an au (inspired by this post) in which Annabeth is a mob boss and Percy is her ocean photographer boyfriend. Shout out to Hannah for being the best beta ever and for headcanoning this au with me pretty much non stop for the last few days.
The fluorescent lights of the interrogation room flicker, giving it a strange glow that makes Percy’s eyes hurt. His fingers tap the beat of some pop song that had played on the radio earlier today onto the metal table that sits in front of him. The table is cool to the touch despite the warm, stale air that hangs in the room, and the accompanying metal chair is starting to make his butt numb despite it only having been here ten minutes.
Shuffling sounds begin emanating from the door in the corner of the room across from Percy, and soon it creaks open. First to step through is a tall blonde man with piercing blue eyes. His athletic build fills up the doorway as he pauses briefly to appraise Percy. Percy appraises him right back, noticing a scar on the corner of the detective’s lip and half of a tattoo that peaks out from under the cuff of his sleeve.
As soon as the detective steps into the room, another enters behind him. Her posture is impeccable and she walks with her head held high like she’s a warrior entering battle. That can’t be good, Percy thinks afterwards. She has on a royal purple blouse that pops against her brown skin, and her black hair is pulled into a braid that cascades over her shoulder.
“Hello, Mr. Jackson,” starts the blonde detective. “I’m Detective Grace and this is my partner Detective Arellano. Thanks so much for agreeing to come down to the station today to talk to us today.”
Percy smiles with a calm confidence, “Of course. Always happy to do my civic duty.”
He opened his eyes to see the white bedding against his skin. Tom squinted against the morning light as he shuffled between the sheets, careful not to wake you. The countless disasters that he created by doing that, he knew not to wake you until after a certain point. As he got up, his skin prickled with the lack of warmth your body radiated from under the covers, he twisted, looking over his shoulder down at you. Sleeping soundly, hair ruffled, your features soft and warm. Comfortable and safe. You face was lit up due the orange sun shining through the curtains. He couldn’t help but smile. His heart bled for you, for every giggle and every hug and every kiss. Tom couldn’t imagine harming you.
But he did.
Four months later, during the filming of Homecoming, you decided to surprise him. You hadn’t seen each other in months, so you thought it could raise some spirits, put the smile on your face that he was recently lacking the ability to do. The last time you talked, on a cell phone even, was a month ago. It was silent. All you ever got was his same old voice mail or a dry text about he was busy and he wished you good night. You didn’t bother texting Harrison or Jacob, you didn’t even have contact with Zendaya.
You were tired of this. Maybe this visit would rekindle the relationship. You could only hope. You sat down on the plush bed in Tom’s house that he rented in Atlanta while filming. It was nice, it had a large outdoor space and a modern kitchen, the living room stacked with movies you both love to binge occasionally. You gazed longingly at a photo of the two of you, you were laughing at some cheesy joke he had made while he was staring at you. You could see the love in his eyes, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he still did look at you this way. You heard that the spark of long-term relationships eventually ran out. But it was you and Tom, an undeniable force to be reckoned with. The both of you agreed on mostly everything, and there was never a dull moment. You both knew when to stop and when to start, what was right and what was wrong. He fit into your heart like a puzzle piece, and he had permanently glued himself there. But now… the glue was cracking and soon as you realized this you were on a plane within seconds.
Toms place was like your home back in England, where you had moved in with him two years ago after dating him while you were going through your first-year college and decided to make the leap after a year of countless dates and safety hugs. You thought maybe he was the one, and you sure were set on that after you moved in together. But now looking back on it you realized you were young, and maybe, just maybe, you could’ve pushed yourself too much on him. Maybe, just maybe, you were wrong.
“(Y/N),” Tom said in disbelief.
You dropped the frame in fright. You had zoned out, not even hearing him come in. You swore softly under your breath as you looked down at your feet where smashed glass and a broken metal frame laid on the wooden floors. You scowled, ignoring the mess, your only focus on him.
You watched as he dropped his keys on a table beside the door and kick his shoes off, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the look on your face. He hadn’t smiled when he saw you like you had hoped. There was no cliche run, no bone breaking hug, no fit of giggles as he peppered kisses into your neck.
