lifted up in flight

anonymous asked:

Need a nurseydex prompt? How about the boys wrestle and the situation escalates quickly (romantically)

“Nurse, would you knock it the actual fuck off.”

They had spent the entire morning lifting box after suitcase after backpack up two flights of stairs to the attic and he could barely feel his shoulders, arms and thighs burning. Of course Nursey had shed his shirt on the second trip up, and after the last box was deposited he dropped to the middle of the floor, lying spread eagle as sweat dripped down his chiseled body and holy SHIT Dex has to catch his breath. Yet as Dex continued to unpack his things, Nursey was attempting to grab his ankles and tickle the bottoms of his feet. He was turning to grab a box of flannels when Nursey yanked him by the ankle towards the middle of the room, sending flannels flying and landing Dex half on top of a barely dressed, sweaty Nursey. He struggles to stand but Nursey pulls him to his chest then flips them, running his fingers up Dex’s sides. Dex can’t breathe as Nursey straddles him, pins his arms above his head with one hand and uses the other to tickle the strip of skin between his pants and his rucked up shirt. He squirms and laughs unabashedly and uncontrollably as Nursey’s hand works its way up under his shirt but he slowly realizes that Nursey is sitting in his lap and caressing his stomach, half naked and glistening and incredibly warm. So Dex uses every ounce of strength in his body to flip them, landing between Nursey’s legs with one arm pinned above Nursey’s head and the other trapped between their bodies, unbelievably close to his crotch. Both are panting hard into the small space between them and Dex can feel his shirt sticking to his skin. Nursey pulls his arm free but it’s immediately captured by Dex and stretched up next to the other.

“See? How do you like it, punk?” Dex growls as Nursey wraps his legs around Dex’s waist and struggles to try and flip them, pushing all of his body weight against Nursey and pinning his hips to the ground.

“A lot, actually.” Nursey has fallen completely still and lax, with his legs wrapped around Dex’s hips and his arms pinned above his head and their mouths inches from each other. “I really, really love it.” And then Dex really can’t control himself because Nursey’s cheeks are flushed a warm pink and his naked torso is pressed against Dex and before he really processes what he’s doing he’s pressing their lips together and Nursey is moaning very loudly into the quiet room. Nursey’s lips are incredibly soft and gentle, yet he immediately tries to entice Dex’s lips open with his tongue and Dex ends up laughing against his mouth at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“I feel like we’re in a cheesy porno.” Nursey chuckles but also tries to act offended.

“I was trying to be romantic!” Nursey teased.

“Derek Nurse, the hopeless romantic, thought tackling me to the ground would be romantic.” But then Nursey’s face looks a lot more serious and vulnerable and he’s leaning in to brush a soft kiss against Dex’s lips before whispering, “I want you so badly, Will. Not just this, I want everything with you because,” He gasps quickly and closes his eyes, obviously gathering some courage, “I’ve been in love with you since freshman year and all I want is you.”

Dex’s body feels incredibly alive and completely numb at the same time but he can definitely feel his head nodding and his hands moving to cup Nursey’s face and his lips moving to kiss Nursey again and again and again.

Love Divided Ch. 2 (Peter Parker x reader)

Hello lovelies! I hope you’re having a good day, I’m trying to sort my life out so that I’m not flat out broke once the expo comes along, so wish me luck! Anyways, here’s the next chapter of “Love Divided” and I hope you enjoy. xoxo

Description:The brewing conflict between Tony and Steve are finally surfacing, causing everyone to choose a side. The heat within the team is rising, and everyone is beginning to realize what is to come. What happens when your relationship with Peter is divided? Will you choose your love? Or your morals?

Warnings: Cursing

Chapter 1


Hot tears silently streaked down your cheeks as you turned away from his room, letting your hand fall to your side. Could you ever forgive yourself? But, maybe the two of you would be together again when things got better. Well, you could only hope so. 

You walked down the hall back to your room to change. In your luggage was a black hat, some sunglasses, and a maroon hoodie. You swapped your outfit out for a more civilian one and slipped out the hotel, keeping your head down to avoid the security guards around your car that knew your face too well. The building where the conference was being held wasn’t too far away, so you decided to avoid as much conversation as possible, you would just walk. 

As you rounded the corner, the tall government building was in full view. There were journalists gathered at the entrance, trying to catch anybody for any information on the conference before they went inside. The road was blocked; the news vans were cluttering both sides of the streets with cameras set up everywhere. You slipped under the caution tape to weave your way through, making sure to keep yourself from being noticed. On the other side on the blocked off street section was a small cafe, and you decided that was where you would observe the signing from. 

Following you from above was Redwing who was going to give you full visual and audio of the conference by hovering just outside the window. You pulled back the sleeve of your jacket, revealing a watch that gave you a live feed of what the drone was seeing. And frankly, the first person you saw was Peter. 

“Mr. Stark, where’s F/N? Did she say she was coming? She did come on the trip with us..” Peter was beginning to ramble as he paced back in forth, wringing his hands together. 

“I’m sure she’s fine, Peter.” Tony wasn’t going to lie to him, nor was he going to tell him the truth. It pained him to see you both being put in this situation, and he partly blamed himself for it. Nevertheless, he was to keep his promise to you and not say a thing about you not coming. “You should stop pacing. People are beginning to stare.” He shifted his eyes around the room, trying to take the topic off of you. 

“Oh, sorry. When does this thing start?” Once he stopped, he in turn began tapping his foot frantically. He pushed back the sleeve of his suit to check the time. Just as Peter was about to ramble, Nat joined the conversation. 

“Peter, what are you so jittery about?” She raised her eyebrow at him, her arms crossed over her chest. In her heart, she knew why, but she also promised you to keep her mouth shut. 

“I’m getting worried about, F/N. If she doesn’t come then…” He took a moment, realizing what was going to happen. He thought back to what he said to you all those weeks ago. “Then we’re through…” His eyes became wide with fear, and he forced his tears back. 

Tony and Nat both looked grim, they didn’t want you two to fall out, but each of them knew the circumstances around the situation, and knew that you were making the best choice for yourself, even if it meant going against them. Even if it meant going against Peter. Before anybody could say anything else, the King of Wakanda took to the podium. All of them took their seats in the middle of the front row. And still, Peter was constantly turning his head to scan the room for you. 

“Thank you all for coming…” 

You watched Peter’s every move. It felt like someone was slowly ripping your heart out as you watched him pace in front of Tony, watching as your name inaudibly fell from his lips. By the pained looks on Nat and Tony’s faces, you knew it was about you. Your tears began to slowly blur your vision underneath your sunglasses. You took them off, wiping away your tears. People began glancing over at you, taking a double take as they passed. 

“Shit.” You quickly regained your composure and fitted the glasses back onto your face. The waiter brought over a cup of coffee and you mindlessly prepared it to your liking, watching the conference intently with your earbuds in. 

“Thank you all for coming, and thank you especially to some of the Avengers for attending. It’s truly a shame that not all of you attended.” The King of Wakanda shifted his eyes to the empty seat next to your sweetheart, and Peter diverted his eyes to the floor. “The Accords are a peacekeeping method to ensure that both the governments of the world and the Avengers can work in harmon-” 

Your watch went black when you heard a resounding boom from across the street. You stood up from your table, gaping at the explosion. Someone had bombed the conference. 

“Fuck.” You covered your mouth with your hand, making your way towards the building. It suddenly hit you. “Peter!” You screamed, making a run for the building entrance. You slipped past all the journalists, but just as you were about to grab the door handle, a guard stopped you. 

“Excuse me ma’am, but you can’t go in there! It’s not safe!” He pushed you back away from the building. You threw off your hat and glasses, revealing your identity. 

“Get out of my way.” You glared at him, and he stepped aside, ashamed that he did not recognize you. Your feet pounded up the stairs, jogging up to the 34th floor. You choked on air as you flung yourself from flight to flight. Some cabinet members were stumbling past you, covered in dust and blood. 

“Peter! Nat! Tony!” You reached the room that was blown in half. You scanned the room for their bodies. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You took fistfuls of your hair, your eyes wide with fear. 

“F/N…” Tony was leaning against the back wall, blood trickling down the side of his face. You rushed over to him, throwing his arm over your shoulder. “No, no.. don’t worry about me. I can get myself down.” His breaths were extremely labored, each one a struggle with all the dust in the air. “Get Peter.. he needs you more.” You nodded, helping him the rest of the way up, trying to find where Peter’s seat would have been. 

“Peter!” Your voice echoed through the hollow room, the sounds of sirens getting closer. You got no reply. “Holy fuck…” On the floor just at the edge of the crumbling building was Peter. His body was limp and bent in an unnatural position. It seemed like the world suddenly was moving in slow motion as you ran down to him, pulling his body away from the edge. “Peter, oh God.” Hot tears began to sting your eyes. “Please, no.” You cradled his head against your chest, sobbing. His face was cut up and bleeding, a spot of red soaking through his suit. “Don’t die on me. You can’t do this.” You threw your head back to the sky, screaming. 

“Mmm…” Peter groaned, just loud enough for you to hear. He was still alive. He was breathing. Peter was still mostly unconscious, but he was still here. You lifted him up and tossed him across your shoulders, making the 34 flight trek back down to the ambulances. 

“Come on, Peter. Hang in there.” You seethed through your teeth, your muscles beginning to burn. Paramedics were making their way up the stairs and when they saw you carrying someone, they quickly rolled a gurney to the bottom of the stairs for you to put him on. They hooked him up to tons of machines and fluids as they placed him in the ambulance. 

“Ma’am, are you coming?” The paramedic was leaning out the door, raising his eyebrows at you. You debated whether that was a good idea or not, knowing that when he woke up, that he wouldn’t be too happy. But you nodded anyways and got into the ambulance. As the building became a small tower stack in the distance, you turned your attention to Peter, taking his hand. You brought it up to your lips, gently pressing a kiss against it. 

