#it was so hard not to just make like eight banners because the art was all fantastic

[tbcanary]

Edit Requests: Clint Barton for @douglaseiffels

"Aw, coffee, no."

[heeverseblog]

this time

synopsis: you confessed to jake sim in your senior year of high school but got rejected. now you’re a single mom in need of a math tutor to help your daughter pass math class. you happen to stumble upon jake’s profile and end up hiring him.

pairing: math tutor!jake x single mom!reader

genre: childhood acquaintances to lovers, single parent au, fluff, little bit of angst but happy ending

warnings: unrequited love (only at the beginning), mentions of early pregnancy, abandonment, fear of being in a relationship, one suggestive scene, short argument about career

word count: 11,359 words

note: THIS WHOLE STORY IS RUSHED AND NOT HEAVILY PROOFREAD, SORRY :((((

the first day you saw jake sim was at your school’s library. you were reading “anne of green gables” while he was reading a physics textbook. a freakin’ physics textbook. who reads a physics textbook at eight years old? apparently, jake sim does.

he looked so invested in reading formulas and his glasses were thick black-framed ones. you thought it was cute when he was sticking his tongue out as he was reading probably some formulas and terms. you forgot about gilbert blythe because that day, jake sim became number one in your “the cutest boys i’ve ever seen” list.

word was sent out that you had a huge, massive crush on jake sim. who wouldn’t know when you shout his name every time he passes by your way? you’d give him love notes saying how cute he looked with his glasses and how he has the cutest smile. every cringey, embarrassing thing a girl can do and call her crush just for him to notice her. yes, you’ve done it all.

when you became a teenager, you think that what you feel towards jake is more than just a crush. the longer you got to know him, the more you got to see how kind he was. when everyone was having a hard time understanding math, he’d write on the blackboard formulas and explaining when and where to use them. when a kid fell on his bike, he cleaned the wound and carried him to the school clinic, even when he was tired and sweaty from soccer practice.

one time, you were bored at math class. so you doodled the soccer field from your window. then your math teacher slams his hands on your table and proceeds to humiliate you on your artistic dreams. your colored pencils were confiscated and as shallow as it may be, you felt like a part of you was taken away after being humiliated.

while it was lunch time, jake came out of your classroom going with his friends, sunghoon and jay. you were still sad about what happened a while ago. when you sat down, you were surprised when you colored pencils were placed under your desk. you remember jake coming out of the classroom. you smile, realizing that you liked jake sim.

every girl fell on line in talking to jake sim. but you always made sure you were first. rumors spread that jake had a crush on the transfer student, kazuha. the rumors were confirmed when he asked her to the school dance. they danced that night but nothing bloomed. you noticed jake looked a little sulky the following week. and you thought that simply making him laugh like making funny faces or giving him cookies will make him feel better. and he did. jake was never mean to you. he still treats you kindly like everyone else. and you were fine with that. but you wanted to step your game.

a few weeks left and you will be graduating high school. so you wanted to confess to jake properly. you drew a banner with your confession, “jake sim, will you accept me?” you remember setting up the art room with lights. your art teacher was kind enough to allow you, knowing that you were her favorite student.

“jake sim, i’ve liked you since the day you were reading that textbook in the library. i’ve always liked you and it took me years to properly confess how I truly feel . so… you held out the flowers to him, “will you accept me?”

you felt like crying saying your confession. but you didn’t care. you gave him the peonies from your mother’s flower shop. when you thought will reach for the flowers, he held hands and slowly pulled them down. your face went down along with your hands.

“y/n, i appreciate what you have done…but,” jake looked down at the floor, “i don’t like you like that.”

you’d be lying to yourself when you say you’re not hurt. you tried your best not to blink or else the tears will come out of your eyes.

“oh. um…thank you for being honest.” you gave him a forced smile, feeling your eyes well up. on cue, the school bell rings, signaling it’s time for all students to get out of the building.

“i’ll see you tomorrow?”

jake nods, “see you tomorrow.”

you gave him a pat in the back before turning of the lights then ran out of the art room. you let the tears run down your face as the petals from the peonies fell, leaving a trail on the floor.

after a week, you received your high school diploma and off you to college you go. you and your friends took pictures together and you thought that it would be nice to walk around your school for one last time. from the classrooms, to the playgrounds, to the soccer fields. then you took one last glance at the art room, recalling the day you experienced your first heartbreak.

when you went back to your parents, they gave you a tight hug before giving you a bouquet. then you catch a glimpse of jake with his family. like yours, his parents were proud of him for finishing top of his class. your heart might have swelled a little but before you could feel it more, your dad said he’d take you and your mom out to dinner.

jake sim might not like you back but you were sure that he will be a good memory you can look back to.

“i’m sorry, mom.” your seven-year-old daughter tells you as both of you walked out of her classroom. apparently, she wasn’t the best at math class and her homeroom teacher was beginning to worry. but who were you to be disappointed when you were never the best at math either.

you kneel down, holding your daughter’s shoulders, “aera, we’re going to hire someone to help you, alright?”

aera pouts while nodding her head. you held her cheek, “sweetie, it’ll be alright. hm?” your daughter slowly nods her head then both of you went home.

you’re in an app searching for math tutors that look friendly but will help your daughter excel in class. it’s been an hour and you still haven’t found the right one.

“mommy, what’s for dinner?” aera says as she colors in her coloring book.

“we’re having spaghetti tonight, sweetie.” aera just nods her head and goes back to coloring. when you returned your attention to your phone, a familiar name popped up.

sim jaeyun: part-time physics teacher, part-time math tutor

sim jaeyun or known as jake sim when you were just a girl living in a small town. he was the boy you’ve had a huge crush on ever since you were eight years old. because of your silly crush on him, you confessed to him a week before your high school graduation. but he didn’t like you that way.

admit it or not, jake is a strong candidate. aside from attending the same school as kids, jake was best in math and physics and had a good reputation for being a math wizard.

unconsciously, you tapped the hello! are you available for a meet-up? option.

“shit!” you stand up from the couch.

“mom, that’s a bad word,” aera says while coloring her coloring book at the dinning table.

“you’re right, sweetie. mommy is sorry.” you say and kneeled to reach your daughter’s height. you smile, thinking that your daughter takes after you in her interest in drawing and coloring. she’d always ask you for coloring books, sometimes crayons if her old ones kept breaking. then one time you gave her the 64 crayons that you’ve always wanted as a kid.

“mommy, look!” aera colored the tiger pink.

“that’s wonderful, baby!” aera goes back into coloring while you prepare your dinner.

while you were cooking your spaghetti, your phone beeps and you received a message.

hello there! may i know who i’ll be tutoring?

you reply, it’s my seven-year-old daughter. she needs help in math.

jake: oh i see. may i know who i am speaking with?

you take a deep breath and typed your full name.

jake: y/n? did we go to the same school together?

y/n: yup! same school since 2nd grade to high school.

jake: oh wow! how are you doing?

y/n: i’m doing well right now.

jake: that’s good to hear!

jake: about your daughter, where exactly does she need help in math?

y/n: if it’s not too much to ask, she needs help in everything.

jake: oh no problem! are you available to meet-up?

y/n: sure! will send you the details soon.

jake: great! looking forward to meeting you.

y/n: looking forward to meeting you too.

“oh no!”

you immediately put your phone down and got the pot away from the stove with smoke coming out of it.

you told jake to meet you at this café that is somewhat near where you lived and where jake is residing. it’s been long since you last saw jake and your last encounter with him was at the art room with a banner and lights where you confessed. then he rejected you.

you were holding tight on your cup of coffee. after you told jake where you were seated, you were expecting to meet him anytime soon. and that thought made you more nervous.

“y/n?”

your organs did somersaults when you hear his familiar voice. and when you turn around, you were also greeted with a familiar face.

“j-jake. hi.”

jake still wore glasses. difference is that they were no longer thick black-framed ones but specs. aside from that, he did not change much. he still looked as gentle like before.

“sorry to keep you waiting. one of my students needed help.”

“no worries. please, take a seat.”

jake sits at the seat across you. he places his bag on the floor then he returns his gaze at you.

“sorry i didn’t order anything for you yet. i didn’t know what you liked.”

“it’s okay. so, your daughter needs help?”

“yeah, aera, she…she has trouble understanding problem-solving equations. has a hard time memorizing the multiplication table too, apparently.”

some part of you felt awkward that your daughter got her weakness in math from you. and jake knew that.

“do you have any worksheets from her class?”

“oh, yes,” you bring out the sheets if paper from your bag and gave it to jake. he reviews the papers and you felt déjà vu, remembering the day you first saw him in the library while reading a physics textbook.

“i see the problem here. she mixes the formulas and interchanges them.”

“is she…does she need extreme hands on help?”

“i can’t say yet but if i tutor her soon, i'll let you know the progress.”

“thank you…” you pause, not knowing to call him mr. sim, teacher sim, or just by his name.

“sorry,” you let out an awkward laugh, “i just don’t know how to address you?”

“jake is fine. i mean we went to the same school.”

“okay. thank you, jake.”

“thank you, too. y/n.” then jake gets his bag.

“you’re leaving?”

“yeah, i have to do some tasks first. but let me know when i can tutor her.”

“sure thing. see you soon?”

jake nods, “see you soon.” then he leaves the café.

you and jake agreed that he will tutor aera from 2 pm to 5 pm every thursday and friday. at first, aera is shy to meet a new person but you assured her that her new tutor is a friend of yours. and she promised that she will behave.

the doorbell rang and as you expected, jake was outside.

“hi.”

“hi. i hope i’m not too early.”

“oh, no. you came just in time. come on in.”

when you let jake in your unit, you told him to wait by the living room while you call aera by her bedroom.

“sweetie, your tutor is here. come and say hi.”

when aera came out of her room, her shyness aent away.

“aera, this is jake. he’s going to tutor you at math. say hi, sweetie.”

“hello!” aera waves to jake to which he found adorable and softly giggles.

“it’s nice to meet you, aera.”

“mommy says you’re her friend. i call aunt yujin and aunt gaeul aunties because they’re mommy’s friends. can i call you uncle jake?”

“aera…”

“uncle jake sounds nice.” jake said with a smile on his face.

“do you want us to start, aera?” jake asks and aera nods before pulling jake to the dining table.

before jake and aera started their tutor session, you asked permission from jake if you can stay by your room with the door open. and he was kind enough to understand that you were careful with aera.

surprisingly, jake and aera got along well. aera had a hard time understanding the formulas and comprehending problems but jake was very patient with her. you always knew that jake would be a great teacher but you never knew that day will actually come true.

“okay, so when you add 4 and 7, you’ll be transferring the other one here, to 6. so it becomes 7. then you add 7 and 2. and what’s the answer?”

“91?”

“good job, aera!” then jake did a high five to aera before circling the worksheet with his red pen.

“uncle jake, can you be my math teacher instead? you’re nicer than mrs. im.”

“did you know that mrs. im was also my math teacher. your mom and i were her students.”

“it means that she’s old! no wonder why she’s so grumpy.”

“aera, what did we say about bad mouthing people?” you say from the kitchen as you start preparing your dinner.

“it’s not going to make us different from them.”

“that’s right.”

jake softly laughed at your statement, “okay, aera. that’s all for today. if you still need help next time, we can always go back. but try studying on your own too, okay?”

“okay, uncle jake!”

jake starts packing his things then you and aera see him out.

“uncle jake, thank you for teaching me today. you’re so nice and i had fun.”

“you’re welcome, aera.”

aera looks up at you, “mommy, say thank you, too.”

you rub aera’s shoulders, “yes, ma’am,” then faced jake, “thank you for helping aera today. really.”

“you’re welcome,” jake looks down at aera, “i’ll see you tomorrow, okay kiddo?”

“see you tomorrow, uncle jake!” aera waves and jake gives her a smile before he leaves.

months have passed since jake tutored aera. the process wasn’t easy at first since aera is really having a hard time understanding math. but as jake promised, he updated you that aera is still in need of help to improve. and you were grateful that he was patient with her, despite being exhausted from being a teacher at school.

most days, aera was excited for her tutoring sessions. she even boasts how she has a good tutor and jake’s her favorite teacher slash uncle. and you have to admit, it was cute.

today, you were busy finishing an illustration for a children’s book. most of the time, you sell your works online or have clients contact you for commissions. it wasn’t a stable job but you had to earn for you and your daughter. and thank god, your clients paid you well.

in the middle of working, you received a message from yujin, saying that there will be a class reunion at the town hall two months from now. you didn’t know if you’ll be able to go but you might if your friends are going.

yujin: so how’s the tutoring going on?

y/n: it’s going pretty well, actually. jake is really patient with aera and he always make sure that she understands what he’s teaching her

gaeul: you know…it’s not too late to re-live high schaer

y/n: eh???

yujin: she means to shoot your shot

y/n: very funny guys -_-

y/n: jake is just tutoring aera and he’s just doing his job

gaeul: 👀

yujin: if you say so 🤪

y/n: gotta get ready. i’ll be picking up aera in a bit and jake will be arriving after.

yujin: ooooh y/n is getting ready for her date.

y/n: OH PLEASE 😡

you roll your eyes before locking your phone and turning off your tablet.

when you were done getting dressed, the doorbell rang and when you opened it, you were surprised to see jake.

“hi, jake. i was just about to pick-up aera from school.”

jake scrunches his forehead then looks at his watch, “oh,” he lets out a laugh, “my class ended early and i might have thought i was late. i can come back later.”

“oh no, please. do you want to come with me and pick-up aera? she’ll be glad to see you.”

“sure.”

“great. let’s go.”

during the car ride, you and jake didn’t say a word. it was either you were busy watching the road or avoiding talking to him.

“so how have you been?”

“hm?”

“i mostly see you during tutoring sessions but we never really…'talked.’”

“oh, uh…well today was fine. i’m currently doing an illustration for a children’s book. not halfway done but I’m making progress. you?” you liked to jake before immediately returning your attention to the road.

“one of my students said that physics was useless and why do we need to study how fast a frisbee can travel.”

you try holding your laugh but jake caught you so you retort, “sorry it’s just that a kinda remember myself. and well, i couldn’t help my daughter in her math homework.”

it was silent again and all you could hear was the tires and the car engine.

“for what’s worth, aera is a good kid.”

you smile at jake’s comment and looked at him for a while, “thanks.”

“we’re here.”

“it’s been a while since i saw this place.”

you spot aera waiting at the waiting area and when she sees your car, she stands up and waits for you. and when you and jake got out of the car, she immediately runs to jake, hugging his leg.

“uncle jake, you’re here!”

jake giggles, “it’s good to see you too, kiddo.” then he rubs aera’s head like usual.

“don’t i get a hug?”

“mommy!” aera opens her arms and then you carry her. she gives you a kiss.

“let’s go home?” you asks and aera nods.

the three of you went to the car. aera was still happy that jake was with you to pick her up.

“uncle jake, can you come and pick me up next time?”

“aera, uncle jake has classes to teach. you can still see each other during tutoring sessions.”

aera pouts at what you said. jake looks back, “how about i bring you ice cream next week?”

aera smiles, “yes, please!”

“you might spoil her with too much sweets.” you nag.

“can it be mint chocolate, please?”

jake’s eyes grew wide then he looks at you and back at aera, “you really are your mother’s daughter.”

“hey mint chocolate deserves to be respected,” you defend.

“not when it tastes like toothbrush.”

“that’s mean!” you and aera say in unison.

throughout the whole ride, three of you were still bickering about mint chocolate being the superior ice cream flavor. you never thought that someone could actually get along with you and your daughter’s antics. and you liked it.

“i’m sorry for the overtime, jake. but don’t worry, i’ll increase today’s payment session.”

exams were coming and aera needed help in studying. you felt bad that you had to ask jake to stay for a while but you promised him that he’ll be compensated more than his usual pay.

“it’s alright. besides, aera needed help.”

“why don’t you stay for dinner? you might be hungry.”

“oh, no. i couldn’t.”

“no, really. it’s the least i can do for thanking you.”

“if you insist then,” jake places his bag down the chair, “dinner would be great.”

and dinner was going great. aera told jake herself that jake was her favorite teacher. and jake felt honored. aera kept telling stories of her school life and how she made friends. then aera tells how

“you know, your uncle jake helped everyone in math before. he’s a math wizard.”

“uncle jake, did you help mom math too?”

“i did. she got the 4th highest grade in our math exam.”

“and of course, your uncle jake got the highest grade.”

jake does this hand gesture where he says “oh please.”

“is my mom hard to teach?”

you and jake laughed, “well…let’s say you’re a fast learner than your mother.”

“mommy, i’m better at you in math!”

“i can’t believe you two are teaming up against me,” then you pretend to get shot at the heart and jake and aera laughed at your antics.

after dinner was done, aera became sleepy. she promised that she’ll finish her homework tomorrow. you let her sleep early because she looked exhausted.

“goodnight, uncle jake.” aera says then yawns.

“goodnight, kiddo. you did well today.” jake kneels down and aera hugs jake. you were surprised but jake returned the hug, the sight melted your heart.

“okay, sweetie. uncle jake has to go home and sleep too.” aera pulls away from the hug and then you tell her to get her clothes and take a shower.

“bye, uncle jake.” aera says before getting inside the bathroom.

when it was just you and jake alone, you looked into each other and laughed.

“aera will be sleeping well tonight.”

“yeah, looks like it.”

“hey,” you pause for a while, “thank you. for helping aera. she hasn’t been this happy for a while.”

“thank you for letting me stay.” for some reason, your heart fluttered, “for dinner.”

“oh,” then you let out a chuckle, “you’re welcome.”

you and jake let out another chuckle. and it might seem cringey but you didn’t care. because right now—this felt right. you looking to his eyes, and him doing the same. almost like you didn’t want him to leave.

“i, uh…” jake coughs, “i should probably go.”

“oh. yeah…right. drive safely.”

jake nods before he opens the door, saying goodbye before leaving.

when you closed the door, you let out a breath you realized you haven’t been holding. you’ve replayed how jake looked at you just a while ago. and every time you remembered his face, your heart would beat fast. when you remember him being a good friend to aera, you couldn’t help but melt at his gentleness towards your daughter.

“mommy?” aera walks out of the bathroom with a towel on her shoulders, “are you sick?”

“huh? oh. no, no sweetie.”

“your face is red.”

“it’s just hot sweetie. let’s tuck you to bed, okay?”

after tucking aera to bed, it was your turn to get ready for bed. and when you thought you’ll be able to sleep peacefully, days of jake bonding with your daughter flashed in your mind again. he hated mint chocolate but when he promised to bring a tub of it, he ate it with you and aera. he finished a cup of it and didn’t think of spitting it out or drinking water to cleanse his tongue. one time, when you gave him a glass of water, your fingers touched and you immediately pulled away.

you kept tossing and turning all night. it was like you were your old self, gushing over jake in the smallest things. though this time, you had a daughter. and jake treats her so well that you couldn’t help but smile and melt.

and you wore that smile until you slept peacefully at night.

lately, you’ve been having headaches while feeling muscle pains. when you took a temperature test, it showed that you had fever. you immediately called yujin, saying you needed help to take care of aera. you couldn’t ask your parents help because they have a store to take of at home. besides, you didn’t want them to take a bus all the way here to the city. you were just thankful that yujin was happy to babysit aera while you we sick and you said that you were fine with being alone for now. you told jake about your sickness and aera’s tutoring sessions will be cancelled for now. he hopes for you to get better soon.

“remember to listen to aunt yujin, alright?”

“mhm!”

“and you don’t keep her waiting when she comes to fetch you.”

“yes, mommy!”

“don’t forget to finish your homework, alright? especially math.”

“yes, mommy!” you smile at your daughter then shift your attention to yujin, “thank you for doing this.”

“aera and i will have a good time, don’t worry,” yujin soothes aera’s head.

“i’m going to miss you, sweetie.” sadly, you couldn’t kiss aera goodbye.

“i’m going to miss you too, mommy!”

“okay sweetie, you’re going be late for school.”

aera and yujin say their goodbyes and you were left alone in your home. you lied down on your bed, with a glass of water beside you. you wrapped yourself in your blanket, hoping that it’ll stop you from shivering.

hours have passed and what you’ve been doing is eating, cleaning the used dishes, drinking medicine, and sleeping. you couldn’t wait to get better but you still felt sick and weak.

you were covered in your blanket when your doorbell rang. you wondered if it was yujin but she must be at home this hour, watching over aera.

you wore your mask before getting the door. when you opened it, you were surprised to see jake holding a stainless-steel lunchbox.

“oh, jake. hi.”

“i, uh…i made us some dinner. i made you soup.” jake raises the lunchbox, “i just thought you needed something to warm you up.”

you couldn’t help but melt at jake’s words. he really has this talent of turning small things into something big. and it made your heart flutter.

“come on in.” you opened the door for jake and let him in like always.

“i’ll just get us some plates.” then jake holds your shoulder, “i’ll do it. you can lie down and rest.”

you nod, “okay.” you were about to enter your room but you turn around, “plates and bowls are in the upper right cabinet.”

“got it.”

“and the spoons—” then jake shows you that he found the utensils on the other side of the cabinet.

“i’ll…” you point to your room and jake assures you that he’s got it covered.

you never let anyone in your home aside from your friends and parents. yujin and gaeul have always been pestering you to go on blind dates but you never did. letting someone else in your life was making you a little doubtful. but you were glad that jake is someone you knew and looks trustworthy.

“hey,” jake enters with a tray of the food he brought. you sit up then jake places the tray in front of you.

“what’s tonight’s main course?”

“well, we have ramyeon with ham, boiled eggs, and green onions.”

“sounds delicious.”

“here,” jake scoops some soup and gently blows it before bringing the spoon close to your mouth. you take the soup in your mouth and you smile, “that’s good soup. give my compliments to the chef.”

jake softly laughs, “will do.”

and jake proceeds to feed you the noodles and other toppings. you felt shy every time you couldn’t take the food in your mouth, especially if they were noodles. but jake didn’t judged you. when you were almost done, you drank the remaining soup left.

“you good?”

you nod, “mhm! thanks for the food. how about you?”

“i already ate, don’t worry.” you nod then you drank your medicine.

“um…jake?”

“yeah?”

“thank you for coming over.”

jake smiles, “you’re welcome. you can sleep if you want to.”

“hm? aren’t you…don’t you need to go home and do other things?”

“if it’s alright with you…could i stay for a while? i just figured that you need someone to take care of you right now.”

you couldn’t find the right words to say. jake sim, your highschool classmate, childhood crush, your daughter’s math tutor—is willing to nurse you.

“are you sure?”

“if it’s alright with you. because,” jake slowly brings his hand to your forehead. when you realized what he wanted to do, you leaned forward, letting his hand touch your forehead.

“you’re still burning up.”

the thought of jake sim touching your forehead still causes you to become speechless. when he lets go, you pretended to not be bothered at all.

“are you sure you’ll be okay? i’m a heavy sleeper.”

“i don’t mind. sleep all you want.”

jake takes the tray and helps you fix your pillow, tucking you inside your blanket.

“goodnight, y/n.”

you smile, “goodnight, jake.”

jake was by your side until the day you got better. he cooked you food and let you rest. you felt guilty that he had to nurse you but he wanted to do it wholeheartedly. and your heart fluttered.

you confessed to aera that her uncle jake has been taking care of you while she was away. she was jealous at first because she wanted to take care of you. but you explained to her that you didn’t want to get her sick. she came to her senses and thanked jake that he took care of you. yujin, though, was protective at first but she proceeded to tease you about it.

though lately you’ve realized, your attraction on jake sim was coming back. but this time, you were starting to see him in a different light. he has always been selfless, kind, and gentle but him showing those actions to your daughter made you like him more. but of course, you couldn’t tell him directly how you felt. things were different now that you’re a mom and he’s your daughter’s math tutor.

you’d rather hide your feelings than accept a rejectin. you’ll be reminded that things that come into your life are temporary.

today, you were going to take aera out to a museum for kids. why? because she got a high score in her math exam. while you were sick, aera managed to study on her own and remember the lessons she had with jake. you called jake and told him the news and he felt so proud of her.

“mommy, can uncle jake come with us?”

“i don’t know, sweetie. but i’ll call uncle jake first, okay?” aera nods her head vigorously.

jake’s phone continued ringing and you waited for him to pick-up the call.

“hello, y/n?”

“hey, jake.”

“hi, uncle jake!” aera says and you hear jake laugh.

“aera says hi.”

“well, what’s up?”

“oh…you see, i’m taking aera out today. and we were wondering—i mean she was wondering if…if you wanted to come with us.”

you shake your head, feeling anxious if jake caught you. but that worry disappeared when jake replies, “sure, i mean i’d love to.” and he sounded full of glee.

“g-great! we’ll pick you up then?”

“oh, no. i’ll pick you guys up.”

“oh. but—”

“no, really. i want to pick you guys up.”

“oh,” again, jake’s doing the smallest things can become big. “okay, we’ll be ready by then.”

“okay. see you later.

“see you later.”

never in a long time has jake sim thought that he’ll be meeting y/n again. not in a million years has he also expected to meet y/n’s daughter.

jake sim was just having a regular day: teaching physics at school, checking their papers, and create lesson plans. he goes home, continues checking papers, finishes his lesson plan, and reads more textbooks whether it be math or physics. finally, he washes up, does a little bit of social media, then goes to bed.

jake was used to getting compliments of him being a math genius. many expected him to be a scholar, a professor, an engineer, or a physicist. but it wasn’t that easy. believe it or not, jake sim couldn’t seem to know where he can fit in. he was the golden boy from high school but after he graduated, he became lost and unsure. but he did know he loved math and physics alongside ramyeon noodles.

jake sim does his daily routine when suddenly, he receives a message. he puts his papers down and checks his phone.

hello! are you available for a meet-up?

then he replies, hello there! may i know who i’ll be tutoring?

the sender didn’t reply. he thought that it was the usual ones who reply after an hour or two so he goes back to checking his papers.

after a while, the sender replied.

it’s my seven-year-old daughter. she needs help in math.

jake returns his attention to his phone.

jake: oh i see. may i know who i am speaking with?

the sender sends a familiar name. then jake remembers a girl he frequently heard in school.

jake: y/n? did we go to the same school together?

y/n: yup! same school since 2nd grade to high school.

jake felt like catching up with an old friend. he might have not known you that much but he knew your reputation of being one of his admirers and that you were full of spirit with a good personality. though he did remember you causing some trouble but you weren’t the bad student type. in fact, he remembers you giving him compliments on sticky notes.

jake: great! looking forward to meeting you.

y/n: looking forward to meeting you too.

fast forward to the day jake was going to meet you. it was only a casual meet-up about agreements and how he’ll help your daughter pass math class. he noticed that you seemed worried about your kid but he assured you that he’ll try his best to help her.

and when he met her, he couldn’t help but soften up. meeting aera was like a breath of fresh air to his regular students. aera was willing to listen and learn on her lessons. she was very sweet and fun to be with. her spirit reminded him of yours when you were younger.

“uncle jake, i drew this picture for you.” aera gives him a drawing of him, reading books on the table with a blackboard behind him that had math equations.

“you really drew this?” jake asks amazed at your daughter’s drawing skills.

“mhm! because you’re my favorite teacher and i like you.”

jake couldn’t help but smile at aera. the kid was too cute and sweet to do such a thing. he heard you walking from the kitchen, and you had some biscuits placed inside a bowl.

“for the both of you.”

“thank you, mommy.”

jake notices how aera says “thank you” whether it be small or big actions. he liked that about a kid. but then again, he notices that you do the same. and he can’t help but think that you really are a good  mother.

ever since jake met you and aera, his routine might have become longer than before. but he didn’t mind one bit. not when he can get to help you and aera.

jake’s first reaction of you getting sick was that he got worried. the thought of you sick in bed, alone in your home almost made him loose his mind at class.

“i just figured that you need someone to take care of you right now.”

he knew that you got stressed and tired from taking care of aera. he couldn’t imagine how you managed to get through it in seven years. and he wanted to take care of you.

jake might have had had encounters with women but they weren’t any serious. in his defense, he only went on dates so that sunghoon can stop pestering him.

his bond with you and aera’s was different. the only connection you and jake had was that you both went to the same school. now, you don’t have any status aside from the fact that he’s a math tutor. but he liked it when you ask them how they’re doing and give you snacks. something about your smile and warmth makes him feel comfortable and excited at the same time.

right now, he felt happy feeling that you’re letting him be part of your mother and daughter time.

“uncle jake, have you ever been to a museum?”

“i have. your mother and i went to one in a field trip.”

“mommy says that we’re going to a museum filled with drawings.”

“that sounds fun. you excited?”

“mhm! and it’s more exciting because you’re here.”

jake looks at you, smiling at the interaction. throughout the whole ride, he’s been noticing that you’ve been smiling and giggling the whole ride. and he couldn’t help but gush over it.

the moment the three of you came into the museum, aera couldn’t help but become excited. you let aera be happy and excited but not too much or she’ll break some displays.

you took a picture of aera at the interactive displays. jake took pictures of you and aera, you doing vise versa when aera wanted a picture with him. then aera says that she wanted to have a picture with the three of you. when jake looked at the picture, he couldn’t help but think the three of you looked like a family.

“uncle jake, look! you look like my daddy.”

aera’s words affected both of you. jake has always noticed that your bond with you and aera has changed. but he never noticed that it was beyond that. until now.

“sweetie, let’s go to the mannequins, hm?”

“okay!”

then you carry aera and the two of you happily walk to the mannequins. aera was giggling at how the living mannequin gave her a flower.

suddenly, jake saw you carrying a baby in a living room. then aera comes running to you, and you show her the baby. “here’s your little sister, you say.” then you look at jake, “honey.” aera calls him, “daddy!” then runs to his direction.

“jake!”

he blinks when you called him.

“let’s go?”

“uh, y-yeah. i’ll be right there.”

you had a great time day today. aera was happy to spend her day with you guys and you were happy that she’s happy. jake’s company also made you feel happy. you thought that today’s trip would only be you and aera but with jake, it became a memorable one that you’ll never forget.

aera was sleeping peacefully at the back. you and jake were still awake but both of you were tired.

“she had fun, didn’t she?” jake asks, his eyes focusing on the road.

“she certainly did.

“who knew that she can run so fast?”

“one time, i had to chase her for thirty minutes in a playground. couldn’t catch up with her.”

“she reminds me of you. when we were eight.”

“oh please. anyone can barely put up with my energy.”

“it’s one of the best things about you.”

once again, jake sim made your heart flutter. when the car stops, jake looks at you and you avoid his gaze.

you let out a soft laugh, “yeah. i might have passed it down too much. you might have a hard time catching up with us.”

“i don’t mind. i can catch up just fine.”

then the light turns green and jake starts driving again. you were clutching your hand to your chest. your heart was beating fast that you could barely breathe. you hoped that your heart will have mercy until you got home.

minutes later, you arrived at your home. jake said he can carry aera all the way up to your unit.

you opened the door to aera’s room and jake slowly lies her down. you stand by the doorway and watch jake tuck her in and rub aera’s forehead before he leaves the room. both of you take one last glance at aera before you closed the door.

“thank you for tucking her in. and driving us home.”

“you’re welcome.”

just like the other night, you and jake were standing by the door, staring at each other. both of you didn’t say anything but give each other a look. you recognized that look because you had that look from when you were young and when you met jake again. some part of you felt scared. you never let anyone else in your life, after being left with a baby to raise on your own. but that other part was telling you that you felt happy and excited by letting someone in your life again. when all he showed you was you were worth taking care of.

“jake, i—”

jake didn’t let you finish when his lips landed on yours. his mouth molded perfectly in yours and you couldn’t help but kiss back. jake grabs your nape and the action made you sharply inhale. both of you kissed faster and tried catching each other’s lips. realizing that you’re standing in front if your daughter’s door, you pull away.

“she might hear us.” you whisper and before jake could say anything, you pulled him to your room.

when both of you got inside, you lean at the door and jake kisses you again. this time, you pulled him down by wrapping your arms around his neck. you tried catching your breaths before diving back into each other’s lips. jake slides his hand down to your waist and you let out a whimper. he took that signal as a sign to take off his coat and pull you with him.

you ended up being on top of jake and both if you giggled. you took off your jacket and before you knew it, jake was on top of you. he goes back to kissing you and holding your waist, as you held the sides of his face. jake’s lips left yours as he brushes it to your cheeks, down to your jaw, then down to your neck.

you let out a sigh, feeling euphoria. his touch was gentle and you yearned for it. you pull jake closer and he continues his magic. he slides his hands up then behind your back. you pull jake up and kissed again. he slows his movements this time, getting the rhythm that you wanted.

then realization hit you. this feeling was familiar and the thought was scaring you. the last time you felt this kind of attraction, that person was temporary in your life. you knew that jake was too. eventually, you and jake will part ways when his task is done.

“jake…” you say when you pull away. but jake doesn’t hear you and latches his lips on your neck again.

“wait. jake, stop.”

then jake finally hears you and his eyes looked worried.

“did i hurt you?”

“no. no, no. i…”

you couldn’t look at him in the eye. when you stood up, you brushed your hair back and looked at anywhere else.

“is everything okay?”

“i’m sorry. i don’t…”

you covered your face out if embarrassment, along with fear.

“y/n?” jake holds your arm. his touch made you slowly uncover your face.

“are you okay?”

“i’m…i’m scared.”

jake looks at you with his soft eyes. he places his hand on your cheek and you can feel the tears falling from your eyes.

“oh, no. don’t cry.”

but you did. you let yourself be pulled by jake’s embrace. jake calms you down by rubbing your back.

“everything is going to be alright. i'm here.”

for the first time, you’re actually believing those words.

after crying and staying silent for hours, you finally had the courage to tell jake your sturggles.

“I met this guy in college. he was a year older than me but we took the same class.

“we went on a few dates before we became official. we had a plan. we graduate, gets jobs, get married, and eventually start a family.

“getting drunk at the graduation party was not part of it. getting pregnant after the party—not at all.”

jake continues to hold your hand as both of you lie down on your bed. he let you rest your head on his shoulder as you tell your story. jake sympathized with you, waiting for you to finish what you wanted to say.

“i told him but he said he was sticking to his plan. so he’s completely out of the picture and i raised aera on my own.

“ever since then, i was so scared of letting anyone in my life again. it scares me.

“i’m sorry.”

jake puts his hand on your cheek and you face him.

“don’t be. you’re allowed to feel what you feel.”

you give jake a smile, still feeling your eyes swell. but you were thankful that jake was very understanding.

“thank you for listening.”

“thank you for telling me.”

jake soothes your back and you didn’t notice that you fell asleep in his arms.

after that night, you and jake exchanged “hi’s” awkwardly. but you tried your best not to show aera or let it affect you and jake’s agreement.

weeks passed, you and jake grew out of your awkward phase and became more comfortable eith each other. but he never forced you to start anything with him. he continued being a great father-figure to aera.

you can say that what you had was unlabeled but a part of you knows that you were starting to fall in love with jake. but you were afraid to tell him.

you were just washing the dishes after jake and aera finished their cakes. then aera’s question made you stop.

“uncle jake, if i get a high grade in math, does that mean you won’t be going here anymore?”

“of course not, kiddo. why would you think that?”

“because after i get a high grade, you won’t be teaching me anymore.”

“well, yes…because you already know how to do math. but…” at this point, you were looking at jake then he continues, “it doesn’t mean i'll stop visiting you.”

“really?”

“really.”

then aera hugs jake and he hugged her back.

“if you ace the final exam, we’ll eat mint chocolate ice cream together.” then jake looks at you.

“okay!”

aera did her best and jake was beyond proud of her. you were too. you were proud for the both of them. seeing jake with aera, you thought that he can be more than a father-figure. you knew that both of them have a special bond that is more than a tutor and student.

the next days, jake was starting to stay at home longer. he was so familiar with the place that he remembers where you keep your plates and utensils. one time, the three of you played monopoly and you didn’t remember how long you played because the three of you were having fun. jake declared himself as the winner even though there is no real winner in monopoly.

some nights, you and jake would tuck aera together and she liked it. she never complained about having a father but with jake becoming part of your lives, it was like a dream come true for her.

