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thebellekeys · 4 years ago

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Reflections: The way Grace brings out the worst in James (Necessary incongruity in characterization)

This is just something that came to mind, but James’ characterization used to seem so strange to me sometimes until it finally, like, hit me why that was. (N.B. I’m stupid and this entire point just occurred to me recently okay so don’t pop in my replies telling me everyone already knows this, let me be Captain Obvious.)

The first time we properly met James was in The Midnight Heir, back in 2014 if I’m not mistaken, and DEAR GOD ABOVE, I remember thinking this is the angstiest and darkest Shadowhunter boy yet. No really, TDA then happened and literally nothing Julian ever did topped The Midnight Heir for me in terms of “wow, I’m kinda terrified for this boy”.

Like, I was just so shocked at how James was characterized in that short story. In a single story he: shot at the ceiling with a gun, got mad drunk in public, disrespected Magnus, embraced ducks, disrespected Jem, almost let himself DROWN for God’s sake.

“He was nothing but a shadow among shadows again. He was an infuriating Cheshire cat of a boy, nothing left of him but the impression of his smile. “My father was cursed,” James said from the darkness. “Whereas I? I’m damned.”

THIS WAS SO WILD MAN? Like this shit is so darksided right!?!?

He seems so unhappy and bitter and it’s all so dramatic? Like not even young Will was like this cus Will always covered up his pain with jokes and doting over Jem but Jamie was just... yooo, shit was scary to me okay. Then, in Nothing but Shadows, Cast Long Shadows and Every Exquisite Thing we got the *real* Jamie, right? He was just a cute socially awkward bookworm with a good heart and not sure how to fit into society and NONE of that darkness was to be seen in those stories. Sure, he was closed-off and secretive if anything but that’s really it, nothing like what we saw in TMH.

Theeeeeen Chain of Gold happened and he was just such a sweet, dashing, handsome, literary bean (🥺)??? And I was still left wondering like why was he depicted like that in The Midnight Heir cus he definitely didn’t act out like that any time in Gold. I did not for one second see that rage in him. Like we’ve been reminded by Matthew and James himself that he has a rage yet I felt, even up until reading Gold, that I had not seen that rage and bitterness since The Midnight Heir.

However, the ending of Iron definitely clears things up for me: it’s the Grace Effect.

“You have not just made me think that I loved you, you have subsumed my will over and over until I no longer know who I am. Do you even understand what it is that you’ve done?”

“No,” James snapped. “Enough. Not another word out of you. You came here tonight thinking I was still under the spell’s power—that I would hide you from your mother because I was your duped, doting fool. You had no intention of telling me the truth—”.

“Bitterness made it hurt to speak. “I would throw you onto the street,” said James, “but this power of yours is no better than a loaded gun in the hands of a selfish child. You cannot be allowed to continue to use it. You do know that?”

From a literary standpoint, this seems to be an allusion to that moment where Pip tells off Estella for not having a heart and for being an asshole to him. Like you’re left wondering where on earth did the little pushover orphan boy go?

Within the novels so far this has got to be the harshest I’ve ever heard Jamie speak (Grace deserves it btw). Like he’s on the verge of snapping “stfu and listen to me: you have manipulated and gaslit me and if it were up to me and not for my stupid honor I’d cast you and your pathetic self out into the cold”. (Ugh he’s such a badass).

Granted, he was not drunk and is much more mature than he was in the Bane Chronicles BUT his words here are so loaded. He learned that Grace was duping him the whole time and then BOOM this man was about to throw her into the street like he was MAD mad at the whole situation PLEASE. And then it really hit me that only Grace can hurt him like this and bring out this very facet of his character that we very rarely see, yet, was used for us to be introduced to him? His rage. From a technical standpoint, only Grace can bring out this side of him, and in a way, she’s a narrative tool used to fuel his characterization.

The first time Jamie acted out in TMH, he had gotten that letter from Grace saying she was suddenly gonna break off their love (🤢) and then he shows the worst part of himself. Now, Grace shows up at his doorstep and he learns about the enchantment and he uses the most fiery language I’ve ever seen him use, jarring in contrast to his typically attractive composure. Thus, the discrepancy between that original means of characterizing him as rebellious and bitter is like, solved, in the grander scheme of the situation given where Grace falls into his narrative arc as a person. Furthermore, it gives us a really nice contast between Will and his father. Everyone lowkey thought in 2014 that Jamie would be like Will or Jace cus Herondale right yet showing this dichotomy between Will and James’ darkness is so effective. Will’s darkness, his “curse”, was a secret he hept hidden from the world. Jamie’s darkness, his “damnation”, is a secret he himself was (mostly) not privy to. He’s not his full self when Grace is in the picture so we get that wrath and lack of control in some form or fashion which is so cool from an analytical perspective? It shows Cassie like really planned this shit out to the tee so many years in advance and it actually wasn’t true incongruity in his characterization at all.

#my degree is making me read things critically sometimes and I hate it #all of this just to say that I actually still love Grace #the last hours #tlh #the shadowhuter chronicles #tsc #chain of iron #chain of gold #james herondale #jamie herondale #heronstairs #jordelia #grace blackthorn #cassie clare #cassandra clare #ya books #books #book lover #chain of thorns

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keelywolfe · 5 years ago

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FIC: Drinking Buddies (standalone)

Summary: Stretch and Edge get along great from the very start.

Tags: Pre-spicyhoney, Enemies to Lovers, Arguments, Underswap isn’t as kind as Edge likes to think.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge resisted the urge to slam the door behind him as he stepped out into the icy cool of Underswap’s Snowdin. He took a deep breath, held it, counting slowly as he let it back out. A breathing technique he’d learned from a soggy magazine found at the dump that he’d studied diligently despite his brother’s mocking.

It worked, a little. His temper, once on the verge of boiling over, settled down to a low simmer. Not at all how he’d wanted to spend his evening. Visits to the other universes were supposed to be a way for him to leave behind the stresses of his own world and instead, tonight it only doubled it, trebled.

Stretch had been in a bad mood from the moment he and Red arrived. The very first words out of his mouth, “nice of you to show up, edgelord, how long did it take you to shake the dust out of that pretty scarf of yours?”

They only got worse as the night went on. Those little insults of his dug in deeper than they should, his petty cruelties usually disguised as idle observations twisting into Edge’s restless soul until the iron control he usually had over his frustrations rusted over and snapped. He’d grabbed Stretch by the front of his sweatshirt, hauling him up from the sofa despite the startled cries of others.

Stretch only smirked, hanging in his grip as he said, softly, “you wanna hit me? go ahead. just remember, you can only do it once.”

That lazy reminder cooled his temper like breaking through ice into the river. One HP, the same as his own brother and Edge allowed Blue to pry his brother free, scolding them both and it was the faint note beneath those words, like a barely stifled sob, that sent Edge outside into the snow.

The artificial light of day was gone, the town cast mostly in darkness except for the Gyftmas lights scattered about. There was a ‘Librarby’ the same as in Underfell and Muffet’s nearby, the brightly lit sign blinking. It was difficult to distinguish how the 'swap' part of Underswap actually worked.

Not that the Monsters who lived here called it that. The term was coined by Papyrus, and at first glance, it seemed accurate enough. Stretch seemed very much like his brother and Red, and Blue similar to Papyrus and himself. Their enthusiasm for being in the guard and cooking, their cheery personalities and distaste for bad puns, while Stretch matching up with his counterparts in laziness and sarcasm.

But the resemblance only seemed surface deep. For one, even his brother usually knew when to shut his mouth, a lesson Stretch certainly never seemed to have learned.

Muffet's was the analog for Grillby's in this world and much as Edge hated coming into any contact with greasy food and equally so company, he needed a drink. If nothing else, it was certain to be safer than his own Grillby's.

Or so he thought and there lay an important lesson his brother taught him from the moment he could summon the smallest bone attack. Assume nothing.

At a glance, the bar was similar. Cleaner, perhaps, less of the furniture broken in LV-fueled disputes. The jukebox was darkened and silent, the patrons less so, snatches of conversation in the air to mingle with the clink of glasses against tabletops.

Behind the counter was Swap's version of Muffet. Intriguing differences, really. His Muffet dressed in frills and lace, paying no mind to the splatters of blood and dust at the hem of her skirts, dappling her ankle socks and slippers. When she dropped the charming illusion of her smile, her true, ravenous nature showed, her maw opened wide to greedily suck the essence of any Monster caught in her webs. He’d seen it once, in a grainy video that his brother ‘liberated’ from Alphys’s storage. At the very end she’d paused, swinging around to look directly at the camera and through the snow of static, the visible madness in her many dark eyes was enough to convince Edge to stay well out of Hotland.

This Muffet only nodded at him politely, her many eyes reflecting the overhead lights. She was nattily dressed in shirtsleeves and a tie, her wiry hair done up in a pair of simple pigtails, and her smile held no horrors, only the raspy offering, "Drink?"

"Do you have tabasco?" Edge asked without much hope.

She only nodded, pouring out a tall glass and topping it with what he hoped was vodka. A celery stalk completed the drink and she pushed it over to him. A wary sip sent a burst of faintly bitter heat deliciously across his tongue, better than any swill he’d had in Underfell.

Absently, he pushed a G coin back across at her and the rumble of conversation around him dwindled to silence. She stared at it as though it might grow fangs and snap at her many fingers.

"My apologies," Edge offered guardedly, "Is that not enough?"

Two stools away, a Monster leaned towards him, their scaly skin and yellowed eyes reminiscent of Undyne and their words were a slurred, whether from drink or a natural inclination, Edge could not say. "Nah, Muffet says its good. Everyone's jus' surprised to see you paying. Usually everything from youse guys goes on Papyrus's tab."

"Of course," Edge muttered. His own brother would delight in racking up drinks on someone else’s tab for a change. "I'd prefer to pay my own way."

Muffet nodded and picked up the coin, dropping it into her vest pocket.

He was most of the way through his drink, the winding tension in his soul slowly loosening, when from behind him came the invasive prickling touch of a Check, followed by, “Huh, look what we have here."

Edge tipped his skull back, draining the last of the tabasco and vodka from his glass before turning around. Three Monsters, their long ears and furry scowling faced placing them firmly in the Bun clan. In his world the Buns were plentiful but meek, often depending on the Snowdin guard to protect them and their homes from those who would hunt them down.

Here in this swapped world, they were flipped around, turned on their end. Tall enough to loom over Edge, their noses the pale white of a fishbelly instead of wriggling pink, their eyes bloodshot and sunken. The tallest leaned in, a sneer fracturing his wide face.

"Nice outfit,” they said. Alcohol was strong on their breath, sharp and foul, “You come in here to raise some dust, LV collector?"

Edge only looked at them coolly. "You act as if any of you would be worth it."

Raucous laughter came from them all, unpleasant and humorless. The tall one spoke again, scornfully, "Trash knows trash, is that it?"

"You don’t know anything about me." It wasn’t likely that Muffet was going to allow fighting in her establishment; in his own world, Grillby would have interceded almost immediately before he could lose any more furniture. True as that may be, Edge wasn’t about to rely on an unknown Monster to have his back and discreetly, he began summoning an attack meant to incapacitate. LV he might have, but he wasn’t—

"I know enough, killer!" The Bun raised a hand, their curled fingers forming a fist nearly the size of Edge’s skull and swinging directly at it.

Before that hand could connect or Edge could deflect it, it stopped entirely, the Bun standing frozen, his soul pulsing an eerie blue.

"hey, guys,” Nearer to the door, a familiar, lazy drawl, “think it’s time to back off.”

The other Buns moved in near unison, turning towards the door and parting enough for Edge to see Stretch standing just inside it. He was lighting a cigarette, a bony hand cupped around the flame.

“Really?” From the second Bun, shorter and thinner, and no less drunk for it. “You gonna stand up for the murderer, Papyrus? Gonna let him kill us all?”

Stretch only chuckled out a smoke-filled breath and tucked his lighter into his pocket. “nah, you know better than that, bunno. we go way back, don’t we?”

“Yeah,” the bun agreed, “yeah, we do.”

“yeaaaaaah,” Stretch drew out the word, slyly, rocking back on his slippered feet. “maybe you don't know me as good as you think. see, problem is, the thing you don’t seem to get—"

Stretch tapped a cylinder of ash on the floor and stuck the cigarette between his teeth, then raised his hand, slim fingers haloed in light. Four blasters rose over his shoulders, their eye lights feral-bright, maws open with the burning threat glowing in their throats. Stretch’s smirk widened, fingers twitching, "he’s not the one you need to worry about, now is he?"

The two Buns were scrambling for the door before Stretch even finished speaking, each struggling to be the first through it. The last taller Bun stood stiffly as Stretch waved his hand carelessly, the blasters dissolving away at the same moment the counter on the blue magic faded.

“now go home,” Stretch said, lightly, “i don’t really wanna make puns about dust bunnies.” One corner of Stretch’s mouth rose, a lopsided smirk. “dust punnies. heh. okay, just that one.”

The tall Bun opened his mouth, hesitated and visibly re-thought whatever he meant to say, then turned on his heel to follow his companions out.

“guess that was a little too hare-raising for ‘em.” Stretch plopped down on the stool next to Edge’s. The moment he did, Muffet plunked a glass ashtray pointedly in front of him and he grimaced, tapping his cigarette in it. “sorry, muff.”

The apology seemed to mollify her, weak as it was, and she set a shot glass in front of him, the contents a rich golden-brown.

Edge waited until Stretch knocked it back, sockets closed as he savored it. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“yeah, i know,” Stretch said. One socket slit open, the pale eye light focused on Edge, glittering with dark amusement. “but i got dibs on being a dick to you.”

Edge couldn’t stop his mouth from twitching in a slight smile. It wasn’t quite an apology, not unless one squinted and turned it on its side. But then, that sort of thing suited Underswap. “So you do.”

“Another drink?” Muffet rasped out.

“yeah, sure,” Stretch pushed the empty shot glass towards her. “keep ‘em coming.”

“Yes,” Edge agreed, softly. He held out his own glass and added, “Put it on his tab.”

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #standalone

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atticus-grae · 5 years ago

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Supernatural

a fan fiction pt.8

Dean’s pov.

Sam and Jordan wouldn’t be home for about three days. Awfully long time for a ghost hunt, but I wasn’t going to complain. Cas and I were in the awkward stage in being a new couple. We weren’t sure yet. Perhaps awkward wasn’t the word. Shy, yeah, as stupid as that is. I was never this shy with women, but I have heard that dating different genders is a different experience. Plus, this was my best friend. Who knew less than I did about this.

It was a lot of rambling and checking our reflections when we thought the other wasn’t looking. Sneaky hand holding and small kisses here and there. I would go to sleep on his chest on the couch, and I would woke up next to him in my room. He would be sitting on the edge of the bed. We were still in a shy phase. after all, as gross as that sounds. We were like kids. Still figuring this out. Right now it was stealing a kiss every now and then, hugs, and just enjoying making each other blush. That seemed to be our favorite game. Cas took that to a new extreme. It was an odd place to be in, but we were happy. If we never got out of this shy phase, that would be okay with me. As long as he was with me.

One night we decided to talk about where this is gong to go. We were dating, that was obvious, but when should the rest of the world know? It would be a shock that I am bisexual. Do I just want to hit Sam with that all at once?

We walked into the lobby of the bunker and tried to figure out when to tell Sam. “Do you think that is a good idea Dean?” Cas asked. “Are you ready?” he asked. He looked down at his feet. This is new for us, and I understood that, but I didn’t want him to think I was ashamed of him. If he wanted, I’d scream it from the roof tops that I love him.

“I’m not ashamed of you, Cas. That isn’t why I never told you,” I said. “I know that Dean, but wouldn’t it be a little cruel for us to flaunt, and Sam just find out that Eileen doesn't love him?” he asked. “Oh so we’re flaunting now?” I said as he blushed a little. I could get used to this. “Shut up Dean, you know what I meant,” he said as he came in close and gave me a small kiss. I blushed a little. “Dean?” he said. “Yeah?” I said, our fore heads touching. “You’re blushing.” “Fuck you,” I said, pushing him a little

“Not in front of me please,” Jack said. “Jack!” He surprised us. “What’s up kid?” I said. “I wanted to visit. Where is Sam and your pretty friend?” he asked. “I think that they are sad, she prays a lot,” he said.