The paramedics were putting pressure on his wounds, trying to stop the bleeding. There was something wet on your shoulder and you realized that it was his blood. His hands started becoming colder, and his heart rate began to drop. 

“No, no, no, no.” The tears were blurring your vision again. “Don’t do this. Please, please, please don’t leave me.” You sobbed, covering your mouth with your hands. 

Just when you thought things might have been alright, they took a turn for the worst. The paramedic’s next words seemed to stop your heart just the same. 

“He’s flat lining…”

I hope you enjoyed it! I’m going to write and post the next chapter of “Run Away Baby” when I get home, so get ready! I love you all, you’re amazing. Have a wonderful rest of your day xoxo



@purplekitten30 @only-little-glances @spiderlingy @ok-ladies-lets-get-in-formation @barely-emily @ekinsyikin @queenvulca @unwantedcrustofpizza @gracemeister64 @dont-rain-on-my-fandom @red-bandana-girl @sorryimnxbxdy @glitterarmour234 @marcilinemadness2020 @buckaroo–barnes @itsemmyb @ravenclawnerdfromnarnia @halebhalebhaleb @courtneychicken @the-fandom-took-over-my-life @cakeisforchumps @gothicbubblegumrock @whenyouwannafindlove @afangirlssoul @broken-pieces @mcfuccfairy @fandomlover2001 @elegantnightmareshiro @buckysplumfondler @arabellaaurorabarnes @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes @badassbaker @life-is-fuucked @elwenia @justmasblack @addictionmarvel @iamwarrenspeace 

Chapter 2 - Room For Two

It’s easy to think life will stay the same when day after day the same occurs without much change. When Rey gets a call from Poe he sound’s out of breath and fear grips her heart with some instinct she never knew she had.

“Rey,” he exhales and in the background she can hear a mess of people speaking. “There’s been an accident.”

It’s hard not to just run across the city to the hospital but somehow in the haze of terror that grips her Rey finds someone to bring her instead. Ben’s uncle Luke is a strange person, someone she hasn’t talked to much before but his eyes are kind and he doesn’t break every speed law getting them there. Poe is kind loving friend who sends her the room number so she doesn’t have to scream at a nurse for it. Her legs carry her up flight after flight of stairs because the lift was moving too slow. Looking wildly at the signs, Rey finds the right direction and races towards the sound of shouting. Sliding practically into the open door frame, she fights to breath as she watches a family scream at one another.

“This is your fault,” snaps a woman who’s short in stature but huge in personality.

The older man in the room, Ben’s father, leans down and jab a finger out in the direction of Leia. “ How is this my fault? I wasn’t even here! ”

“ Exactly! ” snaps Leia.

“I would love it if you two would stop yelling ,” shouted Ben as he held a hand to a bandage covering part of his face.

Chapter 2 is up to read!

Before The King [Part 1 / ?]

Post-Civil War Series

Pairing: T’Challa x Ex-Avenger!Reader

Request(s): @voynasoldat : oh gosh I definitely need another T'Challa fic I’m sweating over here! Maybe one where Tony hosts a fancy party and T'Challa gets all blushy bc of the reader wearing a very nice dress and stuff and later he sees a guy trying to flirt with her but reader looks uncomfortable so T walks up and just kisses the reader.

@kissofvenom922 : I was thinking that the reader is an avenger and when T'challa comes to visit reader make cat jokes with Sam

Characters: Reader, T’Challa, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Scott Lang, Clint Barton, Okoye (Comic Character), Mentions of Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, and Tony Stark.

Warnings: CIVIL WAR SPOILERS, Suggestive Language, and Use of Alcohol.

Word Count: 5k+

A/N: If you haven’t seen Civil War then I HIGHLY advise to NOT read this until you have! I’m officially transitioning and I loved writing this. I got to grasp T’Challa’s personality kinda as a whole. x. T

Your name: submit What is this?

The Raft  |  1 Week After Airport Battle 

           You had been listening to Scott hum the same song for two days straight, his fingers beating against the metal stool they had supplied in the cells you all were locked up in. Your back was pressed against your cells’ wall, your arm propped on the cot just to your left with your fingers wrapped tightly around locks of your hair, often tightening when Scott went from humming to singing the lyrics.

           “..went the distance now I’m back on my feet just a man and his will to survive!” Scott sang, his voice cracking at certain parts as he got into the song.

           You groaned and let your head fall back against the wall before you raised your voice, “Sam, just tell him to shut up already!”

           “Hey! It’s been a week since we’ve been locked in this joint and be thankful I don’t have the damn Spice Girls stuck in my head!” Scott stopped beating on the stool and hollered back to you. You pulled a face and knew he was right.

           Clint spoke up from his cell you weren’t able to see, “The ant dude has a point, Y/N.”

           “Why the hell does no one bother to use my name?” Scott complained loudly.

           “Can you all just shut the hell up?! I think someone’s about to come in,” Sam voiced with annoyance, instantly causing you all to quiet and attempt to look through the tint on the front of your cells towards the entrance. The sound of the heavy duty doors opening echoed through the silence and you strained your eyes to catch a glimpse of who it was.

           “I promised I’d get you guys out of here, didn’t I?”

           At the sound of Steve’s voice you scrambled to your feet and pressed your hands against the large tinted window, narrowing your eyes to—sure enough—see Steve’s figure standing in front of Sam’s cell. He had his hands shoved into a navy jacket, his khaki pants scuffed and spotted with what looked to be blood, but you immediately wondered where Bucky was.

           “Where’s Barnes?” Clint asked what you were thinking.

           Steve turned his head to look at the archer’s cell after putting in the passcode to free Sam. You couldn’t quite see the look he had, but you took his silence as Bucky not going to show face anytime soon. The soldier had grown on you within the short span of time you had gotten to know him and it was slightly heartbreaking that Steve lost his best friend once more.

           While Steve was working on the passcode for Clint’s cell, Sam crossed over to where you were holed-up and easily entered the code into the keypad off to the side. He obviously paid attention when the guards had released you to go on a bathroom break so it was relieving to have the vibranium bars in front of the glass window slide up and then the tinted glass to recede down into the floor.

           Sam’s face was still marked with the nasty bruises he had received from the showdown at the airport and you knew you didn’t look much better than he did. Sam’s lips curled into a smile and he raised his brows. “Ready to get out of this damn place?”

           “I’ve been ready since we stepped foot here,” You said. Sam chuckled lowly and turned to see Steve approaching with Wanda in tow. She looked visibly relieved now that she was out of the strait jacket and you were happy to see your team finally hopeful again.

           Steve met your gaze as he stopped beside Sam and you smiled at the soldier. “It’s good to see you again, Steve.”

           “It’s good to see you too, Y/N.” Steve nodded.

           “I hate to interrupt the powwow, but do you happen to know where our gear is?” Scott peered from behind Clint as they came over, his eyes flickering over the group in hopes that someone would be able to answer him directly for once.

           Steve turned to face Scott. “All of our gear is government property so if we use it, they’re going to force us to sign the Accords. It’s up to you all if you want to return to headquarters and have Tony help vouch for you. I won’t think any less of you all. You already have done enough for both Bucky and I.”

           “And what are you going to do, Captain?” Wanda questioned.

           He blew a steady breath out of his nose before meeting her eye. “I’m going back to Wakanda to lay low there for as long as I need to. T’Challa offered to shelter us and he already has Bucky hidden in a lab so if you want to come with me you can.” Steve let the offer sink into all of you before you, Sam, and Wanda accepted it.

           Scott had enough trouble with the law and Clint was officially retiring for good, no matter what trouble the Team got themselves into in the future. So as Steve explained to them where to find their gear and where one of Tony’s helicopters was stashed, you and Sam both left the cellblock to pick up a few weapons off the guards while Wanda stayed behind to bade her goodbye to Clint.

           By the time Steve led you all onto the Quinjet, Scott and Clint had long since left. You were all pelted with ocean spray and the harsh wind of the sea as you hiked up the ramp and into the aircraft, finally able to let down your guard at the promise of safety. Steve pushed up the lever to raise the hatch behind the three of you and your eyes immediately went to the pilot seat.

           Steve ordered, “We’re clear, Your Highness. Set the route to Wakanda and then I’ll take over.”

           T’Challa spoke up from the control console and you saw his arm lift up to flick on a few switches in order to take flight. “Copy that, Captain.” His smoothly accented voice rang throughout the aircraft and you forgot just how attractive it was the first time you met him, even if he was trying to get to Bucky.

           Sam tapped your shoulder to draw your attention and you turned to see him strapped into a chair, already buckled in for the rough flight over the stormy ocean. You smiled sheepishly before settling into the chair next to him, sliding your arms through the straps and forcing the clamps together to keep you secure.

           Steve paused as he passed and asked, “Are you good, Y/N?”

           You nodded and he continued to the cockpit, taking over for T’Challa. The King of Wakanda picked up his helmet from where it rest by the seat and gracefully moved over to the chair across from you. You saw he was wearing his Black Panther suit as he sat down to secure himself and he must’ve sensed you watching because his dark eyes flickered up to lock with yours, causing your breath to hitch slightly. T’Challa bowed his head to you and his lips curled into a soft smile.

           “I hope this may make up for my actions in the past,” He said, “I was consumed in vengeance and now I know where my fault lies. I apologize for any harm I caused.”

           You recognized how sincere his words were and you smiled at the King.

           “Apology accepted, Your Highness.”

.  .   .

Wakanda  |  6 Weeks Later

           It had been six weeks since you first landed in Wakanda and you could easily say you had been pampered by the King. He insisted that you would have your own villa to stay in while in his country and it was only a few miles from his palace, hidden in the surrounding jungle with a wonderful view of a gorgeous lake.

           Wanda stayed in the villa with you and you both became even closer than you were before. With Sam and Steve off trying to recover HYDRA files, it left you and Wanda to adapt to the new way of life of hiding within the foreign African country. It was normal to have T’Challa or one of his personal guards—the Dora Milaje—stop by and check in, often leaving gifts that were mainly to you but Wanda also received some too.