“i don’t know if me hanging out longer looks like i'm invading your home.”

“i don’t mind. besides, we like having you around.”

you and jake were alone in the living room. drinking a glass of wine while having late night conversations.

“do you maybe…want us to go out sometime? just the two of us.”

“yeah. i’d love that.”

“great. it’s a date then.”

you were surprised but you liked it.

“yes, jake. it’s a date.”

you lean on the couch with the glass on your right hand. jake leans in the couch too, looking at you softly.

“it’s weird though.”

“what is?”

“that i never got to see how amazing you are. you’re not just the girl who causes trouble or teachers dislike for drawing in class.”

“to be fair, i never realized how good you are with kids. it’s making me hard not to fall for you.”

you didn’t know if it was the alcohol. but you suddenly confessing your feelings for jake sim was somehow déjà vu.

“i’ll, uh,” you put down your glass, “i’ll make us some coffee.”

you stand up and was about to go to the kitchen when jake pulls you around and kisses you. you kissed him back, tasting the red sine you just drank. jake holds your cheek and you lean forward, holding his waist.

when you pull away, your eyes were still closed but you can feel jake’s breath on your lips.

“i love you.”

you open your eyes and jake was smiling at you. His cheeks were red. might be from the wine or from the proximity and confession he just said.

 “i’m not drunk am i?”

jake smirks, “i don’t think so.” then kisses you again, and you pull him closer.

“thank you for accepting me.” you whisper at his lips.

“no. thank you for accepting me.”

who would’ve thought that a bottle of red wine was all you needed for the perfect confession. but for now, you needed to make two cups of coffee so you and jake can have a proper conversation.

when you told aera the news, you told her that you loved jake like how anne loves gilbert and that jake loves you the same. then aera follows, “but didn’t you already know?” and you were caught off guard.

nevertheless, aera liked the idea of you and jake being together. you haven’t told her about how you met jake. but one day you will so that she’ll know that the right person will come along in time.

just as jake promised you, both of you will be going on a date together. you asked where you’ll be going but he said it was a surprise.

so you dressed up wearing a denim dress that you thought you’ll never use. you wore the necklace your mother gave you when you graduated high school. it felt weird when you asked aera if you looked okay. but she says that you look beautiful as ever. both yujin and gaeul wanted to babysit her this time. but you also knew that they wanted to see you finally having your date with jake sim. but they were hapoy for you that you finally found someone.

“you really don’t want to tell me where we’re going?”

“not a chance.”

you roll your eyes but you knew that jake was trying to give you a date you can remember.

minutes later, the scenery changed into a lake. the water was shining and the grass was turning to a yellow green color thanks to the sunlight. your jaw dropped at the scenery. it was like an actual painting.

when jake stopped the car, he immediately got out and opened the door for you.

“i wanted to find a place only for us.”

“how did you find this place?”

“had a little help from sunghoon and jay.”

“oh how are those two anyway?”

“they’re doing well, actually. jay is engaged and sunghoon is in denial that he’s crushing on his workmate.

you laugh, remembering sunghoon for his schemes and playboy antics. you remember him teasing jake about a girl he liked in high school.

“you okay?”

“hm?”

“you look grumpy.”

“oh.” you shake your head and grab the picnic basket from jake, “come on!”

the whole picnic, you and jake did some catching up. you told him that your parents are still residing in your hometown and your mom’s flower shop is still om business. your dad retired long ago and he just stays at home. jake’s parents were in australia and they were professors in two different universities.

“i suddenly remembered something. weren’t you supposed to move back to australia after high school?”

jake looks down at your figure, “you trying to get rid of me?” then you give jake a “really?” look and he laughs. you sit up and looked at him, placing your palm on his chest. jake was looking up at the sky, thinking deep.

“it was planned, yes. honestly, i was happy to be back home for a while but…something was telling me that i had to be somewhere else.

“i told my parents that i wanted to go back here. they were hesitant at first but i told them to trust me.”

“and did you find what you were looking for?”

“i did,” then he looks at you, “and i realized that i made the right choice to come home.”

“welcome home, jake.” you leaned down and intended to give him a quick kiss but he leans his face forward, trapping your lips.

“that wasn’t fair.”

“i love you too.”

you laugh but gave jake quick pecks and kept saying “I love you’s” in between. you were afraid of being too affectionate but you couldn’t help but show them when jake showers you a lot of it.

jake giggles like a kid then he hovers over you and it was his turn to attack you with kisses.

then both of you ate the sandwiches he made then watched the sunset together. and it was better than any romance movie you watched.

you and jake didn’t really care if you wanted to go public with your relationship. but now that both of you are driving back to your home town for the reunion, you couldn’t help but be nervous. everyone in high school knew your reputation especially that jake was involved. they don’t even know that you’re a single mom of a seven-year-old girl. and now, you’re dating the boy you had a crush on.

your friends won’t be coming because they had to babysit aera. you were hesitant at first to go but you promised jake that you’ll come with him. also, he really wanted to introduce you as his girlfriend to his friends.

“you ready?” jake unbuckles his seatbelt and then he notices you tensing up.

“you okay, baby?”

“what? oh. y-yeah. maybe not?”

“i’ll be with you the whole time,” jake places his hand on yours, “okay?”

you gulp then nod, “okay.”

jake unbuckles your seatbelt, “let’s go.”

when you and jake entered the hall, everyone was in their tables, probably chatting about their careers and relationships. they were all familiar faces. chaewon, the former class president, was chatting with your former homeroom teacher, mrs. bang. somi, one of jake’s admirers was with a date. ej was with his friend nicholas. those two were hard to separate.

“jake, my man!”

you and jake turn around and see jay approaching you. he and jake gave a brotherly hug. then out of no where, sunghoon barges in and headlocks jake.

“dude!”

“sim jaeyun is here!”

and apparently it caught everyone’s attention and they began whispering when they saw you with the famous “02z of daebom high.”

“so…jake.” sunghoon eyes you then back to jake, raising his eyebrows up and down.

“sunghoon, jay, you remember y/n, don’t you?” jake places his hand around your waist.

“how could we forget when she always screams in the hallways 'jake sim jjan!’ or ‘jakey, the sun can’t shine without your existence in the world!’”

“oh please, don’t.” your face becomes red from embarrassment.

“but y/n, i have to say, it’s about time jake did something more than spend his time on paperwork.”

the four of you chatted for a while before finding a table for the four of you. being in the same table with the three flower boys was your high school dream. it felt weird that it came true after many years but in different circumstances.

“baby, want something to eat?”

“not that hungry, thank you.”

“how about some appetizers?”

“meatballs with cheese would be nice though.”

“i’ll be right back,” jake eyes his friends, “be nice.”

“yes, sir!” sunghoon and jay do a salute before jake leaves you with them.

“y/n, tell me. has jake been giving you headaches?”

“no, actually, he’s been helping me a lot. he’d drop by and help tutor my daughter. then we’d have movie nights until we tuck aera to sleep. we go and do the most mundane dates but with him…he makes it so special.”

then you noticed jay and sunghoon just looking at you in awe.

“you really love him, don’t you?”

you nod, “i do. very much.”

“he may not be telling you this but, ever since he met you, his boring, ordinary life became vibrant and full of joy. i’ve never seen him that happy since.”

jay’s words made you feel accepted. he has always had a way with words but it was the first time you actually heard it.

“thanks, jay.”

“y/n, in case he does do something stupid, just give him a smack in the head and he’ll come around.”

“will try to remember that, sunghoon.”

“meatballs for my lady,” jake places the plate in front of you. jay and sunghoon were about to get some when jake slaps their hands.

“go get your own.”

jay was about to slap jake’s shoulder when mrs. bang starts to speak.

“class of 20xx, i’d like to start this reunion by saying, welcome home.”

everyone claps and you follow. your homeroom teacher continues by saying that there will be a program performed by somi and her friends. like before, she’s always had charisma when performing on stage.

there was games. pocky games were always the best. jay and sunghoon did it by vote. everyone cheered when the pocky stick became small in very bite. both of them didn’t want to loose but they didn’t want to touch each other’s lips either so jay took the fall.

there were some awardings too. the life of the party: sunghoon. shy prince: ej. math wizard: your jake. you got the artist award.

the event was still on-going but you and jake left early. you wanted jake to formally meet your parents.

on the drive going there, you felt nervous but you didn’t want to let jake know. as for jake, you can sense that he’s nervous because he was biting his tongue while looking at his feet.

“baby,” you call jake and when he turns around, “you cup his face.”

“they’re going to love you.”

this time, you’re assuring jake. you felt nervous too but you love jake and you know that he’s a good man that your parents will love.

you and jake waited for someone to answer the door. and when it opened, your mom answers it.

“hi, mom. dad.”

“y/n? who’s this?”

“this is jake. he’s my boyfriend.”

and your parents ended up loving jake. they remember him when you mentioned you went to daebom high together. suddenly, they told jake stories about you gushing over jake. you figured that you had quite the reputation here in town.

“oh jake, you should’ve seen y/n write your name at the back of her notebook with hearts.”

“mom!” you cover your face but your parents kept teasing you.

“jake, y/n might seem the free spirit type but she’s someone who has a big heart.”

“yes, sir. and i'll take care of her and aera.”

your dad kept offering jake some alcohol but you kept reminding him that both of you need to drive home. but a twist of events lead to jake becoming wasted and your parents saying that both of you should spend the night here.

“mom, i have to see aera.”

“y/n, you’re tired and jake is drunk. now, i don’t want both of you getting into an accident.”

you sigh, “yes, mom.”

you carried jake to your old room and lie him on his back. he kept calling your name but you just laughed, finding him cute with his red face.

“baby, i need to take off your shirt. okay?”

jake pouts and covers his chest, “my girlfriend will get mad at me.”

“jake, it’s me.”

jake slowly opens his eyes, “oHhh y/n!”

just like that, jake was fast asleep. you slowly lifted him so he can sit up. when he was sitting on the head board, you gently unbuttoned his shirt. you were thankful that he was wearing a white shirt inside. after that, you positioned him facing the side with a pillow under his head.

“talk about ‘i’ll take care of her.’”

you laugh softly but you lightly jake’s head. he looked really cute. sleeping like a baby.

“y/n…” jake says  slurring in his sleep.

“you and aera,” he lets out a hiccup, “are the best thing,” another hiccup, “that’s ever happened to me.”

for so long, you were so scared that when you let someone in your life, they’d leave you. for a while, you thought that you were content that it was just you and your daughter against the world. but eventually, this man right here, drunk and sleep talking is going to be a good father to aera. this man right here is the one you want to spend the rest if your life with.

you’ve been dating for a while now and he has been dropping by your place almost every day. so you asked him to move in with you. it wasn’t anything new except that jake doesn’t have to drive before he gets to see you and aera.

and when you slept at the same bed for the first time, it was a little awkward. but like before, both of you adjusted and got used to it.

you and jake would cuddle before you go to bed. he’d be the big spoon, whether you were facing behind him or you were lying on his chest.

“you know, i should’ve asked you sooner.”

“be grateful that i said yes in a heartbeat.”

“oh, thank you, sir jake.” you teasingly thank him like he was a knight.

the rest of the night, you’d have tickle fights until both of you will snuggle until you sleep.

but like any other relationship, there were always misunderstandings and conflicts.

“jake, all i'm saying is that we don’t have enough money to buy a new place.”

“y/n, i have enough to get us one.”

“didn’t it come across your mind that we should be buying it together?”

“well if maybe your job was—”

“what, jake? if i were a teacher, earning a monthly salary like you?”

“y/n, that’s not what i meant.”

but you walked out before he could finish. you didn’t talk to jake for the rest of the night. jake waa in the living room while you stayed in your bedroom. you were thankful that aera was oblivious to the situation.

after an hour, jake went inside your room and you were facing behind him.

“y/n…”

you didn’t say anything.

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that.”

“you think?”

“i just thought that if we get a new place, we’d finally settle in a home as a family. but truth is, wherever you are…you are my home.”

you finally turn around, but all you could do was stare at jake as he waits for you to say something.

“did you say family?”

‘yeah. i did.”

you didn’t think before hugging jake. he hugs you back, burying his face on your neck.

you and jake agreed that when the time is right, you’ll get a new place and everything else will fall into place.

you’ve been thinking for a while about what jake said. you did consider moving to a new place but your savings weren’t enough. but you also wanted to start a new life with jake in it.

so you decided to find a full-time job as an art teacher for elementary students. hoping that you’ll have enough income for your family’s future. and no, you didn’t force yourself. you choice this because it’s for the ones you love.

“ms. y/n, am i doing a okay?”

“you’re doing great, jungwon!” you give your student a big smile.

“niki you’re doing great too!”

you never fail to compliment your students. you might not have the best audiences when you were young. but you didn’t want to crush children’s dreams when they remind you of how you were.

“okay, kids. don’t forget that your homework is due tomorrow.”

you were thankful that your class was the last one. you were in the middle of fixing your things when someone knocked at the door.

“hey.”

“hey. your class is done?”

“yeah. well, i clocked out early.”

oh, right. jake finally became a full-time math teacher. both of you work at the same school. he thought that he should be helping you so you can get a new place. besides, it’s a great opportunity for him to go home with you and aera.

“are you not feeling well?” you stand up and held jake’s forehead but he shakes his head.

“actually, we are going out for a while.”

your eyes grew wide, “where are we going?”

“i’ll tell you when we get there.”

“jake.”

“it’s going to be fun,” you raised your brow at jake then he says, “i promise.”

next thing you knew, you and jake were in the car taking the route to  your hometown. the next surprising thing is when he parked in front of your old school.

“what are we doing here?”

jake just gives you a smile before getting out of the car. he opens the door for you, kneeling down.

“come with me.”

it might seem weird that jake always makes your heart flutter for the bare minimum but heck, this is jake sim we’re talking about.

both if you were walking down the hallways of the school. it felt weird walking in the same place where you called jake’s name to get his attention. now, you’re holding each other’s hand.

“don’t worry, the teachers know that we’re visiting.”

“any reason why we’re visiting?”

“when we reach the end of the hall, you’ll know.”

so you and jake continue walking. both of you stop then jake holds your hand.

“for this part, i'm going to need you to close your eyes.”

you were hesitant at first but you did what jake asked. he was holding your hand the whole time you walked with your eyes closed. then he stopped.

“wait a minute.”

jake’s lets go if your hand.

“you can open them now.”

you were greeted with lights behind jake. the banner with the sign, “will you accept me?” then you realized that this is how you confessed to jake in high school. and you’re in the same room.

jake was holding a bouquet with pink, white, and red roses with baby’s breath. and he had a ring on his other hand.

“y/n, i never would’ve thought that my boring, plain, life would be so colorful, vibrant, and joyful. you and aera…i couldn’t imagine how my life would turn out if you weren’t in my life. you let me become part of your life, and i want to spend my remaining days with you and our family.”

“so,” jake kneels down in front of you. the action caught your breath away.

“will you accept me?”

you gave yourself a minute to process what was happening. and when you did, you finally say…

“jake, i appreciate what you have done but…

“it would be a shame if i don’t say yes.”

you laugh and you let your tears fall on your face.

“yes, yes, yes.”

 jake stands up and finally gives you a tight hug. you bury your face in his chest.

jake kisses your head and whispers, “i love you.”

you lift your head up, “i love you.”

the last time you fell in love, things might not have gone the way you wanted them to. you doubted a lot of things and distanced yourself. then you met a man who proved to you that you deserve a second chance.

this time, you were sure that it will be different and will be the best thing that has ever happened to you.

***

epilogue

[m-jelly]

It bloomed in spring - chapter 1

@kenkopanda-art thank you for the wonderful banner.

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Ao3 LINK HERE

Words: 5.4k

Genre and tags: Romance, fluff, royal AU, emperor Levi, falling in love, forbidden love, Kuchel, Levi's father.

Concept of story: You are just a simple maid who keeps her head down, but when Emperor Levi is crowned and begins living at the place you work for you get noticed. You try to keep to the rules and serve your Emperor, however, he seems rather taken by you and slowly pulls you into a brighter world. You are aware that an arranged marriage to a princess is expected of him, so you try your best to not make things romantic with Levi, but you both are falling hard for each other. Levi tries to fight the politicians and stop the engagement at first due to his distaste towards it, but then he pushes harder because he's fallen for you. Unable to hold back, you both start a romantic affair. He spoils you and makes love to you around the palace and on political outings. Emotions run high on many sides, but he finally changes the law and can now marry anyone he wishes. However, the princess who was chosen to marry him is not going to let the change go lightly.

Warnings: Reader is slapped by her boss. Reader is asked to kneel on rice by boss, but Levi saves you.

Chapter 1 plot: Levi finally moves into the palace and you both meet in an unusual way. You take care of Levi's father. You and Levi share a nice moment together. Levi tells you of his dislike for the push for an arranged marriage with a princess. You help Levi sleep.

Part 2 Part3 Part4 Part5 Part6 Part7 Part8 Part9 Part10 Part11 Part12 Part13

A crisp spring air clung to the grass and coated it with a silvery shine. Cobwebs sparkled like diamond necklaces being held up and presented to a lover. Snow was losing its grip on the flowers that fought against it. The cold air danced across the ground towards the large white palace that was nestled by a vast forest, below imposing mountains and gazed upon the stretching ocean.

Paradis was a beautiful powerful country, which had been deprived of a good leader in years. A new age was coming due to the recent crowning of Levi Ackerman. Kuchel Ackerman had a romantic relationship with the cousin of the last Emperor, he was the only living decedent. They lived a happy life far away from the main city and raised their son together, but when Levi reached eight, his father became sick and couldn’t do much, so Levi had to bring in the money. Levi’s father was hunted down, but due to his lung issues and fatigue, he wasn’t well enough to be an Emperor so it was trusted to Levi.

You arose in your bed just as the sun began rising for the day. You sat up with your hair a mess and head foggy from sleep. You released a yawn and began dressing in your maid attire. You pinned your hair up instead of using a bonnet and made sure your apron was on correctly. You sat on your bed and strapped on your boots. A long sigh escaped you, along with the very little happiness you had inside you. You gave yourself a little pep talk before jumping to your feet and getting to work before the other maids and butlers.

You walked to the kitchen and gathered a bucket of water. You lugged it all the way to the palace steps and plopped it down. You retrieved a brush from the cleaning cupboard near the entrance and returned to the steps. You cast out the water from the bucket allowing the stairs to be coated. You huffed at the job you had but knew everything had to be perfect for the Emperor. You scrubbed the steps one by one and ignored the whistles and cat calls from the guards going about their day. You couldn’t help your bosom from bouncing at your actions.

Charles descended the stairs to you at the bottom working your way up. “Good morning to you miss. You’re doing a fine job this morning. You beat me to my commands. I intended to let one of those vile maids do the job.”

A smile graced your lips as you looked at the head butler. “I enjoy being outside. Spring is here now. Almost seems poetic. We, ourselves, have come out of a long frost to welcome hope into our lives. I do hope the Emperor is of a kinder nature than the others.”

Charles checked his pocket watch. “Truth be told, I have heard a murmur that his tongue can be harsh but he means well. He comes from a humble beginning. He was poor like us.”

“I have hope then.”

He chuckled a little as he adjusted his glasses. “I am rather tired of being mistreated.”

You placed your hand on Charles’ upper arm to give him some comfort. “You care for all of us that work here. We’re so grateful to you.”

“I’m glad.” He sighed. “Make sure you get some breakfast, alright? I don’t want one of my best maids getting sick.”

“I will get something once I’ve cleaned the stairs.”

“Thank you.”

You frowned a little. “When does he arrive?”

He looked down the cobblestone road to the palace. “I was informed by a messenger that it would be around midday.”

You nodded as you began to organise what you were going to do in your head. “Very well. I know what I must do for the day.”

“Don’t push yourself.”

You bowed to your boss. “Yes, Charles.”

He let go a long sigh. “I will return to my duties. Do come see me if you need me.”

“I will.”

“Have a pleasant morning.”

You bowed and watched Charles go inside the palace. You continued your job and cleaned the stairs fully. You returned everything to their homes before making your way to the staff dining room. You sat and helped yourself to tea and food. You preferred being alone as most of the staff came and went. You were tired of making friends and losing them quickly from people moving around.

Wendy plopped herself down in front of you, her cute cherub face framed by her bonnet. “You didn’t join me for breakfast.”

You smiled a little. “You’re joining me now.”

She hummed which slowly turned into an angry growl. “Just spend more time with me!”

“Alright.”

She threw her arms out. “Thank you! I mean damn!” She gasped as she lit up at the thought bubbling away in her head. “Have you heard about the Emperor?”

You shrugged a little as you reflected on the very little information you had. “All I know is his father didn’t want to take the post due to his sickness with his lungs, so his son has taken over. With regards to his son, I know he has a harsh tongue but he means well. That’s all.”

She patted the table. “I heard he’s really hot! Plus, his mother is stunning and his father is incredible.”

“You know very well we can’t be romantically involved with the royal family. He’s probably already engaged to a princess somewhere.”

She grinned at you. “Doesn’t mean we can’t stare at him.”

You cleaned up your food and drink. “Keep your head down and just work hard.”

She chased after you. “Just a little look?”

“I suppose that is alright.”

She gasped when the sound of carriage wheels rolled on the pathway up to the palace. “They’re here! Are you going to greet them?”

You shook your head. “No, I have work to do.”

“Suit yourself! I’ll inform you later!”

You waved to your friend and made your way to the main office where the Emperor would work. You let out a long sigh and began dusting first. You climbed up the stairs and started dusting the shelves lined with books. You noticed a little dusty bunny in the corner. You leaned over to get it as someone entered the room. You growled a little and reached further to get it. You wobbled a little and slipped off the ladders.

You screamed when you fell and knew you were going to break something in your body, but you didn’t expect to land in warm arms and be wrapped in a clean lemon scent. You opened your eyes to be greeted with beautiful and dazzling steel blue ones. Your cheeks burned as you stared at the man holding you. You slowly registered the simple crown on top of his raven undercut hair. You gasped a little when you saw a slight blush on his cheeks.

Levi felt his heart flutter as he gazed at you. “You weren’t at the greeting. Did I do something to offend you?”

You lowered your head. “Please, put me down your majesty.”

Levi sighed and reluctantly place you on your feet. He watched you gather your cleaning things and continue to work. “You didn’t answer my question.”

You stopped and bowed deeply to him. “I have much work to do. I believed that you would value a clean office over another faceless person greeting you into a home you probably don’t care much for.”

Levi studied your face and smiled a little. “You’re a special thing, aren’t you? You’re right.” He walked over to the shelf and ran his white-gloved finger over the shelf. “Spotless. Your cleaning skills are impressive.”

“Thank you.”

He turned to you and glanced at your chest. He looked away a little to avoid being caught staring at your cleavage. “How are you with medical care or caring for people?”

You blushed. “Well. I have cared for others in the past.”

He hummed and strode over to the door. He opened to reveal Charles. “Charles, is it?”

Charles bowed. “Yes, your majesty.”

“I want this maid to be transferred to my father’s care.”

You blushed. “Wh-what? I couldn’t possibly.”

Levi locked eyes with you. “You refuse?”

You gulped hard. “Ah, I umm…well…”

“What’s your name?”

You welled up as you felt like you were about to lose your job. You bowed and told him your name. “I’ve worked in the palace since I was twelve. It’s been over ten years.”

Levi frowned a little. “Why are you crying?”

You stood up. “I am about to lose my job, am I not?”

“You are not.” He pulled out a hankie and wiped your tears away. “Why would I fire a maid who my butler speaks highly of, cleans my office and makes it look brand new, and has dedicated so much of her life to this palace? I implore you to take care of my father.”

You blushed. “Your majesty.”

Levi offered his gloved hand as he stood there proud in his white uniform. “Just meet him.”

You took Levi’s hand and walked with him to the stairs and descended together making you feel like an Empress. You looked at the hall entrance to see a woman who looked just like Levi. Next to Levi’s mother was Levi’s father. You blushed at the average height man, but his looks were dazzling. He had a scar over his right eyebrow, his eyes a sweet blue, his jaw defined and strong that was lined with a well-kept trimmed beard. His hair was black and past his shoulders and seemed well looked after. He had broad shoulders and muscles. You could tell Levi got his looks from his mother, but his build was from his father.

Levi stopped at the bottom. “Mother, father?” He introduced you. “She will be looking after you, father. They are Kuchel and Sebastian.”

You bowed deeply. “Honour to meet you both.”

Kuchel gasped. “You are a cute thing!”

Sebastian chuckled. “Don’t mind her, she gets excited easily. I’m guessing you’ll be looking after me.”

You stood up and felt the nerves filtering in. “His majesty has requested it, yes, but I have yet to agree.”

Reuben, the man who ran the palace, grabbed your upper arm and dragged you away. “Excuse me while I borrow this maid.”

You felt your heart in your throat as Reuben dragged you to an empty room. Reuben had run this palace with an iron fist. He’d beat anyone who would go against him. He needed order in the palace and right now you were going against his teaching. As soon as he released you from his grip in one of many sitting rooms, you knew you had to beg for forgiveness. You stumbled and dropped to your knees and got ready to beg.

Reuben glared at you with his orange-brown eyes before he backhanded you across the face. “When the Emperor asks you to do something, you say yes.”

You knelt back up and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He grabbed the top of your dress and pulled you close. “You do as he says, no questions asked. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

He sighed. “Better. As punishment, I want you to come to my office every day for a week at 7 pm. You will kneel upon rice and not make a sound. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He opened the door. “Now get a move on, his majesty is waiting and you’ve caused enough trouble as is.” He sighed and led the walk back to the royal family, his smart shoes tapping away on the mirror clean marble floor. He smiled brightly at Levi and his parents. “I am so sorry for the delay.” He bowed deeply. “I was simply having a word with the young maid. She will be looking after his highness.” He looked back at you. “Won’t you?”

You bowed deeply to Sebastian. “Forgive my rudeness earlier. I will be honoured to serve you and assist you.”

Levi held your chin and looked at your face. He stared at the red mark on your cheek. He saw you were avoiding his gaze. He sighed and knew not to press the subject. “Thank you.”

Sebastian’s blue eyes stayed locked onto you as you moved around him. He smiled at how cute you looked and noticed how his son would gaze at you. You had stood out from the rest of the workers. You were this cute shining light. He knew his son didn’t understand the feelings inside him because he’d never fallen in love before, but he made love to a woman before. Sebastian had met a past girlfriend who was smitten with Levi. Once the two learned more about bedroom stuff, she was even more smitten.

Sebastian called your name. “Do you have someone in your life?”

You poured him a cup of tea. “Someone?”

He nodded. “As in a lover.”

You blushed. “I do not, your highness.”

He smiled knowing this was a little victory for his son. “Would you like to find someone?”

“I’m afraid I do not have the time for a lover.” You handed him the cup. “I work too much.” You blushed. “Not that I’m saying you work me hard. I am simply saying that this job is my life.”

“I understand.” He smiled a little as he remembered when he was young and living his life in the palace. “Palace staff work and live here. I was raised in this palace, but I left for love.”

You smiled a little as you thought about how you saw Kuchel and Sebastian look and act with each other. “You and her highness have a beautiful love.”

He chuckled. “I fell for her so quickly. She was working in this bar and I just…” He laughed at how nervous he had been with Kuchel. “I might appear confident and smooth, but I fumbled so much with her. She called me an adorable hunk and we started dating.”

You giggled at the image in your head. “Adorable.” You blushed when Sebastian looked up at you. “S-Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He reached over and took your hand. “Relax a little.”

You yanked your hand away when Levi entered the room. You bowed deeply to him. “Your majesty.”

Levi had noticed the hand-holding and felt something inside him. He walked closer and looked down at his father. “How are you feeling?”

Sebastian smiled brightly. “Perfect. This lovely maid has taken excellent care of me these past few days.”

Levi cast his gaze at you and admired the beautiful colours in them. “Thank you.”

You bowed to Levi as you blushed. “It has been an honour.”

He walked closer when he saw some of your hair slip out from being tied up. He reached over and froze when you flinched. “Are you alright?”

You looked up at him. “Y-Yes, your majesty.”

“I’m just fixing your hair, is that alright?”

You blushed. “M-My mistake.”

He smiled a little as he moved your soft hair. He stepped closer to get a better look meaning he was overwhelmed by your natural scent mixed with a delicious soap smell of honey and milk. He finished putting your hair up for you and pulled back. “There.”

You lightly touched your hair with a soft smile on your face. “Thank you.”

“You don’t wear a bonnet like the others.”

You looked away a little. “That’s because I think I look terrible with it, almost like a baby face.”

He gently caressed your cheek and hummed in thought at how soft you were, how plump and kissable your lips were. “It’s refreshing to see a maid showing her hair.” Levi felt his father’s eyes boring into him. He pulled back from you as he blushed a little. “What are the rest of your duties for today?”

You fiddled with your apron. “Well, it is seven soon and I must go see Sir Reuben.”

“What for?”

You gulped hard. “A meeting. We discuss the day.”

Levi hummed as he studied you, he could you were shaking and the paleness in your cheeks wasn’t right. “Enjoy your meeting.”

You bowed. “Thank you.”

Levi watched you hurry off and felt something sinking in his heart. “You saw that too, didn’t you?”

Sebastian got up and slowly walked over to Levi. “Something isn’t right. I never liked the Reuben when I was here as a kid. He was a snot-nosed brat.”

“I’m concerned.”

“Then do something about it.”

Levi nodded and hurried to the door. “I’ll get mum to look after you.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Alright.”

He walked out of the room and wandered down to where his mother would be. He opened the door and peered in. “Mother? Father needs you.”

Kuchel gasped in delight as she bounced up and down. “Bassy! I have kisses for him.”

Levi groaned. “Alright.” He pulled back and watched his excited mother jump about. “I have an important meeting to go to.”

Kuchel titled her head as she walked with her son. “What’s wrong?” She smiled softly. “Is it your cute maid?”

He opened the door for her. “Yes. I am concerned about mistreatment towards her.”

Kuchel hummed. “You should go to her.” She squealed in delight when Sebastian grabbed her from behind. “Bassy!”

Sebastian growled as he nibbled the crook of her neck. “Come here sugar.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He closed the door and made his way down to Reuben’s office. He threw the door open to see you on your knees with tears in your eyes and your body shaking. “Tch, what’s going on here?”

Reuben stood up and bowed to you. “Your majesty. I was not expecting you. I’m currently dishing out punishment. Your staff were taught they should respect you and your family. She showed no respect towards you, so I am dishing out punishment so she can remember her role.”

Levi rushed over to you. “Stand.”

You shook your head. “I deserve this.”

He held your upper arm. “Stand, now.”

You welled up and let the tears roll down your cheeks. “I can’t. It hurts.”

Levi picked you up like a bride to see what you’d been kneeling on, rice. He carried you to Reuben’s desk and sat you on it. He pushed your dress up to see rice clinging to your knees. He dusted the rice off to see the damage on your legs and knees. “How long have you been doing this?”

You looked away. “I…”

“You can tell me.”

You shook and started crying. “Forgive me, but I cannot. I fear the punishment.”

Levi cupped the back of your head and pulled it to his chest. “There won’t be any.” He glared at Reuben. “Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

Reuben held his head high. “Due to her refusing you, I talked some sense into her.”

“Sense?”

“I slapped her.” He stared at you. “I told her to come here to my office for a week. Today is the last day. I make her kneel on dried rice from seven all the way until midnight.”

Levi cupped your face and smiled at you. “Close your eyes.” He smiled when you did. “Good girl.” He walked over to Reuben and slammed his fist into his face. He grabbed Reuben’s shirt and yanked him close. “There was only one correct thing you said in your statement. They are my staff, therefore punishment should be conducted by me. Do I make myself clear?”

Reuben nodded. “Yes, your majesty!”

“From now on, she’s with me. If you want her, you go through me.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Levi yanked Reuben down and slammed his knee into the man’s face. He released Reuben and watched him roll around on the floor. He walked over to you. “I need you to keep your eyes closed, alright?”

You nodded. “Yes, your majesty.”

“I’m going to touch you now, don’t worry.” He lifted you up like a bride and carried you out of the room. “Bear with me for a moment.” He carried you through the halls and down to the kitchen. He sat you down on a counter. “You may open your eyes.”

You opened them to be greeted with Levi’s steel blue ones. You glanced to his strong jawline to see he’d inherited that from his father. You reached out and touched his jaw making him blush. “You have stubble. Are you troubled, your majesty?”

He remembered his sleepless nights since arriving, he had been thinking about so many things with work. He’d not told a soul about what had been going on in his head. “A great burden has been placed upon me. A whole country for me to command.” He pulled away from you and grabbed a cloth. He ran it under cold water. “So many lives that rely on me.” He returned to you and dragged up your dress. He watched your hair stand on end, but the shift of your hips told you no fear but arousal. He glanced up at you to see you nibbling your lip a little. “Could you hold your dress up for me?”

You gripped your dress tightly. “Yes, your majesty.”

He pushed your legs tightly together before lightly wrapping the cold wet cloth around them to cool your legs down. He held it on your legs. “You don’t mind me holding this here, do you?”

You shook your head. “No, your majesty.”

He sighed. “Along with all those lives, I have countless important people telling me what I should and should not be doing. I have others planning who I should be engaged to. I have to marry some rich royal woman I don’t know to make others happy.”

“Such heavy burdens. No wonder you look so tired.” You touched under his right eye. “Perhaps you need a special tea to encourage sleep.”

“Will it be made by you?”

You looked around the empty kitchen and sighed. “It would seem so. There is no one else here but you and I.”

He let a smile slip. “Then I would most welcome a tea made by your lovely hands.”

You inspected your hands. “I fail to see the loveliness within them, your majesty.”

He placed the cloth on the side and took your hands. “Let me show you.” He pointed. “Here, here.” He traced a pattern. “Here.”

You pulled your hands back. “Your majesty.”

He frowned a little at your reaction. “Something wrong?”

You slipped off the side and wobbled a little on your feet. “I shall make you your tea.”

He followed you and stood right behind you. “Have I upset you?”

You shook your head. “Not at all.”

He placed his hand on the counter. “I prefer truth.”

You placed the tea on a tray, along with warm water with soothing herbs. “You are Emperor and I am a maid. The way you touched me would be frowned upon. I do believe in you and what you stand for, therefore I cannot allow things to happen that may lead to misunderstandings.”

“You don’t need to protect me.”

You picked up the tray. “I have worked here for more than ten years, your majesty, I know how people are and the system. I shall escort you to your room.” You left the kitchen and made your way up the stairs. You winced a little at your knees and legs. “Ow.”

Levi caught you as you fell backwards. “You making a habit of falling into my arms?”

You blushed. “No.” You walked up the last steps and moved down the hall to see the stars and moon shining outside. You gripped your tray and blushed when you saw Levi peer around and looked at you.

Levi hummed a little as he processed your actions. He glanced outside at the view. “Do you perhaps like the moon and stars?”

You balanced the tray on your arm and opened his bedroom door. “Indeed. Seasons come and go, along with people but they stay. I know we revolve around the sun and the stars do change, but they always come back. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect. I enjoy how you view the world, but it is also rather sad.”

You walked across the grand room to his bedside table. You placed the tray down and gazed at his massive bed with fresh clean sheets. You looked up at the roof of the bed and the thin white sheets as curtains. “You should drink your tea and rest.” You walked across the room to the closet and opened it to see a room full of clothes. You selected night things for Levi and turned to see him standing in the doorway. “Will these suffice?”

He slipped over to you and touched them. “Yes.”

