#(first gifs I'm making in years so bear with me. It took me forever to make this)

[morgana-lefay]

'I'm Still Alive' (Emigrate) vs 'Ich Will' (Rammstein)

[honeysuckleharringtons]

"Forever Valentine" ~ E. Munson

Summary: When you aren't feeling yourself one Valentine's Day, Eddie is determined to make you feel better and let you know that you are his forever valentine.

Pairing: Mechanic!Husband!Eddie Munson x Wife!Reader (no pronouns used but Reader is called Wife)

Word Count: 938

Content Warning: Reader is lowkey depressed, mentions of food, sorta implied smut but not really?

Genre: Hurt/Comfort and some Fluff

Extra Notes: NAWT THE BAD SUMMARY AGAIN 😭

Based On the Request: "I've been feeling quite sad and not like my usual self. Do you think you can make a comfort/fluff of reader feeling similarly and Eddie helping with cuddles and snacks and whatever else you think of?" (requested by @rupsmorge)

Originally Written: 02/14/2023

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold

honeysuckleharringtons masterlist can be found here!

honeysuckleharringtons ask box can be found here!

It was four p.m. on Valentine's Day, and to say that thus far it had been underwhelming… Well, that was a major understatement.

It hadn't been all bad. Eddie had woken you up at the crack of dawn with a kiss on the forehead, whispering promises of a surprise when he got home from work that afternoon. When you'd finally forced yourself out of bed at around noon, you walked into the kitchen to see he'd left you a bouquet of red roses and a note that read,

"I'm not good with words, but to be fair, I don't know if there are words to tell you how happy I am to be your forever valentine. Happy first married Valentine's Day, my love." - Ed ♡

And sure, those things made you happy. You yourself couldn't believe that it was the first Valentine's Day you were spending as a married couple. But no matter how many chocolate hearts you ate or bottles of champagne you popped, it couldn't change the fact that you'd been in a horrible funk lately and had no clue how to fix it.

So, instead of asking for help, you did what any normal human being would in this situation—turned on cheesy Hallmark movies, wrapped the teddy bear that Eddie had given you last year in your arms, and ate strawberry ice cream straight out of the container.

You hadn't even realized that you were on your third rom-com of the day until Eddie crept into the house, left a ghost of a kiss on your ear, and commented, "Is this really what you do when I'm at the shop?"

You gave him a sideways smile, putting on your best show of happiness for him. Valentine's Day was one of his favorite holidays, because there was no way you could fight him on spoiling you for the day.

"Not always," you answered, "only on special occasions."

"Speaking of special occasions," he said, leaning down for a kiss on the lips, "happy Valentine's Day."

As he pulled away, he held out his hands, revealing the handiwork of what he'd been doing during the overtime he'd been working the past week.

He held out a metal rose, with "Eddie + YN" engraved in one of the petals. Sure, it wasn't the most practical of gifts, but to you, it meant the whole world. Eddie using his talents to make meaningful trinkets just for you? Swoon.

Tears poured down your cheeks as you took the hunk of metal from his hands, holding the material close to your chest. "Thank you, Ed," you managed to say through sobs, your chest heavy with some odd mixture of love and guilt.

Eddie almost immediately picked up that those weren't tears of happiness, prompting him to pull you into his embrace. His curls fanned out around you as he held your head against his chest, leaving soft kisses on the top of your head.

"What's wrong?" he asked, rubbing small circles on your back.

"Nothing," you lied, attempting to slow the flow of your tears. "Just super happy that you made this for me."

He let out a deep sigh, holding you close as he led the two of you down to the couch. Pulling you into his lap, he turned you to face him and pushed your now wet hair away from your cheeks. "I can't fix the problem if I don't know what it is," he told you. "Please, tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," you insisted. "These are happy tears."

"If I said or did something-" he started to say, but you stopped that thought before he could even finish thinking it.

You placed a loving hand on his cheek, your thumb gliding softly against the stubble growing there. "You could never do anything to upset me. Well, except for when you leave your grease rags lying around."

He chuckled before leaving a long, soft peck on your forehead. "I love you. So much. Please come to me if you ever need me. There's a reason I asked to be your husband."

You melted into his embrace, tossing your legs over his and wrapping your arms around his neck. "I just…" you started, pausing to consider your words, "I've just been in a small funk lately."

"Whatcha mean?" Eddie asked in a whisper, placing his large palm in the center of your back.

"I've just been really sad. And tired. And I just feel off. I don't even remember how it feels to be my normal self," you explained. "I didn't say anything because I knew you were busy with work."

"Hey, hey, hey," he stopped you, his hand moving from your back to your hair, his fingers softly tugging at the ends, "never hesitate to tell me things just because of work. Work can wait. The second you slid this ring on my finger and I said, 'I do,' you became my top priority."

The two of you stayed like that for a while, enjoying the comfort of one another's embrace. He held you tight against his chest, whispering quiet "I love you's" against the shell of your ear, and trailing kisses along your neck.

"I love you too," you answered eventually, giving him an actual smile this time.

"Since it's Valentine's Day," he said as a smirk appeared on his perfectly plump lips, "can I show you just how much I love you, my beautiful, *kiss* amazing, *kiss* wonderful wife?"

You giggled, a smile sitting on your lips as they landed on his for a passionate, slow, strawberry-flavored kiss. "I *kiss* would love *kiss* nothing more."

Aaahh, happy belated Valentine's Day, lovers!! I tried so hard to have this up on Valentine's Day but alas, good things take time and I had to wait. But, I hope it was well worth it because I absolutely love how this turned out!

Thank you so much to @rupsmorge for this lovely request!! May everyone's sweetheart Eddie make you feel better and give you a lil comfort 🫶🏻💗🫂

-> Taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @hereiamhereigo @esoltis280

[indescribeable]

Wait for your love I Chapter 1

So I made a post about this fic a WHILE ago now but I finally got around to writing the first chapter! This will be cross-posted on Ao3 if anyone would rather read it there! I really hope you guys like this and based on reactions and my motivation well lack there off we will see how this goes. This fic will also contain a few OC's Also, I know I keep saying this but to those who have asks still pending I am SO SORRY I just haven't had the motivation but I'm sure a lot of you feel me on that one ALSO TRIGGER WARNING this fic will eventually include smut and will explore topics of abuse, PTSD and non-con and eating disorders I will put lines like this ~~~~~~~~ above and below chapters that contain those subjects so please be aware of this! <3 Anyway hope you enjoy Also Yes Wait for Your Love by Ariana is at the bottom of this post as I got my inspiration for the fic itself and the title while listening to the song so I hope you enjoy it! <3

Mika had been through a lot of hardships in her life her father’s constant abuse, Lisette’s constant abuse, Andrew's constant abuse, the depression, the PTSD, the eating disorder and anxiety, the loss of her grandmother, the loss of her grandfather and even the trauma that came from finding 5 men bleeding on the floor of her newly bequeathed mansion and then that leading to being kidnapped and almost killed by a psychotic devil and then following that up with an incredibly angry succubus trying to take her boys away from her but this, this was harder. Watching the five men she had grown to love and adore in this world find their love with others. It had been just over 2 years since she had met the boys and only a few weeks into their stay with her she started to develop feelings for all of them that she hid incredibly well even from Damien and he could read minds. Weeks turned into months, months of pain being so deeply in love but watching them drift away, watching them each find someone they loved with their entire being, months of giving advice and reassurance that they in fact could love and that they had nothing to worry about, months of helping them plan dates, helping them solve arguments, helping them pick out gifts and then eventually engagement rings and wedding tuxedos all while slowing dying inside her heart shattering into a million little pieces.

When they each left to move on with her life she stayed strong. She put on a happy face, wished them all the happiness in the world and let them go until she was alone. The house felt so empty without them it was something she couldn’t bear anymore all she was doing was spiralling into self-pity and depression so she decided that if they moved on she needed to as well. Since James the eldest of the five brothers had taken over her grandfather’s company her father had no choice but to let her choose to do whatever she wished with her life. It was something she would be forever grateful for, so she focused on something she loved that helped her get her mind off everything. Mika had been taking dance lessons since before she can remember much to her father's dismay but to appease him she kept straight A’s a 4.0 GPA and took part in whatever ridiculous company events he wished along with taekwondo lessons, her grandfather also paid for all her dance lessons so that helped but her father was never 100% satisfied, he let her continue her lessons so that was something. After high school, she had managed to get full scholarships to multiple universities but the offer that shook her the most was her full-ride scholarship to Julliard the only problem being it was in New York. Sure she had received scholarships from some of the best dance schools in the country even from schools in Chicago but she had a choice to make. The boys or her future, she was beginning to reach her limit.

The boys obviously had no idea about how she felt about them though they did love her but like a sister. As such she was invited to every event, every meal and it was getting harder and harder to sit there and endure the torment of seeing them so happy with their wives not to mention she was the only one who seemed to notice how much they seemed to hate her bar Twila who was quiet yes but friendly and honestly incredibly sweet the perfect match for Damien and that hurt even more. Each new event was becoming more and more uncomfortable for her so she decided to accept the Juilliard offer if she was going to make it through the rest of her life she needed to get away. The boys were devastated upon finding out that she was moving away but were ultimately happy for her and wished her luck. The worst part was the smug look on the wives' faces at the airport as she left and the tearful hugs shared between her and the boys but as she left she willed herself not to look back she couldn’t because if she did she would never have been able to leave so now hear she sat in her last year of university in one of the most magical cities in the world sure she was incredibly homesick and still missed the boys like crazy but she didn’t realise when she left for New york how deeply in love she would fall in over the city.

It was getting close to Christmas so there was constant snowfall the city constantly changing between being covered in a white blanket of snow and brown and grey slush from all the foot traffic that came through it every day. Her dorm room was so nice heating and AC, crisp white walls though they were covered head to toe in posters and pictures, a lovely plush beige carpet, large bay windows looking out over the city and a decent amount of room considering the room was shared. Mika took the left side while her roommate Jada took the right. Mika was so nervous moving in and meeting her the first day but she turned out to be one of the warmest, kind and honestly badass people she had ever met. They were both vastly different but they managed to somehow get along incredibly well, Mika had a Japanese American background while Jada had an African American background, they both had very different tastes in everything from food to music but it was what they loved about each other they where honestly like each others missing halves in a way and Mika was beyond grateful for her. They spoke about anything and everything literally of course them both being witches helped that but Jada knew everything about Mika and her situation and let's just say Mika fears the day Jada ever meets the guys It’s incredibly fair to say she was not best pleased with the whole situation.

Mika was currently sitting at one of the windows in her dorm snuggled up under a fluffy blanket wearing a light brown teddy bear fleece paired with fur-lined black leggings, miss matched black and white fluffy socks and her hair was up in a loose bun. She was content happily cupping a steaming mug of hot chocolate in her hands watching the small puffs of snow flying past her window. Thankfully her ankle was now out of its cast but it still wasn't 100% yet after what happened.

Mika thanks to her father's treatment never allowed herself to rest she was always pushing herself trying to be what she believed was good enough though she’s never actually got to the point where she thought that she was enough. She had been skipping meals, overworking herself and pushing herself beyond her limits, Jada always liked to say one day she would end up working herself to death and to be fair she wasn't far off being correct in that assumption. Mika ended up truly pushing herself too far over the edge this time ultimately fainting in practice and breaking her ankle, she didn't know what was worse though a dancer hurting their ankle now causing them to have a constant weakness in their ankle broken or not or the fact that she did it 3 months before her final showcase, the showcase was basically the most important event in her life right now there would be scouts from multiple dance companies around the world coming to watch the performances, she needed to be there and she needed to be the best for her future career, the pressure was on but she could still say she was at least somewhat happy, this was something she had been dreaming of since she was a little girl and she would stop at nothing to get to the finish line if not just for her but her grandfather as well. He had been so supportive and put in so much work to help her pursue everything she wanted in life, dance her magic studies even her regular studies, the worst thing she could dream of would be letting him down and that would not be an option for her.

Before tears could start forming in her eyes over the memories of her grandfather she heard the lock to the door go before revealing a very cold and very displeased Jada. Her light blonde curly hair was shoved up in a messy ponytail the platinum locks matching incredibly well with her milk chocolate skintone. Her dark whiskey eyes were set in an unimpressed scowl though not directed at anyone in particular. Her large white puffer jacket black jeans and snow boots were covered in small flakes and her rosy cheeks were shining brightly in the light of the dormroom. Mika had to stifle a giggle at her very distressed and very dishevelled roommate.

“Someone doesn't look happy” Mika couldn't help the teasing smirk appearing on her lips.

“I HATE winter! It’s cold! And wet! And it's doing nothing for my hair!” Jada huffed the last few words struggling to rip the drenched puffer jacket off her slender frame eventually giving up sighing in defeat and blowing a stray curl out of her eyes.

“A little help over here!?” Mika chuckled before placing down her hot chocolate and untangling herself from the warmth of her blanket making her way over to help her friend escape the drenched jacket hanging it up to dry in the bathroom. Finally having escaped the offending clothing item Jada flopped onto her bed tiredly turning her head to look at Mika who had returned to her place at the window hot chocolate nestled back between her slender fingers.

“How's the ankle? Any improvements?” Mika turned to look at her in response a small smile on her face though there was still sadness in her eyes.

“It's getting there it hardly hurts when I put pressure on it anymore and I've almost completely regained my balance.”

Jada’s face lit up with one of her signature warm smiles her eyes slightly creasing at the corners. “Way to go girl! Im proud of you, you put in a lot of work but I still say you need a break” Mika scoffed turning her attention back to the window.

“I don't have time for a break the showcase is in just over a month and im completely behind on my practice not to mention that I haven't even been able to attend practice to watch the routine I planned out because Miss Sharp insisted I stay on “bed rest”.

Jada let out an exasperated sigh sitting up on her bed before getting up and making her way over to sit across from Mika at the window shoving her legs under the blanket with Mika and gently grabbing her hand with a serious look on her face.

“Look Meeks I love you, you know I do but the whole reason you are in this mess is because you weren't taking care of yourself, even if your ankle fully heals within the next few hours you still won't be ready physically to come back to practice, look you have already choreographed and planned out the entire show and Aiko and I have made sure everything is how you want it to be. You need a break. I think you should go home for Christmas.”

Mika looked as if she had been struck eyes wide in fear, Jada of course knew everything about the boys and that whole situation they had become so close to each other that they basically knew all of each other's secrets and she knew how hard it had been for Mika.

“Are you insane?! There is no way im going home.” Mikas face softened from surprised to sad “I can't do it, Jada, it hurts too much.”

Jada let out a sad sigh before lightly squeezing Mika's hand with hers. “Look I know that it's hard for you but you can't keep avoiding them forever even if they seem to be avoiding you.” The last part of that sentence was spoken with icy venom, Mika had tried to get in contact with the boys multiple times but the calls either ended up going to voice mail or somehow the boy's wives always ended up answering, she had tried their house phones, personal phones even work phones but she could never get through. It saddened her not getting to hear their voices, there were times during her stay at uni when she really needed them, needed to hear them, needed to hear their reassurance and the warmth in their voices but she was never successful.

“Girl look first things first you miss home, you miss Naomi and Suzu heck you even miss the little cafe you always used to go to, you wouldn’t just be going to see them, you can't let their dumb ass decisions rule your life plus you might be able to figure out what the hell is going on, based on everything you’ve told me I wouldn’t think they would treat you like this and that means a lot coming from me based on the way I feel about them” Jada emphasized the last bit of her sentence causing a light chuckle to pass through Mikas lips.

Mika set down her hot chocolate for the second time reaching over to give Jada a tight squeeze which was reciprocated immediately. “What would I do without you?”

Jada chuckled before responding. “I don't think either of us would like to find out the answer to that question but im gonna take that as a yes?” She finished her question with a hopeful lilt to her voice.

Mika untangled herself from Jada’s arms sitting back and giving her a gentle nod and warm smile. “Yes, I'll go home already geez I didn't realise you were that desperate to get rid of me.” At that, Jada gave Mika a light punch to the arm causing Mika to lean back rubbing her arm and feigning a hurt expression.

“Ohh, please! I didn't even hit you hard!” Both girls chuckled at finally separating for the night.

Jada headed into the bathroom to get ready for bed and Mika making her way over to her desk flipping open her laptop the blue light of the screen illuminating her face a few seconds after the power button was pressed. She searched through multiple sites for affordable plane tickets for what felt like hours, unfortunately, everything went up in price around Christmas time so it was exceedingly hard to find the ticket she wanted for a fair price. Eventually, though she managed to find the ticket she wanted at a fairly reasonable price, well as reasonable as it was gonna get at that time of year quickly purchasing them waiting for the confirmation email and then shutting her laptop and heading to bed for the night. Nerves raced through her body at the thought of going home but finally, she drifted off nervous for the days to come.

[beck-hartman]

What a question to ask a couple of teens | Beck.

When: December 16, 2023.

The wind was bitter, inviting all the familiar sting and scents of the coming holiday. Christmas was days away, and Beck found himself alone--a horrible thing to be. His mind hadn't been far from the store he spent much of the latter part of senior year in and out of, and a gift on his list had finally brought a need to return.

Seventeen-Eighteen. What a year to be making life-altering decisions. But when you know...when you have no doubts? The memory lost the sparkle the time actually held, as if his mind left the cloud he hadn't seen hovering in real time. The man--no, the kid--he envisioned possessed more foolishness, more naivete, more bliss-induced ignorance.

"You know, to get from Hart to Hartman, all you need is a man." It was perhaps the lamest of his jokes, but it made her laugh every time. She'd come back with a far better quip about him taking hers instead when they got married. When. Not If. They spoke in whens back then, as though speaking of inevitabilities. He had wondered in the last eight years how many times she'd said it knowing she wasn't going to stay with him, knowing she no longer believed they could beat anything. His dreams too big and her convinced hers weren't big enough.

Hand on the handle, he took a sharp, quick inhale and pushed. The chime rang through the store with its striking familiarity. The one place he'd avoided, he found it exactly as he'd last left it this same time in 2015. It was a time capsule, filled to the brim with nostalgia and old hopes.

"Mr. Hartman." Same store owner, same warmth in his greeting. He held an understanding in his eyes, in the wisdom of the lines that crinkled around them when he smiled.

As if pushing play on an old tape, his gaze traced over the crystal clear cases, rewinding through the years further and further in time. He was seventeen, in here for the first time to look for something to bridge the path from childhood sweethearts to adulthood: a symbol of the forever they continually promised one another. He found it in an oval halo cut diamond with gold band, simple yet elegant and set in a way that reminded Beck a bit of flowers. She was always happiest when he brought her flowers, so it seemed perfect to put one eternally on her finger.

Visit after visit spanned his memory, filled with the echoes of "is it still here?" He waited day after day with the kind of patience held by children awaiting Santa's visit. It would have to be his own money, an idea to this day he didn't know why he was so determined to uphold, but that path had enough 'what if's to drown him.

Then he was eighteen, coming full circle in the memory. She's gone. That was another odd thing, he never really said 'she left me'. She was just gone. Maybe that truth was easier to bear than a choice that was made, a surrender in a fight for them. In the end, it was all loss.

He still saved the money up as planned, came back, stood here. Why he did it would never have an answer, a sort of self-flogging that was undeserved. His only crime had been to dream bigger than reality allowed and miss the signs of his relationship failing.

Twenty-six. He could see the look given, and though he hadn't come for that, the words tumbled out before he could think better of them.

"Is it still here?"

And finally, in all his moments of asking, the answer changed. "No." The tone was quiet, empathetic, knowing. "I held onto it as long as I could for you, Beck. There are others like it, but it's not--"

"--The same, I know," Beck finished for him. Too much time had passed. "I was just curious. We're not there yet anyway." Anymore died a painful, burning death in the back of his throat. Maybe they had never been there at all, maybe it was something kids together as long as they were said. Maybe he was the only one who was ever standing here, saying he'd do it in a heartbeat. "It's Christmas, so I'm here to get her something else actually..."

---

After hiding the gift in his room, he took a moment at the marina. It was a long time ago. He'd already accepted the loss a thousand times over, but like a scab, it kept breaking open to bleed again. His heart had a bruising grip around it, pressure on his chest only fresh, ocean air might possibly release.

The optimist in him said dreams were made to inspire, to find the goals in them to mold them into reality. But maybe that's not what they were. Maybe they were simply visions of hope, something to keep lights shining, fires burning. Perhaps it was reality that had to be accepted as it came, taking the steps only as they were presented to you. Oh, but can a dreamer really stop dreaming?

The odds had always been against them, and the dream wasn't dead, not entirely. Maybe it was like the ring itself, it couldn't be the same but that didn't mean the one for them wasn't out there. It was now less of an inevitability and more of a maybe someday. The love would last forever either way. If standing on the beach in the middle of the End of Summer Bash had showed them anything, it was they'd always be in love. This was their real thing.

Beck didn't ask for much, for so long it was two things: to travel and to marry Shosh. Well, he got one. Even if it would have been the thing sacrificed if he'd been asked to choose between them. Whatever dreams were, this one needed to be put away for the foreseeable future. This was time she needed, and time was something he could give her.

And that was the story. That was the reality of it. The ring was gone, to somebody with hopefully a better story to tell, and maybe one day there would be another. His weight resting through his forearms onto the pier, Beck wasn't sure how to feel about that, maybe he'd never be. And that's just what it was.

Making his way to a secluded spot, he took the joint from his pocket he'd picked up when he dropped the gift off. A flicker of flame, inviting an end of this pain.

Is it still here?

No.

--

Where'd you go?

I was in New York.

--

Six months?

Seven months, thirteen days.

--

I was in New York…multiple times. Harley was up there too, and I went to visit him.

I know. Well, I assumed. Harley and I were together a lot in New York, he actually worked at the bar with me...

--

For what it’s worth, I wanted to tell you. But Shosh didn’t want you to know and it wasn’t my relationship so I didn’t feel like it was my place, you know?

--

You should leave.

--

I’m not the same anymore, Beck.

Rising from deep within his very soul, he released a guttural scream. The sound carried away by winds and waves into the depths of the ocean until his throat ached and weight lifted. Hitting his knees first, he collapsed back onto the sand as he flicked his lighter open again bringing it to the stick now pressed between his lips until the end began to simmer. Smoke entered his lungs like a warm blanket against the cold. Numbness followed, vanishing into an empty mind. The world seemed brighter again, or maybe that was the sun above him.

