seokjin’s forehead rests on your shoulder. Your eyes meet his in the mirror and he stares intently at you for a moment before he turns your head and his lips capture yours in a deep kiss that leaves you breathless when it ends.

Seokjin grips your hips, moaning into your skin as you tighten around him, his hand between your thighs rubbing your clit.

You tremble beneath him, his name escaping you repeatedly until you’re falling apart for him.

“That’s it, baby. Come all over my cock,” he grunts, moaning your name as he cums right after you.

“Fuck,” you groan as you try to hold yourself up on shaky hands. Seokjin chuckles, kissing your shoulder before he pulls out.

“I love you,” he states as he looks at your reflection in the mirror. You lace your fingers with him, squeezing them. “I love you too.”

You were running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off, a weird expression but it seemed to fit the mood.

Dae-Hyun was at his grandparents' home. He had spent the night so he wouldn’t see the preparations for his birthday party in a few short hours.

Seokjin had a therapy appointment in the morning but he would be back in plenty of time to help set up and welcome the caterer and decorator. You were handling the cake delivery, moving everything in the fridge to make room for the three-layer cake you had ordered.

You hadn’t slept much last night, too stressed about everything going right today. You wanted everything to be perfect for Dae-Hyun.

“Baby, I’m home!” Seokjin calls as he shuts the front door and you inform him you’re in the kitchen.

He appears moments later with a grin and a large bouquet. “I knew you’d be freaking out over the party so I got you these.”

Your heart melts, thanking him with a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, babe. It’s my first party for Dae and I need everything to be perfect for him,” you pout.

“It will be. Relax,” Jin chuckles. “Just let me know what you need me to do.”

“Have a look at the cake,” You tell him as you grab a vase and fill it with water for your flowers. Seokjin does as he’s told, grinning when he sees the dinosaur cake sitting on a shelf.

“Oh, he’s gonna love it! Hell, I love it! That’s the coolest birthday cake I’ve ever seen!” Seokjin is smiling from ear to ear. He knew you’d throw an amazing party for Dae and he hopes as the day goes on, you’ll be able to enjoy it.

“Guests will be here in three hours and Dae in one. Your mom will get him dressed and he’ll have time on the bounce house before everyone shows up,” you inform Seokjin.

“Awesome,” Seokjin nods. The doorbell rings and the decorator shows up with her team. They get to work and in less than two hours, your home is decorated to the brim, the main focus being the backyard and kitchen.

The caterer shows up shortly after and Seokjin finishes preparing the last of the goody bags.

Dae-Hyun comes running straight to your arms and you cover his eyes with a laugh.

“You little Rugrat,” you scolded playfully. “You weren’t supposed to come in here yet.”

“He’s a quick one,” Mrs. Kim chuckles as she enters the kitchen with her husband. A gift bag is looped on her wrist and she sets it on the gift table at the opposite end of the kitchen.

“I wanna see,” Dae whines and you exchange a look with Seokjin as you both head out into the backyard. Excitement fills your body as you count down from three and move your hand off Dae’s eyes.

“Wow!” Dae is in awe as he looks around the backyard. There’s a giant bounce house and decorations all around. There’s an area where the kids can dig for “fossils” and another where they can learn about dinosaurs and make their dinosaur masks. And of course, Dae’s playground where kids can run around all day.

Dae grabs your hand, pulling you to the bounce house. Seokjin follows the two of you, laughing when Dae urges you into the bounce house with him. You hold his hand and jump with him for a bit.

“Mom!” He squeals and you grin. After your talk with Seokjin. The two of you had sat down with Dae-Hyun and allowed him to choose what he’d call you. Dae had immediately wanted to call you mom, and that was that. Seokjin was grateful he hadn’t ruined your relationship with his panicked outburst and he was working on his issues with his therapist. He was doing well and he knew someday he’d want you to be his wife. To spend the rest of your lives together.

“Come on, Dae, Mommy has to go change!” Seokjin exclaims and Dae pouts.

“Do you want Daddy in here while I change?” You ask Dae as you stop jumping. Dae nods and Seokjin looks at the bounce house entrance.

“Babe, I don’t think my shoulders will make it through,” he states with worry.

You cackle, dropping to your knees to open the entrance a little more for your boyfriend’s wide-ass shoulders. He thanks you as he slithers in with a grunt from the struggle.

“I don’t think this was made for adults,” he comments as he tries to stand and ends up falling and bouncing Dae in the process. You shake your head, scooping up Dae-Hyun.

“You watch out for Daddy, okay?” You press a kiss on Dae’s forehead before heading out. Dae stomps to his father, who is struggling to stand before giving up and sitting in the middle while Dae hops from one end to the other, his laughter filling the bounce house.

By the time the party is in full swing, you’re busy playing host while Seokjin tries to get you to enjoy yourself. His parents have taken the time to help out and yours have arrived shortly after. They both dote on Dae-Hyun, and he hugs them tightly before he runs off with children from his preschool.

You’ve met a few of the parents, speaking more to the ones whose children have taken an interest in Dae. A few of the mothers eye Seokjin longer than necessary and you bite back your jealousy knowing he’s yours. Nobody would take your little family away from you. You wouldn’t allow it and neither would Seokjin.

When it’s time to cut the cake, Dae-Hyun is speechless as he sees Seokjin carefully carrying it outside to the table. Dae stares at it with huge eyes, fingertip gently touching one of the dinosaurs. He claps his hands when Seokjin lights the candles and you make sure none of the kids are close enough to ruin your son’s moment. You guard him, and Seokjin bites back a smile as he stands beside you. Mrs. Kim is taking picture after picture while her husband films on his phone.

“Make a wish,” you whisper to Dae, who closes his eyes and makes his wish before blowing out the candles. Cheers and applause fill the backyard as Seokjin cuts the cake, handing the first slice to his son before the caterer whisks the cake back into the kitchen to cut it and her staff serve it to the guests.

Dae-Hyun takes off running with his friends after he’s had cake and you're wary as he enters the bounce house.

“That seems like a bad idea,” you whisper. Seokjin agrees as he scoops his son out of the bounce house with his friends. They protest but are soon occupied with Mr. Kim in a T-Rex inflatable costume as he chases the kids around the yard.

You laugh as you watch from the sidelines with Seokjin at your side, his hand on your lower back. He kisses the top of your head, “Thank you for doing this. It’s the most I’ve seen him smile.”

“I’ve got bigger plans for next year,” you admit with a shy smile. Seokjin shakes his head, smiling. “I knew you would. Care to share?”

“Nope,” you stick your tongue out at him and he rolls his eyes playfully.

“Ever the tease,” he snickers, kissing your cheek.

“I think it’s time we handed out the goody bags and sent everyone home,” you state as the kids start falling asleep on their parents' lap after a while.

“I think you’re right, baby,” Seokjin agrees as he steps away to thank everyone for coming. A lot of the parents are grateful, taking their children who are worn out from all the fun and sugar to go straight to bed.

Your parents and Seokjin’s are the last to leave, offering to help clean up but you’ve got a cleaning service stopping by tomorrow to take care of it. Dae comes straight to you, his head on your shoulder and his eyes barely open.

Seokjin kisses his cheek, smiling when he wipes some frosting off his son’s face. “Well, he’ll be sleeping through the night.”

“Definitely,” you agree as you take him upstairs to bed. You change him into his pajamas, promising to open his presents in the morning when he’s more alert. He dozed off within minutes and soon you’re back downstairs with Seokjin.

“Is he asleep?” He asks as he places the leftover food in the fridge. He had encouraged the guests to take home plates of food and cake but there was still a bit left over.

“Passed out. He ran around a lot today. He can use the bounce house tomorrow for a bit before they come to pick it up,” you inform Seokjin.

“He loves that thing. Me? Not so much,” Seokjin grimaces as he rubs his shoulder.

You walk closer to him, your arms draped over his shoulders. “Does it hurt?”

“Nothing you can’t fix with those pretty lips of yours,” Seokjin teases. You smack his back lightly and his laughter fills the kitchen before he turns to face you.

“Thank you for today. Dae-Hyun had the time of his life,” Seokjin says seriously. His hands grip your hips as he holds you close.

“You don’t have to thank me, babe. I would have done it regardless. I love him,” You respond as you take his hands in yours. “I love you too.”

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“But I’m not tired,” you protest.

Seokjin smirks. “Neither am I.”

“Nope! I h-a-t-e it!” You cross your arms over your chest as the car stops.

“Baby, come on,” Seokjin whines as he unclips his seatbelt. “He’s gonna know you’re nervous.”

You sigh, sucking it up as you get out of the car with a frown. You allow Seokjin to get Dae-Hyun out of the car, taking his hand to lead him into the school.

You stomp your way up the front steps after them, not wanting to leave Dae-Hyun alone all day.

“He’ll be fine,” Seokjin assures you as you walk down the hallway to room A-1. Dae is bouncing with excitement, eager to see his friends again after his party.

Once you reach his classroom, Mrs. Hart welcomes you with a bright smile as she greets Dae. Shyly, Dae greets her before she walks him to one of the tables where his friends sit, all of them waving and greeting him cheerfully. They're having breakfast at the moment and you wish you could stay by his side all day.

“Come on, love. We can’t stay,” Seokjin reads your mind and you sigh. You blink back the tears that burn at the corner of your eyes and wave gently at Dae. Seokjin is faring slightly better but he clears his throat and takes your hand in his before leaving at Mrs. Hart’s suggestion.

“We’ll call if we need to,” she promises as she sends the two of you off.

In the hallway you lose it, stopping near the entrance to cry. Seokjin holds you to his chest, rubbing your back.

“It’s okay, baby. You can come get him at 2. He’s gonna be okay,” he assured you and you cry until you can’t anymore. Seokjin leads you to the car, grabbing some tissues from the glove box to dab at your eyes. You blow your nose and sanitize your hands after.

“I miss him already,” You pout.

“It gets easier,” Seokjin promises. “I miss him too but he can’t be isolated. Me, you, and Mrs. Jenkins can’t be the only ones he sees, baby. He needs his friends.”

“I know you’re right but that doesn’t change the fact that I miss my little buddy,” you sniffle as Seokjin pulls out of his parking spot. He’d taken the morning off for Dae’s first day of school but he’d be back in the office in an hour or so.

“You know,” Seokjin muses as he drives further and further from the school. “I always thought when this day came, I’d be the one sobbing my eyes out.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whine pitifully and he smiles.

“I’m not, baby. I just think it’s sweet you care so much about him,” he states as he brings your hand to his lips. “But no, you can’t take him out early on his first day.”

“How did you-?”

“I can read your thoughts, baby,” he laughs as he drives you home. You use the ride home to calm yourself but you’re frowning the moment you walk through the door and realize you’re on your own.

“It’ll be okay. It’s just a change in routine,” Seokjin assures you before he’s heading out for the office. You sit on the couch after he leaves, turning the TV on and placing your phone on your lap.

You count the hours until you can pick Dae up.

“Mommy!” Dae squeals when he sees you at pick-up. You hug him tight as you take his backpack and carry him out of the classroom.

“Did you have fun?” You ask as you take him to your car. Now that Dae was in school, Seokjin had suggested he get you a new car and the more you thought about it, the more you considered it. Besides, if Seokjin had plans of making you a (biological) mother, you’d need more space. Which was why you’d be going car shopping this weekend.

“Luke and Max are my friends!” Dae exclaims as he tells you about his day while you situate him in his car seat. You place his backpack in the footwell and get in the driver's seat. You immediately lock the doors once you’re inside the car, looking in the rearview mirror before you pull out of your spot to head home.

“And tomorrow we get to play outside!” Dae cheered.

“That sounds fun!” You exclaim as you turn into your neighborhood. “Do you want a snack when we get home?”

“I ate at school,” he assures you as he tells you what his snack was as you pull into the driveway. You listen intently, helping him out of his seat before grabbing his backpack and leading him inside the home. He greets Mrs. Jenkins, filling her in about his day at school. She listens intently, asking questions about all his friends while you sit on a stool and text Seokjin.

[You]: got my little buddy back!

[Seokjin 🥵]: good! I’m wrapping things up here so I’ll be home soon. We can get dinner later

You agree before placing your phone down. Mrs. Jenkins ruffles Dae’s hair before he runs off to the living room to play.

Mrs. Jenkins gives you a warm smile. “It gets easier.”

And it does get easier as the days turn into weeks and months. You still get sad when you drop him off and you’ve been picking up new hobbies now that you’ve got the time but none of them seem to stick.

Pilates and yoga weren’t for you. You tried jogging, archery and badminton. Tennis, soccer, volleyball, and hockey. Jujitsu, Karate, and kickboxing, that one was Jin’s least favorite. He hated seeing you bruised after a few sessions.

You then switched to knitting, embroidery, painting, and pottery but you quickly realized you weren’t good with your hands outside the bedroom. So you turned to baking and decorating but that proved to be a challenge and you soon ended up back on your tablet and TV, binge-watching every show you could find to keep yourself occupied.

Seokjin tried his best to help find something you’d enjoy that wouldn’t put you in harm's way but everything seemed to be challenging and you quickly lost interest.

“What about party planning?” Seokjin suggested one night while Dae was asleep on your chest.

“Party planning?” You asked, puzzled.

“Yeah,” Seokjin nodded. “You did a fantastic job with Dae’s. What if you did it part-time on the side? Start small with friends and family and build yourself up from there if you’d like.”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I wouldn’t have a lot of time for Dae.”

Seokjin blinks before laughing, stopping when his son stirs in your hold.