You moved past him and placed it on the bed for him. “As I said, you should rest.” You approached his fireplace and started a nice fire for him. “The frost is returning tonight, so this will keep you warm.”

Levi pulled his clothes off. “I am grateful.” He watched you tend to his fire. “Maybe I should move you to my care instead of my father’s.”

You stood up and turned to Levi and saw he was only in bottoms. Your eyes travelled over his muscles and scars, along with the prominent V and a treasure trail of black hair going from his belly button and down below the band of his bottoms. You tore your eyes away from him. “I do not think I am qualified enough for that. You are in the care of Charles the head butler, along with Barb the head maid.”

Levi approached you. “You are better than you think you are.”

“We barely know each other, therefore your claim that I am better than I perceive myself to be is false.”

He lightly touched your cheek. “I have observed you this week. You are better than you claim.”

You let out a long sigh and moved to the side of his bed. “You should rest.”

“Tell me if this is asking too much of you, but would you stay with me?”

You gulped hard before bowing your head. “Of course, your majesty.” You pilled back the covers and put his pillow up. “Sit.”

Levi climbed in and watched you tuck him in. “You seem to always go the extra mile.”

You picked up his cup of tea and handed it over. “I go as far as I have been trained to go.”

He sipped the tea and hummed at the mixture of flavours. “Chamomile tea with honey.”

“It should assist you with your sleeping issues.”

He watched you check the warm water with herbs. “I appreciate it. What is that?”

“It is warm water with soothing herbs and plants in, such as lavender. You inhale the steam and it relaxes you. I brought it as insurance.”

He hummed and sipped more. “Please, take a seat.”

You bowed and collected a chair. “I appreciate it.” You sat down and placed your hands in your lap and avoided Levi’s seeking gaze. “Thank you, your majesty.”

“So, you said you had been in this job since you were twelve.”

You nodded shyly at Levi remembering something so trivial. “Correct.”

He played with his teacup a little as he tossed questions around in his head. “Why here? Surely there is a better job position for you.”

You shook your head. “The city is cruel. For young ladies, there is not much you can do. I was lucky that Charles knew my family. Once I reached twelve and money was an issue, he suggested I work for the palace. So, I assisted him here. I did the basics and the Emperor never asked for much. He died a few years after I joined and the palace was rather empty. It became rather cold here. Most people departed because often staff enjoy having a master.”

“Why didn’t you leave?”

You shrugged as you reflected on your life. “Perhaps I felt some loyalty to Charles as he did create a position for me here, or it is quite possible that I am rather taken with this place.”

Levi finished his drink. “What is it about this place you like?”

You smiled a little as memories of seasons coming and going passed through your mind. “This palace is located in the perfect spot. In winter we gain snow due to the mountains. Spring we as covered in a crisp frost. In summer the flowers have spread from the forest and bloomed so brightly and the sun does kiss the ocean so perfectly. In autumn the leaves turn red and orange and flutter delicately in the breeze.”

Levi could imagine it all with the added sparkle in your eyes as you recalled all those moments. “It sounds divine.”

“It is.” You smiled at Levi. “I do believe you will be rather happy here with your parents. There are also many places to explore. If you go through the forest, you’ll come across a waterfall that I do believe has a small cave. You can walk along the mountain paths and see the goats that play up there. If you are not one for forests or mountains, there is the pleasant walk to the seashore where you have your own beach, dock and ships. The city itself is a delight too.”

“Would you give me a tour?”

You blushed a little. “If no other can take you.”

Levi hummed a little at your words. “You’re avoiding me.”

You took his teacup and replaced it with the bowl of water. “It would not be wise of me to become too familiar with you.”

“Are the rules and laws that bad?”

You sighed. “You said before the pressures that are placed upon you. You are already being asked to find a bride.”

He studied you, really studied you and felt comfort in your presence that he’d never felt with anyone else before, but also a small desire that he knew would build in time. “What if I change that law?”

“I’m sure then you’ll be able to marry for love, along with anyone that comes after you.” You giggled for a moment making Levi blush at the sweet sound. “I have always found it a little amusing how royals all marry each other. Surely there will be relatives marrying each other?”

He tore his gaze from you to control his heart. “Tch, disgusting. You’re right though. Some foreign countries have married distant cousins. It’s fucking horrifying.” He blushed and looked over at you. “Sorry for my language.”

You laughed. “Don’t be sorry. You are correct.” You looked around for anyone, but you knew it was only you and Levi. You leaned closer to him. “It’s fucking nasty.”

He smiled. “I like this honest you.”

You sat back. “That was the commoner within me. Now, inhale the steam before the water creates no more.”

He nodded and inhaled what came from the water. “Mm.” He smiled softly as felt his body relax. Images of you flooded his mind and he knew he would be able to sleep well. “Perfect. Thank you.”

You removed the bowl from him and placed it on the tray. “Let me help you.” You stood up and leaned over Levi allowing you to intake his clean soap and lemon scent. You lay his pillows down and pulled back. “Lie back, your majesty.”

Levi lay back on the bed. “I may be asking too much, but could you stay with me?”

“Nightmares?”

He nodded. “Often.”

“I shall stay by your side until I believe you are safe.”

He sighed and felt his whole body relax. “Thank you.” He closed his eyes and drifted off for a while. He awoke a while later to see you were sleeping in your chair. He slipped from his bed and moved you to his sofa by the fire. He covered you with a blanket and placed a pillow below your head. “Sleep well.” He returned to his bed and drifted back to sleep.

As the hours went by, you finally woke up for the day. You blushed at your state knowing the Emperor once again had carried you. You folded up the blanket and place the pillow to the side. You collected Levi’s tray and went about your day as nothing had happened.

[french-vanilla-in-the-clouds]

𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐈𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Reader x Doctor Strange

Summary: Okay, so I was watching Doctor Strange last week, and this scene came up and I just-

Stephen and his apprentice Y/N join the Avengers at Stark Tower. A friendly competition ensues where the sorcerers’ musical knowledge is put to the test. Yes, they’re only friends, but Y/N feels something more for her mentor. Will hidden affections finally come to light through a bit of music?

Of course, Tony, Natasha, Peter, Clint, Thor, Bruce, Steve, and Wanda all have a little something to say... yeah, essentially the whole gang.

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

We’ll put out to sea

and we’ll perfect our chemistry.

And by and by we’ll defy

A little bit of gravity...

“‘Kokomo’, released July 1988 by The Beach Boys. Album title; Still Cruisin’. Really Stark, I thought you said it would be a hard one this time.”

Tony paused the stereo, and turned to Stephen, a triumphant smirk on his face.

“Yeah, no. Sorry Strange, ‘Kokomo’ was actually released November 1988. Nice try though.”

Before Tony could get too excited, Y/N piped up from her spot by Stephen’s side. “That’s where you’re wrong. While the song may have become a chart topper in November 1988 after serving in Buena Vista’s Cocktail soundtrack, it actually debuted four months earlier in July.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Crap, she’s right.” Natasha laughed, turning her phone around to show the song’s details.

“How do you two even remember all this junk?” Wanda asked incredulously.

“It’s because they’re both weirdos. It’s no kidding they get along so well.” Clint joked, picking at his nails.

Stephen turned to Y/N and smiled before squeezing her shoulder kindly. “I’d be lost without my apprentice,” he said with a wink. She returned a quick smile of her own before turning away to hide a foolish grin that was forming on her face.

It was another Friday night, and the Avengers had gathered at Stark Tower to review battle plans for their mission the next day. Despite Bruce Banner’s best efforts though, strategizing was soon forgotten, and everyone began chatting instead.

As the night wore on, Stephen Strange and his apprentice had astounded everyone with their vast musical knowledge, and the night’s goal had become finding a song to ‘stump the wizards’.

One by one, each Avenger would suggest a song from their spot at the war table. Peter played ‘Midnight Memories’, Natasha chose ‘Back in Black’, even Thor tried his luck with ‘Toxic’. Despite their best efforts though, the sorcerers knew each and every song title, release date, and artist, almost like they were perfectly synchronized.

Stephen and Y/N had become nearly inseparable within the last eight months. When Y/N first arrived at Kamar-Taj the year prior, it was clear that she had the makings of a brilliant sorcerer. She promptly surpassed the other students in spell work and training, soon catching the attention of Doctor Strange himself. Stephen was quick to take her under his wing and serve as a mentor.

Now they fought, trained, and practiced the mystic arts together. They had become so close, that against her better judgment, Y/N began harbouring an epic crush on her mentor.

“I guess it’s my turn.” Steve laughed, running his fingers through his hair.

“You’re our last hope Cap, they’ve guessed every song. If you don’t choose a really hard one, we might have to kick you off the team.” Natasha teased.

“No pressure though, Mr Rogers, Sir. You’re awesome.” Peter assured him with a wide smile.

“Alright, thanks kid,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure he needed that.”

“Back to my roots I guess,” Steve decided with a shrug. “My parents used to like this one. Let’s see how you two do with it.”

Stephen leaned in close to whisper in Y/N’s ear. “I think we can take the old man. Just one more round and we’re champions.”

“Stephen,” Y/N began with a breathy laugh, “Quit making me nervous... and tell your cloak to relax,” she said, gesturing to the agitated cloak of levitation that was flapping about as the game progressed.

Stephen only gave a slight chuckle before sitting back and clearing his throat. He turned to Steve and gave him a sharp look. “Bring it on, Captain.”

Y/N felt a shiver travel down her neck at his words. She could still feel the phantom touch of his breath against her skin from when he had leaned in and whispered to her. She turned to look at him, and smiled at the face that had become so comfortably familiar to her this past year. If only he felt the same way she thought with a twinge of sadness.

Stephen turned and saw Y/N’s look of dismay. “You alright there?” He asked, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She gasped before answering back as coolly as she could manage. “Definitely! I guess the competition is getting to me, is all. Let’s do this!”

He nodded and turned back to the table.

“Ready, you two?” Steve asked

“Shoot, Rogers.”

Tony passed Steve a remote to the stereo. Everyone waited in anticipation as he pressed a button, and the music started playing.

The Dutch in old Amsterdam do it,

Not to mention the Finns.

Folks in Siam do it;

Think of Siamese twins...

Y/N listened to the old timey tune and grinned. Steve wasn’t kidding when he said he’d go back to his roots, this song was from the 1920’s! A song of his childhood, surely.

Some Argentines

Without means do it.

People say in Boston

even beans do it...

“1928, Cole Porter.” Stephen started confidently. “It debuted in Porter’s first Broadway musical, Paris. Great choice Steve,” he added with a wink.

“Slow down, Wizard. You have yet to give us the song title.” Thor called out from behind a mug of beer.

Stephen turned to Y/N and granted her a mischievous grin, his eyes glinting with humour. “Y/N?”

The apprentice bounced in her seat, excited that she knew the answer. “Let’s do it! Let’s fall in love!” She called out, hugging Stephen.

He pulled out of her embrace and locked eyes with her. “I already have,” he said in a low voice, before pulling her in for a kiss.

Y/N tensed with surprise as Strange leaned forward, lips against her own. After a moment though, she melted into his touch, deepening the kiss, and smiling at the faint prickle of his beard against her skin.

“I love you Stephen,” she whispered hoarsely, not daring to pull away quite yet.

“I know,” he responded, smiling against her lips.

“Oh great. The wizards are in love.” Tony deadpanned from across the room.

That was enough to make them part. Stephen rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and Y/N gave an embarrassed cough once they realized that the Avengers were all gawking.

“So, that was unexpected.” Bruce said with a quiet laugh.

“Mr Stark, what just happened?” Peter asked incredulously.

“Great question. Steve?”

“Well, they got it right. The song’s called ‘Let’s do it (Let’s fall in love).’”

Wanda giggled from her seat. “Well, you two took that literally.”

“Alright guys,” Clint chuckled. “Let’s give these two some privacy.”

With that, the Avengers filed out, whooping and clapping before leaving the room.

“To love!” Thor toasted before being dragged out by Bruce.

“Congratulations!” Peter called out from behind Natasha.

Tony was the last to leave. “I hope you two know how sickening you are,” he said sarcastically. He paused for a moment, then quirked a brow, “Keep it up.”

“Thanks Stark.”

Tony winked before leading himself out.

The door finally closed, leaving Stephen and Y/N alone together.

Stephen took both of Y/N’s hands in his, and smiled. “Well, that was sufficiently awkward. Anyway, what would you say if I suggested we kiss again?”

Y/N gave his hands a squeeze. “I’d say, let’s do it!”

Let’s fall in love...

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

Try reading To The Daisy!!!

“I’d be lost without my apprentice”... see what I did there *eh*??

Oh, in case your interested, here’s my favourite rendition of Cole Porter’s Let’s do it (Let’s fall in love), it’s great!!

Something about Thor listening to ‘Toxic’ just makes me so happy. Oh, and Peter is totally a Directioner. Anyway, what songs do you guys think suits each Avenger????? Now I’m curious.

So this was my first Avengers fic. *yay!* Anyway, I’ll be off now. REQUESTS ARE OPEN

HAVE A BRILLIANT DAY!!!

[jaskiersvalley]

💜✨ This is an Amazing Creator Award! Your creations are incredible, and they light up every dashboard they land on. Pass this on to eight of your favorite creators to show your appreciation and let them know their art is loved! ✨💜

Bready, my wonderful friend. Thank you for this ask, it really made me smile. You're an eternal delight and I want to say thank you for your thoughtfulness and constant kindness. Have some silly Lambskel as a token of my gratitude.

CW: Clowns (which reminds me of this post)

Children grew up at an alarming rate. Eskel could have sworn it was only a few blinks ago that Geralt took guardianship of baby Ciri with Yennefer. Now, she was turning six and Eskel had been roped into chaperoning a birthday party. Again. Though he did have a scrawled invite arrive in the post, painstakingly stickered, glittered and signed by Ciri. It was nice that she wanted him there but Eskel knew that if she hadn't invited him as a guest then Geralt would have been gently bullying him into helping out on the day anyway. Not like Eskel minded, he loved Ciri and would happily do anything for her.

The big day rolled round and Eskel turned up early at Geralt's house. There were already balloons around the door, the house inside was decorated with birthday banners and, in true Ciri fashion, dragons. That year she had very sweetly demanded a clown for her birthday and Eskel was curious to see whether Geralt had given in despite his strong dislike of them. Why someone felt the need to put on so much makeup and parade around in ridiculous clothes was beyond reason. Once, while drunk, Geralt had admitted it made him uneasy to the point of it actually being a fear.

"Ah, you're here," Geralt said as he stepped out of the kitchen and spotted that Eskel had let himself in. "I need to have a word with you."

A strong hand wrapped around Eskel's bicep and tugged him into the kitchen. He went willingly enough, curious as to what secret Geralt was going to let him in on this time. They stood in silence for a moment, Geralt watching him with serious eyes.

"Don't fuck the clown."

Frankly, Eskel was a little offended at the request. "Is this because of the demon stripper Yen hired for your birthday?" The look Geralt gave him was answer enough. "Come on, she was hot, was off the clock by the time I took her home. And she kept her horns on."

The punch to the arm should have been expected and Eskel grumbled as he rubbed the soreness left behind. Before he could complain, movement in the garden caught his attention. There was the clown, hauling a large, colourful bag to the small gazebo that had been set up. Suddenly, Eskel understood Geralt's request and he promptly decided it wasn't something to pay attention.

"Oh."

"No." Geralt said flatly as Eskel took one last look at the clown and turned to go out into the garden. "Eskel, I'm serious. No! Don't fuck the clown!"

"I won't," Eskel called over his shoulder. "I'd let him fuck me."

Unfortunately for Eskel, Yennefer was in the garden and seemingly in on the "don't let Eskel fuck the clown" mission. Which was quite rude on several levels. Firstly, Eskel was offended that the other two thought he would jeopardise Ciri's birthday party for the sake of a fuck. Secondly, he was an adult who did not need to be guarded and protected. If he wanted to stick his dick in someone, nobody but he and the intended person had any right to object.

As it was, he still found out the clown was called Lambert and, if Eskel focused then he could make out the most sinfully plush lips under the layers of makeup. It was on pretty thick but Eskel couldn't feel like he was in a place to judge, he'd never had to dress up as a clown before so that slathering was probably normal. It was difficult to make out the true features of Lambert under all of it but Eskel knew for sure he was handsome.

There was no time to get to know Lambert any better because Ciri and her friends turned up in a wild, screaming mass and it was all hands up deck. Balloon animals were the start of Lambert's entertainment and Eskel had to give it to him, he was good. Especially when he looked at the parents with a half made giraffe that most definitely looked like a cock before becoming something more child friendly. Eskel didn't think he'd snorted that hard in a long while. It actually hurt.

Next came the cake and Lambert took a well earned break. Well, not quite, because he happily made crowns for all the adults, showing them how to untwist them into swords if they wanted a fight later on when the children had gone. And he winked at Eskel when he gave him a crown and a dubious looking sword that was most certainly two twists away from being a cock.

"Just how many balloon cock shapes do you know?" He had blurted out and quietly adored the smug smirk Lambert sported.

"All of them. But I like to model them on real life ones. And I don't have a model at the moment."

Eskel barely held back on a guffaw at such a blatant come on. It was only Geralt's grip on the back of his neck that held him in check, along with the low growl of "you will not fuck the clown."

"Not while he's wearing large circus trousers," Eskel had agreed.

His composure was totally wrecked by Lambert cocking an eyebrow at him. "Want to see what's under the big top?" Because yes, Eskel really did.

After cake and presents Lambert had a set of magic tricks to show. it started off quite well, nothing impressive but the cards were fun to follow and Eskel saw how sleight of hand worked.

"And now," Lambert announced, pulling a top hat from under the table. "I will make a rabbit appear!"

The top hat did indeed look empty and Eskel was curious whether it would be a real rabbit and whether Lambert kept it to a traditional white on. Getting the children to join in with the chanting, Lambert tapped a wand against the hat and reached into it, only to frown. Rummaging in the hat, he cursed much to the children's delight.

"It seems our magic has gone a bit wonky," Lambert said, not hiding his agitation very well. "Rather than manifesting a rabbit in the hat, we have conjured him up somewhere in the garden."

"Maybe he's up your sleeve?" Ciri called. "You should check!"

There was no way the rabbit was up his sleeve but Lambert dutifully reached in. He pulled out a card, a couple of coins, an unending row of silk tissues, another wand that erupted into a bouquet of flowers. All of it was met by loud laughter and cheering from the children who were rolling around laughing the more frantically Lambert pulled things out.

By pure chance, Eskel gazed out over the garden, only to spot a large white rabbit merrily hopping towards the house. Quietly, he went to grab it, cradling the obviously well loved and spoilt creature, petting it out of habit. Watching Lambert grit his way through a few more rather lacklustre and failed magic tricks, Eskel couldn't help but be thoroughly charmed. He almost missed the growling sigh from next to him.

"Fine. Fuck the clown." Geralt looked utterly resigned.

With Lambert looking a little frayed around the edges, Eskel finally took pity on him. Walking up behind the children, he cleared his throat.

"There I was, trying to have a slice of cake when this suddenly appeared on my plate instead. I don't suppose any of you know anything about it?"

The cheer from the kids was deafening but Eskel only had eyes on Lambert and the almost palpable relief rolling off him in waves.

"Maybe if Lambert would care to whisk this rabbit away, it might bring my slice of cake back."

Rabbit carefully handed over with one last scritch between the ears, Eskel stepped back and happily joined in with the chanting to hide the rabbit in the top hat again. Thankfully it was a success and no rabbit was visible when Lambert showed his audience with a flourish.

After that the children were ushered away and Lambert was left in peace to pack away. Well, mostly in peace. Eskel lingered and watched, curious to see Lambert without the clown makeup.

"That was an entertaining set," Eskel commented, sorely tempted to casually lean against the leg of a gazebo. But it would never hold his weight so he refrained.

"Fucking Rabbit," Lambert growled, much more rigid and tight now that he wasn't performing for children. "I'm going to eat him for dinner if he does that again."

"And how often do you threaten him with that?"

After a telling silence, Lambert snorted. "Every other day. He's a bastard."

Valiantly, Eskel held back from commenting how pets usually turned out like owners. But then he'd have to admit to Lil Bleater being an absolute menace and what would that say about him? Instead he straightened up and sauntered closer to Lambert.

"So, the offer of seeing a pitched tent still available?"

He crowded against Lambert who gave him a once over before nodding. It was all the permission Eskel needed before kissing him, heedless of how makeup smeared against his skin. Behind them, the door to the house was slammed shut and Eskel had to pull away with a chuckle.

"I'm under strict instructions not to fuck the clown." His eyes were dark as he took in the smudged and ruined makeup around Lambert's lips. "So, either the clown fucks me, or you can take your makeup off."

There was hesitation in Lambert's expression. He was obviously torn, lower lip caught between his teeth. "I'm not-" he broke off and his shoulders hunched. "I'm not handsome like you under the makeup."

"I think you're plenty handsome enough. Why don't I help you take it off?"

Another pause before Lambert gave a nod. He sat on one of the chairs after handing Eskel the makeup remover and wipes. It was slow progress but the more Eskel saw, the more he liked. One half of Lambert's face was done and he flinched away from Eskel's touch.

"It's not pretty," he warned and Eskel nodded before reaching again. That time Lambert didn't move away but he was tense as a scar was unveiled.

"You worry that it's not pretty," Eskel rumbled, "yet you called me handsome with all my scars. Double standards much?"

There was no reply but Lambert couldn't meet his eyes. Gently, Eskel wiped the last of Lambert's makeup off and sat back with a grin. "Knew it. Utterly, devastatingly handsome. I'm afraid it's terminal."

That drew a laugh from Lambert at least and Eskel leaned in to kiss the giggled from his lips.

"I think Geralt and Yennefer can handle the kids from here on," Eskel purred. "Why don't I take you home?"

As they left, he sent a cheeky wave to Geralt who was watching them from the kitchen window. Eskel couldn't resist sending him a text from the car though.

"Thanks for the fun afternoon. Don't worry, I didn't fuck the clown. We'll play it safe though, he'll keep the shoes on to keep my knees comfortable though."

The reply from Geralt didn't bear repeating but it had Eskel throwing his head back and laughing.

[mobagehelllocal]

"closer"

twst oc week - day five: unique magic or magicless

*special au where ai grew up in twst and develops a um!

"all that is near us we must know could disappear any day be careful the main key to finding happiness lies nowhere else but in our souls"

Octavinelle would have one prominent student amongst the first years. And this would be none other than—

“Raina.” Said girl snapped into attention at her dorm leader’s voice.

“Yes Azul-senpai?” Azul peered at her from the corner of his eyes. She stood slightly off to Jade’s other side. One hand curled at her chest and eyes attentively staring at him. She was their junior back in the Coral Sea, so imagine their surprise when they found that she had followed them all the way to Night Raven College.

“A client of mine... that is. Idia-san wishes to borrow your presence and Unique Magic once more.” He paused, “is your Unique Magic ready?”

She blinked and nodded cheerfully.

“Yup! I set another microwave on fire at the Mostro Lounge today! And I also tripped down the stairs this afternoon!” She gave him a wink. “My Unique Magic is probably charged to full again!”

At her words, Azul’s eyes twitched and Floyd let out a loud laugh. Jade peered at her, eyes scanning her head to toe for any visible injuries.

“Aaaah~! Ai’s accidents are way too funny! It’s always fun to see the things you accidentally get into..!”

“Thank the Sea Witch that Idia-san seems to believe so strongly in your abilities... He is paying us a high price. So make sure you don’t fail us tomorrow.”

“Of course senpai! Gotta pay back for that ruined microwave.” Azul grumbled at her words, before he turned to Jade with a deadpan expression.

“Of course. The damages have been calculated, and the loss of another microwave will barely make a dent in our finances.” Jade inclined his head. “I believe it was a great idea to sell Raina’s presence and the use of her Unique Magic. We are earning much from it.”

“Anything for my beloved seniors~!” Ai smiled, goofily. Truly uncaring—what mattered to her was that she was making her three seniors pleased with her contributions to Mostro Lounge... albeit the fact that her services weren’t really connected to the Lounge itself.

“There there.” Ai flushed happily as Jade reached out to pet his junior on the head. “You are doing such a good job for us, doll. We expect nothing but the best from the stubborn mermaid that seemed to have followed us to Night Raven College...fufufu.”

“Yes…! I’m happiest when fulfilling my seniors' wishes…!” They all shared an amused glance, what a frighteningly naive and absentminded girl… Not that it mattered—as long as she only showed such intense devotion to them.

“Jade will escort you tomorrow. (“Eeeeh? If you’re going to Ignihyde, then I’m coming too! There’s someone I wanna bother…!”) Don’t want you getting into any last minute accidents and never finding your way to Idia-san... he’s a very important client after all!” She nodded in excitement. “Well, I’ll dismiss you for now. Go get some rest. And try not to get into another accident before you get to your room!”

“I will try my best but I make no promises, senpai!” At that, Azul could only groan, Floyd laughed—and Jade’s smile… faltered.

—

Had it not been for Jade clutching her elbow throughout her entire trip to Ignihyde, Ai would've gotten into at least eight accidents (Floyd was, of course, content to watch and laugh). Luckily, Jade had been present to steer her away. He shook his head.

He truly had no idea why or how her magic worked—only that he had seen it first hand enough to say that the girl was capable of manipulating fate… in a manner of speaking. Her Unique Magic was, by all accounts, incredibly powerful. Azul didn’t really understand it and he had a difficult time believing in it but Jade—and his brother, Floyd—had found it to be an incredibly amusing power. At times, they would allow themselves to be subjected to it. It has always served to give them an incredibly enjoyable time.

The repercussions of it, however… He peered down at the girl. She was, like him, dressed in her school uniform. She wore the blouse, with her ribbon, the Octavinelle vest and her thick cardigan. Her bottoms on the other hand—she had switched and wore the pants version for today. As she did on days when the scraps and bruises on her legs were a bit too excessive and easier to cover with pants… Yes, the repercussions weren’t good. While the positive effects of her UM can be shared with other people (generous, this doll of his was—), the negative effects only affected her.

(It almost made him frown. He hadn’t particularly enjoyed the days when the backlash hit her harder than usual...)

(What? Jade Leech worried? Whatever gave you such an idea?)

“Jade Leech! Raina Sorte!” The little Ortho Shroud appeared in Ignihyde’s lounge. (Floyd had long since abandoned them once he caught sight of a certain classmate…”There you are!” “W-wah? Floyd, why are you here? I have to go meet C—” “Eh? Spend time with me instead!”) “My brother has been waiting!”

“Hey Ortho, hey.” Ai greeted as she hopped onto her feet, she stumbled briefly then blushed as Jade immediately placed a hand on the small of her back to steady her. Ortho peered at her with slightly worried eyes.

“Will you be okay, Raina Sorte?”

“Yes! Jade-senpai is with me after all!” She turned to him, eyes aglow with nothing but trust. He let out a soft laugh at that.

“I will certainly do my best to keep m—our doll safe… Or else we wouldn’t be able to fulfill our contracts now, would we? Fufufu.” he said, a pleasant smile on his lips. When they’re finally brought before Idia, whose expression brightened at the sight of Ai.

“Oh Best Girl is here. GG.” Jade followed close behind as Ai stood right next to Idia’s chair.

“Oooh, so what game is it this time, Idia-senpai?”

“Upright Underland!” He chirped up rather happily—Ai was one of the very few people he had opened up to about games because she had been genuinely interested, “I had to grind some gems because I just MLB’ed Flora-chan and Castle-chan from the Flower Day Event--but then they suddenly dropped Sterling-chan’s Birthday Banner and I really want her…!” He played around with the game’s interface and showed Ai, Sterling’s card art. “Look! Her baton matches her mom, Lilith-chan’s bat aesthetic…!”

“Oooh! Lilith’s the MILF character, wasn’t she?”

“Yes! I need to bring her daughter home…!”

“Aww!” Ai cooed as she peered at the screen. “I’ll do my best for you, Idia-senpai!” Idia clapped his hands and put his phone down in front of her. Jade and Ortho took this as their cue to step away. Her Unique Magic was the type to spread out and affect everyone around her—so they could only hope that stepping away, even a little, would help ensure that her magic would be focused. Ai closed her eyes and chanted:

“Lucky Ending..!”

--

“—Oof!” Ai tripped, again and even as Jade attempted to catch her, she still fell, hard—on the ground. “Owwie…” He sighed deeply and bent down slightly to pull her up again.

“My, I don’t quite understand why getting the same card five times in a row could use up so much of your Lucky Ending.”

“Well! It’s a gacha.” Ai winced as she stretched out her injured legs. “It’s technically gambling. And I got enough copies to MLB Sterling-chan in one ten roll. My luck was certainly at peak performan—woah!” She tripped again—she waved her hands frantically around before this time Jade was finally able to catch her. She looked at him, surprised.

“You know senpai. You don’t have to catch me when I fall. It’s better if my luck builds back up with small accidents like this.”

“You speak as if…” I don’t want to catch you when you fall. As if I don’t mind seeing you in pain. He held his tongue, and smirked instead.

“I was simply growing tired of you falling and making whiny noises.”

“Oh. That’s valid.” Ai hummed as Jade pulled her up, and tucked her into his side. At his actions, her face turned red. “Senpai—!? W—what?”

“We should go back to the Mostro Lounge quickly, doll.” Jade said smoothly, “I’m sure Azul will be pleased to hear that Idia-san was very happy with your services.”

“A—ah… of course.” Jade’s arm tightened and secured itself around her waist.

“Since when was it that I could no longer stand to see her like that…? My oh my, what have you done to me… little doll?”

--

"you know the closer you get to something the tougher it is to see it and I'll never take it for granted"

[1dfangirls35]

The Language of Your Soul

An enemies to lovers Ballet AU in 5 Acts

Masterlist

Act I

A/N:

First of all, thank you so much to @booksncoffee for the absolutely gorgeous banner!

I am so excited to share this story with you all! Inspired in part by a night rewatching Center Stage on Netflix and from years of ballet classes, I hope this AU brings a new twist on Harry fics (and maybe even helps you gain a new appreciation for the world of ballet). Please note, while I have used my own 10+ years of classical ballet training in addition to research on this topic to hopefully make this as realistic as possible, this is still a work of fiction- and some details may have been changed to better fit the constraints of the story. The companies mentioned in this fic are real, however this story and its characters are entirely works of fiction. On a more personal note, while I have chosen to publish this story now and believe I will be able to maintain weekly updates to its entirety, I am preparing to take my boards in less than four weeks. Should I not update as scheduled- please be patient and know that an update is only a few weeks away! :) Thank you so much for reading!

Warnings: This story will contain language, mentions of emotional abuse from a parent and eating disorders. Please read at your own discretion.

Ten Weeks to Opening Night

Albert Einstein once said, "dancers are the athletes of God." Giselle Mason certainly doesn't feel like pne of God's athletes at the moment. Not with the way her muscles are screaming with every movement that she makes as she stretches before class, not with the way her right hip cracks as she lifts her leg onto the bar, and certainly not with the way her feet sting as she tapes up yet another blister on her toe before shoving her foot into her pointe shoes for another day full of torture.

Giselle stands, sticking one last bobby pin into the bun of her nearly ebony hair and finding her spot at the front of the barre in the center of the studio. She grasps the wooden cylinder with her left hand before releasing her body in a forward bend, taking a deep breath in and then a deep breath out. There is a familiar ache in her hamstrings as she begins to stretch, which loosens ever so slightly with every breath.

And so begins her daily morning routine in the studio. Fifteen minutes of stretching before company class begins. Relaxing each hamstring, hip flexor and spinal muscle until a sense of calm washes over her body. Letting her mind drift into a thoughtless focus, preparing itself for the waves of choreography that would be coming in minutes. Typically, this time is quiet; the only melody present the rhythmic breathing of company members preparing for class. But today, the studio seems to be filled with an underlying buzz. And Giselle doesn't have the slightest idea why.

"I heard he slept with the artistic director's wife, so they kicked him out of the Royal," she hears one of the new corps de ballet members murmur.

"I mean have you seen him, I don't blame her for getting her hands on a piece of him," another girl giggles.

"Did you hear, G?" Caleb, Giselle's friend, whispers as he slides into a spot on the barre behind her, adjusting the black bandana keeping his signature black curls in place across his forehead.

"Hear what?" Giselle asks, removing her leg from the bar before reaching down to adjust the black leg warmer that had fallen down her calf.

"They've hired Harry Styles- you know from the Royal," Caleb adds as if Giselle hasn't heard of Harry Styles. Everyone who was anyone in the ballet world had heard of Harry Styles. A good chunk of the non-ballet world might even be able to point him out as that 'sexy male ballet dancer' from the Sports Illustrated nude edition.

Harry Styles was a rare kind of natural talent. The type of person that was put on this earth to dance ballet. His talent had landed him the honor of being the youngest person to be named a principal in the history of the Royal Ballet. And if the rumors were true, that talent had also landed him the reputation of one of the ballet world's most arrogant. Giselle had heard several stories about how the male dancer had been a terror to work with- demanding, rude, uncooperative. Giselle didn't doubt it- people of that skill and fame rarely developed without some sense of entitlement.

"Why would we hire Harry Styles, we've already got Viktor?" Giselle questions. This isn't the first time a rumor has circulated through the American Ballet Theatre company, and it certainly won't be the last time. 

"Rumor is they want Viktor to retire," Caleb shrugged before stepping back to his place behind Giselle as Mistress Ivanova claps to gain the class's attention.

Giselle couldn't believe the rumors. Viktor Dmitri retiring from ABT? He was practically the face of the company. The man had been dancing for the American Ballet Theatre for over a decade. He'd been the principal ever since Giselle had joined the company as a corps de ballet member five years ago. 

Giselle knew that retirement came early for a ballet dancer. Her own mother, the famous Natalia Korsakova, had retired at the age of 33 after a knee injury. Viktor had just turned 35, but he'd shown no signs of slowing down. She refused to believe that he was calling it quits. Or to believe that the board would be stupid enough to bring in someone with Harry Styles's toxic reputation into the company.

She shoves the thought aside. Viktor is in his usual place at the back of the studio and Harry Styles is nowhere to be seen. This was simply another piece of gossip threatening to distract everyone from the Swan Lake auditions tomorrow afternoon, and Giselle won't lose her focus. The auditions are too important.

Giselle Mason has dreamed of playing the role of Odette/Odile ever since she first watched her mother on stage at the age of four. It was one of her earliest memories of the theater- her mother twirling about in a bright white tutu that at that time Giselle could only dream of wearing. In fact, Giselle wasn't sure there had ever been a moment where her dream hadn't been to be a principal dancer at ABT, like her mother. She'd been in ballet shoes from the second she could walk, wore a leotard and tights more often than she'd worn pajamas, and didn't recognize herself in the mirror if her hair wasn't pulled back into a bun. She'd ate, slept and breathed the art form. But she supposed that all came with having a prima ballerina as a mother.

Natalia Korsakova was a ballet sensation. "One of the greatest to have ever danced," according to the New York Times  at the time of her retirement. The world had come to watch her dance and she'd traveled it performing: Russia, Australia, London, Paris. You name the location and Natalia Korsakova had danced there.

When Giselle was growing up, she was constantly told how lucky she was to have Natalia as a mother. To have seen the shows she's seen, to have met ballet royalty, to have traveled the world. But Giselle never felt lucky. Not when she was the accident that put her mother's career on hold for almost a year. Not when her mother was gone for months at a time performing, missing recitals, parent days and school concerts. And certainly not when an injury forced her mother into retirement, shifting her focus from her own artistic talents to turning her daughter into her next protegee.