How rare it is to meet your soulmate when you’re only four years old, and how cruel when it's not as simple as such luck should be.

[arickaandherfictionalothers]

Stumbling blindly toward the light…

(Aricka Rogers)

(Post Infinity War. The song lyrics reflect Aricka’s thoughts moments after the Blip.)

(TW: heavy grief mention, brief mention of blood, allusion to the train incident. If I missed anything let me know-!

I've seen dark before

But not like this

This is cold

This is empty

This is numb….

Aricka looks around the room askance, the sensation of dried tears, blood and mucus covering her entire body. It felt like she’d just fallen back into the ice, like she was back on the plane and she was falling…. Falling…. Falling….

The life I knew is over

The lights are out

Hello, darkness

I'm ready to succumb…

Bucky. He was gone again. Taken by another force beyond her control. They were expecting their first child, and Thanos took him. Took her husband away from her again.

Were they doomed to be apart forever-?

I follow you around

I always have

But you've gone to a place I cannot find…

Aricka wish she was with Bucky. She wish the dust had claimed her, so they at least were together. Right now it was hard to take a breath, let alone picture the next- infinity- without Bucky.

This grief has a gravity

It pulls me down….

She’d grieved before. She’d mourned a whole lifetime- friends, family and loved ones. She had mourned a lost childhood, a lost adulthood. She was forever caught in between, forever a young adult. But this grief- the grief of having Bucky in her grasp for the first time in years- only to have him pulled so viciously away from her when it had seemed like she finally got to keep him.

It was all she could do to not fall to the ground and never get back up.

But a tiny voice whispers in my mind

"You are lost, hope is gone

But you must go on

And do the next right thing"….

The only thing keeping her from doing just that- keeping her from falling to the floor and melting into it- was currently six months old growing in her womb.

Little Sarah Elisabeth Barnes. Her ray of hope. Her and Bucky’s little princess. Their second chance.

And Bucky wouldn’t want her to give up on him, not just because he’d faded to dust right in front of her.

Can there be a day beyond this night?

I don't know anymore what is true….

White static filled her ears, dry cotton her mouth. She wrapped both arms around her stomach; protecting her baby- who’d miraculously survived the attack- and hugged it as close as she could.

I can't find my direction, I'm all alone

The only star that guided me was you….

For so long, it’d been her, Steve and Jamie. Then it was her and Steve. And then it seemed like the trio was back-

And then this happened.

Would Steve still have her-? Would he still be her guiding light-? Ever since the Incident that was the Civil War things had felt so different between them.

How to rise from the floor

When it's not you I'm rising for?

How could she bear it without her Jamie-? Without her soulmate, the air in her lungs, the sun in her sky, the light of her life.

Just do the next right thing

Take a step, step again…

Looking up, she sees Steve heading towards her from across the field- and she takes a step. And another. Again and again; until she was running.

It is all that I can to do

The next right thing…

The feet between them seemed endless, and she saw Steve was running too- and for two super soldiers it shouldn’t take this long to run to each other but it felt like an eternity.

I won't look too far ahead

It's too much for me to take….

She wouldn’t look too far into the future. It would break her. But she looked at Steve- and she knew she could run to her big brother and he would fix as much of the problem as he was able.

But break it down to this next breath

This next step

This next choice is one that I can make…

She slowed as she reached him; Steve mimicking her actions, and she barrels into his arms, the first wave of emotions nearly knocking her to her knees.

So I'll walk through this night

Stumbling blindly toward the light…

Steve held her- strong and steady- an anchor in her current storm. The lighthouse on the raging sea she was currently tempestuous on. She burrowed deep into that strong grip, those sure arms; that steady heartbeat that had always been a source of hope and home.

And do the next right thing

And with the dawn, what comes then

When it's clear that everything will never be the same again?

“Let’s go home Aricka,” Steve says. “We need to regroup and regather, figure out who all-,” and he stops. But she knew what he was going to say.

Then I'll make the choice

To hear that voice

And do the next right thing…

“We need to keep going- and do the next right thing,” she whispered.

And with that, Steve scooped her up, and carried her to the quinjet, where the next right thing waited for her.

————-

@astralshipper @rosieshipper @hyperionshipping @yeehawselfshipping @letsgofoletsgo @tsundere-selfship @callsign-revenge

[pamzn]

WARNING!!! This is NOT a spoilers free review so you have two options here:

Read the chapter first cause it's so DAMN GOOD!!!!

Click here and you can check the other review i made

i advice option 1, you won't regret it, belive me on this one💕

Here it comes 😮‍💨 SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS below the cut!!! I'm not kidding.

You whine, shuffling your feet unhappily. “But Tae,” you say - okay, you whine. “If my roommate is a guy, then I have to wear a bra in the apartment, like, all the time.”

BEST LINE EVER, MY BRA IS ITCHING RITH NOW, YES TAE FREE THE BOOBIES!

You won’t talk about how when he’d said, “You know, you could stay with me,” in that deep, comforting voice of his, your heart had run wild. 

The trouble begins

Lin has raised you ever since you lost your grandmother, who had taken care of you before that. Your grandmother and Lin are the only parental figures you can really remember, but Lin’s technically only ten years your senior and has always felt more like a big sister than a mother. You can’t fault her for it; she was still quite young when she took over raising you. She certainly didn’t have to take you in, but she had, and she’d done her best.

no no no Jo no no no no, are you serious??? can you make it more sad???? :((( this is the part where i freaked out?? LOL. Give your OC a break PLEASE, let´´s cuddle someone!!!!!!

[11:58 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: 🙄 this is why i asked YOU what time

You press the top of your phone into your forehead, closing your eyes. Letting yourself pretend, for just a second, that he could mean it the way you do.

STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!! I know what you are doing 🥺🥺🥺

Taehyung shows up in the morning - at ten, not nine-thirty, but he has an iced coffee for you in his car, so you let him live. 

The sun shines brightly down on you as you and Taehyung sing and groove your way through the drive, and you feel… so content, so sure that this is right, that you’re meant to be next to him, like this, forever. Like everything in the universe just clicked together to give you the perfect snapshot of how things are meant to be. 

Sometimes, moments like now, you just can’t fathom how he doesn’t feel it too. 

calling it 👀that bitch knows

You really do love this apartment. Through the open space - past the kitchen and through the living room - sunlight streams in through the large front windows that overlook the city block below. You can already see in your mind where you’ll put plants on low tables, or hanging from the ceiling.

yes, what a nice view ***the future***

“Taehyung,” you call tantalizingly. “Come feel it.”

🤤🤤🤤🤤 it's hurting

“Don’t pout,” he says, and there’s something apologetic in his tone. “I just have to do some stuff today. And I really need to shower, this got me all sweaty.”

what ssssstuff bestie? 😒😒😒

You notice a few things right away. He’s tall - taller than Taehyung, and you don’t see that often. His eyes are absolutely striking - there’s sharpness to them, something that makes you want to see the world how he does, something that makes you want to keep looking, something that makes you curious about how he’d see you. 

When he smiles, each cheek dimples, the perfect size for the pad of your index finger.

MELTINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!! PLEASE LET HER PUT HER FINGER ON THAT DIMPLE AT LEAST ONCE

“I have some stuff we can put here, if you want?” he asks, his tone a little uncertain. “Specifically, I have a couch and coffee table, plus a TV and a console to put it on. It should all fit.”

You can just bring your ass over here and we'll be good

“Definitely,” you tell him, tearing your eyes away from Taehyung’s back. There’s something knowing in Namjoon’s face as he watches you, and you flush, feeling weirdly caught.

owwww :((( he knows too

“I don’t have a ton,” you admit, pointing to the two boxes - not very big ones - that you’ve left on the kitchen counter. “If you’ve got more, that’s probably good. I don’t cook that often, to be honest. I’m not very good at it.”

Namjoon smiles at you, leaning over a little like he’s letting you in on a secret. “I can barely boil water,” he admits. “So you’re all good.”

Hi Team We Don't Cook Shit! Nice to meet you

“Should we…” he pauses, adjusts his glasses. “Should we exchange numbers?”

“Only boring people get bored,” Taehyung says sagely, holding up one finger like a wizened philosopher. Then he comes to hug you goodbye, pulling you into a sweet embrace. You want to live there, in the spot between his arms. 

OMG YES MOM!! I don't hate him, I just know he is going to hurt me

The rest of the apartment is lit only by the yellow glow coming from your bedroom, plus the thin, white light that filters in from the streetlight below the living room windows. You hurry into the kitchen and turn on the light over the sink, which vanishes some of the bad feeling for you. You pour your glass of water and lean heavily on the counter, looking out at your empty living room, and the dark doorway of Namjoon’s untouched room. You wish Taehyung had come back over, or that some of your university friends had moved back into the area sooner.

i swear to God that ghosts exist at night and they are waiting for you to go get some water

There’s a guy on the floor surrounded by furniture pieces, a screwdriver, and a packet of instructions in his hands. You can hear a lot of shouting, bumping, and cursing floating in from the stairwell down the hall. 

MY WEAKNESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! F*CK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“JayKay!” you call happily. “Welcome to my house!”

OMG i was SO SO SO happy reading the "JayKay" my heart was bursting

“Notice who’s not here helping,” Jungkook grumbles.

WHERE IS HE!?

“In his defense,” you say, and Jungkook snorts, as if it’s so typical that you’d defend Taehyung, which… it might be, “he did a lot for me yesterday. We had his car packed with my stuff.”

Everyone knows, sweetie

You peek into his bedroom - he’s left the door all the way open, which feels nice, like he trusts you, and you make a mental note that you should probably do the same.

or you could share a room, that's nice too

The bedframe is put together, the boxspring and mattress leaning against the far wall. He’s also got a tall chest of drawers, a wicker hamper, and in the corner, a desk. Namjoon’s furniture is a lot more modern looking than yours, sleek and matching. You bet he didn’t get half of his from the thrift store. 

For real, you're describing every detail, it's insane, so good at making a mental picture, i love that

“I hear what you’re saying, and I respect your opinion,” a flat voice responds that you think might belong to Yoongi. “It’s just that you’re wrong.”

SHUT UP LMFAO!!!!!!!!!!!! MIN YOONGI!!!!💀💀💀

“No, you’re fine,” you assure him. “I’m just… a jumpy person. You’ll get used to it.”

JUMP HIS BONES!!!💀💀💀

“Do you want to order with us?” you ask Namjoon mildly as you scroll through the local delivery app. “I was thinking pizza.”

Roomie wants you all to himself

“--on vacation with his parents,” Namjoon finishes agreeably, “so he’s off the hook. Where was Jimin?”

“Where do you think Jimin was?” Taehyung scoffs, reaching down and touching the rug absently.

“Sleeping,” you and Namjoon say at the same time, both of your voices wry. You smile at him, and he looks away. 

baby can sleep all he wants, he is tired

You stay like that until nearly midnight, talking occasionally but mostly just happily coexisting in your own little bubbles. At some point, Namjoon finishes the bookshelf and wanders into his bedroom, pausing to look at you two on the couch before disappearing. He pushes his door almost shut, leaving it open a few inches. You hear the subtle sounds of music playing from behind the door, but not loud enough to discern what it is. 

owww that door is like a moody lamp

“Thanks for helping me,” you murmur into his chest. Sometimes the only time you can get Taehyung to be serious for a conversation is when you’re like this; in each other’s arms, your walls come down - in his case, deflecting with humor and sarcasm, brushing off everything like it’s a big joke. In yours, saying what you really mean, and not a more delicate version of it.

IT HURTSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!💔💔💔

Once he leaves, you deadbolt the front door and head to the kitchen to wash the plates and cups you’d used for pizza. Behind you, you hear the squeak of door hinges, and Namjoon pads into the kitchen behind you. He pauses, scanning the cupboards.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💕

“So…” Namjoon says between sips of juice. “You two are pretty close, huh?”

F*CK! THE F*CKING PAIN!!!!!!!!

“Yeah,” you say, shrugging easily. “He’s my best friend.”

Namjoon hums, nods, purses his lips thoughtfully. If you knew him better, you’d push - ask him what that face means, or why he’d asked in the first place. 

GILR!!!! YOU KNOW WHY!!!

Taehyung definitely sleeps around, but he’s surprisingly tight-lipped with you about it. You’re not sure if he’s sparing you, or he’s actually just a gentleman. Could go either way. But when Taehyung considers dating someone - rare, to say the least - he always has you vet them first. You never like any of them, surprise surprise. 

This gif is for @kookstempo

Your friendship is precious to you, sacred. It sometimes feels like the only thing you have, in a life where you generally don’t have much. Your family is Lin - that’s it, end of the road. Your girlfriends are nice, but Penny was the closest you had and she’s across the country now. You only have Taehyung. And what you have with him, as special as it is, it’s also precarious. 

If you lose him, it isn’t just that you’ll lose him - and trust, that would be devastating - it’s also that you would be deeply alone. 

Namjoon murmurs goodnight, but you feel his calculating gaze on your back until you close your door softly behind you.

let him in :(( open the door (and the door to your heart too, bestie)

You know what? it's even sadder the second read🤡🤡🤡 yeah i was right for yelling at you...WTF!? I feel empty and excited for the next one

I. My Wild-Running Heart || KNJ

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

//

When your roommate bails last-second and leaves you completely in a bind for the new school year, your best friend Taehyung mentions that his friend Namjoon needs a place off-campus, too.

Section Warnings: language

WC: 7k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Friday August 28 

“Please, no,” you beg. “Please tell me this is a joke. I can’t live with a man. Do you know what men are like?”

Taehyung, quite a specimen of man last time you checked, cocks an eyebrow at you. “Y/N,” he says flatly. “You’re doing it again.”

It meaning being dramatic, and you resent that implication.

You whine, shuffling your feet unhappily. “But Tae,” you say - okay, you whine. “If my roommate is a guy, then I have to wear a bra in the apartment, like, all the time.”

“Oh my god,” he says, throwing his hands in the air, completely over you. “Do you want my help or not? What are your other options right now?”

How nice of him to ask. 

You’d been so excited to lease an apartment off-campus for your final year of university, even more excited to share it with a girl in your writing program named Penny. You hadn’t thought twice about putting the lease in only your own name, but when Penny texted you - the audacity of her to not even call - to say she wasn’t going to return in the fall after all, you were stuck with the responsibility.

So, since Taehyung asked, your options are this: pay the entire rent by yourself (impossible), or find a roommate, fast. 

“Namjoon’s a really good friend of mine,” Taehyung tries again. “I am personally vouching for him that he’s not a weirdo or a creep. His building flooded and he’s in a bind - just like you. He’s nice, he’s smart, and he’s normal.”

“What about clean?” you prod. 

Taehyung shrugs. “Cleaner than me.”

You sigh. You know Taehyung is right - you need someone quickly, and at this rate you’re bound to only find creeps. At least this guy - even though he’s a guy, which is your main issue - has been vetted.

“You’re not very clean,” you tell your best friend.

He grins at you, guilty as charged. 

“Could we talk first?” you suggest, nerves churning. “Like, can I meet him?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you. “Did you think I was going to drop the key off at his place and say ‘okay, have fun!’?”

“Maybe!” you cry, feeling a little hysterical. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes at you. “Want me to see if he can swing by the place tomorrow?”

The plan for the next day was originally for you two to load up your car through the morning, grab lunch somewhere, and then start moving your stuff into the apartment after you ate. 

“Yeah,” you answered. “That actually sounds like a good plan. Then he can see the apartment, too. And you’ll be there with me.”

“Actually a good plan,” Taehyung parrots with a scoff. “Please.”

After your lunch date, Taehyung drops you back home so you can finish packing. You’d packed a lot already - all of your big pieces of furniture were there already, your bedroom now just a mess of random piles of clothing and your bare mattress on the ground. A lot of what you still had were things you knew you’d need to use again during the days you were starting to pack - toiletries, electronics, that kind of thing. With a sigh, you turn on some music and start pulling hangers out of your closet. 

You think about your situation as you work. You’re disappointed about Penny - you’ve lost a roommate and a good friend, somehow. You’re nervous about meeting Taehyung’s friend Namjoon. You’re somehow both excited for and dreading the academic year starting - your final year, complete with a senior thesis course you’ll have to pass in June. And you’re excited for the apartment - your first one that isn’t an on-campus dorm. 

No campus security knocking on the doors, no RA going through your fridge for forbidden liquor bottles, no shared hallway bathrooms. With your own bedroom in the apartment, you’re guaranteed a space that is just yours, a sanctuary where you can have the quiet you crave and aesthetic you want, your own four walls that are completely your own. 

Taehyung’s apartment, which he shares with two friends, isn’t far from your new one - walking distance, actually. He’d offered you his couch there when Penny first bailed. But even if you took his offer, you’d be charged for breaking your lease, and you’d still have to find something more permanent - which would mean another security deposit, not to mention rent. As long as you kept the optimism that you’d successfully secure and keep a roommate, staying was the cheaper option.

You won’t talk about how you wish Taehyung would offer more than his couch.

You won’t talk about how when he’d said, “You know, you could stay with me,” in that deep, comforting voice of his, your heart had run wild. 

Then he’d continued, “That couch isn’t too bad to sleep on, I’ve done it before. And the guys wouldn’t mind. Then you’d have time to find something new, maybe something you can afford alone?”

And your wild-running heart had stuttered, stumbled, caught its footing, stood still. 

You can’t even get mad at him. He’s trying to help. It’s not his fault - at all - that he doesn’t know that your imagination leapt off a cliff at his words, was already picturing snuggling in his bed, those strong arms tight around your middle, was already picturing waking up to his sleepy smile. 

You don’t pretend for even a second that it’s anyone’s fault but your own. 

--

Around ten pm your Aunt Lin comes and knocks on your open door, looking down at the scene before her: you, sitting cross-legged on your bedroom floor, surrounded by half-closed boxes, miscellaneous items strewn around the floor around you, clothing piled up like mountains around you.

“You don’t look very ready,” she remarks.

“That’s helpful, thank you,” you say. 

Lin has raised you ever since you lost your grandmother, who had taken care of you before that. Your grandmother and Lin are the only parental figures you can really remember, but Lin’s technically only ten years your senior and has always felt more like a big sister than a mother. You can’t fault her for it; she was still quite young when she took over raising you. She certainly didn’t have to take you in, but she had, and she’d done her best. 

Lin chuckles. “Why isn’t Taehyung here helping?”

You roll your eyes. “He’s my friend, not my servant. He’s helping me move all this in tomorrow, that’s plenty.”

Lin shrugs, already disinterested. “Okay,” she says lightly. “Well, I wanted to say good luck with the move, and good luck with school this year. Let me know if you need anything.”

You look up from your packing and take in her appearance. She’s in scrubs, a huge thermos of coffee in her hand. She’s got work tonight, then, and won’t be here in the morning when Taehyung picks you up. You should have figured. 

“Thanks,” you say. 

She shifts, looking down the hall instead of at you, suddenly. Lin’s not great with emotions; it’s where you get it from.

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll see you for winter break? If not before?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah. Definitely by then.”

She nods, tells you goodbye, and heads down the hallway. You hear the front door close, and you’re alone with your boxes. That’s about as mushy as it gets with Lin.

[11:44 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: what time tmrw?

[11:45 PM] You: you drive the car, you tell me

[11:51 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: 10?

[11:54 PM] You: you think that’s enough time to pack up the car and drive there before lunch?

[11:58 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: 🙄 this is why i asked YOU what time

[12:01 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: 😤

[12:02 AM] You: 9:30 

[12:03 AM] You: and bring me iced coffee 🤗 plsssss???

[12:06 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

[12:08 AM] You: love u tete

[12:11 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: yeah yeah love you too 

You press the top of your phone into your forehead, closing your eyes. Letting yourself pretend, for just a second, that he could mean it the way you do.

Saturday August 29

Taehyung shows up in the morning - at ten, not nine-thirty, but he has an iced coffee for you in his car, so you let him live. 

It takes you over an hour to load up the car, the boxes and suitcases and garbage bags squished together, shoved impossibly tight, the world’s most desperate game of tetris. Taehyung declares it impossible no less than five times, bemoaning that he’ll have to make the hour drive a second time in order to fit all of your shit. 

In the end, you make it happen. It just takes a little determination. 

The drive to your university is around an hour, depending on traffic. You and Taehyung both don big, goofy aviators and blast music as you sail down the highway, the backseat loaded floor to ceiling. The car is so stuffed, you even have boxes between your feet and on your lap. 

The sun shines brightly down on you as you and Taehyung sing and groove your way through the drive, and you feel… so content, so sure that this is right, that you’re meant to be next to him, like this, forever. Like everything in the universe just clicked together to give you the perfect snapshot of how things are meant to be. 

What if you said it? What if you told him? 

Sometimes, moments like now, you just can’t fathom how he doesn’t feel it too. 

But you know better. You know he doesn’t - doesn’t want to. Something deep inside you tells you to tread carefully with this best friend of yours. Something instinctual tells you that the dysfunctional friendship you’ve crafted together is a Jenga tower and if you so much as nudge the wrong brick, it’s all coming down. 

You eat lunch at a table out in front of a cafe, people watching and basking in the sunlight. It’s the last, trickling days of August, but today’s breezy and cooler. It’ll warm up again before fall comes in full force, you’re sure, but you appreciate the reprieve from the scorching heat, since you’re about to spend several hours hauling boxes up a stairwell.

After lunch, Taehyung drives to your new neighborhood and finds a street-parking spot close to the front entrance of the tall, brick building.

“Okay,” he says. “Now the fun part.”

You giggle. “Have I told you yet that I appreciate you?”

“Elaborate, please,” he says, which is so typical for him. He looks over at you, sunglasses low on his nose.

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I appreciate you helping me move in. I appreciate you driving me. I appreciate the afternoon you’re about to spend carrying boxes and shit.”

“You’re forgetting something,” he tells you sagely.

You want to whack him in the belly for being so obnoxious, but you can’t risk him dumping all your stuff on the sidewalk and fucking off to let you deal with the stairs on your own. 

“I appreciate you finding me a roommate so I don’t have to sleep on your couch,” you add.

