#we HISTORICALLY tease each other cause that’s what friends fucking do. and we also tease about our sexuality. GO OUTSIIIIDE

[dsmsix]

got back on twitter and was called bigoted towards gay men within the day. these people don’t understand the sibling rivalry between fags and dykes.

it was all because of a joke tweet about gay men stealing lesbian tv shows and how they should get their own fucking jobs. and my tweet was aimed at a friend who literally calls me fucking “truck driver” cause im a dyke like lmaoo be serious rn

[queenshelby]

First Date (Just Friends Part 5) - Cillian Murphy Imagine

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT

Words: 3760

New Morning Routine

Sunlight peaks in around the window ledge, streaming through the shear curtains and warming your hand. You slowly waken, struggling to open your eyes. Something felt different in the most divine way.

As the room came into focus, details from the previous day came rushing back and you felt happy, more than you did in a long time.

You stretched and wiggled a bit, enjoying the soft feeling of the sheets and pillow. Your motion caused a soft murmur behind you and an arm came around your waist, pulling you closer.

‘Good Morning’ you heard Cillian say softly before his soft lips touched your bare shoulder.

‘Good Morning’ you said equally soft before tilting your head, giving him a quick kiss.

‘I am surprised that you aren’t up already’ you said as this was the first time you actually woke up next to Cillian. Usually, by this time, he would already have had a shower and his first cup of coffee.

‘It’s cold and I don’t want to get out of bed’ he murmured as he snuggled into you even more beneath the doona.

As he was snuggling up to you from behind, you could feel his hard member against your back.

You were surprised but yet excited about the possibility of morning sex. But first, you couldn’t help it but make a little joke.

‘I thought this usually only happens to 20 something year olds in the mornings’ you giggled as you reached behind you, in between his legs.

‘Well, I can’t help it, you are just too beautiful’ Cillian said before kissing your neck, sending a smile to your face.

‘Hmm’ you purred as his kisses were slowly becoming firmer as his hand moved to cup my breast, causing your nipple to harden in his palm.

You turned over to face him and stare into his amazingly blue eyes.

‘I love you’ he whispered before his sensual lips moved to capture yours.

‘I love you too’ you said as you broke the kiss for just a second. It was nice that you could admit your feelings not only to yourself, but also to him. You felt as though you had fought it for way too long.

You could feel his desire for you building up again as he gently pushed your back to the mattress and ran his hand over your panties so that his fingers were resting against the top of your clit.

He already had given you about five orgasms in the last 24 hours, but you couldn’t get enough of him. You wanted him again and spread your legs slightly, giving him better access.

While he was stimulating your clit, your hand moved back in between his legs, gently stroking his hard cock through his Calvin Klein briefs.

You were so wet for him already, your panties soaking, as his hands pushed your panties aside and his middle finger down the entirety of your wet entrance.

As he began to rub your clit, you began to moan and stroke his cock harder, feeling a drop of precum flowing from his tip on to the light cotton that is restricting it.

His breathing got heavy as you continued to stroke him while he slipped one of his fingers inside your pussy. You couldn’t help but buck your head back into the pillow.

The pace of pleasuring one another soon became quicker, and although you weren’t saying anything, there was much to be heard with your bodies.

Cillian would occasionally slip his fingers out to rub your clit with the wetness of your hole, and you could feel his cock already pulsating in your hand.

‘I want you inside of me’ you demanded as you flipped back on to your side and with his cock grasped firmly in your hand.

You rubbed his cock once slowly over your clit, just before he grabbed hold of his own cock and rubs it back and forth against your wet folds, stopping at your entrance to tease you.

‘Cillian’ you said firmly, as you couldn’t wait any longer, causing him to grin.

‘Alright, alright’ he said with a smile on his face as, slowly, he pushed inside of you.

‘Oh god, yes’ you moaned at the sensation of him entering you.

You were both breathing heavy with each deepening thrust. Cillian reached around and continues to rub your clit as he penetrates you from behind, causing you to moan loudly over and over again.

As this goes on for another few heightening minutes, you couldn’t help but sink your fingernails into his forearm.

While he was inside of you, thrusting in and out of you, he kissed the back of your shoulder up along your neck.

You turned your head and made your way towards his lip before grazing each other’s tongues. As you kissed more and more intensely he began to fuck you harder.

He was completely indulged in your pleasure and your orgasm was edging.

As you climaxed, you pulsed throughout your entire body while he slows down his thrusts to feel your muscles tighten around his thickening cock. But then, he couldn’t hold back much longer either and pumped faster as your walls continued to contract.

He could feel everything and, with one loud moan, he filled you with his warm cum before you turned around and kissed him again passionately.

‘I wish we could do this every morning’ Cillian smirked after your lips drifted apart.

‘No reason we can’t’ you responded sheepishly before kissing Cillian again. ‘So, what’s the plan for today?’ you asked after your lips drifted apart.

‘Well, I thought I would take you out for our first official date’ Cillian said.

‘A date?’ you asked excitedly. ‘Where are you taking me?’ you added.

‘It’s a surprise‘ Cillian smirked before jumping out of the bed and walking into the bathroom. He seemed in a hurry to get ready and it turned out that he had the whole day planned out for you.

You were quick to get ready, but didn’t worry too much about make up. Cillian always told you that you looked best without it. He adored your natural beauty.

Within 30minutes, you were both showered and dressed and ready to get into Cillian’s car.

First Date

You hadn’t been to this part of Ireland before and hoped that the day would include some sightseeing and maybe some shopping.

You loved small country town shops and old bookstores and you have heard that there were many of those around the area.

Unsurprisingly, you weren’t to be disappointed as Cillian pulled up and parked the car in the middle of a small township.

He took you to a small café for breakfast before you both explored the shops in the street. There were small antique stores, craft shops and a second-hand book shop.

Cillian knew that you enjoyed historical books and everything antique or vintage. At home, you had a large collection of old English teacups and books, mostly poetry. Your grandmother always referred to you as an old soul but most men you’ve met in the past thought that your collectables are somewhat random and silly. They didn’t understand your fascination and would never have considered paying any interest in them.

Cillian was different. He quite enjoyed some of the poetry as well and you discussed many of the writers that you’ve loved with him. To your surprise, Cillian was also more affectioned than all of the other men you’ve met in the past and he didn’t mind to show his affection for you. He would often take your hand into his and give you small kisses where and when appropriate. You enjoyed all of the attention you were receiving from him.

You were, however, slightly uncomfortable as a young woman came up to him and asked him for a picture. It felt strange to you but Cillian seemed to have handled it well. He likes his privacy and you were glad for it.

‘So, it’s time for the actual date’ Cillian said as you returned back to the car after a few hours in town.

‘I am really curious as to where you are taking me Cilly’ you said as you strapped yourself in.

‘Somewhere you will like and where I will be out of my comfort zone’ he said laughing.

After about 10 minutes, you pulled up at what looked like an old castle.

‘Wow, this looks amazing. What is inside?’ you asked.

‘It used to be a residence of some English man until 1889. It then was converted into a hotel and restaurant in the early nineteen hundreds. James Joyce used to stay here frequently until he died in 1941 so I thought you would like it’ Cillian said.

‘James Joyce used to stay here? Are you serious?’ you asked. You had read literally every James Joyce novel and were a huge fan of his work.

‘Yes, he used to visit with his mistress I believe’ Cillian explained as he stepped out of the car.

‘Have you been here before?’ you wondered.

‘Only once for a wedding’ he said before taking your hand and walking inside with you.

The restaurant inside was kept well within the 1890 theme but you soon realised that this is not where you would be eating as the waiter asked you to follow him upstairs.

Upstairs was another venue called ‘The Tearoom’ which was even more beautiful. It had red curtains and beautiful chandeliers.

‘Seriously, High Tea?’ you laughed, knowing exactly that Cillian had no idea what he was in for.

‘Well, I knew you would like it’ Cillian said as he looked around and observed that he was the only man in the entire venue.

‘Would you like a glass of champaign?’ the waitress asked both of you just as you sat down.

You ordered a glass of cuvee but Cillian didn’t really like sparkling wine or champaign.

‘Do you have Guinness?’ Cillian asked, causing the waitress to shake her head in disbelieve before telling him that they didn’t serve beer here.

‘Just tea is fine, thanks’ Cillian responded, causing you to laugh.

‘You look uncomfortable’ you said with a laugh while Cillian looked at the tea menu, which had at least 40 teas to choose from.

‘I admit, I do feel a little out of place’ Cillian said.

‘Well, thank you for taking me here, this is amazing’ you said, being impressed with the historical flair of the venue and the assortment of teas.

‘You are welcome’ he said before reaching across the table and taking your hand into his.

It wasn’t long until you’ve ordered and then you talked for a while and observed your surroundings.

Not far from you there was a table with four young women, two of which glanced over to your table on numerous occasions.

‘It looks like you are getting a bit of interest’ you said jokingly but quietly.

‘Well, I am the only guy in this place, that’s probably why’ Cillian said jokingly just before the waitress approached your table with the food.

‘Wow, this is a lot of cake’ Cillian said as he saw the three trier stand of sandwiches, scones and cakes, causing the waitress to laugh.

Cillian wasn’t much of a sweet tooth and you knew you would have a lot of left overs.

You both tried your best to finish everything but eventually gave up.

When you left the venue and stepped outside it was raining again and you decided to wait for a few minutes to see if the rain eases off before walking to your car.

‘This was the most beautiful first date, thank you Cilly’ you said before giving him a kiss.

‘I am glad you enjoyed it’ Cillian said before telling you that he loved you as your lips drifted apart.

‘I love you too’ you responded before taking Cillian’s hand making a run for the car.

Jealousy

When you arrived back at the Cottage, Cillian heated up the fire place while you ran a bath for the both of you.

You enjoyed having baths with Cillian and were soaking in the tub together for at least 20 minutes.  

As you came out of the bathroom, you noticed that you received a text message from Jeremy.

‘Having a good time in Kerry with your sugar daddy?’ the message said, causing you to choke.

You were furious about the tone of the message from Jeremy and wondered how he knew that you were in Kerry.

Just as you were typing a response, another text message arrived.

‘I am disappointed Y/N. I didn’t think you were the kind of woman who would get involved with someone almost twice her age. For what, publicity or money?’ the message said. The text message also contained a link to a tweet of a woman you didn’t know.

You opened the link and saw a photo of you and Cillian sharing a kiss in front of the venue you visited earlier that day. Someone must have taken a photo of you.

Your face was turning red in anger as you read the message over and over again and you didn’t know what to respond.

‘Y/N? Is everything alright?’ Cillian asked as he observed the look on your face.

‘It’s just Jeremy being an ass’ you said as you put the phone down.

‘Why? What did he do?’ Cillian asked concerned.

‘Here’ you said as you gave him your phone and disappeared to get yourself a cardigan.

‘Y/N’ Cillian said as you were leaving, wanting to talk with you about it.

‘Just give me a moment Cilly, ok?’ you said as you walked off. Tears were building up in your eyes and you didn’t want Cillian to see you like this.

Cillian decided to give you some space as you had requested and put your phone onto the kitchen bench.

He didn’t like Jeremy’s comment either but wasn’t surprised. He was prepared for some backlash. After all, this was exactly what he warned you about.

While you had disappeared, Cillian began to prepare dinner and, about ten minutes later, you returned from the bedroom.

You had calmed down a bit and a glass of red wine was waiting for you on the counter as you returned.

You took a sip and offered to help Cillian with the vegetables.

‘Are you alright…with this?’ Cillian asked.

‘What, with the vegetables?’ you asked jokingly.

‘With the comments from Jeremy and the picture’ Cillian asked.

‘A few years ago my grandmother explained to me that people tend to express themselves negatively towards others in order to deal with feelings of jealousy. I believe that this is true and there is literally no reason for me to get wound up about it. Jeremy is clearly just jealous’ you said maturely as you sipped on your wine.

‘Your grandmother is a smart woman’ Cillian said with a chuckle.

‘By the way, I never really liked Jeremy. He seems immature’ Cillian said jokingly before giving you a kiss.

‘I do feel bad for him though, in a way’ you said.

‘I don’t. In fact, I can’t wait to kiss you right in front of him now just to annoy him even more ‘Cillian said cheekily.

‘Cillian!’ you smirked as you bit your lip. You never noticed Cillian to be territorial but the thought of it turned you on.

‘What?’ he answered as he ran his thumb over your cheek and kissed you again.

‘Hmm… so how would you kiss me right in front of him?’ you asked sheepishly. ‘Like this?’ you added before a soft moan escaped you as you pulled Cillian towards you, tight against you, before sliding your tongue into his mouth. The kiss was urgent and passionate.

‘More like this’ Cillian responded before he pressed you hard against the corner of the kitchen bench, kissing you once more, with even more passion, while slightly pushing your legs apart with his.

By this point, you could feel Cillian’s erection press against you.

‘You should have kissed me like this in front of the restaurant, that would have given off a good picture for Twitter’ you said as you ran your hands over the bulge of his pants.

‘I am glad you can see the humour in this’ Cillian chuckled before moving his hands up to cup your breasts.

‘I want you to fuck me right here Cillian’ you said with urgency, causing Cillian to pull your clothes off you with urgency.  

You were wearing nothing but your black lace lingerie now as Cillian lifted you up onto the counter and pushed your legs apart.

‘What about dinner?’ Cillian smirked as he began trailing kisses down your chest while unclipping your bra.

‘Later’ you moaned, the wetness building up in between your legs.

Cillian started to gently kiss and lick your delectable nipples while your arm snaked around his head as you moaned.

Your body was arching towards Cillian as he trailed kisses all the way down to your abdomen.

Your lips parted in clear anticipation as he was moving closer towards your panties.

After he pulled off your panties, his lips moved to your wet folds rather quickly, sending you into a horizontal position on the counter.

Cillian grabbed your thighs and pulled you slightly towards him as your legs were spread wide, one resting on his shoulder.

Cillian’s licks were still soft and gentle, but growing more insistent.

You loved the feeling of his lips and tongue in between your legs and your moans were continuous, loud and spurring.

Cillian slipped a finger into your moist, inviting opening around which your body shuddered instantly as he continued sucking you.

He soon added another and thrusting them both in and out of you, hitting your g-spot over and over again. The feeling of it sent you to another level. The familiar "Don't stop!" came soon.

It wasn’t long until you were convulsing around Cillian’s fingers as you growled an inarticulate sound and Cillian needed to hold you back with his other hand as you started thrashing around the counter.

‘Oh my god Cillian’ you moaned as your orgasm washed over you. He was so good at this, it was almost unbelievable.

You lifted your back up slightly after you came down from your high, only to notice that Cillian was positioning himself in between your legs.

With a full smile, you were ready as you watched him lining himself up with your entrance, spreading your legs widely to accommodate him.

‘Fuck’ Cillian moaned as he entered you slowly. You were incredibly tight, but also incredibly wet.

You loved the feeling of him filling you like this and let out a high pitched moan as he started; slowly but firmly moving in and out.

It wasn’t long until you clenched onto Cillian’s forearms as he began thrusting rhythmically and forcefully, primal desire taking over.

His hands grabbed your butt and began impaling it onto him as his thrusts became harder. You could almost feel him all the way inside your stomach.

‘Cillian, I am so close’ you moaned as he kept thrusting while he was kissing and gently biting your neck.

The sex was much harsher than you’ve had with him before but that’s exactly what you wanted in that moment.

Goosebumps started appearing all over your skin and you were visibly shaking now.  Your walls soon began to contract around Cillian’s hard cock and he held your thighs firmly all the way until you orgasmed.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as your orgasm shook your body into tiny little pieces and your eyes rolled unseeingly as you were being taken over by the crashing elements of your arousal.

Cillian’s moans increased in intensity and volume as he felt you coming around his cock.

‘Fuck’ was all that he could bring over his lips as he came inside of you. A feeling of heat flooded you as spurt after spurt of cum was emptied into you.

‘Hmm I so needed this’ you smirked as Cillian’s forehead was leaning against your breasts. He was still coming down from his high and panted.

‘I love you Y/N’ he said as he looked up at you.

‘I love you to Cilly’ you said just before you exchanged a passionate kiss.

You soon got dressed again and decided to continue with cooking dinner, together, while listening to Portishead and having some read wine.

You loved being with Cillian and, in the end, comments like those from Jeremy meant nothing. You realised that and were determined to ignore people like him from now on.

But it wasn’t that easy. You couldn’t ignore everyone.

After you checked your phones again a few hours later, you each had several missed calls. News travel fast, very fast.

Cillian excused himself to make a call just as you finished cooking. It seemed urgent.

When he returned five minutes later, he was highly frustrated.

You asked what was wrong, but he didn’t want to talk about it. You couldn’t help but wonder who he called.

[phykios]

this one is dedicated to mi amor mari @perseannabeth, who is a beautiful bird and a wonderful friend and i am v v vvvvv grateful to have crossed the airwaves with her :”)

Today Was A Fairytale [read on ao3] T, modern royalty, fun at disneyland!

She stares at him. 

He stares back. “What?”

“Really?”

“What?”

“You really think this is going to be enough?” Annabeth points at her head, the blue Yankees cap squishing her curls. 

“Of course! It’s the Clark Kent effect.” As if to underline his point, Percy slips on his fake hipster glasses, except that stupid grin of his is too bright not to draw attention. 

“That’s not a real thing.”

“Sure it is. Studies show that glasses are actually good enough to alter your appearance if someone doesn’t know you well.”

“Then why didn’t you bring a pair of glasses for me?”

“Because your hair is definitely the prettiest thing about you,” he says, automatically tugging an unruly curl which peeks out from under the brim, a gesture so practiced she almost doesn’t register it--until he blinks, dropping his hand, blushing lightly. “I mean--the most noticeable thing. You know. A hat should be fine.”

He looks away. Heat rises to her face, too. Because it’s so hot out, obviously. 

“Anyway,” he mumbles, “um. No--no one’s going to give you a second look if your hair is hidden.”

Chewing her lip, Annabeth can’t help but worry. Percy’s face is extremely well-known, possibly more than hers, and they’ve both spent the better part of three weeks with their faces plastered all over the media on their diplomatic trip. This is probably a really, really bad idea. Then, a thought occurs to her. “How about,” she says, perking up, “you give me your glasses, and I’ll give you mine.” From her backpack, she fishes out a pair of sunglasses, big and nondescript. He’ll practically be wearing a superhero mask with these.

Percy smiles again, and Annabeth thinks she might fly. “Perfect.”

Which is how Her Royal Highness Anna Elisabeth Ingrid Irene of Sweden and His Serene Highness Perseus Alexandros Ioannis of Thera play hooky from their day of boring meetings, insufferable dignitaries, and stuffy security guards, to go see the eighth wonder of the world: Disneyland Resort in California.

And how Annabeth eats her words as they make it past the security gate unchecked. “Eh?” He beams, nudging her with his elbow. “Eh?”

Rolling her eyes, she shoves him back. “Shut up.”

***

[description: a tiktok video which depicts a line at Disneyland. the op, a black girl with braids, covers her mouth and looking into the camera, turning the camera to focus on the two people behind her. one is a tall boy with black hair and sunglasses, and the other is a blonde girl with a yankees hat and glasses. both are white. video text reads: “p sure the people behind me are prince percy and princess annabeth??? um?????”. background audio is a dubstep remix of the fight theme from undertale. end ID]

***

Maybe it’s a little weird, on account of her being actual royalty and all, but Annabeth has always been interested in princesses, both as a matter of historical record (history is awesome) and in the general sense. Like millions of other people, she, too, was raised on Disney movies and tales of princesses and true love, and she was just as captivated as the rest of them. She and Percy used to watch the Disney catalogue whenever their families held state visits for each other, staying up into the small hours of the morning, sharing some popcorn and singing along. 

Luckily for Annabeth, her favorite princess is holding a meet and greet at the Royal Hall.

“Excuse me,” Percy says, approaching Princess Ariel. Well, her cast member, anyway. “Could I get a photo for my friend?”

“Of course!” she trills, her blue eyes sparkling. “It would be my pleasure.” Holding her hand out, perfectly poised and graceful in a way that would impress even Annabeth’s stodgy etiquette instructor, she smiles, warm and welcoming, pivoting to bring Annabeth in for one of those weird, semi-awkward half-hugs. “What’s your name?”

“Anna,” says Annabeth. Hey, it’s not untrue. She’s a little leery of using any of her names, but Anna is common enough. Annabeth? Not so much. Even with her glasses and hat disguise, a little paranoia is justified, she thinks.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you, Anna,” she says, cheerful, with all the grace and charm of someone who doesn’t spend hours saying the same thing over and over again to excitable, temperamental children. What a trooper, she thinks.

“Don’t you recognize a fellow princess when you see one, your highness?” Percy says, grinning that stupid, smarmy grin of his. 

Annabeth glares. Oh, he thinks he’s so damn clever. 

“Oh, of course,” says Ariel, smoothly. “How could I have thought otherwise? Your highness.” And she curtsies to Annabeth, a short dip, her hand placed delicately against her chest. “Perhaps I can introduce you to my friend Anna, princess of Arendelle?”

Still smirking, Percy takes some more pictures, trapping Annabeth into smiling for the camera. She can’t be glaring daggers in her pictures, nor can there be video evidence of her kicking him--no matter how much she wants to.

And she definitely doesn’t miss the way Ariel not-so-subtly checks Percy out, eyeing him up and down.

“You fucking asshole,” she hisses as they leave the photo area, swatting him lightly, and he giggles. 

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Ugh, I hate you so much.”

It’s hard to stay mad at him, though she definitely tries as they enter back out into the park proper, giving him just the barest hint of a cold shoulder. 

“Aw, come on,” Percy says. “I was just teasing.”

“You shouldn’t go around tempting fate like that,” Annabeth says. “Do you want to cause another international incident?”

Percy winces, no doubt remembering the Gateway Arch incident of 2008. 

“If someone recognizes us, we don’t have Zoe or any of her team to protect us,” Annabeth goes on. “Not that I think anyone here would try to hurt us, but…” But it’s a little nerve-wracking, being on her own like this. She hasn’t been alone like this for a really long time.

Wincing, Percy rubs the back of his head. “I guess I forgot you’re a little higher profile than me. Sorry.”

She doesn’t like to think about it, but it’s true. Percy, by his nature as the younger son of a largely defunct royal house, doesn’t have quite the same number of… issues… that someone like Annabeth might have.

Deflating, she uncrosses her arms. “It’s okay.”

“I should have asked you first.”

“It’s really okay,” she says. “No harm no foul.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, entirely serious. “I can call someone up.”

She knows just how long they’ve planned this, how many favors he’s called in and policies he’s sidestepped. Backing out now would just be a waste of a day. She shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she says. “I’m just… feeling a little exposed, I guess. But, I don’t want to ruin all our plans. Let’s keep going.” She grabs his hand, squeezing a little.

“...Okay,” Percy says. “But say the word, and we’ll call it a day. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Like he doesn’t have any other expression today, he smiles at her again.

It hits her, suddenly. He’s so much taller than she remembers. Once upon a time she used to be taller than him; now, he’s basically a whole head above her. 

It’s annoying. But also… not.

Spying something over her shoulder, his eyes light up, and he practically gasps. “Cinderella!” he points with his free hand, like a five-year old. “Come on!” And he takes off to one of the park corners, dragging Annabeth along with him. 

He has to wait in line behind a pair of twin girls, six or seven years old by the looks of it, in identical Cinderella dresses for a photo, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, and when it’s finally his turn, he nearly trips over himself to go up and ask for a photo. 

Cinderella agrees, and now Annabeth is relegated to the job of cameraperson. Percy slides in next to the princess, his hand on her waist, but, ever the respectful gentleman, loosely held, so the cast member can slide out of his grasp without any difficulty at all.

Taking a few shots, it does look kind of strange to have Cinderella’s beautiful, shining face, and Percy’s enormous sunglasses blocking his. “Take off your glasses?” she says, lowering her phone for a second. 

Dutifully, Percy slips them off, smiling again for the camera. 

Cinderella’s smile doesn’t falter, a credit to her professionalism, but Annabeth can see her eyes widen, just a touch.

Annabeth snaps off a few more photos, “Got ‘em!” and Percy once again gushes over the princess, thanking her for her time. Grabbing Annabeth’s hand again, he practically skips off, leading them in the direction of a nearby candy shop. 