“Are they in trouble?” Dean asked. “No, but I thought they would be here by now?” Jack said. “Dean?” Jordan said. “Cas? Are you decent?” she called running down the stairs. “Dude, her sisters are awesome!” Sam said. walking in. “Iron knuckles to punch ghosts? Who would have thought of that?’ Sam said. “People with common sense?” Jordan said, rolling her eyes. “Hey,” she said, giving a sweet smile to Jack.

“Hello Jordan, hello Sam,” he said. “What do we owe the pleasure?” Sam asked. “Yeah what brings God himself at our door?” “I wanted to see you guys. Have fun without having to worry about Gabriel or Micheal or Lucifer,” he said. “Because we don’t have to anymore,” he said.

“So Lucifer and Micheal they are still dead?” Sam asked. “Oh no, but I have it taken care of. Micheal and Adam wanted to be together, so I gave Micheal a body,” he said. I looked at him concerned. “Oh don’t worry, he was already dead.” “Thank you Jack, that is what we were worried about. What about Lucifer?” I said. “Oh! He has agreed to not be too bad,” Jack said with a proud smile.

“Not to be too bad?” I said. “Lucifer agreed not to be too bad and you said what? ‘Okay sounds good’?” I said. “Dean, don’t be mean,” Cas said. “I’m sorry, Lucifer? As in the Devil? The og fallen angel?” Jordan said in disbelief. “And that’s just no biggie?” “You get used to it,” Sam said, she gave him a side eyed look, but shrugged and said, “Okay.”

“Okay?” I said. “Two seconds ago you were on the verge of a freak out, but now you’re just, okay?” I asked her. “He’s a fucking angel. He fucked a demon,” she said pointing at Sam. “My ex boyfriend is currently possessed by an angel. Just yesterday I was performing surgery to remove flowers from people’s lungs because their crush didn’t like them back,” she said. “How did you know how to do that, by the way?” asked Cas. “Yeah, why were you and Damon the only ones who knew how to perform the surgery?” I asked.

She cocked her eyebrows and said, “I like to read BL on occasion. I happen to have read one about the disease,” she said then shrugged. “It worked,” she said as Sam looked at her with shock. “You performed a risky surgery with no idea if it would actually work?” he said. “Fuck off, it worked,” she said,

“Can we do something together?” Jack said. “Being God is boring a lot of time. I would like to have fun,” he said. “Like a movie?” Cas asked. “Movies are a great time,” said Jordan. “I thought we were going to hang out with your sisters later tonight?” Sam said. “Dude, I get that my sisters are hot, but they aren’t that great,” said Jordan. “Where were you two going to go?” Dean asked. “It’s a bar that usually has professional musicians, but tonight is amateur night,” Jordan said.

“So drunk people who don’t know what they are doing embarrass themselves?” I said. Cas looked at me. “What asshole?” I asked impulsively, the intensity of his stare throwing me off.

“Jack what do you want to do?” he asked Jack. “I want to meet her sisters and have a good time. Then a movie,” he said. “Great!” said Sam. “Dean get your leggings on so we don’t have to pay for drinks!” Sam said, walking to his room. Jordan went in the same direction. “I’ll wait until you and Jordan get done braiding each other’s hair!” I called as she flipped me off and walked backwards. “Dean can I borrow your room to change?” she asked.

“Yeah just don’t make a mess!” I said. “How in Hell would I make a mess?” she said, disappearing behind my door. Leaving Cas and I alone with Jack. “When did you two start kissing?” Jack said. “Shhh!” Cas said. “We haven’t told anyone yet,” he said. “Is it a secret?” Jack asked. “No,” I said, standing a little too close to Cas on purpose. I wasn’t sure what that proved, but it made Cas smile.

“Okay? So when do you two plan to tell them?” Jack asked. “At a better time,” Dean said. Jack looked confused. “Why is now not a good time? Is it because Eileen doesn’t love Sam anymore?” Jack asked. “Really guys?” Sam said, he looked hurt and tired. “How do you know about that?” Sam asked Jack. “I’m God?” he said confused.

Sam sighed and said, “Why are you three talking about me and Eileen anyways?” Just then, as if Jack had willed it himself, Jordan came in half singing, half screaming, “Shot through the heart and your to blame! You give love a bad name!” Her phone’s speakers desperately tried to match her volume and enthusiasm, but failed. “Why do you all look so mad?” she said as she slipped on a shoe. “I thought we were going out to have fun?” she said. “Why so glum chums?” she asked in a fake British accent.

Sam tried to glare at her, but she poked him in the side. “C’mon Sammy boy, this was your idea.” He smiled despite himself. Sam may still love Eileen but maybe him having some sort of relationship with Jordan will help? She seems to work wonders. She had a way with people that I didn’t quite get. Maybe it’s because instead of dealing with her issues, she projects all her energy into helping others. I hate to admit that I have benefited from that. It makes her feel better, so I guess it’s not that big of an issue.

She looked at us all. “Well are we just going to stand around or are we going to go laugh at some poor drunk souls? C’mon the baby wants some fun,” she said, wrapping her arms around Jack as he smiled.

She had three personalities. Dr. Blake, cold and annoyed. Jordan, my friend, willing to do anything to help me. And this version, the one who just wants to be happy. I wondered which version her sisters knew. Or if they had a whole other version they kept to themselves?

Either way, Jordan Blake was a welcome, if not sudden friend. She was a bit of a mystery, but we all have a past. Now was a time to look towards the future.

The future where I watch as drunk girls sing off key to “I Want it That Way”. Cas was confused, but amused as Jack danced badly with Jordan. She motioned for Cas and me to join their merry band of idiots, but I declined and descreetly held Cas’ hand under a table.

Sam joined the two of them until they heard, “Jordan! Sam! You two came!” It was Jordan’s older sister, Elise, I think that’s her name. She was wearing a short, tight-fitting dress. It was cheata print and her hair was wild. She still looked pretty, though.

Then came Timothy. She was younger, much younger. Maybe mid 20’s. She was wearing a floural, collared shirt. She didn’t look like her sisters. She wasn’t as pale and Jordan, nor was she tall and slim like El. She had black hair and two different colored eyes. She had a personality of a lawer or a salesman. She was persuasive. She had quite the personality from what I have heard.

She came and sat with Cas and I. “You old enough to drink?” I asked her with a laugh. She had an oddly young look about her. “You young enough for this?” she said, kicking our hands under the table. “You’re not slick old man,” she said. “Hello Cas,” she said, smiling sweetly at him. “Hello Timmy,” he said.

She ordered herself a beer and watched as Jordan danced with Sam and El. “Why don’t you two show them how it’s done?” she asked. “I don’t dance sweetheart,” I said. “Me neither,” she said as Jack sat down. “The music is terrible here,” said Timmy. It was playing an Adel song while they waited for the next brave or drunk person to come up.

“I like it,” said Jack as he took a drink of his beer. “Who’s the kid?” she asked. Cas smiled a little and I let out a small laugh. “This kid,” Cas said. “Is God.” She laughed but then realized that we were serious. “You’re kidding right? This literal baby is God?” Jack nodded with enthusiasm. “Well damn, hallelujah,” she said, raising her beer and drinking the rest of it.

“Guess I can’t be surprised anymore, with Ben being an angel now,” she said. Ben was Jordan’s ex boyfriend. “Did the angel tell you their name?” Cas asked. “No, he never stays around for long. Says Jordan makes him sick,” she shrugged as Jordan squealed as Sam picked her up, upside down and spun her. “The bastard.” Timmy said.

She looked at her older sisters. She gave a smile as El yelled to her, “I love this song!” “Don’t be the youngest,” she said. “You’re the only one with brain cells.”

After a moment, a young server came up to Timmy. “Hello Princess,” he said. “Fuck off,” she said. He slammed his hand on the table, making the four of us jump. “I said ‘Hello Princess’,” he said. “And she said ‘Fuck off’,” Jack said. His eyes flashed black. Jack took his hand and removed the demon with ease.

It was then that Jack said, “It’s movie time now.” The next thing we all knew, we were at the bunker. El looked around confused. Jordan looked around. “What in Hell?” she asked. “Demons,” said Jack. “The place was full of them.” “Damn,” said Jordan. “So we just left all those humans to fall victim to them?” El said. “No they all left after I smiled the one after...” he trailed off. “Never mind that. Let’s have fun here,” said Jack.

I would argue, but Jordan plopped on the couch as El laid across her. “Where are we and ho am I supposed to get back to my car?” “They’re already here,” said Jack. El nodded. “How are you already drunk?” Jordan asked El. “How are you still stupid?” she asked. “Okay,” she said pushing her off. “I think I’d better get her back,” Timmy said. “What about the demons?” Jack asked. “With God on my side?” she asked, messing up his hair. “I don’t think I have much to worry about. Purse dog, Moose, Squirrel, would one of you tell me where our car is?” Timmy asked as my heart dropped.

“I’ll show you,” Jordan said, picking up her sister from the ground. “See you later boys,” she said. “Maybe we can have some real fun next time. Thanks for keeping my sister for me!”

Sam, Cas, and I looked at each other. “Moose and Squirrel?” Cas said. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence?” Sam said. “I hope so,” said Dean. “She isn’t possessed,” said Jack. “But she isn’t human. Not fully,” he said. “What about Jordan?” Cas asked. “She’s safe, and as far as I could tell, so are her sisters,” he said, finding a seat on the couch.

“I think we should forget about that for now and watch a movie. I’ll have to go back to Heaven soon,” Jack said, giving us puppy eyes.

I was too tired to argue and so Cas and I sat on the couch as Jordan entered. “Can I pick?” Jack asked. “Go a head kid,” said Sam. “Go nuts,” I said. “Not too nuts. You know the blocked variety of movies,” said Cas. “Guys you do know you’re talking to God, right?” Jordan said as Jack looked for a movie.

He found a movie and about half way through, Jordan discreetly whispered something into Sam’s ear. He looked at me and gave a sly grin. Him and Jordan left the room. Jack had fallen asleep. I knew he didn’t need sleep or anything humans need, but I think he misses it. I think he hated being God. I saw him give what he calls “Googly eyes” at Timmy. He was God, but he was still Jack all the same.

Cas and I were close together on the couch, but it felt stiff. I didn’t want to go straight into holding his hand, and every time we, uhh cuddle, I’m the one who is being held, and I didn’t want that to be the norm.

God this is embarrassing. Why am I being such a pussy? That being said, I couldn’t just grab Cas up and yell at him to cuddle with me. So I did what every self respecting pussy would do. I did the cliche yawn arm thing.

At first, I didn’t know what Cas was going to do, but he soon leaned into it. I was stiff, but after my heart slowed and the burn in my cheeks cooled, I relaxed too. “Hey,” Cas said. “Yeah?” I said. “Why don’t we let Jack have the couch, and we go to bed?” he said. I kissed his forehead and nodded.

I woke up Jack and moved him to the couch. We went to bed. Cas was sitting at his usual spot at the end of my bed. “Uhh Cas?” I said. “Yes?” he said, taking off his shoes. “I’m about to change.” I said, heart pounding. “Okay?” Cas said, sitting cris cross on the bed. “Okay? So don’t look!” I said.

He smiled at me. “What?” I said. “You’re blushing,” he said. I threw my shoe at him while he laughed. “Seriously man,” I said. “I won’t,” he said turning around. I quickly changed into some sweat pants and told him he can turn around.

I crawled in bed. He sat at the foot of the bed. It was cool that night. I knew angels didn’t get cold, but I craved his touch. Gross right? I’m king of no chick flick moments but this felt like a chick flick moment to me. “Cas? If you wanna-I mean-you can-“ He seemed to get the message because he got under the blanket on the other side of me. We were nose to nose.

This was definitely a chick flick moment, but you know what? I kissed him as he ran his hands through my hair. “Dean,” he whispered in between kisses. “Cas.” This was perfect. He is beautiful. I was finally happy. I had my brother and my dog. I had Jack, and I had my new sense of self worth. But most of all I had Cas. I had my boyfriend. I had the love of my life.

I had all the night, our limbs intertwined, and our hearts in sync. Yep this was a chick flick moment, but maybe, I thought as sweat rolled off my forehead and I looked him in his perfect blue eyes. Maybe they weren’t so bad after all. But ugh that’s corny as hell.

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fuckthe10essays · 4 years ago

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Othello is a pessimistic play; in it anything that can go wrong does go wrong

As Murphy’s law dictates anything that can go wrong will go wrong. As the title of this essay suggests, Othello is a fine example of that. As Shakespeare’s comedies end in happy marriages, his tragedies end in numerous deaths. Othello joins the likes of King Lear, Hamlet and Macbeth in its tragical ending but also offers a pessimistic perspective on human nature and just how far people are willing to go to get what they want. Combined with Murphy’s law, a catastrophic ending and an increasingly negative commentary on how easily people can use others for their own gain, Othello is a pessimistic play with a worryingly candor opinion on human nature and just how much greed and jealousy can afflict the human mind.

As soon as the first scene we can see as readers that this play is going to take a very pessimistic tone. One the very first page we learn that Othello, a Moorish general, has eloped with Desdemona, a white young noblewoman. A wedding is a celebration of both love and commitment, a triumph in choosing a person to spend the rest of your life with and to possibly have children with. But to Iago their marriage was just another thing he could use to get what he desires. He, along with Rodrigo, make a mockery of their union by shouting lewd, racist and false things to Desdemona’s father in the middle of the night from the street. ‘Even now, now, very now, an old black ram is tupping your white ewe.’ Brabantio initially does not believe them but soon sends out a search party to look for Desdemona. All the while Iago is hiding in the shadows, shouting things, but making it seem like Rodrigo was the one saying them. Letting him face Brabantio’s wrath. ‘Thou art a villain.’ This leads to Brabantio disowning Desdemona ‘I had rather to adopt a child then get it.’ and to insinuate to Othello that if Desdemona can deceive him, she could deceive Othello. ‘She has deceived her father and may thee.’ This scene shows Iago instrumenting the loss of any fleeting sense of happiness or optimism. He has allowed a seed of doubt to sow in Othello’s mind that will lead to his downfall. Iago is not what he is, and this play is only proof of that.

As easily as Iago manipulates situations to meet his own ends, he also manipulates people, namely Rodrigo. Rodrigo is a curious character in that, like Othello he believes every word that comes out of Iago’s mouth, but Rodrigo is also paying Iago’s way. He exists to fund Iago’s schemes but also, he is the only person Iago is in any way honest with apart from his asides to the audience. Iago uses Rodrigo’s misguided love for Desdemona as a reason to come to Cyprus. ‘Put money in thy purse; follow these wars.’ Iago has such a hold over Rodrigo that even in Rodrigo’s only scene where he manages to stand up to Iago ‘For your words and performances are no kin together.’ he is once again back in Iago’s grasp. Iago does this by tempting him with sex with Desdemona if he helps Iago kill Cassio. Iago doesn’t care one bit about Rodrigo’s love for Desdemona. To Iago, Rodrigo is just another pawn in his game. In this play Iago is a fine example of the lengths and willingness that people will go to get what they want. Rodrigo has sold all his land and has gone broke chasing after Iago. ‘I have wasted myself out of my means.’ but Iago feels no remorse, it helped him and therefore the consequences do not matter. He is the ugly truth of human nature, but he is not above fate, nor murphy’s law. For as the saying goes what goes around must come around.

Alas Rodrigo is not the only person to have been subjected to Iago’s cruel plans. Michael Cassio, Othello’s lieutenant suffers almost immediately after landing in Cyprus because of Iago. It is part of Iago’s plan to take Cassio’s job to become close to Othello and bring about his downfall. ’For making him egregiously an ass and practicing upon his peace and quiet even to madness.’ Iago does this by manipulation of Cassio and his inability to hold his alcohol. Iago knows about Cassio being a lightweight and uses this to his advantage, getting him drunk and initiating a riot. When Othello comes down to investigate, he asks Iago what has happened. This is when things start to go wrong, for Iago blames the riot on Cassio ‘I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth than it should do offence to Michael Cassio’. This causes Othello to fire Cassio from his lieutenant and the allows for the first pieces of Iago’s plan to go into play. With Cassio now mourning his reputation ‘O! I have lost my reputation.’ Iago suggests that he go and plead his case to Desdemona, Othello’s wife. This suggestion leads way to Iago insinuating that Cassio and Desdemona are having an affair to Othello. It is in this moment that we can see the possibilities of what Iago will do and how much can go wrong for all the other characters.