“There we go.” Satisfied, he unbuckles, and you both get out and examine the backseat for whichever Tetris piece seems like it could be removed easiest. Arms full of boxes, you make your way up the steps to the little lobby that houses a wall of mail slots, and then up a second set of stairs to your second-floor apartment.

You set down the box you were carrying and dig out the key, opening the door to your new home.

You really do love this apartment. Through the open space - past the kitchen and through the living room - sunlight streams in through the large front windows that overlook the city block below. You can already see in your mind where you’ll put plants on low tables, or hanging from the ceiling.

You had done the big stuff days ago, with both Lin and Taehyung’s help; Lin had rented a little moving van and you’d loaded up the big furniture. From Lin’s house, you’d taken your bedframe and boxspring, leaving just the mattress in your old bedroom at Lin’s house. You’d also loaded up your low dresser, a nightstand, and two bookshelves. You’d gotten a few pieces from a local repurposing store - a desk to work at and a little swiveling chair to go with it. Your final splurge was an expensive mattress; the one in the store had felt like damn clouds. It was set to be delivered sometime this afternoon. 

You’re already looking forward to going to sleep later.

You and Taehyung try to just put boxes where they’re meant to go. Two boxes end up in your bathroom, another two in the kitchen. You split the books between your bedroom and the living room, where a lone bookshelf is the only current piece of furniture. You heave bags of clothes and linens into your closet, determined to deal with them later. 

The mattress delivery goes smoothly, the truck arriving as you and Taehyung are about halfway done unloading the car. You leave the building’s front door and your apartment door propped open and both teams do their thing: the delivery guys carrying the mattress up the steps, you and Taehyung behind them with garbage bags full of your clothes or boxes of books. 

“You,” Taehyung pants, “have way too much stuff.”

You grin sheepishly, as in the other room your new mattress is removed from its plastic wrap and placed atop your awaiting boxspring. You’re itching to dig out your linens and make the bed; that’s always what makes a room feel ready to you, even back when you were just setting up a little dorm. Once the bed was made, everything else slowly fell into place. 

Once the delivery truck rolls away, you throw yourself bodily onto the mattress, letting out a series of happy groans as you let the pillowy goodness envelop you. 

“Taehyung,” you call tantalizingly. “Come feel it.”

You hear him drop a box in the living room with an audible oof - it must have been more books - and then he comes into your new bedroom and flops sideways across the bed next to you, the mattress jumping and settling again under his weight.

“Wow,” he says, rolling on his back and then turning to look at you, his legs bending to touch the floor. “This is nice. Let’s trade, I’ll bring mine over.”

“Nope,” you say, smiling. “I bought this one with my hard-earned summer money. It’s just for me.”

“Yeah,” he says, voice wry, “for you and your guests.”

Now you do whack him in the belly. He grunts, hands covering the spot, then lays still again.

“That wasn’t nice,” he comments mildly. “No hitting.”

“What guests?” you pout. “I haven’t had a guest since–”

“Ah, spare me the Great Drought of 2022 story,” he begs. He sits up, reaching into his pocket. As his hand retracts, you realize his phone is buzzing with an incoming call.

“Bro,” he says as a greeting, and then listens. “Yeah, we’re here now. That’s fine. Sounds good. Okay.”

He taps to hang up and looks at you. “Namjoon is almost here. That’s fine, right?”

“I was right here,” you huff. “Yes, it’s fine, but you literally could have asked me.”

Taehyung ignores you. “There’s one more box. I’ll go get it, and then I’ll stay while you meet with Joon, and then I’m gonna go, okay?”

“Oh,” you say, heart sinking a little bit. You’d kind of hoped he’d stick around, just hang out and goof off while you unpacked boxes and organized your stuff. “Sure.”

He reads you like a book; he always does.

“Don’t pout,” he says, and there’s something apologetic in his tone. “I just have to do some stuff today. And I really need to shower, this got me all sweaty.”

Well, you don’t need that mental image. Luckily, you’re saved from yourself by a knock at the front door. This strikes you as so polite, because not only is Namjoon going to literally live here, but also because the door is still propped wide open.

You sit up, fixing your hair from where you laid on it. Taehyung has already made his way through the living room and is giving a one-handed bro-hug to the guy at the door. You make your way over, heart thumping. 

You notice a few things right away. He’s tall - taller than Taehyung, and you don’t see that often. His eyes are absolutely striking - there’s sharpness to them, something that makes you want to see the world how he does, something that makes you want to keep looking, something that makes you curious about how he’d see you. 

When he smiles, each cheek dimples, the perfect size for the pad of your index finger. He’s all in browns except for a pair of light-wash jeans. He’s got a dark brown beanie tugged low on his head, and even his thin, wire-frame glasses seem to be chosen for the vibe above all else.

“Hi,” you say, sounding a little shy even to your own ears. Taehyung moves out of the way and you reach to shake Namjoon’s hand. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. Taehyung promised me you’re normal.”

The guy lets out one big laugh, surprised. “He told me the same,” he says conspiratorially, “but really, that’s such a subjective thing.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, and you step back to let Namjoon in, preparing to show him around. 

“Kitchen and living room are here,” you say unnecessarily, since he can see for himself. “Your bedroom would be on this side.” You push open the door and Namjoon sticks his head in. The room is completely bare, the empty closet door standing open. 

“You get your own bathroom,” Taehyung points out. Namjoon nods appreciatively, still looking silently back and forth across the room that would be his as soon as you pass him a key.

“Is it okay?” you ask, suddenly feeling nervous. If this guy backs out, you’ll be back at square one, and now with less time to solve the problem.

“Oh,” he says, as if remembering he should communicate. “Yeah! It’s great.” He turns and peers at the living room, which is empty but for your lone bookshelf and several boxes of books, unopened.

“I have some stuff we can put here, if you want?” he asks, his tone a little uncertain. “Specifically, I have a couch and coffee table, plus a TV and a console to put it on. It should all fit.”

“That would be great,” you say enthusiastically. “I was already stressing out about saving up enough for a couch.”

He nods easily, looking around the room thoughtfully. Taehyung has wandered over to the large windows and is looking up at the tree that stands right outside, the branches waving lightly in the afternoon breeze. With the sunlight coming in, he looks like a painting. 

“I have a rug, too,” Namjoon muses. “Would you be interested in that?”

“Definitely,” you tell him, tearing your eyes away from Taehyung’s back. There’s something knowing in Namjoon’s face as he watches you, and you flush, feeling weirdly caught.

“Okay,” he says, “I’ll bring it. What about kitchen stuff?”

“I don’t have a ton,” you admit, pointing to the two boxes - not very big ones - that you’ve left on the kitchen counter. “If you’ve got more, that’s probably good. I don’t cook that often, to be honest. I’m not very good at it.”

Namjoon smiles at you, leaning over a little like he’s letting you in on a secret. “I can barely boil water,” he admits. “So you’re all good.”

You stand together as you discuss how you’ll be splitting the monthly costs for the utilities, not to mention the high-speed wifi that’s getting set up in two days. That leaves you to work out the rent, what day it’s due and how you want to handle paying it. In the end, you decide that he’ll electronically pay you, and you’ll pay the landlord, since it’s your name on the lease. He pays you right there on the spot, and you pass him the key that was meant for Penny.

“Is it okay if I start moving my things tomorrow?” he asks you.

You shrug. “This place is yours now, too,” you say easily. “You can honestly do what you want.”

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll probably start in the morning then?”

“I can’t promise I’ll be up,” you laugh, “but don’t let that stop you!”

“Should we…” he pauses, adjusts his glasses. “Should we exchange numbers?”

Taehyung makes a face you know well; it’s the face he makes when he wants to laugh or make fun of something, and he’s doing the Good Person Thing by keeping the thought to himself, but he wants to make sure you know by his face that he is holding it in. He wants credit for doing the Good Person Thing.

You honestly hate him sometimes. It’s the only thing keeping you from tipping straight into insanity. Sometimes, I really hate Taehyung. 

“Yes, we probably should,” you say, because someone in this room needs to act like they aren’t twelve years old, and it’s not going to be Kim Taehyung, apparently.

You do, and then Namjoon tells you both goodbye, making his way back out to the hallway and down the steps. You can hear his footsteps fall away into nothing. 

Taehyung looks at you, smiles angelically. “See?” he says. “I told you he was nice.”

He reaches for his keys on your kitchen counter. You frown, detecting his imminent departure. 

“Will you come over tomorrow?” you ask, a little pitifully. 

He considers this, and nods. “For dinner?” he suggests. 

“Yeah,” you say. “We still won’t have wifi yet. We’ll be bored.”

“Only boring people get bored,” Taehyung says sagely, holding up one finger like a wizened philosopher. Then he comes to hug you goodbye, pulling you into a sweet embrace. You want to live there, in the spot between his arms. 

Once he’s gone, you look around your new home. Alone, you decide to put on music and start tackling boxes. You start in the bathroom, finding towels so you’ll be able to shower in the morning, unpacking all your toiletries, setting up your toothbrush just so. You do the kitchen second; the sun sets outside as you find places for your battered pots and pans. 

You stop for dinner, getting take-out from a place nearby that delivers. Then you dive back in, setting up your bedroom. It feels cozy already, once the bed is made and you’ve plugged in your little lamps. Calmer, you start folding clothes to put into dresser drawers. At one point you wander out of your room to get some water and you freeze in your bedroom doorway, struck by how lonely it feels. 

The rest of the apartment is lit only by the yellow glow coming from your bedroom, plus the thin, white light that filters in from the streetlight below the living room windows. You hurry into the kitchen and turn on the light over the sink, which vanishes some of the bad feeling for you. You pour your glass of water and lean heavily on the counter, looking out at your empty living room, and the dark doorway of Namjoon’s untouched room. You wish Taehyung had come back over, or that some of your university friends had moved back into the area sooner.

You rinse your glass and head back into your room, ready to distract yourself with more unpacking until you’re tired enough to sleep.

Sunday September 30

Bumps and crashes wake you in the morning. It takes you a few minutes to figure out where you are - ah, the cloud bed, in your new room. The morning sunlight is strong; apparently the windows on the front of the apartment face the east. You make a mental note to shop for some good blackout curtains, and check your phone. Not much waiting for you - Lin texted around 1 am asking if you got settled okay, probably while she was on a quick break. You answer her, check your socials, and then lay back, just looking around. 

You got a lot done yesterday, but you still have more unpacking to do. It also occurs to you that not only is there no coffee waiting for you in the kitchen, there’s no food of any kind in the whole place, unless you count your container of leftover takeout from last night. 

You shower and get dressed, figuring it's best to stay out of the way - you can hear the grunts and huffs and loud bumps that indicate Namjoon’s got some friends helping him move things in. But eventually, the growling in your stomach and your body’s clamoring for caffeine send you out into the living room.

The low entertainment center is in place across the room from you, a flatscreen tv situated on top. There are now two stools tucked beneath the breakfast bar in the kitchen, and a pretty, wooden coffee table sits in the center of the living room.

There’s a guy on the floor surrounded by furniture pieces, a screwdriver, and a packet of instructions in his hands. You can hear a lot of shouting, bumping, and cursing floating in from the stairwell down the hall. 

“Hey,” the guy on the floor says. “You’re Y/N? I’m Namjoon’s friend, Yoongi.”

“Hi,” you say, a little bewildered. “What are you… building?”

He sighs, squinting at the paper in his hand. “It’s supposed to be a bookshelf. Eventually.”

You’re about to respond to this when the noise from outside the open door gets infinitely louder. You see Namjoon’s expansive back as he shuffles backwards through the doorway, one end of a faded, grey couch in his hands. 

“Okay, you have to turn,” he coaches whoever is on the other side.

The couch makes it through the door, and you’re surprised to see that you know the other person carrying the couch. He’s one of Taehyung’s best friends, and you’ve hung out together as a group plenty of times over the last three years.

“JayKay!” you call happily. “Welcome to my house!”

He laughs, nose scrunching with delight. “Y/N,” he crows. “Where should I put the couch?”

“Across from the tv,” Namjoon answers for you, sounding a little breathless. They shuffle through the room, and you notice for the first time that they’ve already put the rug in place, covering most of the warped, wooden floor of the living room. The couch settles over top of it, and Namjoon slides the coffee table to a more centered position.

One more guy comes through your doorway, carrying a nightstand and a lamp. He’s got quite possibly the widest shoulders you’ve ever seen. He disappears into Namjoon’s bedroom, and you hear the quiet thump as he sets the nightstand down in there.

“Wow,” you say. “You’ve got a whole moving crew.”

“Notice who’s not here helping,” Jungkook grumbles.

You smile to yourself. If you know him at all, you’ll guess Taehyung isn’t even out of bed yet. 

“In his defense,” you say, and Jungkook snorts, as if it’s so typical that you’d defend Taehyung, which… it might be, “he did a lot for me yesterday. We had his car packed with my stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook mutters and turns to - presumably - get more stuff from downstairs.

“You have a lot left?” you ask Namjoon, who seems to be catching his breath for a minute, perched on the arm of the couch. “I’d offer to help, but I was just about to go get groceries - there’s very literally no food here.”

“We’re about done with the heavier stuff,” he says, looking at the open door, like he’ll find an inventory there that he can reference. “But still plenty of assembling left.”

“Hooray,” Yoongi deadpans from the floor, holding the instruction packet up in the air like a different angle will help him decipher the directions.

You find your little foldable cart and make your way to the grocery store a few blocks away. By the time you’re done scouring the aisles, you’ve loaded the cart to the top and still have to carry some of the bags. But at least now you’ll have food to eat, things to drink besides tap water. 

Getting up the stairs with your groceries sucks, but you make it, panting like crazy as you finally unlock the front door and let yourself in.

You’re greeted with silence; it’s clear the guys are all gone. The living room looks completely different than twenty-four hours ago. The couch and table look great, and it seems like Yoongi’s bookshelf is mostly complete - it’s upright, just missing a few shelves near the top. You set the groceries down in the kitchen next to three unopened boxes - it seems like Namjoon’s gameplan was the same as yours yesterday: get the boxes into the appropriate rooms, do the rest later. 

You peek into his bedroom - he’s left the door all the way open, which feels nice, like he trusts you, and you make a mental note that you should probably do the same. You notice that it looks like the furniture is all in place there, too. It doesn’t differ much from yours, actually. The bedframe is put together, the boxspring and mattress leaning against the far wall. He’s also got a tall chest of drawers, a wicker hamper, and in the corner, a desk. Namjoon’s furniture is a lot more modern looking than yours, sleek and matching. You bet he didn’t get half of his from the thrift store. 

You put the groceries away and make yourself a small lunch, eating it on the couch in the quiet of the apartment. You’ve got about twenty-four hours to go until there’s wifi and you can stream shows when you’re home alone. You’re just cleaning up your lunch when you hear a key in the lock, and then the cacophony of boys’ voices as they reenter the apartment. 

“-far superior, I’m telling you,” Jungkook is saying emphatically. The smell of greasy burgers and fries hits you in the kitchen along with the sound of his voice.

“I hear what you’re saying, and I respect your opinion,” a flat voice responds that you think might belong to Yoongi. “It’s just that you’re wrong.”

“Hey,” Namjoon says, noticing you standing in the kitchen. The guys pass through, heading into the living room, Jungkook already digging in the bag. They surround the coffee table, handing out burgers and fries, filling the room with delicious smells and noisy chatter.

You take this opportunity to head back into your room, sitting on your bedroom floor and opening one of your boxes of books, starting to put them on the small shelf beneath your window. You pop in your airpods and turn on music, losing yourself in the monotonous movement of digging out a new book, then turning to place it on the shelf. Rinse, and repeat.

When you finish, you move into your closet. You put your little wire shoe rack back together and locate your box of shoes, lining them up neatly. Then, you tackle another garbage bag full of clothes that go on hangers, flapping each shirt or dress to relieve it of wrinkles before hanging it up. After that, you find a box of miscellaneous dresser items - jewelry boxes, perfume bottles, headbands - and put those where you want them, too.

By the time you decide you need to sit down and take a break, it’s nearly evening, the light outside reaching that golden hour. You really do love the natural lighting in this place. 

You take out your airpods and set them to charge, listening carefully. You’ve had your bedroom door open this whole time, but the guys had left you alone and you’d minded your own business. Now, the apartment is filled with silence again. They must be gone.

You text Taehyung for the first time that day, which strikes you as weird. He must have been busy today, too. It’s odd for you two to make it until almost dinner without speaking.

“Dinner?” you text, and then wander out into the living room. 

“Hey,” a voice says from near the floor, and you practically leap out of your skin. You startle so violently that your phone slips from your hands and clatters to the floor.

“Holy crap,” you breathe when you realize Namjoon is sitting on the floor next to his newly assembled bookshelf, an open box of books before him. He seems to be sorting them into piles before putting any on the shelf.

“Sorry,” he says, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to--”

“No, you’re fine,” you assure him. “I’m just… a jumpy person. You’ll get used to it.”

You watch him sort books for a minute, then eye your own empty bookshelf, your boxes still closed on the ground next to it. You decide if it’s Bookshelf Hours, you might as well, right? You set your phone on the coffee table and settle in, opening your first box and starting to place books on the bottommost shelf.

“So,” you say, because it feels weird to be sitting four feet from your new roommate and not speaking, “Taehyung said you’re a grad student at the university?”

Namjoon nods wordlessly, eyes on the books he’s sorting. “Yep,” he says finally. “And you’re a senior?”

“Mhm,” you confirm. 

After that scintillating conversation, you both lapse into silence as you work. You continue like that for some time - long enough to reach the middle shelf - before you realize you hear your phone buzzing on the table. You stretch to reach for it, missing how Namjoon glances sideways at you, at how an inch of your stomach is revealed as you lean over. 

“Hi,” you say, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Took you long enough to answer,” Taehyung gripes.

“Sorry,” you say. “We were putting books away.”

Taehyung’s silence is just one beat too long. “We, huh?”

You laugh, once. “I mean? That’s what each of us is doing? So? Yeah?” From his spot a few feet away, Namjoon glances over his shoulder, frowning slightly.

“Anyway,” you say, “dinner? Do you want to come over?” 

“Yes,” he says decisively. “Order us something and I’ll head over?”

“Sure,” you say, already hanging up. You don’t need to ask what he wants; no matter where you order from, you know what he likes. 

“Do you want to order with us?” you ask Namjoon mildly as you scroll through the local delivery app. “I was thinking pizza.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says slowly, like he was deep in thought and has to process what you’d said to him. “That would be nice. Thanks.”

The place you’d order from back when you lived in the dorms is actually closer to this apartment than campus, which is the most beautiful, serendipitous thing that’s ever happened in your life. You place the order for delivery and continue putting your books away. Once all the books are on shelves, you’re essentially done - finally, after two days - unpacking. 

This gives you exactly one whole day to relax before you have to start going to classes again.

Taehyung arrives before the pizza, knocking on the door in a silly rhythm. You pound back on your side of the door, echoing his rhythm, before opening it, greeting him with a big smile. You’d missed him; of course you had.

“Wow,” he says, genuinely impressed, as he peers around you. “It looks so much different in here.”

“Right?” you ask, filled with joy. Taehyung pokes his head into the kitchen, which is arguably the least “ready” room, as aside from putting your things into drawers and cupboards, neither you nor Namjoon had really done much to it. No hand-towels hanging by the sink, no magnets on the fridge, even the counters were empty, save for the two sets of keys resting there. Taehyung adds his own to the key pile and moves into the living room, which is much more impressive.

“Hey, man,” Namjoon says from the floor. It seems like he’s done sorting his books into piles and has started actually putting them on shelves now. “Looks good, right?”

“It does,” Taehyung answers from the doorway of Namjoon’s room, where he's peeking nosily. “The guys helped you?”

“Everyone except you and Jimin,” Namjoon says innocently. 

Taehyung smiles guiltily. “I helped Y/N the entire day before, just the two of us,” he argues. “And what about Hobi? He’s on--”

“--on vacation with his parents,” Namjoon finishes agreeably, “so he’s off the hook. Where was Jimin?”

“Where do you think Jimin was?” Taehyung scoffs, reaching down and touching the rug absently.

“Sleeping,” you and Namjoon say at the same time, both of your voices wry. You smile at him, and he looks away. 

The pizza arrives and you all sit around the coffee table to eat. Conversation flows better with Taehyung in the mix; he talks so much, it almost doesn’t matter if anyone else does. 

“I was thinking of making a list of things we need for the apartment that wouldn’t necessarily belong to either of us - cleaning supplies, stuff like that,” Namjoon says to you. “I thought I could buy it and we could split the cost?”

“Buy the cheap stuff,” Taehyung advises. “Y/N’s summer money is gonna go fast, especially the way she orders out instead of cooking.”

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you say flatly, shooting him a look. “I start work in like two days. I can handle it.”

After the pizza’s done, Namjoon goes back to working on his bookshelf, obviously wanting to clear the floorspace of his book piles sooner rather than later. You and Taehyung sprawl across the couch opposite each other, his feet resting near your elbow, both of you on your phones. 

You stay like that until nearly midnight, talking occasionally but mostly just happily coexisting in your own little bubbles. At some point, Namjoon finishes the bookshelf and wanders into his bedroom, pausing to look at you two on the couch before disappearing. He pushes his door almost shut, leaving it open a few inches. You hear the subtle sounds of music playing from behind the door, but not loud enough to discern what it is. 

Taehyung hugs you before leaving, and you snuggle into the embrace, body exhausted from the moving process. He rests his chin on top of your head, swaying you around a little bit. 

“Thanks for helping me,” you murmur into his chest. Sometimes the only time you can get Taehyung to be serious for a conversation is when you’re like this; in each other’s arms, your walls come down - in his case, deflecting with humor and sarcasm, brushing off everything like it’s a big joke. In yours, saying what you really mean, and not a more delicate version of it.

“You’re welcome,” he answers, squeezing you a little. “I’m glad everything worked out. It really does look good in here. And I think you guys will get along.” 

Once he leaves, you deadbolt the front door and head to the kitchen to wash the plates and cups you’d used for pizza. Behind you, you hear the squeak of door hinges, and Namjoon pads into the kitchen behind you. He pauses, scanning the cupboards.

“I don’t remember which one I put my cups in,” he laughs a little, and then starts opening each one until he finds what he needs. Once he has a glass, he rummages in the fridge, taking out a juice carton and filling his glass about halfway. You finish washing the last plate and turn the water off, rummaging through a drawer for a dish towel to dry everything.  

