#i don’t remember what it’s like to be okay

[prentisssbxtch]

An experience.

summary: the woman you slept with the night before, ends up being your boss.

relationship: wanda x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, hits to smut, lil make out, uhh i think that’s it? bad writing <3

this is my first time writing a fanfic so… bear with me

also not proofread !!

part 2?

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

waking up confused and disoriented, i looked around my surroundings to see i was in my living room… naked.

i turned to see a naked woman’s back facing me as she lied passed out. i could see she had gorgeous red hair; which was going in every direction possible.

the color of her hair suddenly brought back memories or the night before:

the two of us stumbled through my apartment door before my back was pressed up against it. wanda’s lips never left mine as she gripped my waist, which definitely left bruises.

as her lips moved down towards my neck, i let out a soft moan, gripping her hair tightly between my fingers.

i let out a soft whimper as she nipped my neck. i could feel her lips turn up into a grin before i pulled her head back up to kiss me.

i suddenly snapped back to the present when i noticed the woman on my floor moving. wanda is her name, if i remember correctly.

i quickly pulled the blanket off her body to cover my own. i threw a pillow down to cover her ass, giving her at least some decency.

i wrapped the blanket around my body before standing as wanda began to full awaken.

i moved to stand behind my couch as i watch wanda wake up. she turned her head towards me after a moment of silence.

she has gorgeous eyes

“hey, um i have to be somewhere really soon, so if you wouldn’t mind, uh, leaving… that’d be great,” i said awkwardly, trying to avoid small talk.

“what don’t wanna go for round two?” was her only response, with the most cockiest smirk i’d ever seen.

i felt my eyes widen before quickly recovering, “as great as that sounds, i have somewhere to be. so i’m gonna go to my bathroom and take a shower, and when i come back, you’re going to be gone. okay?” i said as i slowly started backing away towards the bathroom.

she gave a small sigh before standing, completely nude. i quickly turned to give her privacy after being caught off guard.

“uh it was great meeting you…” i paused not wanting to get her name wrong.

“wanda” she said, filling in the blank, while she picked up her belongings.

“wanda,” i said repeating after her as i slowly turned to look back at her. “well, bye.”

was my final response as i turned to leave to the bathroom, again.

——

after my… eventful morning, i quickly rushed through my shower before putting on work appropriate clothes.

i was starting an internship at a law firm here in new york. it was one of the biggest companies in the city, Maximoff Industries.

the fancy name already had my scared, but the fact of a whole new building, which could make or break my career… i felt as if i could throw up at any moment.

i was luckily able to grab a taxi, before having a small panic attack in the car. i put my headphones in, turning on music to hopefully calm my nerves.

it didn’t.

as the taxi pulled up outside the building, i felt as if i was shitting bricks.

i turned to pay the driver before quickly exiting the car.

i slowly walked towards the building, trying to even my breathing as i neared the main entrance.

the second i walked through the door, i was greeted by marble floors with a gorgeous chandelier.

i walked to the front dest asking where to go. she told me all the interns were to go to the 5th floor, where we would meet Ms. Maximoff, the owner of the building.

i nodded my head before saying a quiet thank you. i moved towards the elevator, quickly pressing the button calling it to my floor.

once the doors opened i stepped in, pressing the button for the fifth floor before leaning against the back wall.

suddenly i began to realize i had no idea what any of the maximoffs looked like. they had a very house hold name, everyone knew of who they are. i thought of googling the name before realizing it was pretty pointless. i would be seeing her in person in just a few minutes.

as the elevator dinged, alerting me of my arrival to the fifth floor, i felt my anxiety suddenly jump even higher than before.

which i didn’t think was possible, but clearly it was.

i stepped out as i politely smiled at the people getting in. i saw another front desk for the floor, quickly making my way towards the woman sitting there. she quickly directed me towards a room off to the left, which already had several people sitting around it. i gave a small thank you before walking to the area.

i looked for an open seat before quickly sitting. as time passed more people began to walk into the room. once the clock on the wall turned to 2:30, two people walked into the room.

the first, a tall man with blond hair, slightly blocking the person behind them.

the person being him stepped to stand beside him, i cast a glance to the woman who stepped out. only for my jaw to drop once i realized who it was.

the woman from this morning. wanda.

the man cleared her throat, regaining my attention, “this will be the internship that could potentially make or break your future. you have all been picked on how well you did in school. do not think because you are here, you’re safe of future problems. we will not hesitate to let you go, if we see fit.”

i turned my attention back to the woman standing next to the man, seeing her already looking at me. i could tell from her expression, she too was surprised by my presence. within a blink, she looked completely neutral.

this was definitely going to be an experience.

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

thank you for reading����🏻

if you want a part two lemme know!!

[fleuryuns]

presenting a fic by @FLEURYUNS

you're still a virgin?

IN WHICH heeseung realizes you're still a virgin after swearing you'd get with someone from the start of the year, so he offers to help solve this problem

PAIRING ⟡ bsf!heeseung x virgin!femreader

UNIVERSE ⨯ non-idol au

WARNINGS ⟡ mdni, smut, porn with a smidge of plot for context, not proofread cuz who needs that, fingering, orgasm denial (briefly), missionary, very vanilla sex, heeseung's kinda awkward #pathetic_men

WORD COUNT ⨯ 3.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . first smut fic on this acc... minors avert your eyes

“We never finished sharing our new year’s resolutions.”

You stop mid-bite into your pancakes. You and Heeseung had spent all morning making them, finally testing out the new oven you got after the last one broke down during another pancake morning. It survived, luckily. There’s only the taste-test left, but Heeseung’s comment catches you so off guard, you put the fork back down.

“New year’s resolutions?” you repeat. “You mean the ones from basically last year?”

He nods, shoving his first bite in. He hums at the taste. Success. “Yeah, we made those lists and started sharing but then—” Heeseung tilts and quirks his brow in thought. “—I can’t even remember. We probably got distracted, but either way, we never made sure we both completed our lists.”

Chuckling awkwardly, you keep your eyes on the plate. “I don’t even know if I still have mine—”

“I do,” Heeseung interrupts. “We put them in that box, remember? I found it this morning, that’s why I thought to bring them up, ha.”

“You didn’t, er, read them, did you?”

Heeseung shakes his head, chewing through another bite. “I thought it’d be fun to go through them and see what we’ve done or not.” He lightly taps his fork around his plate. “We’ve got a few days before the new year starts, no plans, I don’t know…”

“No, no, yeah, I get it,” you assure, nodding quickly. “I just, um, they were stupid. I was stupid. This year changed me, you know?”

Your roommate looks at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “Oh yeah?” He watches you nod again. “All the more reason to get them.” And before you know it, he’s rushing to his room to, you assume, get the box he’d mentioned earlier.

It’s not long before he’s practically skipping back into the kitchen-dining area bringing the box. Tossing his plate aside, he sets the box in between you two and sits back down. You’re anxious at how he unfolds the lid and pulls out two sheets of crumpled paper.

“Yours was the one with the rip at the top,” you say, reading the questions in his mind. Your face flushes as you realize that’ll only prompt him to take it out the other first.

He smiles at you before hiding his face behind the paper. He begins to read it out loud. “Resolution one: Learn how to make (good) pancakes—” Grabbing his fork, he clinks it twice against the porcelain. “Check. Number two: Make weekly savings—Check, right?”

You hum, your leg shaking beneath the table.

“Alright, and then—” He lowers the paper. Your eyes widen. “Lose my virginity?”

“Okay!” you say overenthusiastically. “See! I was being stupid, such a dumb thing to write on a new year’s resolution list, right? Haha, so funny, let’s just throw these out—”

“Wait, but we can cross this off, though, right? You had that boyfriend?”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” you clarify. “He was… gross. I never really liked him like that, so it just never happened. It’s whatever, I’m a virgin, okay, let’s move on. Isn’t the next thing I put down like eat more salads—”

“You’re still a virgin?”

You look at him bewildered. What was up with the intonation? Was it really shocking? Why does he even care? You suppose he’s always been the nosy type, just never assumed it would translate to this, as well.

He seems to realize the second meaning to his words and fumbles to take them back. “Okay, not like—I didn't mean it in a weird way, I’m just surprised that you’re... you know?”

“It’s… whatever,” you clarify. “It’s fine. It’ll happen at the right moment, right? That’s what they all say.��� You'd shovel another bite into your mouth and you can’t help but taste the bitterness from your words with the sweetness of the syrup. “I’ll get over it when it’s done and gone.”

Heeseung clears his throat, paper discarded to the side, his eyes fixed on your plate in deep thought. “Do you…”

You raise a brow.

“Do you want my help?”

In your defense, you really hate being a virgin. Not that it’s embarrassing or shameful to be one, but the fact that you swore to yourself that you wouldn't be a virgin anymore since last year makes you want to crumble up inside.

You just don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of your past self. Imagine her laughing at you? That’s a new low.

Which leads to this moment right now. Laying in Heeseung’s bed, in Heeseung’s room, waiting for Heeseung to come back into said room with the “supplies” he was rushing out to get.

The door slowly swings open as Heeseung pushes it with his back, his hands full. He makes eye contact with you and a pout makes its way across his lips. “You’re still wearing your clothes?”

Your eyes snap open wider. “Yes?!”

“We’re gonna have sex, Y/N, your clothes aren’t supposed to be on.” He smiles at you as he sets down lube and condoms.

A wave of relief washes over you when you realize he’s just teasing. Heeseung’s a gentleman, but it’s not like you've gotten the chance to know the side of him you two swore to never let you meet. He could’ve been a weirdo creep for all you knew, as long as he was paying his half of the rent it never mattered until right now.

“Do you want me to turn around when you take them off?” Yep, just the same old awkwardly sweet Heeseung you’ve always known.

You smile, albeit nervously. “You’ll see me naked anyway, might as well put on a strip performance to get you in the mood.”

He laughs at your sarcasm, then points to the lights. “We could turn those off if you want.”

For a moment, you consider it. If not for the hopes of Heeseung seeing the least possible,  but for the ambiance. Do people leave the lights on or off during sex? Not like you know. Ultimately, you shake your head, getting off from the bed and sticking your hands under the hem of your shirt. “Ready?” you ask him, though the question is more internalized.

His hum is muffled by his hands reaching at the collar of his shirt.

At once, you two pull your shirts off together.

Standing bare chest to bare chest - with bra - you eye him carefully. “You take your shirt off from the top?”

“What?”

You mirrored his previous action. “You took your collar and pulled your head through the neck hole first—” your words muffle as you reenact it sloppily. “Normal people take their arms out first.”

Heeseung stifles a laugh behind his hand. “Aren’t you supposed to try to seduce me?”

“Is this not sexy?”

“Oh, please, go on, you’re making me hard.”

The two of you laugh and you realize you’re not so nervous anymore. The anxious jitters left your hands and you can feel your muscles relaxing. It’s just Heeseung. Just Heeseung.

As he recovers from a fit of laughter, you look at him in a way you haven’t taken the chance to ever since you met almost two years ago. His arms that flex when he wraps them around himself. His smile which switches to a sly smirk when he’s resisting the urge to laugh louder. His hair that falls neatly into place, over his eyes that glint to the point you can’t take your gaze away from them.

Heat rushes to your cheeks.

He’s attractive. Yeah, that’s been obvious.

Your type? Maybe…

But this is different. And, oh god, he’s going to have sex with you.

Heeseung clears his throat, snapping you out of your daze.

“Pants?” he asks cautiously. His eyes are brimmed with concern, probably sensing your confused thoughts, clearly not understanding what you’re telling yourself.

You respond by tugging at your sweatpant laces, letting them drop down dramatically. Heeseung keeps his eyes glued to your movement, eyes widening at the sight of your bare legs and white panties. He quickly reaches for his belt.

To your surprise, you can see that he’s, at the very least, getting hard. Maybe it’s nerves. You try not to think too much about the possible influence the sight of your almost-bare body has on him.

Still, to test the waters and ease or completely disrupt your mind, you ask, “Can you help me with my bra?”

He fumbles an answer, you’re pretty sure you hear a ‘yes’ through his blabs, as he kicks out of his pants fully and stumbles to your side of the bed. You turn your back to him, giving him the cue by raising your hair away from the clasp.

Shivers run down your spine at his gentle, warm touch on your skin. You never knew you were sensitive, but with every simple movement, every brush against your back has you feeling goosebumps running up your arms.

Heeseung’s breath is hollow behind you.

When the clasp is finally undone, you pull your arms out of the straps, letting the material drop to the floor with your other discarded clothes.

You turn to face Heeseung, his eyes saying more than any words could mean. Stunned, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whisper in return, eyes drifting down to his mouth.

He doesn't hesitate to lean in. His arms naturally slide around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as his lips hungrily crash into yours. You gasp through the initial shock of ferocity, relaxing into his hold with your hands coming up to the nape of his neck.

His fingers squeeze your skin pulling a sound from your mouth, muffled by his lips. You don’t even notice the way his knees push you back until you’re laying on the bed, lips still attached to Heeseung’s, but even those pull away eventually. You almost get up onto your elbows to chase after his touch, but stop yourself at the sight of his intense gaze.

Your gazes lock with each other for a moment, before he finally breaks contact to rush to the bedside cabinet where the lube bottle sits. He pours a generous amount on his fingers, rubbing the gel slowly. He eyes the way it reflects the light and this one reaction makes you think he’s never seen it before, but you doubt it — you’ve heard his sexual escapades thanks to your graciously thin walls.

“I’m going to finger you first,” Heeseung interrupts your thoughts.

You simply hum in return, letting your legs fall apart for him to get back into place, between them.

Heeseung has one hand on your thigh, the other levitates over your skin with nearly-dripping lube, but his eyes are on yours, waiting for another nod before he can continue.

Giving him the signal, you aren’t prepared for the chill that runs down your spine at the cold sensation of the lube on your sensitive skin. Soon enough, though, your gasps turn to gentle hums as Heeseung draws little circles on your bare pussy.

“This okay?”

You nod needily.

One finger finally intrudes, swimming through your walls and curls to find that certain spot. Your hips roll into it—you never thought it'd be this different from your own fingers.

“More,” you whimper.

“Already?” Heeseung teases, but you can hear partial genuinity in his tone.

Wordlessly, your hand reaches down to his, pulling at it to get another finger inside of you.

Heeseung chuckles in disbelief, but doesn't disobey your request.

Two fingers in and you’re letting soft gasps escape your lips, eyes already threatening to roll back at the rhythmic pattern Heeseung’s keeping up. He pushes in, pulls out, pushes back in and curls into you. You match his pace with your hips, hoping to deepen his touch. He’s so close, so close to where you need him.

Meanwhile, his thumb rolls gently over your clit to ease the tension of the stretch. It helps, making your head spin and forcing you to focus entirely on the pleasure you feel, rather than the pain.

Heeseung doesn't warn you when he slips in a third, but you’re busy throwing your head back, moaning to tell him off for it.

“Fuck,” you whisper to the ceiling. “‘Is so good.”

Your back arches as Heeseung’s fingers reach your G-spot, curling and tickling the bundle of nerves, ripping out more muffled moans, your hand thrown to your mouth not to disturb the neighbours.

“Right there!” you moan. “Right—shit, yes—Right there!” When he keeps at it, you can't hold on much longer. “Fuck, I’m so close—”

And then it’s gone.

All the pleasure is ripped away from you as Heeseung pulls out of you coldly, barely looking your way as he turns to the bedside cabinet.

“Hey,” you whine, albeit childishly.

It’s as if something clicks and he turns back to you. “Sorry,” he singsongs out. “I didn’t want you to come so soon, I still have to actually fuck you, right?”

You pout, but ultimately he’s right. That’s what you're here for. “Fine.”

He fumbles with the condom packet, eventually giving up on going at it with his lubed-fingers and rips the package with his teeth.

“I could’ve helped,” you tell him, smiling teasingly.

“I got it. I got it.” He waves his hand at you before he uses that same hand to roll down the condom and—Holy. Shit. He’s packing.

You never took the time to think about his size, though you probably would've determined it was a decent size from the outline of it when he's chilling on the couch with sweats on.

But now that it's out, hard and flush against his toned abs? You take a deep breath and try not to think too much about how it must taste, how it’d feel to have him down your throat—as if you even know how to give a proper blowjob. Maybe he could guide you, holding your head from the back and pushing it back and forth rhythmically up and down his cock and—

“Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you’re sure about this?”

He’s pumping his cock as he asks. You resist the urge to lick your lips.

“Yes,” you say. “I’m ready.” And there’s no lie in your words.

Heeseung crawls back onto the bed once more, staying on his knees when his body is lined up with yours. He nods to himself and you before lining up his dick with your entrance, one hand falling to the side of your head, the other resting on your lower stomach as he pushes in slowly.

The intrusion is unfamiliar. The stretch hurts more than expected. Yet, your mouth is agape in frozen pleasure — Heeseung let his hand fall lower and is now drawing circles on your clit to ease the tension.

He keeps his thumb on your pussy while slowing his movement to a stop. “Tell me when I can move.”

Instead of relaxing into the stretch, preparing yourself for more friction, you focus entirely on Heeseung’s movements on your clit. Rolling the bud of pleasure between his two fingers, your eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

You test the waters by flexing your core muscles, squeezing your walls against Heeseung’s cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, snapping his hips forward at once, but he quickly stops himself. Heeseung looks up at you with cutely worried wide eyes. “Shit, sorry—Are you okay?”

You giggle. “Go!” you say between laughs, rolling your hips down to get him going.

He doesn't need to be told twice. He quickly resumes his previous thrust, your legs are naturally pushed apart to give him more access—moans spill from your lips at the newfound depth he reaches.

Heeseung’s head dips, his hair falling over his face, but does nothing to hide his expressions. You watch him for a moment, reveling in how good your pussy is making him feel. You clench around him again and his mouth falls open. He lets out the most harmonious sound you never expected from him but want to hear again and again.

So, you roll your hips into his, until your lower stomachs are threatening to brush against each other, until Heeseung lowers from his hands to elbows, and your bodies are flushed against each other. Your skin is sticky with sweat, but you can’t be bothered. Not with his rhythmic thrusts reaching so deep inside of you. Not with his fingers still playing with your clit, torturing the bud with nonstop pleasure. Not with his lips so close to your mouth, and your head pulling itself upward to capture them in another kiss.

Your hands snake to the back of his head, curling into his messy hair and pulling gently to bring him closer to you. His free hand finds its way into your hair, too, pushing the flyaways back into the rest of the mess, away from your face, before it rests gently on your neck, guiding you in the kiss.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers into your mouth as your walls clench around him again.

Your head spins at his low tone, pleasure bubbling in your stomach in a way it never has before. “I’m—Shit—I’m so close!”

Heeseung takes this as a signal to speed up his fingers on your clit, and slows down his thrusts, deepening them with each push in.

“Come on, come for me.”

And you do.

So much, like never before.

Your back arches into him, head thrown back, letting out a sinful string of moans. You’d curse from the pleasure, but your thoughts aren't coherent enough to form words.

You’re frozen in place, legs shaking as Heeseung pulls out to finish himself off. He jerks off into the condom on top of your wasted body, coming undone as soon as your dazed eyes meet his hungry gaze.

He doubles over, landing on his hand, face mere inches away from yours. “Fuck,” he says.

“Fuck,” you repeat, a giggle in your tone.

“Congratulations,” he says, rolling onto his back to be laying beside you. “You’re no longer a virgin.”

Your weak arms raise in a small celebration. “Yay.”

“How was it?”

You can’t even respond, hands coming up to cover your flushed face. You can almost feel Heeseung’s smirk behind them.

“I’ll take that as good.” Then, after a beat. “Does that mean you'd want to do it again?”

Your hands fall flat to your sides in one quick movement. “What?”

“There’s so much more I can teach you.”

“No,” you say while shaking your head. He looks defeated, you almost want to reach up and pet him like a dog. “Not until you buy me dinner.”

[rubywithecat]

Jjk men when someone walk in while having sex

A/N: This contains mature content so, minors do not interact. Please note that this is just a fiction and if u find any discomfort with my ideas, feel free to skip. Thanks a lot for support and love ~<33

Gojo Satoru

- Ur on vacation with him at a fancy hotel. “Satoru not now” you giggled, trying to push him back. “I just ordered room service and the staff can arrive any minute soon”. He frowned, “Who cares? They are nobody” he didn’t stop and continue kissing your neck, unzipping your skirt. You kissed him back and the thought of someone might see you turns on you so much, tbh. You put your hands through his soft hair while he eats you out. You moaned when he gave you pleasure. As you were having a good time, you heard a noise and you both were shocked seeing a staff in with food. Gojo quickly covered you and furiously yelled at the staff. “Don’t you know how to fcking knock?! What kind of hotel is this for giving millions yen??” The staff was frightened and apologized. “I— I knocked several time and since nobody answered and the door wasn’t locked, I thought I was supposed to deliver inside… I’m so so sorry, sir”. “Just get out!” He shouted and when the door was closed, he sighed. “Didn’t expect that. Are you okay?” He checked up on you.

Toji Fushiguro

- You knelt down while he sat on his chair and give him blow job. “Do u like it?” U said, looking up with ur doe eyes. “I love it, princess” he moaned. Ur direction was opposite to the door so u couldn’t see even tho u heard smtg. “Don’t mind that keep on” he said, looking with extra smirk. When he finished, you stood up, fixing your clothes and hair and then looked back as you saw his colleague standing, awkwardly. You were so embarrassed and looked at Toji who is just grining and put on his belt. “You didn’t tell me!” You whispered. “You didn’t ask” he shrugged. “But I know we both don’t hate it, right?”. “Fck u, Fushiguro!” U replied as he answered, “Already looking forward to it” he said as he kissed your cheek and winked. “See you tonight, bby” he walked to his colleague casually and they left the room.

Nanami Kento

- You were having an intimate night with ur bf and while riding on him, only wearing black socks and him with just his tie. Then, u both suddenly heard a footstep. “Babe, do u have any idea who might come visit?” U asked, worried. His face changed as he remembered, “Oh my god! Gojo—“ before he could finished, Gojo appeared into his bedroom. He quickly pulled the blanket, securing ur body not being exposed. “Oh my gosh, dude!” Gojo shouted as he looked away. “Ur maid said ur up here so I just walked in and wasn’t excepting this!! Just lock next time” he said and left. “Ur not welcome here anymore, Satoru!” Nanami yelled as he apologized to u and u said ur okay. As u both fully clothed, u went to meet with Gojo and he laughed at both of you.