There was no darling, no love, no pet name that came along with that sentence.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
It’s been a month since you had broken up with him. It’s been a month since he’s finished the movie. It’s been a month since he’s been back in England since he’s moved back to his loft to find all your belongings gone with a yellow sticky note with your handwriting on it. I moved out and I’m now living with (Y/B/F). If you find anything of mine text me.
God, what had he done. The one he loved so deeply, cared so much for, his one in a gazillion, his soulmate; he had pushed you away. He fought hard to push tears back as he crumpled up the note and threw it in the trash next to your relationship. He scrubbed the floors clean, washed everything to get rid of anything left of you. But when he was finished, his nose burning from chemical fumes, he could still smell the sweet perfume he had bought for you birthday last year lingering in the bathroom or on your side of the bed. He had been so frustrated that he threw out the mattress and had Harrison go shopping with him the next day to buy a new one.
Harrison hadn’t said anything about the breakup yet and Tom was glad for it. Although he could see the pity from his best friends eyes, so he would drag him out everywhere he went. It wasn’t even necessary for Tom to get over you, it was for Tom to stop thinking about it. Harrison knew Tom believed it was his fault, but he knew that the distance was a two sided road that ended usually in a sharp drop off.
So that where Tom was right now, sitting in a coffee shop staring blankly out the window while Harrison went on about some story he went through when he saw some old friends yesterday. He wasn’t listening, especially not when he saw the familiar blue cardigan walking across the street. His back went ramrod straight, his hand shaking so much that he almost dumped all his tea over his pants.
“What?” Harrison questioned at Tom’s tight appearance.
“She’s with someone else,” His voice croaked.
“What?!” Harrison basically yelled as he leaned across the table to see where Tom was staring.
And he was right. There you were, wearing one of his favourite outfits on you. Soft blue cardigan, charcoal grey blouse with a small ruffled neckline, dark jeans, and black boots. His heart hammered in his chest, threatening to break out at the sight of you, holding someone else’s hands.
He watched as you twisted to look up at the man, extremely tall, dark haired, stubble, leather jacket and twinkling smile. Tom set the tea on the table and excused himself to the bathroom. Harrison, once again, didn’t say anything. Tom stalked to the restrooms at the back, locking himself in the single stall and stared at himself in the mirror. His hands gripped the basin of the sink, knuckles turning white at the pressure. His teeth clenched as he dared another look into the mirror. But all he saw was you smiling at the other man. The other man that should be him.
You looked happy.
He wondered if that’s what you looked like when you saw him. If you were bursting with happiness that emitted a light so pure. The light, the laugh, the teasing pushes, he missed it. There was a knock on the door.
“Tom… You alright, mate?” It was Harrison.
“Yeah!” He said too quickly, blinking away the forming tears. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll be out in a sec’.”
You had the right to be happy. You had the right to be with someone new. He had hurt you, he had left you alone and never tried to fix what he broke. And he still loved you. He knew he always would. Who could forget you? You were brilliant, astonishing, breathtaking.
He could picture the first time he met you, how you were a nervous bundle of tears because you had gotten lost in the city and were scared of missing your first class. You were lucky he found you, lucky he ignored the tears and did not pity you for them. Simply, he held your books, walked a little too closely beside you and showed you to class. The whole twenty minutes of it was him talking, then occasionally you offered a sarcastic comment. Afterwards, you kissed him on the cheek, and he had never blushed so much in his life.
He wondered if the person you were with now felt the same. If he had butterflies in his stomach whenever you spoke, or if his heart rate jumped whenever you complimented him. Maybe he hugged her, maybe she kissed him. Maybe it was your first date since the breakup. And if it was, you looked happy to get over it. That’s what he should be doing. Getting over you. But how could he do that when you still were glued deeply into his heart. The puzzle piece that fit perfectly.
With a sniffle, Tom shook his head, his hair shaking out of its style slightly, he exited the restroom. He found Harrison outside, holding a scone in a white paper bag while he scrolled through Instagram on his phone. Tom cleared his throat to catch his attention. Harrison looked up, blinked slightly at Tom’s shaken features and engulfed him in a hug.
“Hey, it’ll happen to you too one day. Don’t you worry.”
What if Tom didn’t want it to happen. What if he wanted you back. He missed every inch of your skin, your over sugary tea, your grandmother’s secret pancake recipe. But most of all he just wanted to hold you in his arms, at least one last time. Maybe that would make him happy.