Out of all of the things that have gone wrong in this play quite possible the worst and most damning one was Desdemona’s handkerchief. How something so small and inconspicuous could have such an enormous effect could only have been brought about by Iago’s hand and some bad luck from fate. With Othello on the verge of being convinced that Desdemona and Cassio are having an affair he demands that Iago shows him some proof. Iago tries to suggest that he had heard Cassio talk about Desdemona in his sleep, but Othello dismisses him. Iago is left to think what proof he could present to Othello when Emilia brings him Desdemona’s handkerchief, her first gift from Othello, which Iago had asked her to steal for him. He then conspires to leave it in Cassio’s lodgings to frame him for an affair with Desdemona. ‘I will in Cassio’s lodgings lose this napkin and let him find it.’ But something even better for Iago happens. Iago and Othello and are talking when they see Bianca, a prostitute, come and confront Cassio with the handkerchief, accusing him of sleeping with other women. ‘This is some minx’s token.’ Othello sees this. He sees Cassio with evidence, in his mind, of Desdemona’s infidelity and not only that but to him Cassio hasn’t even been faithful to Desdemona and has been sleeping with other women. This is all it takes to convince Othello of their affair. Long gone are the days of a happy marriage for now Othello is conspiring murder. ‘How shall I murder him, Iago?’ ‘I will chop her into messes.’ This a direct result of Iago’s meddling and of how wrong so many things have gone.

Othello’s descent into paranoia about his wife is one of the most successful achievements on Iago’s part. He so skillfully warped Othello’s mind, he so easily preyed on his insecurities and so artfully manipulated him that it’s not surprising how fast Othello succumbed to Iago’s schemes. It is a very sad aspect of the play because of how unrestrained Iago is in using Othello’s own insecurities against him. Iago manipulates Othello through what Brabantio said about Desdemona deceiving him and probably Othello ’She has deceived her father and may thee.’ by calling all Venetian women whores. It’s not that Othello is stupid to believe him, it’s that Iago is preying on doubts that are already in his mind and turns them against him. To go from the strong, confident and capable general we saw in Act 1 Scene 1 to the broken shadow of a man he ends up becoming is only possible through Iago using what Othello already thinks against him. At the beginning it would have been nearly impossible to imagine Othello then as Othello now, but Iago succeeded so well in his manipulation that any result other than death would have a surprising twist.

The play ends with three bodies on a single bed but four deaths in total. Simple Rodrigo was betrayed by Iago after his failed attempt on Cassio’s life and killed. ‘O dammed Iago! O inhuman dog!’ Desdemona was murdered by Othello for retribution for her supposed infidelity. Emilia was stabbed by Iago after she spoke of the handkerchief and how Iago asked her to steal it for him. ’She gives it to Cassio! No, alas! I found it, and I did give it to my husband.’ Once Othello heard the truth about the handkerchief and how Iago had lied, he made one last speech about his service to Venice ‘I have done my state a service and they know it.’ and then committed suicide by stabbing himself with a concealed knife. Falling onto the bed that the bodies of Desdemona and Emilia lay on. Emilia was murdered by her husband because she wouldn’t keep quiet about the handkerchief, but it was her husband Iago who did most of his damage talking. It is also ironic that Desdemona was killed by her husband for being ‘unfaithful’ when in fact one of Iago’s motives for doing all this was because he wanted revenge on Othello for supposedly sleeping with his wife. It is even more ironic that out of everyone the only person to have escaped unscathed is the person who delivered the most damning piece of evidence against Desdemona and the reason Emilia was killed, Bianca. While everyone else was either killed, sentenced to a life of torture or maimed in some way, Bianca suffered nothing.

In conclusion two of the main reasons that Iago did what he did was because 1. He believed that Othello had slept with his wife, Emilia and therefore he wanted revenge on Othello, and 2. Because he was jealous of Cassio and wanted his lieutenant job. Now I cannot say that if these reasons did not exist that Iago would not have done what he did but revenge, greed and jealousy certainly proved to fine motives for his actions. Othello is, if nothing else, a warning to not let yourself be overcome by things like revenge, greed or jealousy. For in every person there might not be an Iago but anyone could be an Othello, so overcome by their insecurities and doubt that they lash out violently and hurt people, or a Desdemona, so naïve in their actions or beliefs that they cannot see how it’s affecting those around them, or even an Emilia, through blind love and obedience be complicit in someone else's horrible action and only realize too late. So yes, in relation to the question Othello is a pessimistic play but you cannot reduce it to just its pessimism when it gives a very valid commentary on human nature and just how far we’ll go to get what we want.

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orangeoctopi7 · 5 years ago

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History Repeats Itself

: Chapter 1 : Chapter 2 : Chapter 3 : Chapter 4 : Chapter 5 : Chapter 6 :

The boys resumed working on the Time Tape right away. Ford showed his brother how to carefully use the tiny file to grind off the excess bits of metal from the miniscule framework of circuitry. Once Stan got started on his own, the young genius got to work taking apart the Time Tape’s casing, and preparing to replace the circuitry. As they worked, the only sound was the scraping of the file and their mother taking the occasional call for her phone psychic business downstairs.

Ford was trying to tease the damaged circuits out of their casing with the tweezers he’d used to clean the sand off the new circuits. After a few failed attempts, he threw them down in frustration.

“Where are my needle-nosed pliers!?” He shuffled through all the tools and parts that had accumulated on his desk.

Stan shrugged, then winced as his arm throbbed again.

When another few minutes of exasperated searching didn’t turn up anything, Ford decided to head back downstairs and see if there was a pair among their father’s tools.

“Hey, gimme another ice pack while you’re down there?” Stan requested. The ice bag he’d been using had become nothing more than a sweaty bag of lukewarm water.

“Sure.” Ford nodded as he left the room.

Since the bag no longer soothed his aching arm, Stan picked it up and plopped it into their trash bin before resuming his task of filing down the new circuitry. The water from the bag coated his fingers, making his grip slippery. The next time his right arm throbbed with pain, his fingers twitched, and the file slipped out of his hand. He instinctively grabbed it with his left hand… and snapped the circuitry he was holding in half in the process.

Stan just stared down at his hands blankly for a couple of seconds before what he’d done sunk in. “...Crap…” he breathed. His stomach twisted and his heart rate skyrocketed. Way to go, screw-up, you’ve ruined one of your brother’s important projects yet again!

No. No, this wasn’t going to be like that. Stan looked around frantically, for a place to hide the evidence, for an escape route, he wasn’t sure. Then his eyes fell on the soldering iron. Of course! After thirty years of rebuilding the Portal, he knew how to use one of those! He could still fix it! Sure, Ford had said it was too big for such delicate work, but Stan was willing to try anything at this point.

He laid the circuitry back down in the sand mold as carefully as his shaking hands would allow. It wasn’t a perfect fit, many of the sand grains had been picked away by the first molding, but it would have to do for now. He held the soldering spool and the hot iron just a few millimeters above the first break in the circuitry. He tried to hold his hands steady as a molten drop of metal dripped into the sand, but his emotions were running away with him. His thoughts kept on circling, screw-up, screw-up, screw-up, repeating on an endless loop in his head. His breath was coming in irregular gasps, and his vision was blurring. Instead of sealing the break, the drop of metal was just a couple of millimeters off target.

“C-c’mon!” Stan grunted, sticking the tip of the soldering iron into the molten drop and dragging it to the break in the circuit, like one would drag a fountain pen through a drop of ink. All he ended up doing was melting the metal on either side of the break.

“No. No! No no no!” Stan’s frustration and fear bloomed into anger, and he slammed the soldering iron down on the desk, leaving a scorch mark in the hard plastic surface and snapping the tip of the iron right off. He stared mutely at the smoldering tip as it slowly burned a hole in the carpet. How could things have gone so wrong so quickly?

His instincts were telling him to run, but what good would that do? He was still trapped in the past with Stanford, and he’d just sabotaged their chances of fixing the thing they needed to get home. How would Ford react when he found out?

It won’t be like with the science fair. The logical part of Stan’s brain reasoned. You’ve both learned from your mistakes and grown since then.

But Stan had never been very good at listening to the logical part of his brain. The rest of his brain could only remember all the times he’d messed up before, and how his life always seemed to start a death spiral from there.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and froze. He’d run out of time.

“I’ve got your ice pack. Sorry I took so long, the needle-nosed pliers were all the way down in the pawn shop. I guess dad needed them to work on an old clock someone--” Ford stopped short when he took in the devastated expression on his brother’s face. “What happened?”

“I--I--” Stan stammered, struggling to form coherent words, much less describe what he’d done. “I’m sorry-- my hand slipped-- I didn’t mean to-- no, no excuses-- I tried to fix it, I swear!”

“Hey… hey, it’s ok.” Ford rushed forward and wrapped his brother in a hug.

“It’s not ok!” Stan cried. “We need to go home, and I just ruined the thing we need to do that!”

Ford glanced over his brother’s shoulder and took in the broken circuitry and the snapped soldering iron. He quickly unplugged the iron before it caught anything on fire, but then returned to comforting his brother.

“Stanley, it’s ok, it was just an accident.”

Stan frowned down at the ground. “It’s always an accident.”

Ford gently took his brother by the shoulders. “It was delicate, I could have snapped it just as easily.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t. You didn’t break the iron either.” Stan held his head in his hands and gave a hollow laugh. “I could’ve burned the house down. That’d be a new low, even for me.”

“You need to stop beating yourself up so much. Nothing was broken that can’t be fixed.” Ford assured him. “I told you I can form the circuits again, it’ll only take a couple of days and a new soldering iron.”

Stan groaned. “Yeah, nothing that can’t be fixed except the school's property.”

Ford scoffed. “I literally could not care less about the school’s property.”

“And your desk.”

“Trust me, I’ve burnt plenty of holes of my own in that desk.”

Stan just swallowed back tears and leaned into his brother’s shoulder.

Ford patted his back awkwardly. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry I always got so irate all those other times, but I’ve learned my lesson since then.”

Stan was maybe on the verge of feeling better when they both heard the familiar sound of an oldsmobile pulling into the parking space behind the pawn shop. Filbrick was home, with his usual sense of timing. Ford could feel his brother tense in his arms.

“...Maybe he went out for drinks with the coach and he’ll just go straight to bed.” The young genius hoped. Thankfully their father was more of a sleepy drunk than an angry drunk.

The heavy footfalls coming up the stairs didn’t sound like a tired, drunken stagger. They heard a muted conversation between their parents, and then the footsteps continued up the second flight of stairs to their attic bedroom.

Ford held the ice pack up to Stan’s face.

“Wha-- Ford, what the heck?”

“It’ll mask any swelling or redness from… your hormone-induced emotional outburst.” They didn’t have time to argue over whether or not Stan had just been crying.

The heavy footsteps stopped, and the door swung open. Filbrick was barely an inch taller than them at this point, and yet his impassive face loomed over them like a colossus.

“You two left without tellin’ me. Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“Not worried enough to come looking for us, apparently.” Ford answered flippantly.

“I had to go use the payphone to call your Ma when neither of you came back in time for the Somners fight!” He informed them. “So not only did I spend money I shouldn’t’ve had to, I cut into her precious client time. You know she can’t take customers during the day anymore because of the baby!”

“Oh…” Ford had forgotten about that particular detail. “Sorry.” He was mostly sorry for his mother. “It was my fault, I was really anxious to get back to my science fair project.”

“And you,” Filbrick turned to Stan, who quickly lowered the ice from his face. “You left without collectin’ your pay! What kind of imbecile does that!? I had to collect it for you.”

“Oh, heh, whoops!” Stan forced on his best con man smile. “Guess I must’ve hit my head one too many times in the ring.”

“How many times have I got to tell you boys?” Filbrick shook his head. “All the brains or charm in the world can’t buy you a meal in your stomach or a roof over your head. What’s it gonna take for you two to man up and start takin’ your futures seriously?”

The two brothers remained silent, both knowing better than to try and answer this rhetorical question. Still, the irony was not lost on them.

“Well, since you’re obviously not responsible enough to handle this money on your own, I think I’ll hang onto those winnings I picked up for you. Taking out the cost of the payphone, any potential revenu your mother might’ve lost while I was on the phone with her, and a holder’s fee, there should be just enough left for me to pay off your parking ticket.”

“Th-thanks, dad.” Stan said meekly.

“Don’t thank him, he’s taking money that’s rightfully yours!” Ford said indignantly.

“Ford!” Stan hissed, elbowing his brother hard in the ribs. He cast a wary glance up at their father. “H-he didn’t mean it!”

Filbrick stared down his rebellious son, his expression as unreadable as ever behind his dark glasses. Ford glared right back, unwavering.

“Let me clear something up for you, smart guy.” Fibrick growled. “You live under my roof. My sons. My dependents. So until you two turn 18, any money either of you make is technically mine. You’re just lucky me and your Ma make enough that we don’t need to take any of it from you.”

Stan squeezed his brother’s arm tightly and whispered in his ear. “Ford, please, don’t. Just let it go. Please.” He wasn’t sure if he was pleading with his brother not to correct their father’s grammar, or his understanding of how parental stewardship and dependents worked. Thankfully, Ford lowered his gaze and nodded.

Filbrick nodded stoically back. “And clean this room up, it smells like burnt plastic in here.”

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #Filbrick Pines #my writing

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seasaltmemories · 6 years ago

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Suffering

Rating: T

Summary: You’re mistaken to believe hate swallows every other emotion.” Slowly he closed the distance between them. “Love and hate are a masochistic pair of dancers, yet they continue twirling around one another all the same." [Arranged Marriage AU] [Trigger Warnings]

Rigel Castle was quiet. After an exciting night of song and dance, it seemed no one had the energy to return back to the land of the living just yet. Few guards remained at their posts, and the ones that did were often, sleeping, drunk, or both. It was a blessing Celica was thankful for, but it did nothing to alleviate her anxiety.

The only things left fueling her plans were desperation and determination. Neither logic nor well-constructed strategies meant anything, anymore. Tonight might be her last chance at freedom, and if she wasted it and got caught then returning to the dungeon might be the least of her worries.

Earth Mother, guide me please. Don’t let my escape me in vain.

Just then, Celica heard the sound of clear, hurried footsteps. Frantically, she scanned her surroundings for a place to hide. Like the rest of the Rigel Castle, there was a restrained formality that offered little decoration. The only break in its strict design was a large door that laid at the end of the hallway. It made the hair on her body stand on end, but there was no time for second thoughts. As quickly and carefully as she could, she cracked open the door and slide herself inside.

Just as she rested her back against the door, she heard the sound of voices, and like that ever muscle in her body froze.

“Disgraceful!” A low voice scoffed. “Absolutely disgraceful to see Rigelian soldiers like this. Doubt we’ll be able to find enough to form a half-sober platoon.”

“Aren’t you being a little harsh, sir? After the last few days, they’ve earned their relaxation.”

“They’re not done yet though.”

“Excuse me? I thought the Deliverance had already ridden out.”

“Exactly. We’re not done dealing with them yet.” At the news, Celica’s eyes widened in fear. “Like I said, get me the least drunk men you can. We ride out at dawn.”

Something like a scream curled in the back of her throat. Not just because of the footsteps growing louder and louder, almost upon her, nor the bitter taste of betrayal on her tongue, but because of all that had happened since the Rigelians first step foot into Zofia--since this terrible marriage bound her to them in the first place.

I will never go back to that dungeon. Magic crackled at her fingertips. We all will die before that happens.

But soon the footsteps grew soft again, then completely silent. She was completely alone with nothing but her burning hatred as company.

Before she could dwell on it much longer, she notice that the prickling sensation had not gone away. In fact as Celica examined herself, she found the pain had all concentrated around her brand.

For the first time, she noticed her surroundings were much different now. This part of Rigel Castle felt like neither like its brutal dungeons nor its deceptive residential wings. It seemed...older, less another man-made structure and more as if it had emerged from the earth itself.

A flight of stairs descended before her, yet as she peered over the edge, she could see no bottom. It just extended deeper and deeper into the cave. Every instinct in her body warned against what might wait at the bottom, but her brand seemed to sting even more the closer she got.

What did such a phenomenon mean, Celica couldn’t say. But she wanted to it mean something. That was the only thing she was certain of anymore.

And so she mouthed another her prayer to herself as she ventured down.