“My parents' anniversary is coming up. I’m sure my mom would love some help,” Jin offers, and you give in.

“I’ll give it a chance,” you agree hesitantly.

And slowly you build your little business. It starts with a few parties, but soon word of mouth gets you booked and busy. You only work when Dae’s in school, and limit the amount of weekends you can attend the parties you plan to make sure they run smoothly. You’re not sure if it’s a career you want to do long term, but you enjoy it when Dae’s at school.

“We’re going away for the weekend,” Seokjin announces on a Friday evening.

“Last minute?” You ask as you grab a duffel bag. Seokjin nods.

“I think we should go to the beach house. My parents have one nearby and Dae can stay with us or them if he chooses.”

“Hmmm?” You muse as you pack your bag. “Suspicious.”

Seokjin laughs. “How is that suspicious? You said you wanted to go back with Dae?”

“I do, but It’s out of nowhere,” you reply as you grab your toiletries.

“Work has been a bitch,” Seokjin admits. “I just want to relax at the beach with my girl and my son.”

“Fair enough,” you give in as you finish packing your bag. Seokjin has his ready to go along with Dae’s and he’s soon carrying them down the stairs and into the car.

Your new car is a shiny black SUV with 3 rows of seats that you insisted were too many. Seokjin, however, had pulled you aside and promised to fill every single one with one of your babies. You bit your lip and met his smoldering gaze, thighs pressed together as heat flushed over your body.

Seokjin smirked knowingly, licking his lips as he stepped away to talk to the salesman. And that had been that.

“Do we have everything?” You ask as you get into the passenger seat. Seokjin straps Dae into his car seat, nodding as he finishes and gets in the driver’s seat.

“Yes, baby. I got the sunblock and all his toys and extra clothes, just in case. Anything else we can buy,” Jin assures you as he starts the car. “My parents left this morning so they’ll be there already.”

“Okay.” you yawn as you lean against the window. You try your best to stay awake, but soon you and Dae-Hyun are asleep.

<< previous // next >>

#seokjin fanfic #seokjin x f. reader #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin fluff #dilf!seokjin #the nanny!seokjin #seokjin x reader #jin x you #fic: the nanny #seokjin smut #seokjin au

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artificial-transmutations · 1 month

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Out Now: Dam Breakers

Hello everyone! I'm extremely excited (and, quite frankly, more than a bit nervous) to announce that I finished my fantasy romance novel Dam Breakers!

For the very TLDR-version: It is available here! Be sure to read the disclaimer below, though.

First of all, thank you! Everyone who reads my stories or likes them shows me that there is at least some interest in my mediocre writing. And even though the novel is not exactly like my stories here (more to that later), it gives me hope that you and other people might like it.

Now, for the actual novel!

Dam Breakers is the tale of Jared, a rather normal modern day college student, and Aleron, an apprentice mage living in a secluded tower with his teacher. One fateful day, they meet and are drawn into a maelstrom of magic, change and love - and dark secrets threatening to destroy everything they loved.

With over 120000 words, this is not only my longest story yet, but also my most carefully crafted one. I will attach an image of my Obsidian graph for the story at the end of the post.

Disclaimer:

As I have mentioned, it is a bit different from the stories I usually post here. First and foremost, it's a lot tamer. This novel isn't meant as a porn piece, but as an intriguing fantasy and romance tale. While there is love, desire and sex, of course, it's way more sparse and less explicit than, for example Closer Than Flesh.

It also features transformation themes, and the concept of change is one of the main focus points of the book, but, again, don't expect 500 pages full of transforming bodies because of it :)

And, finally, for a multitude of reasons, it does not contain AI generated images. I wouldn't be able to generate any that do the story justice, anyway.

Now that you know what not to expect, here are some things you MAY expect:

Transformation. Both in the sense of bodily changes but intriguing character development as well.

Gay Love. This is a story about two men from different worlds falling in love with each other, and their stony road to being together.

Magic. It's a fantasy story, and a truly enchanting one at that, with a fresh concept of magic and change.

Story. Last, but certainly not least, it's a good and interesting read, at least according to my opinion. Since I might be a bit biased here, let me tell you that my beta readers agree.

If you still want to read it (and I hope you do!), then you can grab your copy here:

If you are not in the US, you can just replace the .com with, for example, .co.uk to go to your local Amazon marketplace

I have not forgotten, of course, that I promised a special condition for you folks at Tumblr. Since Amazon makes it a bit difficult to actually implement that, I plan to offer a time limited discount or giveaway in a few weeks. I'll announce the exact time here on my blog beforehand.

If you really want to support me, it would mean a lot to me if you could leave a review on Amazon. That influences the algorithm a lot and helps the book get visibility, which is incredibly important . So, please, if you like the book, leave a review.

Teaser / Preview (mild spoilers)

And here is a short look into the book, from chapter 4. It contains some mild spoilers, but nothing too important. I also added an AI image, which is not in the book (see above).

[...]

Even though the weather was unstable, Jared enjoyed the journey through the vibrant spring land. It was a closeness to nature he had never experienced. Even back home with his parents, in rural Texas, the land had seemed different. Back there, the wilderness had been tamed decades if not centuries ago. There was no wonder, no adventure. Here, there were hills and forests, rivers and bogs, and who knew what else. It was as if Jared was seeing the world for the first time. Not to mention the smell. Jared could not remember a time when he had smelled the spring air like this.

In addition to the landscape, Jared's traveling companion also played a big part. Aleron was an intelligent and witty conversationalist, and Jared learned a lot about his new friend. They spoke of everything under the sun, and Jared told stories of his home, of modern inventions and the differences between this world and his. Even though Aleron was fascinated by his tales, he was also clearly skeptical about some of them, especially when it came to the more complex topics. That was only fair, though, as Jared himself had a hard time believing the fantastic stories of this world, even after having experienced some with his own eyes. Dragons, for example. It didn't matter how often Aleron recited what little information he had about those magnificent beasts, something in Jared resisted fully believing in them. He hoped that he would be able to see one of them for real - although Aleron repeatedly stressed how dangerous they were - in order to be able to fully believe in them.

While Aleron's world was certainly magical, it wasn't all like in the Lord of the Rings. There were, for example, no other humanoid races, as Jared learned. No elves, dwarves or orcs, at least to Aleron's knowledge, which, to be fair, mainly included the Kingdom of Myrthien. Although the Whispering Woods were not technically a part of Myrthien, and were generally considered wilderness, it was clear that they were no part of another nation either. The closest neighboring country to the Whispering Woods would either be the Golden Isles beyond the coast south of Eldoria or the Verdant Lands to the west. According to Aleron, the Verdant Lands couldn't really be considered a nation, too. It was more of a loose confederation of tribal communities, living in the characteristic dense forests of that region.

As Helena had promised, Luminara wasn't difficult to find. The capital of Myrthien was well known and if there was a sign post somewhere, it was sure to point to Luminara.

There was no shortage of smaller and bigger settlements, and about every third or fourth night they were able to sleep in beds. During the other nights, they made camp a bit off the road in order not to attract too much attention. It was one of those nights, about two weeks after they had left Eldoria, that Jared woke up in the middle of the night. Aleron, who was sleeping next to him, was moving in his sleep and occasionally made a sound, which had caused Flicker to gain a bit of distance to the sleeping man.

It was clear to Jared that his friend was dreaming, and he briefly considered waking him up from his nightmare. However, judging by the sounds, Jared began to suspect that Aleron was not having a nightmare but quite the opposite, although the dream seemed to be just as intense.

Quietly, he left the tent, careful not to wake the sleeping mage. Outside, he was greeted by the stars and a clear sky with an almost full moon. The campfire was almost dead, just a few embers and ashes were left. It was a quiet, peaceful night, and Jared decided to go to the nearby lake to drink. Aleron had never once shown a single sign of sexuality before, except for demonstrating a certain uneasiness around nudity and related topics. He never had commented on any woman - or man - in a suggestive way, so Jared had been half- convinced that this whole topic didn't have any relevance to the mage at all.

Of course, for his own reasons, Jared had avoided the subject as well, so, perhaps Aleron thought the same about him. Jared didn't mind that. As magical as this world was, he had yet to encounter a single sign of same-sex attraction. Perhaps this wasn't a thing here, biologically, or perhaps it was socially frowned upon, like in his world's medieval ages - or rural Texas, present day. In any case, there was absolutely no reason to bring that topic up, so he didn't. Not bringing up his sexuality was a sport he was very experienced in for 9 years straight now, after all.

As Jared neared the lake, he was feeling weird and tingly all over. It was not entirely unpleasant, but it stirred a vague memory in Jared. He had felt this feeling once before, but he couldn't quite recall when.

When he bent down to scoop some water into his hand, he stopped before his fingers touched the surface of the lake. The moon was bright, and Jared could see his reflection in the mirror-smooth water quite well. The only problem was that it was not him who was looking back at him.

Of course, there was a strong resemblance, but the details weren't right. His face looked somewhat stronger, his jawline a bit squarer. His hair a bit lighter and styled like the day he first stepped out of the mirror. On his chin, there was a short well-groomed beard even though he had shaved just last morning. It wasn't just his face, though. As he looked down on himself, he looked fitter than he should, as if he was visiting a gym regularly. In fact, the definition of muscle on his torso increased further, just as he was watching. Suddenly, the wonder was replaced by fear. He had felt that way before, and now he remembered when. It had been during his first visit to Aleron's world, when his body was 'destabilizing' as Aleron had put it. Given, the feeling had been stronger then, but it was definitely the same. And now, his body was changing again, and he was weeks of travel from the magic mirror.

Half-panicking, he sprinted back to the tent, not caring about being quiet anymore. Perhaps Aleron knew what to do! He ducked into the entrance and called out to the mage.

"Aleron, wake up!"

Almost immediately, the apprentice jolted awake. "Jared? What is wrong?"

"I... don't know, it's me. Look at me!"

After a few words of encouragement, Flicker began burning brighter, allowing them to see in the tent as well. Aleron looked at the half-naked Jared critically for a few moments before asking: "Okay... what am I looking for?"

"Can't you see? I'm..." However, as Jared looked down on himself, everything was fine again. He was looking at his plain old self, just as he should look like. The tingling feeling was gone, too.

"Oh." Jared felt incredibly stupid all of a sudden. "I... must have been imagining things."

[...]

If you liked the teaser, be sure to give the whole thing a read :)

Let me close with another whole-hearted Thank You for your continued interest!

Stay awesome!

And here, as promised, a peek at the creative complexity of the story:

#male transformation #muscle transformation #romance #not a story

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tin-wufborf · 2 months

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Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 12)

Hello party people, and welcome to part 12! This installment is brought to you by my summer cold because there's nothing quite like having a cold when it's been 100+ degrees all weekend!

Again, thank you all for all of the support you've shown this series. Before we move forward, I just want to give you all a little heads up that we are now entering my "anti-Scott McCall" era (which I have yet to leave, tbh; I just read less Bad Friend Scott McCall fics than I used to). There aren't a ton of them on the list, but there's enough of them that I feel like a warning is a good idea, and I know there will be more moving forward. Okay? Okay.

No more rambling on for me. I'm working against the clock in terms of when my sinus pressure kicks in for the day, and I want to get this out sooner rather than later so I can get back to simulated trucking.

Smoochies and squeezies!

List and links to previous/next part(s) below.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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You and the Night by Hyperion327 (E | 1/1 | 9,634)

Stiles has a secret. Ever since he was ten, there's been... someone who appears in his night from time to time, someone with glowing gold eyes that no human being could ever have. His shadow has been there for years, keeping watch in the darkness. He should be scared, should have told his sheriff father about the intruder from the beginning, but he can't. Not when the shadow has been the one who's comforted him on the lonely nights. Even if he can't see him, he knows one thing for sure: He trusts him absolutely.

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Oblivious Misadventures, and Other Such Tales by Little Spoon (JaydenNara) (M | 6/6 | 11,240)

Going to college was exciting and new, a chance for new friends and a fresh start, and the best part was, there was a supernatural fraternity on campus, meaning Scott finally had the freedom to be himself.

Then he met the resident human who came with a stalker alpha. What was the point of a supernatural fraternity if he still had to pretend to be human. And seriously, did Stiles ever fall asleep somewhere normal?

(aka - Five TImes Scott Found Derek and Stiles Sleeping, and the One Time He Didn't)

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Theory of Overprotective Canines by reosepetals42 (T | 1/1 | 11,798)

Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.

Or at least he is until Derek decides he's moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.

This is not going according to plan.

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Throw Me to the Wolves by skoosiepants (T | 1/1 | 13,493)

He feels the physical embodiment of devastated, his already too strung-out mind struggling to wall up all the hurt, the rejection—he takes a deep shuddering breath and looks down at the shredded skin on his arms, at the sluggish way they’re weakly healing.

There is nothing, nothing he wants more than to have Derek sweep in and make everything all better. He should have known, though, that something like that would never happen to him.

OR -

Stiles accidentally gets bitten, and everything goes to hell.

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Where We Belong by thecheekydragon (E | 1/1 | 16,548)

Derek rescues a little werewolf girl and takes on the responsibility of caring for her. Stiles helps.

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And The Moon Shined A Little Brighter by LuneFaitLaFolie (T | 1/1 | 17,952)

It’s not in the same spot, it’s over his left shoulder blade, almost like it’s over the back of his heart, but it’s just as big. It isn’t black either, so it also doesn’t match any of his other rune tattoos, which Stiles can say with confidence without looking, are either black or blue. No, it’s a deep red, the same colour as Derek’s alpha eyes.