Much to her mother's dismay, Giselle was not the younger version of her mother. She was good, great even, but she was no sensation. Giselle made soloist in her fourth year at ABT, which was a feat all on its own, unless you compared it to her mother's two. Giselle lacked the raw, natural talent that her mother possessed. Instead of her mother's high arches, she had her father's averagely flat feet. Instead of her mother's uncanny ability to match the music, Giselle had spent hours counting eights in her head to get down a rhythm. Instead of looking effortless the first time she ran through a routine, Giselle spent hours in the studio after rehearsal, running through the choreography until it wasn't possible for her to get it wrong. Giselle had gotten to where she was because of her hard work, not her natural talent- something her mother would never let her forget. To Natalia Korsakova, Giselle would never measure up.

The Swan Lake auditions are Giselle's first real shot at landing a lead, especially with principal dancer Anna Elliot out with a back injury for the foreseeable future. Giselle wants this role more than anything. To prove to herself that she is capable of  following in her mother's footsteps. And to prove to her mother that she is just as capable a dancer as she. For once in her life, she wants to hear her mother say not that she'd lost her spot or forgot to point her toes, but that she was proud of Giselle. Four words- that's all Giselle really wants.

"And will start first position, demi, demi, grand, demi and port de bra. Repeat in 2nd, 4th and 5th and then balance in fifth position arms in fifth," Mistress Ivanova barks, before gesturing to the pianist to begin.

Giselle focuses on her movements as the music begins. She tightens her core, elongates her neck and reaches her fingertips to the edges of her silhouette. Her legs quiver slightly as she bends her knees into the first grand plié, her mind focusing on maintaining her turnout.

"Relax that face Giselle," Mistress Ivanova corrects, as she makes her way around the room. "I don't want to see that this is work."

Giselle takes another deep breath, this time releasing her lips from their concentrated place and focusing on her breath. She lets the downtown Manhattan studio disappear from the background. Gone is the distant honking of impatient taxi drivers maneuvering their way through the New York City traffic. Gone is the light shining in from the full-length windows looking out at the city skyline- well what you could see of the skyline behind the crumbly brick building neighboring the school. There was nothing but the dancer, the barre and the music flowing gently through her veins.

"Beautiful lines Teagan, thank you," Giselle hears Mistress Ivanova say from across the room and she fights the urge to roll her eyes. Giselle has known Teagan Davidson since she was fourteen years old, when Teagan had moved from California to New York to join the ABT school. Over the course of a decade of competing for roles, partners and teacher's praises, the two had developed quite a rivalry. To Giselle, there was almost no better feeling than snagging a role that she knew Teagan also had her eyes on.

Giselle uses Teagan's praise as motivation to work harder, feeling the burn in her inner thighs as she pushes further into her grand plié in second. The role of Odette/Odile was hers, Teagan would have to settle for understudy.

The class is in the middle of their balance, Giselle's focus locked in on a spot just at the edge of the window at the rear of the studio when a loud bang reverberates through the room. Dancers drop their balance and turn their heads, looking to see who has caused such a commotion with their entrance.

"Mr. Styles, you're late," Mistress Ivanova snaps.

He is taller than Giselle imagined, and even from this distance she can see the definition in his arms through the black tank top that clings to his body. His hair is slightly disheveled, curling at the top. His face plastered into some cheeky grin, dimples present on both cheeks, like he knows exactly what he's doing, interrupting class like this. Almost like he's enjoying the attention. He throws his black messenger bag to the side before grabbing his ballet shoes and scurrying over to an open spot at the barre near the front of the studio.

"My apologies," he replies in a thick British accent. His tone sounds anything but apologetic.

"Damn, he's even better-looking in person than he is in magazines," Caleb mutters under his breath, eliciting an eye roll from Giselle.

"Well, I suppose after that entrance," Mistress Ivanova sighs, stepping to the front of the class. "Now is as good of time as any to announce that Mr. Styles will be joining our company as a principal dancer."

Gasps fill the room, and Giselle turns her head to look at Viktor, whose face is stoic after Harry's entrance. A low chatter fills the studio, everyone trying to figure out exactly what is going on. Would he get the lead in Swan Lake? Would he be understudying Viktor?

"Silence!" Mistress Ivanova shouts. "This chatter can wait until after class is over!" She turns to face Harry, her lips turned into a stern frown. "If you'll find a place at the barre Mr. Styles, we will continue our class."

Giselle watches as he slides into a spot at the front of the room, shooting a grin at the young company member behind him. Giselle rolls her eyes, returning her focus to the mirror in front of her. Two minutes with the company and she was sure Harry Styles was exactly who she thought he would be.

Giselle tries to forget Harry Styles is in class with them. Instead she focuses on her breathing, her turnout, the rhythm that comes from the pianist in the corner of the room. She watches the early morning New York City sunrise reflect off of the mirrors, leaving little spots of sunlight over the gray Marley floor. Everyone else in the company could focus on Harry Styles all they want, but she is only focusing on one thing- and that is landing the role of her dreams tomorrow.

But Harry Styles wasn't the type of person whose presence could be forgotten so easily.

********

Harry Styles isn't scared of a little attention. In fact, he typically thrives on it. That's why he is a performer after all. To Harry, there is no better feeling than knowing all eyes are upon you, that you are the center of attention, the focus of the room. Maybe that is a prideful and egotistical thing to say, but it is true. Everyone wants to feel important, valued, admired- and anyone who says otherwise is a liar.

But the attention Harry has been getting since he walked into the American Ballet Theatre studio a little over twelve hours ago has not been the type of attention he necessarily sought out. He knew there would be rumors, leaving the only company he had ever been a part of during his dance career was sure to draw up the best of them, but something about this felt different. It was the whispers. The stares. The way some members of the room were staring at Harry as if he was a god and a few wouldn't dare look in his direction.

Harry doesn't know what's come over him- this wavering self-confidence. Maybe it's this new place. This new country. Or maybe it's the fact that in the words of his agent, if he "doesn't get his act together" he will never dance at this level again. And if he's not dancing on the world's biggest stages, well, Harry might as well not be dancing at all.

Harry grabs his phone from the side pocket of his black messenger bag, connecting it to the Bluetooth speaker he found in the corner of the studio and presses play on his hip hop playlist. He needs something to drown out his thoughts, and classical music just doesn't cut it. As the beat begins to fill the studio, Harry lets the music take over his body and begins to dance.

Giselle tries to focus on her music, but there's the noise of a pounding bass in the background interfering with concentration. She's always the only one at the studio this late at night- that's why she comes- to be alone and without distractions.

She tries to ignore it, focusing on the one and two of the music as she fouettés. One and two, three and four, five and... a boom from somewhere in the building breaks her concentration and she falls out of her turn, letting out a groan. This could not be happening to her the night before auditions, and if she found out that Teagan was here trying to interfere with her practice...

Giselle makes her way down the hall, guided by the incessant bass that sounds like it belongs in the backseat of a teenager's car and not one of the most prestigious ballet studios in the world. When she turns the corner to enter the studio, it's not Teagan she sees but Harry Styles.

But he's not dancing. He's laying on the floor, wearing nothing but a pair of black athletic shorts that show off the god-like definition of his thighs. His signature butterfly tattoo stands out on the middle of his chest, beads of sweat dripping towards the center of his stomach, the bass vibrating the mirrors around him. He doesn't notice her at first. How could he with the music so loud?

"Excuse me," Giselle says loudly in an effort to get his attention. His body doesn't even flinch.

"Excuse me!" she yells this time. 

Harry looks up. In the corner of the studio, towards the door stands a girl. Her almost black hair is pulled tightly back into a bun. Her thin arms are crossed like she's about to lecture him, and her lips are held in a tight line that looks anything but happy. The corners of Harry's mouth curve upwards in a grin, entertained by the fury that was seeming to come from her tiny body.

She taps her foot impatiently, like she's waiting for something. Harry realizes that she is- she's waiting for him to turn off his music.

He sighs, reaching over to his phone beside him and sliding one sweaty finger across the screen to bring the rhythm to a halt.

"Yes?" he asks expectantly, not bothering to move his body from his reclining position.

"Other people in this studio are trying to practice, you know. It's kinda hard to do that with this," she gestures into the air, as if trying to find an appropriate adjective to describe the torture that had been gracing her ears over the past half hour.

"Not a fan of my music?" Harry smirked.

"I'm not a fan of someone disrupting my rehearsal." Giselle spit back.

"Rehearsal? It's bloody 11pm."

"I know what time it is, and like I said, your music is interfering with my ability to practice." Giselle stares Harry right in the eyes. He doesn't intimidate her, and she's not going to back down until he agrees to turn down his music.

"Wasn't aware you were the owner of this studio," Harry taunts.

"I could say the same about you." Giselle moves her hands to her hips. Just agree to turn off the damn music, she thinks to herself, even though she knows at this point, it's not worth the time it will take to warm back up to continue practicing.

Harry sits up, grabbing a blue towel from inside his bag and wiping the sweat that remains off his forehead. "Fine, music's off. Continue your rehearsal. I'm too jet lagged for this shit," he stands, wrapping the towel around his neck.

"Thanks," Giselle says under her breath, before making her way back to her studio, where she knew she would be gathering her own belongings.

Harry groans, grabbing his bag from the floor and sliding it over his shoulder. You could travel halfway across the world and still run into the same entitled ballet brats who thought they ran the place. It's those type of people, company members and otherwise, that were precisely the reason he had left the Royal. Well, not that he had necessarily had a say in that scenario, but they had been the cause of all of his problems.

You just have to dance, Harry, he tries to tell himself. But Harry knows that as much as he tries, there's a lot more too it than that.

**********

“Gi!" Caleb exclaims, bounding down the hallway towards her without concern for anyone in his way. "Cast list is up."

Giselle gulps. She isn't sure that she is ready for this. The look of disappointment on her mother's face if she doesn't land the part. The list of corrections that her mother has come up with from watching Giselle's audition. "Now you see there, you've lost your center. You're never going to make that triple if you don't hold your center Giselle." The reminder that "you only have so many opportunities to prove your worth, before they move onto the younger, better version of you." It didn't matter to her mother if Giselle was the youngest soloist at ABT by five years. It didn't matter if nearly every other soloist had previously understudied for the role. Everything but a lead was a disappointment to Natalia Korsakova.

"C'mon," Caleb exclaims, and before Giselle has a moment to collect herself she's being pulled down the hallway by her arm.

And there it is. The thin, white piece of paper that holds the fate of her next ten weeks in its hands. When she looks at it at first, she thinks she must be dreaming. Because her name has never been on that spot on the list before. Not since she officially joined the company five years ago.

Odette/Odile- Giselle Mason

Sigfried - Harry Styles

She feels frozen. Like she's in a dream and she's paralyzed. It's what she's always wanted-this role and yet, suddenly it feels like a whole lot of pressure.

"You did it Gi," Caleb exclaims, lifting her up and spinning her around before Giselle even has a moment to look any further down the list. Giselle laughs, giddy with excitement. "New York will have never seen a more beautiful Odette."

Giselle rolls her eyes at his comment. Caleb, her friend since joining the American Ballet School at the age of six and partner for many years had always been her biggest cheerleader. In a way, he made up for what she didn't have in her mother.

"And you Caleb?" Giselle asks, realizing in her excitement that she had forgotten that her best friend also had a role in the this ballet.

"You're looking at the newest Benno," Caleb says with a grin. Giselle often wondered what it would be like to be like Caleb. To be happy with any role. To not care about his place in the company. To simply want to dance. Caleb had always been like that- relaxed, calm- the antithesis to Giselle who was always high strung and anxious. Perhaps that's why they'd always been such good friends, because they balanced each other perfectly. Giselle pushed Caleb when he needed some extra motivation and Caleb- albeit not always successful- tried his best to keep Giselle out of her own head.

Giselle watches as Teagan makes her way over to the board, her long black hair swinging from the ponytail at the crown of her head. She grins in slight satisfaction as she sees Teagan's face turn into a frown. Giselle turns and gives Caleb her best, "what did she get?" eyes. He exaggeratedly mouths, "UNDERSTUDY".

As if sensing that she is the topic of conversation, Teagan looks over at the two. "Congrats Giselle," she says, her face moving in a way that makes it seem like the words taste disgusting leaving her mouth.

"You as well," Giselle responds, to which Teagan only scoffs and storms off.

"You know she's going to make your life living hell as your understudy don't you?" Caleb said with a laugh.

"Ugh, I know," Giselle groaned.

"It will be worth it though. You are going to be dancing the role you've always dreamed of." Giselle smiled. "Plus," Caleb begins, leaning down so his mouth is next to Giselle's ear. "You get to dance with the greatest male dancer of our generation. Think of all the hours you're gonna get to spend looking at that GORGEOUS body."

Giselle groans. Her perfect moment temporarily ruined by the realization that she would have to dance with Harry Styles. Sure, he may be talented, a great dancer, and likely a great partner. But his entrance yesterday and their encounter last night told her everything she needed to know about Harry Styles. And she was sure that working with him would be anything but easy.

"That GORGEOUS body," Giselle imitates Caleb with an exaggeration of the word, "Doesn't make up for the fact that the guy's an asshole."

"Okay, okay, point taken. Now can we go get some lunch?"

Giselle nods, but she already knows she's not hungry. Instead, all she can think about is how she's going to get through the next ten weeks of rehearsals with a man she already loathes.

**********

Giselle slides into the rehearsal studio with extra joy in her step later that afternoon. She's so on Cloud 9 that she doesn't even realize Harry standing at the barre doing pliés as she hums the opening notes of Swan Lake aloud.

"Sorry didn't know anyone else was in here already," she apologizes quickly, standing and stretching out her feet.

Harry looks at her, his face hard and eyes sharp. If he recognized her as the girl who interrupted his jam session last night his face didn't show it. "And who are you?" Harry asks, his voice laced with condescendence.

"Odette," Giselle smiles, the words feeling foreign leaving her mouth.

"Obviously," Harry scoffs, and Giselle feels her confidence waver. "Who are you?"

"Giselle Mason, soloist."

"Doesn't ring a bell," the corners of Harry's mouth turn up at his comment, like he gets satisfaction out of reminding others that they aren't the household name that he is.

Giselle wants to say something back. Something sharp and witty to show him that just because he was one of the greatest dancers in the world and she was still trying to make her way into the spotlight didn't mean that he could treat her like a nobody. She was going to be his partner after all- whether he liked it or not. But then Gregory Alexander, ABT's Artistic Director, enters the room, clapping his hands and tells them they are about to begin on the Act II Pas de Deux and Giselle doesn't have a chance to say otherwise.

"As new partners you will need to put in the time to understand each other. Build trust. Anticipate the other's movement. Portray to the audience that you are a swan and a prince in love." Gregory moves his arms in the air theatrically, as if he isn't wearing a designer suit.

"Now I understand that the ten weeks we have to prepare before our season debut isn't an ideal amount of time to form a relationship with a new partner. But in this case, it simply must do." Gregory's face turned serious, the wrinkles on his forehead more defined as he furrows his eyebrows. "I expect that the two of you will put in the time outside of your scheduled rehearsals to work on this chemistry. Anna and Viktor will also be assisting with rehearsals and my hope is that they will also be able to assist the two of you with this transition."

"Gregory," Harry interrupts, then as if realizing he'd made a mistake, he corrects himself. "Sir."

Gregory nods.

"I'm not sure what the concern is. I've danced with hundreds of partners in my career, I'm not sure how the other principal's would have much more experience than me?" Giselle thinks Harry is meaning this as a question but it comes out more like a statement.

Giselle watches as Gregory's eyes narrow again. He looked irritated, and why wouldn't he be? Harry had been here all but forty-eight hours and was already questioning the artistic director's decisions. 

"That may be the case, Mr. Styles," Gregory paused. "But when the two of you step onto Metropolitan Opera House stage in ten weeks, I expect the audience to believe that you two have been dancing together for years. Have I made myself clear?"

Harry nods, this time remaining quiet.

"Now then, I'd like us to start with the Act II Pas de Deux. The very beginning- with your entrance Harry."

It's an hour into rehearsals when Giselle hears the echo of heels clicking down the wooden hallways. She doesn't even have to look up when the steps stop as they reach the studio floor. She could recognize that walk anywhere.

"Aahh, Natalia!" Gregory exclaims. "So glad you could stop by," Gregory reaches over to embrace Giselle's mother, his grey hair brushing the sides of her face as he kisses each cheek.

"Mr. Styles, I'd like to introduce you to Natalia Korsakova, former ABT principal and member of our board."

Natalia Korsakova looks as put together as always. Her dark brown hair pulled tightly into a neat French twist. Her tight black dress and coordinating pumps show off every bit of the dancer's body that she still maintained. Giselle watches as her mother's mouth curves to form a polite smile.

"A ballet legend. It's an honor to meet you Madame," Harry says offering his hand.

"The pleasure is all mine. I'm so glad you are joining us here at ABT. And what a joy it will be to watch you next to my daughter," Natalia gestures towards Giselle, with a polite smile plastered on her face that was generally reserved for generous donors and patrons of the ballet. It is all a show. That's all Giselle's mother ever did was put on a production. She was a performer after all, how could anyone expect her life to be anything but a crowd-pleasing performance?

"Your daughter?" Harry turns to look at Giselle, raising an eyebrow. His eyes narrow, as if he's caught Giselle in a lie. As if she'd snuck her way into this position and was just hoping that someone wouldn't notice she wasn't the real deal. "Why that makes this even more special."

Giselle fights every urge to roll her eyes from across the room. It is clear that Harry Styles is every bit as much of a performer as her mother. Just minutes before he was looking at her as if he had been paired with an amateur and suddenly working with her is 'something special'?

"I'm going to watch rehearsal for a bit," Natalia announces, making her way over to a stool next to the pianist. "Carry on." The pit in the bottom of Giselle's stomach grows as her mother takes a seat next to Gregory in front of the mirror.

"Odette makes sense to me now," Harry whispers into Giselle's ear, as he slides behind her to resume practice. It takes everything in her to keep her face stoic as Harry's hands settle once again on her waist.

Rehearsal goes badly. Giselle can't seem to get her leg into the attitude position that Gregory wants, she losing her balance on her penchés, and Harry almost drops her on several promenades. Giselle says almost, because someone as experienced as Harry Styles would never let his partner hit the ground, but she should have, because she surely wasn't holding her weight quite right. And then there's the fact that Gregory pronounced that Giselle "looks at Harry as if he is the villain of the story instead of the prince she's fallen in love with". 

Giselle wants to say that's because he is the villain. The villain of her story anyways, the person that is somehow going to turn her dream role into somewhat of a nightmare. Why couldn't she be dancing with Viktor? He was so patient and kind and he would never look at his partner as if she deserved to be in the audience instead of on stage with him.

After yet another failed run through of the first half of the pas de deux, Gregory announces that they are done for the day, but that he expects to see them in the studio bright and early tomorrow morning to work on their timing. Giselle's never been so thankful for a rehearsal to be over, and as she sits down to remove her pointe shoes, running her hands over her swollen feet, she watches Harry leave the studio without saying a word.

"I hope you realize how big of an opportunity this is Giselle. It's not one you should take lightly," her mother's voice startles her, as Giselle had almost forgotten she was there. Almost.

Natalia stands above Giselle, one hand on her hips and the other on her forehead, as if watching today's rehearsal had been exhausting for her. It probably was exhausting for her, keeping tally of all the things that Giselle had done wrong for the past two hours. Natalia's voice is shrill as she speaks again. "There are thousands of ballerinas around the world that could only dream of getting to dance with Harry Styles. And here you are dancing with him in his first show with ABT. That's an enormous responsibility, darling. This performance with him will set the stage for his entire career with our company. One that the board is hoping will last until his retirement."

Giselle nods. That's all she can do when her mother begins one of her lectures- nod. She thought maybe this would be the time that her mother told her congratulations. The time that her mother did what she'd watched countless other mother's do during her time as a dancer, wrap their arms around their daughter and express their pride to them. But instead, today is like any other day, and even with a lead role in an ABT production, Giselle still hasn't done enough to make her mother proud.

Giselle shoves her shoes into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she stands.

"And Giselle?" her mother adds, as she makes her way towards the door.

"Yes mom?" 

"Might want to hit a few more cardio classes this week too, my dear. Got to make sure you are going to be an easy dancer to partner with." 

And with that comment Natalia Korsakova clicks away, leaving Giselle standing in the middle of studio wondering if her biggest dream has suddenly become her biggest nightmare.

[hhjs]

the art of losing isn't hard to master. (though it may look; like disaster).

pairing. ⤳ bang chan x reader.

genre. ⤳ angst.

alternatively. ⤳ a mystery trope. :3

word count ⤳ 2.07k

note ⤳ sorry for the long title hah. this is inspired by jaurim's song 'twenty five, twenty one.' and the title is a quotation from elizabeth bishop's poem 'one art'.

"I don’t want to see you again."

Chan knows you don't mean it, not even one bit. From the way the sentence comes out all shaky, the way you're pretending to stare off into space in sudden contemplation when really you just didn't want him to see you tear up.

But it still hurts.

It hurts so much that he almost regrets breaking up with you, finds himself wanting to take the words back as swiftly as he'd uttered them in the intimate setting of your favourite café.

Almost. If he says something now, he can taken it all back. Just one word. An explanation. And he can gone back to basking in the warmth of your affection in that selfish manner that he always did.

He doesn't, though, he can't.

Not when he was starting to notice just how absorbed you were becoming with your relationship, minimising your own priorities to make sure the bond lasted, giving up applying to your dream college because it meant you'd be moving away from him.

Sure, it sounded like some heroic bullshit sacrifice in his head, like something infuriating drama protagonists do - but there was not a speck of doubt in him pertaining to the department of seeing you happy.

Even if it had come to this.

Even if losing you was the expense he had to incur to get you to love yourself more than you loved him.

Chan, however, doesn't tell you that. Knowing how stubborn you are, you'll certainly not let go without a fight.

It's easier this way, he thinks, if instead he says he can't do it anymore - and lets you believe it.

"Okay." He says, finally finding his voice and these words, he really means it, "Anything for you."

...

It's the sheer irony that baffles him.

There was a time when Minho used to mock Chan about keeping blind faith in settling down with you, pointing out that, even if it was through harmless banter, it was an absurd thing to want out of a highschool sweetheart.

And the former is also the first one to stop beating about the bush, to tell it as it is, "You're a fucking asshole." Minho says, plopping down beside him. He sounds more disappointed than angry.

A movie plays on before the pair and Minho wastes no time in stuffing his face with popcorn, flaunting that he had no intention of explaining his comment, as if it is just that obvious.

Chan remains silent, baffled by the fact that this the first time he's on the receiving end. He usually acts as the one who dishes out words of wisdom and scoldings when necessary.

When he heard you were going away for college just the next morning, he was both ecstatic and horrified. Ecstatic because things were going according to plan. Horrified because that meant he wouldn't be seeing you at all, even if chancing upon you had grown obviously less frequent than it had been when you were together. It meant he wouldn't find you lounging absently at a local café while your eye brows furrowed, fixated on a particular page, it meant that there would be no accidental brushing of shoulders when you'd end up going to Jisung's parties, it would mean completely falling off of your radar.

However, Minho's outburst acted as a vague consolation, albeit he understood it was wrong, it indicated that you weren't doing well either, it indicated that you missed him like he missed you, it meant that you still loved him.

The idea of forever and always had been embedded in his ideology too deeply to apply reason.

He is always going to love you, you are always going to love him. He knows that much. He believes that much.

That alone is enough. That has always been enough.

...

It's too early in the morning and he is positive that this is an abysmal decision.

But the little care he had for rationality, always in your department was not new.

You push a suit case out of the door, there is an Uber waiting, the sound of rain hitting pavement is at such great volume that he can hardly hear his rapid footsteps.

When you crane your neck his direction, Chan stops walking further, but he is too near to go unnoticed.

"W-What are you doing here?" The question comes from you. He notes that you almost sound...hopeful. Like you would go right back in and snuggle into the comfort of your covers if he asked, like you'd forgive him if he asked, like you'd love him despite the distance that'd keep you apart if he asked.

Chan doesn't ask.

"I just... wanted to see you off." He lies, it's taking a whole lot of self restraint to not go up to you to engulf you in his bone crushing hugs, to uproot you off of the security of your toes. He only seems to stare, feigning nonchalance.

The I'm sorry, the truth, sits atop the tip of his tongue and he inwardly promises that he'll tell you someday.

...

Chan doesn't, of course, anticipate this.

When he finally conjures up the courage to send you a follow request after bashfully asking for your username and twiddling his thumbs over your Instagram icon, the acceptance and follow back request notifications almost reduces him to a giddy child who was allowed to watch cartoons way past their bedtime. The unanticipated pleasure that comes with getting something you had no expectations whatsoever of getting.

What is more shocking, he notes, is just how much your life has changed;

or at least, seems to have changed.

There are endless photos, shots of bright neon tones of a typical college party where you're holding up a solo cup to the air and grinning big enough that your eyes are closed, Chan smiles at this.

His enjoyment is, although, quite transient when another pop up in his notification bar reminds him that you've made your most recent post just a few seconds prior.

Curiously, Chan scrolls upwards, careful not to accidentally like any old photos.

This picture is different, the premise is a concert of some sort, he can tell from the banners, the condensed congregations of people around you, mouths awkwardly paused in uttering lyrics - the disturbing part, is the long, bleached blonde stranger behind you, his gangly arms looped over your chest, your back pressed against his front, while his chin is propped up onto the gap between your neck and shoulder. There is no caption.

You look the happiest here. He knows this. The familiar childish glow of your face whenever he'd crack a dumb pun was etched vividly into his memory.

Uncharacteristically, Chan finds himself putting down the phone on the table so Jisung would notice and elaborate without him asking.

And his endeavour is satisfied, "Oh, that's Hyunjin." Jisung explains, before rolling his eyes when Chan kept looking at him to say more, "They're just friends."

It’s only when Chan lets his breath go, does he realise that he was holding it all along.

...

"Long time, eh?" You smile at him, it's an easy, carefree smile, not the tight lipped ones you'd shoot his way weeks after the breakup. That elicits a weird feeling in Chan, he wants to understand why, know what brought this change.

Were you just that happy to see him? Did you remember that your first date was also on a New Year's Day, just like today? Or was he just lingering in the past, all alone?

Even though Hyunjin's invitation to the party was a nuisance, his delayed presence sparked a hopeful event for Chan, now that you were home for the holidays, he needed a proper chance to finally tell you all that he was holding back and do anything, everything to make up for it.

He imagined all the stories from those photos on your feed, musing over your brief conversations through DMs but back in his room, with a blanket pulled to your chin, while he threw a free leg around your waist.

Chan nods slowly, rummaging through the snack shelves. "Yeah. I can't believe it's been a year already." He prepares a mental conversation in his head as he finally secures a bag of Lays.

You smile slowly, looking down at your chipped nails, "Me neither."

In the living room, a loud pop song is playing, the two of you divorced from everyone, a countdown almost commencing.

From behind the kitchen counter, Chan opens his mouth to ask you about something but can't remember what, the last ten seconds rolling to ten, nine, eight, seven -

"I've been looking everywhere for you." A foreign voice comes but the stranger, on the contrary, is not unrecognisable.

His hair is the same long blonde, he's tall, his eyes are hooded but bright with kiddish excitement, his mouth naturally pouted. And when he says this sentence to you, your face, almost immediately, lights up.

The dramatic exclamation is exaggerated with sets of long flailing arms, Chan wants to roll his eyes at the cheesiness, had it not made you laugh.

You only get to turn your body partially before Hyunjin walks over to your position, he cups your face with one hand and the other traverses to the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against him. It's as if you've completely forgotten about him, as if you're the only two people in the world and Chan, a wistful member of the audience merely permitted to have the luxury to watch.

It is then that Chan realises that Jisung was definitely misinformed. Friends don't do this, friends don't look at each other like this. six, five, four, (But he can't look away, can't look away because he has to face the music, bite the bullet, to accept it for what it is. The spectacle is only but a morbid reminder of how taking people for granted always proves to be fruitless.)

Three, two, one,

"Happy New Year." Hyunjin's mouth moves with brief soundless words, he looks like the happiest man in the world and there's not a doubt he is, with you...

And when he kisses you like that, it's anything but perfect, he keeps grinning against your mouth like he can't believe this is happening. 

The lonesome spectator senses himself thinking that you've never looked a fraction of happy with him as you do with Hyunjin.

Every sound falls back into muteness, all but the ringing in Chan's ears. Every planned syllable deems his tongue to a limping, incoherent mess. He bites it down.

All Chan understands is -

there is no going back from this.

..."You know I never told you." You hold up your fingers to his face, there's a giant indent of a wedding ring against the skin. The ornament catches light and glints.

Chan hums, finding that he was just as enamoured with your smile. After all this time. "Told me what?" He asks, eyes flitting behind your head to see Hyunjin picking out your favourite drink in a memorised fashion, a matching accessory banded around his finger as he points to a menu displayed above. It's only a matter of minutes.

You giggle, as though it's the silliest thing in entire the universe, the equivalent of admitting you used to believe you'd grow a tree inside your tummy if you swallowed apple seeds, "This is going to sound stupid."

You look downright embarrassed when you press your palms against your face and gaze at him through the gaps of your fingers, then rest them back on the table, "Don't get me wrong..like, of course it hurt, at first. And I was so angry at you..." you chuckle, embarrassed, " But if we never broke up, I can't imagine where I'd be right now...if it wasn't for you I don't think I'd be the person I am today." You explain lightheartedly, it's time and familiarity that makes bringing this topic up so easy. Like it means nothing at all. "So I guess I just wanted to say...thanks?"

Chan smiles, a genuine smile,  even if it has a melancholic quality to it, all he ever wanted...really was for you to be happy. And you are. Most certainly.

 So he doesn't tell you more, doesn't tell you about almosts and rain hitting pavements and forever and always.

But he reaches out and pats your knuckles and says - because he means it the same still, "Anything for you."

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 28- Crossbones

Summary: The Avengers uncover the identity of the mysterious Crossbones and mount a mission to apprehend him in Lagos.

Warnings: Bad language, Smut! (NSFW, Under 18s) Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: NEW BANNER ALERT @angrybirdcr​ has made a DOOZY for the Civil War part of the Story.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 27

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

January 2016

“Are you sure this isn’t a team call?” Katie asked Steve, watching as he picked up his shield.

“No.” He shook his head firmly as they walked down the corridor.  “We don’t even know if he will be there.”

“But…”

“Katie, stop!” Steve chuckled, pushing the door open to enter the hangar. “We’ll be fine. This is intelligence gathering, I’ve no intention of heading straight off after this guy, not until we find out what his play is.”

“His play is arms trading.” Nat interjected dryly as she appeared at the side of the jet.

“Which we are going to gather intelligence on.” Steve looked at her sternly “Nothing more.”

Katie bit her lip, she wasn’t convinced.

“We’ll be fine.” Steve continued, putting both his hands on her shoulders before he deftly changed the subject. “Don’t you have an interview to be getting ready for?”

He watched as the gentle smile spread across her face, a surge of pride flooding his system. She’d recently found out that the author of one of the books SIP had published last year had worked their way onto the Pulitzer Nominee list for fiction. The book itself held a plot centred around a War Veteran and the letters he wrote to his girl back home, and she’d roped Steve into helping the author keep it as factually correct as possible, something he had found strangely nostalgic yet enjoyable. Upon publishing it had flown off the shelves, the original five hundred copies went within three hours causing a mad scramble for a second run and downloads had been off the scale. Other than the Thrombey book they had published, it was their biggest seller to date, shifting almost half a million copies in a month, and with a foreword from Steve Rogers, critics had raved about how poignant it was.

Whilst it hadn’t won the prize, simply being a nominee was an honour in itself according to Katie. The Publicists at SIP had arranged for the author to be interviewed in a few newspapers and magazines along with one of them also requesting Katie, to discuss the launch of her new charity The March Foundation, which would sit alongside Tony and Pepper’s latest initiative- The September Foundation, but instead of focusing on inventors and science, it would instead be centred around authors and the arts.

The name was a play on words, not only being another month to compliment Tony’s, but also to honour both the War Based fiction that had inspired it and the man who had saved her life as March was the month of Bucky’s birth. A decision that had really touched Steve.

She took a deep breath and sighed, as she eyed Natasha heading up the ramp into the jet.

“Just be careful…”

“I’m always careful.” Steve kissed her gently.

“Liar.” She mumbled against his lips. He grinned and pulled back, pecking her mouth once more before he started up the ramp. He paused at the top and turned to face her. “We’ll be back late tonight. Don’t wait up.”

“I won’t!” she teased.

He flashed her another smile and then he hit the button and the ramp started to close. A loud siren told Katie that the hangar door was opening and that was her cue to leave. She headed back over to the steps at the side, leading up to the mezzanine, and as she watched through the window she saw the jet fly out of the side and over the frosty compound grounds. It up through the clouds and gone from sight before she had reached the double doors at the top.

The base was a hive of activity already, despite it being little after seven am. Katie was heading for an hour or so in the gym before her day began properly. She stuck her Bluetooth headphones in, selected the usual work out play-list and began to run on the treadmill, slowly at first to ease herself in- she was a little bit stiff and sore from her sparring session with Natasha yesterday. Nat had really upped the ante on Katie over the last month or so, which was good as Katie was now pretty much on a par with her when it came hand to hand, something Steve had been completely astonished to see after walking in on the two women just as his wife floored Natasha with a well-placed leg swipe the red head didn’t see coming. 

Forty minutes later, Katie swapped to the rower to finish off, and was approximately half way through the three-kilometre distance when her music cut off and the screen to the right of the machine switched over from the play-list to a visual of Rhodey.

“Hey Kiddo,” He smiled as she stopped rowing to look at him. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve had a sensor trip on the outer perimeter of the facility.”

“You send someone out there?” She frowned, catching her breath as she picked up the bottle of water that was to her right.

“Yeah, Sam is currently out there looking for it, just thought, well seeing as Cap and Nat are out, you’re technically the one in charge so…”  

She let out a snort as she swallowed a mouth full of her drink.  Being third in command was something she didn’t really care for, knowing full well it was Steve’s way giving her some kind of authority over simply being the Captain’s Wife, but she’d accepted the gesture simply because he’d been so excited when he had asked her she couldn’t refuse.

“Okay, I’ll go and check it out. “

Standing up she left the gym and moved quickly to the armoury, grabbing a gun, a coms piece and a fleece jacket before quickly making her way outside.

“What’s going on up there, Sam?” Rhodey spoke in her ear as she walked into the cold air, spotting Sam circling above.

“I’m at the location of the sensor trip, but I’m not seeing anything.” He said. “Oh, hang on…”

“What is it?” Katie asked, watching him as he circled above her.

“Roof top…”

“Gimme a lift?” 

Sam swooped down from the clear, winter sky and she grabbed his arm as he effortlessly pulled her up, dropping them both onto the flat roof of one of the buildings.

“I can see you.” Sam called out loudly as they landed.

Katie frowned, as she didn’t know what Sam was talking about until out of nowhere a man in a red and silver suit, with an insect like helmet suddenly appeared. Katie cocked her gun and aimed it at him.

“Who the hell are you?” she questioned. As they watched the man started to awkwardly introduce himself to Sam, his mask lifted to reveal a shaky smile as he waved.

“Hi, I’m Scott. I know who you are, obviously, you’re Katie Stark, I mean Rogers…” Scott started trying to hold back his enthusiasm and motioning towards Sam and Katie with a chuckle. "I’m a big fan.”

"Appreciate it. But like the lady asked, who the hell are you?” Sam echoed Katie’s earlier sentiments.

“I’m Ant-Man.” Scott or Ant-Man answered confidently. Sam and Katie shared an incredulous look and Katie mouthed the name back to him and he shrugged. Katie lowered her gun slightly.

“Wanna tell me what you want?” She questioned Ant-Man as the man tried to explain why the two Avengers hadn’t heard of him.

Scott pointed towards a building to their left, maintaining eye contact with Katie as he spoke “I was hoping I could grab a piece of technology. Just for a few days, then I’d return it. I need it to, uh, save the world- you know how that is.”