Time seemed to elongate, seconds taking minutes to pass. The steeper the stairs grew, the more the brand burned her skin. Soon both facts were all that she was focusing on. What if in reality she was just falling into a giant pit? She usually wasn’t one to doubt her perception so much, but the pain seemed to twist and bend her sight. When she made it to the bottom would she find her limbs broken and mangled for her reckless endeavor?

Just when she was sure the pain in her palm would grow overwhelming, when her courage would finally give way and she’d scramble back to Alm’s room to forget about the attack on the Deliverance and play the good Rigelian wife, she came across a strange cell of sorts.

In the middle of it sat a great skeleton of a dragon with a sword piercing its skull.

“Oh Mila...” Celica murmured to herself.

“You called?”

It took all of her willpower not to shriek as she moved closer to find another dragon lying just out of her initial line of vision. Brown-dried blood stained its scales while feathery wings curled around its body. It had been centuries since she had assumed that form, but could it really be?

“Earth Mother!” Celica’s voice cracked with emotion. Her arm seemed to move with a mind of its own, straining to touch her, yet what little distance she could reach through the iron bars wasn’t enough.

“I’m here, child.” She sighed. “It pains me I can’t take a shape you are more comfortable with, but it really is me.”

After weeks of refusing to cry, it was like the floodgates opened. Celica found herself sobbing like a child again as she collapsed to the floor. There was so much she wanted to say, it all swirled together into a mess of tears. Had Mila heard all the prayers she had offered up, knew the pain and humiliation she had endured in her name? Dragon or no, she wanted to be there with her, pressed against her scales as she babbled away every hidden secret she had carried since the fire.

But no matter how close she was to true peace, Celica knew she couldn’t fall apart. Not yet. Slowly, she rose so that she could sink into a proper bow.

“I traversed all of Valentia in search of you, Earth Mother. How may I serve you?”

“You may rise, Anthiese.” It felt strange to hear Mila address her. Outside of the disaster of a honeymoon, she had only visited her once or twice. Her purpose had always been to stand as her father’s daughter rather than an individual, to be seen and not heard as the pageantry and rituals took place before her eyes. “My, you look so much like Liprica now. You’ve blossomed into such a fine lady.”

Celica stiffened. Sometimes even she forgot about her mother’s life before becoming just another wife of her father’s. She had been a sacred and well-respected priestess at Mila’s Temple. To directly serve their goddess was an honor only few ever received. She should have held that position until the day she died.

Yet after her father’s men had kidnapped her in the middle of the night, Mila hadn’t remarked on the situation at all.

“Her sacrifice was a tragedy I grieve to this day,” Mila closed her eyes and paused as she took a labored breath. “But without it, I couldn’t have claimed you as mine.”

“Claimed me?”

“Yes,” With one word it was like a spark had been ignited her eyes. “Neither Duma nor I knew the exact details, but we shared our blood with you humans, for a reason. One day our bloodline would return to save us from our darkest days.”

It was difficult to process such news, but something deep inside of Celica accepted it without question. Her pain and suffering had been for a reason. She wasn’t a failure. Her goddess needed her, specifically. Despite the rush though, she tried to remain calm and level-headed.

“What did they do to you, Earth Mother?” Her gaze drifted back to dragon skeleton with the sword. “Is that--”

“I’ll explain everything to the best of my abilities.” Mila tilted her head towards the other dragon. “That is, indeed, my brother, and that is Falchion. It was a secret weapon he held, back during our quarreling days. If he died against me, then one of his branded could return the favor and avenge him. Only it seems the current emperor has gone mad and fancied himself a god greater than Duma. I don’t know what spurred this betrayal, but I pity my brother all the same.”

“What about the prince?” She found herself interrupting Mila by accident. “Forgive me, but I perceived that he was the one to harm you.”

“He did.” Something like laughter bubbled up from her fangs, but it was as if her body couldn’t form the right sounds. “Poor boy has been twisted from his birth to hate his master and true destiny. He used Duma’s hair and teeth to create a special net to ensnare me. Can you imagine such blasphemy?”

It was only with that information, Celica finally noticed the wires extending from Mila’s body. They were thin, only visible when they caught the light. Usually such trifling things would be easily ignored by a goddess. It had to be something about coming from Duma that did this.

“Why haven’t they killed you too? What twisted purpose would they torture you for?” It felt like she was on the verge of something, like she was slowly putting together a puzzle and just needed a few more pieces, but she still couldn’t quite tell what the picture was.

There was that not-laugh again. Was she trying to smile? Mila was showing teeth, but there was little mirth in the action. “My dear brother isn’t dead. He almost is, but it seems sentiment got in the way at the last minute. Or spite, who can tell? But this is where you can come in and save me.” Mila strained to lean forward, yet could only move a few centimeters. “You are branded. If in his dying breath he gives you permission to wield Falchion, you could cut me free. Nothing else can break these ties. You’re my only hope, Anthiese.”

The weight of her gaze laid heavy on Celica’s chest. As honorable as such a role was, the responsibility was beginning to drown out her previous elation. She was so tired. She didn’t know how many more burdens she could carry before her body gave way.

“Are you sure this is the only choice, I don’t what would make Duma trust me now when I’ve--”

“Don’t question my judgment!” Her sudden roar made Celica flinch. “I apologize,” Quickly Mila lowered her voice. “But you do know what a brand means?” There was that spark again. “Your life is mine. I nursed your ancestors for centuries. As the product of their prosperity, you have no right to refuse me now.” This time, Celica could tell she was indeed trying to smile, although the expression was terrifying on her face. “I believe in you.”

Celica took a deep breath. Mila was right. How selfish could she be to abandon her country and people right at the last minute? If that ambush on the Deliverance was really going to happen, she couldn’t waste anymore time dallying about.

“I’ll do it.” She bowed deep and low to the ground. “I won’t let you down.”

After examining the cell, soon, she had found an entrance. Considering Mila was trapped in her dragon form, it seemed they hadn’t bother to lock a small human-sized door on the other side. When she entered, the size of both dragons took her aback, yet Mila continued to give that fanged grin in encouragement.

“Take Falchion. Then all will be made clear to you.”

As Celica took hold of Falchion, she didn’t know what she expected. Perhaps more pain, or holy fire damning her for touching another god’s sacred weapon.

Well she didn’t know when she closed her eyes, but when she opened them instead she found a tall man standing before her.

He was dressed in Rigelian armor, long green hair done back in a ponytail. Despite lacking any similar facial features to his sister, somehow she recognized him immediately.

“Duma,” Celica whispered. Then realizing her error, she tried to bow while still holding on to Falchion, although of course she couldn’t bow as deeply as she had for Mila, as that would be disloyal to her, yet for some reason she couldn’t see Mila nor Falchion anymore where had they--

“Peace, child.” His deep voice steadied her thoughts.

“War Father,” Celica ducked her head. “I petition you on the behalf of my own patron. Please excuse any sacrilege I might have committed against your Faithful and put aside any old grudges because the only way I can--”

“I said peace, child.” This time there was an edge to his voice. “Although I am in this decaying state, I still have not lost my hearing. I know my sister’s schemes. The only thing I remain ignorant of, is if you are worthy of my judgment or not.”

It took all her willpower to stay standing tall, to keep looking him in the eyes. She didn’t know what was more likely to happen once her nerve gave out, if she would cry or strike him.

“You have the bearings of a warrior, child of peace. That’s not something I’ve seen in many of my kings, much less a pet spoiled on milk and honey.”

“Forgive me War Father,” Before she could stop herself, the words were already slipping past her tongue. “But I don’t recall ever being given milk and honey.”

Red eyes set on her, and for a moment, Celica was certain she’d be vaporized any second. Instead, Duma tilted his head.

“Elaborate.”

“I don’t know what you want to hear, but Jedah talked as if you loved suffering. I’ve had enough suffering just to get to where I am standing now. I don’t wish to suffer more simply for your entertainment.” Alm had been the first to insist that pretty lies had no place in Rigel. Even if that had proven to be a pretty lie in of itself, she wanted to see how their god would fare against a brutal truth.

Duma just continued to study her. “Tell me, child of peace. Do you hate me?”

The question took her aback. “I respected you. Even if Mila guarded Zofia, without you, Valentia would have never survived. I’m grateful for that.”

“Why do you use the past tense?”

“Because when I was forced to pray to you until my voice went hoarse, when my torturers hurt me in your name, I truly did loathe you. Even if you never wanted any of that to happen to me, I can’t help but carry that pain with me when I think of you now. I don’t know which one will win out after this is over.”

“You’re mistaken to believe hate swallows every other emotion.” Slowly he closed the distance between them. “There’s a part of me that still hates my sister, yet the only reason I’ve refused to die yet is in hopes that she might be spared.” As large as he was next to her, there was something in the curve of his lip that seemed to bring him down to her level. “Love and hate are a masochistic pair of dancers, yet they continue twirling around one another all the same."

Something uncomfortable swirled in the pits of her stomach. She did her best to push it down. “So did I fail your judgment?”

“I wanted Prince Albein to wield Falchion so badly.” Duma sighed. “He reminded me so much of Rigel. I thought we might take all of Valentia together. Maybe even dethrone Naga and her precious people.” Whatever vulnerability that had existed before was gone now, replaced with a proud strength that could snap her like a twig if he so pleased. “But I supposed his soul partner shall do. I see fire in your eyes, child of peace. You know how to do what is necessary.” Gently he placed his hand on top of her head.

“I’m putting a lot of trust in you. Once Falchion is unsealed, there will be no going back. Promise me you’ll save my sister.”

“I will.” Celica clasped her hands and brought them to her lips. “I swear on my life.”

“No matter what she says.” The last part startled her, and her confusion must have shown on her face. “I’m afraid I don’t have enough time to explain. Still I always believe even the worst suffering can bring wisdom. I hope it may guide you well.” He turned around, looking at a horizon that didn’t exist. “Is it alright if I close my eyes now? I used to be too stubborn to ever accept peace. Perhaps this old fool still has time to learn.”

In an explosion of light, Duma’s image dispersed. When Celica found herself opening her eyes again, Falchion was free and the skeleton gone.

“I’ll pray for you, War Father.” Celica found herself whispering. “I’ll pray that you learn peace.”

“Good work Anthiese.” Mila’s voice was high and tinny, breaking Celica from her musing. “Now just cut the wires and then everything will be fixed.”

The weight of the sword felt heavier than it should. As she dragged it toward Mila, she tried to assess Duma’s words. Did he believe Mila to have lost all hope? Or perhaps he worried that she might unknowingly drag her own brand bearer into another trap.

“Wait,” Celica slowed to a stop. “Before we start this, there is something you have to know. I have soldiers who could be walking into a trap--”

“None of that will matter once I’m free!” Mila groaned. “Please you’ll understand soon.”

It seemed in this panicked state, there was little reasoning with her. It was selfish of her to not consider how Mila’s pain might cloud her mind just as it had clouded her own in the dungeon. There seemed to be one only one way to dispel the chaos. With a sigh, Celica readied her blade.

Once Mila is free, everything will be fixed.

With a single swing, Celica cut the wires embedded in Mila.

In an instant, she stood on her hindquarters, form shifting rapidly between her full draconic size and a woman of feathers and scales. Every time Celica’s eyes got used to one version, Mila snapped back to a different one, sometimes even ending up stuck in a grotesque half-form. It was only once her mind gave up on processing this did she finally register the guttral scream that remained just as pained and tortured no matter what.

“Oh Earth Mother,” Celica whimpered, not sure if she was calling out to the being in front of her anymore.

“No...I-I expected...this,” Mila croaked out between cries. “I apologize for my deceit.”

A great clawed foot crashed into Celica’s chest as Mila straddled her. Her claws tore through her shirt with ease and laid readied above her skin to do the same thing.

“Mila please, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” She pushed uselessly against her leg, unable to escape its weight. “I’m sorry, please forgive me!”

“Your soul is so bright...it’s such a beautiful thing,” Her voice was more gentle than ever, sounding scarily human-like now. “Just one bite won’t hurt,” Her right foot transformed into a human hand, and it gripped Celica’s chin. “Quit squirming and remember your vows, Liprica.”

What followed next shouldn’t have occurred. Falchion had been knocked from her hands and laid out of reach. And even without the lack of touch, enchanted weapons always took a while to master. Arts couldn’t be called from them without intense practice. Yet once Mila grabbed her, Celica felt as if her bones had been turned to gunpowder.

And well Duma had said the fire had been there from the start.

An inferno of red and gold consumed them both. Mila’s cries, their brilliant blaze, it was all drowned out by the blood boiling in her veins. The part of herself aware of what was happening wondered if this is what her siblings had felt in the villa, if they had now bestowed on her combined pain of their deaths as they had slowly burned to ash. Or maybe it wasn’t ghosts, but fate that had paid her a visit. Maybe all the times she should have died had now converged to make sure she couldn’t slip away this time.

The rest of her could only weep in fear.

As quickly as the flame had appeared, it died out soon after. Celica struggled to remain conscious, but darkness blurred her vision. The only thing her eyes could focus on was Mila, now charred and burned as she stumbled back. Yet as she regained her footing, she took off running towards her.

Oh this is it

The thought came to her with sparkling clarity. Killed by her own goddess, how crueler could the universe get?

Yet right as Mila was about to trample her, she leaped and crashed through the cell bars. A roar filled the tunnels and once it faded away, equal parts dread and relief flooded her body. Soon she could tell her vision would darken completely.

Seems I’m still the princess who refuses to die...

I guess even I don’t deserve such kindness.

The first thing destiny took from Alm was his dignity.

A servant had barged into his room, and in his half asleep state he had cared little to listen to her. Rather he had frantically pulled at his covers to try and maintain some degree of modesty for him and Anthiese.

But as he reached for her, all he found was empty space.

While stunned, the servant had dragged him out at bed. She was an older matron who between frantic cries scoffed at his bashfulness. Rather than noticing his indecency at all, she kept yelling about a giant beast ravaging the halls.

In an instant, Alm became completely awake.

He sent the servant in search of his sword and armor as he dressed himself, mind whirling with worries. There was so much to consider, where to find Father, if the Duma wires had given way, and if so, would it be worth it to try and pry Falchion out of Duma’s skull for the umpteenth time. But one thought concerned him above all else.

She’s not here. She said she’d stay here.

His first instinct had been to run up to Father’s bedroom, but by the time he made it there, he was nowhere to be found. Anxiety and fear gripped his being. He searched for a servant or guard to guide him, but everyone he talked to proved to be just as agitated and confused as him. Would Berkut be any help? Or would there just be another naked, surprised prince to have to explain everything all over again to? Gods, where had Anthiese gone?

There were so many questions, so many possible answers he didn’t want to face. He couldn’t tell if it was a blessing or a curse when a rumbling shook the castle, jostling him from his thoughts. Before he could regain his footing, there was a crash, and a soldier was thrown through a nearby window.

“What’s going on? Can you report on the current situation?” His first instinct was to help the soldier up, but on closer expectation he found her legs broken, bloody things.

“Monster...” The soldier muttered as she clung to his breastplate. “You have to help the Emperor, he’s--” Her words descended into an unintelligible mess of groans. As much as her state pained him, he couldn’t help but drop her at the revelation.

For a split second, he almost prayed.

Instead though, he rushed out onto the ramparts the soldier had been thrown from. The night was still dark, with only a few torches to light the way. But for his lack of sight, the sounds and smells illuminated enough. There a low, constant moan, humming from station to station. With each source a disgusting mixture of blood and piss tainted the air. While Alm was no stranger to the battlefield, this wasn’t anything so honorable. This was a massacre.

Don't look at them, find Father

He ran down its length, trying not to focus on the bodies the light settled on, trying not to listen to their calls for help. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry--” Maybe that was all he was good for anymore: useless apologies that were uttered too late. None of his words had ever been good enough for Anthiese, why did he thing they would do him any good as hurried whispers? At this point he felt as he was no longer himself anymore, but some puppet on a string desperately trying to remember his dance. Gods, he had to do something. He was the brand bearer, it didn’t matter who started the fire, if the world burned, it only do so because of his failure to stop it.

They have to be alive, they have to be alive, please take me if you must, but they have to be--

Both his thoughts and steps came to a crashing halt once he reached the far bastion. In the darkness it was difficult to make sense of it all, but there was something almost in the shape of Mila. It was the right size, bearing both feathers and scales, but something in his mind couldn’t put all the details quite together. He had already seen her draconic form, already faced down the goddess and her greatest power, yet something about this terrified him to the core of his being.

