#I like them to be happy in the midst of angst I throw them into xD

[merlin-wolfgang-trades-hale]

“I may teeter the line between pretty stupid and pretty beautiful, but the important thing being is that I am always pretty!” a very tipsy but not exactly yet drunk, Steve McGarrett stumbling home wanting a smooch from his husband, having just been delivered by the other now out and proud navy buddied who’s op that night was getting Steve home because it’s the only way to shut him the fuck up about his Danno who he obviously missed so damn much, but it’s very much not Steve’s fault that this reunion fell around the same time Danny was getting back from Jersey after visiting for his sister’s birthday. 

Danny’s listening to him ramble about how one of his friends called Steve pretty annoying but Steve corrected him. 

The imagery could be added with Steve tripping and stumbling to the ground before ninja-ing(tipsy) onto the couch desting his head on Danny’s lap. Trying to get comfy and hug Danny while in this position. Telling him about his night, momentarily forgetting his goal before he’s reminded again and trying his best to get a kiss. 

[certaimromance]

࣪ ִֶָ☾. Cemetery Love.

Dean Winchester x Witch!reader

Summary: Ever since you accidentally discovered that Dean had made a deal and that his days were numbered, you've been trying to make every one of them unforgettable without telling him why. According to him, you're getting crazier and crazier, and according to Sam, you're in love.

Words: 2,9k.

TW: mentions of death, dealings with demons, witches (normal warnings in the series). spoilers for season 2 and 3. angst. fluff. the winchester brothers being chaos lol. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I love Dean and the Grumpy x Sunshine dynamic, so taking advantage of the sad plot of the deal and mixing it all up with confusion is one of my more chaotic ideas and I hope it turns out well haha.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

You closed the bedroom door behind you, careful not to make any noise that might wake the two brothers who were still sleeping peacefully in their beds. You left the groceries on the table and began to arrange everything to make it a perfect breakfast, the coffees you had bought, the muffin for Sam and the cake for Dean, the wild flowers you had made appear in the new vase you had created with your magic to give the table more vitality, and as a final touch you snapped your fingers and the curtains opened to let in the sunlight.

While you checked that everything was perfect, you stared at them for a few seconds, and the serenity with which they slept made you wonder if all the bad things that followed them were real. So many times you wanted to believe that your mind had played tricks on you, that the first time you saw Sam die was an illusion and that being alive after that was as normal as your magic. You didn't want to believe anything else had happened until you heard Dean talking to him when they thought you couldn't hear and you knew his days were numbered and he didn't want you to know.

That day, you wanted to scream at him that he was an idiot for selling his soul like that, and worse, for not telling you to find a spell to fix it. But the desperation in his voice as he repeated to his brother that you would look at him differently if you knew, and that it scared him more than anything else in the world, silenced you for weeks as you put your secret plan into action. You wanted each day to be better than the last for him as you searched every known coven for ways to avoid his death at all costs.

“Good morning, you lazy pair. It's time to wake up.” You spoke after several minutes of being lost in thought, watching them stir in their beds.

“Shut up, please.” Was all Dean said, pulling the blanket over his head to keep out the sun streaming through the window.

“Good morning to you too. Is that coffee and muffin I smell?” Sam sat up in his bed and looked gratefully at the table. “You're the best, thanks.” He added with a smile.

The best way to start a good day was with a good breakfast, you believed, and you knew the younger Winchester agreed, and that a little cheerfulness, sponsored by a little magic, couldn't hurt in the midst of monsters and supernatural cases. However, the other brother had been in a bad mood lately, and your positivity irritated him, especially when it came in the morning. Of course, he didn't know that the cheerfulness was fake, just an attempt to make him a little happy.

“Let's go! The day is beautiful today, the sun is shining and the birds are singing, all that deserves to be seen.” You said, giving Sam a smile to authorize him to throw a pillow to his brother. “It's so nice.”

You took a sip of your coffee and heard a groan from Dean as he received the pillow his brother had thrown at him. You let out a small mocking laugh.

“You know what's nice? Sleeping and not getting hit in the face by flying pillows.” He replied, finally sitting up grimly in bed, his eyes still closed.

“Be thankful, Winchester. I brought you a nice breakfast.” You said as you sat down in one of the chairs in the small dining room in front of Sam.

Finally, he opened his eyes and scanned you and then the table. He couldn't deny that his stomach rumbled and his mouth watered at the sight of the pie you'd bought. However, nothing took away the feeling of irritability and the headache from not getting the thousand hours of sleep he needed to be well.

“How can you be so happy and look so good in the morning?” He asked after looking at you from head to toe and snorting because you were all dressed up and glowing while he was still in his pajamas.

You raised your shoulders and heard Sam teasing his brother. At that moment, your cell phone vibrated and a message from Bobby asking you to call him caught your attention. You tried not to make the slightest grimace so the brothers wouldn't notice and worry.

“You two take a shower and get something to eat. I'll take a walk and wait for you to join me later.” You got up from your chair and walked briskly to the door.

“What the hell is wrong with her?” Dean asked as soon as the door closed behind you and the creaking sound it made echoed in his head.

“Wrong? She bought us breakfast and she's happy, I don't see anything wrong.” Sam replied, frowning at his brother's attitude. “You're just in a bad mood.”

“I'm not.” Dean replied with a snort, getting out of bed and sitting down in the seat you had used earlier. “She's being weird.”

Until the last few weeks, your behavior had been very different, and the eldest Winchester had noticed it the most. In the past, you barely laughed at his bad jokes or cast spells that weren't meant to save a life on a hunt. Now you smiled so much he was surprised your face didn't hurt, and your spells of pure joy seemed endless. It was as if you had been injected with positivity and vitality.

“She's just happy, it's nice that one of us is.”

At his brother's comment, Dean snorted and began to eat his pie uncomfortably. It wasn't that it bothered him that you were happy, because that was the only thing he could wish for you, it was more a resentment that he couldn't be the same way.

“I think she's in love.” Sam said and took a sip of his coffee.

Automatically, Dean's disinterest in the conversation ended and all his senses kicked in.

“Why? By whom? Since when?”

“Suddenly she is happier, she doesn't stop texting and doesn't let go of her phone, she suddenly disappears and never says where she went, she is much more concerned about her appearance, I have seen her get up earlier to put on makeup and she has asked me a thousand times if she looks good, she rejects every boy who approaches her and she buys us rich food just for the sake of it. The other day I even heard her humming a love song. She is definitely dating someone.”

His brother's full explanation made Dean frown even more and his stomach churn, even the urge to eat was taken away. He didn't like that none of it made any sense, no matter how much it did.

“Or she just went crazy.” He said, putting aside the pie he had been devouring.

“Are you jealous?” Sam asked with some mockery in his tone.

“No. Shut up.”

“Come on, are you still in love with her?” The hunter asked with narrowed eyes, trying to decipher his brother's feelings, even if he only got bad looks from him. “Don't make faces, you told me so.”

And it was true, because months earlier, Dean had gotten drunk in a dive bar after you had almost been seriously injured on a hunt and decided to turn in early. Your absence, combined with the unlimited drinks that a fake card got him, made him finally spill his guts, even his darkest thoughts, to his brother. Most importantly, he confessed that he had been in love with you for years.

“Forget about that night, I was drunk.”

“Everyone says drunks tell the truth and I remember everything you said that night.” Sam remarked, taking a minute to mentally go back to that moment. “Oh Sammy help, I think she cast a love spell on me because I can't get her out of my mind. I don't know what to do anymore.” He put on a high-pitched voice to imitate him and remind him exactly of his words.

“I never said that.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at his denial.

“Well, maybe I did say some things.” He finally admitted with some embarrassment. “But it was stupid.”

“Having feelings for someone isn't stupid, Dean. It's normal, and it was bound to happen to you sooner or later.”

He sighed and could feel the tension in his body rise. “Stop.”

“You can talk to me and...” Sam insisted again, trying to give him some understanding and reassurance, unaware that he was doing just the opposite.

It was definitely too much and made the eldest Winchester feel like a foolish, lovesick teenager chasing an unrequited love thanks to his brother's words. The whole situation infuriated him to no end, it seemed stupid and out of place when he was literally closer to death every day.

“I'm. Not. In. Love. With. Her.” He said slowly, punctuating his voice with every word. He had already lost his patience and only wished that Sam would leave him alone. “How could I fall in love with someone like that? Lately she's been so irritating and stressful. I don't need her songs, or her perfect smile, or her to buy us that damn dream breakfast. We're hunters, and we don't need a witch.”

As soon as he finished speaking and looked at his brother, he heard the door to the room slam shut, throwing an excessive amount of wind at them, almost knocking him out of his seat. It was then that he knew he was completely screwed.

“That was...?” He tried to ask with his voice somewhat shaky.

Dean didn't really need an answer, he knew you had heard him.

“You're an asshole.” That was all Sam said before he got up and walked to the door with the intention of talking to you.

“I'll go.” He said, grabbing his brother's arm and stopping him before he could leave. “I messed up...now pray I don't turn into a frog.”

“It's what you deserve.” Was the last thing Dean heard from his younger brother before he left the room and went to find you.

The sunlight and the sound of birds singing was the first thing he noticed when he left the room, it almost made him smile knowing that you had been right. It didn't take him long to guess that you were in the woods behind the motel, it was the kind of place you always said you found relaxing and probably where you would go when you wanted to get away. He walked quickly and after a few minutes he found you sitting on a rock, staring blankly.

“Get out of here, Winchester.” You said as soon as you felt his presence and heard the distinctive sound of his footsteps, without even turning to look at him. “Or I'll turn you into a rabbit.”

Dean almost smiled, he knew you liked rabbits.

“You have to listen to me, I'm sorry. I didn't mean...that. I didn't mean what I said.” He tried to explain in a confused way, unable to fully express himself. “It was a mistake.”

“What was a mistake, what you said or that I heard you say it?” You replied with irony in your tone, still not turning to look at him because you knew it would hurt.

“It was all a mistake, I shouldn't have said any of that because I don't believe it.” He replied, taking a few slow steps towards you to touch your shoulder. “Maybe I think you're acting weird, but I...”

“You what, Winchester?” You turned and walked away from his touch swiftly. There was something burning inside you from what you had heard and it was releasing everything you had been holding back. “You're going to tell me you don't need a witch because you're a hunter? Well, let me tell you yes because I'm the only one doing anything to save you from the damn deal you made!”

Finally, you stood up from the rock and looked him straight in the eye. You could see him turn pale and frozen at your words.

“How...how do you know?”

“I heard you talking to Sam.”

Once again, a conversation you weren't supposed to overhear had ruined everything for him.

“What have you done?” His tone was serious, there was not a hint of playfulness left, only concern.

Your lips were fully sealed for several seconds before you spoke. “It doesn't matter anymore.”

All the events of the last while began to flash through Dean's mind with speed and began to make a different kind of sense. Every argument his younger brother had given him about you being in love with someone and doing everything for that person made sense, only that someone was him.

“Tell me what you've done.” He repeated coming dangerously close to you. “I'm serious. I know you did something.”

It was so obvious that you couldn't stand by and do nothing to save him. So why didn't he ask for your help in the first place?

“That's why you bought me so much pie, you know I'm going to die. And the calls you make so much...what did you do?” He began to recapitulate all your strange attitudes in his mind and it bothered him that he hadn't noticed it before. “Tell me you haven't done anything stupid, please.”

“Doing so much for you when you don't appreciate it or care is the only stupid thing I've ever done in my life.” You tried to walk past him and leave, but he stopped you.

“You're going to tell me what you did and you're going to forget it.” He said firmly, never letting go of you for fear that you would leave. It was stupid, because he knew you could leave with a single spell if you wanted to. “Speak.”

You looked into his eyes for a few seconds and knew he meant it. He seemed more concerned about your actions than his own situation, and that confused you. You had heard him say how annoying you were and that he didn't need you, but your heart still pounded at his touch. You knew that if you confessed to him that you had been looking for ways to save him for months without caring about the consequences, you would look desperate and vulnerable, you didn't like it, but it was the truth.

“You don't want to talk? Fine, I accept that, but then you're going to stop whatever it is you're doing.” He said after waiting several minutes for you to speak and getting no response.

“But...”

“No buts, I'm serious. I don't want you to do anything, I didn't even want you to know about this before.” Dean sighed tiredly, as if he didn't know what to do. “And again, I'm so sorry for what you heard, it's not the truth and I only said it because Sam was bothering me. I do need you and know it, but not in this.”

“Why? It's my decision.”

“Listen to me for once in your life.” He moved closer until you could almost feel his breath and put a hand on your cheek. “I can lose myself, but I can't lose you, and you have to understand that or I'll go crazy.”

You froze in place, not knowing what to do or say.

“Please forget about it and go back to being yourself.” He finished.

“How am I supposed to do that? What am I supposed to do without you?” You asked, feeling your voice crack as you spoke. “I don't want to say goodbye.”

Dean didn't say anything, he just hugged you tightly, hoping that for once in your life you wouldn't fight. To his surprise, you clung to him and your fear of him disappearing became apparent. You lost count of how many times you heard him whispering to you to let it go, to focus on the present, and that he was with you now, kissing your forehead and repeating that everything was okay.

“Will you turn me into a rabbit if I kiss you now? Be honest.” He asked as soon as he was able to pull away from you a little to look into your eyes.

“Honestly? No. Would I like to? Yes.”

One of his hands rested on your waist and the other tangled in your hair, pulling you closer to him and finally shortening the small distance that separated you. You saw him smile for a few seconds before he placed his lips on yours, letting you know that you had indeed lost your mind. His movements were soft and slow, something you had never imagined from him before, and it surprised you for the better. He seemed to be making an effort to be gentle and that, combined with the sweet taste the pie had left on his lips, had you hypnotized.

Time flew, and almost as if under a spell, you broke the kiss only when your human need for oxygen appeared. You could only guess that it had been a while because his lips were red and he seemed as agitated as you were. All you knew was that you had waited a long time for this and that the possibility of losing him was a thousand times more terrifying now.

“Part of me has been grateful all along to know that I will die before you.” He spoke, and you looked at him as if he were completely insane, because he probably was. “Really, don't look at me like that.”

“Sure, you always want to win and go first.” You rolled your eyes, tried to fake a laugh, and hugged him tighter.

“No, I just can't imagine life without you, my sweet witch.”

[hellishjoel]

say my name 

8.5k / pairing: brat tamer!joel miller x f!reader

psycho masterlist main masterlist

summary: It’s Joel’s birthday, and his brother, Tommy, is in town to celebrate. You meet the more charming Miller for the first time, and the two of you flirt up a storm. By the end of the night, Joel’s pissed and jealous. But that doesn’t stop you from moaning Tommy’s name in bed. 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, brat tamer!Joel, somewhat established relationship (whatever that relationship may be ((situationship, relationship, etc.)), toxic!couple, swearing, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, slapping, degradation, praise kink, spitting, choking, blood, marking kink, creampie, pussy smacking (??), lots of dom!joel brought out by jealous!joel, overstimulation, Tommy being a flirt, angst, mentions of being cheated on, Joel being a menace, unprotected p in v (wrap your willy or whateva), half-ass editing tbh

A/N: happy birthday to Joel Miller!! I was picturing this entire prompt with pixel Joel, thanks to @macfrog - this part is based off this request sent in! 

You did a lot of stupid things tonight. Wearing your shortest dress, stalking Joel to his hangout with Tommy, flirting with his brother for the majority of the night. But now, you were ready to do the stupidest thing yet.  You moan into his ear, your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as you feel your orgasm begin to approach. “Fuck me, Tommy.” It hits Joel like a ton of bricks. All his movements pause. He pulls away just half an inch and stares down at you. A cold, downright mean look crosses his face once you’ve popped your eyes open to take a look at him. The room suffocates you in silence.  “What did you say?”

September 26th, 2023. It’s Joel’s forty-second birthday!

The thought alone riles you awake. You love birthdays. You especially love when it’s Joel’s birthday because he hates his birthday. You have no idea why, he looks more and more handsome with each year that he blows out a candle. 

You think about these things curled up into his side, chin on his chest while your fingers lightly grazed over his stippled grey chest hair. It was barely past the early morning hours. You gently trace over the etched lines in his forehead and between his brows. He must scowl at you even in his sleep. You should be asleep, too, especially after having spent the late hours of September 25th celebrating the end of Joel’s forty-first year with a bang. Literally.  

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, clutching his comforter to your bare chest as your panties are just out of reach on the floor a few feet from the bed. You huff and flee the warmth of his bed to retrieve them in as much silence as you can muster, watching him carefully let out a puff of air through his parted lips before lightly rolling over and spooning your pillow in the process. You stifle a giggle as you grab his t-shirt he threw off in the midst of getting handsy with you last night. 

“Happy last day of being forty-one, old timer.”

“Shut up and bend over.”

He always did have a way with words. 

You managed to sneak downstairs without Joel catching you in his arms. Your bare feet meet the cold tile of his kitchen floor. 

Joel’s home looked like you might imagine. Dark walls, not exactly black but not exactly grey or navy. He has a desk, a messy one that is littered with bills and invoices scattered with pencils that had the erasers shaved down to nothing. There was a large flat screen mounted to the wall, and a television console below it filled with old vinyl records and random CDs. He did have a few plants scattered around, and he actually took very good care of them. There were a few dishes in the sink from dinner last night. Empty beer cans on the half-wall by his back garage door. His keys and wallet were thrown haphazardly on the counter. 

These are the things that make you adore staying at Joel’s place, it was so homey and cozy. These were the things that made Joel, Joel. 

You throw your hair up and out of your way, finding the box of cake mix you stashed in the back of his pantry for this very special occasion. And just like that, you were a chef in Joel’s kitchen. Or was it a baker? 

Despite your best efforts, the cake was just a mess. And there were no redoes with cakes. And when you were shopping, you were thinking a little too much about yourself rather than Joel, so the cake was coated in pink icing. It was a shit cake, but you hoped Joel would like it. He wasn’t a guy with a big sweet tooth, but you’d force him to have a slice since this was your labor of love. 

U CAN’T PICK YOUR FATHER BUT U CAN PICK YOUR DADDY was lettered with red icing and cute pink assorted sprinkles. 

The smell of freshly baked cake woke him up. 

“You burnin’ somethin’?” Joel’s tired voice echoed in the kitchen. 

He was wearing grey sweats and his black boxers, the band peaking out from the top of his waistband as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. He looked like a big oaf fresh from sleep, shuffling past you to the oven and turning on the fan to air out the smoke and smell. 

“Ha-ha. Nothing’s that burnt. It’s your birthday cake!” You cooed as you showed him what you made. 

The word birthday was enough to make him roll his eyes. 

“Didn’t have to make me anythin’. Just another day.” He muttered but came up behind you to take a look at the cake nonetheless. You watched with a proud smile as the left side of his mouth quirked up upon reading the design. 

“Do you like it?” You asked, turning your back to the counter and letting his hips pin you there. His large, warm palm settled low on your waist. You watch as he swipes his index finger into the frosting, observing the sugary cream before his eyes set on yours. His orbs are as black as night as he offers you a taste. 

You maintain his eye contact as you lean in and wrap your mouth around his finger, hollowing your cheeks as you suckle it off and lap your tongue around the tip before letting him go with a soft smirk. 

“Like it ‘cause you made it. That’s all.” Joel’s chest hums as he speaks, his head ducking down to catch your lips in a delicate kiss. The delicate part doesn’t last for long. His kisses turn heavy, and his cock hardens against your thigh as he bends you backward against the counter. 

Your nails catch his shoulders in a desperate attempt not to smash into the cake. You know that if he gets too into this, he’ll end up pushing it aside so radically that your creation will end up on the floor, so you quickly nudge it out of reach before continuing. 

He’s hungry, his tongue lines your bottom lip, still coated in a sugary taste, before he explores the inside of your mouth dominantly. You’re whimpering in excitement as his possessive hands lift you up onto the counter, your baking instruments clattering around you and rolling, making a complete mess, but you don’t care. It’s Joel’s birthday, after all. 

You gasp into his mouth as he cups your clothed pussy and gently pats his fingers against you. The sensation makes your head fall back, and your eyes flutter closed. Your lips part just a fraction, Joel takes the opportunity to slip his tongue back inside to wrestle with your own. He pats you again, and you feel your panties grow a wet spot as white heat pools your insides. 

“Just how I like it, ready to be taken like a little slut in the mornin’.” His rigid voice growled, suppressing you of any strength you had left to resist collapsing across the counter. 

Both of you pause, irritated facial expressions matching when Joel’s phone starts to ring. 

Your heavy pants mingle in the air between you with indecision. You glare at him as he moves half an inch away, the grip on his shoulders tightening in need. Don’t pick it up, Joel. 

He closes his lips and lightly squints at you in disapproval as he stands up straight and starts toward his phone. You throw your head back and groan, slipping your hand over where his fingers just ghosted over the material of your panties. You lick your lips and watch him as he takes the call. He looks over the screen at the contact, his eyes shift to you. He’s hesitating. Not because he’s left you hot and heavy on the kitchen counter, but because he’s shielding his phone from you. 

So help me god, motherfucker, if I find out you’re cheating on me, I will-

Your nerves are settled when he huffs and swipes right to answer the call. “‘ey Tommy.” After a beat, Joel rolls his eyes to himself. “Yeah, yeah, thanks. Just another day.” 

Your eyes blink slowly. It was his brother you had yet to meet. You hum lightly as you sink your hand past the band of your panties, soft lace grazing your knuckles while you slip your fingers between your delicate folds. You slowly pry open the one foot you have kicked up on the counter, spreading your leg wider so Joel can see you playing with yourself. He’s still not looking. You need his attention. 

“Yeah, we can do somethin’, if that somethin’ means you’re payin’ for beers at the bar.” He said with a tired, but playful smirk. You’re growing so wet at the sight of him. Your fingers make a squelching noise as you slowly push two fingers inside your aching hole. This catches his attention. 

His head whips to you like a prowling lion hearing a twig snap. His eyes narrow on the target of the noise before they dart up to you. You know that look. 

Take your hand out of your fuckin’ panties. Don’t you fuckin’ touch yourself. 

You cock your head with an attitude. “Say it with your chest.” You pipe up, so loud that the voice on the other line chirps in. 

“Who was that?” You smirk at the attention Tommy’s already given you. 

“Hi, Tommy!” You shout, and now Joel’s really pissed. He comes up and clamps his hand over your mouth, glaring daggers into your big doe-eyed pupils. 

“Is that your girl, big brother?” 

Joel’s jaw clicks tighter, his breath coming out in hot, annoyed puffs through his aquiline nose. 

“You hidin’ her from me? Invite her to drinks tonight!” Tommy shoots out the invite before Joel can take it away. You slowly lick up the hand that’s holding your mouth hostage. Joel is used to this. He only adds more pressure to his hold on your mouth. 

He glares at you and juts his jaw around in annoyance, considering Tommy’s offer. “Yeah.. yeah, we’ll see,” Joel murmurs while you keep tonguing his hand. He gives your face a little slap, a stupid moan escaping your lips before he grips your cheeks again once more and covers your mouth. 

Don’t forget who’s in charge here, little bitch. 

You hum quietly against his hand and wrap your legs firmly around his hips. He stumbles forward half a step. You can feel his hardened length protruding from his gray sweats, your cores lightly grinding against one another as you purposely whimpered against his palm. 

Not long after, Joel ends the phone call with Tommy, and he begrudgingly releases his slobbery hand from your mouth and pushes back from the hold you attempted to lock him in. You huff as he leaves the kitchen, watching as he rakes his fingers up and down his beard and gently scratches at the skin. What was up with him? 

“We’re going out for drinks tonight?” You pester after you both have taken a shower for far too long, the steam fogging up his mirror and making Joel’s skin a light rosy pink. 

He lets out a short sarcastic chuckle. “I’m goin’ out tonight. You’re stayin’ here.” 

You frown as you look Joel over, his stern facial expression matching his tone. 

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, I’m going out tonight. With you. This is the third time I’ve tried to meet Tommy in person and-”

“And nothin’.” He intercepts, venom dripping from his words that makes your throat become scorching hot with anger. 

You have a hard time letting this go. Especially since whenever Tommy was in town, Joel magically came up with every excuse in the book to keep you from properly meeting his younger brother. Was Joel ashamed of you? He didn’t want Tommy to think that this was the type of girl Joel kept in his company. He didn’t want you to embarrass him. That’s always what it came down to. 

You brushed past him, your shoulder laying a heavy hit to his arm as you fled the bathroom with haste. You enter his bedroom and find your bag carrying your clothes for the weekend. You pulled on whatever you could find as hot rage made your skin tingle.

“Where you goin’, angel?” Joel tries to half-ass console you, stopping your movements, taking the keys you had just dug out from the depth of your bag, and holding them up so tall they were out of your reach even on your tippy toes. 