“Yeah, we know exactly how that is,” Sam said to Scott and Katie felt her mouth twitching into a grin.

“What piece of technology, and what do you mean saving the world?” she asked.

“I’d love to tell you but Hank Pym said never to trust a Stark.” The man called Scott, or Ant-Man was almost apologetic. “Even though you’re technically a Rogers now.”

Katie frowned, she’d never heard of a Hank Pym before, but that was irrelevant now. Sam gave a sigh besides her and stepped forwards.

“We’ve located the breach.” he spoke “Bringing him in…”

“I’m really sorry about this.” Scott rushed out and as Sam reached out to him he vanished.

“What the…” Katie spun round and felt something hit her, hard in the back. She fell forward onto the gravelled surface of the roof before rolling onto her back, gun raised again just in time to see Sam flying backwards off the edge, tumbling through the air and grappling with something whilst flying over the lawns of the facility.

Katie could do nothing but stand and watch from her vantage point as Sam continued to wrestle with, then shoot at the man who could shrink and grow seemingly at will. And if she was completely honest, it was kind of entertaining to watch.

“This guy would actually be pretty useful.” Katie mused into the coms, trying but failing to hide the amusement in her voice “Are you recording this? For future, recruitment purposes obviously.”

“All over it.” Rhodey responded, a slight chuckle punctuating his confirmation.

It was when the two men crashed into the storage unit that Ant-Man had wanted to break into in the first place that she started to get concerned.

“Err do we have cameras in there?” she questioned Rhodey.

“Uh… negative.” Rhodey answered after a short pause.

“Shit.” Running to the side of the roof she scaled down the metal ladder at the side, dropping the last eight feet or so, landing gently before she ran towards the storage building. At that point Sam came crashing backwards through the metal door and Katie flung her arms up to shield her face from the debris before glancing up. Sam’s flight pattern was jerky and off and he was gripping at his pack on his back.

“He’s in my pack!” Sam shouted before he landed hard in the dirt and with a groan, pulled himself into a standing position, yanking off his goggles.

“You okay?” Katie asked as she ran over to him.

“Yeah, fine…” He sighed before he looked at her. “You know, it’s really important to me that Cap never finds out about this.”

Katie grinned and the pair of them scouted around but to no avail, there was no sign of Ant-Man, or Scott anywhere. Katie instructed Rhodey to get the door fixed and lock it down again and said she would speak to Tony to find out what was in there. Sam was luckily not hurt, just a slight bruising to his pride so Katie left him at the lab with Lawson to look at making the repairs to his pack before she headed off to get changed.

*****

Steve and Natasha landed in Sadove, Crimea and were instantly greeted by the man who was leading the investigation into the raid on the local police station. The last three out of six hits the guy had made had been on small, local outfits with less resistance than the other places he had hit but that was hardly surprising. The former SHIELD base he had hit in Mexico had been heavily guarded, which made Steve think that he had perhaps suffered losses to his team which was making him rethink his strategy. As Natasha chatted to the man in his local language, Steve hung back before the man nodded to Natasha and strode towards him.

“Captain Rogers.” he said, English thick with accent “Inspector Chernov.”

Steve shook the man’s hand “Pleasure to meet you in person Inspector.”

“So you are interested in the man who raided our local station?” “He’s been on our radar for a while.” Steve said, choosing his words carefully “But we don’t have much to go on.” “Well, I’m not sure we can help but I can take you down there and you can see for yourself.” Steve nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”

It wasn’t a long drive, and once they arrived Steve and Natasha were allowed to wander round the scene undisturbed, providing they didn’t interfere with the police and teams already swamping the area. Their search showed them nothing new and they moved to watching the CCTV which the Authorities had refused to send them. They could have hacked into it, but Steve was keen to keep the tentatively growing communication lines with Crimea and Russia as amicable as possible, especially in the light of Sokovia. The Avengers were not a political party, so by remaining respectful of their requests to meet only in person he hoped it went someway to proving they were here to help and had no ulterior motives.

As such they sat in the mobile control centre, scanning the CCTV. Steve watched the footage and sighed.

“This isn’t HYDRA.” Nat concluded and Steve agreed.

“I know, it’s not their MO. This guy is too haphazard.” Steve pondered. “Just wondering why, considering how well organised he is, he is leaving so much devastation behind.”

“Minimum effort leaving maximum casualties.” Natasha said, watching the footage “He simply doesn’t care who he takes out.” “Well he’s hardly gonna care about that if he’s dealing black market arms.” Steve sighed.

They watched the footage some more and Steve held his hand up to Natasha to play it at normal speed when they reached the bit where the key perps were on screen.

“What’s he doing?” He frowned, looking at Crossbones. The man was stood in the middle of the room, looking around.

“He’s scanning for Cameras.” Nat answered as they both watched. 

There was something familiar about the way the man walked and held himself, but Steve couldn’t quite place it. As they continued the footage, Crossbones located the camera they were watching through and looked directly up at it, pulling his mask up a little to reveal his mouth, clearly saying something.

“Can you enhance that?” Steve asked. Natasha tapped at it.

It zoomed in on the man and Natasha spoke “looks like something about it being personal…”

She held her phone up to the footage and then pressed something, and the phone spoke to her in a robotic voice.

“Big Guy…I just want you to know, this aint personal.” Steve’s gut clenched. The last time he had heard those words were in an elevator in the Triskelion.

“Rogers?” Natasha looked at him, noticing the nerve which was twitching in his jaw “What is it? Does that mean something to you?”

“In a fashion.” He turned to face her. “It’s Rumlow.”

****** The interviews went well and once the photos etc were done Katie and Tony retreated to the living area of the Tower for a well-earned drink as they put the final touches of their tour together. They were to start visiting various Universities across the US to roll out their foundation grants. To ease them both in gently, the first University they were going to was Columbia, so not far from home. Tony and Pepper would be presenting and discussing to students within the School of Engineering and Applied Sciences and Katie in the School of the Arts for Students on the Writing Programme.

Their chatter moved from work to Tony asking how the Compound was going, and Katie remembered the events of that morning.

“You ever heard of a bloke called Hank Pym?” she asked suddenly.

Tony paused for a moment, frowning at her sudden change of subject, but something stirred in his mind. “The name rings a bell, hang on…FRIDAY, search all files reference Hank Pym.” He instructed, tapping at something on his tablet.

After a few seconds something flashed up in the corner of the screen.

“Yeah, here you go.” He pressed another button causing the image to reflect in front of them as a hologram. “He worked with Dad and SHIELD on a programme called Project GOLIATH.”

“What the hell was that?” Katie asked, taking a pull from her bottle.

“A research programme into some kind of Nano particle.” Tony said as the pair of them simultaneously ran through the information on the screen.

“Ahhhh.” Katie nodded, “makes sense…” “What does?”

Katie explained about the encounter with Scott and Tony gave a hum of agreement. 

“That could actually be kinda useful.”

“I know.” she agreed “But he vanished after he got whatever he wanted. Any thoughts on what it could be?”

“That facility holds a load of crap that was Dad’s” Tony said simply “Could be anything.”

“Well, nothing we could see was missing, but it might be worth you taking a look.” she suggested.

He shrugged “I can do, but there was nothing remotely dangerous in there. Was just a load of old signal jammers and code breakers we don’t really need anymore.”

“Well, I did try and ask what him what it was he wanted, you know, on account of him saying he was saving the world, maybe we could have helped with that, being the Avengers and all, but he simply turned round and said ‘Hank Pym told me never to trust a Stark’.”

She drained her bottle of beer as Tony did the same and he stood up, taking the empties to retrieve 2 more from the fridge.

“Clearly one of many in the long line of people dad pissed off.” Tony rolled his eyes as he popped the lids, before he sighed “I’m actually surprised no one tried to kill him before, you know, he rammed their car into a tree.”

Katie looked at her brother and swallowed. Tony had no idea how close to the truth he was.

“Sorry.” he slid the beer across the bar, mistaking her guilty silence for one of upset “That was out of order.”

“For all his faults I don’t think Dad was a bad man.” Katie spoke quietly “And he did love us.”

“I know.” Tony nodded, squeezing her hand.

She stayed for another drink and then headed home. She had checked in with Sam before heading back to their apartment and she was settled on the couch with a glass of wine when Steve called.

“Hey Soldier.” she said, smiling at the screen as she flicked the phone to project the image in front of her, muting the TV.

“Hey Darlin’.” He smiled back

“So, how was it?” she asked

“Well we got the intel.” 

“Solid?”

“Pretty solid yeah.” Natasha spoke, appearing by his side. “We think we know who he is anyway.” “Who?”

Steve sighed. “It’s Rumlow.” “What?” Katie spluttered into her wine glass. “Are you sure?”

“Oh pretty sure.” Steve nodded. “He left me a clear message.”

“Steve recognised him on the Video so I ran a crosscheck.” Nat picked up. “Turns out he was listed as severely injured and was taken to the hospital. After that, our trail runs cold.” 

“Until now.” Katie sighed.

“We’ve also got a list of his associates, some known faces he’s been seen with.” Steve shrugged “So we’re putting out an alert.”

“Doesn’t give us much to go on though.” Katie rubbed at her temples.

“When have we ever had much to go on?” Natasha asked and Katie shrugged

“Fair point.” she conceded as Natasha moved off out of sight.

“So how has your day been?” Katie looked back at Steve as he spoke.

“Not bad actually.” she said, “Interviews went well, oh, and we had a bit of an incident at base before.” “Incident?” he frowned, “What kind of incident?”

“Attempted break in, nothing major.”

“Everyone ok?”

“Yeah, honestly it was no big deal, I’ll fill you in on when you get home. For the rest of the day once the interviews were done Tony and I drank beer.”

“Sounds pretty productive.” Steve raised an eyebrow, smile playing on his lips.

“Beer is always productive.” Katie informed him and he chuckled.

“We’ll be airborne in thirty minutes and then we should be home in about four hours.” He said, as Katie looked at her watch. It was almost 8:30 pm. 

“Alright, I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you.”

“And you.” She blew him a kiss and cut the call with a yawn. She was tired. Really tired, so she headed off for a bath. After soaking and listening to music for forty minutes she dried off and shoved on one of Steve’s T-shirts before climbing into bed and laying there for a moment, flicking through the TV channels. She settled on an episode of Family Guy and snuggled down into the large bed, wrapping herself in the soft covers. It always felt odd sleeping without Steve being there. Sometimes she quite enjoyed being able to starfish in the middle of the Emperor sized bed but tonight she wasn’t enjoying being alone.

****

Steve was whacked when they arrived home. Bidding good night to Natasha, instead of changing in the armoury he headed straight back and let himself into their quarters. Crossing the hallway he made his way into the bedroom he paused, a gentle smile spreading on his face. Illuminated in the light from the hallway he could see Katie was curled up in the middle of the bed, using his pillow as a hugging buddy. He quietly crossed the room and perched on the bed, stripping off his boots and uniform top. He paused slightly as Katie stirred and he turned to look at her, gently brushing her hair of her face. He glanced down at the freckles he knew by memory, long thick lashes, soft pink lips, that familiar Stark nose…she looked so peaceful asleep.

She stirred again, and that nose he adored wrinkled in the way it did when she was waking up and she cracked an eye open before her face split into a smile at the sight of her husband.

“Hey.”

“Hey, baby girl.” He smiled, his hand cupping her cheek. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you”

“It’s Okay.” She yawned, leaning into his touch.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are?” He asked, and through the tiny sliver of light coming from the hallway Katie could see his eyes were full of their usual warmth.

“I don’t think you did today, no.”

“Well in that case, you’re beautiful” He smiled and she chuckled slightly as he dropped a soft kiss on her head. “I’m gonna take a shower and then I’ll be right with you.”

She watched him appreciatively as he stood up and pulled his compression-shirt over his head, leaving him bare form the waist up as he headed into the en-suite. For a moment she was tempted to join him, but then decided against it, laying back onto her side, dozing.

It wasn’t long before the bed dipped and she felt him slide under the covers next to her. She turned over to snuggle up into the crook of his shoulder, her head laying on his chest.

“So, you wanna tell what the incident was today?” he asked, his right hand reaching up to play with the strands of her hair that fell over her shoulder.

“Oh yeah.” she grinned before she launched into an explanation about Scott-slash-Ant Man. He fell silent for a moment but in the end came to the same conclusion as Tony had, there was nothing in there that was dangerous so they just needed to remain vigilant.

“Yeah, well Sam seemed to be taking vigilant to the extreme as he’s already been on the phone to numerous contracts, trying to track him down.” she said “I think he’s a bit annoyed the guy basically kicked his ass. Rhodey caught it all on video but Sam told me never to tell you about it. He’s taken it quite personally.” “I’m not surprised, he had his ass kicked.” Steve sniggered. “Where do I get a copy of the CCTV?”

Katie grinned, “I have it on my phone, Rhodey sent it to me.”

“Play it.” he instructed.

“What now?” “Yes, right now.” he nodded, moving so he was sat up, jolting her off his chest.

“No Sam will kill me!” she laughed, propping herself up on her elbow

“Screw Sam!” he snorted “He plays those damned Phys Ed videos every chance he gets.”

“That’s true.” Katie pondered “Ok, hang on…”

She turned, reaching over for the phone and the TV remote. Blinking at the sudden light, once her eyes were accustomed to the change she pressed a few buttons on her phone and beamed the footage to the TV on the wall. She had to admit, it looked even funnier from the video play back than it had when she had been there.

Steve let out a huge, genuine laugh, his head thrown back, banging against the headboard, arm clutched across his chest as he laughed, and laughed.

“I’m so showing that at our next briefing.” he said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

“You can’t…” “Oh, I can!”

****

The next morning the pair of them made their way to the briefing room both munching on a piece of toast and each carrying a mug of coffee. It was early, before 8, but Steve wanted the team to be prepared. Everyone filed into the room along with some good humoured grumbling about the time before they dropped into their preferred seats and looked to the front of the room.

“I know it’s early and I’m sorry…” Steve held his hands up, looking round at the team assembled in front of him “But this is important.”

“More important than sleep?” Sam yawned.

Steve ignored him. “Alright, here’s what we already know.”  Steve began to explain how they believed Rumlow to be Crossbones, the masked man who had been causing a whole lot of chaos in the wake of what happened at the Triskelion. Katie knew he was annoyed at himself for not realising he had survived sooner, but even if they had, they’d so much going on, not to mention Ultron had been a much bigger threat in the immediate future

"He’s been targeting former SHIELD labs and police stations all over the country and selling products on the black market.” Natasha spoke.

“Police stations?” Katie asked.

“We think he suffered heavy losses at the raid prior to the last three, so he’s going for easier targets whilst he regroups.” Natasha answered.

“Still no intel on who his buyers are?” Wanda asked.

“No.” Steve shook his head, “He seems to have become an independent terrorist, and doesn’t appear to be working for anyone”

“Our recon yesterday told us that Rumlow seems to be operating with this guy.” Natasha explained as the photos flashed up “He’s known as the Black Mamba…” “Black Mamba?” Wanda deadpanned. “Cross Bones and Black Mamba?”

“NATO has every available pair of eyes out looking for them.”  Steve ignored Wanda and looked at Rhodey.

“Soon as they break cover, we’ll know.” Rhodey nodded

“So then what?” Sam frowned

“More recon?” Katie asked

Steve looked at his wife and nodded. “Possibly, but for now we need to let intelligence do their job. But be prepared, when we get a lead I want to be ready to go.”

There were mumbles around the room and Steve let the team lead the discussion. Sam commented on the crap code names again, causing Wanda to laugh. Katie suggested they should compile a detailed profile on Rumlow, see if they could find a pattern to his behaviour, nodding to Vision. the AI had a knack for it as did Katie, so Steve and Natasha nodded, both agreeing it was a good idea.

“We need to be vigilant.” Steve instructed. “Keep our eyes open for anything that’s out of the ordinary.” He caught Katie’s eye, a wicked smirk crossed his face and she shook her head smiling as he continued “Speaking of which…FRIDAY, play the video”

“Certainly Captain Rogers.” The pictures of Rumlow and Black Mamba disappeared from the screen and suddenly the footage of Sam spiralling through the air started to play. The room started to snigger as Sam looked at Katie who held her hands up in an “it wasn’t me!” gesture.

“Oh come on Man!” He groaned as the room gleefully watched the film, laughter ringing round the room.

******

The next four months ticked by with no further information on Rumlow. They pulled together a potted history which tracked the hospital he had been in, when he had escaped (the local authorities had been searching for him for ages since he threatened his nurse upon waking before violently breaking out) his movements since (ones they knew about and some they hadn’t) but it didn’t give them anything new.

Katie and Tony were buried deeply in their Foundation work, which was taking up a lot of Katie’s time so she wasn’t as close to the investigations as she could have been. Steve was fine with that though, the further away she was from Rumlow frankly the better, but he still made sure she was involved with what they had found and she attended the briefings as best she could when she wasn’t travelling the country. Steve’s chest burst with pride every time he saw his girl on the news, in papers, as the press seemed to be lavishing praise upon the siblings for what they were doing. 

Then, one day in the middle of May, they struck gold when one of the Facial Recognition Alerts they had set up pinged to Black Mamba being spotted in a Lagos, Nigeria. As a result Steve had scrambled them all to attention as soon as he could, which was four am. But there were no complaints about the time, not when they knew this could be their chance to bring him in. They all pitched round the screen as Steve and Natasha identified the local police station that they suspected of him hitting, given where the FR had pinged several times.

“We think they are scoping this area.” Nat said, drawing a red circle round a part of the town.

Katie moved the screen with her fingers, enlarging the aerial shots as she looked at them, her analytical brain going ten to the dozen.

“Layout looks pretty standard.” she said, scanning the map, frowning slightly. Something was nagging at her. And as she looked, she realised what it was.

“What is it?” Steve asked, recognising the tone of her voice and frown on her face.

“The Science Institute.” She nodded towards the screen. “Big white building at the end of the road.”

“Biological weapons are big on the black market.” Sam cottoned on, nodding slightly.

“Yeah but his recent previous hits and our pattern analysis don’t give us any reason to believe that’s what he’s going to be aiming for.” Nat suggested

“You said yourself that you suspected he was going for easier targets whilst he regrouped.” Katie bit her lip. “What if he has?”

“We have to assume Rumlow will go for the police station, it’s the best intel we have.” Steve looked at her and he noticed the expression on Katie’s face as she crossed her arms and opened her mouth to argue. “But we should be vigilant, keep alert.”

She exchanged a glance with Sam, who simply shrugged

“We do this with stealth.” Steve continued, “I want us on the ground and out of sight, we need to catch him with as little fuss or danger to civilians as possible”

"Yeah, and with that in mind Viz you may need to sit this one out.” Nat tossed out and Vision nodded deprecatingly

“We’re still working on him blending in.” Wanda added.

“Same for you too Rhodey.” Steve looked at him “We need someone back here, we could be gone a few days.”

Rhodey nodded. “No problem Cap.” “Get what you need. Wheels up in twenty.” Steve dismissed everyone who immediately went their separate ways to prepare for the upcoming mission leaving Katie, Natasha and Steve alone

“You think she’s ready?” Natasha looked at Steve, nodding to Wanda. He took a deep breath, staring at the door through which she had just left with Vision.

“You say she’s been training hard.” He spoke after a moments pause, looking at Nat.

“Yeah, she has but her powers are still largely impacted by her emotions.”

“Aren’t everyone’s?” Katie asked. “I mean I’m angry or upset I fight harder, as you know.” “Yeah but,” Nat sighed “It isn’t the same, she can do a lot of damage.”

“We have the bare bones of a team as it is.” Steve shook his head and Katie looked down, feeling slightly guilty. She had discussed this with Steve, she wasn’t going. The Stark Foundation Tour had another few visits to Universities this week. Steve spotted the look on her face and he gently nudged her arm “That’s not a criticism honey…” “I know…” she bit her lip. Maybe she should postpone…

“Throw in the fact that this is the first full team mission we’ve had since Ultron and I don’t see any choice but to take Wanda” Steve shrugged, ending the conversation.

Nat took a deep breath and nodded “You’re right. And maybe being in an actual mission environment might help her gain some control, I mean practice makes perfect.”

“You trying to convince me or yourself?” he asked, eyeing her

“Both.” she drawled, heading out of the door.

Katie took a deep breath as Steve turned to her. “You best go.” she smiled softly. Steve bit his lip before he pulled her into an embrace, kissing her softly.

“I’ll call as soon as I can.” He promised, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Stay safe, please.” She whispered as he kissed the tip of her nose and hurried out of the door.

Once he was gone, Katie sank onto a chair, her head in her hands. She was torn, really torn. For the last year or so, post Ultron, they’d had a pretty quiet time of it, mopping up any stray Hydra operatives that strolled into their patch. But this, this was big. Was the Foundation really more important than putting a halt to whatever shitty plan Rumlow was trying to pull off? She was still an Avenger after all, she’d never quit that, and would never quit that.

She’d always be Supernova, whether she wanted to be or not.

“I’m gonna regret this.” She groaned to herself as she jumped up, and headed after the rest of the team.

*****

Steve, at first, had tried to argue against her coming but when Natasha had pointed out they could do with the support he had relented and the team had been bolstered by Supernova’s return to active duty.

Their support staff had done a great job on such a short time, and rented the group a four bedroomed apartment overlooking the street the Police Station was on. It wasn’t fancy, but it was the last place anyone would think would house Avengers. They spent their first day setting up a command centre, with coms links back to base and the next morning they began their recon.

The first two days were completely uneventful. No sign of Rumlow or any of his associates. Nat was the expert at covert ops and so she took the lead, directing them to all the right places coaching Wanda along the way and Steve was pleasantly surprised to see how well the younger girl took to the task, blending in with the locals. Katie took to observing from up high with Sam, her attention on the Biological Institute, unable to shake the nagging feeling she had about the place. She hadn’t mentioned it since their brief a few days ago, but Steve knew when she had an idea in her head she wouldn’t rest so he left her to it. Between them they had the area covered, which was good enough.

On the evening of the fourth day Wanda, Sam and Natasha headed out for a little undercover work in the bars at night, “So you guys can have a little undercover activity of your own” Sam teasingly stated, patting Steve on the back as he left, drawing an exasperated sigh from the Soldier. Nevertheless, the door had hardly clicked shut before Steve had his wife pinned up against a wall, hands wandering all over her body, lips and teeth clashing, her hand fisting in the slightly longer strands of hair at the top of his head as they’d furiously taken advantage of their first time alone in days.

The next morning Katie woke at about five-forty-five am and rolled over only to find the bed empty besides her. Steve could never rest when they were in the middle of a case like this. The clothes they had shed and left scattered all over the floor the night before were now folded and placed on top of the dresser, and she had to smile. Even now he was a total neat freak. Knowing full well where he would be she climbed out of the bed, pulled on Steve’s T-shirt and a pair of shorts before making her way into the dark corridor. She stopped in the doorway of the small dining room which was functioning as a makeshift office and sure enough, there he was, the lamp softly illuminated his handsome face as he flicked through a file, crease evident between his brows.

“Soldier, you’re up so early.” She said gently. Steve had heard her coming of course. Smiling softly, as he was always pleased to see her, he turned to face her as she crossed the room.

“Yeah, sorry, I woke about half an hour ago and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“You know, I get that you’re fed up of just waiting but sitting here re-reading all this isn’t going to help you know.” Katie sighed, taking the file off him and dropping it onto the wooden table, before she perched on the edge.

“I know, it’s just so goddamned frustrating.” Steve ran his hand over his face. After pondering for a moment Katie stood up and walked behind the chair and placed her hands on his shoulders. He let out a groan of satisfaction and leaned back in his seat as she kneaded the muscles with her hands. She found a particularly bad spot just under his shoulder blade and began to push harder with her thumb. Steve, unable to decide if it was pleasurable or painful, made a little noise which was half way between the two.

“God your shoulders are so knotty.” Katie mused and he left out a breath through his nose moving his head to the side.

“Yeah well, I did a lot of exercise last night.” He quipped back as her hands continued to work at his shoulders.

“I’ll say.” She grinned. “You know that thing you did with your mouth is actually illegal in several countries.” “Good job we live in the land of the free.” His voice was low as he fully relaxed under her touch.  Katie carried on working at his muscles in silence for a moment, happy to let him bliss out. 

“So… answer me a question?” She spoke after a short while, rousing him a little, and he hummed, unable to bring himself to be bothered to talk.

“If you couldn’t sleep why didn’t you wake me to help you?” Her voice was loaded as she leaned forward to wind her arms around his neck, running her hands up and down his chest from behind. Steve loved it when she touched him like that which was why he pouted slightly when she pulled away, but the pout didn’t last long and a smirk crossed his face as Katie walked round to the front of his chair

“And how, exactly, would you have done that?” His hands moved to rest on her hips as she lowered herself so that she was straddling him. She slid one of her hands around the back of his head to tangle in his hair the other settling on his chest.

“Reckon I can think of a few ways.”  She smirked slyly before using her hand in his hair to pull him forward and connect their lips. Steve kissed her back immediately as one hand crept up the back of her top, the other on the side of her thigh, sliding up her shorts.

“Sleepy yet?” She murmured.

“Not exactly the word I would use.” Steve raised an eyebrow.

She grinned and then began to rock her hips on top of him grinding down on his growing hardness and he sighed slightly, kissing her harder as she pushed down again. With an automatic reaction he raised his hips, rocking up to meet her and this time she groaned as she could feel the friction of their clothes grinding against her clit. His hands were now firmly holding her hips underneath her, no, his top, and he sat forward so his mouth could cover the spot under her ear that drove her wild. With a soft sigh she titled her head to the side as he trailed kisses across her jaw until his mouth met her lips again. His hands reached down to grasp the hem of her top and he had just begun to slide it upwards when they were interrupted by a raspy voice.

“I thought all the making out fully clothed supposedly stopped when you reached the age of seventeen.” Natasha scoffed from the doorway. Katie looked up over Steve’s shoulder as he sighed, dropping his head onto her chest, letting out a groan of frustration.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” Katie sighed.

“Don’t you know how to lock a door?” She retorted, dryly.

“I take it this isn’t a social call?” Steve’s voice was muffled as he spoke into his wife’s chest, not bothering to move his head. Katie chuckled a little, her hand running through his hair.

“Half and half.” Natasha arched an eyebrow, “Unsociable hour it maybe but Wanda’s already up and wants breakfast, she was going to head out to the local bakery but I thought it might be an idea to start the re-con early.”

Steve’s head looked up to Katie’s as she shifted off his lap and straightened out her clothing and hair. Steve glanced down at his crotch and Katie raised an eyebrow slightly as he stood up and adjusted his sweats in an attempt to hide his slowly ebbing arousal before he turned to face the red head.

“Well, you’re the expert in this covert stuff.” He raised his brow. “What have you got in mind?”

*****

“All right, what do you see?” Steve was coaxing Wanda, as ever, to observe her surroundings, see and hear everything, on the job training he supposed you could call it.

Meanwhile, Katie glanced down from the rooftop on which Sam and her were currently stood, her scanners doing their usual work. No weapons spotted yet.

“Standard beat cops. Small station. Quiet street. It’s a good target” Wanda’s voice came through the ear piece Steve was wearing.

“There’s an ATM in the South Corner.” he replied “which means….”

“Cameras” Wanda said instantly.

“Both cross streets are one way.” He carried on

“So, compromised escape routes.”

“Means our guy doesn’t care about being seen, he isn’t afraid to make a mess on the way out.” Steve concluded. “You see that Range Rover halfway up the block?”

“Yeah, the red one? It’s cute”

“It’s also bulletproof,” Katie cut in as FRIDAY completed a scan on the vehicle “Which means private security…”

“Which means more guns, which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us” Nat finished

“You guys know I can move things with my mind, right? “ Wanda replied

“Looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature.” Natasha continued

“Anybody ever tell you you’re a little paranoid?” Sam asked and Katie turned to look at him, retracting her face plate to give him a grin.

“Not to my face. Why? Did you hear something?” the exchange continued.

“Eyes on target, folks” Steve spoke firmly with an air of authority, bringing them back to the job in hand. “This is the best lead we’ve had on Rumlow in six months. I don’t want to lose him.”

“If he sees us coming that won’t be a problem. He kind of hates us.” Sam replied

As Steve watched he noticed that a garbage truck was slowly pushing its way through traffic, with no regard to pedestrians or other vehicles. He frowned and kept his eyes on it as it continued to gather momentum as it went.  

“Sam, Katie…see that garbage truck? Tag it.”

Sam’s small drone launched, swooping down to scan the vehicle as Katie instructed FRIDAY to do the same.

“Give me X-ray.” Sam spoke. There was a pause before he gave a little moan. “That truck’s loaded for max weight.”

“And the driver’s armed.” Katie concluded.

And in that second it dawned on Steve that his wife had been right all along. The Institute was the target after all.

“It’s a battering ram.” Katie’s voice mumbled on the coms, clearly having realised the same thing he had, and with that Steve turned from the window, running for the door.

“Go, now!” He yelled into his coms as he sprinted down the stairs. “There not hitting the station…” “The institute…” Sam spoke as Steve burst onto the street looking up in time to see Falcon and Supernova spiralling into the air.

And once more the fight was on.

**** Chapter 29 Part 1

**Original Posting**

[artificialqueens]

Level Up, Chapter Eleven (Branjie) - Holtzmanns

“I don’t think I could come up with anything negative about you.”

Brooke’s eyes are sincere as she says it, and Vanessa’s heart starts to beat just a little bit faster. Vanessa’s a person who’s always on the go, not one to slow down if she doesn’t have to but Brooke has the ability to make her world pause for just a second. Brooke changes Vanessa’s focus from what’s in front of her to solely her, and Vanessa almost wishes she could keep it there forever.

It’s never that hard for Vanessa to come up with words to reply with, especially not towards Brooke, but her brain feels like it has shuddered to a stop, pressing on the brakes because the small smile on Brooke’s face is more important to focus on. She could say something stupid, something funny, maybe return the sentiment but she doesn’t get a chance to decide on what to do before Yvie lets out a scoff.

“Except for your dislike of Chicken Little. That’s a negative if I’ve ever seen one.”

AN: Hi, I'm still alive, I promise. Popping back into this lovely fic nearly eight months later (a new job, a new apartment, a new city, and a new cat later too) and I love it just as much as I did in January. Eight months is good for plot to marinate and develop and I'm excited to get back to writing this fic again. If you're still around for this journey, thank you and know I'm so grateful for it. Please do tell me your thoughts if you read! Thank you writ for betaing ily <3

“So you have that interview with Glamour, I’ll set it up for some time this week, and Teen Vogue wants to do something on their Youtube channel. Who knew that was a thing? I’m working on Adidas’ rep to finagle a sponsorship outta them, and Under Armour on the backburner just in case-”

Vanessa bursts through the doors of the gym while Detox continues talking in her ear, not at all apologetic about the way that she has to interrupt her as she ambles towards Brooke’s office. “Just reached the gym. We’ll have to continue this later, ‘cause training waits for no one, right?”

“I see exactly what you’re doing, but I’m not mad at it. Go work on building those boxing skills that’ll keep lining your pockets for years. Toodles!”

Vanessa lets out a snort when Detox hangs up the phone. “Toodles? Who the hell says that?”

“Detox?” Brooke looks up from her book, an amused smile on her face. “I know that trick.”

“What trick?” Vanessa squints her eyes as she sits down, trying to read the cover of Brooke’s paperback. “Are you reading Chicken Soup for the Soul? ”

Brooke waves a hand. “Doesn’t matter. And the trick of dipping out of Detox’s phone calls. Why else would you get to the gym so early?”

“Oh, come on. I’m early sometimes. Occasionally,” Vanessa grins, and Brooke doesn’t buy it in the least from the way she raises an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe not. I like Detox, I really do, don’t get me wrong. She’s hysterical and good at her job, real good at it, but damn.”

“Detox works hard,” Brooke nods, understanding in her eyes. “It’s a lot to handle sometimes.”

“She cranks up the exposure by a million and targets it in specific places and it works, ‘cause I have a lot of followers and deals now but…”

“But what?”

Brooke leans forward, pushing her book to the side as she looks earnestly at Vanessa. It’s striking, sometimes, how Brooke gives her full attention. How much she cares sometimes.

It’s nice.

“It feels real wild, y’know? Like all I did was become a meme, and now my face is going to be in a Spotify commercial. How does that jump happen?” Vanessa shifts in her chair, letting out a sigh. “It’s only been a few weeks.”

It’s as if Vanessa is riding in a car that’s only getting faster and faster, not quite in control of the steering wheel or knowing when she’s going to be able to stop. Sure, the ride is fun, but it also feels like she’s driving without a license, as if she’s skipped the learner’s permit stage and hit the highway instead.

“She wants to capitalize on it as much as possible. Keep you in the spotlight even after the next big meme rolls around,” Brooke shrugs, before pausing for a second, a look of concern in her eyes. “It’s not too much, is it? I can always talk to Detox with you if you feel like it’s overwhelming-”

“Nah, I’ll survive,” Vanessa shrugs, giving her best reassuring smile to Brooke. “Lush sent me some free shit the other day. I like goodie bags.”

Brooke snorts. “Fair enough. Bath bombs are a reason to keep going.”

“Want some? I got enough for a month's worth of spa days.” Vanessa makes a mental note to bring some of the freebies for Brooke on their next practice. She’s earned half of everything, at least.

“You have any of the sakura ones?” Brooke is tentative with her question, and Vanessa nods enthusiastically.

“You’re getting all of ‘em.”

“Now, hold on a second-”

“It’s six. Don’t we have practice to start?” Vanessa’s up and out of the office before Brooke can protest any further. “I’m gonna go change.”

Practice is nice. Practice feels familiar amongst all the new chaos in Vanessa’s life. It lets her turn her brain off and get away from the people that recognize her out in public, the way her Instagram is now solely for sponsored posts. The way she feels like a caricature of herself, almost, because others have an opinion of who she is based on a ten second video clip.

But practice isn’t like that. In the gym, Brooke is the same as ever, pushing and pushing her until sweat is drenching her back and her mind is spinning and she feels more alive than she ever has. When Brooke throws moves at Vanessa that she has to work in overdrive to block and counter with some of her own, it’s familiar. Even though she’s tired and gasping for breath, it’s what she knows how to do, and in an environment that isn’t unsettling or foreign.

The best part about it? Vanessa can still feel herself learning. Growing. Stepping up to the challenges that Brooke throws at her. Sure, she’s not aching to get back into the competition ring anytime soon, but the approving smiles from Brooke when she gets in a good hit or when she avoids a shot that would previously knock her on the ground gives her a thrill every time.

The end of practice leaves Vanessa with a new sense of longing that’s only been present the last few weeks, since this whole meme mess has started. Leaving the gym is hard, because it means Vanessa has to go outside again, pull her hat down when passerby on the sidewalk give her a second look. She has to unlock her phone and pretend to be busy, but then she’s faced with comments pouring in on every social media account that she opens. She can text one of her friends but it’s hard to continue a conversation, really, after it starts with a rousing Miss Vanjie, no matter how much in jest.

Being outside the gym means that she’s reminded of her new loss of normalcy.

She takes her time switching back into her sweats after she showers, dragging her feet as she leaves the change room with her gym bag slung over her shoulder. When she squints her eyes she can see Brooke at the far end of the gym, teetering on a stool as she repositions one of the crooked banners. Brooke turns around almost as if she can tell Vanessa is there, a good natured smile and an easy wave following immediately.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Need any help?” Vanessa’s stalling a bit by asking, but maybe Brooke really could use a hand with the banners, or at least an extra set of eyes to make sure that they’re nice and straight.

She’s just helpful, that’s all.

Brooke, to her credit, doesn’t call Vanessa out for it as she squints, admiring her handiwork. “I think they’re as aligned as they’re ever going to be. I’m going to get ready to leave for the night, too.”