“So…” Namjoon says between sips of juice. “You two are pretty close, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, shrugging easily. “He’s my best friend.”

Namjoon hums, nods, purses his lips thoughtfully. If you knew him better, you’d push - ask him what that face means, or why he’d asked in the first place. 

But, you don’t need to. You know already. You’re used to being interrogated by others about your relationship with Taehyung. Sometimes people are trying to see if you’re a threat in their quest to worm their way into Taehyung’s heart (or pants) - and in your own weird way, you kind of are, at least for the former. 

Taehyung definitely sleeps around, but he’s surprisingly tight-lipped with you about it. You’re not sure if he’s sparing you, or he’s actually just a gentleman. Could go either way. But when Taehyung considers dating someone - rare, to say the least - he always has you vet them first. You never like any of them, surprise surprise. 

You’re used to girls approaching you in bathrooms, sometimes aggressively, sometimes meekly, to ask if Taehyung’s your boyfriend. You’ve had girls come apologize, saying they “didn’t know about you”. Once you’d had a girl nearly shove you down a staircase for talking to “her man”, but luckily, said man was walking next to you and helped shut the whole thing down. (You two had had a serious talk after that one about communicating with his partners about his relationship status. Things have never gone that far again, to date.)

Less frequently, you’ll get asked about Taehyung by guys who are interested in you, who are trying to figure out how much of a lost cause it is. That one’s a little trickier. How do you tell the cute guy at the coffee shop that no, you’re not dating Taehyung, but you are secretly so in love with him that it really isn’t worth their time? 

Anyway, usually you just tell guys that you’re not dating Taehyung but that you’re not interested in dating anyone. It usually does the trick. It’s not that far from the truth, either.

That leaves the last category of people who ask about you two, and this is where you feel Namjoon falls: the people who watch your weird, boundary-pushing friendship and are just genuinely curious how it could possibly work. 

And you get it, you really do. You know how this looks from the outside. Hell, you’re sure that from the outside it’s fairly obvious how gone you are for him. Is it just as obvious to the outside that he sees you more like a sister than anything datable? 

Probably.

You’ve had friends ask you what keeps you around. You always say the same thing - regardless of your feelings for him, he’s also your absolute best friend.

Your friendship is precious to you, sacred. It sometimes feels like the only thing you have, in a life where you generally don’t have much. Your family is Lin - that’s it, end of the road. Your girlfriends are nice, but Penny was the closest you had and she’s across the country now. You only have Taehyung. And what you have with him, as special as it is, it’s also precarious. 

If you lose him, it isn’t just that you’ll lose him - and trust, that would be devastating - it’s also that you would be deeply alone. 

Finished with the dishes, you bid Namjoon goodnight and head back into your room for the night, planning to change into pajamas and wait for Taehyung to text you that he made it home safely, wait for Taehyung to text you goodnight. Namjoon murmurs goodnight, but you feel his calculating gaze on your back until you close your door softly behind you.

Thank you so much for reading! I started writing this in August, it feels amazing to finally postttttt. Please consider some type of feedback - I'd love to hear anything you want to share! Section II will post on Friday, January 27th - hope to see you there!

[fictionalmenmakemecry]

Staying by his Side

Written Upon Request!

Click here for request!

Characters: Johnny Depp x Reader

Summary: You support Johnny while going through the difficult times of the trial. As time goes by, you feel him drifting more and more away from you. You get to breaking point and confront him, only for him to show a side you never saw before.

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut

I looked at myself in the mirror as I fiddled with putting on my earrings which I got for a birthday gift. I could sense someone's eyes on me and turned around to see Johnny in the doorway of our bedroom, fixing the cuffs of his suit.

"How do I look?" Johnny sighed walking towards me.

I rarely ever saw him nervous. He was usually the relaxed one in the relationship but this trial showed me a different side of him. A side I felt sorry for. He was everything he usually wasn't. He was anxious, fearful, worried and doubtful.

"Handsome as always" I gave a reassuring smile straightening his tie and brushing off some loose lint on his shoulders.

He gave me a small smile and brought his attention to my ears, instantly noticing them.

"I wish we had a better reason to wear these" Johnny reached up brushing his finger lightly across the pearls.

"Would you help me with this?" I asked, wanting to change the subject. I leaned over to get a simple silver necklace on my dresser and handed it to Johnny.

I turned around and lifted my hair to give better access to my neck. I felt the cold chain touch my neck as he put it around me and played with the latch.

"Thank you" I said quietly feeling the silence in the room.

I knew Johnny had a lot on his mind. I could see him sinking into thought as we got closer to the court date. I really could only see a shell of a man compared to when we first met 15 years ago.

"Johnny, everything will turn out okay" I brought my hand up to his face caressing it.

"The coming weeks are going to be hard but you have me, your family, friends and fans all behind you" I continued wanting to support him any way I could.

"You're right, it won't last forever" He broke into a smile.

I know deep inside me though, the smile was more for me than it was for him.

I reached up and gave him a kiss before one of his assistants knocked on the door and informed us that it was time to make our way to the courthouse.

I looked into his eyes and we both took a deep breath and made our way out of the room to face the start of a long battle.

As the days went by, I felt Johnny wasn't present when we would come back home from a long day. He was drained emotionally and mentally from reliving a lot of the unpleasant memories when it came to his ex.

We would come home, have dinner mostly in silence and then he would disappear until late hours of the night. I wanted to respect his space and give time to himself. But apart of me felt completely disconnected from him. I missed him. Even though he would be right beside me, mentally he wasn't. I felt selfish feeling the way I did. I had no right to think this way especially at this present moment. So I kept my feelings to myself.

My mind would wander to the night everything changed. I had a small dinner to celebrate my birthday at my place. Being surrounded with all my closest friends made the night perfect for me. Johnny being one of them, came bearing a gift and gave me a big hug like usual wishing my a happy birthday. We all sat around the table enjoying delicious food and making sure no glass turned empty. We laughed and reminisced of fun old memories. I looked over at Johnny greatful that he could make it.

"I'm so glad you're here" I beamed leaning over to him so he could hear me over all the loud chatter.

"You know I wouldn't miss it for the world" He grinned

As the night went on, people said their goodbyes and went home. I closed the front door and came back into the room to only see Johnny left who started stacking the plates and clearing the food from them.

"Oh Johnny don't worry about them. I'll deal with them later" I chuckled seeing how truly sweet he was.

"I'm not leaving you with this. I want to help" He looked up at me and smiled.

We both started clearing the table and bringing everything back into the kitchen. I rinsed the dishes and he placed them in the packed dishwasher.

"I hope you had a good night?" Johnny asked while I handed him the last of the glasses.

"I really did. It meant a lot to me that you could make it" I looked over at him drying my hands on a towel.

"Over the years, you've never missed one of mine and I intent to do the same" He leant against the kitchen counter across from me.

We looked at each other not saying anything. I noticed he was wearing a waistcoat with a navy shirt. His sleeves were rolled up making his tattoos visible.

"I never notice how many tattoos you had" I said leaning over to take a closer look.

He brought his arm closer to me turning it slowly to show me all of them.

"I've gotten so used to them, I don't even pay attention to them anymore" Johnny glanced up at me.

"You don't have any?" He asked bringing the focus on to me.

I blushed instantly knowing what I was going to have to show him.

"I do" I embarrassedly smiled

"I didn't think you would" Johnny smirked raising his eyebrows.

"I was 19, drunk and it was spontaneous" I chuckled turning around and dropping my cardigan off my shoulders to allow him to see a small snake running down the middle of my back.

I could feel his fingers brushed along my skin as he moved my hair to the side. I felt goosebumps raise along my arm from the surprised contact.

"It suits you" I could sense him smiling flirtatiously

I turned around to come to the realization of how close we were. I didn't want to pull away. So I stayed and looked up to see his eyes meet mine.

Johnny and I had always been close. There was moments I thought we could get together but the timing was never right. One of us would be busy with work or would be in relationship. We were always supportive of each other. I had a baby crush on him but I tried to not get in the way of our friendship. I wouldn't have thought he would feel the same way about me.

Up until this very point.

He took my hands into his and brushed his thumbs along my knuckles making me feel instantly at ease.

"You look beautiful tonight" Johnny commented softly his eyes never leaving mine.

I felt myself turning red and glanced away in shyness. Every cell in my body wanted to lean up and kiss him but something was holding me back. I brought my eyes back to his to see him looking at my lips but bringing his eyes back to mine.

I sensed him lean in slowly to me. Before I knew it, I felt his soft lips press against mine. My hand instantly went to his neck feeling the heat come off his skin. His hands went to my hair, tucking it behind my ear. My body felt electric, I felt my face melt into his other hand as he rest it on my jaw.

Even after 4 years, thinking back on that memory, it still stay fresh in my mind.

I woke up at 3am to not feeling a sleeping body next to me. I got up groggily and aimlessly found my dressing gown in the dark, I threw it around me and made my way out of the room. I walked down the hallway to see a dim light coming from the kitchen. I slowly pushed the ajar door further not wanting to startle Johnny. I peeped my head around to see him smoking a cigarette over the kitchen sink blowing the smoke out the open window.

"Can't sleep?" I asked bundling my dressing gown around me and making my way to him.

He glance over taking one last inhale before throwing the end of his cigarette out the window.

"I don't even know what that is anymore" He laughed quietly to himself walking towards me.

He looked down at me wrapping his arms around my waist. I rested my head against his chest closing my eyes and remembering all the happy memories that we made in this very kitchen. The delicious meals and midnight feasts we dug into.

"Come on love, let's try.. What is it called again?" Sleep?" Johnny chuckled.

"Very funny" I smiled securing his hand in mine and leading him out of the kitchen.

The days turned into weeks and suddenly a whole month has gone by in a blink of an eye. Johnny and I had gotten to a point where, to me, it felt like we were living in two different worlds at times.

I would try my best to make his favourite dinners. I would suggest we watch classic movies that he enjoyed to take his mind off things. I even went to buy some of his food that he loves. He would comment on it and try to show some type of appreciation but I knew he just didn't have any interest.

He spend his days in court or in meetings with his legal team. He come home and rarely did we even eat together anymore. He would close his office door and that would be that.

I would knock on his office door hoping he would open it and let me in so we could spend some quality time. But most of the time, he would give me an excuse or explain how busy he was.

I had gotten to the point of cracking. I fell in love with someone who enjoy spending their time with me. Someone who wanted to be in a relationship with me. But it felt that Johnny just was too busy or just didn't care about me like he used to. Some nights while eating dinner alone, I would start crying feeling the emptiness of the house and loneliness consume me completely. I would pull myself together and carry on before Johnny would even notice.

As the court days flickered by, we were coming near the end and tensions were building. The jury was going to give their decision and see how it would be settled.

It was coming to the end, the final week of the trial, tomorrow would be the last day. I heard constant mumbling from outside Johnny's office as I walked past making my way to the kitchen. I went over to the oven and opened the door to check on tonight's dinner. To see it nearly ready, I set the table for myself and decided that maybe tonight Johnny would actually want to have dinner with me. I carefully set his side in hope. I heard the office door opening and the sound of voices getting clearer as everyone made there way out of the room. I peered around the corner to see them making their way to the front door and Johnny saying goodbye.

He turned around and saw me, giving me a weak smile before waving them off and closing the front door behind them.

"I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me tonight?" I asked.

"It's nearly ready" I added smiling in anticipation.

"Yeah, I will. It smells great" He nodded coming towards me

"Great" I said a little too enthusiastically.

I gestured for him to sit at the set table and starting prepping dinner on to plates. I handed him his plate as he poured two glasses of wine.

We both settled into our dinners with only the sound of cutlery hitting the dishes.

"So how do you feel now that it's nearly over?" I asked taking a sip of my wine.

"Some relief knowing we are near the end. At this point, whatever happens, happens" Johnny said popping some mash potato into his mouth.

I looked down at my plate and suddenly lost all appetite. I felt a lump build up in my throat.

"Is everything okay?" Johnny asked concerned as I continued to look down.

I kept looking at my plate knowing that if I met his eye line, I would start crying. I have gotten to a point where even having dinner with him felt like he was a stranger to me. I felt completely depressed coming to that realization and my stomach was heavy.

I could feel Johnny's stare follow as I left the room. But I didn't care what he thought. I was too overwhelmed with emotion to even consider his feelings at this moment. He trailed behind me as I reached for the tissue box on the counter.

"Excuse me" I mumble trying to hold myself together before dropping my cutlery and getting up, making my way to the kitchen.

I brought the tissue up to my face to stop the tears falling down my cheeks. I clench my jaw to try and stop myself from completely breaking down.

"Y/n" Johnny uttered worryingly taking a few step towards me with open arms.

I put my hand up to stop him from coming any closer. I looked up at him to see his face covered in confusion and concern.

"What's wrong?" He furrowed his brows together.

There was silence for a couple of moments. I need to be able to control my emotion.

"Are you really that oblivious?" I remarked playing with the damp tissue in my hand.

I looked over to see Johnny taken aback.

"I-I know we've been distant the last few weeks but..." Johnny stuttered pushing his hair out of his face.

"Distant is one way to put it" I mumbled pressing my lip together.

"Why do you say that?" He questioned.

I took a deep breath knowing that everything that has been building up the last few weeks would be dished out right now. All my emotions that built up, the pain and loneliness.

"Johnny do you even love me anymore?" I asked sharply looking over at him.

His eyebrows shot up in disbelief and I heard him take in a deep inhale. His warm brown eyes were now filled with sorrowfulness. He searched my face while trying to find words.

"For the past month, I have never felt so alone in a relationship. I knew it was going to be hard. But we've always been there for each other even as friends over the years." I expressed crossing my arms.

Johnny stood there in what looked like complete shock.

"Y/n, I'm sor-"

"You're telling me you had no idea?" I interrupted looking at him coldly.

"I tried to support you in every way possible. I would make your favourite dinners, give you massages, stayed up with you all hours in the night to help you with documents." I stated my voice unwavered.

"You know how hard it is to hear about your partner and his ex's sex life? For the whole world to hear your sexting conversations ?" My voice started to break as I raised it. I could not hold back all the emotion that I had pushed down for so long.

Johnny dropped his head down what looked like in shame. Tears rolled down my face again wiping them away with the disintegrating tissue in my hands.

"I love you so much. I give you everything I could to support you. But I can only give so much before I'm left with nothing." I wept.

My head started pounding and I had finally cracked and flooded the room with my sadness. We both stay silence for awhile. Both of us gathering our thoughts.

"I was going to do this when this whole court situation was over with" Johnny muttered.

"What?" I looked confusingly at him not understanding what he was talking about.

He reached his hand out and I looked up at him. I hesitantly took it and he leaned me out of the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" I asked not understanding what was happening.

We stopped outside his office door and he turned to me.

"You don't understand how sorry I am to ever make you think that I don't love you." Johnny apologized taking both of his hands in mine.

"Looking back, I realised how cold I've acted towards you" He continued.

His eyes would flicker between both of mine. His voice was quiet and soft. I felt his thumbs brush the back of my knuckles like he always does when I need comfort.

"Johnn-"

"No, I need to say this" He cut across me.

"We've been friends for a long time and you always been there for me. Since then, I've fallen madly in love with you. To ever think, I've hurt you in any way makes my heart ache. I've wanted to show how much you mean to me for awhile and I struggled. But something came to my mind and I've been completely engrossed in it. I hope you'll forgive me" Johnny expressed apologetically.

He let go of one of my hands and turned the handle of the door. We walked into his office to see it in an untidy state; documents, files and stacks of paper everywhere.

We weave through the mess until we got to a door at the back of this room which I always assumed was a closet of some sort.

"I hope this explains it" He glanced at me nervously before opening the door.

He opens the door and instantly colour pops out. The walls are covered in sketching and painting in every size and colour. My eyes were overwhelmed visually not being to focus on thing before moving on to the next. I took a few steps and notice the room wasn't big but it was cluttered with paints, inks, varnishes, sketchbooks. Multiple canvas were stack against the walls of his artwork of all different styles. There was a desk but it was covered in papers and paintbrushes, it was a complete mess.

"Oh my god" I mumbled to myself.

The walls were covered in candid photographs of random people on the street. Some were crossing a street, eating ice cream and other random things. They were beautiful and made them special moments.

"Did you take these?" I asked looking over at him with my mouth open from shock.

Johnny stood in the door way still, with his hands behind his back. He looked like a little kid who was shy about showing his schoolwork.

"Y-yeah I did" He nodded giving a small smile.

I turned back around continued to making my way around the room. I grinned instantly seeing photos of me that I didn't realise he had taken. Photos of me cooking, cleaning and even sleeping. The photo had me laying on my stomach with my arms under the pillow hugging it. I looked peaceful and completely unconscious. I felt him come up behind me leaning over resting his head over my shoulder.

"You look so beautiful sleeping. I never get tired looking at you" He smiled affectionately at me.

I brought my hand up and caressed his face resting my head against his.

The more I looked the more photos I found of me. There had to be hundreds of me doing the most mundane activities. I was overwhelmed with how much he loved taken photos of me. I wondered how I was this oblivious to my surroundings.

"How did you take so many photos of me being completely clueless?" I quizzed feeling embarrassed.

"It was hard at the beginning but I would notice when you would go into your little world and day dream and if I was quiet enough you wouldn't even look up" Johnny explained.

In most of the photos, I was smiling mindlessly. It really did show that I was happy in life with Johnny before this whole court thing happened.

I finally turned to face the door way when I noticed a canvas sticking out behind the door sitting in a easel. I pulled the door away to reveal the true size of it and notice that it was me. It was a painting of me reading in the sun. I brought my hand up to my face completely taken back on what I was seeing.

"Johnny" I gasped

I could hear Johnny chuckle lightly behind me. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and kissed my head.

"You always are so hard on yourself. I wanted to create something that even you could see how beautiful you are." Johnny grabbed my hand and squeezed it.

I had no words. I was completely in shock and I couldn't stop looking at the painting. He put so much detail into it. My sunhat that I wore was exactly the same. I felt tears well up in my eyes. I couldn't believe he did this for me. After everything I said earlier I felt terrible.

"All this time you were working on this?" I asked still in awe.

"Mhmm" He hummed

I continued to stare at it not being able to take my eyes away from it. I turned to face Johnny not knowing what to say. I was entirely caught off guard.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" I gestured at the room

He took a deep inhale and picked up a paintbrush absentmindedly, messing with the hairs of it. He scrunched his mouth up to one side as his mind wandered.

"Um.." He begun, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

"Well, many people don't know this side of me. It's my safe place where I know I can come here and let my guard down completely" He continued to looked down at the paint brush.

"After everything we've been through, you deserve to see this side of me"

I felt horrible for everything I said. I should have just been open with him the whole time. We would have avoided this whole mess altogether.

I immediately went over to hug him feeling the weight of all the words I said earlier. I was ashamed to ever doubt Johnny. Especially in this period of time where he needs all the support he can get.

"I'm so sorry" I uttered regrettably.

"No, no love" I felt his arms engulf me

"This isn't your fault. It was stupid and selfish of me to just pull away from you all this time"

We stood there holding each other. I realised how much I missed him touching me and being so close to me.

I felt his finger graze the skin on my hip that was just under the hem of my shirt. My skin was sensitive to his delicate touch. After so much distance between us, my body felt at home in his arms.

"How about we make our usual midnight snack?" Johnny offered

I instantly beamed knowing I've missed us, just being us after so long.

"I would love that"

We made our way to the kitchen and we gathered all our usual comfort food such as ice cream, chips, peanut butter, whipped cream and cookies. I sat on the kitchen counter while Johnny stood between my legs and we fed each other like usual.

I fed him a cookie while he picked up the can of whipped cream and squirted some in this mouth with the cookie. I couldn't stop myself from laughing seeing his facial hair covering in splotches of cream.

"Mhmm?" Johnny grinned with a full mouth gesturing at the whip cream can in his hand wanting to offer me some.

I nodded while giggling. I opened my mouth wide and watch as he carefully aimed the cream into my mouth. The cream started building up fast to the point where I was shake my head telling him to stop.

I glanced over to see a cheeky smile on his face as he continued to squeeze the can. I pulled away and push his hand aside to have cream fly all over us as we laughed uncontrollable. Johnny put down the can and we looked at each other. Cream was everywhere, in our hair clothes and faces.

I got my finger and wiped some off his cheek popping the light fluffy substance in my mouth.

"I think you missed a spot" Johnny laughed glancing all around us to the mess.

He leaned in licking the cream off my face moving his way down my neck. Feeling his lips pressed against me made squeeze my thighs together involuntarily. A quiet moan escaped from my mouth as I felt his hot breath spread across my skin.

"I've missed you so much" I breathed feeling his hands travel up my thighs.

"I missed you too baby"

"Seeing you in your little suit for court makes my mind go places" Johnny hummed leaning into my ear.

"What places?"

I bring my hand down to his chest and wrapping my legs around his waist bringing him closer to me.

"Let's just say I've been distracted in court imagining all the ways I could take you while leaving everything on" He teased kissing my lips gently.

I felt his harden crotch against mine. I wiggles my hips wanting to tease him. His eyes were filled with irresistible desire. I wanted him just as much as he wanted me.

Our lips pressed together eagerly and I felt him deepen the kiss. His tongue moved against mine. I brought my hands to his shirt and fumbled with the buttons impatiently wanting to feel his skin against mine.

He grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and we broke our kiss for a moment while he pulled it over my head, throwing it on the kitchen floor.

"I've missed this body so much" Johnny held my waist kissing all the way from shoulders to the top of my breasts.

I closed my eyes and savored the feeling of his soft hands on my back. His warm lips pressing against sensitive spots on my body.

I opened my eyes to the sounds of objects hitting the floor. I looked over to see Johnny pushing the snacks off the kitchen counter.

"We can deal with that later" Johnny smirked

I laid my back across the cold marble countertop feeling goosebumps travel along my skin. Johnny kissed down my stomach 'til he got to my jeans where he undid the fastener and pulled them down. I raised my hips wanting them off me as fast as possible.

I gazed down to see him kissing my upper thighs making his way slowly to my underwear. My core was pulsing. My hands went to his hair.

"Please Johnny, you're killing me here" I whined easing my hips up trying to get him closer.