They walked towards Harrison’s flat, the gloomy grey sky matching Tom’s mood perfectly. He busied himself with looking at his shoes, the ones you loved oh so much. How you had to practically beg him to buy them. Now, look at him, how he walked comfortably in them. He remembered the other things you loved. Like the cat sitting on the windowsill on his left, or how the owners fed their pet too much that he was fat. They passed more and more and with every step Tom regretting coming to get tea with his best friend at all.
Everything he saw reminded himself of you. The little-checkered table cloth inside a cheap restaurant that you both found each other in after the first run into each other. Hours inside that bar, and a few later accompanied by drinks he found himself in bed with you. Weeks and weeks of dates and flowers, you didn’t have a favourite because you didn’t want to hurt the flowers feelings, chocolate especially. Tom went through the movies he wouldn’t be able to watch anymore, or at least for a while because that was your thing. More and more memories crashed down upon him as he walked beside Harrison, who was quietly munching on the scone that was supposed to be saved for breakfast tomorrow morning.
He regretted it. He regretted losing you. He would give anything, his career even, just to be with you again. But it would never happen. He fucked up.
And he hated you. Not for going out with someone new. No, he hated you for still being there, no matter where he went because he knew you would always be in his heart.
I knew one day you’d fall for someone new. But if he breaks your heart like lovers do, just know that I’ll be waiting here for you.
SUMMARY: You are Yoongi’s psychiatrist that helps him through his dark days, but what happens when your days become dark as well?
December 1, 2012
You laid in bed, with your eyes wide open, waiting for your alarm to go off. It was supposed to ring in only five more minutes, but you couldn’t wait that long, so you sprang out of bed and ran to the kitchen to get some coffee. Today was the first day of your career as a psychiatrist. You worked so hard to get to this day, and it had finally arrived. You got ready in less than twenty minutes, and rushed out of the door.
When you reached the building, you realized that the lights were still off and your car was the only one in the parking lot. You sighed, turned the volume of the radio in your car up, and anxiously tapped on your steering wheel, nervous for what the day might entail.
After what seemed like hours, you spotted your new boss’s car approaching the building. You hopped out of your car and waited at the door.
A/N: Smut. This is NSFW and is for 18+ readers only.
Synopsis - Bucky x reader. After a bad week away for work you come home to your fiancé Bucky.
You step through the door of the apartment you share with your fiancé Bucky. You let the door slam behind you carelessly, and you throw your keys into the bowl on the hallway table, letting them clatter noisily in protest.
Realistically you should be ecstatic to be home. You’ve been gone for a week on a business trip with your colleagues. A trip that you had been looking forward to for months, and waiting years to be chosen to attend. Countless late nights and extra work had been done to ensure you were finally noticed.
Unfortunately, you had ended up having a huge fight with Bucky about it because you were the only female invited. It had let to a lot of tears and begging on your part, but you eventually managed to convince him that people were finally seeing you for your talent and hard work and not just a pretty thing to look at. After all, he was your biggest supporter. He believed in everything you did. He finally calmed his over protectiveness down and you’d shown him how devoted you were to him pretty much all night long.
“Hey baby.” Bucky tried to welcome you from his usual spot on the couch, across the other side of the room. You meet his eye and admire the way the skin crinkles in the corner when he smiles. You want nothing more than to cuddle into him and breathe in the familiar scent of him but you’re just so pissed off about everything with work that your body betrays the love you have for the man and instead of going to greet him you angrily storm past him, high heels noisily clanking on the floor all the way to your shared bedroom down the hall. You only give pause briefly to him a quick hello and nod of your head on the way past.
Your alarm went off, your body immediately springing into action as you remembered what you really wanted to do today. You were going to try and cook breakfast for Diana.
Okay you’ll admit, you might be a shit cook but it’s the least you can do for your girlfriend who is also a god damn superhero!
You always felt bad that you really couldn’t do anything but sit and cheer her on and she always tried to tell you that you were just perfect the way you are. Although that made you feel good, you still felt guilty.
You took your phone out and looked up on YouTube “how to scramble eggs” and got started. You were so focused that you didn’t even here Diana slowly get from the bed, with her bed hair and slouched position in all, and her bare feet pat on the hardwood floor to you.