           You were laying in a hammock strung up between two columns supporting the upper level of the villa, softly swaying side to side as you let the early morning sunlight warm your skin. The jungle was awakening all around you and the air was filled with exotic bird calls that had become so normal to you that you just tuned out the noise.

           The sliding door to the balcony opened and Wanda leaned against the entryway, crossing her arms over her chest. “T’Challa is here. He wants to talk to you.”

           You peeled an eye open to see her wearing a deep purple nightgown, her skin bronzed from being in the African sun, and she held a grumpy expression. You sighed and sat up carefully, lightly hopping out of the hammock to step past her into the beautifully decorated living room of the villa. Your bare feet padded quietly over the glossed wooden floorboards as you moved towards the foyer, picking up a light colored cardigan as you passed the couch. You tugged the cardigan around you and made sure to cover up as much as possible, seeing as you only were wearing a tank top and pair of black underwear.

           You caught sight of T’Challa’s familiar form looming over beside the fish tank, his small platoon of Dora Milaje spread strategically throughout the foyer; all dressed elegantly. You took post beside a small bookshelf, crossing your arms over your chest as you gazed at T’Challa.

           “Your Highness.” The woman who had been personally assigned to watch over the villa spoke up, drawing his attention.

           T’Challa turned to face you, a smooth handsome smile spreading over his features. “Good morning, umhle.” You brushed off the name he had begun to call you by in his native tongue, eyes following his figure as he moved to stand a few feet in front of you.

           “Good morning, Your Highness.” You said, your voice tinged with a light Wakandan accent.

           “Please, call me T’Challa.”

           “Your—T’Challa,” You emphasized his name drawing a nod out of him, “Do you mind if I ask why you are here? This is the third time this week.” You glanced back at Wanda in hopes she knew why he was here, but she just slightly shook her head.

           The King chuckled softly and turned to gesture at one of his Dora Milaje, they stepped forward and handed him a small sack that was weighed down by something quite heavy. T’Challa dipped his hand into the bag and pulled out a perfectly fat and ripe mango, he ran his thumb over the darkened skin of the fruit, and smiled at Wanda.

           “I heard your friend liked the mangoes I brought last time.” He let the mango fall back into the sack before he bunched it up and handed it to the woman who would’ve been the only one to have told him about Wanda’s appreciation of the delicious African fruit. He continued, “But, that’s not why I’ve come. Captain Rogers has requested you both be invited to the dining party held at the palace, it is tonight.”

           Wanda stepped up beside you and asked, “Will we be safe from the UN?”

           “Yes, I personally chose the guest list. Though Mr. Stark and Agent Romanoff will be attending the party, so would you want to have Okoye accompany you throughout the party?” T’Challa gestured to the Dora Milaje woman who had protected you and Wanda since you stepped foot in Wakanda.

           Okoye was a tall, regal woman with flawless dark skin. Her hair had been shaved off as part of the tradition for being a part of the Dora Milaje and in her ears were large gold hoops. She hovered next to the open kitchen entryway, her chocolate eyes carefully watching the exchange.

           You shot her an apologetic look. “No offense, but I think she’s going to be watching over us regardless.” Okoye’s lips curled up at your words and she looked fine with what you said. T’Challa didn’t have anything to say because he knew you were right.

           He pursed his lips and glanced at your own personal Dora Milaje. “I had Okoye confide in what you shall wear to the party.” Another woman stepped up holding two black boxes, you and Wanda both grasped the boxes marked in your initials. T’Challa said, “I have not seen the dresses.”

           “Thank you, T’Challa.” Wanda’s eyes were bright and she looked truly excited about the dress she had received. You then realized that you had to release the cardigan to grab the box and it lay splayed open, exposing your underwear and lower stomach. T’Challa respectably maintained eye contact.

           He slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks and looked to be ready to leave. He slightly bowed his head to Wanda before stepping towards you, causing you to slightly shy way by his looming presence. T’Challa searched your eyes for a moment before he pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket, setting it over your initials.

           He lowered his voice so no one could hear, “A gift of my own, umhle.” You stared at the little box before T’Challa moved back towards the front door. He then waved. “I’ll see you tonight. Hambani kakuhle.” The King disappeared out onto the porch and his form was hidden behind the three Dora Milaje he had accompany him, the women escorting him out to his vehicle.

           Okoye shut the door after them and locked it, turning to face you and Wanda. She approached with an inhuman grace, her heels softly clicking on the floorboards. Okoye’s accent was much different than T’Challa’s and very heavy, but her voice was soothing and held a sense of power; her English not quite perfected.

           “We have very busy day ahead. I scheduled King’s personal stylist to do hair and makeup,” Okoye informed.

           Wanda let the woman take her dress out of her hands before you placed your gifts atop the box. Okoye moved to set them on the large black rock that had grinded down to serve as a coffee table. You followed Wanda into the kitchen and brushed past her as she pulled open the fridge, the sack of fruits lay on the marble center island and you brought it closer to you.

           “Hey, Wanda?” You snagged her attention from grabbing a yogurt.

           She saw you pull out a piece of paper from the sack and Wanda immediately shut the fridge, coming to stand at your shoulder to read the note with you. It was from Steve and T’Challa obviously wanted to keep it between both you and Wanda.

           ‘Y/N and Wanda,

                       T’Challa must have told you about the party already, but he didn’t tell you that Sam and I will be returning to attend. We will update you when you see us, but our efforts have brought us from Siberia to Ukraine. I hope you both have been treated well underneath T’Challa’s care and he mentioned assigning a “Dora Milaje”? I don’t know what that is, but I hope to see you both at the party.

           I promise we aren’t missing any limbs.



           Wanda smiled and picked up a mango when you folded the note and pushed it back into the sack. The red glow of her magic began to twirl around her fingers before the mango slowly levitated above her palm, her magic bunched around the bottom of the fruit as if holding it up before Wanda swiftly cut the mango into even slices. Wanda lowered the slices to the countertop and the red glow disappeared.

           “There is a reason knives exist, Wanda.” You gestured to the cutlery on the other side of the kitchen beside the stove. She rolled her eyes and took a bite of mango, a soft hum of contentment leaving her mouth.

           “Y/N?” Okoye’s voice carried from the living room and you stepped around the counter to lean against a column, seeing she had taken your dress out of the box.

           It was in a special bag but you could full well see the gorgeous gown. Your jaw went slack and Okoye had her brows raised in surprise, staring at the black dress that had glittering diamonds collected all around the neckline and shoulders, before they began to scatter and dissolve into the pure black of the sleeves and waistline. Knowing T’Challa, every single one of the diamonds was real and that dress was probably more expensive than one of Tony’s suits.

           “I believe the cat’s got your tongue, Y/N.” Wanda mumbled from behind you.

.  .  .

T’Challa’s Palace  |  8 Hours Later

           Okoye got out of the SUV first, standing by the door as Wanda slid out behind her. She was unsteady in her heels but she managed to hold her own, brushing her hands over the deep maroon-colored dress when she saw all the people making their way down the beautiful walkway and into the palace. You stepped out of the car and warily took post beside Wanda, fidgeting with the ring T’Challa had gifted you with that was placed on your right hand.

           “Don’t worry. The King make sure you in good hands.” Okoye reassured and it was amazing watching her change within an instant. At the villa she showed more expression and spoke quite often, but she had hardly said a full sentence in the car and now she wore a stoic demeanor. No one was going to touch you and Wanda, even if the both of you could hold your own.

           “Do you think Sam and Steve are here already?” Wanda asked softly as you both trailed behind Okoye towards the commotion.

           You pursed your lips and glanced around at your surroundings, the walkway separated from the gardens by a thick and neatly trimmed bush that acted much like a hedge. The air was scented with the perfume from the exotic flowers and was thick with humidity, something that you had gotten used to in six weeks.

           “We’ll have to see. I don’t want to draw attention and use my powers,” You replied.

           Wanda nodded and you both settled into an uneasy silence, hoping you wouldn’t run into Tony or Natasha whilst inside.

           The banquet hall was massive and brimming with important people, T’Challa’s Dora Milaje lingering in the shadows as elegantly dressed women. You knew Okoye had her necklace designed to be a weapon as well as an object of beauty, the jewelry made of vibranium that was shaped into looking like teeth. The King of Wakanda knew the real power behind women and that made him just that much more appealing to you.

           Wanda kept close to you, her uneasiness roiling off her in waves and you reached back and grasped her hand. Her eyes flickered to yours and a relieved smile graced her deep red lips. You could see her relax and you both managed to wedge yourselves into a place where the crowd had thinned, giving you air to breathe.

           Okoye moved to talk with another Dora Milaje a good distance away so you scanned the hall for any signs of Steve or Sam. You hadn’t seen any of your ex-team members either, which was a relief. That’s when you caught a glimpse of movement in the crowd, you saw everyone stepping out of the way of T’Challa and he was heading straight for you and Wanda.

           “I see Steve. Sam is next to him,” Wanda told you.

           You immediately turned to see where she was referring to in the crowd and sure enough they were there. The two soldiers were dressed in nice black and white suits, conversing with each other and holding glasses of whiskey in their hands. They weren’t the ones to go for wine.

           T’Challa finally reached you and he was dressed in a black-on-black suit and tie, evidently matching you. He held a flute of golden champagne in his fingers and he quickly took a sip before setting it on table nearby.

           Wanda excused herself, “I’m going to talk to Steve and Sam.” She slipped through the crowd and left you alone with the King of Wakanda.

           “You look like a queen, Y/N.” T’Challa said, reaching out for you to gingerly take his hand. He bent slightly and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, running the pad of his thumb over your fingers. You couldn’t help the blush that tinged your cheeks at his words before you tugged your hand out of his careful warm grasp.

           You tried your best to bow in the dress that hugged your form and T’Challa grasped your arms. He straightened you up, before he smiled down at you. You met his eyes and lowered your voice, “T’Challa I know how you wish for me to treat you as my equal, but we are in your own home and surrounded by people who see you as a King. I think it is proper of me to bow.”