The earlier rumbling crystallized into something like words as she bent towards the soldier pinned beneath her.

“Heretic, blasphemous rat, wicked man, rotting in my shit is too good a fate for you, you don’t deserve to wear my brother’s brand--”

“No!” The cry came from somewhere young and foolish inside of him. At the interruption, the dragon turned to reveal a beautiful woman’s face stained with blood. Her movement allowed a beam of moonlight to slip through and confirm the worse of his fears.

This time even just focusing on the details couldn’t save him from the truth. Even if he could have somehow missed the emperor’s lance which laid still clutched in his hands, if he brilliant red and gold armor wasn’t a give-away, if the entire face had been smashed in and not only halfway where he could still fear like never before on Father’s face--

His body was in motion before he could realize it, sword poised to hit not the most lethal locations, but the most painful ones. Yet with each swing, she deflected the blow with hardened scales lined against her legs.

“My, my, you need to save your breathe boy,” It was only then Alm realized he was screaming, no roaring as if he was a wild beast himself. Yet such taunts only made him grow louder and his lunges more frantic.

“I’m trying to do you a service!” She laughed. “While you couldn’t help your upbringing, your pain will be a long, (delicious) experience.” Despite her crowing, she stumbled at those words. Alm wasted no time. In one swift motion he raised his sword--

--and just missed her as jumped off the bastion and flew away.

For a minute, Alm could only stare at her slowly fading figure and seethe in his rage. He wanted to transcend his bones and flesh, become a force of nature with no higher purpose in his life than to destroy. But as he lost sight of Mila, the grief and pain became all there was left of him.

Before he figured it would consumed him completely, he approached Father’s corpse. There was little that would make such a grisly sight palatable, but he did his best to straighten his armor, to place his crown back upon his head. He did his best to fight against the tide of regrets. It was a warrior’s death. He had protected his country until his last breath. Better to mean something than to just waste away.

But it didn’t stop Alm from wishing more than anything that he had at least gotten to be there with him when he died, to have more memories of the end than a mangled corpse.

“Father, what am I supposed to do now?”

The only answer he received was his own chocked sobs.

A.N. Lots more blood and pain in this chapter, which was similar to the writing process for this lol, I had a rough semester, plus some outside projects, which made what I knew would be a difficult chapter even more of a challenge, sorry if this feels thin content-wise, but there is a lot going on with lore and action so I figured it would better to stop obsessively editing it and to just get it out before Three Houses takes up a lot of my free time

The plot of Echoes have finally come to terrorize the PLBT!cast, just when a stable status quo seemed in sight, now both of them most handle the consequences of their choices

#celicalm #celica #alm #fire emblem echoes #fe echoes #my lame writing #otp: I'll send a storm to capture your heart and bring you home #arranged marriage au #ships and deserts and swamps oh my #lol got a bit too consistant there #probably couldn't believe it really was me

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ijustreallylovezebras · 7 years ago

Text

Maid

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Summary: Sometimes Y/N feels like his maid (Prompts 21: You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad, 24: Your Mum texted to tell you you’re pathetic)

Requested: Yep by @sunshine112

Harrison had been back from filming for a week by now and, as much as Y/N loved having him home - for truly, she did, she loved him and missed him so much when he was away - she was beginning to feel like a maid.

She came home from work that evening, feeling rather stressed as a result of her boss being a complete arse to her, wanting nothing more than to come home to a clean flat and a boyfriend to cuddle up and watch TV with.

Instead, when she put the key into the lock and walked into her flat, she found dirty dishes piled by the sink, beer bottles in the living room on the coffee table and the bed still unmade from where Harrison had gotten up after her that evening, as well as the dirty washing still in the basket despite her leaving a note for Harrison asking him to do it on the fridge before she left that morning.

Y/N groaned, making her way back into the kitchen, where her note from that morning was still hanging, untouched, on the fridge. There was another sheet of paper on the counter in Harrison’s handwriting.

Hey babe, hope you had a good day at work. Tom and Tuwaine came over for some drinks and we’re going out clubbing tonight. Don’t wait up, love you lots, H xx

Y/N sighed out in frustration, binning the note and running some hot water in the sink to start washing the dishes with. She cleaned the whole apartment and put the washing in to clean overnight, deciding that she would dry it and iron it the next day rather than wait for it to finish tonight.

When she did finally climb into bed that night, alone, without Harrison there with her, that was when she finally started to feel pissed off with him. Which was why, when he returned home at two in the morning, not drunk but tipsy and she was still awake worrying about him, she rolled away from him when he tried to cuddle her, pretending to be asleep.

But she wasn’t able to block out the feeling of guilt that it resulted in when she peaked one of her eyes open to see the confused and hurt look on his face, but quickly shut it again so that he wouldn’t notice that she was still awake.

Waking up the next morning, Y/N was glad to remember that she had no work. Sometime, during the night, she had wound up back in Harrison’s embrace and, normally, on her day off she would remain there for much of the morning until the both of them woke up on their own accord.

However, today, Y/N still had traces of anger lingering from yesterday, and also remembered that she had put some washing in the previous night that she needed to put in the tumble-dryer before ironing.

So she got up, showered, and changed into a pair of shorts, a loose fitting shirts and one of her own hoodies, despite it being nowhere near as comfortable as the one Harrison had left on the floor after stumbling in last night.

Her frustration only grew when she went through to the living room, she found Tom and Tuwaine passed out on the two couches. They had their own homes, why not crash out there?

Y/N moved the washing into the tumble-dryer and set it off before going to make herself some breakfast. Another one of hers and Harrison’s weekend traditions was to make and eat breakfast together, Y/N was not in the mood to do that, especially seeing as though they would also be joined by Harrison’s two best friends.

As much as Y/N loved Tom and Tuwaine as though they were brothers, she treasured her time with Harrison and the guys got him more than half of the year normally while Tom was filming and Tuwaine had the time to fly out and visit the two - Y/N didn’t have that privilege, having only flown out to visit her boyfriend a couple of times as plane tickets were expensive and she had to work her arse off to be able to afford one. Speaking of work, as well, it further limited the time she got to spend with just her boyfriend, limited it to weekends, evenings and the occasional morning that Harrison woke up early enough to bid his girlfriend farewell.

So while she loved Tom and Tuwaine’s company when they were over, she did want more time to spend with just Harrison.

After making her breakfast though, and eating it, she discovered that they were running low on groceries and that she had just drunk the last of the coffee, which was yet another job she had asked Harrison to do and he had seemingly ‘forgotten’ about.

However, before heading out to the store, shopping list in hand, Y/N left a glass of water and a painkiller beside each man, unsure of whether they would be awake or not by the time she returned home from the store. It wasn’t a long walk but you never know.

Upon returning to the apartment, laden with Tesco bags full of groceries, Y/N found all three boys at the kitchen table, their heads pressed against the cool surface. She raised her eyebrows at the sight, placing the bags on the counter and proceeding to unpack them into the various cupboards they belonged to.

“Morning Y/N,” Tom manages to groan out.

“Morning Tom,”

Harrison forces his head up and smiles at his girlfriend, the kind of smile that normally would have made Y/N’s heart flutter but today just made her roll her eyes a little in frustration.

“Can you make us some coffee?” He asks and Y/N frowns.

“How long have you guys been up?”

“Ten minutes,” is Tuwaine’s muffled response.

“And you guys didn’t think to make it for yourself?” The boys raise their heads from the table and share looks that make Y/N sigh, putting on the kettle. “I have ironing to do, seeing as though Harrison didn’t do it yesterday,” she was well-aware of how passive-agressive the comment sounded but didn’t have it in herself to care, feeling sick of having to wait upon Harrison and his friends.

Five minutes later, Harrison walks through to the laundry room with Y/N’s favourite mug in his hands, full of coffee. He places it on the counter next to her, a sheepish smile on his face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do the washing yesterday,” Y/N let out a breath, turning towards him.

“I’m not your maid, Haz,” Y/N says and could have laughed at the confused expression on his face when she said it. Normally, she would have found it adorable. Today, however, she needed him to understand where she was coming from.

“I know you’re not, babe,” but Y/N shakes her head, frustrated beyond belief.

“You never clear up your dishes, you left all the beer bottles at home in the lounge, you ignored my note about doing the washing, you didn’t do the shopping like I asked and you didn’t even make the fucking bed,” she was close to tears and she got the feeling she sounded ridiculous.

“I know, I’m sorry babe,” but Harrison looked on the verge of laughter, which pissed Y/N off to no end.

“Why are you laughing?” She demands, feeling like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just... you’re so fucking hot when you’re mad,” the look Y/N gave him was murderous. She wanted nothing more than to just slap him and she threw her hands up, exasperated, walking out of the laundry room and into the living room, noticing that Tom and Tuwaine had taken the chance to slip out of the flat. “Babe, babe, I’m sorry!” Harrison calls after her, following her through the apartment and Y/N groans, turning back towards him.

“Why, Harrison? Why can’t you just help out around the house?” She asks and just then his phone flashes up with a text from where it was lying on the kitchen table. “Hey look at that, Haz, your mum texted to tell you you’re pathetic!”

Harrison couldn’t help it that time, bursting out laughing.

“I’m sorry, babe, I love you though. And I’m sorry. I just forgot to do the shopping and then Tom came over and distracted me from doing the washing. I’m so sorry,” Harrison begs, going over to her and taking her little hands into his large ones.

“Haz-”

“No, I’m sorry, I’ll make dinner tonight and I’ll put the washing in, whatever, I’m sorry, love,”

“I’m sorry that I overreacted a bit... I just really missed you and then you’ve come back and spent all of your time with Tom and it’s just...” Y/N sighs, feeling defeated and allows Harrison to hug her tightly.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’m sorry, okay? I’ll make it up to you. This whole weekend we can spend together, just us, no Tom or Tuwaine crashing or anything,”

“Promise?” Y/N asks, looking up at him. Harrison smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

“Promise,”

I hope that this was what you wanted :)

MARVEL TAG LIST

@vineisdeadiwishiwas @sea040561

#marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #harrison #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfeild imagine #harrison osterfield imagines #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x y/n #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield fan #harrison osterfield fluff #harrison osterfield angst #requests #requested #please request

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geekygoddesss · 7 years ago

Text

The Talk

Luke

He’s nervous as fuck.

There was a lot of things he was good at but just dropping such a metaphorical bomb on people just like that wasn’t one of them, especially to someone like (Y/n), he never in his life would have thought he would be in such an awful place.

He’s been pacing here and there for hours, almost to the point of feeling a slight discomfort on his feet for standing such a long time, but he couldn’t help it, he was too nervous to just stay on the living room waiting for her. He needed to move, he needed to rehearse his words, he needed to prepare himself to what may happen because this is the first time he was going to do such a thing and only god knows how bad it might be.

He eventually stopped to take a break for himself, after almost an hour of just going back and forth between this, he stopped and grabbed some whiskey, he just needed a bit of alcohol in his system to get through this. This was going to be such a mess.

The moment she crossed their apartment’s door with that smile plastered in her face instantly made him feel like such a bad person, because it was beautiful to see her this happy, on a normal situation he would have held her and made sure she kept smiling for him, because seeing that smile on her face was almost like a gift for him. Not tonight though, this was hard, really hard, but it was going to be harder to ruin her night in just a second.

“Hey” He said in an unexpected serious voice, he didn’t want to come at her too severe at first, but again, he couldn’t help it.

“Hi” She said in a happy voice, leaving her jacket on the table and shoes at the door “How are you?” (Y/n) asked, almost running to the sofa and just jumping down in the spot next to him.

Holy shit, she was really happy. Why? Why tonight?

“Pretty good, just here- chilling” he said, drinking the whole cup of whiskey in one sitting. Maybe it will get him drunk faster and everything would be easier, in his wildest dreams.

“Okay” she said a little weird out “You’re being weird” she nervously chuckles and sits down straight on the sofa “Is everything okay?” she asks, caressing his hair with the tip of her fingers.

“Yeah- no” he says, being pretty straight forward and just going at it. better sooner than later, right? “I’m sorry, can we talk?” he asked, turning to look at her, finding her eyes, that slowly showed a worried frown at him.

“We are talking” she said in a mumble before getting more serious “What’s going on?” she asks.

He tries to speak but the words can’t come out. He was blocked, which was ironic, Usually words came out very easily for him but this time it was just too hard to do it. He needs to man up, he needs another whiskey, he needs to just let this out and get over with.

“Are you okay?” she asks worried, looking for his hand, but he moves it away the moment her fingers touched his.

“No, not really” he shook his head repeatedly as he set the cup down on the table. Just say it, he said to himself, You wanted this now go for it. “Look, before I say what I have to say I just have to tell you that this has nothing to do with you, it’s all me, I don’t want you to put take the blame cause you did absolutely nothing wrong” he started, almost wanting to punch himself out but after that, he just said it “I am sorry but this isn’t working anymore”

she froze and the light in her eyes simply faded “You mean, like, Us?”

“Yes” he nods, pressing his lips together “I don’t feel like our thing it’s working” he explains. the inner him is just waiting for her to say something but she doesn't, she’s too quiet “I love you, I really do but I don’t think I feel the same anymore, we’ve been together for such a long time and it’s been the best ever, you’re beautiful and so sweet-”

“Cut the bullshit” she snaps, cutting him off and also taking him by surprise, she was mad and also at the verge of breaking on tears, he couldn’t handle that “Don’t try to sugarcoat, please by all means, If you are going to break up with me come up with a better reason” she says and now he just feels like crap. it had definitely nothing to do with her but he was indeed sugar coating it, for her own good. “Have a gut, I know for a fact that’s not the real reason” she said. her head shakes “I’m sorry, I'm being rude, I just don’t understand” she apologizes, taking a deep breath and trying to take it all in.

He definitely ruined her day.

“I know you’re upset, I’m sorry” he tries. Searching for her hands with his own would be dumb but he still does it. Maybe that is the only chance he has to comfort her and if he could do it, he would take that chance “The truth is” he said trying to look for the right words to say this “I met someone”

There’s a painful silence between them, it was killing him, the tension was real.

She took her hands away from him. she knew that this hasn’t been the same for neither of them for the past months and acting like nothing had happened was her easier way to go through it, but sadly this had to end sometime. She knew that he would never cheat on her, ever, but the fact that he was in love with someone else broke her heart in a million pieces, because the truth is, she was hoping to someday be his one and only.

“Is she nice?” she asks, being the only thing that crossed her mind at the moment.

He sighs “Yes, we connected very well” He said, regretting his words almost instantly “I’m sorry, I don’t think you want me to talk about her”

“I think this is it then” she said, not thinking about it at all and getting up her seat “I-I-I have to go” she stutters.

she walks to the door and grabs her purse, there are tiny sobs leaving her lips but he tries to ignore them, he could almost hear her heartbreaking and he knew damn well that this would just break his heart in an instant, but there’s nothing he could do about it.

“No, (Y/n Luke said, trying to stop her “You’re upset”

“No shit” she laughed ironically “I have to go”

He said, blocking the door with his body “I am not letting you go out like this” he said, that being his last statement “Let’s just sit down and have a talk”

“I can’t, Luke, I can’t” She snaps breaking into a bunch of cries in one second “Let me go, I can’t” she repeated herself with a broken voice “I thought you loved me”

“and I do”

“But you love her more” She says, breaking into sobs right in front of him. He hated to see her cry, he really did “You change me for her”

“I’m sorry” he said, being the only thing he thought it was the right thing to say. The truth is, she is such an amazing woman but his feelings speak to someone else, he needed to stay true to his feelings.

“I just- I need to think” she nodded and somehow he just moved from the door. She needs space, she wouldn’t be able to think clearly with him being there. “Someone will get my stuff later” she said, to then just walk out, from him and his life.

“I love you” he said almost as a reflection, this was something they said to each other every time they left for something. who would have thought this would be the last time he would say this to her

“I am a terrible person”

Calum

“What’s on your mind?” He asked me as he sat on the couch.

It was just a normal day in a LA, just another day where Calum had not any work to do and we could just lay around the house and chill. Those were my favorite days in my opinion. My mind was just all over the place right now, it was hard to explain, ever since last week I saw so much stuff differently there was a bunch of stuff that wouldn’t leave my mind ever.