She watched your body move vigorously as you tried and hurried, thinking she was still in bed. The amazonian couldn’t help but giggle at your hard work and you jumped almost 5 feet in the air.
“Diana! I didn’t know you were awake!” You exclaimed, plastering on a big smile as you tried to hide the food. She just laughed and stood there, waiting for you to continue.
You quirked an eyebrow but followed the silent orders of your wife and twisted your body back to the pan. Once you turned you felt a warm body press up against you and a mouth pushed to your pulse point. You giggled at the sensation and squirmed a little.
“Dianaaaaa, I’m trying to cook for you,” you groan, though leaning into her little neck kisses. You felt her shoulders shrug and whisper, “continue, my love, I want to watch.”
So she let you continue, having her arms wrapped around her waist and keeping you warm as you finished the scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. Diana took a piece of bacon and you gasped jokingly.
“Rude!” She laughed, taking herself to the dinner table. You just noticed now she was in one of your baggy work blouses and grey underwear and you had to admit, you were one of the luckiest woman ever.
“Do you want one or two pieces?” You ask the Amazon and she taps her chin.
“Hmm, two would be wonderful.”
You grab the hot plates and hurried to the table, trying not to burn yourself while Diana simply watches you struggle.
“You are so kind, my wife. You really didn’t have to do this.”
“Well when my kick ass partner saves the world and your own ass sometimes, the least you could do is return the favor.”
“you already do that by being my beautiful, strong wife,” she replied, quietly this time. You felt your heart warm as you start eating and talking to each other. A start of a beautiful Saturday.
A/N: I’m back!! This is some fluffy domestic shit and I’m 150% here for it so sorry I was gone for like two days! School and social life have been stressful!
by: mldrgrl rated: R (language) summary: Hank meets Stella’s mother
Hank could tell there was something on Stella’s mind from the moment she got home. She put her things down and shook off her coat at the door. He had the pages of a new manuscript in his lap, a red pen in one hand, and a drink on his knee. She came over to the couch and sat beside him, tucking her legs up under her before she reached for his glass and took a sip.
“What’s on your mind, Sherlock?” he asked.
She took another sip of his whiskey and then sucked the aftertaste off her teeth. “Are you free tomorrow afternoon?” she asked.
“I could be.”
“If you’re not, you don’t have to change plans.”
“It wouldn’t be changing plans, per se. What’s up?”
“I’ve been summoned to tea at Harrod’s. I’d like you to come with me.”
Hank flipped the pages of his manuscript into order and then leaned over to place the stack of paper on the table. He dropped his red pen there as well and then lay back against the couch, inclined towards Stella. He put his hand on her knee and gave it a squeeze.
“Do I ring Jeeves and have him lay out my top hat and tails?”
“You can wear what you’d like.”
“Who are we having tea with?”
Stella downed the rest of Hank’s whiskey and tipped her head back as she swallowed. “My mother.”
Help me I just want some punk! Percy taking care of a sick preppy annabeth and some fluff please help im in desperate need
have some fluff for your needs
Annabeth is not one to complain. She’d rather suffer in
silence to her death than let someone think she can’t cope. She will walk in
the line of fire with a head cold and will drag herself up the side of a
mountain with a broken ankle. Annabeth Chase is hard core, and stubborn, and refuses
to give up.
All of which are equally admirable and frustrating qualities
to someone who cares about her.
There’s a pep rally bonfire next week for which she has to
organise balloons and banners and a damn bonfire to burn to rally a bunch of
“You’re gonna kill yourself over this,” Percy complains for
what has to be the hundredth time.
Annabeth shuts her locker with a slam and glares at him. “I’m
fine,” she protests, most unconvincingly, he might add, with a blocked nose and
sore throat rasping her voice.
“You look like death,” he tells her as they start walking
down the hall.
Which was a lie, because Annabeth rarely looks far from
perfect. Even with a puffy red nose and chapped lips, she still looks like the
model student. Her hair falls in pretty gold ringlets down her back, her jeans,
purple blouse, and grey blazer are un-creased even after a whole day at school.
She does a great job of making Percy look even scruffier, which is completely
unnecessary as Percy can do that well enough on his own.
“Thanks so much,” she mutters.