***

me: IM SHAKING GUESS WHO I JUST TOOK A PICTURE WITH????

sis: prince percy?

me: HOW TF DID YOU KNOW

sis: its on twitter already

***

They’re walking along, Annabeth slurping up a Dole whip, when she suddenly stops in her tracks, outside of one of the many, many gift shops. “Wait up a second.”

“Hm?” Percy says, around the giant lollipop in his mouth. 

“I want to get some Mickey ears.” 

Very quickly they get lost in the sea of Disney merchandise, walking the labyrinth of Star Wars and Marvel and Pixar goods. There’s a surprising amount of black for the so-called happiest place on Earth, but things do brighten up when Annabeth finally turns a corner and finds the enormous selection of Mickey ears. It’s a wash of sparkles, flowers, bows, and occasionally characters, for children and adults alike. Annabeth eyes a pair designed like Baby Yoda, eyes wide and ears adorably huge, before she fingers a pair of white Mickey ears that have a bridal veil attached to them, contemplating its counterpart, the black ears for the groom, each ear emblazoned with a sparkling silver “Happily Ever After.”

She looks around. Where did Percy wander off to, anyway? 

Well, wherever he is, hopefully he hasn’t gotten mobbed by a horde of excitable fangirls. Given that she can’t hear any screaming--well, any unusual, non-Disneyland-relevant screaming--that’s probably a good sign. 

Running her fingers over the ear selections, she finally picks out a pair of silver sequined earrings with a shiny gold bow, a tiny, rhinestone Cinderella’s castle placed delicately in the middle. 

Yeah. This one. 

Percy finds her as she is paying for her ears, a pair of his own already on his head, red balloons inside of plastic circles. The sunglasses, she notes with a tinge of nervousness, are tucked in his shirt, and not on his face, protecting his identity. “Oh, check mine out--they light up!” he says, giddy, pressing the button on the side, not that she can tell in the brightly lit shop.

“That’s not why I was looking.”

Walking out of the store, ears firmly in her possession, she looks around again. Percy’s face is out there for the world to see, and no one is giving them a hard time. 

And her hat is really sweaty. 

Ah, fuck it.

She removes the Yankees cap, shaking out her sweaty curls, sliding the ears on in its place.

And the glasses, for good measure.

“Cinderella?” Percy asks.

“I thought you’d approve.”

Outside the shop, next to a corn dog cart, Percy pulls her aside, out of the way of a whole classroom’s worth of children, holding up a plastic plag. “So, confession.”

“Percy…” He didn’t. “We said no gifts!” They had agreed to it that morning!

“Well, see,” he says, fumbling around in the bag, pulling out a black t-shirt. “I saw this, and I thought--I thought you might like it.”

He unfolds it, and Annabeth frowns at the shirt design. 

It’s… a drawing of a man in a purple mask against a solid black background, glaring at the viewer. Circling him, in distressed, white-grey military font, are the words “BARON ZEMO,” and the logo for the show he must star in, Marvel’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. She doesn’t really watch superhero shows, though, and she’s pretty sure Percy doesn’t, either. Maybe he’s started this one and he really likes it? “Thanks,” she says, confusion coloring her voice despite her best efforts. 

But he doesn’t look too disappointed. “I was looking through their pride merch, and they didn’t have any stuff with the ace flag, which totally sucks, but then I thought that maybe you might like something a little more subtle? So, yeah.” He shakes it. “Ace pride!”

Oh. Oh, this boy. 

She remembers, so vividly, visiting his father’s summer home on Kalymnos, a few years ago, the summer she turned nineteen, waking up to a banging in the kitchen, noisy pots and pans making a real racket. Granted, it had been one in the afternoon, and Annabeth probably should have been awake sooner, but she had stumbled out of the guest room into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, to the sight of Percy wrestling with the standmixer, making bright, neon purple frosting. The night before, sometime around three or four AM, that weird, liminal hour where the shadow of night just starts to recede, the sky a sweet, soft, dusky blue, she had come out as demisexual to her best friend, saying the words aloud for the first time ever. Loopy from lack of sleep, the moment had passed without much fanfare.

But Percy, dark-circled and still yawning, had woken up early to make her a chocolate cake. By the time she had woken up, he had baked the cake, chilled it, and made two out of the three frosting colors, a beautiful, moist, dark chocolate cake which ended up being frosted with a marbled mix of purple, black, and white, all folding into each other into a kind of colorless, grey sugar. 

Here, now, in Disneyland, she throws herself at him, wrapping his arms around his neck. His arms automatically come up to circle her, hugging her tight. 

She had been worried it had been some kind of defense mechanism. A young girl with an alarmingly high profile, Annabeth had been the subject of intense scrutiny with regards to any romantic entanglements, with critics, tabloid reporters, and fans alike attempting to invent gossip-worthy relationships with every boy she ever talked to--most usually Percy. They did grow up in the public eye together, attending all kinds of events and functions together over the last fifteen or so years. And they did tweet at each other. Like, a lot. They even had their own portmanteau hashtag. But no relationship ever materialized.

She thought maybe she was just being stubborn, unwilling to play the media game. But it hadn’t been stubbornness. It wasn’t about shyness or inexperience. It was real, and it was her.

And Percy hadn’t even blinked.

“I love it,” she murmurs. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he says, swaying her from side to side, just a little. “It was my pleasure.”

***

What’s happening: #percabeth (Entertainment • trending)

@kndrck__ STREAM CHROMATICA: um @TheraUS @SwedenRoyals i think i found your sick royals? #percabeth #disneyland

@wasabiviking: omg werent they supposed to be at some hospital opening today #percabeth

@ChampionSno brando he/him: LMAOOO NOT #PERCABETH PLAYING HOOKY LIKE IT’S ROMAN HOLIDAY

***

“Holy shit,” Percy moans, his mouth full of food. “Oh my God. Dear God in Heaven.”

Annabeth kicks his ankle under the table. “Don’t be rude.”

He swallows, eyes fluttering. “Oh my God, Annabeth. Holy shit. This is the best damn sandwich I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“A monte cristo?”

“A deep-fried monte cristo! In sweet batter!” Taking another bite, he moans again, just this side of indecent. “Oh my God I love Americans. They are absolute culinary geniuses.”

“Better than Bistrot Chez Rémy?” They had both been to Disneyland Paris, separately, sadly, and Percy had recommended the restaurant to her with great enthusiasm for her upcoming trip. As usual, he was spot on with his food recs. 

He nods, eyes closed in rapture. “By a mile.”

“You’ll have to learn to make your own when we get back home, then.”

He jolts, straightening up, cheeks full of food. Roughly, he swallows. “You’re right! I need to take notes.” And he takes out his phone, hurriedly typing down whatever scent and flavor notes he must be able to discern. “This is definitely challah…”

Plucking another piece of chicken with her fork out of her jambalaya, Annabeth lets her attention wander a little, content to watch the passengers on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride as they float on beside them, down in the artificially constructed bayou river. 

Truth be told, she’s kind of tired. They’ve been walking around all day, and even with the brief reprieve of rides, her shoes really aren’t the kind that deal well with huge amounts of walking. She can already tell that she’s going to crash, and crash hard, whenever they get back to their hotel. You know, if their security detail doesn’t eviscerate them first. 

When Percy had first presented his idea to her, she had agreed without hesitation. They had had a long, dense schedule of public appearances planned for their excursions to the states, and the days had begun to seriously wear them out. Together, they had worked out the kinks, coming up with contingencies, negotiating things to do, all over Discord so no one else would get wind of what they were doing. Prior to this trip, she hadn’t seen him in… probably almost a year. She knows his father had been keeping him close to home for whatever reason, and Annabeth had had a handful of official functions to deal with. Their paths just never managed to cross, up until now. 

She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him. 

It’s lonely, growing up in the public eye. It’s cliche, but it’s true. And while Annabeth is afforded a metric ton of various intersecting privileges, she thinks she’d probably give it up in a heartbeat. It kind of sucks being a living, breathing tourist attraction. 

Growing up, she had her cousin Magnus, and a handful of other assorted children to play with, but she would never say that she had a best friend, or even a good friend, until she’d met Percy. Her mother and his father, famous for their mutual dislike, had put aside their differences to host some kind of charitable dinner for the disgustingly wealthy, and had trotted out their respective children in all their finery. Annabeth, being all of twelve years old, hadn’t really grasped the gravity of the event, and had gotten into an itty bitty little food fight with the then-unknown Prince Perseus, the result of an extramarital affair whom his father had so graciously decided to acknowledge and adopt. 

After that night, they became fast friends, and she decided that, if she ever left the royal life, she’d make sure to take Percy with her. He’s one of the few things that makes her life bearable. 

She thinks about it, sometimes. Renouncing her title. It wouldn’t exactly be hard. There was Magnus, just in line behind her. And it’s not like her family held any executive power anyway. They’re just fancy, historically interesting celebrities. 

Would Percy give up his, she wonders?

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

He looks at her oddly over their dessert, two vanilla-bourbon creme brulees. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Just tired. Long day.”

“You want to call it a night?”

She frowns. “What’s left?”

“Well, we did Space Mountain, Rise of the Resistance, Haunted Mansion, Pirates of the Caribbean, a few others,” he counts off his fingers, “saw the princesses, got Mickey ears, ate at Blue Bayou… I guess all that’s left is walking around the pier, if you want.”

“Sounds like you two had a full day.”

As one, they almost leap out of their seats, Annabeth choking on her spit. “Jesus, Zoe,” Percy pants, his hand over his chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Oh?” says Zoe Nightshade, the head of their security detail, who had just apparently materialized out of thin air. “Funny. I could say the same about you, sir.”

Coughing, Annabeth eventually manages to get her air back. “Hey, Zoe,” she wheezes. “How was your day?”

“Eventful. Let me tell you about it in the car.”

Annabeth glances at Percy, who’s looking a little bit like a deer in headlights. Honestly, she’s surprised they even made it this far without one of their own tracking them down. Still, it looks like their game is up. 

...Or is it?

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a large tour group, approaching on the horizon.

“Sure,” Annabeth says, getting up. Luckily, they’ve already paid, so they can just head out; they don’t need to wait for another big group of people to cross their paths. “Will you let us go to the bathroom, first?”

Zoe squints. She’s always been able to see through Annabeth’s bullshit. But Annabeth has her best, Percy-patented baby seal eyes on, perfectly innocent. Surely, Zoe wouldn’t deny them a physical need such as relieving themselves?

After a moment, she nods. “Make it quick, if you please.”

“Of course,” Annabeth says, looking over at Percy, hoping he gets the message. He stands up, slow and stiff, eyes darting between the two of them. “We’ll be right back.”

They wander through tables and chairs towards the bathroom, her eyes always on the tour group as it just starts to pass by. Reaching out, Annabeth grabs Percy’s hand, and with a turn that would make her track coach proud, sprints out of the restaurant, using the throng of people as cover. 

She thinks she hears Zoe yelling behind them, but maybe it’s just her own laughter. “Come on!” she shrieks, breathless, as Percy’s long legs keep pace with her. “To California Adventure!”

***

darthbingus said: the monarchy are fucking parasites but percabeth is pretty cute i guess :/

ladyofsandwiches reblogged and said: it’s obviously a publicity thing lmao, also prince Percy is gay???

eowynning reblogged and said: he’s dating rachel dare, right? he can’t be gay 

ladyofsandwiches reblogged and said: That was a publicity thing too obvs, and Annabeth hasn’t ever been linked to a guy. The king of thera is hardline greek orthodox, there’s no way he’d let his son come out publicly. They’re both gay and pretending to date because homophobia

lardoftheprks reblogged and said: people can be bi and ace and pan and all sorts of things you know

batgirlcock reblogged and said: can you animals leave them alone fr

***

Zoe only spots them after the ferris wheel starts moving. Sprinting over to them, they’re still a full forty feet off the ground by the time she reaches the operator. “Sorry!” she yells down to her, hands cupping her mouth. “We’ll be down in ten minutes!”

“Ananbeth!” he chokes, giggles still escaping him. 

“What?” she laughs. 

“We’re in enough trouble as it is!”

“Exactly,” she says, settling back on the ride. “You’ll probably be grounded for life.”

“Me?” he squawks, playfully offended. “What about you?”

She scoffs. “Please. I’ll just pin it all on you.”

Leaning back, he pouts, arms crossed. “Wow. I plan this amazing day, violate a few embassorial rules, and probably put both of our countries on a massive red alert, and this is the thanks I get?”

“I helped plan it, too.” But he does have a point. “Thank you,” she says. “I had a lot of fun today.”

He turns his head to her, a grin stretching across his face. “Me too.” 

His voice is so soft, so fond. They share a look, a moment, no words between them, only the silence of a true, deep companionship. They don’t need to say anything else, because they already know what the other would say. 

As one, they break away, looking back out into the California evening. 

They don’t talk much as the ferris wheel climbs higher and higher. Honestly, Annabeth is kind of impressed with how well he’s handling himself--she knows heights are a bit of a weakness of his. He grabs the edges of their gondola every once in a while as it drops a few feet, knuckles white and face a little green, but he manages to keep his dinner down, even as the ferris wheel grinds to a halt, Percy and Annabeth at the top of the world. The swing back and forth a little, hot faces against the cool evening breeze. 

And they stay there. 

And stay there. 

And… stay there. 

Annabeth checks her watch. How long have they been up here?

Percy taps his feet, a little too frantic just to be ADHD. 

Finally, there’s a burst of noise from below them, garbled and static. “Uh, yes, excuse me--” the voice says, amplified through a megaphone. “Yeah, um, it appears we are having some… uh, technical difficulties with the Pixar Pal-A-Round. Please remain calm, as we have our best technicians on it, and we are working on evacuating the ride in a calm and efficient manner.” Then the voice cuts out. 

Annabeth glances towards Percy. He has his hands in his lap, fists clenching and unclenching, over and over again. “Uh… you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, sure,” Percy says, “just fine. Peachy keen.” He squeezes his eyes shut, slowly blowing out his breath through his mouth. 

“Hey.” She reaches over, and takes one of his hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. After a long day of holding hands, somehow it still manages to surprise her, how well they fit together, how her skin tingles as she rubs her thumb against his finger. “It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna be just fine. They’re going to get us off this ride, and then we’ll fly home and be grounded for life.”

“I thought,” he wheezes, “you’d blame it all on me?”

“As if you could come up with a plan as genius as hiding from our guard in It's A Small World.”

He nods, shakily. “Right. All you. Definitely not my idea. Everyone knows I’d have looped back to Pirates of the Caribbean.”

“Definitely.” She squeezes his hand, scooting a little closer. “Just breathe with me a little, okay?”

They breathe together, slowly and evenly. At some point, Percy takes her hand in both of his, running his thumbs over her palm, tracing her lifelines like a map. His hands are big, and warm, and it seems to calm him down a little, so she doesn’t mind all that much. 

Twilight darkens, stars twinkling against the grey, dusky sky, and still they are holding hands. Eventually, Percy relaxes, slumping against his seat.

“You good?” 

He nods. He still doesn’t let go. “Yeah. Just…” he sighs, stretching his arms up, taking Annabeth’s hand with him. “Not super looking forward to the dressing down I’m going to get.”

She winces. Annabeth’s dad is a little more flexible than Percy’s when it comes to breaches of protocol. The king of Thera is somewhat famous for his paranoia. “I hope it was worth it.”

He whips his head to her, eyes wide. “Of course it was worth it!” he says, as though the opposite were even fathomable. “You kidding? This was the best day of my life.”

“Better than your sixteenth?” His father had officially acknowledged him that day. Annabeth had spotted him in a deserted hallway with his mother, the two of them fighting off a few happy tears. She knows just how special that day was for him. 

“Not even close.” Squeezing her hand, he smiles again, that smile she knows almost better than her own by now. That smile she grew up with, a quiet oasis in a whirlwind of ancient tradition and modern media coverage. That smile is safety, familiarity. That smile was there to greet her when her mother chose to leave her family, when her uncle died without heirs, thrusting the position of heiress on her, whenever she had a rotten day or a bad grade or a lonely night, just on the other end of a phone, or down the hall, or in the kitchen. 

Whatever happens, she knows, Percy will be her best friend. Her anchor. 

Her…

She swallows. “Thank you,” she says again. “I needed this.” A day without an agenda. A day just for them. 

His eyes are dark, and soft, like the water beneath them. One hundred and fifty feet in the air in a broken ferris wheel, there’s nowhere safer she can be. “Me too.”

So she’s not really surprised at herself when she says, “I’d really like to kiss you now.”

Eyes widening, just a hair, he opens his mouth, momentarily speechless. “You--are you sure?”

She nods, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

“Cool. Uh, me too.”

“Cool.”

Neither of them move. 

“So, do--do you want to--”

Annabeth leans in, her other hand cupping his cheek, and kisses him. 

His lips are soft. His mouth tastes like vanilla and bourbon. They are trapped in a metal box, one hundred and fifty feet off the ground, about to get the punishment of their lives when they get down, and it is absolutely, utterly perfect. 

And when Annabeth pulls back, there are fireworks. 

Quite literally.

Percy’s face glows with pink and green and purple, and a little fire in his eyes that’s all him. The pops of the fireworks, loud and brassy, and muted, completely overshadowed by the pounding of her heart in her chest. 

They rest their heads against each other, breathing each other’s air, quiet and intimate, the calm before the storm that is surely coming. But that’s fine. Let it come, she thinks. She’ll be safe with Percy.

When the park technicians eventually get the ferris wheel moving again, Percy and Annabeth disembark from the gondola like nothing’s even gone wrong, waving to the crowd of people, fans, and reporters alike, who have swarmed the pier, phones and cameras held aloft in a constellation of light, before being quickly hurried away by Zoe and her crew, ushered to the end of the pier where Annabeth’s embassy’s car is waiting. 

Percy doesn’t let go of her hand once. 

***

KALYMNOS, GREECE--Prince Percy has arrived on the island for his family’s annual summer retreat, bringing his girlfriend, Princess Annabeth of Sweden, with him for the fifth year in a row, and the third as his official partner. Lifelong friends, the couple were most recently seen at Disneyland Tokyo, continuing something of a tradition for the two royals where they visit Disneyland parks across the globe. Our sources inside the castle are hinting that the family is planning something big this year. Could we see a proposal by the end of summer? Be sure to subscribe for more updates!

[threeminutesoflife]

Don’t Forget

Pairings: Steve x Black!Reader Summary: A look at family life for Steve, Reader and their daughter after reader suffers problems with her memory  Warnings: slight angst/ends happy, memory loss due to injury, smut, slightest breeding kink Word Count: 1.8k

prompt: 50 First Dates

a/n: @allaboardthereadingrailroad❣️🧡​ thank you for hosting the Diversity Challenge 

a/n2: piece is purposely choppy and randomly placed to reflect the reader’s struggle with memory. Also, references to Dark Knight, Love Actually, Say Anything, 50 First Dates.

___ A monetary, momentary impact- cause and effect:

Bank robberies were many things. Successful ones were more. Timing, precision, determination; a well-mapped out plan, and methodical dedication to achieve a streamless end result.

It was that sort of successful robbery that cemented you, an involuntary participant, on a repetitive course of choppy, foggy memories. Despite the jovial clown designs of the robbers’ masks, the severity of the situation was real.   

Because things really do play out in slow motion as dramatic events unfold- a deafening crash, a cloud of dusty sunlight pouring in through the bank's broken entrance. Stilted, broken flashes of your life projected themselves on the backs of your closed eyelids.

Unfortunately, you were within the range of the propelling debris when the school bus reversed into the building.

Because of that day, your memory would skip and strip. 

____

Exhilaration- friendly fear of tickle monsters:

The sound of tiny feet slapping the floor drew closer from down the hall, ten little toes against high-gloss maple.

The bedroom door crashed open with no regard to the plaster behind it.

Giggles cut through the room as thirty pounds of mischief in footed pajamas launched itself straight at you.

“Mommy!”

Your three year old squealed before bombing her limbs upon your stomach, "Daddy’s gonna get us!”

___

No time for regret, when you’re in the moment of gratitude:

Steve found you standing in front of the vanity, staring at the mirror- unfocused. Frowning slightly, he knew what you were doing to yourself.  

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Steve, do you ever think... it’d be easier if you didn’t ask me out all those years ago?”

“Which time?” Steve tested the waters with the usual joke, gathering time to prepare himself for the familiar, spirit-dampening conversation.

Every few months you’d ask him if all this was worth it- if the extra work to be with you was what he wanted. He’d always reply with, ‘Loving you's a blessing, not a chore.’

You’d hesitate at those words, at his sincerity- until he was able to coax affection back into your field of vision. Because you were worth it to him. 

“Steve, come on. I’m being serious.”

“Me too. I’m lucky to be as stubborn as people claim me to be-“

“Oh, it’s a fact," you snorted. "Not a claim. You’re stubborn.”

“Good thing for me then, huh?" Steve smiled, relieved by your humor. "Otherwise, I’d miss out on everything that’s good in my life.”

___

She’s got jokes:

A documentary splashed itself across the television screen as you sank into the couch next to Steve. Pointing your toes, you rested your legs over his lap and cracked open the fake memory journal's spin. 

Watching you from the corner of his eye, Steve hid his excitement that you brought the book out by him. 

You usually looked over it alone, too self-conscious to try remembering things in front of others. He always encouraged you to sit and read it with him. He liked resharing the stories you created together, but your underlying guilt for not recalling events easily shut the door on those conversations.   

Turning the page, you caught Steve glancing at you before shooting his attention back to the screen with a cough. 

Smugly stretching your legs, you bit your lip and rubbed your ankle over Steve’s bulge. Catching the way his thigh jumped and flexed under his thin sweatpants, your eyes darted back to the journal. You couldn’t wait to play out your prank. 

Keeping his eyes on the screen, Steve picked up your ankle and rolled his knuckles along the arch of your foot. As much as he appreciated the way you riled him up, he wanted you to open up.

Chuckling, you mumbled to yourself how great that day must have been before turning the page and complimenting another pretend event. 

Another faux memory praised, Steve twisted towards you before shaking his head and turning back to the screen. Pressing his thumb harder into the sole of your foot, he was unsure how to proceed. 

Delighted by his confusion, you complimented another memory with a theatrical dreamy sigh.

Giving in to his curiosity, Steve paused the television and gave it a shot, “What are we looking at?” 

“I thought it might be nice to talk about the stuff we did- like you’ve wanted.”

The smile that spread across Steve’s face almost made you feel bad for the prank.

“Yeah, yes- I’d like that,” he shut the tv off, practically dropping the remote in excitement. “What are you reading, what’s making you laugh?”

“How you asked me out using cue cards you made. The messages you came up with were sweet.”

“...Cue cards?”

“It was special of you, Steve. Taking the time to write out something on each one. Here. Look at this sentence, you called me perfect. Reading what you did and how loved I felt, you’re so wonderful.”

“...Honey...” Steve’s voice cracked slightly, “I don’t, I don't know anything about cue cards-”

“-And then the time you stood outside my bedroom window with that boombox. Holding it obnoxiously high above your head. Thank goodness for biceps, am I right?" You teased, nudging Steve with your elbow. "That gesture might be a little too much for some but reading how you made me feel, it meant so me.”

“You wrote that?” Steve questioned, an edge of concern creeping in. “You think I actually did-... you remember these things happening?”

“My favorite is right here. When you built that little house out of waffles at the diner. Setting up a kiddie pool of syrup for us to dip the roof in and a jacuzzi of hot chocolate nearby. And then your expression- when I said I'm more of a pancake person. You argued how pancakes aren’t sound enough for construction.” 

Keeping your poker face intact, you tried not to flinch as Steve inspected you intensely. 

Suddenly, he jetted forward and snatched the fake journal from your hands. Sailing it over his shoulder, he knocked your legs from his lap and climbed off the couch to loom over you. 

Before regret set in from your play of inaccurate historical accounts, your body snapped backward as Steve yanked you down the sofa by your ankles. 

“Hysterical. Pancakes over waffles” Steve scoffed dryly at your teasing, boxing himself over you and settling his knee between your legs. “I know you too well. You’re in for it now, sweetheart.”

____

Adoration, a promise of tradition and support:

You sat in bed with her snuggled by your side, a little nose peeked out from under her blanket. Her little hand wrapped itself around your shirt, her other held a well-loved, stuffed bunny. 

Scooping her up, you cradled her in your arms. Warm security. Peeling a corner of the blanket back, you kissed her cheek. 

Between giggles, she raised the rabbit up in the air and you played along- one kiss for her, another for her stuffed friend.

She settled in slowly with a yawn as you hummed the lullaby your mother softly sang to you before bed. The same rich melody draped with the lyrics your grandmother sang to her children. 

