#ofc the top fic is this perfect au fic that makes me actually read every line | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tyonfs · 3 years

Note

hi<3 i love your fics they are super good! i wanted to ask something hehe . could you (if you want to ofc!!) make a fic about mark? i mean like you are enemies with him but eventually u fall in love with him and the u guys dating but its almost full of angst then fluff and smut? its ok if you dont want to! i just wanted to ask this<3

author’s note: hello anon !! i’m sorry for getting to this so late 🏃‍♂️ but omg i hope you enjoy this little bullet fic tho! AND TYSM i’m so glad you like my fics 🥺💞

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

summary: competing with the bane of your existence, mark lee, for a letter of recommendation from the dean was bad enough. on top of that, he was now the manager at your new job.

genres: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, smut, crack, slight angst, coffee shop au, college au

warnings: profanity, sexual tension!! bc what’s e2l without sexual tension, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap!), hate sex, making out

finding out the dean only wrote a letter of recommendation for one student every year was probably the third worst news you could have received today

the first being the realization that the dean had to pick between you and mark lee

the second being that you were against mark lee

mark lee: the captain of the ice hockey team, the student body president, and the top student in the english department

he was also a smidge too attractive for his own good which made you want to pull your hair out

hot people with shit personalities should be a federal crime

but your gripe with him right now was that damn letter of recommendation

how Canadian Shakespeare was all buddy-buddy with the dean was beyond your understanding

maybe it had to do with the fact that he was the student body president and a perfect all-rounder student but you were appalled when you walked into her office to see her laughing at something mark said

this was just unfair; she didn’t laugh at your jokes

mark wasn’t even funny! he was just a kiss-up and you were infuriated

“take a seat, y/n,” she said, wiping at the corners of her eyes. “mark was just telling me the most hilarious little tid-bit about edgar allen poe.”

ah, yes. edgar allen poe. what a riot.

mark smiled at you as you took a seat next to him, but you saw past his fake smile

“hey, y/n,” he greeted cheerily

you returned the stiff smile. “hey, mr. president.”

douchebag, you thought bitterly. who was he to say hi to you? clearly he’s working against you. this is his evil plot to watch your downfall.

“so, as you two know,” the dean interrupted your delusional thought process, “i only can give one student a recommendation and you two are my top candidates.”

you were practically on the edge of your seat, hanging onto every word the dean was saying

“so i came up with the perfect solution to decide,” she said. “write me a short paper by the end of next week on why i should pick you, attach your resumé, and then i’ll decide.”

you and mark turned to each other, exchanging a look

this was war

“end of next week? you got it,” you replied, fired up

you were confident you would get it

plus, you could add your new job at the coffee shop to your resumé—the timing was perfect

when you and mark left the room, it was like a switch flipped in him

“good luck getting the recommendation,” he said, raising his brows at you. “you’re gonna need it.”

“oh, please.” you scoffed. “save the attitude for when i get it. now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m gonna go to my first shift. have fun with your hockey pucks!”

you stormed off, enraged

you were not taking shit from a dude named after someone from the old testament

okay, so maybe the world hated you

“what are you doing here?” you sneered

it was very clear what mark was doing here, actually

above his name on his name tag read manager, and you’ve never wanted to die more

“i’m here for work,” mark replied with a smirk. “excited for your first day, y/n?”

“not anymore.”

“come on, don’t be like that,” mark cooed. “sora here is gonna show you the ropes.”

the perky girl mark gestured to was enough to slap you out of your brooding nature and manage a smile for her

she looked you up and down and grinned. “let’s get you an apron.”

you sighed as she disappeared into the back room

mark leaned close until his lips met your ear before he turned to leave

your stomach twisted from what you thought was hatred, but it felt odd

he whispered, “by the way, don’t think i’m going easy on you today.”

you groaned when mark walked off

your day couldn’t get any worse

newsflash: your day got worse

who knew making a coffee could be so complex? what the hell was steamed? did people enjoy making their orders longer than the declaration of independence?

mark sighed heavily when he saw you struggling with the whipped cream

“let me show you how it’s done,” he offered

instead of demonstrating like a normal person, mark walked up behind you so that you were caged against the counter, and he placed his hand over yours

this isn’t weird, you tried to convince yourself even though it was very, very weird

“gentle,” he murmured in your ear, pressing against the nozzle to create the perfect dollop of whipped cream over the drink. “got it?”

your heart was going crazy. screw mark lee

“mmhm,” you hummed, not trusting yourself to speak coherent words

you had to remind yourself that this was your mortal enemy, and he was clearly playing mind games with you right now

“so what’s going on between you and our manager?” sora asked once mark had gone to work the register. “i could feel the sexual tension all the way from the blenders.”

“nothing at all,” you replied coolly. “we hate each other’s guts. he’s just trying to break me down, but i won’t back down.”

“that’s a bit dramatic. i think he just wants to fuck you.”

you choked on air, backing away from the drinks. “no way in hell.”

sora laughed. “i’m just saying,” she said, “he doesn’t do things like that to the other girls.”

“trust me,” you replied. “we hate each other. whatever that was is just him trying to get into my head and mess with me.”

sora shrugged. “if you say so.”

you honestly weren’t quite so sure yourself, but if this was just mark’s plan to throw you off your game, you weren’t going to fall for it

and if this was how he wanted to play, you had a few tricks up your sleeve as well

“i thought you said you weren’t coming to the party,” renjun said as he watched you apply lipstick. “what changed your mind?”

renjun and jaemin were currently sitting in the middle of your room while you were putting on your makeup to go to a party with them

it wasn’t everyday you dressed up this good, but tonight you were ready to kill

but nothing too severe because you still wanted that letter of recommendation

“mark lee,” you replied, eyes practically burning holes in your mirror with how intense your gaze was

“i thought you hated him,” renjun said. “now you want to go to a party for him?”

“exactly, renjun. he thinks he can mess with me so i’m going to fight back.”

“sounds concerning, but you look great, y/n,” jaemin replied, giving you a thumbs-up

you beamed, turning around and placed your hand on your chest in gratitude. “why, thank you, jaemin.”

“but, y/n, what makes you think mark’s trying to mess with you?” jaemin inquired

you raised a brow at him. “you two are his best friends. you know better than anyone that we hate each other.”

“right.” renjun snickered. “and that’s why you’re wearing that low-cut dress?”

“i plan to make my revenge sweet, huang renjun.”

“oh god, they’re gonna fuck,” jaemin muttered

“we’re not gonna fuck, jaemin!”

jaemin and renjun were under the impression that your target was mark

and he was, but you weren’t going to get to him directly

your plan was to get to him by other means: his friends

there was nothing mark hated more than his friends getting along with his foe

he already had to deal with sharing jaemin and renjun with you, so you figured his breaking point would be if you got closer to jeno or hyuck

but you didn’t even get to carry out your evil plan because mark walked over to you himself

well, that was easy, you thought

his eyes were on your dress, examining the way the material hugged your body

you’d be lying if you didn’t say you were a little intimidated. being under his gaze was a little nerve-wracking

“you’re up to no good,” he observed

you batted your eyes innocently. “what makes you say that?”

“you look stunning.”

that would usually be a compliment but mark made it seem like you needed to be behind caution tape

“thanks? i guess.” you scoffed. “i just dressed up more than usual today.”

“yeah, okay,” mark drawled and looked back over his shoulder, which you assumed was him checking to see if his friends were around. “can i get you a drink?”

hook, line, and sinker

“i’m not drinking tonight, but we can dance,” you offered, slipping your hand into his

mark raised a brow at the physical contact but pulled you over so that you both were closer to the mosh pit

mark didn’t let go like you did; his eyes were serious and studying you like he was trying to calculate your every movement

his lips brushed against the shell of your ear when he leaned in. “i have a feeling you’re up to something, y/n.”

“oh yeah?” you taunted. “like what?”

“i can’t tell if this is about the letter of recommendation,” mark said, “or if you’ve already noticed how badly i want to fuck you.”

maybe it was a good thing you didn’t go get drinks with mark

because you surely would have spit it out all over him

“you want to—what?” you asked, cheeks heating up when your voice started to fail you. “did i hear that right?”

no way. there was no way in hell mark lee thought about you in that way. not after the constant bickering and teasing and—

wait

yeah, no, that just sounds like sexual tension, y/n, you realized

maybe you were stupid for intentionally ignoring all the signs, but that didn’t change much because the guy still pissed you off

even though the feeling of his lips against your skin was absolutely sinful

and the way his thighs looked in those jeans made your head a mess

and his hands on your waist left his touch lingering and left you wavering

the moment was ruined, though, because someone had to bump into you and spill their drink all over your perfect dress

“i’m so sorry!” the person apologized profusely

“it’s fine,” you replied

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t frustrated. how were you going to mess with mark’s head when you looked like this now? plus, you were sticky and felt gross

mark tutted. “look at you.”

something about his tone, about the way he was looking at you, made your stomach flip

mark grabbed your arm and continued, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

you could only follow after him as mark pulled you into the bathroom, closing the door behind him once you were in

“okay, now—fuck,” mark hissed and averted his gaze when you started peeling off your stained dress. “what the fuck are you doing?”

“isn’t that what i’m here for? to clean this?” you asked with a scoff

mark grumbled something incomprehensible and simply manned the door

“you don’t have to keep looking away,” you added with a smirk

“you’ll be in danger if i look at you right now.”

your breath got caught in your throat at his words, but you huffed and continued, “mark, why the fuck do you think i even wore this dress?”

a muscle in his neck flexed and his eyes darkened. it was all so incredibly attractive to you so you didn’t mind when he locked the door and made his way over to you, taking in the way you looked in lingerie

“you’ve been messing with my head these past few days,” he growled. “showing up to work and then dressing like this.”

mark snapped the strap of your bra and traced the fabric down, running his finger over your nipple

you shivered, even more so when he pressed the lower half of his body up against you and placed his large hands on your hips

“you’re one to talk. do you know how i felt when i found out you were the person i was up against for that damn—” you were cut off, gasping as you felt mark’s hand slip into your underwear and slide two fingers against your slit. “h-hey! that’s not fair!”

“you’re wet,” he observed, “and you talk too much.”

“fuck you.”

“it’ll be my pleasure,” mark murmured before he leaned in, kissing you with a vigor you had never seen in him before

you were caught off guard but before you knew it, you were wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to pull him impossibly closer

mark was a good kisser, and it didn’t help that he knew all the right things to do that got you turned on

he held the back of your neck, tilting your head up so he could reach you better, and his fingers wouldn’t leave your slit alone

when his thumb moved to rub small circles against your clit, though, you had to pull back for air, whimpering at his touch

mark smirked and took this as his opportunity to kiss down to your neck

“i should’ve done this a long time ago,” he whispered against your skin before planting kisses along the column of your neck

mark’s hands moved to the back of your thighs and picked you up so you were sitting on the counter

“just fuck me already,” you groaned out, running your hands through his hair

“beg for it.”

“you’re such a prick.”

“i can stop.”

you whined and gripped his shoulder. “please, mark,” you begged, heat rushing to your cheeks at what he was making you do. “please, please, please fuck me.”

mark’s lips curved into a smirk. “that’s more like it.”

before you knew it, mark was ripping off your panties and unbuckling his belt

he must’ve noticed your shocked look when you saw how big he was because he grinned, grabbed the back of your neck, and pulled you in for a deeper kiss

you were so dazed from the taste of his lips, but snapped out of it immediately when you felt him push himself into you

“mark!” you gasped out, breaking away from the kiss to catch your breath once again

“f-fuck, you’re so tight,” mark moaned out, waiting for you to get adjusted and groaning whenever you clenched around him

when you got adjusted to his size, you met his eyes and mark immediately understood

he held your hips tightly and started thrusting, his merciless pace making you moan uncontrollably

“i fucking hate you,” you whined. “stop making me feel so good.”

mark moved one hand to clamp over your mouth. “quiet, kitten. we don’t want people hearing us, do we?”

you nodded, tears springing to your eyes and running down your cheeks as he hit that perfect spot every single time

your moans were muffled by mark’s hand but he got aroused each time regardless

his hand on your hip crept to press his thumb against your clit again, aiding his thrusts by stimulating you more

“c-close,” you whimpered out against his hand, and mark removed his hand just to hold your hips steady so he could go faster. “fuck.”

“you gonna cum for me?” mark cooed, leaning close to nip at your neck. “come on, y/n.”

you were at your limit

your climax washed over you and you came, crying out into mark’s shoulder as you were hit with intense waves of pleasure

mark was at his limit shortly after, groaning and pulling out so he could cum over your thigh

the both of you took a second to process what you had just done, and mark simply stared at you as his ragged breaths turned shallow

“you asshole,” you started, “we came here to clean me up and you made an even bigger mess.”

mark grabbed the dress you had strewn aside to slip over you again. “round two in the shower then?”

“this shower?” you asked, nose scrunching up in disgust

“my shower,” mark said. “let’s go to my place.”

you wanted to outright refuse him, but the sex was so good that you complied

mark’s driving was a bit concerning with most of his attention on you, but the both of you managed to make it to his apartment in one piece

he was ignoring his texts from his friends and you were ignoring yours, but you had no time to feel guilty because mark’s lips were on yours again

and round two was even better

now you found yourself in a dilemma

hooking up with mark once was fine and all

you both had your fun and sure, you didn’t follow through with your initial plan, but the sex was good

the problem was that it was too good

too good as in you hooked up with mark for six days in a row after that party

and you were currently making out with him in the back room of the coffee shop

too good as in you were starting to soften up to him

like he had gotten you both takeout the previous night

and you kissed him to say thank you

literally who does that?

and later he sent you a picture of his dog because he thought you’d like a picture of his dog

and fuck you, mark lee, you really did like the picture of his dog

you liked it so much that you added a heart reaction

and the night before that, he asked, “are you pissed off with me because we didn’t cuddle?”

he wanted to cuddle? he knew you wanted to cuddle? you wanted to cuddle?

you wanted to cuddle mark lee?

you also had to explain your whereabouts to renjun and jaemin

your friends were hellbent on finding out if you got together with mark or not, but you and mark had to keep your hookup under wraps

but that unfortunately didn’t stop you from accidentally blurting out that sex with mark was really good

but, to be fair, you were drunk so it wasn’t really your fault

plus, mark forgave you after you kissed him

this was a syndrome called Down Bad and you were not happy with it

what was this? rivals with benefits? acquaintances with benefits and downsides?

whatever it was, you were not happy

and you ended up pushing mark off of you

“what’s wrong?” he asked, looking concerned at how you withdrew

“what are we doing?”

mark straightened up, running a hand through his hair. “uh, making out?”

“no, like, are we just having fun until we go back to hating each other or what?” you asked. “because if you’re stringing me along, i don’t want to be part of it.”

“stringing you along? how am i stringing you along?”

“i don’t know, maybe you’re trying to get in my head because of that letter—”

mark cut you off with a frustrated sigh. “why is everything about that damn letter of recommendation?”

anger bubbled in your stomach. “how can it not be? that recommendation determines if i can apply to my dream grad school.”

“and you think it doesn’t make a difference to me?” mark asked. “why would i fool around with you right now when i could be writing my paper right now?”

“i don’t know!” you exclaimed. “i don’t know what you want from me. you already have the upper hand.”

mark put his hands over his face and groaned. “god, you really think i just want to play with your feelings and drop you? you know better than anyone else that i take what i deserve and leave behind what i don’t deserve.”

“what?”

“forget it,” mark grumbled. he backed up and made his way to the door, adding, “you’re working register.”

screw mark lee

screw mark lee for being against you for that damn letter of recommendation

screw mark lee for leaving you like this

and more importantly, screw mark lee for making you cry right now because you cared about him more than a stupid letter

you did a lot of thinking that night

well, you had to, because your letter was due the next day

but you thought a lot about mark said about deserving things

and frankly, you didn’t deserve this letter

you tried to cheat your way into knocking out your competition

even though that completely failed and you ended up catching feelings

but that was besides the point

you did a lot of thinking

and you weren’t sure if you came to the right conclusion, but it felt like the right thing to do

so you sat down and you started writing

it had been a week since you submitted your paper

you hadn’t spoken properly to mark since your argument at the coffee shop

sora had asked if there was something up and you ended up telling her everything

she assured you that he’d come back once he was done blowing off steam, but now you had to walk into your meeting with him and the dean

and you were nervous as hell

she was going to announce her decision and you had a feeling you knew who was going to get it

it was bad enough you had to sit through a meeting with mark during that, but did you really have to run into him outside her room?

“hey,” he greeted awkwardly

you froze for a second but greeted back, “hey.”

“hey,” the dean spoke from behind the both of you, a brow raised at how distant you two sounded

you balked and she walked past the both of you. “come inside.”

you and mark exchanged a wary glance before walking inside and sitting in the two seats in front of her desk

she grabbed two letters on her desk and handed one to each of you

“congratulations,” she said with a smile. “two letters of recommendation for the both of you.”