“Give them back, Joel.” You had a burning feeling in your chest, and Joel was fighting with fire. 

He just shakes his head, his eyes looking over you with a tight jawline. “Need you to relax. Last time you got this pissed at me, you keyed half of my fuckin’ truck.” He muttered, your eyes narrowing on his as you crossed your arms. 

“And I’ll key the other half if you don’t give me back my-”

“Keys?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow, wiggling the keychain with the cute dangly accessories on it and making you absurdly annoyed. You swallow a lump that’s growing in your throat. Joel sighs and cautiously brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek. You hate denying how comforting it is when his warmth courses through your body like this. 

“Why won’t you let me meet your brother?” It sounds more whimpery than you intended, big soft eyes looking into Joel’s hardened ones. “I mean, I know we’re not anything serious, but we’ve been together for a while, and it’s your birthday, and I know that you hate that it’s your birthday, but I love your birthday, and I sort of love you, and I want to meet the people you care the most about.” 

The room tenses as your eyes connect. Shit. That’s how you chose to tell him? That you sort of loved him? Fucking idiot. 

Joel pauses before he starts slowly shaking his head, and your chin dips defeatedly. You think he’s shaking his head because he doesn’t feel the same way, he doesn’t sort of love you like you sort of love him. How could he? Your emotions for one another were a mangled mess. One night, you were fighting like cats and dogs, and both of your eyes lit up during the heat of yet another fight. Then the next night, you were begging him not to stop fucking you, to never leave you, to never betray the trust you had in him that you two had built together over time. 

His thumb delicately courses up your cheekbone then gently across the arch of your chin. His hand moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in until you’re close enough he can set a delicate kiss on the crown of your head. This was what made it so confusing. Were you still fighting? Were you two making amends? 

“You’re not meetin’ Tommy. Not tonight. That’s final.” His words are whispered but somehow still piercingly cold, his voice monotone and flat as he forbade you from meeting his brother.  “Want you here when I come back so we can celebrate together. Just you and I.” 

A frown etches into your features. More like so he could have a warm body to fuck on his birthday. 

He brushes by you and starts his day like any other. He didn’t even say he sort of loved you back. 

---

Did he really think you’d give up without a fight? 

You managed to convince Joel that you were fine without meeting Tommy tonight, that maybe he just wanted some brotherly time together. He leaned into that shit-ass excuse like it was his last lifeline. He could care less about his familial bond, he just wanted you not to be fucking pissed off. But you were pissed off. And you looked hot pissed off. 

You especially looked hot and pissed off in the skin-tight dress you wore, accompanied by the designer clutch Joel purchased for your last birthday. 

You’d assume that the hardest part of your little plan was knowing which of the many bars Joel and Tommy could make their trek to. But Apple Air Tags came in a bundle of four, so you slipped one into Joel’s truck. What else were you going to do with the extra ones? Might as well put them to use. 

You took a car service to the downtown Austin brewpub, Blue Owl Brewing. Let’s just say you were a bit dressed up for the establishment. 

You spotted Joel sitting at a small table in the back, facing the entrance of the bar as you strolled in with a devilish smirk on your face. His large hand was nursing a tall glass of amber-colored beer, a wide and genuine smile on his lips as he jeered conversation back and forth with Tommy, whose back was to you. 

You slowly made your way through the dark oak bar, Joel’s eyes connecting with yours almost immediately. He looked like he could break you in half the way his eyes narrowed on you. But Joel was smart. He didn’t let much of his anger or annoyance seep through, because the damage was already done and you were already here. 

“Hi, Joel,” you innocently coo before resting your hand on his brother’s bicep. “You must be Tommy?” You ask with a smile so sweet it was probably giving Joel a toothache. He was taking a long, steady drink of his beer, the foam lightly frosting his mustache as he observes you with cautious eyes as you interacted with his brother. 

Tommy looked starstruck by your beauty. His eyes don’t hold back from lightly grazing over your short dress and the exposed skin that accompanies it. “Aren’t you a beauty,” he pauses and looks to his brother with a small smirk of disbelief that his brother could bag a catch as hot as you. “You must be Joel’s girl he keeps me from.” 

His comment makes you giggle, your hand cascading down his bicep to his forearm, your nails lightly adding pressure which makes Joel’s stature more domineering, even from across the table. 

Tommy was younger, with medium-length dark curly hair and a mustache that mirrored Joel’s. But he doesn’t have Joel’s beard, the facial hair you’ve grown to love. His mouth carries a dangerous little smirk, and it hasn’t left since you joined their table. He was handsome, it was a family trait the two brothers shared. 

“Please, sit down, beautiful.” 

You hum softly at the compliment, watching as Tommy grabs a nearby barstool from a table close by and sits you down at the end of the table, between both Tommy and Joel. 

“Joel, I thought you said your girl couldn’t make it out tonight?” Tommy inquires, waving down the waitress to come and get you a drink. 

“Oh, did he?” You ask curiously, crossing one leg over the other and lightly leaning over the table as your breasts nearly spill out of your dress. Your eye contact with Joel was on fire. He was torn between chewing you up and spitting you out right here in the middle of the bar, or dragging you away and ripping off this too-short dress of yours. 

You and Tommy were quickly buzzing with conversation. He was buying you cocktails and complimenting you every chance he could get. If you didn’t know any better, he was flirting with you openly in front of his older brother. Joel didn’t say much, a grunt here and there, a swift kick under the table to Tommy’s kneecap after he talked a little too much about the gorgeous curves of your body. 

“Just can’t believe you are datin’ my brother, didn’t know he could score someone so-” As Tommy attempts to find the words, his warm palm settles on your thigh, dangerously high too. He takes an inch or two of your dress with it, and your breath snags in your throat. You can’t deny the jaded way you feel about it, feeling a hot flash course through your body as you feel your head flush with heat. 

“Watch it.” Joel finally mutters coherently. Perfectly coherent. Like he needs Tommy to hear it crystal clear. No one touches you. 

Tommy seems to like the rise out of Joel just as much as you do. Which is perhaps why you’re leaning into it.

“You’re too kind, Tommy, really.” You take his hand off your thigh and maneuver it back into his lap. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the one Joel has to deal with, not the other way around.” You tease, and Tommy lets out a drunk laugh. 

“Trust me, gorgeous, if you were my girl, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. That was Joel’s first mistake tonight, leavin’ you at home.” 

Your eyes soften, and you glance over to Joel. He’s damn near snarling the way he’s gritting his teeth and staring daggers into Tommy. You had never seen him so possessive before. 

“That’s enough out of you,” Joel remarks as he heavily sets down the empty pint glass and shuffles his barstool back, letting out a screeching scrape. 

“We’re leavin’,” Joel tells you, making your jaw tick tighter. Where did he get off telling you what to do?  

“I don’t think I-”

“Now.” He says more seriously. The giddy feelings you shared with Tommy were now squashed under the weight of Joel’s boot. You decide to hop off the barstool and call it a night, for both of our sakes. You accomplished your mission, met Tommy and disobeyed Joel. So let’s leave while we’re ahead. 

You turn to Tommy, who is also stepping down from the barstool and putting cash on the table to cover the tab. “It was nice meetin’ you, sugar. Take care of my big brother, will ya?” He asks as he settles his hands warmly on your waist and pulls you in for a kiss on your cheek.  

Heat sets your body alight. Tommy was gentle, if not even a bit calculated with his movements. Why did all of a sudden you feel like the pawn in Tommy’s game rather than the other way around? 

“Goodnight, Tommy.” You whisper with a tight-lipped smile, taking Joel’s hand and letting him guide you out of the brewery. 

---

The ride home in the truck was quiet. Real fuckin’ quiet. You tried to be content just listening to the low volume of the radio or the soft rumbling of his truck. You went to switch the station off of country and more to something you liked, but Joel smacked the volume to mute, making you groan. You grew so bored that you started counting the random tar lines in the road, adding to the total with each one you passed over. You stopped counting after fifty, or so. 

“Joel-”

“Enough.” 

He doesn’t let you speak. It makes your blood boil. 

“If you just-”

“I said enough, god dammit. Don’t you think you’ve done enough tonight?” His words cut sharp, and you feel as small as you did this morning. This morning after you confessed that you sort of loved him. He’s breathing in heavy puffs, and he’s driving faster as he tries to get both of you back to the house. 

“Why are you going so fucking fast?” You finally ask. You’re already in deep shit, you don’t care about him telling you to shut up. He ignores you for a moment before you probe him again. “Joel?” You ask with an annoyed tone. His eyes finally meet yours in a quick glance. 

“Getting you home and out of that fucking dress.” He mutters, his large palm reaching across and cupping harshly at your upper thigh. A whiny gasp leaves your mouth as his fingers dig deliciously into your flesh. So that’s what’s got him driving so damn fast. 

He pries your leg open, and he takes one look at how beautiful you look. More importantly, he’s looking at your lacey panties. 

“Red. Perfect for you. Like the fuckin’ devil.” 

You smirk as you grip his wrist and guide his hand to your clothed mound, a weak sigh leaving his lips as he cups over the wet spot that was forming just for him. Joel didn’t have to put in much work for you to be on the edge for him. 

“I fucking hate you, Joel.” 

He puffs out another breath of air through his nose. His way of laughing lately. 

“Fuckin’ hate you more, baby.” 

He toys with your panties for the remaining minutes of the drive, your nails having sunk so hard into his arm that you’re drawing small bits of blood from the moon-shaped cuts. 

He damn near hauls you out of the truck once you’re parked. You leap into his arms as soon as the two of you walk past the threshold of his front door. 

You force him to walk blindly through the house. He’s easily holding you up by one arm as you tighten your legs around his waist, causing your dress to ride up from the tension. You kiss him in a clash of teeth and tongues. You’re both ferociously horny for one another. And he’s pissed. 

“Flirtin’ with my brother all fuckin’ night? You have fun with that?” He mutters against your mouth, slamming you up against the wall with a thud as your breath nearly knocks out of you from the force. He takes the opportunity of you planted there to grab the hem of your dress and push it up and off your body. His mouth latches to your exposed breasts, a throaty moan leaving your mouth as your small fists take him by the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Fuck,” you let out breathily, throwing your head back against the wall and humming lowly. 

“Answer me.” He ruts his hips up against your core, and you’re painfully aware of how naked he’s making you and how clothed he still is. 

“He’s actually really nice-” He suckles harder on your nipple, forcing a hiss out of your mouth. “Think I might trade in my older model for something younger.” Your tone is teasing, but the words are enough to make him detach from your nipple, a sinister look wavering his features cold.  

He sneers and tilts his head to the side and back before shaking his head slowly. “I don’t think so.” 

He rips you from the safety of the wall, your hands quickly scrabble to his shoulders to keep yourself upright while he leads you up the stairs to his bedroom. His heavy boots thud menacingly. You try to hide your smile in the crook of his neck, leaving angelic kisses on his neck and marking him with your lipstick, knowing how good Joel is about to make you feel. 

He tosses you onto the bed like a ragdoll, your bare body finds warmth in his sheets. You admire him from below as he pulls his shirt off by gripping the material at the back of his neck and hauling it off him in one swift motion. The sight alone makes your pussy ache and your insides churn. 

God, he was so handsome. He had this soft bulk to his body that expanded from the hardened planes of his chest and toned tummy to the light bulge in his biceps. His chest hair was a sprinkle of dark black stippled with light grey hairs that became sparse before trickling to a thicker patch, creating his happy trail.  

Holy fuck, he looked like he was going to devour you. 

Joel wasted little time with formalities. He had your legs parted, the rough denim of his jeans grinding against your soft skin. His tongue explored your mouth while both of his palms massaged the supple plushness of your breasts. He was pinching your nipples between his fingers, making you whine into his mouth for relief while they hardened in his hold. 

You slip your hands between your middles, fingertips gently trailing down to capture the button of his jeans and push down his zipper. You have to wiggle around a bit, as Joel is pinning you to the spot. You’re so desperate for him that it almost turns into a fight to get his jeans off. He tugs on your bottom lip, a light whimper leaving you upon tasting the metallic tang of blood fill your mouth. 

You smack Joel’s arm until he releases you, huffing at him. 

“Asshole.” You mutter.

He sneers at you as he places a delicate kiss to your lips in apology. “That’s what cunts get.”  He mutters under his breath. The term makes you flinch, your hand coming up to give him a good smack across the face, but he captures your wrist and pins it back to the bed. You both eagerly consume one another in a desperate kiss. You think you see him smiling as he tastes the light scrape of blood he’s caused. 

Joel moves his weight to his forearms and aids you in the ongoing war between you and his pesky jeans. With his weight off you, you easily push down his jeans and his black boxers, your feet pushing down the last of the material around his ankles. He sits back on his haunches, heavy hands gripping the sides of your panties as he pulls them down your legs, leaving you bare with him. 

You immediately slip out of the hold he has on your wrist and put your hand between your legs. Your fingers move eagerly between your glistening folds and slick them up with arousal. He smacks your hand away and pins your wrist to the bed once more. So fucking disobedient. 

Once he settles between you, a soft gasp escapes your lips once you feel his thick shaft landing heavily against your sex. He was thick and ready for the taking, his tip was red with anger and need. 

“You were a real fuckin’ handful tonight.” He mutters, letting his tip slide up and down your glistening folds. You were not in the mood for teasing. 

You grit your teeth and glare up at him. “I think Tommy agreed.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He growls, your chest rising and falling quickly. He takes notice as your body tingles with excitement. 

“Such a pain in my goddamn ass sometimes, more trouble than your worth.”

“Why don’t you toss me to Tommy then, huh? That way I can see which Miller brother fucks me better.” You sneer, a sloppy smirk crossing your features. It’s harshly stripped from you as Joel takes your face and squishes your cheeks with the grip of his hand. Your eyes clench closed at the slight pain, feeling him angle your head to face him. He’s power-hungry. 

“Open those eyes, pretty girl.” His voice is rocky and lust-filled, dangerous like gasoline. It takes a moment, but you flutter them open. You didn’t realize that you were holding onto Joel’s puffed-up biceps, hard as a rock under your hold. 

He slowly scans you, up and down, weighing his options of how to handle you. The problem that you were. His little brat. “You wanna cum tonight?”

Your ultimate weakness. A sheepish whimper leaves your squished lips, trying to blink back the slight tears that are forming from his manhandling. Mascara stings your eyes, but you hold his eye contact, because he asked you to, because it’s Joel, and you’d do anything for him at the end of the day. 

You manage an “Mhm, please.” Joel’s eyes soften as he comes back to you and your warmth. 

He doesn’t say anything, just angles his hips just right since you two fit perfectly together and thrusts inward. The breath in your lungs is punched out, head grinding back into the bed as your chin angles to the ceiling.  You hiss at the initial discomfort that his thick cock causes. He’s fucked you a million times, but there’s nothing better than the first thrust where you’re still adjusting to his size, his girth, his length, his everything. 

The clamp his hand has on your cheeks eventually releases, shifting the weight back to his forearms as his head settles above yours. He places another gentle kiss on your lightly swollen bottom lip. His loving reassurance warms your body. He’s starting steady, honorably letting your arousal take the lead in getting you both lubed up. He feels like heaven coursing through your tight hole, making himself the perfect fit for you. 

You wrap your arms around his neck a little too tight, bringing him down into you as he breathily laughs against your ear. 

"Y'know, it's kinda hard to be rough with ya when you're bein' so sweet."

Your chest heaves with his words, a sudden and impactful sense of vulnerability passing through you. It makes you nervous. It makes your skin swelter with warmth and makes a bead of sweat form at your temple. You and Joel don’t have this type of warmth in your relationship. Warm in the sense of boiling, too hot, too much, screaming and shouting and fighting and kissing. Not this. Not the gentle thrusts lightly rocking into you, letting you adjust to him, pulling him in for a gentle embrace as you capture him in a needy hug. 

You’re not the I love you type, yet you said it to him this morning. Sort of. You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly shake your head. 

You remind yourself that he didn’t say it back this morning. He wasn’t saying it now. Was he just using you? No.. no, it wasn’t that. But he wasn’t going to let you meet his family. He wasn’t going to say he loved you. He wasn’t going to marry you if that’s even what you wanted right now. It wasn’t. But you couldn’t deny you thought about your future with Joel. Even with all the fighting, the anger, the jealousy, it was all out of love. But maybe that love was one-sided. 

The arms you had draped around his neck turned into sinking your nails into the base of his back. You slowly began scraping them upwards and forming long, raised red lines in their path. Joel grunts and hisses at the burn he’s feeling, broad shoulders tightening and his hips snapping into you more ferociously now. 

Your lower lip trembled with anger, but you didn’t let him see as you pushed his head down to your breasts. He took the hint with a broken moan as he suckled a bruise on your collarbone. 

The pain of his thrusts turned into numbing pleasure, his tip kissing your cervix with each and every heavy snap of his thrusts. 

“Fuck yeah, Joel,” you moan. You stroking his ego only makes his movements more methodical, one of his hands pushing your leg down onto the bed rather than snaking around his waist and exposing you to a new angle that left you searching for air. Joel returns his forehead to rest over yours, both of your sweat glistening. You stare into his eyes, and all you feel is anger and regret for saying you loved him. He was fucking you so good too, you both had never gone as slow as you had at the start. It was twisting the coil inside of you so smoothly, that your brain was getting foggy. 

You did a lot of stupid things tonight. Wearing your shortest dress, stalking Joel to his hangout with Tommy, flirting with his brother for the majority of the night. But now, you were ready to do the stupidest thing yet. 

You moan into his ear, revenge and regret swirling inside of you like an insidious tornado. Your eyes flutter close in pleasure as you feel your orgasm begin to approach. “Fuck me, Tommy.”

It hits Joel like a ton of bricks. All his movements pause. He pulls away just half an inch and stares down at you. A cold, downright mean look crosses his face once you’ve popped your eyes open to take a look at him. The room suffocates you in silence. 

“What did you say?” His voice is slow, slick with a cursed concoction of lust and fury. 

Too far. Way too fucking far. 

You pause as you try to recollect yourself, having just been nearly blinded by your approaching orgasm. “I- I said Joel,” Now you were just trying to convince yourself that you didn’t accidentally or not accidentally just moaned his brother's name in bed. “I-”

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.” He mutters, chest puffed up and muscles straining with veins like thick rivers coasting up his arms. 

He starts slow. His hand shifts to fasten around your throat, and with each word that leaves him, his grip tightens. “Tell me… what you said.” He speaks through gritted teeth, eliciting a whimper from you as he snarls. 

You swallow a lump in your throat, cold goosebumps flooding over your previously scorching hot skin. You were starting to feel the neglect from his lack of thrusts, whining softly as you tried to grind your hips up into his. 

His large palm slams into your hip with force and pins you to the bed, letting out a whine of annoyance. 

“You want Tommy fuckin’ you instead? Huh?” His jaw is tight and only clicking tighter as he stares daggers into you. Fuck, you were only flooding him with more of your arousal. You purposely flexed your tight walls around the swell of his cock. 

“N-No, Joel -- fuck -- want you.” You whimper out as your hands soften on his shoulders, and you gently cup his face. He shakes his head loose of your hold, annoyance and anger still shooting up his spine. 

“I don’t think you do, pretty girl, think you want someone else. Tommy.” His hips were thrusting again, harsh snaps that physically rocked your body up the bed with force that made your jaw drop. Fuck he felt so damn good. The lack of air was making your head swirl. 

You took in a sharp breath as he manhandles your face once more, forcing you to look at him. “Dirty fuckin’ slut, you want both of us, don’t you?” Well, you can’t deny the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. He licks his lips before he spits on your face, lathering you in his saliva as you gasp in shock. 

“J-Joel,” your words can’t come out smooth with how roughly he’s fucking you. His hips are slamming your thighs, and the bedframe is smacking the wall with all his might. “Fuck-ing- shit,” you throw your head back now up into his pillows and try to grip onto the sheets to maintain your position. That coil that was smoothly coursing you towards a gentle orgasm was long gone, as was Joel’s right mind. Now the coil was tightening and nearly breaking, your mind going blank and seeing stars. 

“Say my name,” Joel grunts, his hand coming up and smothering the saliva he spat on your face. It runs black with your mascara tears and messy red lipstick before he brings his hand back to your throat. 

You breathe heavily as your mind tries to connect syllables and make a coherent word. “I- I..” You can’t focus, and Joel punishes you for it. He spits on you again, hot and warm on your face, and all you can picture is if it was his cum showering you instead. “Fuck!” You shout at him. He takes the opportunity of your mouth open to speak, forcing two fingers inside. 

“Suck’em, pretty little bitch,” Joel mutters, watching you with eyes from hell. 

You whimper and suckle around his fingers, trying not to choke on them, focusing all your energy on trying not to get in more trouble. You line your tongue up and down both digits, tasting him, tasting Joel. He pulls his fingers from you with force and leaves your own saliva dribbling out of your messy mouth and down your chin. 

He puts his slimy fingers to use and starts slowly circling your clit. Your eyes light up, wide, and you grip onto his bicep for desperation. “P-Please, too much, Joel,” you whimper, feeling the coil close to snapping as he starts doing precise figure-eights on your swollen nub. It was all too much. 

“Say my name,” Joel says on repeat, your glassy eyes only being able to focus on him, just like he wanted. 

He starts marking you with his mouth, ferocious teeth nipping at the sensitive skin along your breasts and collarbones, so harshly that they burn once he’s done, and covering you in red and purple splotches. 

Joel’s grunting above you, withholding his own orgasm as another form of torturing you. “Say my name, god dammit, tell me who owns this fucking pussy.” He spits on you, mean and hot, and he’s all you can see, all you can think. 

Say my name. Say my name. God dammit, say my fucking name. 

“J-Joel!” You cry out his name and clench your eyes closed, but he doesn’t slow his thrusts or his fingers. “Fu-Fuck me, Joel, keep fucking me good, Joel, Joel, Joel- fuck!” you swallow down the lump in your throat as you see his goading smirk, his hips slamming you with all he’s got. 

“Come on baby, want Tommy t’hear you, want the whole damn neighborhood t’hear you-- shit,” he mutters, eyes clenching closed as your walls flutter around him in a nearing orgasm. 

“Say my name!” He shouts, and you cry out in pleasure. 

He was like God, your God. 

“Joel!” You cry out. The coil snaps, and the curtain falls down. Your back arches, and you throw your hips into Joel’s, fisting the sheets and dipping your eyes closed again as you let out a moan that shakes the entire house. Joel’s not long behind you, he paints your walls white in adoration, load after load marking your walls as his own, no one else's. 

A few minutes pass and he’s still buried inside of you. You look psychotic, fucked dumb and raw. “I’m yours, Joel.” You say barely above a whisper, desperate eyes searching his own for warmth. 

You’re twitching below him, overly exerted and tired. You’re motionless, half-dead under the man who resurrected you. He’s panting heavily from doing all the work per usual. His mouth is agape, trying to catch his breath as your numb limbs lie in place while he pulls out of you. He’s dripping with your arousal-cum mixture. Oh, but he’s not done. He kneels on the bed and smacks his hand against your pussy before cupping it. 

It makes your eyes widen, and you let out an overstimulated cry at the feeling. You quickly shake your head, grip his wrist, and meet his eyes with a pleading expression. “N-No Joel, can’t -- fuck -- can’t do another one right away, give me a sec baby-” 

“Do you know why I didn’t want Tommy to meet you?” His words ram your numb brain senseless. 

You whimper as he’s already starting slow circles on your clit, goosebumps forming once more. You muster up a shake of your head. 

No. No, I don’t know why you won’t let me meet your fucking brother, the question has been gnawing at me all damn day, though. 

“When we were younger, Tommy had a bad streak of sneakin’ off with my girlfriends.” He did? You had no idea. Joel’s voice is deviously quiet during his story-telling, wrecked with residual anger and desire for you. 

His thumb takes over massaging your clit, feeling both his index and middle finger slowly curl their way into your entrance. Your head nudges back against the pillows again, releasing a string of whimpers as he works you up again. He’s pushing his cum back inside of you while his fingers squelch.

“He was flirtin’ with ‘em, harmless at first, ‘til he decided he wanted ‘em for himself.” Your jaw tightens as he moves his thumb faster on your clit, angry that you let Tommy manipulate you into getting a rise out of Joel, just like he used to. He was using you as a pawn tonight. 

“Got into so many damn fights over it. S’why my nose is a lil’ crooked. Tommy broke it with a punch, fightin’ about some girl I was seein’ in my twenties.” You frowned. Stop talking about your other girlfriends, Joel.  

A quiet whimper left your lips as your pointer finger came up to brush along the light curve of his nose that you loved so much. 

“Don’t feel bad for me, angel. I broke his goddamn arm for fuckin’ me over like that.” He had a dangerous smirk on his lips, one that you liked, one that made your heart race as he circled your clit even faster and started massaging your walls with his thick fingers. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you whispered, the heated coil in your tummy churning again out of the protectiveness and jealousy he felt for you today. 