It is though, a huge ass matching triskelion permanently on his body, and he has no clue how the fuck to tell Derek about it.

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Safe Place to Land by Green (T | 1/1 | 19,298)

The Hales have been tracking a group of hunters who've targeted small packs with the help of a magic user. When they finally attack the hunter compound, they aren't expecting to find Stiles, a Spark who's practically a slave, and his young werewolf son. Derek isn't expecting the Spark to be his mate, either.

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Foolish devouring things, build your castle in me by LunaCanisLupus_22 (E | 1/1 | 23,181)

“I will marry you,” he declares. “But should any more harm come to my father or my people, I will raze the earth itself until I feel the lifeblood drain from your corpse and paint my skin with it.”

It is not an idle warning, but from the princeling it has none of the desired effect. Derek feels no fear, but in this instance at least diplomacy triumphed over the spilling of more blood. It is all the same to him anyway. But Regent Peter was most insistent they avoid a drawn-out, gruelling war.

“Then we have reached an accord.”

Or the barbarian sterek war AU that nobody asked for.

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She Walks in Beauty series by breakaway71 (2 works | G-T | 29,144)

1. Innocence (G | 1/1 | 964) Claudia wonders, sometimes. 2. All That's Best of Dark and Bright (T | 1/1 | 28,180) It's not a gender identity crisis if you've known all along what the problem is. If you've been purposely trying to ignore it since you were old enough to consciously make that choice. But what happens after that, when you finally learn how to let go?

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No Rest For The Wicked (Love is Kind) by midnightcas (G | 11/11 | 31,328)

When a homeless, scared for his life, kid attempts to hold up Stiles Stilinski's bakery, the last thing he expected was to be offered a muffin...or a job. . . . "I have a feeling that you don’t want to be a felon on the run from the cops your whole life. Especially over such a stupid thing like robbing a bakery. Murder I’d get, but this?”

“Well," his eyes fall to the gun, "I might murder you.”

Stiles swallowed.

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The Accidental Hale Brood by Julibean19 (M | 1/1 | 42,370)

“I know, I just…” Derek trailed off, rubbing his forehead with both hands, frustrated that the right words weren’t coming to him.

“What?” Stiles asked honestly, pulling on one of Derek’s wrists until he could see his expression again.

Derek’s heart pounded in his chest so loud he figured even Stiles could hear it. He inhaled deeply and let the air out slowly through his nose, trying to keep his voice even. “When we take them places, and spend time with them, and make them smile… it feels like…”

“It feels like they’re yours,” Stiles finished for him, licking his lips before snagging the bottom one between his teeth.

“No,” Derek said, taking Stiles by surprise. “It feels like they’re ours.”

“Oh,” Stiles said simply, mouth still slightly open while he contemplated Derek’s words.

Or, the one in which Stiles and Derek have been BCPD partners for years when they are assigned Halloween duty and run into a couple of kids from the orphanage. One fake marriage and two real adoptions later, they somehow become a family.

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Ain't no rest for the wicked by MBlack93 (E | 8/8 | 46,463)

''What the hell happened, Stiles?!'' He hisses.

Stiles tries not to flinch from his dad's tone, but he fails miserably.

''I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I - I woke up and everything in my room was in flames, even the bed, dad, I - I don't know what is happening.''

As soon as he said it, his dad's face closes off.

''You're telling me that you don't know? You didn't remember? Is it possible that you're - you're poss-''

''NO! No, no! No! It can't be. It just can't.''

''But you don't remember Stiles. You don't know what happened.'' His dad remembers him. His eyes are boring into Stiles's.

Stiles falters because no, he doesn't remember, he doesn't know what is happening, but the Nogitsune is gone, he saw it happening, he knows it's gone. He can't be possessed any more.

''Dad-'' before he can finish his sentence, his dad lets out a weary sigh. And a sob escapes his dad when he looks at the burning house.

''I - I don't know if I can deal with this son.'' His dad confesses. And - and that's it. Stiles stops doing anything for a moment until a sob escapes him, and he can feel his heart break into a million pieces.

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I'll be right back (in 24 years) by AnaIsFangirling (Ana_K_Lee) (T | 35/35 | 48,190)

When Derek thought about time travel – and he did, a lot – this was not what he'd had in mind. He'd thought he would see his younger self, tell him to leave Paige alone and NEVER trust Kate Argent. He'd thought he’d get to come back once that was done and everything would be perfect. He never imagined having to relive his entire life.

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Those Are The Days That Bind Us series by s_a_m (3 works | T-M | 63,389)

The series follows Stiles as he struggles to deal with the trauma, heartbreak and betrayals that cause him to run away from Beacon Hills, and the adventures that come during his time away.

[Subsequent parts are in progress and will be posted upon completion.]

1. Those Are The Days That Bind Us (M | 5/5 | 52,171) His father wasn’t stupid. He was an officer of the law, trained to look for patterns. He confronted Stiles about werewolves and they shouted and Stiles tried to explain but his father was so, so, so mad, more mad than Stiles had ever seen him, ever in all his life and then his father looked at him and said, “It’s like you’re not my son anymore.” And Stiles broke. 2. You Have One New Message (T | 1/1 | 5,093) A flash in the corner of John’s eye caught his attention. The home phone had a message. He hit play. ‘You have one new message.’ “Uh, hey Dad. It’s uh, its Stiles.” 3. Himmelfahrtskommando (M | 1/1 | 6,125) She can’t help but laughing at the growing knowledge that her whole life has likely just been one long suicide mission.

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stuck in reverse by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli) (E | 1/1 | 65,656)

Look, Derek is the worst. Everyone knows that. Their fearless leader is a total and complete failwolf.

Which means the rest of them? Are kind of the worst too. They’re a ramshackle, slap dashed, sorry excuse for a pack that’s about a half second away from getting one of them killed. And this is a problem, because Stiles would really like to survive high school. Thanks.

Still, nobody deserves what Derek has gone through. Nobody.

And it’s about time somebody told him that.

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Just the Same by foxlavender (G | 7/7 | 68,066)

Something is seriously up with the captain of the lacrosse team. There's just no way Derek Hale is human. *** “I was wondering if you're even human. You move so quickly. I mean, it's ridiculously fast. No human should be able to move that fast, y'know? It's unfair for us. I mean, it's obvious you work out, and I don't, so that could be why, but like...I was just wondering if you were human, that's all.”

“Stop talking, Stilinski, or I'll—”

“Put me on the bench all season?” Stiles asks knowing full well that Derek Hale can't threaten him with shit.

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The Fox & The Wolf by Dextrous_Sinistrous (E | 10/10 | 79,151)

The war between the fox and wolf clans has raged for centuries, ignited in a time before anyone can remember. Now both clans—tired of the bloodshed and hate—are searching for a way to end the war.

Crowned prince Stiles Stilinski—heir to the fox clan—has agreed with his father to meet with the Hales, the ruling royal family over the wolf clan. Under the counseling of the Druids, both clans are presented with a solution to the war: unite the Stilinski and Hale clans through marriage. To quell their people's anger, both Stiles and Derek—eldest living Hale Alpha—are urged to accept the other as an equal; as their mate.

For the sake of their people, both houses make the ultimate sacrifice by choosing duty over love. But, out of what was first assumed to be compromised, quickly turns to be a better match than either could have hoped for. But not all is easy for either clan, as some members refuse to believe that the war could end so easily.

[Update: I'm stating here, because some people aren't reading the author note at the beginning, this story was inspired by/based on Amelia Atwater-Rhodes' Hawksong]

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Didn't See That Coming by knittersrevolt (E | 43/43 | 83,838)

Stiles leaves Beacon Hills in the dust after he catches his husband cheating on him.

He finds his way to New York where he starts working for the Hale House Nursery, accidentally adopts a werewolf baby (through no fault of his own thank-you-very-much), and somehow starts training to be an Exorcist Emissary. So, in general, life was going good.

Then he hears that demons have found their way into his hometown. Can he face his inner demons and go back to save the day?

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I know that you love me, even when I lose my head by LunaCanisLupus_22 (E | 13/13 | 135,585)

“We’re not mates, Cora,” he insists. “I mean look at him-“

“Ouch,” the kid says, no longer pushing that shit eating grin.

“He’s- he’s,” Derek tries, at a loss of how to explain why this can’t be possible. Why it shouldn’t be possible.

Or the one where Derek gets attacked by hunters, ends up with amnesia and forgets Stiles is his mate

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Manipulated by DearDaisy (Scribblesnpaws) (M | 30/30 | 221,251)

Nine years ago, Scott kicked Stiles out of the pack. Stiles left and never returned. But now his dad has been hurt, so Stiles returns to take care of him. No one knows the truth of what happened back then, not even Scott or Stiles. But that's about to change.

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#teen wolf #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek fic rec list #sterek fic rec #fic rec list #rec list #fic rec #tin's rec lists

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afyrian · 3 months

Text

ch. 1 - grievances and clay m.list

the sun's rays permeate the shop's front window. it lingers in the room as the dust particles float throughout. you stare at the clay bowl in front of you. something about it seems off; the rim looks a little wavy, maybe there's not enough space at the bottom of the bowl. although grabbing out your measuring tape and your template don't seem to reveal either of those issues.

even when you stare intently at it, your elbows resting on your knees, hands clasped in front of you, you can't see it. it looks so different and yet so similar to that of the other bowls. biting your lip, you stuff your earbuds in and let the nearly deafening song block out everything that's distracting you.

the light construction on the front of the store, the people lining up for onigiri miya, your lousy morning when trying to park. everything culminates into a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions as you push the wheel's pedal. it spins rapidly and you can finally see what the issue is, the base of the bowl is slightly too large.

to most, it wouldn't be noticeable, especially if they only saw this one. however, you can't help but immediately wet your hands and run them up the inside and outside of the bowl. pushing in slightly, you bob your head to the music, letting your free foot tap aimlessly against the vinyl flooring.

this moment, this morning routine is the only thing keeping you together right now. even with the slip on your forehead, drops on the floor that need cleaning, and the mess on your clothes, it's the greatest thing you've ever learned to do. it's relaxing (sometimes) and gives you a chance to think things over, it's your alone time-

just as you find yourself happy with the bowl, someone's knocking at the back door. your eyebrows furrow slightly, gaze flickering to the clock. it's ten o'clock, your shipment of a new wheel was supposed to be coming. you groan slightly, shaking your head. you don't even have time to remove the bowl from the wheel as you rush for the door.

you pull out your earbuds, setting them on a nearby table. pretty much everything within the shop has dried clay on it, another deep cleaning day coming. even the door handle has spots of clay on it, more caking on as you open the door, "hello?"

"yeah, i'm here with your shipment, i've been told we need to bring it inside. this is the correct address for the pottery wheel, yes?"

"yeah it is, thank you. i almost forgot it was coming in this morning!" you try to laugh off your poor time management, your smile falling as the delivery man keeps his stubborn frown in the same space.

"okay, haru, let's get that wheel out.." he grumbles to his younger coworker, slowly walking to the back of the moving truck.

you bite your lip, taking in the fresh air. some mornings you get in at five and stay there until the end of the day. stepping outside and smelling food cooking, hearing the birds chirp, it is rather comforting. the only thing ruining it is the sound of a drill running. of customers out front raving about the reviews of onigiri miya.

blocking it out some, you look around the back area of the shops, noticing another delivery truck nearby. it's emptying out fresh veggies and stored boxes of what you assume to be meat. you narrow your eyes, not even noticing the man standing beside you. he follows your eye sight and wonders why you're staring at it, his head slightly tilted.

"everything okay?"

"oh yeah- oh.. uh yeah, just wondering what they're delivering for the new restaurant," you barely look at him, not noticing his cap and apron, his arms crossed over his chest.

“you could just ask you know,” he leans towards you slightly, giving you a smile.

only now do you give him a once over. he’s rather tall, his hair hidden from a baseball cap. some grey streaks escape from the bottom of the hat… onigiri miya’s logo embroidered into the front. your eyes open a little wider as you finally look him in his eyes. they’re grey, matching his hair and the monochrome look of his outfit. the only thing sitting out is an old rag on his shoulder.

“oh you work there?”

“i mean, you could say it, it’s my restaurant,” he shrugs his shoulders, looking back at the truck, gaze moving back towards you some, “hi, i’m miya osamu.”

your lips part slightly, a few things running through your mind. firstly, he looks quite young to be owning his own restaurant. secondly, he watched you stare down his ingredients like you’re hardcore judging him. and thirdly, he keeps looking at you like some enigma. a mystery for him to solve and understand.

part of you wants to immediately tell him off for the loud noises and long lines and the odd look. however, a frog gets caught in your throat and attacking him makes your hands sweat, “uh you are? that’s- good for you. i’m l/n y/n, i own the earthen kiln, the pottery shop. i’m surprised you’ve opened your shop before the front is finished.”

“yeah, thank you. due to the costs of improvements, i wanted to get opened quickly,” osamu looks over at you, noticing you looking at your own moving guys, them slowly bringing a large box down from the truck.

“yeah that’s.. understandable. honestly, it can be rather loud at times, the construction and all of the customers. my customers preferred the quiet pace of the last restaurant…” you take in a deep breath, not wanting to make eye contact with your new neighbor.

he nods slowly, unable to tell if you can see or not. osamu understands they’re loud, his customers can definitely hear that, but there isn’t much he can do. not until everything is finished and secure, “right, well they shouldn’t be too much longer. but i should be heading back inside to help finish cooking for the lunch rush.”