Sukuna Ryomen

- He was on top of you as he thrusting in you several times. “Ur fcking enjoying it, huh?” He asked with pride. “Yea—h” U moaned. Suddenly, his servant walked in. “Master, I heard an emergency—“ he was so stunned to speak. Sukuna didn’t even bother to look and continued taking you out. “I’m cumming” u said as he trusted harder and then he released. He kissed on ur forehead when you smiled at him. “I’ll be back” he said as he dressed up. “Now, where do I start slicing u off” he said to the servant.

Geto Suguru

- “I think Shoko is coming to study with me” U said when he was busy fcking u from behind. “When?” He calmly asked. “She didn’t tell the time but—“ U heard a voice. “Y/n! U wouldnt believe when I tell u this…” when she arrived to ur room, she was surprised to see u sweating and sitting alone and on bed… “What r u doing?” She asked being suspicious and not normal. “What do u mean? I’m just umm, sitting…” Geto was inside the blanket, beneath u. “Well, then…” she sat on bedside which made u panicked. “I know how much u hate Geto but hear me out I saw him starring at u at lunch time like is he crazy or smth” she gossiped. U bit ur lips. “Ahh right!” As she continues talking, u felt him playing with u as u started to feel smtg between ur leg. “Umm… stop! Ah-h” U yelled which made her confused. “What?” She asked as u forced smiling and shook ur head, “Nothing”

——

[gh0stsp1d3r]

girl we need more tattoo artist rafe !!! i beg you

A/N: AHH okay, okay! lemme see… lemme see what i can do….

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪. bf!tattoo artist!rafe giving reader a “made in heaven” tramp stamp

warnings: some sugestiveness, jokes ab sex

When you came up to him with the idea, he swore he could’ve busted in his pants just by thinking about it. So, it took him only a day to finish a stencil and design. He was more excited than you were, really.

Now, you sat in his chair, swinging your legs off the side as you waited for him. He snapped his gloves against his hands, a small smile on his face as he turned to you, skin cleaning supplies in hand.

He motioned for you to lay down, and you did. He pulled up the hem of your shirtt, and began to clean the area he was going to tattoo.

“Fuck, baby, you don’t even know how excited i am.” He told you while he wiped your skin off, you giggling at your boyfriend.

“I think i do.” You teased, remembering the way that his eyes practically bursted out of his face when you even suggested that he should tattoo it.

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck before putting the stencil over your skin, laying it down, before he transferred it onto your skin with careful precision and attention. He removed it, happy with the placement. He started to bring all his needles and ink next to him, putting them on the moving table he had. He stood behind you, needle hovering over your skin.

“You ready, baby?” He asked you, to which you hummed a little enthusiastic “mhm!”

Slowly, he lowered the needle down, his other hand grabbing your hip to still you. He traced over the stencil on your skin slowly, with attention to every detail. And like any good tattoo artist, he decided that it was better to distract you by speaking.

“So, what do you think about Chinese for dinner?” He asked you, you thinking before answering him.

“Sounds fine to me,” you replied.

“And after that, I was thinking I should get some dessert.” He spoke in a suggestive voice, causing you to smile and roll your eyes.

“Are you seriously thinking about sex while you’re tattooing me?” You asked with a raised eyebrow, and you could already see the grin on his face.

“Maybe.”

“You do that with all your clients?”

He chuckled, “Nah, only you.”

“Better be only me.” You retorted, him smiling as he continued to fill in the rest of the design.

And you’re glad you asked him to tattoo it, because with him, it felt like it was over in minutes. He had a smile on his face S he finished, pulling his phone out and snapping a picture, before handing it to you.

“You like it?” He asked you.

“I love it, ray.” You told him, moving to go kiss his lips. His hands cradled your face, kiss deepening as he pulled you closer to him. He began to shove his tongue in your mouth, when you pulled away, a small pout on his face.

“When we get home.” You told him, him huffing but moving away.

You smiled at him, feeling him gently kiss the skin next to the tattoo, before grabbing some saniderm next to him, wrapping it over and placing it over the tattoo.

[prettyinsophie]

Being Ms. Maximoff’s favorite pet…

2k words

college student! reader x college teacher! Wanda

warnings: mommy kink, fingering in a classroom, small use of y/n, squirting, age difference (duh), use of bunny/doll/etc. anddd it’s kinda trash tbh.

I’ve had this WIP for over a year so it was time for me to just finish it💀 buuuut I’m working on two Sevika different ones if y’all were wondering.

“Please don’t forget to go over the next session’s material. Remember we’re getting close to finals, but as for now you’re dismissed, have a good weekend.” Ms. Maximoff says and almost simultaneously everyone stands from their seats and heads out, some saying goodbye and others annoyed at the reminder of the upcoming stress of final exams.

“Hey, y/n. The girls and I are going to call it a day and grab lunch, wanna come?” With a bright smile, Kate offers, and you can feel another pair of eyes glancing at you.

“I’m sorry Kate, I actually have to stay for the next class, but you all have fun!” You reject the offer apologetically and the girl playfully rolls her eyes at you.

“I swear no one can crack you, promise you’ll join us next time.”

“Okay, I promise,” You smile back and watch her gather her things.

“Bye, enjoy yourself I guess.”

“Y-yeah, bye!”

Kate walks out of the room and the door loudly makes a “click” when it closes, bringing silence into the atmosphere. You look at Wanda and immediately gulp when she smirks at you with her head slightly tilted. She stands and walks to your seat, placing her hands on the desk. She leans down while looking down at you.

“Well, what do we have here? Didn’t you just say you have a class to attend, Ms. y/ln?” The woman asks in her low and smooth voice, and all you can do is stare blankly at her with your wide eyes.

“I-” You squeak and clear your throat, “I lied, I wanted to be with you alone, Ms. Maximoff.”

Wanda brings her hand to your face, softly brushing her fingers against your cheek, and laughs sweetly at your response.

“My darling, of course you did. Today you were so good…paying attention to the class and participating, even ignoring whenever Kate tried to talk to you when I was in the middle of the lecture.” She praises and your breath hitches, “That girl, always trying to get you to skip my class like you’re still in high school, but you never let her convince you. No. Because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

The way she intensely yet adorably looks at you for the only answer there is to that question makes your knees go weak, and you can feel your face starting to heat up.

“Yes, I am.” You breathe out.

Wanda sits next to you and starts petting your head and running her fingers through your soft hair, making you close your eyes and huff through your nose at the relaxing feeling.

“I can tell when my bunny wants attention, the way you stared at me the whole class like you wanted me to notice your obedient behavior and the little smiles when your answers were right. Good girls deserve a treat, don’t they?”

You hum, almost coming out as a moan and you get closer to her, nearly falling off your chair. Then you feel another hand on your knee and you open your eyes in surprise, but you knew what you were doing when you decided to wear that mini skirt. You simply loved to play dumb and innocent for her.

“My beautiful doll, always looking pretty for me,” She purrs while groping your thigh, traveling higher, “You have absolutely no idea how hard it is to have you in front of me, watching me with those big eyes of yours while biting your pen and not being able to do anything about it.”

Her hand finds its way under your skirt and traces the front of your lace panties, rubbing your clit with her thumb and you gulp down a moan and squirm under her.

“Hm, someone likes it there?”

“M-more...” You gasp, feeling her thumb pressing your sensitive button.

“Ah, ah,” Wanda shakes her head and grabs your jaw with her free hand, making you face her, and you stop breathing for a moment. She’s so close to you that your lips are about to brush. “Is that how you should talk to your mommy, sweetheart?”

Even if you wanted to shake your head, you couldn’t, so there’s no other option but to answer out loud.

“N-no, mommy. ‘M sorry.” You whisper, and your cheeks turn a pinkish color.

Wanda’s stern expression turns into a smirk, and your soft skin gets attacked by unwelcomed goosebumps. That smirk means she already has in mind what she wants to do to you, and your thighs rub together in anticipation of what that would be. The grip on your jaw softens, and the older woman leans in and kisses you. You close your eyes and hum at the familiar feeling of her soft lips on yours. It’s already flustering enough whenever Wanda touches or kisses you, but right now, being in the classroom makes it a hundred times more agitating for you. You love it though.

You tilt your head to the side and slightly open your mouth, giving her the perfect opportunity to slip her tongue past your lips, your thighs glued against each other, looking for something else while Wanda tastes you. The kiss is heated yet delicate, devouring you without having to make it disgustingly messy.

When she breaks the kiss you open your eyes and see her lips mildly smudged in your cherry lipgloss. All you can think is how hot she looks with anything red.

“Now, what is it that you need, baby?” She asks softly with a raspy voice.

“You.” You whimper without hesitating, “I need you, mommy, so bad.”

Wanda smiles and voices an almost inaudible “aww.”

“You have to be quiet, bunny. You understand, right?”

You nod your head desperately and she spreads your legs carefully. Your heartbeat thuds loudly in your ears, and it’s even pronounced against your throat. Her thumb traces your clit again, but this time you shift uncomfortably in the chair at the wetness in your panties, the finger travels down your pussy, the lace feeling sticky and you whine.

“My needy princess, all wet already, and I haven’t even started yet.” She whispers in your ear as she starts slowly massaging your clit, gaining a soft gasp from you.

She applies the right amount of pressure down your sensitive button, giving you just enough attention to keep you satisfied for now. You gulp, your chest beginning to heave as you struggle to keep quiet.

Wanda’s free hand finds your pouty lips, parting them with her thumb, and just as she does that, a small but clear whimper escapes your throat.

“Fine, guess I have to help you keep quiet,”

The redhead groans softly before forcing two fingers into your mouth, causing you to whine uncomfortably at first, which only makes her chuckle cruelly.

“C’mon sweetheart, you suck mommy’s cock just fine, you can handle my fingers.” She purrs with a taunting grin across her face. Her brows raised as if asking you for confirmation.

Your wide eyes look at her and you hum around her fingers, slowly but surely sucking on them with your addictive lips wrapped around Wanda’s long digits.

“That’s a good girl.” She softly encourages you, almost grunting because of your pretty mouth and the warmth of your tongue. Her eyes are fixated on your expression as she thrusts her fingers in and out of your mouth, focusing on the way your brows meet and shape your pretty face with an almost helpless look, fueling her most deprived desires. “Yeah…just like that.” She growls softly, thrusting deeper and harsher, causing you to whimper.

Wanda absolutely goes feral about how you don’t have a gag reflex. And she makes sure to take advantage of it whenever she can.

She tugs at the thin band of your panties, sliding them down until your aching cunt is free from the suffocating lace. A small groan escapes you when you feel a string of arousal connecting your pussy to the soaked material until it breaks from Wanda’s harsh tug. Count yourself lucky she didn’t rip them off.

Wanda gets her fingers out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’ and guides them to your dripping pussy, gently running them up and down, causing you to bite your lip in avoidance of any moans or whimpers.

“Tell me what you want, bunny.” She orders you gently, her lips hovering yours as she purposefully blows on them while her fingers coat your vulva with your wetness.

With a small gulp and bobbing on your throat, your eyes find hers in a pleading stare. The door isn’t even locked, and anyone could walk in. Your heartbeat tries to warn you relentlessly about it.

And yet, you still find yourself begging. “I want you to fill me up, mommy.”

It’s extremely deranged to be doing this in the place she works and you study at, especially with how you love to address her in the bedroom, but Wanda fucking loves it. She loves how you’re not as innocent as you portray yourself to be, and it’s all hers to see. In fact, you have such a strong effect on her that she’s subtly shifting on the chair, attempting to find friction between her own aching cunt and the thick material of her trousers.

The redhead smiles proudly at your obedience, planting a small but sweet kiss on your nose that has your brain melting, and she doesn’t waste a second before slowly sliding her fingers inside your pussy. Your walls are so warm that even a quiet but notorious whimper from her hits your ears, and you almost mirror it before she clashes your lips together in an almost needy kiss.

All you can think of is her; your hot mess of a teacher beginning to thrust her slender but long digits deeper and deeper as she tries to eat you alive. She’s only a starving animal when it comes to you.

Her fingers fuck you in a merciless rhythm, squelching and smacking filling the empty space, and rushing the blood to your cheeks in embarrassment at the lewd sounds. Your hips grind as well, somehow needing more despite her relentless thrusting, and she drinks your small moans of pleasure. Open mouthed lips capturing yours in a heated and desperate embrace with her free hand wrapped around your neck to both keep you in place and grip it tightly.

Clearly, Wanda couldn’t care less about where you are, at least not anymore. Her frenzied speed never fails to turn you into a puddle, and your thighs tremble once the familiar pressure rumbles down your belly.

“Mommy, I…” You try to tell her about the incoming blissful ending, and another harsh thrust against your spongy wall sends your eyes all the way back in euphoria.

As vocal as you’re being, you still try to keep it down. Your poor lungs are burning from your pathetic breathing, useless in the end because you’re still moaning and listening to their soft echoing.

“Yeah? Gonna cum all over mommy’s fingers, honey?” Wanda taunts you, her voice ragged with pulsing desire for the best sight there is to witness.

The steamy air and filling from her fingers are enough to warm you up. Small beads of sweat roll down your temples, and the heat releases the sweet scent of your perfume for Wanda to take in with her nose buried in the crook of your neck.

“So so close-“

A hurricane crashes down, emptying your head and your walls trap Wanda’s fingers inhumanly- as if trying to snap them from her hand to never miss the delicious stuffing again.

“What an impatient bunny. C’mon, keep being good for me and let go.” She whispers between bites and wet kisses on your neck.

The storm comes down, and you bite your lip so you won’t scream her name, drawing blood out as you squirt all over her fingers and your seat. The older woman can’t help but pant at the small show you’re performing for her, cursing because now this is all she’ll think about whenever she imparts her classes.

The white dots splattered all over Wanda’s face slowly fade away as you catch your breath and regain consciousness. She runs her fingers through your hair, soothing you and leaning in to suck the blood off your poor swollen lip.

“What am I going to do with you? I can’t control myself anymore.” Her question is mostly rhetoric, but it’s like she expects you to answer.

You don’t respond, of course, still empty headed because of her, and instead you just stare at her, completely moonstruck. Wanda sighs in amusement more than anything.

“My sweet, sweet girl…” She coos, her voice like honey.

The emptiness left by the ghost of her fingers causes you to groan under your breath, your thighs never ceasing their shivering. And she brings them to your mouth, the glistening of your creamy white arousal coating your lips as her digits enter your mouth again.

“How I wish I could just lock you up and keep you to myself.” She mutters between gruff sighs, intently watching you suck her fingers clean, “I hate that Kate keeps trying to keep you away from me…but you don’t want her. No. You want me, right?”

Doe wide eyes catch a glimpse of dangerous possessiveness in her emerald ones. You further take her fingers and nod your head, humming around her digits in a pleasing melody.

“One day…you’ll be away and missing, but finally all mine to have.”

[lovebugism]

saw you were looking for shy!reader requests and now I'm having visions of nighttime colorful twinkly lights, snow swirling in the frigid air, frost-bitten noses and tentative glances...

what about reader getting roped into holiday caroling with the gang, including her crush, Eddie? Or some other festive outdoor activity, preferably one which allows them to subtly get closer to each other without giving away their feelings 🤭 I'm feeling those 'will we won't we' vibes tonight hehe

wow. here's me casually writing a wee drabble for someone who's written some of my favorite works on this app lol. hope you like it angel :D !! — eddie keeps shy!you company during a holiday party at the wheeler house (friends to lovers, fluff | 0.9k)

The weirdo has a soft spot for the princess.

The Princess, he calls you, ‘cause Mike once convinced you to sub in on a D&D campaign some months ago now. You were a rebellious fairy from a clan of royal fae sent to guide the rag-tag troop through an enchanted, labyrinthine forest. 

You had dressed the part, too, despite having zero knowledge of the game itself. You waltzed into the Hellfire room in a flouncy pink dress, iridescent fairy wings from last halloween, and a crown of artificial flowers.

Eddie remembers you that way, still. A sweet and timid thing, with a big heart and a pretty laugh. Even now, as you sit all alone in the Wheeler’s backyard, away from all the chaos and the twinkling lights, bathed beneath a glowing pink sky and sparkling snow — you’re still such an ethereal thing. A heavenly being, flung from space.

He weaves through the quaint party and over to you, carrying a steaming cup of cocoa in one hand and his bleeding heart in the other. 

“How’s it going over here?” Eddie asks over the soft holiday music playing closer to the crowd.

You blink up at him with wide, glassy eyes, as though he’s just jolted you out of some sort of daze. “Oh. Yeah. Fine,” you stammer finally, smile wavering when Eddie’s lopsided grin makes you forget how to breathe. 

You tug the blanket tighter around your shoulders with cold and clammy hands. Hiding feels instinctual to you now.

“Freezing to death?” the boy quips and fights to keep his own teeth from chattering.

The sight of him before you, with snowflakes clinging to his curls and his pale skin softly flushed with wintertime, makes you smile more sincerely than you mean to.

“Something like that,” you nod.

Eddie extends a ringed hand towards you then, offering the paper cup of hot chocolate keeping his aching fingers warm. “Want some?”

“Oh, no— It’s okay,” you decline with a polite shake of your head while your chest blazes with misplaced embarrassment. “I— I can get my own.”

“Well, between us, I didn’t really want it in the first place,” Eddie confesses lowly, taking another step closer until you can smell the deep musk of his cologne. You tilt your chin to follow his gaze. “Little Holly offered me a cup, and I didn’t know how to say no.”

The thought of Eddie Munson, in all his daunting black and silver, having a sweet spot for the youngest Wheeler (whom he exclusively refers to as Little Holly) makes your chest go all warm. 

Holly has her own innocent affections for him, too — you know for a fact she’s got an obsession with his bat tattoo that’s driving Ted insane.

You duck your head in a feeble attempt to hide your smile. Eddie sees it anyway, though, and smiles at your smiling, perhaps wider than he realizes. 

You take the cocoa from him with gentle, trembling hands. His heart skips a beat when your fingers brush over the back of his own. Yours stops entirely when he sits down on the bench beside you — not unwelcome, of course, but more wanted next to you than you’d ever be willing to admit out loud.

Eddie hisses through his teeth and tenses beside you through a shiver. You watch him stick his pale hands in the pocket of his thin leather jacket, which he wears in spite of the inclement weather.

“Are you sure you don’t want another jacket?” you wonder sheepishly, peering at the boy through the corner of your eye.

“I’m good, princess,” he insists with a shake of his head, just before his glowing nose sniffles. “I’m a rockstar, remember? Rockstars don’t get cold.”

“Really?” you hum, quiet and sarcastic.

“Yeah. Freezing to death is, like, the least metal thing ever. It’s like, you know, using an umbrella when it’s raining— It just makes you ten times less cool.”

You shift on the creaking bench and smile at your cup of cocoa. “Well, me and the ladybug umbrella I’ve had since I was nine respectfully disagree,” you joke in shy murmurs, still so meek in humor.

Eddie laughs. You feel him trembling with it beside you from where his shoulder’s pressed against yours. You see his teeth chattering just before he lifts his hands over his mouth, breathing hard into his palms in a desperate attempt to warm them.

Your hands ache with the sudden urge to cover him up. They tremble with uncertainty when you drag the borrowed blanket from your left shoulder to drape the excess along his back. Eddie peers at you with a chocolate button-eyed look as you shift closer into him, made warm and alive by your proximity alone. He’s grateful for the act of kindness, still.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, gaze averted and cheeks pink. You’d almost think he was shy.

“Don’t mention it,” you murmur back and mean it.

“You know…” the boy lilts, nicotine-spearmint breath fanning warm across your cheek. You can hear the smile in his voice without ever even looking at him. “If you just wanted to be close to me, you coulda just said.”

You flash him a stern look from beneath your lashes, which still manages to look just as soft as the rest of you. You try not to think about how close he is to you now — close enough to make out every distinct shape of the snowflakes sticking to his wild hair.

“Don’t make it weird,” you plea through a deadpan.

“That’s a lot to ask of the local weirdo,” Eddie scoffs. “I mean, it’s kinda in the name, princess.”

“Sorry for not wanting you to freeze to death.”

Eddie meets your narrowed eyes with a crooked, pink grin dripping with mischief. 

“I like you, too, princess,” he croons quietly.

Your chest pinches. You have to remind yourself to breathe. “I didn’t say that,” you shake your head and turn away, looking back to the crowd mingling beneath falling snow and fairy lights. You don’t know why Eddie would want to be here with you, instead of over there with them. 

Eddie doesn’t know how he could want a single other thing than to be here with you.

“Didn’t have to,” you hear him say as he pulls the blanket tighter over his shoulder and shuffles closer into you. For warmth, you tell yourself. For warmth and not a damn thing else.

[wonderjanga]

*slides an idea under your door*

Captain Marvel accidentaly convincing people that he's a widowers

*runs away*

Captain Marvel is a widower. It makes sense. He wears a ring(ref to my Accessories post), he always gets sad on a certain day, and anytime romance is offered he immediately shies away from it. Now, the JL or civilians don’t know this but the ring thing is just a memento to his father, he just gets sad on that day cause it’s their death day, and he thinks romance is icky. But Billy’s not going to tell them any of that. Not because he doesn’t want to. No, he just doesn’t even know they think he’s a widower. Even if Billy did know though, after the amount of certain things he’s said, he doesn’t think he could convince him that isn’t a widower.

Marvel and Junior: *arguing*

Junior: “Yeah, well boo-hoo you’re motherless!”

Supes: *nearby, gasps because he thinks Junior just reminded his father of his dead mother*

Marvel: “Wha- You’re motherless too?!”

Supes: *double gasps because he thinks Marvel just confirmed his wife was dead because everyone thinks Junior is his kid*

He told everyone that the Widower Marvel theory was true and now confirmed.

or

On the anniversary of their parents’ deaths, Mary’s feeling a little upset.

Marvel: “Oh, I’m sorry Mary. I… know today is tough especially considering it’s the anniversary of that day.”

Mary: *tearing up slightly but trying to hide it*

Marvel: *kneels down looking like a proper father* “But, I want you to know that if you feel upset, you can always come to me. We can mourn together. That’s better than doing it alone, isn’t it?

Mary: *getting flashbacks from how their dad would also kneel down to comfort them which only makes her wanna cry more* “Yeah, okay.”