“Oh,” Vanessa doesn’t mean to sound a little disappointed as Brooke jumps off the stool, fiddling with the jacket that’s slung across her arm. “Already?”

“It’s almost eight thirty,” Brooke points out, padding past Vanessa towards her office door and grabbing her coat off of the hook. “You’re not tired and ready to go home yet?”

“I just…”

Vanessa trails off, looking down at the ground. She’s not sure what to say, really. All that’s waiting for her is her apartment, but she can’t mindlessly scroll Twitter or Instagram before bed without seeing her face again. She needs to reply to her friends’ texts, but the notifications are piling up on top of one another like a mountain that she’s not really sure how she’s going to climb.

Vanessa just wants to avoid it all.

Brooke pauses, and each second that passes makes Vanessa’s heart constrict because maybe she should just try to explain, but she doesn’t know how to and it feels like too much-

“C’mon. My roommate and I are having a late dinner and rewatching Chicken Little. Are you in for a nacho night?”

Brooke’s looking at her expectantly and Vanessa wants to say yes, but what pops out of her mouth is what’s pressing on her even more. “Did you say rewatching Chicken Little?”

“It’s a good movie!” Brooke’s defensiveness makes Vanessa crack a smile despite how restless she feels, how much she’s fidgeting while standing in place. “Come over and you’ll see.”

“Y’know, we haven’t talked about movies before, but this recommendation is making me question what your taste is like,” Vanessa lets out a giggle, when Brooke’s mock offense takes over her face as she puts a hand to her heart.

“The disrespect. You’re not getting nachos with those kinds of statements,” Brooke grabs Vanessa’s gym bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she holds the door open. “Now c’mon.”

Brooke’s apartment is not what Vanessa expects - there are colours and tapestries lining the walls and even one on the ceiling, and she’s pretty sure she sees a bong on top of the refrigerator. It’s pretty, though, with the art splashed across every free surface and the shelves filled with books upon books, piles of even more on the actual floor. Vanessa has to resist the urge to go and sit down on the wicker chair in front of the television that’s suspended from the ceiling.

“Yvie’s the one behind the decor.” Brooke has a knowing smile on her face and Vanessa can feel her cheeks heat up, from how easily Brooke can read her mind. “Moved in a few years ago after she broke up with a long term partner. Never really got around to adding things of my own to the walls.”

Vanessa snickers before she can even get her joke out properly. “What would you add? A Chicken Little poster?”

Brooke, for her part, doesn’t miss a beat. “Nah. A poster of your meme.”

“Wow-”

“I know we were thinking nachos, but picture this. Chicken nuggets while we watch Chicken Little.” A girl with bright green hair pops her head out from behind a door, waving at the two of them.

Vanessa waves back, her eyebrows lifting higher and higher on her forehead when she realizes how tall the girl is as she walks closer. Even Brooke has to look up at her which is a strange sight on its own, considering how much Brooke towers over Vanessa.

Then again, Vanessa’s used to being the short one.

“Vanessa here is doubting the movie’s genius,” Brooke raises an eyebrow, and the girl lets out a fake gasp.

“Um, not a movie. Chicken Little is a film. An artistic masterpiece.”

“Are you two the presidents of the Chicken Little fan club?” Vanessa asks, as Brooke sticks her tongue out at her.

“Yes. And no, you can’t join.”

It’s interesting how Brooke’s work demeanor has dropped now that she’s in her own apartment, her normally squared shoulders a little more relaxed. It reminds Vanessa of when they went roller skating, seeing how much fun Brooke had while pulling her around the rink.

Vanessa wants to see more of it.

Brooke points at her roommate as the girl sticks out a hand. “Ness, this is Yvie. Yvie, Vanessa. I’m coaching her.”

“You’re introducing her as if I haven’t heard you talk about her every single day for the last however many months,” Yvie drawls and Brooke’s sputter is immediate, making Vanessa’s breath hitch a little in her throat.

Brooke talks about her?

Yvie pats Brooke on the back as if she’s choking on her water rather than on some words, sticking her other hand out for Vanessa to shake. “You’re Brooke’s favourite student. Also her only student, technically, but still a favourite nonetheless.”

Brooke’s cheeks are bright pink and Vanessa can’t deny that the sight is adorable, seeing her flustered for once. Still. Brooke probably recaps their training sessions and nothing more.

“As long as it’s mostly positive,” Vanessa shrugs, and the way Brooke emphatically nods makes her feel better than she wants to admit.

“I don’t think I could come up with anything negative about you.”

Brooke’s eyes are sincere as she says it, and Vanessa’s heart starts to beat just a little bit faster. Vanessa’s a person who’s always on the go, not one to slow down if she doesn’t have to but Brooke has the ability to make her world pause for just a second. Brooke changes Vanessa’s focus from what’s in front of her to solely her, and Vanessa almost wishes she could keep it there forever.

It’s never that hard for Vanessa to come up with words to reply with, especially not towards Brooke, but her brain feels like it has shuddered to a stop, pressing on the brakes because the small smile on Brooke’s face is more important to focus on. She could say something stupid, something funny, maybe return the sentiment but she doesn’t get a chance to decide on what to do before Yvie lets out a scoff.

“Except for your dislike of Chicken Little. That’s a negative if I’ve ever seen one.”

The platter of chicken nuggets that Yvie places on the coffee table with a flourish is impressive, to say the least. There’s a little bowl of ketchup on the side, along with sweet and sour sauce and something that looks to be...ranch?

Whatever it is, Vanessa’s nose wrinkles at the sight. “Which one of you eats ranch with chicken nuggets? Is that legal?”

Yvie’s cackle and Brooke’s flushed cheeks tell Vanessa all she needs to know as she plops down beside Brooke on the couch, nudging her side. “Really?”

“The flavour combination is great!” Brooke mutters, grabbing a chicken nugget and dipping it in the ranch for posterity, holding it up close to Vanessa’s face. “Try it.”

Vanessa scooches herself towards the edge of the couch, away from the chicken nugget and the ranch that’s slowly dripping down like a melting ice cream. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s delicious-”

“It’s cursed-”

“More for me, then,” Brooke tosses the chicken nugget into her mouth, and Vanessa’s not sure, really, how she’s handling the flavours together without puking. “You’re missing out.”

“Very happy to miss out on that, thank you very much. I’ll take the ketchup.”

It turns out that Chicken Little isn’t so bad with Yvie and Brooke peppering in commentary as they watch, and Vanessa finds herself getting swept into the plot, as ridiculous as it is. The glass of cider that Yvie’s brought for each of them is making Vanessa feel a little more relaxed, her shoulders not as stiff anymore as she leans against the back of the couch. It’s fun to watch Brooke’s face, really, and the way she lights up while quoting the movie as it plays.

Vanessa makes a mental note to invite Brooke over to watch more movies. Better movies. Expand her palate. Chicken Little cannot be at the top of Brooke’s movie pyramid, not when there are better choices available, like Pretty Woman. Sure, Vanessa’s not exactly a film connoisseur herself, but still. Anything beats Chicken Little, right?

Maybe it’s just the cider settling in, maybe it’s the full stomach of chicken nuggets, but...it’s nice. Comfortable. Vanessa pulls her feet up behind her on the couch before grabbing a throw pillow to hug on her lap, and really, she could fall asleep right where she’s sitting, even to the dulcet tones of the main chicken character screaming about an alien invasion. Brooke looks over as Vanessa settles herself more into the couch, her expression unreadable but then she reaches over the back of the couch, grabbing the throw blanket behind them.

“Wanna share? It’s kinda cold.”

It’s not cold and Vanessa knows it, she knows that Brooke does too, but Brooke’s face is soft and tentative and adorable and sharing a blanket with her would make the couch situation even more cozy.

Plus, she can cuddle with Brooke, because Brooke is tall and thus is a tall, comfortable cushion to lean against.

Brooke throws the blanket across both of them and Vanessa scoots closer to her so that their laps are covered, the fabric fuzzy and warm. The side of Vanessa’s upper thigh leans against Brooke’s and she’s not sure why she’s so hyper aware of the fact, or why Brooke’s arm across the back of the couch makes her want to snuggle in even closer.

It’s just Brooke, after all. Brooke, who’s seen her when she’s all sweaty and about to collapse on the gym floor. Brooke, who had been there at her worst after the last tournament and still wants to coach her and spend time with her. Brooke, whose secret love for Twilight will never fail to make Vanessa laugh.

If it’s just Brooke, then why is Vanessa’s heart taking flight in her chest when Brooke starts to absentmindedly trace patterns on her palm? She doesn’t know why Brooke’s touch is lighting up a pattern of sparks on her skin either, or why Brooke’s side is so comfortable to lean against. Why Vanessa almost wishes that the movie could go on forever, so that she can stay warm and safe under Brooke’s arm that’s now draped across her shoulders.

Maybe Vanessa doesn’t need answers for all of those questions, not yet, not if finding out the answers would mean disrupting the delicate balance that hangs in the air between them. Brooke shuffles a little bit and when Vanessa’s head ends up against her chest, she can feel the way Brooke’s heart is beating, surely faster than any heart should. It’s a contrast from how seemingly relaxed the rest of Brooke’s body is, how her arms around Vanessa aren’t tense, restricting, but rather grounding, pulling her down.

Leaning back against Brooke is warm, familiar. It’s a feeling of home in a situation so novel, so different from how they usually are, like pulling on a sweater that Vanessa’s not sure how she’s ever lived without. Maybe, just maybe, Vanessa doesn’t ever have to take it off.

Vanessa doesn’t realize that the credits start rolling on the screen until Yvie rolls off of the lilac armchair, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. She lets out a yawn, stretching her arms up high before shutting off the TV. “I, for one, am exhausted. And as fun as this was, it’s my bedtime.”

Brooke snickers, and Vanessa can feel the way her chest reverberates underneath her. “You and I both know you’re about to go Facetime Scarlet.”

“That’s what bedtime means,” Yvie wiggles her eyebrows, and Brooke’s noise of disgust is immediate.

“Horrifying. You two better keep it down this time. My ears still haven’t recovered from overhearing you both last week,” Brooke shudders as Yvie cackles, shutting the door to her bedroom with a click.

Vanessa turns in Brooke’s grip, shooting a questioning look. Surely Yvie can’t be louder than the average person on Facetime. “Overhearing what?”

Brooke makes a face, the haunted look in her eyes almost comedic from the way that she sighs. “Let me put it this way. Yvie and her girlfriend are in a long distance relationship, which is hard on them for a multitude of reasons. One of them being their libidos.”

“Their libidos…” Vanessa trails off, her face falling when she realizes what Brooke means. “Oh no. Not that. Tell me not that.”

“Exactly that. They’re quieter over Facetime than they are when Scarlet visits, at least. That’s a blessing.”

Vanessa shudders. Sure, she’s not exactly quiet in bed either, but the thought of people on the other side of the wall being able to hear everything is horrifying, especially because of the fact that she lives with Alexis. Her sister does not need to know details about her sex life, that’s for sure.

Still, Vanessa wonders how loud Yvie must be. “How do they even make so much noise with phone sex, anyway? Yodel?”

“Mating calls that would fit in perfectly in a National Geographic documentary,” Brooke lets out a snicker, her hand clapping over her mouth when Yvie lets out an ‘I heard that!’ from behind her bedroom door. “Still, glad I’m not about to suffer through overhearing it alone. You’ve saved my evening.”

Vanessa snorts, pulling back from Brooke’s embrace to face her, leaning against the back of the couch. “Glad to be of service.”

Brooke is softness and kindness and contentment all at once, and the easy smile on her face is one that Vanessa feels so lucky to see the longer and longer that she knows her. It’s moments like these that Vanessa wants to hold on to forever - when Brooke’s guard is down, when her posture is relaxed and she’s looking over with eyes that Vanessa could drown in. She wants to package up this version of Brooke that isn’t tethered by reminders of her past, or with upholding a legacy that defines her whether she likes it or not. At times like this, Brooke isn’t a boxer with her father’s last name, or Vanessa’s coach responsible for facilitating her success. She’s just Brooke, a girl whose gaze is so mesmerizing that makes Vanessa’s breathing hitch in her throat without even realizing it.

Brooke holds out a hand and it’s almost second nature for Vanessa to link her fingers with hers, their hands fitting together in a way that doesn’t make sense, not when Vanessa’s hands are so much smaller. But Brooke’s grip is an anchor that keeps her from floating away, one that centers her and lets her focus on the upward curve of Brooke’s lips, the softness of her eyes when she smiles.

Except then Brooke’s brow is furrowing, a hint of concern in her eyes that Vanessa wants to brush away for her. “You okay? You’re quieter than usual.”

Vanessa can feel her face heating up as she stutters, pulling her eyes away from Brooke’s face to focus on the stitching along the couch cushions. “I’m fine. I...nothing.”

She can’t exactly go out and tell Brooke, someone who’s a coach and also a friend for that matter, that she’s just a little bit mesmerized by her face. Not something that’s likely to go over well.

Vanessa’s past relationships have been nothing short of peacocking, making herself known to those she’s had an interest in because they’d inevitably chase her right back. She knows her worth, knows how to go after what she wants, but…

What does she even want, now?

She doesn’t want Brooke, she can’t, not when Brooke is her coach and someone who’s becoming more and more important towards every aspect of her life, someone who she texts when she wakes up in the morning and who she’s messaging as she’s falling asleep.

Brooke’s not the type of person that Vanessa can parade around and go on a few dates with while drinking the cheapest wine on the menu for shits and giggles. She’s not someone that Vanessa can let go of easily, the way she’s had to with previous relationships that didn’t work out. Brooke is different from them.

She’s not disposable, not someone that Vanessa wants to let go of from her life. She isn’t someone that Vanessa can let go of at this point, because the thought of not seeing her amused expressions in the gym or the pride on her face while they’re training is too much to deal with. Vanessa’s only beginning to read through Brooke’s pages to learn more about her, and finding out little details that make her want to melt and pull Brooke just a little closer to her heart.

Brooke is too important.

Sure, Vanessa’s breath hitches in her chest whenever Brooke pulls her closer, and maybe Brooke’s smile is enough to drown out any background noise buzzing around them, but Vanessa also knows that she falls hard. And fast. She’s impulsive, following what her heart tells her to do and most of the time, she can deal with the consequences because she knows she’ll be able to get back up again.

But if this is a miscalculation? If saying something means that they’ll end up in pieces that neither of them will be able to put back together?

It’s too big of a risk. At least, for now.

Vanessa can’t be the one to take the jump off the cliff, not yet.

So she smiles, puts on the most reassuring expression that she can, hoping that it’s enough to soothe the concern that splays itself across Brooke’s features. “Really, I am. Just thinking about all the press shenanigans that Detox has lined up for me tomorrow.”

It’s enough for Brooke’s features to relax just a little bit, the smile on her face almost nostalgic. “I’m glad it’s you now, and not me, on Detox’s receiving end. She’s ruthless in the best way.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

There’s a sinking feeling in Vanessa’s chest by going for the cop out, but...she has no other choice. It’s not the way she normally handles situations like this, a fact made clear by how much she has to push down the butterflies in her stomach, and hide them behind a door so that they don’t escape and ruin stakes that feel too high, too much of a risk.

Still, Vanessa’s a bit of a sucker for punishment, and so when Brooke pulls her closer into a hug, it’s as easy as breathing to snuggle into her and rest her head against her chest, because Brooke’s arms are warm and safe and manage to slow her thinking down just a bit.

Part of Vanessa feels like she can handle it and hold herself back from doing anything stupid, if only to not mess everything up. She can be this close to Brooke and not have her chest split in two and maybe it’s a blessing, and something that she has to hold on to. Except that by leaning against Brooke, she can feel how fast Brooke’s heart is beating, threatening to escape from her chest before she can possibly stop it. It’s a contrast from the gentle way that Brooke’s fingers run through her hair, betraying the calmness on the outside that she’s trying so hard to convey.

Maybe Vanessa’s not the only one holding back. Maybe Brooke also feels it, maybe she’s also teetering on the bridge that Vanessa’s trying her best not to lose her footing on, and the thought gives Vanessa pause for a second, because maybe the risk is one they can manage, something they can work with...

No. No.

They can’t.

Not if it would lead to everything falling to pieces around them, not if it would mean no more training and no more Brooke in general. Because that’s how relationships always seem to end, don’t they?

As much as Vanessa has always wanted the romantic movie ending and a kiss in the rain, it hasn’t happened to her yet, much to her teenage self’s disappointment. There’s too much on the line to see if Brooke will be the one to veer her onto a different path and change the outcome.

So, Vanessa has to be happy with what she’s getting now, this friendship with Brooke and the coaching and accept it for all that it’s worth. Because Brooke’s important, maybe the most important person in Vanessa’s life and she has to take what she gets.

She’s lucky enough to have it in the first place, after all.

[luminescencefics]

(there is) no time like the present

On his way towards the rest of their friends in the booth by the back of the pub, Niall finally spots Aisling’s auburn hair and glittery dress standing near the wooden table. He’d be lying if he didn’t think she looked quite pretty. Niall’s always known Aisling to be pretty, in a way that he knows that thunder follows lightning during a storm and that the sun always shines the brightest in the summer. It was just a universal thing.

But tonight, he finds that he’s entirely hyperaware of Aisling’s prettiness.

And he isn’t quite sure what to do about that.

A (short) story about a brown-haired boy and an auburn-haired girl trying to convince the world that they aren’t lonely, and how time really isn’t of the essence.

written for the 1dff discord server fic challenge

new year’s eve // roommates trope

niall/ofc, 8k words | banner credit

11:34

In Aisling O’Leary’s twenty-eight years of living, she has known two constants. The first being, she could never say no to people. No matter how hard she tried to, she just couldn’t bring herself to disappoint the people she cared about most in her life. She blames that on her trait of always trying to please people. The second constant is that she was a settler, in every sense of the word.

She settled with her group of friends in secondary school back home in Clifden. She settled when she chose to go to university across the country in Dublin instead of taking the leap and applying to schools in her dream city of London. She settled with her marketing position at a publishing house when her dream was to be an editor. And, she settled with her last boyfriend of two years, Cormac Hayes.

When he decided to end things with her three months ago, Aisling knows that she probably should have been more upset over it. Truth is, she stayed with Cormac for that long because it was easy. He loved her at arm’s length and she was okay with that. He gave her attention and loved her the best way he knew how, and although it wasn’t enough for Aisling in the end, she sort of just let it happen. And when she didn’t even shed a tear over losing her boyfriend of two years, she wasn’t surprised in the least.

That’s just how Aisling O’Leary worked.

She tries her hardest to ignore the constant ringing of her mobile from the inside of her purse under her work desk. It was Friday afternoon and she was practically the only soul in the office because most of her other co-workers decided to take the day off to prepare for this evening’s New Year’s Eve festivities.

Aisling didn’t really think too much about it, to be honest. What did she have to celebrate this past year? The fact that she received an end of the year bonus at her job that she hasn’t enjoyed for the past four years? The fact that she’s single, once again? The fact that she’s still living with her uni mate and putting off her goal of moving to London?

She pushes those thoughts away when an image of said uni mate flashes across the screen of her mobile.

“Niall, for the love of god, please stop ringing me,” Aisling scolds, harshly whispering into the receiver. It’s really no use considering it’s just her and the unlucky intern who couldn’t get the day off, but she does it anyways for dramatic intent.

“As lovely as ever, sweet Aisling,” Niall starts, the sound of whooshing air in the background a bit distracting. Aisling can only assume that he’s walking around outside, the sound of the chilling winter wind blowing through the phone loudly giving him away.

“Sorry, Niall. Just, uh, busy is all.” Aisling lies and Niall doesn’t even try to fall for it. She does feel a little bad for snapping at him, because it’s really not his fault that she’s in such a shit mood. And taking it out on her uni mate turned flatmate turned best mate just wasn’t really fair.

Niall Horan crashed into Aisling’s life during her first year at University College Dublin (the word crashed used very appropriately). She was sitting towards the back of her Art History lecture, a random gen-ed requirement her advisor forced her to take. She chose the back because she assumed she wouldn’t be bothered, but then eight minutes after class began, Niall ran in with flushed cheeks and his freshly bleached blonde hair standing up all over the place. And out of all the empty seats in the entire lecture hall, he chose to sit next to Aisling.

He spent the entirety of the lecture fidgeting in the plastic seat next to Aisling, looking over her shoulder at the notes she was scribbling down aggressively. He didn't even bother to bring a notebook, let alone a pen, to the lecture. Normally, Aisling would find that infuriating. But when it comes to Niall, Aisling has found that most of the things that should bother her just, well, don’t.

“I’m walking into the shops. Everyone’s been texting like mad about tonight, driving me up the fuckin’ wall. Did you put the group chat on mute again?” Niall asks and Aisling doesn’t even bother answering, because of course she did.

It’s not that she didn’t like her uni mates, because they really were the best friends Aisling has ever had. But when they decided amongst themselves that her and Niall’s flat would be the destination for pre-drinks tonight, conveniently leaving Aisling and Niall out of the conversation altogether, she couldn’t help but grow increasingly annoyed.

But in typical Aisling fashion, she just let it happen. She blames it on that first constant of hers.

“Just while I was working. Didn’t want to be distracted,” Aisling decides to say, pausing as she hears the sound of an automatic door opening and closing on Niall’s end. She knows he’s probably completely aware that she’s not that excited about tonight. But in typical Niall fashion, he tries to find the silver lining in every situation—even if he is feeling equally as shitty about this evening.

“Well, you’re probably the only person in all of Ireland working today,” Niall says, a chuckle added at the end to let Aisling know that he’s just messing with her.

“That’s not true. Sean’s here with me, having the time of his life.” Aisling watches the office intern sit at his desk with his head in his hands, clearly hungover and annoyed that he got stuck working the day of New Year’s Eve. She feels a bit bad for the lad, empathetic to his cause.

Niall agrees. “What’re we drinking tonight, Aisling? How ossified do we feel like getting, scale of one to ten?”

Aisling sighs. She knows getting drunk off her arse tonight is probably not the best move to make. But then she starts to think of her friends and how they seem a lot more bearable after a few drinks. She starts to think about the past three months of her life and how she feels like she’s just taking up space. She starts to think about the last phone call she had with her mam, and how she’s suddenly begun to worry about her oldest daughter. She starts to think about her future, and how she’s not really excited about it at all, to be fair.

The more she thinks about it, the more getting completely plastered sounds better and better in her head.

“Whiskey. Lots of it,” Aisling replies, sure and assertive.

“There’s my girl,” Niall says, and she can practically hear the glass bottles being added to the shopping trolley. “I’ll see you when you get home. Let’s just try and have fun tonight, yeah? Forget about all the bullshit.”

Aisling agrees to try her hardest to do that for Niall. But she’s got enough bullshit going on in her life to hold anybody down, and if she’s going to try and get over it, she’s going to need a lot of whiskey to do that.

And some courage—lots of it.

14:08

In Niall Horan’s twenty-eight years of living, he’s known two constants. The first being, he puts too much trust in other people, not nearly guarding his heart the way he should. He’s always fallen too quickly and too harshly, never really thinking of the repercussions. The second constant being that he was always blissfully one step behind everybody else, overlooking hidden clues and secret hints, not really understanding the longing look in another person’s eyes, or why their cheeks heat up around somebody’s presence. He wouldn’t blame that on selfishness, per se, rather, naiveté. If it wasn’t hitting Niall right in the face, chances are he completely missed it.

He’s thinking about his unguarded heart while lining up the various liquor bottles he bought at the shops a few hours ago, creating a makeshift bar on the kitchen countertop. His mind briefly falls to Sheridan, as it does most times when he’s feeling a bit lonely. He thinks about her blonde hair and turquoise eyes and warm pale skin. How she was the most important thing in his life on and off for five years. How he loved her with everything inside of him, and he figured that would be enough.

But then she gets a job offer a world away in America, and she takes it without even looking back. Without even considering how it would affect Niall. Without even including him in the conversation.

He wonders if she’s always been selfish with his heart.

Niall tries his hardest to not think about it. She left Ireland almost nine months ago, and he really has been doing better. He wants nothing more than to forget about this year. It was one filled with heartbreak and anger and pain, and the idea of drinking his sorrows away to start over again is exactly what he needed.

But there’s no denying that Niall Horan is admittedly lonely.

He thinks of Aisling, and how she seems just as lost as he is most of the time. Back in uni she was always the rational one between the pair, always taking notes and showing up to class and making sure that Niall kept his head on straight. When he meets Sheridan at the end of their first year, he remembers instantly thinking that she was the one for him. He blames it on that first constant of his.

Sheridan Walsh was beautiful and rich and, admittedly, so far out of Niall’s league the second he met her at a mutual friend’s house party. She was studying linguistics at Trinity as a hobby, a job at her parent’s enormous investment bank already secured. Her family had an expansive estate in Killiney overlooking Dalkey Island and Niall did everything he could to try and fit into her world.

When he meets her he charms her instantly, and the second he realizes that she was in a different social class than his own, Niall runs into Aisling’s dorm room and begs her to strip the bleach from his hair. He spends Years Two and Three doing everything he can to impress Sheridan, and finally one night she gives in, and he feels as if he’s floating through thin air.

To this day, Niall still isn’t sure what it was about him that made Sheridan finally agree to start dating him. She didn’t approve of his course of study, she found his hometown of Mullingar to be quaint, and she never really understood why he decided to live with Aisling in their too-small flat.

If there’s one thing Niall can appreciate most about his friendship with Aisling (and there’s a lot to be thankful for, to be fair) it’s that she tried her hardest to be nice to Sheridan, even though there would never be a world where the two of them would ever be friends. Aisling showed Niall how to properly knot a tie to prepare him for meeting Sheridan’s parents, she explained to him the difference between an oyster fork and a salad fork whenever he had to go to fancy dinner parties, and she constantly reminded him that he shouldn’t try as hard to fit into Sheridan’s world, because she loved him just the way he was.

If only it were true in the end.

In reality, Niall has a lot to be thankful for when it comes to Aisling O’Leary. He just hopes that he purchased enough whiskey to try and make her enjoy herself for the first time in three months.

17:41

Normally it takes Aisling twenty minutes to get home from her office near O’Connell Street to her and Niall’s shared flat in Ranelagh. But she’s stalling, walking along the River Liffey in the brisk evening weather instead of getting on the bus to start getting ready for tonight.

Niall knows this, as he’s grown accustomed to Aisling whipping open the front door twenty minutes after five, complaining about the crammed rush hour commute while untying her boots and throwing her scarf haphazardly over their wobbly coat hanger. He’s currently watching the clock change from the half hour mark almost nearing quarter to six, debating if he should ring her or not.

As if reading his mind, Aisling shoots Niall a text, assuring him that she’s not avoiding their mates (lie) and that she isn’t contemplating ditching this evening’s festivities (lie) and that she’s stopping at the nearest shop to grab snacks for their friends (half-lie turned truth). Niall doesn’t bother telling her that their friends already agreed to bring food over, because he knows Aisling better than she knows herself sometimes. Instead, he writes, Do what you need to do, A. I’ve got a drink waiting for you when you get home xx, and Aisling starts to feel a bit more at ease.

It’s near six when Aisling appears with a shopping bag filled with crackers and the nicest assortment of cheese she could find last minute. Niall can hear her usual foot pattern by the front door while he starts pouring the two of them whiskey neats in the nice glasses Sheridan re-gifted him two Christmases ago.

“Sorry I was late. The shops were brutal, too many people banging about. Couldn’t even find the good cheese Cara likes,” Aisling says, entering the kitchen with a smile headed in Niall’s direction. He watches as she starts putting the items into the fridge and respective cupboards, avoiding making eye contact.

“If you turned your mobile on every now and then, you’d have seen that Cara and Robbie already got food for tonight,” Niall says, sliding Aisling’s drink across the kitchen counter.

Aisling gives Niall a sheepish look. “Right. I was just—”

“—Busy.” Niall gives Aisling a look she knows all too well, and she immediately feels guilty, slumping down in the chair across from him. “Your mam rang me earlier. Was wondering why her lovely daughter wasn’t answering her calls.”

Aisling chuckles softly, bringing the glass to her lips. “Ah, of course she did. Sometimes I think she rings you because she likes you a bit too much.”

“What can I say? Mam’s love me—especially yours,” Niall says with a grin, puffing his chest out a bit.

Aisling snorts. “Did she say anything of interest this time ‘round?”

“Just went on about how your da can’t find a proper barmaid for tonight,” Niall says, the mention of Aisling’s family’s pub in Clifden bringing a nostalgic smile to her face. “She might have also mentioned that she’s worried about you.”

Aisling frowns. “Worried?”

Niall nods cautiously. “Yeah. She thinks you're lonely.”

Aisling pauses for a moment, watching the amber liquid inside her cup slosh with each swivel of the glass on the countertop. She really hates that word—lonely. To Aisling, loneliness implies the absence of something. How can she miss a feeling she’s never even truly felt in the first place? The only thing Aisling has felt for the past few years has been complacency. And that’s one she’d love to shed with the new year.

“Well, she’s nothing to worry about. ‘M not lonely,” Aisling mumbles, downing the rest of her drink with one large gulp.

Niall cocks an eyebrow in her direction. “That’s exactly what a lonely person would say.”

It’s one of those rare moments when Aisling can’t tell if Niall is taking the piss or genuinely concerned. But with one look in his blue eyes, Aisling decides to go with the latter.

“I promise you, Niall, I’m not lonely. It’s been three months. I barely even think about Cormac anymore, so quit your worrying,” Aisling counters, beginning to pour herself another glass, this time a bit shorter.

“You never even thought about him to begin with,” Niall quips, finishing his drink as well. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

Aisling doesn’t really know how to answer that, because there’s no denying that Niall is absolutely correct. She just isn’t quite sure how to explain to her best mate that she never truly felt heartbreak in the same capacity that he did. Cormac ending things with Aisling did not shatter her heart the same way that Sheridan did to Niall’s.

Aisling starts to wonder if there’s something wrong with this so-called heart of hers.

“I think I saw it coming before it actually happened, ya know?” Aisling begins to explain. “I think I knew Cormac wasn’t the one for me. It made the blow less harsh, in a way.” It’s a version of the truth that both Niall and Aisling can settle on. And she can tell that he’s understanding as he nods through his final swallow of whiskey.

“Just want you to be happy, is all,” Niall says, placing his empty glass on the countertop. “It’s the beauty of New Years, my sweet Aisling. You can start fresh.”

Aisling just smiles, finishing her glass as well. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

And this time, she truly hopes he is.

19:22

Aisling is starting to think that it’s far too early for her friends to be this inebriated.

It’s barely half past seven and her friends had started to arrive nearly an hour earlier. After her unsettling conversation with Niall, Aisling resorted to locking herself in her bedroom with the excuse of getting ready. Instead, she sat in the shower for far too long until the hot water turned cold, building up the courage to just try and let loose for one fucking night.

The second she hears Cara and Robbie enter the flat, Aisling immediately fights the urge to down another whiskey neat.

There was a time when Aisling believed that Cara and Robbie would be the first pair out of their uni group to get married. They had been together ever since Aisling lived next door to Cara in the dorms during her first year at UCD. And while everybody else had seemingly tried to grow up during the past seven years, Cara and Robbie seemed content in their post-uni bubble.

Aisling was pretty sure that bubble should have been popped some time after their twenty-fifth birthdays.

“Oi! Aisy! Pass me a fresh Smithwick while you’re at it!” Conor hollers over from the small loveseat in the living room when he notices Aisling heading towards the fridge for a new drink.

She nods, biting her tongue at the ridiculous nickname that he hasn’t stopped calling her since Year Two. Aisling’s just happy he isn’t calling her feek anymore.

If Aisling had the choice, she would never have had Conor worm his way into the inner-workings of their unusual friend group. But alas, Conor came along with Niall, and if Aisling wanted to keep Niall in her life (which she very much would like to), then she had to suck it up and deal with his unruly best mate.

Aisling passes Conor the freshly opened bottle of beer, smiling politely at the pretty brown-haired girl seated to his right. According to Niall, Conor’s been bringing her along to their group pub outings for a few weeks now. Aisling promised to remember her name if she stuck around for another month. Conor had a bad habit of flying through girls, and it became harder with each new face to remember their names.

Aisling heads back into the kitchen to start preparing the cheeseboard, watching in her periphery as a long slender red-painted finger reaches out to snatch a stray cracker hanging off the side of the tray.

“Wait your turn like everybody else, Han,” Aisling scolds, ignoring the snicker her friend makes in between bites of the cracker.

“Sorry mum, you know how I get if I don’t eat something before drinking,” Hannah says, her Scouse accent already beginning to muddle together. Aisling does her best to keep her eye roll to herself.

“It’s too early for you to be slurring. Lay off the drink until we get to the pub, okay?” Aisling responds, reaching out to grab the half-finished vodka tonic in Hannah’s shaky hands. She tosses it aside, hopefully long forgotten by the time Hannah finishes eating something.

She watches Hannah nod her head agreeably, before sneaking another cracker off of the plate. This time, Aisling doesn’t scold her.

“I’m sorry you’re ringing in the New Year all by yourself,” Hannah says after Aisling has a sip of her drink. “Shite being alone, innit?”

There’s that word again. Alone. Aisling shrugs half-heartedly even though she doesn’t really agree with Hannah’s logic. Even if she tried to explain it to her, she knows she wouldn’t understand it. While Hannah’s been a great friend to Aisling over the years, she’s admittedly been quite selfish. Therefore, Aisling tries not to burden her with matters of the heart.

Niall overhears the conversation when he walks into the kitchen with Hannah’s boyfriend Rory, and immediately he starts to feel a bit guilty.

Aisling and Cormac would never have met if it weren’t for Niall. They both played together in Niall's men’s league for footie, and he thought that they would be a good match together. So when he gave Cormac his flatmate’s number one night after practice and a week later they went out to dinner, Niall really believed that he did Aisling a solid.

Now though, he feels a bit shitty.

“What’re you two gossiping about?” Rory asks, slinging an arm over Hannah’s pointy shoulders, unaware of the awkward tension left hanging in the kitchen from Hannah’s previous comment.

“Nothing, babe. Just sad that Aisling won’t have a New Year’s kiss,” Hannah says, the backhanded dig flying completely over her head. Aisling feels it though, and so does Niall, who immediately steps in.

“Keep drinkin’ like that Hannah and you might not make it to midnight for a kiss this year either.” The lightness of his tone makes it seem to Hannah and Rory that he’s just joking with them, but Aisling knows Niall, and she can hear the undercurrent of frustration laced between his words. So when she lifts her head up and looks at him and already finds that he’s staring right back at her, she smiles a bit, mouthing a quick thank you in his direction.

Sometimes, she’s really lucky to have a friend like Niall.

21:43

Niall slams down his second shot of whiskey since entering the pub nearly thirty minutes ago, and he’s finally starting to feel that type of drunkenness where everything seems a bit lighter and everybody seems a lot happier. They’ve chosen a pub in Parnell Square in favor over the crowded pubs in the Temple Bar area, and he’s happy with their choice considering the pub is filled with twenty-somethings instead of the usual younger, rowdier crowd.

After the incident in the kitchen, Niall finds himself keeping a closer watch on Aisling. While he knows the past few months have been quite hard on her, he didn’t realize how apathetic some of their mates were. He also didn’t notice how sad it made her.

He wonders if she’s always felt like this, and he’s always just been too wrapped up in his own sadness to notice her own.

Regretfully, he blames that second constant of his.

“Oi, Horan! Drink up!” Conor yells over from his left, another shot of whiskey waiting for him on the bartop. Niall tears his eyes away from Aisling, instead focusing on the overflowing shot glass in front of him. He gulps, already mentally preparing to slow down in order to keep his wits about him until midnight approaches.