Tears gathered in your eyes as you willed yourself not to forget this moment.

___

Gratitude and gratefulness:

“Can’t you see how beautiful you are? Knowing I’m yours- that you’re mine... when you come out of that bedroom each morning, I witness that recognition of love on your face when you see us...” Steve’s body tensed, his shoulders shook as he stumbled over the words. "...getting to see you with our girl each day."

“Hey," You called to him, pulling himself out of his thoughts. "Hey, handsome."

Steve pressed his forehead against yours and tried to push down his anxiety. 

Your eyes locked to his as you promised teasingly, “You and our daughter- seeing her each day- that’s my happiness. You're just a bonus.”

Sputtering a laugh, he closed his eyes and relaxed from your fingers threading through his hair. Steve never took for granted how you soothed him, especially during the times when he should actually be comforting you. 

“Thank you,” Steve whispered. 

“Some things are easier to remember than others for me.”

“Yeah?” His lips ghosted over yourself, a half-smile raising the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah. The journal's a great cheat sheet, makes it easier to recall I have a husband. Now, if only I could pick him-”

Steve moved quickly, cutting off your joke. His mouth trapped your next words when his tongue swept over your lips. 

___

Muscle memory:

“Hold your legs. Spread'em wide for me,” Steve instructed between a husky, broken grunt. “Wider, sweetheart.”

He stroked himself in front of you as you laid naked on your back. Your arms were sandwiched between the fold of your legs and hands locked around your ankles. You provided your husband more access and an even prettier view with your feet in the air and legs parted. 

He ran his fingers over your folds, circling your clit. Lining himself up, he thought how these were some of his favorite moments with you, the intimacy and the need.

Caught up in the stretch and sensation of him slowly entering you, you almost missed his next words over your moans. 

“Want…” Steve stuttered, “want to be deep in you, beautiful.”

You mewled under him, squeezing him from his words. Releasing your ankles, you grabbed his arms for support as he slowly slid deeper. Steve’s movements faltered with a groan, feeling you tighten around him.

He closed his eyes to concentrate as you felt goosebumps run down his forearms under your palms. 

“Fuck,” Steve cursed and praised, thrusting harder. Your legs bounced above your arms from each snap of his hips.

“Free your legs. Give me your hands, sweetheart,” Steve instructed, massaging your breast.

Pulling him down, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck. You inhaled his woodsy shampoo as you dragged your nose along the light shadow of his beard. Capturing his mouth with yours, you tasted salt on his top lip.   

With a quick bite along your collarbone, his chest rumbled when you ignored his instructions. Collecting your wrists in one hand, he secured them over your head and ground into you harshly. 

“I love you,” Steve said, slowing his pace. 

You replied with a roll of your hips, earning a dark moan from him, "I love you, too.” 

Steve rocked back on his heels, dragging away his length and slipping out of you completely. Your body immediately began to cool from his lack of touch. 

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you called out, "What's wrong?"

“Your empty journal sheets bother me,” Steve stated, running his hands over your knees. "We're fixing that."  

His thumbs circled up your inner thighs, looping closer to your core. Spreading your legs further apart, he pushed them into the mattress. Taking himself back in his hand, he palmed his erection and rocked his shaft along your folds. 

"Let's have another baby, sweetheart," he smirked, teasing his tip into you. "Gotta fill up all those pages.”

[marvelsimp]

The New Kid: Arriving

Ch. 2

The New Kid Masterlist

Genre: Fluff, Angst Pairing: Peter x Lesbian!reader (Platonic duh) , Avengers & Reader Warnings: General angst, swearing, Description: It’s the reader’s birthday so Peter takes her to Avenger’s Tower and there are a few surprises along the way. Reader’s Powers: Healing, telepathy, and empath. Word Count: 3,073

“So, what are the plans for today?”

“You’ll just have to find out,” Peter said smiling.

“Come on its my birthday, you gotta tell me,” you whined.

“Don’t worry it’ll be fun but first, donuts.” He opened the door to a donut shop that you were just about to walk past.  You grinned; donuts were definitely one of your favorite things for breakfast.  Peter quickly went up to the counter and ordered two chocolate donuts for himself and then your two favorites. 

“How’d you know my order? We’ve never gotten donuts together,” you said while sitting down at a table.

He looked at you a little offended.  “Y/n, we’ve known each other for almost a year know.  And you talk about food, especially breakfast food way, too, much.”

‘Fair enough,” you scoffed.  

You and Peter sat there eating for maybe fifteen minutes when Peter suddenly got up, “Looks like our ride is here.”

You looked out and there was a black car that had just pulled up.  You shot Peter a confused look but decided asking questions would get you nowhere.  So, you followed him out and got in the car door he opened for you.

“Happy, this is Y/n. Y/n, this is Happy,” Peter said while getting into the car himself.

You waved and smiled at Happy, he nodded and then started driving.  “So, umm,” you weren’t quite sure where you were going with that much less where you were going at all. 

“Y/n, calm down,” he teased. “I wouldn’t make you do anything you aren’t comfortable with, especially on your birthday.”

You let out a sigh.  The rest of the car trip there wasn’t much talking, you just looked out the window and took in the city that was becoming your new home. When you finally arrived you had no clue where you were until you got out of the car and looked up.  Your eyes grew wide in surprise and excitement.  “What the hell, Parker?” You exclaimed while slapping Peter’s arm.  

“Surprise,” he grinned.  

You were at Avengers Tower; you’d always wanted to go since if first opened after the attack on New York.  The first two floors were open to the public but the rest of the floors were for the Avengers, it was very rare for anyone else to be allowed to enter.  

Peter just smiled interlocking your arms together and walked you into the building.  Over the next two hours you walked from one station to another.  Some were a bit more historic and just listed facts about important Avenger events.  Some were video games or short documentaries about each individual avenger, or at least most of them.  Your favorite one was the VR game where you got to play as an Avenger, you chose Captain Marvel while Peter chose Ironman.

When you had seemingly finished, you were a little sad but Peter quickly lifted you spirts, “Don’t worry I have another surprise.” 

You could feel the excitement absolutely radiate off of him, you were pretty sure that even if you didn’t have powers that you’d still feel it.  Peter grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the building. He led you the back of the building to a garage like area and then to an elevator.  You quickly caught on. He was taking you to the upper levels, the Avengers Levels.  

“Peter, your n-“

“Friday, I have a guest.  Let Mr. Stark know that we’re here.”

“Yes, Mr. Parker he is already aware.  Would you like me to send you straight up to him?”

“Yes, please,” he said while stepping onto the elevator, dragging you along.

“Peter, are you introducing me to THE Tony Stark?”

He nodded. “Oh yeah,” he perked up, “Friday, this is Y/n Y/l/n. Y/n, this is Friday.”

“Hello, Miss Y/l/n. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s, um, nice to meet you, too,” you say looking at the ceiling. 

“She’s Mr. Stark’s AI for the building.  She’s also in his suits,” Peter explained.

“Like Karen?”

“Like Karen.”

You were anxious to say the least.  You were in Avengers tower and about to meet TONY STARK.  You collected yourself as the elevator rose, taking in a few breaths.  “You could’ve warned me.” 

“Surprising you is more fun.”

You rolled your eyes, “My own best friend keeping such a big secret from me!”

“Hmm, like you haven’t kept anything from me.”

“That’s different!”

You both had big smiles on your faces as the elevator doors opened and there they were the Avengers.  Your face dropped, “Holy fuck!”  You said that a lot louder than you meant, your hands covered your mouth, as the Avengers turned their heads to look at you.  You quickly slid over in the elevator to be out of their lines of view as you could hear a few snickers.  You turned to Peter slapping his arm a few times. “You asshole!” you whispered angrily. 

“Sorry! Sorry!” he laughed. “You should’ve seen the look on your face, though!”

“Peter! Those are the Avengers! Why are you laughing?!?!”

“Come on, Y/n. They’ll love you and I’m not the one who just screamed ‘fuck,’” he whispered in your ear. 

You muttered trying to figure out what to say.  You sighed at the stupid boy in front of you then you took a deep breath in. “Fine.  Oh my god.”  

You shook off your anxiety and when you were ready you gave Peter a light shove, making him lead the way.  The room, or what ever it was, was huge.  The main section, or where the Avengers were, was elevated from where the elevator was so you had to look up at them. It was to say the least intimidating, but they all seemed to just be hanging out on the couches that were on the platform.

You looked to the left, right over Peter’s shoulder, and there he was Tony Fucking Stark.  Right behind him were Steve Rodgers and Bucky Barnes who were talking between themselves.  Close behind them was the Falcon, you only didn’t know his name because the public didn’t know his name.  Some of the Avengers were like that, their true names weren’t know so the media used other names, such as Falcon, Spider-Man, Scarlet Witch, Hawkeye and a few more.  You had stopped walking and there he was, your mind was running at light speed while your mouth hadn’t even started walking yet.  

“Y/n, this is Mr. Stark.  Mr. Stark, this is Y/n!” said Peter who was once again beaming with excitement.

“Tony, please,” Mr. Sta-Tony corrected.  “I can never convince him to call me that.”

You turned your head to seen Peter’s face go a little red, causing you to chuckle. You turned back to Tony, you were amazed… more like in shock.  “I-It’s an honor to meet you.” You felt like you should bow or something, they were like royalty to you but you resisted the urge.  “And yeah Peter’s likes that, an idiot. Umm, I can’t believe I’m meeting you, cause someone decided not to tell me.” Tony smirked at your response. “I’d love to ask you about your suits, they are absolutely amazing!  Especially the nano technology its incredible.”  

“We can talk about that later, kid. But for now, you gotta meet the rest of the crew.” With that he walked away, back to the platform with the couches.

“You’re trying to kill me, Parker,” you whispered in your best friend’s ear as the three men who had been behind Tony approached.

You were freaking out all over again.  Three more Avengers, you were meeting Avengers.  

“Steve,” the blond man reached his hand out.

“Y/n,” you said reaching to shake Captain America’s hand.  “And you’re, uh,  Bucky.” He just nodded in return. You turned to the other man, you scrunched your face saying a sort of sorry.  

The man just stepped forward, barley bumping into Bucky, “Sam.”

“What the hell was that for?” Bucky growled, clearly angry that Sam had touched him.

“Language,” said Steve who looked like he was dealing with two toddlers.

“Don’t ‘language’ me,” he turned back to Steve.  “She just said a way worse word than that, not even five minutes ago!” he said pointing his finger at you. You gritted you teeth and turned your head a little in shame.

Steve scoffed at Bucky then turned back to you.  “Nice to meet you, doll,” he says grabbing Bucky’s metal arm dragging him and Sam away from you and Peter. 

That whole interaction through you off.  “That was-“

“Weird?”

“Yeah, this one hundred percent makes me feel like I’m in a fanfic,” you say trying to ease your anxieties.

He just blushes.

“Come on I’m not even talking about sm-” 

“Ahem,” a brunette woman coughs to get your attention. You look over and there are the Scarlet Witch and Natasha Romanoff. You blush, both of them are a lot prettier in person and they caught you in the middle of a weird sentence.  “I’m Wanda,” she says with a kind smile.  The rest of the Avengers seemed excited or at least a little happy and she was but you could also feel her mourning.  A type of mourning she was hiding away, trying to ignore, wouldn’t accept.  You understood that kind of mourning.

“And I’m Nat. Oh, and you might want to watch out.”

Suddenly you were grabbed from behind and picked up. “Lady Y/n,” said the thundering voice, “It is an honor to meet you.” 

You got the wind knocked out of you but you eventually let out a big long laugh. You turned your head and as you had suspected it was Thor.  “It’s nice to meet you too,” you giggled. 

“How about you let her down now?” instructed it calm voice behind you.  With that Thor set you gently on the ground. “I’m Bruce,” stated the man stepping around the god to see you.

Your eyes widen, you have Dr. Bruce Banner in front of you. You were going to ask about his PhDs or something along those lines, but you were interrupted by Friday.

“I would like to inform everyone that lunch is now ready.”

Everyone made their way to a large table. You clutched onto Peter’s arm hoping you didn’t faint or get overwhelmed and have an anxiety attack, even though you were surprisingly calm.  You ended up sitting with Peter on your left and Wanda on your right.  You soon discovered that lunch was pizza. Thank god.  You were afraid it was going to be something fancy.  Wanda offered to get you some you favorites using her powers, to which you accepted.

“So, Y/n,” Tony started, “Peter tells me that you’ve already graduated from high school.”

“Uh, yeah.  After the blip, when I came back, my school was no longer running so I decided to do school from home.  It was just easier so I spent my time pouring over my studies and working on some projects.  I finished what would usually be five semesters in about five months?”

Tony seemed to be impressed. “Tell me about the projects you were working on.” You looked over to Peter, kind of asking if he had told him about your powers. It took him a second to understand but he returned with a nod.  “After I came back I discovered my powers so I used an old microscope and collected some of my blood to study.” You went on to explain your process and what you found.  You then continued by talking about your projects.  The avengers would ask questions, mostly Tony, Bruce, and Peter.  

Then you felt it, it was like someone was screaming in your ear. Loki.  That couldn’t be right, Loki died during one of the battles with Thanos. As you began to understand and test your powers you learned that a person’s subconscious was almost always saying their name, the only time that becomes loud enough for you to hear is when the person is trying to focus or is under a crap ton of stress.  The screaming persisted.  You finally decided to turn you powers completely on to figure out exactly where it was coming from.  You finally discovered it to be the man who seemed to be preparing some desserts.  The voice screaming Loki over and over continued to grow louder and louder. The sound was banging around your skull causing you to develop a slight headache.  You turned to Wanda, you wanted to make sure before you started to throw around accusations of Loki being in Avengers Tower.  “Wanda,” you whispered in her ear, “could you read that guy’s mind over there.  Something feels off.”

She nodded her head.  Her eyes had a very faint red glow to them.  After a few seconds she suddenly stood up causing everyone to turn their heads to her, a few them went into instant defense mode, ready for a fight.  Her hands began to glow red and the man was now surrounded in the red glow too.  “Reveal yourself or I will,” she demanded.

The man groaned and rolled his eyes.  “Come on,” he said while transforming and revealing himself to be Loki.  

Thor stood up quickly his happy demeanor turned mincing as he held his hand out for what you assumed to be for Mjolnir to arrive.  

Peter quickly picked you up from your chair and ran you out to the elevator.  Which was smart because now there was yelling and screaming. “Friday take us to the game floor… Shit!” Peter grinned punching your arm slightly.

“Didn’t know I could do that.”

“No, just didn’t expect Loki to be here much less alive!”

You went on to explain to Peter how you had discovered the God of Mischief while to elevator when down.  Eventually it stopped and you two got out.  You finished your story just as Peter opened the first door.

“This is the gym.”  It was a expansive room, a portion of it was just the usual work out gear, a ginormous rock wall, and a boxing ring.  “Over here is my favorite bit.” Peter led you to a door.  When you stepped through it was full of walls that didn’t meet the ceiling, little secret paths and quite a few upper platforms.

“This is where we play laser tag,” Peter explained, “It’s meant for training but also fun! Everything can be changed with a push of a button.” He walks over to a panel on the wall and pushes a few buttons on the tablet.  The room then shifts and changes, its now a little more direct with a lot of less tunnels and more simple hiding spots. Peter then walks over to a wall that has some vests and weapons. He turns to you with a cheeky grin, “Do you wanna play?”

You smile reaching your hand out to receive a vest. “Game on.”

You and Peter play for who knows how long, but it distracted both of you from what happened upstairs.  Even with both of your regenerative abilities you were both panting and sweating after half a dozen rounds but still having fun. Then Friday spoke up, “Peter, Mr. Stark has informed me that you need to check your phone.”  You both pause your game; Peter reaches for his back pocket and reads a message.

“What does it say?”

“Umm, he just wanted to let us know that they got Loki,” he says peeking up from behind a wall then you shoot at him missing.  “Cheater!”  After a few more rounds Peter asks, “Do you want to continue the tour?  We can always come back here later.”

“Yes, please,” you say catching your breath.  You and Peter put up the gear, get some water and then exit the gym area.  He shows you a massive olympic size pool with several diving boards of different heights.  Then he takes you to a huge game room.  It has several TVs, computers, there’s even a small VR room, and of course there are tons of board games.  

Since he got that text form Tony, Peter’s excitement keeps growing and growing.  “You have another surprise, what is it?”

Peter opens his mouth then closes and he lets out a sigh, he’s a terrible liar and you’re basically a walking talking lie detector.  “Come on,” he lets out sounding a little defeated.

You let out a chuckle, he leads you back to the elevator. “Friday, take us to the living area”  

The elevator rises.  It takes you to a common area, there’s a kitchen, dining table, and a tv with some couches and chairs all in the same room.  You assume, like Peter said, that this is where the avengers live.

“I wanted to show you the labs first, but I think you’ll like this a little more.  This is where the Avengers live,” he grins like he always does with pure joy escaping him.  “The Starks’ have the Penthouse, so they don’t have rooms down here and there’s a floor just for King T’Challa and his family, Princess Shuri’s nice you’d love her.”  He leads you to a hallway with several doors. “At the end of the hall there is a guest room on each side. This hall has War Machine’s, Hawkeye’s, Widow’s, Antman’s, Dr. Banner’s, and Dr. Strange’s rooms.” He had pointed to each one respectively. He then walks to the opposite side of the living space and to another hallway. Instead of stopping before the hallway he continued walking into it. “These on the left are Falcon’s, Wanda’s, Bucky’s, and Steve’s.  On the right there’s Captain Marvel’s, Thor’s, mine, and this one...” he opens door that’s in between his and Thor’s and walks in, you follow. “This is yours.”

You let out a gasp and put your hand to your mouth.  All of your stuff is here, your bedding, posters, pictures, clothes, all of it.  You can feel the tears streaming down your face and you turn to Peter who is smiling with tear filled eyes.  “What?” you breathe out not sure what to say.  Peter simply pointed to a note on the bed.  You walk over to it and read it:

“Welcome to the team, we got a lot to talk about but for now enjoy. -The Avengers”

“I..” you turn to Peter who is now crying, too. You walk to him and engulf him in a hug and whisper, “Thank you.”

Next Chapter

Arriving-deleted Scene

[benkouji726]

Four times they were THAT COUPLE and one time they were REALLY THAT COUPLE

I was writing the last two chapters of my Forlex 5+1 fic when the angst in chapter 5 got to me hard I had to stop and go write some stupidly fluffy stuff. So here it is, some Malex fluff because I only know how to write these two as helplessly in love idiots.

Summary: Four times Alex and Michael show their epic love without even trying to and one time they are obvious about it.

1. Maria and Isobel

Maria wanted to look away, she really did. It was a little bit weird to stare at your ex-boyfriend and your best friend who had finally pulled their heads out of their asses and were currently dating. But she just couldn’t.

To be fair, they didn’t even do much. Alex was saying something, and judging by the serious look on his face and the notes he was showing Guerin, it was not anything casual or flirty, but all business. Guerin appeared to listen earnestly too, he nodded now and then, sometimes interrupted Alex to ask a question or two. In short, they were just having a serious conversation, Maria should know, they were never intentionally being affectionate when she was present, no matter how many times she told them she was totally over Guerin by this point.

So they really didn’t do anything. But the atmosphere around them, somehow exuded intimacy and love, when they looked at each other, even the air seemed thicker. She didn’t know how they did it, and more importantly, how the hell had she missed it before.

Then Alex said something, worry written all over his face. Guerin reached out, closed the notebook in Alex’s hand, and laid his hand there. His pinkie touched Alex’s for about 3 seconds, and Alex visibly relaxed a fraction. Then Guerin pulled back his hand, and they continued to discuss whatever they were talking about, as if nothing happened.

“Ugh, they’re the worst, aren’t they.” Isobel appeared out of nowhere and looked at the couple too, “why do they have to be so in love all the time? It’s inconsiderate to the single ones, not to mention gross.”

Maria was never this grateful for Isobel in her whole life. “So it is not just me, right? I’m not some ex-girlfriend who gets uncomfortable watching her ex and her best friend make heart eyes towards each other?”

Isobel tsked. “Please, the way they look at each other, is SO MUCH MORE than just heart eyes, they could burn the whole place down with only their gaze, it’s nauseating.”

She then stood up, “I can’t watch anymore. I need to break them out of their loving bubble or I’m gonna throw up.”

But she smiled fondly when she walked over.

——————————————

2. Liz and Max

They were having a double-date-turned-movie-night when Liz said, exasperatedly, “Could you please tune it down a notch?”

Michael seemed confused as if he didn’t have a clue why Liz would say such thing to him. “What? You have the remote, you tune it down.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “No, I mean, could you stop being so...” she was lost for words for a moment.

“She meant would you tune down the PDA a notch.” Max, like the knight in a shining armor that he was. came to the rescue.

Michael looked down, to the one foot room between him and Alex on the sofa, and their not-at-all touching bodies, exchanged a question look with Alex, and said, “Last I checked, PDA still means public display of affections, right?”

“And you are practically sitting on Max’s lap.” Alex added.

Liz threw her hands in the air. “We’re doing normal couple stuff! What you two are doing, it’s next level of affection display, OK?”

She pointed an accusing finger to Michael. “Do you even know what we’re watching? Or have you counted all of Alex’s eyelashes at this point?”

To his credit, Michael didn’t even blink. “I was amazed by his eye color because it changed every time the screen light changed, but go on.”

“It’s called reflection you idiot.” Liz was exasperated, “and you did this lip tweak thing every five minutes or so, what was that about? You were like, this close to bursting but still trying to hold it in. It was very distracting.”

There was a little blush this time. “That’s not my fault. Alex has some weird sense of humor, he always laughs at the totally not laughable moments, and I find it cute, so sue me.”

Alex was offended at that. “Well, I find YOU funny, don’t I?”

Michael instantly forgot the existence of Liz and Max, and turned to Alex. “Didn’t say it was bad sense of humor, just weird. And weird can be good, you know. It can be fantastic.”

They looked at each other then, both smiling, until they looked away, Alex’s ears turned a little red, Michael cleared his throat, they didn’t seem to move, but somehow they ended up sitting a bit closer.

Liz sighed. “That’s a no on tuning it down, then.”

————————————

3. Kyle

Kyle had enough.

He was happy for Alex. The guy deserved to be happy, even if his happiness lied on some angry cowboy who disliked him for no reason.

OK there had been a reason, but he proved himself, over and over again, that he was a new man now, even Alex had forgiven him, so Guerin’s dislike was getting a little ridiculous at this point. They couldn’t even have a peaceful conversation without Guerin’s snarky comments, it was tiresome to say the least.

Like now, they were researching the files of Project Shepard together, Alex was showing him some pattern of codes and asked him if he remembered anything from his Dad that could give a keyword to solve the pattern, when Guerin suddenly put a hand around Alex’s shoulder. He didn’t do anything else though, just hand on his shoulder, hips touching, and stood there.

But somehow his demeanor screamed “back off, he’s mine.”

Kyle was a little shocked to be honest. He never saw Guerin like this, and he also didn’t know what he’d done to cause this kind of behavior. He felt like an intruder for standing next to such a blatant display of love and possessiveness.

Then Alex turned a little to Guerin, put his hand into his curls, and pulled, just a fraction, which lasted only a second. When he took back his hand, Guerin took his hand off his shoulder too. His face a shade of pink, his eyes glowing with love and trust. They stood side by side, hips no longer touching.

If anything, Kyle felt even more like an intruder after that.

———————————

4. The whole group

They were having an emergency meeting at the diner.

“I can’t take it anymore”, Isobel whined. “They’re insufferable. I was happy being single, but they just had to ruin it for me!”

“You? What about me? I almost went out with that guy just because they made me feel so lonely!” Maria glared.

“We went together to Planet 7 one night, they were so stupidly in love I almost went home with A GUY too.” Kyle said, if they were competing for the title of “most miserable witness of Malex’s epic love”, he would WIN.

“It’s not easy for the happily dating ones either, OK?” Liz said, “Max is trying so hard these days, because he would turn anything with Mikey into a competition, it’s exhausting.”

“Hey! I’m right here!”

“Anyway”, Liz ignored him, “Halloween is coming. I really don’t want them dressing up like some eternal love story and gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes while in COSTUME. It’s hard to watch when they are in regular clothes already, you know?”

They all nodded. Except for Kyle.

“From what I know, Alex doesn’t do Halloween, so is this precaution really necessary?”