“He’s never met any of my girls since, so when I saw you walk into that bar..” he trailed off and started shaking his head. Your clit pulsed anxiously under the pad of his thumb, biting down harshly on your bruised and bloody lip. “Would never let him take you away from me. Never.” Your heart gushes for him. 

“I’d never leave you, Joel,” you lightly whimpered, your body twitching and writhing under him. He shook his head and gently shushed you, cupping your cheek with his free hand. Your glassy eyes watched him in adoration, seeing crooked stars in your vision as you felt another orgasm heatedly approaching. 

“Should’a told ya sooner. And you should’a stayed home. Listened to me for once,” He told you in a warning tone. You swallow the lump in your throat and gently nod, your thighs shaking against his legs that pinned yours wide open. 

“S’why when I saw ya in the bar, knew I had t’take you home and make you mine, devil woman.” He muttered with a small smirk. The nickname made a desperate smile trickle on your lips. 

“Yeah?” You said in a sheepish whimper, your walls fluttering around his fingers that were gently exploring your insides, leaving you so close to cumming again. It was too fast, and too damn hot in the room, but Joel was making you his, and that’s all you were going to focus on. 

“So what d’you say?” He asks, raising a curious eyebrow. 

“‘M sorry.” You muster up. “I-I’m sorry, Joel,” He’s got you panting for dear life as your thighs twitch while you near closer and closer to the edge. 

He slowly shakes his head. “And what else, pretty girl?” 

You cock your head and furrow your brows at him, unsure of what he wants you to say next. 

“Say my name, tell me you love me again.” His fingers abandon your entrance and solely focus on pleasuring your clit, going so fast, too fast. His head comes down by yours, resting his forehead against your temple as your eyes force themselves closed.  

“Fuck, Joel,” you whimper. 

“Look at me, baby.” He whispers to you, placing light kisses by the corner of your eye to bring attention to him. 

Your long lashes flutter on your cheeks before your fucked out face turns to Joel. “I love you, I love you, Joel, I love y-you- fuck,” you moan out loudly, throwing your head back and grinding your hips up into his hand. You do love him, the sick bastard that he was. 

Your second release is only minutes from your last; it sparks you like a firework, and you feel your bones tingle. This man was not one to contend with. But you did anyway because you loved him. 

You come down from being overstimulated. He plays this mean game where he grazes his fingers as light as a feather on different parts of your body, watching as your muscles and body twitch from being short-circuited. 

“Fuck you.” You murmur. 

His feet find the floor, his cock still hanging by his thighs, drenched in residual slick. He disappears into the bathroom, and you hear the faucet run. It rings in your ears, still trying to center yourself after being fucked to oblivion tonight. 

You didn’t realize your eyes had fallen close until you heard his feet padding towards you as he approached with a warm washcloth. You hum softly gently wipes your face from his spit and your mucky mascara before he rotates the washcloth and wipes at the inside of your thighs. You’re still a little sensitive, you can’t help but let your face twinge. 

He’s careful as he makes sure you’re clean, catching any residual spill. He tosses the washcloth into the laundry basket before he goes searching in your bag for something you can wear. 

“Joel?”

He pauses his movements. “Already know what you’re gonna say.” You instantly smile and observe him. He was so handsome. 

He stops looking through your bag for clothes and moves to his closet. He takes his time choosing what he wants you to wear, which makes you giggle a little bit from bed. You’re motionless, with no energy to move or even roll over. Barely enough to speak. 

He settles on a Metallica band t-shirt, at least twenty years old, with the cotton perfectly soft and worn in. He moves to his dresser and fishes out a clean pair of boxers. They were the most comfy to wear, you had to admit. Panties were to show off your ass before sex. Boxers were for after all that was finished. 

“You okay?” he whispers, to which you slowly nod. He’s always been so good with aftercare, even after a full day of arguing followed by a full night of fucking. 

The boxers are soft as they coast up your legs, and he settles them on your hips. The band reads Calvin Klein. You muster up enough strength to sit up on your elbows, and he helps you put the baggy shirt on. It messes up your hair, and he tries to smooth it over, which makes you bubble up a laugh. “It’ll just get all messed up when we sleep, but thanks,” you whisper before falling back into his pillows once again. 

Joel smirks widely before he lays down tiredly beside you on his front, like a big giant collapsing with a large huff. Your hand travels gently up his back, seeing the raised and jagged lines your nails had caused, your anger had caused. His jaw twitches, but he doesn’t let you know he’s feeling pain. 

“Joel?” You whisper and work up the energy to shimmy closer to him, your foreheads gently resting together. 

“Hm?” He murmurs. 

You feel shy all of a sudden, still vulnerable. “Happy birthday, Joel. I love you.” 

He slowly smiles, a sense of pride flooding his body as he pulls you in closer to him by your hip. He gently glides his thumb across your swollen bottom lip and kisses you lightly. “I love you, too. No matter how much of a brat you are.”

You slowly grin and close your eyes as your heads rest beside one another. 

“Oh my god.” You mutter to yourself. Joel pulls his head away to look down at you. 

“What is it, angel?”

You groan lightly and hide your face in your hands. “The cake! I left it out all day, it’s probably dry as fuck now!”

Joel lets out a puff of laughter, stroking your sweat-soaked hair away from your face. “S’okay, wasn’t gonna have any, anyway.” 

“Yes, you were.” You huff, your finger gently gliding down his nose once more before you gently kiss the tip in adoration. 

He hums softly at your decent behavior. “Good girl.” 

---

masterlist

A reminder that I no longer use taglists!! to keep up with my writing, follow @hellishfics and turn on notifications to keep updated!

[ajortga]

i forgive you.

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

based off a request! i feel like when i write angst i don't feel my stomach stir when i reread mine, but i feel it when i read others. so i don't know if my angst just doesn't have that spark that i hope it did? do you guys feel it when you read this? 😭

hope that this met what you wanted!

-

i was thinking of an angst with jenna x femreader? it could be when jenna has been overworked, comes home with reader preparing her something bc she misses her terribly, jenna pouring out her anger into her?

ending is entirely up to you, bad or good, idm!! as always, take your time fav author💕

-

Music blasted through your headphones as you swept the floor, throwing pillows on top of the couch perfectly. 

You missed your girlfriend. You missed Jenna.

She was filming, not too far from you, an hour or two, but even though she wasn’t too far, you couldn’t come on set when they filmed. There were days she would come home exhausted. 

Everyday you missed her, you missed her hugs, her kisses. You missed baking with her and falling asleep on her chest almost every night.

Jenna always had time for you, even as an actress, you knew it too that she loved you from the moon and back. 

But her schedules were busy with upcoming movies around this time, you barely got to talk to her as much, let alone even see her. There were sleepless nights when Jenna wouldn’t burst into the apartment with you running into her arms. 

You were drained at the end of most days, not being able to have the warm blanket that can’t compare to no other, Jenna. And as much as you’d long to tell her, you just couldn’t. You didn’t want her to see you as someone just as stressful as her work.

So all you could do was wait, you felt like if you somehow had your headphones on everyday, she’d have them on one of the times you wore them. It made you feel a little better, at least you might be doing something together. There were endless crumpled pieces in your personal room with smeared ink on them. Each of them you wrote when you missed her. You think you wrote at least one every day the moon passed your city and dawn broke. Your writing somehow never faltered, even when you were writing about the same thing every single time.

The endless poetic letters and writings crumbled in the palm of your hand, scattered in a box standing in front of your desk. You couldn’t help it. You felt sad. And the thing was, the only thing that made you happy was the one thing you can’t get at the end of the day without waiting.

The sun peeked through the curtains corner, the orange yellow brightness beginning to set.

Your legs kicked up and down, opening the Amazon package you ordered a few days prior, unboxing it and taking out the bubble wrap that crunched and popped as you unwrapped it. Your eyes laid upon the heart framed picture of you in Jenna’s arms. Your fingertips lightly switched on the button as the edges of the heart lit up one by one until it shone a bright pink in the midst of your dim lit apartment. 

You felt your lips curve into a smile and your heart squeeze, hugging the frame. It’ll all be over soon. When it’s over, you’ll be in the embrace of your sweet Jenna.

In the meantime, you made some red velvet cookies, something you did whenever you were a little sad or stressed.

As they came out of the oven, the cookie dough lifted from the heat and you shaped it in a perfect circle. Then, you piped your cream cheese frosting on the top and sprinkled the leftover red velvet cookie crumbs on top. It was something that always made you happy. Because somehow red velvet was always made when you weren’t.

A red plate was placed on the coffee table along with pretty flowers in a vase, seven of your heart-shaped red velvet cookies placed on it. The 8th and 9th? You may have eaten them to cure missing your girlfriend’s warm hugs.

The sun begins to fade as you hear the lock of your apartment click.

Your ears perk up, and so does your dog, Mabel’s. You immediately turn your head as you slowly lift from the couch, your dog seeming to get the hint as he barks playfully. Jenna.

Jenna.

And the door opens as you squeak out your girlfriend’s name happily, seeing her small figure standing at the door as you immediately run up to her. Jenna giggles, her body a bit tense and loosening as you hug her, her arms wrapping around you.

“Hi baby,” she says, a little bit of tiredness staining in her voice as you hug her and don’t want to let go.

“You’re home.” You whisper, tears almost brimming in your eyes from the happiness. 

She pulls away, giving a hesitant smile as she kisses your forehead lightly, “Mhm. I missed you.” She yawned.

“I missed you so much.” You murmur, “I really hated not seeing you every morning.”

There's something in her eye, but you don’t know what. Stress? Relief? Annoyance? Drowsiness?

“I have so much work to do,” she states plainly, rubbing your back, “I have to answer so many emails and talk with some companies that want to do advertisements. So much is on my plate.”

You didn’t want to say the way your heart slowly dropped. You didn’t expect your girlfriend that you missed dearly for months to come back and just expect to do work and not spend time with someone that has been waiting.

You look at her, sweeping the bangs out of her face.

“How about we wind down? You should take a break. Maybe we should bake while listening to the playlist we made together? Spend time with each other? A movie?”

“I’m tired.”

“I think we should just-”

“No.”

“But-”

Then, her fist suddenly slams into the wooden table, making your dog and you flinch from the loudness as she screams at you.

“God! Do you ever know when to just fucking shut up? Can I just go to bed instead of having a burden on my shoulders? I  came back so I could rest. Can I just fucking sleep without having you bother me like you always do? I’m already tired! Can’t you just respect that? Gosh Y/N, you are so fucking annoying!”

It was like an ignition of fireworks. But not the joy when you see the pretty colors, it's the frightening experience when you first hear the loud burst.

As soon as the words that she didn’t mean flowed out of her mouth, she shut it, immediately regretting what she said as she saw the way your happiness began to be shattered. You stood there, and Jenna just felt like she tortured a puppy. She felt her stomach fill with a drowning guilt as it seemed as tears were drowning in your eyes. Her eyes were wild and she soon realized, What the hell am I doing? She knew how much you missed her, she knew it by heart that you missed her day and night. Why did she just yell at you for you just missing someone you loved? She didn’t mean it. The brunette didn’t even know why she said that.

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry,” You whispered, tears glazing your eyes as your body quivered, your voice cracked as you could barely whisper once again, “I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t even make eye contact with her as you looked down to the floor, quickly trying to claw away the tears that began to fall down your cheeks and glisten against the light above you two. It felt like the light wasn’t even there, you felt like the whole world around you began to crumble into a void.

You felt sick, traumatized, stabbed into the heart till blood forever took your life as Jenna couldn’t help but just stand there. God you felt like such a fool for all of these love letters. All of these letters you wrote, longing for Jenna to come home to fill the part of her that was empty from her absence in your heart. But you didn’t expect to feel your heart tear more.

“Y/N… I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay.” 

“I don’t know what came over-”

“D-don’t come near me.”

She got out of the chair, approaching you, her face looking guilty as she brought her arms to hug you, apologies coming out of her mouth. But you didn’t feel the comfort. You didn’t want to be hugged. All you wanted was to get away, you wanted to get away from someone you never wanted to get away from. You immediately stumbled away from her embrace as you cried, running into the walls of the hallway as you crashed into a small drawer, making a small quiet yelp but still running and immediately shut your room when your figure got in, Mabel following you. She heard glass break into pieces, her eyes tracing to the floor where the counter you bumped into laid, your heart frame you placed gently on there broken. She had never seen that before. You must’ve gotten it when she was gone.

“No..” She whispers to herself, voice shaky, feeling guilty already as she bends down to it and sees the photo of you two hugging each other as you look at the camera with happy faces, her arms wrapped around you. The framed photo was broken, a crack in between the middle that now separated you two. A small static buzz sounding as the pink lighted up frame begins to dim, losing its light.

(the picture of you two)

She couldn’t help but think of it as a sign. Could this all be over? 

Could it all be over because of words that she never meant or could ever take back?

Jenna didn’t feel good, she felt ashamed of her behavior, now noticing all the things she didn’t notice before. Roses on the table, red velvet cookies with a letter on the right, the way the apartment was perfectly tidy. She looked at the hallway, your room shut.

-

30 minutes.

That’s how much time your girlfriend gave you before she walked over to your room, seeing Mabel growl at her as her fingertips ghosted your door knob. A frown appeared on her face as she looked down, the puppy always barking playfully at her and licking her face whenever she came home. Now his eyes glared into her, almost like he was guarding the door. 

She could tell the way the puppy was warning her, almost like he knew the instant change of mood in you as he chased after you and licked your face as you cried.

“Not you too,” she mumbled, bending down, Mabel backing away, “I already feel bad, I don’t want you to not like me too.”

Jenna scratched his ears as he nipped her finger lightly and bared his teeth, almost like saying, “Don’t you dare hurt her like that again.”

A sigh escaped her mouth as she picked him up and opened your door, peeking in. She looked around, the first view she could see were your crumpled letters littering in a box as she crept in and took one, unfolding it.

all reminds me of you.

every aspect of the universe, like the moon and sun. 

the way the sun kisses your freckled skin.

the moon cannot shine without the sun.

just like when you’re here, all the rain has been done.

the moon loves the sun.

the way the sun comforts it during the night with its warmth.

in this universe too,

i know we’ll get through,

because i know that i love you.

-y/n

There were too many to count. So much poetry, like your mind was filled with her because you missed her. You loved her so terribly that when she wasn’t here, a part of you wasn’t there either.

 “Y/N?”

No response, she sniffled, placing Mabel onto your bed as she looked around. Then she heard it. A small cry, her head immediately turning to your bathroom that was half open.

“Y/N?” she repeats again, coming closer as she opens the door, being greeted with the sight of your body slumped over on the toilet, hicupping on cries as she hears you gagging and puking. You were emptying the contents of your stomach, let alone the red velvet cookies you had before.

You looked so scared.

Anyone would feel heartbroken if they saw a sweet girl like you looking like this.

“Sweetheart,” Jena kneeled next to you worriedly, lifting up your hair as you coughed, back arching uncomfortably as she rubbed your shaking body.

Hiccups kept coming as you kept having the need to throw up. You couldn’t help it. You felt so much anxiety and stress, you just wanted it to stop as your shaking body coughed into the toilet. 

Your coughing died down a little, still weak as you manage to croak out a small, “I’m sorry I-I’m annoying. I’m really t-trying not to..” 

Jenna felt her heart shattered as she rubbed circles on your back, stroking your hair. Feeling terrible. She didn’t mean it.

She never meant it.

You looked tired, afraid, now realizing you didn’t look as happy as you once did when she was by your side.

Taking out her anger on someone she loved most.

“Baby no, I’m sorry I hurt you. I know how much you wanted to see me but work got a hold of me and everything was just so stressful. I didn’t mean anything I said, I don’t know why I said that. I’ve just taken all my stress that has been coming from filming on someone I loved and I shouldn’t have done that. It’s no excuse, but I promise you’re not a burden, or annoying, or anything. You’re perfect, and I love you. I’m sorry. There's no reason for you to apologize.”

It seems your coughs had stopped, backing away from the toilet as your shoulders hit the wall.

“I’m here. I love you. I love you too much. I’m so sorry I hurt you,” she whispers into the shell of your ear, her warm breath slightly comforting you as she cradles you lovingly. She rubs your back and flushes the toilet, picking you up into her arms while you curl your body into her. 

Her lips kiss your temple, wiping the tears she knew she caused, her warm hands caressing your cheeks. Jenna carefully places you down into bed, crawling in bed next to you as she spoons you. You turn around, immediately softening into her hug. Your sniffling red nose nestling into her neck.

Her eyes gaze at you, wondering how she could possibly yell at you. You looked so small in her arms while you let out quiet hiccuping cries.

“Shh.. Beautiful girl, I’m here, don’t cry, I won’t ever do that again. Pinky promise.”

Comfort.

Was the first thing you felt as her hand scratched your scalp, playing with the hairs on the nape of your neck. Her fingers soothed your wails, stroking your hair so gently.

Your muscles untense, your cheeks no longer so puffy.

Love.

Was the second thing you felt as Jenna’s lips pressed against your forehead over and over. Her nose nudged into yours and your hands intertwined. You felt loved. You feel the love you felt when you first laid eyes on Jenna as her warm body snuggles you. Your legs are laced together as you feel your heartbeat slow, finding serenity as you can hear the way Jenna’s peaceful heart thumps into your ears softly. 

Your eyes close, you feel yourself falling asleep, Jenna can feel it too. Her fingertips stroke your hair, her lips kissing your cheek.

Forgiveness

Was the last thing you felt before you fell asleep as your head nodded off, finding the soothing comfort in the fluffy, warm duvets, and finding even more comfort in your girlfriend.

“I forgive you,” your heart says, “When it comes to you, I always forgive you. I can’t ever bring myself to not love you. I love you just like the moon loves the sun. I love you even more than myself.”

I love you more than one heart can ever love.

[cupidriki]

SAD GIRL

(a jakehoon drabble)

𝓟RECIS ⌇You had a healthy marriage with Sunghoon, or so you thought. After finding out that Sunghoon has been planning to divorce you, you seek revenge by being with his arch-nemesis, Jake. Now the question is, who's trying to kill you, and who's trying to make you the queen of the world?

────────────────

𝓘NCLUES⌇Rich CEO Husband! Sunghoon x fem reader x Rich CEO! Jake, love triangle, dark romance, angst, tension, somewhat cheating, secrets, impossible love, other persons lover, mentions of murder

𝓣HEME SONGS ⌇Sad Girl by Lana del Rey

(betrayer will be revealed in part two)

“Come to me, darling..” As you stood before Sunghoon, his gaze met yours with a softness that seemed almost otherworldly. His eyes held a certain power, a mesmerizing quality that could make anyone feel like putty in his hands.

In a tense situation, you found yourself enveloped in Jake's arms, with a loaded gun pointed directly at Sunghoon who stood across from the two of you. Sunghoon raised his arms in surrender, convincing you to choose him.

“C’mon, you’re gonna throw all of this away?” Jake felt a sudden sense of danger as Sunghoon's lips twisted into a sinister smirk. He instinctively held you tighter, as if to protect you from whatever evil intentions lay behind that wicked expression.

You were married to Sunghoon for three years, and while it wasn't necessarily a terrible marriage, it also wasn't particularly fulfilling or happy.

Sunghoon and Jake have a long-standing rivalry, consistently trying to outdo each other to become the top company in their industry.

But the company wasn't what they were fighting about, it was you.

After hearing that Sunghoon wants to end your marriage, you felt really angry and frustrated. It sucks that he wants to throw away all the time you spent together without even considering how you feel.

The situation was intense as you sought revenge for what Sunghoon had done to you. You ended up sleeping with his enemy, Jake, but the consequences were not worth it. The regret was overwhelming as Sunghoon found out about your actions, and you were left feeling lost and confused. In the midst of it all, you found yourself in Jake's arms. However, Sunghoon was determined to convince you to come back to his side, leaving you torn between two conflicting emotions.

As Sunghoon persisted in pleading with you, your body trembled with a strong desire to be near him. Despite your inner conflict, the pull towards him grew stronger. Your heart yearned to reach out and bridge the distance between you, unable to resist his magnetic presence.

“Don’t make me do it, c’mon..”

Despite not knowing if Sunghoon might not be entirely truthful, you couldn't help but feel a strong love for him. You noticed that his sweet eyes were possibly just a facade, but you still see a slight care in his eyes, you couldn't resist falling for his charming demeanor and alluring presence.

As you gazed at Sunghoon and Jake, you suddenly noticed Sunghoon reaching for something in his pocket. In a split second, he pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at Jake. The tension in the air was palpable, and you were left frozen in shock, unsure of what to do next.

“If you go to him, i’ll shoot myself,” Jake said with a menacing look in his eyes, Jake tightened his grip around the gun as he directed his gaze towards Sunghoon. "I won't hesitate to use this," he said in a cold, calculated tone, his words dripping with a sense of danger and malice.

“If you keep letting Jake hold you, I’ll do the same.”

As you stood there, heart-wrenched and helpless, you knew that the fate of one of the two men you held so close to your heart will be out of your hands. With tears streaming down your face, you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable pain that was to come. You couldn't bear the thought of losing either of them, but you knew that only one would emerge from the fray, and the knowledge was almost too much to bear.

You have a gut feeling that one of the people around you is not being truthful and secretly desires to harm you. However, you are clueless about who that person could be, leaving you feeling apprehensive and on edge.

Your body trembles in terror as tears stream down your face, while the two men prepare their guns. Fear grips you as you watch them ready themselves for whatever comes next. Helpless and afraid, you think of who to choose.

@cholexc @yyawnjun @allforhee @dimplewonie

[milliesfishes]

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓮𝔂 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓼𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

[fem reader] contains: angst, self deprecation pairing: peacekeeper coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: coriolanus gets it in his head that you're too good for him author’s note: haven't done a pk coryo fic yet so I hope this is good! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Coriolanus could have sworn you didn't cry salt like everyone else. Your tears had to be sugar. As sweet as the rest of you.

As a peacekeeper he was forced into a certain mindset, one of orders and direction and plans. But you had twirled into his life and flipped it all upside down, throwing all his caution to the wind. The night you'd met at the Hob was ingrained in his eyes to dwell upon during a dull moment on patrol or as he was falling asleep at night, only topped by every second he'd spent with you since.

The Covey had fled after the Games, he'd been told, taking Lucy Gray with him. He'd been disappointed, understandably, but it wouldn't do him any good to dwell on the past. That had gotten him into enough trouble.

All rituals and worries of the Capitol were tossed to the wind. They had no place here, in the rural nature of District Twelve. Sure, there were rules and regulations, but they required no masks or games. Here there was only hard work.

He'd hardened considerably between the moment he'd been informed of his new service on, adapting a new protective shell. The one he'd built in the Capitol would do no good.

But when he began to see you, he could feel it soften.

You with your diamond eyes and smile like warm sunshine, you who entered his life like a rainbow after a storm. You who brightened the dreary scenery of District Twelve and lightened his mood so much he was worried he'd swapped personalities. The second he'd seen you dancing at the Hob he'd known you'd change his life forever. And so, he let you.

In the time that followed you became a fixture in his life that he wouldn't trade for anything. You made him better, he was convinced. With every sweet word that fell from your lips and sweet kiss you gave him he fell more madly, deeply in love than he'd known himself capable. You were a drug tailored to his tastes; a delightful aphrodisiac sent by a higher power. He never wanted to get sober.

Still, a secret thought had made itself known the second he realized his feelings for you. You're not good enough for her.

Coriolanus was a Peacekeeper drafted after a stint cheating in government sponsored murder. You were a sweet country girl, an angel in the midst of the dirt and grime of the lowest district. Never had there been a more mismatched pair.

Even now as he sat in the wildflower field you'd shown him a week into knowing him, holding you between his arms and breathing in the sweet scent of your hair, he knew he was on borrowed time.

You were cradled between his legs, back against his chest as he fingered a strand of your hair. Your adorable obsession with flowers was evident as you flicked the stems between your fingers. You'd given him a few of your findings, and he'd stuck them all in your hair, feeling unworthy of your treasures.

He kissed your hair gently, nose bumping one of the daisies. You were humming and watching the fluffy clouds in the sky; where you truly belonged in his opinion. "Are you comfortable, sweetheart?"

Turning your eyes like shining jewels to his blue ones, you nodded, looking the very picture of happiness. "You're a very good pillow."

"Ah, is that all I am to you?" he teased, the doubtful thoughts leaving him for a moment.

"No, but you're a very good one," you giggled, turning around to nuzzle into his chest. He fixed the flowers that fell from your locks as you did, gently smoothing them.

His heart grew heavy the more he looked at you. Your bright eyes and beautiful smile felt unattainable as time went on, even though you were here with him. Coriolanus had tried, but he hadn't been enough for you for even a second. What had previously been weight was now a crushing thing sitting atop him.