“Here.” Percy holds out his hands to take her bag and books
and she hands them over without protest. “Seriously, Annabeth. Someone else can
take over for one freaking pep rally, you don’t have to do everything alone.”
He holds the door open for her and she walks outside. In January,
their school campus is tipped with frost, the only trees still with leaves on are the tall snow covered pines. Percy’s bomber jacket keeps most of the cold
out but Annabeth shiveres against it, he adjusts her books under his arm and wraps the other one around her shoulders.
“See, this is why you got ill in the first place,” he says.
Annabeth elbows him. “You’re
why I got sick! You infected me!”
Please tell me we didn’t have sex last night (1/4)
Summary: Waking up with the worst hangover ever Abby, a second-year medical student, has absolutely no recollection of getting home from last night’s party. So imagine her surprise when she wakes up naked in her bed with nobody other than Marcus, third-year law student and general pain in her ass, Kane. Just what the hell happened last night??!
Inspired by the following prompt: How about Kabby at university and they end up together in bed after a party? Bonus if they aren’t really friends but have a lot of unresolved sexual tension :D
Abby wakes up to a pounding head and her mouth feeling as dry as a desert. Groaning, she tries to open her eyes, but the light that’s pouring into the room quickly makes her clench them shut again.
I’m never drinking again
Not only is she experiencing what has the potential to grow into a massive hangover, her pillow also seems to be breathing? Realising that she’s not alone in her bed and that yes, she is naked and so is the body she’s lying on top of, Abby feels a panic attack coming up. Her body tenses as she tries to wrack her brain on how the hell she not only ended up naked with another person in her bed but most importantly with whom.
The last thing she remembers from last night’s party is playing several games of beer pong with Callie before ending up on a couch drinking, she thinks whisky, with, oh no, Marcus stuck-up Kane. Abby’s almost scared to lift her head, but she rationalises, even in her drunken state she wouldn’t have sunk so low as to sleep with Kane. Right?!
Can I ask for a scenario/drabble where Prompto falls in love with Noctis' female retainer, who has joined the on the trip?
OHHHHH Prompto!That little romantic. I went through 3 prompts before finally settling on this one, I think it’s the better of the three.
Prompto rose his camera to take a picture of the sleeping Prince in the backseat of the car, a little payback from the other taking those rather embarrassing pictures of him at the last rest stop. Only for his camera lens to turned to you instead, sitting between Gladiolus and Noctis, you didn’t appear at all uncomfortable.
If anything you seemed relaxed, your head resting against the headrest as you closed your eyes. Not asleep, but simply enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face.
You had joined the trip as Noctis’s retainer, unlike Ignis, you were there more a bodyguard for everyone, but also to ensure that no one killed themselves, as none of them had any medical training aside from the absolute basics that everyone was required in the Kingsglavie.
Prompto remembered the first time that he saw you, right as they were leaving for the trip, and Noctis mentioned that you were a late join. Prompto thought that they would be joined by an older woman, with gray hair, a large mole on her cheek, librarian glasses, and an outfit that had been out of date for decades.
Annabeth had been so excited when she’d first entered Bianca’s, a quaint little Italian restaurant near her house. It was her first date in a while. Lately, she’d been doing a lot of extra credit work. It was worth it, but it had cost her sleep and left little time just for her. Then, Matt, a new kid had asked her out. He had floppy brown hair and olive skin. His cheeks were dotted with freckles. He’d moved to New York a few weeks ago and she didn’t really know much about him. So, left without a single reason to say no, she had said yes. Annabeth remembered how Matt had asked if she knew any good places near by. And so she’d recommended Bianca’s. Annabeth had a friend who owned the place and she knew that the service was great, despite not actually having been there many times. Annabeth had given well-researched directions to from bianca’s to Matt. She texted it to him several times as well to appease her anxiety.
Then the night came. She’d picked out a silvery grey blouse that shined like moonlight. It was her favorite, one of the few gifts she’d gotten from her distant mother, Athena. A strange one, too, considering the rest were mostly books and a few other hard-to-find antiques. But it had brought her nothing but good luck since her mother had given it to her. Annabeth wasn’t exactly a big fan of superstition, but it couldn’t exactly hurt, could it? Under it, she chose to wear a purple pleated skirt along with dark grey tights and a pair of indigo flats. She wore the same owl stud earrings she always did and skipped makeup entirely. She could sketch the Eiffel Tower easily from memory but she was hopeless with makeup. Oh, how the Fates must hate me, Annabeth would sometimes think to herself sarcastically.