"Mhmm, what do you want love?" He teased pulling away slightly from my covered pussy.

"I want you to eat my out Johnny" I whimpered

"I think someone needs to say please" He looked up with his deep brown sexy eyes.

"Please, can you eat me out?" I was begging at this point.

"With pleasure" Johnny purred with his soft velvet voice.

Masterlist for other fics

[fckwritersblock]

Protection Forever - William Lennox

Lennox x Reader

Description: Running into an old flame at the worst possible time.

Warning: nah. Bad writing? Kinda. Unedited because I was excited. I’ll not when it’s been fixed. Somethings may not be fully aligned with the movie but I tried 😩

Word count: 2500+

Dedicated to @merakiaes hey fren!

All gifs from @meragifs too!

You were an EMT.

The two of you pulled up to meet with the other Autobots, you exiting the vehicle before he transformed. You were in awe as he and the rest of the cars all changed.

The biggest one, their leader, gave a rundown of everything that was happening once he confirmed Sam’s identity. This was just a recap for you as Ratchet had already explained. The teenage boy just stood there stuttering not really knowing how to process everything and you frowned again. That was when you really took notice of two teens just standing there. Having known what was expected of Sam Witwicky you frowned slightly.

“I don’t know about this Ratchet, he’s just kid.” You commented to the alien you had formed a quick bond with.

“And who might you be?” The one called Optimus inquired.

You gave him your name before the other yellow autobot, who you’d later learned was Bumble Bee, uttered something through his radio. It was hard for you to hear but the other robots seemed to be use to it as Ratchet responded immediately.

“The human. I like her.” Ratchet sounding irritated.

Bumblebee made another comment and right before Ratchet could respond one of the others chimed in.

“Wait why do they get humans?” Jazz asked incredulously. “I want one too!”

“Enough! Humans are not pets.” The one call Optimus Prime stated sternly, clearly tired of their bickering. You held your laugh, highly amused.

They were like siblings. A family.

“Exactly I’m just here to help and be a better tour guide than these kids can be.” You confirmed practically forcing your services on them. “Besides they need adult supervision. From the looks of it, you all do.” You grinned at everyone around you. Optimus gave a nod, agreeing.

“She stays. Let’s move.”

In that short amount of time things moved rather quickly. You watched the Autobots accidentally destroy Sam’s backyard when attempting to retrieve the glasses, you were all arrested, you escaped thanks to the Autobots, only to be arrested again.

Fail.

Finally you ended it some secret base. How get you weren’t alone. The government had apparently been on a roll with kidnapping civilians who “knew too much “.

Things weren’t going great but quickly went left when the Decepticons, the Autobot rivals, came to retrieve Megatron.

A war from another planet had officially made Earth its battleground.

You were nervous, trying to figure out how to calm everything down before things started to escalate. Nobody was going to get anywhere with all the bickering. That’s when you saw him.

It had been what? Two years?

Still, without even knowing it, without even knowing you were present, he was still able to make your heart be slow and fast at the same time. The army had aged him, but for the better making him all the more attractive but you couldn’t focus on that right now. Especially when you heard:

“The cryogenic system is failing! We're losing NBE One!”

All the soldiers begin to pack everything that they could to prepare in a fight the way they always did. It was an mirable the way Linux game orders in his men took them without a second thought. The trust there.

“That’s good. Get all the ammo you got.”

“Everything you can carry. Bring it.”

Tearing your eyes away from your former lover you grab Sam.

“Come on, we need Bee.” You reminded him, nodding in Simmons direction

“You got to take me to my car.” Sam said, then repeated when he was ignored. “You have to take me to my car. He’s gonna know what to do with the Cube.”

“Your car? It's confiscated.”

“Then unconfiscate it.” You stared blankly.

“We do not know what will happen if we let it near this thing! -“

“You don't know.”

“Maybe you know, but I don't know.”

You rolled your eyes at the insufferable mans rambling.

This was really was more about ego who was in control more than anything. The guy running the ship, clearly was on a power trip. Unfortunately for him he was facing off against soldiers . The Captain who’s eyes you could feel staring at the side of your face.

A Captain and his soldiers. Ones that really dont like to lose and take serving their country seriously.

The guy who arrested you earlier continue to argue with Sam about getting him back to bumblebee when Lennox finally pulled out his gun sick of the back-and-forth.

“Take him to his car!”

As soon as he did so all hell broke loose and everyone from both parties pulled out a weapon.

“Drop it!”

It wasn’t until One of the sector seven agents pointed a gun at the back of Will’s head that you disable to another agent and took his gun and pointed it directly and held it directly at the one pointing the gun at your ex.

“I really wouldn’t.” You warned.

You were no soldier, but Will have taught you plenty before you broke up. So did your brother, before he passed away. He actually served alongside Will but died in combat. Biking. That’s part of why you were so hurt when Will re-enlisted. When he got promoted to Captain and chose the army over you. You were terrified of losing him the way you lost your brother. The break up wasn’t that messy but you both said things you didn’t mean. In attempts to mask your own pain and hurt one another.

You know. Hurt people, hurt people.

It’s still came to no surprise that you put a bullet in someone to protect him. Together or not you’d never let anything happen to him.

“I'm ordering you under S-Seven executive jurisdiction-“ Simmons ranted.

“S-Seven don't exist.” You interjected, earning a quick appreciative glance from Will.

“Right. And we don’t take orders from people that don’t exist.”

“I’m gonna count to 5. Okay-“ Simmons attempted to threat yet again.

“Well, I’m gonna count to three.” Will deadpanned.

You knew that look. God did you know that look and it was so wrong that you were so turned on.

Finally the Secretary of defense interfered telling Simmons to do what was being asked of him. Everyone relaxed slight, weapons lowering.

“Y/n,”

“Captain.”

The Captain and couldn’t help but watch you how do you get up and prepare to go.

“So that’s her huh?” Epps commented as Will watched you run off with Sam.

“Yeah..” Will answered, mind racing.

While he knew he’d eventually see you again, he didn’t think it would be like this. You looked breath taking.

“Damn. Shorty had your back that entire time.”

“Gear up,”

“What I’m just saying I thought she was gonna put a cap in his.” Epps shouted after his Captain receiving no response.

Will knew you had his back, you always would, the same way he would always have yours. He thought of you often, the break up between two inescapable, never feeling like he did the right thing. You were always not too far from the front of his mind. Him wondering how you were doing. If you were happy. If you found somebody else. There was no doubt he regretted what had transpired between the two of you. It was his fault. He knew that. You knew that. He had ample opportunity to fight for you and he didn’t. When he was promoted Captain he felt he had to choose between you and the army. He didn’t choose you the way he should’ve. In reality he could’ve had both. However hr so caught up proven himself to his deadbeat dad that he possibly let the best thing that ever happened to him go.

Not to mention trying to atone for your brothers death. It wasn’t his fault, but he still couldn’t shake it. So without talking to you he reenlisted. Needless to say where that got him.

Now hear the both of you were in the middle of an alien war. Yeah. This is the last place he thought he’d see you.

You were numb. The battle on the highway enough to freak you out. For mommy, just a moment you thought this might be a dream but no. This is all very real. One minute you guys were just entering the city trying to lay low, next thing you know - BOOM! The explosion knocked all of you over, injuring some, killing a few. Bumblebee’s legs were partially blown off.

Getting up off the pavement you waited for the ringing in your ear to subside as you stood up, trying to study yourself when you felt a pair of arms hold you still.

You knew it was Will just by the way he touched you, you blinked hard trying not to go down memory lane.

“Are you okay?” The concern in his voice was enough to make your heart skip a bear.

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly. “Yeah I’m fine.”

Slowly you removed yourself from his grip and went to check on Sam and Mikaela. Ratchet on the other hand -

“Hmm. His pheromone levels are-“ you quickly turned on him and glared.

“Ratchet I’ll turn you into a can opener if you don’t shut the hell up.”

The robot nearly held his hands up in the surrendering position as he followed you. Will had arranged an aircraft to pick up Sam and the cube while everyone else defended themselves against the deceptive cons in a hurry to get the cube far far away before Megatron arrived. Sam was in a panic and so Michaela, you could see Will’s short fuse getting ready to exploded. It was then you decided to be an escort.

“Sam, you can’t do this alone.” Michaela fussed.

“He won’t be alone.” You commented, causing all parties involved to look at you.

“I’m going with you.” You declared.

“No.” Will didn’t even hesitated as he stepped closer to you.

“Captain Lennox-“

“No!” You grabbed him by the front of his beer and pushed him back.

“Do you see what going on out there?!” You continued to hold on to him and you yelled at him over there chose. “We’re at a war. One we are extremely ill prepared for. So get your shit together! Sam is my responsibility. I have to get this kid to safety.”

This time your hands slid up the side of his face forcing him to look at you.

“Y/n..” he breathed out leaning down toward you, and for the first time during all this madness you could visibly see he was afraid.

“I’ll be back, Will.” You assured him, briefly resting your forehead against his.

Gathering himself he pulled away, looking toward Sam then back at you.

“Go. Go!”

And then we were running.. With nothing but an M16 strapped to your back and the pistol in your hand, you ran faster than you ever have before.

The four of you were under attack once more, you and Sam doing what you had to, to avoid getting snatched up as a fight Ironhide and Ratchet defended you. Unfortunately you were too close to one of the cars that went up in flames and you were thrown into another car from the blast.

“Y/n!” You could feel the blood on your forehead as you slowly pushed yourself up. As you tried to stand you immediately stopped feeling the pain in your thigh. Looking down could see the damage that had been done. The blood surrounding the afflicted area.

“Wha- what, what do i do?!” Sam asked frantically once he took notice of your injury.

“You gotta keep going Sam. I’ll be fine.”

He stood fo his feet, unsure of what to do. When Ironhide told him the same thing.

“Go!” You screamed once more.

Sam left and continued to run without you as you, as quickly as possible, as you tore your focus away from him to pull the shard of glass in your leg out. Ripping a piece of your shirt off you tightly tied it around your thigh in order to stop the bleeding. There was no point in going forward now but the return back to everyone else and help them fight.

You just had to avoid getting killed in the process.

You seen a car steering wheel, a Mountain Dew vending machine and and Xbox all turn into one of those freaky ass robots right before your eyes. All of which you helped others fight off. It was so surreal. In fact, if it wasn’t for the constant ringing in your ear from all the explosions you definitely think you were dreaming. You almost made it back to Lennox and his men when another Decepticon stood between between you and your destinations. They were definitely taking a beating. You saw Epps shooting a green laser indicating the robot that doubled as a helicopter wasn’t a friendly and decided to do what you could to keep the Decepticon from getting any closer to them and hurting any more civilians. In an attempt to draw it away from everyone else, you begin to fire your weapon giving it everything you had.

Unfortunately, the side effective taking its attention off the others meant putting the attention on you.

You ran trying to duck and dodge a bullets now directed your way.

But Will. Will’s heart dropped. Seeing you there defending yourself alone. His pause was brief, the air forces plan already in motion, before he started the motorcycle and was speeding in your direction.

“William!” You screamed for him fearfully as he drove straight toward the robot.

The only thing you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You almost couldn’t breathe, you don’t remember the last time you ever felt so scared in your life. But it wasn’t your life you feared for was it?

He rushed forward and slid under the robot continuing to firing the launcher. All you could do was watch as he drove toward you. Toward the danger your mind wondering if he did that on a regular basis. Was this the life of a soldier? What he went through day after day when he was deployed?

Standing up he only spared the parts of the dismembered robot a glance before shouting and turning looking for you. In a matter of seconds he was standing directly in front of you and pulling you into his arms.

Relief.

There was nothing like physically being about to touch someone, hold someone to really know they were okay.

“So…” you began, suddenly feeling nervous. “...That was hot-“

Before you were able to get another word in, he captured your lips with his kissing you roughly and bringing you closer, hands on the small of your back. You couldn’t help it kiss him back just as fiercely put in every emotion you had into that kiss.

Every ounce of passion he had in body, put into this kiss, your lips just as soft, kiss just as pure as he remembered. When you kissed, he knew he was a goner and could never let you go again.

It has been two years since the last time you guys have been this close. This intimate. Reconnected. The feeling it gave you, the indescribable feeling, was one neither one of you ever wanted to forgo again. Pulling back slowly, you both had smiles on your faces, Will pulling you closer to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“Excuse me,” Epps interrupted.

The both of you turning your attention on him.

“As cute as this shit is it’s highly inappropriate in the middle of the battle. I’m just saying we are trying to stay alive and shit.”

———————————————

Oh my fu- I don’t even know what this isssss

Couldn’t tell you what my original ideas was or nothing. I believed this was going to short-

I enjoyed writing it though! Shoutout again to @merakiaes for being on this lennox train with me lol

I’m just....I’m just gonna leave this mess here.

Bye

- Mo

—————————-

Tags: @merakiaes @lilythemadqueen

[tobioismylove]

Like the Winter

pairings: Atsumu x reader (f)

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: a tiny bit of swear words, heart break

note: I don't know if you can consider this as angst :') I'm not good at writing angst. So if there's anything to improve, please do tell me.

Loving Atsumu was no different than loving the winter season.

You get all excited when the first snow of the year starts to fall. At first, it's beautiful. The way the snowflakes rests on your stretched out palm, and the way the snow decorates the green trees is beautiful.

But eventually, the snow covers up the whole road, the slippery road causes many accidents and the coldness is just too much to bear.

At that moment, when you want the winter to end, spring will await you with open arms. It's willing to pour all its petals on you and comfort you.

You were excited for winter.

"I'll be going now!" You informed your mother before walking out of the house and plucking in your earphones.

"–and there is a chance that there will be snowfall tonight in Hyōgo Prefecture. That's it for today's weather forecast, now let's enjoy 'My Boo' by Touyama Mirei."

Arriving at the bus stop, you looked up at the sky with a small smile stretched on your lips. "It's finally gonna snow tonight."

You loved winter.

"Mornin'." Greeted you the blondie as he plopped down on his seat in front of yours. "Ya look extra happy today." He pointed out, shoving his hands into the pockets of his brown blazer for some warmth.

"The forecast said it might snow tonight. I'm excited." You rested your chin on your palm, turning to look out the window. "Why do ya love winter so much? It's just cold and ruins our skin." He huffs, joining you on looking out the window as you shrug your shoulders. "Maybe I just like the coldness."

"Masochist." You laughed, turning to look at him who now had his head leaned against the window with his eyes closed.

Atsumu was the first friend you made when you transferred here to Inarizaki High School. Yes, he was a flirt and a playboy, but he was also a very good friend. Showing you around the school, inviting you to join for lunch with him and his friends, and assisting you with the school clubs.

"You should sign up for the manager role in the boy's volleyball club." Said Atsumu, leaning his back against the wall of the hallways. "Yeah, it'd be nice to have you there." Osamu added as you shrugged in return. "I don't know if I'll manage to fulfill that role."

"Well, even if you can't fulfill the role, you're beautiful so it makes up for it." Blood rushes up to your cheeks and you hit his arm, trying to hide your flustered face from the three of them. "Shut up."

"You don't have to worry too much. Once you try it out, you'll get the hang of it." Rintarou reassured, giving a light pat on your shoulder. "Okay, I'll try it out."

And that's how the volleyball team became the second family for you. Everyone was extremely nice to you, making it easier for you to carry your role as their manager.

"These twins take forever to change their clothes, I swear." You chuckled, sitting down on the floor after finishing picking up all the balls with the help of Rintarou. "Thank you for helping." He gives you a nod with a small smile as a 'you're welcome'.

"Ya better not forget to buy me pudding!" That was Osamu's voice ringing from the changing room before the door bursts open and the twins walk out. "What's with the pudding?" Rintarou questioned, only to get dragged out of the gym by Osamu. "What was that about?" You asked, blinking up at Atsumu who approached you. "It's nothin'. Let's go." He offers you his hand, which you gladly took to stand up from the ground. Turning off the lights, both of you walked out of the gym after making sure to lock it.

As both of you walked down the street side by side, you wondered why Osamu and Rintarou had walked off before the both of you. But you just shrugged off the thoughts, feeling absolutely happy to be spending time with him alone.

"Oh." You stopped on your tracks, looking up at the sky with a wide smile. "It's snowing." You whispered, stretching out your hand and watching as the tiny snowflakes landed on your palm. "Ya look so happy." You turned your head to look at him, the wide smile still on your face. "I am happy. Even more happy that you're here with me, Tsum." You admitted, dropping down your gaze to the ground. "Me too."

Placing his fingers under your chin, he raises your head and leans closer. "I'm happy to be with ya." He whispered before closing the distance between the two of you, his lips pressed against yours.

And on the first snowfall of the year, your beloved kissed you for the first time. Despite the cold weather, your heart was warm, skin burning at the feeling of his lips on yours.

There were consequences for loving winter.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" You nibbled on your lower lip, repeating Rintarou's question in your head. "Well, I love him and I wanna give it a try. Give us a try." He silently nodded, picking up the last ball from the floor. "I'm sorry, it's just I'm worried 'cause I know how Atsumu is." You give him a genuine smile. "It's fine, Rin. I understand. Thank you for worrying." He pulls you in for a side hug, which you returned with a pat on his back. You loved winter so you simply pushed the consequences to the back of your mind.

Winter was beautiful.

"Yer fuckin' kidding me." You laughed, receiving the popsicle from the ice cream vendor before bringing it closer to your boyfriend's lips. "Come on, babe. Try it." You urged as he just scoffs in return. "This is a torture." Despite his complaints, he still takes a bite of it before immediately starting to blow out air from his lips.

"Who the fuck eats ice cream on winter?!" You laughed, patting his shoulder. "Your girlfriend does." He rolls his eyes, pulling up his scarf up until his nose as he starts walking ahead of you. "Yer a masochist, baby. I swear." You giggled, catching up to him and intertwining your fingers with his. "You love this masochist." He smiles, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "I sure do."

"All these lights are absolutely beautiful." You stated, looking up at the lights on the trees in awe. "Ya look like ya have never encountered the winter season before." He chuckled, booping your nose. "I think I might like winter too, ya know?" You grinned, tossing the popsicle's stick into a trash can. "As you should. Now come on, I'm hungry."

But the snow was suffocating.

"Y/N, I seriously don't understand why ya even worryin'." Your boyfriend said with a sigh escaping his lips. "I don't know, Tsum. Maybe if you could stop your fangirls from being all over you, then I wouldn't have to worry."

"Baby, I love ya and only ya. So stop stressin' yourself with these dumb things." He takes your hand in his, placing gentle kisses on your knuckles. "I love you too, babe." He smiles, giving your lips a quick peck. "Of course ya do."

His words were just like the snow. Beautiful yet cold and held no sign of comfort. But you loved snow, so you didn't mind. No matter how many times the coldness enveloped you, you'd still continue to love it.

Or so you thought.

"I love ya, Y/N. Love ya so much." He whispers into your ears, fingers intertwined together. "You do?" He kisses along your jawline, chest pressed against yours. "Of course." He claimed he loved you so much that night, both of you getting lost in each other's touch and providing warmth for one another.

He was making love to you on your bed, whispering sweet nothings in your ears and promising that you were the only one for him.

So why did he leave?

Why did he leave your house at God knows what time, leaving the other side of your bed cold and empty.

"I don't...I don't love ya anymore." He was looking down at the ground, blonde bangs covering his eyes. "You said you loved me last night." He took a deep breath before raising his head, but his eyes never met yours. "Ya know I don't just settle for one girl." Tears stained your cheeks, and you didn't bother to wipe them off. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Ya were a great friend to me. I just... I can't. I'm sorry." And so he walks away, leaving you all alone at the staircase in coldness.

If he loved you, why'd he break your heart? If he loved you, why'd he walk away, leaving his friend who happened to overhear the conversation to come and envelop you in a hug?

"Rin.." He wraps his arms around you, making you rest your head on his chest. "Cry it all out, Y/N." Clutching his blazer tightly, you cried out your heart to him. "It's gonna be fine."

And there it was, the spring that awaited you with opened arms.

>sequel

[blooming-violets]

Hi, my angst queen. I'm sorry it took me so long to reblog this chapter. I am a turd but I've had these quotes saved on phone since I first read i and now I feel ready to talk about them. I was emotionally damaged.

1: Peter is such a broken man. I know that's obvious but this chapter really highlighted it nicely. The pain he feels for losing Gwen is still so raw. A wound that will never fully heal. And, yet, his love for Gwen doesn't dampen his love for Honey. Even being in an au story, it still has so much of the heart of tasm Peter for me. I always love when fics bring in Gwen and Peter's devotion to her because I don't think it should be something that's erased. It can't be erased. Even in an au. He can be forever scarred by her death, have a deep love for her forever, and still have just as a devoted love for someone else.

The scene of Gwen telling him it's okay to rest now and giving him the choice to live or die brings tears to my eyes (I cried about four different times in this chapter so thanks for that). He could let himself pass on if he wanted to. He could stay with Gwen where ever that otherworldly limbo space is. But he choses Honey. It's almost like he's saying his final goodbye to his old love. He's letting her go. He's finally allowing himself to start to close the door on that heartbreaking chapter of his life. Waking up is going to cause so much pain but all that pain will be worth it if he can spent another second with Honey, keep her safe, and finish what he started. "It breaks his heart and makes him whole." I'm not crying, you are.

2: Eddie and Miles. I love that Eddie calls out exactly what Miles is. A child. A sixteen year old child. No one else really seems to be grasping that concept or doing much about it. I'm sure they've vaguely tried but probably not very hard. I bet a lot of it stems from the fact that most of them probs got into the line of throwing yourself into danger at a young age too. But then there's Eddie. Who's angry that Miles is even here. He seems to be the most reasonable out of everyone. The voice of reason that no one listens to. That's how I view Eddie.

"Some people only know how to love by how much they suffer." Eddie: The Unwanted Therapist of the Group. This line stood out to me. I reread it about ten times. I stayed on it. I savored it. I let it sink into my skin. It rang far too true and too close to home for my liking. I could go to therapy for years to get this kind of clarity and then here's Liz and Eddie, slapping me in the face with some hard truths. I don't really know what else I want to say about that line but it now lives in my heart. I like it. That's all.