“i have a class soon as a well.. just make sure you get your customers to calm down some,” you finally get a good look at his eyes, hoping it comes across as more than just a joke, your tone trying to stay lighthearted.

“you do? well, this may help you look a little more professional,” osamu grabs the rag from his shoulder and bring it up to your forehead, wiping off the clay you had somehow gotten on there, “but of course it’s a pottery class, so that probably doesn’t matter much to them.”

you can feel your heartbeat quicken as he reaches over, his finger touching your hair and upper forehead. however, you can’t help but feel like you could’ve been more assertive. to tell him just how much you dislike the constant noise, how it worries your typical customers for the future. but for now, the joking and unusual interactions will be enough.

a/n: so much happier with this :D hopefully you guys like it taglist: @causenessus @osakis-gf @eggyrocks @brkfclub @marisabel14

@bbybibi @etoiile @miyamoratsumuu @girlokarina @gsyche

@cherrypieyourface @zephestia

#☼༄ my bisque beau #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfic #hq #hq x reader #hq fanfic #osamu miya fluff #hq osamu #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu miya x y/n

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thewritetofreespeech · 5 months

Note

Could I request Fukuzawa's (Bungou Stray Dogs) daughter getting annoyed by sons of wealthy families everywhere she goes but is always saved by her ability (to control a flock of birds) or her father?

It was a fairly nice day out, now that the weather was starting to turn. Coming out of the cold gloom of winter and into the bright, but still brisk, light of spring.

“Shouldn’t we head back to the office?” Atsushi asked as he and his partner walked around the city streets. Working on a new case but their ‘investigation’ had ended some time ago. Not long after their second coffee stop.

“Ahhh….what’s the rush? Enjoy the fresh air Atsushi-kun.” Dazai remarked back. Filling his lungs as he spoke.

“I just feel bad leaving everyone else back at the office.” Leaving everyone to work that is. “Hey, is that Fukuzawa-san?”

“Well, what do you know. It is. Boss!” The older man turned to look at Dazai at his call. Greeting his subordinates as they came closer. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m waiting to have lunch with my daughter.”

Atsushi was surprised. Daughter? “Oh, [Y/N]-chan is in town?” Apparently, everyone knew the boss had a daughter but him.

Fukuzawa-san goes on to tell Atsushi that she was studying at university aboard, which was why he had never met her. There seemed to be a concerned look on his face when they talked about her being back in town, which was understandable with everything going on. Or maybe it was just his normal, serious expression.

The men continue to chat for a while before Fukuzawa-san perked up and looked over across the courtyard. As if sensing his daughter’s presence the moment she stepped into the park.

Atsushi had to admit, she was very beautiful. She didn’t look much like Fukuzawa-san, so he had to assume that she took after her mother. [Y/N] hadn’t seem to notice them yet as she walked across the park, presumably to this destination agreed upon by her & her father, when a man stepped in front of her path. He was talking to her rather animatedly and when she tried to step around him, he blocked her path again.

“Should we go and do something?” Atsushi asked. Concerned for her safety.

“No. She doesn’t need help.” Fukuzawa-san assured him.

“Yeah,” Dazai agrees. “She’s got enough back up as it is.”

Atsushi was confused by that comment. Then, suddenly, a crow came down out of nowhere and beamed the man. Clipping him in the back of the head like it was nothing. It was an odd coincidence, but then another bird came down and started pecking him. Then another. Then another.

Eventually the man had to take off running to try and escape the birds. Who chased after him regardless of his pace and [Y/N] kept walking. “Hello Daddy.”

“Hello princess.” Fukuzawa-san greeted back. Leaning in to kiss her forehead before he stood at his normal height again.

“What was with those birds?” Atsushi asked, and [Y/N] grinned at him.

“To Kill a Mockingbird.” She told him. “It’s my ability to control & communicate with birds. Not as interesting as being able to turn into a tiger, but it suits me.”

“You know about my ability?” Atsushi asked curiously.

To which [Y/N] chuckled. “Of course. Dad keeps me up to date on everything to do with the Agency. You and Dazai are often topics of conversation.”

“Glowing reviews I hope?”

“More like headaches.” She replied to Dazai’s comment.

“Are you ready to go?” Fukuzawa asked. Changing the topic.

“That depends. Are Dazai and Atsushi joining us?”

“They won’t be joining us.” Fukuzawa-san replied quickly, before the boys could invite themselves along. He didn’t get much time with his daughter and wanted to spend time with her alone. “I’ll see you two back at the Agency.”

“Roger that sir.” Dazai remarked. Giving a little salute. “Maybe [Y/N]-chan can come by after your lunch and say hi to the others. I’m sure Kunikida-kun would be devastated if he missed you.”

[Y/N] glared at Dazai behind her father’s shoulder. A warning look in her eyes as he gave her a cheeky smile. “Would you have time for that, or do you need to meet up with friends?”

“I think I can make time for that.” [Y/N] replied, back to her sweet smile in the face of her father, before they link arms and head to lunch.

Just as they were out of ear shot, another bird came down and started pecking violently at Dazai. “Ow! Ow! Ow! Ok! Ok! It was just a joke! Knock it off [Y/N]-chan! Ow!”

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#fukuzawa yukichi #bsd fukuzawa #bungou stray dogs fukuzawa #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #atsushi nakajima #bsd atsushi #bungou stray dogs #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs scenarios #bungou stray dogs imagine #bsd scenarios #bsd imagines #scenarios #imagine

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the-scarlet-witch-22 · 4 months

Text

The Lark Ascending: A Chaconne Story (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: Five years after leaving your heart in New York to chase your dreams in Vienna, you're finally a rising star in the classical music world. After scoring your biggest gig yet- a soloist job for a summer concert series in LA- you discover that the past isn’t as distant as you’d thought.

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Hello friends, welcome to the Chaconne sequel, The Lark Ascending! This story is very near and dear to my heart and I’m so excited to be posting it. The inspiration for this fic is from one of my favorite pieces of the same name, The Lark Ascending. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to let me know what you think!

Being a musician was all about sacrifice; you had to be willing to get to the top by any means necessary. You couldn’t just give it your all, it had to be more than that. But what happens when that wasn’t enough? What happens when you have it all just within reach, but no matter how hard you try you can’t quite get there? Those were the questions you had asked yourself when you first moved to Vienna. It seemed like no matter what you tried, how many hours you practiced, it wasn’t right. There was something missing. You did everything you should have, you moved to Vienna (although that wasn’t entirely your idea to begin with), you performed night after night with your blood, sweat, and tears, all while healing a broken heart.

It felt like you had all of the pieces to the puzzle in front of you, but they didn’t fit together. Or rather, you didn’t fit. There was something missing, and no amount of practicing could fix that. There was a small voice in the back of your mind whispering that there was a reason you didn’t make it into the Manhattan Symphony. Agatha would always say how much progress you were making, how much potential you had, that there was promise, but you wondered just how true that was; how much of it she really meant. You had been doing a lot of thinking on your relationship with Agatha lately.

The first few months after you moved to Vienna, you couldn’t even say her name without crying. There were reminders of her everywhere you turned. The coffee shop near your apartment, the rehearsal hall where you spent most of your time, every park you strolled through. You’d stumble upon small things, like a review for a new play, or interesting theories on post-modern music, and subconsciously want to share them with her. A beautiful sunny day, the flowers blooming in the ground, the wind whistling in the distance, the way the dew sparkled on the grass after a thunderstorm, everything was Agatha. You knew they called Vienna “The City of Dreams”, but you never anticipated all of your fantasies to revolve around the same woman. How were you supposed to get closure when she was thousands of miles away?

Your solace came, unsurprisingly, in the form of music. Vienna was the birthplace of some of classical music’s great forefathers, and there was inspiration all around you. Performing with Natasha and her chamber orchestra was like a breath of fresh air, and with every performance you slowly found yourself again. It wasn’t entirely true when they said time heals all wounds, because you weren’t sure you’d ever heal from the scar of leaving Agatha, but with every month that passed you found it hurt less and less. You often thought you would always love her, but this was for the best, you knew it was.

Eventually, it felt like everything was falling into place. Performing with a prestigious group that featured world renowned soloists like Wanda Maximoff meant you were able to make the right connections. You worked harder than you ever thought possible, and channeled your grief into your music to push you forward. It paid off in the end, and with Natasha and Wanda’s help you eventually entered a rising soloist contest.

Getting over your fears of inadequacy was another story. You knew that the one thing that was missing was your ability to believe that you were good enough; that you had always been good enough. No amount of practicing could convince you of that either, it had to come within yourself.

In the days leading up to the competition, you had a breakdown in front of Wanda that changed the way you saw yourself.

You set your violin down on the piano, ignoring Wanda’s concerned glance in your direction. “I think I need to drop out of this competition. I’m nowhere near ready.”

Wanda frowned, looking over the sheet music you had handed her earlier. “What are you talking about? You have everything memorized. You sound really good.”

“I don’t feel ready,” you argued, staring at the floor, trying to ignore the tightening of your chest at the thought of competing that weekend.

“No one ever feels ready for these sorts of things,” Wanda pointed out, and you knew she was trying to help, but you weren’t in the mood to hear it.

“I’ve never had the best luck with these sorts of things,” you reminded her. “I think I need to accept that this kind of dream isn’t feasible for me.”

“Why do you keep getting in your own way?” Wanda questioned, moving the sheet music to the side, her tone curious.

“I’m not getting in my own way,” you politely informed her. “I’m being realistic.”

“Nothing about this, about what we do is realistic,” Wanda corrected you, standing up from her seat. “I never thought I’d make it as a soloist, but I had to believe in myself enough to try. If you can’t even give yourself that, then you’re right; this isn’t feasible for you.”

Her words sat with you for a moment, and as you took it in, you felt the tightening in your chest begin to break until you could breathe again. She was right, you knew it deep down. As silly as it sounded, you had to give yourself a chance.

That ended up being the first competition you ever won, much to your surprise and Wanda’s delight.

Things began to look up after that. You slowly entered more competitions, and eventually you made enough of a name for yourself to begin soloing with various orchestras. It was nothing you could have ever imagined in your wildest dreams, but it was real. You did it. In spite of the heartache and pain, you did it all.

The past year proved to be your busiest yet. You had been booked solid with performances across the U.S. with a wide variety of orchestras, and your schedule wasn’t slowing down just yet. You would be spending your summer in Los Angeles, and you were still in disbelief.

If you had told yourself five years ago that you would be the featured artist in residence of the Los Angeles Symphony’s summer season, you would have thought it was a joke. Being the premiere performing symphony on the entire west coast, they had a stellar reputation and drew in huge crowds. Stephen Strange was a legendary conductor who you had always dreamed of getting to work with. It almost felt too good to be true.

You made it to the symphony center a little earlier than you planned, but with the unpredictability of LA traffic you didn’t want to risk being late. All that was on your agenda for the day was a meeting with the CFO of the board, Tony Stark, and a short rehearsal. But, you were hoping to get a quick peak of the concert hall while it was still empty. There weren't many people around this early in the day, but you had little trouble navigating yourself around until you found the backstage door.

The concert hall was pitch black, and you fumbled with the switches backstage before managing to flip on a single stage light. You wouldn’t need anything more than that, surely. Stepping on the stage you looked out at the vast concert hall, which seemed to hold hundreds of empty seats, and you pictured what it would be like to step out to thunderous applause. None of your previous experiences performing as a soloist had ever been for an audience of this size, and you silently came to the realization that the crowd at the Hollywood Bowl would be even larger. A familiar tingle of nerves coursed through your system as tiny thoughts of doubt twirled around your brain. Were you ready for this?

Absentmindedly tapping your fingers against the music stand at the podium, your eyes swept across the room. A quick glance at the schedule confirmed that no one from the orchestra would be here until later in the evening, so you’d have the place entirely to yourself. Taking a deep breath, you unpacked your violin and began to tune, taking note of how the sound bounced all around the walls, and gradually felt yourself relax. It was funny, you mused as you lowered your violin, how easy it was for you to discredit how much you had accomplished over the past few years. You weren’t just some conductor’s assistant anymore, you were a professional violinist, and a good one at that. It was unclear if your hesitation to accept your success came from the fear of being considered overly cocky, or if it derived from years of low self esteem and an inferiority complex.

Taking another long, calming breath, you swept those thoughts aside. Raising your violin, you rolled your shoulders back, turning so you were facing the front of the hall. It would be foolish to play the entire piece hours before rehearsal, as you would be wasting energy that you would desperately need. Performing was a lot like running a marathon, you couldn’t blow through everything you had in the first few miles and be left with nothing for the end. No, you needed to be intentional with every movement of your bow and shift of your fingers up and down the fingerboard.

The Lark Ascending was a majestic sixteen minute piece that was filled with swooping melodies as the violin sang higher and higher with every measure. Vaughan Williams was a composer during the late Romantic Era, crossing over into the Contemporary, and he had been inspired by a poem of the same name written by English author George Meredith. Vaughan Williams was able to create such stirring imagery with the notes on the page, that it was easy to get lost as you were playing and get transported to this dreamy, astral realm. Filled with a gorgeous blend of vivid colors and clouds, you felt like the lark Vaughan Williams was depicting, soaring through the clear skies.