She ignored her stepmother in the kitchen playing with her two half brothers, they’d had a fight recently and things were a bit tense between them. Instead, she went straight to her father. After saying goodbye, she’d Uber’d to Bianca’s and arrived at 7 on the dot, exactly when they planned to meet, though Matt didn’t seem to have arrived yet. After being led to her reservation by the maitre d’, she set her bag down and looked out the window, maybe Matt was close.
After maybe 5 minutes, she’d given up on looking. The waitress, a short girl maybe a few years older than Annabeth, had come by once already, asking from behind her dark locks of hair if Annabeth was ready, but he wasn’t here yet so she had asked for a few more minutes. Matt was late, but surely he’d be there any second, right?
To pass the time while she waited for Matt, Annabeth decided to look over the restaurant more thoroughly. She hadn’t been there in several months and they’d obviously done a bit of renovation since the last time Annabeth had been there. Some things were the same. The wallpaper, for example, hadn’t changed at all. In fact, it looked as pristine as the day she had first seen it, several years ago. The tables, on the other hand, were decidedly new. Before, they’d been small tables with square linoleum surfaces. Now though, the tables were some kind of antique wood with white linen tablecloth on top that added to the restaurant’s charm. Overall the space felt much more spread out, too.
A voice interrupted her thoughts and Annabeth looked up to see the waitress with dark hair at her table once more.
“Are you ready to order yet?” She asked patiently.
Annabeth winced. This was the fourth time she had asked and Annabeth was no more ready than she had been 20 minutes ago. “Oh, um, could I just have a few more minutes, please?” Annabeth asked.
The waitress sent her a pitying glance but nodded politely before turning away and walking off to serve another customer. Annabeth’s heart plunged. It seemed everyone in the restaurant was aware that her date had stood her up. The apologetic glances only served to make her feel worse and even Annabeth was beginning to doubt that Matt was ever going to arrive.
Annabeth glanced up at the small clock on the wall. 7:28, it read. Matt was nearly 30 minutes late, or at least he would be if he had even planned to show up at all. Annabeth felt like crying. Five more minutes, she decided. Five minutes, and if Matt still hadn’t shown up after the five minutes were up, then… then- then she’d leave, her silver blouse having brought her nothing but bad luck for once.
Annabeth waited then. The pitying stares had only gotten worse. Every few minutes she would hear a “poor girl” or something similar echoing around the restaurant. She wanted nothing more than stand up and say that she didn’t want their pity. But she couldn’t do that, no, the last thing she wanted was to cause an even bigger scene than the one already unfolding at the moment.
Annabeth counted down the seconds in her head, trying not to let the tears that had already begun to well up in her eyes fall. 30 seconds left. 20. Ten.
Then, just as she was nearing 0. Someone new entered the restaurant. Annabeth wouldn’t have paid attention to such a thing, but he was heading towards her. He looked 17, her age, with inky black hair and sea green eyes. He wore Khakis and a sweatshirt with the words “Goode Swim Team 2016” on it, as if he’d tried to look nice but had given up halfway through. He strode towards her table with confidence. She had never seen him before in her life, but that didn’t stop him from striding over to her and sitting down at her table opposite of her.
Loudly, he said, “Sorry I’m so late, babe, traffic is crazy right now.” He smiled earnestly at her but her only response was confusion. But the stares had backed off. No longer did she feel like she was choking under their gazes. She felt a million times better. Though, she couldn’t help but stare at the boy in front of her, a question in her eyes.
“I’m Percy,” he whispered to her, “just go with it, okay? Whoever didn’t bother to show up is a dick.”
Annabeth could hear her heart beating in her chest. This stranger had covered for her, prevented the embarrassment that no doubt would have occurred at this very moment had he not shown up, had she been forced to leave, tears threatening to fall because Matt had stood her up. But that hadn’t happened, and she would be forever grateful. Of course she would “go with it” because he was being sweet and trying to save her.
At that moment, though, before Annabeth even had the chance to introduce herself, their waitress returned, smiling brightly. “Ready to order?”