           “Umhle, you are supposed to take the hand of Royalty and kiss it. Bowing has been outdated for decades,” He chuckled and you sighed.

           “You are the only Royalty I’ve met so I wouldn’t know that.”

           T’Challa dropped his hands from your arms and opened his mouth to say something when you were both interrupted. He turned to reveal a middle-aged man who seemed to really need to speak with T’Challa, so the King of Wakanda bid you a swift farewell, before he followed the man to a group of business partners.

           You maneuvered your way through the crowd to the bar, but was stopped by a warm hand encircling your wrist. You immediately prepped in defense and whirled to face who it was. It wasn’t anyone you recognized but he was handsome and wearing a bright smile on his features. He dropped your wrist and stepped back.

           “I apologize if I startled you, but I had to know your name.” He admitted.

           You were hesitant as you said, “Oh, well I’m Y/N…”

           “It’s a beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” The man flirted and you sensed something off about him. You didn’t know if you were being paranoid but this didn’t seem right to you. The man looked around and offered, “May we go somewhere more private?”

           You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Uh, I was actually going to talk to my friends.”

           He stepped forward and you shied away from him, trying not to bump into the table behind you. The man lifted a hand and gently rest it on your hip causing you to flinch away from his touch. He tried grabbing your waist again and his voice astoundingly stayed calm, “I’m sure they can wait, Y/N. There is a table over here that we can talk at.”

           You weren’t really looking to knock someone out at this party and his hands always managed to grip your hips, no matter how many times you batted him away. The man came ever closer and you tried to look behind him for any sign of Steve or Sam, hell even Okoye. You let out a soft whimper escape your lips when he backed you into the table and slid his hands up your sides.

           Then, a hand wrapped around his shoulder and wrenched him off you. You caught a breath of relief and an arm snaked around your waist smoothly, tugging you into the solid warmth of someone’s side.

           A familiar accented voice was sharp and stabbing at the man, “Do not lay a hand on my woman again or you won’t get off with just a warning.”

           The man’s demeanor changed and he sneered, “How do I know you aren’t just pretending?”

           You glanced up at T’Challa and he narrowed his eyes at the man before he looked down at you. You were surprised when he captured your lips in a kiss and when his grip on your waist pulled you slightly closer, you relaxed into his figure. His mouth was gentle and passionate against yours, easily topping every kiss you’ve had before this because of how much pent-up emotion passed between the both of you. You kissed T’Challa back with just as much soft ferocity, resting your hands on his solid chest as his lips slightly worked against your own. He tasted like expensive wine and sweet champagne; something you would’ve never known you craved. T’Challa reluctantly pulled away and looked back at the man who was gawking at the sight of the King of Wakanda kissing a woman he realized was an Avenger.

           You were slightly dizzy and a euphoric smile graced your lips as you regained your breath. T’Challa cleared his throat and said, “I believe that was the proof you needed. I don’t want to see you ever again in my home.” His chest slightly caved as he exhaled slowly.

           Two Dora Milaje suddenly stepped up to the man and roughly grasped his arms, speaking in a harsh African tongue you couldn’t pinpoint. They drug the man away and Okoye appeared out of the crowd, eyeing you and T’Challa with a look of worry.

           “Everything okay?” Okoye asked you.

           T’Challa dropped his hand from your waist and his voice dropped to a scary octave. He accused Okoye, “You were supposed to keep watch of Y/N and Miss Maximoff. She could’ve been in serious danger if it wasn’t for me finding her, Okoye.”

           Okoye bowed her head. “My apologies, Your Highness. It w—”

           You cut her off, “No, T’Challa, it was my fault.” You stepped in front of him and he gazed down at you with widened eyes. “She was doing her job, but I didn’t tell her where I was going.” You looked back at the Dora Milaje and she was gazing at you in surprise. You sighed, “I understand if I am a reliability so it is okay to force me out of Wakanda.”

           “Umhle, I am not letting you leave Wakanda.” T’Challa’s eyes flared with an intensity that burned into you. He glanced at Okoye and dismissed her, “You may go.”

           Okoye shot you a thankful look before she turned and vanished into the crowd, leaving you with a frustrated King. You turned back to him and met his gaze, seeing the intensity had dissipated to leave an emotion you couldn’t discern. He raised a hand to brush the backs of his fingers against your cheek, causing your heartrate to steadily increase. You felt the cool metal of his father’s ring against the heated skin and T’Challa let his hand fall back to his side.

           “My father told me that the woman I would marry would not hesitate to go against my choices and would see me not as Royalty, but as a man who was equal to her.” T’Challa spoke carefully, his gaze dropping from yours as he recalled the memories.

           You slightly furrowed your brow and searched his face for what he meant, before he grasped your right hand. He lifted it up and brushed his thumb over the vibranium ring he had given to you, it was beautiful black ring that had a silver-colored design that was shaped into a wide arrow that stretched the span of the ring.

           T’Challa said, “He also told me to give this ring to that woman.”

           Your breath hitched and your gaze locked with his, realizing what he had meant.

.   .   .

           “Well, well, well. Looks like you’ve got Cat Costume wrapped around your finger, Y/N.” Sam chuckled as you took a seat at the circular dining table beside him. He lifted his glass of whiskey to his mouth and knocked the rest of it back, setting it back onto the white tablecloth.

           You shot him a dark look and stated, “Well, I’ve been in a jungle for six weeks and the only people I’ve seen is T’Challa, Wanda, and the Dora Milaje.”

           Steve straightened up in his chair at the mention of the Royal guards and he slightly furrowed his brow. He asked, “What is the Dora Milaje?

           Wanda was sipping on a glass of white wine before she quickly replied, “They are the women in the corners of the room with no hair. They are specially trained as warrior wives-to-be, but T’Challa only views them as bodyguards. We even have a Dora Milaje looking over us at the villa.”

           Steve nodded his head as he took in the information. He turned his head to look at one of the dark-skinned women standing next to a tall white marble column, her eyes immediately locking onto the table you were seated at and Steve immediately looked away.

           Sam let out a low whistle. “Damn, T’Challa definitely knows how to choose his bodyguards.”

           “Don’t even think about it, Sam.” You rolled your eyes, “They would eat you alive.”

           Sam shrugged his shoulders and continued to stare at the Dora Milaje woman. He tilted his head at you, “Doesn’t hurt to let a man dream, Y/N. I mean you’re the one kissing the damn King of Wakanda.”

           “That damn King of Wakanda would gladly eat you alive as well,” T’Challa’s voice came from behind you and Sam jumped in his seat. You all turned to see the man approach with Okoye at his side, he sat down in the open chair next to you. Okoye gracefully lowering herself into the remaining seat.

           Steve leaned forward onto his elbows and nodded at T’Challa. “Your Highness.”

           “Captain Rogers.” T’Challa greeted back.

           Steve looked around at the full table and said, “Now that we’re all here, I’d like to tell you about the HYDRA information we recovered.” He exchanged a look with Sam before the other soldier leaned forward.

           Sam said, “We’re going to have to pull Bucky out of cryostasis.”

           “Why?” Wanda asked.

           “Because he’s the only one who knows how to kill an active Winter Soldier.”

Read Before The Winter [Part 2]

Tagging: @writingbarnes, @pleasecallmecaptain, @currentlyavengerstrash, @positixe, @ltsaradharkness, @ek823, @bookchic20, @marvelfanuniverse, @queenieofasgard, @abbie-madeley, @sammskellington, @justareader, @kryloxen, @capsicle-fondues, and @infinitybarnes.

anonymous asked:

the Rfa members + unknown and V reacting to Mc becoming pregnant. ;u; buT. Mc says nothing, showing them the pregnancy test because theyre nervous of how they react to it.

aww this is cute and kinda made my day!!! here u go w much love

-you’re just holding up the stick with a shaking hand, the other covering your mouth
-he’s a little shocked at first but he’s so happy!!!! he hugs you for so long and is crying of happiness
-he spends the rest of the day cuddling with you and talking about the baby
-the kids gonna end up spoiled as fuck

-he’s so calm??¿¿
-you’re crying but he’s hugging you and shushing you
-he brings you tea and food through like
-the rest of the entire pregnancy telling you you need to rest
-he’s rly happy but tries to keep calm most of the time
-won’t let you try and do rash things by yourself like lift heavy boxes or go up too many flights of stairs

-“im gonna be a dad???+???1?1”
-hes just a little ray of sunshine he’s the happiest man in the world
-that kids gonna be just like him and so loved
-he’s gonna raise it r i g h t

-a??? true miracle???
-either way she’s reading simple cookbooks to your stomach every night
-she’s crying too
-reason #1 because she’s having!!! a kid!!! with you!!! the love of her life!!!!
-reason #2 bc how the fuck are you pregnant she doesn’t unders t and

-he’s reading his unborn child memes
-or the shrek book
-he’s so!! happy when you tell him cause there’s gonna be a tiny him running around

-he’s a ball of dunshine, didn’t do anything wrong, deserves to be happy for the rest of his life
-both he and i are crying

-“we’re having a tiny person???”
-he’s confused, has never heard of a child before probably
-but he’s happy bc someone lives him enough to have a tiny human together with him he can’t believe

a summary:
je suis,,,, how do you say it,,, gay as fuck

weekend mood: buying everything in one trip because fuck the building’s only lift being broken and fuck going up and down 7 flights of stairs more than once a day

Jimin; surprise mother fu--

;;@taehuyu me, suffer? beach you wish
/891 words, mini scenario, happy birthday chimchim!
(photo credit)

“Look, he doesn’t know shit about this. Take a cab to the hotel and wait there. One of us will walk you up and from then, hah, surprise mother fucker.

You’re recalling of Taehyung’s words over and over again. Your hand grips onto the suitcase and you gulp as you reach the sidewalk of in front of the hotel. So luxurious and expensive, expensive, expensive all over and it smells like money just as you walk in.