AND THEN Miles cries after their argument/conversation/hard truths because he's a young boy who just wants to please the people he looks up to. And cue the second time tears blurred my vision. I get way to invested into characterization and their motivations for everything and reasons behind every single little action and I get far too connected to them and pour my heart and soul into them and then I destroy myself as I live through them. Always have been a whore for good character development and always will be.

3: Peter and Honey. "When it was too quiet, she was left with nothing but the parroting mockery of her inner dialogue." I'm going to be hipster for a second so bear with me. Back in 2013 when Twenty One Pilots released their Vessel album, before they got super mainstream, the first time I ever heard the song Car Radio, it felt like someone was putting my mental illness into words I could fully relate to. Tyler's car radio is stolen and now he is forced to sit in silence as he drives with only his thoughts for company and his thoughts want to lead him to committing suicide. There is something so connecting to people who share mental health issues with each other. I could never meet a person but they could relate to me in a way that no one in my personal circle could. Sitting in silence when you're someone with trauma is the equivalent to someone screaming horrible profanities at you until you can't take it anymore. Honey is in that same boat. Therefore, I feel like I can see her, peering inside of her brain, to understand every single action that she has taken up to this point. i know I'm speaking about a fiction character but I think that's what good literature should make you do. I want to go back and trace every single step, every tiny action, every word said and every word unsaid to be able to form a complete picture of a character. That's my favorite thing to do. It's why I loved my english classes so much. Let me take an imaginary person and make them real inside my head. Let me bring them to life with through your writing. I don't just want to read a story, I want to experience it fully and completely. I want to live inside of it. I want my life to disappear as I read your beautifully crafted words.

I'm skipping around a little bit, this happens a bit later but ties in: Silence—always jabbering, when will you ever shut up?—it was deafening. Driving her insane.

I think this is the first time in a while that we, as the audience, have heard that side of Honey's shameful voice breaking through her thoughts. It used to happen all the time earlier on. Then it dulled down for a bit. But now it's back. The guilt is too strong. Her negative thoughts are winning. That demeaning voice in her head is back with vengeance. She's falling back into her old ways and I wanted to point that out because I'm going to bring it up later with Miguel but it also fit in nicely with the "silence is deafening" part I was just talking about.

“There wasn’t anywhere else I wanted to be.” 

The truth sounded strange coming from her lips, shamefully. As she met Peter’s eyes, he watched her sullenly as if he were thinking the same thing.

I really like the use of the word "sullenly" here. It's not a joyous reunion. Sure, he came back from the dead for her. She's happy he's alive. They're both silently agreeing that this is where they want to be. But it's not happy. There's still too much guilt. I'm sure when Peter looks at her right now, he's only seeing the flashback of her holding a gun to her head. He's realizing the extent of her trauma. He's realizing exactly what he missed and how badly he fucked up by missing the signs. He'll blame himself for that because, like Eddie said, the dude like to suffer for those he loves. They are there with each other, where they want to be, but there is a heavy air of morose still lingering between them. Things that need to be talked out but can't yet. A silent weight hanging over them.

Peter has a narcissistic side to him. Not in the typical way that he's obsessed with himself and thinks he's better than everyone but that he thinks everything is his fault. Idk if calling that narcissistic is the right word but it's the only one I could think of right now so I'm going with it. "Honey was running from me" "I'm the bad guy" "She's scared of me" "Me, me, me, me, me" He's too obsessed with making himself suffer that he failed to see past that. It once again ties into what therapist Eddie said. Woe is me. I need to suffer. I don't deserve love. Me, Me, Me, Me, everything is about me and how badly I hurt. Not once thinking that maybe Honey has actual, deeper, scarier problems than himself. So much so that he knew John was involved with her in some way and he still brought him into his home. (im waiting for you to reply to this, i dont remember if this is this is true or not but if its not then ignore this yelling).

“Makes sense—why you never trusted me.” The corners of his mouth twisted downward as his eyes went glossy. Heartbreak flayed his voice. “He’s what you see when you look at me.” 

This is what I mean but his narcissism. He's still not really fully thinking about Honey and the trauma she went through but instead throwing himself a pity party. It makes her have to grovel and beg that it's not true when she really shouldn't have to. I think it's a nice touch because this relationship has always had a toxic air to it (that's an understatement lol) but that's what makes it real to me. If you were writing about the perfect, ideal couple without any issues then it would be boring af. Real life couples have toxic traits and issues that need to be worked on. They have mental illness and baggage. They aren't perfect. They fuck up and make mistakes, big and small. It's all about deciding what is worth sticking around for and what is working changing. Peter's narcissism is not the same as John's (once again, still don't know if I'm even using that word correctly). Peter's can be corrected and changed over time. He can heal and grow and learn. John can not. That right there lies in one of the biggest differences between the two. One of them is worthy of change and willing to do so and the other couldn't even comprehend the idea change if he wanted to. They are not the same.

Love, ya dummy.

And he isn't. Peter isn't like anyone else. Good or bad. He's an enigma. And so is she, in a way. They both hide themselves close to their heart. They both put on faces for the world to see them a certain way. They both have cold darkness inside of them and burning light. They are two halves a whole.

4: Miguel's questioning. This is the part that really fucked me up the first time I read it but that was my own issues coming into play. I really lived through Honey too closely for this that I had to take a step back and get control over myself. Sometimes I attach a little too deep to characters I love and I struggle to separate them from myself. I feel when they do and replace my feelings with theirs. It's a weird dissociation thing I've been doing since I was a kid and I'm working on it in therapy okay. ANYWAY this hurt me too much.

To me, Honey is super fragile right now. She was literally just about to kill herself a couple hours ago. Her bad thoughts are bad (see back to the negative thinking during the silence points). Her guilt is too strong. In Miguel's eyes, he sees this as her fault. In Honey's eyes right now, she sees this as her fault. She is not blameless but she is a pawn in a bigger game. Her entire life she has been used by people "stronger" than her. It started with her mother, moved onto John, then ended with Peter (who also used her as a pawn at times). Manipulated, used, discarded, abused, beaten, torn down. That's what Honey has been used to her entire life.

She is a rat but a rat who has known nothing but abuse and violence Dogs who are bread from puppies to do nothing but fight are going to continuing fighting because that's the only way of survival they know. Sorry to compare you to a dog, Honey, ily. Her survival mode is all she knows. Now that any little shred of safety net has been snatched from her, she is spiraling deeper into the darker, guilty parts of her mind.

And Miguel only helps to push her there. I know he's thinking of the safety of the people in his group. I understand exactly his side and his point and where he is coming from. But it hurts my heart in a way that I can't properly describe.

Mercilessly, he drove right through whatever shield may have existed. “You stabbed us in the back!” he accused, pointing his finger at her. “You were offered multiple chances to come clean, but you refused, and people died. You could’ve done the right thing, but you didn’t. So I’m sorry if I’m not as sensitive to your predicament.”

Like "hey let's push the suicidal girl deeper into the darkness because I'm pissed off" and it makes me sad and if Peter was fully with it, I think Miguel would have been in trouble. "Not as sensitive to your predicament" aka "I don't give a shit that you were so physically and mentally abused and raped and broken by an evil, psychotic man because you tattled on us boohoo"

I wanna scream at him that you're all a bunch of mobsters. Everyone is gonna stab you in the back. You think those random ass guards you employ are gonna be loyal to ya?? (okay I have the foresight of the future but still) This shit is gonna happen! You're dirty, scheming mobsters. This is the life ya chose. Fucking get over it and stop whining lol She's just a random ass woman from a coffee shop. She is not your enemy.

I think why it upset me so much is because if I was Honey, that would have just pushed me back into my suicidal thoughts so hard and I get so protective over that.

And then there's Felicia with the voice of reason.

Felicia fixed sorrowful eyes on her. “Hobie’s death wasn’t on you,” she softly explained. “Between Fisk and the Feds, there are some hefty prices on our heads. Money like that makes loyalty difficult. That night, it didn’t matter what info you had. It was one of our guys that helped pull the trigger. Most of the time, we’re pretty good at picking out the bad apples. Not always.”

Her and Eddie are the real heroes of this story. They are mobsters. Death and back stabbing is the life they chose. It's part of the game. It's not the fault of an abused woman who was dragged into this without her consent.

God, I would literally go to war for Honey jfc I gotta calm down.

5. The battle. Peter waking up from a half dead state to go into full protection mode mmm good shit. Reminds of Joel and Ellie in ep6 of The Last of the Us. "Hello, yes, I am on death's door and I can not move or form coherent thoughts.....wait....the one things I give a shit about is in danger?? Never mind I'm up and ready to murder the entire world!"

I like that Honey's dissociation comes into play multiple times throughout this story. It's so on point for people with trauma. Scary shit happening? Nope. Go to a different place and now everything is okay and nothing is scary and I feel nothing.

There's this wonderful moment where the chaos is going on and raging around them but Peter and Honey are locked in this embrace. A protective bubble formed around them. Reminds me of this picture a lil bit.

The second Peter leaves her, Eddie is right there to take over. Or to try to, at least. It's his voice that pulls her back away from Peter's disappearance. Their friendship is pure and good and you're going to destroy me but we aren't there yet so let's enjoy and appreciate alive Eddie while we still can.

Fucking Helen, jfc.

Honey's protectiveness over Miles. Once again, he's just a kid in the middle of a war. It's sad and heartbreaking.

On a different note, you are so good at writing action where there is nothing but pure chaos going on in every which direction. I don't think anything will ever beat the tunnel scene in heat of the moment but this is a close second.

Honey throwing her shoe to confuse/distract a man about to kill Johnny is the most hilariously beautiful moment. A perfect blend of comedic tension to break through the horrors.

“Now it’s them or him,” Jess declared firmly, jerking her forehead towards Johnny. “You choose.”

Okay, this, mixed with what we know about chapter 20...*chefs kiss* I don't know if this was intention or a happy accident but yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Good good. I like.

Ah, yes, here comes my favorite part. You scalp that asshole, baby, you're doing so good. Mama loves you. Such a good boy.

The monster turned human again with a single glance at the one he loves. The beauty and the beast. My favorite trope. Honey is the one who humanizes him. Honey is his heart and his soul. She is his guiding light, his north star, the one he looks too to keep him grounded. And she's not afraid. She loves him. All of him. Both the man and the monster. The Jekyll and the Hyde. He is hers to keep. Ya I'm crying again whatever

"Are you hurt?" "I lost my shoe." I know it's the pure shock talking but holy shit I love her.

Johnny "I saw it over there...I'm okay too...thanks for asking" Storm.

6. Eddie. I don't have much to say. There's not much to be said. His death saved the kid. He sacrificed himself for someone who was too young to be there. I hope Mile's doesn't let that sacrifice go to waste. I hope he can see exactly what it is he is in and what this life leads to. Eddie is the hero. He is the heart. The voice of reason. The one people overlook. He's a loyal friend. He's a good man and I hope he gets to finally rest in peace.

Look, I wrote you a novel and I'm not rereading it bc it's so long and I have a horrible tendency to forget words when I get too excited and type too fast so I apologize if some of this is completely unreadable but I think you're great and that's all.

sugar and vice, pt. 19 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: your sins will find you, eventually.

words: 10.3 k

chapter warning: heavy chapter warnings for dire!whumpy situations, death, g0re, g!uns, vi0lence!

series warnings: mob-typical bang bang violence, wh-mp. hurt/comfort. s-xu-l situations. spousal ab-se. family trauma. dr-g use. coercion. manipulation. kidnapping. gore. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. ‘only ten one bed oops’ trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. extremely toxic relationships.

This version of TASM Peter is not canon. The relationships and characters here are not healthy.

Don't date a mob boss.™️

18+ You’re responsible for your own media consumption, but if you don't remember anyone having to figure out who else was on the landline so you could use the phone, then have you really lived? maybe wait on this one.

Back to Part 18.

Part 19

“Peter, wake up.”

The voice he could hear wasn’t his own. It was soft. Feminine. Gentle, like being awoken from a dream. He was comfortable wherever he was. He didn’t want to wake up.

“Peter, wake up,” the voice implored.

The sound of it made his heart ache. How could such a comforting sound cause him so much pain? ‘Bittersweet’ wasn’t the right expression. ‘Blissful agony’ was more accurate.

“Peter,” he heard again, the tones of the gentle voice pulling him from a dreamless slumber. Then, just like a dream, the voice faded into the abyss with a whisper. 

“Hold on...”

Heaven, he thought. He was in Heaven.

The sound of her voice made him want to fall down and worship. Made him want to die. 

“Gwen...” he mumbled—perhaps only in his own mind. He couldn’t move his lips. Couldn’t feel anything anymore. 

What a blessed relief.

His heart throbbed as he felt himself flying. He wasn’t sure if he was sinking or soaring, but it was all so fast. All out of his control.

“You can let go now.”

“Grab ‘em!”

Gwen?

“Get ‘em up on the gurney!”

“It’s time, Peter. Time to go home.”

What do you mean by ‘home’? You’re my home. You’re my path.

“C’mon, Pete, don’t you fuckin’ do this—”

“Is he breathing?”

“I can’t find a pulse. I need the paddles.”

“Jesus Christ, Pete...”

“It’s okay, Peter. You can rest now.”

“Goddamnit—wake up, man.”

“CHARGING. STAND CLEAR.”

“Clear!”

A stab to his chest. A bite to the back of his neck.

“Hit ‘em again—clear!”

His whole body jolts. He’s sticking to the ceiling of a subway car.

“You have a choice, Peter. You don’t have to go back there.”

I want to stay with you, Gwen. I don’t wanna leave.

“Clear!” 

His skin is on fire. Electricity ravages every muscle in his body. It sears his flesh and scrambles his brain. And all he can see is a pair of sparkling eyes.

Her eyes.

“Stay with me, Peter.”

“Pete, stay with us!”

“We can be together, finally. Like we were meant to be. They can go on without you.”

Her eyes. Beautiful, glittering eyes, full of warmth and sunlight. Sweet. Eyes like Honey.

“Goddamn it!” —“Again!” —“C’mon, Spidey!”—“Clear!”

The web catches Gwen by the chest, but it’s too late. It was always too late.

“Peter, please. Please. You can’t do this. You can’t do this right now.”

There is rapid whispering—murmuring, like a desperate prayer. But it’s not Gwen’s voice that he hears. It’s a voice that makes his chest ache just as much.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about everything.”

“You need to wake up, Peter.”

“Please, baby, please wake up. I’m so sorry. Just please stay with me.”

I can’t. I can’t go with you, Gwen.

“Peter, don’t do this.”

“Please just come back—”

“Why would you want to go back?”

“I need you... I need you to wake up.”

She needs me. Miles needs me. My family — my family needs me. I need to be with them. 

A pair of green eyes are staring at him, but not in anger. Instead, there’s understanding. There’s compassion. There’s a hint of pride within the emerald hues.

“Peter, please, I’m sorry. Please come back to me.”

I need them. I need to make this right.

From her cloud in Heaven, she smiles at him. It breaks his heart and makes him whole.

“Clear!”

The next jolt racks his brain and yanks his consciousness from the abyss. He’s reborn again, blood-covered, gasping, and sputtering on a gurney surrounded by worried faces. Every muscle in his body spasms. His heart groans as it flutters back to life. Air slices through his lungs like razor blades. He coughs and shudders, shrinking away from the harsh light of the living.

“Thank fuck!” he hears a hiss from next to him. It’s Eddie. How did Eddie get here?

He pried his eyes open, pupils adjusting to the light. 

Eddie was looking down at him, hazel-gray eyes full of joyful tears. “Don’t you ever do that again, you crazy bastard,” he chuckled. Two giant hands wrapped around Peter’s face as he embraced him lovingly.

Peter’s focus shifted as more faces came into view. 

Helen Cho stood above him as she worked the pump of a blood pressure device cuffed around his bicep. She paused only briefly to wipe sweat from her brow. Miguel leaned back against a wall with eyes closed and face pale as if he was moments from throwing up. Felicia leaned over him, glaring at him with relief and fury. He couldn’t tell if the smirk that appeared was from the joy of his survival or glee from plotting his future demise. Each of them looked like they had run a marathon. 

Peter’s left hand suddenly felt warm. His eyes shifted in its direction, and he followed the small hand barely covering his own. 

There she is, he thought. The eyes that brought him back from the dead.

His Honey.

The kind eyes of the woman he fell in love with—against all odds, toppling all of his defenses—were fixed on him. They shimmered with tears as she struggled to keep a steady lip, gazing down at him like he was a miracle. She held his hand tightly as if afraid to let go. He was certain she was holding onto him with the intent of grounding him, but it looked the opposite. Instead, she looked overwhelmed with relief and on the verge of collapsing into a heap of sobbing gratitude.

Oddly enough, on the edge of life and death, he was the one who felt lucky. He felt contentment with the heat of her palm over his hand. He found peace in the loving look in her eyes. 

He found a hope worth holding on to.

They were almost too late, Honey thought. 

They found Peter exactly where Felicia thought he would be, more or less. Near Long Island City, not far from the Ravenswood Power Station. At a clock tower with a broken face.

Peter was at the bottom on a pile of rubble. It was a horrifying sight. His broken form was covered in dirt and dust, blood trailing from his ears and nose. 

He was dead. He looked dead. She knew he had to be dead.

Suddenly, she couldn’t stand straight anymore. The air escaped her lungs, like a vacuum into space, as she stared at his motionless body. The sound evaporated and fragments of worried statements drifted by—goddamn you crazy sonofabitch—sweartogod you better be dead or i’ll kill ya—as Felicia and Eddie descended upon his body.

Blinking back tears, the vision of Peter’s corpse swam in her eyes. 

Her mind was elsewhere.

It was night. She was at the mountain retreat, sitting up in Peter’s bed. She leaned over him, carding her fingers through his hair. Her heart ached with sympathy, forehead furrowed with concern. He sobbed into her lap like a child, curled into the fetal position. 

That night, they would fall asleep hand-in-hand.

Her fingers twitched at the memory.

Hours had passed. She was sitting, perched anxiously on the back of a plastic bench, with arms wrapped tightly around herself and her eyes hawkishly observing the rise and fall of Peter’s chest.

They were in what Peter had referred to as “The Bunker.” 

It was the abandoned, unfinished ‘Roosevelt Ave.’ subway station beneath Queens. Inside the decrepit station of chipping, art deco arches, and web-covered, stained glass skylights, was a row of abandoned subway cars left to rust on a track. Unlike the rest of the station, they were buzzing with energy.

They had been modified and outfitted to serve different purposes. One car held a weapons storage cache, a server room in the next, a sleeping and dining car lined with several cots and booths, a laboratory with a mishmash of equipment from the 1990s, and finally, a medical bay, which they were in.

Peter was unconscious. His body was bloodied and bruised, stretched out in a gurney, hooked up to IVs, wires, and electrodes. Monitors beeped around him, as fluid bags slowly drained into his system.

He looked like he’d been run over by a tank. 

Whatever Peter attempted to do at the clock tower, it appeared as if he’d broken himself trying to do it. 

A watercolor portrait of purples, reds, and blues covered the pale canvas of his torso. It looked as if the entity—Venom, as Eddie called it—had been ripped from his body, pulled out through his pores. In its wake, it laid waste to his flesh, leaving bruises that bubbled under his skin and stained his complexion in blackberry tones.

Peter had fallen unconscious just a few seconds after being revived. Dr. Cho informed the group that he still had a pulse, but she was uncertain how long it would take him to wake up again. 

Or if he would. She didn’t have to say the part they were all already thinking about.

At the moment, he was sleeping, and Honey felt obligated to watch over him. His eyes twitched behind his lids, and she wondered what he was dreaming about or if he was dreaming at all. And if he was dreaming, she hoped it was a good dream. 

Selfishly, she hoped she was in it. However, a familiar, bitter voice assured her that her presence would technically make it a nightmare.

Whatever anger she held, the boiling contempt fueled by her paranoia and fear, evaporated once she saw Peter’s broken body. It was a confusing whiplash of emotions—to want to shoot someone one moment and to weep over their corpse the next. She resented the conflict in her mind but understood the clarity of her heart. 

She loved Peter. Without a doubt. 

Whether that was a good or bad thing, she wasn’t sure. She’d been wrong about such things before. 

But now, she wasn’t focused on the dark thoughts rousing suspicion in her mind. Instead, she was focused solely on his eyes, the way they shifted beneath the eyelids as he slept. She pictured their golden hue, indistinguishable from sunlight. She envisioned charting the constellation of beauty marks on his body. Kissing the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that formed whenever he smiled. Worshipping the artistry with which the gods carved out his jaw and molded his features.

She only looked up from her dutiful watch when she recognized Miles’ voice. Her eyes darted over as the teen emerged through the sliding doors. He was winded like he’d been running. Ripping off his beanie, his mocha eyes were wide with terror as he gazed at Peter’s state.

“Miles,” Felicia breathed a sigh of relief, alerting the others to his presence. He locked his worried gaze on his mentor. Other anxious faces occupied the back of the car as Johnny followed behind Miles and joined Miguel and Eddie. 

“You shoulda called me,” he protested with indignation. The complaint was directed at everyone. “Why didn’t you let me know what was goin’ on? I coulda been there to help!”

“Honestly,” Felicia answered with an exasperated sigh, “I didn’t know what we’d find. Wasn’t ready to deal with that.”

“That’s bullshit,” Miles snidely argued. “One of y’all coulda died out there!” The tiniest crack formed in the tone of his voice. He clamped down on his jaw. “Pete coulda died out there! And, what, I was just supposed to sit around—?”

“And stay alive,” Eddie muttered under his breath. He sat with arms and ankles crossed across a subway bench. They turned to him, Miles fixing him with a scolding look, but Eddie didn’t shrink away. “That’s the whole point of this, kid.”

Miles’s eyes flashed lividly. “Call me ‘kid’ one more time—”

“That’s what you are!” Eddie snapped back, overcome with frustration. “Jesus Christ, you’re sixteen! Can you blame him for tryin’ to let you just be a kid for a little while longer?”

“Mira pendejo, I don’t need you to tell me—”

“No, Pete should tell you!” Eddie growled, cutting Miles off. The beefy man stood abruptly, striding towards the teen. “But since he might not ever wake up again, I’ll speak on his behalf! So shut up and listen!”