“what?” you and mark exclaimed, taking ahold of your respective letters in disbelief

“i’ve never had two students write papers on the other student, but i was impressed so i decided to give you both a recommendation this year,” she said

you turned to mark in shock. “you wrote your paper about me?”

mark was equally as shocked. “you wrote yours on me?”

“i had a feeling you didn’t plan to bring up each other’s achievements,” the dean said. “that’s all i have for you two, so again, good job.”

you thanked the dean before saying your goodbyes, but mark writing about you was still bugging you

“i told you i didn’t think i deserved it,” mark said once you two walked out of the dean’s office

“i didn’t know—god, i feel like such a bitch right now.”

mark smiled. “well, you kinda redeemed yourself back there. i didn’t see that coming.”

for the first time, you could confidently say mark lee’s smile made your heart swell

“hey,” mark started, a touch nervous, “do you maybe wanna grab dinner sometime? and go see a movie or something?”

“is that a date?” you asked

“it could be.”

“mark,” you warned

“okay, it is!” he admitted, smile widening. “go on a date with me, y/n.”

you broke into a smile, too. “well, how could i say no to mark lee?”

mark laughed and swooped in to peck your lips

you could practically feel the happiness radiating from him

“this calls for a quickie in the bathroom,” mark said

“absolutely not.”

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sharkneto · 2 years

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Hi! I just wanted to say that I’m a huge fan of your work!!

The first fic of yours I read, the first Christmas one, was so fresh and original. Ofc I’ve seen holiday fics before, but I went into it expecting Christmas carols haphazardly crammed in and the characterization all over the place. And thankfully, I was so wrong! It amazed me how well the jokes landed, how in-character you wrote Five and Klaus and Alison to be, and how well you wrote Five’s trauma (as a certified Five stan, the last one made me happiest :D). I wrote it down as one of my favorite tua fics, kudos’d it as much as I could, and thought that would be the end.

But it wasn’t.

I read the additional Christmas fic when you wrote it and I loved it! I savored every line and when I was done, thought, “this is such a good writer, I wish that I had more of their works to read.”

And. Then. There. Was. More.

Now, I don’t have an ao3 account for Reasons, but I do check the five hargreeves tag religiously. And half the time a new fic of yours came out, I would go, “sweet!!! It’s Sharkneto, this’ll be great!” The other half of times, I wouldn’t notice that your name was on it, and after as I went to see if the author had any more fics, I saw your name and thought, “oh cool, this was them!! That makes so much sense!!”

Even for the fic you wrote for the masked author event, I remember thinking how wonderful the writing was and thinking that it made so much sense that you were the one who wrote it when you unmasked yourself.

I kept loving every one-shot fic you wrote and hoping that there would be more to come. And then you started posting longfics, and I got even more excited.

“Crueler to remember” actually made me tear up, and I’m not one to cry over books or movies. It was amazingly written and I was on the edge of my seat, wanting more when each chapter ended. You aren’t the first to explore the concept of a hargreeves meeting five in the apocalypse, but your interpretation of how it would go was original and done marvelously. And young!five not remembering the events of the fic was handled super well (I usually despise when things like that happen in fics, but I adored the way that you wrote it).

“Searching for good times” probably has some of the best original concepts I’ve ever read in a tua fic. Allison seeing five’s hotel oblivion wasn’t boiled down to “oh wow five is traumatized let’s view all of his trauma on a movie screen” like I’ve seen done in other fics meant to discuss five’s post-apocalypse mentality and subsequent ptsd. It was beautiful, the laws of the hotel were explained amazingly, and it’s definitely in my top ten tua fics. And the aftermath was perfect; it was the perfect length, meaningful without taking up half the fic and boring the audience by having Allison spell out everything that happened in the fic.

“Holding it together” is a work of art. I’m serious. Writing a fanfic of a fanfic is a bold choice and you undoubtedly stuck the landing with this one. Words can not describe how interested I was in this concept, as I too have wondered how the canon hargreeves would react to seeing au-versions of themselves go about their lives, especially for that specific fic. It’s amazing, it’s original, and it deserves a reread from me ASAP.

I will admit, I have not read the sequel to “holding it together”, but that’s because I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to reread “holding it together” and then binge one of your works. I plan to do so soon, and I’m almost more excited to read “joining together” than I was for watching season 3.

Your characterization is impeccable (better than the actual show in many cases). The situations in which the characters examine five’s trauma are realistic but no less gut-punching. The relationships developed between characters in your fics are beautiful. Your analysis of five is one of the best I’ve ever seen. You are undoubtedly one of my top 3 favorite fic writers.

You’ve discussed how you wrote much of your fics before deciding to post them, and to that I say thank you.

Thank you for writing these fics, but more importantly, thank you for having the courage to post them. They have been a thrill to read :)

This is just so... incredibly kind and overwhelming for you to say. Thank you so, so much. I've already read it through multiple times and I don't really have words. I can't believe you've been poking in at my fics since the beginning. I write my fics for me, but sharing them has been an absolute delight and knowing peoIple enjoy them this much? Humbling and overwhelming. I wish I had better words to respond to this but, ironically, I am wordless.

Thank you <3<3<3

#don't mind me just going to keep rereading this while curled into a sappy little ball #nice things #this goes beyond the nice things tag it deserves it's own place it's just /so nice/#i work Really Hard to get the characters right so whenever anyone tells me they think they're shaped right I just die a little <3

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

Text

Title: Crown For Two {6}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, Slow Burn, PLENTY OF WORDS

Words: 7.1k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride continues. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a reminder, I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***VERY Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

***Picture Heavy***

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | {3} | {4} | {5}

-Y/N-

Standing in the middle of the sea of flowers, you felt as if you were in a field rather than the grand ballroom where that night’s gala was being held. The mixture of scents took you away and almost tricked you into believing that it was the prime of summer outside the fancy glass windows, rather than the dead of winter. You almost believed that the sun was beaming from the sky and warming the grass on the ground rather than the reality of the current weather.

The forecast foretold of a clear blisteringly cold night. What was actually happening outside at this very moment was much more than just a cold night. It was snowing again and hadn’t stopped. So far, the total snowfall was tipping twelve inches with more expected. Though this was the case, everyone said that the show would go on and the only way it would be canceled was if power was lost throughout Brexendor. Opening your eyes, you took a look around you at all the bodies swarming around placing the final items in the room.

Slowly you walked through it ensuring everything was perfect. This was your first time putting together something on this grand of a scale and you were in love with it. Money and a great space really made all the difference you thought to yourself. When you stepped into the designated hall and walked along the grand carpet you gave the final approval for things that passed and did what you could. At the top of the grand stone steps, you looked down and released a pleased sigh.

“Perfect.”

“I concur.”

Looking beside you, you found Jemma in a royal blue jumpsuit.

“Your--,” you began only to have Jemma give you a stern look and a high eyebrow.

“Jemma.”

A smile spread across her face. “As I thought,” she began looping her arm with yours. “You have done a marvelous job. Everything is so breathtaking and airy. I love it.”

“Yeah?”

Jemma nodded her head profusely. “I took a walk with Henry early this morning and even he was mystified by how well you did.”

A bubble of pride filled your chest. It felt good to hear.

“Thank you.”

“Hold that compliment dear, my brother does not shell them out easily or to anyone really.”

“Really?”

“Really. If you haven’t noticed yet, my brother, our future king is a bit of a stick in the mud. He rarely smiles, laughs, relaxes, or anything that isn’t related to work.”

“Has—has he always been that way?”

Jemma took a few moments to think then replied. “Not always. Ever since our father--,” Jemma’s voice drifted, and you easily filled in the blank. Since their father died.

“Well—he’s changed a lot more. Before that, he took a moment or two to smell the roses within moderation. Let’s say he’s always had the weight of a country on his shoulders, but that weight seems to be affecting him more since the death of our father,” Jemma finished.

You nodded fully understanding. He was under a lot of pressure. Most of that pressure he probably put on himself. You softly sighed and rewound Jemma’s words.

Future king.

Holy shit, you thought, he was going to become king of this country. You scoffed mentally slapping yourself for your thoughts the night before. Were you really about to drop your panties for a king?

“What are you thinking about?”

Jemma’s voice brought you back to reality.

“Nothing, just going over the checklist in my head that is as vast as this castle.”

“I think it is time to hand off the rest. You have done your best and your best is good enough. Everything else is for the staff and I am sure you have drilled what needs to happen.”

She was right. You’d had plenty of meetings with the entire castle staff as well as events staff that was brought in to assist. Everyone knew what had to be done and when it had to be done. You were an organized professional who hated surprises and had lost plenty of sleep to ensure tonight went off without a hitch.

“I was instructed to bring you somewhere,” Jemma added.

“Where?”

“Follow me please.”

Jemma led you in the opposite direction to the part of the castle that was quartered off from the public for tonight’s Gala. This rounded and led the path to the plethora of rooms in the castle.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You will see soon.”

Five or so minutes later you found yourself walking into a room that looked like a massive dressing room and spa. That was when you saw four racks of ballgowns just waiting to be touched and three people sitting patiently.

“What is this?”

You and Jemma approached the clothes and people just as they approached you.

“Your highness,” a man with his hair in a stylish and tamed mohawk and expertly done makeup said as he bowed to Jemma along with the other two people who were with him.

“Franz, how are you?”

“Blessed to be here to service the crown tonight.”

“Happy to hear it.”

“And who is this gorgeous creature?”

Jemma smiled widely again. “This is Xari, and she is our guest of honor, the mastermind behind tonight’s feast for the eyes and my new best friend.”

Franz approached you, took your hand, and proceeded to twirl you in a circle.

“My goodness, she is gorgeous with a body to die for.”

“Is she not hot!”

The two people with Franz swarmed you, circling you assessing you at every angle.

“Your job is to make her gala ready.”

“Of course, so from head to toe?”

“Yes,” Jemma confirmed.

“Consider it done,” Franz said snapping his fingers at his entourage who went into action.

“Uh—Jemma,” you began as they brought you away to the other side of the room to plop you in a beautician chair.

“Don’t worry Xari, you’re in full control. They work for you. Whatever you like and nothing of what you don’t,” Jemma assured.

“Don’t worry darling, you’re in good hands,” said the only woman in the entourage as she began to take a closer look at your hair.

“Jemma, I don’t think this is necessary.”

“My orders were to get you here and for you to enjoy yourself.”

“Whose orders?”

“Henry’s of course,” Jemma finished sitting beside you just as the door opened again bringing in Aneka.

She squealed as she hurried over to drop into the seat on your left side, “Queue makeover montage music!”

That was when it all started. The swarm got bigger and soon you were surrounded by at least six bodies who were all doing something different. Aneka was right, it really felt like you were having that makeover in the 90s movies that transformed the main character into a hotter version of themselves that was supposedly hidden under the ordinary. You wondered what you would come out on the other end. Would it be the super glam, can’t tell me nothing, barely recognize me pageant contestant or would it be the you were still you just done up?

The entire time the three of you laughed together, drank champagne, and told each other stories of your dating history. It was a lot of fun and the time allowed you to relax from the stress and pressure you’d put yourself under for the last few days. You were beginning to look forward to the events of the night. It was, after all, your very first royal gala and you wanted it to be unforgettable.

Four hours later, a few layers of makeup, and hairspray, you found yourself in a robe perusing the racks unable to make up your mind. All the dresses were gorgeous, yes, but none of them seemed like you. Either they were too grand, or they made you look like someone you weren’t. a knock at the door turned your attention there and in walked MacArthur, Henry’s driver, and assistant.

“What brings you here, McArthur?”

“I come baring gifts for Ms. Xari,” McArthur said answering Jemma.

You took notice of the large black box he carried.

“For me?”

“Yes, his highness ordered me to bring this to you for tonight.”

You looked at Aneka who had a huge smile on her face.

“Oh my god, your Pretty Woman moment,” she squealed.

Kissing your teeth, you rolled your eyes. She was too much. You hesitated for a few moments but in that time Aneka managed to take the box from him and bring it to a nearby table.

“Hurry up and open it or I will.”

“Aneka, I don’t think it’s right,” you began.

“He thought you’d say that, so he instructed me to give this to you first,” McArthur added holding out a black envelope with blush pink borders.

You slowly took the envelope and even slower opened it revealing a note card with details that were opposite the envelope that had writing over it.

-Xari-

I wanted to give this to you myself. I doubted you would have been able to refuse it then, but unfortunately, I was swept away to work. I have not had a moment to myself, and it is tragic because I really wanted to see your face as you opened this box. I assure you that accepting this is right and appropriate. These were picked with thought, care, and anticipation. Please accept this gift as a symbol of my growing fondness for you.

-Henry-

A smile slowly spread across your face and butterflies filled your belly. The man had a way with words. You reread your favorite line of the note. Please accept this gift as a symbol of my growing fondness for you. Pressing the back of your hand to your mouth, you tried to cover your smile that was only getting wider and wider with each passing second. You quickly put the card back in the envelope and held on to it so Aneka couldn’t snoop. Approaching the box again, you lifted the lid and revealed its contents.

The second your eyes took in the items you gasped. On a bed of blush-colored tissue paper that overflowed the box was a strapless white gown that looked like twinkling snow under moonlight. The details at the top of the gown looked similar to applique flowers leading down to the torso that was reminiscent of a star that went on top of the Christmas tree.

“Wow,” Aneka said filling in for your speechlessness.

“Way to go, big brother,” Jemma added.

Those of the entourage that was still in the room spoke in hushed tones of different things, the beauty of the dress, how expensive it looked, how perfect it was for you.

“Is it to your liking, Ms. Xari?”

‘Uh—uh—uh--.”

Aneka snorted and elbowed you.

“Uh, it’s—it’s beautiful.”

“Shall I send a message back to his highness?”

You glanced back at McArthur unsure what to say. What should you say? Was anything needed to be said? Nibbling your bottom lip you wracked your brain for a response. After almost a minute, you still couldn’t think of anything.

“Tell him thank you and she can’t wait for him to take it--,” Aneka began before you loudly cleared your throat drowning out anything else she was going to say. That only amused her more.

“Tell him thank you please.”

McArthur nodded, bowed his head then turned and left the room. Your eyes landed on the garment again and you chewed your bottom lip some more.

Another hour passed as you dressed and put the finishing touches onto the outfit Henry had chosen. When you stepped in front of the mirror to look at the finished product, you were alone and shocked by how you looked. You looked every bit the super glam, can’t tell me nothing, barely recognize me pageant contestant but you also looked like you. You definitely looked as if you’d added a few zeros to your net worth though. You couldn’t believe how perfect the items you wore were for you. the dress fit you like a glove and accentuated features you liked and even showcased some legs. Even the shoes that were underneath the gown in the box looked like you’d chosen them for yourself. It all fit your personality. It was hard to believe someone else had picked these items, hard to believe it was someone who you’d only known a few weeks.

“Madam Xari.”

You spun around to see Carolina, the queen’s royal personal assistant.

“Yes.”

“Her Majesty would like a word.”

“Oh is something wrong?”

“Not at all. Follow me,” Carolina said with a warm smile that assured you a little bit.

You nodded then followed her out of the room and down the hall. It took longer than five minutes to get where you were going and when you got there it was then you realized what a good choice the shoes were. Your feet felt as if they were stuffed into clouds rather than shoes.

“Right through here.”

Carolina scanned a badge then a metal door that looked close to titanium opened. You both walked through it and came face to face with the queen herself.

“Your majesty,” Carolina breeched.

You began to dip down into a curtsy, but she quickly stopped you, holding your arms in hers. “None of that.”

Cecelia looked over your body with wide eyes and a bright smile. “Wow, Xari. You look absolutely regal.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You’ve made a wonderful choice.”

You smiled and tried to not let her compliment go to your head. Picture a queen telling you that you looked regal.

“Um…I didn’t choose it. It was--.”

You quickly bit your tongue before the rest came out. If you told her that she might misunderstand. A soft smile graced her lips.

“Henry.”

She said it certainly as if she had no doubt. You began to wonder if he’d done this for others before. You knew princes and kings had women at their beck and call and had plenty of conquests, the information was littered throughout history. In seconds, you decided that he possibly had chosen gowns for the women he paraded around with. Slight disappointment settled in your belly, preventing the flight of the butterflies.

“He does have good taste. It looks made for you,” Cecelia added.

You nodded and kept your smile demure.

“Come. I have something for you.”

She looped her arm with yours and walked forward with you.

“What is this place?”

After three steps, lights flickered on down a long hall that had both walls on the right and left filled with display cases.

“This is the vault, and this is where we keep the crown jewels.”

Your jaw dropped as you gawked at all the jewels. There were diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and pearls, bracelets, necklaces, rings, broaches, clips, crowns. You couldn’t help but gawk at them with your face damn near pressed against the glass. They were all so stunning. Easily the room looked like it was packing over one hundred million dollars’ worth of jewels.

“Amazing isn’t it?”

“Amazing? I’d say that’s an understatement.”