It’s Jimin’s birthday today, if it wasn’t obvious with the way Jimin whines over the phone again and again of how this would be the first of the first birthdays he’s spent without you by his side. Though, it wasn’t much of a shocker when he complains and you’re there to listen, there there, child, shut up. No, you didn’t say that, but you know you could shut him up properly now that you’re actually here.

Guess that broken streak of not being by his side on his birthday will have to postpone to another year.

You send a text, along the lines of Tae, I’m here and no less than ten minutes, the lift dings and you’re greeted with two gummy grins.

“Hey,” Namjoon says, reeling you into a hug before Seokjin receives the other. Seokjin takes courtesy of rolling your luggage, Namjoon presses the lift button and up you guys go.

“Was the flight long?”

“Say, thirteen hours?”

“Holy shit,” Seokjin mutters out of habit—he hates flights and—“Jimin better appreciate the fuck out of this,”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” You snicker, walking out and following Namjoon’s cue towards a certain hotel room and Seokjin hands you the card, “Enjoy your stay,”

You return the both of them a hug before the two trails off back to their rooms and it’s a silent agreement that you’ll take care of Jimin for the day. Well, foreign country or not, you’ll try your best. You scan the card, step in and quietly step through.

Jimin’s heavy sleeping would finally come in handy.

Your bag is parked by the side and you lock the door. The jacket on your shoulders weighing you down since morning is ditched by the chair and by the looks of it (since the airport), it’s still rather bright here.

8:21am, the clock reads but you admit that you miss this boy so much that you’re going to wake him up.

Upon taking a right turn from the corridor, walking past the living room and mini-like kitchen, you see Jimin sprawled out in bed. He’s tucked under the blanket and it follows his figure around like a cape on his back. You grin and quietly approach him, deciding to sit on the bed and you’re thinking of how you should wake him up.

Kiss? Hug? Oh, there are too many options but you go with—“…mmph… five more minutes…” He mumbles, tugging the blanket over his head since he has his face buried deep in the pillow and you mute your chuckle. With pressed lips and a suppressed smile, you repeat what you’ve done, tapping his back rather harshly that the slap resonates the room and he groans, “Hyung, later! I want to sleep in!”

You give a hard slap, this close to making his flesh turn purple after the faint red and that’s the last straw.

He yanks down the blanket, daggered eyes slits his eyes open and creases etched to his forehead. It all wipes away too soon when he realizes who he’s seeing. His eyes dilate with shock, his lips gape and his eyes are blinking a few times too hard to make sure this isn’t a—“I-I’m… this…” He gives himself a slap on the cheek, forcing himself to stay—“This isn’t a dream?”

You shake your head, now rubbing circles over the hot smacks you’ve left on his skin, his arm, actually. You’re still amazed on how he manages to stay warm despite being only covering half of his body since he drags the other when he moves about in his sleep.

“Sorry for the sudden intrusion of your sleep. I mean, you can continu—!”you end up yelping when you’re being yanked down into his arms, the warmth that basks in and it radiates like thousands of light kisses peppering your skin when he nuzzles his face in your hair. “I can’t believe you’re—oh my—fuck,” He’s at lost for words, resorting to just inhale your scent, holding you so tight he’s afraid you’re going to fly away but when your arms snake around his waist and he moves down to get more comfortable, you’re staying?


How long?

Say, five days?

Holy fuck—that’s insane—you’re insane. I fucking love you.

“Hey,” You lightly thud the side of his head, making him peek up from his mini outburst of letting it sink in that you’re here. After nights of doubt and missing you endlessly, you’re here. Minutes and hours spent on phone calls, video chats and daily dose of pictures, he’s feeling you against his skin. You have him wrapped around in a haze of thinking this is what heaven should be like and the shivers run down his spine when he stares into your eyes—you’re really, really here.

“Happy birthday, Jimin.”

“With you here, it’s a happy birthday.”

Paper Flies

A small piece of paper flies through the air,

It glides with the wind under it’s frail paper wings,

Dancing and twirling it goes through the skies,

Until the wind dies out.

It falls to the ground in a graceful cascade,

There it landed, on it’s face,

Away from the wind,

Devoid of it’s grace,

Where it plead for the wind to pick it up once again.

How it longed to be back in the sky,

Joyful and free,

But it couldn’t be,

For it’s wings were torn,

Unable to fly.

It twisted and writhed in agony on the cold asphalt ground,

Where many-a-breeze had attempted to lift this paper, poor,

But it had given up,

It’s dreams of flight were no more.

Then there was another,

A breeze,

Quite slight,

And it started out small,

But quickly grew in might,

The breeze grew to a gust,

And the paper looked up,

And though it’s wings may be tattered,

The wind picked it up,

Then the paper,

It flew,

Unsteadily at first,

But it was like true rebirth,

And other papers,

Or different kinds,

With different tears,

Flew beside it,

On the breeze where papers fly.

- ( @maximumridersjs )  or me

Today is going terribly

I’ve just moved back to my dorm so I am missing my cats

The lift broke so I walked up eight flights of stairs carrying boxes just to find it had started to work when I reached my floor.

Found out I did terribly on my coursework.

My shower has broken.

And I am a clumsy idiot and just accidentally dropped 800 earbuds on the floor.

By The Fireplace

Summary: This is my first oneshot thing; based off Dan’s tweet about falling asleep in front of the fireplace. (yes I know it was a long time ago)

(Phil’s POV)

I was happy to be home. It had been a long week and even though I loved my family I always felt I relied on them too much, so I didn’t want to impose myself on them for too long.

I put my key in the lock and turned it to the left smoothly. It opened with a small creek and I stepped inside with my small suitcase. Thankfully my presents had fit inside as I hated having lots of bags on trains.

I shut the door with a small thud behind me and locked it. With one hand I lifted my suitcase and carried it up the remaining flight of stairs, being extra careful not to make any scratches on the wall. At that moment I would’ve killed for a lift like we used to have, well maybe not have killed, but done something rather bad.

Keep reading

014 Drunken Suggestions: Paris I

Notes: Inspired by one of my favourite songs ever which is Paris by Lana Del Rey (please listen to it here before you read!) and it sort of follows the song. Also inspired by me being in Paris a few weeks back. It might not conclude properly! It’s going to be a two, if not three parter because there’s a lot I want to get in. There is an image (text of Harry’s handwriting) right the middle of this and it is crucial for how we go from one thing to another so do open it if it doesn’t come up straight away!

You could tell the nights were drawing in. What felt like daylight only ten minutes ago was now almost pitch black as you sat celebrating Harry’s friend’s birthday in a central London pub. It was always Thursday in London; always. Nobody seemed to go out on a Friday, they were nursing their hangovers from the night before. However, it wasn’t to be a late one for you as your thoughts returned back to the mountain of work you had yet to complete ahead of your midday Friday deadline tomorrow.

Looking around to find your Harry, you caught his eye and tried to mouth that you were going to head home. Slightly tipsy, your boyfriend was struggling to understand, mouthing a ‘what’ back to you and squinting his eyes as if that would make it easier for him to understand. You repeated yourself, bringing your fist up, your thumb pointing towards the exit, to which he pointed to himself, mouthing ‘me’ across to you. You rolled your eyes, gathering up your things and taking yourself over to Harry.

Bringing yourself closer to his ear, “I’m gonna head off,” you breathed in to him, and inhaling his vanilla scent.

Keep reading

Seungri; lost and found

✉in which Seunghyun’s place is like a pigsty and you’re cleaning it up–only to find his journal 
❝ not too much on the angst part because our panda is precious ; u ; but i hope you still like it! //prompt!
►2415 words | scenario
© (photo credit)

When you’re about to continue on with your daily life, cleaning the rack and shelves because damn it, dust is collecting again, a phone vibrates on the counter and you groan—who the hell?! When you’re lazing around in the couch doing absolutely nothing, praying that someone will drag you out of the confinement of your home for some fun, no one ever calls. But when you’re a few steps up on the ladder, desperately trying to reach for that corner of the shelf, your phone is having a seizure. For the past twenty minutes, there had been calls—but you’ve ignored them. There had been texts, whether they’re dying and calling for help or just want to chill, you don’t give a damn.

But there has been three calls in a row and you figured, whoever needs saving shall receive.

You quickly get down from the ladder, toss the rag into the pail (thank God it went in or you’ll have another thing to get mad about) and reach for your phone. You slide it to answer and grumpily say, “Seunghyun, I really hope you’re on the brink of dying and you need me to save you to be calling me so many times,”

He chuckles at your frustration, “Let me guess, cleaning day again?”

You sigh and rest your hip against the counter, feeling a bit guilty for venting it out on someone who just wants to… well…

“Yeah, that shelf is being a pain in the ass,”

He lets out a dry laugh and it’s usually when he—“I guess it’s a bad time to ask you for a favor?”

With narrowed eyes in picturing he’s in front of you, your hand is on your hip, head tilted and even Seunghyun can picture that clearly, “Depends… what do you want now?”

“Hey, I don’t always ask you for favors!”

“Think about it, really think about it, Lee Seunghyun,” You deadpan and he’s flipping back to the pages of the previous days, “You’re my savior and please, please, please? I have a meeting soon and—“

“That’s not my problem,” You sing-song, in a tone that Seunghyun’s well aware that you’re about to hang up but then he says, “I’ll be leaving on a business trip for a week and I need you to take care of my place and I’ll leave the keys in your mailbox and I’ll put all responsibility on you. Okay I love you, bye!” You’re gaping at this point, still amazed at how shameless he is and how fast his speed of speech has gotten nowadays that you just stare at your refrigerator with your pupils dilated with what the fuck? Then you realize what he’s said and since Seunghyun’s one to be the top of your list of trusted people of all time, you’re giving him a ring.

It rings for a while, you know he’s staring at his phone with contemplation but he answers it.

“I’m sorry but I really, really, really need you to help me because you know how picky I am with letting people to my place and I trust you so please—“

“When do I come over?”