Miles snapped his mouth shut, though his eyes screamed lividly. The scowl on his youthful face made it look like he’d bitten off his own tongue. Eddie leered closer, making the teen puff up his chest, looking up only an inch to meet Eddie’s eyes.

“The world is shit,” the older man said, undeterred by Miles’ bravado. “I know it. You know it. Pete knows it better than anyone. Your uncle dragged you into this mess, but Peter tried to give you a way out. Away from all this crap. Away from Fisk. That’s why he took on the Symbiote! Not because he was chasing a high, not because he was on some power trip—he did it because he loves you, kid.”

“By almost gettin’ himself killed?” Miles snapped back. “That’s his love language? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie grumbled with a frown. Even he understood that Miles was right about that. “Some people only know how to love by how much they suffer.” He paused momentarily, keeping a stern expression while trying to conceal how much the statement resonated with him. “You either die a hero or live to see yourself become the villain. Pete doesn’t want this life for you. Trust me. You don’t want it either.”

“How do you know that, huh?” Miles said through gritted teeth. His eyes shimmered in the greenish lights of the subway car. “How do you know what I want—how does he? He doesn’t get to make my choices for me. Maybe I wanna decide for myself! Just like he did!”

His hazel-gray eyes drooped as he quietly contemplated the boy’s statement. “You do have a choice, kid,” he said, sorrow etching his features. “Just like he did.” The flared tempers simmering beneath the surface had burned off, leaving only a painful discourse behind. “And he wanted you to do better.” 

Miles fell silent. His chest pumped slowly as he glared up at Eddie, jaw tensed. Cords tightened along the side of his neck, pulled taut by stubborn rage. Heat built up behind his eyelids, pushed along by tears threatening to break free. He sniffed, angrily wiping at his face, trying and failing to remain stern. 

For his part, Eddie took no satisfaction in Miles’ inability to argue further. The train station was silent. From her vantage point, Honey could see the boy’s lower lip begin to quiver before he angrily bit down on it. Felicia stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Miles, albeit awkwardly. 

As soon as her arms circled him, the teen’s resolve collapsed like a house of cards. His face crumpled, lines skewing his expression, and he buried his face into Felicia’s neck. Miles’ shoulders shook as sobs racked through his body. 

As she watched, Honey realized she was crying along with him. 

Hours passed.

More of the Spiders arrived. 

Noir made an appearance but kept himself scarce. One look at Peter’s proximity to death and he spared himself from the stages of grief that would inevitably follow. 

The woman Honey heard be referred to as “Redback” and “Jess Drew” arrived shortly after. She held an air of graceful authority and cautious collectedness. Although her composure was betrayed by the sight of her chewing her lower lip as Jess observed Peter. After that, she stayed away from the medical car, preoccupied with Miguel and Felicia as they discussed strategy.

The biggest surprise was the fleeting glimpse of a woman Honey had never seen. First, she saw quick movement behind the dirty subway windows. Then, a blurry silhouette zoomed across the rear exit between the cars. Finally, the doors slid open, and a pair of dark eyes blinked in her direction. A Victory roll of thick black hair pinned on the crown of her head poked out from behind the seat. As she leaned in, curtains of straight black hair cascaded off her shoulders in a pointedly-vintage 1950s style. The stranger spied on them, glancing worriedly at Peter and warily at Honey.

She was a twitchy, young-looking woman with an oval face and glittering eyes. For a gangster, her mostly-black outfit was more reminiscent of West Side Story than The Godfather. In true Rockabilly fashion, she wore a motorcycle jacket over a feminine red-and-white polka dot tank top, black skinny jeans, combat boots, and a bright cherry lip stain. 

“Um... hello?” Honey asked with a shaky voice, unsure how to respond to whatever she was doing.

“I know who you are,” the woman called back from the shadows, still not fully entering the car. 

Honey blinked. “Oh... kay...?”

“You never met me,” the woman affirmed, “if anyone ever asks you.”

“Um... I’m pretty sure I haven’t anyway.”

“Peni,” the voice called from the shadows. Only then did a face appear for longer than a few seconds. “I’ve watched you on camera. Hi.”

She almost did a double-take at the blunt information. Miles had mentioned the name ‘Peni’ before when referring to the team’s ‘tech nerd.’ But, whatever Honey was expecting, this wasn’t it.

As quickly as the introduction was made, it was over. Peni disappeared from view, the doors closing.

Once again alone with Peter, she stared at the empty doorway. “Hi.”

Honey was never good with silence. When it was too quiet, she was left with nothing but the parroting mockery of her inner dialogue. She recounted every word she said to Peter before the monster took over. She told him everything, and the fact that there was nothing to hide behind anymore terrified her. 

What would he think of her now?

What did she think of herself? What did she think of Peter? And what would be the first thing she would say to him if she ever got the chance? 

Just as her eyes began to blur for the dozenth time that hour, she spotted that the chance had arrived. 

She held her breath. “Peter?” 

The injured man stirred gently, lungs shakily taking in the stale air. The orbs of his eyes swam behind tightly-closed lids that were stained purple. A breathless groan crawled out of his throat. 

Awe-struck, a short chuckle escaped her suddenly, with tiny tears budding in the corners of her eyes. “Hey...” she sharply exhaled, tightening her lips to keep them from trembling. One hand tightened around his fingers while the other covered her heart. “Peter... I’m—” She swallowed hard, her tongue twisted around nothing, tears dripping past her widening grin. “Hi.”

The slightest movement of his head triggered a grimace. Gently, he pried his eyelids open, like awakening from a 1,000-year sleep. She fought the urge to erupt into gleeful laughter as he laid eyes on her. Joy washed over her, sweeping her along a river of relief.

She blinked away her tears as she lost herself in the soft hue of his eyes, mesmerized by the facets of cognac and smoky quartz that rested tiredly on hers. They were, without a doubt, the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen.

A crease formed between his thick brows. “Are you here?” he murmured in a wary voice.

The smile slipped off her face at his question, eyes blinking rapidly. “I��m-I’m here.” His face didn’t soften. She suddenly thought of awful soap operas where a lead character wakes up from a coma and is stricken with amnesia. The thought stirred fear in her, followed by confusion. “I’m... right here.” Would things be better if he didn’t know who she was? 

Silence. He studied her. She observed the color of his eyes dim somberly. Sadness pulled at the corners of his mouth. It twisted her heart. 

He remembered her, alright.

“Why?” he croaked.

She took in a sharp breath as if a needle had stabbed her. She was shocked by the question, and in her confusion, it afforded her time to think about it.

Why was she here?

Only a dozen hours ago, she wanted to shoot him dead. Just an hour before that, she wanted to lay in the warmth of his arms forever. A handful of months before that, she was his prisoner.

Their relationship had changed so many times her mind couldn’t keep up with what her heart was feeling. Pure instinct drove her actions, for better or for worse.

But since all of her darkest secrets spilled forth from her mouth, and Venom spilled forth from Peter’s darkness, everyone had been focused solely on bringing Peter home safely. Herself included. Once Peter had been found, no one explicitly told her to follow them to the Bunker.

Instead of doing the thing she was most comfortable doing— running— she had remained at Peter’s side. 

What’s that about?

A million answers swirled — I was forced to be here, I was afraid to be left behind, I had nowhere else to go — but none of them seemed right. Finally, Honey found a response that made sense. Her instincts dictated her words.

“There wasn’t anywhere else I wanted to be.” 

The truth sounded strange coming from her lips, shamefully. As she met Peter’s eyes, he watched her sullenly as if he were thinking the same thing.

Silence returned. The ever-present foe was broken only by a shaky cough rattling Peter’s bones. The look on his face suggested that every breath was agony. 

Silence—always jabbering, when will you ever shut up?—it was deafening. Driving her insane.

“Dr. Cho wasn’t sure if—” She stopped short, anxiously rephrasing her sentence, “Um, wasn’t, uh—wasn’t sure when you’d wake up.” Her free hand rubbed her knee. The statement left her queasy. “I didn’t want you to be alone when you did.”

His lashes fluttered open, eyes full of melancholy as they rested on her. “Sweet girl.”

She gripped his hand and sat inches away, but it felt more like lightyears. It was as if Peter had died in the fall, and all that was left was a shell. The coldness of each moment pierced her heart further. Yet, despite this, she lifted her chin with resolve.

“I, um... I know it technically makes me a hypocrite,” she began softly, “but I’m trying not to be mad that you tried to get rid of the Symbiote alone.” She met his eyes with a sad gaze. “You coulda died.”

He watched her with an unreadable expression.

“I know it’s not fair for me to be angry,” Honey reasoned, swallowing down her emotion. “But when I thought you were gonna die, I was mad. And then I was sad. And scared. Maybe more scared than anything.”

His eyes drifted downcast towards his feet. “M’sorry.”

“Me too. What I did—it was... it was bad—”

“I didn’t know.”

She knitted her brows together. “Didn’t know I was sorry? Or didn’t know it was bad—?”

“Didn’t know...” he replied with a weak tone, “...what he did to you.” 

Her jaw clenched tightly as heat rushed to her cheeks. She had wanted to talk but was now regretting it. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for that discussion. 

Peter’s eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, forehead creased with sorrow. “Didn’t know what you were runnin’ from. Thought it was me. But it was him.” 

Tears brimmed as she gazed down at him. A frigid smile stretched his lips—the kind that doesn’t warm the eyes. Bitterness and sorrow weighed down his expression.

“Makes sense—why you never trusted me.” The corners of his mouth twisted downward as his eyes went glossy. Heartbreak flayed his voice. “He’s what you see when you look at me.” 

He mumbled it aloud, but he wasn’t speaking to her. Instead, he was lost in a prison with bars of guilt and locks of self-loathing. 

His misery cut through her like a knife to her heart. Irony mocked her. Earlier that day, she foolishly almost killed herself over the idea that Peter and John were the same. But, facing Peter in the present, she couldn’t think of anything further from the truth.

“No!” she stuttered in distress. “No-n—Peter, that’s not—I don’t, I swear I don’t.” 

Remorsefully, she shook her head, welling with tears. He met her eyes again, and all she could see was despair. It was like watching a ship sink into the ocean. Like watching someone she loved drown before her eyes.

Loved.

“Peter,” she whimpered, jaw wobbling, “I... you don’t...I don’t....” Her inability to communicate infuriated her. Impatiently, she thrust the words out, “I-I love y—”

“Don’t say it,” he whispered, voice strained. He snapped his eyes shut, tearing her from his sight. “Please don’t.” It was the most desperate of pleas. 

“Don’t say anything.” His voice broke on the last word. A flood spilled past the gates of his lids, rolling over whatever strength he had left. “Whether it's true or not, I don’t think I know what’s real anymore.”

Her soul shattered at his admission, and she could only nod. The trust between them— what little bit there had ever been— was broken beyond repair. No fixing it this time.

“Holy shit—he’s awake!” 

She heard Johnny’s voice over her shoulder, reminding her of where they were. She looked over at Johnny, standing in the doorway of the sliding emergency exit, as he called out to the adjacent car. “Doc! He’s awake!” 

Within several seconds, the car was flooded with excitement. Honey sheepishly wiped her tears away, back straightening, as bodies crowded around her. Felicia and Miles were closest to Peter, followed by Eddie and Miguel. Johnny leaped over a bench seat to join the pandemonium from the other side. Helen pushed toward the front after Felicia ordered the group to make way. 

Reluctantly, Honey released his hand, standing up to give Helen her place at his side.

The doctor immediately went to work with a flashlight beaming in Peter’s eyes and her fingers on his pulse, asking him how he was feeling. 

“Living the dream,” he weakly replied, with no lack of sarcasm.

“You’re lucky to be living at all,” Helen remarked coldly. “Anyone else taking a fall like that would’ve been a splatter on the pavement.”

Honey faintly responded out of earshot, her voice mouselike and thick with grief. “He’s nothing like everyone else.”

In the early stages of dawn, Honey was in the dining car surrounded by the others. Peter had passed out soon after he awakened. He slept soundly in the medical car under Helen’s observation. The doctor explained that the best thing for him would be to let him rest. Moving him would be dangerous.

Miguel pointed out that they were compromised, so there was nowhere safe to move him.

With that grim frustration, he questioned Honey before the rest of the gang. It was difficult to talk about her trauma. It was even harder to admit her betrayal to those she knew best. It was torture to talk about both things in front of everyone—strangers, like Jess and Noir, or Johnny, now catching up on what he’d missed earlier. Or Miles—especially Miles.

Part of her wanted to be offended by the interrogation's coldness and Miguel’s gruff tone. Who was he to treat her like she was a criminal? 

But as soon as that defensiveness reared inside her, she cut it down. She was a rat, but did she have to be a hypocrite, too?

“Tell me again,” Miguel demanded firmly. “What else did you tell Walker?”

Honey slumped down in the bench seat with her arms folded. “Names,” she grumbled bitterly. “Times.” 

With each answer, she felt her skin burning from the rising heat of contempt. There was no more hiding from it. The most she could do was be as honest as possible. 

She resigned herself to scrutiny as an act of penance. “Who came and went. When they went. Where they were going. Locations.” 

Miguel’s eyes went wide with alarm. “Did you tell him about this place?”

“No,” she bit back. “I didn’t even know this place existed.”

Unsatisfied, he glowered, “When did you last talk to him?”

“I didn’t talk to him—”

“Then how did you communicate?”

“Give it a rest, Miguel,” Felicia scowled, unimpressed by his ‘bad cop’ persona. 

Honey didn’t feel like she was on Felicia’s good side either, but she did feel somewhat shielded by her presence. 

Mercilessly, he drove right through whatever shield may have existed. “You stabbed us in the back!” he accused, pointing his finger at her. “You were offered multiple chances to come clean, but you refused, and people died. You could’ve done the right thing, but you didn’t. So I’m sorry if I’m not as sensitive to your predicament.”

Shame filled her face as she cast her eyes downward. Nothing could shield her from the guilt. 

“That’s enough,” Felicia said, shooting impatient eyes at Miguel.

“Not until we know our people are safe!”

“I said ‘enough’!”

Miguel took a step back. Felicia didn’t raise her voice often, but it felt like the ground itself shook. Her eyes flashed red as she skewered him with her gaze. Quietly fuming, he glared at his superior and then stormed off.

Tiredly, Felicia sighed. “Where are we with backup?” she asked, pressing her lips into a firm line. “Who’s checked in?”

“Peni’s running comms,” Jessica replied. “Pinging everyone’s GPS now.”

Eddie mumbled through a tired yawn, “You got GPS trackers on everybody?”

“On the phones,” Miles explained. “She hacks the OS before we hand them out. Allows her to access them remotely.”

Idly, he scratched at the scruff on his face, replying, “What’s the point in that?” Then, a loud squelch from the overhead PA system erupted. Eddie nearly jumped out of his skin as if God herself were speaking.

“Means I can mine all your data and spy on you when you look up porn,” Peni’s voice echoed over the loudspeakers in the car, further startling Eddie.

“Jesus!” Eddie cursed. He hissed, eyes cast upwards at the speakers. “I don’t look up porn on the Spider phone!” 

Alarmed, Johnny whispered, “Can she really do that?”

“Can we please stay on task?!” Felicia glowered.

“Miguel’s right.”

The group refocused their attention on Honey. Her head was lowered, eyes glistening. “This is my fault,” she whispered sorrowfully, replaying the series of bad decisions that brought her to this point.

When she glanced back up, she was met with more silence. Painful, but not unkind.

“I, um... I don’t—I’m not good... with... trusting people,” she said sheepishly. “Not good with... letting anyone in.” She hesitated, her voice shaky as she breathed through the heartache. Patiently, the others were waiting for her to continue. 

“I... I know it’s not worth much, but I’m sorry.” She swallowed hard, her eyes rimmed with tears. “I’m sorry about Hobie,” she said with an expression like she had eaten glass. “I should’ve stopped this a long time ago.”

Felicia fixed sorrowful eyes on her. “Hobie’s death wasn’t on you,” she softly explained. “Between Fisk and the Feds, there are some hefty prices on our heads. Money like that makes loyalty difficult. That night, it didn’t matter what info you had. It was one of our guys that helped pull the trigger. Most of the time, we’re pretty good at picking out the bad apples. Not always.”

Honey stared up at her with furrowed brows, nodding graciously as she accepted the tiny reprieve from guilt.

“Plus, it helps to see everything everyone does with their phone when they’re in the bathroom.” The Voice of God chimed in again, but Peni was standing in the car's doorway this time. Eddie nearly clung to the ceiling with fright. 

“How are you doing that?!” he exclaimed.

Peni rolled her eyes incredulously. “By logging keystrokes, duh—”

“No, not that!” Eddie hissed.

“Not to mention, that’s a huge invasion of privacy,” said Johnny.

Eddie looked over at the tiny woman. “Do you have this place wired or something? Or bugged?”

“Wired?” their tech nerd scoffed. “Bugged? What do you think this is, Goodfellas?”

“Good movie,” Noir stated firmly. 

“That’s the one with Leo, right?” Miles asked.

Johnny blanched at the teen’s response. “Wait, what did you just say—???”

“For your information, Eddie, I don’t have to plant microphones to hear your conversation,” Peni arrogantly teased, nose in the air. “What do you even think phones are for, dummy?”

“Dude!” Johnny was still staring at Miles like he’d grown extra arms, the two of them squabbling. “Don’t tell me you’re confusing The Departed with Goodfellas—!” 

“Nah, man, that’s the one with the mumblin’ dude who's like ‘you come to me on the day of my daughter’s wedding—’”

Johnny’s voice soared to new heights. “That’s The Godfather!”

“He gave me a phone!” Blurting out with alarm, Honey shot up to her feet. 

Jess stared, brows furrowed with confusion. “I think we’re past that—”

“John gave me a phone!” she clarified, eyes darting to Felicia and Peni. “He told me to always have it on me... Jesus Christ! He was listening! The whole time— he could hear everything!” 

The rest stared in confusion while Honey grappled with the next horrifying thought. 

John heard everything. 

Every conversation. 

Every detail. 

Every secret.

He had everything.

“Oh God,” she breathed, face full of terror.

She paled at the memory of being in her bed, curled up in Peter’s arms as he divulged his deepest secrets. The phone that would damn them all was inches away, tucked securely in the box frame. 

He knows everything.

Her eyes went wide, filling with panic. “They’re coming—”

“Get down!” Peter's strained voice cracked through the silence.

A moment later, a cacophony of gunfire, pelted metal, and shattering glass surrounded them. Bodies hit the subway car floor like dominos, wedging between walls and beneath seats. Honey landed hard on her side, knocking the wind out of her. 

Screams rang out all around as glass rained down on them. Pops of automatic gunfire rolled on uninterrupted, like spokes on a wheel. Honey could feel tiny pinprick stings from shavings of metal and splintered plastic, like a wasp's nest had consumed the car. The exposed parts of her skin were battered with debris. As she cowered, a heavy weight dropped on her back.

The second she recognized the cinnamon and cedar scent, she opened her eyes in astonishment. Peter was there—fully awake, with wires and IVs still attached. He protected her, blanketing her with his body while she clutched him tight. She buried her face in his warmth while hell rained down around them. 

“Agghhhh!” — “Stay down!” — “Cat! Get back here!” — “Kill the lights!” — “There’s too many of ‘em...”

Voices called out frantically, rolled over by the crashing waves of gunfire. 

At a certain point, she wondered how long the guns were firing. Was it five minutes? Five years? The constant barrage of blamblamblam pierced her eardrums and rattled her bones, driving her insane with terror. Her heart must have outpaced the bullets. She felt Peter’s arms tighten around her, securing her to his chest. 

She focused on his body heat, his breath on her neck, and the vise of his arms. It was deja vu, eerily identical to the night he carried her away from Fisk’s garage. 

Her mind transported her away from the train back to that day. She trembled in the steaming water of the bathtub, trying to read his warm eyes— the color of caramel and chocolate and bourbon—while he diligently dabbed at the adhesive covering her mouth. The only roughness in his touch came from the calluses on his fingertips. 

She has no reason to trust him. But she does anyway.

His long, gentle fingers. They laid out a spread of plated charcuterie and sandwiches cut into triangles onto a picnic blanket overlooking a gorgeous vista of the Catskills. That’s where she is now. Nervously, he frets about the forgotten wine, pushing his fingers through his thick hair. He looks boyish and shy. 

She has every right to be terrified. But she isn’t.

She held Peter so tight she was concerned about breaking his bones and damaging him further. But she was incapable of prying her hands from him. No one could. 

There was no escaping this. They were trapped. Any moment now, everything would go black. Seconds away from the darkness. Centimeters from death. 

And there wasn’t anywhere else she wanted to be.

The gunfire let up for a few moments. A pocket of air in which to breathe.

“Goddamn it, it’s S.H.I.E.L.D.!” Miguel’s voice hollered from outside the car, although hearing him over the ringing in their ears was difficult.

Honey wasn’t listening anyway. She was listening to Peter’s voice as he crooned a heartachingly pure rendition of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You,’ a song she felt might as well have been written about them. 

“Honey, look at me.” His alarm brought her back to the present. He stared down at her, his eyes anxiously searching her face, while he hoisted himself above her on his forearms. 

The moment she locked eyes with his, tears filled her gaze. Fear, joy, desperation—it overwhelmed her, hitting her like a tidal wave. He was still injured, she noted. The skin on his face and exposed upper body were still marked up with bruises and minor cuts. But his eyes—the tang of oranges, the golden tint of an Old Fashioned—reflected how alive he was, despite his earlier outward appearance. 

Adrenaline surged through his body as he caged her with his forearms. By contrast, his voice was as soft as a feather. “Honey—talk to me.” He whispered, breathless with fear he was struggling to contain. His eyes regarded her like she was something intricate, delicate, and precious. “You okay?” 

Her lungs were empty. Her vision was blurred with tears. But she nodded quickly, her chin wobbling.

A glimmer of relief crossed his features as he caressed her cheek. “Okay, s’okay... you’re okay, I gotcha—” It was unclear who he was reassuring. “You’re gonna be okay, ’m gonna get you out.” 

She had no reason to trust him. But she did. Her head continued to nod, and a little hum escaped from her throat in agreement.

“Stay down, okay?” he said placatingly while his thumb brushed the delicate skin beneath her eye. “Stay right here. I’m comin’ back.” 

“No, please! Please don’t leave.”

“I’ll be right back—”

“I-I can’t, please, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can—”

“I can’t lose you!”