It came out before he could control it. "I can't see you anymore."

Time seemed to freeze as you sat up, turning around to face him. You were sitting between his legs still, the grass tickling your knees. One of the wildflowers behind your ear descended to the earth, bouncing once as it hit the dirt. Your voice was small. "What?"

Right then he could have just said he was kidding, that he hadn't meant it, and gone back to holding you. But he didn't. his own self-loathing propelled him forward into a mistake. "We can't be together."

The shock in your eyes was awful, a thing he didn't want to ever see again. You looked down at the ground, hands gracing your forearms and seemingly trying to self-soothe. The amount of guilt he felt in that moment was terrible.

Seeing that he was serious, you drew back, turning your head so your hair fell over the front of your shoulder. He longed to reach out and touch it, smooth it back, but he knew that privilege had been revoked. Finally, you lifted your eyes. "Why?"

The question was asked so meekly that Coriolanus felt guilt fester in his chest. He tried to keep his face even, unchanging. "I'm...I'm not good for you, sweetheart. You deserve someone better." Each word was wrenched from his mouth. He didn't want you to be with another man. The thought alone sent his mind into fits of jealousy. But he forced himself to continue. "Somebody will treat you better."

"No," you shook your head passionately, another flower meeting its demise in the grass. "I don't want somebody else. I want you."

He was nearly helpless to you. Coriolanus didn't want to deny you a single thing. But he had to let you go. Standing up and taking a few steps away, he hardened his tone slightly. "This is what's best for you."

"No!" You scrambled to your feet, hurrying after him and tugging on his arm. Oh this was becoming painful. "Please Coryo...please don't do this. I want you. I want to be with you."

Coriolanus tried to look away, but you were too magnetic. He couldn't resist reaching out, cupping your cheek in his palm. "I love you. And it's going to ruin your life."

"No-" the word was choked as it slipped past your lips. He could see your eyes welling up, his heart breaking at the sight.

Rubbing your cheek with his thumb, he clenched his jaw. "This is for the best. Don't cry."

But one teardrop like crystal escaped, rolling down your cheek. He remembered his thought from earlier, and was tempted to brush the tear away and lift it to his lips; see if it was as alike to clear honey as he thought it would be. Despite his mind's insistence, he resisted. If there was anything he had gained from his Peacekeeper training it was discipline.

So, taking in one last look at you, the sunset giving you an angelic outline as the final flower slipped from your hair, a single tear track on your cheek, Coriolanus gave your face one last caress and turned, briskly leaving the field.

Coriolanus hadn't realized how slow and merciless time was without the comfort or notion of his girl.

Every day was a twin to its previous and next, creating an unbearable mass of time that overwhelmed him. Even more so was the knowledge that all his days in the future would be inevitably added to it, and then before he knew it he'd be old and gray and despondent, dreaming of the angel he'd let slip between his fingers.

You haunted him day and night, and he saw you everywhere without really doing so. The stars spelled your name, the breeze whispered it, and every flower he came across was you. All he wanted was to abandon his post and run to your little cottage and kiss you senseless, tell you how sorry and stupid he was.

Every thought he'd had before about him being too dangerous felt silly. When a man had someone so good in front of him, he wasn't supposed to force it away. He was supposed to treat it the best he could. And he hadn't. He'd broken your delicate heart, cut it into ribbons like the ones you wore in your hair.

Having to see you in his dreams was a fresh torture. His unconscious mind would imagine he'd come to you, and you'd welcome him back with open arms; tell you how much you loved him and missed him. And then he'd say he'd never let you go again and this time it would be true.

And then just as you were about to kiss him, he would be yanked from his dream and thrust back into the cold barracks, listening to the snoring of his roommates. Whenever he tried to close his eyes and find the dream again it never worked.

Coriolanus kept his blue eyes peeled for you when he was on patrols, grip loosening on his gun whenever he saw someone with even the same length of hair. It was agonizing, thinking he had a glimpse and it turning out to be nothing. He hoped that if he did see you it wouldn't be in the arms of another man, though that was what he'd originally told you he wanted. Unfortunately, what he said, and thought were two separate things.

Finally, one day when rain drizzled dully from the grey sky, he spotted you walking with your shoulders hunched, arms folded over yourself. He nearly did a double take- he may have been far away but you looked nothing like the girl in the meadow that day.

The wet of your hair and dimness of your skin could be accounted to the rain, but it was the look on your face that got him. Your lips were drawn down, eyes somber even from where he was standing. Nothing like the embodiment of sunshine he once knew.

Coriolanus was sorely tempted to drop his gun, throw off his helmet and go to you. But his mind stopped him, those same old insecurities creeping in. Maybe when he'd been a student at the Academy; poor but with a bright future, he'd have found himself deserving. But he was still a Peacekeeper with no future save for the long days of patrols and rules ahead. There was nothing to offer you- the love that put anything he thought he had with Lucy Gray to shame.

Seeing you so miserable now though...it hurt. He knew he wasn't in much better shape.

As he roved over it for the rest of his shift, a realization dawned in him. You needed each other. You kept him grounded, kept him good. You were the hope and light he required to stay afloat in the storms of his life. And for whatever reason he didn't understand, you wanted him too. He'd been a fool to keep denying you what you wanted.

The second he'd returned his gun and changed from his uniform he was booking it. Out of the base, through the streets of town, trying to determine where it was you'd gone. He'd knocked on the wooden door of your cottage, but there was no answer, the windows dark. He asked around, but nobody had seen where you'd disappeared to.

With nowhere left to look, Coriolanus determined only one solution and went there as quickly as he could. His feet didn't carry him fast enough, his eyes didn't work the way he wanted them to. But it was all worth it when he finally spotted your silhouette, tiny in the distance, sitting under a lonely tree.

He approached cautiously, unsure if his arrival would upset you. Did you miss him? Did you even want to see him after the horrible mistake he'd made?

A branch snapped under his foot, and you whipped your head to face him, eyes wide. Coriolanus cringed at the sudden announcement of his arrival but decided to take it in stride. He watched you realize who it was.

Your lips parted, and a single word fell from your lips. "You."

He couldn't help his nod. "Me." You looked nearly frightened at his presence, which was the opposite of what he wanted. Hesitantly, he knelt beside you, lifting a hand to your cheek, fingers gently grazing the skin.

Tears sprung to your eyes the second he did, and you bit the side of your cheek. His heart broke in half. How he'd missed you. He missed the girl that would jump into his arms and snuggle up to his chest, giggling the whole time. He missed his sweetheart.

You sniffled, attempting to turn your head away, but he wouldn't let you. Bowing your head, you began to openly weep into the wildflowers, tears watering the blossoms. He brought his other hand to the corresponding cheek, holding your face up to look at him. "Angel..." he breathed. "Why're you crying, darling?"

"I'm sorry," you choked, chest shuddering as you looked up at him. "I'm so sorry."

Now he was confused. Coriolanus knew he was the one to hurt you. "What are you sorry for?"

"I wasn't good eno-ugh for yo-ou," you shakily got out, breath hitching every other word.

His heart dropped to his stomach, and he acted without thinking for a second, pulling you straight into his arms. "No...no, sweetheart. No, it wasn't you. I wasn't good enough for you."

"I know I'm just holding you back," you wept into his arms, body limp against him. "You could move up in rank, get transferred to a better district. Maybe you'd even be able to go home. And if you've got a girl here it'll just get in the way."

Coriolanus was in utter shock at your confession. This was really what you'd thought all this time? He needed to fix it. "No...no that isn't it at all...oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry..." Hating the sight of you crying, he tried to think. What would distract you? Looking to your knees, he noticed the absence of the little bouquet of wildflowers you usually had in your vicinity. Maybe if he tried something you liked you'd feel better?

Tilting your chin back up, he winced when he saw your watery eyes. His poor girl. Swallowing his hesitance, he rubbed your cheek, saying softly, "Would you do me a favor, my love?"

You nodded, a leftover tear slipping down your cheek. He brushed it away distractedly, focused on the task at hand. "Would you pick me some flowers? Can you do that for me?"

Doe eyes soft, you nodded once more, the usual sparkle in your eyes hiding behind your tears, but still, he could see it. You sat up straighter, brushing your cheeks once for any pearls of water that may have escaped again. He smiled softly as you shifted on the ground, looking around for the perfect flowers for him. It was touching how dedicated you were.

As your soft eyes surveyed and contemplated the flowers, soft hands plucking the stems, he felt a tiny smile break the cracks of his tough demeanor. You tended to have that effect on him, and now he was eager to embrace it. As you gathered flowers into a bouquet, he could see the girl he loved coming back to the surface. There she was. His sweetheart.

You presented the flowers to him hopefully, in a messy bouquet, and his smile split his face. "Pretty," he cooed, taking the bunch from you and delighting in the look in your eyes when he gave his approval. "Thank you, baby."

He carefully put the flowers in his pocket, careful not to crush any of the buds, and held out a hand to you. "Come here."

Easily, you shifted into his arms, soft head resting against his chest over his heart, just where he liked it. Once he had you cuddled against him again, like how he'd been missing for weeks, he whispered, "I'm sorry for leaving you."

Nuzzling your head against his pec, you blinked hazily up at him. "It's okay."

"No it's not," he corrected, plucking a daisy from the ground and tucking it behind your ear. "And I'll spend a long time making up for it, I imagine."

"I forgive you," you said sincerely, and he almost melted. "I love you."

The sunlight was no match for your adorable smile that reappeared like a rain after a drought. You looked up at him like he'd hung the moon in the sky.

And he'd strive to be that man for you.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he kissed your head and then your lips, more tenderly than he'd kissed anything. No, he wasn't worthy of your angelic presence, but you wanted him.

Who was he to deny you of the one thing he knew he was capable of giving?

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Memento Amoris Aeterni

Source for Pic

Word Count: 7155

Tags: Fem!Reader, NSFW - Oral - you receiving, reader is VERY inexperienced (it's medieval times and you're a princess. You know nothing), Angst without happy ending (!), some fluff, Protective Ace, Caring Ace, some gore, blood, cutting of limbs, medieval times AU. MDNI!!! 🔞

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You are a princess, the sole heir to the kingdom and a prized possession for your father, until he can sell you to the highest bidder. Because of your value, you have a personal guard, Sir Portgas, who seems bored to death with the task of watching over you. However, you realise that he's just hiding his feelings behind a mask. Yet perhaps now it is too late?

Notes: So I saw this post, and I just had to... I was going to do something very short, I swear, but it escalated! Hope you enjoy!

The meadow looks beautiful this time of year. The vibrant reds from the poppies, the purples from the lavenders, the whites from the daisies, and scattered here and there, some yellows from the sweet buttercups and blues from cornflowers. 

It feels like pure freedom. 

Your dainty fingers caress the grass as you run, hoisting your long dress over one arm, ignoring the way your white stockings are showing and laughing nervously at the way you almost lose a slipper. 

Freedom. 

Except not quite. The very ground shakes beneath the thunderous hooves of the galloping horse and you curse beneath your breath, running a little faster, with much more carelessness. Almost there, you almost made it across the meadow this time! 

Your hastened breaths leave your parted lips in short puffs while you overexert your tired lungs. You already know freedom is not ahead of you, but you'll be damned if you're going to give him the satisfaction of your surrender. 

Two more strides are all you get before an armoured arm circles your waist and effortlessly pulls you on top of the brown steed. You are now trapped between two arms while your legs dangle on the side of the horse. Still fighting to catch your breath, you grunt, curse and frown while clenching your hands into tight fists. 

“Curses upon you Sir Portgas!” Akin to a child in the midst of a fiery tantrum, you cross your arms over your chest and point your nose to the clear sky. “I was almost out!”

The horse steadies its pace into a trot while a deep chuckle graces your ears. “You were nowhere near ‘out’, Princess.” He tsks and you can almost feel his dark gaze upon your face. “Of all the jobs in the guard, I had to draw the short stick and land this one…”

Another grunt emerges from your gritted teeth. “Some knights would die for the honour of guarding the princess!”

“Those knights are idiots.”

“At least they're not insufferable!”

Another rumble of laughter is all you get and just as well because you are not willing to give anything more. 

You are the sole heir of the Kingdom and the most prized possession your father holds. As an heiress and a princess, he will get to pick and choose of any noble to be your husband. And he will pick either the wealthiest or the one who can bring him more advantages, be they military, political or financial. You are sure that whoever he picks, will either be hideous, decrepit or disgusting. 

With your luck, all three combined. 

As you are of utter importance, the King has assigned a permanent guard to you, Sir Portgas D. Ace. The best knight of the Guard, known to possess some mystical fire abilities, though you are sure that is just mere hearsay, and a known heartbreaker. Of that, you don't doubt. 

He is as handsome as he is unbearable. And that is saying a lot. 

“Your father the king will be utterly displeased at, yet another attempt to escape.” He says dryly. 

You grunt in response, busy plucking tiny burdocks from the hem of your dress and throwing them at Sir Portgas’s cape, unbeknownst to him. “Then don't tell him.”

“When I took this job, I thought I would be fighting brigands, thieves or assassins.” He scoffs. “Instead, I'm stuck as a milk nanny of a brat.”

“The job suits you. Takes a brat to recognize another one.” You mumble and hiss, a particularly nasty spike from the burdock protruding from your bleeding thumb. 

“Oh, heavens. The Princess is bleeding. Call the priest.” He guffaws and you scowl, your eyes turning into slits. 

“Amusing jest. Perhaps you should try your fortune as a court jester? Mayhaps you wouldn't be so bored?” Using your nails, you try to pick the spike, but it just breaks with the force and you curse, stifling a low whine. 

Sir Portgas removes his steel glove, settling it on his lap, and grabs your delicate hand with his. Your hiss this time has nothing to do with the pain, but with the electric feeling that courses through your body, leaving a tingling sensation on your extremities. 

His dark gaze bores into yours as he presses your thumb into his mouth and sucks. The day is not even hot, yet you feel as if your skin has set ablaze. He uses his tongue on your digit, procuring the spike and, once he finds it, he nibbles and sucks again. 

If you thought his hand on yours had caused a tingling feeling, his tongue has somehow made that tingling seem insignificant. You are aching and burning in places you shouldn't be. 

Your teeth clamp hard against your lower lip to stifle some weird sound that means to get out, yet your breath comes out in heaves through your nose and your peculiar mind says you must look like a tired horse: nostrils flaring, sweat dampening your mane and hot, flushed skin. 

Sir Portgas removes your thumb from his mouth after what resembles an eternity, and he spits towards the ground, gracing you with a smug smile. “There. No more vile thorn can harm you, my lady. I took care of your foe, as I was hired to do.”

Yet, for once, you are speechless. 

There is no counter jest, there is no witty remark. You cradle your hand against your lap and remain silent the rest of the way to the castle, your eyes never leaving the safety of the horse’s head. 

If Sir Portgas finds it peculiar, he does not say so. 

-*-

“I do not understand this need to escape, child! Do you not have all you wish for here in the castle? I give you all the gowns you desire, the pretty jewels, the fancy shoes! If you get bored I send for jesters, for animals, for dancers or plays! If you wish to meet new people, I host tournaments and gatherings! What is it you wish for that I cannot grant you? Pray, tell!”

You face the floor, your hands clasped in the front of your ruined and tattered gown. Your shoes look as if they had been through war and your hair has never been in a more dishevelled state.

Sir Portgas stands at attention behind you, to your right. His gaze facing forward, his gloved hand on the hilt of his sword. He doesn’t even flinch. You know he didn’t tell your father anything, he was with you the whole time. It was the guards by the gate that relayed that information. 

Now you are being scolded for yet another botched escape attempt. You had already lost count of how many there were. You had nineteen springs to your name, now. And your time must be near.

“I do not hear your words! Speak up! What do you want that I have not given you?”

A single tear escapes your eye and runs freely down your cheek. 

“Freedom.”

You catch a slight movement from Sir Portgas from the corner of your eye. His gaze meets yours, even if only for a second, as his jawline tightens and clenches. An almost soundless clank from the armour as his hand grips the handle harder.

“Preposterous. You will never be free. You belong to me now, child, and soon you will belong to your husband. That is the way of things. Begone!”

You hold your head high and your shoulders square as you exit the throne room and pass through an entire contingent of guards. Yet, as soon as the door closes behind you, your hands lift your skirts once more and you flee to your room as fast as your tired feet can take you. It does not matter that you are half-blinded by tears as you know the way around the castle as if it were the back of your hand.

You do not hear Sir Portgas following you, yet, he will find you. He always does.

Curse him.

-*-

The rain hits the carriage roof with extreme intensity. There’s mud on the road and the horses are dragging the vehicle to the best of their abilities, but the rain is cold and harsh and you can see smoke emerging from their flared nostrils from where you’re standing. 

You’re returning from a visit to a cousin, in the next kingdom. You have been away for three weeks and nothing has changed. Your life is dull and you are still trapped in it like a hare in a string trap, just waiting for the hit on the head so you’re fed to the hunter. 

Sighing you let out a loud huff. Your handmaiden keeps staring out the window with dreamy eyes and she ahhs and ohhs as if she has an affliction. You have half a mind to ask her if she’s constipated or in pain when you realise she’s staring at Sir Portgas, who rides next to the carriage.

He has removed his helmet because of the rain and his dark locks cling to his face and forehead with the heavy rain. His eyes are steely and dart from one side to the other, ever alert to any danger. Handsome as ever.

You roll your eyes at yet another insufferable sigh from the woman across from you. “Enough!” You bite. “I cannot stand another moan from your mouth. What is so interesting?”

“He is, my lady.” She giggles like a little girl and you feel your chest clench and contract as  anger boils within you. What is this feeling?

“Are you jesting?”

“I would never! He is so gallant and valiant. And his freckles? His smile? The way he fights?” Another sigh. You have had enough.

You’re about to order the carriage to stop because you wish to feel the rain on your face at the back of a horse. Instead, you hear dry thuds followed by screams and then, the tip of a spear protruding the carriage door and opening your maid’s skull with a sickening sound.

Your scream gets trapped in your throat, but your lips tremble incessantly. There are tears running from your eyes and you start to pant fast as your eyes never leave the gory image in front of you.

She still has her eyes open, her mouth shaped like an ‘o’ as blood and grey matter are splattered around her. Did the blood get on you as well? You dare not look. She was just laughing and now she’s so still.

You’re trembling. The screams and shouts outside increase in volume and proximity and the carriage halts to a full stop as you hear a pained neigh of a horse. The thuds of your heart grow louder and louder, as if it's beating right in your ears and your pants come in shortened gasps as your head gets lighter. 

The plush of the seat you are on gives in as your fingernails dig and scratch to ground yourself. There is so much blood. 

So much screaming.

Suddenly the door to the carriage jolts open and you turn in terror, barely having time to scream, and even if you meant to scream, you wouldn’t be able to. A wet, clammy hand finds its way to your mouth to keep you quiet and you’re inundated with the nauseating smell of metal.

Blood.

Another hand grabs you by the arm and yanks hard to pull you out of the carriage. You’re sure it will bruise. Yet, you couldn’t care less. As soon as you’re out of the carriage and you clumsily find your footing, before the man - whose appearance you are yet to perceive - manages to take you away, you bite his fingers with all the strength you possess.

Blood. Again. 

This time it fills your mouth and you spit it on the floor as soon as the man drops you, with surprise. Your knees scrape against the rocks and mud below you and you claw your way forward until you find the strength to be on your feet, preparing to run.

All around you men clash swords. There’s agonised screams and blood everywhere. You need to go!

Yet you barely get one step in before a bloody hand clasps around your neck and squeezes. “Going somewhere, you little princess whore.” The man lifts you easily off the ground and your throat aches and your lungs burn. You try to gasp for air but nothing but wheezes leave your parted lips.

Your fingernails scratch relentlessly against his hand but he does not relent. Around you the sounds of battle seem to fade into the distance. Legs dangling, your feet try to kick the man holding you, but strength fails you and you are sure this is the way you die. “Just pass out, little whore.” He whispers in your ear as his wet tongue swipes your neck and ear.

You can’t squirm away. You can’t fight back. You’re useless. 

You feel your eyelids drooping as your chest trembles and your arms fall limply beside you. But just as you’re about to dive into sweet oblivion, a sword swings and cuts right through the man’s arm, making you fall and stumble forward, right into the arms of your knight. Your guard, your protector.

Sir Portgas.

He holds you against him effortlessly as you gasp for air and cough. A pressure on your throat that burns and hurts. But you’re safe.

“Breathe, Princess. I won’t let anything happen to you.” The man that was holding you mutters incoherently. Begging for his life, pleading for mercy, asking for aid from the gods. Yet you know that all is in vain. Your knight was made to protect you. He will kill anyone or anything that attempts to take your life.

Still holding you he moves his blade effortlessly and you hear a blood-curdling scream. Trying to normalise your breath, you turn your face to look back, but Ace holds your head against him with a gloved hand. “It’s best if you don’t look.” You nod against him, feeling your legs faint from fear.

“We are going to run. Close your eyes and hold my hand. I will guide you. Do you trust me?” You lift your head to look into his eyes and there is tenderness, determination, courage and something else you can’t quite place, as he looks down at you.

“With my life.” Your whisper comes in shaky gasps and he nods, holding your hand in his.

“Run.” He orders and you do. Your eyes clenched shut as you still hear screams and the sound of colliding blades. 

Something whooshes past you and you hear a roar of sorts, at the same time as Sir Portgas mutters something under his breath. There is another scream - close, too close! - and the stench of burning flesh. 

“I’m going to pick you up. Keep your eyes closed, Princess.” He doesn’t need to tell you twice. And as he hoists you over his shoulder by the waist, you clamp your hands against your ears to keep the sounds away.

But the screaming doesn’t stop.

It never stops.

-*-

You feel yourself being set down on the ground but it’s as if the shock has left you in a rigid state. Your hands remain on your ears and your eyes shut tightly. There’s someone calling your name and shaking you but you have retreated so far into your mind that you can’t come back easily.

“..ss… Princess!”

Your eyes snap open as you gasp and a loud sob leaves your parted lips. Tears flood down and you try to release yourself from the firm hands that are holding you down. 

“It’s me, it’s me! Ace! Everything is fine! Princess, calm down!” He whispers your name. “Please calm down. Look at me.”

Still panting and gasping for air, your nails digging into his bloodied armour, you lock eyes with his dark gaze. He looks worried and pained, and you focus on his freckles instead, counting them to ground yourself.

One, two…

“It’s over, we escaped, we are fine.”

Three, four…

“I’m not sure anyone else survived. We have no horses, no food, no clothes or shelter.”

Five, six…

“The rain has given us some truce for the time being, but it won’t let up the whole night. We will rest for a bit, and then we have to go.”

Seven, eight…

“Princess, are you with me?” You don’t know when he took the gloves off, but his warm hand makes contact with your cheek and you gasp, your eyes focusing back on his. “There is nothing to fear. I won’t let anyone or anything harm you. You have my promise.”

You nod and gulp. Another tear escapes your eyes and he wipes it with his thumb.

“It could have been me.” You whisper and your voice is rasp. Your throat is sore and raw and you realise you are quite thirsty. “The spear… it just… her head… she was… she…”

He nods and mumbles some soothing words. “You’re alive. You’re fine. Try not to think of what you saw. I’ll take you home.”

You nod as your hand scratches your throat. Sir Portgas reaches and hands you a leather pouch. “Drink. It’s water.”

He sits on the floor for a moment as he sheds his steel armour. 

“Should you be taking that off? What if there are more enemies?” You ask, concerned. 

“I am faster without it, anyway. And all the noise will just give our location away to those listening.”

Makes sense. 

He gives you another moment to rest and then extends his hand to help you up. Your eyes fall on your dress and you frown. It is splattered with blood, mud and all kinds of stains. Not to mention that it is soaked through. 

“Come, we need to find shelter. It’s almost nightfall.”

You are surrounded by forest, you have no idea what kind of shelter he means to find, but you trust him completely. He was assigned to you two years ago, when you were presented to society and your father started entertaining nobles who wanted a claim on your hand. 

Luckily, none suited his fancy enough to tempt him. 

Sir Portgas has never left your side once. He sleeps when you sleep, eats when you eat, gets up when you get up. His duty to you is never-ending. He knows all there is to know about you. And you only know what he wanted to share with you. Next to nothing, because he always found the job boring.

As both of you walk through the woods, feeling the gentle pitter-patter of the slow rain, you feel as if you have calmed down enough. There is still adrenaline rushing through your veins, and you release it by holding a long, thick stick and swiping leaves with it, as if it were a sword.

“Who attacked us?”

He keeps his eyes ahead, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword so tight, his knuckles are white. 

“I’m not sure. There were no banners.”

“Brigands, you think? They saw the coach and decided we might have treasures to steal?”

“Most likely.” He grunts.

“But you don’t think that was the case?”