You can hear the smirk in his voice, “Next Saturday! And could clean my place-“

“I’m not cleaning it after you get back, too,”

“Could you also stock up ice cream—“

“Don’t push it,”

Keep reading


Hi everyone,   well… some of you might have heard of


’s and


idea about an AU of


Mosterfalls Au.   So we proudly present:


  The basic idea is that Dipper, feeling guilty for the monster accident, makes a deal with Bill to turn everyone back to normal except him. So he´s stuck, or that´s what he thinks. Because of course Bill messes with him and Dipper slowly turns into a full little deer, including his instincts growing and his human part fading until they lose him completely. It´s up to Mabel and the whole town to save him.   So have a few more of luciles absolute awesome art (cause really-  I lost my heart to her Dipper-full-deer-drawings which are the reason we came up with this idea in the first place) and the beginning of my little fanfiction for it, witch you could also find

here on

Thanks for Lucile’s super helpful beta, but also for the great work of


as my second beta, who turned my work into something readable (cause neither me nor Lucile are native English speakers)! So thank you bharlie !   Here you go, have fun with this new born AU! __________________________________________________

Chapter 1: Deal

The soft sunlight warmed his fur, the grass beneath him was soft and smelled like life itself. Relaxing, his head heavy with the lack of proper sleep, he didn’t notice how his ears had begun to slowly fall until they brushed softly against his cheeks. Dipper’s eyes shot open from the unexpected touch and a small sound escaped his lips while he quickly tried to blink the soreness from his eyes.

He had been up all night trying to find a cure to this damn curse.

And of course he failed.


Dipper sighed, rubbing at his pounding head in frustration just to feel his soft brown hair beneath his fingers.

‘My hat? Where-’

But the thief was just a few foot before him.

“Gompers!” he exclaimed.

He spotted the goat giving him a blank stare, continuing to chew on his hat as if he found it to be the most delicious thing on the planet. Huffing, Dipper pushed himself to his thin deer legs and started forward, his bloodshot eyes focusing on the animal as he mumbled under his breath.

“Dumb goat, eating whatever’s in front of you, I bet you can’t even think-”

Before he was near the beast, one of his hind hooves suddenly caught on the Journal laying in the grass where he had been studying before, causing him to trip and land in the dirt, face first. Fortunately, the sudden quick movement of the cervitaur was more than enough to startle Gompers into dropping his meal and leaving to find a quieter place to feed.

Dipper was left behind to push himself back up, rubbing the mud off of his face until he noticed the chewed up hat in front of him.

“Great!” he proclaimed.

He picked up the article of clothing, setting it carefully back on his head between his ears, turning back to the Journal. With a small sigh the half deer folded his legs on the soft grass and reached out for the old book in front of him.

At least he was awake now.

The Journal in his hands felt as heavy as before. The pages greeted him with well known entries. He had read them, all of them. But nothing seemed to be the clue he’d been looking for. A solution to the damage he had caused and to the pain, the guilt, he felt at his core.

Dipper’s eyes had started to burn while his ears had flattened as if to emphasise his thoughts. Of course, the damn deer part of him just had to give a visual display of his feelings. Memories of the last few days took over his mind.

Yesterday Mabel’s bowl had broken, leaving her to dry on the parlor floor, surrounded by shattered glass and water too shallow to matter. Alone.

Stan had been resting on the porch, or more accurately, he had turned to stone there. No breathing, no heartbeat, no signs of life. As still and as dead as a real statue.

Soos hadn’t come to work that day, either. A few minutes in the scorching heat was more than enough to turn the Golem into a puddle on the floor. Even Wendy had called in sick that day and it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out the reason, considering the full moon the night before.

What of Dipper, then, the mighty explorer of the mysteries of Gravity Falls? Where was he while his sister was writhing on the floor, desperate and gasping for water?

In the forest, of course!

Once again, only him and his Journal searching out a peaceful place to examine the curse and had it not been for the distant sound of hunters disturbing the tranquility he would never had been forced back to the Shack and he would’ve been too late.

But he had found her.

Dry, too weak to speak or even to lift her head, voice gone from her yells and screams for help. Her lips which were known for their smile were stretched into a thin line that belied her pain and distress while she sobbed quietly.

Panic had forced him into action as he tried to pick her up, tried to carry her to the bathtub with no success. It would have been impossible for him to lift her up a flight of stairs with her tail as long and as heavy as it was, and with how weak and uncertain his body had become. His legs had buckled when he attempted anyway, desperate.

He stayed with her, bringing bottles of water to pour over her as he screamed for his Grunkle. He had watched his sister’s life fade with every passing minute.  Until Stan finally woke up.

The Gargoyle ran to their side, lifting up Mabel with ease and hurrying her to the tub.

He would never forget the fear on his Grunkle’s face as he cared for the half dead and crying child before him. The steady rush of water calmed her breathing and with every second colour slowly came back to Mabel’s face.

They were safe. For now.

Dipper was certain that the curse was going to tear them apart and take much more than just their human forms.

It would take his family’s and the town’s minds.

It would take their lives.

All because of me…’ Dipper felt a lump settle in his throat.

He needed to end it.

But how? The Journal was useless… so wasn’t he useless as well?

What could he do to undo his mistake? What could he do to save the town? To save everyone?

His eyes were burning, the soft plea fading with the wind, not loud enough for even his own ears to hear.

“What am I supposed to do…?”

His desperate whisper didn’t stay unheard for too long.

Dipper’s silent call into the empty space triggered the appearance of something much worse than the curse of the River.

A sinister and familiar voice entered his thoughts, causing the young cervitaur to jump to his feet in surprise and spin around to face the demon that had emerged behind him

“Well, well, Pine Tree! Still looking to fix your monster of a mistake?” it cackled.

Bill Cipher’s eerie grin hovered above his face, forcing Dipper to take in Bill’s human appearance. A yellow, tight fitting suit glittered in the midday sun, emitting a warm light that betrayed the cold aura the demon wearing it possessed.

Dipper swallowed and turned his head away from the unwanted party, looking back down at the Journal instead.

“Go away, Bill! I’m not in the mood.” he snapped.

The demon, of course, had other things in mind.

With a face plastered in faux hurt he took a step closer to the deertaur, lowering his voice as much as he could to soothe the nerves of his prey.

“Aww, my dear little Pine Tree, would you really want to be so harsh to the one and only being able to offer you a way out of this mess?” Bill almost sounded like he was pouting.

Dipper didn’t answer, trying his hardest to ignore Bill’s words, but a slight flick of one ear in the monster’s direction was more than enough to widen his grin to inhuman levels.

“Isn’t that what you want, kid? To stop all this supernatural stuff from happening? To make all your little friends human again so that they can go on with their lives?” he murmured in a velvety tone. “Don’t you want your sister to walk on her own two feet again, or for your ‘ol Grunkle to feel the warmth of human touch? Don’t you want the suffering to end, for all of the pain you caused to stop?”

The demon’s words were already racing through Dipper’s mind and tugging at his heart. Every fibre of his body scream to say ’yes!’, if only so the pain in his gut would stop.

To undo all of this.

Dipper, however, knew better than to trust him. A deal with Bill was never a solution, and neither was it a good idea.

The cervitaur swallowed harshly, the cold wind that picked up was curling through his pelt as he held his answer on the tip of his tongue, avoiding all eye contact with dapper monster.

“I won’t make a deal with you. Not now, not ever, not again.”

There was a silence between the two for a few seconds until Bill spoke up again, the joy in his voice making him sound leagues more honest than he truly was.

“You should! Because I promise this time I’m going to tell you the truth on both sides of the deal!” he grinned, obviously ecstatic.

Dipper chewed on his lip, shivering when Bill’s cold hand reached out for his shoulder, touching it softly while the demon’s tender voice brushed his ear in a whisper.

“I promise to change everyone back to their normals old human selves.“ he paused. “Everyone… but you.”

The last part got through to him.

Doubtfully, the little deer boy looked up at the golden bricked face of the demon, meeting a smile too wide to be sincere.

The possibility of a way out of this was enough to mae his voice crack.


Bill’s smile faltered, with a sigh he shook his head, showing deep sorrow for the kid before him.

“Well, it seems that these are the consequences of the deal, my furry friend. But I´ll give all of them their lives back, they could go living as humans again. Doing… doing whatever it is you strange creatures do. ”

Dipper could feel his heart in his throat, until it dropped with the next sentence Cipher spoke, remembering his end of the deal, while the demon’s eyes looked straight into his own.

“Only you´ll stay this way.”

The sentence slowly sunk in his mind, his head pounding for the stress of this deal.

Would he really be able to give himself up this easily?

But… it was his fault after all, so bearing the consequences would be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it?

And well, at least he didn’t need to fear being hunted by one of his friends again.

Of course, a life as a cervitaur wasn’t what he had in mind for himself but… he’s sure that he’d find a way to make the best of it, right?

At least his family and the rest of the town would be free from the curse.

‘I could save them…’

Dippers voice quivered as he spoke up again, he needed to clear his throat before the question was able to leave his dry lips.

“So - I’d be the only one that doesn’t change back?”

A little grin made it’s way onto the demon’s face, his voice honest and firm.

“You’ll stay that fluffy little monster you are, stuck in your current deer body, yes.”   

The half deer hesitated, his words caught in his throat as he was filled with suspicion while he looked at Bill.

“Why? What´s in it for you, Cipher, to leave me like this?” he inquired.

The demon just arched an eyebrow and spoke down to the boy with an arrogant tone of voice.

“Well, because I happen to like you that way, Pine Tree! Also, watching you struggle in this form will be enough to entertain me for a while.”

Dipper flinched. It was true this part of the deal would be rather uncomfortable. His little deer legs shivered at this thought but still a brave, silent question left his lips while his eyes were observing the grass below him.

“But everyone else will change back, right?”

Bill just rolled his eyes, but repeated himself anyway.

“Promise, all but you.”

‘All but me…’

Again the thought of being left out, being alone in this mess was sending shivers down his spine, making his tail twitch uncertainly.