The piece was filled with vulnerable cadences where you played without the orchestra’s accompaniment acting as a safety net in case you fell. You had to be completely sure of yourself, a hint of hesitation of your fingers or incomplete bow changes would ruin this picturesque painting. Rolling your bow to the frog, you internalized what you wanted your first note to sound like, settling on working on your opening phrase. Placing your fingers on the string, you closed your eyes and began. Your introduction was a stunning cadenza, with the tempo gradually increasing as you began your opening runs, your fingers gliding across the strings.

There was freedom with the tempo, allowing you to take your time and savor each note, your vibrato ringing through the hall. As you climbed higher and higher into the stratosphere it almost felt like you were the lark, ascending into the open air. Performing like this had unlocked a new sense of freedom you always yearned for; the countless hours of practicing turned into an almost effortless sight to any audience. It was as natural as breathing, and each exhale you took matched the strokes of your bow. Nearing the end of the phrase, you tried a new stylistic technique as you shifted your fingers gradually down the fingerboard, making note to try it again later at rehearsal.

As your bow stopped moving you made a few other mental notes of where you could add more vibrato, or improve your dynamics, when all of the lights in the hall turned on, snapping you out of your inner thoughts. The abrupt sound of loud clapping is what startled you the most, as you thought no one else would be using the stage until tonight. You turned around to find the stage door was still ajar, just as you left it, but you noticed a figure lingering in the shadows, and you nearly jumped at the sight. The building was secure enough that you weren’t going to be murdered, right?

“Can I help you?” You asked as politely as possible, setting your violin in its case.

“I have to say, dear, you certainly know how to leave a girl wanting more,” A familiar voice rang out, amusement clear from their tone as they stepped into the light. “You must have had an excellent teacher.”

Agatha Harkness leaned against the door frame, hands folded across her chest. Her dark hair was splayed against her shoulders in their usual messy curls, and you were surprised to find her in more casual attire consisting of a pair of black jeans and a lightweight button-up sheer white shirt. She arched an eyebrow at your shocked expression

You felt your heart stop as you stared into a familiar pair of blue eyes. “Agatha?”

Her lips twisted upwards, smirking, a familiar glint in her eyes. “Surprised to see me?”

Time stood still as you were frozen in place, millions of thoughts dancing around your brain. You were unsure if it had been five seconds or five hours, all you could do was try to remember to breathe. Agatha was here, but how was she here? Were you imagining it? It wouldn’t have been the first time, as you’d lost track of the number of appearances she had made in your dreams over the years. They were all of slightly different variations, but would all end in the same heartbreaking fashion of reconciling with the conductor and feeling a sense of happiness you’d long forgotten…until you inevitably woke up alone.

Blinking, you took a timid step towards her, your hands uncomfortably folding behind your back. “Agatha, what are you doing here?”

Ignoring your question, she walked over to your violin case, and, despite your protests, she picked up your violin, examining it. “I see someone got a new instrument.” Gently turning it, you watched her trace the scroll, her fingers dancing around the pegs. “A shame, really, I was quite fond of your old one. But this is nice too, I suppose. What is it? Italian? German?“

“Swiss, actually,” you lightly corrected her, holding out your hands, signaling for her to hand it over.

As she disregarded your wishes for a second time, you felt a familiar pang of annoyance at how stubborn she could be. Picking up your bow, she raised your violin, setting the bow on the string, before releasing and producing a G-major chord. As the chord echoed throughout the hall you relished in the sound. Agatha had rarely used your violin before. She had always insisted that her talents remained with conducting and the piano, but you recalled a few memories of convincing her to play a scale or two on your violin.

You were normally extremely protective over your instrument, often refusing to allow anyone else to even hold her. However, you recollected, it had never been like that with Agatha. There had been some deep, unspoken level of trust that you had never felt with anyone else.

“Impressive,” Agatha remarked, appearing to admire the sound quality, before finally handing it back to you. Her hands briefly brushed against yours as you wrapped your hands around the neck of your violin, and it was as if you had been zapped by lightning.

But as quickly as the sensation overcame you, it was gone. Agatha retracted her hands, deep blue eyes boring into yours with the same intensity she always seemed to carry.

Clearing your throat, you broke eye contact, feeling the weight of her gaze still on you. “You never answered my question. What are you doing here?”

The conductor released a thoughtful hum, as you watched her move towards the edge of the stage. “Now is that any way to greet the Los Angeles Symphony’s guest conductor, dear?”

Guest conductor? Your face scrunched up, surprise coloring your features. None of your recent internet searches of the conductor revealed she would be in Los Angeles for any upcoming performances. Now, you weren’t exactly stalking Agatha, that would be creepy. You just liked to occasionally see what she was up to. That was normal, right?

“Tony never mentioned a guest conductor when I spoke with him earlier,” you pointed out, leaving out your internal ramblings as you were sure Agatha would get far too much pleasure from hearing you had looked her up.

“Well, it appears that Stephen contracted a rather nasty stomach bug, and I just happened to be in the area.” Agatha explained, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Now, you weren’t claiming to be an expert geographer, but something in your gut told you that she was lying. “So you just happened to be in California when you live on the East Coast?”

“Something like that,” Agatha tossed out, teasing you ever so slightly, and you scoffed.

She had always been elusive; that had been part of her charm. You never entirely knew what to expect when you were dealing with Agatha Harkness, and that used to excite you. She often reminded you of a raging hurricane, with her occasional fits of anger and passion all mingling together like the waves crashing against the shore. There had been a gentler side to her, of course, located in the eye of the storm. That had been the Agatha you were most familiar with, underneath all of the sarcastic quips and horrible temper was the woman you had once fallen in love with.

Nothing about her had ever been direct, which nearly drove you mad. But the subtlety of how she offered her affection more than made up for it. Nearly every night she insisted on driving you home, and you had quickly learned she detested the subway. She had been horrified when you had revealed you almost never cooked, so she made a point to teach you her favorite recipes (while only gently mocking your lack of skill in the kitchen in the process). It was clear she hadn’t been used to expressing her emotions, but then again you had never been an expert in that field either. Still, she loved you in her own way, and deep down a small part of you knew she loved you enough to let you go all those years ago.

But standing here now, you couldn’t help but wonder what she was really doing here. Did she know you were set to premiere with the orchestra? There was a fleeting thought where you dared to wonder if she came here for you, but you knew that was too foolish to even imagine. It had been so long without any word from her, why would she come to you now? You had performed with a few other orchestras in the States over the past year, and there had been a few brief moments where you hoped she would show, but she never did.

She was looking pleased, far too pleased for your liking. A rather dark thought crossed your mind, and you shot her an incredulous look. “Oh my god, did you do something to Stephen?”

Agatha let out a loud cackle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m a conductor, dear, not a homicidal witch. What exactly do you think I could have done, beat him up with my baton?”

That painted a rather interesting image in your head, but you frowned at her, unamused. “You’re not going to tell me what you’re doing here, are you?”

“You always were a fast learner, darling,” Agatha quietly remarked as she took a step towards you, the once familiar pet name sounding foreign on her tongue. “I must say, I was surprised to learn you had selected Vaughan Williams.”

“Why?” You questioned, noting how she slowly inched her way closer to you.

“I suppose I assumed you’d pick something with more flare. Tchaikovsky perhaps, or Sibelius.”

Shrugging, you vaguely called to mind one of the first things Agatha had ever said to you. “I don’t know, I guess I always preferred something more subdued, you know?”

You watched her eyes sparkle with a mischievous glint, and it was clear she knew what you were doing. “Something more subdued, hm? Not a fan of the dramatics?”

“I think that’s much more your genre of choice than mine,” You retorted, feeling the air in the room begin to thin as she circled you like a shark.

Agatha stepped in even closer, and her fingers reached up, playing with the loose strands of hair that fell around your shoulders. You felt your body react to her touch, a sensation you’d long forgotten. “You cut your hair,” she murmured, so low you could barely hear her.

“You haven’t seen me in over five years,” you pointed out, feeling a wave of nerves hit you over having her so close. “I’m sure my hair’s changed a lot since then.”

“It looked longer in Chicago,” she mused, still twirling the strands around, and you were stunned. Chicago? Your most recent performance was with the Chicago Philharmonic last month, and that would mean that…was she there?

“How would you know that?” You pressed, and her fingers ceased their movements, as you searched her eyes for a glimpse into what she was implying.

You could feel millions of unanswered questions dancing between the two of you, the tension thick in the air. Agatha’s hands abruptly dropped your hair as if she had been burned, and you briefly yearned for her touch again.

“My assistant showed me a recording of the performance on their phone,” Agatha explained, folding her hands against her chest. “Your stage presence certainly has improved, but you were late coming out of your cadenza.”

Ignoring the slight dig, your brain honed in on what she said prior to that. Her assistant. You couldn’t help but ask yourself if she had kept the same assistant since you left. A brief, but intrusive, thought made you wonder if the dynamic between Agatha and this new assistant was similar to the one you once shared. Did she call them the same terms of endearments she had bestowed upon you? Did she introduce them to her favorite old movies that you used to beg her to turn on? Did she go out of her way to fluster them, as she once took pleasure in doing to you?

You weren’t sure why it bothered you so much. It wasn’t as if you were together anymore, Agatha was free to do what she liked and to see who she pleased. You had a few short-lived, meaningless flings while living abroad, so it would be hypocritical to judge her. But, there was a voice screaming deep inside you, questioning how special your time together truly was if she could have replaced you so easily?

“Right, your assistant.” You tried your best to keep the bitterness from seeping through, but could practically taste the venom in your mouth.

Agatha raised her eyebrows, but refrained from commenting on your change in tone. Instead, she turned to walk down the stairs of the stage, leading to the aisle. “I only heard the last few bars of your cadenza, and it isn’t terrible, but it could certainly be better. Now, I don’t have my score on me, but it sounds like you’re losing too much momentum as you come down the fingerboard.” She sat a few rows back from the stage, crossing her legs together. “Could you take it again from your last run, and try to make your decrescendo last longer? We want to elongate these phrases to draw the audience in.”

There had been a time when you would have done anything Agatha had asked of you without question. Your daily practice sessions with the conductor had been grueling at times, as she was incredibly nitpicky, and had an impeccably well-trained ear. Any missed entrance or a note that was even just a hair flat she would pick up on. You had worked with a lot of gifted musicians in the past, but none of them could dream of coming close to Agatha Harkness. She wasn’t just a conductor, she possessed the rare ability to take the notes off the page and transform them into these brilliant, colorful works of art.

You used to live for her praise, and would often go out of your way to receive it. It had been your worst fear to disappoint her somehow, even if it meant sacrificing your own dreams to please her. But things were different now, you weren’t her assistant anymore. The burning desire to gain her approval still lingered somewhere within you, but it wasn’t as strong anymore. You knew that you would be okay without it, as you had to learn to live without her.

Giving her a pointed look, you decided to test the waters. “You do realize you’re not my boss anymore, right? I don’t have to just do whatever you say.”

Agatha looked momentarily stunned, and you could practically watch the gears turning in her head. “If I recall correctly, you used to enjoy having me tell you what to do.”

Looking down, you forced yourself to not remember just how much you used to enjoy that. Clearing your throat, you thought of something to fire back with. “Well, they do say memory is the first thing to go.”

“Funny, dear.” Agatha deadpanned, but as you lifted your head you were able to see the corners of her lips were turned upwards. “But I’m not paying you to just stand there and look pretty.”

“You’re actually not paying me at all, the orchestra is.”

“Technicalities,” Agatha said dismissively, waving her hand to signal you to hurry up. “And as you just so kindly pointed out, I’m not getting any younger. Any day now.”

It was clear Agatha wasn’t going to let up, and you weren’t in the mood to keep arguing with her. Grabbing your violin, you gently rested it under your arm. “Should I start at my last entrance?”

Agatha had a thoughtful expression on her face, and you couldn’t help but focus on her fingers tapping out indecipherable rhythms on the top of the seats in front of her. “Hmmm, let’s take it from the top. Do you need your sheet music?”

Shaking your head, you raised your violin. Placing your bow on the string, you tried to rid yourself of the nerves you could feel start to overtake you. Your first few notes rang through the hall as you tried to perfectly time each shift of your fingers and vibrato. Everything had to be fluid; any jerky bow changes or careless finger placements would risk destroying the exquisite illusion you were painting. Some violinists would claim the most challenging pieces to perform were the ones with incredibly fast passages that were often impossible to master. Your brain had to be a few steps ahead of your nimble fingers so you could anticipate what the next notes would be, and one small slip up would send you tumbling down.

While you agreed that exuberant pieces were extremely difficult, you would argue that the hardest pieces to perform as a soloist were the more melodic ones. The pieces filled with stunning melodies, warmed up by gorgeous vibrato. They weren’t packed with thrilling runs up and down the fingerboard, instead they were notated with sweet, heartbreakingly beautiful lines that required you to pour your heart out. Yes, it was scary to have to nail a few hundred notes coming out one after another, but the hardest feat to master on the violin was the ability to play achingly slow, glorious passages. It was to fully captivate an audience with every elegant swish of your bow and dance of your fingers on the strings.

You were so swept up in the notes you had memorized in your brain, you barely heard the soft creaking of the stairs leading up to the stage. There was a particularly bare section halfway through your cadenza, where you were so high up the fingerboard that you needed to extend your elbow to allow your fingers to reach. It wasn’t good enough to merely play the right notes; you had to be confident your left hand was pressing down on the correct spot on the string, while your right hand held the bow but didn’t press too hard down. If you applied too much pressure when you released the bow, it would produce a screeching noise on the string.