Isobel snorted. “Michael didn’t have any chance to do Halloween before. I heard him talking to Alex yesterday that he would like to do the couple costume thing with him this year. He even brought out his puppy eyes and bashful smile in full mass. I left at that point, because otherwise I’d have to claw my eyes out, but I doubt Alex would refuse Michael anything at that moment.”

Kyle admitted defeat rather quickly.

“So, what do we do?”

———————————

“A themed Halloween party?” Michael asked, with doubt.

“Yes!” Liz replied enthusiastically, “we all have to dress up as the person of our dreams, be it a celebrity or a character, or some historical figure”, she threw a teasing glance towards Max, “it’ll be fun!”

“So, I should just dress up as Alex?”

The whole group groaned.

Alex laughed. “You are doing this so Michael and I won’t do the couple costume, aren’t you.” It was not a question.

Isobel rolled her eyes. “Gee, why would we do that, it’s not like you are THAT COUPLE.”

“That couple?” Alex asked, while leaning into Michael at the word couple, as if he couldn’t help himself. Infuriating thing was, Michael leaned RIGHT BACK.

“You know, the couple that grazes on everybody’s nerves because they are JUST SO IN LOVE that they look like they’re about to jump each other in any given moment but also want to wrap themselves in a warm fluffy blanket and never leave the couch? You are THAT COUPLE.”

“Okay”, Alex said slowly, as if he was struggling to understand, the bastard, “so how would it help the situation if Michael and I dress up as each other at the Halloween party?”

Guerin snorted at that, he seemed SO PROUD OF HIS ALEX for being a dick.

“You are NOT dressing up as each other!” Maria half yelled. “Nobody is dressing up as anybody in this group!”

“Alright! Jesus.” Michael laughed. “We won’t.”

———————————

“What. The. Fuck.” Liz watched Alex and Michael approaching, and she was speechless.

Well, almost. “You promised you won’t dress up as each other, you lied!”

Michael smirked, nose ring and eyeliner firmly in place. “Technically we didn’t. I’m not Alex, I’m his seventeen year old self, and he is a new man now.”

And Alex, honest to God had a curly wig on, smirked in equal measure, “What can I say? You chose an impossible theme for us to do any other costume. Now who’s fault is that?”

Liz hated them so much.

————————————

+1 Cameron

Cameron was waiting for bathroom in wild pony for five minutes now, she was getting impatient.

So when Alex and Michael tumbled out of it, she just couldn’t help herself.

Thing was, they were not even trying to hide the fact that they had been having sex.

Yes, the clothes were intact, the hair obviously combed, they were walking side by side, a reasonable distance between them.

But the satisfied expressions and fucked out bliss were also very evident.

“I always thought sex in wild pony’s bathroom was an urban myth, you know”, she said, conversationally, “who would do it here, I thought, with the smell, the sticky floor and the terrible soundproof condition, surely they would rather up and leave than keeping at it, right?”

Michael, as she predicted, shamelessly smiled, his posture relaxed, slutty even, he winked.

“Worth it for a great lay.”

What she didn’t predict, was for Alex to say, calmly and deadpan.

“And by great lay he means me.”

They continued to leave, now hand in hand.

[localswordlesbian]

sweet talk

this is my submission for @martimweek for the prompt “club/pub/bar”! I’ve been wanting to write a martim one shot fic for a while and this gave me the inspiration to actually do it

read it on ao3 or below the cut

“I’m sick of this. I’m dropping out.”

“You say that every single time you leave an assignment to the last minute, Tim. You’d think you’d have learned by now.”

Tim glared at Martin from where he was dangling upside down off his bed. “I mean it this time. This paper is due tomorrow and it sounds like hot garbage. I’m probably just better off not handing anything in.”

Martin rolled his eyes, putting his own book in his lap. “You’re so dramatic, I’m surprised you’re not a drama major.”

“Why study for something I’m naturally good at?”

Martin groaned while Tim laughed. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you love it.” Martin grumbled. “Screw this paper.”

“Oh, hand it over, you oaf. You’re not submitting nothing, especially after writing ten bloody pages.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a saint, Marto?”

“Literally only you.”

“You’re a saint.”

Martin skimmed over the paper, a historical analysis of the Cold War and its more violent clashes. Martin was no history buff, but this paper was far from, as Tim put it, hot garbage . It was actually pretty good.

He told his flatmate as much, but Tim just scoffed. “You’re just being nice.” Despite his dismissive words, a glow of pride lit up his face.

“Just hand it in, you insufferable twat. You already knew that, you just wanted affirmation.”

Tim clicked his tongue. “Is that so wrong?”

“No, not really.”

Tim leaned back against the wall as Martin picked up his book again. “We should go to the pub tonight, you and me. To celebrate.”

Martin laughed. “To celebrate you turning in a paper? We do this every semester, Tim. Multiple times.”

Tim threw an eraser at his head, and Martin squeaked indignantly. “Fine, then you come up with a reason. I want to go to the pub, and I want to go with you.”

Martin looked up at his flatmate, leaning casually against the wall with his laptop perched precariously on one knee. His black hair was sticking upright from the amount of times he’d run his hands through it in the past few hours, and his tanned and chiseled face looked tired. Despite that, his lips were curled upwards in his telltale smirk.

Martin sighed. “Yeah, alright. Wanna invite the others?”

Tim shook his head. “Sasha’s busy, Daisy and Basira scare me, and Melanie has a date with her new girlfriend.” Tim raised his eyebrows. “Unless there’s someone you’d like to bring along?”

Martin’s face instantly heated up. “Uh, nope. Just the two of us is good.”

Tim chuckled. “I’m sure Jon would love to have a night off from studying, head to the pub with some friends –”

“Tim, I swear to god–”

Tim put his hands up in mock defeat, his grin more infuriating than ever. Martin knew perfectly well that his face was an alarming shade of red, bright enough to put firetrucks to shame, and he also knew that this amused his friend greatly. “Alright, just the two of us then.”

Night fell while Martin finished up his reading for his English class – The Yellow Wallpaper, a story about a woman who spent so long trapped in a room that she began hallucinating a woman living in the walls and trying to rescue her. The ending of the story gave Martin chills, and he quickly scribbled some notes into the margins before closing the book and putting it back on his shelf. Stretching his arms over his head, he winced as several of his bones cracked and his muscles strained from being stuck in the same position for hours on end.

Tim wanted to go to the pub in a few minutes, so Martin pulled a white turtleneck jumper from his closet, throwing it over his shirt. When Tim knocked, he didn’t wait for a reply – simply opened the door and stuck his head in.

“Ready?”

“Christ, Tim! Normal people knock! I could have been changing or something.”

“Which you clearly should be. You’re not going in those jeans.”

“My jeans are fine!”

“Nope. I’ll be in the foyer.”

Martin groaned as Tim shut the door, rolling his eyes as he turned back to his closet. He didn’t want to wear his nice trousers to the pub, but his jeans were old and worn and a little bit gross. Making a split second decision, Martin pulled a galaxy-patterned skirt on and grabbed his wallet and phone on the way out the door.

Tim was waiting by the door, one of his signature hawaiian shirts unbuttoned over a plain black tee. Martin’s heart skipped a little – there was a reason Martin had had a sexuality crisis when he’d come to university, and that reason was standing in front of him.

Tim raised his eyebrows approvingly. “Much better.”

“Bossy arse.”

“Come on, you love it,” Tim teased as they headed out of the flat and into the dark London street. “Your type is clearly bossy.”

Martin sputtered. “My type is not –

“Oh, come off it, Martin. Sims?”

“You don’t need to call him by his last name, he’s not a professor.”

“Alright, Jonathan, the librarian’s special little boy.”

“I don’t get why you don’t like them.”

Tim narrowed his eyes. “Do you really think I don’t like them?”

Martin shrugged. “Well, yeah. You’re always so… snide and sarcastic whenever he’s brought up. Like now,” he added pointedly, raising his eyebrows at his friend.

Tim sighed. “Okay, fair. But I like them perfectly fine, I’ll have you know. He seems like a nice guy, if a little, what’s the word? Married to their work.” Tim threw his arm over Martin’s shoulders. “Look, Martin, I wouldn’t say anything if I didn’t know how you get, especially when it comes to people you fancy.”

“How do you mean?” Martin asked slowly.

“You have a tendency to give yourself away, until there’s nothing left of you to love. I don’t want you to pursue this guy and have your heart broken cause he’s got his nose too glued in a book to notice you. Or your tea,” he added lightheartedly.

They reached the pub, and Martin sighed as they walked inside and made a beeline for a booth in the back. “Tim, I’m not dumb.”

“No, you’re crushing on a guy. And those two things are sometimes interchangeable – trust me, I’d know.”

Martin sighed, gathering his skirt into the booth. “Yes, Tim, you’re a dating expert.”

Tim flashed a grin as he ordered a drink for each of them. “I should write a romance advice column in the school paper. ‘Timothy Stoker’s Guide to Love.’”

Martin snorted. “If you want to increase the number of breakups, maybe.”

Tim punched his shoulder, and Martin yelped. “Rude! I give amazing dating advice.”

Their drinks arrived, and the beer mixed with lighthearted banter was giving Martin a happy buzz. He loved all of his friends, of course he did, but there was something different about having a night out just with Tim. They had an easy rhythm, the two of them, bouncing conversations and teasing and laughter back and forth like a beach ball, pausing to sip their drinks and order more, and soon enough Martin was feeling properly tipsy, and a look over at Tim’s flushed face told him he was faring about the same.

After downing his last drink, Tim turned in the booth to face Martin, one leg crossed under his other knee. “Why don’t you just ask out Jon?”

“Because I can’t,” Martin shrugged.

Tim scoffed, his eyes slightly unfocused. “Seriously? Why not? You’re way out of their league, if you don’t mind me saying, and he clearly likes you back. So what’s there to lose?”

Martin sighed. “Come on, Tim. I’d have no idea where or how to even start. Between my mum, and then my transition and anxiety fucking everything up, I never let anyone get too close. It feels too late now.”

Tim rolled his eyes, but they were fond. “Martin, I mean this in the most loving way possible, but you’re a dolt. It’s not too late, you’re only bloody twenty-one! So what if you haven’t had a relationship before? It’s not like he’s got anything to say about you being trans or having anxiety, and if he does I have a crowbar I keep in my closet for that exact situation.”

“Yeah, I know he won’t.”

“So what’s the issue?”

“God, Tim!” Martin threw his hands up in exasperation. He wasn’t annoyed at Tim, and Tim knew that; he was annoyed at himself, and the alcohol made everything just spill out without a second thought. “I’ve never done this before, I don’t know how to ask someone out without making a blubbering fool of myself, it was hard enough even becoming friends with them because, what are coherent sentences, even, when someone you fancy is talking to you? I’ve never even kissed anyone!” His voice quieted at the last sentence.

“Oh, well if that’s all, that’s easily remedied.” At Martin’s confused tilt of the head, Tim leaned in slowly, slowly enough that Martin could have easily pulled away, easily declined.

Perhaps a sober Martin would have hesitated, would have considered the aftermath, had overthought every aspect of what he was about to do obsessively until Tim pulled away, regretting having made the offer.

Instead, he closed the gap, and then Tim’s lips were on his, soft and tasting of beer. His hands were in Tim’s hair, the curls soft and welcoming against his fingers, Tim’s breath hot on Martin’s face as he parted his lips, pulling Martin’s lower lip into his mouth. He gasped, dimly aware that this was a terrible idea, he was kissing his best friend in the back booth of a student pub that stank of beer and sweat, and Tim’s hands were gripping his shoulders and his lips were soft on his. Tim kissed like he was drowning, and Martin’s lips were air.

Tim pulled away first, and Martin slowly opened his eyes, the dim lights in the pub suddenly too bright. Tim’s hair was still bunched in Martin’s hand, and he slowly disentangled his fingers while Tim released his shoulders, never taking his eyes off Martin’s face. His lips were swollen and red, and he was grinning. “That, my friend, is how you kiss. You’re a natural, nothing to worry about.”

Martin exhaled a shaky breath, causing Tim to chuckle. “Nothing to worry about, yeah?”

Tim grinned lopsidedly, pushing a strand of hair behind Martin’s ear. “Nothing at all.”

Martin nodded. “Cool.” That made Tim laugh. “What now?”

Tim tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we’re best friends, and we just, well, made out in the back of a pub. Isn’t this supposed to make things awkward?”

“Does it need to?”

“Hm. I guess it doesn’t.”

Tim scooted, bumping his hip against Martin’s, and it took Martin a second to realize he was trying to urge him out of the booth. They stood, swaying and leaning against each other for support. They left the pub and emerged into the chilly London night, arms around each other, concentrating on not walking into the street. “I’ll tell you what now.”

“Hm?”

“We’re going to get food on our way home, then we’re going to fight over who gets to use the shower first, and I’m going to win with my devilish charm. Then we’re going to go to bed, and wake up tomorrow with horrible hangovers and more schoolwork. Deal?”

Martin smiled. “Deal.”

[nostalgic-pancakes]

one day (i know that you will be there)

Summary: Here, have some fluffy transbur :D

Pairings: gen everyone, with a specific focus on crimeboys

Read on AO3

Word count: 2070

Warnings: None? I guess? Tell me if there are any, but I don’t see them

Other notes: Part of @noorahqar‘s BANGER discord server Pride Event!

Please DO NOT send this to the CC’s or even imply that this exists because No, Thank you

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Sometimes, it feels like it's okay. Nothing's wrong at all and in fact, Wilbur is happy.

Other times it feels like he's stuck in his own skin, a place he can't get out of.

Wilbur doesn't really know what's going on with his gender. He's always been cis, it's all he knows we it's his comfort zone. Even while his life was being wholly upended by YouTube, and Twitch and life in general, Wilbur's gender was always a constant- the one thing he never worried about or spent too much time on. It was his gender, and it was just kind of...there.

Sometimes when gender is part of the conversation, people display confusion when Wilbur talks about his gender like something separate from him that was tied on and is just there now, like a bit of hair that can never stay in place, but isn't necessarily a bother, either. But isn't gender like that for everyone?

Well, according to the one and only Tommyinnit, no.

"Well… for me, my gender is pretty malleable. It's more of a fucking... fucking abstract concept than a feeling? I'm a little detached from mine, but not as much as that, Wilbs."

"Then what is your gender like?" Wilbur asks. It's late on a Friday night, and Wilbur had ended up visiting Tommy's flat out of mostly impulse, living just under a kilometre away from his sibling these days. They're in the living room, splayed out on the floor talking about anything and everything in the dark, too quiet to wake Tubbo and Ranboo.

Wilbur’s not agender- he has a gender that he keeps around, even if it stays reasonably sectioned away from the rest of him.

Tommy hums, an older tune that Wilbur can't place as he fiddles around with some wool scraps ("Cabbages!" Tommy insists indignantly) leftover from the cardigan they had just finished when Wilbur walked in. It's a burgundy colour that's probably going to be matched with one of Tommy's longer cream skirts to University Monday morning.

"My gender is a… a kind of vibe? I guess? To me it feels like skirts doing that cool swoosh thing in the wind around you while you walk or eating Tubbo's chicken soup and that feeling I always got after a Dream SMP stream. It's weird, but that's my gender I guess." And that is weird. It's weird as fuck, but Tommy's gender sounds really fucking cool so Wilbur tries anyways. Tries to imagine what his gender, the amorphous entity that it is, feels like to him.

It's hard, at first, but then Wilbur starts humming. He's always done better with auditory concepts than visual or tactile ones, strumming tunes together that tie in with his latest hyperfixation.

So Wilbur hums. He starts with 'White Wine in a Wetherspoons' and then 'Cause for Concern' with a little bit of 'Your new Boyfriend' thrown in for posterity as it all starts to come together. Tommy starts tapping his finger on the plywood floor, creating a small beat.

His gender feels nice, actually, and not just the neutral burden that the universe has him carry around. It begins to feel like the warmth in Wilbur's chest when someone says "Hey, don't stop. Tell me more, this is interesting" to even the most niche fixations that Wilbur has ever had, like the different types of bricks or the historical fashion one he had at the same time as Tommy and they made dozens of Pinterest boards together (1830’s hairstyles his beloved). It feels like Phil calling him 'Son' in that chamomile accent, like everything will be fine. It feels like the tipsy laughs he and Niki share when getting drunk together and it sounds like the quick, comforting 'bzzt bzzt bzzt' of Tommy's sewing machine running on the other side of the flat while Wilbur makes them breakfast because they and his flatmates are fundamentally incapable of looking after themselves.

It's really a pretty nice gender, actually. So when Wilbur closes its metaphorical pouch and clips it back onto his metaphorical backpack, he feels lighter, warmer inside than before. Is this how Tommy feels sometimes?

The tapping stops and Wilbur realises that Tommy's fallen asleep, surrounded by scraps of cabbage on a fairly cold plywood floor. This will not do. Thankfully, Wilbur has gained enough arm strength to reasonably carry the nineteen-year-old to his bedroom, carefully avoiding sewing pins that Tommy will clean up frantically in the morning. Tubbo and Ranboo are asleep as before, in the same place, huddled together on the lowest bunk covered in blankets, with just enough room for another person.

Tommy fits in perfectly, head on Ranboo's shoulder and the rest of him swathed in blankets to protect from the cold. It's started to show fairly heavily outside so going home is not possible. Therefore, Wilbur stays.

The guest room still has some of his shit from the last time he stayed over, around a week ago. Piling a thick-ish duvet on top of himself, Wilbur sleeps, more at peace than he's ever been.

-

Monday morning, Wilbur tries out pronouns. He was spending the weekend in a bit of a haze of filming and social interaction and talking to Elodie, his editor, in order to have most of this week free.

He's back at home with pronoun dressing rooms loaded on Firefox, a Geoguessur stream finished and a free day with spoons to spare. It is time.

First- she/her.

This is Wilbur, the site reads, She's 27 years old with a penchant for making songs. She also really likes hanging out with her sibling, Tommy and her best friends on the Dream SMP. She still ships DNF.

Oh. Oh wow. She/Her works pretty well actually. Wilbur likes that for herself.

Next- they/them. This is not as nice, but it's also not bad, necessarily.

Fae/Faer- this one is pleasant enough.

Everything else is okay, Wilbur supposes. She figures that just knowing that he/him isn't the only answer is good enough for herself.

The first person she tells is Tommy, on a phone call during one of his frees.

“Okay, so he, she and fae, right?” they ask, rolling the pronouns around like the colorful hard candies sold in packets of two hundred each, muttering small sentences, barely audible to the phone mic amongst the dozens of student voices around him, pitter-pattering like sleet on cars heard from a cozy living room.

“Yeah. pronouns change by the day. Please don’t interchange them.” Wilbur confirms, short and soft.

“Oh that’s really fucking cool. What are they today? Does anyone else know? Do you have names you want to be called instead?” Tommy asks, orange-sweet in his kind concern and slowed down questions as to not deflate the souffle in Wilbur’s brain.

“Uh, she/her, and no, not yet on the knowing and the name thing. I’m going to tell Phil and Niki, then Dream, probably. Wish me luck.” Wilbur answers, the ‘wish me luck’ thrown in more as a formality than anything, but she’s still nervous, thoughts spinning in popcorn-crunch circles, pop pop pop about how it could go wrong and even if Tommy and Ranboo were accepted, perhaps that courtesy won’t be extended to her. Tommy, the absolute fucking legend as always seems to have figured that much out.

“Wil. Wilbur. Wilby. Big Dubs- It’s going to be fucking fine, you’re popcorn-popping again and while that’s one of your idiosyncrasies and I fucking love those, you are also freaking the fuck out. Everything will be fine, alright?”

“Idiosyncrasies? Where did you learn that? Is ‘The Tommyinnit’ learning new big words?” Wilbur teases, to mask her affection just a little bit, even as it seeps out of her voice like honey in a sopapilla, warm and sticky and sweet.

“Don’t fucking patronize me.” Tommy retorts, instinctive as it’s been for the past few years now, no bite behind their words. “I’ve got South Asian Lit now- call us in the evening?” he asks, because Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo are a single unit in the evening. Do not attempt separation till after midnight. Wilbur laughs, a small thing only audible to her sibling over the phone.

“Course. You can tell them yourself, if you want.”

“Okay. Now I need to walk like, three buildings or some shit, so I’m hanging the fuck up. See you later?” Tommy’s voice is softer towards the end, cotton candy and Wilbur melts, just a little bit.

“Okay, bye Tommy.”

“Bye Wil. Good luck.” Tommy hangs up a few seconds later, the last thing on the line that Wilbur can hear being Ranboo’s steadily louder voice as end catches up to Tommy, and Wilbur keeps the phone to her ear for a few seconds more, before putting it on charge and loading up Discord, to find Phil and Dream on VC 3 together, Tubbo and Purpled occupying the beloved VC 2.

Wilbur joins the call, taking in a deep breath and letting it out, and taking a sip of lukewarm tea. Earl Grey, probably taken from the tea box Phil gifted her on Christmas and prepares herself.

“Ay, H’lo, son.”

“Hey, Wilbur!” Dream’s voice, chirpy and crisp as a freshly-picked apple registers first, just before Phil’s comforting chamomile and Wilbur is at ease very quickly, because it’s Dream and Phil. It is literally impossible for things to go wrong.

“Hi! I just came on here to tell you something.” Wilbur starts. After hearing noises of agreement, like popping candy, Wilbur starts.

“Um, so on Friday, Tommy and I did some soul-searching. Well, I did most of the searching. And uh, I figured out that I’m technically genderfluid, but my gender is a series of abstracts and I use he, she and fae pronouns.” It’s quiet for a second, before Phil responds.

“Hey, that’s pogchamp, mate. What pronouns are you using right now? Are they interchangeable?” Dream makes a noise in agreement, in questioning.

“Thanks, and uh, she/her, and no. not interchangeable. I use certain pronouns until I don’t.”

“Oh, that’s cool! Should I update your pronoun role in the Discord to ‘ask for pronouns’?” Dream finally says, and in typical Dream fashion, it’s by getting straight to business. It’s ridiculously endearing, even five years on, knowing everyone’s little quirks and idiosyncrasies (thanks Tommy for reminding her that the word exists) that it’s still possible to be endeared by them, and that they’re all still endeared to her.

“Yes please, Dream. Thank you. I’ll make a small announcement on the server myself, but thanks.”

“No problem, Wilbur! We’re glad you’re happy.”

“What the green-bitch said, mate.” Phil responds, and Dream turns on his camera for that only, just to show that he isn’t actually wearing green- he’s wearing a blue T-shirt, blonde hair mussed about enough to show that he did not comb it when he woke up. His face still has some sleep leftovers, but he’s awake enough to pay attention, and he’s smiling at Wilbur, mouse clicking very fast to change her discord role, and it shows up a few seconds later with a purple dot. ‘ask for my pronouns’. Wilbur is smiling like an idiot, and she turns on her camera, Phil following suit as she starts laughing a little wetly and all of this sinks in.

Wilbur is gender-fluid. She loves herself, her family and the little pouch still strapped to her backpack. Phil is whispering things into the mic soothingly and Dream is grinning at her, and it just feels so good. The bad feeling in Wilbur’s skin just isn’t here today, and it feels like it won’t be around for a while yet.

With slightly blurry eyes trying to see through her glasses, Wilbur makes an announcement with the @everyone turned on.

Bitchbur (she/her today): @everyone I’m here to announce that I’m genderfluid! You can either ask me my pronouns or I’ll just change my nick. The name’s still Wilbur. That’s about it.

Replies start coming in, nothing but messages of support and thumbs-up emoticons, and Wilber closes her eyes, leaning back in her chair, laughing a bit more. She’s so happy that she managed to accept herself, and find acceptance in everyone else on this server. She probably won’t come out to the internet for a while, or even to some of her real-life friends but that’s okay.

She’s got everything she needs right here.

[fangirling-throughlife]

I finally have a second to truly process the whirlwind of emotions of yesterday. 

It started as a shitty day, for real. I had a minor panic attack in the car, then changed my insulin pump to this new device I never really wanted (but I have to because they don’t have my old one in this hospital), causing me to almost cry because, hey, I’m losing ties to my life back home. Then I had to wait like half an hour to get through to the doctor’s office. I had told the TV people that I’d be home at 10, and it was 9:50 when we left the hospital (and it took 38 minutes to get home, AT LEAST, because of this weekend’s snowstorm). But as I was leaving, I heard a message where they told me they’d had a problem with the garage door and that they’d be half an hour late (so, just in time). I got home, had a coffee, put on some more layers and I was ready to go. They didn’t get to my street, but they ended up like 20 minutes away walking, so my aunt had to drive me there. Pretty shitty so far, right?