However, before fear ate away the last of Dipper’s courage, Bill spoke up again, enticing him with a sugary sweet voice.

"But isn’t this a small price to pay for you to sleep at night again? All of your guilt and worries coming to an end. All the damage you caused, all the fear and distress you put these poor people through.” Bill paused, a wicked grin on his face. “Isn’t it a small price to pay for your family?”

With that Bill turned his back to the deertaur, leaving him behind and drowning in guilt that made the demon’s spine shiver in excitement. It didn’t take long, though, until the kid got back up on his hooves until he looked up to him again with a determined look that put a much more sinister sort of smirk of Cipher’s face.

Brave little Pine Tree, just as expected. You’re just too easy to manipulate,’  Bill lamented.

Of course, Dipper was left none the wiser to the demon’s thoughts as he wiped his face of any maliciousness when he turned around to face to boy once more. The kid’s voice was firm and honest, much like his own answers.

“You’ll change them back?” Dipper asked.


“Everyone but me?”


“You’re not going to hurt them?”

“I won’t, promise!” Bill confirmed.

Dipper hesitated for a second, ears pressed close to his head. He took a deep breath, trying to broaden his small shoulders, determination burning in his eyes as he held out one hand to seal his fate, forming the word that Bill had been waiting for loud and clear.


The monstrous grin spread broad across his triangular face, the human body he was cursed to wear crumbling away like dust until only the demon’s original shape was left, freed with the power in the deal.

A lifeless red eye tore deep into Dipper’s soul while suddenly their surroundings faded into monochrome. Bill Cipher’s voice echoed through the Mindscape from beneath his laughter as he grabbed Dipper’s offered hand.


The word echoed and resonated through Dipper’s body and soul until the blue flame that enveloped their clasped hands swallowed them.

The deal was done.

Just got home and cuddled my cat.

I teared up when the plane lifted off and a flight attendant gave me a box of tissue. That was embarrassing haha. I miss you all and Seattle already. The flight was 14 hours but 30 hours had passed because of the time zone difference. I’m a time traveler! Work are waiting for me so I will update with more stuff later. Thank you for this amazing experience, especially Mimi who invited me to Sherlock Seattle!

The Wedding: Part 3

Summary: Dean and Sam are trying to reach the reader at the airport before her flight takes off for Florida.

Warnings:  fluff, language, Original Character, violence? Idk… Reader beware

Pairings: Dean x reader, Reader x OC Max, Sam

Word Count: 2511

NOTE:  I am new to Fanfic. I would LOVE some reviews/critiques, etc! Follow me as I continue this story! Thank you!!! S/N =Sisters Name!

The airport speaker mumbled some Homeland Security Advisory message for the 40th time since you’ve been there. You arrived at your gate way too early. Your flight number wasn’t even on the gate sign yet. It was still showing a flight to Sacramento leaving at 7:30. You couldn’t help but to fidget in your seat. You had so many emotions running through you that you just wanted to sleep but you still had a lot of traveling to do. You picked up your phone and started browsing through Facebook. A lot of your old friends are posting on your sister’s wall about the wedding and you start skimming through some of the comments. All these people from your past, judging you because your little sister was married first. 

S/N was always the pretty one. She was feminine. She was graceful. She didn’t have the overwhelming interest in weaponry that you did. She was the cheerleader. Everyone loved her and she treated everyone like they were her best friends because she was genuinely nice. She was basically your polar opposite. She liked expensive things. Her wedding was expected to have 500 people. It was at the most expensive manor home in Florida. It was a 1,000 acre property that had a 15 bedroom mansion, 12 floral gardens, a plaza size fountain, 10 guest cottages (that were tucked away inside some of the gardens), and those were just the things your sister could get out in one breath whilst describing the place. 

You hadn’t told Sam and Dean about many details of your family. Like the fact that your dad was a slightly famous actor. Or that you mom was a swimsuit model at 18. Or that you didn’t fit in with one person in the entirety of your family except for your sister. S/N was marrying a man named Tom. He was a doctor or a surgeon, or something medical. You couldn’t ever remember. He was a nice enough guy. Your sister seemed happy and you weren’t one to spoil that, but this wedding was extravagant. Dean had to help you hustle pool just to pay for your $3,000 bridesmaid dress. You used fake credit cards to buy shoes, jewelry, and a clutch to match. Hunting was a rewarding career, just not in a fiscal sense. 

Your father had rented the whole estate for the entire weekend. You, Dean, Sam, and Sam’s (imaginary) date would share one of the beautiful garden cabins. You had spent hours looking at them online imagining how romantic the setting would be to be with Dean. The thought frustrated you, tossing your phone down on the seat next to you. Lifting your head up and looking around you noticed your flight is boarding. How long did I just Facebook stalk people for? You think quietly to yourself. 

You grab your phone and turn it off, throw it in your bag, give the attendant your ticket, and take your seat.

[Flash to boys in the Impala]

“It says that her flight is boarding, Dean. We aren’t gonna make it there.”

“Do you have the wedding location’s address?” Dean asks sharply.

“No, dude. Y/N had all that stuff with her. This is what happens when we don’t have a plan.” Sam huffs. “We have to go to the bunker. I don’t have my suit. Or my bathing suit. Or my flip flops.” 

“Flip flops? No. The bunker is 3 hours in the opposite direction, Sam. I’ll buy you anything you need when we get there.”

“Y/N is gonna be pissed that you didn’t wear the suit she picked out for you. She bragged about that thing for days.”

“Look under the backseat.” Dean had stashed the suit you picked out for him under the seat as if he knew he’d crack. “Always be prepared, Samuel.” He pressed the pedal down a little harder and Baby’s engines let out a little roar, picking up speed toward the Sunshine State. Dean couldn’t help but to glance up in the sky every time he saw a plane and wonder if it was yours. His heart sank thinking of how much fun you, him, and Sam could’ve had on this road trip. 

Now, instead of stopping at stupid roadside attractions, he and Sam were making 2 minute pit stops, stopping just long enough to gas up, pee, and switch seats. He was a man on a mission.

[Flash to Reader landing at Tampa International Airport (outside of Saint Pete)]

It was a very uneventful flight. Besides the obnoxiously loud talker behind, who refused to let anyone on the place sleep, it was an easy flight. You were exhausted. You slugged down to baggage claim and pulled your heavy bag off the carousel. Your sister had a driver pick you up because everyone was already checking into the estate and there was welcome get-together happening. You walked down to pick up and see the short balding man holding Y/N L/N sign. You followed him outside into the warm air to a shining black luxury car. He opened the back door for you and took your luggage. He called you ma’am every time he did something for you and you had him to quit because it made you feel old. My mother is a ma’am, damnit. You pressed your head onto the glass and tried to relax. “The boys!” you thought to yourself. You hadn’t even checked in with Sam. You tried turning on your phone but the battery must’ve been dead. You’d charge it in your cottage, settling back into the window. Your driver finally reached your destination, a beautiful (and gigantic) plantation home. 

You rolled your eyes at the formality of this event. This was definitely not your scene and you kind of glad that the boys wouldn’t be there to see how gaudy it all was. They weren’t black tie affair kind of guys. I mean, they were classy enough to be there, they were just down to earth, easy going guys. They didn’t need tuxedos and champagne to be interesting. In fact, some you all best nights were in PJ’s with some beers watching old movies. 

An event coordinator led you to your cottage. It was amazing. It looked like it was from a fairytale. It has yellow siding and a white wooden roof. They are flower boxes under all the windows that look out to the lush gardens surrounding it. You open the front door and roll your bag inside. You take a deep breath as you spot the open door with a bed behind it. You kicked off your boots and pants, slid your bra off from underneath your sweatshirt and collapsed on the bed. You fell asleep almost immediately.

[Back to the Impala]

Dean’s eye shot open. It was light out. “What time is it?” His voice slightly more hoarse than normal after sleep. 

Sam clicked on his phone “it’s 8:37.” 

“Any word from Y/N yet?”

“Not yet. I’ve called her like 8 times I think. Her phone is off. She must be pretty pissed. I Facebooked her sister and she said she made it there late last night and she’d have her call me when she got up. So, any time now probably.” Sam was concerned when he didn’t hear from you. He didn’t want Dean to worry so he went to your sister to check on you. “I’m wrecked Dean. Let’s switch.”

The boys pull over at the next gas station and Sam comes back to the car with this face buried in a newspaper. “There have been 5 strange deaths here in the past 2 weeks. A lady hanged herself in a closet that locked from the outside. A couple were chained up and found dead in their own basement. Two college kids were found with their throats cut on the side of a highway after posting they picked up a hitchhiker on the highway… And another man killed himself with a chainsaw. What in the hell are we dealing with here?”

“Damn it, Sam. We can’t work a case. I need to do this before it’s too late.”

“It’ll be a milk run. I’m thinking demon. The police station just around the corner from here. It couldn’t hurt to ask questions, could it?”

Dean begrudgingly agreed, slamming the pedal to floor of Impala burning out toward the police station and away from you. 

Dean awoke again, this time his vision is blurry and his head is pounding. Where was Sam? He thought. “Sammy?” He yelled.

The last thing he remembered was checking an old cabin on the outskirts of town. He kicked open the door, gun drawn, Sam followed in quickly behind him. The door slammed shut on its own and Dean was flung across the room into wall head first. 

Sam’s gun laid on the floor close to Dean. “Sammy?” He yelled again, starting to panic. He grabbed both guns and started slamming open every door he saw until he reached one that was locked. “Sam, are you in there?” 

Dean stepped back and shot the door handle breaking it off. In the middle of the room sat Sam, passed out with head slumped down to his chest, tied to a chair. “Sam, Sam” He smacks his face “Listen to me. Wake up, Sam.” Sam’s eye slightly cracked open and he whispered “Dean?”

Dean pulled out his knife and cut Sam free. “What are we dealing with?” He asks.

“Ugh. I’m not sure. He had demon eyes but he also had…. Vamp teeth.”