Niall shoots the drink back, slamming the glass onto the sticky bartop and wiping the back of his hand over his lips. He can hear Conor cackling beside him, and he tries to ignore the elbow digging into his ribcage. He tries to find Aisling’s wavy auburn hair through the crowd, or even her sparkly long-sleeved dress, but it’s no use. She’s too far out of his view.

“Are you lookin’ to pull?” Conor asks smugly after noticing Niall’s gaze flittering over the other side of the pub.

“Nah mate. Not tonight,” Niall replies, the thought of pulling a random girl for the night sounding entirely unappealing.

Conor turns towards his friend, putting his back to his pretty date. “Niall, tonight’s the perfect night for a random lay. C’mon mate, it’s New Years! Every single bird here is looking for an easy shag. It’s been months anyways, what’re you waiting for? Sheri’s not comin’ back.”

Niall tries his hardest not to flinch at his friend’s words. He knows deep down that if he really wanted to sleep with a random girl for the night, he could. And earlier, he probably would have done just that to cure his loneliness. But now the thought of doing just that sort of makes his skin crawl a little.

Including the fact that he can’t stop trying to find his flatmate in the crowded pub. But he’s not quite sure what that means.

“Fuck off Conor. I know she’s not coming back.” Niall’s annoyed that his friend decided to bring Sheridan up. He just wishes everybody would stop fucking bringing her up.

Conor just shrugs. “Then why aren’t you lookin’ for an easy lay?”

Niall’s grip on his whiskey coke is so tight that his knuckles turn white. He grits his teeth before taking a long sip, before giving his stupid friend one last annoyed look. “Because sex isn’t the answer to everything.” And with that, Niall walks away.

“It sure helps though, prick!” Conor shouts from his place at the bar, and Niall just shakes his head, ignoring him.

On his way towards the rest of their friends in the booth by the back of the pub, Niall finally spots Aisling’s auburn hair and glittery dress standing near the wooden table. He’d be lying if he didn’t think she looked quite pretty. Niall’s always known Aisling to be pretty, in a way that he knows that thunder follows lightning during a storm and that the sun always shines the brightest in the summer. It was just a universal thing.

But tonight, he finds that he’s entirely hyperaware of Aisling’s prettiness.

He’s watching the way her head falls back when a loud laugh rips through her lungs, her long auburn hair falling past her shoulders, catching the dim pub lighting in a way that stops Niall dead in his tracks. The sparkles in her shift dress glitter with every bend of her knees or swivel of her hips, and Niall tries his hardest to keep his eyes off of Aisling’s lower half. Her eyes have that glow to them that only happens when she feels totally comfortable, and he’s wondering if it’s genuine or if the liquor is helping mask her unease surrounding tonight.

Before he’s caught, Niall pulls himself together and approaches the group.

“Niall!” Aisling squeals once he’s entered the small half-huddle the girls in the group have formed. She’s leaning in, a bit unsteady on her chunky heels, and Niall can feel the whiskey warmth of her breath fan over his cheeks. She’s definitely drunk, Niall thinks, securing an arm around her middle so Aisling doesn’t end up arse over tit on the dirty pub floor.

“Somebody’s havin’ fun,” Niall pushes through a grin, his arms tightening around her waist once Aisling presses two small hands on his shoulders to steady herself. She giggles and it sounds like the prettiest song he’s ever heard.

“Wasn’t it you who told me to drink away all the bullshit?” Aisling asks, finishing the rest of her drink, her head falling back on her neck dramatically as she swallows. Niall chuckles, grabbing the empty glass from her shaky fingers before it slips and cracks on the floor.

“Might’ve. But slow your roll, sweet Aisling. Still three hours left until midnight,” Niall tuts, smiling a bit when she huffs out in disappointment, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. He finds it incredibly adorable.

“Don’t leave me alone with these eejits then! They’re the ones forcing drinks down me throat!” Aisling calls out, pointing a skinny finger towards Cara and Robbie who look responsible. Her Western accent grows much stronger with each level of intoxication Aisling passes, and Niall knows that if she continues he’s going to start struggling piecing together what she’s trying to say.

So he laughs, removing his arm around her waist and throwing it around her shoulders instead, pulling her closer to his chest so that his chin rests above the crown of her head.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got ya,” Niall says, and Aisling smiles back, squeezing his hand that dangles in front of her chest tightly in thanks.

Niall squeezes back, thinking that if he had to spend the next three hours with her, he wouldn’t mind at all. He especially wouldn’t mind it if Aisling was still tucked under his arm once midnight struck.

23:38

Aisling has spent the last twenty minutes holding Cara’s curly hair back while she retches into the toilet. She stopped drinking about an hour ago once she noticed the pallor beneath Cara’s copper skin, knowing it was only a matter of time until she grew sick.

And just like clockwork, with an hour to go until midnight, Cara grabbed Aisling with shaky hands and dragged her to the toilet before vomiting into the porcelain basin below. Aisling rubs her friend’s back, wrapping her curly hair around her wrists to make sure the coiled tendrils stay vomit-free.

She wishes the night didn’t have to end like this.

But it seems to always happen whenever she’s around Cara. As much as Aisling loves her, she can’t help but wonder if this is how it’ll always be with her friend. She wonders when she’ll finally just grow up.

Once again, Aisling has to give up her night in order to make sure Cara’s isn’t ruined.

Cara moans under her and Aisling snaps out of her miserable state, asking her friend if she was okay and if she needed anything. Cara shakes her head, albeit still unsteady on her feet as she slowly hobbles over towards the sink. Aisling sighs for what feels like the hundredth time, wishing her friend would stop being so stubborn.

Before they leave the toilets, Aisling dampens some paper towels and blots it over Cara’s sticky forehead. Her friend swats at her wrists angrily, snatching the wet paper towels from Aisling’s hands and throwing it into the rubbish bin.

“‘M wearing foundation Aisling! Christ, yer gonna fuck it up!” Cara scolds, walking past her friend and fixing what’s left of her mangled curls into a topknot.

Aisling just frowns, wishing her friend would be a bit kinder to her considering she did just spend the better part of her evening holding her hair back and listening to her retch into a shitty public toilet.

“Sorry,” Aisling mumbles, because she knows she could never yell at her friend no matter how angry she makes her. Aisling would rather not rock the boat, so instead she just lets Cara take out her frustrations on her. She’s been doing it for the past seven years anyways, why stop now?

Cara says nothing. Instead, she irons out her black dress with her hands and leaves the toilets, heading towards their group of friends in the back of the pub. Aisling watches her go, taking a few seconds to herself to just breathe.

If Aisling were a different person, she probably would have told Cara off for acting like a Grade A Bitch. She would tell her to stop being so selfish, to stop making everything about her, to stop acting like such a fucking child.

But Aisling is not that person.

So instead she shakes those words from her head, focusing on regulating her breathing and making sure the redness in her cheeks goes away. She wishes she was the same level of drunkenness she happened to be a few hours ago, where everything seemed a bit more bearable and she wasn’t focusing on the shittier parts of her friendships.

When she emerges from the hallway, she spots Niall immediately. She’s found that he’s always standing a bit closer to her than normal, always making sure she’s okay and that she’s enjoying herself. She’s grateful for it, if she’s being honest, because out of everybody in this crowded pub, she’s happy that it’s Niall who’s standing by her side.

She watches as his brown hair flops over his forehead, hanging around his face in a messy boyish way. He looks handsome with his white button down shirt tucked into his navy blue houndstooth dress pants. When he turns a bit so he can laugh at whatever obscene joke Conor just made, she can see the way the shirtsleeves tighten around his flexed bicep, and the way his waist looks thinner when he swivels his hip, and the way his arse arches in his new pants.

Aisling is immediately transported back to a time when every movement Niall made would make her blush uncontrollably. When his hair was blonder and his laugh was louder and he wasn’t as muscley—when he would barge into her dorm room at all hours of the day and show up at Aisling’s library table and doodle notes and scribbles on her coursework. When she found herself crushing on her first ever real uni mate, when she tried her hardest to ignore it, until it ultimately faded as the years passed on.

But sometimes, in moments like this, the feelings would shoot straight into her chest like a lightning strike, and she finds herself struggling for air. It usually happened in fleeting moments—typically when he laughed so hard his blue eyes scrunched, or he held her really tightly whenever she had a bad day, and especially when he called her sweet Aisling.

And just like that, the moment is gone, leaving just as quickly as it came. As if noticing her absence (something that he’s been doing a lot of tonight), blue eyes meet hazel and he cocks his head in concern, the silent question of Are you okay? floating through the air until it stops right in Aisling’s path.

She nods her head and it’s entirely unconvincing. But before Niall could leave their friends and approach Aisling, she gestures towards the bar with a small smile, insinuating she was going to grab a new drink. Niall just nods, staring at her as she approaches the bartop.

As soon as she feels the heat of his gaze leave her back, Aisling orders a water. Suddenly, she doesn’t want to be here anymore, the dreaded feelings she had earlier in the day flooding her insides without warning. She doesn’t give a fuck about midnight anymore, doesn’t give a fuck about watching her mates cheers to the start of a new year.

She just wants to leave.

23:55

Niall turns away from his conversation with Conor, wondering why Aisling hasn’t returned to their spot in the back of the pub. He watched her head towards the bar almost ten minutes ago, and he’s not quite sure if there’s something wrong.

He’s reminded back to the lifeless look in her eyes when she left the toilets with Cara moments ago, and he instantly feels his stomach drop a little at the thought of something bad happening to her. Did they get into a fight? Did Cara say something to upset her? Where the fuck is she?

“Cara, where’s Aisling?” Niall asks, leaning into her ear to talk over the loud music. He cranes his neck towards the bar where he last saw her, and finds that her auburn hair is no longer in view.

Cara shrugs her shoulders, looking less than interested in this conversation. “Dunno, mate. Fucked off in the jacks ‘coupla minutes ago.” Niall scrunches his nose at the lingering smell of bile on her breath.

“What’d you do?” Niall knows that his tone is a bit accusatory, but he feels like an idiot for not realizing that Aisling was upset sooner. He’s instantly brought back to the kitchen when Hannah hurt her feelings, and Niall’s left wondering if he’s as much of a prick as their friends have been lately.

“Oh, fuck off Niall,” Cara starts, laughing even though it’s not funny. “Did nothin’! She probably just doesn’t wanna be ‘ere durin’ midnight ‘cos she’s single and all.”

Niall knows that isn’t true. He also knows that if Cara had asked Aisling herself, she would know that Aisling could give less of a shit about being single.

Niall’s suddenly left with the unwavering thought that maybe nobody has asked Aisling how she’s truly felt in a long time.

Before he can reply, he notices the countdown start to begin, and suddenly he doesn't want to be around his friends at all.

He wants to find Aisling.

23:59

Aisling can hear the ten second countdown from her spot outside the pub, leaning against the cold brick wall, cooling her down from the inside out. Her winter coat is still clenched in her right hand, the heat of her anger keeping her warm against the evening breeze.

Her eyes are closed tight and she’s trying her hardest not to cry. Aisling knows it’s stupid—crying over her friends who didn’t even spare her a second glance when she stormed out of the pub door. She doesn’t want to blame them, because even though they can be selfish and unaware of her sadness, Aisling has let it slide for far too long. She’s starting to think that her friends have grown accustomed to her knack of shrugging things off her shoulder, and she really only has herself to blame.

Aisling sighs as she hears the countdown end, the sounds of celebration reverberating through the thick brick. She’s ringing in this new year alone, as it seems, and she wonders if she’s part to blame for it.

She wonders why she’s never spoken up when her friends overlook her feelings and say hurtful things about her. Aisling knows that they aren’t intentional, and that her friends don’t truly mean to hurt her feelings, but part of her wishes they would just understand.

She wonders why she’s never been bold enough to go after the job she actually wanted. Why she stays working her shitty desk job day after day, losing interest in everything around her. Why she never acted on that job listing she received an email from in London, why she never even tried to move there in the first place.

She wonders why she’s wasted so much time trying to find love in boys who can never offer her what she truly needs. Why even though Cormac was a sound lad, she knew he wasn’t right for her, but the thought of leaving him was much more difficult than staying, so she chose the easier option.

Aisling wishes she was the type of person to speak up, to act on what she wants, to simply be better.

But she isn’t.

So she sinks down to the cool pavement below her, her neck stretched upwards as her head rests on the brick wall. Her eyes are still closed shut, and she thinks that if she keeps them closed, she can squeeze out the girl she so badly wants to get rid of.

She thinks that when she opens her eyes again, she’ll be a new person. The person she wants to be.

00:03

Niall finally finds Aisling outside, her head resting against the wall upturned towards the night sky. Her eyes are closed and Niall’s eyes are trained on her long ivory neck, and he wonders what would have happened if he came out here just as the clock struck midnight.

He shakes that thought from his head, because she looks so small. So unsure. So sad.

Aisling doesn’t look at Niall until he’s sitting near her with his warm hand resting on her bent knee. He’s looking at her as her eyes flutter open, hazel eyes glassy from the tears threatening to fall. He knows Aisling though—knows her so well that she won’t let them fall, no matter how badly she wants to.

She offers Niall a weak smile, and he’s sitting close enough that he can see her bottom lip wobble. It makes him angry.

“Ready to get out of here?” Niall asks softly, ignoring the millions of other questions he wants to ask her. He knows how fragile she is. How adamant she is about not explaining her feelings, so he takes the easy way out even though it kills him to do so.

Aisling smiles at him, a little stronger than before. “Please.”

Niall doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he stands up, grabbing her winter coat in one hand and her smaller hand in the other. Once she’s standing in front of him, close enough that he can feel her shaky breath on his neck, he holds open her coat and buttons her up.

“Let’s go.”

00:52

Niall and Aisling have been sitting around the kitchen island, a half-finished bottle of whiskey on the countertop between them. Aisling’s heels are discarded somewhere near the front door, her feet resting on the unoccupied stool to Niall’s left. He’s rubbing her shins in between pulls of liquor, his navy blazer thrown over the couch, the top few buttons of his crisp white shirt opened to show his patch of chest hair.

They haven’t really said much in the fifteen minutes they’ve been home. Niall knows when to bite, and he knows that getting Aisling reacquainted with whiskey will make the conversation a lot easier.

So they sit. And he jokes. And she smiles.

It’s only after Niall says something stupid that makes Aisling snort—something that should be completely unattractive to most but Niall finds it incredible endearing—that her words make Niall’s heart stop.

“God, now I remember why I had such a crush on you in uni,” Aisling says after a pull of whiskey.

Niall stops his laughing, eyes immediately going wide. “Wait, what?”

“Oi, quit being an eejit,” she says with a roll of her hazel eyes. “Don’t act surprised, everybody knew.”

But Niall can’t help it. He is surprised.

Why hadn’t anybody told him? More so, why hadn’t she told him?

Was he really the only person who didn’t know?

“Aisling, why didn’t you tell me?” Niall asks, his voice void of teasing. He’s honest and when she looks deep into his ocean eyes, Aisling realizes that she probably shouldn’t have mentioned the crush she had on him in uni seven years ago.

“I genuinely thought you knew. Christ Niall, everybody knew,” she whispers, placing the whiskey bottle back on the table separating them.

“I just—I,” Niall’s confused. And overwhelmed. And slightly angry with himself. “Just wish I knew, is all.”

“Why? It wouldn’t have changed anything, Niall. It was years ago. And you were with Sheri. It really isn’t a big deal, I shouldn’t have said anything—”

“—Don’t do that,” Niall says abruptly, cutting her off.

Aisling’s eyes widen, mirroring Niall’s. “Do what?”

Niall huffs in response, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair. “Act like your feelings don’t matter. They do. And I just—fuck, I dunno, Aisling. I just wish I fucking knew.”

“Why, what would you have done?” Aisling asks, repeating herself, half out of annoyance and half out of sheer curiosity. She truly wishes she just kept her fucking mouth shut.

“Who knows,” Niall says, grabbing the whiskey bottle for himself and pouring it down his throat. “Probably would have spared myself the heartache of dating a girl who could give less of a shit about me. But hey, the past is in the past. New year and all that. New beginnings or summat.” He holds up the bottle in a false cheers, his eyes dull and harsh.

Aisling’s replaying what he said earlier over and over in her head, watching as her best mate continues to gulp back whiskey.

Act like your feelings don’t matter.

Has she been doing that for years now? Acting like her feelings are insignificant, like everybody else’s feelings are more important than hers? Like every thought she has is just her completely overthinking everything?

She reaches out and grabs the bottle from Niall’s lips, placing it on the countertop in front of them with a gentle thud.

“It’s not that I don’t think my feelings matter,” Aisling starts, her voice a small mumble. “It’s just—nobody bothers to ask. I’m always helping everybody else with their problems, and it’s not that I don't want to, because I’d do it for anybody. I’m just different, I suppose. I keep things in, because sometimes the things I try and say are just shit, if I’m being honest. So I don’t really say anything.”

Niall sighs sadly, reaching across the countertop for Aisling’s hand instead of the whiskey bottle.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Niall starts, a sad look on his face. “I’m sorry I never bother to ask sometimes. It’s just, fuck Aisling, you’re just hard to read sometimes. And it’s so frustrating ‘cos you’re my best mate, yeah? I care about you so much.” Niall’s thumbs are brushing against Aisling’s hands and she tries her hardest not to shudder. “Hate when you keep things in. Need you to tell me, yeah?”

Aisling nods and she prays that Niall keeps his hands in hers.

“‘M sorry too, Niall. Care about you, too. Quite a bit.” Aisling is wondering if she’s imagining Niall leaning closer towards her, or if she just wants it to happen so badly that she’s conjuring it up in her own head.

Sitting across from Aisling in their tiny kitchenette, Niall wonders if he’s ever truly thought about kissing her before tonight. Sure, Aisling’s always been beautiful. And sure, she’s been one of his closest mates ever since they first moved in together. But as he sits here, watching the way her skin glows from the overhead lights, watching the way she’s slowly leaning in towards him, he’s really thinking about it.

So he leans in, too.

And he kisses her.

01:14

When they break apart, Aisling feels as if she’s on fire. Her forearms are balancing her upper body on the countertop, and Niall’s longer arms are holding her elbows tightly. Blue eyes meet hazel and their faces are so close that Aisling’s eyelashes are tickling the apples of Niall’s cheeks.

They’re breathing each other in before Aisling’s hand wraps around the back of Niall’s neck and she’s bringing his lips against hers for another searing kiss.

He reacts almost instantly, bringing one hand away from her elbow and up to her cheek, slotting his bottom lip over her top lip and holding back a groan from the back of his throat.

They break apart again, the edge of the counter digging into Aisling’s chest in an uncomfortable way. She sits back against the chair on her knees, her breathing labored and eyes blown wide. Niall’s staring at her, taking in her rosy cheeks and her messy hair, her swollen lips and huffing chest.

He thinks she’s the prettiest thing he’s seen all night. (Even though he knew that to begin with, to be fair).

So he stands up, holding an outstretched hand towards her body, giving her a boyish grin to which she returns instantly. “C’mere.”

Aisling practically jumps into his arms then, leaning her entire torso onto his with her arms wrapped securely around his neck. She can feel Niall’s forearms against the small of her back, and she’s standing on the tips of her toes in order to press her lips fully against his.

Niall squeezes against her hips and Aisling gasps, her mouth opening against his allowing him to lap his tongue against her own. It’s everything and more, and the sound exploding from the back of his throat practically causes Aisling to melt against his chest.

His hand is knotted into her hair, pulling back slightly so that she can reach his mouth. Aisling slowly starts to back Niall up against the wall adjacent to the hallway, and with that support he can run his hands down her back and against her bum, squeezing the skin through her glittery dress. When he pulls away for a breath, Aisling starts to kiss down the hollow of his throat, sucking a lovebite against the juncture of his neck and shoulder, causing Niall to rock his hips against hers.

“Christ Aisling,” Niall says through a strained breath, his head falling back against the wall when she blows over the fresh mark on his skin.

She steps away cautiously, her eyes wide in anxiousness. Was she doing too much? Niall practically whines when the warmth of her body leaves his own far too quickly, and his arms stretch out to bring her back to him.

“Is it too much? We can stop and forget that it even—”

“—What? Christ, who’s being the eejit now? Don’t leave,” Niall rushes out frantically, pulling Aisling flush against his chest to continue what they were doing before she left.

Aisling giggles into his mouth and it’s probably the sweetest sound he’s ever heard (a close second to her groaning into his mouth earlier). Before she can retreat again, he begins walking them backwards until she’s pushed up against the wall separating their bedrooms.

He breaks away and looks at her with a cocked eyebrow, a smirk growing against his strawberry swollen lips. “Mine or yours, sweet Aisling?”

Aisling laughs a bit, her arms still locked around his neck. Her hands are playing with the hair against the back of his neck, and he’s practically purring at the feeling of it. Without really thinking much (because how could she with the way he was looking at her?) she grabs the closest doorknob to her (which so happens to be hers) and opens it swiftly, dragging Niall by his forearms into the room until the backs of her knees hit her mattress and she’s falling into it with a gentle thud.

It’s all tangled limbs and pulled hair and knocking teeth, and they both could never have imagined their night ending this way. Niall practically rips the hidden zipper of Aisling’s dress off (“Sorry babe, can’t stop thinkin’ about what you look like under it”), Aisling tears through the remaining buttons on his white dress shirt, running her fingers through the hair on his chest causing him to groan against her neck (“Do you like that, Niall?”), Niall flips them over and when he’s leaning over her staring at Aisling hungrily in her cute little matching underwear set, he’s practically drooling at the mouth (“Dear god Aisling, you’re beautiful”), and when they’re both stripped down to nothing but skin and Niall’s leaning on his forearms over her, pushing into her with one swift breath, Aisling can feel herself falling apart inside (“Christ Niall, you’re everything”).

And when it’s all over and done with and they’re both lying against each other, breathing in and out, Aisling suddenly has a realization.

Truth is, maybe her and Niall were alone. But, for one night at least, they could forget about that. Why be alone by yourself when you could be alone together?

So with that thought, she cuddles deeper into Niall’s chest, feeling his hand tread through her auburn hair softly. Before she drifts off, he presses a kiss to the crown of her head, mumbling a quiet Happy New Year, sweet Aisling into her hair.

And when she mutters it back to him, sealing it with a kiss to his collarbone, she actually believes it for once.

That it was, truly, a very happy New Year (in the end).

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[prettycottonmouthlamia]

Percival Analysis

big tittum hours

Percival

Max HP: 12,112

Max ATK: 9,168 (Effective ATK: 9,626)

Star Absorption: 89

Star Generation: 12%

NP Charge ATK: 0.64%

NP Charge DEF: 4%

Attribute: Earth

Alignments: Lawful Good

Traits: Brynhildr's Beloved, Humanoid, Male, Riding, Round Table Knight, Servant, Weak to Enuma Elish

QAABB

Quick = 3 hits, Arts = 2 hits, Buster = 3 hits, Extra = 5 hits

Quick: 1.92%, Arts: 1.28%, Extra: 3.20%

Protection from the Holy Grail A

Increases own Arts performance for 3 turns. (20 -> 30%)

Charges own NP gauge. (10 -> 20%)

Increases party's NP damage for 3 turns. (10 -> 20%)

8 -> 6 turn cooldown

Guardian Knight (Holy Lance) B+

500% Chance to draw attention of all enemies to self by 300% for 3 turns.

Increases own NP generation rate when taking attacks for 3 turns. (30 -> 50%)

7 -> 5 turn cooldown

Light of Salvation B

Grants one ally Invincibility for 1 turn.

Recovers their HP. (1000 -> 2000)

8 -> 6 turn cooldown

Magic Resistance B++

Increases own debuff resistance by 18.5%.

Riding C+

Increases own Quick performance by 7%.

Longinus Count Zero

AoE Arts

4 hits

Grants self Ignore Invincibility for 1 turn.

Increases own NP damage for 1 turn. (20 -> 40%, OC)

Deals damage to all enemies. (450 -> 750%)

Recovers one ally with the lowest HP relative to their max HP by 3000.

Holy Lance Longinus

When equipped on Percival, increase party's Arts performance and NP damage by 10%.

Primary Role: Farmer, Looper, Taunter, Solo

Secondary Role: Defensive Support

Situational Role: N/A

Another Knight of the Round Table has made his way to F/GO, much to the applause of basically everyone it seems. Betwixt a Servant with massive tits is a kit that honestly rather bland and straightforward, but also good enough to make Percival a good choice for your AoE Arts lancer. Whether he's your best one will depend on your pool, but he doesn't arrive a wash-up.

First we start off with his fundamentals. Like basically every other AoE Arts servant released in the history of ever, his NP gain is bad for his hit counts. His Arts cards are pretty embarrassing, his Quick card is largely worthless, and his Extra ranks at "decent". His AQA chain will generate about 25% of his NP gauge, which isn't too terrible but his NP gen problems will become apparent once you don't have his ideal chains. His star generation is a little kinder to him thanks to his decent hit counts, and both his BBQ and QBB chains can generate around 15 stars each. It's not amazing, but it might make a crit happen when it counts.

His 1st skill is a pretty good skill overall, providing a nice Arts and NP damage steroid while also giving a small but welcome NP charge. The increase in Arts performance will push his AQA chain to about 28%, which is expected because of his mediocre Arts cards. The two steroids together will result in a nice 56% damage bonus to his NP as well, which is a strong start. The cooldown is the expected eight to six turns, but that's probably fair all things considered. The charge allows Percival to instant NP with a K-Scope and gives the ability to fix a looping turn (Spoiler alert he loops), which is always nice.

His 2nd skill is a variation of Georgios' Guardian Knight...and personally I find it to be a lot weaker. It's the same 3-turn taunt which is incredible, now on top of a Lancer further increasing the amount of easily accessible 3-turn taunts to different classes, and also increases his defensive NP gen by 50%. Don't get me wrong, this skill can high roll pretty hard and grant him a lot of extra NP a turn against an enemy with high hit counts, but against enemies that are on the lower end you'd want the Def buff way more than the defensive NP gain, and you might want it more anyways since Percival doesn't pack any soft defensive buffs. It's also at a bit of a weird mismatch with his kit, since he's meant to be in farming comps where this doesn't really matter. But in the future, it might be a good skill in a Nerofest exhibition quest or in a challenge quest of some kind, so I won't be too hard on it.

His 3rd skill is a targetable Invul with an okay heal attached to it, which is always pretty welcome. This skill not only has a lot of versatility in being able to keep others alive, it's also a hard defensive skill for Percival as well as a way to guarantee another turn of protection. It's a good skill and solid support, although not positioned the best in terms of his kit.

His NP is where things get...well a little interesting. An AoE NP that pierces invul is always nice, and the extra NP damage buff is appreciated as well, putting him at 40% total usually. His damage sits on average a little under 20k, which is not bad for an unupgraded NP. He also has a heal attached to his NP, but with a catch: it will always heal the, relatively, most damaged party member. Thanks to his taunt, that will usually be him and it's his main source of sustain, but be careful in team situations where his heal might accidentally go to someone else.

So let's get to the boring part and talk about looping. With his 1st skill active, an NPAA chain will generate about 56% of his NP gauge if he hits 3 enemies, 46% if he hits 2, and 36% if he hits only one enemy. This isn't counting overkill either so it can be even higher. It's worth noting that he will need at least two turns on average in between each NP in order to use it again on his own, which could be a problem...

If not for Castoria! A DCS set-up will result in Percival generating about 73% on average, without overkill, on 3 enemies. One might be tempted to despair there, but overkill makes a big difference in looping and this usually means that Percival can 3-turn fairly easily with just an MC boost to his Arts or NP gen for the second wave on average, with the ability to coast on refund with enough overkill. You can also pop his 1st skill to help with the ranges, since the extra 30% Arts bonus makes the base number jump to 84% and helps with his damage a lot more. All in all, his ability to loop is pretty secured, although not 100% painless.

Grails: Grails are okay for Percival, since increasing his attack will naturally increase his NP damage, making overkill easier and loops easier and more consistent. It's not really needed but you'll still likely notice the difference.

Support: Listen he's an AoE Arts servant, he was practically made to work with Servants like Castoria and Tamamo. His synergy with Tamamo is particularly note while, being able to boost his damage as well as grant heals and reduce the cooldowns on his taunts. He'll also work in very defensive teams as a Taunter with damage output, in addition to his targetable invul for emergencies.

Command Code: Percival can have some pretty solid solo potential with the Good Wife CC, increasing the heal on his NP to 4500 or potentially 6000 if timed right, which makes it a good option, as well as CCs to boost his NP damage and his NP gen. He can also use other CCs that remove buffs if you want to focus on him as a secondary DPS in another team.

Craft Essences: K-Scope gives him the ability to instantly NP, The Black Grail gives him massive NP damage while Royal Icing and Sign of Smiling Face give him less damage but more NP consistency, so on and so forth. If you're lacking a Castoria yourself, any 50% CE can be a good option, with notable shout outs for Painting Summer and Vessel of Desires as the best overall options.

Competition: There are 3 other Arts AoE lancers in the game that can compare to Percival: Fionn, Melt, and Vritra (sorry Elice). To be fair to all of them though, they're all good Arts loopers and all can be used really easily with the right gameplan. However, Percival has a notable benefit in having the highest overall refund to all of them with all buffs up. However, this probably only puts him above Fionn in terms of pure viability. Melt still has a 60% NP charge which is incredible, as well as being one of the only loopers to produce a ton of crit stars, and Vritra not only has higher stats overall, but NP regen and anti-Divine bonus damage. It's best to consider what you need to farm the node in question. He's probably the least finicky of the bunch to get looping. In terms of damage, here is the average damage of all 4 lancers at NP1:

Fionn: 96,691

Melt: 93,224

Vritra (non-Divine): 111,968

Percival: 99,627

All in all, he fits right in as a very competent looper and Arts DPS with the rest of the gang.

Pros:

-Solid steroids give him good NP damage

-NP charge is good on a looper, though a bit weak

-3 turn taunts are always very powerful

-Targetable invul and heal give him good versatility

-Pierce invul on NP will ensure damage most of the time

-Very good refund for an Arts Lancer, makes him easy to loop

-NP has another heal to stack on his S3

Cons:

-Most of his kit is pointless if he's only used for looping

-NP gain is slow when not used in looping comps

-Relies on heals to deal with damage while taunting, which can be problematic with high damage opponents

-Heal may not go to Percival which can be dangerous

Overall Opinions:

Percival did not immediately interest me like the other Lancer on his banner, but he's a good example of an "Ol' Reliable" kind of Servant: everything in his kit is stuff we've seen before, but it's all good and he rounds out being a pretty strong Servant. Good looping, good team support, solid healing capabilities, and good enough damage gives him a strong overall performance, despite the occasional hiccups in his kit and intended role.

He's good y'all.

[kazosa]

Summary: Dean could see the writing on the wall and he knew what he needed to do. It was what he always did. He protected the ones he cared about, at all costs, and killed monsters. Only, this time, The End, he wasn’t sure he could protect the woman he loved.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, major regret, bad language, terrible choices

Word Count: 2963

Tags: @briagallen​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @squirrelnotsam​ @coffee-obsessed-writer​ @sorenmarie87​  @his-paradox​

A/N: the above banner was created by the amazingly talented @coffee-obsessed-writer​ She somehow manages to get in my head and see what I am thinking and puts it in an incredible piece of art for me. Many thanks, as usual!

Eight months had passed since the end and Dean hadn’t spent more than two nights in one place the whole time. It wasn’t that he had somewhere to be. In fact, the opposite was true. No one was looking for him, no one missed him. No one needed him. For the first time in his life, he was obligated to no one… and he didn’t know what to do with himself. Everywhere he went, someone, some place, some dirty back road to nowhere made him think of all the people he’d lost and he would need to move on. It was too hard. And, as much as it pained him to sell his car, it hurt far more to not see Sam sitting in the passenger seat. Instead, he roamed the roads on a motorcycle that looked like had been thrown together. He just needed it to go everywhere and get there fast. 

“Hey, pal, last call was twenty minutes ago,” the bartender reminded him.

“Right,” he downed the beer, “don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.” He stood up from his barstool, taking out his wallet throwing a few bills down on the bar, then grabbed his helmet, ready to leave. 

“You want me to call you an Uber?”

If Dean hadn’t become a functioning alcoholic, he might have thrown up at the thought. He didn’t do that hipster crap.

“Nope.”

“Can anyone come get you?” the bartender asked again. 

Dean kept walking, “nope.” The only thing he’d managed to do in eight months was become a meandering mess who reeked of some kind of booze, as he rode across the country verifying that everyone he ever loved or cared about had died. The end had been a massacre and he had been the only one to make it out alive. 

“You don’t know that,” the annoying voice at the back of his head chimed in.

Dean yanked his helmet on, his beard prickling against the chin guard. He pulled the scarf up around his neck and made sure the ends stayed tucked inside his leather jacket as he got on his motorcycle. There was one person who had been on his mind. One of the last ones he hadn’t yet checked up on, mostly because he couldn’t bring himself to know one way or the other… yet.

2008

“This place reeks of school,” he said under his breath. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Its a college library Dean.”

“Whatever,” he snorted. “You go do your nerd thing. I’m gonna see what the librarian knows.”

“I hope you’re going to change tactics,” Sam warned.

When Dean gave him a questioning look, he continued. “That ‘tutor’ line never works.”

“When you get more numbers than me, then you can judge,” he scoffed.

Dean still caught a hint of his disapproving look before he left him behind to go talk to the librarian. Unlike Sam, he’d scoped out the library the day before. He knew how to do homework, just not the kind that got good grades. He hoped the one he saw the day before would be working again.

As he rounded the corner, an older woman was behind the counter furiously shelving books to the return cart. She wasn’t the one he was hoping to see; he would have remembered seeing this one. She wore clothes from a few decades before, thick glasses on a chain, and though her hair hadn’t fully grayed, her hair was done in what he assumed was a beehive. 

He sidled up to the counter. “Hey, sweetheart.”

The woman let out an exasperated huff and slammed down the barcode scanner she was using to check in books. She folded her arms in front of her and leaned on the counter to look at her most recent annoyance.

“My name is Gloria, not sweetheart. What do you want?”

Dean cleared his throat and wondered why his obvious charms didn’t work. “Um, I’m looking for a tutor….”

“You really think I’m going to believe you’re a student? Honey, this isn’t my first day.” She unfolded her arms and stood back from the counter, her impatient look not changing. 

“Easy Glo, he’s one of mine,” she suddenly appeared; the one who’d caught his eye.

“You need to quit having your boyfriends come here,” Gloria chided.

The woman looked at her co-worker, “Mm quite right.” She turned to Dean. “Honey, how ‘bout you come down here?”

“Have a lot of boyfriends?” he followed her to the end of the counter. Finally, he saw the name on her tag. (Y/N).

“I you don’t strike me as the exclusive kind,” she teased. “How can I help you?”

I could be, he thought. “I need a tutor,” he leaned on the counter towards her. 

She leaned forward and put her hands on his. “Gloria is watching and I’m usually affectionate with boyfriends.” Her nail traced a line up his wrist making his skin tingle. “What are you really doing here?”

This was not all how he planned on having things go. “I, um, I’m looking…”

“If you’re a student here, I’ll eat my shirt,” she stayed perfectly in character with Gloria watching. “You’re here about that stuff with Jenny and Keith, aren’t you?”

“Just looking into what happened. Not buying what the papers and authorities are saying. Looking to get the truth.”

Somehow, she had a pen and was writing something on his hand. He would have looked at his hand, but he couldn’t draw his gaze from her.

“What’s your name, honey?” she looked him in the eye.

“D-Dean,” he stammered. “Dean Winchester.”

“Well, Dean, I’m off at four and we can talk then,” she said, rubbing the top of his hand. “Better get out of here before Glo turns you into Security.”