Continuing on, you kept your fingers on your bow relaxed, but you could gradually feel your shoulders begin to tighten. This happened on occasions when you were feeling particularly nervous or antsy, and it was usually difficult for you to relax them. As you tried to refocus your breathing and attempt to get your body to calm down, you could feel a familiar presence lurking in the background. Even though you could not see her, you knew she was right behind you. You had found yourself in this exact scenario with the conductor too many times to count. She would always promise to stay in her seat while you were playing for her, but would almost always end up on the stage within mere moments.

As if she could sense you about to stop playing, you heard her voice ring out. “Don’t stop now, dear. I’m just observing something.”

You wanted to turn around and ask if she was observing your ass, but you knew she would merely retort with something to make you blush furiously in response. So you kept going, trying not to picture what she was doing.

As the line slowly started to take you down the fingerboard with every new phrase, you put all of your attention into your intonation. You could hear her take yet another small step towards you, to the point where she was nearly pressed up against you.

“You need to relax.” Agatha uttered, so close to whispering in your ear that you reflexively shivered. She put one hand on your shoulder, rubbing gentle circles. “Your posture is giving me horrible flashbacks.”

It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to remember the correct notes when she was closer to you than she had been in so long. Her other hand rested on your hip, the sensation almost causing you to drop your violin. It had been so long since you last felt her touch, and you could just barely hold onto the melody in your memory. A small voice in the back of your brain begged for more, but you ignored it.

“Relax.” Agatha repeated, her voice firmer this time, and you felt your body obey her command. Your shoulders finally went down to their correct position, but her hands stayed on you. “There we go, good girl.”

Your brain buzzed at her words, feeling your cheeks burn and you were thankful she couldn’t see the effect she still had on you. As you reached the end of the cadenza, you slowly lowered your instrument, trying your best not to fall over from the overwhelming feeling surrounding you. “So, what did you think?”

Using the hand situated on your hip, Agatha swiftly twisted you around to face her, moving the hand she had on your shoulder down to help secure your violin. You stumbled just ever so slightly, but she steadied you, her grip tightening on your waist.

“Easy there,” Agatha lightly teased, and you thought you saw her eyes hungrily rake up and down your body. “Have you always been this jumpy, or are you just excited to see me?”

There was so much you wanted to say, but there was a lump in your throat that grew bigger with every tug on your waist, drawing you impossibly closer to the woman your brain refused to let go of. She was infuriatingly high-handed, extremely egotistical, and was single-handedly the most stubborn individual you had ever encountered. She was obsessive, and aggressive, and had her eyes always been so blue?

“Agatha…” you managed to breathe out, desperately trying to clear your head and regain some sense of self control, but your brain felt slippery.

The combination of the heat from the bright stage lights and the intensely burning gaze from the conductor had you feeling more unsteady on your feet as the seconds slowly ticked by. You’d spent the past year performing in sold out concert halls, yet you were never more nervous than you currently felt being face to face with Agatha Harkness.

It was unclear how long you stood there, staring at each other. You knew Agatha well enough to know she had something to say, it was written all over her face. But she remained silent, one hand situated on your waist and the other gently holding your violin in place. There was something about the way she was looking at you, as if she thought she’d never see you again.

Just as she opened her mouth to say something, a loud buzzing noise began to ring through the hall. The moment was broken as she released you, sighing as she reached to her back pocket, revealing her cell phone.

Squinting at the screen, and you suddenly remembered the difficulty she had of reading off her phone without her glasses, she frowned. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. It’s my assistant.”

You took a step backwards, feeling burned. “Right. Your assistant. Best not keep them waiting.”

Agatha gave you a brief, perplexed glance before answering her phone. “What do you want now?” Loudly sighing, you watched as she closed her eyes, clearly vexed. “I already told you, for the millionth time, it’s the box in my study.” Pausing, as she listened to her assistant reply, she held up a finger to you, signaling for you to wait for her. “For the last time, no, nothing else. Just the box in my study, the singular box. Make sure Scratchy is ready to go as well.”

It appeared the assistant had more questions, as you watched Agatha pinch the bridge of her nose in agitation. “No, no, no, stop,” she then paused, and looked at you again. “I have to deal with this, I’ll see you at rehearsal.”

She stormed away without another word, squawking orders over the phone, and you were left in the aftershock of the earthquake that was Agatha Harkness.

Next Chapter

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #wandavision au #marvel au #agatha harkness fanfiction #agatha all along

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arachnixe · 3 months

Text

Kinship

I peer through the glass into the holding chamber. The specimen within paces aimlessly, without purpose or direction, interacting with nothing inside.

“What’s wrong with it?” I ask.

“She’s been restless and agitated like this since we separated her from the others.”

I glance over at my partner. “‘She,’ huh?”

He shrugs, looking self-conscious. “I mean, look at her. She looks like a woman, doesn’t she?” He gestures vaguely into the chamber. “Or like she used to be one. We’re working on saving her, making her a person again anyway, right?”

I suppose we are trying to save it, but I certainly can’t think of this thing as a person the way it is now. Especially so utterly directionless with its connection severed to the rest of its Swarm.

It is a pretty thing, though, I must admit, vaguely person-shaped as it is.

Its skin—or carapace, rather, rigid and chitinous—is a lovely jade green, its limbs elegant and many-jointed.

The dark, hair-like structures on the top of its head are similarly striking. They’re probably some kind of setae; I’ll want to collect a sample for study.

It looks right at me through the glass, and I exhale softly in an involuntary expression of wonder. Its multifaceted eyes—two perfectly cut rubies of immaculate shine and impossible depth—grip me with something like longing until, an eternity later, it resumes its pacing.

“Doctor Klein? You catch that?” My partner interrupts my momentary lapse of concentration.

“Hm? Oh yes, remarkable eyes. I should document the observation.”

“Er, no. I was reminding you that I will not be staying to join you on your overnight observation.”

“Right. The wedding. Good luck on that. Or congratulations? I’m never sure what to say about these things.”

He laughs, clapping me on the shoulder. I flinch at the unexpected touch and hope my tight-lipped smile reads as genuine.

I breathe a sigh of relief when he leaves.

“Maybe I am the opposite of you,” I confide to the creature through glass. “You barely function without the company of your kind, and I barely function while in the company of mine.”

I settle down and get to work. “Perhaps with just the two of us, we’ll make good progress.”

I review my notes. When it was captured, the creature was observed to be patient, intelligent, and confident. It threatened several researchers and nearly escaped a half-dozen times before it could be brought to this facility.

And then it abruptly stopped trying.

We predicted some kind of reaction, of course. This facility had been specially constructed to isolate those inside from the—still poorly understood—mental connection between members of the Swarm.

We expected it to show signs of agitation, but not this…listless melancholy.

Its behavior remains unchanged as the hours pass, even as I try various forms of stimulation. It acknowledges nothing, not even recordings of others of its kind. Its eyes focus on nothing in particular, with only one occasional exception.

It watches me observe it sometimes.

I visit the glass-walled room with a fresh mug of coffee, and I catch it looking at me again. I move, and its eyes follow.

Yes, I manage to be a figure of interest even when nothing else is. Because I am the only other living thing in here, perhaps?

I approach the speak-through grill and attempt to open communication.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Klein.”

I did not think this through and find myself at a loss without a script. “Can you even understand me?”

It stares at me, unanswering. I fidget with my skirt uncomfortably.

There is something so compelling in its eyes. Though it does not emote like a person, it somehow projects a sense of deep sadness and longing.

“You’re lonely, aren’t you?” The insight strikes me with the force of lightning. I can practically feel its loneliness myself.

Why do I feel like I understand this creature better than my own family or coworkers? Their moods could be inscrutable, but I read this creature’s melancholy as plain as day.

I press my hand to the glass, and to my surprise, it approaches the window to mirror the gesture.

To hell with the study protocols. I want to understand these creatures, and this is the furthest anyone has gotten.

I override the security on the holding chamber and enter, hoping to reinforce whatever this tenuous connection is. I am more determined than ever to save it.

“Does this help?” I ask. “There’s no Swarm here, I know, but I’m here with you, and I’m on your side.”

One step at a time, it closes the distance to me. It moves slowly, as if to avoid startling me. The whole time, its beautiful eyes stare into mine.

Soon it’s inches away.

So close, I cannot help but acknowledge to myself that it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I am utterly entranced by it.

When it reaches its hand-like appendage to my face, I lean into the touch.

So smooth. Cool to the touch. Oddly sweet and comforting.

The affection I feel for this thing surprises me, but I do not care to debate myself about the validity of those feelings.

I probably should interrogate my willingness, however, when it pulls my lips to its mouth in a kiss.

The taste is sweet, like honey. Its tongue is almost human, though alien ridges and protrusions along the sides tickle my own tongue in novel and exciting ways.

It pulls away. The experience leaves me feeling gently fuzzy headed and with a welcome euphoria.

The creature opens its mouth to speak at last. “You save me?”

I recognize, somehow, that it pulled the thought—and maybe even the words themselves—from my mind. Something about that kiss…

I nod. “Of course. That’s the most important thing. May I exit the room?”

It permits me to leave.

I do not bother to reactivate the security.

What I need is fresh air to clear my head, I decide. I make my way through the facility toward the exit, flashing my badge to the overnight guards at the checkpoints.

I need to think clearly if I am to come up with a way to save this creature. And I will save it in a way that is kinder than my partner intends.

No, he would force it to be a person again. That’s a cruelty I’ve had to live my whole life with, and I now know of another way.

The lock cycles. As I take my first step outside, the fuzziness in my head clears. It focuses into distant chatter, into light and life and song and…

The Swarm floods my mind. The sudden connection nearly drops me to my knees, but I maintain my outward composure.

Knowledge, thought, and desire floods me in a way that nearly overwhelms.

The feeling of connection and belonging is so beautiful, I nearly cry.

I don’t. A precious member of the Swarm is still held captive.

With our combined knowledge, we make a plan to save it.

#empty spaces #my writing #hiveminds #becoming

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theresattrpgforthat · 5 months

Note

Hi! You have a really cool blog and have been getting me into indie RPGs, so firstly just thanks :) But anyway, any RPGs that could work well in a play-by-post format, even if you'd need to homebrew or hack it a little? Online friends on the other side of the world are a beast.

THEME: Play-by-Post.

Hello friend! So I haven’t done a lot of play-by-post games, but I’ve tried it out once or twice. I think in many cases, you might not even need a ttrpg in order to do online roleplay; I’ve played in Star Wars pbp that used the FFG system, but I’ve also seen Star Wars forums that are completely text-based and host their own wikis on information that’s been established in their world to keep track of what's happened so far.

That being said, I can understand having a framework to help guide you, especially if you enjoy the structure of traditional ttrpgs. The possibilities of playing these games by post are vast, although I'm noticing that most of the old forums have migrated over to Discord these days - and Discord makes things like rolling dice so easy, so it makes sense!'

If you're converting a ttrpg that uses dice into something that is play-by-post, you'll have a dice-bot, while if you're using a game that has no dice, or is a little more free-form, then that's one less mechanical piece that you'll need to worry about. Other considerations will likely be things like where you put character sheets, whether the game will be organized in a West Marches format or more like a traditional story, and how often players will be expected to write up what they're doing.

All of this is to say that the following recommendations are just the tip of the iceberg, really. Some of these are designed for play-by-post, while others are just games that I've seen out in the wild before.

Lords of Creation, by Five Points Games.

Lords of Creation is a rules-lite cooperative world building game with a focus on the Divine. Players create Divinities and populate a fresh, open world with a focus on myth telling and lore. The game is intended to be played via Play by Post, allowing players to run multiple societies, factions and elements at once.

Five Points Games clarifies in the game text that this game isn’t really their brainchild, but rather the culmination of play-by-post roleplaying on old WOTC forums. It’s a game about divinity and world creation, and each “turn” of the game takes place over the course of a real-time week. I think this gives a lot of time for each player to be involved in each step of the game, as well as providing in-universe ways to manage players who no longer participate, or who need to stop playing for one reason or another. Lords of Creation is also GM-less, allowing everyone to participate in a partial player, partial GM-style role.

Yowl! What A Strange Hotel, by Zargo Games.

Yowl! is a reviewing service that allows customers to rate establishments from 1 to 6 stars and tell the important details of their stay in a handful of paragraphs. This game is about telling the story of a particular establishment, in this case a hotel, through a series of Yowl! reviews. Reviews are from a different perspective each time, and should reveal something interesting and unusual about the hotel. Is there a dark secret that the hotel is hiding, or is something even stranger going on?

Yowl! looks to be designed for a shorter length of play. Together you will create a strange hotel, and then take turns leaving reviews, letting little pieces of information contribute to a larger story-line as you go. I think this is a relatively simple way of playing by post, although it relies mostly on each player’s creativity, as the game doesn’t come with any prompts.

World /Chronicles of Darkness Games (currently published by Onyx Path).

The World of Darkness franchise is a beast, and has been fuelling play-by-post form play for decades. There’s a number of reasons this collection of settings has been so popular.

It’s focused on factions and politics, which means that a large number of people can join in and fill out various political groups and start plenty of drama with each-other. Because the drama is so juicy, dice rolls can fade into the background. (I don’t think that stops you from being able to use it in a small group though!)

It’s got oodles and oodles of lore, but it’s set within the real world, so players can use something like Google Maps to create a fantasy version of a real-life city, and it provides a solid frame of reference.

It’s been around for a long time, which means that there is so much in terms of resources and advice that you can look at, such as the Onyx Path forums, or the WoD Discord Server.