Cecelia laughed and nodded. “I remember seeing it for the first time, it was the day after I’d married Cornelius.”

She sighed but still held a smile. “He brought me here and said everything here was mine, then he showed me his favorites. The family has accumulated plenty of jewels since the beginning of their reign. Ninety percent of these I have not worn. I stick to his favorites.”

She touched the jewels she was wearing, and a melancholic feeling filled you. She still loved him and missed him dearly. She cleared her throat and walked ahead a few feet then stopped.

“It only seems fitting that you get to wear something in here.”

“What!? No. I absolutely couldn’t.”

“You absolutely could, and you will. I had a selection in mind before but seeing that gown on you had made me change my mind.”

She turned to you and held out her hand waiting for you to take it. You did but not without hesitating. As you came beside her, she nudged her head to the case before her.

“It has your name written all over it.”

Like a magnet, your face dropped coming close to the items. “Oh my god, no this is too much.”

“I don’t think so. I think it is just right. Everyone present tonight has brought out their diamonds to show off and you should be no different.”

Cecelia opened the case and took out the blue velvet that the items laid upon.

“What do you think of them?”

You looked over the necklace, earrings, and tiara comb set and found yourself lost for words. Somehow beautiful seemed like an understatement for the items.

“They’re—jaw-dropping.”

Cecelia giggled and nodded. “There is no way my son will be able to focus on dignitaries and politicians. I think you will be the center of attention tonight.”

Your head spun to her to see a sly smirk on her lips as she held the items out to you. Wondering what she was insinuating, you took the items ignoring the way your hands shook. You were probably holding the value of a small country in your hands, and she’d handed it over as if it was nothing. As if she had no worry that you’d run off with them. Cecelia softly patted your shoulder.

“Worry not. Come.”

She lead you out the way you’d come and walked you part the way back to the salon all the while complimenting all the work you’d done for the gala and praising you like there was no tomorrow. Though you knew she was being kind, you didn’t get that she was being overtly so. You felt as if every word she spoke was genuine. When you parted ways, she gave you the classic upper-upper-upper class double cheek kiss then floated down the hall in her classic for Brexendor blue gown.

Once you were standing in front of the mirror again, Aneka who was dressed in her figure-hugging half-sleeved silver gown was the one to put the jewels on you.

“Oh my god, Xari! Look!”

When you opened your eyes you hardly recognized yourself. The jewels put you over the top. Every little girl imagined wearing a tiara and going to a ball with queens, and princes but here you were standing inside a castle, wearing a gown that looked like it cost a cool million, wearing crown jewels, and looking as if you belonged.

“Wow,” you breathed.

“You look so good. You look like a queen.”

You elbowed Aneka. “Stop. That’s probably a treason sentence.”

She snorted and came beside you. “Oh please, I look like a queen too.” She straightened the modest diamond necklace she wore and posed.

“I can’t with you.”

Before either of you could get another word out, one of the castle attendants walked inside to give you a final report as well as instructions from the queen. She wanted you to walk in with them. That was where you had to decline. Sending the attendant to deliver a message of your polite declination and alternative plan you left with Aneka to calm your anxiety that something was wrong.

After forty or so minutes of you calming your nerves with Aneka’s help, you settled into a corner to watch the opening tradition. A castle attendant unlocked the golden gate of the floral archway you’d thought up and faux snow began to fall from the ceiling. The line of guests let out a collective gasp that brought a wide smile to your face. From your spot, you watched as they all walked through the gate for their welcome pictures and flow up the grand stone staircase that was decorated with thousands of flowers. Every detail they passed you watched as they touched, giggled, and exclaimed to one another how grand it was.

“It’s a hit,” Aneka said nudging you.

Thank goodness, you thought before walking away with Aneka inside the first room which was to be the mingling room. Here refreshments were being walked around, hors d’oeuvres displayed, and other feasts for the eyes in almost every corner of the room. If it wasn’t a harp player expertly playing Beethoven, it was a life-size snow globe with a ballerina inside showing off her graceful pirouette and plie, it was another life-size snow globe with flying snow that changed shape every thirty seconds to replicate many different things like a swan, a Christmas tree, Santa, elves and so on. Everywhere you passed you overheard conversations about every display. They all seemed pleased. One thing was frequently said, it was new and fresh.

After about an hour of mingling, trumpets blared, and all the guests quieted down. A short video played on a lowered screen of Christmases past all centering on the royal family. You were able to see their interactions and the happiness in their eyes as they were all together. Jemma was right, Henry looked different in each video clip. He smiled more, not a lot but more. when the video ended the message on the screen was “Brexendor Welcomes You.”

Nice touch, you thought nodding to Aneka who also looked impressed. The guests applauded and cheered but only as the rich did. Quietly and reserved. From a balcony in the room, Henry, Jemma, and the queen took center stage with a spotlight on them. All the guests then either bowed or curtsied.

“Long live the royal family.”

You and Aneka exchanged impressed looks at the display of regimental behavior. They all looked and sounded like robots. Falling into line you and Aneka mirrored them.

“Rise,” Henry said.

When all eyes were looking ahead, Henry spoke again.

“Welcome diplomats, dignitaries, religious and military leaders, politicians. Friends.”

You smiled. That was your special touch to his speech. Everyone wanted to be thought of as a friend.

“It brings me joy to welcome you to Brexendor for this year’s Brexenavid. Our people welcome you with open arms, our country welcomes you with open arms, and I, my mother and sister welcome you with open hearts. Tonight, a feast for all senses has been prepared by an incredibly talented and creative individual for all of you to partake in. Enjoy your night and thank you.”

Again, the crowd applauded and talked amongst themselves. Aneka leaned to you then whispered, “Incredibly talented and creative individual. Get it!”

You rolled your eyes and gave her a stern look that said behave. She was always trying to drag you down into debauchery at the worst times. You couldn’t let her tonight. Aneka leaned to you again.

“He looks delicious, don’t you think?”

“Scrumptious,” you said without thinking as your eyes remained glued to Henry.

“Huh, honesty. Refreshing.”

You shook your head and tried to think straight. Tonight you had to keep your wits about you. As you and Aneka walked around the room taking in all the people who were there and their outfits you made a game of it trying to guess who each of them was and the types of personalities they had. The backstories that Aneka came up with for most of them were so insane she should have become a writer for a soap opera instead of becoming a social media manager.

“What about homegirl in the blue gown that plunges to show off her c-cups?”

You scanned the area and quickly found the woman Aneka was referring to. She stood at one of the tables with a martini glass before her. Her perfectly French manicured nails tapped against the stem of the glass all the while a perfect debutant smile rested on her lips. She looked as if she’s been groomed from birth to be this perfect blonde-headed Barbie doll.

“She’s clearly a debutant. She probably has a title; I don’t think she’s a princess. She looks like she can dance with a stack of books on her head without dropping any. She looks as if she has plenty of admirers and the man talking to her now is probably one of them. She has a lot of friends and is probably the leader of her friend group.”

“She looks like she doesn’t take any bullshit and might be difficult,” Aneka added.

“Madam Xari.”

You spun around to see one of the event attendants who proceeded to tell you about a mix-up in the sit-down dining room. After Aneka assured you she’d be fine you went off with the attendant to fix the problem. When you got to the dining room what they considered a problem was something easy for you to fix. It only entailed replacing one of the handmade floral wreaths that you’d had enough foresight to have fifty on standby as backup. It was a simple fix, but it was not quick due to how seamless you wanted the change to be.

Once the crisis had been averted, you made your way back to the mingling room but were stopped by Carolina.

“His highness and her majesty are asking for you.”

“Right now?”

“Yes. Everyone is inquiring about this year’s events coordinator. I think you’ve impressed them.”

You followed Carolina through the room and around bodies until you saw Henry in the distance. Once he came in clear sight, his eyes found you and that was where they remained. Everyone else in the room turned to white smoke and that smoke quickly filled the room and all you saw was him. It was so cliché. The way his eyes rested on you made every hair on your body stand up and all the butterflies in your gut take flight. He looked at you as if you were all he cared about and wanted. It would have been easy to rest assured in the look and all it possibly meant, but reality was creeping up your spine keeping you firmly grounded on the stone floors.

Once you got to the table he stood he was still all you saw though the white smoke around you slowly took human forms. Good lord, he looks good, you thought. The blue of his tux looked incredible on him especially since it was off set with the white of his shirt and his tie. He looked perfectly put together like a king.

“You look so great, Xari.”

Jemma’s voice brought you out of your haze, so you were able to look away from Henry’s captivating blue orbs. You dipped your head then slipped into a graceful curtsy. Those around all whispered among themselves.

“Rise darling, Cecelia said.

Looking at her she smiled brightly, as did Jemma. The only one not smiling was Henry. The look on his face was a pained, confused one. He looked slightly constipated.

“Eh-em, let us introduce the mastermind behind this evening’s gala. This is Ms. Xari Thornton, our Christmas angel.”

Everyone spoke in unison extending their hands to shake yours as they welcomed you.

“I must say Ms. Thornton—or is it Lady Thornton?”

It was the blonde in the blue gown from before that Aneka had you give a backstory. She stood beside the queen, and you noticed how perfectly her gown matched Henry’s tux. Part of you didn’t register it because nearly eighty percent of the people here wore blue, and you knew it was a form of respect seeing Brexendor’s colors were blue and white.

“Uh, no. Ms. Thornton.”

She slyly smiled and nodded. “What you’ve managed to put together is quite different from Brexenavid of the past. I almost didn’t know what event I had walked into.”

“I think that is a good thing. There is nothing wrong with bringing something new.”

“Not to say there is anything wrong with Brexendor’s traditions, right?”

You clenched your jaw. She was trying to put you in a bind. Scoffing softly you pasted a smile on your face. “Not at all. However, if traditions hold you back from experiencing anything new then wouldn’t that be a tragedy? In the words of one of the greatest rulers, if you aren’t moving forward, you are slowly dying.”

You saw Henry’s smile from the corner of your eye.

“Those are father’s trusted words,” Jemma disclosed.

“Yes, they are. How did you hear them?”

You looked back to Henry. “Another great ruler mirrors the same sentiments.”

Silence stretched and again everyone began to fade except Henry. Before you got lost in his eyes again you cleared your throat and looked around at the faces.

“If you all would excuse me, I’m going to leave you to enjoy your evening.”

You dipped into a curtsy again then backed away before turning and walking away into the crowd. Balling your fists you tried to ignore the effect Henry had on you but worried you wouldn’t be able to ignore it much longer.

You mingled around the room smiling at guests, saying pleasant hellos, and being dragged into conversations probably because you looked like someone of importance thanks to how you were dressed. Every so often you caught glimpse of Aneka doing the same, but she looked to be enjoying herself a lot more than you were. She looked right at home in the middle of a circle of men who all looked like they were on some eligible bachelor’s list. They all looked completely hypnotized. You didn’t blame them, your sister had it in her to hypnotize anyone.

“I don’t believe I have ever seen you here before.”

You turned to see a tall, dark-haired black man before you with piercing hazel eyes.

“Wow.”

He smiled widely and bowed his head. “I thank you, but I believe those should be my words.” He looked over you and bugged his eyes. “My compliments to the designer and condolences to every woman in this room who has realized they pale in comparison to you.”

Sweet talker, you thought. “Thank you—I think.”

“You are very welcome. Would you like to get a drink?”

You thought about it for a moment then nodded. It seemed harmless enough. The gentleman walked beside you leading you to the bar area that was decked out with ice sculptures. Once there he ordered another whiskey for himself and allowed you to order for yourself.

“Whom may I say I have the pleasure of drinking with?”

“Uh—Xari.”

“Xari. What a unique and beautiful name.”

“Thank you.”

“Xari of Brexendor?”

You shook your head.

“Xari of Sandvell?”

“Nope.”

He smiled but didn’t look annoyed, instead, he looked intrigued.

“No? Then please enlighten me.”

“Xari of America.”

The gentleman widened his eyes, the shock clear on him.

“America? Well goodness. What in the world are you doing all the way here? Did you come here on purpose?”

You snorted and shook your head. “No. It’s a long story.”

The bartender placed your drinks before you then walked off.

“We have all night.”

You studied him for a moment then gave him the CliffsNotes of your recent ordeal leaving out that you were staying in the castle or knew the current monarchy. As you told your tale, he looked more and more interested in every word you said. He never looked bored, or as if he was only listening for his own means. You appreciated it.

“Wow, what a story. I can’t say that I am sorry you’re stuck here though. If you hadn’t been here tonight I would have been forced to smile and laugh with all these people who are only here to kiss the ass of the soon-to-be king. Everyone wants Brexendor as a friend rather than an enemy.”

“Does that include you?”

He shrugged and finished his drink. “Friend or enemy makes no difference to me, but the most important fact is I am a friend to Brexendor.”

You nodded then spun your head back to him, realizing you didn’t know his name.

“After telling you all of this, I realize I don’t know your name.”

He smiled and held out his hand. “Albee.”

You shook his hand and exchanged pleasantries then continued chatting for several more minutes. He sounded like a nice guy and the fact that he was also gorgeous didn’t hurt. For a split second, you thought Aneka would look great with him and made a mental note to get his number and give it to her. Maybe if she had her own fling she would lay off of you.

Before long everyone began filing into the dining room ready for the seated dinner portion of the evening. Somewhere in the crowd you lost Albee but found Carolina who brought you to Henry who was adamant about you sitting with the family and wouldn’t hear a word of your protest. You took your place beside Aneka with Henry in full sight. Everyone stood and waited for Jemma, Henry, and the queen to sit as per customs. Once the three did everyone else followed.

“I didn’t expect to sit with them,” Aneka whispered.

“Me neither.” Part of you felt out of place as you knew others were wondering why you got to sit with the family as opposed to any of the others who were actually VIP of the evening.

As dinner progressed, the chatter turned to how beautiful the decorations were and how everyone felt as if they were in a tropical Christmas Forest. The feedback was heartwarming because it was exactly what you were going for and you’d hit it out of the park. You’d never had any formal etiquette training, but you knew good manners from no manners and managed to keep up with the royals. It was slightly nerve-wracking because you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself or the kindness of the queen.

Halfway through dinner, your eyes met Henry’s again as he raised his spoon to his mouth. He smiled and politely bowed his head to you before he looked away to give his attention to the others around him. A strange feeling filled you, it was one you didn’t quite understand. The best you could describe it was a feeling of being rejected. It was stupid and completely irrational, but you couldn’t shake it. Rather than have the feeling take over you did your best to keep your eyes on your plate and your attention on Aneka and those nearest you who pulled you into conversation.

After the ten-course dinner, everyone followed Danglishtons to the ballroom where the events would finish off. Henry walked ahead first, followed by Jemma and his mother close behind then a handful of older men and you and Aneka behind them. To your right, you saw the pretty woman dressed in blue again. She glanced at you with icy eyes and gave you a once-over before looking away. You weren’t an idiot; you knew when a woman was snubbing you. Ignoring her, you focused on the others around you who took in the ballroom and expressed their pleasure with it.

Keeping your arm looped with Aneka’s you fell away to the side of the room to watch whatever was about to unfold.

“These rich people sure know how to spend a night,” Aneka whispered making you giggle.

“I’m tired already. I don’t know how Jemma does this on repeat. My cheeks and jaws are killing me.”

“Just know you are standing out to quite a few of these people. So many are wondering just who you are to be wearing the Darling Set.”

“The what?”

Aneka nodded to the diamonds you wore.

“The Darling Set?”

“Apparently the queen has never taken it out or worn it, so it was last seen on the previous queen who wore it to all openings for Brexenavid,” Aneka enlightened.

“Wow, you’re well informed.”

“Of course, it’s always been easy to pry information from people.”

You had no idea what you were wearing had so much symbolism. You then began to wonder if the queen knew what giving you the items to wear would start. She didn’t come across as oblivious.

“I think the queen knew just what she was doing when she gave them to you to wear,” Aneka said like she’d read your mind.

“I found you.”

The man from before, Albee approached you both.

“Yes, you were lost for a while. Welcome back.”

Albee looked at Aneka then did an elaborate bow to her. “Greetings to you.”

“Greetings right back,” she replied with a slight head bow.

“Aneka this is Albee. We met earlier. Albee this is my sister Aneka.”

Albee took Aneka’s hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Aneka.”

She giggled and nodded. Looking between them you could tell the attraction was mutual. The chances of at least Aneka getting her rocks off while being stuck here seemed good. For the next few minutes, the three of you chatted and laughed together as if you were old friends which was refreshing. Albee proceeded to point out who was who in the ballroom while giving a little information on each of them. It was amusing to both you and Aneka that the game you’d played was more than half accurate. You’d both been right about most of them.

After one complete walk around the ballroom with Albee filling you in on those you passed, you stopped for a glass of champagne near one of the windows. Glancing out, you saw it was still snowing and wondered if all these people would be able to leave after the events.

“The opening dances,” an announcement declared.