“Nothing” I said, smiling to him, rolling on to look up at him “Just something really beautiful, that’s all”

“Uhhh thats nice” He smiled handing me a penny for me to take it “Penny for your thought?”

“Smooth” I chuckle, taking the penny from his hand.

“I know” he said, being pretty confident with himself “What’s up in that pretty little head?” he said, kissing my forehead softly.

“Have you ever thought on the future?” I ask him innocently“Like us together”

He looks up and thinks about it for a second before nodding “Yeah” he says “a Fair amount of times I would say, You are my girl, of course, I think about our future”

I smile “That’s good” I say leaning more towards him “you know, I’ve been thinking and We’ve been together since high school, we live together, we’re engaged, we’re on our late twenties, everything is so beautiful” I say, taking his hand and just playing with his fingers “What if we -you know- make a little add up on our life”

“an add up like?” he says raising his eyebrows.

“A baby” I say and he goes silent.

it takes him a minute to finally answers. I knew it, there was no way to bring this up easily but I had to anyways. “Wow” he says in a mumble “honey, that’s a big decision”

I shrug, not really trying to make it a big deal, even when I was freaking out on the inside “I know, but I just thought, we did great with the dog” I say innocently, interviewing my hand with his “We could try something else, make something that’s ours”

“Are you suggesting we make a baby?” he says, looking at me with a tiny smile on his face “Right here, right now?”

“Why not?” I chuckle “If there’s a right time, it might as well be right now” I say, pecking my lips with his in a quick move “I love you, Cal, I want a family with you, I want everything with you, You’re the love of my life” I say, speaking nothing but the truth “So, what do you think?”

He looks down at me with dreamy eyes, looking so cute I just wanted to cover him in kisses “I love you so much” he says, taking my hand and kissing the back of it “I think we could make a great baby”

I nod and laugh at his statement, not helping myself but just throwing myself at him and catching his lips with mine, pressing his body against me tightly, feeling his presence more than ever. I loved this guy more and more every day, this felt so right, i felt home and I couldn’t wait to make a family with him.

“Actually” he says, separating from our kiss just a little “I think the factory is opening now” he says teasingly, kissing my cheek shortly

“Maybe we should go in” I smile.

“Maybe you we should get to work” he says, getting up the sofa while grabbing my hand and pulling me with him towards the bedroom“C’mon, we have a baby to make”

This day was just getting better and better.

Michael

“I missed you so much” I said as I hugged myself to my boyfriend as we cuddled on the couch “Did I say that already? I felt like I didn’t”

“Yeah, you did” He said chuckling while looking down at our intertwined hands, while he played with my fingers “You definitely did”

He was acting a little weird today, I don’t know why, he has just been extra awkward today and that kind of worried me in some ways. I tried to hang out with him all day long but that was just impossible, with college duty coming in and my roommate being a bitch with me like usual, it was hard to get to see him all of the time while he was chilling here at his house. So when I got the chance to finally come in and see him I came here in no time. I missed him so much. I can’t believe he was away for 4 months.

But he was acting weird, not bad weird, just weird. I don’t even know.

“Hey, are you alright?” I ask, caressing his cheek with the back of my hand.

“Yes” he says softly, nodding a little and hugging me into him even more.

“You seem kind of zoned out a little, that’s all” I shrug, resting my head on his chest.

“Can we talk for a second?” he says almost interrupting me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“ Yeah sure, Is everything okay?” I say, sitting up a little and looking up at him, waiting for him to say what he had to say.

“Everything is perfect” He says shaking his head “I just- I’ve been wanting to talk to you for while now”

“Okay” I nod and smile at him, hoping to make him feel a little better “I’m listening, What’s up?”

He sighs before saying “You know I love you, right?” he asks and I nod “I mean, it’s something it’s been wandering around my head for a while, We’ve been together for a long time now, I don’t think I’ve ever been with anyone for this long and I love you, it kind of terrifies me” He chuckles nervously while shaking his head a little “On this last tour I’ve just missed you the most, I couldn’t stop thinking about you even when I was having the time of my life it pained me so much to not see you there with me when I come home and I don’t know” he shook his head and covers his face with his hand in embarrassment “Oh crap, I don’t know how to put this together, I’m sorry”

“It’s okay” I say putting my hand on his back and caressing it softly “It’s not something bad, is it?” I ask.

Gosh, I hope it’s not something bad.

“No, no, not at all” He chuckles, looking up at me again “Would you- Would-” he tries at first but he is not making himself clear “Would you be interested on moving in with me?” he asks and I freeze.

“What?” I ask back. This was not happening.

Did I heard him right? Is he really asking me that?. Oh my godness.

“You don’t have to, I would totally understand if you don’t want to” He starts talking, explaining himself a little bit too much, but he seems cut off when I get up on the bed and jump with excitement, landing on my knees and straddling his waist.

“Yes! Oh my gosh, Michael, yes I do want to” I exclaim, hugging him against me. There was no way I would reject him from this offer, the answer was yes. I love him and I love being with him, I would take this next step with him anytime “I can’t believe this” I laugh, kissing his cheek and looking at him with a huge smile on my face.

On the other hand, he was hyperventilating a little. “What? are you okay?” I ask brushing his hair back.

“I’m kind of panicking, it’s fine” he says breathing a little heavily but still leaning in to steal a kiss from my “I can’t believe you said yes” he says against my lips, kissing me one more time “God damn I love you”

“I love you more” I say kissing him again but I stop in track feeling his chest with the palm of my hand. His heart was pounding. “Damn”

“What?” he says with a little frown, looking at me with his bright eyes.

“You’re so damn cute but you are indeed panicking, let me get you some water” I say kissing his cheek as he nods. He was overthinking stuff again and this is the result of it, but it’s alright, he will get over it.

I enter the kitchen and pour him some water in a cup. I can’t help it but stop myself so I can watch the whole place carefully and then realization hits me. This is amazing, who would have thought? This is incredible if this wasn’t the greatest thing ever I don’t know what is, I will be living here with my boyfriend. I am moving in with Michael!.

I am too lucky.

Ashton

“Do you ever think about the future?” Ashton asks while we lay on the ground over a blanket and just stare at the stars.

We were camping together for the first time with our friends and family and everything was going so well, I was having the time of my life. Times like this were the ones that made me love my life more and more every time, we’ve had such a great time, I didn’t wanted it to end ever.

We were just laying there, after everyone has gone to sleep, enjoying our last night of camping together and talking about everything and nothing. A moment to remember.

“Yeah, of course, yeah” I say turning my head to look at him“Do you?”

He nods, not looking at me at all “I do, a lot actually”

I reach for his hand and take it on mine “What’s on your mind?”

He shakes his head a little “Well, i think in at least ten years, I want to get some more albums out, that’s for sure” he says as a start “I want to work with big people in the industry, I would love to buy a house in Australia” he adds before looking over at me and mumbling “I want to marry you” In very clear words.

“What?” I say as a huge smile appears on my face “So you want to marry me?”

He nods and panic a little before adding “Not right now, not in this close future, maybe a couple of years from now” he explains, giving a soft squeeze to my hand “I see you there, with a white dress and waiting for me on a beautiful wedding”

I can picture it, I’ve day dreamed about my wedding day so many times, that picturing it with Ashton just made me feel so good and I just wanted to make it come true. It makes me so happy he feels the same way as me.

“Oh, Ashton, I didn’t know that” I smile at him “We never got to talk about it”

“I wasn’t sure how to bring it up before” He says, chuckling nervously and looking at the sky again “But yeah, that’s been going around my mind lately, I wanted to know how you feel about that”

“Well” I say, switching my position and just resting my weight on my bent arm. Getting to look at him from a different angle “I’d love to marry you, one day” I say in a very clear voice “I’m not going to lie, I’ve definitely seen you in my future, I just don’t really, think about it too deeply” I say shrugging a little “But I love you and I definitely want to be with you and spend the rest of my life with someone I care” I say, rolling and getting a little closer to him “You’re the only person I would like to do such a thing”

“I am flattered” he said with a smile. He pouts a little with his lips and I take the clue and just lean to kiss him. We share a short kiss, before just staring at each other in the eyes for a long second “I love you” He whispers to me.

“I love you more” I say back, pecking his lips one more time before mumble “I am so tired”

“me too” he chuckles, grabbing my hips in his big hands “But you know what I’m thinking?” He says smiling at me “I think we should not sleep”

“And eat the popcorn we have left” I say completing what he was going to say because I knew he was going to say that.

“Yes” he says and we laugh “You get me”

I wink at him “I know”

Great minds think alike, we just happen to be connected. I love him so much, I don’t think I can even imagine life without him in it, he is such a great man, I can’t even believe I am this lucky to have him.

And there is one thing no one can deny, We are completely made for each other.

#5sos preferences #5 seconds of summer preferences #luke hemmings imagines #calum hood imagines #michael clifford imagines #ashton irwin imagines

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amusewithaview · 7 years ago

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Last one, can be meta if you'd like: College AU. For a Dragon age game of your choice. Preferably characters as Professors but you do your thing. Alternatively, if you'd like this more: characters as mutants? Mutant Professors?

Note: Amuse is drunk posting.

OHHHHHH MY GOD… DRAGON AGE AS UNI, HAH!

Dragon Age: Origins and Dragon Age 2 are CLEARLY both perfectly set up as High School AUs so I am going to focus on Inquisition.

The Inquisitor is the Provost who DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS, but got promote because the last Provost (probably Justinia) dropped dead in office and the Inquisitor was the closest to her.

Leliana is the terrifying Head of Legal who knows where all the bodies are burie (because she was the one who did the burying).

Cassandra is head of Campus Police and takes shit like active shooter training SO SERIOUSLY, YOU GUYS, like there are drills on a monthly basis and half of the tenure professors have a Pavlovian response to her whistle.

Josephine is the Director of HR and she rules her people like the benevolent queen that she is. Like, she’ll lay off the researchers and they fuckin’ thank her for the privilege of speaking to her/working for the uni. She’s got that shit on LOCK.

Cullen is the football (or insert-sport-of-preference-here) coach and he makes fuckin’ bank because he is AWESOME AT HIS JOB but he secretly endows several different scholarships for bio majors and other hard sciences because he believes in STEM and wants more people to go into those fields.

Varric is the head of the English department and he is a legendary novelist with several works currently in production to be movies. Fuckin’ everyone loves his classes. He actually started as like a guest speaker and then they gave him an online class and then slowly he ended up taking over the whole English department and they can’t even be mad because he’s JUST THAT GOOD AND CHARMING.

Solas is the head of the Classics department and he is constantly in these sniping fights with Varric because Varric poaches ALL HIS BEST STUDENTS, THAT FUCK. It drives him NUTS because that means he only gets to keep the kiddos with like an axe to grind against the establishment an a lot of the more imaginative kids get sucked in by Varric’s imagination station.

Dorian is head of the philosophy department and he constantly butts heads with The Iron Bull, who heads anthropology. Their tiffs are legendary and everyone knows to steer clear of their offices after any interdepartmental collaboration because the offices aren’t exactly soundproofed IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN AND I THINK YOU DO.

Sera and Blackwall work together in student services. Sera is excellent at relating to the students (because she recently WAS ONE) and Blackwall knows all the shit frat boys can get into because he used to be on the wrong side of that legal divide and he uses his experiences to get through to problem kids on the verge of throwing their lives (and scholarships) away. Blackwall = Dean of Students/Sera = Assistant Dean.

Vivienne is the head of donations/giving/whatever that one position is where you hit up alumni and famous people for cash to donate to the university. Her network reaches wide and far, she knows everyone who knows anyone and she uses her power wisely and sparingly. She totally has her eye on the Provost position, but she’d rather be President of the whole university.

Cole is one of the guidance counselors and half the time nobody knows what the fuck he means with his REALLY WEIRD AND SPECIFIC analogies an yet everyone who goes into his office comes out feeling better? It is a strange phenomenon but everyone just accepts that Cole is Like That. Hell, even the various professors all go and talk to him on the regular. Cole is probably the secret glue that keeps this crazy ship floating.

#amuse is drunk posting #help i've been swallowed by a dragon age #dragon age university au #no but for real dragon age 2 is SUCH A HIGH SCHOOL AU WAITING TO HAPPEN OH MY GOD #same for origins tbh #in fact they're probably rival highschools #the fereldan fighters versus the kirkwall bloodcurdlers

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hrlaw · 6 years ago

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@ircnsmile ! ----- liked for a kiss.

he was far too drunk to comprehend who was and was not an appropriate person for him to be laying his head on. the answer in the iron halls was probably ( no one ) but it wasn’t as if harras had ever been one to shy away from a physical touch he nuzzles his head into his cousin’s shoulder just letting the warmth from the greyjoy soak in. it reminded him a lot of ( rodrik’s shoulder ) now that his eyes were closed and he was just listening to maron’s voice. when had the younger boy gotten so old ? well around the same time harras had but it all seemed to strange, he’d never considered maron as old before. he presses a kiss to the other’s cheek for a moment, a simple gesture of appreciation for the kin before returning to his position and letting the conversation drone on half paying attention. harras often paid little heed to the conversations of sailing stories unless they were from men, far greater than himself. victarion or euron greyjoy for example... not these lowborn sailors.

but he was used to playing nice ( he’d had to do it his entire life of course he was used to playing nice ). but maybe he was used to playing nice ten or so ales ago. right now, harras wasn’t sure he could find his sea-legs, and that’s considering he’d been born with them. a hand comes up and ruffles maron’s hair for a moment as he pulls back enough to just look at his kin. “ for someone raised by ‘re enemies, y’aint bad. ” he laughs a little. a genuine laugh is hard to come by out of harras, but he can’t help it with the way maron’s looking at him as if he’s gone completely mad. he might have. he tries to get up and the greyjoy has to catch him, not because harras slips, but rather he’s seen people intoxicated as badly as he feels and rather knows that he should not have the coordination he can feel in his muscles, so he fakes the fall so maron can play hero.

once he’s back on his feet he adjusts his clothes slightly, puts his hands on the dark haired greyjoy’s chest and gives him a kiss. it’s rather fitting for the rescue. and harras feels like turning in and that’s a good way to make an exist. once he’s done, he quickly jumps out of reach before the boy can throw an axe at his head ( hell knows harras would have if maron had done the same ). “ i’ll be in my chambers. ” his eyes catch the greyjoys, and he pauses. suddenly his heart feels heavy, and the joy and light hearted laughter that had been held in his eyes vanishes. maron’s eyes remind him of alannys’, and of rodrik’s. his throat clenches, the ale is starting to make his stomach weak. “ goodnight. ” he tries to ignore the voice crack as he stumbles his way into the hall. tears already verging.

#incest cw #i mean not really but they kiss so just in case #ircnsmile

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whimsical-ness · 8 years ago

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Jackpot | Sehun

◇ Link to Masterlist

◇ Genre: What Happens In Vegas! AU, More Love/Hate (oops)

◇ Summary: A night of drunken fun in Vegas leads to you accidentally getting married to a tall, smirky stranger named Oh Sehun. Things get even more complicated when you hit a $2 million jackpot—neither of you can keep your share of the money unless you try and make the marriage work.

◇ Word Count: 4.7k

“Promise me you aren’t going to think about anything this weekend,” said your best friend Nat sternly, blocking the way into your hotel room with her outstretched arm. You rolled your eyes.

“I’m serious, Y/N. We didn’t come all the way to Vegas to have you be uptight and stressed out. We’re here to have fun, got it?” You laughed at the desperation in her voice. “Okay, okay Nat. Promise. No thinking about work, no thinking about him,” you said.

Nat sighed in relief, handing you the room pass with a wink. “Then let’s go get ready for a wild night.”

“I’m taking the shower first,” you called, striding into the bathroom. You undressed and stepped into the hot shower with a sigh, letting the water wash away your worries.

You had a lot of worries.

The biggest one was, probably, that your boyfriend of a year had cheated on you, a fact you had found out just last week. On top of that, your boss was being a complete asshole at work, and had relentlessly piled work up on your already tired shoulders. You had no time to even breathe.

Nat had noticed that you were basically on the verge of a nervous meltdown, and so had insisted on taking this spontaneous trip to Vegas for the weekend to lift your spirits. And you were determined to let your hair down, for just once.

You were pulled from your thoughts as you heard Nat scream. “Shit, Nat, what’s wrong?” you yelled, hurriedly wrapping a towel around your body.