The Chronicles of Darkness games are specifically designed to be cross-compatible. Changelings, Hunters, Vampires, Werewolves and more can all interact in the same universe - as long as the GM is on board with it. Most of the base rules are the same, with some tweaks for each splat, so if you have some players that really want to play a werewolf, while others are more interested in becoming mages, you can combine the two no problem!

Chuubo’s Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine, by @jennamoran.

The Chuubo’s Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine RPG is a dice-less RPG from Jenna Katerin Moran, author of the well-regarded Nobilis and an important contributor to Eos’ Weapons of the Gods and White Wolf’s Exalted RPG.

Pursue fabulous quests. Progress through Issues. And find a place for yourself in a world of breathtaking beauty.

Chuubo’s Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine doesn’t require dice, but rather asks you to role-play through scenes and spend points in line with your character quests. You gain XP for the experiences your character has, the way they interact with other characters, and the steps they take to move towards completing their quest. Because character advancement is dependant on role-play, I think Chuubo’s is a great way to prompt interactions in a play-by-post setting, and character advancement is both a compelling reason for folks to participate and an engine that feeds the storytelling machine.

The rulebook for this game can be a bit of a big read, but there’s a starter adventure included, with pre-built characters to help you get going.

Kids on Brooms and Teens in Space, by Hunters Entertainment.

Kids on Brooms is a collaborative role-playing game about taking on the life of a witch or wizard at a magical school you all attend that uses the “Powered by Kids on Bikes” system, first used in the award winning Kids on Bikes. Kids on Brooms is a rules-light storytelling system that takes you on magical adventures.

Teens in Space is a space opera RPG that uses the “Powered by Kids on Bikes” system. Teens in Space is a rules-light storytelling system that takes you into the cosmos for adventure and profit.

Both of these games use the teen-horror inspired game Kids on Bikes. Since these games rely heavily on polyhedral dice, I think setting up a discord server that also has a dice bot is the way to go with this one. You can choose a character from archetypes provided in the books, or create your own piece-by-piece. Different locations could be represented by different Discord channels, and since these games seem to work really well in regards to mysteries, I think a GM could focus on putting clues in different locations for characters to find, allowing the characters to slowly piece together a mystery over time.

I think Kids on Bikes is a kind of game that is going to require a lot more work to replicate as a play-by-post game than some of the other games on this list, because characters will need to roll dice in order to get things done, and it's best used in a small group. However, one thing I think really works well for these systems is the relationship questions that you roll on to determine how your characters relate to each-other. It gives you a connection right from the get go, and it can give the players something to work with while they're finding their feet.

Belonging Outside Belonging Games.

As a rule, Belonging Outside Belonging games don’t require dice, and as a common feature, BoB games don’t usually require GMs either. Characters are typically organized into playbooks; tropes or classes or collections of abilities that both define characters and make it easier for new players to find their rhythm. These playbooks will come with three categories of abilities: things that you can always do, things that require a token to activate, and things that reward you with a token when you do them. These games also usually include the setting itself as a playbook, or a divided series of responsibilities handed out to each player.

I can imagine a play-by-post form of game moving between descriptive scenes and active scenes, with players alternating between introducing elements of the setting / narrative obstacles; and describing how their characters react to these new events. (I've also seen this kind of thing happen on a Wanderhome server.)

Some Belonging Outside Belonging games that sound interesting to me are Lunar Echoes (a solar punk hack of Wanderhome), Geese at the Beach (chaotic water fowl looking for shines), and Capitalites (urban Asian young people trying to figure out who they are).

I hope you found this useful!

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #play by post

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voidlightcomix · 3 months

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Feast Your Eyes: Fandom Cookbook Recipe Review #3

Pizza, Pizza, Where’s My Pizza?! - The Official Five Nights At Freddy’s Cookbook

Tonight's menu: sourced from the Official Five Nights at Freddy’s Cookbook

Main Dish: Funtime Foxy’s 3-Cheese Veggie Surprise, pg 18

Side Dish: Garlicky Pizza Twirls with Spicy Dip, pg 20

BONUS REVIEW 1: Pizzaplex Master Dough, pg 13

BONUS REVIEW 2: Easyplex Pizza Sauce, pg 14

Full review under the cut!

Aurum Leuci’s Log:

[Begin recording.] Hello? Hello, hello? Is this thing on? Okay. That was a close one. Your machine is totally broken, man. This time I ended up in a mall… arcade… thing. With an actual kitchen. I unfortunately didn’t get the opportunity to try and fix the portal generator, because there are GIANT SCARY ROBOTS that for some reason want pizza. I MADE pizza. I don’t know how they’re eating it. But they sure are.

Look, I know you’re getting these transmissions, it wouldn’t let me record more if you weren’t, but I’m not getting anything back from you. I need instructions, or a plan, or something. ANYTHING to make sure I’m not jumping aimlessly across spacetime until I inevitably get eaten by something or other. Please. I want to bring my findings home… At least this pizza is pretty good for a weird robot-infested mall. Aurum Leuci out. [End log.]

Please see this post for my full review scale!

Main Dish: Funtime Foxy’s 3-Cheese Veggie Surprise

RATING:

Difficulty: 5/5

Ingredients: 5/5

Immersion: 3/5

Time: 5/5

End Result: 5/5

TOTAL RATING: 23/25

This pizza… was incredible. Aside from the sauce (see the bonus reviews for that), it was easy, it was delicious, and it gets bonus points for being somewhat easy to make plant based. For full disclosure, I didn’t use the Taleggio cheese (and also forgot to add parsley, but who cares about parsley?) and substituted in Miyoko’s plant-based Mozzarella spread instead— so ours was kind of a two-cheese veggie surprise (parmesan and mozz) but it was incredible. I would never have thought to put zucchini on a pizza, but it definitely impressed me. The only reason this pizza loses points is that I don’t think Fazbear Entertainment would serve something this high-quality!

Side Dish: Garlicky Pizza Twirls with Spicy Dip

RATING:

Difficulty: 5/5

Ingredients: 5/5

Immersion: 5/5

Time: 5/5

End Result: 4/5

TOTAL RATING: 24/25

I’ve been looking forward to tackling this recipe since I got this book as a gift. And it DELIVERED! Like the main dish, I also forgot the parsley on this one (silly me, completely forgetting the existence of parsley) but I really don’t think it would have added anything. These twirls, complete with fresh ingredients and a homemade spicy sauce (using the easyplex sauce as a base) absolutely feel like a delicious arcade snack. My only complaint (and this may have been something that I did wrong) is that I don’t think this recipe really makes 10 pizza twirls. The two on either end of the dough log came out completely devoid of cheese or sauce— still delicious, but not a pizza twirl. Just a bread twirl.

BONUS REVIEWS: Pizzaplex Master Dough, Easyplex Pizza Sauce

Pizzaplex Master Dough:

RATING:

Difficulty: 3/5

Ingredients: 5/5

Immersion: 3/5

Time: 5/5

End Result: 5/5

TOTAL RATING: 21/25

This recipe, despite not getting a perfect score, came out pretty great. I don’t have any real notes on it, just that I don’t think Fazbear Entertainment would make their dough fresh in-house, and also that yeast is really hard to work with. If you’re ever using yeast for anything, just… please look up instructions on the internet. Your cookbook cannot help you. (Same with proofing your yeast. Look it up. King Arthur Flour has a really good walkthrough.) In terms of at-home cooking, though, this recipe was relatively simple, and really, really delicious. And it makes enough for 4 pizzas (or 3 pizzas and a delicious batch of pizza twirls.)

Easyplex Pizza Sauce:

RATING:

Difficulty: 1/5

Ingredients: 5/5

Immersion: 1/5

Time: 2/5

End Result: 5/5

TOTAL RATING: 14/25

OH MY GODS, this sauce. Okay. Okay, so. It’s really good, it tasted great and was versatile (I used it in the pizza twirls, the main pizza, and the sauce for the pizza twirls) but, like… The only step is “mash canned tomatoes through a sieve with a spoon and mix in the tomato paste and spices! See how simple!” and IT IS NOT SIMPLE. YOU WILL MASH THE TOMATOES FOR AN HOUR. Your hands will hurt. You will regret your life choices. Your sieve will take as long to clean as the tomatoes took to mash. You could have just bought and seasoned pre-mashed tomato sauce. It was right next to the can of tomatoes you bought. Freddy Fazbear Entertainment is not making their restaurant staff MASH TOMATOES.

The sauce was good, but once I run out of the other half of this batch of it (probably this weekend, since I’m making another pizza) I’m just going to buy canned tomato sauce and season it the same way. I’m not that much of a gourmet.

Tune in on Friday (6/14/24) for another fandom cookbook review!

#voidlightcomix #fnaf #fnaf cookbook #fnaf pizzaplex #five nights at freddy's #food #foodpics #healthy food #food photography #funtime foxy #fazbear entertainment #fnaf fanart #official fnaf cookbook #pizzaplex #pizza #glamrock chica

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starillusion13 · 10 days

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FRIENDS!? Chapter 17

🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳

Series ML

Pairing: poly!ateez × f!reader (An ATEEZ Office AU)

Genre: Mature, Angst, Yandere

Warning: mention of memories (nothing much just go with the flow).

W.C: 4k Network: @k-vanity

[Reblogs and Reviews are always appreciated. Thank you for reading and have a nice day ahead. Please always take care of yourself everyone.]

Hello, Can we be friends please?

>.<

The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the small town as a girl skipped along the sidewalk. your hairs bounced with every step, and your favorite pink dress fluttered in the summer breeze. you had just come from the park, where you had spent the morning reading your favorite book and collecting wildflowers. Clutched in your delicate hand was a daisy chain you had carefully crafted, each flower threaded together with love and care.

Your day was filled with joy. you stopped by the ice cream truck, exchanging a few coins for a scoop of strawberry ice cream that dripped down your fingers as you licked it happily. you watched as a butterfly flitted by, its wings a blur of color, and tried to follow it with your eyes until it disappeared into the sky.

As the afternoon wore on, you found yourself wandering towards your favorite place — Mrs. Kang's cafe. It was quiet now, with the lunch time to be over a few minutes earlier and your wanderings almost finished for the day and most of the students already on their way home. Curious and full of energy, you decided to explore a little. you spotted an open door that led to a staircase and, on a whim, began to climb. Up and up you went, your small feet pattering against the steps until you reached the top.

The door to the rooftop was slightly ajar, and with a gentle push, you stepped outside. The view took your breath away—the whole town spread out before you, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. The breeze was cooler up here, ruffling your hair and bringing the scent of fresh air.

But you weren't alone. As you wondered further into the rooftop, you noticed three boys sitting near the edge, their legs dangling over the side. They were deep in conversation, laughing and joking with each other, unaware of your presence at first.

you hesitated, clutching your hand bag tightly. you didn't want to disturb them, but you were also curious. Gathering your courage, you stepped closer, your small footsteps making soft sounds against the concrete. One of the boys, the one with messy brown hair that fell into his eyes, noticed you first. He nudged the others, and they all turned to look at you, surprise flickering across their faces.

"Hi," you said shyly, your voice barely above a whisper.

The boy with the bright smile was the first to respond. "Hey there," he greeted warmly, his eyes twinkling. "What brings you up here?"

"I was just exploring," you explained, holding up the bag. "I brought Mrs. Kang some cookies from my orphanage."

The boy with round glasses adjusted them slightly and smiled. "Then what are you doing here? She must not be at the rooftop, waiting for someone to show up with her orphanage cookies." It was evident that he was not liking your presence right there.

you nodded eagerly, your initial nervousness coming back. "It's just I couldn't find her downstairs. And, I thought maybe this is the place where I can get her."

The third boy, who had been watching you with a curious expression, finally spoke up. "That's cool. What's your name?"

"y/n," you replied, gaining a bit more confidence. "What are your names?" you asked hesitatingly, not sure if they are even willing to extend the conversation – let aside, giving away their names to someone on whom one has a distaste already. But the other two boys were having glows and charms on their face on meeting you.

The boys exchanged glances, then the one with the bright smile spoke again. "I'm Yeosang," he said, gesturing to himself. "This is San," he pointed to the boy with the glasses, "and that's Wooyoung," he finished, nodding toward the boy with the messy hair.

you repeated their names softly to yourself, then smiled. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, y/n," Wooyoung said, returning her smile. "Do you come here often?"

you nodded your head. "yes, this is like my second home. It's really nice up here." You smile to yourself, "I like to spend my time here with her, sometimes before returning back home."

"you mean orphanage." San scoffed and you glanced at his attitude. He was rude for no reason. Whatever, the other two were too nice and it was okay to avoid the third one. You averted your eyes from him to the other two grinning ones.

"I have never seen you before," Yeosang said with a grin. "We come here after school sometimes to talk. Also, this is my aunt's shop." The surprise in your eyes was not missed by them and they chuckled at your adorable reaction.

"Do you want to sit with us?" Wooyoung offered, patting the space beside him.

you hesitated for a moment, then nodded. you carefully walked over and sat down next to them, your legs swinging freely above the ground. you placed your things on your other side, their smiles seems like a symbol of your newfound friendship.

As the evening breeze picked up, the three of you chatted and laughed, San was just sitting quietly in the distance and often glancing at you all. No one knows what was going on in his mind but one thing was sure that he was not liking your presence in their peaceful circle. you telling them about your day and the boys sharing stories of their own. The rooftop, usually a quiet retreat, was now filled with the sound of your voices and laughter.

When it was time for you to leave, you stood up, your heart full of happiness. "Can I come back tomorrow?" you asked hopefully. The next days were weekends and the orphanage gives you more time than other days to spend your days in a bit relaxing way. It's only possible because you are in middle school now.