Henry led his mother onto the dancefloor and began dancing to the orchestra’s rendition of Swan Lake. His head remained high and back straight as he twirled her around. They both moved as if they’d done this dance hundreds of times and could do it without even thinking about it. With every turn, his mother remained as graceful as ever. They both gave off the pure regality and by looking at everyone’s faces you could tell they all respected them both.

After Henry and his mother bowed and curtsied to the crowd he took Jemma for her turn on the dancefloor. They looked equally matched in moves neither better at it than the other. You began to wonder how many hours of ballroom dancing they had both taken instead of being outside playing or even hanging out with friends. You felt sad for them thinking their lives were so restricted all because their paths were meant to lead here.

“The Dance of Harmonies,” came the announcement.

“What is that?”

“That is the last official dance anyone in the royal family is obligated to perform. Normally the king, in this case, the king to be will choose a woman in attendance for the dance. Usually, the women that have been chosen were all daughters of politicians or dignitaries from neighboring countries, and so forth. It was a political strategy that was used by the ministers to begin accords with a country or secure them,” Albee explained.

“So more than likely he will follow his predecessors and choose accordingly,” Aneka surmised.

Albee smiled then shrugged. “Quite possible, however, you never know with this prince.

You were so busy listening to Albee’s words you’d lost Henry while he looked through the crowd. As you rose your glass to your lips to finish the champagne you saw a hazy image of someone approaching you. In the middle of your third gulp, you felt an elbow to your ribs and heard Aneka clear her throat. Lowering the glass, you looked at her. She nudged her head forward. You came eye to eye with Henry who stood there with his hand held out.

You nearly cursed and had to bit your tongue so you didn’t.

“Would you do me the honor of a dance, Xari?”

Bugging your eyes you remained there hoping he could read your eyes. Henry smirked but didn’t budge, he just stood there patiently waiting for your decision. You couldn’t turn him down with all these eyes and already wagging tongues. You took a deep breath, handed Aneka your glass then took his hand. Henry squeezed it firmly as he led you to the center of the ballroom. You felt all the eyes on you and the majority of them felt like daggers. You took your places before each other and waited. You had no idea what to do. More than likely this was going to be a formal dance and your repertoire of formal dances only registered two.

“Trust me,” Henry whispered loud enough for only you to hear.

You took one last breath and watched him bow to you. Mirroring his, you curtsied then waited a few seconds. When the music began Henry pulled you to him and took lead. Within the first few moments, you recognized the dance he’d led. Relief filled you as you began to relax a little knowing this one.

“There you go. Relax, the daggers are meant for me not you,” Henry whispered in your ear before he sent you out for your first twirl. The bodice of your dress swirled around you creating a beautiful sea of sparkling fabric. The crowd applauded. Henry wrapped you in his arms again and continued.

“So you feel them too?”

Henry dipped you back almost touching the floor before he pulled you up and turned you around the room.

“I do. I expected them. I am after all breaking decades-old customs with this dance.”

You glanced at the side of his face. “Because I am not a dignitary nor politician’s daughter and hold no weight to bring countries together? If that is the case. Why choose me?”

Henry finally looked at you before he spun you out again. You stood still and waited for him to approach. When he did he circled you once then stood beside you with his hand out waiting for yours. Once your smaller one was in his, he led you forward then backward before he turned to you to continue your turn around the room.

“Because I have wanted to see you all day. I have wanted to talk to you, touch your hand, smell your scent, and have you close since the second I woke up. Any hopes the ministers had of me falling in line jumped ship once you walked to me a few hours ago.”

Breathless and speechless was what you were. The man had the best way with words. It didn’t matter if he were talking to a country or one woman. Again Henry dipped you. When he brought you back up you gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Forgive me for taking so long to tell you how utterly spellbinding you look this evening. Through my nervousness of speaking to you, I could not get the words out.”

Dear god, you thought. This was probably the stupidest thing you’d done in all your life. You’d just fallen in love--with a prince, nonetheless.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@caramara3 @chaneajoyyy @caplover22 @queenoftheworldisdead @liquorlaughslove @shinebrightlikeafanbase @night-of-the-living-shred @dangerouslovefanfic @areubeingserved @maxcullen @jovanaprime @pananegra @bakarilennox @littlepreciousangel @shar74nett @pananegra @laketaj24 @blackgurlkillinit @maeleeme @live-laugh-love-ki @mary-ann84 @mery-be

@jamesbarnesappreciationclub @momobaby227 @naturalthrone22 @emjayewrites @kikimiyazaki @minton131 @aar-journey @sincerelyglowing @theonewithherheadintheclouds @livinglifeformemyselfandi @kittykatlow @mauvecherie @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @angrybirdcr @winchwm @alyxkbrl @rn7rocks @thesecretlifeofdaydreams

@simply-heaven @winchwm @maximumninjavoid @offrostandstarlight @angrybirdcr @maxcullen @xsweetdellzx @sausagefest1996 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @bellaamor88 @alyxkbrl @hello-therree @mery-be @that-chick212 @smuttywriter @ljstraightnochaser

@mrsbarnes-rogers @melanicia @live-laugh-love-ki @deadpixie22 @asiaaisa77 @queenshikongo3 @queenreignssupreme @cltex84 @helenasmirkedno @areubeingserved @petty-bitch-akira @rynabarnesrogers-reading @themeforanudebeach @i-just-like-fanfics

@october505 @msblkfire84 @msbrightsidestuff @youremysuperstar @storiestoldbyjazz @themeforanudebeach @i-just-like-fanfics @titty-teetee @wellthirsted @t3mporaa @jd-now-jq @libbymouse @queen-zelieonna @abschaffer2 @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @ramp-it-up @kianya-loves @cutiebubbleboo @koko-michelle @keytodespair

#crown for two fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #black fanfiction #henry cavill au #slow burn fanfic #royalty #cheesy christmas fic #cft6

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mallowstep · 3 years

Note

i don't think you have to tag every post about the human misty au with the cults/etc tag. just the posts that like... explicitly mention that stuff. even stuff with tigerstar! if it's not a post with cult or abuse etc mentions, you don't really... have to tag that. and if people in the main character tags see the post, they Still can't be mad about anything bc... they have the human misty au tag. that tag's right there.

you can def tag certain triggers for people if you feel you have to (you're not obligated ofc yeah) but it shouldn't stop you from also tagging the way you usually do.

yeah. i think like. i mean. okay. sorry i'm going to ramble in a way that's in response to what you said but not necessarily Directly.

so imo, i think writing content warnings up top and using a read more is appropriate and sufficient. that's what i do on ao3. actually that's like. a good analogy imo. that's how cws work on ao3, for anything that isn't a major archive warning.

(yes, ao3 has tags you can use in the additional tags section, and i'm not saying it's a perfect analogy, and i'm not going to get into my opinions about cw etiquette on ao3. it's very different than on tumblr and we're not discussing that now.)

but what is relevant is that i've been on ao3 for a long time, and active on fandom/fic tumblr for not very long. (last time i was active, i was doing classpect analysis for homestuck. ask me about the aspect wheel.)

so that's like. how i think things work/should work. you know?

it's not like i'm not sensitive to triggers and squicks. it's just like. idk quite how to word this well but i feel if i've given you an alert, then you should be able to make up your mind on whether or not to engage based on that.

(this is all predicated on me being good about that. i know there's discussions about how cws are a New Thing and kind of a Courtesy more than an expectation, they have become an expectation and i think that's a good thing. anyway so if i forgot to include a warning please (politely) yell at me about it.)

right so. that's my opinion. that's my stance. obviously. if it wasn't my stance it wasn't what i would be doing.

like i said, there's a part of me that takes a bit of Personal Offence to the specific wording of the original ask about the matter, but i believe i correctly interpreted it as meaning "i don't want to see this content, please give me a tool to do so"* rather than "i legitimately think a character tag should only be for fanart" and DEFINITELY rather than "i legitimately think a character tag should only be for feel-good fanart"

* okay, the original ask was more, "i don't want to see this content, please don't put it in front of me," but we've already moved past the fact that i think asking me to do that is unreasonable, so there's no point in belabouring it.

anyway.

the thing is like. i Feel I Have Done My Job. with the exception of warning for cults*, i have told you what to expect. sexual assault. child abuse. public humilation. etc.

* the reason Why i wasn't has to do more with the fact that it's...while it fits the bite model of a cult, and inarguably is a cult, it's. well the thing is it's a christian fundamentalist group. anyway i don't want to. i'm not arguing that it is Wrong and Incorrect to tag it with cults i just initially wasn't for reasons to do with cultural perceptions of christian fundamentalist groups in the us.

so like. i think i've done my job, i've given you the tools.

however.

it is very easy for me to add tags to posts. so. it's kind of like. very little loss for me, large potential gain for someone else.

i am not going to stop tagging them with the main character names because i don't think that's. i don't think that's a reasonable request.

i went thru bramblestar's tag with recent, and it's a mix of bramble designs, humour stuff, and people being anti-bramblestar. (never change.)

i don't really. bc of leopardstar's honour i don't really want to go thru a lot of relevant character tags here. um. what's a good choice. tigerheart? yeah let's do this again w tigerheart.

art (neutral/positive): 10

text (not serious): 2

text (fic/serious): 1

text (analysis): 1

text (negative): 3

other: 18

now, these categories were pretty loose but like. i mean. i don't know what i'm getting at here. "other" is a mix of other cat art, text posts with him mentioned in the tags, and stuff with him but not in a way that's relevant.

and ig what i'm saying is. it's like. what. 41% Not Art. and this isn't about me being petty, i'm trying to get to a point about like. i just think that the expectation that a character tag is art is not backed up by community trends.

so. no. i'm not going to Stop Tagging them. people are welcome & encouraged to blog the au tag and/or me if they want to Not See It.

but. it's not hard for me to add tags in. i can't promise to be perfect, but i'm willing to try.

#ask #anon #misty au tagging #mine

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jinlix · 4 years

Note

✨ for miss belly hehe 🖤

omg I had to look for your masterlist bc it's not like I remember my top 10 fics from you or whatever 🙄 anyway we be simpping, let's get this top 10 already. In that specific order bc you know it already.

words unspoken: best hyunjin fic ever written, I don't care what u say. Don't come at me saying "you know I wrote it in one sit, right?" Bc yes I KNOW and still you made me sob with everything in it. I still cry abt it every time I read it, it's just perfect. The way u knew me before we even talked? Just magical. "Can I choose/pick?" Will FOREVER hunt my dreams and my whole life and honestly that's what I deserve.

define it: it's here but it's, in fact, #1 just like WU. and again, I can't tell how much I love it without mentioning the fact I cried bc yes sobbing is like a level to love something for me and u know I did. The grocery shop scene will never leave me bc it's just the purest thing ever, I'm obsessed with the night movie part so much it's too much for me to handle but just bc I'm in the mood to cuddle with him like 24/7 and the kiss...... you know this is the best kiss I've ever read and yeah I'm exposing myself here but whatever, I love it I need it we stan. Doesn't matter what he said, he's my star.

bloom.mp3: JUST. U KNOW. I think about it a lot, the whole dj!au is my life and there's somethin about how pure and s*xy this fic is that just kills me, I love it. I love college!au and I loved seeing you writing this one, one of the best kelby moments ever, really.

metronome: I know..... soy was originally here but I'm feeling metronome so much these days. I LOVE the final scene of this one specifically, and that says a lot bc you know I always love the way u end your fics but there's something so cozy and comfy and f2l here that just makes me feel so many things. I love it.

misfits: no I still haven't read youngblood but I'll NEVER give up about my queen misfits. You know, she's probably the one fic of yours I read the most (besides the hyunjin ones ofc) and just fml I LOVE minho's and y/n's relationship here more than anything. I love ??? The beginning so much ??? The way they met each other is so casual and that pizza scene FML I LOVE IT. SO MUCH. The dialogue is everything to me, the way he asks the "do you want me to?" just always gets me and listen I read this fic like +5 times lmao. Also the minsung, everything is perfect. I really love it. Cried too but u know it already.

set on you: I'M SORRY SOY actually she was up there I'm just feeling misfits kinda of fic more ig.... the places change (not hyunjin's tho) but the fics doesn't but you know what makes is so hard to put soy here? The car scene. YOU KNOW IT. it's like she's hunting me and everything abt that one scene is judging me right now so yeah I'm begging for pardon but I also absolutely love everything about soy. She does owns my heart and so does the whole space metaphoric ending u nerd

beautiful stranger: it's a kelly list if we don't have lix but the fact that this fic actually SUCH trope I love is everything to me (actually, remind me to reread it again pls tks) I love drama kid!lix I LOVE THE KISS SO MUCH. the desperation. the love. everything is just I love. And on a side note I LOVE HYUNJIN HERE!!! Best boy pls be my bff thanks

part cup: the one fic I read when I was having such weird time and I still can't deal with it, ofc, tears were shared. Again I LOVE the kiss scene, there's like something abt the pool that just makes everything so,,,, u know,, 🥺 I love it here.

It's knot you: aaaaaah the first ruby fic I've ever read, just perfect. It's the twisted soulmate au that got me in love with ur writing but everything else made me l*ve you too ig :/ so yeah forever thankful for that one.

Honorable mentions: sacrifice (probably the one I cried the most reading... i hate u but also don't.), free fall (and I hate to admit how much hyunjin and his 3 lines distracted me here but he did), strawberries, chateau and ready or not 😳

And I'll just add here the edits too bc you know only the best for u whatever anyway: hyunjin bday, lix bday, the aesthetic here, my pretty hyunlix one 🥺 and u know why this one ;)

send me ✨ + your creations tag & I’ll answer with my top five favorite edits of yours!

#crazy how I'd talk abt ur fics for hours #I'm aware the 'for miss belly' might be you asking for my faves from me #but i hope u know I'll get every opportunity to hype you so this is ruby only love zone #deal with it ok.#yes I was being sarcastic everything I said in this head is bc I remember your fics way too well..... don't @ me #葵花 🌻#ask #I'll finish these tomorrow !! ruby's essay drained me ruby don't interact with this tag

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the-fiction-portal · 6 years

Text

A Dog’s Day

A/N: Yall I have no self-control I have a shit ton of stories I should be working on but I could not resist writing a Bucky fic. I just felt inspired after stumbling across this and I was like, ‘this sounds like a perfect au’ and was like ‘what if I used a dog’ and that's how I got a Modern AU w/Bucky and his dog.

Paring: Bucky x OFC

Word: 4419

Summary: Aria, a woman who spends her free time fostering kittens, has been noticing for the last week she’s been getting a dog visitor in her yard. Curious about who the owner is she writes a note and sticks it in the dog’s collar to alert the owner of the dog’s escapism. What happens when the dog returns with a new dog tag and a return note?

--------------------------

“You’re doing such a good job, Frodo,” Aria coos at the tri-colored corgi who was playing gently with some of the kittens she was fostering. It warmed her heart to see her dog being so gentle with the kittens and it was especially nice because the kittens would have experience with dogs when getting adopted out.

The kittens were nestled against the dog as they sought out the warmth. The dog in question was resting happily beside the kittens, his little nubby tail wagged at the praise.

Eventually, the peace in the house turned into chaos as it was time to feed the animals. Having a home full of animals at any given time made scheduling very important. If they were newborn kittens that needed to be fed near constantly she fed all animals roughly the same time every day 8am was breakfast, 12 was lunch, and dinner time was 6.

“What is it Frody?” she calls to her dog who was sitting patiently by the door leading to the backyard. It would be that Frodo had to go outside, the only task that she hated as a dog owner. Going outside in the cold was the last thing she wanted but she had no other option

“Alright, Frody. Let’s go,” she grunts as she gets up from the couch sounding very much like a middle-aged lady even if she is only 30.

Unlocking the screen door she lets her corgi run free trampling into the first snow of the season. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough for Sophie shut the door and watch her dog safely from the inside.

“He’ll let me know when he’s ready,” she reasons out loud knowing the dog well enough to where he’ll scratch at the glass to be let in so she heads back to their couch to watch a little tv. That is until she heard Frodo’s excited barking.

She hurries to grab a coat and opens the door to see a very familiar dog climbing her fence. She didn’t consider putting a privacy fence mainly because Frodo was so short and she herself didn’t see herself using the backyard as often. But with recent events it almost made her want to consider it. After all, what if it wasn’t a cute mischievous dog who climbed her fence but an intruder?

“Well hey, Ninja dog,” she slides the door close and walks over to the dogs who were running around the yard. For the past week, every day like clockwork, this dog has snuck into her yard. It was always after lunch and she couldn’t resist giving the young dog a treat before he went on his way.

The dog stops and bounds over to her, tail wagging excitedly as she goes in to pat the dog’s head Frodo was hot on their heals. “Who do you belong to?” she asks the dog as if it would suddenly start talking. Judging by the coat and the blue collar the dog was obviously a cared for dog. She was quite charmed by this dog, it was a beautiful husky, with black fur and piercing blue eyes and he was very energetic so she was sure it was still pretty young.