You burst out of the bathroom, brandishing your curling iron as a weapon. Your mouth dropped as you saw Nat tackling a man onto the bed. “What the hell?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin as you heard someone approach you from behind. It was another man, and this time, you screamed, pushing him away. “For fucks’ sake. Leave him alone, what are you doing?” he yelled at Nat.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in our room?” you said defensively, pulling your towel tighter around yourself.

“Your room? This is ours!” he said, running his hand through his hair. Nat crossed her arms across her chest. “Why the fuck would the hotel give us the same room?” “I don’t know, lady. But I think I’m going to go find out before you murder me,” the shorter man said, rolling his eyes, scrambling off the bed from Nat’s wrath.

Turns out, your hotel had somehow double booked your room. But with some sweet-talking—courtesy of the taller guy—the manager agreed to let you stay in the penthouse suite as an apology. He even handed you VIP passes to all of the city’s hot spots.

The tall, dark-haired man smirked at your evident awe. “You girls are welcome. Thanks to us, you are now about to have the night of your lives.”

As you soon found out, his name was Sehun, while his shorter friend was called Junmyeon.

They seemed like a whole bunch of trouble and bad decisions. Which was, frankly, just what you needed. Plus, who would be stupid enough to give up those free VIP passes?

And so that night, you and Nat found yourselves having the time of your lives with two strangers you’d met just that afternoon.

You were chauffeured to casino after casino in a sleek black limo, had dinner in a Michelin star restaurant—and got more drunk than you ever had in your entire life.

You hadn’t meant to. Really. But you hadn’t anticipated Oh Sehun.

“What are you doing in Vegas?” you asked him. “I got fired,” he replied, throwing back his head as he swallowed a shot. “What about you?”

“My boyfriend cheated on me,” you said, shrugging, staring out at the view in front of you. Rooftop access at one of the city’s most luxurious hotels was now something to tick off your bucket list. All thanks to a room mishap.

“Okay, we’re going to need more drinks,” said Sehun, and waved over a waiter. You grinned back as he clinked his glass to yours. Over the course of the next few hours to found yourself pouring out all of your stress to him, while he did the same, telling you nearly his entire life story.

Oh Sehun was almost the complete opposite of you. He was arrogant, irresponsible, and seemed to think he had no faults.

You, on the other hand, were dedicated, hard-working, and (even though you never admitted it) uptight as hell. It was strange how quickly you opened up to a stranger who was so different from you.

The night was a blur of loud music, money, and alcohol. You let loose, letting the pulsing music in the club flow through your veins, along with the ridiculous amount of alcohol you’d consumed. You found yourself pressed up against Sehun on more than a few occasions, his flushed face dangerously close to yours.

“You know,” you yelled over the pounding bass. “It’s funny how connected I feel to you, even though we like, just met.” Sehun grinned. “Don’t get me wrong,” you continued, linking your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “You’re probably the last person on the planet whom I would ever sleep with.”

Sehun’s eyes were dark as he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “The feeling’s mutual.” “Good,” you said loudly, but the breath hitched in your throat as his hands found your hips, your bodies moving together against the rhythm.

And then he was laughing, and you were laughing, and he was too close to you for you to be able to think straight. His lips met yours, and as you tasted the alcohol on his breath, you let go of the last bit of sobriety and let the night envelope you with its madness.

You woke up with your head throbbing. You groaned and turned over, clutching the duvet closer. You realized with a start that you were completely naked.

The previous night’s events flooded through your muddled mind, and you bit your lip as you remembered tumbling onto the bed with Sehun.

“Shit,” you muttered. You sat up and pushed your hair back. Something cool touched your cheek as your fingers brushed past your face. You did a double take as you took in the ring sitting gold and pretty on your finger.

The ring.

“No no no. Oh god please no. This is not happening.” Oh but it was. Because as you glanced at the mirror in front of the bed, you read the post-it note stuck on it.

Morning, wifey. We’re at the buffet - Sehun

Fuck.

“Was there any part of the night that you thought, ‘Hey, it’s probably a bad idea to let my drunk best friend marry a random guy?’” you hissed at Nat as you made your way to the table where Sehun and Junmyeon were. Nat just shrugged. “I threw up on Junmyeon. I had no idea what was happening.”

Worst best friend ever.

“I’m-uh-gonna go get some coffee,“ you said, making eye contact with Sehun as you neared the table.

He caught the hint, and followed you as you made your way instead to one of the lottery machines casually placed right outside the breakfast buffet. “What even is this city,” you muttered, pulling out a quarter from your wallet.

“Good morning,” said Sehun nonchalantly. You smiled thinly. “Last night was…something,” he started. “You can say that again,” you said awkwardly. “You’re a lot of fun,” said Sehun. “I mean…the sex was—“

“Um, I’d rather not,” you cut him off, your face burning. “Right,” said Sehun clearing his throat. “Of course, we now have a tiny little problem of these rings..”

“Yeah, it’s hard to forget,” you said. “We need a divorce.”

For a moment Sehun just stared at you. “Did you just dump me?” You laughed awkwardly. “Well, we obviously hardly know each other—”

“No, no. Of course. Thank god you said it first,” said Sehun, looking relieved. You were slightly taken aback. “Junmyeon says we need an annulment, not a divorce,” he continued.

You felt strangely annoyed. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

Sehun let out a breath. “Phew. I’m glad that’s out of the way. Bullet dodged huh?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, look, I’m sorry. But you just seem like the type of girl who’s looking for a serious relationship, and I’m not…I’m definitely not that guy,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You stared at him, your annoyance now flaring up.

“No offense, but you seem like a lot of work—” he broke off at the look on your face. “Ah, marriage is an outdated concept, right?” he said awkwardly.

“Yeah, so is immaturity,” you said, snorting. “Pull it together, dude. No wonder you got fired. No one wants an employee who runs away from the slightest problem.”

Sehun stared at you. “Excuse me? And this is coming from a basically robotic woman, who had to come all the way to Vegas and marry a stranger to realize what a mess her life is?”

You gaped at him. “You know what? I’ll send you a fucking email about the annulment. Have a nice day, asshole.”

“You too,” said Sehun, flicking the quarter out of your fingers. “Hey, we’ll always have Vegas right?” he said, and pushed the coin into the machine, pressing down the lever.

“That was mine,” you said scowling, and turned away to storm off. You stopped in your tracks as a loud buzz went off, accompanied by a horn sounding. You whipped around, only to see everyone cheering and yelling, because someone had just won the jackpot money from the machine.

$2,000,000.

It took a minute for you process what was happening, until Sehun threw his hands up and yelled. “Holy fuck! I’m rich! I’m fucking rich!”

You stared as everyone surrounded him, cheering and congratulating him on his win, and the hotel manager handed him a massive cheque.

Junmyeon and Nat walked over to see what the commotion was about, and their jaws dropped as they saw Sehun standing there with his huge cheque, and equally huge smile on his face.

“That was my quarter,” you said in a daze.

You pushed your way through the throng of people and grabbed the corner of the cheque. Sehun dismissed you with a wave. “I’m the one who pulled the lever. So the money’s mine.”

“Not so fast, baby,” you said, smiling sweetly. “We’re married now, remember? What’s yours is mine.”

You felt a sense of triumph as Sehun’s face dropped with the realization.

“What a lovely way to celebrate our first day of marriage, hm?”

“This is ridiculous,” muttered Sehun as the two of you exited the court back home a week later. It was by some strange coincidence that Sehun lived in the same town as you.

“Yeah, well, we don’t have a choice, do we? It’s either this and a million dollars each, or nothing,” you said, sighing.

The judge had ruled that the two of you had to co-exist and attempt to make the ‘marriage’ work for 6 months before you could finalize the divorce. If either of you didn’t co-operate for that amount of time, the money would be tied up in litigation.

Sehun snorted. “We have to live together? And go to weekly counseling sessions? I can’t believe this is happening.”

You rolled your eyes. “This is obviously worse for me. I can’t imagine what your apartment is like.” “At least I have one. Where’s yours, I wonder? Oh, right, you lived with your cheating boyfriend. Sorry,” said Sehun meanly.

“6 months,” you said under your breath as you walked away. “I can do this.”

“See you tomorrow, wifey,” called Sehun sarcastically from behind you.

Just as you’d expected, Sehun’s apartment was a mess. His dirty laundry was lying pretty much everywhere, the bathroom looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned in weeks, and the refrigerator was stuffed with disgusting junk food.

“I can’t do this,” you moaned, as Nat helped you bring in your stuff. “Think about the 1 million dollars,” she reminded you.

Sehun sauntered out of his room, yawning. “Make yourself at home, sweetheart.”

“This is a pig sty,” you said. It’s one thing if you like a guy and have to put up with stuff like this. But you, I don’t care for. So clean up.”

“Hey, if you have a problem with it, you clean up,” he said shrugging.

So the rest of the day with was spent with you using anti-bacterial wipes and sprays, trying to make the place as accommodating as you possibly could. By the end of the evening, you were exhausted, and all you wanted to do was get a good night’s sleep. You washed up and made your way to where Sehun was lounging in the living room.

“Which one of us is taking the couch?” you asked tiredly. Sehun glanced up at you. “I don’t mind. You can use the bedroom,” he said. “Thanks,” you said awkwardly. “Sweet dreams, then.”

And just like that, the first day co-existence was over. You weren’t sure how many more you could take.

Sure enough, after one week of living together, you were pretty sure you were going to go insane.

Sehun did absolutely nothing the entire day, and seemingly was making no effort to even try and find another job. His logic was that in 6 months, he would be 1 million dollars richer and so didn’t need to work.

But you were still working your ass off at your job, and it pissed you off to come back to a messy apartment with Sehun lying about doing just about jackshit.

And when you told him so, he got annoyed and told you to mind your own business. There was no point in trying to talk to him about anything.

But the two of you put on the biggest show of your lives when you had to visit the marriage counselor. You held hands sweetly, called each other lovable nicknames, and tried your best to make it look like you were in love.

If the counselor thought it looked fake as hell, she didn’t say it.

“You know, if one of you cheated on the other or something, won’t the innocent person get to keep all the money?” asked Nat a few weeks later.

You nearly choked on your coffee. “What did you just say?”

“I mean, think about it. The person who fucks up and ruins the marriage doesn’t get the money. If you could get Sehun to somehow ‘cheat’ on you…”

A lightbulb went off in your head. “Nat, I think you’re onto something here.” Nat smiled smugly. “What say we throw a little party?”

And so the following weekend, without telling Sehun, you invited a bunch—or not really bunch, more like all the girls you knew—over to the apartment. “Remember girls,” you whispered. “Do and try anything to get into his pants. I doubt it’ll be too difficult.”

You felt a little guilty for tricking him like this. But you’d had enough.

And so it was with some sort of sickening satisfaction that you observed Sehun get surrounded by girls as soon as he appeared. He gaped at you. “What the fuck?”

“I just wanted to throw a party,” you said innocently. “I hope that’s okay.”

Sehun went red as a girl ran her hand down his chest. “I know what you’re trying to do,” he said, smiling. “And let me tell you, two can play at this game.”

You feigned ignorance and shrugged. “Have fun!”

But a half hour later, you realized you had underestimated him. Because not only did he manage to avoid making out with even one girl, but he also invited over his own friends.

His very hot friends.

Junmyeon was there, and so were a few others you’d never met. “Whoa, Sehun, this is your wife?” said one of them. “Dude, why the hell are you getting a divorce? She’s hot!”

You went red. Sehun coughed. “Shut up, Baekhyun,” said Junmyeon, smacking the guy who’d spoken in the arm.

This was going to be a long night.

It seemed as though Sehun had instructed his friends to do quite the opposite of what you’d asked your friends to do. Except for Baekhyun, the others avoided you every time you tried to talk to one of them.

You took an angry sip of your beer when the tall, cute one called Chanyeol politely excused himself out of a conversation with you. You locked eyes with Sehun from across the room and he smirked.

The party just got wilder and wilder. Soon enough, the music was blaring loud enough for you to get a headache, and you stumbled into the bathroom for some quiet.

To your surprise, Sehun was sitting there on the closed toilet seat. He raised his eyebrow as you came in.

“Tired already?”

“Not at all,” you lied. “But you must be. This must be so hard for you. Not being able to sleep with any of those girls even though you’re dying to? Go ahead, Sehun. Why don’t you just give in?”

Sehun laughed. “Do you really think I’m dumb enough to cheat on you?”

“I think it’s only a matter of time,” you replied. “Well, you’re wrong,” he said. “I can manage fine without chicks.”

You snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, standing up and walking over to you. “I’m a married man. And I am not screwing this thing up.” He was suddenly too close.

You stared up at him, unnerved at his proximity to you. His nose was almost touching yours. “Neither am I, Sehun,” you whispered. “I’m gonna go till the end of this.”

“Till death do us apart,” he said, his voice low. Your heart hammered in your chest.

“Not unless I kill you first.”

After that, it was war. The both of you tried everything possible to sabotage the other.

Sehun shut your alarm off one day, and you couldn’t wake up in time for work. You fumed as you pulled the clothes over yourself in a hurry, not even realizing that Sehun walked right in on you changing.

“Nice grandma panties,” he observed. You threw a pillow at him.

“What happened to the lace ones you wore in Vegas? Those were nice,” he continued, unbothered by your rage.

“I’m saving those for a husband who isn’t a complete jerk,” you snapped. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be extremely late to work thanks to you.”

“You’re welcome!” he called as you rushed out of the house.

As payback, you decided not to remind Sehun about the meeting with the counselor the next weekend. You sat there smugly as she shook her head at his ‘irresponsibility’.

Sehun looked ready to murder when you went back home. “Real mature, Y/N.” You just shrugged. “Hey, it isn’t my job to remind you. If you really wanted to work on this marriage, you would’ve been there.”

The look on his face was worth everything.

But as the weeks went by, strangely enough, it soon began to feel more like fun than an annoyance. You felt as if you were going crazy.

Because now you were getting used to him. You were just so used to having Sehun around all the time, that a small part of you was dreading when he would no longer be.

You felt as though you would miss him, even his stupid pranks. He’d become some sort of a frenemy to you. Some nights, you’d just sit there and argue on the couch about what movie to watch, and he’d steal all your popcorn. Or you’d make a meal together, fighting but laughing all the while about what ingredients to use.

Once, when you were doubled up in pain from period cramps, he actually went out and got you some painkillers and a tub of ice cream, even though he grumbled about it all the while.

The gesture touched you in a way you’d never imagined. But you were careful not to let Sehun know. There was no point, what with just a few months left of this arrangement. You would be going your two separate ways, each with a million dollars, and would never look back.

You hated to admit to yourself that it was going to hurt.

“It’s your birthday, babes. We’re going out,” said Nat, pulling you out of bed. You groaned. “I think I’ve had enough of your crazy ideas. I hope you realize that the last time I went out to party I got drunk and got married.”

“Sehun, would you please convince your wife to have a little fun on her birthday?” Nat called, ignoring you. Sehun appeared in the doorway. “I didn’t know it was your birthday,” he said. You rolled your eyes. “And the best husband award goes to..”

Sehun shrugged. “I know a great nightclub. Let’s go. You, me, Nat and Junmyeon. It’ll be like Vegas all over again.”

You bit your lip. “That’s exactly what I don’t want it to be like.”

But later that night, you were being dragged along anyway, in a tight black dress you hadn’t worn in ages. You must’ve imagined the way Sehun looked at you, his ears going slightly red at the tips.

You were frankly tired of loud music and alcohol. And so you sat at the bar while Nat when crazy on the dance floor, pulling Junmyeon along with her.

To your surprise, Sehun sat with you. “I don’t like this song,” he said simply. You hid a smile. When had he suddenly got so considerate?

You stirred your mocktail. “Weird, isn’t it? In a month or so we won’t be married anymore.” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.

Sehun was silent for a few minutes, and you almost wished you hadn’t said anything.

“Yeah, weird. But we can keep in touch,” he said finally. You nodded awkwardly. “I guess.”

You suddenly felt as though a heavy weight was settling over your chest. The flashing lights and music ringing in your ears were all at once overwhelming.

You stood up abruptly. “I’m gonna go get some air.” You didn’t wait to hear his response, quickly making your way out of the club, pushing through the crowd of people.