He stops and you bump into his hard back, as you were staring at your stick. You mumble an apology and feel your cheeks warm up. Never had you noticed how taut and defined he was, beneath the steel armour.

Looking at you, his eyes now permanently creased with concern, he sighs. “They were too organised to be simple brigands or thieves. They had military precision so they had to belong to an army. An enemy army, perhaps. I need to take you back home.”

He tugs at your arms and starts walking again. 

“No.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to go back home.” You whisper, but you keep walking alongside him. He divides his attention with your surroundings and your face.

“I can understand that, but it is far too dangerous. We need to know if the King received some sort of ransom note or-...”

“I don’t care! You can leave me wherever and go back to my father saying they killed me! I cannot return home to be sold like cattle to the highest bidder!”

You refuse to let tears leave your eyes this time. He stops again and stares at you. You can’t read him. 

At all.

“There.” He points behind you and you turn. It’s a small cave. “It will have to do. Come.” And just like that he decides the argument is over and drags you to the entrance, collecting some random sticks along the way. It is actually a rather large cave and Sir Portgas takes the wood from your hand, rips a piece of his tunic and ties it to the end of the wood. 

Muttering a few words, a flame shoots out of his fingers and he lights the cloth easily. You look at him, flabbergasted and awestruck. So it is true. He has fire powers.

“Fascinating.” You can’t help but exclaim under your breath.

“Thank you, Princess.” He replies with a smirk and tells you to follow him as he delves into the bowels of the cave. 

Deeming you far enough not to be spotted, he drops the sticks he collected in a neat pile, adds some more wood that’s scattered inside the cave, and lights it with the flame he’s already holding.

“Undress, Princess, you don’t want to catch a cold.”

“Pardon?” You should really stop blushing. It is embarrassing.

He is already removing his tunic and breeches, leaving only his undergarments on for some modesty and you look away. 

“If you worry about modesty today, you will be dead of pneumonia tomorrow. Undress your gown and set it to dry.” He says as he drapes his clothes on a large rock near the place he built the fire. “I promise I won’t bite.”

You take a moment to consider, but you know he’s right. You’re already feeling tremors for staying out in the rain for so long. So you do know you will get sick if you don’t get out of the wet clothes.

With a heavy sigh you try to remove the ribbons that hold your dress together, but you can’t reach them. 

“Sir Portgas…” You start, your voice a mere whisper.

“It’s Ace.”

“Ace.” The name rolls off your tongue like something sinful and you lower your gaze. “I require your assistance, please.” 

As he raises his head towards you, he immediately understands your predicament. He gets up and approaches your back with slow steps. Catching your breath, you lower your neck a bit.

His fingers are soft against the bare skin of your neck as he moves your hair from your nape to the side, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. The shiver that crawls up your spine has nothing to do with the cold.

His face draws near as he untangles the ribbons and you can feel his breath against your neck and upper back. The tingling sensations return to your body, leaving you breathless and panting. There is a need deep within you that you don’t quite understand or know how to fulfil. 

Yet, you have an inkling that Ace could very well fulfil it. And he would certainly know how.

He removes the last ribbon and steps back a pace. “There.” Ace's voice sounds deeper than before and, when you turn, his eyes are all pupil as he stares at you. Your heartbeat accelerates as you lock eyes with him, silently begging him not to look away as your fingers gently tug at the gown, undressing. 

Your chest heaves and you see his eyes fall to your chemise-covered bosom as the muscle in his jaw twitches.

The need for something intensifies and you reach forward, touching him through the fabric of his linen shirt, feeling the firmness of his chest. 

“Princess…” He whispers. 

“Ace…”

You take a step forward and hold his hand. It's big and calloused from the swords but it's so warm. 

“Touch me.” You plead. You could order him, though you're not sure he would follow that order. 

“I…” He seems torn. You know he's a loyal knight. He serves valiantly and believes in the kingdom he protects. Touching you would be treasonous and could lead to execution.

You decide to be honest. “I feel… I don't quite know how to explain it, but when you touch me, like when you did with the thorn I had on my finger, or when you lift me up to place me in your horse there's…” You exhale deeply. “A warmth, a fire within me that I don't know how to handle.” Lowering your gaze and swallowing a lump in your throat, you make a final plea. “Teach me how to handle it, Ace.”

He groans but doesn't take his hand away from yours. So you brazenly place it above your chest. Watching him closely, you see his eyes darken as his hand twitches and he grits his teeth. 

“Princess, I…” 

“I have been told that men lie with women to procreate. I wasn’t informed of all the details, but I've heard the maids whisper about things that can be done that do not get a woman with child.” Could you be burning up more? Are you seriously asking this of Ace? 

He remains frozen in place, his hand still on your chest and you feel like a fool. 

Sighing you swat his hand away and turn. “Forget I said anything.” Yet his strong arm envelops your waist and he pulls your body against his, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling. 

“Gods above and below…” He mutters against your skin and you tremble. “Is this really happening?” You feel something hard against your lower back and flush. You know what it is. But you've never seen one. You don't know what to expect. “Princess… You are correct, there are things we can do that do not get you with child and assure you remain intact until your wedding night.” His voice seems pained. “Are you certain that-...”

“Yes!” You moan, No longer able to contain the need inside you. Not when his hot breath is fanning against your neck, not when his hand is squeezing your waist nor when his hardness presses against your back. Your need is him! You're sure of it. 

“I have dreamed of this for so long…” He whispers. You want to ask what he means by that, but then his tongue draws circles on your neck and around your earlobe and you gasp, all thoughts dissolving into nothingness. His hands fall on your shoulders and he hooks his fingers on the sleeves of your chemise. “Princess…”

“Take it off.” You command. 

He tugs at the fabric and the garment crumples on the floor, leaving you with nothing but your white stockings. You blink as you focus your eyes on your body. You're not cold, yet your nipples are erect and there are goosebumps all over your skin. It's a reaction to his touch. 

You turn slowly, cheeks ablaze as you seek his eyes. Ace gulps as he takes you in. “Can I kiss you?” He starts but then shakes his head and groans. “No, forget it, that should be reserved for your husband.”

Yet you don't care about a possible husband in a future you can’t yet forsee. You want Ace's lips. And you want them now. 

So you grab his face and pull him down, clumsily pressing your lips to his and bumping your teeth together. After a moment he chuckles into your mouth and you flush and pull back, embarrassed. 

“Don't get mad at me, Princess.” He says, a glimmer in his eyes and a softness you’ve never seen before. His hand grips your hip as he pulls you towards him. A thumb gently stroking the bone of your hip, sending a warm wave of heat towards your centre. Lowering his head, he gently pulls your face to him by putting a hand on your nape. This time, when your lips collide, it's with softness. He moves them and you moan involuntarily. His sinful tongue licks and teases and you open your mouth, gasping as he takes your tongue in his and swirls. 

The sensation is divine. 

You had no idea a kiss could be like this. None of the books mentioned it! It’s making your heart flutter against your chest and causing an ache and a burn between your legs. You still don’t know how to handle it.

But Ace does. 

His hand finds its way to your breast and he slowly teases the nipple, flicking it softly with his thumb. You pull away from the kiss and gasp again. “Oh, my!”

“Did that feel good?” You nod vigorously. “That's good, Princess. I'm going to make you feel even better.”

He lowers you down so you sit on top of your dress. “If you don't like something, tell me.” You nod. 

“Can you take this off?” You grab his shirt and he smirks, pulling the linen garment over his head. His muscles are very defined and you take your time pressing your fingers against his chest and abs. There is a dark trail of hair that leads to the inside of his underwear but as your fingers trace it, he grasps your hand in his and kisses your fingers. 

“Let us take care of that warmth you feel first, shall we?” You nod and lie back, nervous. 

He starts slowly, his gentle fingers tracing patterns on your skin, lingering on the nipples, watching the rise and fall of your breasts as he finds what feels particularly good. And then he devours you. 

His eager mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking and teasing with his tongue. 

“What?” You arch your back against his touch and the fire keeps spreading. Fiery tendrils climbing all over you. He's just building the fire higher and higher. When does it stop? 

And do you want it to stop? Because this feeling burns marvellously. 

His tongue licks towards your belly button and then your mound. “Wait!” You gasp and he raises his head. 

“I can stop if you want, but I promise you it will feel good.” 

You don't know if he's telling the truth, but you trust him completely. So you nod. “Don't stop.”

He uses his hands to raise your legs and place them over his shoulders and when he stares, you feel yourself shrinking with embarrassment. 

“So beautiful…” You hear him murmur before he leans in and you feel his tongue swiping a hot streak across your folds.

“Oh!” Throwing your head back, you immediately arch your back against his touch. “Oh, my!”

He stops for a moment and meets your gaze. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You almost plead. 

“Make all the sounds you want, Princess. Please.”

You're not quite sure what he means by that but you still agree. And then his tongue repeats the same movement and you smile. Dear Gods, this can't be true. His hand disappears beneath you and you feel his finger inside you touching a spot that makes you want to scream with pleasure. So you do. 

He mumbles against you and the vibration of his lips on your sensitive nub makes you roll your eyes. 

“Oh, Gods! Ace!”

Your hips buckle against his face involuntarily and you want to feel ashamed but you can't because it feels too good! His tongue is hot and slippery and he laps at you with such vigour that it makes you writhe beneath him. His fingers - yes, more than one - move inside and out with ease continually touching a spot that feels so, so good. 

“Oh, my! Oh, my!” You can't stop a string of curses from escaping your lips. The warmth builds up, spreading to your legs and toes, and to your belly, until suddenly it snaps! 

You see bright lights as your head falls back, moaning loudly and incessantly while you pant and scream his name. It feels good, it feels so good! 

Ace continues lapping at your core and it feels like it's very sensitive now, so you whine and he stops. “You did so well, Princess. You taste so good.” His lips are glistening and he looks dazed. You are smiling as you pant but you pull him to you, eager to taste what you’ve left on his lips. He gives you exactly what you want - lips, tongue, taste - and you mewl against him, lost in pleasure and dizziness from your previous orgasm. 

As you break apart you lock eyes with Ace, an exhilarating feeling coursing through you. “That was…” You laugh. 

“I know.” He says cheekily as he caresses your cheek. “You're so beautiful.”

You feel yourself flush again, he’s never spoken to you like this. He was always arrogant and insufferable. Acting as if watching over you was the most boring task he’d ever had to do. Yet, now it seems he’s ready to write you love poems. 

“What else can we do?” You touch him again, where his hair starts to disappear below his underwear. He clenches his jaw as your hand traces the shape of his cock. “Does that go… inside me?” You ask, biting your lip. It seems big. Will it fit? 

“It does. But that's for the wedding night, Princess.” He says, his tone sad. 

“What if I don't want to get married?” You frown. “I told you I don't want to go back. I shouldn’t have to marry some old lord I don't care about.” You hold his hand, entwining your fingers with his. “Maybe we can be together.”

He looks downcast as his forehead meets yours and lets out a deep sigh. “Don't tempt me, Princess.” He says, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “I've been in love with you since we met. The constant fear of losing you to another man keeps me awake most nights. I cannot bear the thought of never being able to have you. So don't tempt me, please.” His fervour leaves you breathless. 

Love? 

You thought he abhorred you! You believed he only put up with you because it was his job. Nothing more. Love? 

Cupping his face in your hands, you stare deeply into his eyes. “Let's run away. You and me. Away from my father's kingdom, from duties, from everything. He will think we're dead, anyway!”

“No, Princess. I have a duty to my king and my kingdom. I cannot do it.” He says as your eyes fill with tears. “And you have a duty to your father as well. Don’t forget that.”

“Ace… Please…”

“No. I can't.” His eyes squeeze shut as he presses his forehead against yours once more. “Don't ask me this. Please.”

Torn between love and duty. And you wish he would simply choose love. You pull away from him, covering  your face as you shed more tears. 

Ace sighs and picks up your chemise, gently helping you dress even though you don’t look at him. Then he pulls you against his chest as he settles against a rock. “Sleep, Princess. I will keep watch.”

And you do. 

By morning, even the air feels bleaker. There is no more rain, but dark clouds hover above the sky. You can’t change his mind. He’s set to bring you back to the castle.

Back to your prison.

“My father will marry me off…” You whisper, feeling your face crackle with dried tears. Your clothes are stiff from caked mud and blood and you’re pretty sure your heart stayed behind in that dark cave. 

Ace’s eyes remain fixed on the road ahead, but you notice him swallowing a lump before he speaks. 

“It is your duty, Princess. You have yours, I have mine.” He sighs. “I never meant to burden you with my feelings. A knight is not worthy of a princess’s love.”

“Clearly you have not read the same novels as I have.” You scoff and your response elicits a small chuckle from him, your easy banter slowly returning to normal. 

Ace continues his slow walk and you follow, feeling as if you’re walking towards the gallows and every step brings your demise a bit closer. “Ace, please…” You beg once more. “Please…!”

Yet he does not stop.

You see him struggle as his face hardens and his eyes grow blurry, but he does not stop. And the noose tightens around your neck. 

-*-

You’re received with cheers and ovations. A joyous celebration for you and for your valiant knight. Ace is offered a promotion. Finally a way for him to leave your side, to stop nannying you as he always complained.

He does not accept it.

Your heart warms for a moment, though you find it very hard to fall back into a routine of entrapment when you were free, albeit for a few hours. 

Yet doom envelops you and the noose tightens and elevates you once your father makes the announcement. He has found you a husband. You’re to be married in a fortnight. 

Breath catches in your throat and it’s hard to seek air. But your eyes search and find his. A reflection of your own, you’re sure, for they seem pained and drained of life. Yet the moment passes and your father keeps telling you all about how delightfully rich and important your future husband is. 

And how you have a duty to him and to your kingdom, as their princess. It all comes down to duty. 

That awful word.

-*-

The guests are arriving and the groom has been presented to you just in the morning. He is not old or decrepit. In fact, he seems quite polite and is rather handsome. 

But he is not Ace.

And you realised that the warmth he made you feel, and the anger you felt when your late maid spoke of him with desire, were all because of one thing alone: love. You love him back. And he needs to know it before you leave.

Because you will not bring him with you. You cannot forget him, nor allow him to forget you if he is to remain forever by your side.

-*-

The day of the wedding dawns cold and grey, a reflection of your own thoughts. An array of maids dresses you in the best finery you possess and you are a beacon of elegance and beauty. Though the veil you wear over your face might as well be a shroud.

Ace stands in the shadows, his face masked and sombre. You have not spoken more than two words to each other since you returned. But you have to let him know how you feel before it’s too late.

“Everyone out, now.” Your voice is cold and commanding and the servants scurry and hurry out of your chambers. Ace is last, but you stop him. “Not you.”

He closes the door with a soft thud and turns towards you. Hands folded behind his back and eyes fixed somewhere behind you. As you approach, however, you notice him blinking and clenching his jaw and it takes nothing more than one touch of your soft fingers on his cheek for him to let his knightly countenance crumble into pieces. 

Holding your fingers to his lips, he kisses them with fervour. “Princess…”

“Ace…” Your whisper brings sorrow and despair, and he feels it. “I need to tell you something before the wedding, though it changes nothing. You were right. This is my duty, and you have yours, escaping it was nothing but a fleeting dream.”

A sigh parts your lips and he uses his knuckles to caress your cheek. 

“I love you.” Your eyes bore into his and your lips curl into a tight smile when a flicker of surprise crosses his eyes. “I didn’t know it was love and it took me a while to realise. But it’s true.” You take both his hands in yours and tears start to stream down your face because you can’t contain them any longer. 

“This is breaking me apart, but it is for the best. You will stay in the castle and accept the promotion you were offered upon our return.” Ignoring his protests you continue. “I will leave to fulfil my duty and live my new life.”

His head falls forward, shoulders slumping and a string of curses leaves his pursed lips. Though it pains you more than he can ever imagine, you force a smile, using your hand to lift his face so he can look at you. “You’ll always be in my heart. That will never change.”

Ace’s voice is barely a whisper, strained with emotion and effort to keep his tears at bay. “You’re asking me to stand and watch as you walk away? To stay here and live a life without your presence?”

“Yes.” You sob back.

“How can I do that?!” A heave rocks his shoulders as he leans his forehead against yours. “It’s like asking me to live without a beating heart.”

“I pray you forget me soon, Ace, because if you were to come with me, we would never be able to move on. And we would be miserable.”

“I am already miserable.”

Tears stream down both your faces, and you stand on your toes to kiss his tears away. Cupping your face with tenderness, Ace’s thumb crosses your lower lip and you nod, giving him all the permission he needs to lower his head to yours and take your warm lips with his.

This time, the kiss you share is desperate. He claims your mouth with his tongue, his arms embracing you and pulling you against him. You return the gesture with equal devotion, your tongue begging for more as you embrace and melt into each other, knowing you’ll have no other chance to do so. 

A rapid knock on the door breaks you apart. “Princess! It is time!”

Panting and wiping away tears, you answer with a shaky voice. “I’m almost ready.” Ace helps you fix your dress and veil, his eyes cast downward, sorrow filling them with shadows. 

With trembling hands you remove a ring from your finger. A ring your mother gave you on her deathbed. Setting it in his palm, you close his fingers around it and kiss them tenderly. “A memento to remember me by, my love.”

He doesn’t want to let you go and you don’t want to leave him. It would have been so much simpler if you had run away in that forest. No one would know. And you would have been happy.

Perhaps…

You drop his hands, take a deep breath and square your shoulders, opening the door and leaving your childhood home and your one true love. 

Ready to face a new life, an old duty, and an eternity of sorrow.

[audrey-carr1]

The Heiress and the Lady of the House (part 4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

warnings/tags: fem!reader, hettyxreader, a pinch of hettyxtrevor, angst, suggested smut (none written)

A/N: two parts in two days! I think I may be beginning to spoil you all lol. Hope you enjoy this latest installment.

word count: 3.8k+

Still December / month 2 

Nadine and I break apart from our kiss laughing. 

“Alright you got your mistletoe kiss, are you happy?” I say sitting back down on my bed.

“Eh, I’ve had better,” Nadine says putting the mistletoe back down.  

“Hey!” I say in mock hurt.

“I should hang this over Hetty’s door, so you two can finally work it out,” Nadine says with a suggestive grin waving the mistle toe in my face. 

“We have only kissed and it was once! I don’t think it’ll happen again,” I say swatting the plant away from my face. 

“Well hello, I have the picture perfect solution to that,” Nadine says referencing the mistletoe again, “Why can’t you just let go of the anxiety and lead with your heart.”

Without warning I begin to cry thinking of how Hetty has practically become a stranger all over again. 

“This is foolish, she doesn’t feel for me the same I feel for her. Besides where is the relationship going to go? She’s dead and I’m not,”I say wiping my eyes. 

“Well by your ghost power logic, you’re like half-dead,” Nadine says. 

“Not helping Nadine,” I say with a watery laugh.

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

Meanwhile Hetty and Trevor are in Trevor’s room. 

Hetty was trying to allow herself to enjoy the moment, but she could not stop thinking about what she saw. Now her mind begins to throw play tricks on her. She imagines (y/n) and Nadine on the bed like her and Trevor are. She imagines the little noises you’d make, and how she wishes she was the source of them. Hetty feels her hands start to ball into fists. 

Noticing Hetty’s lack of enthusiasm, Trevor breaks the kiss. Leaving Hetty a bit surprised, and a bit relieved even if she wouldn’t care to admit the second part. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Trevor asks.

“Talk about what?” Hetty asks feigning ignorance.

“Hetty,” Trevor says a bit sternly. 

“Oh alright, fine. Maybe I was thinking about her, but only a little,” Hetty admits sitting up.

“Well it’s not like this is the first time. I honestly don’t know why you’re pursuing whatever this” Trevor says gesturing between them, “When you clearly have a thing for (y/n).” 

Trevor sits up in bed and adjusts his jacket. 

“I do not have a thing for (y/n),” Hetty says becoming defensive. 

“Once while you were straddling me, you called out her name…not mine,” Trevor says matter of factly. 

Hetty wishes she wipe the smuggness from his face. 

Trevor continues, “Usually I would be hurt any, but I kind of figured you were using me to let off steam. Especially since you don’t have your washing machine. I’m fine being friends with benefits, but I can’t be a place holder for someone who you can easily pursue.”

“Could you all leave that blasted thing in past, I have clearly moved on,” Hetty says a bit annoyed. Hetty begins to fidget with her collar before fidgeting with her hands. 

“But you haven’t though. I think you’re afraid of rejection,” Trevor says. 

“Oh please,” Hetty guffaws,“When did you have time to obtain a degree in psychology?”

“About the second time you called out her name in the midst of our tryst and this is the third,” Trevor says, “That’s not the point right now though. The point is that you are letting fear take control over you again. You have a woman that has the biggest crush on you, and you have one on her. Don’t think I didn’t hear you giggle like a school girl when she compliments you. I have always seen the way you look at her when her and Flower are outside doing yoga. It’s like you were watching stable boy video.,”

Hetty laughs softly and  shakes her head. “Trevor you do not understand, these are brand new feelings. I certainly did not feel this away about Elias, I did not feel this way about the painter paramour. I cannot stop thinking about her, and when she is not near me. There is like an innate need inside me that craves her presence. I want to watch her smile and laugh without a care, and oh so much more,” Hetty admits, “But she does not want me. I have had that confirmed tonight. When that muscle bound brute is around they are always flirting. I walked in on her kissing Nadine, and earlier they were practically eating chocolate off of each other. ”  

“Where was I that missed that action?” Trevor asks. Hetty quickly slaps his thigh.

“Ouch, okay yeah not the right time,” Trevor says trying to soothe the sting in his thigh,  “Hetty have you ever stopped to think that you might be jealous that she’s getting outside attention? I think you should try talking to her. You might be reading into things that aren’t really there. I do know that Riley has a girlfriend back home. I heard them talking on the phone the other day. I’ve also seen Riley and her around each other, and they act more friends than lovers. And Nadine is just a natural flirt, and you think of her as a threat. I have also noticed that Nadine is just a bit touchy feely, like another person I know.” 

Hetty knows that he is referring to her.  

“I can’t believe I am taking love advice from a pantsless playboy,” Hetty says giving Trevor a playful push. 

“You’re letting your jealousy cloud your judgement, and you know that she wants you,” Trevor stands up,” I think that’s enough psychology for me. If you’ll excuse me (y/n) and have Super Mario Tournament.” 

Late Christmas Eve/ month 2

"Hey look more mistletoe! We should hang it for the guests. Maybe the ghosts can get in on the action. I’m going to go hang these up,” Nadine says as she gets up and leaves the room. 

I hear Hetty huff in annoyance, but I choose to ignore it. I pull out my phone and begin to finish my Christmas shopping online.  Hetty, Alberta, and I sit in silence. The tension in the air could be cut with a kinfe. 

“So Hetty, have you and (y/n) watched the new episode of Bodices and Barons?” Alberta says trying to break the ice. 

“I have,” Hetty says indifferently. 

“You have?” I ask in surprise. I haven’t had time to watch with Hetty as I usually would. 

“Well ofcourse, was I supposed to wait for you?” Hetty asks.

“No, of course not,” I mumble, “ I should go and see if Riley needs me or if Nadine needs my help,”

“Oh yes, maybe you two can eat cheese of each other next,” Hetty says one she is sure you’re out of earshot.

“Hetty, what has gotten into you?” Alberta hisses. 

“Oh Alberta, I do not know. Everytime she mentions her name I just feel…” Hetty can’t seem to find the right words. 

“Jealous.” Alberta says finding the word for her.

“Oh there you go using that word again,” Hetty says throwing her hands in the air infrustration while rolling her eyes. She was getting really tired of her friends throwing that term around. 

“Because that is the right word to use girl. Hetty why is it so hard for you to admit that you have feelings for her? You are going to drive her into the arms of somebody else. You know livings are very sensitive. Is it because she’s a woman?”

“No that is it not the matter at all! It’s just,” Hetty feels at a loss for words. 

“Just a moment Nadine, I think I left my phone upstairs, I’m going to run and get it,” I say.

I head back up the stairs and towards the upper living room in time to hear Hetty say, “The kiss was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened.”

I cover my mouth to keep silent, and lean in closer to the door. 

“Besides, I believe Trevor and I are going to give our relationship another try,” Hetty lies to Alberta. Though Hetty was beginning to make progress in talking about her feelings. Rome was not built in a day, she despised feeling so vulnerable in front of others. Whenever they bring up the relationship between her and (y/n), she feels as if they keep poking at the same scab. “I just need more time,” Hetty thinks to herself.

My heart drops to my stomach, and tears sting my eyes. I do not bother to hear the rest of the conversation. 

“Hetty, you know I can see straight through that bullshit,” Alberta says crossing her arms. 

“Damn it. Alberta I just need more time to process these feelings,” Hetty says. 