So, I get in the car, and I see there’s a guy driving, and she’s on the phone, so I can’t really say anything. They weren’t wearing mouthmasks (but I was, and I was sitting in the back seats), and when he turned completely to check behind him, I fell hard. This guy, I’ll call him J, is GORGEOUS. 100% my type physically (dark hair, a large-ish nose, full lips, extremely tall...). I notice he doesn’t answer much, and that he always speaks Spanish (instead of Catalan, which is the language of the network and, well, the language I speak most fluently). What follows is just too good to be true. 

J is the camera and sound guy, so he kinda goes looking for good shots as the reporter/producer and I are talking, figuring out our talking points. He joins us at one point and starts debating 1984 by Orwell and the movies with the museum guide, and I’m making heart eyes. Then he just drops a fact as he enters this other room about a historic event in 1975, one that I should know but I don’t recall ever knowing. And then, he has to mic me up. Just to be clear, I haven’t touched a guy/been touched by a guy in 6 months, and he is supernice about it. He hooks the mic to my sweater, hides the wire inside of it, hooks the transmitter (I think that’s what it was) to my jeans, hides the wire inside of my back pocket. At this point I’m sweating, and it’s NOTHING. We start filming, and he is just amazing, trying out angles and other producer stuff, but also making very witty comments here and there. 

Once outside, they invite us into the cafe next door and give us coffee and waffles, and he just starts stuffing his face. We finish up and move to another location to film. Everything is going great, until they’re done with my part. And, because we’re on the bridge where my best friend and I made a billion selfies, and next to where we had lunch last year, so I start sending her messages. We’re chatting, and I start sending voice messages, and (because she wants me to find a guy) I say “OMG, the camera guy is sooo hot”. With my mic on, which means he could hear everything. 

We don’t talk at all going to the next location, and the reporter and I go to a praline shop. She goes completely crazy, so she adds it as an indoor location to the list. The shopowner was so thankful that she gave us chocolates to try. She asked us our preference: black or milk chocolate. J says black (same as me). Point to him. Then we’re done there and we’re talking about Bitcoin, and I say something about Big Bang Theory. She doesn’t get it, but he does and just starts talking about it. Again, heart eyes. I stupidly say something about being a complete idiot in front of beautiful boys (because, yeah, I’m stupid). But I think that it’s fine, because I’ve been witty in front of him. NOT. Next 4 tapes are ruined because I apparently can’t remember 3 simple steps, nor do I know how to walk backwards. 

In the central square, J leaves to get images of the typical houses, and I’m left with the reporter, who tells me he had heard me talking about him. I’m mortified, and I see him taking off his headphone so we can have a bit of “privacy”. I tell her I think J is gorgeous, and she kinda laughs at it. She’s so nice that I end up telling her about my ex (¿?), and how I haven’t been with anybody since he left for 2 years. She tells me it’s fine, he hasn’t heard what I said about him, just that I mentioned “the camera guy”. I feel so guilty that, as he approaches us again, I just blurt out “I wasn’t saying anything bad, just that you’re very handsome”. He felt embarrassed, but apparently he decided to mess with me. Next we have hours of slight flirting. 

First when we’re at the “bridge of love”. The myth says that the first person you see when you cross the bridge is the love of your life. We talk about the set-up and all, and we start. As I tell the myth, she jokes “well, we’re the only ones here, so it’s either me or J”. I’m mortified, he’s surprised. We need to do another take. Again, I don’t know what to do. She says, we’re not repeating that, it’s not funny anymore, but he insists on doing it again, and when I ask what I should answer to that, he goes, “you could say, Who knows? that way, people don’t know if you’re talking about her or me”. Fuck this dude.

When we’re getting lunch, he has a hamburger without tomato (just like me). In the car he turns a few times. I’m dying at this point. Finally, we get home, and they’re filming inside. He starts looking at pictures of me throughout the years, which is just awkward. My aunt lets them know that I don’t like to kiss or hug, which apparently is just a cue to start teasing me. And the absolute worst point was when he takes the mic back and says “now you’re free”, and I reply “now I can say what I want again”, and he goes like “yeah, you can”. We just talked for a while, staring at each other. 

My mum says it’s funny, my neighbour says I’m going to dream about him, my best friend is proud of me because I was pretty straightforward. 

Fuck Covid. I would’ve made a bold move. I so wanted to check if those lips were as soft as they appeared.

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 17

Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)

A/N: A MASSIVE shoutout and credit to this dream of a person, @nnevrmind​, who not only gave me ALL of the information on Rome and the historical significance of the places mentioned (and also made me want to visit Rome even MORE now), but also inspired a large chunk of this chapter and upcoming chapters. You’re an actual angel and I’m SOOO appreciative of you reaching out and helping me with this! Thank you thank you thank you!! :) <3 

Word Count: 3,861

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

PLEASE let me know what you think

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

Sleep had never been so comfortable before, which was unheard of for Zoey when she was in a bed that was not her own. She almost thought the whole trip to Italy was a dream. But as she stretched and fluttered her eyes open, a smile spread across her face, looking passed the white canopy that surrounded her bed through the window that overlooked the beautiful acreage of property that the sun shone down on. She wished that she could blink and have this image ingrained in her mind forever. 

Zoey’s phone had automatically adjusted to Rome time, seeing that it was only 7 AM. Her hair had dried after last night’s shower, so she put it in a simple low messy bun, pulling strands of hair out to frame her face and heading downstairs to see if anyone else had woken up yet, deciding not to change or put makeup on as she didn’t know the plans for today. 

The first person she ran into was Nancy who’s voluminous curly dark hair was messy and diffused on her head. She sat cross-legged on a barstool at the kitchen island, still in her pajamas, eating a bowl of fruits.

“It’s early,” was all she managed, the sleep in her voice still evident.

Zoey snorted out a “morning,” when she heard smacking of feet against the tile behind her.

Harry came into view, grinning. His puffy eyes and cheeks made him look five years younger as his deep, raspy voice greeted them, followed by, “I thought I heard someone leave their room. I didn’t want to be the only one up. Coffee?” he offered.

“Please,” she nodded, allowing him to pass.

Zoey decided to step out onto the back terrace and take a seat at the couches by the firepit that was now laden with ash from last night’s fire. The view was incredible. It’s no wonder Italy is considered one of the most beautiful countries in the world. She couldn’t imagine ever getting bored with this. Harry had disrupted her thoughts, stepping out of the french doors that lead onto the stone slab and carefully making his way over with two mugs in hand. 

“Thank you,” she grinned, taking hers and wrapping her hands around it while he sat beside her. 

Harry nodded, placing his arm on the armrest and looking out at the garden, “Incredible, right?”

“I can’t believe people get to live here.”

He nodded, “That’s why it’s one of my favorite places to visit. Never gets old.”

It’s like he could read her mind. Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to make it so hard not to like him? Couldn’t he just be a creepy weirdo like most of the guys she knew? She turned to him, trying to force the thoughts away, and smiled, “You picked an amazing place to stay at. Thank you. It really is beautiful here. All the artwork and old detailing in the house. It makes you wonder how old it is and who all lived here.”

“Well, I had to make sure I picked a place with character,” Harry smirked, “Couldn’t have you come out here and stay at a place like my house in LA.”

She chuckled, only lightly checking his shoulder so as not to make him spill his coffee, “Well, at least I know you’ve got good taste.”

“In some things, I guess,” he turned to her, “I’m alright in vacations and music. Not so great in the girl department, am I?”

Zoey shrugged, “I don’t know. I think you’re pretty good at picking them. You’re just not good at the follow-through.”

“How has she been?”

Zoey knew he meant Aurora. And her heart panged a little thinking he might still have feelings for her. She had noticed the occasional glances between each other last night, and although she wasn’t worried that Rory might make a move, Zoey couldn’t help but wonder if there was still a spark between them or if they regret ending things. Still, he didn’t know about Aurora and Brett, and she’d rather he found out by her than in passing in case he did still care for Aurora and was hurt by being caught off guard.

“She seems alright. Brett asked her to be his girlfriend.”

“Oh. So they’re dating?” Harry asked, earning a nod from Zoey. 

Her eyes lingered on him, unblinking, waiting for a reaction. And hearing those words hurt, but not because Rory was taken now. He was happy for her, genuinely. But it hurt because it was so easy for someone else to do what he couldn’t seem to do. It took no time at all for Brett to figure out that he liked Aurora enough to make it official. This wasn’t the first time this has happened to Harry. In fact, there were several instances where Harry was too afraid to commit that he got beat out by someone else. When would he learn?

Harry nodded, “Good for them. He seems alright.”

Zoey snorted, rolling her eyes, “Just last week you were calling him a...what was it? Little bitch?”

Harry smirked, taking a sip of his still-hot coffee, “I was in a bad mood.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Besides,” Harry shrugged, looking out at the view again, “Maybe the guys are right. Maybe I need to branch out more. I always go after the same type of girls. Maybe I should see what else is out there. Try something new.”

“Uh...hello? I’ve been saying that, too! I mean, there’s no shame in going after the same kind of girls. You like what you like. But it doesn’t hurt to venture. I’ve found it to be fun.”

“Yeah, I know all the fun you’ve had! Mama’s boys, virgins, and guys that are stuck on their exes. Tell me again how venturing has been doing for you?” Harry teased.

“Not fair. Just because I haven’t had any luck doesn’t mean I haven’t had fun doing it. Plus, I’ve gotten free food out of it, so it’s not all a loss.”

Harry laughed before turning to look at her, a smile hidden behind her coffee mug as she took a gentle sip, looking back out at the fields. The sun made her navy eyes look brighter and gave her a skin a soft glow. She brushed the strands of hair that framed her face out of the way and turned to look at him with a hesitant grin when she noticed he was already looking at her. 

“What?” she asked, self consciously.

Harry shook his head, trying his best to sound flippant, “Nothing. Just thinking about how my friends keep joking around saying I should date you.”

He noticed Zoey’s cheeks began to blush as she forced a laugh, sarcastically saying, “Could you imagine? Talk about not your type.”

Harry let out a chuckle, a little staggered by how put-off she sounded, “Isn’t that the point? To date someone who’s not my type?”

Zoey paused, staring at him, her eyebrows starting to furrow as she stuttered, “Wait, I’m confused. Are you asking me to go on a date with you?”

His heart started pounding nervously and a hole formed in the pit of his stomach when he thought he noticed a hint of discomfort in her face. Quickly he stammered, “No! No that’d be weird. I was just saying...nevermind.”

“Well, damn, you didn’t have to sound so disgusted,” she chuntered.

“No, I’m not disgusted. It’s just-” he rambled before noticing the amused smile on her face and realized she was joking. They both let out a laugh and Harry relaxed saying, “We should wake everyone up. We need to get going soon.”

The two recruited Nancy to help, and as they attempted to wake Andy, Aurora, and Katie, Harry couldn’t help but replay their conversation over and over in his head. Was she weirded out at the idea of them dating? Was that really an expression of discomfort on her face or was it something else? He couldn’t recall hearing a tone of annoyance. Maybe she wasn’t completely uninterested. 

What if they did go on a date and it turned out to be awkward or bad? Would it ruin their friendship? He didn’t think he could handle losing her. But what if it went well? What if it was the best date he’s ever been on? What if they actually started dating? He’d always wanted to bring her back home to England one day to meet his friends and family. What if he introduced her as his girlfriend? Surely he wouldn’t hear the end of it from his friends. He could hear the endless amounts of ‘I told you so’ now. 

No, he couldn’t. That’s too weird. They’re best friends. Besides, he practically dated her roommate who is here with them now. Even if Aurora is dating Brett now, how weird would it be to hook up with Zoey on this trip with his ex-fling only feet away? Pretty fucked up.

Over a quick breakfast, Harry explained the plans. He had hired a guide to take them on a tour around Rome for the day. It would be as private as they could manage, as the company was made aware that Harry would be there and they did their best to arrange accommodations so that he could be in attendance without worrying about being hounded, though there was only so much they could do with high-tourist attractions, especially outdoors. He had explained to them to make sure they wore clothes that covered their shoulders and knees in case they visited any holy places to show respect and to make sure they wore comfortable shoes. 

As soon as everyone had finished getting dressed, they all piled into the SUV and headed towards the colosseum where they were lucky enough to find a car park nearby. The group walked the rest of the way, Harry walking in the lead with Nancy while Aurora talked to Katie, and Andy and Zoey linked arms together in the back. They circled the Colosseum until Harry saw a tall, tanned, long, dark-haired man wearing a red lanyard, his muscles popping through his tight, light blue button-up. 

“Please tell me that’s our tour guide,” Andy muttered, looking him up and down, causing the girls to laugh.

“Buongiorno!” the man called out, shaking hands with Harry first, before greeting everyone else. “Ciao. It’s so nice to meet you all. My name is Marco,” he introduced himself before getting everyone else’s name, “I hear you’ve come to Italy to celebrate someone’s birthday?” Everyone turned to Zoey, pulling her forward and she blushed at the attention. Marco smiled and she got a good look at his perfect teeth and beautiful brown eyes as he said, “Ah, Zoey, right? When is your birthday?”

“Tomorrow,” she said, holding his gaze. 

He lowered his voice, a slight smirk appearing on his face, “Well, happy almost birthday to you, then. You stay by me while I show you around. Front row seat to the show,” he winked, earning a smile and a nod from Zoey. If Jess were here to see this she’d shit her pants.

As Marco explained the process of the tour to the group, Zoey caught Andy’s eyes who mouthed, “OH MY GOD!” to which Zoey mouthed back, “I KNOW!” making her little sister giggle.

Eventually they followed Marco, with Zoey by his side, past a long line of waiting people and into the colosseum where he told them all about its history as an amphitheater that not only held gladiator and wild animal fights but also could be filled with water to hold mock naval battles.

Marco talked with such passion and enthusiasm that it was hard not to be interested. Harry snuck a peek at Zoey as they roamed and smiled as she scanned all around with such wonder. He could tell she was really taking in the scene and the information, completely invested in learning more about the history. 

It wasn’t until they were finishing up at the colosseum when someone had recognized Harry. He gave a quick grin and waved at the passing girl, ducking his head a little more as they made their way on over to the Forum, which was just next door. Marco did his best to inform them of the old marketplace, but the group became increasingly more interested in the Italian tour guide, interrupting frequently to ask more about himself, which he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to get enjoyment out of it. 

“Please tell us you’re single, Marco,” Andy boldly said, looking him up and down behind his glasses that sat perched on the tip of his nose.

Marco laughed and nodded, “Yes, I am single. What about you all? Has anyone here found their soulmate?”

Harry felt a nervous pit in his stomach when Zoey snapped her attention to him with a playful wink and he jokingly rolled his eyes at her before Nancy spoke, “Oh, honey. We can all be single if you want us to be.”

To which Rory coughed, “Except me. I’m the only one taken.”

“You have your pick,” Andy flirted.

“We don’t pick women here in Italy,” Marco laughed again and side-eyed Zoey before turning to her and saying, “but maybe the birthday girl was brought here for a reason.”

Harry watched as Zoey’s eyes widened, blushing, and trying to hide a smile while her friends all whistled at them. Annoyance began to sink in. Why was it that Zoey was always getting hit on? Zoey hardly said a word outside of asking more information on the history of the ancient architecture they visited, why the interest in her? Nancy was practically a model in her own right and Marco clearly got a kick out of her considering the number of times she made him laugh throughout the tour so far. Couldn’t he have gone for her?

“What’s next on our stop?” Harry interrupted, changing the subject.

As they made their ten-minute walk to the Trevi Fountain, their last stop before lunch, Katie and Zoey held hands, talking inaudibly with Marco while Andy and Nancy were behind them confessing their attraction towards their tour guide. Harry and Rory dragged in the back, trying their best to avoid eye contact with passerby’s in case anyone noticed them.

“Think she’ll get his number before we leave?” Rory whispered to him, nodding towards Zoey.

Harry shrugged, “Doubt it. We’re only here for the week.”

“I don’t know. You know her, wanting to be more adventurous and all that. What’s more adventurous than a fling with a hot Italian guy?”

“Skydiving,” Harry said simply.

Aurora laughed, looking over at Harry. But when she noticed he wasn’t joking, her smile faltered, eyeing him a little longer than usual before shaking her head, “Well, we’ll see. Maybe she won’t. Either way, she’s having a great time. I’ve never seen her smile so much. She’s like a little kid in a candy shop. It’s so cute.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, finally grinning, “She’ll definitely remember this birthday.”

The Trevi Fountain was packed with people so they couldn’t stay long in fear of it getting too crazy around Harry, so Marco quickly went over facts and the legend.

“Turn your back to the fountain and with your right hand, throw a coin over your left shoulder. One coin means you’ll return to Rome. Two means you’ll return and fall in love. And three means you’ll return, fall in love, and marry. I’ve got a few coins here for you all,” he passed them each one coin and they all squealed, squeezing their way through the crowd to the very edge of the fountain. 

Harry’s been here several times before, and for some reason, this was the part that always seemed to get to him. Out of the hundreds of beautiful buildings and ruins, the Trevi Fountain was always the spot that jerked at his heart. He was the first to throw the coin over his shoulder and stood back to watch the rest of his friends experience this moment. He laughed as Nancy and Zoey screamed at Andy, “Wrong shoulder, you idiot!” after he threw the coin over his right shoulder.

“Fuck! I panicked!” he shouted back.

He watched Zoey take a deep breath, close her eyes, and gently toss her shining coin over her left shoulder, turning just in time to see it ‘PLOP’ right in the water. He saw Marco step up closer to her brandishing another coin and heard him through the busy sounds of the plaza say, “One more. For the birthday girl. Maybe you’ll find love in Rome.”

He felt the heat rise in him, annoyed that Zoey was eating this up. And she wonders why she had such bad luck with guys. These are the type of men that she’s falling for. These typical sleazeballs.

“She better work,” Andy snapped, quietly cheering as she stood beside Harry, following everyone back through the crowd and towards the river to grab some lunch. 

Harry had made a connection with the chef of a wonderful restaurant last time he was in town and was invited to bring his friends for a free lunch, to which he refused to not pay, but did kindly ask if it were possible to have private seating towards the back. The chef graciously agreed, sectioning off a spot for them in anticipation of their arrival. 

Seeing the relationships Harry had made and the interaction between him and the wait staff made Zoey feel proud to know him. Every time she got to see him talk with a fan or someone that held him on any kind of pedestal always put into perspective for her how famous and admired he was. And to see him always be kind was no matter the circumstance was something that made her want to be a better person. She smiled, watching him converse, shake hands, and take pictures and videos with each worker that came up. He caught her looking and shot her a silly face, which only made her smile more. She was sure that this crush phase would be over at some point, but for now, she just loved the fact that this man was in her life.

Besides, at least there was Marco here to distract her for the day. A tall, smart, handsome Italian? Yes, please!  He was very forward, which startled her at first, but once she got used to him she was able to have very nice conversations about interests and even family. He seemed to like how close she and Katie were, expressing that he had a younger brother around the same age whom he was close to. 

“How about any older brothers?” Nancy joked, making them all laugh.

The lunch was incredible. She knew authentic pizza would be good, but she was guaranteed to dream about it for years to come. They all sang their praise and thanks to the chef before heading out. Zoey walked beside Marco, teaching them all about the Vatican, and made their way towards the museum. She took this time to look back at the group, seeing Harry and Aurora laughing with each other in the back. He looked happy. She couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous that it wasn’t her back there with him. It was silly to think he’d be over Rory just like that.

As soon as they got into the museum, her worries of Harry and Aurora seemed to float away as she became completely enthralled by the artwork that was displayed on the walls, the mosaics on the floor, and the sculptures that lined the perimeter. The Sistine Chapel was truly magnificent. Lined with Michaelangelo’s frescoes, you couldn’t help but get a little choked up. Nothing could even come close to describing the pure cultivated beauty. 

But St. Peter's Basilica was even more wondrous, captivated by the enormity and grandeur of the church and its architecture. The way the light shone through the dome of the church, hitting the beautiful artwork surrounding. Zoey was speechless.

Marco explained, “According to an agreement between the Italian state and the Vatican, Rome cannot build a taller building than the chapel. It guarantees the chapel the most amazing view of all of Rome. But, to get to the top you must walk five hundred and fifty-one steps. There’s an elevator that takes you up almost halfway up to the first terrace, but you’ll have to climb the rest of the way. It’s worth it for the view. Would any of you be up for it?”

“I would,” Zoey immediately agreed, eager to see the view.

“I’ll go,” agreed Harry.

“Nah, my ass is not climbing five hundred steps,” Andy shook his head.

Nancy pouted, “I didn’t wear the right shoes. My feet are killing me.”

“I can take them wandering around and meet you back here in thirty minutes to an hour?” Rory suggested, earning nods from Marco, Harry, and Zoey where they broke off and began their climb.

Admittedly, it was tiring. The steps got tighter as they neared the end and they began to feel slightly claustrophobic from the walls seeming like they were leaning in on them. But by the time they reached the top and stepped out to take in the view they were sold. Marco was right, the climb was worth it. They gripped onto the railing, overlooking the city amongst the other visitors that were too distracted to notice them. Marco had run into a friend of his at the top and excused himself briefly to talk to him, but they were too enthralled to care. 

“I cannot believe I’m here and get to see this,” Zoey breathed.

Harry turned to look at his friend who stared out at the view, captivated, with strands of hair flowing in the breeze. He grinned, “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“You don’t understand,” she turned to look at him, almost teary-eyed, “People like me and my sister? We don’t get to go to Italy. We would have never been able to come here if it weren’t for you.”

She was always so genuine and grateful for everything she was given. Even if it was as simple as someone grabbing her a spoon. She must have thanked him over a dozen times for this trip already and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. Zoey stared at him and he was at a loss for words, unable to break his attention from her navy blue eyes. 

Finally, he managed to build the strength to tease, mocking her, “...are we about to kiss right now?”

She laughed, looking back over the city, “I could kiss you right now.”

He swallowed, frozen, staring at the shape of her plump lips, forced to imagine how soft they might be or what kind of kisser she was. Was it sloppy? Stiff? Calculated? How did she taste? Surely she still had a hint of sauce and cheese in her breath after the pizza they just ate. He wouldn’t mind. 

Shit. Maybe his friends were right.

KEEP READING

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Taglist for Somebody To You:

@thurhomish , @stilljosiegrossie , @odetostep , @apples2019 , @stylesmioamore

[dreadnought-dear-captain]

You Asked, I Told and Update

CW: Spoilers for Baghdad Waltz up to chapter 36 and some non-graphic discussion of childhood sexual abuse 

Hello!!!

Wow, I am so, so sorry for falling off the grid like that. I thought I was going to have WAY more time in October/November to work on the fic and work on fandom stuff in general, but my professional life threw me a huge right hook and I got completely sidetracked for weeks. So I’m off schedule a bit, in terms of having the next chapter. I’m sorry for the delay. 

I’m done with the full draft of Chapter 37 (about 23k - “short” but emotionally very dense) and am working through final revisions now. However, I also had to do an extensive amount of 9/11-related research for it, and part of that research has been reviewing oral histories of New Yorkers from the day of the attacks, and I came to the shocking realization that much of the prologue is historically inaccurate. Moreover, it’s shamefully inconsistent with the way that New Yorkers would respond to such an event. I’m embarrassed by how shoddy of a job I did with it.

Thus, I’m also going to be rewriting the prologue and including more accurate details, both historically and in terms of character dynamics. I mean, there’s no way Bucky could even live in Brooklyn and be a first responder at Ground Zero! All the bridges and tunnels were shut down. Shame on me. There will be ripple effects throughout the entire fic. Sigh. This is just round one of the massive amount of revisions I will be doing to the early chapters of the fic, which I wrote years ago now. I was going to wait to post both at the same time, but I don’t want to make you wait that long. I’ll just give you a notification when I finish the prologue revisions, and it’ll be like a little bonus chapter.

Anyway, here are some asks! Starting with a two-parter

First, thank you for the kind words. I’m glad you’re finding this fic moving. It’s definitely an emotional rollercoaster for these characters, and my hope (I guess?) is to have that be a parallel process for the readers. I think you hit the nail on the head that this relationship is exhausting. And you’re also right that not everyone would have the perseverance to keep coming back to it. It would be so much easier to amputate, pack up and go home. But once these characters get back into each other’s orbit, it’s very challenging for them to not keep crashing back into each other. It’s partially because they just love each other so much, but it’s also because they have an unhealthy relationship dynamic that sets them up for these toxic cycles. This will become especially apparent in the next chapter. They love each other, yes, but they also use each other to fill the gaping holes and insecurities they have within themselves. And they’re horrible communicators to boot. It’s a perfect storm. But at least they are going to try out some of this therapy crap maybe…?? We’ll see!