"Of course," Wooyoung replied with a smile. "We'll be here." Yeosang nodded at his friend's words but the third was not having it for good. He scoffed, "we are supposed to meet them tomorrow."

"it's okay. We can go later." Yeosang told him and turned towards him, his lips automatically curling up to a sweet angelic smile.

Wooyoung clasped his hands in excitement, "we got a new friend. We gotta tell them too."

San rolled his eyes and stared at you when you exchanged some sweet words and smiles with them. He hated your entire existence at this point. There is no need for any more friends when they have each other --- a girl as a friend --- a big NO.

"So friends?" Wooyoung extended his hand towards you, a bright smile plastered on his face. You quickly held his hand, a comforting hold, an innocent promise was made, "friends." you said in your softest and friendly tone.

"forever?" Yeosang placed a hand on your shoulder, mirroring the same expression as yours. You nodded and smiled wider, "forever."

San stood up, getting a proper look of his outfit, he slid the bag over his shoulder. He glanced at you and then to his friends, "we should go back home. It's getting late."

"will you not be her friend?" Wooyoung asked him.

San poked his inner cheek with his tongue, "no. it's nonsense."

"but you are still my friend." You told him innocently.

He glared at you before turning his back at you, "whatever."

you waved goodbye and skipped toward the door, your spirit lifted by the unexpected encounter. As you made your way down the stairs, the warmth of the sunset still on your cheeks, you knew you had made three special friends that day—friends you couldn't wait to see again. Well, safe to say two.

The friendship started when you were thirteen years old. You were like an innocent flower blooming in between the two boys, Wooyoung and Yeosang. You all still laugh at your interaction with Wooyoung at the café after your first meeting with them at the rooftop. Two weeks later, you were returning from school, when you wanted to give a visit to the café but Mrs. Kang was not there so you were just standing in front of the glass display section with all the collections of display. The thing, you didn't notice that your presence was noticed by the three boys sitting and conversing in the corner of the place. The youngest one of them happily approached you but somehow, his different look with the different hairstyle was making him unrecognizable. He got the idea that you wanted to buy one from there and when you pointed to the choco red-velvet cupcake, he was more than happy to buy it for you. But weirdly, you ran too fast from there, before Yeosang could approach you two.

Surprisingly, the next day, you went to that same café and it was late afternoon. You knew they would be there because that was the time they usually return from their school. And, you were not alone, Mr. Kim was there along with you and he was buying you a few things for your upcoming birthday. Your orphanage celebrates every individual's birthday. And, you bought a special gift for Wooyoung, not missing the other two in mind.

You met the three boys in the streets, going towards the café and your innocent-self ran towards them with the paper bag in your hold, handing them their gifts and thanking Wooyoung for the treat.

It was really a pure and sweet friendship. A childhood friendship deepening and tightening with every passing day.

It's the last year of your middle school and your friendship with the guys was more than a year. Before the finals, you heard that they were going to change their schools and initially you were so heartbroken that your friends would be leaving the town but surprisingly they were happy for some reasons and you didn't know a single thing about their thoughts.

So in the last days of your last year of middle school, whenever you went to school, you avoided them after the departure. As usual they used to wait for you on the bench beside the cafe but you ran past them in a hurry.

"Hey, wait!" A young boy yelled and your feet immediately came to a halt. He was panting and sweats dripping down his forehead. When you saw his face, you felt him familiar. Not like you know each other, you have seen him. The ground beside your orphanage where he plays basketball with his friends, the other boys live in your neighborhood but you don't know where he lives. You don't mind them playing there, neither you were attracted to anyone or wanted to get along but you loved this particular boy, more specifically his smile.

It was a healing one, a comforting and sweet one. The gummy smile which was not visible on any other boy's face over there. And the same way he was smiling at you at the moment.

"You?" You asked him curiously, what to ask him more. Neither you know his name, about him or what's the person stopping you for. He was in a different school uniform than yours and upon realizing it's the same as Wooyoung.

He patted your shoulder and chuckled, "myself, Jongho. You are y/n, right?"

You nodded slowly, still confused with his approach. He even knows your name.

"Here, take this." He hands you over a paper bag. Without further thought, you grabbed it and looked at him again. "Woo and Yeo told me to give it to you. I suppose you are their friend whom they talk about a lot. Nice to meet you."

Ah! So he is their friend. Your guess was right somehow. As you are ignoring them because they might be leaving this town soon and you don't want to get attached to them anymore to feel lonely after their departure.

"What is this?" You asked him, he was smiling all the way at you. You didn't even know why he was still waiting there after giving you the bag, he nodded and chuckled at you.

"That's for you to find out." He tilted his head to the side and raised a brow, "I heard you are ignoring my friends for some reason but I hope this gift will help your day."

"Why?"

"Just go back home and find out."

Staring at each other for a while, you turned around but as you were about to cross the road, he asked you again.

"Do you want to come to watch my match?" He asked you hopefully, excitement in his eyes. When you looked at him, he spoke again, "today your finals ended so a bit of fun won't harm, right?"

Right. You so want to watch his smile. Like the way he is grinning at you now. You smiled back in return.

"So, you coming?"

"I guess the usual timing?" you asked.

He nodded and ran away. You chuckled and crossed the road. Your days are filled with joy and happiness.

The last thing you would expect to be met with a letter, a cupcake and a pretty dress inside the paper bag. After freshening up quickly, you glanced at the clock, you have enough time till his evening match and now you got on your bed, shuffling towards the headboard and leaned against it, to read what's the content of the letter.

'Hey! Are you mad at me? I'm so sorry to make you feel so low. Actually, it was supposed to be a surprise but after seeing you so down everyday and avoiding us made me realize that I should let you know this. I am definitely leaving my previous school but I'm not leaving the town, promise. Don't be mad at me. there's a surprise you will get on the first day of your high school so please wait for it and don't be sad.' --- your Woo.

Your gaze trailing down to the last line written below...

'The dress is from me --- Yeosang. I saw Wooyoung bought a cake for you and I didn't know what to give you but I hope you liked it.'

There's a cute little character drawn beside the writing.

Your smile grew wider and you laid on the bed, smiling and feeling excited with the gifts and also, they are not leaving you alone in this town.

You didn't know when you feel asleep on your bed, clutching the letter in your fist and the paper-bag lying on the floor beside the bed until Mrs. Stella came knocking at your door, groaning at the sound, you rubbed your eyes and glanced at the clock, it was already late for you. Fifteen minutes to go.

"Y/n baby." The lady's soft voice made your head turn towards the door when you jumped out from the blanket and ran towards it, to reveal her standing there all in an elegant dress as always. Her warm smile and welcoming gestures pulled you in a hug.

"Why did you lock your door? I got so scared."

You nodded your head in understanding and pulled apart to give her a smile, "I'm sorry. I won't do it again. But I have to leave right now or I will be late."

"to watch the match?" she asked you softly before pulling apart, watching you pulling out a dress from the wardrobe and placing it on the bed, also setting the favorite pair of shoes at the side of the doorframe.

You smiled and nodded, "yes. He is probably my new friend."

"He will be your best-friend because you are such a sweet girl. I will pack some cookies for him." she said and sat on the chair when you went inside the washroom to change into your outfit. After coming back to the room, she helped you to tie your hair and left you alone in the room to pack the snacks.

It was a quick action and there you were standing at the main gate, your Mrs. Stella placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "you haven't introduced me to your other three friends and now this fourth one. Invite them over a picnic, I want to see those nice boys who befriended the sweet girl like you."

"I will. But later, now we should be just secret friends."

"why? Are you in love with one of them?" she wiggled her brows.

You whined loudly, stomping your feet, "what...nooooo. I just don't want them to know exactly where I live."

"It's okay. Be safe."

The playground is surrounded by protective fences so that intruders can't go inside whenever and from wherever they want and so they have to take either of the two entrance gates. The street by the side of the ground, where people often glancing at the boys screaming at each other just for the sake of the games. Their sweaty bodies and faint curses whenever they were losing points, especially everything was attractive in that zone.

Just like that, you were standing at Gate 1, where most of the people can enter to watch the matches and the security can keep track of the people entering the ground.

"y/n!"

The sudden voice made you look towards the direction from where a young boy ran towards you, all the way smiling and sweating. The corner of your lips lifted up and he stopped in front of you. His fingers quickly wrapped around your wrist and pulled you towards the benches where you could sit and there were already four boys sitting gossiping among them. You couldn't see their faces because they were facing their back towards you but their laugh echoed in your ears. Two voices were familiar.

"you kept your promise, y/n. thanks for coming." Jongho finally let your hand go when you were almost near the benches. You smiled and nodded your head, handing him the paper bag packed with cookies. "What's this?"

"a gift." You chuckled and added, "I am not one to turn down someone. You were expecting me so I had to come. Moreover, I love watching people enjoying their favorite thing."

"You love watching me?" he raised his brow.

Your palm pressed over your lips, laughing lightly, "no silly. I love watching you play basketball."

And again. His gummy smile shining brighter than the lights of the posts.

"y/n?"

Turning around quickly, you came face to face with the boy whom you missed all these days. Wooyoung stood up from the bench and ran towards you, engulfing you in a tight hug. To your surprise, he planted a kiss on top of your head and you didn't even complain about it, rather you closed your eyes and melted in his arms, feeling protected and loved.

"so, this was your surprise, Jongho?" Yeosang asked and folded his arms below his chest. Quickly smiling when he caught your eyes at him. The youngest nodded and caught the ball which was thrown by his other friend. Your gaze quickly fell on the new tall boy, he looked so squishy and soft and there was another tall boy whose arms were drooped over him with piercing eyes and they both were watching you keenly. They were curious and it was all visible on their features, neither of them was smiling but looked as if they had so many questions.

"Who is she?" asked the boy with round eyes, who removed the arm around him and glared at the other boy who was trying to tickle him. "never seen her before." The boy was wearing a white t-shirt like Jongho was wearing a black one unlike others who were in denim and stylish clothes.

Jongho stood beside you, smiling at them before sending you a comforting smile and you did the same to them, "she is our new friend. Her name is y/n." he turned towards you, "that's Yunho and the other one is Mingi."

y/n.

the name clicked inside their mind. You can't be the one they are thinking of. Right?

"you mean..."

Wooyoung laughed loudly, "yes, Yunho. she is our y/n."

"well..." now you finally started speaking, "nice to meet you two. Don't be awkward with me. I'm just your friend so let's settle down to watch the match."

"Yunho is also playing today." Mingi said and smiled when he watched you turn to his friend in surprise.

"you are our best-friend, y/n." Yeosang always corrects you with this word. You nodded and took a seat on the bench near you, the five boys were all following your movements as you brushed your dress and neatly placed the bag beside you and combed your ponytail with just fingers. You were like an angel under the post-light. None of their eyes were leaving your form. They were getting lured by you.

It's only because you were the pure, the only light in the darkness of their life.

They were drawn like a moth to a flame.

Your gaze stopped on them, "all the best Jongho and Yunho."

It would be a lie if your cheering voice didn't skip their heartbeat.

The two players gave exciting nods before running towards their field. The three left with you settled down around you, not speaking anything just watching you enjoying the match. You didn't know anything about basketball, just that the team has to score points by putting the ball into the net and preventing their opponents from interrupting them. That didn't matter the fact that you were enjoying watching your friends winning the game.

And, the real win was for three others who were just ignoring their two friends and watching your giggles, laughs, cheers, and excitedly standing up whenever one of them scored points. Once when you turned towards them, you caught them staring at you but you thought it was because you were jumping on your feet like a kid, "I so want to come here often."

"Then you can come here every Wednesday and Friday." Mingi answered you quickly.

You nodded and pressed your lips in a line, "I can't. the orphanage and Mr. Kim won't like me going out so much."

You didn't get anything in reply. The attention went back to the match.

But little did you know the three boys around you shared looks among them. Innocent? Sad? Sympathy? Worry?

Nah. It's far from that.

The hatred.

They hated the fact that you can't come anywhere anytime.

Even if you think they don't know you, they are just your new friends you made by chance. You are so wrong for that because you are just falling into every trap that they are laying for you and without doubting, you are following them with a smile on your face.

"How was the match?" Wooyoung poked your cheek from beside you.

"It's good. I didn't know I would enjoy it so much." you looked towards the two players coming towards you, "Congratulations for winning. But I have to go now or it will be late."

Yunho held your wrist, "can't you stay a little bit more?"

"I wish I could but I'm not allowed to stay longer." You smiled at the end of your reply.

Yunho just nodded in agreement and dabbed his face on the towel. You picked up the paperbag from the bench and extended your hand towards Jongho who came closer to you after wiping off the sweat from his face.

"Take this. I brought this as a friendly gesture for you and thought maybe one or two of your friends would be here but I guess it would be too less for all of you."

He chuckled and shook his head, "hey! Don't worry about that. It's enough that you brought a gift. Let's just be friends and we can treat ourselves to much more. And thank you so much for this."

"Yes. If only you all had been in my school, we could have hung out together every day." You folded your hands under your chest.

"We can." Yeosang brought your attention to him, "we will wait for you in front of the cafe and then we can spend time there. That's the best place for us because it's even closer to your place."

"You all will wait?" Your eyes lit up with surprise.

Mingi smiled at your cute face, "of course. After all we are friends, right?"

"We are best friends."

[the next two chapter are ready to post but i'm not feeling like to post right now please tomorrow i'll make sure to post it as the first thing in the morning.]

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