“Hetty you are going to process those feelings until the girl is gone. She already has one foot out the door. She is an heiress that has an obscene amount of money, she can travel and find love anywhere. She isn’t obligated to stay here, yet she has stayed for almost a year her head in clouds over you, a ghost. If she wanted a living, I’m sure she would have one by now,” Alberta says. 

“Exactly! What do I have to offer her? The girl has everything she could ever want and she can go anywhere she wants while I am stuck here. I am not meant to have my happy ending this easy, it has never been that way so should it start now,” Hetty says in defeat.

Christmas morning / month 2

“Are these dinosaur nuggets and dinosaur cookie cutters?!” Isaac gasps. He runs over to me and embraces me in a hug. 

“This is the best gift I have been given in all my life and afterlife. Thank you! When can we cook these?” Isaac asks.

“I’ll turn the oven on as soon as we’re done here,” I tell him. 

“Last but certainly not least, Hetty it’s your turn to open your gift!” I say pulling her gift from under the tree. 

I hand Hetty her gift, and I wait in anticipation for her to open it. 

“Maybe it’s the nerve for her to finally ask (y/n) out” Pete whispers to Alberta. Alberta elbows Pete and bites her cheek to keep from laughing. 

Hetty tears away at the wrapping paper to reveal paints, brushes, and a canvas. Hetty feels her heart flutter in chest. She only mentioned she enjoyed painting once and how she missed. Now (y/n) has given her the chance to take up the hobby again. Hetty begins to examine the brushes and paint. She feels tears begin to prick her eyes, and she tries to push down the emotion.

“I would wrapped the easel, but feel it would have given away the surprise. Nadine and I left it upstairs in my room, and we’ll move to any place you want when you’re ready” I say nervously noticing Hetty hasn’t spoken yet. 

“I helped her pick out the paints!” Nadine says in excitement placing a hand on my shoulder. 

Immediately Hetty looks up and at Nadine and I. The look in her eyes a mix of hurt and anger. Again I find myself confused as to what I could have done.

“They went on a shopping together. They probably even went on a date” Hetty thinks to herself. 

“I’ve had better,” Hetty says indifferently before placing the gifts on her lap. In fact Hetty knew that these paints and brushes were some of the best. She couldn’t help the jealous monster that always rears its ugly head at the worst moments. 

"Oh well, I can take them back and get you something better,” I say a bit crestfallen and my voice gets thick with emotion. 

Um actually I have to-" I say fumbling for an excuse to leave the room before I start crying in front of them.

“Whichever one of you made my friend cry, that was rude!” Nadine calls out to the before running after me. 

“Yeah” Riley says and follows behind Nadine. 

All eyes left in the room turn towards Hetty. 

“This third time this month you make her cry,” Thor says. 

“Yeah it’s really starting bring everyone down,” Flower says. 

"Alright Hetty, we all  are getting tired of this game. If you cause her to leave, we are going to have major issues,” Alberta says. 

“Don’t be so dramatic Bertie, she isn’t going anywhere,” Hetty says. 

“Well actually, she is planning a trip soon,” Pete chimes in “Sam and Jay are coming back since renovations on the restaurant seem to keep moving along faster. They suggested that (y/n) take a mini vacation before they go back looking for more locations to set up another B&B. She asked me to be her trusted travel agent. She’s currently thinking beach vibes”

“You better fix this so she comes back after that vacation. I’ll be damned if I lose my duet partner to some beach heartthrob,” Alberta says storming out of the room. The other ghosts leave behind her. 

Alberta’s words from earlier echo through her mind. She already has one foot out the door. 

Christmas afternoon

Riley and Nadine walks into the room unsure if the ghosts are still in there. Specifically she needed Thor or Alberta since they had powers to help her more quickly. 

“Thor if you’re in here, can you flicker the lights,” Nadine asks crossing her fingers. 

The lights flicker. 

“Holy shit,” Riley says in disbelief. 

“Great! If Hetty is in here, if yes flicker the lights. If it is just you with the other ghosts keep the lights on” 

The lights stay on. 

“Oh this is so fun!” Nadine says clasping her hands in excitement. “Alright, I have a plan to get those two oblivious love birds alone. I remember (y/n) saying that there was a vault in the house that ghost cannot walk through. I think we lock the both of them in the vault and let them finally talk out there feelings. I am starting to go mad myself. Anyway, I need you to find a way to get Hetty into the vault, I’ll find anyway to get (y/n) in there. In an hour I need you to flicker the lights once you have Hetty in there, and then I’ll get the other in there. If this works, they’ll finally work things and if this doesn’t work God help us all,” 

Christmas evening

“Hey let us out! This isn’t funny!” I pound my fists against the vault door.

“They aren’t going to,” Hetty says inspecting her nails, “ I think I heard Pete say something about us finally talking things out and coming to terms with our feelings for each other before that door opens,”

“Oh great, I’m trapped here,” I mutter to myself knowing Hetty would never admit her feelings.

There is a moment a silence. We stand opposite of eachother as if we were going to engage in a duel. 

Hetty speaks up first, "I was jealous.”

"I'm sorry I didn't quite catch that," I say. 

“Okay you are going to make me repeat it…,” Hetty mutters to herself. 

She clears her throat before saying, “ I said…I was jealous.”

“Of Riley and I?” I ask my face scrunching in confusion.

“Of you and Nadine!” Hetty hisses.

“Why are you jealous of Nadine?” I say even more confused. 

“Oh don’t act so obtuse, you’ve been throwing yourself at her since she’s arrived.” Hetty crosses her arms. 

“Throwing myself?” I begin to stutter over the accusation, “Hetty she’s my friend what are you talking about?”  

Hetty doesn’t think before she speaks. The jealousy she’s been trying to control rears it’s ugly head once more, “You know what I speak of! You allow her to sleep in your bed, then the kissing started, and heaven knows what else y’all have been up to,” Hetty says pointing a finger at me.

“All of this because we’ve always shared a bed?! We practically grew up together having sleep overs, so yes sometimes we sleep in the same bed. There’s nothing else going on between us,” I say in disbelief. 

“So why did you kiss her?” Hetty asks

“What are you talking about?” At this point I feel exasperated going back and forth.

“Last week, I walked into your room and saw you two kissing!” Hetty raises her voice and I flinch a little not used to her doing so. 

“Hetty what you saw is not what you think it was. Also what are you doing in my room without my permission,” I say. 

“Do not try to change the subject. You have been traipsing around here like some trollop,” Hetty quickly covering her mouth as she realizes what she just said.  

Trollop. That word hit as if she hit me herself. All the frustration I’ve been holding back finally boils over. 

“Trollop?! You’ve been screwing Trevor! You want to call me a trollop when you have some friends with benefits situation going on, and you want me to just sit and wait for you look like some sad little puppy,” I say raising my voice. 

“I was not aware that you knew I-”

I cut Hetty off,“I know everything that goes on around here. It’s kind of my job. Plus I’ve seen you throwing yourself at him. How you two have been “meeting”, and how you hold on to him way more than you used to. I have been trying to talk to you for weeks, and you avoid me. Now you want to say it’s because you were jealous?”

“You are quite observant,” Hetty says quietly. 

“We became so close, we kissed, and then you shut me out. You didn’t talk to me, we stopped going on our walks, you watched our show without me!” I say, “I felt so out place watching you and Trevor sneak around. I cried to Nadine over the phone over a week about that. I began to my feelings towards you were misguided. That maybe I had overstepped a boundary, and I should apologize. Then you tell me you’re jealous of Nadine’s and I relationship. I don’t know what to think anymore. Hetty do you want me or not?”

“Ofcourse I want you!” Hetty admits

“Then why do you keep toying with my emotions?” I ask. 

“Darling, I am not a woman who used to these feelings. In fact I have never felt them at all. That night we danced, I felt as if we were the only two people that mattered, and when I finally kissed you…” Hetty closes her eyes reminiscing on the memory before continuing, “I felt as if my world were finally complete. I never felt that way about the painter I almost married nor the man I did marry. Then Nadine showed up, and I admit I did not like the idea of her being in your bed. I saw you two interact in way I wish I could with you. She ate chocolate off of you, I mean that ignited a fantasy I was not aware I had. You make me feel things that I didn’t know were possible, and to feel those feelings in the afterlife is overwhelming to say the least. I cannot give you what it is that you’ll truly want. We could start this relationship, and you can leave at any point. You can walk away, I cannot.” 

“Hetty I’m not leaving,” I say.

Hetty begins, “Pete said -”

I cut Hetty off again, “I assuming Pete told you I was going on vacation. I do not think Pete would have said I’m leaving without said explanation.”

“He may have mentioned that,”Hetty says with a sniff. 

“Darling, you have to stop jumping to conclusions. I need you be upfront with me, and I will be upfront with you. I am sorry if I have been pushing you past your comfort level, if it felt like I was rushing you that was not my intention. I also apologize for Nadine, she can be a little flirt but I assure she is harmless. We only kissed under the mistletoe because she said she wasn’t going to kiss Riley and guests were out of the question. I was like a last ditch option.” I say grabbing her hand. 

“I’m sorry too. I promise to talk you instead of jumping to conclusions. I know that Nadine is a wonderful friend to you, and I apologize for letting my judgment get clouded. I should have been more upfront with you,”

Hetty and I embrace in a hug, and I melt into the embrace. 

“You know, we probably have this moment to ourselves a little longer than we think,” Hetty says suggesrively. 

Without further hesitation, I grab Hetty by the shoulders and kiss her forcefully. It was a messy kiss, our teeth clinked and our noses mashed into each other. It was not as graceful as our first kiss was.It’s if a dam broke, and all of the frustration and tension have come rushing over. Our hands paw at eachother, with Hetty having the upperhand on feeling skin action. Hetty soon takes charge and backs me up against the wall. 

Hetty pulls away from the kiss and takes a closer look at what I’m wearing. “I have to tell you, this little Mrs.Claus number is really turning me on…way more than I thought it would ” Hetty’s voice in that low tone she sometimes speaks in.

“Yeah? You don’t think the short skirt and pushed up cleavage is too trollopy?” I tease, “I was hoping you would enjoy this as part of your Christmas present.” 

This would not be the time to add that Nadine suggest I wear it to see if it got a rise out of Hetty during gift opening. 

“Well it is a very nice present,” Hetty says her finger tracing the low cut fur collar of the shirt. Her eyes meet mine, and I see her pupils are blown. I’m sure mine are no better. 

“How about you unwrap me, and see what’s underneath,” I say pulling her back into a searing kiss.

90 minutes later

“Did you two finally get it over with?” Trevor as you two emerge from the vault.

I blush and look to see Hetty smirking at the double meaning of that phrase. 

“Yes I believe we are on the same page, are we not (y/n)?” Hetty replies first.

“I would have to agree with the Lady of the House,” I say adjusting my hair. 

“ Oh (y/n), your shirt is on inside out,” Isaac points out tilting his head in confusion.

“Oh um that is actually the style isn’t it Hetty?” I say quickly looking for Hetty to back me up. 

Hetty scrunches her eyebrows and looks to me wondering why I brought her into this.

“Oh yes, she was explaining to me in the vault that inside out fashion is new trend,” Hetty says grabbing your and hurriedly walking you out of the room. The last thing Hetty wants is for them to get any ideas.

“That was a hickey on (y/n)’s neck wasn’t it?” Pete asks.

“Yup,” Trevor says.

“They screwed each other didn’t they?” Alberta asks already knowing the answer

“Big time,” Trevor replies. 

“I wonder if they’ll have a third,” Flower chimes in.

A/n: Finally am I right? Thank you for continuing to read my little drabbles! Don't forget I take requests!

[zyafics]

5SOS AND RAFE IS SO REAL why have i not seen this crossover in the obx fandom

RIGHT RIGHT RIGHTT!!!!

listen. listen. LISTEN. i'm going to go into a whole spiral to break this shit down.

"No Shame" is giving rafe down bad for reader who isn't necessarily committed to him but he's willing to do anything she's willing to give him (almost giving play fake's reader!) and he's only happy and satisfied if she pays him attention

"Wildflower" is giving rafe and bsf!reader type of energy, where he only lets her in and only wants her and no one else because no one can satisfy him like her?? anything she does, anything she is is enough for him and the only one to pull these emotions from him??

"Best Years" has SO MUCH angst and happy ending potential because rafe and reader are ex lovers whom rafe fucked up with when he was younger and realizing she's the one and doing everything to take her back?? it's his grief, his unbecoming love that wants her and only her? yeah. he's willing to become the man she deserves after all these years and only will it be her turn to make the decision on whether she accepts it or not??

"Not In The Same Way" my baby, my favorite song, my absolute banger on repeat!! this is giving rafe and reader being right person, wrong time. they either love each other at incompatible times such as when she sees him as a friend and he sees her at a lover, or vice versa OR they're ex lovers who love each other but rafe is still in love with her after all these times despite them hooking up for old time sake and she's trying to move on (telling him to 'go') but she keeps coming back to rafe because of all the love she had for him and how it's such a comfort to be with him SO SO SO MUCH ANGST, SO SO SO MUCH HURT/NO COMFORT 😭

"Lover of Mine" i haven't been listening to this one that much and i've been skipping it HOWEVER the picture i'm getting is post s1 rafe where all he's seen as is a fuck-up for all the choices he made and in the midst of his anger, he pushed reader away and this time she LEFT and when he gets her back?? he's doing everything to keep her

"Kill My Time" this song is severely underrated because no one mentions what a BANGER and BARS THIS MAN THROWS OUT like okay okay listen. i'm a huge believer that rafe is the type of person who, when he knows what he wants, he goes after it 110%, no breaks. like especially with reader when he knows she's the one?? yeah, that's his girl. absolutely. no doubt about it. like, just imagine they're on a break because she needs time away from him and to find herself and see if other people are better fitand rafe is over here in LOVE with this girl? absolute devotion. no other girls can measure up to reader??

AND AND, IS THIS SPECIFIC LINE NOT RAFE?? "he's only got half of your heart, cause i got the other part?" the COCKINESS and AUDACITY of this man when he sees u on a date with someone else?? yeah. yeah. i'm fucking obsessed.

okay i'm done, i cannot analyze this entire album for yall, i do not have the strength and emotions to handle all these imagines with rafe 😭 hope u like my descend into madness 🫡🤞🏻

[ash5monster01]

Truths of Our Past Part 8

Pairing: Older!Charlie Dalton x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, angst, mentions of nudity, mentions of infertility, mentions of suicide, depression, depressing thoughts, past trauma, facing trauma, romance, understanding, fluff.

Summary: You had met Charlie in University, were married shortly after, and had become accustomed to a beautiful life together. When you receive a wedding invitation to one of Charlie’s previous classmates weddings you discover that Charlie had a dark past, one he had been trying to forget. In the midst of it all you try to help him through it while finding out that he’s not the guy you thought you married at all. Maybe he’s even better.

word count: 5k (It’s gonna be a long one folks)

Part 7 ←→ Part 9

Masterlist

10/10/69

Day 8/8

You and Charlie never got the chance to talk the rest of the day considering Todd had come home with them to spend the night apart from his soon to be wife. Chris had used this and your fight as an excuse for you girls to have a sleepover in her room and kick Knox out. The boys didn’t put up much of a fight and Knox ended up sleeping in his easy chair and Todd on the couch. Then the next morning Chris had you out the door before Charlie was even awake and over to Ann’s house where the bridal party was to be getting ready for the big day. Chris had been much more lenient on you after you stayed up late, curled under the covers, telling her everything that happened with Charlie.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up” Ann spoke from the chair where Maggie delicately worked on pinning her blonde curls up.

“You’re not going to throw up” Maggie told her, giving her a stern look through the mirror and you lightly hit Chris for turning to look since you had been trying to curl her hair.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet” Rachel smirked through her own mirror, hands slowly putting eye shadow on.

“Not cold feet, I’m just scared of being in front of such a big crowd. I mean I’ve never kissed anyone in front of my parents and now I have to in front of hundreds of people” and you were snorting a laugh as she lightly panicked because you remembered not very long ago it was you in that chair with the same kind of worries.

“Ann when you get out there and you see him in that suit you’re not even gonna know the crowd is there. You’ll be to happy to be with him” you told her, remembering exactly what Charlie looked like when those church doors opened. Not even a car accident could’ve got you to turn away from him.

“Is that what happened with you?” she curiously asked and you smiled, hands slowing as you worked on Chris’ hair.

“I was in a panic about kissing in front of his parents. They were so strict and I still couldn’t even tell if they liked me. Chris had to fix my hair three times because I wouldn’t stop pacing. Then the doors opened and as I was praying my Dad wouldn’t let me fall I saw Charlie. He smiled so big the second he saw me and those brown eyes of his were all misty and I thought to myself ‘If this man loves me enough to be emotional in front of a hundred people then I can kiss the shit out of him in front of anyone’.” and all the girls awed as you recalled this story and Ann seemed to instantly calm down as you explained the worries of your own wedding day.

“What about now?” she asked and you gave her a confused look. She almost looked sheepish over asking the question. “It’s just, you and Charlie weren’t talking yesterday and you left the church without us”

“Oh, that” you nodded, eyes dropping to Chris’ hair that you were putting the finishing touches on. Chris shot you a nervous look through the mirror, indicating you didn’t have to talk about it if you didn’t want to.

“What do you mean ‘oh that’, I thought we were in the antarctic based on the cold front you were giving him” Rachel snorted out and Maggie tried to suppress her giggles but you noticed anyway. Deciding you didn’t want to make things awkward by hiding it you spoke.

“I suggested us moving here and he shot it down before I could even really explain why” you said and the girls all silently nodded as they processed your answer. They could feel your sadness and they weren’t sure if they should continue to joke or not.

“Why wouldn’t he want to live here?” Maggie curiously asked and Ann reached around to pinch her to which she just yelped. “What was that for?!”

“This town brings up a lot of bad memories for him and I guess the good still doesn’t outweigh the bad” you sighed, trying your best not to cry. You were struggling with so much more under the surface. You had been trying to make it not seem like a big deal to Charlie that you hadn’t gotten pregnant yet. You were just trying to be okay and do things that would make you happy, moving here would make you happy.

“Maybe it’s a good thing, he wants you to have him somewhere he can be himself” Rachel suggested and you shook your head, moving to sit now that Chris’ hair was done.

“He’s more himself here than anywhere else, he just doesn’t realize it. I think he lets Neil’s death hold him back because whenever we visit he laughs more, sleeps better, and seems more like the guy he was before I knew him” you told her because it was all true. You think he was just scared that maybe this town could be where bad things happen, that the further he is from it there is no chance of him or anyone else getting hurt.

“I’d give it time” but he had ten years already. Maybe he didn’t know how to cope, he needed to learn a way to bear the pain. Ten years is a long time to hold yourself back from a life without worry and guilt.

“Sorry I’m late, my Mom forgot to wake me up” Laine burst through the door, looking completely fresh for just waking up as young sixteen year old girl. You were thankful for the distraction, the turn of the conversation.

“Come here kiddo, I’ll do your hair”

It wasn’t long until you were all lined outside the church. Ann’s guests, the pastor, and Todd all behind that door. The boys had obviously shared some whiskey in celebration because your husband smelled just like it. You liked how alcohol could mellow him out. His eyes were glassy from the burn of alcohol and he looked handsome as ever in his tux. You missed him, you hated giving him the cold shoulder, so even if you hadn’t entirely forgiven him you walked to his side anyway, arm interlocking with his own. Slowly you tipped up on your toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. He gave you a look of surprise and adoration, clearly having missed you himself. He wasn’t entirely sure where the sudden affection was coming from and you felt guilt rush through you as he clearly tried to figure out the best way to approach you.

“I’m still upset but I also love you more than life itself. Not many people get to walk down the aisle twice” you told him, head falling to lay on his shoulder. Even though he hated not talking to you it also gave him time to think, to go over a lot of stuff in his head that he hadn’t before.

“Yeah, but we do” he grinned and as if he cued it himself the church doors opened and the wedding planner started to count each couple off, urging you all out of the door where the guests had turned to look.

You held onto Charlie like it was your wedding day all over again, pouring out love for him as best you could while still holding your ground in your argument. You needed something to change, something to feel good about while you waited to have the family you always dreamed of having. Yet your thoughts were cut short as Charlie’s grip on your arm tightened and you looked up to see a large picture of Neil had been placed on the alter, right behind Todd in line with the groomsmen of boys.

“He’s so handsome” you whisper and Charlie felt a soft smile cover his face as he processed what Todd had done. He had made it possible for Neil to be in his wedding and it had worked because it felt like he really was there. It had felt like that all week and maybe that was why Charlie had struggled so much.

“Figures, Neil always showed up looking better than me” Charlie whispered back and you were suppressing your giggles as you got to the front where you’d have to part and move to your correct sides of the alter.

“Girls always like guys who put little effort into their looks better anyways” and Charlie was gasping at you and you gave him an evil grin and moved to stand beside the girls who had made their way down the aisle before you.

You didn’t have much time to laugh at your evilness because Ann was coming down the aisle prettier than ever. You loved weddings and now you could stand here and try to hold back tears as Todd cried while saying his vows. Behind him was his brother and all the Dead Poets including Neil. The idea of Neil getting to stand with all of them as their friend got married made your heart soar. Especially since you had made Charlie feel more happy than sad that a picture of Neil was beside them instead of the real thing. Then pretty soon Todd was kissing his wife and you were all heading to the reception hall, still soaring over happiness and family that filled the room. You felt the same when you got to the reception to find there had been a chair reserved for Neil again.

“Todd, this came for you. It’s marked urgent” Rachel said as she rushed over to the wedding party table. Todd furrowed his eyebrows as she slipped the envelope in his hand.

“It’s from Keating” he muttered after inspecting it, a wide smile creeping across his face. The rest of the Dead Poets shared shocked and excited looks as they glanced at him.

“Open it!” Charlie urged, eager to know the contents inside. Todd carefully opened the envelope. Slipping the letter out and trying to hold back his glee.

“What are you waiting for? Read it!” Knox quipped and the boys agreed, them practically buzzing in their seats knowing Todd held the first words they’ve gotten from Keating in ten years. Quickly he cleared his throat before reading.

“Dear Todd, I am sorry I could not be in attendance of the big day. It would’ve been exhilarating to see the mousy boy who couldn’t even read a poem in my class recite vows in front of hundreds of people. In all honesty I don’t have to be in an attendance to know what will happen. I’m sure the man you’ve grown to be recited his vows loud and clear to convey the love you hold for the undoubtably wonderful girl you’re marrying. For Todd you have always been quiet but inside you’ve always held an outpouring amount of love for the people around you. If there is anything I’m most sorry about is not fighting hard enough for you boys all those years ago. I know not to worry too much, all of you too strong and hard headed for your own good. Especially Charles. Me and my wife have sent along a gift I hope you will use for years to come but I’ve also included a letter for Charlie. I know it’s your wedding day but until now I’ve had no way of knowing how to reach the boy. This letter has come ten years too late and for that I hope he can forgive me. I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately and during that I’ve found all of you. My best wishes Todd, love the Captain”

All heads turned to Charlie as Todd slid the letter to reveal another behind it. Charlie was unmoving, not saying a word as Todd shakily handed it to him because he knew that hand writing. The soft and low swung loops of Charlie’s name inked across the front. Charlie knew too and no one said a word as he slid the chair away from the table and rushed out of the reception hall. He needed to be alone. They all knew it and you did too. So you let him go so he could have a moment alone with the words of his lost friend. Once safe at a bench far enough away he couldn’t hear the music coming from the hall, he unfolded the letter with shaky hands.

Charlie,

I’m sure you’re angry with me. In fact I know you are. What you need to know though is this was my only choice. The only way I could be free. Please know I would never willingly leave you behind like that. You’re my best friend, my first friend. The greatest and most confident guy I know. I always wanted to be you. To face the world head on like you did. That’s why I know you’re going to be okay. I don’t have to be sad about not seeing the rest of your life because I know what’ll happen. You’ll graduate and go to some big fancy school. You won’t be nervous because not even the school will be big enough for you. Then you’ll meet a girl, a nice one, not some ditz you tricked into going out with you. In fact in my version of things she’s going to be the one to seek you out because a real women doesn’t need to be wooed by the charms of Charles Dalton to see him for who he is. Then you’re going to love that girl for the rest of your life because if my friend Charlie is anything at all he is loyal. Loyal to me, to the Dead Poets, and to the people that care for him.

You don’t need me for all of this, I’ll be there watching anyway. I’ll be there for your wedding and the birth of your kids which I know will be named after me because let’s face it, you love me too much. Then I’ll be there to watch them grow up and help them through the same hardships we faced growing up. I’ll do that for all the Dead Poets kids because we now know what it feels like to suck all the marrow out of life and not be sad when it’s our time to leave it. I’m not sad, I got to do what I loved tonight. Now I’ll get to do what I love the rest of my life while watching the people I love do it too. Tell the boys I love them, that I’ll miss them. I’m sure they know it, especially Todd. Todd is going to be okay too, I know it. The only person I couldn’t bear not saying goodbye to is you. You were the first person in my life that made me feel loved the way I was and as my life ends I know it to still be true. My dear friend Charlie, the one who always knew my worth. You’re perfect the way you are and I can’t wait to see you do everything I know you can accomplish in this lifetime and the next. After all only Nuwanda can face the challenges life holds and still make something of himself.