Wondy: *just happened to see this happening and thinks this is both simultaneously adorable and heartbreaking*

or

Junior and Marvel were in a rec room looking at a dress they’d placed on a table. They were arguing which one of them should wear it because they needed one of them needed to shapeshift into a girl for something stupid they planned to do later.

Marvel and Junior: *still arguing*

Flash: *walked in and sees the dress* “Who’s dress is that?”

Marvel: *startles and is trying to come up with an excuse for why a grown man and a somewhat little boy have a dress* “This uh…”

Junior: *wants to stir up some drama* “His wife. This dress belonged to his wife.”

Marvel: “Yeah, my wife- WAIT MY WHAT?”

Junior: “Me and Mary’s mom remember? The woman you married?” *does a little winky wink to convey that he wants him to go along with it*

Marvel: *gives him the most scandalized look*

Flash: *thinks the scandal is just him being upset that Junior is sharing something about their civilian lives* “Oh I see… uh my bad for intruding on your mourning…?”

Marvel and Junior: *in unison* “What?”

[luvmanifesting]

REASSURANCE post

feel like you failed 2024? because you wasted all your time scrolling instead of applying? well i’m gonna be straightforward with you in this post even thought its meant to help you feel better. in 2025 what YOU are going to stop doing is stop constantly looking for answers and you are going to start applying with what the information you have already and use that to manifest everything you want. idc if you have to robotically affirm or chant to whoever you believe in TAKE action already! no more crying, no more saying “ugh idm ill just shift anyway” no more procrastinating NO MORE LOOKING FOR ANSWERS. the only reason majority of you guys manifested NOTHING this year was:

you kept procrastinating

you were definitely being lazy

yes you were constantly reacting to the 3D

you seek validation from the 3D

you have a victim mindset

gross..!!! you are NOT entering 2025 like that! if its new years eve for you then you still have a chance to make things right for yourself, you absolutely can induce pure consciousness before the clock hits 12:00 YES YOU CAN YES YOU CAN. BUTT back to the main point of this post. REASSURANCE

you are okay, you are not a failure and no 2025 will not fail you, dust yourself off and wipe your tears you are not the only one struggling i promise. there are tons of people in this community with the lack of understanding and desperately needing answers like you but now its time to rid of that victimization mentality. you are GOD and if you don’t like that term then you are the CREATOR. remember please remember the 3D is dead, the 4D is the true reality. you were born with the most powerful gifts ever; IMAGINATION, AFFIRMATIONS. use your gifts to your advantage, you are not unlucky, you are not unworthy. acknowledge what you are not bringing in 2025 and let go of everything holding you back. yes you can manifest with terrible circumstances, yes you can induce pure consciousness at any time anywhere. QUIT looking at success stories for motivation. it brings jealousy and doubts. and why are you dependent on motivation?? its called discipline.

bring your 2025 shit you never thought you can ever have, do it for your name, do it for yourself, do it for the experiences you wish to have, do it for fun, do it stressed out, do it when you’re bored. MANIFESTING IS SUPPOSED TO BE FUN. if it feels like a chore then you’re doing it wrong, if you have to force yourself to affirm you’re doing it wrong.

LAW OF ASSUMPTION: assuming what you want to be true without the validation of the 3D (basically without proof). You affirm and then you decide you have it. Manifestation is not a process.

PURE CONSCIOUSNESS: only aware of the 4D just forget about the 3D.

hope to see plenty of success stories this year.

[sinofwriting]

21st - Max Verstappen (I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Words: 689 Summary: Pan, Max, Logan, and Oscar celebrate Logan’s 21st birthday together. (Part of the I ♥️ MILFS verse) Note(s): Takes place pretty much directly after the first fic and remember in that first fic Logan is twenty as I changed his and Oscar’s age. Also happy 24th birthday Logan! It's gonna treat you far better than 23 did! (that is threat btw, I will make it treat him better)

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse

Pan lets out a laugh as Oscar takes a drink from her glass, his whole face scrunching up as he practically slams it back on the table.

“Mom, what the fuck?”

Logan smacks the back of Oscar’s head lightly as he sputters. “Don’t say what the fuck like that to mom.”

Max watches the two of them, slightly wide-eyed as they begin to bicker.

“Are they always like this?” He asks her, voice quiet.

“Pretty much.” She laughs, leaning into Max and snuggling into his side when he automatically lifts his arm and presses a kiss to her head. “It’s off season as well, so both of them just fully get to relax.”

“It’s nice.” He tells her, watching as they two boys start to shove each other lightly.

“Okay, but what was that?”

“Moonshine.” She tells Oscar, leaning out of Max’s hold and forward to push Oscar’s hair up and out of his face, knowing he won’t notice it before settling back into Max’s side. “My grandfather made it often.”

Logan perks up at the first word. “Moonshine?” And he makes grabby hands at her glass.

She shakes her head, “There’s a mason jar on the bar, you can get yourself some.”

“You like that shit?” Oscar says, horror on his face as Logan practically sprints to the bar.

“I’ve never had moonshine.” Max’s voice is quiet in her ear and she turns her face to look at him.

Reaching for her glass, she pushes it to be in front of him. “Try it.”

Picking up the glass, he peers at it, before raising it to his lips and taking a drink.

His face scrunches up a bit, the glass getting set down with a quiet clink. “Yeah, I think that is a Sargeant thing. I’m not too sure about that.” Max then withdraws his arm from around her shoulders. “I’m gonna make myself a gin and tonic, want anything?” He asks the three of them as he stands.

Logan and Oscar both shake their heads.

“Some pretzels please, oh and bring the plate.”

He nods, the boys look at them in confusion. “Can do.”

“What plate?”

“Don’t worry about it.” She tells them.

“But what plate?”

Her eyes narrow and they both smile at her.

Max returns after a moment, an arm behind his back, while his other is slightly outstretched in front of him and she takes the drink in that hand, putting it down for him. And Max slowly moves his other arm in front of him and sitting on top of a plate is a cake, the icing on it saying ‘Happy 21st Logan’.

Logan beams at the sight of the cake as it’s set in front of him. “Thank you guys!”

Oscar lets out a small sigh, “I love America.”

Logan and her snort at the comment while Max raises an eyebrow at Oscar’s comment, sitting back down.

“Pan only makes this cake when it’s like a really special birthday. So, ten, sixteen, eighteen, and the next was twenty-one since it’s America’s drinking age. I’ve been waiting for this for years.”

“I always forget that twenty-one is special for you guys. Finally going to start drinking Logan?” Max jokes.

Logan laughs, but plays along. “Oh yeah, man. I’ve been waiting forever to finally have my first drink. It’s been painful to watch everyone else drink and have to wait another three years to join them.”

“Oh, agonizing, I’m sure.” Max says, with a nod.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He sighs before smiling. “But really, thank you, Momma and thank you, Max.”

“I don’t get thanks?” Oscar says, throwing his hands in the air.

Logan shakes his head, “nope. Deal with it.”

The Australian scowls but a smile is threatening to ruin it. “Bloody Americans.” He looks at Max for agreement, but he shakes his head.

“I don’t think so, mate. I quite like my Americans.”

Logan flushes a little and she can’t help but press a kiss to Max’s cheek, Oscar completely softening, the fake scowl gone from his face as he observes the three of them.

“Yeah, I quite like them too.”

[hhoneylemon]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩

dick grayson x hero!reader

summary: dick temporarily loses his hearing after a patrol

genre: fluff/slight comfort

word count: 1.2k

it was all a blur.

one moment, you’re fighting beside him. the next, he’s alone and blinking himself awake. he faintly remembers getting hit in the back of the head so hard that he could taste the color yellow.

dick doesn’t hear them. he can sense them, however, thanks to all those years in the gig. he turns as the thugs approach, sending a kick to the stomach of the closest thug, waiting to see who else would charge at him.

he doesn’t have to wait long. he wastes no time in beating a few of them with his escrima sticks, breathing hard when he sends another to the ground with a kick. his lungs and throat hurts. he can’t hear his breaths.

after punching the final thug a few times, he finally remembers he wasn’t here alone. a feeling of dread settles in his gut. he opens his mouth, roughly demanding where you are. he doesn’t hear himself, nor the reply as the thugs mouth moves. he curses himself internally; hearing loss. a possible sign of a concussion.

he drags himself out of the general area of the warehouse, searching separate rooms. he deals with the few thugs he comes across, but there are no signs of you. he’s beginning to panic. swiftly incapacitating people turns into bashing peoples heads into walls and floors. he’s more rough than he should be, less careful than he knows you’d wish he was.

upon finally emerging from the warehouse, he’s shown signs of your existence. there are a few thugs scattered about, already dealt with. he darts around in the shadows, being careful while also looking for you.

he almost screams for joy when he sees you in a small battle with someone. he’s immediately by your side, helping defeat a few other thugs who looked like they were about to gang up on you. you give him a quick ‘hey!’ as you punch the next thug, though you’re confused when dick didn’t reply to your greeting like he usually would.

the moment everyone else is dealt with, his arms are around you and the side of his face is pressed against yours. he lets out a shuddery breath and you make a noise of confusion.

���d? babe, you okay?”

he can feel your jaw move, but he can’t hear you. he lets out a noise of frustration, pulling away. there’s a look of despair on his face. you frown, cupping his chin with a hand.

“what’s wrong?”

his eyebrows furrow. what did you say? he shakes his head and points to his ear.

“i can’t hear.”

you tilt your head, giving a ‘huh?’ he breathes deeply, tilting his head to kiss your thumb.

“my hearing’s gone. i got hit in the head.”

you make a sound of understanding, then nod when you register the situation. you give him another hug, squeezing him. he quickly hugs back, gulping nervously. if he never hears your voice again, he’ll be gravely upset.

taking his hand, you begin leading him to the street. you can walk home, for all you care. or find a building with a fire escape you can climb to hop from rooftop to rooftop, either is fine. a kiss is pressed to dick’s cheek as you walk.

the usual chatter that’s shared after a patrol or mission is gone, bringing a sense of melancholy. all you have to comfort you is dick’s spandex-covered hand, which squeezes yours and makes sure you don’t have more than a few inches between each other. there are people in the streets of blüdhaven that pause and take photos of the cities defenders, though you’re left alone.

you find a building with a fire escape, pulling your boyfriend to the alleyway. he lets you climb first, following swiftly after you. together, the two of you run and leap from roof to roof until you make it to your apartment complex. he drops to the fire escape stairs and you follow him until reaching your window. breaking into your own apartment, you both climb into the bedroom.

you both strip and change into sleepwear; he grabs his tank top and sweatpants, stretching his arms. turning, he’s surprised to see you already on the bed. he didn’t hear the creak of the bed springs. oh yeah.

dick climbs onto the bed with you, settling onto his knees and cupping your cheek before kissing you softly. you place a hand on his thigh, sighing softly. he flutters his eyes at you and you frown.

“you’re so pretty.”

he gives you a look of confusion. you smile.

the two of you climb under the sheets together. he drapes himself atop of you, pressing his face against your chest. his arms wrap around your midsection, your own loosely wrapping around his waist. you peck the crown of his head.

“love you, dick. goodnight.”

he says nothing, though you didn’t necessarily expect him to. you stay awake a bit longer than normal, a sense of worry nestled in your mind, though exhaustion knocks you out regardless. dick takes much longer than usual; he’s used to sleeping to your heartbeat or your breathing, maybe the sounds of cars and such interrupting. absolute silence is frightening to him.

when dick awakes in the morning, he’s on his back with his arms flung at his sides. the room is illuminated by sunlight, the bed cold from the lack of his partners body. he groans, rolling over to hide his face in his pillow.

he heard the creaking of the bed springs.

he’s up within seconds, running down the small hallway to the kitchen. he finds you pouring a mug of coffee. he can hear the small hums that escape you, the sound of the coffee splashing into the mug.

as you put the coffee pot back into the machine, dick’s on you. he turns you, picks you up and spins you, places you back on the ground and attacks your face with kisses.

“good morning to you too.”

you smile, your arms wrapping around his neck. a sound that could be mistaken for a sob escapes your boyfriend.

“your voice is the sweetest sound on earth, babe. i, oh gosh, i love you.”

you laugh as he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, then captures your lips. his lips move desperately, as if he’d also regained his sense of touch. you smile, reaching a hand up into his hair and getting tangled in a few curls.

“well, i love you too. could i have my coffee now?”

he reluctantly releases you, watching you move with a small smile on his face. the moment you turn back towards him with your mug, he’s back to you. he gives you space to move your arm so that you can take a sip, though his hands find your hips and give them gentle squeezes.

you’d be annoyed that you weren’t able to sit if his face weren’t so pretty. a light smile carved with his lips, pretty blue eyes framed by long eyelashes, tan skin highlighted by the rays of sun that managed to leak through the kitchen curtains. with a sigh, you lean in to kiss his lips. he happily kisses back. you lean back and give him a teasing smile.

“have you even said good morning to haley yet?”

dick’s face drops. he immediately spins and skids to the living room a few feet away.

“my baby!”

you chuckle to yourself, watching as he drops to the floor in front of her. he’s such a dork.

masterlist

[toonice113]

Oh My My My ⋆ ★ J.Hughes

pairings: Jack Hughes x fem!reader (nicknamed Mary)

Genre: fluff

Trope: childhood best friends to lovers

summary: You've been in love with your best friend Jack since you were seven and he was nine, growing up your moms were convinced you would end up together and your dads would joke about it non stop. As you grow up you navigate through life together and figure out that maybe your moms were right all along.

warnings?: they are both in love with each other but can't admit it. I don't like using Y/N but I had to use it once or twice, a longish read?, timeline might be a bit wonky idk?, angst for like two seconds, there’s not a full on description of reader, but it’s briefly mentioned she has freckles, reader is called Mary the whole time but it’s a nickname, mention of bugs, I skimmed through it but didn’t really edit it, specially the ending so there might be some errors sorry.

Word count: 3.2k 

⋆˚࿔ tina's note 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ This is my first time writing in tumblr and about Jack in general hi i apologize in advance if this sucks but i was listening to debut and this idea popped up in my mind. Also English is my second language so there's that. Enjoy!

At seven years old you realized you were in love with your best friend Jack, you have been neighbors for forever and although you were in Luke's class in school, you had always been closer to Jack. Your afternoons were spent following around the Hughes brothers while they played hockey, often finding yourself playing referee when the two older boys wouldn't let Luke touch the ball they used as a puck. Your favorite time of the year though, was summer. Your summers at the lake house were magical, in those years it was you and your parents joining the Hughes two weeks after summer started and after you'd visited your grandparents.

That specific summer your parents had announced they were having another baby and you remember all the fuss everyone made about it and how even though you wanted to be excited about it you couldn't help but feel a little scared of your parents not loving you as much anymore, no one noticed the change in your mood but Jack, he knew something was wrong when he noticed your smile wasn't as big as always, how your eyes weren't almost closed as they usually were when you smiled genuinely. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he sat next to you in the porch swing after lunch. 

“Nothing” your voice came out small and it made Jack frown, he knew you were not okay and he wasn’t about to let his best friend keep feeling down if he could help it.

“Mary…”

“What if they don’t love me anymore?” your bottom lip trembled, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

 “Who?” the boy was confused, who could she be talking about? How could anyone not love his dear Mary? She was the perfect girl, kind and pretty and nice and smart and he could go on and on about the good qualities he found in his best friend for days.

“Mom and dad, what if when the baby comes they realize they don’t want me anymore?” Jack immediately wrapped you in his small arms

“Mary it’s impossible not to love you” he said “Plus, when Luke was born mom and dad didn’t stop loving me so I’m sure your mom and dad won’t stop loving you” That afternoon you and Jack spent hours sitting in the swing holding each other not really talking much but feeling comfort in each other.

“I dare you to throw this at Jack” Luke opened his hand to show you a small green caterpillar trying to crawl out of his palm.

“He’s going to freak and hurt it” you furrowed your brows, one thing Jack did not play with was bugs. Spiders, worms, roaches, it didn’t matter, they all freaked him out the same, which sucked because Luke was in that stage where he was fascinated by the creepy crawlers as Jack had baptized them and he often dragged you with him to explore the backyard and find new ones. 

“It’ll be okay” you stared at him for a few seconds before sighing and putting your hand out, out of all three boys Luke was always the best at convincing you to do things you didn't want to do, and he found it especially funny when he got the opportunity to mess with his brother without repercussions because Jack could never be mad at you.

Approaching Jack who was on the end of the small pier watching Quinn try to fish you tapped his shoulder, turning around he smiled at you “Oh hi Ma- AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH” he screeched as you flung the caterpillar at him, the poor bug falling on the wooden deck and beginning to crawl away while in his state of panic Jack took one too many steps backwards and fell in the water behind him. Quinn bursted out laughing dropping his fishing pole on the deck and clutching his stomach, behind you Luke laughed as well and you, well you couldn’t help but stare with worry in your face until the boy came up for air flinging his arms and exclaiming angrily, you knew he was angry because he wasn’t using your nickname, “Y/N I’M GOING TO BEAT YOU UP” he, of course, never followed up with his threat though, never seriously thinking about actually hurting you, he did however tell on you to your parents who after lecturing you on how that was dangerous and both Jack and the caterpillar could’ve ended up hurt grounded you for the weekend and you missed out on the trip to the outdoor movie theater, feeling bad Jack brought you back all your favorite snacks as an apology for getting you grounded.

During the first two weeks of summer when you were ten you had spent lots of time with your older cousin, she was fourteen and had told you all about her previous school year, including the story of her first kiss leaving you curious about it. When you arrived at the lake house you couldn’t shake the story out of your head, your cousin had said the boy she had kissed was one she really liked and that it had created butterflies in her stomach. On your third night there, You and Jack were outside after dinner, sitting in the tree house his dad had built for the kids to hang out in, he was wrapping a stick while you flipped through the pages of a magazine “Hey Jack” he looked up from his stick to you “Truth or dare?” you were hoping he chose dare so you could implement the plan you had been thinking about since the day you’d arrived. You wanted to see if the butterflies your cousin had talked about were true.

“Dare” bingo! 

“I dare you to kiss me” his eyes widened and you stared as he thought about it for a minute debating whether having his first kiss with his best friend was a good idea or not, then your eyes widened as he put his stick down and began walking the short distance to you, and as he was about to kiss you you panicked and ran away leaving poor Jack standing there staring at your figure disappear inside the house feeling embarrassment and defeat, that night Jack realized he might have liked you a little more than as just a friend.

As you grew up things changed, new friends came around, boyfriends and girlfriends, busy schedules creating a distance but never separating you two completely, even with your part time job at the froyo shop and Jack’s hockey you still found time for movie nights, early breakfasts before school, rushed meet ups during breaks and of course, summers at the lake house. 2019 was a specially weird year for you all, Jack had been busy with the US National development team and your parents had decided to buy a new house all the way across town, forcing you and your little sister to move schools. The move had meant that you could no longer just walk to the Hughes house and therefore you hadn’t seen the two younger brothers in a couple weeks, Quinn having already moved to Canada. But as summer approached you got through the two weeks of visiting your grandparents before getting ready for the big day, Jack’s draft was coming up and while your parents and sister were staying behind and spending the summer with your grandparents, you were meeting up with the Hughes in Vancouver. 

Quinn’s apartment was buzzing with emotions, Ellen lecturing the boys about being in their best behavior during the ceremony with Jim by her side nodding but not saying anything, the grandparents looked amused at it while the boys looked bored. Jack lit up when you arrived, jumping up and excusing you both with the excuse that he needed your opinion on his suit, pulling you into Quinn’s guest room as you managed to wave hello to everyone before he slammed the door behind you. “Thank god you’re here” He whispered into your hair as he held you close.

“Nervous?” You ask him basking on the warmth he radiated and the hug you had been waiting for for over a month now.

“No, just tired. Mom’s been going crazy over the whole thing” He pulled away a little, still keeping his hands on your waist but far enough so he could talk to you face to face, that’s when he realized you had changed in the month and weeks he hadn’t seen you, your hair was a bit longer, you were tanner and there were new freckles adorning your face probably from spending your days in the sun while at your grandparents and you had lost some more weight in your face so your cheekbones sat taller in your face, your lips were plumper too and for a second was ready to risk it all just for a kiss, but he quickly came back to earth and pulled you back for another hug pulling you towards the bed where you two laid cuddled up to each other as you told him all about your time apart. 

As he updated you on what life had been for him recently you stared at him and if he wasn't so into the story he was telling you were sure he would’ve noticed the loving glance you were giving him. He hadn’t changed one bit since the last time you’d seen him and you couldn’t help but get lost in his eyes that twinkled under the soft glow of sunshine coming from the curtain that wasn’t closed all the way. The door opening interrupted your thoughts, Luke and Quinn hurrying in and closing the door behind them, Luke threw himself on the bed while Quinn sat down by their feet “I need tomorrow to be over already” Luke sighed dramatically grabbing your hand and putting it in his head so you could run your fingers through his curls.

“Do you think she’ll be this stressed for your draft or will she have it down by then?” Quinn chuckled at his younger brother’s theatrics.

“God I hope she has it down or I might not show up until I absolutely have to” Luke said, you laughed at him as Jack tried to kick him off of you both but it only resulted in Luke slotting between you two.

“Let her be excited, two of her babies will be playing in the NHL next season” You tell the boys “Also I really don’t think she’ll be any different for your draft moosey, if anything she might be worse than right now, you are her youngest after all” Luke groaned pushing you away

The next day went by in a blur and suddenly you were at the Rogers Arena sitting between Jack and Luke after switching places a few times, you were originally supposed to sit besides their grandma but then she asked you to switch places because of the air blaring on her or something like that so you’d moved to sit on her original seat next to Quinn but then Luke started complaining about Quinn manspreading and not having any space which resulted in you and Quinn switching places and finally five minutes before the ceremony started you noticed Jack become a little restless for the first time all day after showing confident to everyone and with a singular look, Luke and you knew you had to switch places. 

That is how you found yourself sitting next to Jack, his hand holding onto yours strongly, the only sign he had given anyone that day of having any nerves. When the Devils called his name as first pick of the draft you all got up celebrating and he hugged you first “I’m so proud of you” you whispered in his ear before moving to the side so he could hug his brothers and then the rest of his family. It goes without saying that your phone was filled with so many pictures and videos of him on the stage the next morning that it kept telling you you were out of space. 