Once outside, you took a couple of deep breaths. You had to pull it together. There was no way in hell you were suddenly getting feelings for Sehun. You were not going to let it happen.

“Y/N?”

You turned at the mention of your name. And felt your whole body freeze.

It was him. The man you’d vowed never to see ever again. The man you’d wasted a year of your life with, only to have him break your heart. You automatically took a step back.

He held his arms up defensively. “I just want to talk.” “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say,” you spat. “You don’t get to fuck other girls and then expect me believe anything you say.”

“Whoa. It was one girl. And it was an accident. You know that. I was stressed out, drunk—”

You gaped at him. “So? I’ve been stressed too, asshole. That didn’t mean I cheated on you. You’re pathetic.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I just-I saw you here and everything came back to me. Seeing you looking so good, it just—I want you back,” he said, taking a step towards you, grabbing your hand.

You tried to snatch away from his grip. “Let go of me.”

“Not until you let me make it up to you,” he said, pulling you closer. You shoved him in the chest, but he didn’t budge. You felt sudden fear wash over you. You just wanted to get away from him and his disgusting touch.

And then suddenly, he was being pulled away from you by someone strong, stumbling backward. Your eyes widened as you saw who it was. “What the fuck are you doing?” asked Sehun calmly, looking at him levelly in the eye.

Your ex-boyfriend roughly pulled his arm away. “Why the fuck do you care?” he sneered. “Did he hurt you?” asked Sehun, looking at you. You shook your head, swallowing.

Your ex stared at you. “Who is this guy, Y/N?” Before you could reply, Sehun spoke. “I’m her husband,” he said, smiling. “So you better get the fuck away from her.”

He gaped at Sehun. And then at you. And then he laughed. “This is a joke, right? You’re telling me you left me and then immediately found this guy to fuck and marry? Shit, Y/N. I underestimated you. I didn’t think you were such a slu—”

He was cut off by Sehun punching him square in the jaw. “Oh my god, Sehun, stop!” you yelled, grabbing him to pull him back. Your ex-boyfriend’s eyes were alive in rage as he swung forward, aiming for Sehun’s face, but he ducked in time.

Just then, as if a godsend, Junmyeon ran out of the club, panting. “Hey, hey! Break it up, man,” he said, quickly stepping between the two men. Sehun’s face was calm, like it always was, but you could see the silent fury in his eyes.

Your ex spat on the ground, his lip bleeding. “You’re fucking crazy. All of you.” “Get lost,” you said in a low voice. “I mean it. I don’t want to ever see you again.”

And then you were pulling Sehun with you and walking away, Junmyeon following behind.

You winced as Sehun slammed the door of the apartment shut. “What a fucking asshole,” he muttered, throwing himself onto the couch.

“Thanks for sticking up for me back there,” you said, awkwardly sitting down next to him. He rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to thank me. It was just my first instinct. To protect you.”

You felt a blush creep up onto your cheeks. To your astonishment, Sehun also went red, as if he was surprised at his words.

“Look, I know this is probably going to sound really strange, but I don’t think I want this divorce any more,” he blurted.

You stared at him in shock. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I think I want to stay married. To you,” he said, turning away in embarrassment. “But why?” you asked, bewildered. Was there a chance...?

“I like you, okay?” said Sehun abruptly. “I like annoying you, and I like fighting with you, and I like sitting here doing nothing with you. This sounds cheesy as fuck, but it’s true. Yo-you make me happy. Even though I know I probably don’t show it at all.”

You started to smile. “I don’t want the divorce either. I want to try and make this work. Our marriage is probably the most unconventional and crazy thing that has ever happened in my incredibly boring life so far. I never realized how much I needed someone like you, Sehun.”

He started to laugh. “I seriously did not think it would come to this. What the hell do we tell the court now?”

“That we somehow fell in love over 6 months and decided to stay together?” you suggested. Sehun raised an eyebrow. “Did you just say the L-word?”

“Maybe,” you said, feeling dangerous as you scooted closer to him. He tilted his head slightly, his lips inches from yours.

“I don’t know how long I’ve held back,” he murmured, and then his lips were on yours, and your heart was alive.

When you pulled away from the kiss, breathless, you felt as though every nerve in your body was on fire. “Well, what do you want to do with 2 million dollars?” you asked, dazed. Sehun smirked. “Late honeymoon?” You giggled. “We really won the jackpot, didn’t we?”

“I know I did,” said Sehun. “I won you.”

You burst out laughing. “Dude, if you don’t stop being so sappy I might have to re-think that divorce.”

Sehun just grinned.

“I guess what happens in Vegas doesn’t really stay in Vegas, does it?”

A/N: I really really hoped you liked it as much as I loved writing it! Seriously, this was so much fun to imagine! Please do send me your thoughts :)

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mar-gega · 8 years ago

Text

Slow Hands

(A Smutty-ish Steve One Shot)

A/N: I should be getting ready for work, I should be writing It’s a Buck Girl Thing but it’s Steve’s birthday and the poor lad needs some loving! It’s quite smutty and inspired by Niall Horan’s Slow Hands

A/N 2: I wrote it quickly this morning and only checked it once so apologies for any mistakes!

Summary: After the events of Civil War, and Bucky gone, Steve does not want to celebrate. He wants to feel like a normal guy, meet a nice gal, have his way with her. He’s in Wakanda and it’s the 4th of July and everyone’s down to celebrate.

Warnings: Smutty undertones. Pet names. Steve’s neck.

Word count: 2.5k

With the events of last year Steve didn't feel like celebrating his birthday. It didn't help that on the 4th of July virtually everyone around him goes mad, whether it's for the annual parade, the overly patriotic house decorations, beyond ridiculous firework displays and just the usual All-American-In-Your-Face-World! celebrations. The whole splendour and excitement of the day didn't quite reach Steve. He had altogether different thoughts flying through his head. With Bucky gone under cryo, Steve felt a little lost. Considered a fugitive he would certainly not want to return to the US; hence why he declined Clint’s polite invitation to his farm for a family celebration. He was not in the right state to be scouring the world for ‘better, more quaint life’ like Natasha suggested. And he didn't want to get involved in reworking the Accords, which is what Sam ended up doing in DC.

No, Steve didn't want to Steve Rogers just yet. Since he'd been pulled out of that goddamn frozen lake his life has been nothing but chaos - fighting aliens, fighting HYDRA, fighting the government, fighting the once friends. He'd had enough and in an attempt to feel more human and normal he opted to sit in the corner of a somewhat quiet Wakandan bar, sipping on their strongest spirits. Of course he couldn't get drunk but the burn was real and the placebo effect might just do the trick tonight...

‘U! S! A! U! S! A!’ Chanted the group in the corner, TV in the bar showing the footage of the traditional New York parade. His eyes widened a little at noticing the smug face of Tony Stark, riding atop of a huge platform adorned with scantily clad women. Steve chuckled under his nose, seeing Tony’s ridiculous attempt to present himself as this billionaire playboy when Steve knew that nobody would ever have a hold on Iron Man’s heart like Pepper did.

The door of the bar opened and a small group of women walked in. Steve’s eyes wandered to the beautiful female figures and he sighed loudly. Oh, would there ever be a time when he can just be a man for a while? To just give into the primal urges, have his way with a gal, without having to overthink and overanalyse everything? Just one night of pure bliss and physical pleasure…

He stood up and walked to the bar, ready to ask for a glass of vodka - he needed something strong, he wanted to really feel the fire on his tongue!

‘God bless America!’ The crowd shouted as they each took a shot of alcohol. Steve shook his head and waited patiently for the bartender to make his way towards him; not before making sure the newly arrived ladies were looked after first.

‘Not a fan of celebrations, then?’ A husky voice sounded to Steve’s left. He turned his head ever so slightly, just managing a quick glance at the stranger before going back to swirling the melting pieces of ice in his glass.

‘I don't mind, so long there are things to celebrate…’ he replied. He heard an approving hum coming from her lips.

‘O-oh, you sad puppy, has someone done you wrong?’ She cooed. Steve noticed in the corner of his eyes that she leaned on the bar, and scooted a little closer to him in her chair.

‘Who's next?’ The bartender asked. Steve, ever the gentleman, motioned for the woman to place her order. He still tried his best not to look at her, he saw her reflection in the panels behind the bar and Steve knew she was way out of his league, and the moment he met her eyes he'd be under her spell.

‘Vodka on the rocks.’ She said to which Steve raised his eyebrow.

‘Good choice’ he murmured. The second the bartender stood the glass in front of the woman, she pushed it towards Steve.

‘You're welcome, big boy.’ The pet name did something to Steve. He turned left to face the stranger and he instantly regretted it.

She was sheer perfection. Extraordinarily beautiful face, gorgeous hair, beaming smile, and eyes that one might get lost in. It took him by surprise how badly and how instantly he was attracted to her. Much to his surprise she sent him a wide smile as she lifted her own glass of clear liquid.

‘A toast?’ She quirked her eyebrow.

Steve nodded.

‘To America.’ He sent her a small tight lipped smile and took a sip of his drink. Her brows furrowed in confusion.

‘No? Then how about to the worldly pleasures?’ Now that got him to smile a little wider.

‘Atta boy!’ She squealed in excitement and gently rubbed his forearm. It instantly sent shivers down his spine and his skin exploded in goosebumps. He cleared his throat loudly, trying to take back control of his body.

‘Cheers!’ They clang their glasses and Steve pretty much downed his drink in one go. The burn that spread down his throat was strangely sobering - he perked up a little and focused of the woman’s face again. Her girlfriends took seats on the table by the window and were now giggling loudly.

‘Don't you wanna get back to your party?’ Steve said, nodding in their direction.

‘Dance with me, handsome?’ She cooed, ignoring his question, and he chuckled under his nose. Eh, what did he have to lose? He stood up, and she grabbed his hand pulling him gently away from the bar. There wasn't a dance floor per se but there was some room around the corner of the bar and that's where Steve found himself swaying gently to the tune that was currently playing. "We should take this back to my place" That's what she said right to my face 'Cause I want you bad Yeah, I want you, baby I've been thinking 'bout it all day And I hope you feel the same way, yeah 'Cause I want you bad Yeah, I want you, baby

At first there were a few inches between them, touching only by hands, their fingers intertwined but a few beats in, she got her hips to move and closed the distance. Steve was now holding her hips, careful not to cross the line there (as much as his brain told him to!), she had her arms wrapped around his neck. She pressed her chest to his and her hand found its way to the back of Steve’s head. She spread her fingers wide and gently rubbed his scalp, a sensation that set him off groaning in pleasure. When else was he ever going to get touched in such a delicate way?

Slow, slow hands Like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry No, no chance That I'm leaving here without you on me I, I know Yeah, I already know that there ain't no stopping Your plans and those Slow hands (woo) Slow hands

He's used to having his hair gripped and being shoved into the wall amidst the dirty fight, but there she was - her fingers carding through his hair, her soft fingertips pressing along his scalp, tracing small circles.

‘Oh, god…’ he moaned into her ear, before throwing his head back in pleasure.

Just like she thought. She had him wrapped around her little finger. She took one look and noticed a man deprived of attention - a mission she was more than willing to take on.

‘Is that good?’ She cooed into his ear. Her breath skimmed over his earlobe and, again, goosebumps erupted on his skin.

‘So good…’ he whimpered, eyes closed.

‘We should take this back to my place…’ she whispered in his other ear, giving it the gentlest of kisses. Her lips traveled down the side of his neck, Steve's head moved even further back to allow her better access; she pecked his skin so delicately, it verged on the brink of tickling. This and the constant massaging of his scalp was sensory overload. All inhibitions out.

I just wanna take my time We could do this, baby, all night, yeah 'Cause I want you bad Yeah, I want you, baby

‘I'm gonna make you feel sooo good, baby. You'd like that?’ Her voice was like a drug, stripping Steve of all coherent thoughts, to nothing but the raw animalistic desire. He could feel the blood boil in his body, not to mention the ache that began to spread in his groin. She thrust her hips into him, testing the waters and was rewarded with a low growl of desperation.

Steve's hands tightened around her hips instinctively, he opened his eyes and looked at her, sure that his lust blown eyes were enough of an answer to her.

‘What is it going to be, big boy?’ He bit his lip at the name. All those pretty pet names seemed to have pulled something within him he didn't know was there. Under her spell he felt like a puppet on a string; he was ready to give out all the control to her.

‘Please…’ he whimpered in her ear as he leaned closer. One of his arms moved up to wrap around her back and bring her body even closer to him, the other moved down to cup her behind. And it was like her body was sculpted to fit his perfectly! He gave her cheek a gentle squeeze and she rewarded him with a moan of her own.

Fingertips puttin' on a show Got me now and I can't say no Wanna be with you all alone Take me home, take me home Fingertips puttin' on a show Can't you tell that I want you, baby, yeah

‘Good choice’ she mocked his earlier remark which made him smile widely. He didn't care about the obscene show the two were putting on for all bar to see. His hands roamed her figure, desperate to get a feel of all of her; angry that there were too many places he wanted to touch but not enough hands to do so. He was drunk on desire - he might be immune to alcohol but one thing the serum didn't take away from him was the ability to lust and want - the two feelings currently taking over his body.

The taxi ride was ludicrous, really. Two bodies entangled on the back seat, no inhibitions. She sat on his lap and let his fingers wander up and down her legs; his mouth latched onto her neck, but his kisses were not gentle like hers. No, he was more desperate - he sucked and bit every inch he could get his lips on, mewling quietly when being rewarded with having his scalp massaged. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and chuckled to herself. She, too, couldn't believe her luck. She really didn't want to go out to this boring work do but the second she laid her eyes on the beautiful blonde by the bar, she knew she was in for a different night, completely.

As soon as they got into her apartment, he was back on her neck.

‘A-ah!’ She pushed him off gently. He looked at her confused, big sad puppy eyes bored into hers. She caressed his cheek in her hand and examined him. He was breathless; his plump lips swollen red from all the kisses, his hair a mess and his eyes nearly pure black in lust.

‘Look at you, baby… So desperate…’ he blushed a little, not wanting to admit the true level of his desperation out loud. ‘It's ok, handsome, I'll be real good to you, just you wait…’ she smiled and pulled him towards the bedroom.

She stopped right by the bed and turned her back to him.

‘Unzip me?’ She cooed. Steve was acutely aware she was TELLING him what to do, but she always phrased it like a question to give him an out. That's what got him so desperate. He could've said ‘no’ any time but he didn't. He wanted just one night where saying ‘yes’ to things meant more pleasure, not more pain. Somewhere along the line agreeing to things in his life usually meant troubling consequences he would later have to live with. Not tonight.

As the zipper travelled lower, more of her body was getting exposed, and each inch made his smile grow wider. He marvelled at her perfect form, and he gasped loudly when the dress pooled at her feel, leaving her just in her underwear.

She turned and reached for his shirt, not failing to notice his knuckles getting white from clenching his fists at his side. She popped one button but, feeling a little sorry for him, stopped and reached for his hands and placed them on her waist.

‘It's all yours to play with, tiger, don't be shy on me now…’ she chuckled at this, releasing a relieved sigh.

Slow hands Like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry No, no chance That I'm leaving here without you on me I, I know Yeah, I already know that there ain't no stopping Your plans and those slow hands (woo) Yeah, these slow hands Woo, slow hands

She slowly worked on the buttons whilst his palms tried to map her body so that he remembers the night’s every single detail. She helped him take the shirt off completely, her fingertips skimmed over his big chest, working their way up to Steve's face. She leaned closer and kissed him. His eyes shut and he moaned into her mouth; pressing his body impossibly close to hers, he lost himself in the kiss completely. He didn't know how long it lasted, he just knew he was breathless and that his lips would be sore the next day.

She looked just as taken with it. She smiled through short breaths and locked her eyes with his baby blues.

‘Happy Birthday, Cap!’ She bit her lip teasingly to which his eyes grew wide in shock.

‘How did you…?’ He mumbled.

‘Relax, soldier… I just want to make you feel good tonight…’ she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and closed the distance, eyes still locked on his. ‘That's if you let me?’ She batted her lashes and smiled coyly, something he could not resist.

His gaze lowered to her lips and he moved for another desperate kiss.

‘Yes, please…’ he whispered in her ear. She released a content sigh. Because for every person desperate for affection there is always one craving nothing more than to lavish their affection on someone. And that's why in that moment in time Steve and her were just perfect for each other.

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