Always with you, Neil

A large sob broke past Charlie lips as he gripped the paper in his hand. He clutched it to his chest as he cried harder than he ever did over Neil’s death. In fact he wasn’t sure he ever got to cry for him. When he got the call he didn’t have time to cry because he had the job of informing everyone else. Then he was expelled and his parents were too mad to offer a shoulder for him to grieve on. He had never cried for the loss of his best friend and now here in his hands was a letter frozen in time from ten years ago. Somehow Keating had it and all this time Charlie had no idea he had been trying to reach him. So he cried harder than he had in his whole life, face red, and snot coming out of his nose.

“Oh Charlie” and then Knox was wrapped around his friend, Charlie gripping onto him instead of letter. The other boys stood there, tears in their eyes as Charlie held onto Knox as if he would somehow leave him too.

“It’s okay Charlie” Todd said with a sniffle, delicately removing the letter from his hand that was crushed against Knox’s back. He knew it was something he had to keep. It wasn’t the kind of thing you just lost track off.

“He told me goodbye Todd. He told me goodbye and I was stupid enough to get myself expelled and never know he did” Charlie sobbed against Knox and Todd sat on the other side of him, trying not to cry at the sight of Knox quietly crying in his shoulder.

“Maybe it happened for a reason. At least you have it now and maybe it’ll give you the closure you need” He told him and Charlie slowly started to calm down.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be over the fact he’s gone” Charlie told him and Knox slowly pulled back, keeping one arm around his friends shoulders.

“None of us are” Knox told him, free wrist wiping at the tears in his eyes.

“Yeah Charlie, Neil is not the kind of friend you just get over” Meeks told him as he moved around the bench to face him.

“Neil was the best of us, you don’t just get over that” Pitts said joining his red headed friend and Charlie let out a breath, finally calmed down from his minor moment. A moment that came ten years too late.

“We miss him together, that’s how this works” Todd reminded him and Charlie sighed, getting his breathing back to normal.

“I need to see my wife” he finally said and the group nodded as he stood and began to round the bench. Yet he stopped in his tracks fairly quickly because there you stood in your mint green bridesmaids dress, shawl drawn tightly around your arms to keep away the autumn chill. The tears in your eyes were a strong indication that you had found him just as the boys had in an absolute wreck.

“We don’t have to move here Charlie, it’s okay” and then you were turning around and walking back towards the reception. He had his friends to comfort him, after all you didn’t know Neil like they did. Ann’s wedding deserved to be one filled with happy memories and after seeing how badly Charlie broke down over that letter you no longer wanted to fight for this place. You’d just make do because you loved your husband more than anything else. If Vermont reminded him of things that would make him react like that then you didn’t want to live here either.

“Is everything okay?” Chris curiously asked you as you returned to your seat and you nodded, reaching for the champagne in front of you.

“Yeah, it’s all good”

It wasn’t long until the boys had returned. Their previous teary frowns replaced with wide and laughing smiles. After that the wedding picked right up again. The champagne had allowed you to mellow out and enjoy the festivities. You laughed at the correct place in each of the speeches and cried as Ann and Todd took their first dance as a married couple. The wedding was perfect and based on the smiles on both their faces you knew the marriage would be a success too. As the rest of the weddings guests joined the couple on the dance floor you could only laugh from your empty seat at the table as you watched Pitts attempt a swing dance with Meeks.

“Don’t let them fool you, this isn’t the first time they’ve danced together” Charlie’s voice made you freeze as he slipped in Chris’ empty seat beside you.

“That doesn’t surprise me” you said trying your best not to tear your eyes away from them and look at Charlie.

“I’m sorry” he finally said after a beat and you sighed, your head dropping between your shoulders.

“No, I am. I shouldn’t have pushed” you said, the tears starting to prick at your eyes again.

“No Y/N, you should have. I needed a push” his hand was squeezing your own and you lifted your head, a look of confusion flooding your face as you looked at him.

“But Charlie, I saw you out there” but he was shaking his head and cutting you off.

“That letter took me back to that night, the emotions seventeen year old me should have felt when I got that call. You were right though, that I was letting it hold me back and after the closure this letter has given me I know that now” and the hand that wasn’t holding your own was passing the letter over to you. You gave him an unsure look but he urged you anyway until you were reading the letter for yourself.

“Wow, he- he really knew you” you said, tears for both him and Neil now rimming your eyes.

“He predicted you. Our love, and if it’s any indication I think it means he was there the day we met. He sent you to me, an angel on earth” Charlie told you, heart still thrumming over the fact Neil had somehow conjured you up three years before he ever even knew you.

“That’s possible, I wasn’t normally the kind of girl to approach strangers on public transportation” and Charlie was laughing, lifting your hand to press a kiss to it.

“I’m glad I was the lucky one then” he told you and a smile finally broke across your face and you leaned closer to your husband. This was the closest you had felt to him since the drive up here. You hated feeling so distant.

“I’ll always choose you Charlie, over everyone” you grinned at him and he smiled as he leaned the rest of the way to press a small kiss to your lips.

“Well that’s good because I bought a house” and your eyes grew wide as he nonchalantly drank from the whisky glass in front of him.

“You what?!” you exclaimed and he chuckled lightly as he set the glass down and turned back to you.

“Todd’s Uncle is a real estate agent. He told me over at the open bar that a town house three down from Knox and Chris had been put on the market. Great condition, two stories, four bedrooms, and three and half baths. I made an offer” you were gaping like a fish, trying to process how all of this could happened in the last hour and half since he had received that letter.

“So we, when? How?” you we’re questioning and Charlie was smiling as he drew you close to him.

“Look that letter made me realize a lot of things. One being that I want to stay close to my friends for as long as I get to have them around, two was realizing I never recovered or learned how to cope with Neil’s death, and three was that my behavior all this time had been hurting you as a result” and you were shaking your head, trying to tell him it was okay but he held his hand up to stop you.

“So I’m buying a house close to my friends, I’m going to see a therapist even if I think it’s a scam the entire time, and I’m going to give you the life we always wanted to have together” and then you were kissing him as hard as you could, hugging him close because the man in front of you was the one you loved more than anything. A perfect mixture of who he was and who he turned out to be. Your Charlie.

“I love you Charles, forever and ever” you told him, arms wound tightly around his neck and he grinned right back, pushing some hair out of your face.

“I love you too Mrs Dalton, forever and ever” he told you right back and you smiled as you pulled away and grabbed your own glass.

“Well now that we have this all cleared up did I tell you I ran into Richard Cameron” and whiskey was spluttering out of Charlie’s mouth as you deviously giggled, knowing you’d receive that reaction.

“You ran into who?” he asked, using Chris’ napkin to wipe his chin and the small mess he had made.

“He gave me a ride home when he saw me walking in the cold after the rehearsal. I have to say he is not at all like you had described. He actually seemed a little morose about the whole thing” and Charlie felt all five stages of grief rush through him as he thought of that fink. He had always hated Cameron and yet he felt the smallest part of him curious as to what his old pal had turned out like.

“Keating would be proud of me” Charlie said after a moment, having processed your words.

“Why’s that?” you asked and he smiled back at you, remembering the good times for once.

“Because I married a girl who uses the word morose instead of very sad” and even if you didn’t know what it entirely meant you were grinning anyways, pecking his lips.

“Well you also married a girl who likes to find trouble, want to help me bust Meeks and Maggie in the storage closet?” and Charlie was gaping at you now, shocked and surprised at the behavior of the woman he married.

“How?” he simply asked and you just chuckled, finishing of your champagne.

“I spotted them leaving the dance floor hand and hand about twenty minutes ago. That means right about now would be a good time to catch them before we see too much” and Charlie was matching your devious grin as he grabbed your hands and lifted you from the chair.

“Lead the way my beautiful wife” and you smiled widely as the two of you rushed off to cause trouble and make Todd’s wedding more than memorable.

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life causing trouble with you” you told him as you reached the storage closet door and Charlie smiled wide.

“That’s a good thing, because trouble is what I do best” he said and you both were gripping the door handle, devious eyes sparkling into each others as you swung the door open wide just to be met with the screams of both Maggie and Meeks. They both stood in their undergarments, lips red and swollen as they made out in the closet. You almost toppled over at the sight of Meeks boxers, white with red hearts.

“What the hell Charlie!” Meeks was yelling as Maggie tried to cover herself and you giggled into your hand.

“Careful Maggie, he barely knows how to use that thing!” Charlie teased before slamming the door back shut and you both laughed before joining hands and rushing off down the hall.

“I’ll kill you Charlie” Meeks yelled as he peaked his head back out the door but neither of you cared as you laughed and joined the wedding that had no clue what you were up too.

“I have the best wife” Charlie said as you both rushed to the center of the dance floor, safe from the wrath of Meeks. You wrapped your arms around his neck, falling into step with him as you joined the dance.

“And I have the best husband” you told him softly before you both laughed again, the image of Meeks in heart covered boxers undoubtedly to be funny forever.

“What did you two do?” Todd accused, him and Ann now dancing beside you. You snorted out a laugh again at the memory.

“You wouldn’t believe us” Charlie said and you were hiding your face in his chest as the laughter bellowed through you.

“As long as my cake doesn’t explode on us I really don’t care” he was saying and Charlie laughed, happiness filling the room.

“Hey Todd, what did Keating give you as a gift?” Knox asked as him and Chris danced over to join all of you.

“A desk set” and the soft smile on Todd’s face conveyed it meant so much more than just a simple desk set.

“That’s Keating for you” Knox nodded and the group fell in a comfortable silence, slowly dancing to the music that surrounded them.

“Y/N bumped into Cameron” and shocked yells came from each poet around you to which you just laughed.

“In my defense I didn’t know it was him right away” but they still questioned you, clearly shocked and surprised by the random encounter that had happened.

“Man, I can’t believe he’s still around” Todd said with the shake of his head and Knox just shrugged.

“I bump into him a lot, kind of comes with the territory” he explained and Charlie snorted.

“I’d love to see the two of you duke it out in a court of law” and Knox was just rolling his eyes at his hyperactive best friend. Only Charlie could conjure up an image of an actual fight between the two.

“That’s not really how it works” he was muttering and Charlie just grinned because he liked to get under his friends skin.

“Hey guys, have you seen Meeks?” Pitts was asking as he approached the three couples and the laughs that came from both you and Charlie indicated you knew exactly where he was.

“Not sure Pittsie, but when you see him ask him if I can borrow his boxers sometime” Charlie said and Pitts furrowed his eyebrows in confusion but stalked off nonetheless to find his friend.

“You’re bad” you told him, smiling wide because tonight had turned out so much better than you could’ve ever imagined. Tonight in fact was the best night you had ever had.

“Yeah but good thing for me that you all love it” he was telling you and you nodded, head coming to rest on his chest.

“That’s true, and I wouldn’t change a thing”

Taglist: @octaviasdread @miaandthediamonds @cherrybabyssssss @inky-sun

I’ve added people I figured would enjoy, if anyone wants to be added or removed let me know <3

[yunzzzcludd]

caged ˏˋ°•

woosan(ft woohwa)

ੈ✩‧₊“I was born to love you, to love you with all my heart”

Pairing: angel!san x angel!wooyoung (ft demon!seonghwa)

genre: angst

side note: woohwa as a side ship,blood,sharp objects, contains killing, don’t expect a happy ending lol, idk if I missed smth.

A/N: Hiii it’s yun. My first ever oneshot is posted yayy. It was in my drafts for a while and I took inspo from a YouTube I watched idk hehet, yeah I guess that’s it. I will post more in the future but hope you’ll enjoy this! I enjoy writing bxb more butttt I’ll try writing readerxmember soon! Anyways hope you all have a great day <3 (and I wrote this at like 2am soooo I’m sorry for any grammatical errors :,(

“Till death do us apart”

the world of heavens took a downturn indeed. When demon Seonghwa came destroying that palace. Just to find one specific angel. Jung Wooyoung, he has been in love with him, or obsessed, to the fact that he captured him and trapped him into the midst of darkness. Inside a small cage, no one. Keeping Wooyoung to himself.

———————————————————————-

This day when the demon decided to surprise his “lover” with a bouquets of flowers, roses, hibiscus, sunflowers, all of Wooyoung’s favourites wrapped into a sweet bundle. Thinking that the angel would finally accept to be his. He flew off to the depths of hell.

In the dark, cold atmosphere, Wooyoung sat in his lonely cage, the silver bars reflected his face. The once beautiful and warm angel now turned into an emotionless, cold one. As if he’s never moved from his position, he didn’t even bother to look when Seonghwa’s footsteps slowly approached.

“wooyoung! I brought you flowers!”

Hell if he was going to accept them, Wooyoung thought.

“Leave me alone.”

“But those are your favourite!” The demon retorted. Wooyoung finally snapped his head towards Seonghwa’s direction. Face pale and angry.

“Do you understand? I’ll never love you! NEVER!” with a flick of his hand, Wooyoung slapped the bouquet away, leaving it flying across the room. The rosy petals started to withered. Like the colour of Wooyoung’s face.

Seonghwa stared at the scattered flowers, stunned by Wooyoung’s sudden outburst.

“You can’t just do that! I picked those by heart! Why can’t you just accept it?!” Seonghwa raised his voice, his booming voice echoing the room.

Wooyoung’s went silent. He knew he messed up, the demon is pissed. So pissed.

Seonghwa stood up, looking down at Wooyoung’s figure in the cage. His face darkens. “we’ll see about that.” With a snap of his finger, a loud thud was heard.

Wooyoung glanced, eyes widening and he saw the scene.

A boy with broken wings, bloodied and bruised. His black hair falling slightly, covering his eyes, hands bond behind his back.

It was no other than San.

Wooyoung’s love.

“SAN..!” Wooyoung yelled, clutching around the cold cage bars. He was trying to reach for him. He needed to hold him, be with him.

Seonghwa smirked at the sight, then held a sharp pendant in his hand. It was like a small knife-the hell’s gift. He showed it to Wooyoung, eyes flickered with hope.

“If you promise to be mine. He’ll be free.”

Wooyoung hesitated, he wanted San to be safe. But what about him? Will he ever see San again? Is his love life really over? His freedom? Everything?

Wooyoung was about to take the pendant when San’s raspy voice was heard.

“NO! No..Woo please-“

Wooyoung ached at San’s vulnerable state. He hated that he couldn’t protect him. He hated that he couldn’t be by his side when he most needed him.

The angel gathered his breath. Looking up at Seonghwa was cold determined eyes.

“I refuse, not in a millions times, will I ever promise to be with you.”

The angel really pushed his buttons, Seonghwa was enraged, throwing the pendant on the floor, splitting it into pieces.

“You dont know how much i can treat you better than him! You ungrateful brat!” Seonghwa spat.

On the other hand, San gave a weak smile, looking at Wooyoung.

“You’ll find someone better my love.”

“NO! SAN! I want to be with you! No one, only you.”

“Please be happy okay? Move on and do what you love. I’ll always be here. So don’t worry?”

Wooyoung chocked on his own tears, he can’t actually stop them.

“You idiot. You better promise that- you..promised to bring me to the white castle-“

San let out a weak chuckle.

“I did didn’t I? Believe me. I’ll bring you there.”

Wooyoung tears were uncontrollably falling. He tried wiping it away. But it wouldn’t stop.

“Till death do us apart Woo- I love you so so much”

“I love-“ San’s voice was cut off, he collapsed on the ground, blood soaking the floor, just under the dead angel’s cold lifeless body.

“San?…San wake up..this is not funny wake up! CHOI SAN!!”

Wooyoung banged hard on the bars, trying to break free, wanted to hug San’s body. He lost everything. Even the love of his life. Now he’s all alone again. Back in the dark void.

Seonghwa just watched the scene with a satisfied smile.

“No one can stop us now-“

Wooyoung glared at Seonghwa, a glare full of shattered, anger and hurt.

“You..took everything from me..everything. I hate you.”

Wooyoung snatched the pendant from the floor.

“Wooyoung what the hell are you doing?!” Seonghwa panicked.

“Till death do us apart.”

Wooyoung said before blood splattered across Seonghwa’s face. Looking down to see two angel corpses lying on the cold floor.

Wooyoung’s final tears spilled out, leaving a small smile on his face when his gazed landed on San.

“I’ll find you in my next life, my love”

[wen-kexing-apologist]

4, 13, 18

4. Who is your ultimate Asian ql blorbo?

For those of you who consider Word of Honor a BL (which I do because of the original content) look no further than my user name for the most obvious response to this: Wen Kexing is my ride or die. That’s my sweet, murderous, summer child, and he has never done a single thing wrong in his life. 

For those of you who don’t consider Word of Honor a BL, I think I will have to give it to the wonderful, the marvelous…

Daisy from Secret Crush on You. 

I haven’t watched this show in awhile, but if there is one character who comes across my dashboard who I am immediately overcome with joy to see, it’s this lovely young woman right here. She’s just the sweetest person and I want nothing but happiness for her. 

13. Which Asian ql tropes get you every time?

Pinky touches, underwater kisses, any and all Happy!Sad boys, characters being asked “are you tired?”, food as love, characters being comforted in the midst of a nightmare, “I’m sorry I like you/boys/girls”, etc, etc, etc.

18. You get to pick a side character from two different qls to put in a show as a main pairing--who are you choosing and what kind of story is it?

Oh this is a fascinating question! Hear me out:

Archie from Marahuyo Project and Bas from I Told Sunset About You and I Promised You the Moon. 

If you know me, you know I love complicated characters who are good at heart and you know I love angst. So hear me out. Archie, my dear sweet boy, struggling incredibly hard with his own sexuality after the loss of a friend has a reasonably paced arc throughout Marahuyo Project where he is unable to come out by the end of the story, but he does help the Sea Creatures conduct their Pride parade by throwing rainbow confetti, so he’s starting to get a little braver. But it took the very patient and understanding love and support from Venice to get Archie to even move an inch. I think he might need someone like that to help him step back in to himself more fully. Bas is, as we know, that kind of person, and he respects himself enough to not get pushed around more than he can bear. He is very forgiving of Oh’Aew when they are together, but it comes to a point where he gives Oh up because he knows that Teh has a stronghold on him. 

If I made them a main pairing together, it would be one of those angsty but healing shows that digs in to the harsh realities of existing in a homophobic society, Archie’s internalized homophobia and grief, and how meeting someone like Bas helps him come into himself more. Archie gets love and support and Bas gets someone that won’t drop him every other day to run back to Teh. 

Asian QL Ask Game

[lychniis]

― MISTLETOE AND VISCARIA.

zhongli | rex lapis x reader.

“kiss me.” + “will you dance with me?” + fluff.

WARNING(S) : nothing much here safe for fluff, zhongli and the reader being an old married couple and sweetness that will induce terrible diabetes. also allusions to reader reincarnating and some angst if you squint ( but it's nothing serious ).

#main masterlist | flos anthalogy masterlist

“THIS ONE SOUNDS familiar…” you comment lightly when Zhongli plays a song on the radio. You can see the wistful smile on his face as he steps away from it, a look that spells an old fondness, a happy time, something that had emerged out of his treasure chest of memories ( a diamond, a ruby, a sapphire, it matters not. Zhongli always remembered the smallest of the small and he handled them all with the reverence of gold ).

“It is…” he agrees. “Come, dance with me.”

You set aside the sliced bamboo on the counter, his tone too alluring to ignore. He stands tall in the midst of that room, the light from the golden hour illuminating everything in him; the amber of his eyes, the brown of his hair and he looks godly, beautiful, ethereal — and he was, as a deity from a time long passed should. 

Zhongli takes your hand gently and he pulls you closer, his lips pressing against your temple while he leads you into a slow waltz. How romantic, you almost sigh. And how utterly Zhongli this act was, so gentle, so old fashioned yet so endearing and undeniably lovely to experience. 

“I believe…” he whispers in your ear. “This was the song that played when we met…” 

“Of course…” you breathe out and it makes sense now. “It was two lifetimes ago, yes?” you ask.

“Yes.” he affirms, twirling you. “You were the child of a perfume seller back then…you played this on the record your father owned while you were managing his store…” He pauses, then hugs you even closer, if that were possible, with the air of a man near desperation ( like he was stuck in a dream too good to be true ). “And our eyes met…”

“I thought you looked familiar.” you muse, a smile tugging up at your lips.

“And I thought you looked as beautiful as ever…” he finishes. He traces your shoulder, then your arm, slowly, carefully, his eyes lidded and you could see the years in his eyes and the adoration and the love ( a love he harbors for years and years, one that was stoked by passion as it held a warmth so soft.

A part of you always wonders if there would be a time when Zhongli would tire of you. If he would grow weary of waiting for you to return in your next life, because it was a cycle that hardly ceases, one that would weather down the patience of one too many. And it was a painful cycle, a cruel one for those who could hardly bear witnessing the unfamiliarity in a beloved’s eyes when they chance upon them.

But he never does and he always finds you. Always, waiting with a smile on his face and you’d fall in love all over again, steady as stone, unmoving as the earth he rules. Zhongli was reliable in that sense and he holds his promises as close to his heart as he does his contracts. )

“You nearly dropped the perfume bottle you wee holding…” you add with a cheeky light in your eyes. Zhongli huffs.

“Could you blame me, when you looked upon me like that?” he asks. “How cruel of you to tease me so, dear love.”

He could be playful too, in his own ways and he murmurs those words against your cheeks. You feel your cheeks grow hot and you find yourself melting, your insides warming till you were nothing but a puddle that flowed to to the whims of this silly old man. 

“Is that so? My apologies then…” your voice lowers to a soft coo and you bat your eyelashes coyly. “What can I provide in recompense to you, Mr. Zhongli, for my terrible behavior?” 

Zhongli’s smile widens. 

“A kiss perhaps?”

You find yourself smiling as well.

“How scandalous, Mr. Zhongli.” you laugh, throwing your head back while he pulls you against him. You lower your head, your nose brushing against his and there is a shared, almost bated breathlessness between the two of you that you could hardly describe ( it feels like everything, like a barrage of euphoria and tenderness and all the aches and butterflies in your stomach and the perfect longing, rolled into one heavy, restless ball in your chest ). “Kiss me, then.”

He does. His lips are on yours, gentle, coaxing and his hands are tangled in your hair, then on your cheeks and his breath tickles your lashes. He puls away for a moment, then descends upon you again.

“I love you.” he lets out breathily between each kiss. “I adore you. I love you.” 

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

requested by : @deus-lapidis

*kicks head back and screams* ZHONGLIIIIIIIIII. also, i will bet my ass nahida and venti were totally spying on him shhhhh gimme some drunk uncle and flower niece content.

taglist — @x-zho, @dustofthedailylife, @deus-lapidis, @silentmoths, @nebulaera, @niverine, @aestellia, @ofoceansandtombsanew @the-travelling-witch.

AINE © 2022. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

[fanfic-corner]

Marvel Humor Fics

As much as I love angst, I also love to laugh at some of the predicaments my poor blorbos get into! So here are some of my favourite humor fics from the Marvel fandom.

He's a Real... Bare... Devil? by 94BottlesOfSnapple (772)

The real problem with no longer wearing body armor, Matt considers, is not actually the higher risk of injury. It’s that sometimes even when you don’t get hurt, you still end up mostly-naked in an alley that smells like day-old Chinese takeout.

Daredevil manages to lose his clothes while on patrol with the Defenders. They only make fun of him a little.

Footie Pajamas by Triscribe (1.1k)

*What?* Tony demanded. *What is it, what’s wr-*

“Ohmygosh, Mister Stark! It’s too cute!” Peter beamed from ear to ear. “There’s a little girl in the car next to me wearing Spider-man footie pajamas!”

Silence reigned for a long moment, before Tony burst out laughing.

How (Not) to Meet New People by aloneintherain (1.4k)

“Why is there a teenager in our office?”

Foggy stood in the threshold of the office, mouth slightly agape, most likely wondering if he’d walked into the wrong building. The kid waved at him, smile huge under a blooming black eye and spilt lip.

“Foggy,” Matt said, far too calm for someone who was in the presence of a beaten, bloodied, teenage stranger. “This is Peter.”

oh, jesus, not the both of you! by FRAMEW0RK (1.6k)

He’s gonna pass out.

Yup, it’s happening. Foggy can only tell because he’s passed out before, when he was twelve, after he got his finger smashed in the large metal door of their cooler. The intense pain first. Then the cold flash, then the sweating, and then the spots surrounding the corners of his vision. All of that was going on. In the middle of a courtroom. Surrounded by tons of watching people.