“Oh, I think so,” Percy said, but he hadn’t touched the menu in front of him. “I’ll have one Chicken Alfredo, you have that, right?” She nodded. “Oh, and a cherry coke please.” The waitress wrote it down and then turned her head to Annabeth.
“And you?” She asked.
“I’ll have water, and the Spaghetti Marinara, no meatballs, please,” Annabeth said easily, she had studied the menu several times over while waiting for her douche of a date, Matt. She could probably recite it from memory by now.
“Alright,” the waitress said, “should be ready soon.”
As soon as she was out of hearing range, Annabeth introduced herself. “I’m Annabeth, thanks for the save.” She smiled gratefully.
“Hey, no problem,” Percy responded, “My apartment is right across the street and I noticed you sitting here. I had to do something.“
“Well,” Annabeth said, “aren’t you a hero.”
Percy rubbed the back of his head, “I guess, my best friend Grover says that I have a saving-people thing.”
Annabeth tried to stifle her laughs. “Like Harry Potter?”
Percy grinned. “Exactly like Harry Potter.”
“So,” Annabeth said,“ tell me about yourself. Let’s make this a fake date to remember. You’re in high school right? You look my age, at least.”
Percy raised his eyebrows teasingly. “Yeah? Okay, well, my name is Percy,” his cheeks reddened, “um, as you already know. And yeah, I’m in highschool, I’m a Junior. You?”
“Oh, I’m a Junior, too.” Annabeth didn’t really know what to say next, though. The silence continued on for a few more seconds and only seemed to get more awkward. Trying to break through the ice, she asked, “You come here often? Since you live so close.”
“Not really, but my friend Nico hangs out here often so sometimes I peek in to see if he’s here. His sister owns the place.”
“Oh, really? I guess I’m friends with his sister, then. Bianca, right? We met a couple of years ago.” Annabeth said.
“Really? Cool, well look how much we already have in common, then.” Percy grinned, flashing pearly white teeth at her.
“Yeah,” Annabeth agreed, “guess so. How long have you lived in New York?”
“My entire life, though, I still seem to get lost every so often.”
“Huh, well that’s another thing we have in common then. Getting lost, I mean. I used to live in San Francisco, but I moved here in 9th grade. Even with getting lost, though, you must know a whole bunch of shortcuts, wanna regale me with them?”
Percy smiled, he seemed to be quite talented at that, “I’d love to, but first, I think our food’s here.”
Annabeth turned, and sure enough, Percy was right. Their food was here. Percy’s Chicken Alfredo looked delicious while Annabeth’s Spaghetti Marinara seemed to glow in the soft lighting of the restaurant. As they ate their food, they continued to make small talk. Laughing every so often and smiling at what they had in common and what they didn’t. Eventually though, the clock ticked nine o'clock and Annabeth knew that she had to go home soon, her father had asked her to be home before 9:30 so she wanted leave in the next few minutes.
“I had a wonderful time, Percy, but I should really be leaving soon.” Annabeth said.
“Me too,” Percy agreed. “If I stay out too late, no doubt my mom will think I’ve gotten into trouble. She’s really paranoid about that sort of stuff. But, um, Annabeth?” He sounded unsure.
“I had a great night with you, and I was kind of wondering if maybe you’d like to go on another date? Like, with me?”
Annabeth grinned. “I’d love to.”
Percy, who had been fumbling with his hoodie’s drawstring, lit up like a Christmas tree. “Great! How about, um here, I guess? Next Friday!” Percy pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket as if he had been waiting for this moment. He pressed the paper into the palm of her hand. “My phone number,” he explained. Then he backed a few feet away from her, said goodbye, and crossed the street to his apartment.
Annabeth smiled as she watched him go. Maybe, despite the disaster that was Matt not showing up, her silver blouse was lucky after all. It had brought Percy into her life, hadn’t it? She couldn’t wait for next Friday.
A/N: Here is part four of my entry for @marvelous-fvcks‘ challenge. I had a lot of fun with this one!
Waking up to a hand smacking his face was not Steve’s idea of a
good morning. He jerked awake, fumbling for the light, his cheek stinging. He
looked at Y/N who, to his dismay, was still deeply asleep. She had left her
side of the bed and seemed to be in the process of taking over Steve’s side as