“Alright, alright,” she giggles when the dog jumps up excitedly and whines for food. She didn’t think to grab any treats before coming outside.

“Stay,” she held her hand out to the dog who waits patiently while she ran inside for snacks. After feeding them some jerky snacks they start excitedly running and playing with Frodo. She was happy the ninja dog got along with Frodo and perhaps this is why she didn’t try to do anything to keep the dog out yet.

‘Dear owner, Are you aware of your ninja dog wandering the neighborhood? They’ve been coming in my yard every day for a week. They have a collar but no way to contact you. I decided to voice my concern because they could stumble into a yard where they’re not welcome. Please give your dog a tag and keep them safely inside.

From, Friendly Dog Lover’

As the dogs played she took the time to write a note to the owner of this husky and by the time both dogs were panting it was easy for her to slip the folded note into one of the loops in the collar. Eventually, the dog makes their daring escape and scuttles over the fence and just like that they were gone.

“Well, Frody. Let’s get going before the kittens destroy the house,” she tells her dog.

It wasn’t exactly true, the kittens were maintained in a smaller room in the house and every day they got time to explore the rest of the house, it was the only way to contain the chaos. After Frodo actually went potty, she enters the house with the dog.

---------------

Aria loved working from home. Once she did what she had to do for the day she had some time to focus on the kittens. She had recently uploaded new photos of the kittens on her blog and links it directly to the website of the local shelter she was fostering for. They were big enough to be adopted out now as she only ever tended to tiny or sickly kittens that the local shelter didn’t have time or resources to tend to as closely. Soon, she’d have to say goodbye to these little kittens and receive someone new.

A scratch at the window startled her and Frodo who jumped to investigate. Aria goes over to the blinds and slides them open to reveal the husky was back. She’d not seen them in a few days she thought the owner got the hint but now the dog was back she got mixed emotions. She was happy for Frodo who seemed more than happy to see his friend again but sad because the owner was careless again. Still, she grabs her usual treats and notices two things immediately. One the dog had a tag, two there was a note attached to the dog.

She kneels to pet the dog who licks her cheek happily making her smile and pet the adorable pooch and she notes the tag again and it was a lot of writing on it so she takes the time to read it, maybe she would know what to call them other than Ninja dog.

“Hi, I’m Luca. I’m not lost, just visiting,” she reads out loud and grins. Luca was a pretty name.

She turns the tag over and was surprised to see more than just contact info. “If I look hurt or scared, call James Barnes,” she reads out loud and underneath was what appears to be a phone number. Finally a somewhat proper tag, she could sigh in relief.

Luca whines and shuffles his feet as he sniffs for the treats.

“Ok, Luca. Here you go,” she tosses it and the dog catches it in his mouth, crunching excitedly. Not to be left out she gives Frodo some too.

‘Dear Friendly Dog Lover, I am so sorry about Luca. I had just moved a week ago and I did not think to check the fencing in the yard before I let him out. It was a great place for him to roam and play while I attempt to slowly unbox my house. Apparently, there was a loose panel in the fencing where he was able to wedge himself through. He’s still a pup so I guess it’s no surprise he’s slim enough to fit. The fence is fixed so the little escape artist shouldn’t make any surprise visits I let him out on purpose so you can see his tags. Also, I’d like to meet at the nearby park to meet you officially to say thanks, I don’t know many people so meeting a fellow dog lover is top of the list. The number on Luca’s collar is my cell, if you’re interested, text me with a day and time that works best for you.

From, James Barnes’

She had read the letter twice over and eyed the dog who had dropped in a playful crouch. Since the snow had long ago melted and the grass is dry she adds to their fun by tossing a ball around and watching the dogs zoom up and down trying to catch the ball first. She praised Luca when he came back with the ball but it was a 50/50 shot of him actually letting go of it. Frodo had to correct the younger dog a few times whenever Luca got the ball and eventually both dogs were playing nicely.

Eventually, the ball no longer amused them as Frodo laid out in his tired sploot and Luca was panting beside him. She gives the dogs water before Luca makes his move to go home.

“Well…guess I better give Luca’s dad a text,” she answers as she heads back to her home. She had saved the number as ‘James Barnes: Luca’s Dad’ and was able to find it with ease.

Hello. This is the friendly neighborhood dog lover. I received your message, I’d love to meet you and Luca officially. He’s a very good boy and enjoys playing with my dog, Frodo. So if you don’t mind I’ll bring him with me. Also, any time on Saturday I’m free.

James Barnes (Luca’s Dad): I’d love to meet your dog especially if they get along. Is 1pm Saturday okay?

Sounds great. See you then.

With the date and time set the only thing Aria can do is wait. It was only Tuesday, she had a long week yet to go.

Aria spent the rest of the week wondering what James was like in person. With a name like James she had to assume he’s a guy, she's never gone out of her way to meet up with a guy that wasn’t business related in a long time. She hoped he was nice, especially if he’s in the neighborhood. She kinda just politely greet the neighbors when she saw them outside, but having a genuine friend in the area would be a new experience.

Saturday morning she awakens as usual with a storm of emotion shuddering through her. She was excited because the kittens were graduating to their new home. Or rather only two of them were going to be adopted today, the other two will be going to the shelter where they can be given the chance to interact with more cats and get adopted from there. Being the prime kitten age, they won’t be there too long.

“Well, guys. Let’s have a light breakfast,” she says out loud knowing that it’s best not to have animals full before traveling. Meanwhile, Frodo gets his meal as usual and as he’s in the corner munching away she monitors each kitten. Each kitten had a breakfast theme, there was Egg a white and ginger girl, and Bacon a ginger boy. They were actually litter mates. Two abandoned kittens that eventually joined them were Waffle, a white and tabby boy, and Bagel a tuxedo boy. The two that were going home together are litter mates Egg and Bacon. Their owner will be here in another hour.

On time, the family came to meet their new additions. The brother and sister were each holding a kitten, smiling as their parents affectionately pet the kittens. She placed them in the carrier and placed some of the joys they loved playing with.

“Thanks so much for choosing these two. They will be the light of the house I just know it,” she tells the parents, mainly the mother as the father was holding the carrier cooing at them gently.

“No, thank you for taking such good care of them,” the mother said back making Aria smile. It was all worth it seeing the small or pathetically sick kitten grow and play and be happy and healthy.

She waves off the family and soon after she drops off Waffle and Bagel to the shelter who were happy to receive them, they would be placed in a kitten room where a few healthy kittens were.

“Okay, I have plenty of time before our meeting,” she looks at the time, it was only 10.

By the time she cleans out the kitten room, gets rid of the litter, and vacuum the rest of the house to be rid of access hair it was nearly noon. She still had to shower and get dressed.

“Argh,” she lets out Frodo to use the bathroom before getting that well needed shower. It was sunny but chilly. However, it was not freakishly cold so she was able to wear an undershirt under a sweater and a pair of skinny jeans and her walking shoes. The day was nice to have a bit of a walk, what else would a couple of dog owners be doing?

She knew which park James had referred to and it was either a nice walk or a quick car ride to it. Since today was a nice day she decided on a walk.

However, the moment she grabbed the leash to attach to the harness Frodo became excited, wagging his nub tail so hard he was practically wagging his butt.

“Alright, Frody, we can’t go unless you sit still,” she said as the dog was too excited for a walk. While his puppy years are long gone, he was a healthy adult who had plenty of energy to spare. In fact, it was important he was well exercised when dealing with tiny babies.

When the leash was attached, the walk began. Frodo knew what to do, he stayed at her side while they walked. Aria knew where to go as well guiding her companion to the park, soon as the sounds started of other people started making its way to their ears Frodo became excited again, he knew where he was.

“Alright, don’t pull. Frodo, heel,” she commands giving a tug on the lead before Frodo could go any further and the dog stops trying to pull and stood beside her.

“Good dog,” she praises and pulls out her phone to message James.

Hey, I made it to the park. If you see a goof wearing a light blue sweater with a very excitable corgi that is me. Look forward to meeting you.

She sends the message and makes a way to the bench. Frodo whines, no doubt because this wasn’t the walk that was promised.

“Don’t worry, Frody. We’ll get our walk in, don’t you want to see your friend Ninja dog? Wanna see Luca?” she asks her tone shifted and the Corgie turns back to her, little butt wagging. She wondered if he understood but he still seemed pretty alert, looking around so maybe, just maybe he did.

James Barnes (Luca’s Dad): Sorry, we’re late, we’re looking for you right now.

She looks at her phone, it was only 5 minutes after. Sure it was late, but it wasn’t like she was waiting long. It was a nice day after all. She stands to look out for the husky pup and see the human attached to said pup. But then Frodo jumps up and lets out an excited bark eagerly starts to go in a direction. Perhaps he’d picked up the scent of a friend.

“Alright, alright Frodo. Heel,” she commands and the dog was bounding in excitement as she finally takes notice of the only Husky in the park. She walks a little closer and she takes note of the human and was stunned. Dark brown hair that fell around his jaw, said jaw was defined and was peppered in a tasteful amount of stubble, lastly, his eyes were a stunning icy blue, kinda reminded her of Luca.

When they got close enough she lets go of the button, allowing the dogs to meet first. Frodo greets Luca with eager sniffing, both sets of tails were wagging happily.

“So, you’re the Friendly Dog lover?” James asks with a voice so velvety smooth she was almost speechless.

“Oh, um. Yes, name’s Aria. And I would assume you’re James?” she answers back.

“Yeah, I’d prefer if you called me Bucky though,” he answers sticking his hand out.

She grasps it gently in a handshake, she tries to ignore the warmth that resonated from the moment they touched. “So, this little escape artist is named Luca?” she asks looking down at the dog who had stopped to sniff her.

“Yeah, my god. I hadn’t the slightest clue he was getting out this whole time. So the note was very alarming, to say the least,” Bucky answered.

“That’s right, you moved recently. I don’t think I noticed any moving trucks,” she answers.

“Oh, it’s because I had a little help,” he answers.

Soon, they start walking the path around the park as they talked about him just moving to be closer to the people he considers family. She listens how he got Luca as a gift from his best friend Steve and how the past couple of months having him was amazing.

“He’s a little shit, but I love him,” Bucky answers fondly looking at the dog who was walking happily beside Frodo.

“Aren’t they always? I love my dog too,” she answers.

“You said your dog’s name was Frodo? Fan of Lord of the Rings?” Bucky asks making her whip her head towards him.

“Oh? You enjoy it too?” she asks in surprise, it’s such an old fandom that it’s not talked about much.

“A few friends have seen the films. One of them calls another friend of mine Legolas because he did archery as an elective in school,” Bucky answers watching her eyes stare back at him in wonder. “Though, I haven’t exactly gotten into them myself,” he adds.

“Fair enough. And, well my boyfriend really loves the books, and I originally got Frodo for him since he really loves Corgis,” she answers and then looks down at the dog who seemed happy with his walk.

“But, life happened and well, I ended up with Frodo. He’s been a joy for 5 years,” she adds trying to brush off the negative feelings that came with talking about Frodo’s origins, all she knew is that she loves her corgi.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh no, it’s okay. It's an innocent question that is a little loaded from time to time. I mean his name is actually funny. Frodo is a hobbit and corgis are short-legged dogs. I think it was the funniest thing,” she answers with a small chuckle.

After a lap around the park, she notices Bucky was looking at his phone and ran his hand through his hair nervously.

“Oh, sorry for keeping you. Saturdays are usually reserved for people who have things to do,” she answers feeling bad for keeping him all day.

Stunning blue eyes looks from his phone back to her, captivating her with ease once again.

“No, it’s not that. I’ve…well…” he hesitates a moment.

“I wanted to thank you and maybe let the dogs hang out before going. But…well I really like having your company and I’d like to invite you to lunch or coffee,” he states.

Her heart leaps in her throat, she’s never been asked out before, not in a long while. She hadn’t the slightest idea what to do with herself.

“The dogs can come of course. There’s that one place in town that has an area where people can sit with their dogs,” Bucky adds noting her hesitation.

“Oh, I know which shop you’re talking about. Sure we can go,” she answers now that she had something to focus on.

“I brought my car here so we can go together. Unless you brought yours of course,” Bucky replies, guiding Luca out of the park.

“I walked, and sure…if you don’t mind,” she checks with him, though before she had time to regret asking and say she’d meet him there he had already given the go-ahead, his smile was so bright she hadn’t the heart to change her mind.

------------

“Woah, you’re a teacher? How do you have time to foster?” Bucky asked sounding stunned to have been told of her profession.

“I limit it to only a few kittens at a time now. Before I had a house full,” she answers with a shrug.

“But…you’re an English teacher. You have to actually grade papers,” Bucky adds making her giggle at how big his eyes looked.

“I mean…you’re not wrong. I do have to read quite a bit. But I only have a few online classes for now. That way I don’t actually have to leave my house. I can’t actually leave newborn kittens alone, you have to feed them every couple hours,” she explains and ends up going on a rant about the latest kittens she’d nursed from the time they were days old till now.

“Today, they graduated and I feel like a proud parent and—” she stops when she sees him smiling softly at her, his coffee remaining mostly untouched.

“S-sorry! I just…go on tangents about my—”

“I think it’s neat. You look really passionate about it, it’s a good look on you,” Bucky answers with a grin, making her face flush instead.

“Y-you don’t have to indulge me…” she answers taking a nervous sip of her cup.

“If I can listen to my friend go on and on about art, which I have absolutely no knowledge about, I can listen to a cute girl talk about animals,” Bucky answers, brushing off her apology.

“Wha?” she squeaks out, not used to such forward language directed at her. He just called her cute without batting an eye. She feels Frodo sit up by her feet, perhaps because of the awkward noise she just made. She pats him on the head to assure him she was fine.

“I’d apologize, but I think it’ll do you a disservice. Also, I’d really love to know more about how you decided to name a cat Egg and Bacon,” Bucky answered shifting the topic back to the familiar.

Even as flustered as she was, she was able to quickly recover when her cats were involved. Other than apparent flirty comments, which were out of her element, she felt really comfortable around Bucky and could see them hanging out in the future. Maybe even without their dogs as buffers.

Enjoyed his company so much she followed him to a safe spot to let the dogs off leash to run, agreeing the dogs did not get any exercise and that Luca, as a working dog, required a lot more activity.

“Oh, wow. I didn’t realize how late it was getting,” Bucky looks at his phone.

Suddenly Aria realizes that the sun was going down. In another hour it would be dinner. She calls back her dog who stops in mid-play and turns around to book it. She glances over to Bucky who had called out to his dog, but he used a strange command instead of the usual ‘come’ the pup managed to follow behind, and eventually passing her short-legged dog to make it back to his owner.

“What was that command?” she asks once she got back to the car.

“Hm?”

“The command to call back Luca, it was something I haven’t heard before,” she answers.

“Oh, Veni. Means come in Romanian,” Bucky answers.

“Oooh, you’re one of those. Like cops who train the German Shepherds German commands,” she answers but still thought it was cool, she didn’t even know where Romania is.

“My friend is a cop. Suggested it to me,” he answers with a grin.

“Well damn,” she laughs at how close she was. “You’re gonna have to tell me about why of all the languages you chose Romanian,” she adds knowing there was an interesting story just waiting to be told.

“Unfortunately we are arriving back to our neighborhood. We can go out some time and I’ll answer all your questions,” he answers.

“Oh damn…I just realized we hardly talked about you at all. I probably sound like some kind of narcissist or something. Geeze,” she groans realizing it immediately. “Also make a left here…” she adds realizing her house was coming up.

“It’s not a big deal. I asked because I was curious, I wanted to know the woman who’s kept such a close eye on my dog for me. I can’t thank you enough,” he tells her and at her instruction came to a stop in front of her house.

“No problem. Luca is a swell dog and I just wanted to make sure he’s safe. He can have a supervised visit anytime though,” she replies, she liked having Luca around.

“Is it safe to assume I’ll see you around?” Bucky asks as she gets Frodo leashed and out of his car.

“Yes I’ll be seeing you around,” she smiles and she actually believes it. Bidding him goodnight, she goes back into her house.

Later that evening as Aria sits watching Netflix on her tv with her dog resting on his comfy dog bed her phone chimes beside her. She grabs it and looks to see who it could possibly be.

James Barnes (Luca’s Dad): Hey, Aria. I’d like to get to know you more. Would you like to accompany me to lunch or even dinner?

She looked down at the message for a while. Was it a date? She notes that he didn’t specify but he didn’t indicate anything about the dogs. She held the phone in her hand for a while, stomach clenching nervously.

“Gee, how did I even date before?” she asked herself out loud remembering a time where she felt freer. She met her ex-boyfriend in college and had several classes together it was only a matter of time before she talked.

“This isn’t necessarily dating. He did say he wanted to make friends. Friends go to lunch or dinner all the time,” she reasons with herself.

I’d like to go to dinner. How is next Friday sound?