“Mr. Nelson?” the Judge calls out. He probably looks awful. His mother told him that he went deathly pale before he passed out the first time. Didn’t she take a video? He remembers there being a video. Is the room spinning or is that just him?

“I think ’m passing out,” Foggy mumbles thickly, hand flailing out for purchase but getting nothing on his fingers. The world was starting to go underwater. Someone yelled, and then there’s this gasping sound all around and then there’s darkness and nothing.

Team Red by SalazarTipton (1.9k)

“Ned, for the last time, I’m not going as any of the Avengers! Can you imagine what would happen if they found out? They’d think I had a favorite and--” “But you do have a favorite,” Ned interjects. Peter throws one of his fries at him. “That’s not the point! They don’t know that and can I remind you that you’re forbidden to talk about that? Going to the Tower would be hellish. Can you imagine Mr. Barton and Mr. Stark trying to prove they’re the better choice?”.

when the pretty birds have flown (honey, I'm still free) by the_crown_jules (2.1k)

“I can talk to birds,” Sam said, a little more loudly than the situation warranted.

Bucky's lips twitched, a battle playing out between his attempt to take Sam seriously and his clear desire to snicker. Laughter won out, lighting up his face in a way that was becoming more and more familiar.

“You’re such an asshole. Okay, Torres, I assume you’re listening, you can go now, you’ve had your fun.” He looked around as if he’d be able to spot Torres watching them on camera. “What is this, Falcon initiation?”

New Year's Regrets by whumphoarder (2.5k)

In the midst of hosting his annual New Year’s party, Tony is called away to rescue a very impaired Peter from a rooftop in Queens.

Happy Hibernation Day by for_the_night (2.7k)

Tony and Pepper return to the tower on Valentine’s Day to find Peter asleep on the couch. Only he won’t wake up.

Good job neither pseudo-parent panics.

throw all your lucky coins on me by keep_swinging (3.2k)

i. shock (denial) ii. pain (guilt) iii. anger (bargaining) iv. depression v. the upward turn vi. working through vii. acceptance (hope)

Sorta Kinda Kidnapped by happyaspie (3.5k)

Peter gets kidnapped on his way to school. It's fine, though. He's perfectly capable of saving himself. It happens so fast and it's so uneventful that he forgets to tell Tony it even happened. Until the kidnappers call to collect their ransom.

Not Completely the Worst by mainstreamelectricalparade (4k)

Peter's spidey-sense had been going off all day. If he had to stay at school for literally another minute longer, he was probably going to go insane.

And of course, there was one person at school whose single goal in life seemed to be ensuring that that happened.

“Yo, Penis! Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Flash called after Peter as he took the steps three at a time in his attempt to make a quick getaway.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut in exasperation and kept walking. Maybe if he ignored the problem, it would go away.

Because that had always worked so well for him, in the past.

Don’t Judge a Knife by Its Color by blondsak and Grace_d and whumphoarder (4.4k)

“Whoa, hold up, hang on,” he says, taking a step closer to get a better look. The blade is probably four inches long and neon purple, while the handle is white with a friendly-looking colorful silicon grip. “Is that a toy knife? Is this a Fisher Price mugging?”

“Fuck you, Spidey,” the mugger replies, fumbling for the knife before scrambling back to his feet and brandishing the weapon at Peter.

Or, Peter is stabbed by a misleading knife, Tony plays a high stakes game of Operation, and May retains the one brain cell.

Dollicia Elizabeth Cowleen the Third by Spideypool_supremacy (4.6k)

Peter frowned. "Why do you have such an obsession with that cow?"

"Getting jealous, Pumpkin?"

Peter looked at him, unimpressed. "Oh no. A cow is stealing all your affection. Whatever will I do." He said sarcastically.

Wade grinned. "Don't worry, Petey. I love you both the same."

"That's actually insulting."

quaranteens by blueh (6.6k)

“Peter Parker,” Cindy says. Peter’s head snaps up so fast that it almost looks inhuman. “Did Tony Stark just waltz in and pick up his child in the background of your Zoom call?”

Peter freezes. Wide-eyed, with ‘guilty’ written on his forehead in 72, bold, Times New Roman font. It takes a solid thirty seconds before he can put himself together enough to click the unmute button.

“I—no?” Peter says. His voice is startlingly high pitched and his expression is nothing short of horrified.

Damn, if that isn’t anything but a confession.

The Glass of Sand and Fog [Fan Comic] by neonbrutalism (7k)

"To be honest, I think time is scary enough without a giant axe clock." "What, worried about getting old? Daredeviling getting hard on your knees?" "No, no... It's hard to explain."

Another day, another villain, another kidnapping. Foggy gets kidnapped, Matt avoids awkward conversations, they both suffer from an inability to talk about their feelings and Kirsten is no help at all!

Learning To Say Hello by heartsdesire456 (11k)

Clint had woken up one morning about three weeks ago (Well, Clint guessed about three. Definitely more than one. Maybe.) and stumbled down to the living room only to realize there was a guy on his couch. The guy just happened to be the Winter Soldier, who Clint knew was actually Steve’s old best friend, Bucky Barnes.

Barnes had been having a staring contest with Lucky (one eye shut, to make it fair, Clint had noticed) and Clint had decided to just leave him to it and make decisions after he’d had some coffee.

(In which Hawkeye befriends the Winter Soldier and discovers the Epic Love Story of Steve and Bucky nobody knows about)

but what is a hero, really? by mjscorner (17k)

"Flash," Peter pleaded breathlessly, "you don't want to do this, okay? They're armed. Trust me, you don't understand."

"No, I think I do understand," Flash scoffed, unsurprised. "You've been a loser your whole entire life, but everyone here still adores you. Well, I'm done dealing with that, okay? Time for me to be a hero."

Peter's heart sank as Flash bumped into his shoulder and marched forward.

He stopped before rounding the corner when the faint sound of a gun being cocked echoed throughout the hall, freezing Flash right in his place. Peter turned on his heel in an instant, standing beside Flash protectively.

"But-but what is a hero, really?" Flash croaked with a nervous smile, side-eyeing the weapon suspended beside him as it softly nudged the side of his skull. 

Peter slowly raised his hands in surrender, staring at Flash until he did the same, dropping the cans of pepper spray and the walkie talkies.

"We are so, so, so monumentally screwed."

Let Me Know if It Gets Above a Six by Sundial_at_Night (65k)

“Mr. Loki?” asked the Spider cautiously. “Aren’t you—like—a bad guy?” he asked, voice full of only curiosity, as far as Loki could tell.

His first thought was, yes.

His second thought was no.

His third thought was, sometimes?

“It varies from moment to moment,” Loki answered honestly, prying his eyes open after they threatened to fall close.

“But on a scale of one to ten, where are you at right now?”

“Maybe a three?”

The Spider-child nodded. “Cool,” he replied. “Let me know if it gets above a six.

The Devil's Hangin' 'Round My Doorstep by 94BottlesOfSnapple (96k)

There’s a lot of things Matt Murdock doesn’t allow himself. His best friend is one of them. But put on a mask and suddenly everything seems so freely available, Foggy included. On the other side of the coin, Foggy’s still trying to stifle his big bisexual crush on his best friend and has no idea what to think of the vigilante who’s suddenly and inexplicably taken an interest in him.

it's always who is spider-man, never how is spider-man by i_regret_thatpersonalityquiz (176k)

"Stay?"

Peter finally looked down to see Harley Fucking Keener, Iron Lad, the boy who had caused his shoulder to be throbbing all night, looking away with a slight tint to his cheeks. Peter opened and closed his mouth, no sound coming out.

And he sat back down.

OR: Peter had been living on the streets, dealing with your average homeless vigilante stuff. Things got a bit more complicated when the Avengers started to chase him down.

I hope you enjoy these!! I'll have to make a part two at some point because there's so many brilliant fics to share. Thank you to all the fabulous writers who shared these fics with us, and happy reading!

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Operation Death Wish | Chapter 10

Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter

Synopsis: Jake Seresin knew what it was like to lose people he loved, he’d been losing them his whole life. Yet in the midst of chaos as the world as he knew it ended Jake found somebody he never wanted to lose. But what if he’d already lost her. Warnings: swearing, dystopian descriptions, gore, death, violence, alien descriptions, fighting, sexual images, 18+ (minors dni), angst, some fluff at times. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So I want you explain to me how the fuck this happened (y/n) because I raised you better than this. Jesus Christ you’ve known this man for what 4 months? Talk to me (y/n), what happened?”

“I’ve known him for almost a year but we’ve been close for 6 months.” You interrupted but you knew your father was asking a rhetorical question. Pete slumped down behind his desk, raking his fingers through his short brown locks.

“Please tell me you have a plan.”

“Actually I do, Sir,” Jake chimed in, standing and saluting your father. As soon as you told Jake that your father was a Captain he’d done a mixture of a silent scream and a cry, the poor guy was going through it today.

“I intend to look after your daughter and our baby. Like you said we haven’t known each other for very long but I love her and I intend to love her for as long as I live. I’ll look after her, Captain I promise.” Your heart melted as Jake spilled his heart out in front of your father and you gripped his hand tightly, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Jake looked down at you lovingly, watching as a single tear slipped down your red cheeks.

“Sit down, Lieutenant,” your father ordered and Jake sat down sheepishly.

“I just want my daughter to be happy and loved and if you give her that then it’s all I can ask. I’m not exactly pleased with the situation but you seem like a decent man Jake and if you do what you say you will then I won’t stand in your way. Just look after her ok, she’s all I’ve got.” Jake nodded to your father in a silent promise. You stood, throwing your arms around your father, “thank you, Dad. I’m so sorry. I thought you’d hate me like Bradley does.”

Your father tensed beneath you, “Bradley’s just hurt, you know I’ll always be on your side but you cheated on your fiancé he’s bound to be upset”

“I know I did but he has a new girlfriend too. She's called Annie and he seems really happy with her. I know I hurt him but he hates me. He said I just jumped into bed with Jake and he blamed me,” you sobbed pitifully into your fathers jacket as he held you. “He thinks I’m a slut and I’m not a slut. We both wronged each other but he won’t forgive me.”

“No one treats my daughter like that and gets away with it.” Maverick stepped away from you but continued to hold onto your shoulders. “Don’t you ever think that ok, love. I trust your judgment and although I loved the idea of my two kids being together I understand that life doesn’t always go to plan.”

“He won’t treat my wife that way either,” Jake chimed in. “Well soon-to- be wife. Well I don’t know if you want to be…” Jake stuttered worriedly, trying to recover from his embarrassment. Both you and Pete looked at Jake, a small smirk gracing your fathers lips.

“I think you two have some talking to do, but first I need to talk to Bradley.”

“I’ll come too,” Jake hurried after your father and you watched as the two men hurried down the corridor looking like they were as thick as thieves. You ran after them, you may not exactly like Bradley right now but you didn’t want them to kill him.

“BRADSHAW!” You father shouted to Bradley who was standing talking to Annie and a group of other aviators, he turned to see the two men approaching while you tailgated them.

“What do they want now?” Bradley sighed, giving Annie a quick kiss before walking over to meet the small group.

“Hey Mav, what’s up?”

Maverick snorted, “what’s up? What’s up? I’ll tell you what’s up Bradley, you broke my daughter’s heart, that’s what’s up. How dare you say those things about her, you have no right.”

“I HAVE EVERY RIGHT!” Bradey roared, “she was my fiancée. I loved her and she cheated on me. She couldn’t help spreading her legs, for all I know she probably opened them up for half of Miramar.”

That was the moment you saw Jake snap. It seemed to happen in one motion, the way he moved towards Bradley, his fist connecting with the other man’s cheek, sending him flying backwards. You watched as Jake kneeled over him, his fist pummeling Bradley’s face, leaving it battered and bruised. Your father just watched, seemingly shocked by Jake’s actions but also feeling they were justified. You screamed at them to stop until your voice was hoarse and your throat was dry. You ran forward, grabbing hold of Jake’s bicep and yanking him away with as much strength as you could muster. Pete soon stepped in to help, pulling Jake away from Bradley and telling him to cool off. Jake’s face was flushed and red, you held his face in your hands trying to calm him. His chest trembled with each breath and sweat poured down his forehead. The group of aviators had rushed over to see what happened and you saw Annie trying to help Bradley stand, she cradled his wounded face lovingly.

“What happened?” She asked, her voice laced with venom as she looked accusingly at Jake.

Jake went to say something but you stopped him. “Ask my fiancé.” Was all you said before leading Jake back to your room. You could hear the muffled voices behind you and you knew Braldey would be in for it now, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was your little family right here, because you knew Jake would never talk to you or treat you the way Bradley had just done.

After you’d returned to your room you sent Jake to have a shower to calm him down while you sat on the bed, chewing your fingernails worriedly. You couldn’t help the guilt you felt, bile rising in the back of your throat and the cold sweat trickling down your back. You did love Bradley Bradshaw, you thought a small piece of your heart would always belong to him but you loved Jake more. Your love for Jake had been unexpected, you’d never meant for this to end this way. You’d been raised to be truthful and honest and you were a people pleaser right to the core. Thinking back over the last few months made you realise that you changed in more ways than you had realised, although you still cared for the people around you, you began to put yourself first a little more. You’d gone for what you wanted with little concern for Bradley and that killed you.

A soft knock at the door drew you from your thoughts and you rose slowly to answer it. Your hand froze on the handle when you saw who was standing the other side. Both Bradley’s eyes were circled by deep purple bruises, his lip was split and he had steristrips across his eyebrows. His right cheek had a large graze and he winced as he tried to smile. “Could we talk?” He asked sheepishly, his head bowed slightly and he looked at you with those bright, hazel eyes that always made your heart melt.

“Ok,” you replied, stepping outside and closing the door behind you. Bradley stepped from foot to foot awkwardly as if he didn’t quite know what to say but knew he had to see you.

“I’m so so sorry, (y/n). I’m a dick and I shouldn’t have said any of those things because I know they aren’t true. You are the kindest, most loyal person I’ve ever met and I’ve been a complete idiot. The truth is I still love you and I’m scared that I’ll always love you. We did grow apart. I know that but when I thought you were gone it broke me. I spent most of my nights looking down the bottom of a bottle, I was a complete mess,” Bradley sniffed, wiping the tears away that had slipped down his cheeks. “When I met Annie I felt different, she brought me back to life and I started to recover from you. When Mav told me you were alive I didn’t know what to do, I never wanted to hurt either of you but Annie hates me now and I’m guessing you do too. I fucked up, I know that but I don’t want you to hate me.”

You felt the tears in your own eyes now and you pulled Bradley in quickly against your chest. His shoulder began to shake as he cried, muffled sobs against your shoulder. You ran your hands through his brown locks, scratching at his scalp soothingly. You knew just how to comfort Bradley, like his mother used to, and the tears soon stopped falling. When you pulled away both your faces were red and blotchy but you felt lighter than before. “I’m so sorry,” Bradley said again and you knew he meant it.

“I know you are, Roo. You really hurt me you know and I will forgive you, it just may take some time but I want us to be friends again.” Bradey nodded, giving your hand a small squeeze before turning to go, head hung low but shoulders a little straighter than before. You smiled, your heart felt lighter as you walked back into your room. Jake was sitting on the bed with a lopsided grin on his lips.

“You heard all that didn’t you?” You sat beside him, resting your head against his shoulder as his hand trailed down your spine.

“I did,” Jake breathed quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s ok, I know that you’ll always love Bradley but I don’t mind. I love you and this baby and all I want is for you to be happy.” He gave you his signature smile and you couldn’t stop your smiling from growing.

“Thank you, Jake.” He cradled the back of your neck, kissing softly, it was full of love and tenderness and as his lips danced over yours the stress from the last few days faded. The waves of emotions were finally settling and your shoulders relaxed as Jake deepened the kiss. An ear piercing siren pulled you away from the kiss, it screamed above you sending you and Jake into a frenzy. You grabbed both the bags that you’d left packed, you’d wanted to be prepared incase things with Bradley went south, and you pulled Jake towards the door. You both took off running across the compound towards your fathers office when you bumped into Mav and Bradley.

“What the hells going on?” Jake demanded, both men looked as shocked as you did and you could tell from your fathers face that this wasn’t a planned drill.

“It’s the perimeter alarm.” Bradley stated, his normally soft brown eyes were wide and he looked about frantically. “It means the fence has been breached”.

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

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[munsons-hellfire]

Reunited In Valhalla | Jane Foster

SUMMARY: You died fighting Hela on Asgard, having never got to say goodbye to the love of your life Jane Foster. Now a few years later you are taken by surprise when Jane is Valhalla.

PAIRINGS: Jane Foster x Reader

REQUESTED BY: DEMIE_GOD (through Wattpad on Eye Of The Flames)

CONTENT WARNINGS: SFW, Death, fluff, some angst, no use of y/n, mentions of death, mentions of character death

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I hope you like this, I did kind of make some changes to what actually happens in Thor Ragnarok. I'm very proud of this and really like how it ended! Thank you for the request, this was a blast to write.

WORD COUNT: 1.9K Words

Battle was raging on, Loki was somewhere near Valkyrie fighting of the dead that had come back to life with the eternal flame Hela had brought forth. You were in the midst of all the chaos that surrounded you. The only thing truly racing through your mind was the fact that you weren't going to make it back to the love of your life. You weren't going to get that happy ending you had hoped would come. You had more wounds than you could count and you could feel the blood seeping out of most of them.

The blood loss was making you slightly dizzy. But the adrenaline was allowing you to keep fighting, because if you were going to do something it was going to be fighting until your last breath. Throwing your hand forward the sword was pushed into the chest of the dead. Exhaling you pulled the sword out of the dead and kicked it off the bridge. Your eyes wandered to see Hela coming towards you and the others, Thor was nowhere to be seen. You looked back staring at the others as they continued to fight around each other.

They had no idea that Hela was walking towards them to end each and everyone one just so she could have a complete rule of Asgard, to allow her to take over other realms. You stood your ground holding your sword in front of you, you ignored the pain fighting on the inside. This was the moment you knew you were never going back home. The moment you knew you'd never see Jane Foster ever again. Loki, Valkyrie, Heimdall, and Hulk all stopped for a moment to look at you as you turned back to give them all a final goodbye.

"What are you doing?" Valkyrie shouted, not baring the thought of losing a friend again.

"I'm making a sacrifice play, then you might have a surviving chance." You shouted back to them, Valkyrie began running, Loki following behind her while Hulk and Heimdall resumed their fighting.

Releasing a shaky breath you turned back around to face Hela once again, in the distance Thor was staring down at you. The sadness was so clearly etched in his face, and he knew at that moment he would have to break the news to Jane, to tell her that you had died in battle. With a battle cry escaping your lips you ran towards the woman. Blades escaped out of her hands until she caught the tail end of them. She knew she could win but she was just intrigued to see how good of a warrior you were.

The blade of your sword lifted in the air and clashed down onto the blades that Hela held onto in both her hands. Her grip was tight, but yours was stronger. By some miracle you had managed to push the woman slightly off her heels causing her to lose one of the swords. But in the process she had created another one. Swinging yourself around she slammed the thin blade into the side of Hela's leg, pulling back you saw blood start to escape the cut.

"So you must be the stronger one." Hela taunted, eyes fixated on you as you swing your sword around until the blade came to a stop right next to your hair.

"No wonder Odin locked you away, how cocky can you get?" You questioned, you were hoping that your words were enough to throw Hela off long enough for a small distraction. Thor was getting closer to the two of you but Loki and Valkyrie still had some distance to cover and it didn't help that the dead continuously got in their way.

You stepped forward throwing your sword towards Hela before she had a chance to make some kind of smart remark. Your swords clashed together as you pushed her further and further off the bridge, hoping to be a distraction long enough for the rest of the Asgardian people to board the ship. Even if you were going to die, you had hope that Hela could be destroyed. Grunts left your lips as you continuously threw your sword at the woman. However it all came to a sudden stop, you felt your sword drop to the bridge.

With whatever strength you had left your head lowered down to look at the sword that had just gone through you. "No!" Thor shouted, flying towards you and Hela. You picked your head up to see Hela staring back at you with an evil smirk resting on her lips. You coughed and blood started to fall out of your mouth.

"But not smart enough, apparently. Such a shame really."

Her voice flew in one ear and out the other as the sword was pulled out of you and you collapsed to the ground. Time seemed to slow down and the next thing you knew Hela was being thrown away from you back towards the center of Asgard. Thor landed on his knees and pulled you into his grasp, his hand finding the wound and attempting to stop the bleeding. You felt more pain now, it hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, you were tired and ready to move onto the next life.

"Why did you have to do that?" Thor questioned you.

"I knew I wasn't going to survive this, my time is up Thor." Your voice was barely above a whisper as it left your lips. Loki and Valkyrie finally made it to you, kneeling down on the other side of you.

"Is there anything that can be done?" Valkyrie questioned, eyes on Thor hoping you could be saved by some kind of miracle, but alas there was no miracle today.

You started coughing again, as you attempted to get the words out of your mouth before you took your final breath. "Tell Jane... Tell her that I'm sorry..." Your sentence was cut off by another cough, more blood trickled down your mouth, you could finally feel the tears brimming at your eyes, there was no point trying to hide the tears away from the three of them. They were your friends and you knew you could be vulnerable with them. "Tell Jane that I'll always love her... and that... I'll always be with her."

"No, you're going to tell her yourself. That's your job." Thor mumbled out.

You shook your head with whatever strength you had left in your failing body. "I'm dying, Thor, it's okay. It'll be okay, and so will I... but-but you have to tell Jane. Promise me, please." The seconds were counting down and you could feel it ending. "Promise me!" You whispered as the tears finally fell down your face.

"I promise. I'll tell her, I'll tell her everything."

It had been like that had been the words you had been waiting for because when you got the confirmation that Thor would tell Jane everything your last breath left your body and turned sparkles. You were going to a better place, you were going to Valhalla.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

It had been 7 years since Jane had lost the love of her life and now here she stood at the gates of Valhalla. Heimdall stood in front of her, she kept looking behind him. And he knew exactly who Jane Foster had been looking for. After your death Thor couldn't tell Jane that you had died, they had gone into battle against Thanos and he had snapped away half the universe. Jane had been one of the many who had been blipped.

When Jane and Thor had finally reunited with each other he had to break the news to her. Though she had started to put the pieces together before it had finally slipped out of his mouth. Jane was without her partner, without the person that she had planned to spend the rest of their lives together. When Jane was diagnosed with cancer, a part of her wanted to find some kind of cure for herself but the other part wanted to be with you.

Jane thought maybe in death that the two of you would finally get to live happily ever after together. So when her time came and she fought alongside Thor and died in his arms like you had died in his 7 years prior it was fitting that you be reunited in Valhalla. You had heard word of a new warrior that would be joining you and the others here. But no one had really mentioned who this person was. You walked down the steps catching up with Heimdall demanding that he tell you who the new person is.

However you stopped in your tracks and your breath hitched in your throat as you stared down the woman that you had loved since the moment you two had met through Thor. It was like you had been given a second chance, even if it had been in death. The love of your life stood not far from you staring up at you with the same reaction you had on your face as well.

"Jane." Her name left your lips before the tears had a chance to fall down your cheeks. Heimdall stepped out of the way, allowing Jane to walk up the steps towards you. Eventually you both met in the middle. Jane stared at you, pure joy rested on her face as she stared you down. Without thinking you closed the space between you two and pulled Jane Foster in for a tight hug first. "You have no idea how much I missed you." Your voice was soft as you told her the simple truth.

"I could say the same thing." Jane mentioned, pulling away from you but her hands rested on your arms not wanting to leave your skin. "When Thor told me you had died, I was devastated, I didn't get to say goodbye to you. And then when I got this cancer, I thought I wanted more time but I think I might have been looking for a quicker way to get to you faster. Because I missed you for 7 years."

"I'm sorry, but I had to do what I knew was right, even if that meant that I couldn't say goodbye to you. I don't think I'll ever make up for the time that separated us from each other but you're here now, we're together. In my eyes that's all that matters to me." You couldn't help the smile that walked its way onto your lips as you continued to look at Jane. The brunette bit her lip and found herself looking down at your lips which had been something you hadn't missed. "I think maybe we're overdue for a kiss."

You closed the rest of the space between the two of you and without a second thought crossing either of your minds you placed your lips on Jane's kissing her slowly and passionately for the first time in 7 years. Sparks ran through you like it was your first kiss all over again, and Jane felt the same way. Nothing compared to this kiss, at this moment. When you two pulled apart, you rested your head on Jane's forehead, both of your eyes still closed.

"Long overdue indeed." Jane whispered, which caused a chuckle to erupt from your chest.

"Come on, there's some familiar faces here." You grabbed her hand and guided her up the steps, Heimdall catching up with you two to walk with you. You were happy now, together in the afterlife with the love of your life.