Along a similar line…

Thank you so much. That is so lovely of you to say, and I’m happy that I have your trust with this story. That said, I don’t know if it’s weakness if you’re not willing to run yourself through a miserable gauntlet of suffering the way Steve and Bucky are doing in this story. Would we call Rikki weak for drawing a boundary and stepping away from Bucky when his alcoholism was destroying their family? Some people used other words, but I’m not sure if weakness is the thing that might make someone walk away from a relationship like this. Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you should keep slamming your face against the same wall until you’re black and blue. This is a highly dysfunctional couple, and these men have serious issues they are grappling with personally that make them ripe for this kind of relationship. Bucky is an open wound, crippled with shame, desperate to do anything to feel better. Steve has deep attachment injuries from his chronically ill mother and deadbeat dad, as well as major control issues, and he wants to latch on and fix and make right, and if he manages every variable just right, he really thinks he can do it. And then throw in a fuckton of PTSD and TBI and alcoholism and physical injuries on top of it. So no, I wouldn’t rush to judge yourself for not envisioning yourself gutting it out in this grim scenario. 

But I also think we can identify with at least one of these characters, and we can root for people who want to overcome the shit that life has thrown at them to be with the person they love. Because they really do love each other. There’s just so much noise that it’s hard to tease out the signal sometimes. 

Good call on Bucky being a notoriously unreliable narrator, and he’s someone who is likely to underreport his suffering. Aside from his war-related injuries and his psychological struggles, Bucky’s most symptomatic issues are his GI problems. He has both peptic and esophageal ulcers, which are slightly different creatures. Peptic (stomach) ulcers, in Bucky’s case, have been caused by H. pylori and exacerbated by smoking and drinking. The esophageal ulcer was most likely caused by an excess of stomach acid due to gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD) and, once again, exacerbated by drinking. Both of these have led to nausea, vomiting, lack of appetite, and weight loss. They have really emerged since Bucky got out of the military and pursued drinking with renewed vigor. Though he wouldn’t know it at the time because he doesn’t keep up with these things, his GERD is very possibly linked to acute, high dose exposure to the exceedingly toxic “dust” from the collapse of the World Trade Center towers. It’s one of the most widespread chronic health ailments of those exposed, aside from lower respiratory problems.

And now for some heavy-ass questions from licketysplittt — see CW above.

Yes, I am going to talk more about the context of Bucky’s abuse for sure, so I won’t go into the depths here. But I will say now that you are absolutely right that he has complex feelings for his abuser. I think it would have been easy to write him as just being unidimensionally angry or ashamed, but I know that’s not the experience of everyone who has experienced sexual abuse. This is especially the case if the person who commits the abuse it is a family member or caretaker or friend or trusted religious figure or someone who’s not just a “stranger in the bushes” type. I wanted to try to capture that experience in this fic. Bucky has also been multiply victimized by multiple people over the course of his life, which adds to this complexity and creates an internal narrative for him. Like what does it mean that this keeps happening to him? This is also not an uncommon experience for people who have been abused as children. And there’s also the added piece of this that Bucky’s gay, right? So he’s got this very, very young sexuality that’s on the verge of blooming (your Disney sexuality perhaps, sitting close, holding hands, etc) and this older male is making sexual advances toward him, and so he might ask if this person “saw” something in him aside from his social isolation that made him choose him. These are certainly questions he’s tortured himself over. I will get more into all of this, I promise. 

Winnie and George undoubtedly knew that their kid wasn’t a very popular one. But perhaps they always knew that he was a kid who wasn’t destined to have many friends because he’s “sensitive” or however they would characterize him (I’m sure they had different ways of viewing him). And I think it’s important to take into account the type of household that Bucky was in and the way he would shape his behavior. George was this total wildcard — “Best Dad in the World” most days but a screaming, violent tyrant at these odd, unpredictable times that were fucking terrifying for everyone in his path. This is a house where it’s best just to shut up and create as few problems as you can, because you don’t want to be the one that dad is gonna flip his shit at. And so everyone is walking on eggshells and Bucky is going to get very good at lying about how bad things are. And oh! Jamie finally has a friend, how wonderful. There will be more details in upcoming chapters about how this all transpires, but I think the dynamics at home made it possible for a lot of this to happen. And you’re right that these were not the most skillful parents, and their marriage was very strained and stressful for everyone. And these fictional assholes also frustrate me! The emotional content can be hard to write. It’s one reason these past few chapters have taken me soooooo painfully long. 

Great questions! You are all so thoughtful and kind. Sorry again for getting so terribly sidetracked. I am going to keep plugging away at the chapter and at comments and asks. I’m optimistic that I will have the next chapter for you within the next two weeks. I am pleased with this chapter and hope you’ll like it. Thank you for being so patient!!! 

[acrcsstheuniversee]

Anon Request:

Could you do a dom reader, sub Ringo and sub George threesome thing, with some teasing and sadomasochism? Thanks. (:

A Little Help From My Friends

Pairings: sub!George Harrison x sub!Ringo Starr x male!reader

Warnings: sadomasochism, violence, kink, threesome, humiliation 

Rating: Mature

Words: 2000+

Summary: It’s 1962. You are friends with George and Ringo who started dating shortly after Ringo joined The Beatles. They invite you over to have dinner at Ringo’s house but they set it up in hopes to get you to help them out with something.

Author’s Note: Hey anon! You didn’t specify the sex and/or gender of the reader so I made them cisgender male. I hope that’s okay with you. Otherwise, I just got creative with it, hah. I’ve never written a sadomasochism story. I hope everyone enjoys! I’m kind of nervous. Sorry the beginning kind of drags, so I understand if you skip to the porn. This was a challenge, so please don’t rip me a new one. I also got carried away with the word count.

*This story is fiction and written for leisure. Aspects of this story will not be historically accurate. I do not own The Beatles. I don’t make money off this. 

You rang the door bell of Ringo’s small house with your free hand, the other holding a bottle wine for the dinner. It wasn’t new for any of you to hold a dinner occasionally. It was strange for young men to enjoy cooking so you all kept it among yourselves.

Ringo and George recently told you that they started dating. You noticed they hit it off pretty well since you were good friends their competing bands prior to what well-known local band The Beatles are today.

Loud foot steps were heard from behind the door until suddenly a smiling Ringo revealed himself.

“Hey!” he said. “Long time, no see!”

“Like I didn’t see you yesterday, Ringo.” you laughed, stepping into the house.

Almost immediately, the aroma of garlic and chicken filled your nose and got stronger closer you walked towards the kitchen where you found George wearing a pink apron which looked like it belonged to Ringo’s mom who wasn’t home. He was craving freshly baked chicken and putting chucks of meat onto three plates.

“Smells good in here, Geo!” you said, making him glance to see who it was.

“Hey, thanks. I’m almost done, okay? Just take a seat in the dining room.”

You did as he said and sat at a nicely set up table for the three of you. Ringo came up from behind you and took the wine bottle out of your hand to pour into the glasses before taking a seat himself.

“Okay everyone, it’s done.” George came in holding all three plates and placing them gently in front of everyone. “I hope it came out right. It’ll definitely be better than what you cooked last time, Ringo.” he joked.

Ringo playfully kicked George’s shin and giggled. “Shut up!”

“Alright, alright. Let’s all eat now, yeah?” you laughed watching how much they were getting along.

You knew John and Paul as well, but things weren’t as natural with them like it was with George and Ringo. You weren’t sure what it was but you suspected it was because you slept with a couple of their friends---that were men of course. They were never rude to you about being gay. It seemed more about how awkward it was for them to find out on how many of their friends you’ve slept with. It’s safe to say that you’ve been around. You just teased that they were just jealous that you got more action than them. It was all fun and games, really.

The three of you continued to eat and laugh but the feeling in the room changed dramatically when the both of them started to ask questions about your sex life. It’s not like it bothered you though. You all talked about sex often but it almost seemed like they were interrogating you---especially about your experience in threesomes.

What was that like? Did you like it? How many people were there? Were you okay with that? That turned you on? Did you hurt them? You like hurting people?

“Guys, guys, guys,” you looked up at both of them. They looked scared and glanced at each other as if they were waiting for the other to say something. “What’s up with all ... these questions?”

Ringo bit his lip and stared at his boyfriend until George finally spoke up. 

“Well... w-we were wondering if... erm...” he dropped his eye contact with you and started to toy with his food. “...if you would show us-- or uhh... well, tell us more about threesomes...?”

Your eyes widened. Ringo and George were both staring at the table in embarrassment, scared to hear your answer.

You adjusted yourself in your seat and thought to yourself how funny this all was. You weren’t offended at all. You were actually quite flattered they even asked. Before the silence can go any longer, you just said, “Yes.”

Both of their heads perked and their faces lifted into small, shy smiles.

“Is this part of the reason why we held this dinner in Ringo’s empty house?” you teased.

Ringo turned red and nodded hesitantly. You smirked and stood up, making your way to Ringo’s room. Ringo and George looked at each other, unsure what to do until you yelled, “Well, I can’t show you if you’re over there now, can I?”

You heard them jolt up and made their way into the room where you sat at the edge of Ringo’s full-sized bed.

“Sit, both of you.” you said sternly, patting the spots on both sides of you. They complied without question. These twinks know exactly what they’re doing. “Well, go on then.”

They looked at each other before leaning over you to kiss one another, right in front of your face. You stared at the way their lips folded over each other and their tongues occasionally making an appearance as they slipped into each other’s mouths. Ringo slipped his hand onto your crotch and started to rub your already existing bulge. George moaned into their kiss as it got wetter. You can tell he wanted more. To help him out, you unbuttoned his jeans impatiently and snaked your hand under his slacks to grab his hard penis then started to pump, making him moan into the kiss again.

At this rate, you felt yourself getting bored. You let go George’s dick and pushed them apart.

“Take off your clothes, now.” you ordered. They stood up and obeyed again but this time even quicker. You stood up too and walked up to both of them and just stared at their bodies.

“Umm-” Ringo croaked out but was immediately interrupted by your hand quickly traveling across this face, making him yelp from the sudden strike. He held his cheek and stared at you with his big eyes. You looked down and saw Ringo’s dick only stiffen out more, making smirk. 

“Shut up and both of you bend over the bed.”

They rushed over and did as you said close together. You stared at their tight, pale asses and began to undo your belt, wanting nothing more put to make them red and the room fill with whines. Both of their cheeks clenched when they heard the sound of the metal buckle jingling, making you smirk. You folded the belt in half, holding the ends together.

Without any warning you gave both of them lash on the ass, making them squeal. “Oh two have been bad. Thinking nasty things.” You lashed them again, making the pink appear.

“We’re sorry. W-We just wanted-” Ringo talked again. You towered over him, having your hard member pressed against his ass through your jeans and wrapped the belt around his throat, pulling it to make him gasp for air.

“I swear to god Richie, you talk so god damn much.” you growled into his ear, pulling the belt more, making his back arch. George just stared as his boyfriend chocked under your belt, feeling his dick twitch at the sight.

“For that, you’ll be first.” you said as you unbuttoned your jeans with your other hand to release your member. You spat into your hand and coated your dick with it.

“Wait, I-” Before he could finish his sentence, you shoved your dick in his ass, making him yell. You pulled the leather around his neck tigher as you pumped in and out of his heat, forcing him to arch his back more. Ringo just moaned through his teeth with his eyes shut, feeling the pain and pleasure of how rough you were being.

You looked over at George who patiently waiting his turn. To give him some attention, you coated your pointer and middle finger in spit and squeezed them into his ass. The thin man moaned at how sharp the penetration was and gripped the sheets.

After about a minute, you stopped everything you were doing and instructed them to get fully on the bed. You had Ringo lay down, George on all fours with his ass to you and his face in between his boyfriend’s legs.

You lined yourself up with George’s hips and inserted yourself into his heat, causing him to moan. You pushed his head down to swallow Ringo’s cock and held him there by gripping his hair. Ringo started to moan you made George deep throat all while fucking him from behind. George was tighter than Ringo by a lot. You can tell he was very new to all of this. No wonder he was quiet.

Your free hand slapped George’s already pink cheeks over and over again as you pushed yourself into him. The room was filled with sounds of their moans, gagging, clapping, and slapping--just how you liked it.

You stopped slapping his ass and reached around to stroke his leaking penis. You pulled his head up from sucking off Ringo to arch his back to fuck him harder.

“Nnnghhh.. Ah! ...Mmm, ahh!” George whined through his wet and swollen lips. Ringo stared and stroked himself at the sight. You looked right into Ringo’s eyes as you continued to fuck his boyfriend roughly right in front of him.

You smirked before moving your grip in his hair to around his throat, allowing all five of your digits to tighten to make him gasp for air.

“Tell Ringo how good this feels...” you whispered into his ear as you stared at Ringo.

George peeked at Ringo with his half hooded eyes and croaked out, “Richie... It feels.... nghh... so good...” Ringo began to stroke himself faster after hearing his boyfriend’s strained voice.

“Good boy... now cum... but I want you to look at your boyfriends face when you do it,” you began to speed up your thrusts and jerked his dick faster.

George forced his eyes open to stare at Ringo who continued to jerk off. The thinner man felt the heat in his body move to his crotch as he neared climax. He felt every hard thrust in his asshole, making him slightly shake before his member released its load on the sheets. “Ngghhhh... fuck...”

You let go of him and pushed his limp body off to the other side of the bed to crawl over to Ringo who hasn’t quite finished it.

Your eyes met his baby blues and without even saying anything, you made sure he knew you were about to destroy him. Ringo bit his lip as you gripped the insides of his thighs and pushed them up giving you perfect access to his entrance. You inserted yourself once again and slammed inside of him, making sure to hit his g-spot every time. The smaller man let out sinful noises as you went balls deep. He was so pretty and more experienced than George was. You let go of his thighs, leaving marks where your fingers were and moved one hand to grip his throat.

He began to gasp for air, placing his hands on yours in attempt to peal them off but was interrupted again but a slap to the face by your free hand. Ringo’s dick began to leak precum. He loved it.

“Your the worst one, you know that?” you said, slapping him across his red face again. “I love seeing you helpless.”

“I-I’m... going... to cum,” he squeaked out.

“Yeah? Do it. With no touch.” you smirked.

You tightened your grip around his throat, making him close his eyes to focus on breathing and cumming without any stroking as you continued to pound into him.

“Hurry up!” you whacked him again, making him wince at the sharp pain that remained on his cheek.

“I-I’m ...mm...” he bit his lip as the sensation in his lower body built up. “Nnnghhh...” groaned as his semen squired onto his stomach, laying limp from the painful pleasure rushing through his body.

You let go and pulled out of him and began to stroke yourself to prepare for your load.

“Both of you come here.” you ordered.

George perked up from his high and crawled over to meet your dick face-to-face as did Ringo. They looked up at you and opened their mouths with their tongues out.

“Oh fuck...” you moaned as your pumped your dick, twisting your wrist at the top. They looked so good when their faces were all red and sweaty--just visibly worn out.

After a couple more seconds, your load came hard onto their faces. They closed their eyes as drips of your cum sprayed onto their cheeks and nose--most of it landing on George.

You collapsed onto you ass and laid back onto the bed. The two of them wiped the cum off their faces and crawled over to you, cuddling up to both of your sides. You wrapped your arms around both of them and stroked their backs gently.

“How was that?” you asked with your eyes closed.

All you got was a small nod from both of them as they began to doze off and that was good enough for you.

The End

[erikismybitch]

Drillmonger:Conclusion part 1

This conclusion will be 2 parts .

_

It was finally happening. After nearly a year of flying as an international crew member , she was finally flying to Africa. And because the universe hated her , as she thought , Candy was running late . In her heels and uniform she ran through the terminals in search for hers . She was at the Heathrow Airport in London, a major connecting hub and a middle ground for overseas flights .

By faith , Candy made it to her gate , spotting the passengers lined up to board the plane . They couldn’t start the process without her .

“I’m so sorry you guys , my Uber driver got lost!” Candy lied to the other crew members . Truth was , she had overslept.

“Girl they are pissed that we are six minutes behind schedule “ she teased . Candy knew her as Maria, a bubbly Mexican girl who she’d flown with before . They weren’t necessarily friends, but they could relate to each other . Candy laughed and dragged her carry-on down the tarp and onto the plane.

This flight was a long one . It would take them eleven hours to fly into the beautiful East African country of Wakanda. Candy began to quickly do her pre flight duties . She stocked food in the rolling carts , made sure the blankets made it to each seat and all entertainment tablets were functional.

“We are now boarding” the head Flight attendant warned to the crew .

Candy stood in economy awaiting the passengers. As soon as the people began to load , she assisted them with their carry-ons and stowaways . There was such a shift in Candy’s work ethic . Usually her smiles and upbeat speech was a part of the act . This time it was genuine . She would be spending three full days in East Africa. On the third she had to head back to work . Her itinerary was already planned , three days full of exploration. The historic museums , hiking through the beautiful mountains and eating everything she could fit in her mouth .

The plane taxied along the runway and awaited take off . Candy stood in the middle of economy and did the safety belt and air passage demonstration . The pilot informed them of take off and the crew took their seats .

Once they reached the correct altitude the pilot turned off the seat belt sign and everyone was free to move about the cabin.

What Candy didn’t know was that her trip plans would soon take a shift . Erik was taking the long journey to visit his family after four years .

Erik was on that very same flight .

Candy had been so distracted by her lateness that she didn’t see him waiting in line to board the plane. But he saw her and it made him happy... it made Erik very happy.

Seeing her was like a light , that lead him from the darkness that had been his life without her . She looked good , he missed her. At first instinct he wanted to walk up to her and hug her. Even if that was too much , he just wanted to feel her body on his. It had been so long, even a handshake would do .

“Alert: B-2”

Flashed across the call screen. It flashed each time a passenger called for assistance.

“B-2, that’s in first class right?” Candy asked the group . They all let out a laugh at her naiveness, even Maria who spoke up first .

“Yeah, you’ve never served first class?”

“Always economy “ she told them .

Maria told her that she was assigned to first class for this flight. And that first class passengers were almost always ass holes. Maria asked if Candy wanted to switch and she complied .

The alert signaled again . Why not, Candy thought . She figured she might meet someone with connections and they could suggest some great places to go on this short trip .

Candy walked carefully to the first class section of the plane . Seeing nothing but a man with headphones and a beanie seated in B-2. The famous smile that was always plastered on her face slowly faded as his face came into view. She couldn’t believe that Erik was before her.

A year had almost passed without any communication on his part . Candy felt that she had finally gotten to a place where she wasn’t affected by his absence. She had blocked his name from her brain. She had even had sex with other men.

Then what was this feeling of silent panic . Erik hadn’t even opened his mouth to speak a single word . He looked up at her and slid his headphones off of his ears. Erik’s dimples imprinted in his cheeks with his small smirk . “Can I get a blanket or somethin’? “ he spoke as if this transaction was platonic . As if he and Candy had no history at all . “Please?” He let off his full blown smile now, after he noticed that Candy wasn’t the least bit amused.

“Sure thing “ Candy gave him an answer just as platonic as his question . She avoided looking into his actual face and walked to the back of the plane. Maria noticed the look on her face upon her return . She just assumed that the first class passenger was rude . “I told ya”

“It’s not that” Candy told her .

“What is it ?”

“Just a familiar face”

Maria asked if it was an ex boyfriend, Candy told her it was . She didn’t want to get into the actual details of their situation . Maria offered to take the blanket to him also . Candy thanked her because she didn’t have to do her that favor .

The flight was five hours in . Candace was off her A-game. Erik’s presence really threw a wrench in it. She dropped a drink on a passenger, she got a food order wrong , she even chipped her nail. Seeing how stressed out she was, the lead attendant advised her to take a quick break . She sat in the back and took a couple sips of cold water. Her hands were shaking . Fuck him for making me feel this way! She screamed out , but only in her head .

“Alert: B-2”

Unfortunately her break was cut short . Candy was the only person in the back who could answer the alert . She looked around for Maria, she was tending to a passenger .

“Do you think you can check on B-2, everyone is busy” the lead attendant called softly to her . She obeyed his order and dragged herself to the front of the plane . The lead had just asked her to take this break. “Fuck” she mouthed and approached his seat . She wasn’t smiling , nor did she say anything .

“How you been?” He asked , Erik had been purposely pressing the call button all flight . He finally reached Candy.

“I’ve been busy Erik, like right now” Candy’s voice cut at him with so much venom , it caught the attention of his seated neighbor .

“You mad at me or something?”

Candy let out a huge breath of frustration . She wanted to scream at him, and release all of the pain he had caused her. This situation wasn’t worth her job, she had worked too hard to get here .

“Do you need anything sir?”

“So I’m sir now?” Erik laughed , and how cute he looked when he laughed angered her . She kneeled down and leaned in close to him. Then spoke only for his ears to hear .

“Don’t press this fucking button anymore ”

“I ain’t mean t-“ he began to speak but Candy stopped him.

“Sir, do you need anything else ?“ Her friendly hand patted against his shoulder.

“Nah, Im good”

————

This wasn’t the first time Erik had seen her. He was in her city not long ago . For the first time since the last time they had spoken.

“Hope you didn’t scratch my shit” Erik has gotten to a point where he was rude with everyone. Especially when thoughts of Candy clouded his brain. He was speaking to the hotel valet .

The gentleman gave him keys to his rental car. Compliments of a night club, a midnight matte Ferrari 458. Erik was scheduled for an appearance that evening . It was moving past midnight and now was the perfect time to go. He and a few other socialites were getting paid for it .

The only thing . Being this close to Candy without seeing her bothered him. Next month would make it month seven since he indirectly broke things off. After he left her house and never spoke to her again.

It came to the point where he was passing her exit , he found it funny that he remembered it . Even only after visiting her once . He remembered everything about her . The way she laughed at everything, even if it wasn’t traditionally funny . How she smacked when she drank out of a cup . Even her hate and sustain for football.

“Because I don’t understand all the rules , it’s so stupid!”

She told him one night as they laid naked in a Las Vegas Hotel . They had sex all night , and in the morning Candy almost missed her flight from exhaustion.

He pulled his phone out and swerved through the lanes , Erik was tempted to call her ... but it would be no use . Especially after she sent those many unanswered texts to his phone .

You unfollowed me , what going on?

Erik , so after everything ... this is it ?

I don’t know what I expected from you .

Fuck you .

Erik had read those texts over and over throughout time, even the ones from the beginning. When they were happy . He couldn’t delete them yet.

Someone’s Horn honked as he sped to the exit and tapped into his mental memory to find her house . Erik knew she was home. He had checked her Instagram story earlier .

Erik parked his car directly across from her house. The lights were off and he didn’t see her car in the drive way either . He glanced at the clock .

It’s 12:46 am. Where the fuck was she at this late?

He wasn’t quite sure what to do , or why he was there. Walking to her door wasn’t an option, Candy made it clear through texts that she hated his very existence. Erik had avoided coming to her city for just this reason

It was 1:03 when her living room light came on. Erik was just about to leave . He spotted London through the thin white curtains. She came into view , in her robe and bonnet . Unknowingly Erik’s face turned at the sight of her. “Wheres my girl?” he said to himself . He tapped impatiently on the steering wheel.

London fiddled around the living room for a couple of moments then cut the lights off again. He gave himself another moment before he pulled off , just incase .

Still nothing .

Erik started his engine with the smack of his teeth and left .

“And what was you gon’ do if you seen her?” He downtalked himself as he sped back to the freeway . He put the club address in his navigation and set off to have a good time tonight . Erik would get drunk off the free bottles of liquor and have a cute girl come with him back to his hotel .

Only he didn’t . He spent his night disconnected from everything in V.I.P. Sulking in the corner. Thinking of how much he missed Candy and how much better he felt with her in his life .

______________

Candy was so happy when the plane landed and all the passengers exited the aircraft . She and the others did a cleaning sweep and de-planed . When Candy walked into the gate, she spotted Erik standing . She knew he was waiting for her . His back was turned and she had the option of not being spotted. She watched him for a second , still looking from behind at his wide back and commanding stance . She thought about a time in the past . Where she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head between his shoulder blades. He pushed her away screaming about how “...he didn’t do shit like that!”. Candy laughed to herself because later on he did the same thing to her . Only, she didn’t push him away. She never did .