If it’s a date or not she decides to take a chance. At best Bucky can be a reliable friend in the neighborhood. At worse, she would just avoid him like she avoids all her other neighbors, and Frodo will have lost a friend. A part of her, deep down, wanted to take a chance on the not so stranger named Bucky Barnes.

AN: S/o to the one Romanian word, I did a google and this is what it gave me. I apologize in advance. Stay tuned for a Christmasy themed one.

#bucky barnes #bucky x ofc #modern au #bucky fic

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 7 years

Text

Cover You In Oil, Part 1

WordCount: 8496 (I promise this is the only chapter that insanely long. I swear. The other ones average around 3500 words) Tags: @outside-the-government, @yourtropegirl @to-pick-ourselves-up-7 (please let me know if you want to be tagged) Author’s Note: I started writing this fic in July of 2015, shortly after my Mum was diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer. The idea came to me one day as I was driving to work, so clearly... I knew I had to write it. I love the soulmate trope. As usual - since this isn’t a Star Trek fic and this is a Star Trek blog, let me know if you want to continue to see it or not. Description: Sally Manners has spent her life avoiding the man whose name is etched on the inside of her thigh. Until suddenly she can't. Tony Stark x OFC, Soulmate AU.

Her mother’s soulmark was a beautiful scratchy line of her dad’s script along the side of her foot. It said “You look lost”. A beautiful opening line. Sally’s dad’s soulmark was slightly less romantic, “Not hard to be, in ButtFuck Nowhere”, etched in the large loopy letters of her mom’s hand, just above his collarbone. The romantic notion of the soulmark was not quite so romantic in its gritty reality. This became all the more evident when Sally’s soulmark rose on her skin. It had always been there, a dark, snake-like smudge starting on the outside of her thigh and twisting around her leg before ending just above the inside of her knee. As she got older, and the words finally became visible, Sally realized she would be better hiding out in ‘ButtFuck Nowhere’ with her grandparents, working at the Piggly-Wiggly than ever trying to pursue her passion for anything that might bring her in contact with him. The problem was, her summers spent with Nan and Pops sparked a passion for classic car restoration. And she was damn good at it. It was like it was written in the stars that she was going to eventually meet the man whose actual name was seared on her skin.

Sally had never heard or met anyone whose soulmark actually identified their soulmate. It reeked of arrogance and conceit. It would have been one thing if the damn name had been something common, like John Smith. But even in the days before Wikipedia and Google, Sally had heard of him.

“I’m Iron Man, but I don’t mind if you scream Tony motherfucking Stark when my face is buried between your thighs.” The letters were precise, perfect block letters that almost looked unreal. The first time she’d managed to read all the words, she couldn’t figure out what it meant, but after her first clumsy foray into sexual experimentation, she knew exactly what it meant. And every time she saw it, her cheeks flushed. She never wanted to meet him. She never wanted to hear those words. She never wanted to know what horrified response she would give.

Pops bought the Mustang when she was sixteen, and taught her how to do a complete teardown on it. She rebuilt it from the ground up. The ’65 Shelby Mustang had been rust, congealed oil and regret when Pops towed it into the backyard. Sally had thrown herself into it wholeheartedly, saving up every penny from every summer job she could manage to buy original parts to help restore the car.

“What colour will you paint it, Sal?” Pops asked as her nodded in approval.

“The only colour you can paint it, Pops. Red.” Sally could already see it in her mind’s eye. It took her a whole summer to save for the paint job. On her 18th birthday, Pops handed the pink slip to her, and a photo album documenting the entire job.

“Consider it your resume. You’ll never have a problem getting a job if you drive this car and show off that photo album,” Pops promised.

That was nearly twenty years ago, and the Shelby looked just as good now as it did the day it came back from the paint shop. And Pops had been right. She’d never wanted for work. At her first job, the owner had been a pig. He was more interested in upselling oil changes by trying to convince her to bend over the hoods of cars in shorts than actually seeing what she was capable of. But that job had led to another, with the kind of boss who didn’t care that she was female. Which led to more work. And more work. And eventually an independent contract with one of the best restoration shops in the country, based out of California. Goodbye ButtFuck Nowhere, hello big leagues. Seventeen long, labour intensive years, but she was pulling in six figures, owned a great bungalow with a huge garage and shop, and could pick and choose jobs from a waitlist over three years long.

And if every so often, Sally felt like she was missing out on something because she still hadn’t met her soulmate, she just reminded herself of exactly what kind of man he was by reading a gossip magazine, and the feeling left her. And if every so often, she had an itch she really needed to scratch, well, she lived near Hollywood now, and there was plenty of make-up available to mask that soulmark so whatever erstwhile lover she took wouldn’t spill her secrets. And Tony Stark didn’t seem to be hurting for not having met her, from the looks of things. He was successful, there was the whole superhero thing, and he and that Virginia Potts woman looked awfully close. She must be a saint, Sally thought.

It was a blazing hot Sunday afternoon, and the stereo was cranked as Sally was finishing up on a gorgeous 1970 Dodge Challenger. It was the kind of car that screamed for an appropriate playlist, and Lynyrd Skynyrd was blasting on the stereo. During a break between songs, the unfamiliar staccato of high heels filled the silence in the shop.

“Be right out!” Sally called from under the hood of the car. She twisted the wrench and tightened the bolt on the oil pan. She dropped the tool on the ground with a clang, and pushed herself out from under the car on the dolly.

The woman was tall, and what her mother would have called ‘well put together’, in a tailored cream linen business suit, and nude heels. The look set off the strawberry blonde of her hair and her perfect cheekbones. She looked familiar, but Sally couldn’t place her. She pushed herself to her feet and grabbed a rag to wipe her hands, suddenly feeling self-conscious about her ragged work coveralls, stained with grease and oil. She was sure she was an absolute sight. She’d been so set on finishing the car to send it for paint that she’d rolled out of bed at six am, pulled her sandy blonde hair into a messy knot on the top of her head, and thrown on whatever clothes were on the floor under her coveralls. The look was disheveled in the extreme, but she had only been expecting the tow company later in the afternoon.

Sally made to extend her hand in greeting and then noticed exactly how filthy she was. The Challenger had been a labour of love similar to her Mustang and she’d been consumed with the need to make it perfect. It was being donated by the owner to a charity fundraising for pancreatic cancer research. The disease had stolen her father from her a few years earlier, and so she was donating her time restoring the car to its former glory in the hopes to bring loads of cash in for the research foundation. She withdrew her hand self-consciously.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting clients today,” Sally apologized. “I’m Sally Manners.”

“Virginia Potts, from –“

“Stark Industries. I’ve read about you,” Sally interrupted. “Way to smash the glass ceiling, Ms. Potts.”

“Please, call me Pepper,” she smiled. “This car is stunning. And proves you are exactly the person I am looking for. I have a friend who has the same car. It’s running rough, and needs some body work.”

“Yeah? What colour is his? I’m thinking about purple for this one, just because of the charity,” Sally offered.

“His is red,” Pepper seemed just a little unnerved, and then recovered by gesturing to her cheek. “You have some grease,” she trailed off.

Sally rubbed the rag on her cheek, but suspected she had probably just made the smear worse. “Perks of the job.”

“Anyhow, I understand you have a substantial waitlist, but my friend’s birthday is coming up soon. I’m prepared to make it very worthwhile,” Pepper offered. Sally quirked an eyebrow, wondering if this friend was the man whose name was coiled around her thigh.

“Anyone I’ve heard of?” Sally asked. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. If it was for Stark, she could graciously explain her waitlist was just too pressing.

“The archer,” Pepper replied, and pulled a folder out from under her arm. “These are photos of his Challenger. It’s in pretty rough shape, but he loves it. I would be prepared to fly you out to New York all expenses paid to restore the car. I probably could funnel some other work your way. Steve’s just picked up a 1943 Harley that needs some work, and –“

“Can I see the pictures?” Sally waited for Pepper to offer the folder, and then flipped through the file. The Challenger was in rough shape, but it was definitely not a big job. She could probably be in and out in two weeks tops. It wouldn’t be too hard to avoid Tony Stark for two weeks. Would it?

“We have a top of the line garage that you would have access to, and can fully accommodate you in the tower. Meals catered too,” Pepper began.

“Gym? Pool?” Sally was almost teasing, but was curious exactly how much Pepper was willing to offer.

“Of course,” she nodded. “You’ll find our offer for remuneration on the last page.”

Sally flipped past the various photos of the car, and the car’s excessively hot owner and glanced at the last page. Her breath nearly caught. It was half what she made in a year. And she was being offered it for a two-week job. She would be out of her mind to say no, regardless of the potential of encountering Stark.

“This car is going to paint this afternoon. I can be in New York by Thursday,” Sally offered.

“If you can make it Tuesday, I can fly you out on the Stark Industries plane, and save you a commercial flight,” Pepper offered.

“I don’t want to rush this job. I’ll arrange my flight for Thursday.” Sally was not going to risk walking on a plane with Pepper Potts and Tony Stark.

“Nonsense. I’ll arrange your flight. I’ll email you the details tonight. I’m looking forward to working with you, Sally.” To Sally’s complete surprise, Pepper reached out and shook her hand.

Sally woke with a start early Thursday morning. Her nerves had been a little on edge since agreeing to head to New York. She knew she was being paranoid, but she felt like the skin of her soulmark was itchy, almost burning. And she kept imagining scenario after scenario where she encountered Tony Stark and blurted out some weird and obscure comment that could clue him in to her significance. She’d agonized over packing. Was that outfit too revealing? Would this one catch his eye? The more insignificant she appeared, the better the two weeks would run. She’d even packed her coverage cream just in case, so that her soulmark would be covered at all times, away from prying eyes.

She rolled over and checked her phone. It was only four a.m., but she got up. The sun was rising and the morning was already warm. She pulled on her gear to head out on a run. The run was invigorating and the exact stress release she needed. The nervousness dissipated and by the time she was in the shower, she was eagerly anticipating working on the Dodge.

She settled into her seat on the plane and flipped open the folder of photos that Pepper had given her, to really look into the lines of the car. She’d contacted a shop early in the week and had ordered some parts to be fabricated and sent to Stark Tower to Pepper’s attention. Again, she thanked whatever cosmic intervention had allowed her to be completing the charity Challenger when Pepper contacted her, as it was a small matter to have the same pieces fabricated again, and an order for any others on standby in case the car was in worse shape than she could tell from the photos. Pepper had texted her as she was boarding the plane that they’d been dropped off.

“I’ll have them delivered to the garage for you. Is there anything else you need before you turn your phone off?”

“I’m keen to get started this afternoon. Maybe a pizza? Six-pack of beer?” The last time Sally had been in New York, she’d learned a whole new appreciation for pizza.

“Preferences?”

“Surprise me.” Sally figured Pepper knew beers and pizza. Tony Stark had a well-documented propensity for spending days on end in his lab. Pepper probably knew the best place for every type of take out available.

Flying first class was nothing new to Sally, but she appreciated that Pepper had upgraded the hell out of her when the flight attendance brought her a drink menu. The nerves had been slowly returning since she’d boarded the plane. One drink would relax her just enough that she’d probably nap for the rest of the flight and make it to New York feeling ready to tear down Hawkeye’s Challenger.

“Vodka, please,” Sally requested, handing back the list.

“Ice?” He asked.

“Please.” Sally preferred her vodka neat, but when traveling took ice just for the sake of hydration. She settled back into her seat and put on her headphones. The plane was Wi-Fi enabled, so as she sipped her drink, she worked on the schematic for the car. Eventually, the early morning and vodka combined to make her eyes heavy and she drifted off to sleep, iPad still in her lap. The chime of the overhead system to warn passengers it was time to fasten seatbelts for landing wakened her with a start, and she started momentarily when her iPad was no longer on her lap. The flight attendant walked by and handed to her before she could actually panic.

“You dropped it when you fell asleep,” he explained as he passed it to her.

“Thanks.” She pulled her shoulder bag from the storage compartment by her knees and slipped the iPad and headphones away.

Pepper said there would be a driver waiting for her, and she had to smile when she saw the tablet with her name on it being held up. Of course a Stark Industries employee would use a tablet. The paper sign was apparently out of fashion. She smiled wider when she realized who was picking her up.

“Sally Manners?” He asked. Sally nodded.

“You’re Clint, aren’t you? It’s your car I’m here for?” Sally asked. Clint nodded.

“Yeah, I thought I could get a feel for you on the drive. See what you think and find out what you want to do to her,” he admitted.

“Sure. I have a full set of schematics on my iPad,” Sally offered.

“And iPad? Tony’ll be pissed,” Clint laughed. “Stark Tablets are standard at SI.”

“I’m on contract,” Sally shrugged. “What Stark doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Sure,” Clint laughed and led her out into the warm afternoon. Sally was half expecting him to usher her to the Challenger, which was a little concerning as the photos Pepper had provided made her think it was of questionable road-worthiness. It was with some relief that she found herself climbing into a Jeep Cherokee.

“So tell me about the car, Clint,” Sally asked once they were in traffic.

“Cherry’s great. Except when she isn’t. She needs a big chunk of work,” he began. “In my line of work, she gets beat up a lot.”

“Well, I can’t work miracles. Once I restore the car, you need to care for the car, or we’ll be back at square one again,” Sally explained.

“Yeah, I know. I’m hoping that once she’s looking good, I won’t be so tempted to take her out on jobs,” Clint shrugged.

“You want to stay with the red? I just did purple, it suits the car,” Sally offered. Clint’s face crunched up in thought. He was quiet for a few minutes, looking very thoughtful.

“I like purple a lot. But her name is Cherry.” He was thinking out loud.

“No hurry. Let me know before I send her for paint, and we’ll call it fair.” Sally made a few notes on the iPad and fell silent, waiting for more of Clint’s questions. None came. They pulled into the underground parking at Stark Tower and Clint parked in the company car corral. He grabbed her bags and led her toward the elevator.

“Do you want to see the car first, or your room?” Clint asked as the elevator doors closed.

“If you know where my room is, let’s drop my bags and then head to the garage. I want to get started on the teardown on your car today,” Sally decided. Clint smiled broadly and clapped her on the back.

“Pepper said you’re the best.” Clint punched the button and then turned to look at her, settling against the elevator wall and slouching a little. She’d read he was a master marksman, and she could see it in the way he looked at her. A thousand-yard stare that took in everything. He could probably tell her how many grey hairs were hidden in the sun-bleached streaks in her hair. She hoped he’d be discrete enough not to mention the crow’s feet. “You’re older than you look.” Or maybe he wouldn’t be.

“Uh, thanks?” Sally wasn’t sure if she should laugh or be affronted.

“Oh, shit. Sorry. I meant that you look good for a woman your –“ He stumbled over his words.

“That’s probably worse, Clint,” Sally cut him off. Clint shook his hand and looked at his feet. His hand reached up and rubbed the back of his neck and he sighed.

“This would be the part where I tell you that I’m usually charming enough that women don’t notice these things,” Clint chuckled. Sally couldn’t help herself. She laughed. He was looking up at her through his eyelashes, like a poor wounded puppy dog. It was adorable. And kind of sexy.

“Oh my god, are you flirting with me?” Sally started laughing in earnest. Clint had the decency to blush a little.

“Maybe?” He shrugged. “I mean, I feel as though I owe you. Coming to fix my car and all. And then you get off the plane with that long-legged surfer girl look. But you know cars. Can you blame me for thinking these thoughts?” He pushed up from the elevator wall and stepped toward her. Sally held her ground, both amused and mortified. Any other guy, and she would be all over him. He was hot. His arms alone should require a permit, but then he was hot too. He had that beat-up tough guy look that she’d always been drawn to, and a look like he just didn’t really care. He was wearing a threadbare white t-shirt and faded jeans that were snug to his thighs. The tousled blond hair was what really sealed it for her. She would be all over him. If he were any other guy. But not when he was colleagues with Tony Stark. She put her hand up to stop him.

“Whoa, Tiger. I’m flattered, but –“

“Shit. Did I read you wrong? I got the impression you were single.” He didn’t quite apologize. Sally wouldn’t have respected him if he had.

“I am,” she nodded. He took a step back.

“I don’t usually get this wrong,” he mumbled.

“You aren’t wrong,” Sally admitted.

“Wrong timing then?” He asked, standing up straight again.

“Something like that?” Sally wasn’t about to whip down her jeans and show him why she was hesitant. “It’s just, I’m fixing your car, Clint. I don’t want to feel like I’m being paid in ass. Even a nice little handful like yours.”

“Maybe next time I wreck it then. I’ll seduce you so you won’t kill me when you find out I need to hire you again,” he laughed. Sally joined him. As the elevator opened, Clint suddenly stopped laughing. “Wait, you think my ass is nice?”

“Ah, Clint. I see you managed to pick up Sally,” Pepper was struggling to keep a giggle contained. Sally burst out laughing again and stepped off the elevator.