Dean sighed heavily as he started the motorcycle. (Y/N) had been a wild card right from the start. He’d been thinking about her a lot lately. She was the only person giving him hope. He couldn’t, or wouldn’t, think of her as anything but alive, but what was he supposed to do? Live on blind faith that she was alive and well? He didn’t have faith in anything. Not after the End, except maybe her… of all people, of all hunters, she being alive would mean he wasn’t alone. And if anyone could cheat death, it was her.

Getting settled before he rolled out, he felt the weight of his gun and knife press against his torso. He knew how to get to Purgatory. In the last eight months it had become a more and more appealing option. Why not just go there and do the only thing he’d ever been good at? ‘Cause (Y|N) won’t be there,’ he answered his own question.

He could just wait for Billie to come get him, but for what? She was there… at The End… she’d said, “This ain’t in your book, honey” as he sat on the ground, covered in blood and screamed into the night at the sorrow and unfairness of it all. He still didn’t understand how living had been his fate…

2013

“Nope,” his heart hammered in his chest as he pulled her into his lap. He took (Y/N)’s hands and held them on her chest. “You’re not going anywhere. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.” In his head, he screamed for Cas to come. 

Sam held pressure on her leg and did the best he could on her abdomen. (Y/N) had been with them in some way for the last five years. She was a natural hunter and her knowledge of the supernatural had bailed them out of tough situations more than once.

“Deuce, c’mon. You gotta stay with me,” he used the nickname he’d thought up for her.

(Y/N) sighed and groaned at the same time. “Ungh, stop calling me Deuce, it sounds like shit.”

Dean looked at Sam, who tipped his head to the side in silent affirmation.

“...wild cards though,” he muttered.

“I don’t want… the last words I hear from you… to include… shit. Clearly… I’m the Ace in the Hole,” she said between labored breaths.

(Y/N) looked up at him and laughed. She went down hill at breakneck speed. Sam couldn’t keep enough pressure on her wounds, even with an extra hand from Dean…

He’d watched her slip away from him once and he didn’t want to do it again. Cas had come, but not in time to heal her before she died. 

“Please, Cas…”

Dean didn’t know if it was he who’d said it, or Sam. Either way, the angel reached out his hands, making (Y/N)’s wounds glow with his healing touch. She’d gasped awake and immediately clung to Dean. ‘Man, she held on tight,’ he thought. And so had he. At that moment, he knew he would never let that kind of harm come to her again.

Rolling on the throttle, the motorcycle carried Dean away from the bar and down the road…

2013

It had been a few months since it happened. Dean sat in the library. His chin resting on his hand on the table. With his other hand, he rolled the tumbler of whiskey between his thumb and middle finger. The light from the above pendant lighting penetrating the amber liquid in the crystal glass.

(Y/N) was in Sam’s room watching some nerd show, or something, and that left him alone to dwell in his thoughts. Nor did he care for the feeling of jealousy that had been rising in him, so he’d decided to have a drink about it.

“Hey,” (Y/N) said, walking into the room. 

Dean didn’t move from his spot at the table. He still looked at the whiskey in his glass and barely raised his hand in greeting. The whiskey had done its job warming his heart and… slightly… numbing his feelings.

(Y/N) pulled out the chair next to him. He rolled his head to the side, resting on his arm to look at her. He almost hated how much he loved her eyes. And he definitely didn’t hate how she was looking at him.

She put her hand on his arm and gave him a little squeeze. “Why’re you out here pouting?”

Called out again, he said what came to mind first. “I’m not pouting, you’re pouting.” Dammit.

“Yeah, okay. It’s funny how you still think I can’t read you like a book,” her voice was soft. She slid a hand down to his wrist, her thumb stroking his skin. It always seemed to tingle when she did that.

Grudgingly, and with more effort than he cared for, he managed to peel himself off the table to sit up. He wondered what she thought she could see written all over him.

He watched her as she stood up, forcing him to lean back a little in his chair. He never knew what she would do next and it both excited and scared the shit out of him, and not ever in a bad way.

Her hands, how he loved when she touched him, went to his face and hair. If he hadn’t already had the whiskey, he might feel drunk off her touch alone. She slowly leaned down further. (Y/N)’s lip touched his and he thought maybe he was dreaming. She kissed him like it had been something they did all the time. He fantasized on it plenty…

Before he knew it, she was gone and looking over her shoulder at him from the doorway, whiskey in hand.

“You coming?”

If he’d ever been drunk, he’d sobered in a hurry and followed her. What resulted was not just an amazing night of love making. It had also resulted in a relationship he hadn’t known she’d wanted… just as much as he had.

The chill of the night air cut through his thin layers. Most of the time, he just ignored it. He’d been through worse. He could withstand anything. He just didn’t know if he could stand living in a world without (Y/N) in it.

The ‘what ifs’ ran through his mind again. If he waited for whatever end was coming to him, there would still be no guarantee he would see her again. There was no way he could go on living in this world if she wasn’t in it…

2019

It was a quiet morning. Sam was somewhere with Eileen and that left him and (Y|N) with the bunker to themselves. These were the mornings that were his favorite. (Y|N) was tucked into his side, her arm draped across him. They didn’t have a case to work. They had nowhere to be. All they needed to do was lie in bed all day. 

“What’re you thinking about?” she asked.

Dean ran his hand over her arm across his chest, “Just about how lucky I am.”

“It’s true,” she kissed his jaw, “you are super lucky.”

Five years. He’d had the love of a good woman for five years. They were a great team. He had everything he ever wanted. Somehow they had managed to balance the hunter life and ‘normal’ life. They worked well together and played well together. 

“What’s the plan for today?” he asked.

“Staying in bed all day sounds good to me,” she answered. “Oh, hold on, I made you something.”

(Y|N) handed him a spiral bound book. Inside were pictures of the two of them, Sam and Eileen, Jody and Donna, Rowena… 

“It’s us. All of us,” she explained, “our story.”

It was mostly the two of them. They were in the bunker, road hotels, in Baby. She never asked him for more than what he could give, but he still found himself wanting to give her more. He wanted to live in a house, have a kid or two. He wanted more. A real life.

Dean kept the small scrapbook with him, always. He didn’t need to bring his father’s journal anymore, the End made sure of that. The journal came with him out of habit now. Dean brought the scrapbook because he needed it, more than he cared to admit. He needed to see their faces, to remember the good times, and to see her… 

Dean slowed the bike to a stop at a red light. Turning right, he would go to her house. To the left, he would take the road to nowhere. Going straight, he would forge ahead. 

The End was coming and, unlike so many times before, they had known it was coming. All Dean could see were all the things that were trying to kill them. He just wanted to make sure she was safe...

“I want you to leave.”

“What? Your room?”

“No, the bunker. I don’t want you here anymore.”

“What? Why? What’s wrong?”

“You’re reckless and too unpredictable. You’re either going to get yourself killed or someone else and I can’t have that on my conscience.”

“No, that’s bullshit.”

It didn’t end there. The next day was more of the same, but he’d stood firm on his decision. Break it off clean, get her away and to safety.

“Just promise me you won’t keep hunting.”

“No.”

“Ace.”

“No. You’re being stupid. You know I can help and you know I won’t stop,” she was mad and near tears. “When this is over and you’re done being stupid, come find me. You love me, Dean.” She turned back before she got in her car. “You better not fucking die, ‘cause when this is over, and you come find me, I’ll kick your ass.”

His heart left that day when she tore down the dirt road that led away from the bunker. Maybe that was why he did the things he did at The End, showing no mercy… nothing but brute force brawling…

Dean turned right and continued on. Was he done being stupid? Probably not. What he did know was that the dumbest thing he ever did was force her out of his life and he needed to know, for sure, one way or another, if his life was worth continuing. 

For the first time, in a very long time, he had hope…

He knew where she used to live, it had been a few years since he’d seen her and… he just didn’t know… was she alive? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Married? Hunting? Normal job? If she was still alive, she’d be there.

It was late, the house was dark, too dark for anyone to be awake. He should give a damn that he was about to knock on the door and disturb the residents, but he didn’t. He waited long enough and needed to know… to see her face… to have hope again. He climbed the stairs, feeling lighter with each step he took. His heart raced as he stood at the wood door. gargoyle door knocker seemed to mock him as he stood there, unable to move.

“Shut up,” he grumbled as he grabbed the gargoyle and made it rap loudly, twice, on the door. Dean was about to try again when the porch light flicked on. His eyes rebelled at the sudden glare from above. He shaded his eyes, but didn’t look away from the gargoyle. The sound of the locks turning shifted his gaze to the door’s opening. Time slowed to a crawl. Dean swore he could hear the antique metal rotate as the person on the other side of the door turned the knob.

It all came down to this. Would she be there? Would she be the one to open the door? Would she be happy to see him? What if…

The door cracked open. His heart jumped in his throat as the porch light fell on the face inside.

“Hi.”

[astheskycries]

Protected- Chapter Eight

When Maggie agreed to help her best friend finish preparing for an art exhibit, she wasn’t expecting to end up in the middle of a rough battle between Captain America and a shooter. She also didn’t expect to be considered a target because he saved her life and to be hunted by HYDRA agents for her involvement. Now her life is in the hands of a perfect soldier… and so is her heart.

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

“How is she?” Steve asks, standing beside me with his arms crossed. I’m sitting on a metal table, and a man with brown hair and eyes is moving away from me.

“She’s fine.” The doctor- or who I assume is the doctor- says calmly, turning to face him. “But I’ve told you, I’m not that kind of doctor.”

“You’re the doctor I trust,” Steve says calmly. “Maggie, this is Dr. Banner.”

He nods once. I stay silent and avert my eyes.

Steve offers me a hand down, and when I move to get down by myself he grabs my hips and lifts me up before setting me down.

“I was fine,” I protest, still following him as he leads me out with a hand on my back.

“I know,” He says calmly, stepping into the hallway where Natasha is waiting. “She’s fine.”

Natasha nods once, completely focused. “We need to decide what to do next if they went after her.”

“I heard the name Jonathan,” Steve says, making me tense. “Maybe he has something to do with them.”

“Not anymore,” I say calmly.

Both turn to look at me. “Not anymore?” Steve asks in his Captain America voice, a hard edge to it.

I bite my lip, avoiding their eyes.

“Maggie,” Natasha says coldly, and I glance up as Steve sends her a glare.

“Jonathan is someone I used to know,” I say quietly. “If they killed him, he either got in their way or they decided they no longer need him.”

“How did you know him?” Steve asks calmly, his eyes almost soothing.

I hesitate. “He was an old friend,” I say quietly, not completely lying. Steve frowns, and before he can say anything I add, “We lost contact a long time ago. I didn’t know anything happened to him.”

Steve tilts his head, eyes curious. “You broke it off?”

I bite my lip. “It’s a long story.”

Steve frowns, clearly wanting to push the issue, but Natasha steps forward. “Why would they go after you?”

I shake my head helplessly. “I don’t know. I think it’s just because-” I cut myself off, not wanting to cause any problems.

“Because?” She prompts, raising an eyebrow.

I wince, looking at the ground. “Because Steve is trying to protect me. They know they can target his sense of duty by attacking the civilian he’s trying to protect.”

Natasha nods, as if it makes sense. “We’ll keep you inside for as long as possible. That way we can make sure they don’t come after you again.”

I nod once, and Steve puts a hand on my lower back again before leading me down the hall. I relax at the warmth from his hand, most likely the serum’s doing, and I try to think of something to say.

“You said you couldn’t dance, right?” Steve asks suddenly.

I blink. “Yes,” I say carefully.

“I think we should try,” He says calmly.

I don’t say anything, waiting for him to tell me it’s a joke, but it never comes. “I don’t really have anything to wear to go dancing,” I say quietly.

“You don’t have to,” He stops outside of my door, turning to face me. “Just come.”

I hesitate for a long moment. “Ok,” I say quietly, hoping I’m right about his reasons.

He smiles beautifully, making me scold myself for thinking that way. “I’ll see you in my gym,” He says gently. “Meet me tonight at six.”

I force myself to nod, and he disappears down the hall, leaving me to release a breath and gain a little more air before slipping into my room. I instantly see my phone on the desk, and I see a note next to it.

I found this with the other things they took from you. Tony put some restrictions on it, but I made sure you could still talk to your friend. I would call her soon; it looked like she’d been trying to talk to you for a while.

- S

I bite my lip and fold the note carefully, slipping it under the mattress before turning back to my phone and checking the time.

I have three hours.

I nervously grab the phone and dial her number.

“Maggie!” Zoe yells instantly, making me wince. “Where are you?”

I glance around nervously. “It’s a long story. Steve Rogers took me to the Avengers compound for safety. I can’t tell you much, but-”

“If Captain Rogers is trying to protect you, I’m not arguing,” She says flatly. “I heard they may have found his friend. True or not true?”

I pause. “I have no idea,” I admit helplessly. “I hope so; he deserves it.”

“Sounds like you’re getting attached,” Zoe says knowingly. “I don’t blame you. Does he know about Jonathan yet?”

“I’d rather not tell him unless necessary.” I say honestly. “He knows he’s an old friend I lost touch with.”

“Hmm,” Zoe says disapprovingly. “Tell him soon.” I don’t answer, and she presses on. “Just tell me when you come back, ok?” There’s yelling, and then my best friend curses. “I have to go. Stay safe,” She hangs up before I can say anything, and I sigh, setting it on the table before dropping on the bed, wondering what I’m going to do being alone with a super soldier.

…

I take an unsteady breath as I step into the gym, seeing everything pushed against a wall and an old record player across from me, playing a song from the 40s. Steve is standing in front of it, dressed in his old military uniform, and I feel extremely underdressed.

“Wow,” I whisper, making him smile beautifully.

He slowly moves closer to me, offering his hand. “Would you like to dance?”

I cautiously take his hand, and he gently tugs me against him, one hand on my waist and the other holding mine, and he easily leads me into the slow song.

“I thought you said you couldn’t dance?” I ask, staring up into his eyes.

He chuckles, pulling me closer. “Anything for my best girl,” He whispers, making me blush furiously against better judgement.

“Liar,” I whisper. “I bet you use that line on all of the girls.”

He chuckles again, tilting his head down so his lips are by my ear. “Only one,” I feel him smirk as I involuntarily shiver, and he whispers, “Just follow me.”

I close my eyes and rest my head in the crook of his neck, relaxing to the sound of him humming along and letting him lead me across the makeshift floor.

For once, I don’t think about his motives. I just feel.

Tags @ariallane​ @avengerscompound​ @jennylovelyheart​ @mewsiex @chrisevans-imagines​ @imagine-assembling-the-avengers​ @whostheblondegirl​​ @mylittlefandomfanfictions​​ @hannshasallthecheese​ @sian22redux​​ @mycapt-ohcapt​​ @jayded-dreams​ @4theluvofall​​ @smoothdogsgirl​​ @soulmates8​​ @katiew1973​​ @hista-girl​​ @fay-1994​ @pegasusdragontiger​​ @domcaaa996​​ @dragonflare18​​ @mizzzpink​​  @iamwarrenspeace​​ @pinkleopardss​​ @stevergxrs​ @ilovethings-somuch​​ @be-amaziing​​ @patzammit​​ @corie-the-writer​​​ @hellohollands​​ @ajestice​​ @brb-theres-cookies​ @liza-ouat​​ @shut-it-tinman​​ @chameerah​​ @giftofdreams​​ @geeksareunique​​ @pheonix16 @my-emotional-self​​ @yourstateofdreaming​​ @esoltis280​​ @janeyboo​​ @ladygrey03​​ @see-you-again-my-sun-and-stars​​ @marvelfan18buckybear​​ @nerdgirljen​​ @password123d​ @marvelouslyme96​ @jadepc​ @starbuckycofee​ @sophster1881​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @gazebozo-the-clown​ @snowflakesandkisses​ @shakyskit @gigiljoshler​ @promarvelfangirl​ @kimmiestrawberrykiwi​ @averyrogers83​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ @anaussiesblog @idontbelieveinperfect​ @disney-fire-fox​ @leanachansworld @palaiasaurus64​ @whyugottabsorude @captainrogerrsbeard @guera31​ @marvelismylifffe​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @mrs-captain-evans​ @kirstie-evans-writes​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @southerngracela @introvertedmouse If you would like on or off the tag list please let me know

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@pitabread79​ @my-drowning-in-time​ @a-person-unlabled​

[theladyofdeath]

10 Things I Hate About You {1}

An ACOTAR fanfiction. 

Nessian. Feysand. Elriel. Elucien.

Story inspired by the 1999 classic, 10 Things I Hate About You, and a prompt from anon.

Summary: Cassian gets dared to convince the university’s notorious bitch to attend the Greek winter formal with him. Elain is conflicted between her lifelong crush or the boy with the hazel eyes who makes her feel like more than just a pretty face. Feyre finds herself captivated by her school’s new janitor, but little does she knew that he’s not employed there by choice.

Warning: Rated M for mature.

Author’s Note: WELCOME. Get ready for a hell of a ride. I love to know your thoughts! + comment or send an ask if you want to be tagged.

Nesta loved music.

There was something soothing about a song that could completely enthrall an average person within the first few notes. Nesta would close her eyes, lie on her bed, and listen for hours.

In her studio apartment, she had built floating shelves along one wall, that ranged from the floor to the ceiling. Vinyl records and cds were organized in alphabetical order, by genre.

No one else was allowed to touch them.

Not that she had that many visitors.

But, it was why she had left her last roommate and begun to live alone.

An old, beat up piano and an acoustic guitar sat in the corner, between what served as her kitchen and her bedroom.

There were many days when Nesta wouldn’t even step out of her apartment, or days when the only time she would leave would be to go to the old record store on the corner.

At least, that’s how it was during the Summer months.

Now, it was September and the first day of her senior year at VU had approached. One more year. All she had to do was get through one more year, and she never had to step foot in an educational facility ever again.

It was about damn time.

Nesta had always hated school. Unfortunately, many believed it was necessary for future success.

Nothing like getting into debt that is forever impossible to pay off, just so you can one day make enough to, hopefully, survive.

It was a fucked up system, but Nesta endured it, nonetheless.

One day, she was going to open up her own music store. She was going to be a business owner - a successful one, unlike her father.

Her father stupidly ran his own business into the ground and was so devastated that he neglected to take care of his three children.

She would never be like her old man.

Nesta dropped her towel in front of her mirror and looked at her body. She was much too thin for her liking. She practically had the ass of a twelve-year-old boy. Tilting her head, she took a deep breath in through her nose and let it out through her lips.

Maybe she should start eating more.

Too bad food was so damn expensive and she had just spent five hundred dollars on books for the semester.

Fucked. Up. System.

Nesta pulled on a pair of jeans and decided on a long-sleeved black tee. She hated how college boys neglected to hide their wandering eyes, so Nesta dressed to avoid such altercations at all costs.

After grabbing her book bag off her couch, she was walking through the warm Velaris streets, her hair still damp from her shower.

She glanced at her phone screen. She had ten minutes to make it to her 9 a.m. class.

After a short curse, she picked up her pace.

She had lived on campus for the first two years but wasn’t a fan of it. Campus life typically revolved around idiot boys pretending to be men and girls who snuck out after hours. Her roommate, the one who touched her records, had a squeaky bed with heavy movement.

It squeaked often.

Although it was more expensive, Nesta decided to live alone just outside of campus. Her apartment was convenient - next to campus, next to the diner in which she worked, and walking distance to the music store. Although she had a car, she rarely used it.

But as her legs began to grow tired, she wondered why.

Her 9 a.m. class was on the far end of campus, so she hurried through a series of courtyards before finally reaching the old, looming brick building.

She pulled out her phone and pulled up her schedule as she entered. British Literature 1. Room 303.

There was a line at the elevator, so she took to the staircase.

She had two minutes to get to the third floor.

And she would have made it if it weren’t for him.

“Hey,” he said, stepping in front of her when she made it to the third floor. “Greek night is tonight. Come?”

Nesta tried to step past him but he followed her lead, handing her a flyer.

“Move,” she snapped.

He grinned, and she met his eyes for the first time. Hazel, bright. His shoulder length hair was a deep, dark brown.

His smile was beautifully dangerous, beautifully horrid.

“I’m going to be late, asshole,” she scowled. “Move.”

He folded up a flyer and stuck it in the side pocket of her backpack. “Fine. See you later.”

“No, you won’t,” she mumbled, knocking into his shoulder as she hurried past him.

She could hear his laughter follow her until she walked into room 303.

~~~~

Rhysand entered Amarantha’s office, already wanting to puke.

She was sitting behind her desk, her red-gold hair in a tight braid. Her eyes met his and she grinned.

“Ah, Rhysand,” she crooned. “You’re late for your first day on the job.”

Rhys shut the door but stayed near it as he replied, “Considering school has been in session for an hour, I assumed it would be okay.”

She raised a brow. “I’ll allow it, just this once.”

He gave her a curt nod.

“Here are your keys,” she said, tossing a ring across the room, which he easily caught. “There is a closet by the gym with all of your supplies. I expect you here from eight to five every day, Monday through Friday. Any step out of line, Rhysand, and you will be sorry. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” he replied, through gritted teeth.

She smiled, charmingly. “So uptight. I like you better relaxed.”

“Is small talk a part of my job description?” he asked, irritated.

“No,” she said, smile unwavering. “You may leave.”

“Fine,” he said, opening her door.

“And Rhysand?”

He stopped, but didn’t turn.

“Say goodbye before you leave this afternoon,” she said.

Rhysand shut the door quietly behind him.

He attempted to reel in his emotions as he strode through the silent hallways. Three years ago, he had been a senior at North Velaris High. Three years ago, he thought he’d be nearing the end of his college career at twenty-one. But, now, he was a janitor.

It’s not that he had anything against janitors.

He actually respected them greatly. They had to clean up some pretty horrible shit, after some pretty disrespectful teenagers.

But, he had never imagined himself as one.

Until now, he was going to VU for psychology. He had worked his ass off year round, even taking Summer classes.

But then, Summer came, once more, and Amarantha…

Knew.

She knew, and she held it over him. She hadn’t been his principle, she was only a few years older than he was. Rumor was, her father got her the job. It was her first year, and she had taken Rhysand with her.

She was keeping him close, keeping him near so she could watch his every move.

And he wouldn’t have done it unless he had to, wouldn’t have taken the job and abandoned everything else if he didn’t believe her threats.

He was caught up in a dangerous game.

A game he hadn’t even wanted to play in the first place.

Rhysand found his way to the janitor’s closet by the gym. After attempting half the keys on his key ring, he finally managed to get it open.

It was filled with supplies, ancient supplies, all that had been used by his father. He stepped inside and flipped on the light switch, brushing his fingertips along the broomsticks and the rags that lined the shelves.

There was a schedule posted on the wall in familiar handwriting.

Handwriting that Rhysand had grown up seeing.

Handwriting that belonged to a man he’d never see again.

Without giving it too much thought, he slipped the coveralls over his sweatpants and teeshirt before tending to his duties.

~~~~

The day passed quickly for Elain Archeron.

She was so busy prepping for Greek night that she’d barely made it to her afternoon class, and when it was over, she ran to Greek Row and into the house of Alpha Delta Pi, greeting her sisters before grabbing a clipboard and beginning her checklist.

It was nearly half an hour after four when two familiar faces showed up on the lawn.

Elain grinned, running to the curb. “So? I just hung the banner. What do you think?”

Feyre nodded in approval as Nesta glared at girls in passing.

“It’s beautiful, Elain,” Feyre smiled. “You did a great job. Sorry we couldn’t make it here earlier, tryouts went longer than I thought.”

Elain had almost forgotten that Feyre was trying out for the varsity soccer team. In her will to get everything set up, it had slipped her mind.

“How’d it go?”

“Good,” Feyre beamed. “They’re posting spots tomorrow. They also let me into two art classes this semester, since I finished all my math credits last year. And we got a hot, new janitor. So, overall, not a bad first day.”

Elain huffed a laugh. “That’s great, Feyre. Only one more year until you’re here with me.”

Nesta hadn’t said a word.

She hated the Greeks and everything they stood for, hated that Elain had spent three years in ADPi, even if their mom had been a part of the same sorority during her time at VU.

“I’m going to go see if anyone needs help,” Feyre smiled, hurrying across the yard.

“She’s brainwashed,” Nesta mumbled.

“Don’t be so hard on her,” Elain scolded. “Just because this isn’t your thing doesn’t mean it can’t be hers.”

“She only wants to join because of you and mom,” Nesta said, crossing her arms. “I mean, look at all of this. You’re all working your asses off to have a bunch of wannabe's ask you a million questions in five minutes, then leave.”

“If you don’t want to be here, why’d you come?” Elain asked, refusing to get angry, but growing frustrated.

“Feyre wanted to come,” she shrugged. “I’m not letting her walk around a college campus alone.”

“She wouldn’t be alone. She’d be with me.”

“You’re busy,” Nesta said. “Aren’t you going out with Vanserra tonight?”

Nesta couldn’t help the way she was. Or, maybe she could and just didn’t want to.

The way she said Vanserra made his name sound like filth.

“Yes, and I’m very excited about it, so it’d be nice if you were excited for me, too.”

“Excited about what?” Nesta scoffed. “Going out with a guy who only wants to take you to dinner so he can leave before breakfast?”

Elain’s brows furrowed. “He’s not like that. He’s not like the rest of them.”

“They’re all like that,” Nesta snapped, before pulling out her phone and sitting on the curb.

Elain sighed, catching the glimpse of a visitor.

He was wearing his typical, black jeans, which had rips in the knees. His boots were old, dingy, falling apart. He wore a plain black tee with a plaid button-down tossed over his shoulder.

Nesta looked up from her screen, fury igniting. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I see you came,” he winked. “It was because of my flyer, wasn’t it?”

Nesta chuckled. “You’re in a fraternity? Seriously?”

He didn’t answer her question. Instead, he looked up. “Hey, Elain. Lovely to see you, as always.”

Elain smiled, even though she felt the need to roll her eyes. “Hi, Cassian. All set up for the night?”

“Nothing fancy,” he shrugged. “Although, there is a party afterward. You should come.”

“I have plans,” she said, politely declining.

Cassian smiled down at Nesta. “How about you?”

“I’d rather bathe in gasoline and jump into a fire,” Nesta spat.

He chuckled and walked away, hands in his pockets.

“He doesn’t look like he’d be a frat boy,” Nesta said after he left.

“Kappa Sigma,” Elain said. “Party frat. We don’t take them too seriously.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, probably wondering why someone would take any fraternity or sorority seriously.

“You know, you probably would have liked it if you finished rush week freshman year,” Elain noted, before crossing her arms and walking toward the house. “At least I made it.”

~~~~

Nesta sat on the curb for a long while, watching as hopeful freshman went from house to house on Greek row.

She had been in their shoes once. Four years ago, she had walked the same walk on Greek row, excited to follow in her late mother’s footsteps.

She hadn’t made it through Rush, though.

She had left.

Had secluded herself.

Had begun to push everything and everyone away.

That week had changed her.

Feyre plopped down next to her on the grass just as the sun began to set. “I think I’m going to stay for a little while. I can get a ride home from one of the girls. You don’t have to wait for me.”

“It’s a school night.”

“Have I ever proven that I’m not responsible?”

Nesta glared at her youngest sister.

Feyre glared back.

She wasn’t wrong. Feyre was probably the most reliable out of all of them.

“Fine,” Nesta said, standing to her feet and brushing off her jeans. “Make good choices.”

Feyre lifted a brow. “Fine. You too.”

Nesta walked back to her apartment, alone, as the Velaris starlight made its appearance.

~~~~

Chapter two coming soon.

@throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @photofeesh @mariamuses @queen-archeron @agel-yan  @julesherondalex @rhysismydaddy @poisonous00 @katshrev         @girl-who-reads-the-books @a-trifling-matter @kickassunicorn  @illyrian-highfae @light-in-the-shadows72 @abimomeopectore @cjcraiggchiefofstaff        @empress-ofbloodshed  @outofstyles13  @overgrown-bat @thebitchupstairs @breccia-domain    @ladyblackstairs  @nish247  @my-fan-side  @panda3506 @awesomethreedragons  @hawkingeloise @feysand-dot-acotar  @darknessinthediamond @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @illyrianbae99      @i-look-like-a-mess  @my-parabatai-is-a-herondale @justacatastrophe @sofyyyd  @sannelovesreading  @kylizzles @kiss-my-maas @inrealliampain     @alien-from-pluto-writer @corpdemarvel @lorcanswife @aelinsaesthetic @illyriangarbage 

[monicawoe]

12, 16, 21, 25

for the fanfic end of the year asks meme (thanks @slytherkins !)

12. favorite character to write about this year: It’s a tie between Eddie Brock/Venom and Sam Winchester. Venom fics have been incredibly fun to write and I’ve really been enjoying writing more humorous fics which is something I used to struggle with. But with Supernatural in its last season I also had a serious resurgence of need to write all the Sam fics!

21. most memorable comment/review:  “M A X I M U M T O A S T BABYBOI NO.”…which totally makes sense in context. Venom had some difficulties operating the toaster.

25. a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read: Definitely The Holy Grail Bird by @denugis  Not just because she wrote this as a gift fic to me, but because it’s easily one of my favorite fics of all times. This is such an insightful look into Sam and addresses the Winchester’s Chuck Problem so cleverly, but more than that it brought me to tears in the best kind of way, the kind of tears that happen when somebody just gets it so spot on and so beautifully that your heart leaps and aches all at the same time.  If you are a Sam Winchester fan, do yourself a favor and read this immediately if you haven’t yet, and if you’ve already read it, then go read it again

16 fic(s) you completed this year (*saving this one for last since it’s a long response!) I completed 17 fics this year, of which 16 were posted–mainly Supernatural, Venom and MCU. This was such an awesome year for collaborations, big-bangs and fic exchanges. I had the opportunity to work with some truly stellar artists who are all total sweethearts, so thanks again to @sketchydean, @sdeeys, @vebirascanvasand of course @quickreaver for bringing my fics to life so beautifully. Thanks also to everybody whose prompts I filled for various events, and big thanks to my amazing betas for saving me from my own bad writing habits

Links, fic summaries, and gorgeous art banners below the cut!

Supernatural:

Lakeside Fishing - After defeating Famine, after days of suffering through demon blood withdrawal in the panic room, Sam needs time to clear his head. Early in the morning, he heads to a small lake seeking solitude, but instead finds an unexpected ally. (Sam/Patrick(S5ep7), 4k words)

His Soul to Keep - art by @sketchydean - written for the SPN Eldritch Bang horror event - Dean’s deal is coming due soon. When he finds out from Ruby that Hell will turn him into a demon, he refuses to accept it, even though he can already feel pieces of his soul starting to crumble away. Sam is his only anchor to the world, and Dean finds it harder and harder to leave his side.   After Broward County, after watching Dean die a thousand deaths, Sam decides he’s not going to let Dean go to Hell. He’ll do whatever it takes, even if that means allying himself with Ruby and using the darkness inside of him. Sam casts a soul-binding spell on Dean; they might not be able to break the deal, but they can change who Dean’s soul belongs to. (13k, Sam/Dean, hard-gen, AU of season 3))

Thirteen Taps of The Ivory Beak - Death is a transient thing. The bird knows this, because she herself is both alive and not. Her creator made her this way, not by choice but because of who he is. (a companion piece to de_nugis’ The Holy Grail Bird, 900 words)

Whosoever Holds - Just when Sam Winchester needs it most, Mjölnir returns to him. But is he really worthy? (2k, gen Sam Winchester, Steve Rogers; MCU/SPN crossover)

The Devil You Knew - Brady, not Azazel, had killed Jessica, all those years ago. And now he was sitting across from Sam, bound. Trapped. (1k; an alternate version of Sam’s confrontation with Brady in 5x20)

Wednesday - It’s Wednesday. It’s always Wednesday, he thinks, as he stands up and leaves the motel room, not sparing a glance at the other bed. (2k, Mystery Spot boyKing!Sam AU)

Last Drop - art by @quickreaver -written for the Twisted Tropes event - Sam/Brady AU set while Sam’s at Stanford:  Sam is slowly adjusting to his new life at Stanford University. He’s left his life of hunting behind, and traded it for endless studying and tests, but he’s plagued by dreams of Dean and Dad in danger, dreams of blood and violence. Then he meets Tyson Brady, who’s always there with a smile and a cup of coffee to get Sam through all-nighters. Sam’s dreams start to fade, but just as he’s getting used to a nice normal life, he starts to develop abilities—powers he can’t control. Brady thinks they’re great, but Sam knows power never comes without a cost. (14k, Sam/Brady)

Breathing, Talking, Dead Man Walking   -  John Doe, male, approximately thirty-seven years old. Subject was found by EMTs in close proximity to the site of a sizable explosion in Lebanon, Kansas. (2k, gen, Sam & Dean)

Venom:

Costume Party - Eddie and Venom are invited to a costume party at the museum. While there, they find a mad scientist in the dinosaur wing who is up to no good. (Symbrock, 5k words)

Reckoning Tartare with a Side of Tater Tots - Eddie Brock is writing a story about Will Graham, a man accused of horrific serial murders. But Eddie’s got a feeling Will is innocent, and somebody else is to blame. When Hannibal Lecter invites Eddie to dinner, Venom is surprised by the menu. (2k words; Venom | Hannibal crossover)

The End Times Are Here (But So Are We) - Eddie Brock crashes his motorcycle near Anathema Device’s Jasmine Cottage. She was expecting him, of course. Agnes Nutter’s prophecy had foretold his coming, just in time for the End of Days. (2k words; Venom | Good Omens crossover)

Asunder - (bigbang featuring art by @sdeeys and @vebirascanvas !) Eddie and Venom have grown accustomed to their new life together. They patrol every night, keeping San Francisco just a little safer, and keeping Venom fed. But one night, they’re captured, and separated. Eddie wakes up to find himself imprisoned in a glass cell and, for the first time in six months, completely alone.  (Symbrock, PG-13, 12k words; written for the @symbrockbigbang)

Midnight Snack - Eight hours is way too long to wait until breakfast. Venom makes snacks while Eddie is sleeping. Unfortunately the toaster gives them some issues. (3k words)

They Say It’s Your Birthday - Venom asks Dan to help throw a surprise birthday party for Eddie. (3k words | written for the chocolate box gift exchange)

Marvel/Captain America

Interstitial Light - After Thanos wiped half of life off the planet, the remaining Avengers find a way to reach out to those they lost, using a combination of Stark-Tech, magic and their own memories. Steve makes contact with Bucky, but they spent too many decades apart when Steve was on ice. But there was somebody else who knew Bucky during that time—who trained with him, who knew both the Winter Soldier and James Barnes: Natasha. | 6k, Natasha, Bucky

Stumble and Fall Into You   -   Three months ago, Steve’s world shattered. SHIELD had been infiltrated by Hydra, people he trusted turned out to be enemies, and Bucky, who he thought he’d lost in 1944, had been alive this whole time. Steve tries to get back to some kind of normalcy, but Bucky is always on his mind, and lately he’s been seeing him everywhere. | 5k, Steve/Bucky

—

The 17th fic I completed this year is my Sam Winchester Big Bang fic, which will be posting early next year. I’ve gotten paired with yet another wonderful artist (I think it’s still supposed to be a secret, but it won’t be for long) and am very excited about this collaboration too!

Might as well make this my end of year stats post as well while I’m at it.

Words so far: 247,305 as of end of November, I’ll probably come in close to 280k by end of year. About a third of these words were posted as fics, the rest were prior drafts and a handful of short stories.

Thematically this was a very cathartic and iddy year for me in fic. Venom fandom gave me the opportunity to tackle things in a totally different way which has been incredibly freeing and fun to write, and returning to Supernatural fic had me writing out ideas I’d had on the backburner for years, like with Wednesday and my aforementioned SWBB. Nearly every Sam Winchester fic I write is about autonomy (loss of or reclaiming of) in one way or another but I’d say the two iddiest ones by far from this year were His Soul to Keep and Last Drop. 

I’ve got four WIPs heading into 2020, so here’s to another year of writing!