Something told Erik to turn around , when he did he saw her . Candy was stuck , he was walking towards her now. She looked around , oddly enough it was just the two of them .

“Can you give me a second?” He finger tipped his hand around her arm so she wouldn’t get away .

“I’ve given you too many seconds “ Candy took her arm back and placed it at her side.

“All I need is one more”

He walked over to a near by seat and sat down. Erik slouched inwardly and spread his legs for comfort . Candy couldnt help but to find his dick . With a straight face she snuck a peak at his print through his pants . That thing was worth listening to , or listening to Erik. Right ?

She sat down directly across from him . “We don’t have much time, we have a shuttle taking us to our hotel “ Candy noted the time , the shuttle would be leaving in twenty six minutes.

“You good, I’ll have my people take you to your hotel”

“You can’t control this situation like you always do, I’m catching my shuttle “ Candy contested with unnecessary attitude , Erik felt it . He clinched his jaw, trying not to scare her away with what he really wanted to say . “And who are your people ?” Candy asked .

“My family, that’s why I’m here”

She had forgotten that he was from here, Erik told her that it had been a long time since he had visited . “What’s the occasion, a funeral or something?” Candy’s expression softened.

“No, nothing like that” he expressed as if he was saddened by something . Erik knew just how to play on Candy’s emotions. She couldn’t help but to get up and take the seat next to him .

“Why did you decide to come back ?” She asked again.

“As corny as it sounds, I’ve been doing some soul searching and it lead me back home “

Erik grazed his fingers along Candy’s hand . It was resting along the armrest , until she allowed Erik to hold it . His gentleness surprised her . In the past she had to show him how to be this way . He leaned his head into her vision, making sure she looked into his eyes.

“Soul searching ?” Candy repeated .

“I been thinking a lot about you “ he tightened his hold , it made her wince .

“After all this time” she glanced at a monitor near by and clocked the time. “I gotta go”

Candy attempted to lift from her seat but Erik pulled her back down. It wasn’t alarming, he was still being gentle .

“Think I can see you , while you’re here?” He asked . Candy hesitated and thought of an answer , that let him know that she would be here longer than overnight.

“I’m only here for three days and I have plans”

She stood up, he let her hand go as he stood with her . Erik let her know that he only needed a small moment of her time . She agreed to call him once she got things settled at her hotel .

“Me being on this plane , it has to serve a higher purpose. Things happen for a reason” Erik stressed , as if he was trying to further convince her to see him .

“I told you I would call you “ she read right into him as she gripped her carry on and began to walk away . She only had a few minutes to catch the shuttle.

“Don’t make me come find you !” He called out , grabbing the attention of strangers around him. He had no shame , because he would .

[pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles]

Slow Hands (Girls Talk Boys part 3)

Fingertips puttin' on a show Got me now and I can't say no

Each chapter has a song title attached so I could keep my files straight on my phone but it ended up really working so I kept it.

Warnings: drinking, smoking, drug use and cursing and a little bit of smut

Previous Chapter

Camille was on edge. Her entire body hurt from dance practice. It was only the second day but she was dying. She adored dancing and she adored Tom but it was kicking her ass. However she might  lose a little of the weight she'd accumulated over the past year. Stress eating was one of her many weaknesses. Tom was being so patient and sweet. Camille was determined to do her best for him. She played “Fly Me to the Moon” on the speakers and went over her dance steps as she organized the studio. The house still wasn't put together and the mess was getting to her.  She hadn't been able to find her favorite pen in four days. The last time she'd seen it was the night they'd moved in and also the night she'd last seen Calum. She frowned at the thought swore to herself she wasn't bothered. She heard the guitar downstairs and knew Luke had come over for his lesson. Luke had managed to find an excuse to pop in to see Cher every day so far. Camille thought they were cute together.

Cher had asked Luke to teach her guitar and he in turn had asked her to teach him how to draw. It became not so much a lesson as a conversation featuring beer, artwork and a guitar. Cher could not remember seeing blue eyes like that before. The way his smile faded into serious concentration and the way his blonde curls fell in his face when he played made her swoon.  It was impossible to focus on the learning guitar when she kept staring at the way his fingers moved. The only thing that kept her from getting totally overwhelmed was the fact that Luke was a huge dork. A tall beautiful goofball. Cher sat back on the couch with her feet tucked under Luke's thigh and began to sketch him as he played. Cher was usually too intimidated to draw the  guys she was into. She was amazed she felt so comfortable around him. It was a shame he'd never make a move. After a while Luke realized what she was doing and began to strike silly poses and make faces. Cher threw her pencil at him and went to get them another beer. When she came back she noticed Luke had set his guitar aside and was biting his lip nervously.

Cher began to set the beers down on the coffee table when she felt Luke grab her arm and her waist at the same time pulling her into his lap. “What're you doing” she asked him. “Kissing you” Luke murmured against her lips before his mouth was on hers. Cher moaned into his kiss shifting herself so she was straddling Luke. Tangling her hands in his hair she pressed her body down on his growing bulge. She was glad he'd worn basketball shorts instead of his usual skinny jeans. Between that and the thin material of her dress there wasn't much fabric between them.  Luke bit her bottom lip as his hands slid the straps of her dress down exposing her naked breasts. His thumbs flicked over her pierced nipples causing her to shiver. Luke then twisted and tugged ever so gently causing a growl to erupt from the back of her throat.

Cher pulled back from Luke's mouth and pulled his hair back exposing his throat. She began working from his earlobe to his collarbone nibbling, sucking and kissing until Luke was a squirming moaning mess under her. Cher moved her lips back to Luke's consuming both of them in a deep kiss. Cher had one hand behind Luke's head while the other slid into his shirt her fingers grazing his chest and stomach. Luke's breaths became faster and more shallow as Cher continued to rock against him. She felt her own sensation grow as Luke moved to regain some control by kissing and biting on her neck.  It was too late Cher kept up the steady motion of her hips against him. “Please I'm gonna..don't” Luke pleaded into her mouth as his hips thrust upwards against his will seeking release. Cher was so close as she pressed her chest into Luke's, and buried her face in his neck. Her fingers would leave tiny bruises as she gripped his shoulders. “Oh God please” Luke whispered as Cher rubbed herself down into him finding her release pressing down onto his lap. “Yes Yes Yes “ she hissed into his ear placing her hand between his legs stroking his erection before she continued to grind on Luke. His eyes flew open as he whined “oh fuck ” and Cher felt his hips buck underneath her violently as he came.

Cher was still in his lap when Luke raised his head his blue eyes meeting hers. “That's never happened before I'm sorry” he mumbled. Cher shushed him with a little kiss “don't apologize I'm the one who did it” she smiled at him. She'd never made a guy cum in his pants before and the fact that it was sweet beautiful Luke turned her on even more. Cher wanted nothing more than to drag him into her bedroom and fuck him until they made each other sore. She didn't want to move to fast and have Luke catch feelings. Cher didn't want a relationship and guys never believed her when she said that. Guys who claimed to be cool with a friends with benefits package always turned needy and clingy once they realized she had no need for a boyfriend.  Cher didn't want to think about all that right now. She stood up still between Luke’s outstretched thighs. Pulling her dress straps onto her shoulders she bent down and kissed Luke lightly on the tip of his nose. “You can use the bathroom to clean up if you want “ she whispered to him before stepping back and heading to the kitchen to get some water.

Behind her she heard Luke get up and shut the door to the bathroom followed shortly by footsteps descending the stairs. Cher saw a flash of pink out of the corner of her eye followed shortly by a hushed voice “please tell me you didn't fuck him on the couch. We just got it.” “We didn't fuck” Cher replied matching her low tone “we didn't even take our clothes off.” Camille wasn't buying it “that's not what it sounded like and you've got a big wet spot on your dress so.” Camille and Cher both froze when they heard the bathroom door open. Camille reached into the fridge trying to act normal as Luke walked into the kitchen. “I should probably get going and oh hey Camille” Luke stopped when he saw her. “Oh hi Luke, did you have a nice lesson” Camille kept her tone light but she saw Luke start to blush. “You could say that” Luke mumbled looking at his feet. It was then that Camille saw the wet spot on the front of Luke's shorts. Her eyes went wide darting to Cher who quickly shook her head shooting back a look that said “don't you dare say it.”

Instantly Camille regained her composure “Cher I've looked through this entire place three times and I still can't find my pen are you sure it's not in your room” she asked changing the subject. “Cam I swear I've looked through my room and my car and it's not there” Cher rolled her eyes. Luke suddenly laughed and both girls looked at him. “It's bright pink and really shiny?” Luke asked. Camille nodded and felt her stomach drop. “Calum has it” Luke told her turning to Cher “Babe I gotta go, text me later.” He gave Cher a hug and then kissed her on her forehead and her nose smiling at her before turning to leave. Luke was halfway out the door when Camille found her voice. “Wait why does Calum have my pen” she called out. Luke's voice echoed back at her “you'd have to ask him.”

“That night on the back porch” Cher teased her. “He must've kept it”

“You're saying he stole it? It's bright pink.” Camille was trying to remember any details beyond Calum's presence.

Cher texted Luke who quickly replied. “No, no, no Luke says he got high and put it in his pocket. He forgot he had it till the next day.

“You and Luke seem to be getting cozy very quickly” Camille winked at her.

“He's gorgeous and fun, what do you want me to say” Cher was laughing.

“I thought you liked Ashton” Camille raised an eyebrow.

“I like them both. You've seen how hot Ashton is, or did Calum distract you from noticing any of the other guys” Cher was still giggling.

“Oh I noticed, you know I adore Tom already. Harry is gorgeous, but he's entirely too charming. Makes me suspicious. Ashton is dead ass sexy, but we would not get along.” Cher held up her hand and Camille stopped.

“How can someone be suspiciously charming?” Cher questioned

“That man could charm the feathers off of a bird and the scales off a snake. He's Lord Byron. Mad, bad and dangerous to know, but in like a good sexy way”

“You know it turns me on when you drop historical references into conversation” Cher dodged the towel Camille threw at her. “You and Ashton are too much alike. Both of you want to be in charge. What about Luke? Hmmm?”

“Luke? Be serious, he's been all over you like a beautiful labradoodle since we got here. He is insanely good looking and seems really sweet. Try not to snatch his soul would you?” Camille was only half joking.

“He is so beautiful.” Cher sighed “He's fun too.”

“I see that, you should probably change your dress” Camille replied, her phone buzzing.

“You should worry less about me and figure out how you're going to get the nerve to ask Calum for your pen back” Cher was interrupted by a loud squeal from Camille.

Looking towards her friend Cher saw her go deathly pale to bright pink flushed. She was afraid for a moment until Camille broke into the biggest smile.

“I'm gonna be on ESPN. Stephen got me on as a guest fantasy analyst.” Camille was almost speechless, if that were possible.

“That's amazing. When?” Cher was excited as she was.

“A couple weeks. It'll be as fantasy drafts really kick in” Camille suddenly felt panic mix with joy. What if she didn't look good enough for tv.?

Cher saw the clouds move in on Camille's sunshine. She crossed the room and wrapped the smaller woman in a hug.

“Camille don't doubt yourself. We've come all this way to start over. You left him behind, now leave what he said behind with it. We moved out here to this gorgeous place. We've got Cody. There are super hot guys crawling all over this place. You've already got one so caught up that he's hijacking your stuff.” Cher felt Camille relax as she pulled away wiping tears.

“ I don't know why I get like this.” she sniffled.

“Listen, he had a long time to tear you down. It's going to take a while to build yourself up again.”Cher told her. “We need to get you laid.”

“Calm down. Let's get my pen back first.” Camille changed the subject.

“Oh he's in the plans for both” Cher teased her.

“He's got a girlfriend” Camille rolled her eyes but she couldn't help but feel a bit excited to have a chance to see Calum again.

Chap 4 Pink Lemonade

[peacefulwriter88]

Never Good Enough - Chapter 6

Sebastian Stan x PoC, Chris Evans x PoC

You randomly go on a blind date, set up by your friend Anthony, with Sebastian Stan. Due to the awkward interaction you are convinced that the date ends badly due to your cultural background.

When you run into him years later, can he re-win your heart?

Warnings: M for Mature (language, mild angst)

A/N: I swear if you keep up with this story things will look up for Sebastian. I swear it. But you know, you gotta have the angst. So there’s that, Anthony being an obnoxious big brother who gives the best advice and bubbly drunk Chris.

“Where are you headed?” Anthony’s voice shakes you as you look up from your phone, surprised to see your best friend earnestly standing in front of you versus being in his room. The was over with interviews for the first day, and Anthony typically coordinated a time to talk to his wife and children before he would escape in whatever city you were in, trying to find a few hours to explore the city in the form of dinner.

You didn’t want him to know what you were up to even though by the way he was smiling down at you, a knowing smirk on his face, you knew otherwise.

He knew exactly what you were up to.

“What do you mean? I’m just sitting here, catching up on some news via BuzzFeed…”

He rolls his eyes, taking the hotel lounge chair across from you as he watches you intentionally,

“Sebastian and I were thinking of grabbing dinner. He went to invite you but lo and behold you are down here. In the hotel lobby. He send you a text to meet you down here so you can both leave without me?”

You shrug nonchalantly, reverting your eyes back to your phone. Trying to ignore the smile that was fighting your way to your face. The idea of Sebastian trying to steal time that didn’t include Anthony thrilled you – you knew that Anthony had been an obnoxiously good job of interfering with interactions with the both of you for weeks now. You weren’t sure why and quite frankly had stopped trying to fight but it was complimenting that Sebastian wasn’t giving up.

Like you could deal with that right now. You were trying to figure out your other feelings. Your silent as you contemplate this, before you give into Anthony’s heavy gaze. Finally you huff out,

“What?!”

“You really not going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“We’ve been on this press tour for what, like a month now. The whole time we go out you are rocking sweats or leggings or whatever but you aren’t leaving your room outside of work hours looking like that.”

He was referring to the tight jeans you were wearing, taking advantage of your company’s black card to make some purchases that you normally would talk yourself out of. Your jeans fit you perfectly and were paired with the black leather jacket that helped disguise the flowy blue top you were donning, the heels teeing off your look. You had curled your hair and thrown it in a high ponytail, adding some clips ons to give it some real volume. This was the most make up you had put on outside of premiers so you knew exactly what he was referring to.

You looked damn good.

At least, that is what Alicia told you when you facetimed earlier to double check the look. She was the only friend that you knew would pick up at this hour, California being hours behind London at the time.

But you weren’t going to tell Anthony that. No, instead you were going to play dumb until you couldn’t anymore.

“Maybe I wanted to….” You falter as he gives you that look and you groan, falling back in your seat.

“I don’t want you to make fun of me.”

“I won’t.”

“I don’t want you to tell me I told you so.”

He snorts,

“I can’t. I’m just surprised that you gave into Sebastian? And that he got your number. First Evans, now him?”

“Wait, what? Sebastian?”

Anthony quirks an eyebrow up.

“You’re not going out to dinner with him?”

“……no.”

Silence, then Anthony is chuckling, falling back in his seat.

“Damn. Evan’s moves quick.”

“Shut – it’s not like that!” your flustered as Anthony watches you amused.

“Uh huh. Sure it isn’t….”

More silence.

“You really are juggling two men’s heart right now? Remember how you’ve been on a slow go for months now and look – now you got TWO dudes after you.”

“That’s not whats happening! Sebastian doesn’t like me like that, never will. And I don’t know about Chris – we just want to go out for dinner tonight.”

“That’s not true at all.” Anthony counters and you fall back in your seat in defeat, looking at him.

“What do you know?”

“Well – two things. Chris demanded that I have to give him your number because he wanted to ask you if you he could treat you to dinner, alone. He made sure to reiterate that. That he was taking you alone. And then after that, Sebastian asked if I’d join him for dinner, but only because he wanted to ask you and he wasn’t sure you’d want to go out him alone. I mean, despite that text that I got from Tom made creeping on you and Chris, I still had my money on Sebastian and you spending the night out together...”

You blink at Anthony for a minutes before you ask,

“What creeper photo of me and Chris? What did Tom do?”

Anthony shrugs, digging in his pocket for his phone.

“Tom took this photo of you and Chris in the hallway and boy is it steamy. Shared it with me asking if this was thing. Wanna see?”

You nod, desperately shaking your head. Tom Holland, adorable little gentleman and unwanted paparazzi. You’d find a way to get back at him.

Anthony isn’t able to show you the photo, his attention is distracted, temporary losing his train of thought as he looks at the elevator.

“Oooo, guess you have to find out another time. Looks like your suitors are on their way over.”

You turn, following his gaze as you watch Chris and Sebastian walk out of the elevator. Both of them are wearing dark blue shirts, the material hugging around their biceps. Chris had opted for dress pants and Sebastian was donning jeans – both were advertising scruff that peppered their defined jawlines. You couldn’t tell which you liked more – the clean, put together look of Chris or the simple causal outfit that Sebastian wore.

You groaned. You were so fucked.

“You are soooo fucked….” Anthony sings lowly, repeating your thought out loud watching your reaction and you turn to him, leaning over enough to punch him in the chest.

“Ow! What was that for?”  

“You are not helping the situation right now.” You mutter as you lean back and turn, smiling at both of them. Telling yourself what you always did when you went on a date with a hot attractive man that, as Chris neared with his eyes finding yours with ease, you were realizing may be way out of your league. Which was absolutely nothing because you never went on dates with hot, attractive men. Basic men sure but not fucking movie stars.  

“God you’re right.” You moan under your breath and this causes Anthony to laugh, clutching his still sore side as Sebastian diverts his attention away from his phone, a large smile on his face. He’s stopped in front of you all along with Chris who is also watching in mild amusement and you feel like this is one, awkward fuck show as he asks,

“Hey Y/N! I was just looking for you – was going to ask if you wanted to join Mackie and I for dinner,” his eyebrow furrows, looking from Anthony to yourself to Chris, taking in the situation before he asks, “What’s so funny?”

You shoot Anthony a look before he stands up, shaking his head.

“it’s just how Y/N treats me when she knows I’m right. Doesn’t happen often but when it does its painful. Which is probably why I choose to be wrong.”

You roll your eyes, following his suite and standing. Missing the way both men look you over as you straighten yourself quickly and Anthony rolls his eyes. Regretting instantly suggesting you to join him on the press tour, knowing what the next few hours – months –  are going to be filled with.

“Let’s head out Seb. Chris already beat us to it – he invited Y/N out earlier so maybe next time.”

You don’t even have a chance to read Sebastian as he looks from you and Chris, watching him trying to figure out what was going on between you and his counterpart. Anthony is quick to drag him away, leaving you with the tall, handsome Boston native who is towering over you, giving you a bashful smile.

“You look very beautiful.” It’s a simple comment but its sincere and you try to disguise your blush as you give him a playful push.

“You look pretty handsome. But I guess that’s why you’re Captain America.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he offers his arm.

“Shall we? I have a fun evening planned a head of us.”

You try to contain your shaking as you lace your arm in his and nod.

“We shall.”

You realize way too soon that you had taken Chris Evans for granted. You were sure that the night would have been filled with attending a stuffy restaurant, followed by a cheesy walk around the city and ending early at your hotel. For some reason, you were sure he was going to find out that you were really an insecure nerd who spent too much time reading up on historical facts, comics, failing on DIY projects while you read articles on the way to enhance your musical instruments. You could only put up the facade of sassy, strong and independent woman for so long – easy to slip behind the guise at work where you thrived the most – in a world where you put up barriers because it was the easiest way to protect yourself from disappointment.  

Instead he takes you to an English pub, deep in the heart of the city where he buys you the cheapest yet most delicious beer and bangers and mash, and you both end up chatting for far too long at the bar, teasing each other as you ingest the meal.

Its only when one of the regular’s hits on you, challenging you to a game of darts that you shift your scene.

“C’mon stranger. You want to tell me that you’re better than me and your cute guy friend at darts.”

“Yes!” you insist, standing up from your chair and grabbing your beer.  “And I bet you a round of beer that I am.”

Both men take the bait, following you to the dart board where, unsurprisingly, you lose. In fact, you get one bullseye and some tacky throws that don’t amount to anything that you immediately attest to the strong beer. However, both men find it amusing, your confidence spiraling with your bad throws and the strangers ends up buying you and Chris a round instead, telling stories about how the nworld was shifting for the worse so it was nice to make two nice friends and boy – didn’t Chris remind him of that Captain America fella?

The comment comes continually throughout the night and causes you to laugh and agree that he did look to familiar to the Captain America man much to Chris’ delight, who is becoming a slave to the alcohol and good company, getting louder with each story he retells as he throws a protective arm around your, ensuring to all the men in the place that you were accounted for.

It made you feel safe being tucked in his arms, his muscles swallowing you into safety. So you chid past you around 9:30, the part of you that set a alarm for 9:30 pm because you knew that you both had early mornings and wanted to be responsible. You didn’t want to leave the fun, the safety, the newness of being with someone like Chris in a foreign city but you can’t ignore the responsible adult in you, and you force Chris out of the bar, only after you give into his insistence that he would settle the tab.

“After all,” he says, smiling down at you with that adorable large grin on his face, “that is what gentleman do on first dates.”

The comments has you soaring, so much so that paired with alcohol, you almost eat shit the moment you leave the pub. Stilettos and old world cobblestone were not a solid combination, especially paired with two, strong beers.

You laugh as you almost fall, Chris easily catching you and drawing you to him, chuckling at your clumsiness and he shakes his head saying,

“You know if you just want to touch me, you can just ask. I’m not opposed at all.”

You give a mock gasp, smacking him before you giggle out,

“That’s not it at all! I may have just over-estimated my ability to walk in these heels tipsily but to be fair I didn’t think I’d be this tipsy tonight.”

You’re gripping him, giggling harder as you let the alcohol run loose in your veins. He smiles as he looks at you, helping you straighten out.

“You were doing a really good job up until you met cobblestone. So we can opt to do two things. We can choose to take a cab back to the hotel,” you nod somberly as he continues, “Or I can give you a piggy back ride and we can walk around a bit, being super touristy to help sober you up a bit. Fresh air might be nice.”

You’re sure he can feel your heart increase at the idea of getting a piggy back ride from him. It was every girls dream.

“I choose the piggy back ride for $400 Alex.”

He laughs as he stands in front of you, squatting before he says over his shoulder,

“Just jump on and I’ll take it from here.”

You know the small moan you make is heard by him, can tell by the way he chuckles as you easily climb onto his back as he says,

“Something you’d like to share?”

“Nope, not while I’m on you like this.”

He laughs, standing up and your surprised at how high your lifted, giving a playful glee as your arms tighten around him. His hand bites into the sides of your thighs, hands meeting flesh, muscle and fat and starts moving with ease.

“You’re really cute when you play the shy game.” He comments after a while.

“I’m not being shy.” You admonish, resting your chin on his shoulder and you could hear the low rumble of a laugh start. You give him a squeeze with your thighs and he laughs as you say,

“I’m not!”

“Ok you’re not. Shy’s usually my number when I’m around a really attractive woman. Except with you…with you it’s different.”

“Why is it different?” The beer has you feeling more bold, unafraid to respond as you ingest his compliment about you. You can feel his muscles flex as he shrugs,

“I don’t know. You make me feel comfortable. You have this energy about you that’s contagious. You act confident, strong, sure of yourself. Not afraid to be honest – to say what it is. It’s refreshing to be around…not a lot of people built that way anymore. Too afraid to listen and say what you think.”

“Ah,” you answer, finding comfort around him. “Anthony likes to call it my bubble of arrogance.”

Chris laughs, shaking his head.

“I think Anthony doesn’t like that you challenge him and are right when you are. You’re not arrogant. You don’t say things without thinking through your words I feel. At least, from what you’ve allowed me to see.”

You bite your lip, debating it.

“I’m pretty prideful, competitive, stubborn but you haven’t brought out that side of me yet but overall I just try to be….I don’t know…I try to be a good human.”

Another nod,

“All we can try to be is a good human at the end of the day. And hey I’m equally prideful and competitive and stubborn. You should see me around football season – I can be unbearable.”

You laugh as he continues,

“Also, I don’t think you realize how much shit you give me. You’ve got me all dazed out, especially after your earlier little tease.”

His voice is lower, and you can feel your cheek heating up as you groan.