“Not quite. She shot me down,” Clint grumbled as he followed Sally, carrying her bag. Sally could hear the peals of laughter escaping Pepper as the elevator door closed.

“The garage is huge, Sally. You’ll love it. At least, I think you will. Tony has all the toys. And by toys I mean cars and the tools to work on them. And wait till you get eyes on Steve’s new Harley. It’s a fuckin’ beaut.” Clint had taken the rejection well, rolling right back into buddy mode with Sally on the elevator ride down to the garage. Sally found herself relaxing against the elevator wall with him and enjoying the chatter.

“Pepper mentioned it. She said it needs work too,” she nodded.

“Oh hell, Steve says he can manage the restoration himself, but I bet he’d secretly be relieved to have the help. You should take a peek at it. Maybe your fancy schematics app would change his mind about the solo job.” Clint had loved the app she’d used to do all the rendering on the car restoration. He kept swiping through the images and making happy noises.

“Let me get your car finished first. I have a big waitlist at home right now,” Sally laughed. Clint let them into the garage, past what appeared to be several million dollars worth of classic vehicles. Sally stopped in her tracks in front of a 1932 Ford Flathead Roadster. “Jesus Christ,” she breathed. “That’s fucking unreal.”

“Tony restored that himself,” Clint offered.

“Then why the fuck did Pepper hire me?” Sally wondered out loud.

“Tony takes forever,” Clint replied. “There’s my Cherry.” He pointed a few cars down to the beat up Challenger. It was in sad shape, and Sally almost felt it didn’t deserve to share space with the Roadster. Yet, anyhow, she thought. In two weeks time though, Tony Stark would probably be begging Clint to buy it. She walked around the Dodge, tracing her hand along the contours of the hood. She peered inside and nodded to herself, making a mental checklist of parts and supplies.

“I had some stuff delivered. Any idea where it’s at?” Sally asked. Clint nodded his head toward a backlit shelving unit behind the car. There was a pile of boxes on it. Sally dug through the box, unwrapping various parts as Clint looked on. She reconciled the pick slip against the parts and let out a low curse.

“What’s wrong?” Clint was immediately beside her.

“There’s no coveralls in this box,” Sally complained. “I wasn’t about to pack the greasy coveralls from my shop, so I ordered a new pair. They aren’t here. I’ll have to call. It’s not a big deal, but it slows me down.”

“Lemme grab a pair of Tony’s for you until your arrive,” Clint headed to the lockers at the far end of the garage. Sally followed.

“Just guessing, but is this your best birthday present ever, Clint?” Sally teased. Clint stopped, his hand on a pair of grey coveralls. He turned slowly with a slight smile on his face.

“Kinda, yeah,” he admitted. “So you’ll excuse that I insist that you start working right away.” He slapped the coveralls against her chest and nodded behind him. “There’s a can around the corner where you can change.”

Sally laughed. “Get out. Just make sure I get my pizza and beer in the next couple hours.”

It stood to reason that Stark was built like a man. Sally was built like a woman. It took a bit of wriggling and jumping up and down and cursing to shimmy his coveralls over her curvy ass. She finally got them hitched up to her waist, and tried pulling the sleeves up, to discover that while the shoulders were broad, she was never going to be able to close the suit over her bust. She huffed out a sigh of disgust and dropped the top back down to her waist and tied the sleeves around her. She pulled her shirt off and tossed it beside her pants, grateful that she’d worn the ribbed white tank under her blouse.

Sally pulled her hair back into a sloppy braid and went rummaging through the wall of tools, pulling what she knew she would need to tear down the Challenger to the frame. She pulled a white paint marker out of her box of supplies and set everything down on the bench nearest the Challenger. She dropped her iPod on the bench, put her wireless headphones on and started taking the car apart labeling each part by what it was, and whether it needed replacing, repair, cleaning, machining, remachining. The music was loud and she was lost in her work, and didn’t notice time passing in the windowless, brightly lit garage. Her head bopped along to the beat of the song in her headphones. She’d decided to just recycle the same playlist as she’d used for the charity Challenger, and an AC/DC song started as she rolled herself under the car to drain the oil from the engine. She felt the vibration of someone banging on the frame of the car, but the music was so loud that she didn’t hear if anything had been said. Once she had the oil draining into a bucket, she rolled herself out from under the car. Clint pointed at the box of pizza he’d left on her bench and handed her a beer. Sally pulled off her headphones and smiled.

“Is it food time already? Thanks,” she offered, taking the bottle and clinking it against his.

“You’ve been down here for about four hours,” Clint laughed. He quirked an eyebrow at her get up. “That’s, uh, quite the look. I know we’ve settled that we’re not happening, but that’s a, well. Damn. You look hot.”

“I look like I belong in a spank bank calendar,” Sally snarked. Clint laughed even harder.

“Well, when you put it that way –“

“We only met today. There is no need for you to overshare,” Sally interrupted, joining in Clint’s laughter.

“No, I’m just saying, I never thought chick-in-too-small-coveralls would be a kink of mine, but if you change your mind, you can get JARVIS to let me know. I can be down here in a heartbeat,” Clint winked. He finished his beer and dropped the empty in the recycling. “I’ll let you have a break in peace. Tony gets pissy when people are constantly in his space. From what I’ve seen you’re a genius too.”

“What’s that mean? That I’m pissy?” Sally laughed. She liked Clint. He was easy to like. He laughed again and winked.

“Nah, more that I’ve seen your portfolio and what you can do with a car is every bit as impressive as what he does with robotics. So maybe you need privacy to work too,” Clint explained.

“Not gonna lie, I do work better alone,” Sally agreed. “But I appreciate the food, and the company on my break.”

“I’ll try not to bug you too much,” Clint promised as he headed back toward the elevator. Sally finished up her pizza and washed her hands before getting back to work. She wanted to lift the engine before she went to bed, which meant releasing all the bolts holding it. Which was how she found herself bent halfway into the engine, one foot on the bumper, oblivious to everything around her. When the playlist had ended, she knew she’d been working for a solid six hours, and it was time to break. She just needed to remove the one last bolt and she could lift the engine before making her way back to her room and taking a long hot shower.

“JARVIS, I’m pretty sure I didn’t sign a release for a music video to be shot in here, did I?” Sally overheard the words and cringed. The coveralls were backordered, but by the time the shop had finally texted her about it, it was too late to get a pair from somewhere else before closing. She would have them by morning, they’d assured her. She finally broke the bolt loose from the engine and stepped down off the car, not even acknowledging the man walking across the garage toward her.

“I’m afraid I have no record of that either, sir,” A crisp British accent came over some sort of overhead speaker. Sally sucked in her breath, determined to ignore everything she possibly could until it would be rude to not respond. She was hooking up the engine crane when she heard him.

“And yet, there is a woman in a wife beater and a pair of my,” his voice rose in question, “coveralls, taking apart Barton’s car. It can’t be real.”

“I assure you, Sir, the biometrics on the woman in question are very real,” the voice in ceiling responded. Sally glared at the speaker and began hoisting the engine out of the car. They were talking like she wasn’t even there. “I believe this is the mechanic Ms. Potts hired.”

“Of course. Thanks JARVIS,” he replied. He cleared his throat and stepped between Sally and the engine crane and the dolly she was trying to put it on.

“I’m IronMan, but I don’t mind if you scream Tony motherfucking Stark when my face is buried between your thighs.” His smirk was enough that Sally had to resist screaming and trying to drop the engine on him. She almost laughed at the thought of what that would show up as in a soulmark - “arrrrgh *splat*”? Then she realized he was staring at her, as though waiting for a response. She turned away and sighed, and in that split second decided not to say anything. He would never know she was his soulmate if she never spoke to him. Because soulmarks didn’t say things like “she’s not going to say a word, but instead will sigh and roll her eyes at you”, they say actual words.

Sally turned back and found that he’d already stepped away from the engine dolly, and was leaning against the Challenger, staring at her. For one brief, fleeting moment, she thought maybe she’d stunned him into silence, and started lowering the engine onto the dolly. And then he started talking again.

“I get it. You’re overwhelmed because you didn’t think you were actually going to meet me, and are unsure what to say. And maybe my opening line was too much? I get it; Pepper is always at me about not sexually harassing the staff. I should apologize, but honestly, this is just too perfect, and it’s like Christmas and my birthday and Clint’s special car mechanic rolled into one magic little bundle.” He spoke with his hands a little, Sally noticed. “Pep didn’t mention you were a woman. JARVIS, why didn’t Pepper say the mechanic was a girl?”

“Ms. Potts felt you would be too easily distracted, and that would prove to be an irritant for Ms. Manners,” The voice that kept coming from the ceiling responded. Clint had mentioned this JARVIS guy too, Sally realized. She was going to have to ask him or Pepper who he was. She finished securing the engine to the dolly, and tidied up her workspace, before grabbing her iPod, the remains of the pizza, and a couple more bottles of beer, and heading to the elevator.

“Pepper was not wrong,” Stark admitted, watching as Sally disappeared behind the elevator doors.

Sally didn’t realize she’d be very nearly holding her breath until the air rushed out of her lungs after the elevator doors shut.

Sally was checking email when a text notification popped up on her iPad.

“Settling in okay? Tony mentioned he met you. I feel as though I need to apologize, despite not knowing why.” Pepper was checking in.

“The car is amazing. It’s in much worse shape than I thought it was in, but I love a challenge.” Sally typed back.

“Do you need me to get anything?”

“I had to borrow coveralls today because mine are on backorder. If they don’t arrive tomorrow, I may need you to contact your supplier for me because the ones I had on today did not fit.” Sally admitted.

“Yes. JARVIS told me that Tony had been inappropriate with you. I’ve given up apologizing for his behaviour. He’s gotten reckless in the last few years. More reckless, anyhow. But JARVIS said he was a little more colourful than usual.” It was probably the longest text Pepper had sent her, and Sally almost wanted to ask her what the reason was behind the behaviour. But then she realized Pepper had mentioned that JARVIS guy twice.

“Yeah, who is JARVIS, by the way?”

“JARVIS is an artificial intelligence developed by Tony. He monitors security, takes care of Tony, passively monitors general biometric information, amongst other things. Like a super computer but with a personality.” Pepper tried to explain. Sally gave her iPad a disbelieving look and glanced up at the ceiling.

“Okay.” She couldn’t really think of what else to say.

“Ms. Manners, Ms. Potts feels you may be uncomfortable with my presence. I would like to assure you that in any private spaces in the tower, my default is set to private. I will not record or monitor anything in your personal space while you are here. There is voice activation of my protocol if you call for me only. If you have any questions, please just say my name, and my monitoring and interactive protocol will be enabled.” JARVIS’s voice came out of the ceiling.

“I have some questions. You were monitoring me today in the garage,” Sally started.

“Yes, Ms. Manners. Mr. Stark has the only privacy override for the garage, as the value of the vehicles stored in the garage demands it,” he explained.

“Fair enough,” Sally replied. “Is it rude for me to ask about you?”

“I have no qualms about your curiosity, Ms. Manners,” JARVIS sounded indifferent.

“Could you call me Sally? I would prefer Sally,” she began. “Do you have emotions?”

“I am not comfortable with the informality of using first names, as I have no first name to offer in return, Ms. Manners. As for your other question, I am not sure how emotions feel to humans, but on referring to the dictionary definition of those things, I would say that I feel some sort of echo of emotion about a number of things.” At the very least, JARVIS was thoughtful, Sally reflected.

“So do you worry? I mean, when Mr. Stark is out being IronMan?” Sally asked.

“I accompany Mr. Stark every time he is in the IronMan suit, so I don’t have the worry that is born from not knowing. I do worry about him a great deal. I worry that he is unhappy. I worry that he is lonely. But I rarely am fussed by his work as IronMan,” JARVIS admitted.

“You worry about him being lonely?” Sally was surprised. Tony Stark didn’t seem like the kind of man who got lonely.

“Men of his age, when they are still awaiting their soulmates, tend to get rather reckless. It’s not part of the natural order for someone with a soulmark to wait so long, I don’t think,” JARVIS offered. Sally almost felt guilty. And yet, it was the first time she’d ever met Tony Stark. So it’s not as though she was deliberately thwarting him for years. Just for a few hours.

Soulmates did get reckless the longer they waited. There was millions of dollars in research dedicated to understanding the impact of soulmarks on their bearers, and all of it pointed to how difficult life became the longer a person waited for their soulmate. Sally knew all about it, it was one of her pet interests. She read every new research paper as soon as they were released. Mostly because she was so determined to never be involved with someone like Tony Stark. The first time she’d had the ability to put his name into a search engine, years before Google existed, the man she saw horrified her. Reckless, arrogant, rich boy with a drinking problem. Too smart for his own good and not doing anything good with his smarts. She followed him carefully as the internet made access to information lightning fast, and by the time Google was a thing, Sally had seen some definite changes in Stark’s behaviour, but her opinion had been formed and solidified over years of net browsing. And there were still plenty of indicators that he was a hot mess.

“I feel like I’m being nosy by asking, but he does have a soulmark?” Sally had heard of people who didn’t have soulmarks. She had never met one, but she’d read about them.

“Perhaps it is too invasive a question, Ms. Manners,” JARVIS acknowledged. Sally pursed her lips, wondering what it was that she would eventually say to him. It was probably rude. She’d spent time around mechanics for over twenty years. Some things just wore off on you after a while. Her language was just as foul as anyone she’d ever worked with.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“It’s quite alright, Ms. Manners.” JARVIS fell silent, and Sally assumed their conversation was over.

Sally was down in the garage by six am, finishing the teardown on the car. She’d unpacked her Bluetooth speaker and had it perched on the chassis while she pulled the rest of the engine components out. Once again, she didn’t hear anyone come in, but Clint managed to stealth up behind her and scare the crap out of her around nine am. He placed a Starbucks on the bench and dropped a package beside it before handing her a bagel

“Master marksman and courier? How do you keep the ladies away?” Sally teased. Clint rolled his eyes.

“Pepper said you needed these coveralls right away.” He looked her over and smirked. “I don’t know, I really like the pin-up look.”

“Fuck off,” Sally laughed and threw her wadded up napkin at him. “She speaks!” Stark had apparently also stealthed into the garage at some point. Sally pursed her lips and darted past Clint to the bag on the bench before Stark could get to the car.

“I’m gonna go get changed, Clint. See you later?” She didn’t even wait for a response, but briskly moved toward the bathroom in the back of the garage without even acknowledging Stark’s presence.

“What’s with her?” She overhead Stark asking Clint. “Yesterday she gave me a dirty look and walked away, and now she’s not even willing to give me a dirty look?”

“Should you remember her, maybe?” Clint drawled. Sally could imagine there was a dirty gesture that accompanied the question.

“Oh shit. Maybe. JARVIS, have I banged the mechanic?” Stark’s voice echoed through the garage, and Sally had to bite back a shout of protest.

“From what I can see of her history, Ms. Manners has never been in the same vicinity as you until yesterday, sir.” JARVIS’s voice replied.

“Are you kidding me? The snotty mechanic who won’t say a word to me is literally named Miss Manners? That’s got to be a fucking joke,” Stark exclaimed.

“Maybe she’s just not into you. She turned me down. Maybe she likes privacy. Neither of us could give that to her. Maybe she likes women.” Clint had clearly not been offended by her rejection, and sounded serene.

“Barton, women are always turning you down. It’s the bow. This just doesn’t happen to me. Maybe she is into women. One way to find out,” Stark commented.

“Nat’s gonna kill you, Tony,” Clint laughed. Sally peered around the corner to see if they were leaving her work area, and sure enough, Clint was steering Tony back to the front of the garage, chatting about something she couldn’t quite hear. She would have to thank Clint next time he popped in to check on his car. She rolled her eyes and walked back to the car, taking a pull from her coffee. The distraction of Stark and her new coveralls had allowed it to cool to a temperature she was easily able to drink. One more thing to thank Clint for. It didn’t take long for her to get lost in the music as she got back to work.

“Bacon, chicken, feta and peppers? That’s quite a pizza.” A female voice interrupted her work. Sally smirked and looked up. Sure enough, it was the stunning redhead that had testified before Congress.

“How much to you want to fuck with Tony Stark’s head?” Sally asked as she accepted the pizza box.

“I love messing with Tony,” the redhead answered.

“He thinks I turned down Clint and won’t speak to him because I am into women,” Sally began.

“Say no more. I’ll tell him you were magnificent,” she laughed. “I’m Natasha, by the way.”

“Sally. Nice to meet you,” she offered her hand and returned Natasha’s warm smile. “Your testimony after the whole SHIELD thing was compelling. It must be hard, keeping all those secrets. I only have one, and I don’t know how I’ve kept it quiet for as long as I have.”

“Part of the training, I guess. I can keep a secret. But I can’t change the oil on my car,” Natasha winked. “Must be one helluva secret.”

“I know who my soulmate is.” Sally heard herself blurt it out. “His name is in my soulmark.”

Natasha’s eyes widened in surprise. “That is a big one. I bet you’ve googled that a few times.”