When you finally arrived at the lake house for summer after your stay in Vancouver your parents had a whole celebratory party planned out, a bunch of Jack’s friends joining you for it, and after dinner the parents decided to leave and so the house was filled with loud music and rowdy teenagers, you not being a big fan of small crowded areas retrieved to the upstairs balcony after making your rounds, staring down at all the people dancing and thinking about how this past year you had barely seen Jack and after this summer you would see him even less, the realization hitting you like a train, he was moving to New Jersey in the fall and you were staying behind for at least two more years, there was no way your friendship was ever going to be the way it had been ever again and you didn’t know if you were ready for it. 

“Now what are you doing here all alone?” The sound of the sliding door and a voice stopped you from thinking about it too much.

Turning slightly you could see Quinn walk towards you “Just not in the mood for a party I’m quite tired” but Quinn had known you your whole life, and even though you had never appeared as closed to him as you were with the two younger brothers he had always taken the role as a big brother seriously, that included being your big brother too so he knew something was wrong, but he also knew when to push and when to wait, so he just sat next to you and sipped on his beer bottle waiting for you to say something or decide you were okay to return to the party, he would stay with you all night if he had to “I’m so happy for him, his dreams are coming true you know? But I can’t help but feel sad too” you finally spoke after a few minutes of silence, still looking at the party below “I mean this is the beginning of something great so why does it feel like it's also the end of us?” 

Quinn watched as your eyes welled with tears, quickly setting his beer down and moving closer to hold you “Why do you think this is the end?” he wouldn’t admit it because he didn’t like to meddle, but he agreed with their dad’s idea that Jack and you would end up married one day, eh wasn’t blind, he’d seen the way you had his brother wrapped around your finger since you were six and eight, and even though you had never told him anything about your feelings and you were usually really good at hiding them, he’d seen the way you looked at Jack when you thought nobody was looking.

“We’ve already fallen apart this year and I only moved twenty minutes away I can’t imagine what it will be like once he is in New Jersey” You spoke through tears and sniffles, your thoughts too loud for you to notice the sliding door opening again, Quinn noticed though, turning softly as to not disrupt you in his arms, his brother, the one you were crying for was standing there, a heartbroken look on his face, Quinn encouraged him to come closer and talk to you with his eyes.

“Mary I don’t think I could go too long without you” Jack muttered walking towards you, startling you and making you separate from Quinn who squeezed your arm lightly before going back to the party. You stood there paralyzed feeling embarrassed from Jack finding out you were feeling this way, not wanting to make it seem like you were making it about you when it was supposed to be one of the happiest nights for him. “I’m sorry you felt like we were drifting apart I guess I was too in my head about the draft that I forgot about what was really important” 

By now he already had you in his arms, your head resting on his shoulder as you held onto him tightly, as if you were scared he would disappear “You don’t have to apologize this, I- um it’s nothing I’m just overreacting I don’t know hormones or something” you stuttered out the sentence. 

“But I mean it Mary” he spoke softly “I should’ve never been too busy to call you back or drive to your house to see you”

“You were busy with hockey Jack I understand that” you said looking up at him “It was important”

“And you are important too, god Mary you’ve been the most important person in my life for ten years, who else could I love so much as they were throwing a slimy little worm at me? I even apologized for getting you grounded after you did that” he chuckled at the memory making you smile “And who else could get away with leaving me hanging at a truth or dare kiss? Do you have any idea how much Quinn made fun of me after he found out about it?” This time it was you laughing “All those 2AM snack trips, and sneaking back into the house without anyone noticing, which mom knows about by the way, apparently we are not as sneaky as we thought we were, are my favorite part of summer, because it's just us, and I get to see you, the real you, not you who feel like you have to constantly check up on Luke or sit up straight the whole time so your mom doesn’t call you out on your posture, or like you have to help Quinn with everything because none of us do and you don’t want him to be all stressed out, those nights of just you and me watching mamma mia in our pajamas, you singing to every single song and trying to get me to dance with you, I wouldn’t change it for the world, you are my best friend yeah but I think somewhere along the way I got lost in the road and ended up falling in love with you” His confession leaves you speechless, wondering if it is real, if your best friend who you have been in love with for ten years is really standing in front of you telling you he is also in loe with you, and its only when you feel his hand touch your face to pull some strand of hair out of it that you realize it is all very real, so you reach up and pull him by his neck connecting your lips in a kiss you had been waiting for for too long.

Pulling away after a minute, both of you with smiley faces you speak “It was a cute little caterpillar I threw at you, I regretted not kissing you as soon as I ran out of the tree house and for the record I’ve been in love with you since I was seven after you sat on the porch swing with me for hours when I thought my parents wouldn’t love me anymore” Jack chuckles at your remarks and pulls you back in for another kiss.

[gallivantingheart]

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

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

word count: 41k+ (holy shit.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s so warm and sweet! “Seokmin?”

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

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

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

“It’s a curse. Can you help me?”

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

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

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

“I was hoping otherwise.”

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

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

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

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

“Younger.” Is all you say, guarded.

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

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

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

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

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

“So, how did Seokmin go?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mingyu, your apron.” You murmur.

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

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

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

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

You nod, smiling. “Yes, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mingyu, really?” You murmur.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This - this is for me?” She squeaks.

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t thank you enough. Truly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You heave a sigh. “How can I help?”

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

You perk up. “You know Mingyu?”

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

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

“So, can you fix it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I - good morning?” You grouse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ugh, arrogant.

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

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

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

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

“Y/N! I’ve - I’ve got something!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Sort of. I’ll bring her round.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Madam Y/N! How does my dress go?”

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

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

You shrug. “Only $60.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Rude little…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fragile.” He sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re getting married!”

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

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

“It’s thanks to you - it has to be!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I - yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Go away!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles. "You're very pretty."

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

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

You shrug. "Let's hope."

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess. Thanks.”

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

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

Jeonghan is another story.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A definite maybe?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, what’s for lunch-”

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

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

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

“Eugene!” You call.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you have my parcels?” You chirp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, Jeonghan.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about that spicy thai?” Haeun suggests.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Younger.” You snap, rather loudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about a thank you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You arch a brow. “What, like you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It’s going to blow! Run!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Phantoms.” You wheeze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ve got you. You’ll be fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I agree.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Angel.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was?” You press, scowling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You called?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The more hands the better.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She came by yesterday.” He says quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That sorceress.” He hisses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your heart.” She shrugs simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did she do to you?” He hisses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"W-wait."

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

"Hmm?"

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

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

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

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

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

You chuckle. "Liar."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles warmly. “You’ll come?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, what’s-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leave her be!” He protests.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I gue- yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We did it. You’re free.” You say into his shoulder.

 The Spellmaster’s hand is back in yours the moment you both finish and your gaze trails to the glaringly obvious loose end, now echoing through the hall like niggling background noise.

“I...what will happen to the princess?” You ask.

King Rodolfo’s expression sours. “She will be disciplined accordingly. When she receives her magic back will be up to her and her future behaviour. I’m not pleased in the least with how she has humiliated our kingdom and our family name.”

He gestures again and the chairs, table and this time, the princess are squirrelled away into the shadows. You feel all too exposed all over again, eager to end the meeting and return home. But the royal levels his gaze to the both of you.

“Yet, I am not done. You have both proven your worth as Spellmasters – even bested my daughter, the best in Aria. I offer you both places in my court and seats on the royal magic council for Aria. After this shameful time in our history, we should be eager for fresh eyes and new talent that has our people’s best interests. I can now see that the princess’s actions have left us vulnerable to the whims of the few.”

Your dream, within reach. Not completely what you had in mind, but almost. And with Jeonghan? You turn to him, to find him doing the same, an expression of expectance and some kind of hope in his eyes. You don’t know what for. But you can’t find yourself leaping at the chance like you used to. Before the curse. Before Martine and Jeonghan.

“‘Han, what are you choosing?” You say, turning to face away from the king.

He drops his gaze to the marble mosaic flooring. “I never wanted that. Being in the position I am and working hard where I am is enough. I landed well when I fled the castle. I’m going back to Martine. But if this is something you’ve always wanted? Whatever you choose, I will support you.”

You nod. “Okay.”

Jeonghan bows again. “Thank you for the generous offer, Your Majesty, but I do not feel capable of the task given and I’ll have to decline.”

You see the shift in sight to you and you shake your head with a tentatively growing smile. “I thank you as well. However, this isn’t my home. Martine is. I can’t just leave it all when so much has happened to me and I have unfinished business.”

He pauses to look between you. Suddenly, there is booming laughter as he nods, reclining back in his place. The gold halo appears again and the jewels in his crown scatter fragments of colour through the space and over your feet. You don’t feel as if he has taken offence to your rejection, which you're thankful for - you only just got into his good books. But your grandmother always told you about the library underneath the Aria gardens, stretching for acres. Full of magic resources.

“However, I do have my own request, if you please.” You call, holding a hand up gingerly.

Jeonghan whirls to look at you, but you ignore his pointed look and the miniscule tug on your wrist. Don’t be greedy, he’s saying.

“Open access to the castle’s private magic library, anytime we choose.”

There is a silence of mixed tensity before he nods, swatting idly with a wave of his hand. “I’ll grant your request, small in comparison to what duties you have declined. Thank you again for your service, you are dismissed.”

You beam and bow deeply, twice over before dashing out the door with a giggle. You tug the blonde along with you, Suki weaving about the both of you in joyful zoomies. By the time you have exited the castle - through the front gates this time - you have been given back your belongings and provided safe passage back to Martine as soon as available. There was even another carriage waiting, this time far more luxurious and less utilitarian in style. A guard follows you both, with explicit orders you’d heard in the hall to ensure that the three of you made it safely onto the train without resistance. With the drama of this morning, you were thankful for the promise of security. The footmen open the door and Jeonghan assists Suki in, then yourself, his hand gentle on the base of your spine for stability. He leaps in smoothly and the door closes with a mute click. There is a small lunch pack on the bench across from you, along with your tickets.

“Oh look, an en-route meal.” He says lightly.

While food sounded amazing, what you wanted even more was rest. The ordeal had taken it out of you and you longed for your creaky bed in the attic with the pink frilly floral sheets and Mingyu’s living room fireplace. Maybe that old age thing was still hanging around - everything kept wearing you out! Even as the thrum of magic through your body resisted it. Jeonghan glances over at you and shifts closer - By Merlin, your thoughts must be that obvious on your face. But then you remember how gruelling kneeling on the unforgiving marble floor must have been for the hours that you talked. The awkward angle that his arms stayed distended at to keep him subdued. Now you notice his own mirrored signs of weariness and the ginger way he held his arms. He kept rubbing the space under his kneecaps and he had limped with a favour of his ankles in the effort to move through the castle. Now it’s your turn to give him a haven, opening your arms for him to awkwardly settle into. His smile was warm like fresh pastry and made your cheeks heat up too.

“Rest. There's plenty here for the both of us and we can always take it on the train back.” You pat his knee and shift to lean back. He’s a little more firm and it’s a little more difficult to manhandle him to tilt so he’s leant against you. “Properly.”

You smirk a little before closing your eyes. The smooth stone that paves the roads comes in handy as the trip is easy and devoid of bumps. With the angle, your nose is now amongst his soft blonde strands and where you thought it might tickle, it doesn’t, instead gentle. The faint scent of cotton and lemon lulls you until you’re carefully shaken from the edge of sleep. Jeonghan’s dark eyes crinkle when you jerk upright.

“We’re back at the station. The footmen have advised that the next train is boarding and leaves in half an hour. Are you ready?” His already pillow-soft voice drifts quietly.

You sit up to attention, Suki already leaning on you with a paw that feels like a dagger on your thigh. “Sure, let’s go home.”

One of the footmen goes as far as to escort you all onto the train, flashing his seal and the tickets the King had provided. These tickets lead to the plush private cabins with their dark wood and red velvet seating. He stores the minimal luggage before pressing the tickets into Jeonghan’s grasp, bowing and exiting. Suki finally gets out and has a sniff around before claiming one of the window spots, with the wind away from her.

Poor Suki though, her peace doesn’t last long, seeing as this is yet another sleeper train back to the coast. You let Suki pick at the feather light slivers of salmon in your boxed lunch, while in turn, Jeonghan let you pick out the lettuce and spinach salad mix of his in exchange for your sheets of dried seaweed. You let him talk idly to fill the time, and prompt him with questions on his studies - ever the academic you were. It was also a ploy to push him out of his listener role between the two of you. At promptly sundown, Jeonghan casts the beds flat - the sight of the crisp monogrammed sheets had your drowsiness and worn magic come flooding back to the forefront of your mind. He could barely get them laid on before you were curling up in a ball, walking boots still on.

He nudges you. “Angel, you need to take your shoes off, get changed.”

You groan and sit back up, yanking at the buttons and laces to kick them off by the door. Even though you had sleeping garments, you didn’t quite feel comfortable yet in being seen in them. Your body may have felt like your own again, but not enough to not remind you of how old you’ve been.

“You go, I’ll do it after.” You lie, eyes closed.

That’s the last you remember until dawn, the cool sunlight piercing through the crack in the curtains and the steam horn blowing to announce the train’s arrival in Martine.

Your vest is off, hung on one of the coat hooks, next to his cloak and the collar of your shirt waist is loosened. You’re missing one stocking, your foot hanging off the edge. But you’re under the sheets, the sound of deep breaths next to you growing more familiar. Good Morgana, he sleeps like a god. He had the sense to change but the pity to leave you be. Suki is tucked right under your arm, her tail laid across your neck. The whistle sounds again and Jeonghan’s nose wrinkles like a rabbit’s. Rubbing at his eyes, he rolls to better face you, calling your name thick and low with sleep. You’re glad he can’t hear your heart stutter.

“Are we back yet?” He mumbles.

You hum, sitting up and adjusting the curtains to peek out at the landscape. The thinning trees blur by and the air is more arid - you can almost imagine smelling the salt on the rolling breeze.

“We must be. Let’s go home.”

A burning streak races through you as you say the words. Home. Martine was home.

Mingyu meets the two of you in the front living room. He takes your little suitcases and sets them aside, proceeding to wipe his hands nervously on his sage green canvas apron.

“You both made it back. How did it…” He raises his brows as he trails off.

You preen. “Yoon Jeonghan is no longer a fugitive and is now a free man. Aria is on its way to being back to normal for all magic users.”

The tall wizard heaves a sigh, then pulls a face. “Oh, thank goodness. I mean, it’s a little more than I expected, but!” Then he simmers, going back to being weary. “There’s someone here for you – just you, not Jeonghan. I told them you were out of town and wasn’t sure how long you’d be but they insisted they wait…”

“Good Morgana, for how long!” You shoot to attention.

Only then do you realise that Jeonghan’s hand sits loosely at your waist, an unconscious and certainly not unwanted notion. His grip tightens a fraction, becoming more noticeable.

“Only for an hour or two. Funnily, they didn’t seem to think you’d be too long.”

That sets you off even more. No one apart from the guys here knew where you were. With that, you ignore everything else and stride up the hall, Suki racing past and almost tripping you. Past the dining table to the courtyard-

You draw up short. An elderly woman in a simple blue and white striped shirt-waist and skirt at the garden table idly sipping a cup of tea. It would have been green or chamomile for sure. Her grandiose navy velvet cloak is slung over the back of her seat. She looks up at the thundering of your steps, her eye colour mirroring yours. A familiar coat of arms pin glints proudly on her chest.

“Grandmother.” You say quietly.

Suki is absolutely delighted to see her, meowing loud and persistent as she meanders over for pats. Meanwhile you’re halted in the doorway, your feet cemented in place. It’s been over six months. Which in theory, doesn’t sound like a lot. But after the curse and having not mentioned a word to your family of your condition or whereabouts, away from people you’d never been without, any amount of time is monumental.

“Enjoy your sabbatical?” Bora says dryly.

“I didn’t want… it’s complicated.” You murmur. You move to wilt and sit on the back steps of the kitchen, suddenly so small.

“From Kim Mingyu’s recount, so it would appear.” She replies. “The house is fine. It was in a temporal bubble so easily reversible. Our clocks are still off though, even now. However, perhaps that will have changed now you are…back on your feet.”

You slant your head in the afternoon light. “Grandmother, how did you know where I was after all this time?”

“Well, at first scrying didn’t work.” She begins.

“My aura had been disrupted.” You confirm.

She hums, levelling a glare to silence you. “So, after months of putting out contacts, we hear from sources in the palace in Aria of all places that you had returned, with silver hair. That you had bound the crown princess with the Vine Principle. We had informants work their way back from Aria, to here - this very house. The family was worried sick. Your mother had to close the nursery for a month – her emotions were affecting the plants.”

Guilt churned deep and thick in your stomach. Suki pulled back to headbutt your calf and comfort you. Now that the curse had been lifted, you were closer than ever. Bora’s gaze is expectant.

“I’m sorry, I just – after what I’d done and – I was cursed. I couldn’t bear to stay. So ashamed. I thought I had destroyed everything. But, Martine has made things better.”

She sighs softly. “I understand. I too, have made mistakes – nothing like yours, but mistakes all the same. But you’ve broken a strong curse that would have taken years for anyone else to even scrape the surface on. You have made an impact on the lives of those in Martine, without a drop of magic. And you corrected a wrong for our people in Aria that not even I could rectify when you were younger. Your journey and time away has done you good. It was necessary.”

Finally, the weight lifts and you can breathe. With a hand preoccupied, scratching Suki’s chin, you look up to smile. “Thank you. I think so, too.”

Setting aside her tea, she rises to stand and lean on the back of the chair. When your grandmother smiles in response, it’s rare and demure, the vision of elegance. But always worth it. Better than gold.

“You have done outstanding. Now, you’ve always had your eye on the High Council, yes? Like myself and your father?” Bewildered at the direction of conversation, you nod. This must be what whiplash feels like – you’ve seen the look you’re pulling on Jeonghan too many times. “For your diplomatic heroics, I would like to offer you a role within the Council. Most likely as an attendant for myself or your father as we both work in Spellmastery. But I believe your perspective would be valuable in furthering the strength of our people. You would have to leave Martine, probably stay in the Glass City, to attend to your duties.”

Six months ago – hell, even two months ago – you would have leapt and grovelled for a part to play in the High Council. But, you had roots here now. A happy future you’d carved by yourself. People who cared about you and you felt the same. And there was him.

“I – I appreciate the offer. Truly, I do. And I understand that this kind of opportunity isn’t given to just anyone all the time. But I have a life here now and I think I’d like to live it before having such a career. I hope you understand.”

You feel eyes on you and twist back on the steps to peer down the hall. A blur of lemon yellow vanishes round the corner, then pokes sheepishly back in. Eavesdropping. His cheeks are the faintest colour, his grin cheeky at being caught. Speaking of life. You wink back and then face your grandmother, to gauge her reaction. You don’t say no to a woman like her easily. But there’s something akin to pride blooming in her features, pushing her shoulders back and curling her thin lips.

“I do.” She makes her way back inside, climbing past you on the steps. She pauses at your side to lay a hand on your shoulder. “You have done extraordinary things here. I hope you continue to do so. Just please, call once in a while?”

You throw your head back to laugh as she passes you and glides down the hall.

Another, warmer presence is at your back moments later. “So, who was that?”

You roll your eyes and tip your head back to eye him upside down. “As if you weren’t listening.”

He holds his hands up. “I actually didn’t get all that much.”

You shuffle over so he sits. His knees sit up near his chin and it’s almost comical. “My grandmother.”

His eyes go wide. “The High Spellmistress?”

You nod and watch his jaw go ajar. “The very one. She offered me a place in the Glass City; in the Council as an attendant.” You can feel his presence dim and you reach out to lay a hand on his thigh. “I said no. That there was life to be had here - people I care about.”

He looks down at you, his expression calm but also unreadable. An aspect of him you were still trying to get your head around. From flamboyant, arrogant Spellmaster to careful and cautious Jeonghan.

“Like who?” He says, fishing very obviously.

Something you had absolutely no patience for. You purse your lips, amused. “Oh, I don’t know, Mingyu certainly.”

He deflates even more and now you can’t help but panic - you had hoped he could take a joke, like always. He had always had a confidence and bravado about him you didn’t think you could shake. Yet again, the shoe is on the other foot. You twist to better face him and tuck your knees under his.

“Hey, hey. And you, Jeonghan. Of course you.” You reach out to turn his face towards you. Dark eyes swimming beneath his sunny yellow fringe, almost exactly the same way as the day you met him. Your thumb runs circles over his cheek, daring for you. “You know, fishing for compliments is not very flattering, Jeonghan. And you don’t need to with me. I found my magic for you.”

He smiles, radiant, and puckers his lips to kiss the pad of your thumb - a gentle romantic, you’ve slowly realised. You gasp quietly, your heart stuttering relentlessly as it tries to catch up and regain control with your emotions. Now you know you’re blushing, your chest all tight and, oh maybe a little lightheaded with how easily confessions come to light. As much as he grated on you, Jeonghan made talking easy. Suki meanders closer and pleasantly interrupts with a loud meow. The sun is setting - dinner, like clockwork. Jeonghan grins and shushes her, still under your touch.

“Quiet Suki, we’re having a moment. That’s good. Because no matter what, I was going to be with you.” He says with a steady conviction that makes you feel as if an Augur could have predicted his from miles away. “The moment you laughed - really laughed - I was hooked. My angel, spun of magic and starlight.”

Martine’s annual Magic Festival is a month away, but preparations have been in the works for at least two months before. Between Joshua’s Crystal forecasting, Soonyoung gearing up for the many rituals to take place and Seokmin bringing in extra stock for the apothecary and any roaming magic users, everyone is busy. Jeonghan is slowly getting busier, with wards to put up and a lot of liaising with Aria’s magic council for their representatives to be greeted well. It was all about marketing, you supposed. And they deemed yourself and Jeonghan the best people for the job. You had still not been given permission by the King to release the princess, so she must not be… mature enough to participate in the event.

You had commissions coming out your ears, requiring daily trips up to the Post Office for supplies you had ordered. Most of the time Eugene would just throw your new supplies at you and send you on your way. Not that you weren’t welcome to conversation, but everyone now knew your services were a well sought after commodity. Even more so now the curse had been lifted. A better Spellmistress than Jeonghan in Martine? Everyone paid handsomely for your wares. 