“Ah, a… dempire? No, a vamon? Dempire is better. Anyway, how do we gank this dick?” Dean helped his brother off the floor and handed him his gun. 

“I think I have a plan.” Sam looked a Dean with his forehead wrinkled in thought.

After setting up the devil’s trap, position weaponry around the room, and finding a hiding spot for himself, Dean loosely ties Sam back to the chair and retreats to the small linen closet in the attached bathroom. The next part was the hard part: waiting for it to come back.

Dean’s head was bobbing from exhaustion. According to his phone it had been 12 hours. It was dark out. He whispers out to Sam “Sam. We gotta get out of here. It ain’t coming back.”

“Oh, how wrong you are sweetheart.” A female voices taunts. Dean rushed out of the closet to see a dark hair woman with a knife to Sammy’s neck. Dean gives Sam the go ahead and he broke free of the rope, disarming the woman, and left the circle they wrote on the ceiling. 

“Ok. Now you listen to me. I have a very important thing to get to and I lost my patience for you about 11 hours ago in that closet. So, you’re going to tell me exactly how many more of you there are and where I can find them.” Dean demands.

“Like, I’m going to tell you where my family is. So you can go kill all of them? I can’t tell if you are crazier or dumber than you look.” She sasses back. “She lunges toward Dean but gets pulled back by the Devil’s trap. She looks up and growls in frustration. “Let me out of here. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. We are –“ Dean steps into the trap and cuts her head off mid-sentence. 

Sam looks frustrated and Dean explains “I told her he was losing my patience”. The boys turned to leave, deciding to stop back here on the way home with you.

“Check in on Y/N again. I don’t like that we haven’t heard from her.”  Dean’s face looks disheartened. He knew how bad he fucked up this time.

[Back to you in the Cottage]

You snapped your eyes open. You had literally fell onto the bed face first and passed out. What time is it? Why didn’t I charge my phone?Wait…. Where am I? Your mind was racing. It had been a long time that you’d woken up alone in strange place. Usually Dean’s snoring or Sam clanging around at 5am before a jogs, woke you up in the motel rooms. Even at the bunker someone would knock on your door at some ungodly hour to ask you a question or to rush you to get ready for a hunt. 

You dug through your bag and plugged your phone in but still don’t turn it on. It charges faster that way. You shuffled your feet into the kitchen and opened the fridge. This cottage was incredible. It was literally a small two bedroom apartment surrounded by a breathtaking garden. The fridge was stocked with fresh vegetables, juices, sodas, waters, and your favorite beer. You grabbed a can of beer, as you noticed it was 3pm, and what the hell, you were on vacation. You caught a glimpse of small bar cart across the room with two glass tumblers and a decanter filled with what you were sure was an excellent whiskey. Your heart sunk again. You could’ve been sitting on that leather couch with your legs across Dean’s lap, sipping whiskey, and making out. 

A loud knocking on the door snapped you back into reality and you opened the door only slightly (you weren’t wearing pants) to a handsome man you’d never seen before. “Hello, Y/N. I’m Max, Tom’s friend, I’m the best man and since you’re the maid of honor, I figured we should get together about the bachelor/bacherlorette party tonight. Can I come in?”

“Yeah. Sure. Um, just give me one minute.” You softly closed the door and ran to the bedroom. You grabbed the pants from yesterday that were still balled up on the floor and jump-squeeze back into them. You rushed back towards the door but catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror hanging in the hall and decided that Max could wait another minute for you to fix your face. You had mascara raccooning around your eyes and your hair was out of control. You got yourself together and invited him in.

“Sorry, I had a late, late flight last night.” You said as your kicked your bra under the couch. Luckily you had a sweatshirt on or you would’ve needed that thing. 

“Starting early, I see?” Max jokes as he spots the beer can on the side table. His blue eyes sparkled below a gorgeous head of perfectly styled raven hair. You realize your staring at his rigid jawbone and forgot how to put together a logical sentence. “…Yeah… I can explain—“ 

“No need. Mind if I bum one?” He walked casually over to your fridge and pulled out a beer. He popped the top and took a sip, letting out a refreshed “Ahhh.”
He turned you, giving you a small smile. “So let’s talk about this party tonight, beautiful.”

You heart sped up at that word: beautiful. It sounded so sexual coming out of his mouth. You realized you were in trouble. Wait, who were the Winchester’s again?


khaleesikate88  asked:

I just started watching season 9 of red vs blue again and I just realized how much I enjoy the freelancer pilot. You or somebody should write something about her interacting with any of the freelancers.

[AO3 | FFN]

Look, sometimes you’re just a glorified cab driver, trying to catch up on your reading between fares. Sometimes you’re dropping into a hot zone, trying not to get exploded into tiny pieces. There’s not a lot in between.

Early in the Project, Pilot 479er swoops in to save the day.

“Sixteen chapters,” she mutters over the warning klaxons, reaching a hand out to stab a finger blindly at some of the flashing lights on her control panel. “Sixteen fuckin’ chapters I’m slogging through, I just get to the good part, and these assholes decide they need extraction now?”

"Are you addressing me?” FILSS says.

She snorts, twisting in her seat to deactivate the alarms. “Sure, why not? FILSS, log my frustration and disappointment at being unable to find out whodunit until after this mission. Which I might very well die in, actually. Huh.” The final alarm finishes sounding around the time she’s plotted her approach vector, and she breathes easy in the new stillness. “FILSS, if I die, log my eternal irritation and determination to come back as a ghost to haunt this terminal and read the rest of the book.”

“Logged,” FILSS says, blandly.

Keep reading
Oasis The Masterplan Knebworth 1996

                                           First Dance 

Their apartment was small and dingy, Rae called it cosy and full of character. Neither Rae nor Finn were concerned with keeping up with the Joneses, a bed and record player was all they needed. Their neighbours were a bit dodgy but they never complained about the noise, the music of course. 

Finn trudged up the four flights of stairs , the lift still stuck on the second floor since they moved in. It had now become the much disputed territory of some rather frightening feral cats. Despite Finn’s athletic build the four flights of steep stairs always had him puffing after hard day’s work, today Finn could hear the loud booming of Rae’s music. Giving the door the secret handshake with the key that meant the lock kindly popped open Finn was greeted by the roar and cheering of a crowd reverberating off the walls. Finn smiled Rae was playing the bootleg copy of the Knebworth gig Finn had managed to track down for their first anniversary. Finn leaned against the door jab of the kitchen with folded arms and watched Rae sway. 

Rae had had a good day at work, submitted the final draft of her book to her agent and received a cheque for her freelance work. Rae sat on the floor surrounded by the crates of records. Rae had never realized that Finn was bit of an organisational freak. His first port of call when he moved in was to alphabetise the records, even labeling the crates with letters. Rae pulled O-R towards her, flicking through them quickly she found what she was looking for. A record covered with wallpaper with hide the original cover, written across the record in familiar scrawl was Knebworth 1996. Slipping the record from the inner sleeve and gingerly placed it on the player. Turning it over to read the note on the sleeve, a note she had memorised years ago. 

May, It really was crap without you. Now, we can enjoy it from the comfort of my bed. Love Finn xx

Finn watched Rae wave her arms in the air tangling her fingers through her hair, hips swaying as Noel Gallagher sang to her to dance. Swiveling her hips and bouncing lightly on the balls of her, Finn pushed off the door and wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face into the crook of her neck as she continued to sway. ‘Afternoon, girl’ he mumbled as he kissed her soft skin.Rae stepped back taking his hands in hers.

Smiling at him 'Dance with me, Finn' They danced and jumped their laughter mingling with the music and filling the air as Rae twirled under Finn’s out stretched arm until she was dizzy. The last few bars of the song rang out, Finn pulled Rae into his chest, hips colliding and foreheads touching.

'Can this be our first dance?’ he whispered. Rae scrunched up her face Finn continued 'well Chop has dips on Champagne Supernova, lets hope he’s not singing it. Wonderwall it’s a bit well obvious innit?' 

'Wedding first dance?’ Rae asked Finn nodded 'Well, I thought about Spaceman first but then I imagined you storming off the dance floor’

'Too true Nelson! I’ve never thought about our first dance. Isn’t this a bit fast. Other people mightn’t like it’

'If you don’t like it you can say no’

'I love it but what about other people they might..’

'Fuck other people, Rae it’s our first dance and we like it’. Rae kissed his cheek and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

'Wait, is this you proposing to me?’

'Girl , when I propose you’ll know it' 

Cancun had been one of the best experiences’ in her life, Gabriella had to admit. Getting away from her roommate was her original plan, but her paid trip to Cancun with her friends – the only thing her parents were willing to give her the whole years, and only because she was turning twenty-one – was a bonus. Her relationship with Christian was strained for months, and since their horrible breakup and the lack of space to heal, she felt as if it was only normal for her to spend a week away. Gabriella was sure that after a breakup both parts should have the space to mourn what was once there, but when you are sharing an apartment with your ex and in college, there isn’t much space when it comes to that – they were lucky they even had two rooms. 

The only thing that saddened her was the thought of going back. The reality wasn’t as great she expected it to be back in high school, when going to college with who she thought was the love of her life, was just as great as winning the lottery. Their apartment was on the fifth floor and thanks to the lift, she didn’t have to carry her bags up all those flights of stairs. By the door, when she had to say goodbye to Logan and her friends, she felt like her heart was going to jump out of her chest – almost as if she was five again, desperately wanting to go back to her mother`s arms. It wasn`t normal to feel so anxious about going back. Gabriella stepped out of the elevator, carrying her two bags and heard the loud noises coming from what was supposed to be home instantly. Of course Christian had to throw another party, after all, it was Saturday night and he was famous for them. She opened the door, leaving her bags outside, knowing that they would be safer there than inside, and searched for Chris. When she found him, her cheeks were flushed and she had to push three guys off her. “Seriously, Christian? I told you I was coming back today! You couldn’t just keep these people away?"