“Once a week since search engines were invented,” Sally admitted.

“Is he anyone of note?” Natasha pressed. Sally nodded as she bit into a slice of pizza. “I won’t press then. If you ever need me to grab him and bring him to you just to get things over with, let me know.” Sally just laughed in response. She leaned against the car and allowed the conversation to flow as she ate. Natasha finally succumbed to curiosity and tried a slice of pizza.

“This almost qualifies as healthy, Sally,” she commented through a mouthful.

“That’s why I like it. I need quick and easy when I’m in a teardown because I like to go until I’m done. But I don’t want to sacrifice my health too much. I can convince myself this is healthy because there’s real meat on it, not just tube meat, and some veg,” Sally laughed. “I usually tack an extra mile on my run during teardowns as well. Just to cover my pizza habit.”

Natasha’s phone buzzed and she rolled her eyes. “I should probably go report on your incredible romantic prowess before he comes down here and finds up eating pizza.”

“He’ll check the footage as soon as you say it anyhow. But try to get a picture of the look on his face,” Sally smirked. Natasha nodded and headed down the garage. She stopped by the Roadster and called back.

“Is he the one?”

“Do you really think I’d tell you if he was?” Sally called back. She probably should be more surprised that Natasha had figured it out, but she wasn’t. She cleared away her lunch mess and pulled out a basin. There were a pile of parts that were in questionable shape, and Sally needed them clean before she could figure out if they were going to need to be ordered or machined, so she slopped some cleaner in the basin and dropped the parts to soak while she cleaned the engine. She was covered in grime in minutes, and grateful for the amazing bounty of the tool selection in the garage as she made a bigger and bigger mess. Her speaker cut out midway through a Journey song, so she pushed herself up from the floor to check the battery.

Stark was holding the speaker in her hand.

“This isn’t StarkTech. Neither is the iPod. All SI employees are to be provided with StarkTech,” he leveled an annoyed look at her. Sally rolled her eyes, and snatched the speaker away from him. It was going to be hard not saying anything to him, if he was going to be that annoying. She walked over to the soak basin and put the speaker down near it before getting a bottlebrush to ream out one of the parts. “After Natasha came back from lunch, I knew something was up. So I had Jarvis pull your file. You aren’t gay. You could be bi, I suppose, but there’s no record of you ever having a female lover, so I doubt it. And you have a plentiful dating history. No serious romances. I thought maybe it’s just me. Maybe you just don’t like me.”

Sally smirked and met his gaze. She had to bite the inside of her lip to stop herself from speaking.

“And see, that’s where this gets weird. I thought maybe you’re like me, getting reckless because you haven’t found your mate yet. But you’ve kind of always been devil may care. So then I thought that maybe you don’t have a soulmark. But JARVIS kindly pointed out this photo,” he held a picture up that showed just the last word below the hem of a skirt, and thankfully no more. “That is definitely a soulmark. So you’re kind of an enigma. Why won’t you talk to me? How can you already hate me if you don’t even know me? Don’t answer that, I blame Google entirely. I should buy Google and force it to black out any unflattering media about me. Shit. There might not be much media about me at all then. Anyhow. You’ve been here less than 24 hours and you’ve driven me to searching out your personal information, having JARVIS scan the internet for photos of you, pulling your IRS file and other degrading acts. You’re making me crazy. You won’t speak to me, and you will speak to Clint, and you will speak to Nat. I could parade every person on the team down here just to justify my paranoia, but amazingly, I really do think this is actually all about me. Which makes me think maybe you’re biting your tongue because you want me and you don’t want me to think you’re an easy mark.”

Sally was getting dizzy trying to follow him. She rolled her eyes and grabbed her water bottle, drinking deeply from it.

“If that’s what’s stopping you, sunshine, let me assure you. I won’t think any less of you for coming back to my bed with me. Or just throwing down right here. I can have JARVIS give us privacy. Or not. I’m equal opportunity. Embrace your sexuality. Enjoy your inner freak. I won’t judge. We’ve all been there. Hell, if you want a threesome, I’m down. But for god’s sake woman, just say something to me,” he blurted. Sally choked on her water, hacking and coughing and hoping it wouldn’t come out her nose.

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” she coughed. Stark’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“Did Pepper pay you to say that?” He breathed. Sally realized she’d spoken and dropped the water bottle.

“Oh shit,” she breathed.

“Are you fucking with me?” Stark demanded. Sally stared at him blankly, lost in the horror of what she’d done. She supposed it was stupid to assume she would be able to keep her mouth shut for two weeks, but she’d expected she would have more than twenty-four hours to get used to the idea of Tony Stark. Before she knew what was happening, Stark was pulling up his shirtsleeve. Wrapped around his bicep, in a trailing twist around his arm that was similar to the path of the words on her leg, were the words she’d just coughed, in her familiar, cramped scrawl. “Is this your writing?”

Sally couldn’t respond. She back up to the wall and slid down it to the floor, dropping her head between her knees and breathing deeply. “Oh god, oh shit.”

Tony’s arm was suddenly right in her face. “Is this your writing?” Each word was punctuated with a stop, to make him very clear. Sally closed her eyes and sighed.

“Yes.”

“The fuck? Do you know what a pain in the ass this mark has been? I was convinced that there was something deeply wrong with me that my soulmate would be a guy but I was mostly attracted to women. Why would you say something like that?” He exclaimed. Sally raised her eyebrows and made a disgusted noise.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Your mark is bad? Do you recall what your first words to me were, you twat?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, just pulled her coveralls off. She was wearing a comfy pair of men’s boxer briefs under the coveralls, and she pulled the leg up to reveal her soulmark. “How do you think I’ve liked having that fucking thing on my leg since I was twelve?”

Stark knelt down in front of her, looking at the mark. He slid his hand up her thigh and followed the words around with his fingers. “It’s definitely my writing. And unquestioningly something I would say. But how did you go so long without anyone ever blabbing about what was there?”

“Do you honestly think I let anyone see that? With your name branded into my skin like I’m your fucking property? I covered that shit up. I tried to have it covered with a tattoo, but I woke up the next morning and $1000 of beautiful work had fucking vanished,” Sally blurted. She was breathing heavily and Stark was still running his fingers along the words on her leg. She pulled free of his grip and adjusted her briefs before stepping back into the coveralls.

“Sir, your heart rate is dangerously elevated,” JARVIS spoke from the ceiling.

“Do you think?” Stark snapped. He rolled back on his heels and dropped to his ass, head in his hands. Sally could hear him slowly inhaling and then after a moment, forcing the air back out his lips. He flexed his fingers in his hair. Sally slid back down the wall, facing him, knees up at her chest.

“Are you okay, Stark?” He’d been doing the breathing thing for a while, and the rhythmic nature of the act was settling her own nerves. He looked up at her, his dark brown eyes meeting her blue ones and locking.

“We have a lot to talk about. But the first thing I think I’d like for you to do is start calling me Tony,” he said.

“Now why couldn’t you have said it that way in the first place?” Sally laughed despite herself.

#avengers fanfic #tony stark x OFC #soulmate AU #I didn't remember this chapter being so fucking long

81 notes · View notes

starspatter · 8 years

Note

TimSteph & *inhales* 1, 3, 6, 7, 9, 11, 17, 19, 20, 25, 26, 27 aaand 29

ilu thank you for asking Again, this is DCAU only (i.e. for Timmy Todd). Spoilered for length.

1. Who is the most affectionate?Stephanie, since Tim still has an ingrained fear of physical contact/intimacy. While he rarely initiates, he feels comfortable enough around her that he appreciates the constant cuddling.3. Most common argument?Anytime one keep secrets from the other, and over the safety of their kids/how much freedom they should have, since Tim tends to be really strict + (understandably) overprotective with them.

6. What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?Gonna borrow a canon quote from the mainstream comics (Batman 12-Cent Adventure) and say for Steph it’s “his warm, shy laugh” (especially since it’s rare for Timmy Todd) and “clean-smelling hair”. I imagine the same holds true in reverse for Tim, since Steph’s million-watt smile and fluffy hair are my favorite things about her. ;P *shot* (Normally I’m not one for bubbly blondes, but goshdurnit she’s just too cute. 7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Ahh Steph’s cheerful energy is totally infectious so the more time Tim spends around her the more he starts to smile/crack jokes again. I pretty much picture her enthusiastically dragging him around to social events to have fun instead of staying cooped up in his room all the time with his computer (much like Ayano and Shintaro with the Culture Festival, although Tim is much more receptive/respectful towards her).

9. Who worries the most?

Tim, definitely. The anxiety and paranoia never does fully go away, and it often takes a lot of patient coaxing and consoling from Steph to calm him down from a panic attack.11. Who tops?

asdlkfjdl Steph would (at least at first to teach Timmy the Boy Virgin *shot*)17. Who says I love you first?Stephanie. It takes a long time before Tim can say it aloud without being embarrassed.19. Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?Stephanie totally boasts about their relationship the first chance she gets lol. Tim is much more reserved about it, although everyone could already tell he liked her anyway (Dick and Barb totally tease him relentlessly about it). …Although no one bothers to directly contact Bruce until the wedding (Tim does send him an invitation, but ofc he doesn’t respond), he still keeps tabs on his son’s affairs from afar, in his secretive Batdad way.20. What do their family/friends think of their relationship?Dick and Barbara are obviously happy for their little bro finding someone who can help him to smile and be more outgoing again. (Dick might actually secretly be a bit jealous, since watching the two together reminds him a lot of when he and Barbara used to date.) Stephanie’s mom also approves of Tim, since he’s smart and polite and seems like a “very nice boy” (a marked improvement over other guys her daughter has dated in the past) - even if he seemingly has some… “difficulties” (although she might be able to sympathize with him/offer assistance and advice based on her own experiences battling depression and drug addiction). He looks to her like the loving mother he never had growing up, although he’s extremely nervous about her finding out his past. (Eventually they do tell her the truth, and she hugs and dotingly spoils him even more as her own son.)25. Who needs more assurance?Tim, although Stephanie has a tendency to get jealous. (Actually her first assumption when he started working longer nights and making strange/suspicious phone calls in RotJ was that he might be having an affair. *shot*)26. What would be their theme song?Ahh I have so many at this point so Imma just gonna dump a bunch (well, the first few are basically ones I couldn’t fit into my fic somehow ^^; ):“Alive” by Adelitas Way“What if I told you that I think you’re perfect?Beautiful sky in your eyes, it’s so worth it.I know you make me feel alive.‘Cause you make meLaugh a little louder,Love a little harder.”“Science and Faith” by The Script“Tried to break love to a scienceIn an act of pure defianceI broke her heartOf all of the things that she’s ever saidShe goes and says something that just knocks me dead:You won’t find faith or hope down a telescopeYou won’t find heart and soul in the starsYou can break everything down to chemicalsBut you can’t explain a love like ours”“We’ll Be the Stars” by Sabrina Carpenter“We are young, we are goldTrying things we didn’t knowLooking at the sky, see it come aliveAll our fears became our hopesClimbed out every locked windowLet me in, hold me closeFill my heart with simple notesSo when it’s hard to see,They are there, reminding meTake my breath, and hold me highSo I can feel the city lightsGlowing under me”(This one might actually apply more to their comics counterparts, but let’s just say it’s a happy AU where they met as Robin and Spoiler and neither of them dies/gets tortured mmkay.)“Landslide” by Oh Wonder“I know it hurts sometimes butYou’ll get over itYou’ll find another life to liveI know you’ll get over itI know you’re sad and tiredYou’ve got nothing left to giveSo when you’re caught in a landslideI’ll be there for you, I’ll be there for youAnd in the rain, give you sunshineI’ll be there for you, I’ll be there for youAnd every time that you’re lonelyEvery time that you’re feeling low, you should knowI’ll be there for you, I’ll be there for youI know your hope is heavy butYou’ll get over itAnd I know you feel like everythingIs falling to the windBut don’t you let the thunder in”“Superheroes” by The Script“All her life she has seenAll the meaner side of meThey took away the prophet’s dreamFor a profit on the streetAll his life he’s been toldHe’ll be nothing when he’s oldAll the kicks and all the blowsHe won’t ever let it showShe’s got lions in her heart, a fire in her soulHe’s a got a beast in his belly that’s so hard to controlCause they’ve taken too much hits, taking blow by blowNow light a match, stand back, watch them explode” “Second Chances” by Gregory Alan Isakov”All of my heroes sit up straightThey stare at the groundThey radiateI’m running from nothing, no thoughts in my mindOh my heart was all black, but I saw something shineThought that part was yours, but it might just be mineI could share it with you, if you gave me the timeI’m all bloody knuckles, longing for homeIf it weren’t for second chances, we’d all be aloneI’m a shot through the dark, I’m a black sinkholeIf it weren’t for second chances, we’d all be alone”“Rush Together” by Quietdrive“They grew up in the same old townNever knowing the other was aroundRead from the same damn booksNever gave each other looksBut one day the sun will shineI know, for their eyes have told me soChasing advice from those who say ‘I’ve lost my mind’Rush together to find each otherNow it’s too late, you can never wait for luckForever bound by the same instrumentWe all adhereThat’s guilt”“Start the Machine” by Angels and Airwaves“I grew so close to all the thoughts I had to leave forever I left the chill and voice of screams and kids and ran for shelterThe pain has a bad reaction A blend of fear and passionYou know what it’s like to believeIt makes me wanna screamI see the stars, they’re in your eyesA playful kiss, can you tell I’m excited?A fast escape in the nick of timeIf you lost your wish, can I help you find it?I’m on my knee, just one to startA fresh new start, don’t be undecided”(Bit of a starry theme here, eh? XP I feel it works for them, whether they’re nighttime vigilantes or not.)“Heroes and Thieves” by Vanessa Carlton“Well, disaster it strikes on a daily basisI’m looking for wisdom in all the wrong placesBut still want to laugh in disappointed facesHeroes and thieves at my doorI can’t seem to tell them apart anymoreJust when I’ve figured it outWell darlin’ it’s you I’m withoutWell I’m stubborn and wrongBut at least I know itKeep moving along until I can get through thisBut maybe this song is the best I can do itWell, it seems like I’m getting closer somehowA flicker of peace that I’ve finally foundThank you for believing in me now‘Cause I do need it” “Come to Me” by Goo Goo Dolls“I’ll be kind, if you’ll be faithful You be sweet and I’ll be grateful Cover me with kisses dear Lighten up the atmosphereCome to me with secrets bare I’ll love you more so don’t be scaredI caught you burnin’ photographs Like that could save you from your past History is like gravity It holds you down away from me You and me, we’ve both got sins I don’t care about where you’ve been Don’t be sad and don’t explain This is where we start again”(This is so cheesy but the couple in the video resembles these two so much it makes me want to cry. Even the lyrics video has some striking parallels to my upcoming fic, which I swear was just a coincidence.)“Diary” by Ken Kamikita“I forget all painful things, those blue words spilling out, the end of a distant spring The city in sunset, as if oblivious of the crimes committed today, rings out sounds of the bell signalling the end.Back alleys, laughing voices, at the other side of the window, sight of a happy familyMy heart ached as I looked up, the first star was shining brightlyThe moment I realized, there was nothing left, I spent today in regrets and threw everything away, What’s left behind, all the time, is the me, unable to changeI recoil from love, the wind still blew, throughout the city I left behind, the end of a hot summer Burdens piling up, memories of the days we could laugh together, I desert them all and begin walking Even though I can’t see what’s ahead, even though you’re not thereI take a detour, a swing in the park, water garden, vanishing lives Citizen hall, piano sounds, you flashed a fleeting smile As I laugh, ‘since it’s you, everything’s going to be fine’”(Translated lyrics from here.)”A Page Is Turned” by Bebo Norman”A page is turned by the wind to a boy in curly grin With a world to conquer at the age of ten But as history unfolds and the storybook is told He finds salvation but not at the hands of manThe God of second chance Will pick them up and he’ll let them dance Through a world that is not kind And all this time, they’re sharing with the one That holds them up when they come undone Beneath the storm, beneath the sun And once again, here you standYour day has come” 27. Who would sing to their child back to sleep?Stephanie, being the more musically inclined of the two thanks to her piano lessons. Tim might join in if he’s feeling particularly at ease though (however his real specialty is telling the kids bedtime stories, based on his Adventures as Robin). I can actually picture them singing the “Dango Daikazoku” song together. (Incidentally, I have a headcanon of Ayano singing the song to the Meka Trio, since she and Nagisa share the same voice actress. ;O)

29. One headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heartSteph blames herself for not noticing her husband was being possessed by the Joker (although she sensed something was clearly off), and wasn’t able to prevent RotJ from happening. Tim of course feels even more guilty about it, but she helps keep him from falling too deep into despair by still accepting him despite it all.

#detalesz #starspeaks #long post #sorry can you tell I've been waiting to songdump #*shot*#actually this reminded me of a song I'd forgotten for the fic so thanks for that #was just trying to think of it the other day

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