Somehow between everyone’s commissioned garments, you managed to find time to work on planning your own. The week-long festival was the biggest event on the Magic Calendar. Held in a different city every year, casters from far and wide travelled to celebrate. Everyone dressed in their best and stored their best spells or potions for trading and enjoyment. Martine would become a city that never slept. Street vendors and magic demonstrations, parades and parties. You thought it a bit funny when Martine had been announced. Maybe, for those in the know, even rigged. It meant your whole family would be coming to town and making a nuisance of themselves in your business.

It’s a cool sunny morning when the post arrives to you first. It’s magic mail, from the way it’s wrapped in velvet and floats in the door of the study of its own accord, landing gently on your work - a suit for Soonyoung with glittering chains and coins that would jingle as he danced. Your name is in thin cursive on the note slipped between the many folds. The velvet is long and wide enough for a whole new garment - which gets your brain thinking before you’ve even reached your gift. You gasp and hold it to the light. Suki perks up and goes still as well. It looks battered and a little weathered in places, the top not quite pointing straight. But you’ve seen this hat in your family’s home for many years and in plenty of portraits - painted or photographed. The ribbon around the base needs freshening up since the last wearer and the dead flowers pinned beneath it look a little meek. Setting it aside, you reach for the note and unfold the heavy textured paper. The letterhead is emblazoned with the High Council’s coat of arms.

Y/N, It is now your turn to proudly represent the family in this years’ Magic Festival. Like those before you, decorate as you see fit and wear it with pride. I will be speaking at the opening, so I look forward to seeing you then. Regards, Bora

You look at Suki. “Are you seeing this too?”

She meows assurance in response. You twist it and tilt it to get a better feel of it. It even felt magic, humming with its own presence and life. Of memories from those before. This was monumental - you’d seen your mother wearing it for as long as you could remember and you’d been dreaming of the day it was your turn. When you had completed your studies and the family deemed you ready to represent them. While you had briefly worn it for graduation photos, it had still firmly been in your mother’s possession. You look past it to the fabric it arrived in - you now needed a whole new plan for what to wear, and that bolt of velvet was just where to start.

Some days Jeonghan deemed his jobs to be two-person jobs, effort and time cut in half he had said blithely. So you were tugged out of the studio and on the streets. He still walked on the side closest to the road and Suki still weaved trouble beneath feet. But the tasks were easy and a way to stretch your magic muscles, so to say. Today entailed a few wards and something about a “Full House Down”, an expensive offer that Jeonghan had available.

“What is a Full House Down? It sounds like a lot of nothing. Scammer.” You say, sceptical.

He gasps, mock offended. “It is not! It is a full sweep of a household to implement an integrated magic system. Wards, self-cleaning, security, and other such additions.”

You baulk at his list of services. “Oh. And what are you - we doing today?”

“Mr and Mrs Park Hyunjin require our talents for their new home.” Jeonghan smirks proudly over at you. “I thought you might enjoy flexing your magical talents for your dear friend and customer.”

You beam and twine your arm in his, your grouchy mood instantly mollified. “Ah Jeonghan, that’s very sweet of you. Thank you. Now, tell me the plan - what is the commission, so to say.”

The job is only an hour and half, entailing security measures over windows and doors, kitchen cleaning spells and temperature management. And if you managed to put in a few luck and protection sigils about the place, Jeonghan didn’t mention it. Hyunjin was in his office, Minji having tea with her mother and sister at the family home. His fine features greeted you warmly from the window as you carefully hovered a storey from the ground. Your wand was now your own, crafted by a close travelling friend of the other wizards, Minghao. It was a sturdy oak wood with lovely engravings around the top end that looked like rippling ribbons that curled into a comfortable moulded grip. The Tudor-style home with thatched roof positively glowed by the time the two of you were done with it.

You knocked Jeonghan’s hip with your own. “Well done Spellmaster Jeonghan.”

“And you, fellow Spellmistress.” His dark gaze slid to you, warm and crinkled.

Again, you slip your arm in his and he yanks you close to lead you back to your many garments awaiting attention. Idly he drops a kiss to your temple as you both pass a café, some mortal young women pausing their conversation to look at the two of you longingly through the window front.

“You’re a tease, Hannie.” You mutter with a smirk. “Oh, did I tell you my grandmother is coming to open the Magic Festival? She sent me the family Hat. My mother had it last.”

Your mind drifts from the cobbled pavement and pelting sunlight to the faded ribbon and withered floral you knew were hers. The embroidery was your grandmother’s and the patches and unfortunate kink in the pointed tip were your great grandmother’s - she worked on a farm and put the Hat through the wringer.

His breath catches as he looks down at you. “Really? Congratulations, I’m so proud of you, Angel.”

You nod, your face warming. “I- thanks. She sent it in a pile of velvet I just have to use. I have a feeling she knew I would - I don’t really have anything to wear that would be suitable otherwise. All of it is back home, for the best.”

He coos and pats your hand. “Oh, I would have loved to see you in your little dresses before you dropped the hem! So cute.”

You screw your face up and squirm. Suki has leaped up onto a brick wall to parade in the sun, her tail lax but pink nose in the air. He means the dresses and garments you would have worn before being deemed an adult, with hemlines to your mid-calf and flat slippers and frilly neck decorations. Even trousers and tunics for more manual work in pleasant pastels.  While you had worn more adult wear before the curse had happened, the darker tones and properly dropped hemline didn’t happen until you were in Martine. You had stuck to mainly ankle length skirts and light linens for breathability and easy manoeuvring for spells.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I looked like a child! I do not need the thought of you coddling me like one.” You softly snarl.

He simmers a little and gently sways the two of you. “I’m sorry, Angel. I didn’t mean to annoy you. Only that, I would have liked to know you when we were younger.”

“Not much has changed, apart from the fact I’m a little wiser.” You shrug. “Maybe a little grumpier.”

Jeonghan chuckles and leans forward to open Mingyu’s back gate. “Remnants of old age.”

You make a grumbling noise but leave it at that as you fish your key out of your apron to unlock the door. Suki dashes in first, narrowly missing tangling your ankles together so she can return to her well-warmed spot in the sun.

You work feverishly on your own personal project, stabbing your soft fingertips far too much for your lack of patience in the few weeks left. Mingyu is sweet enough to bring you dinner a few nights into the studio, humming positive observances of your progress. Suki is not allowed anywhere near the garment, for fear of having stray fur caught on the textured material. Minji has her regular tea appointments with you as well, perched in your window seat, every guest’s prime position.

“Oh, you know what would be absolutely darling? If you and Jeonghan matched! He is escorting you, of course.” She sings.

You slide your eyes at her. “I’m my own person, Minji. Besides, this dress is for me. It’s my first after the curse.”

She had been absolutely ecstatic for you when she came in the day after you returned from Aria to find a silver-haired young woman making measurements and grumbling remarks. She had claimed on sight that she knew you were magic - you had to be with the way you handled a needle and thread. Then she made a point of barging in unannounced just as often as Jeonghan in the lead up to her wedding with tea and gossip. It was what friends do, she preened. You don’t tell Minji after your conversation that you were now looking for a ribbon for lacing the same blue as his cloak - you refused to give her such satisfaction.

You could barely sleep the night before - Suki just as restless, bouncing up and down off the bed. Only after a potent, lukewarm shot of Mingyu’s lavender tea did sleep find you. Certainly not the way in which Mingyu intended for it to be consumed. You were meticulous when getting ready by the soft east sunrise, murmuring ceremonial incantations as you did so. Some to bring prosperity and power during this auspicious time, others for your family and magic. Everything felt warmer and buzzing, as if the magic that swirled within you was just begging to burst free. Suki’s golden eyes seemed to glow even more as the magic between you both strengthened. You were meeting Jeonghan in the studio, which was handy seeing as you had forgotten the extra pin for your apron there, hoping you wouldn’t need it. You can hear him before you see him, his boots making crisp steps over the russet pavement - even the air sung in his wake. Nervously, you smoothed down the front of your dress, spinning from the full-length mirror to face him in the entryway.

The velvet hugs your torso nicely, the sky blue silk ribbon of the back lacing popping brightly. It had thick straps and was long enough to hit your ankles. A thin white blouse underneath you’d been working on for a while with long sleeves to protect against the sun, a turned up rounded collar and rounded v-neck from the apex of your shoulders that met nicely with the straight neckline of your overdress. There were little lace eyelets on the neck of your blouse that had been painful to sew on that you imported from Aria. Sensible lace up boots in a shiny black leather - Eugene had recommended a fabulous cobbler, that turned out to be his cousin. Flowers embroidered on the hem of your dress, difficult with the thickness but necessary as they weaved with luck and magic sigils. And your hat. You had added that same Aria lace to the brim but dyed it a sky blue as well. Your apron is a crisp white with more lace on the bottom along with the sky blue silk ribbon in a strip near the bottom as well, white cotton sigils almost invisible to the eye stitched in. Jeonghan in his cloak and a starched shirt and sky blue pants goes still in the entryway. Multiple layers of long necklaces and talismans from his family glinted and shimmered against his pure white starched shirt. His graceful blonde hair curled gently with the magic in the town, a life all its own and dark eyes that glittered with morning light. Suki graciously let you tie the last of your ribbon around her neck in a pretty bow. And you bathed her too! Miracles do happen.

You frown after he neglects to move again. “Jeonghan, what? Is it not good? I mean I know the velvet is a bit much but-”

He scrambles now and shakes his head, closes his mouth. “No! Not at all! It’s beautiful. I’ve just - I’ve never seen you like this? So…I have no words. None that make sense.”

You smile and secure your hat. “Oh good. Let’s go then, I’m meeting my grandmother there.”

He shakes his head again and steps closer, reaching for you and tugging you by the waist close. You gasp and grab to steady your hat.

“You’ve almost made it too well. I wish I could keep you here.” It’s a pondering purr that electrifies you.

“If you would like to brave the wrath of my grandmother, then by all means.” You roll your eyes as best you can.

Jeonghan laughs and shifts your hand to lift your hat. He angles it to shade both of you from the sun blasting through the window. There is a sweet scent about him, like sugar dust and lilies with that undercurrent of pine that you would miss if you didn’t know he used it to fragrance his bedsheets.

“Sunlight and Starlight - I think we could take her.” He draws a long, meandering kiss from you, making your lashes flutter in a struggle to focus. He grins, cheeky. “But for you, Angel, I’ll escort you to town.”

He withdraws to settle your witch’s hat back on your head, straightening the brim. Looping your arm through his, you motion for Suki who leaps down and trots in front to the gate. The zing of your magic under your skin and through your pulse never gets old as you pull out your wand from the holster on your rib cage. A simple wave of the wood instrument and the door closes, sealing with a silver spark.

[vunblr]

Fangs and Spells

Pairing: Worgen!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected sex. Dirty talk. Soft-dom!Bucky. Possessive!Bucky.

Summary: Bucky, a grumpy worgen warrior, and his sharp-tongued mage partner are sent on a relatively simple quest that quickly spirals into chaos.

Word Count: About 12k.

Notes: Ok, this one is... heated, I'm sorry beforehand (not).

I’ve been playing World of Warcraft for 15 years, and even though life keeps me away, I’m always eager to return. That said, you don’t need to have played WoW to enjoy this story (though if you have, feel free to comment!).

The golden expanse of Westfall stretched endlessly beneath a bruised sky, and the faint scent of rain hung in the air. Rolling grain fields, left untended for far too long, waved like restless ghosts in the wind. To the south of Moonbrook, jagged cliffs met the turbulent sea, its waves crashing against the rocks with a rhythmic, almost hypnotic fury.

It wasn’t an inviting place, not anymore. The days of bountiful harvests and tight-knit farming communities were long gone, stolen by bandits, gnolls, and worse. The remaining folk clung stubbornly to their land, driven by defiance and desperation. And if you asked them, the worgen prowling over from Duskwood to raid the struggling riverside farms were on top of the offender's list.

Near the cliff's edge, a small clearing hosted a half-pitched tent flapping uselessly in the rising wind. A warrior with a scowl etched deep into his face knelt beside it, hammering a stake into the rocky ground with more force than was strictly necessary. Standing a few feet away, a mage held the sagging canvas taut, glaring daggers at him.

"You had one job, Buck," she bit out, exasperated as the wind tugged at her robes.

“The idiot deserved it, and you know it,” he muttered, not bothering to look up.

She let out a humorless laugh, sharp enough to cut through the whistling wind. “Oh, I know. But that doesn’t mean you had to snap in the middle of the inn. For Light’s sake, Bucky, all you had to do was keep your temper in check. We were finally about to get a decent night’s sleep. But no, you had to let your claws show.”

His lip curled, and hint of a snarl escaped his throat before he caught himself. “The bastard invited you to ‘polish his greatsword’ while groping himself under the table. What was I supposed to do?”

“Nothing! Nothing would’ve been perfect. I could’ve frozen his excuse of a dick and left him weeping into his ale. Then we could’ve stayed, and maybe even conned him into buying an overpriced healing potion for his bruised ego since there isn’t a decent merchant in this God-forgotten place. But no, you just had to make it personal.”

Bucky let out a huff, standing to stretch his shoulders. The motion pulled his vest taut, and her eyes flicked down for the briefest of moments before she caught herself and snapped her gaze back to the tent. He mumbled under his breath, “He had it coming.”

She didn’t let him off the hook. “Please. You just took the opportunity to vent because Steve sent us to kill nagas on the beach. And you hate the coast because when you shift, the sand gets into your fur and other places you don’t-”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, waving her off with a sharp motion and an uncharacteristic hint of color in his cheeks. “Maybe that had something to do with it. But still, the bastard deserved it.”

She smirked, pulling the canvas tighter over the flimsy frame of the tent. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, big guy.”

He huffed again, crossing his arms, fixing his eyes on the distant horizon.

“Just... remember where we are,” she advised softly, "This isn’t Dalaran or some other cultivated place. These farmers deal with the Duskwood worgens six days a week lately. They don’t believe -or care- that there’s a way for your kind to regain their humanity."

He stiffened slightly at her words. She regretted saying them the moment they left her mouth, but he didn’t snap back. Instead, he shifted his weight, avoiding her gaze entirely.

"We got lucky you only half-shifted, and the owner just asked us to leave instead of raising some kind of alarm."

“Don’t fool yourself,” he muttered. “He didn’t call on us because he knows we’re here to deal with the nagas.”

“Maybe,” she allowed with a slight shrug. “But that’s not the point.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair as the first fat drops of rain began to patter against the canvas.

Her voice softened slightly as she bent to secure the last corner of the tent, though her gaze stayed sharp. “Look, I appreciate what you did in some way, but you usually let me handle this kind of thing. The last couple of days, though… you’ve been broodier and grumpier than usual, and that’s saying something. This isn’t just about the beach, is it?”

He grunted, keeping his eyes on the stakes. “You’re imagining things. Maybe you’ve just forgotten my charming personality since it’s been a month since our last quest together.”

She quirked an unimpressed brow, crossing her arms as the rain dripped from the edge of her hood. “Thanks to your charming personality, almost no one in the guild wants to team up with you unless we’re raiding. And its why Steve pairs me with you, because apparently, I can ‘handle’ you.”

Bucky squinted up at her, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Yeah,” she continued, folding her arms tighter as her voice took on a teasing lilt. “So believe me when I say you’re ‘Buckier’ than usual right now.”

He straightened, looming over her slightly, and let out a quiet huff. “Think what you want,” he muttered, brushing past her to retrieve his bedroll from their supplies.

She wasn’t wrong, and he hated how much her observation rattled him. Worse, he hated how easily she could unravel the mask he wore, the one that kept everyone else at arm’s length. But he couldn’t explain why, not without revealing more than he was willing to.

He should’ve seen it coming. Every Gilnean, given their worgen blood, knew what it felt like, that slow-burning tension building incrementally until it exploded into something primal and impossible to ignore. His rut came like clockwork every year, and when it did, he disappeared from the radar, holed up in some remote spot until it passed. Sometimes alone, sometimes not.

This time, though, Steve had insisted the naga situation couldn’t wait. The bounty was too big, the stakes too high, and Bucky, hadn’t argued. He’d thought he had more time before his hormones kicked in. He’d been so wrong. And now? Sharing a flimsy tent with her and her sharp tongue? It was like throwing oil on a fire.

He glanced at her, and his gaze lingered longer than it should have. She was bent over the supplies, muttering under her breath as she organized their gear. The damp fabric of her robes clung to her frame, outlining curves he’d tried not to notice since… well, he couldn’t remember when it started.

He’d been drawn to her for longer than he cared to admit, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it had started. Maybe it was her sharp wit, the way she never backed down from him, or the way she smiled at him when he wasn’t ready for it. Maybe it was just the way she treated him, like he was more than just a worgen with a bad attitude.

Whatever it was, it didn’t help now. Not when every glance, every stray brush of her hand, set his nerves alight and his thoughts spiraling into dangerous territory.

“You’re quiet,” she said, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“Nothing to say,” he muttered, unrolling his bedroll and laying it out on the ground.

“Uh-huh,” she replied with skepticism clear in her tone. She didn’t press further, though, for which he was grateful. Instead, she settled onto her own bedroll.

The rain drummed steadily against the canvas above them, a soothing rhythm that contrasted with the storm brewing inside him. He clenched his fists at his sides, willing the heat in his veins to subside.

He just had to get through this. The nagas wouldn’t take more than a day or two to deal with, and then he could disappear before she noticed anything was off.

He hoped.

------

Maybe pitching the tent near the treeline by the rift hadn’t been their most brilliant idea. Sure, on paper, it seemed logical, far enough from the coast to avoid naga and murloc patrols, gnoll bands, Defias stragglers, and those damn coyotes. But the coastline's wind and chill seeped through their tent's flimsy fabric, turning the night into a teeth-chattering endurance test.

It wasn’t a problem for him. His worgen nature granted him a resilience she could only envy, but she was clearly freezing. He could hear the faint clatter of her teeth every now and then, no matter how she tried to stifle it.

Both of them were awake, though for different reasons.

“Bucky,” she whispered, cutting through the steady rhythm of the rain.

He didn’t answer, hoping she’d think he was asleep and leave him alone. She knew how hard rest was for him, how much effort it took to him to conceal just a couple of hours of sleep.

“Bucky,” she tried again, her voice sharper this time. “I know you’re awake.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes in the dark. “You can’t see a thing. How do you know?”

“Pfft. Because if you were asleep, you’d be snoring.”

“I don’t-”

“Like a cute little pig,” she added, cutting him off with an audible smirk.

He pressed his tongue against his cheek, exhaling sharply through his nose. Maybe he did. How would he know? He didn’t exactly stick around for morning conversations after his usual flings, and no one had ever mentioned it before.

“Well, what is it?” he asked gruffly.

“I’m cold,” she admitted.

Oh, he knew where this was going.

“I didn’t pack for a quest in Northrend,” she continued, her tone edged with frustration, “and I’m freezing my ass off. Do your thing.”

He stiffened, dread settling low in his stomach. “It’s not that cold,” he dismissed, turning onto his side and hoping she’d drop it.

“Don’t be an ass,” she shot back, shifting to face him. “You know it is, and we could’ve been warm and cozy in the tavern right now if not for your macho display earlier.”

His lips twitched into a snarl before he smoothed his expression. “I’m not shifting.”

“Oh, come on,” she groaned, her breath puffing out visibly in the cold air. “You’ve done it before.”

“That was different, we were really in Northrend,” he grunted.

She rolled her eyes, but her voice softened a little. “I’m freezing, Buck. I wouldn’t be asking you if I did not. Please.”

Her tone made him pause, wavering his internal resistance. He sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. This wasn’t fair. Her scent was already messing with his focus enough, and now she wanted to press against him for warmth?

“Fine,” he ground out.

She hummed in approval as he shifted with practiced ease. He took off his vest and his bones cracked and muscles rippled, becoming larger, thick dark fur covered his body and deathly claws grew on his hands. He didn’t dare to meet her gaze as she scooted closer, curling her smaller frame into his side.

“See? Not so bad,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his chest while she poked at his snout. “Warm and cozy. You’re practically a luxury fur rug.”

His lips twitched, a reluctant smile threatening to break through the scowl he’d carefully crafted. “Glad I could be of service,” he muttered dryly.

She snorted softly, the sound more endearing than he’d ever admit. “Don’t act like you’re suffering. You’re just grumpy because I called you out.”

“I’m grumpy because I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere with you,” he retorted, but the words lacked venom.

She didn’t reply immediately, and he thought she might’ve finally fallen asleep. But then, she spoke again, quieter this time.

“For what it’s worth, thanks, Buck.”

He didn’t answer, tightening his jaw as he tried not to focus on how perfectly she fit against him. Her scent -warm and familiar- filled his senses, sending a deep, instinctual thrum through his veins.

This was going to be a long night.

------

The night dragged on, and though she moved only a couple of times, it was enough to drive him mad. Normally, her restless shifting wouldn’t have been an issue. But now, with his traitorous body on high alert and her nestled against him, it was sheer torment.

At some point, she settled in just the wrong -or perhaps right- position. Her back molded to his chest, her softer form impossibly close. His body reacted before his brain could catch up, and before he knew it, his arm was slung possessively around her waist.

And she didn’t resist. If anything, she leaned into him, her unconscious search for warmth becoming his greatest torture. When her hips shifted slightly, her rear brushing against his growing arousal, Bucky clenched his jaw so hard it hurt.

His instincts roared, the part of him tied to his worgen blood demanding he take what was so temptingly close. His hand twitched against her waist, his claws threatening to pierce the fabric of her robe as he fought the overwhelming urge to act. He bit down on the snarl building in his throat, forcing himself to remain still.

He closed his eyes, his breath was shallow and uneven as the storm outside raged on. This wasn’t him. No matter what his instincts tried to tell him, he wasn't an animal. She trusted him, and saw him as more than the beast he sometimes feared he was. He wouldn’t betray that, no matter how much his body protested.

When the first hints of dawn painted the horizon, he couldn’t stand it any longer. Carefully, he disentangled himself from her, doing his best not to disturb her sleep. He draped his mantle over her before slipping out of the tent into the cold rain.

-----

When she woke, the patter of rain against the canvas was the first thing she noticed. Then the weight of his cloak over her shoulders. She blinked, groggy, and glanced around the empty tent.