“Oh, yea about that…” you instinctively try to hide yourself in his shoulder, shielding yourself from him like he could see you in your current position. He stops at a light, adjusting your weight before he squeezes your thighs.

“I liked it. Like it when you’re a tease.” He whispers back, and you can’t help but smile before he asks, his voice a tone lighter,

“What I really would like to see are those mad piano skills you were bragging about earlier. You can’t claim that you remixed Benny and the Jets and not think I was not going to forget that. That’s a karaoke classic.”

You laugh as you tighten your hold around him, your mouth inching closer to his ear,

“Find me a piano and I’ll prove you wrong.”

He opts to walk around with you for thirty more minutes, your weight an afterthought as you both continue your conversation. By the time you make it to the hotel, remembering that there was a piano in the hotel bar, he knows he’s in trouble.

In trouble because he was attracted to you.

It wasn’t the allurement of your body anymore. No, that was the generic layer that had intrigued him, drew him in. It was you.

You were different. Your honesty was alarming, your ability to express your opinion without reservation intrigued him. You provided a different perspective, a lens he knew he would never know because of the privilege of being a white male. But you challenged him on social topics, provided a different way to view the world with the perspective you hold. How that stemmed insecurity at times but also a sense of spontaneity – taking chances and being comfortable voicing yourself because you were inevitably always going to be judged being who you were. Might as well do it being honest to yourself and others.

He liked your kindness, how you were intentional to get to know the people at the bar. How you asked him questions to understand him better, questions that weren’t laced with fake sincerity. Your humbleness and humor that you hid behind laughter, pushing it away like it didn’t matter.

You were genuine with him, was aware of who he was – his celebratory – but was unphased by what that meant for his character.

He liked you. And the realization of that, the prospect, terrified him.

“You going to continue to stand there looking like a deer in headlights or are you going to join me over here?”

Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts and his eyes shift to you, smiling as he takes a seat next to you on the piano beach. He’s overwhelmed by your perfume; the vanilla scent overpowering the small space and can’t help but lean into you as your hands dance over the keys with ease.

“So not sure if this is the right crowd to impress with a Japanese pop remix of Benny and the Jets,” your eyes flicker over to the small crowd of older professionals and he chuckles as you look back at him, “but I think I can come up with a pretty good jazz rendition.”

He feigns like he’s thinking really hard on the prospect and you nudge him as he laughs, shaking his head.

“Sounds great – really, any version you come up with.”

You smile as you stop your idle playing, looking at the keys for a minute before you place your fingers on the keys, starting to play off the recognizable tune from the talented Brit and he nods his head along to it. And then the melodies switch, differing from what his ear had been trained to expect, shifting in a way that was earthier – lighter. He watches you with awe as your hands move quicker, getting lost in the music in your head as the melody continue to evolve, capturing the attention of the few occupants in the space. They watch in awe as you play, a slight smile on your face as you nod your head, forgetting about him – where you were at. He could see the shift in you, the ease as you get lost in this world, the music, and he can’t help the smile that forms on his face.

Utterly in trouble.

You finish the song after a few minutes, being rewarded with a few claps from both the bartender and the occupants and you shake your head, taking a deep breath as you look over at him.

“What was that shit talker? Something about not believing I could put a beautiful twist on a classic?”

He chuckles, laughing as he turns toward you,

“You were right – I was wrong I will give you that. But you can’t blame me; its Elton John!”

“Which is why I will forgive you. Just this once.” You kid, leaning into him and you both stop, staring at each other. He takes in the way your eyes drink him in, large pools watching carefully as your mouth twitches into a soft smile. You lick your lips and he can’t help but watch the moment, infatuated by the idea of tasting you, wondering if you felt the same.

Fuck it. He’d never know unless he tried.

His hand comes up to cup your face, brushing your cheek as he leans forward. You don’t move, and he can feel your pulse quickening against the skin on your neck as he draws you closer, his lips brushing against yours, testing to see if its okay. Its enough as you lean into him, your lips brushing against his own like cashmere, warm and sweet and he gives a relieved sigh as you place a hand on his shoulder. He wants it to be sweet, wants to pull away to tease you – its what he’d normally do – but he’s addicted, drawn into your spell. Instead his tongue flicks against your skin, questioning and you oblige, opening your mouth to let him kiss you deeper and he’s gone. Dizzy from the way your tongue easily glides with his, slowly, patiently, teasingly and he groans as his hand wraps around your neck while his other one grabs your wrist, pulling you closer to him.

It was addicting being kissed like this – a first kiss that was fueled by lust and alcohol but something else and you moan into his mouth when his thumb brushes against your exposed skin on your waist, causing you to shudder and he fights his cock from twitching in his pants because you deserved far better than sex on a first date even though he would happily take you here if you’d let him.

He didn’t want you to think you were just sex for him.

He wanted you to know that you meant more.

It’s when you both hear someone clearing their throat do you pull away, the motion happening so quickly you almost fall backwards, and he catches you easily as the bartender awkwardly places two drinks on the piano.

“Wanted to say I love that version of Benny & the Jets and these are on the house…. I’ll ugh….leave you both to it.”

You can tell he feels awkward for interrupting the intimate moment and you watch him, your lips flush and puffy before your eyes return back to Chris and you smile shaking your head.

“Smooth Evans, real smooth.”

“I didn’t know he was going to give us free drinks! I totally would have planned this better if I did….” He draws off and you laugh, snuggling closer to him, resting your head on his chest. Your hesitant at first and he easily wraps his arms around you, drawing you closer to him.

“I know.” You whisper, wrapping an arm around his waist as you go for a drink. He takes his cue, grabbing the left over before he rises it, placing a kiss on your forehead before saying,

“To a great night. And many more to come.”

You smile up at him, your eyes glistening with contentment and nod.

“To many more great nights.” You agree, and he bends down to press a quick kiss on your lips. When he pulls away he asks,

“Would it be too soon to ask you out to breakfast?”

You laugh and shake your head.

“Give it a few hours and I’ll let you know.”

You’re both too far gone, to enraptured with one another to notice Anthony and Sebastian walking in to the hotel lobby, obviously tipsy from meeting up with old friends. Can’t realize that as the two wait for an elevator, tipsy eyes roaming the hotel lobby, they fall upon you both at the piano.

“Think she’s trying to teach him how to play. Lost cause that one.” Anthony jokes but Sebastian’s eyebrows are furrowed because he knows differently. Knows differently when you stop playing, staring at him before Chris leans into the kiss.

And the way you lean back into it.

“Hey man, the elevator is here.” Anthony says, his voice is more silent as he nudges the tall Romanian in. Cursing the shitty timing of them rolling in, no longer able to joke about how pissed off you were going to be when they were hungover tomorrow. He had been able to temper some of Sebastian’s curious questions about Chris and yourself but he couldn’t deny what had just unfolded in front of them. And for once in a long time, he feels bad for him. Because Sebastian was really different, changed, maturing and still growing and he knew how much he really liked you.

Sebastian follows in blindly, trying to think through what he was feeling. Silent. A silent Sebastian was dangerous – he got lost in his head and started overthinking things – creating anxiety in the space he was in.  Anthony knows it – can sense it, knows that the earlier events was running through his head and is hesitant before he says,

“Listen I wasn’t going to get involved but damn you can’t have those puppy blue eyes and expect me to not say anything,” He sighs as Sebastian turns to him, his face confused and forlorn tearing at Anthony.

“Fuck! Listen – I know that you like Y/N. Don’t try to deny it anymore I see it dude. It’s so obvious. And no small wonder but Y/N is into you too but…. Sebastian you gotta step up more dude. Chris made it known how he feels about her. Made it known what he was willing to do to win her over. That he is willing to go the extra mile for her you know.  You’ve been nice but I’m nice and we’re friends. You gotta work thirty times as hard if you want a chance with her…. because you still have one I think. She may never admit it to me – but I know that she likes you. She was actually pretty happy that you were going to ask her for a date. But damn, you gotta man the fuck up Sebastian. You’re fucking Sebastian Stan, blue steel wonder and pecks for days. Show her that.”

The elevator dings on his floor and he heads out, shaking his head. Then he stops, turning around.

“I’ll even stop cock blocking and allow you to take her to lunch alone from now on. But put some damn effort in man because you can’t blame her for wanting Chris over you right now. She doesn’t even know that you’re into her. In her mind, she’s just this unattractive woman of color that you’re stuck working with. And that’s the shit you’re going to have to combat.”

He leaves Sebastian on the elevator, even deeper in his thoughts.

Why the hell would you think that your race had anything to do with I’m finding you unattractive? Or that he wasn’t into you at all?

How bad did he damage you all those years back?

Tag List:  @xgminigypsy @zohoffman @ssweet-empowerment@capsofwinchesters @tacohead13 @harleycativy@pietrotheavenger @francezka10 @papichulosebastian@obsessionsofmynerdheart @melaninmarvel @avengedqueen26 @nasteaxluvgal @winterbuttmunch

[sterekgala-blog]

Sterek New Year’s Extravaganza Schedule 

Welcome to the Sterek New Year’s Extravaganza! The SNYE is a month long event created for the relationship between Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale (Sterek). During the months festivities, we would have hoped to have helped in producing a wide range of new content to kick off the new year! 

We will provide a months worth of prompts, and all you have to do is write a fic or draw a pic related to whichever prompts you decide. You can choose to do one, two, or even all of them if you’re feeling up for the challenge! The event will start on January 1st and end the 31st. 

Posting on AO3: To have your work appear in our collection you’ll have to follow these simple steps. First, you’ll need to long into your AO3 and go to our collection page (here). In the top right corner you will see the words ‘Post to Collection’.

Once you click this button, AO3 will direct you to the Post New Work page. There is where you will post the work you have been working on. All you have to do before you finally post is make sure that you are posting the work to our collection. You can check that you are by simply verifying that our name is present in the Associations box. MORE INFO HERE

Also, here is the link to the TAGS for each day. 

SCHEDULE 

Monday January 1st— New Year’s: To start off our festivities, we believe that the inclusion of a New Year's theme is called for. You’ll get to explore the many possibilities of what New Year's means for Stiles and Derek. Whether it be: a kiss at midnight, a pack new year's get together, meeting at a new year’s party, or even helping the other keep their resolutions. It could be as fluffy or as angsty as you desire!

Tuesday January 2nd— Time Travel: From a blast to the past to a leap into the future, your imagination can run wild. Will Stiles or Derek get caught between a spell that transports them to a different time period? Will time traveling be a common thing in their society? Will Stiles or Derek make a scientific breakthrough in manipulation of time and space? Whatever it is, don't hold back as you let your imagination take the reins.

Wednesday January 3rd— Humans: You know how this goes guys, any and all things human are embraced! From high school aus to tattoo artists anything goes as long as its human. Youtuber Stiles introducing his followers to his grumpy boyfriend, photographer Derek trying to focus on his model and not the talkative intern, or maybe just our amazing boys taking a relaxing stroll through the park. Anything goes!

Thursday January 4th— Historical AU: This is your chance to create that Pride & Prejudice AU you’ve always been planning to write. Or maybe your take on a Hamilton AU setting? Maybe take us on a journey to 17th century France! Whatever it is, live it up to the fullest as you write our favorite boys making their mark in the history books.

Friday January 5th— Crossovers: Whether you write Stiles being best friends with Jughead Jones, or Derek being roommates with Lance from the Voltron universe, you have the choice to write those interactions as you please. Will Harry Potter and Hermione Granger be the two that finally get Stiles and Derek on a Date? Or will Stiles and Derek find a way to weasel their way into becoming members of Alias Private Investigations, with Jessica Jones? Regardless of the situation, draw or write it as best as you can and have fun.

Saturday January 6th— Pining: Ahhh the sweet slow burn of pining. Having Stiles admiring Derek from afar as Erica relentlessly teases him about it. Or Derek losing his focus every time Stiles attends one of his basketball games. Wherever you decide to take this prompt you are guaranteed fluff in all of its forms. You can decide if it’s a case of obliviousness or if they are both just too emotionally constipated to realize that the other has fallen for them. Whatever you end up choosing to do just make sure it has a LOT of pining in it.  

Sunday January 7th— Childhood Friends: Who doesn't love the childhood friend trope? Especially if it’s Sterek! This prompt could be either supernatural or human au setting. You could create it as them starting young and growing up, or you could have them had grown up together as the bestest of friends who are now testing the waters on starting a new relationship. All that matters is that the bond of childhood friendship changes to something romantic. Simba-and-Nala-fy that ish!

Monday January 8th— Enemies to Friends to Lovers: The classic ‘I hate you to I love you’ romance. Where they both have conflicting agendas or ideas that causes a rivalry against one another. For example: Stiles and Derek being rivals in a sports competition, them going against one another for class president, or simply Stiles not liking Derek because of his jock façade and Derek not tolerating Stiles because of his ‘know-it-all’ complex. Whatever the case may be, have it all lead up to them settling their issues and realizing that instead of hating one another, they are actually in love.  

Tuesday January 9th— Fake/Pretend: The possibilities are endless with this theme. Whether it be Stiles pretending to be Derek’s mate for a werewolf convention, or Derek needing to help Stiles fool his family on a family vacation. Have it as fluffy or angsty as you deem necessary, just remember, make it make believe for the majority of the work.

Wednesday January 10th— Long Distance: This theme is a contender for being possibly one of my favorite days. With having the possibilities of Stiles being away at college or Derek moving away to New York for a well deserved mental retreat. You could have one of them get sick (probably Stiles. Seeing as his diet is just curly fries + coffee. That is not good nutrition Stiles!) and does a terrible job of pretending that they are fine over the phone so the other doesn’t get upset. Or them constantly visiting/calling/skyping one another because they can’t last more than a week apart. No matter the reason for the distance, just have it them being/wanting to be together while being apart.

Thursday January 11th— Neighbors: One of the things the fandom seems to love most is Neighbors Au’s. This can be when Stiles and Derek borrow sugar and flour from one another, or they find themselves in the middle of a ‘thin wall’ trope. Regardless of if Stiles annoys Derek by blasting his obnoxiously loud “study” music, or if Derek’s alarm clock is legit the reason why Stiles begins to hate existence, you have the power to let your headcanons go wild.

Friday January 12th— Friends With Benefits: The phrase “let's keep it casual” starts this type of relationship, which always leads to one or both getting noticeably attached. Yes ladies and gents, this is the lovely FWB relationship! They could start their agreement on a drunken night, or when one of them just needs a good rebound. They could both just gotten out of a long-term relationship, and in a moment of clouded emotional judgement fall into bed with one another. This prompt could be super angsty or really painfully fluff/annoying due to their obvious obliviousness to the fact that they are basically already in a relationship.

Saturday January 13th— Mates: Soulmates and werewolf mates are definitely nothing new to this fandom. In fact, it’s probably the most common trope we have on this this. Nonetheless, whoever says there is such a thing as too much of a good thing, is dead wrong. Write about how Derek knowing that Stiles is his mate, but not acting on it. Ooh, or the one where your soulmate's first words to you appear on your arm. Whatever you decide, just make sure it revolves around them having a sort of mating bond drawing them to one another.    

Sunday January 14th— Getting Married: Whether it be them planning their wedding, crashing a wedding, showing up at the other’s wedding, or walking down the aisle. Wedding fics will always poke at least one or two feels in your heart. Have them picking out their cake together and Derek shutting down Stiles’ idea to have a Star Wars themed cake. Heck, you could even have them being in the middle of an arranged marriage! Be sure to be romantic and maybe a little bit overly dramatic as you create your perfect wedding scene.    

Monday January 15th— Roommates: This theme is, again, a contender on being one of my favorite days. Mainly because of all the possibilities! You could have Sterek rooming together in college, or Stiles needing a roommate for rent money, and the Craig’s List Gods produced a grumpy Derek Hale. Or, you could create it as them being jealous that one of their friends get roomed with the other instead, because, “Derek sleeps NAKED?! Fuck that’s ho— ahh—horrible! I can’t believe you get to— I mean have to, yeah, cause gross— live with that, Scotty.”

Tuesday January 16th— Secret Relationship: Oh the painful world of secret relationships is guaranteed to make you shed a few tears. Maybe Derek and Stiles don't want to tell the pack just yet? Maybe Derek isn't ready to come out of the closet? Maybe Stiles has a homophobic grandmother that he can't seem to break the news to? Or, maybe they just want to keep it secret because the pack is already going through enough as it is? Whatever the case may be this theme is the perfect recipe for inner turmoil and angst.

Wednesday January 17th— Magic Mishaps: Now this theme right here is a sure fire way to get yourself thinking outside the box! Anything from witches blasting curses and hitting a member of the pack to Stiles messing around with an ancient spell, this theme is a wildcard for all things magic related. Maybe the pack switch bodies with each other? Maybe Derek gets hit with a spell that makes him saying everything he's thinking? Maybe they all start speaking different language and can't communicate with each other? Anything that has to do with magic not going exactly as the pack planned is what we're looking for with this theme, so don't be afraid to play around with it!

Thursday January 18th— Werebabies: Ahh the fluffy fluffy trope of werebabies has arrived! This fandom is very well versed on the concept of werebabies, and here is where you guys get the chance to show us your expertise in the wonderful world of baby weres. This can be: the pack's babies shifting for the first time, Stiles and Derek adopting an orphan werepup, a random werebaby being brought to Stiles and Derek's door step, or even one of the pack members turning into a werebaby! As long as there's a werebaby in there for us to coo at then it's exactly what we're looking for.

Friday January 19th— Royalty AU: Time to make our two favorite boys into the princes and kings they were born to be. This is where Derek Prince of Spain gets into an arranged marriage with Stiles the heir to the Polish throne. This is where King Stiles refuses to marry because he is in love with his royal guard. This is where Derek, the new pharaoh, defies all the laws and marries his overly talkative servant. This is where Stiles goes against his father, the Roman Caesar, to have a relationship with Derek, one of their fiercest gladiators. Modern or ancient this theme is a celebration of all things royalty, starring Stiles and Derek, so don't miss out!

Saturday January 20th— No Hale Fire: Here is the theme where we all get to erase the Hale Fire from our memories and let Derek with his family and pack. This theme can be anything you want it to be as long as it features the Hale Pack in all of it's glory. I'm talking Laura teasing the hell out of Derek, Talia being the best goddamn alpha ever, Cora not taking anyone's shit, Derek wrestling with his younger cousins, and so much more! Anything goes in this theme as long as we get to see the Hale family being together.

Sunday January 21st— Harry Potter AU: In this theme you'll be able to put Stiles, Derek, and the rest of the pack in the wonderful magical world of Harry Potter. They can be students attending Hogwarts together, professors teaching at Hogwarts, aurors in training to take down he who shall not be named, or even writers for the daily prophet going crazy over the return of the boy who lived. However you choose to interpret it this theme is where Harry Potter lovers get to put Stiles and Derek in on the action.

Monday January 22nd— Road Trips: Ever since Stiles and Derek arrived at Beacon Hills together in season 6 the fandom has gotten a thirst for these two out in the open road together, and this theme is here to quench it. Will the entire pack take a much needed vacation away from Beacon Hills to see the beautiful sights scattered throughout the U.S? Will Stiles and Derek be fighting over what music they'll listen to as they drive the Jeep all the way back to Beacon Hills to save everyone's asses yet again? Anything that has our two boys driving around for miles to get to their destination is completely acceptable, so put on your shades and jam out to Life is a Highway as you take on this prompt!

Tuesday January 23rd— Alpha & Emissary: It’s a common theme, and the best part about it is that it works well for both canon AND AU! The only rule to this theme is that it has to heavily feature an Alpha and an Emissary. You could make the Alpha/Emissary pair someone else and make them an enemy for Stiles and Derek, A new pack to join, Or of course have Stiles and Derek being they all powerful dynamic duo that they are. Maybe even it’s their kids that take on the coveted leadership roles. It doesn’t matter who they are, how they work in the story, or what universe it’s in, as long as they’re present and you keep it Sterek, it fits!

Wednesday January 24th— Moving In Together: Here you guys get to have our boys moving in together! It can be Stiles moving into Derek's loft after they've been dating a while. Them buying their first house together, or Derek rebuilding the Hale house for him and Stiles. It could even be them getting a place together when they're freshly out of college —because being an adult is expensive and at least they'll be living with a ‘friend.’ Let yourself have some fun with this one!

Thursday January 25th— Getting Back Together: Now, this trope is sure to tug at a few heartstrings. Getting back together is always going to play with your emotions. You angst lovers are sure to have a field day with this one, and it's not hard to see how. In this theme, you get to dive into a world where Stiles and Derek have already broken up and were pushed together yet again. It could be because it's Erica and Boyd’s wedding, and they wanted both Stiles and Derek to be there. Or maybe they just bump into each other again at a club after not speaking to each other for months. Whatever the reasoning for their reunion, they're forced to see each other face to face again, and they decide to give what they had one more shot! I'll need to remember to buy tissues for this day.

Friday January 26th— Fraternity: College aus are definitely not a rarity in this fandom, but fraternity aus specifically aren't very common, and they have so much potential! Just think of Stiles and Derek in rival frats and pranking the hell out of each other! Or Derek taking a freshly pledged doe-eyed Stiles under his wing, or a very drunk frat boy Stiles trying to get into Derek's pants at a party and Derek not knowing what to do about it. So many fantastic fun and amazing content to be created with this trope so don't hold back!

Saturday January 27th— Bodyguards: This is a trope that I personally enjoy very much and would love to see more of in this fandom. It can be anything from a celebrity!Stiles flirting with his grumpy bodyguard, to the first son!Derek not understanding why the hell his bodyguard never shuts up, to maybe even a mobster au where Stiles is the ruler of the underground world with Derek who makes sure nobody double crosses him. The only limit is your imagination so don't hesitate to let your thoughts take control.

Sunday January 28th— Scene Stealer: Similar to our crossover theme, however, with the scene stealer theme you get to take Stiles, Derek, and the rest of the pack into the universes of your favorite movies, books, or shows, only this time they get to steal the spotlight and make the moment theirs. Whether it be Stiles and Derek doing the dirty dancing lift or them saying the oh so known words of Alec ‘I don't want the world I want you’ Lightwood, this theme is sure to portray your favorite scenes in a beautiful Sterek-y light. If you’ve ever thought “Hey this scene would have been SO much better as Sterek..” then this is the theme for you!

Monday January 29th— Partners In Crime: You can never go wrong with this beloved trope as you depict Stiles and Derek as the unstoppable duo we all know they are. You can make it as intense as Stiles and Derek being hitmen that are constantly 3 steps ahead of the feds, or as lighthearted as kid!Sterek helping each other steal cookies from under their parent's noses. Which ever route you choose to take as long as these two boys have each other's back it's fair game.

Tuesday January 30th— Meet-Cute: Ahhhh meet-cute, the theme where everyone's inner hopeless romantic comes to the surface. This is the theme where you go full out on all things fluffy! I'm talking coffee shops, bookstores, dogs, doing that cliche thing where they bump into each other and everything falls on the floor and their hands touch and they look into each other's eyes! Basically, if it’s cheesy enough to be part of a hallmark movie then you're on the right track.

Wednesday January 31st— Mythological Creatures: Our last day of festivities is my personal favorite, mythological creatures! From demons to pixies this theme has endless possibilities! The teen wolf fandom is so stranger to playing around with mythical creatures and we're not planning on stopping any time soon. Mermaids, faes, nymphs, angels, vampires, demons, were-creatures, you name it! They're all welcome. What better way to get creative with your favorite myths and legends than with our two favorite boys?

We’d like to make sure word of this event spreads like wild fire so that we can start off 2018 with a bunch of new Sterek content so we’d greatly appreciate it if well known blogs help us spread the word, such as: @pale-silver-comb @homemadesterekpie @dontgobrienmyheart @halekingsourwolf @sterekhalelinski @thesparkandtheking @acollectionofsterek @benaya-trash @andavs @stiles-and-the-sourwolf @nogitsunelichen @haletostilinski @always-the-little-spoon @ajeepandleather @bleep0bleep @hysteric-for-sterek @imagine-sterek @nerdderek @nerdysterek @nothingbutsterek @strictly-chaotic @hashtag-hale @ask-haleinski @derek-and-stiles @annoyinglycute @ryvetted4 @wheredidhiseyebrowsgo @stileswithderek @stilesandderek @redhoodedwolf @scruffysterek and so many others in this wonderful fandom.

And if you don’t have many follows DON’T HESITATE TO REBLOG THIS ANYWAY because every little bit counts! 

We can’t wait to see what you lovelies create for this event, now have fun and create to your heart’s content!