“Figures,” she muttered to herself, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Shivering slightly, she wrapped herself tighter in the mantle. It smelled like him, a mix of forest, leather, and something she could only describe as uniquely Bucky. She smiled faintly, shaking her head, and began rummaging through their supplies. He might be gruff and impossible, but he always made sure she was taken care of, and she had to admit she liked it. It didn’t take much to guess where he’d gone, either scouting or standing under a tree somewhere, brooding and keeping watch.

Meanwhile, Bucky stood at the edge of the clearing, soaked to the bone. He barely noticed the cold, his mind was too preoccupied with wrestling his instincts back under control. His claws flexed against the damp bark of a nearby tree, and he exhaled slowly. Her scent still clung to his body, haunting and maddening. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tension to leave his body.

“She’s your teammate, not your mate,” he muttered under his breath, the words as much a reminder as a warning.

But no amount of logic could shake the truth he’d been denying for far too long. She wasn’t just a teammate, not to him. And the more time he spent near her, the harder it became to ignore the pull.

------

Four times.

Four times Bucky had to jerk off and relieve himself before he felt remotely human, or as human as someone like him could feel. By the time he returned to the tent, the rain had lessened, though his damp hair clung to his forehead and his shirtless torso glistened from the early morning mist.

Inside, she was sitting cross-legged with her bag open beside her. She barely looked up when he ducked inside, muttering a gruff, “Morning.”

Her eyes flickered to him, her lips twitching into a half-smile. “Morning. Glad you shifted back; otherwise, the wet dog smell would cling to everything.” She tossed him a magic-infused bun with a wink.

He caught it with ease, biting into it harder than necessary. The faint hum of magic in the pastry soothed his body slightly, though his mind was still frazzled.

She, meanwhile, was doing her best to keep her gaze fixed on his face. The early hour and her half-awake state didn’t help, and her eyes briefly betrayed her, wandering down the lines of his scarred torso. She caught herself quickly, clearing her throat as she focused on his stubbled jaw instead.

“Didn’t sleep last night?” she asked, tilting her head as she studied him.

He almost choked on the bite of the bun. “Why?”

She arched a brow. “Well, the shadows under your eyes and your miserable face give off a certain vibe.”

He scowled, finishing the bun in two quick bites. “If only someone had stayed on her side of the tent instead of tossing around all night,” he muttered.

“Oh, please,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “Next time, I’ll freeze myself in place so you can have a peaceful night.” She reached into her bag, pulling out a small green vial. “Here.”

Bucky wrinkled his nose, glaring at the potion like it had personally offended him. “Those taste like shit.”

“And you look like shit, so…” she replied, thrusting the vial toward him.

With a dramatic groan, he snatched it from her hand, muttering something under his breath about bossy mages.

She smirked, leaning back on her hands as she watched him grimace through the first sip. “You’re welcome,” she said sweetly.

Bucky shot her a withering look, but there was no real heat behind it. He downed the rest of the potion in one go, resisting the urge to spit it out.

“Better?” she asked, her tone laced with amusement.

“No,” he grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. But the faint twitch of his lips gave him away.

-----

“Tell me again why I have to carry the bag with naga thumbs strapped to my waist?” she huffed, launching a frostbolt straight into the face of an approaching murloc.

“Because I don’t want them to rot and start reeking like shit,” Bucky replied, his tone edged with impatience. He swung his sword with brutal efficiency, sending a naga’s head flying in a clean arc. “Just keep them cold and keep moving.”

She rolled her eyes, shifting the grisly sack at her hip as she prepared another spell. “Yes, master. As you wish, master,” she mocked, her voice dripping with exaggerated deference.

“Shut it,” he snapped without looking back, slicing through another naga like it was nothing.

“What’s the matter, master?” she continued, undeterred. “Does your fluffy tummy hurt? Want me to rub it?”

His grip on his sword tightened. No. He wanted her to rub something else, and that was precisely the problem.

He growled low in his throat, shaking off the thought as he tore through another wave of enemies with grim focus. Every word out of her mouth made it harder to concentrate, and the sooner they finished this quest, the better.

For his sanity.

“Focus,” he barked, sending another naga crumpling to the ground.

She smirked but didn’t push further, summoning a frost nova to freeze the remaining enemies in place. “I am focused,” she replied with a smug tone. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

Bucky muttered something under his breath -probably a curse- and powered forward, determined to reach the end of this hellish mission before she drove him completely mad.

-----

"I'm not carrying the head to Stormwind. I'm letting you know right now," she called over her shoulder, crouched in front of the naga commander's treasure chest.

Bucky, still looming near the mangled remains of the commander, huffed. "I figured. It's too heavy for you anyway."

With a sharp crack of bones and the sickening squelch of shifting tendons, he reverted to his human form, standing shorter and more composed but no less intimidating. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting to the familiar but always slightly uncomfortable sensation of transformation.

"Anything useful in there?" he asked, wiping blood and ichor off his blade with a rag.

“Actually, yes,” she replied, holding up two gleaming rings. “Looks like someone left us a caster and a melee ring. Lucky day.”

She tossed the melee ring to him without warning, and he caught it effortlessly with one hand, inspecting the intricate etching along the band.

“Aww, look,” she teased, holding up the caster ring. “They match.”

Bucky squinted at her, his lips twitching as if fighting back a smirk. “Great. Now we can get married and settle down in Kharanos.”

She snorted, slipping the caster ring onto her finger. “You’d last a week before murdering the drunken neighbors.”

He chuckled under his breath, sliding the melee ring onto his own finger. “More like a day. But, we’ll have enough ale even for our grandkids”

The banter lingered between them for a comfortable moment, despite the carnage surrounding them.

“Alright,” she stood and dusted off her hands. “Treasure’s looted, commander’s dead. Let’s get back to Stormwind before this starts to smell real bad, and you get extra cranky because of the sand in your ass.” He gave her a pointed look but didn’t talk back.

“Let’s see,” she muttered, already pulling a small portable mailbox from her enchanted bag to let Steve know that they had completed the quest. She tossed it to the ground, and with a flick of her fingers, it unfolded and hummed to life.

Bucky watched her intently, still coiled with tension from the fight. Every part of him was attuned to her movements, even when he didn’t want them to be.

Her brow furrowed as she scanned the glowing letter that appeared before her. “Well, that’s just perfect,” she said, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“What now?” he growled.

She glanced at him, tossing the letter into the air where it dissolved into sparkling motes of light. “We’ve got another job. Steve wants us to go to Duskwood. The guild bank is low on silver ore, and considering it’s nearby...”

Bucky rolled his eyes, letting out a low growl of irritation. “Of course he does.”

“Hey, at least Duskwood has a proper inn,” she quipped, trying to lighten the mood. “And the people there know the difference between Alliance worgen and the monsters lurking in the woods.”

Bucky wasn’t amused. He should’ve been relieved that Duskwood would be less hostile than Westfall, but all he could think about was the proximity, the enclosed spaces, and how hard it was already becoming to keep his instincts in check.

“I’ll go,” he said gruffly, his tone leaving little room for argument. “You can handle turning in the quest in Stormwind. Those fingers are going to start rotting if we don’t deliver them soon.”

She straightened, quirking an unimpressed brow. “Forgive me, illustrious master, but our guildmaster specifically requested both of us.”

“I don’t need backup for something as simple as mining,” he shot back, irritated. “I can handle a few spiders and ghouls on my own. Just go.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, shifting her as she stood her ground. “What’s with you? You’ve been extra bossy today, and for the record, I don’t take orders from you.”

“It’s not an order,” he growled, though it sounded like one. “It’s common sense. I can get the ore faster on my own, and you won’t have to-”

“What? Slow you down?” she interrupted, sharper now.

“That’s not what I meant.” He objected tiredly.

“Really? Because it sure sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

He stiffened, looking away. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but he couldn’t exactly tell her the truth. How could he explain that every moment they spent together was a battle of willpower? That he could barely breathe the same air without the primal urge to claim her clawing at his insides?

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Look, I get it. You’re used to being the lone wolf -pun very much intended- but we’re a team in this one, and we’re going to Duskwood together. Got it?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, dropping his gaze to the ground. He wanted to argue, to push her away for her own good, but the look in her eyes stopped him, he know it very well. She wasn’t bending.

“Fine,” he ground out, strained. “But don’t slow me down.”

Her lips twitched into a smirk. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As they packed up their supplies and prepared for the journey, Bucky tried to focus on the task ahead, but the tension between them only grew thicker. It was going to be a long trip, and he wasn’t sure if he’d survive it with his sanity intact.

----

The woods were eerily alive tonight, the undergrowth teeming with movement that set her nerves on edge. It was impossible to traverse the area without skirmishing at nearly every turn, and the battered remnants of giant spider corpses littered the path behind them.

“Isn’t it good I came with you?” she asked, flicking a small flame spell at a particularly persistent arthropod. Its charred remains crumpled into ash as she adjusted her grip on her staff.

Bucky grunted in response, non-concomitantly, as he crouched by a silver deposit. He picked effortlessly loosening the ore, and the metal glowed faintly in the dim light filtering through the canopy.

“You’re welcome,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Did you say something?”

“Nope.” She smirked, but her amusement faded quickly as a chill ran down her spine. Her hand tightened on her staff, and she scanned the treeline, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “Uh, Buck…”

“What?” he asked, not bothering to look up. “You finally get tired of spiders?”

“Not exactly.”

Something in her voice made him pause. Straightening, he turned to follow her gaze, and his stomach dropped. Emerging from the shadows was a pack of worgens, their eyes were gleaming with a feral hunger that set his instincts ablaze.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his body shifting almost instinctively. Bones cracked, muscles bulged, and fur erupted as he transformed into his worgen form.

The pack hesitated. He was larger than any of them, and his presence was enough to make a few step back, flattening their ears in uncertainty. But they didn’t retreat. They circled, growling low in their throats, a guttural sound that echoed in the damp night air.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Both sides stood frozen, staring at each other down as if weighing the odds. Low growls and deep, guttural sounds passed between Bucky and the pack, an exchange she couldn’t interpret but that felt loaded with meaning.

She took a cautious step back, and her staff glowed faintly in her hand, though she doubted it would be much use if this went south. “Okay,” she muttered under her breath, “It’s kind of rude, you know. Everyone knows what’s happening but me.”

Bucky didn’t respond, his focus was locked on the pack. He deepened his growl, and the sound reverberated through his chest as his claws flexed at his sides. Whatever language they were speaking, it wasn’t friendly.

She tightened her grip on her staff. “If this is one of those ‘dominance’ things, can we skip to the part where they back down?”

Bucky shot her a brief glance. His glowing eyes were so intense that they sent a shiver through her body. “Stay behind me,” he growled, his voice barely human.

“Oh, believe me, I’m not going anywhere,” she replied, with both sarcasm and genuine unease.

The standoff continued, and the tension was so thick it was almost suffocating. She could feel it in the air, the raw, primal energy radiating from the pack and Bucky himself. She hated to admit it, but even now, amid danger, she couldn’t help but notice the sheer power and command he exuded.

“Any time you want to scare them off would be great,” she quipped nervously, keeping her eyes on the pack.

“I’m working on it,” he rumbled sharply.

The tension in the clearing was suffocating, the pack of worgens circled closer, their growls vibrating threatening in the air. Before she could react, Bucky’s paw encircled her wrist, and he pulled her roughly in front of him.

“W-what?” she gasped, wide-eyed as she looked up at him.

His snout was so close, and his voice was a low, urgent rumble when he asked. “You trust me?”

“Always,” she whispered.

“Alright,” he muttered. Without another word, he leaned down and licked a slow, deliberate stripe along her neck, never breaking his gaze from the pack.

“Buc-” she started, her voice faltering.

“Moan,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“What?”

“Just do it. Like you mean it,” he commanded, tightening his grip slightly on her wrist.

Heat rushed to her cheeks as she let out a soft, breathy sound, tilting her head slightly, while her voice trembled with a mix of nerves and compliance.

The pack hesitated, as they exchanged uneasy glances. Bucky growled low and deep, as his free hand moved to the nape of her neck, guiding her downward on her knees with surprising gentleness for the intensity of the moment.

She frowned. “What are you-”

“Rut season,” he growled under his breath, lips close to her ear. “They want to fuck you, and I’m showing them you’re mine.”

Her stomach dropped, and her breath caught as his words sank into her brain. “Oh my god,” she whispered, half in disbelief.

“So, unless you want some fun with those boys,” he continued, dangerously calm, “you’re going to play along.”

Before she could respond, he pushed her neck lower, bending her slightly as he positioned himself behind her. She could feel the warmth of his body, and the weight of his presence almost overwhelmed her as he pressed closer.

His hand brushed the hem of her robe, lifting it just enough to expose the curve of her thighs. Her breath hitched as she realized what he was doing. She wanted to throw him a dirty joke to decompress, protest, or say something, but the gravity of the situation kept her rooted in place.

Bucky hunched over her, his chest brushing against her back as he growled at the pack, sounding primal and territorial, and -oh light- he started to pound and grind against her. His movements were deliberate, and calculated, mimicking the act with enough realism to leave no doubt in the pack’s minds.

“They don’t see much detail from here,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he panted near her ear. “But it would be wise to show them some… engagement. If you know what I mean.”

The low growls of the pack echoed through the clearing, but they faded into the background as she cast her scruples aside, letting out soft moans and whimpers every time his hips connected with her rear. It was humiliating, sure, but the situation demanded it. Every sound she made seemed to amplify the tension in the air.

Bucky was a storm of barely restrained chaos. Each time their bodies connected, the friction sent a jolt through his body, and it was becoming impossible to ignore the painful erection straining against his pants. He bit back a growl, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the fact that she could feel every inch of his leaking cock pressing against her.

The pack’s growls began to falter, their aggression giving way to hesitation. But Bucky’s protective instincts burned hotter. The violent intent in their stares toward his mage had his blood boiling. He wanted to tear them, to rip them apart for daring to covet what wasn’t theirs.

And yet, another fire was burning in him, one far more dangerous.

The charade, though necessary, was pushing him to his limit. Her body pressed against his, her soft sounds filling the air, and the scent of her arousal cutting through the damp forest air, it was killing him.

Oh, he noticed.

He noticed how her movements became less stiff, how her breaths quickened with something more than nerves, and how the sounds escaping her lips grew more authentic and less forced.

And she noticed too.

The undeniable hardness grinding and slapping against her clothed pussy was impossible to ignore, and she hated the way her body reacted. Her cheeks burned with the realization of the slickness beginning to gather between her thighs. And worse, she knew he could smell it.

Bucky flexed his claws at her waist, tightening his grip momentarily as a low growl rumbled in his chest. “That’s it,” he murmured darkly but oddly reassuring. “Just a little longer. They’re starting to get the message.”

Bucky inhaled deeply, and his eyes fluttered shut momentarily as her scent overwhelmed him. When he opened them again, they were sharp, glowing faintly in the dim light of the forest. His voice was strained, low, and almost trembling with the effort it took to speak clearly.

“Listen,” he panted, each word carrying the weight of his struggle. “These bastards are going to retreat, and when they do… I need you to cast Frost Nova. On me. And run.”

“What?” she gasped, twisting slightly to look back at him. “Are you insane? I’m not doing that!”

His grip on her waist tightened, claws grazing her robes but not piercing. His jaw clenched as he forced himself to speak through the haze clouding his mind. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t trust myself right now. All I can think about is ripping off that damn underwear and stop this charade.”

Her breath hitched at his words, and her cheeks heated anew.

“But Bucky-” she began, unsure.

“By the Light, woman,” he growled, cutting her off, “Can’t you, just once, do what I say without questioning me?”

The desperation in his voice was unmistakable now, and she froze, torn between the rising fear of what he might do and the unwavering trust she’d always had in him. Her lips pressed into a thin line as her mind raced.

“Alright,” she said finally, not sounding very convinced.

His response was a guttural snarl, but the tension in his body eased, just slightly. “I’ll be fine,” he bit out, though the way his claws flexed told her he was barely holding himself together.

The pack lingered, their yellowed eyes glinted with hesitation as Bucky’s sharp, murderous gaze bore into them. Every roll of his hips against her, every growl rumbling in his chest, was a clear message: she was his, and they had no claim here.

He let out a guttural snarl of finality, slowing his movements until he stopped, and she played along, meowling and whimpering in reaction to his fake release. He leaned forward, almost covering her body entirely with his, growling more menacing than ever before.

Eventually, the tension broke as the pack, deterred by his dominance, slunk back into the shadows of the woods.

After a couple of minutes that seemed like an eternity, he reluctantly moved backward. “Do it,” he commanded, edged with desperation.

For a moment, she froze. She could feel his body trembling against hers, not just from exertion but from the monumental effort it took for him to hold himself back. His claws dug slightly into her sides, not enough to hurt but enough to remind her of how close he was to losing control.

“Now,” he barked, sharp and low.

Swallowing hard, she pushed herself away from him, forcing herself not to look back. With a quick flick of her wrist, she channeled her magic, releasing a Frost Nova that erupted in a ring of ice around him. The spell worked instantly, freezing his limbs in place and rooting him to the forest floor.

Her chest ached as she heard the muffled sound of his growl, laced with frustration, and something else. She forced herself to run, her boots pounding against the uneven ground as she headed toward the road.

Behind her, the crackling sound of ice straining against immense strength echoed faintly. She didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

-----

Maybe telling her to run hadn’t been the most clever idea his clouded mind could come up with. Because now, all he could think about was the chase… and the prize.

Her scent clung to his fur, sweet and maddening, filling his lungs and clouding what little rationality he had left. Each breath only made it worse, feeding the primal hunger gnawing at his control. His aching cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat, every pulse a painful reminder of how badly he needed her.

Something in him snapped.

The ice encasing his limbs cracked audibly before shattering altogether, shards scattering across the forest floor. With a guttural roar, Bucky surged forward, his massive form blurring as he gave in to the chase.

His mind, already teetering on the edge, gave itself over to instinct. Each pounding stride brought him closer to her, his muscles coiling and releasing with terrifying precision. He could smell her panic mixed with something else, something intoxicating. It made his mouth water, his claws flex, and his cock twitch with unrelenting need.

She ran as fast as she could, her robes fluttered as she darted between trees and over roots. But she wasn’t fast enough.

Bucky leaped, the world narrowing to a single focus: her. The thrill of the hunt consumed him, but it wasn’t just the chase, it was the promise of catching her, of claiming what every fiber of his body screamed belonged to him.

----

Her steps began to falter as she reached the road, her breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. She bent over, hands braced on her knees, trying to recover. She wasn’t built for this kind of thing. She was a mage, for Light’s sake, spellcasting was her forte, not sprinting through a forest or other physical strain.

That’s what she had Bucky for.

Bucky, who would roll his eyes and toss her over his shoulder like a caveman whenever she whined about being too tired to walk.

Bucky, who would scout ahead for the easiest path even though he could tear through any terrain in his worgen form without a second thought.

Bucky, who hunted and butchered their meals with efficiency, ensuring they ate more than stale bread and questionable stew on their travels.

Bucky, who wanted to fuck her.

Her cheeks burned as that particular thought. Not that she hadn’t thought about it before, because she had. Maybe too often for her own good. The idea of him and his hands on her, his low, gravelly voice saying her name in that way that sent a shiver down her spine.

But not like this.

Not the furry kind of fuck.

She straightened, forcing herself to keep moving toward the town. Each step felt like it was taking her further from the chaotic heat of the encounter in the woods, but her mind couldn’t stop replaying the way he’d looked at her: possessive, dangerous, hungry.

And if she was being honest with herself, a small part of her didn’t entirely mind that look.

She almost tripped and cursed, adjusting her robes and glaring down at their impractical hem. Maybe it was time to ditch the flowing fabric and invest in some pants like a sensible person. To hell with Khadgar and his fashionable mage aesthetic. She let out a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand through her hair as she walked. All she needed was to reach the inn, find a stiff drink, and put this insanity behind her.

Oh, but she wasn’t going to make it.

The big, bad, and sexually frustrated wolf had been prowling alongside her, concealed by the thicket, his predatory instincts zeroed in on every step she took. She’d barely made it four more paces down the stone road before her vision blurred with sudden movement.

The next thing she knew, she was pinned.

Her back was pressed against the rough bark of a tree, and in front of her was Bucky. Human, barely. His chest heaved, his shirt torn and clinging to his sweat-dampened skin. He was panting, feral, utterly undone.

Her breath hitched as her eyes raked over him, and before she could stop herself, her thighs pressed together to ease the tingling ache his mere presence provoked.

“H-hey, Buck,” she croaked, her voice trembling under the weight of his stare. “I guess the nova wasn’t to your liking?”

His lips curled into something between a snarl and a smirk, and his gaze dropped to her lips before sliding back to meet her eyes. “Did you really think that would stop me?” His voice was low, rough, vibrating with barely contained hunger.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. “Well according to you, it was supposed to give me a head start.”

He huffed a breathless laugh, his hands braced on either side of her head against the tree. “I guess I subconsciously knew damn well I’d catch you. Since, you know, your stamina sucks”

Her cheeks flushed hot, and her heart hammered in her chest as she struggled to keep her composure. “Yeah, well... there was the possibility that maybe the spell cooled you off.”

“Cool off?” He leaned in, brushing his nose against her temple, dropping his voice into a growl. “You’re the one who’s been driving me insane, running around smelling like... that.”

“Like what?” she whispered, even as she already knew the answer.

“Like you want me to lose control,” he murmured, his lips just barely grazing her ear.

Her traitorous body shivered at his words.

“Would that… be that bad?” she whispered, barely able to get the words out.

His entire body went rigid, curling his hands into fists against the tree bark. A growl rumbled low in his chest, vibrating between them like a warning. Or a promise.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he ground out against her skin.

She tilted her head slightly, forcing herself to meet his burning gaze. “Maybe I do.”

Bucky’s nostrils flared, and he clenched his jaw as if he were fighting an invisible battle within himself. The tension between them crackled like a live wire, and she couldn’t tell if the heat pooling in her belly was from fear, desire, or both.

“Don’t,” he rasped, strained. “Don’t tempt me like that.”

Her lips parted, letting go a soft exhale as she felt the weight of his words. Still, she couldn’t stop herself. “And if I did?”

He snarled, closing the faint distance separating them. His forehead dropped to hers, and his ragged breathing mixed with hers. “Then I’ll show you just how dangerous I can be.”

The words sent a jolt of adrenaline and something far darker coursing through her veins. She swallowed thickly, and her heart hammered against her ribs as she whispered, “Maybe I’m not afraid of danger.”

Bucky’s eyes searched hers, his pupils were blown wide, a thin ring of blue around a sea of black. His lips hovered over hers, so close she could feel the ghost of his breath.

“I don’t know if I can stop,” he admitted.

“Then don’t,” she replied steady, despite the quiver in her knees.

Bucky didn’t move for a heartbeat, his body trembled as he fought his instincts. The moment stretched, before something inside him finally snapped.

His lips crashed against hers, hard and demanding, as though trying to express everything he couldn’t say. She gasped into the kiss, her fingers instinctively tangling in the ragged fabric of his shirt and his long locks, pulling him closer despite the warning alarms blaring in her mind.

His hands moved to her waist, rough and possessive, as though afraid she might slip away. The kiss was a clash of tongues and teeth, raw and unrestrained, but it wasn’t enough, not for him.

He broke away, panting heavily, roaming his gaze over her heated face. “You don’t know what you’ve started,” he growled, low and thick with need.

Her lips tingled, swollen from the force of his kiss. Her fingers trailed up to touch them as her mind spun. “Well Buck, I’m not sure I care,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

His expression darkened, and his body pressed her back against the tree. “Say that again,” he demanded, his tone more animal than man.

She met his gaze, and her stubborn streak flared. “I said, I don’t care, Bucky.”

He let out a sound that was somewhere between a snarl and a groan, and his hands moved to cup her face with surprising gentleness despite the storm raging inside him. “You’re going to drive me insane,” he murmured, brushing her lips with unexpected tenderness.

Her body ached at the contrast, of the softness of his touch against the raw hunger in his voice. She shivered again, and he didn’t miss it.

With a low growl in his throat, Bucky pressed one of his thick thighs between her legs, dragging against the sensitive spot that was already aching for attention. She gasped sharply, and her hands flew to grip his shoulders for balance, but before she could say anything, his hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back to expose the vulnerable curve of her neck.

His lips were on her a heartbeat later, hot and unrelenting as they trailed along her skin, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses and nips that made her shudder. The scrape of his teeth sent sparks down her spine, and when he growled again, the sound vibrated against her throat and she couldn’t stop the moan that spilled from her lips.

The sound seemed to set something off in him. His thigh pressed harder against her, sending jolts of pleasure as her body instinctively rolled against him. She felt the heat pooling low in her belly, and her mind was a blur of sensation and need.

“Bucky,” she breathed, with a trembling voice.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her gaze, “Say my name like that again,” he commanded, in a rough whisper that made her knees weak.

“Bucky,” she whispered.

His hands tightened on her hips, holding her firmly against him as he leaned in to capture her lips once more. It was messy, desperate, and so consuming that she felt like she was drowning in him, in his scent, in his heat, in his presence.

When he finally pulled back, it was only to grab the front of her robe and tear it apart with a single, feral motion.

“Hey!” she protested, instinctively trying to cover herself.

“You didn’t like it anyway,” he retorted, dark amusement lacing his tone as he tossed the tattered fabric aside.

Her protest died on her lips when his hand moved lower, hooking into her underwear. “And I don’t like these,” he added, low and rough as he shredded the delicate material without hesitation.

Her cheeks flushed with heat as she stood bare before him, and his predatory gaze raked over intently, his expression darkening further when he finally saw the evidence of what he’d only smelled before, the glistening slick between her thighs.

“So damn wet,” he growled. Without preamble, two fingers slipped between her folds, sliding through the slickness before finding her clit.

Her body jerked at the contact, a whine escaping her lips as his touch sent a jolt of pleasure straight through her body. He didn’t hold back, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with calculated precision, his rough fingertips adding just the right amount of friction to make her toes curl.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful admiration as he watched her reactions. She was utterly pliant beneath his touch, resting her head back against the tree, lips parted while gasping softly. “So perfect like this.”

She could barely form a response as he kept up his relentless ministrations. Her hands shot out, clutching at his shoulders for balance as her legs trembled under the onslaught of sensation.

“Fuck, Bucky.” she panted, her voice shaky and desperate, as his fingers continued their slow, devastating circles over her clit and her hips moved involuntarily against his hand, seeking more of the friction he was so generously giving her.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, laced with a possessive edge. He leaned in, and his lips brushed against the shell of her ear when he finally buried his fingers inside her. “You feel how good this is? How good you’re gonna feel when I’m finally inside you?”

Her knees buckled at the promise in his voice, and his grip tightened, holding her steady as he continued his ministrations.

His lips trailed along the sensitive column of her neck, and his teeth grazed her skin before he bit down gently.

Her nails clawed at his shoulders and biceps as his fingers worked her relentlessly, curling just right to hit the spot that made her vision blur. “Fuck!” she gasped.

“Feel so good, don’t you?” he murmured against her skin, as his thumb kept circling her clit with maddening precision. “So damn wet for me, and I’ve barely started.”

Her hips moved in tandem with his hand, grinding against him as if she couldn’t get close enough. Every thrust and curl of his fingers, every swirl of his thumb sent waves of pleasure through her body and she was about to snap.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned again, and her head lolled back as he continued to mark her neck. She was completely at his mercy, and her body trembled, as the heat built low in her stomach, threatening to unravel her completely.

“Chase it,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with her. “You’ll be so fucking beautiful when you let go.” His words were her undoing. Her body arched, and a sharp cry left her lips as she shattered, clenching around his fingers as the pleasure crashed over her like a wave.

Bucky didn’t ease up, and his fingers continued their relentless pace, driving her deeper into a haze of pleasure. She squirmed, pushing at his chest in a feeble attempt to stop him, but he didn’t budge. His other hand gripped her hip firmly, pinning her against the tree.

“Bucky,” she whined, her voice breathless and trembling, “I… I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, with authority. “And you will. I’m not done with you yet.”

She gasped as he slid a third finger inside her, stretching her further. The sensation was overwhelming, but it teetered dangerously close to pure bliss. His thumb continued its torment on her clit, and her thighs shook as another wave of heat coiled low in her belly.

“That’s it,” he rumbled, his lips brushing against her ear. “I want you ready to take all of me, sweetheart. You’re mine, and I will make sure you know it.”

“Oh, cocky, aren’t we?” she tried to quip, but her voice shook as she clung to the last shred of control she had left.

His deep chuckle vibrated against her skin, “Yeah,” he retorted, his lips curling into a feral grin. “Cocky, indeed.”

Her response was lost in a breathless moan as he curved his fingers again, finding that perfect spot and sending sparks shooting through her body. She couldn’t think or do anything but cling to him as he worked her over with ruthless precision.

Bucky’s blue eyes bore into hers, feral and wild, “Come on,” he murmured, low and commanding. “Give me another one. Show me how good you can be for me.”

Her body betrayed her completely, tightening around his fingers as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge once more. His relentless dominance was intoxicating, and she hated how much she wanted to fall apart for him all over again.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she whined, “or I swear I’ll put bubblegum on your tail the first chance I get.”

Her body trembled violently as her climax tore through her, making her see stars. It was the most intense release she’d ever felt, and it left her gasping for air, every muscle in her body turning into jelly.

Bucky chuckled, clearly satisfied with the way she fell apart under his touch. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, glistening with her slick, and without warning, brought them to her lips.

“Open,” he commanded, in a rough growl.

Her dazed eyes blinked up at him, but she obeyed, parting her lips. He pressed his fingers onto her tongue, making her taste herself. Before she could process it further, he leaned and crashed his mouth against hers.

He licked at her lips, her tongue, and his own fingers still in her mouth, mingling their breaths in a way that felt so filthy and erotic that it made her head spin.

His other hand cradled the back of her head, keeping her in place as he deepened the kiss, his feral nature showing in the raw hunger with which he devoured her.

When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen and slick, and her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. Bucky’s blue gaze glowed with pride and desire, and his mouth curled into a wicked smirk.

“You taste so damn good,” he murmured, thick with arousal. “Every part of you.”

Unable to hold back any longer, he fumbled with his belt and nearly tore his pants apart to free his throbbing, leaking cock. A guttural groan escaped from his throat as the cool air hit his heated length.

His glowing eyes locked on hers, filled with feral hunger. “And now, magic bun,” he rasped, “I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk… and then some more.”

With one hand, he gripped the back of her knee, lifting her leg to spread her wide. The other wrapped firmly around the base of his shaft, guiding it between her slick folds. He groaned low and deep as the head of his cock pressed against her clit, grinding teasingly against her sensitive bundle of nerves.

She gasped, and her head fell back against the tree as the tantalizing friction sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body. “Bucky…” she breathed half a plea, half a warning.

“Patience.” he growled. Slowly, torturously, he began to push forward, as the thick head of his cock stretched her inch by inch.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, and her breath hitched as he split her open, his size forcing her body to adjust to the overwhelming intrusion. He paused briefly, giving her time to catch up, though his trembling muscles betrayed how much restraint it was costing him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against the tree as he sank deeper. “So tight, so perfect.” He lifted her other leg from behind her knee and pushed again.

She whimpered, rolling her hips instinctively to meet him, drawing a shuddering growl from his chest. Her body stretched and molded around him, every nerve alight with pleasure and the intoxicating mix of pain and anticipation. Her breath came in short, heated bursts as her lips sought out his stubbled jaw, lingering before she nipped at his skin. It was soft but enough to provoke, enough to draw a growl from deep within his chest.

"Keep going, big guy," she whispered, her voice husky and laced with a mix of daring and need.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he rasped, “Once I start, there’s no stopping.”

Her hands slid up his chest, grazing the muscles beneath his shirt with her nails. “Good,” she breathed, “because I wasn’t planning on stopping you.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. With a guttural sound, Bucky thrust forward, stretching her inch by maddening inch. He kept his eyes locked on hers, watching the way her lips parted in a gasp, her pupils blown wide with pleasure.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his voice a broken growl as he sank deeper, claiming her completely. Her nails dug into his skin as her body arched against him, and a soft cry escaped her lips.

He rolled his hips again, slow but deliberate. “You feel that? That’s all me, and I’m not stopping until I’ve emptied my balls inside you, magic bun."

The vulgar promise sent a new wave of heat through her body. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as her body clenched around him in response.

“You talk a big game,” she managed to tease, the faintest smirk curling her lips despite the haze of pleasure overwhelming her.

Bucky chuckled darkly, “Oh, you’ll see just how big.” he growled, snapping his hips forward sharply, drawing a gasping cry from her.

He didn’t give her a chance to recover, since his movements became relentless in a punishing rhythm that was intoxicating. Every thrust pushed her higher, her moans grew louder, unrestrained, as his words and actions blurred her ability to think of anything but him.

"That’s it," he murmured against her ear, his voice ragged. "Take me. Take every damn inch."

His pace grew rougher, more determined as if his life depended on claiming her body completely. Each thrust drove her harder against the tree, and every delicious drag of him against her sensitive walls made her body sing.

“God, you’re tight,” he groaned, his lips brushed against her ear. “Like you were made for me. Do you feel that? Feel how perfectly I fit inside you?”

“Y-yeah, I feel it,” she stammered, her voice trembling with pleasure.

“You’re gonna take everything I give you,” he continued, his voice dripping with feral hunger. “Every. Last. Drop.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust, making her cry out in ecstasy.

Her nails scraped down his back, leaving marks that only spurred him on. “Bucky! oh, fuck… I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, gripping her hips tighter. “You’ll take it, every inch, every load, until you’re dripping with me. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

She could only whimper in response, her head falling back as he angled his hips just right, hitting that perfect spot that made her see stars. Her body tensed, the overwhelming pleasure building to a breaking point. “Bucky, I’m gonna- oh!”

“That’s it, cum for me,” he commanded, “Squeeze me, magic bun. Milk my fucking cock!” he growled, his voice rough and ragged as he felt her clenching around him. He could feel his balls tightening dangerously, and with a guttural roar, he drove into her one final time.

“Fuck! Just. Fuck,” he groaned, his hips jerking uncontrollably as he spilled inside her, thick, hot ropes of cum filling her up while he panted against her neck.

Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, and her legs shook as he held her up against the tree, keeping her pinned as he emptied himself into her.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, resting his forehead against hers, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

She gave a breathless laugh, still shaky. “There goes your endurance”

He smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to her lips. “Don’t think we’re done, though,” he murmured, sliding down his hands to cup her ass. “Not until I’m sure you’ll feel me with every step tomorrow.”

"Bucky-" she started, but he pulled out his still-hard cock and gently set her down, immediately latching his mouth onto one of her neglected breasts. His teeth grazed her sensitive skin as he sucked and nipped, leaving her gasping.

“Oh, how many times did I imagine milking these,” he murmured against her flesh, his voice thick with want.

She quirked a brow at him, managing to ask between pants and squeals when he got rough. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” he growled, squeezing both breasts with his large hands to make his point. “Every fucking time we shared a tent and you pressed them against me in your sleep. You have no idea what you did to me.”

She let out a sharp gasp, caught somewhere between indignation and arousal. “You creep! Ah!”

He chuckled, flicking his tongue over her hardened nipple. “I’m not a saint, but believe me when I tell you, another man wouldn’t have held back. They’d have taken advantage.”

Her fingers wove into his long, dark locks, an unexpectedly tender gesture despite the heated moment. She tilted his face up slightly, meeting his gaze. “I know. But you’re not just ‘another man.’ You’re my partner, and since our first quest, I’ve always known I was safe with you. Grumpiness and brooding aside... you’re the best.”

His movements stilled for a moment, then he pressed his forehead against her chest, brushing his lips in the swell of her breast as he exhaled deeply. “You don’t know how much that means to me,” he admitted, raw and almost vulnerable.

She smiled, scratching lightly at his scalp. “You don’t make it easy, but you’re worth it, Barnes.”

His blue eyes flicked up to hers. “I don’t deserve you,” he muttered, still exploring her body with his hands, tracing every curve.

“Not the time for the monthly self-loathing spiral.” she chastised. Her hand slid down his chest, fingers dancing over the hard ridges of his abs before continuing lower. When her fingers encircled his shaft -or at least tried to-she began to pump him slowly.

His breath hitched, sharp, and audible, and his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. “Don’t,” he ground out, his voice rough and almost desperate.

She knit her brows, confused. “Why not?”

He kept his grip firm, clenching his jaw as he averted his gaze, with a flushed face. “Now’s not a good time,” he muttered. “Maybe... maybe when I’m not rutting.”

Her head tilted slightly, studying him. “What’s the difference?”

His grip on her wrist tightened just slightly, and his eyes flicked back to hers with a mix of restraint and frustration. “If I get too... invested,” he admitted, almost growling, “I’m going to shift.”

“Oh.” Her lips parted to say something, but she hesitated, caught between curiosity and concern.

“It’s not just about me losing control,” he added, almost hesitant. “If I shift mid-act, it’s... it’s a lot. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her gaze softened, and she cupped his face with her free hand. “Bucky, you’ve never hurt me,” she said gently. “And I don’t believe you ever would.”

He leaned into her touch for a moment, exhaling heavily.

“I won’t let you get away with what you want as always. Not with this.”

“But-”

“Shut it,” he growled, cutting her off as he turned her around and manhandled her to the ground on her hands and knees, his discarded cloak softening her landing. His voice dropped into a commanding snarl, rough and dangerous. “Now I’m going to keep getting what I want, and you will take it.” He spread her thighs open with his knee. “You’re only going to open that pretty mouth of yours to moan or cry out my name.”

“Bossy now, aren’t w-” she began, sassy, but she didn’t get the chance to finish. His hand came down on her ass with a loud, stinging smack, making her gasp.

“You just had to insist on being a brat and coming with me,” he hissed, his lips close to her ear, his voice dripping with frustration and unbridled heat. “And then I had to fake fucking you in front of a bunch of horny bastards.”

His hand kneaded the spot he had smacked, “Now, magic bun, you’re going to pay for every second of that torture.” His hands gripped her hips possessively, dragging her back against him, pressing his leaking cock into her ass.

“You think I didn’t notice?” he muttered darkly, sliding a hand down between her legs “You’ve been soaking since that little show.” He pressed his fingers against her pussy. “This? This is all mine.” He growled and pressed the thick head of his cock against her entrance, already slick from his cum and her fresh wave of arousal. Without hesitation, he thrust inside her, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful motion. She cried out, arching her back as she adjusted to the sudden, overwhelming fullness.

He groaned, “So perfect, magic bun. Taking me so well.”

Her fingers dug into the cloak beneath her, and her breathing ragged as her body tried to accommodate his size. “Fuck...” she gasped, a mix of protest and pleasure.

He leaned over her, pressing his chest against her back as his lips found her shoulder. He nipped at her skin, sharp enough to leave marks, each bite sending a jolt of electricity through her already overstimulated body.

“Bucky,” she moaned, her arms trembling as she tried to hold herself up under the force of his thrusts.

“Don’t stop saying my name,” he demanded roughly against her ear. His hips snapped forward harder, and his cock hit that perfect spot inside her with every hard thrust.

She whimpered, dropping her head forward as her body surrendered completely to him. He growled approvingly, sinking his teeth gently into her shoulder before licking the sting away.

“You’re mine,” he rumbled as he drove into her relentlessly. “Say it.”

“I- I’m yours,” she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper, but he heard her loud and clear.

“Yes, so damn mine,” His hand slid up her spine, possessively fisting her hair and pulling her head back. The exposed line of her throat and shoulders was too tempting to resist, and he sank his teeth into her skin again, marking her.

The wet slap of his balls against her clit grew louder, mingling with her breathless cries and his guttural groans, creating a symphony of pure, unrestrained need that echoed through the forest.

“Buck, y-you’re so deep,” she choked out, clawing her fingers at his discarded cloak for stability.

He chuckled darkly against her skin. “Deeper still, magic bun,” he rasped, his voice filled with raw determination. “I want to feel your womb kissing the head of my cock.”

He withdrew almost entirely, leaving her desperate and trembling, only to thrust back in with a force that had her crying out. His pace quickened, each stroke harder and more deliberate than the last, pushing her toward the edge of sanity.

Her walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, and he cursed under his breath, the sensation driving him wild. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled, his free hand gripping her hip so tightly she was sure it would leave bruises. “Made for me, made for this”

She moaned, arching her body, her knees threatening to give out under the relentless pleasure, as her body rocked with every thrust. He let go of her hair and reached down to play with her swollen clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “Take it,” he growled, dark and commanding. “You’re gonna carry me,” he murmured, thrusting harder. “Gonna fuck you so full you won’t have room for anything else. My scent, my seed, on you, in you, everywhere.”

“Oh, fuck, Bucky,” she whimpered, her thighs quivering as she clenched around him, her body responding instinctively to his filthy promises.

She meowled, and her body responded with another involuntary squeeze around his cock. He groaned, the pressure almost undoing him. “That’s it,” he hissed while his pace grew erratic. “Gonna breed you, leave you dripping for everyone to see. “You want it, don’t you?” he rasped, circling her clit faster. “Say it. Tell me you want me to fill you up.”

“I-I want it,” she gasped, the words barely leaving her lips before another sharp thrust sent her spiraling.

He groaned as her walls pulsed around him, and he buried himself to the hilt. “Fuck!,” he growled, as his cock twitched inside her. “You’re gonna take it all. Every last drop. No one else gets to have you, just me.”

The orgasm hit him like a storm, spilling thick ropes of cum into her, the heat of his load making her whimper. He thrust a few more times, grinding deep as if determined to leave no part of her untouched.

His movements slowed, then stilled, and he remained buried inside her for a moment, his chest rising and falling against her back until he finally withdrew, groaning softly at the loss of her warmth. He pulled her down gently onto his discarded cloak, spooning behind her. The feral aggression that had consumed him moments before seemed to melt away, leaving behind a calmer, more satisfied version of himself.

“You alright?” he murmured, softer now as he brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. His hands smoothed over her sides, no longer gripping bruisingly but exploring her curves with a reverence that made her sigh.

“I’m fine,” she replied, still breathless. “But you are totally carrying me tomorrow in a piggyback. I don’t feel my legs.”

His lips twitched into a small, self-satisfied smile. “That was the idea, your limbs around me, where they belong.”

She rolled her eyes and snuggled her back closer to the warmth of his broad chest. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And you didn’t escape,” he retorted, nipping playfully at her ear.

“Maybe I’m a sucker for punishment,” she quipped, tracing the lines of his forearm where it rested around her waist. “Or maybe I just enjoy being with the guy who acts like a beast but is actually pretty damn sweet when he’s not trying to prove a point.”

He huffed a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Sweet, huh? Pretty sure I wasn’t ‘sweet’ a few minutes ago.”

“No, you were something else entirely,” she teased, turning to meet his gaze with a sly smile. ��But don’t let it go to your head, big guy.”

Bucky inhaled deeply and buried his nose in the crook of her neck. His hands slid up her side to cup her breast, his rough palm was gentler now as he thumbed over her sensitive nipple. He sighed, utterly sated yet still unwilling to let her go.

“We’ll need the tent,” he murmured and the deep rumble of his voice vibrated against her skin. “We’re not making it to the inn.”

She groaned, grimacing at the thought of wrestling with the cursed contraption in her current state. “Ugh, the tent. Can’t we just sleep out here and hope nothing eats us?”

Bucky chuckled with a low and indulgent sound. As if he’d read her mind, he nipped her shoulder, eliciting a squeak from her mouth. “You’re going to lay there looking pretty, and I’m going to set it up,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

She turned her head to shoot him a skeptical look. “Oh, so you’re all chivalrous now?”

He smirked, brushing his lips against her ear as he spoke. “Don’t push your luck, I’m trying to be nice here.” he muttered, adjusting the cloak around her shoulders as if she couldn’t do it herself. “Since I plan on fucking you again -and maybe a few more times after that- I’d rather you didn’t catch a cold. Also…” His gaze lingered pointedly on her chest. “I don’t want some random traveler getting an eyeful of your bouncing tits.”

She quirked a brow. “Funny, you didn’t seem to care about modesty a few minutes ago.”

He crouched down beside her, tugging the edges of the cloak higher over her chest as he gave her an unimpressed look. “Yeah, well, that was different. I was the one enjoying the view. No one else gets to.”

Her smile widened as she brushed her hand over his stubbled jaw. “Possessive much?”

He just stared at her, leaning down to kiss her, slow and deliberate, as if to remind her exactly who she belonged to. When he pulled back, his lips brushed against her cheek, and he nuzzled her affectionately. “Be good for once and stay put. I’ll set up the tent.”

“Oh, I’ll stay put,” she said with a mischievous lilt, shamelessly traveling her gaze down his naked body. “Enjoying the view.”

He rolled his eyes, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. He liked her looking at him like that, and she knew it. He made no effort to hide the way his muscles flexed as he moved, taking every chance to show off while setting up the tent.

“Really taking your time there, huh, big guy?” she teased.

“Maybe I am,” he shot back, giving her a knowing glance over his shoulder. “If you’re going to stare, I might as well make it worth your while.”

She laughed as she propped up on her elbows to get a better view. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just admiring your… big dedication to the task.”

He shook his head as he secured the last of the tent’s poles. “Come on,” he invited, holding a hand out to her. “Tent’s ready. Let’s see if its sturdy enough for my big dedication.” His smirk widened into a full-blown grin, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.

“Always so humble, Buck.” she observed, slipping her hand into his and letting him pull her up.

“Just calling it like it is,” he shot back, pulling her closer until their bodies nearly touched. “And judging by your staring, I’d say you agree.”

She opened her mouth to quip but then paused, frowning. “Um, Buck… by any chance did you bring the sack with the silver or…?”

His confident smirk faltered as his brows knit together. “Of course I-” He stopped mid-sentence, glancing toward the forest, and his expression shifted from cocky to sheepish. “I was a little preoccupied,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Steve will love this.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, stepping closer until he loomed over her. “You think I care about what Steve thinks right now?”

She arched a brow, dropping her gaze lower. “Well, considering you’re standing here without a stitch of clothing and no silver in sight… maybe not.”

His lips curled into a slow, predatory smirk as he took her hand, placing it boldly against his hard cock. “You tell me, magic bun. Does this look like it cares about Steve, silver, or his damn surprise quests?”

Her cheeks heated as her fingers instinctively curled around him. She swallowed hard. “No, it doesn’t” she managed,

He growled, leaning down to nip at her bottom lip. “Now, get in that tent before I lose what little patience I have left.”

Her lips quirked, but she wisely said nothing, turning toward the tent with a sway in her hips that she knew he wouldn’t miss. Behind her, he groaned, with both exasperation and lust.

“Keep that up, magic bun, and we won’t make it inside at all.”

Dividers by: @/strangergraphics

[lustlovehart]

Angst Idea with the formerly human Monster!Twst cast where they realize if they didn’t end up the way they are right now, maybe they could’ve pursued a romance with you. It would’ve been acceptable, and… they could shower you with affection the way you deserve.

But they can’t. Not anymore. If only they were still human… Perhaps they could lean into you without feeling unworthy.

Pairing: Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Trey, Leona, Kalim, Epel x Reader

Warnings: Small Rollo x Reader, Slight hint of possession, A little angsty, talks of marriage, Attempted biting, Blood, mentions of Death, Little cheesy, Limb stitching, Indirect kissing

Riddle who lets his cold hands ghost over you while you sleep. He knows you said he could always sleep next to you, you wouldn’t mind… you never do. Yet, there’s an intense feeling of shame. He thinks it’s his head acting as if his mom is reprimanding him for such scandalous behavior. But then you shoot up from your sleep and look at him, goosebumps coating your skin.

No, it’s not due to his mom's hold on him. It’s simply because you’re human and he’s not.

“Riddle? I told you if you want to lay here you—”

“It’s okay. I don’t need to.” he retracts his apparitional hand, floating away in a daze. If only you saved him with your light when he was human… too bad, it’s too late for that.

A blanket is thrown at him as if it were an arrow, the cover phasing through his body. He turns around in confusion at the sudden abrupt assault, should he… reprimand you for the mess?

“You’re cold, aren’t you?” A very… self answering question with an obvious answer. Yet, he can’t seem to correct you on the mistake. He’s quiet for a moment, looking at you from the shadows. From your perspective, all you see is a glowing Riddle illuminating the shadows.

“Well… yes.” He watches you shift off the bed, the mattress compressing under your weight. He wonders if your question is genuine, and if you’re really asking if he’s cold. Shouldn’t someone in your profession know these things?

But then, he remembers your true goal. Is this when you send him off? If it is, he thinks he’s ready.

He shuts his eyes, ready for the familiar pain, but he’s greeted with something soft. Your hand phases through his face, acting like his skin is solid at the moment (he wishes it was), your thumb rubbing his cheek.

“Then, you should be in bed.” If only, he was still human.

Ace who watches you play with a kids toy, your head lazily rested on his shoulder. The scene is so… Mundane, domestic. Entirely unlike the life, he’s been living in the… well not living. He isn’t talking, he isn’t silently joking with you like typical. He only stares. You look up and you swear this is the most alive he’s looked, and it’s ironic because it’s the deadest his face has ever been. Yet, this vacant expression is so mortal, so full.

“What? Did you die a second time—? Ace, what are you…?” The way his partly exposed face rests on your forehead is… an interesting feeling to say the least. You’ve never touched human bone, so it’s a bit unnerving… The contrast of his cool skin on yours is a further reminder of just how far the both of you are in life.

He’s cold, and you’re very much the opposite. Warm.

You won’t ever notice the silent words in his decaying brain. In truth, he wished some higher power would let his thoughts reach your mind, but then again, there’s no brain in his head anymore.

I wish you met me when I was alive. He moves his head back, the confusion on you making it obvious it didn’t work, obviously.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Oh, wait… is it cuz you’re a human without a brain?” You pinch his cheek in response, his protests and hisses of pain filling the silent atmosphere.

Deuce who feels the most need to be human when you’re vulnerable. He hides behind the trunk of a tree as he listens to you mumble about NRF. He listens when you complain about Crowley, yet can’t help but wonder how he’s doing. He listens when you talk about missing Rollo's specialized flower bouquets he would give you. He listens when you talk about wishing to laugh again while you sit on Jack's back as he does push-ups. It isn’t long before you’re silent.

He’ll finally moves away from his hidden spot, sitting down next to you. The soft breathing tells him you must’ve fallen asleep. His hand reaches out to your tear-stained face, leaning the part of his head still covered in skin. His cheek touches yours, akin to the way animals nuzzle each other.

“Deuce…” he wonders if you’re still awake, or if you’re dreaming about him. He hopes it’s the later, but if it’s not, he won’t blame you.

“I’m… Here.” His arms wrap around you, furthering the embrace even more. He avoids letting his bones touch you, it’s gross, it must be. He doesn’t want to disgust you. But he can’t help from deepening the skin-ship you share while your faces touch.

In a way, he’s attempting to transfer your pain to himself, but no matter how hard he tries, those tears will always bleed from your eyes.

If he was still human, perhaps he could’ve been your beacon of life. But the pale decaying skin of his, will always be a cruel reminder he will never be the same as you.

Trey is the least obvious with this bother, somehow. At least, it’s how he looks. He essentially doesn’t seem very observant of the difference, only attending to what you need as a person. Very reliable.

His observation comes in when you don’t need him, or rather, you’re caring for him.

Trey’s eyes watch you curiously inspect his stitched arm, his fingers opening and closing with each turn of the limb. Though the joint might not be connected to him, he can still feel you exhale on his skin, each puff sending chills down his spine. He doesn’t let the feeling show though, still smiling at you when you take out a needle.

It’s nice to be cared for, rather than be the primary caregiver.

“… Why are you look at me like that…?” He didn’t notice

“Oh, sorry.” The awkward laugh leaves his throat. Before he can think of an excuse for staring, he feels the weight of his arm fall into his lap, your stature rising to your full height. “… You know, I think I kinda need that.”

“No, you’re eating.” … Right, he hasn’t eaten yet, that’s silly.

“Well then you should probably stitch me back up—“

“I’m gonna feed you, Trey.” He takes a moment to fully calibrate before he’s smiling. Though, it’s not very clear what kind of smile it is, whether happy or sympathetic. Sparks of electricity trickle from the bolts in his neck while he waits. When you place the bowl in your lap, his tall form bends towards the utensil, mismatched eyes staring into yours.

He watches you bring the fork back down to your lap, his hand quickly grasping your wrist before you can grab it You quirk an eyebrow at his actions.

“I don’t think I’m hungry,” he whispers. You shrug your shoulders, muttering a hushed ‘ok…’ You attempt to reach his limb only to be stopped again. “… I can do that too. Don’t worry.” The hand around your wrist releases, placing itself on your head instead, a single pat telling you to sit down.

There’s a silence that isn’t usual between you too. You don’t dare to question what’s on his mind though.

But, even he’s not too sure about this silence, the only thing he understands, is the arm detached from his shoulder, is just proof of the difference between you both. Maybe, such a tender scene would’ve been better in a shared home, rather than the dingy room of an abandoned hospital.

Leona who leans towards the doesn’t mind side. Yeah? So what if he’s a monster? It doesn’t change the fact you at least used to have something in common. But then he watches the way you fondly talk about humans from your home. Suddenly he feels like your affections are putting him in second place. You place your hand on your chest, an imaginary vow taking place right in front of him. A vow, not for marriage, but a promise, to return to this…

“Rollo. If he hasn't gone crazy and burnt the capital yet, I’m sure he’s taking care of my stuff for me.” you pause, a pause that only leads to Leona's hidden attention, shifting down your face. “I’ll come back to him.”

“…” he’s quiet, leaning back into the wall. You assume he’s on the verge of a nap, but you’re proven wrong when cloth snakes around your entirety. It’s not aggressive nor malicious. If anything, the way they move somehow seems… discontent. The wraps gently lean you on his shoulder, your body stiff at the sudden proximity. You freeze further when his head lays a top of your own. “They don’t need you there.”

“Oh yeah? So i’m needed here than?” you laugh, it was meant to come off as a joke.

“…”

But his silence might’ve told you everything you need to know, and possibly even more.

“Leona…” he doesn’t reply to the call of his name, his bandaged head falling from yours into your lap. Your hand reaches for his hair, but stops just shortly, returning to their rightful place, your sides.

He continues to stay in your embrace, golden cloth nudging your hand into his hair, for it’s the only thing that can tell him you won’t leave.

Even if it’s a lie.

Kalim, who sometimes, in moments like these, forgets he’s not a conceivable human anymore. He’ll look down at the slight fumed state his body is in, but he can’t process the harsh fact, he’s to live like this forever. He has no fortune, no home, no family, only Jamil.

And you.

Kalims body mystifies in the air, smiling at the way you cling onto him with a vigorous grip. The carpet that flies beneath you is one of the wilder select in his room. It’s a sight he’s always wished to have with his future spouse, and he’s sharing it with you; the only thing in his wishful life closest to any form of a lover, is you.

The carpet comes to an abrupt stop, your arm still wrapped around Kalim’s while your free hand remains hugging his lamp to your chest. So close to your heart, and in theory, his own, if you could count that piece of gold as his.

“Kalim, are we… done…?” His eyes look into yours, a hint of fear engrained into your irises, yet the way you smile tells him you’re accelerated. His lack of an answer throws you off, it’s a first for the genie to never burst into words of jovial, and the first he doesn’t look you in the eye as soon as he can. A moment passes before Kalim slowly turns his head towards you, his typical smile painted on his face. “You have something to say don’t you…” The moon shines on his glittering, feint skin, like a golden lamp. “… What is it?”

“If I could grant my own wish, what do you think it’d be?” He laughs, grabbing you by your shoulders and pulling your bodies together. His eyes linger at the cage in your arms.

“Huh… I’m not sure… What would it be—?” The bangles on his wrist jingle when he moves his hand to the lamp, lifting the object between your faces, softly kissing the metals his eyes stare deeply into you.

“To marry you.” He lifts from the object, the brightest smile lighting onto his face as he laughs. His eyes trail down to the lamp both your hands overlap. “But your wish always comes first…! Because… you’re the human!”

Epel is similar to Leona, in the regards that he doesn’t care about your humanity and his inhumanity. The difference though, is Epel willingly chose this life for himself. So, he can’t blame anyone but himself for the distance between you and him.

Your palm rests on Epel’s face, pushing him with weak strength. It works somehow, as the lunging position he was in falters, his arms falling to the side while crimson pupils dilate at your face. You can feel the stab of tiny rocks pushing your skin where you sit.

You move your hand away, Epel falling onto your legs.

“I thought you said—“ his speed has him moving his face inches from your own, blood dripping from those fangs of his.

“Yeah yeah, whenever… I did say that.” Your hand pushes his face to the side, the vampire rolling onto the ground next to you. If Vil saw such a sight, he would scoff at the filth.

“So then what is it—“ he stops when he finally notices the pant in your words, and the way you sway from dizziness. He sits up even faster than he lunges, steadying your body. You laugh at the worry in his expression. How could you laugh at this…?

“Be careful, you could kill me earlier than I’m meant to be dead… Those reapers surely… Wouldn’t like that…”

Right. He forgot. You, can die.

…

He wordlessly hoists you up, carrying your body to wherever he can find people. Surely, you need that blood more than they do.

Yet again… he’s at fault for forgetting something so precious about you.

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (10)

Originally posted on my old account. Uploading twice weekly :)

The following morning I woke up to a pounding headache, Keira sleeping peacefully next to me. My eyes hurt, a tell tale sign that I’ve been crying. My suspicions were confirmed when I made my way to the bathroom. Red, swollen eyes. The memories were a little fuzzy, I remember dancing with Misa and Alba, Alexia pulling me outside, she was mad? I remember she said she loved me. 

Alexia loved me. I loved Alexia. 

As I paced back and forth in the bedroom, unable to stop because my brain was going so fast, Keira slowly woke up. 

“Milly what are you doing? What time is it?”

“Tell me she didn’t say she loved me outside the club last night?” 

Signing as Keira looked at her phone “it’s only 6am, please come back to bed. It’s too early for this.”

“No no no no. Keira this can not be happening. This is bad. Very very bad. I shouldn’t have come back.” 

“Hey Mil. Stop. You love her. You always have, so what’s the problem?” 

“The problem? The problem is that I can’t love her Keira! It’s not a fucking option. I need to go. “ 

“Milly wait!” keira got up as fast as she could. But it was too late. I was gone, out the door. I couldn’t go home, that was the first place she would go. The gym would be the next, the beach would be the last placed she go, especially considering it was raining now. 

After I had left, Keira rang Lucy panicking. Lucy rang Ona, who rang Claudia, who rang Patri, Patri rang Mapi and Mapi rang Alexia. It’s safe to say everyone started to panic. Thinking I was running away again, the thought was there but I couldn’t do that to the team. 

Surfing was freeing for me. Sitting on the board, pretty far out gave me a chance to think without anyone around. I loved Alexia, but this didn’t feel right. None of this felt right. I had always dreamed about some fairytale ending for us but it never happened. Maybe if I had listened to her and not married Emily, things would be different. We only lasted a month, does that even count as being married? I wasn’t particularly interested in catching the waves, just wanted to think without anyone around to disturb me. As I made my way back to land, I noticed her. Drenched, sitting in the wet sand. 

“Everyone’s looking for you.” 

“Well tell them to stop. I’m not lost.” My tone was harsh, I didn’t mean for it to be. Not really. 

“Mil, we need to talk about it.” 

“Talk about what Alexia? You being jealous last night? You and Olga breaking up? You being in love with me? Me being in love with you? Pick a subject and I’ll talk.” 

“You love me back?” Whispering, She looked at me wide eyed, almost as if I’d take it back. I would. 

“Pick a different one.” 

“No. I want to talk about the fact that you’re in love with me too.” 

“I’m not doing this.” I tried to walk away. I couldn’t do this. 

“Don’t walk away from me Amelia!” I stopped. Not turning around to look at her, I couldn’t. “Please stop running away from me Mil.” The last few words came out broken. She was crying. 

“Why can’t you just let me love you? That’s all I want Mil!” 

“Because every time you say that all I see is her! I could’ve let you love me before Emily! But I didn’t. Instead I’m the reason she’s dead and the reason your heart was broken. All I see when I look at you is the pain and destruction I’ve caused but you look at me like I put the stars in the sky. So full of love and care. I can’t do that Alexia. It’s too much.” 

Suddenly arms wrap around me, not alexia’s because she’s standing in front of me. “Hija, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Eli. The mother I never had. 

“It’s too much Eli please.” 

“Come. I will take you home. Alexia, let’s go please.” 

“Mami no.” 

“Now Alexia.” 

Alba was waiting at my apartment when we arrived. It was all too much. Alexia’s family treated me like their own, despite the pain I’ve caused, the devastation I’ve caused. They were soft, too soft. 

I headed straight for the shower. Ignoring the way Alba looked at me, or the way Eli called out to me. I needed to be alone. This isnt what I wanted to have happened. I hoped that after all this time Alexia wouldn’t love me and I could pretend to not love her. 

The shower was scolding hot. Even through my clothes which I didn’t bother to take off. I thought it would make me feel better, feel something. I didn’t realise how much time had passed until Alba came in. 

“Mil? Are you okay?” Silence. “Milly?” No response. “Amelia I’m coming in.” The alarm in her voice got the attention of Eli and Alexia. 

“Milly can you hear me? Fuck this water is boiling.” Alba tried turning it off but it was too hot. 

“Move Alba. Get me a towel.” Alexia turned off the water, taking the towel from her sister. “Can you get me some clothes for her and give us some space please?” Without even realising it, Ale had picked me up and taken me to the counter. 

“I’m going to undress you now, okay? If you need me to stop tell me and I’ll stop straight away.” All I could muster was a nod. 

There was nothing sexual about it. She moved as quickly and carefully as she could. Removing my shirt and bather top, drying me then putting an old oversized shirt on, carefully lifting me up to remove my skirt and bather bottoms. I flinched when she did that, hoping she didn’t notice but she did. 

“Do you need me to stop?” She pulled away quickly, noticing my eyes screwed shut. Shaking my head, she continued. She quickly pulled my underwear up, then lifted me up and carried me to bed. As she was about to leave I stopped her. 

“Ale please stay. Don’t leave me, please.” I begged. 

“I’ll be right back bebé, I’m just getting some water.” 

She was right back, putting a water bottle on my side, plugging my phone into the charge, then making her way to the other side. Climbing in and pulling me onto her chest. That’s how I fell asleep. The exhaustion of what happened last night and today hitting me. 

[pedgito]

wishing everyone a belated happy holidays and early happy new year! december was a hectic month for me so i didn't read nearly as much as i wanted to, but these are the fics i enjoyed in the time that i had. i went through a bit of a series binge early this month, as you'll see below. here's to all the fluffy, angsty, smutty goodness everyone is bound to cook up in 2025!

this key will help you figure out which fics are more your vibe, or if you’re just curious of the contents before you dive in:

smut = 🌶️, fluff = ☁️ angst = ☄️

total fics listed below: 18

✎ — 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑

↝ hook 'em series by @joeloverture — 🌶️

Trying to get back at your cheating quarterback ex-boyfriend leads you right into the arms of his coach. You plan on staying there for a little while.

↝ smooth operator series by @penascigarette — ☄️, 🌶️

You didn't know why Joel was so different from your other clients. His voice was the first thing to catch your attention, followed closely by words so hot they lit a fire within you. Everything he said drew you to him like a moth to a flame; but that's the problem with fire. Someone is bound to get burnt.

↝ limits by @perotovar — 🌶️

So like, imagine a world where bulls evolved to be bi-pedal and can mate with humans, but it’s not a common practice. Don’t think too hard about it, just imagine you’re a new farm hand/stable boy and caught the attention of one of those bulls, okay?

↝ the one you need series by @loliwrites — 🌶️, ☄️, ☁️

When you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life.

↝ stay forever by @mrsmando, part one: stay while — 🌶️, ☁️

You & Joel finally reach jackson, and the life you’ve dreamed of becomes reality — with a few twists and turns along the way.

↝ i'm empty without you, so come grow within me by @chronically-ghosted — 🌶️, ☄️

With winter approaching, Joel takes stock of what he wants and what he has in his life. He wants you, but he’s not quite sure he has you, not in a way that only a life in Jackson can afford. Joel’s an old-fashioned guy, so he’s looking for an old-fashioned love…if he can only remember how to do it right.

↝ mr. winter by @kedsandtubesocks — 🌶️, ☁️

You wrote that letter to Santa as a joke (knowing he obviously wouldn’t answer it) until he does - and he comes with a proposition.

↝ through the glass by @murder-wife — 🌶️

Your neighbor, Joel, seems to have a revolving door of dates. He also doesn't seem to have a taste for keeping his curtains closed. You can't help but watch when it feels like he wants you to see what he's doing to them.

↝ but he's the one i want by @wheresarizona — 🌶️

All you needed was to see if your dad’s friend, Joel, had a spare key to your father’s house. Instead, you get railed within an inch of your life on Joel’s couch. 

✎ — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍

↝ shadows by @burntheedges — 🌶️

You were pretty sure the ship was haunted.

✎ — 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐒/𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐔𝐒

↝ guilty as sin by @ovaryacted — ☄️, 🌶️

Being the daughter of a Senator of Rome has it’s pros and cons, you lived comfortably while constantly being reminded of your insubordinate position in society. However, upon meeting General Acacius, your life changes as you begin to grow fond of him. The question is, will he reciprocate your feelings, or cast you out to suffer your impending doom of unwanted courtship?

↝ fit for a goddess by @ozarkthedog

You wear Marcus’s gold laurel crown while he worships you.

↝ propositio by @gracieheartspedro — ☄️, 🌶️

After assembling an army to win back Rome, you finally get to confront the traitor to your cause. General Marcus Acacius.

↝ foxglove downs series by @whocaresstillthelouvre — 🌶️

In the exclusive realm of elite show jumping, where wealth stretches as far as the polished estates, Marcus Acacius and Lucius Verus are locked in a fierce competition that reaches far beyond the arena.

✎ — 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒

↝ nut vid with the sound on by @syd-djarin — 🌶️

You accidentally send Frankie a text that he wasn’t supposed to see.

✎ — 𝐉𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐀

↝ helping hand by @/mrsmando — ☁️, 🌶️

You and Javi take a bath together.

✎ — 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐀

↝ reprieve by @hauntedhowlett-writes — ☄️, 🌶️

When angry, Emperor Geta seeks reprieve in his empress.

✎ —𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀

↝ death kink by @s-lverwing — ☄️

Devotion between you and Caracalla is measured in blood.

likes, reblogs, and comments keep the motivation alive, so if you’re taking a look at these for the first time, please leave a kind word for these writers or just reblog, even. support your writers <3