His breath hitched. She felt his heart skip beneath his chest. Adoration pooled in his eyes. “I’m coming back. I promise.” He kissed her forehead softly, allowing his gaze to linger just long enough for a reassuring half-smile.

She had no reason to believe him. But she had to.

Before she could protest, he pushed himself up to a low crouch. Then, in the blink of an eye, she watched him leap from the ground and cling to the ceiling of the subway car. Stunned, she watched him crawl barefoot to the emergency exit at the top of the train car. Then, silently and swiftly, he disappeared through the port hole.

“Nancy! Stay down!”

Eddie’s voice... and his silly, endearing nickname. She was still on her back on the floor. She glanced up to see an upside-down viewpoint of Eddie as he reached for her. Next to him, Johnny and Jessica took cover beneath the table. “Stay right there! I’m comin’ to you—”

Another barrage of gunfire erupted, and he flattened to the ground. A scream ripped out at the rear of the subway car. Honey glanced down to see Miles crumpling into a ball as bullet holes sliced through the metal dangerously close to his cowering form. Beside him, Helen dragged herself along the ground sluggishly. She was covered in blood.

“Miles!” Honey shrieked. Her body moved of its own accord. Jarring drum hits rang out from both sides as she army-crawled toward the teen. The gunfire began to become more sporadic, with more frequent pauses. 

“Reloading, let’s go!”

“The lights! The lights!”

Every inch felt like a mile, but she pushed on with her belly to the ground. She reached Miles first, pulling him to the ground and hugging his body closer to hers just as another wave hit. Honey guided Miles along the floor toward Helen as soon as it passed over. 

The woman gasped and sputtered as she writhed in pain. Blood soaked through her right side, from her torso to her thigh. Eyes horrified at the damage, Honey searched Helen’s face desperately.

“To-to-tuorn-tourniquet...” the doctor said through chattering teeth.

“Gimme your belt!” Honey said to Miles. “Stay flat!”

The teen diligently reached for his nylon belt, shifting around to loosen and remove it while keeping his back to the floor. Honey took the belt from him and helped Helen wrap it around her thigh.

Just as she pulled it tight, the lights switched off. Frantically, Honey searched the cabin with terror, struggling to adjust to the darkness. More shouting, unfamiliar, followed by howls of fear and pain, surrounded her. From her vantage point, she could see shapes outside better now that the cabin lights were out.

Black-clad figures outfitted with S.W.A.T. gear and carrying more artillery than a small militia tip-toed around the car. She watched as one of the infiltrators passed by a window opposite from her. A pair of dark boots dropped onto the gunman, taking him to the ground. She gasped, ducking closer to the floor as the gunman was beaten and had his rifle taken. Then, she recognized Noir by his black trench coat, finally releasing her breath. 

The relief was short-lived. Noir turned and fired the weapon, which looked like a shotgun, at an incoming attacker. The bang was accentuated by a splatter on the windows, like a can of stewed tomatoes had exploded. Honey yelped at the sight before covering her eyes. She felt her stomach rolling in her belly.

A crash forced her eyes back open. She looked through the darkness to glimpse Felicia’s silver hair and the glint of a silver knife. She fought hand-to-hand with another armed combatant twice her size outside the train. The stout man was no match for the smaller-framed woman’s speed. She attacked him from all sides, burying her blade between his ribs like fangs on a viper.

Another goon rushed at her, knocking her flat on her back. Honey’s heart nearly stopped with panic as she watched the gunman aim his weapon at Felicia, prepared to fire. Suddenly, Miguel leaped out of nowhere with the talons of his gauntlet raised.

The razor-sharp blades attached to his forearm rang out as they cut through the air. Honey had no idea what type of metal they were made from, but it was sharper than anything she’d ever seen. With a woosh, the blades sliced through the rifle barrel like a blade of grass. In shock, the gunman dropped the rifle and drew a pistol instead. Miguel sliced through the man’s wrists with the same ease, separating his hands from his body. 

She looked away as another spray of crimson covered the walls and seat. She heard the gunman cry out before being silenced with a sickening squelch. 

Miguel was suddenly yanked backward by a brutish figure, pulling him off the train. 

“Miguel!” Felicia called out with alarm. Within seconds she uprighted herself and barrelled outside to back him up. Honey attempted to follow her with her gaze, but another burst of gunfire erupted, so close that she could smell the burning of her own hair.

“I’m comin’!” Miles hollered. Honey stayed down, too afraid to look up. 

“They’re coming through the rear!” she heard Jess’ voice from nearby. 

“Keep ‘em away from the train!” Johnny’s voice.

Where was Peter? 

She felt sick. She hadn’t seen or heard him since he vanished. The idea of him meeting a brutal end made her dizzy. It made her flesh clammy. Bile crawled up her throat, with a rising panic close to a scream. She clamped her mouth closed to keep it all inside. She couldn’t think about Peter being hurt right now. She could barely think at all.

A gunshot, followed by a male groan. 

“Storm!”

She squealed as Johnny collapsed through the train entrance and landed hard on the ground. From her hiding spot, she saw blood soaking his right shoulder.

Her eyes went wide. “Johnny—!”

Another footsoldier boarded the train behind him, wielding a bloody combat dagger. Dazed from blood loss himself, the soldier collapsed on top of Johnny, the knife raised up high. She watched the two men struggle, trembling beneath a seat. It reminded her of lions thrashing, burying blade-like claws into one another.

More gunfire erupted nearby, jolting her out of her reverie. Johnny’s attacker straddled him and bared his weight down on the hilt of the dagger. Arms shaking and hands slick with blood, Johnny clutched the blade, trying to keep it from piercing his chest. 

Her eyes narrowed on the attacker. The man wore face paint to obscure his features, like some deranged Navy Seal. His tactical clothes were solid black, save for a white, geometric eagle patch on his shoulder. This was ‘SHIELD,’ or whatever Miguel called it. 

Honey saw the strain on her friend’s face, noting the weakening of his muscles. If she did nothing, Johnny would be stabbed to death right in front of her.

She needed to intervene.

Do something.

She glanced around desperately for a weapon.

The men were snarling with lips curled back. The attacker raised his fist above the hilt, ready to bash the knife into Johnny’s chest. Suddenly, he was smacked in the face by a midweight object. Dazed, he blinked through the darkness to spot a blood-splattered ballet flat on the ground. He looked up, glimpsing its owner.

Wide-eyed, Honey stared back at the SHIELD agent as he set crosshairs on her. The man bounded forward, lunging at her. She screamed, crawling backward like a crab, as the man grabbed her by the ankle above her bare foot. He held the knife high, preparing to plunge it into her chest. A blam rang out, stopping him in his tracks, as a bullet tore through the man’s heart. 

As her attacker toppled backwards, Honey turned around to see Jessica holding a smoking pistol. Without a second thought, the woman rushed up to Johnny and lowered herself to his side. “Are you hurt?” she asked Honey, offhandedly as she examined his stab wound. 

Honey shook her head ‘no.’ 

He grunted in pain as Jessica put pressure on the wound beneath Johnny’s collarbone. “Get his gun,” she ordered as she worked. Honey blinked at the gunman’s corpse, hand still clinging to a bloody knife.

“Get the gun!” Jess repeated, eyes intense. “Works a lot better than a shoe.”

She blinked. “I... I can’t.” 

The Woman glanced up at her with a hard line between her brows. “It’s either them or you. Who’s it gonna be?”

Honey stared back, face blank. Jessica pressed her lips together. “I have to check on Cho. Put pressure right here.” Honey crawled towards them, replacing Jessica’s hands with hers. She gulped dazedly, watching the sticky, red warmth pool around her fingers. He hissed in pain, but diligently, she held the compress firm.

The Woman stood quickly and shuffled over to the dead man, retrieving his sidearm and knife. She returned with the pistol in hand, ejecting, examining, and replacing the magazine like flexing one of her muscles. She wrenched back the top of the gun, letting it slide back in place with a lock. 

Honey watched the whole thing, jaw agape like it was a magic trick.

Deftly, she flipped the weapon around, presenting the grip end to Honey and placing it in the woman’s hand.

“Now it’s them or him,” Jess declared firmly, jerking her forehead towards Johnny. “You choose.”

Bewildered, she warily took the weight of the gun as Jess disappeared toward the back of the train. “Don’t shoot anyone we know!” the Woman called out. 

Honey stared at the gun, then found Johnny’s sweating face. “It’s okay,” she whispered, putting weight back on his wound. “I’m gonna take care of you.” She swallowed the tremor in her voice, putting on a face of confidence, despite her terror. 

She could pretend to be brave? Right?

Another spray of shots pierced the cabin overhead, and she crouched down to cover Johnny. 

The barrage of shots eased again, pausing for a blessed few seconds. “Incoming!” she heard Miguel shout outside. “Ultraman’s here!”

Ultraman? What...?

The emergency lights in the tunnel dimmed as a whirring sound began to ring out. With eyes like saucers, she witnessed growing pandemonium outside. More shouting and panicked footsteps echoed in the darkened tunnel, followed by a slowly-building roar, like a jet engine coming to life.

“Get down!” she heard Miles’ voice behind her. He leaped over the bench seat and pressed his body over hers and Johnny’s. Suddenly, the train jerked sideways, knocked off the track like a toy. The bodies inside were tossed to the opposite wall as the car toppled over.

Head throbbing and eyes blurry, Honey gazed around attempting to get her bearings. A bright, red light erupted, a beam cutting through the floor of the car, just a few feet away from where they had been thrown. She watched in horror as the vehicle was sliced in half like a loaf of bread.

Shrieks from terrified men echoed outside. The car rocked, metal twisting as the train's rear tore away. With her jaw agape, she peered down the train car, now opened up like a tunnel. Finally, her eyes found the source of the commotion.

A ten-foot humanoid robot smashed through the bodies of the SHIELD team, knocking them down like bowling pins. She watched in stunned disbelief as the robot’s giant legs trampled fallen soldiers beneath its mechanical feet. The arms of the robot were as thick as steel beams but faster than a human’s. They thrust out in all directions, tossing adult bodies like rag dolls. The machine was a red-and-yellow blur, with shells bouncing harmlessly off its bulletproof skin.

“C’mon,” Miles grasped Honey’s shoulder, pulling her to attention. “We gotta go!”

“What is that thing?” she gasped.

“It’s Peni!” he shouted back. “Now, c’mon, let’s move!”

Shaking the astonishment away, she followed Miles’ lead. She grabbed Johnny’s legs as the teen hooked his forearms underneath the injured man’s shoulders. They grunted from the effort of hoisting him up.

“m’sorrym’sorrym’sorrysorry...” Miles rattled off as Johnny wailed in pain. “Don’t be mad at me!” 

The two carried him towards the tunnel opening, wobbling as they walked. Honey spotted movement from beside them— a gunman peering into an emergency port hole.

“Miles! Look out!” a voice boomed. She glanced over to see Eddie flying across the car, tackling Miles as the automatic weapon started firing. She screamed, dropping herself and Johnny to the ground, as bullet holes pierced the side of the car. 

When she looked up, she stared at the white-eagle emblem on the shoulder of the agent as he turned his gun from Miles to Honey. The man crawled through the port hole, just feet away from her. 

Horrified, she looked around until she saw the pistol Jess left her with lying in the rubble between her and the attacker. Eyes wide, she scurried on her hands and feet, crawling towards it. The gunman rushed her as soon as he saw what she was doing. 

For the second time in her life, Honey fired a gun. She jolted from the shocking recoil after the trigger had been pulled. The man howled and dropped to one knee. Stunned, she watched the man writhe, having taken the bullet in his shin. 

He looked up and glared at her with a murderous stare, fumes coming from his nose. Her jaw went slack as he lunged at her. She fired the weapon again, this time hitting him in the torso. It barely slowed him down, planting into the Kevlar of his vest. Before she could adjust, the attacker’s hand was wrapped around her throat, and he wrenched the pistol from her fingers.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” he spat at her, wheezing from the impact to his bulletproof vest. “Can’t wait ‘til he tears you a new—” 

The man’s grip dropped immediately as his head wrenched backward. 

Honey looked up in awe to see Peter, splattered blood beading down his chest, towering over them. Teeth gritted, he held the man by his hair, his massive hand expanding over the crown of his head. Then, with an enraged growl, Peter jerked his arm back. 

She watched the gunman jolt as his scalp was ripped off so forcefully that the top of his skull came with it. The man flailed, legs twitching sporadically like he’d swallowed a power line. Finally, Peter released his body. With blank eyes, he slumped to the side, brain matter spilling out.

She trembled at the horrific scene, watching the attacker go limp. Her wide eyes traveled up to her rescuer. 

Peter Parker. Half monster. Half man. Chest heaving, animalistic eyes roving, his savagery on full display. Her jaw hung open as she regarded him with horrified awe, with several thoughts swimming through her head.

One. 

He looked feral. Blood trailed down his face and torso in tiny crimson rivers. The ghastly sight made him look both dead and alive. More beast than man. Even without the Symbiote attached, his eyes were blown black from adrenaline. She thought about how Eddie mentioned Venom ‘reacted differently’ to Peter. And now she could see why.

Violence was in his very nature. He wore it around his shoulders like a cape. Carnage was his crown. The blood staining his flesh only made him stand taller, like a conquering barbarian on top of a mountain of skulls. He never needed Venom to become something monstrous. The violence was visceral, and he could never be separated from it. Not completely.  

It was terrifying to witness. She should be terrified.

Two: she wasn’t. 

She realized this as he locked eyes with her, suddenly going still. She watched him. He watched her. Both of them thinking the same thought.

This is who he was. Peter Parker.

Not Venom.

Not Ben Reilly.

Not any other false name he used to conceal himself in the darkness. As much as it terrified him, he was the darkness.

His eyes softened as he looked down at her, like a switch had been thrown. He turned docile only under her gaze. 

This was also who he was. And she realized that she didn’t want him any other way.

“Are you hurt?” Peter quietly asked, crouching before her as he scanned over her figure. Eyes glistening, she nodded, her mind stricken with deja vu. He reached out delicately with bloody hands and tipped her chin upwards until their gazes met. 

She swayed as exhaustion collided with her, weakening her muscles. “I-I...” she mumbled, jaw agape and shoulders limp, staring up at him with a hypnotized expression. “I... lost my shoe.”

He blinked in confusion before glancing down to see one of her ballet flats was missing.

“I think I saw it over here,” Johnny muttered through gritted teeth, snapping them out of their bubble. They turned to see him sprawled out on the ground, holding his shoulder with a thin sheen of sweat on his face. “I’m okay too, by the way.” 

“Johnny!” Peter said, alarmed. They dropped back to the ground and flanked the bleeding man. “Can you move?” he asked, brows furrowed. 

The blonde grunted as he held onto his pectoral muscle, blood soaking half his shirt. “Sure. Flesh wound.” 

A cocky smile filled with pearly white teeth assured them he was still relatively ‘normal.’ They breathed a sigh of relief as Peter delicately helped him up into a sitting position.

The attack had ended.  Honey wasn’t entirely sure when. The whirring steps of the robot approaching caught her attention. She looked down to see the red-and-yellow mecha-spider  step up to the opening of the train car. “That’s the last of them,” Peni’s mechanized voice declared. The robot’s torso opened to reveal Peni sitting inside. The wizard behind the curtain with painted blood-red lips.

“They’ll be back,” Peter said grimly before turning to Honey.

Tears filled her eyes as she stared back at him. Guilt gutted her, breaking her heart and every bit of strength left in her body. “This is all my fault.”

Just as Peter was about to reply, the broken sound of Miles’ voice clipped him short. The teenager whimpered, dread filling his lungs, “Guys...”

Peter and Honey turned towards Miles, seeing the teen crouched over on his knees. A body lay before him. They scurried to their feet, rushing to his side. Honey froze mid-step, eyes wide with horror.

“Eddie...” she gasped.

The burly man was on his back with a gaping hole in his chest. Slowly, it pooled with blood as he wheezed in short spurts. Miles leaned over him desperately, trying to stop the bleeding with his soaked-through beanie. 

Eddie looked ashen, the life drained from his face. His eyes were wide as they stared up at the ceiling, filled with horror and awe. He sputtered and coughed, his lungs struggling to keep the liquid out. Blood tinged his lips. 

“Eddie!” Honey yelped, dropping to her knees to bring her hands over Miles’s. 

It was like trying to hold back a river. All eyes were now on Eddie’s dire situation—Noir, Felicia, and Peni approaching quickly. Jess and Miguel looked on from the back of the car, both of them pausing momentarily from trying to assist Helen.

Miles gazed down at his savior, lip wobbling and hands shaking. “He... he pushed me outta the way. He-he saved me—” 

“Christ!” They heard Felicia curse as the silver-haired woman rushed over and touched Eddie’s pulse. Honey glanced at her, watching fear capture the fearless.

“We need help over here!” Peter called out, voice strained with panic that Honey had never heard from him before. He was winded with terror as his palms enveloped Miles’s, frantically working to stop the bleeding.

“Cho’s hurt bad,” Jessica called back. Beside her, Miguel was hooking his arms beneath the doctor’s legs, hoisting her up off the ground.

“It’s okay, we-we got this,” Honey called back. Hysteria slowly choked her. “I-I can fix this! I can patch him up!”

“But Helen—”

“I can do this!” Honey hissed, desperate tears spilling down her face. “I just need a-a med kit or... Sutures! I can sew it up, all she’s gotta do is walk me through it.” 

“Sweetie,” Felicia uttered under her breath. Honey froze in her gaze, her blue eyes glazed with tears. “She’s not even conscious...” 

She wore a mournful expression, condolences pouring silently from her mouth.

Honey would have none of it. Defiantly, she shook her head, lips pursed into a straight line. “I’ll figure it out myself!” she choked back a sob. “Just—somebody, get me the med kit! Get me—” Honey blocked out the worried stares that surrounded her. 

Instead, she focused on Eddie. She thought about cupcake frosting smeared across the scruff of his chin. His benevolent nature as he pulled in drags of smoke, offering peace to the world in return with each outward breath. She pictured his hazel-gray eyes weighed down by heavy bags and a lifetime of failures. Despite that, his eyes persevered to retain their brightness. 

He was tranquil amidst the turmoil of his life. Grateful despite his misfortune. In the middle of their war, he was a pacifist. A peacemaker. 

He saw everything. He saw Peter as a brother. He saw Honey as a friend. He saw both of them as worth saving.

And now she saw the light fading from his eyes. “I can do this,” she whimpered weakly, tears spilling down her face. “It’s okay. I can fix this.”

“Honey—”

She paused, feeling the featherlike brush of Peter’s breath across her face. Hesitantly, she met his sorrowful gaze, her heart aching at the sight of tears trailing down his cheeks. He was silent, fixing her earnestly with a knowing look. He didn’t have to say anything. She could read the hopelessness written on his face.

There was no fixing this. 

Somberly, they gazed at one another, both of them mirroring each other’s grief.

“S..ssay,” Honey heard a tiny voice whisper beneath her. She looked down to see Eddie looking up at her, teeth chattering. His lips were curved into a faint smile. “Wh—why the-the-the l-long face, N-nancy?”

It was like her heart literally ripped in half. She struggled to keep her sobs muted, clamping her mouth closed.

“Y-you... sh-should e-eat a Peanut Butter co-cookie, or so-somethin.’” He grinned wide, his teeth stained red. Tears dripped from her chin as she hiccuped out a small smile through her anguish. 

His eyes traveled from her face to Peter’s. Though he appeared more composed than Honey, Eddie knew what Peter looked like when he was in agony. 

“T-tha-thank y-you-u,” Eddie shivered, staring up at Peter with love in his eyes, “for s-saving my life.” 

Red-eyed, Peter winced like he’d swallowed glass. He breathed through his nose, afraid that if he opened his mouth his soul would spill out.

Eddie gazed at him with a lopsided, lazy grin. “Don’t b-be too ha-hard on yourself.” Another cough shook him, staining his lips even further. Peter released his hold on the wound to wrap Eddie’s hand in his fist. He held on tightly as if to steady him against a heavy current.

“M’mm-’m afraid to-to die, Pete,” Eddie said with a shaky voice. He faltered for a single moment. Fear prodded at him as each expansion of his chest became heavier. Each breath came up shorter than the last. 

Then, as stubborn as ever, he smirked with a flicker of light filling his glossy gaze. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he considered the irony. “Th-that’s-s gotta co-count for s-somethin’, right?”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, nodding tearfully in a silent reply. When he opened them again, the current was stronger. The light was fading as it began to pull him under. Peter and Honey gripped tighter, as if their resolve could hold him.

“S-s-so...” Eddie said, locking eyes with Peter. “Thank... you.”

Into the darkness, he drifted away.

Continue to Part 20

{back to the masterlist}

A/N Sorry for the tearjerker cliffhanger! This story is coming to a close in just a few chapters (maybe 3 or 4). Thank you for sticking with me this long. I hope that the next chapter will have everything you've ever dreamed of.

[thefairyletters]

NaruSaku Fanfics

I wouldn't say much – I love NaruSaku and I hate to see great works shadowed behind the piles of popular NS stories that I never have liked as much except for a few, which also I'll drop below in the list.

I'll update this list whenever I come across a story that I particularly enjoy or finds worth spreading word across. So be sure to like and reblog this post so you can revisit it to add new story in your reading pile later.

Also, genres vary and are not mentioned, but does it make any difference as long as the story is good?

Warning: super long post featuring beautiful, beautiful stories that you wouldn't regret reading. I swear. I'm positive. Contains SNS and other side pairings.

Without further ado;

How I fell in love with my best friend: Krapo || ff.net || M || complete

How the little blond boy Sakura had always known had changed, changing as well her feelings. The unfolding of their life, while Naruto worked to become the best Hokage and she faced her own emotions. Growing Love.

(I have nothing but upmost reverence for this story. This author writes one of the nest NS and I have loved all. NS is beautiful and Sakura is badass. Everything we already know is here and more.)

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Dangerous infiltration mission: Krapo || ff.net || M || complete

Naruto and Sakura are send by the Hokage for a difficult infiltration mission. They will have to face more than just the danger itself as they will have to keep their cover to be fake husband and wife credible. how it will impact the relationship between the two ninja. Growing Love. Misunderstanding.

(If you loved the aforementioned story, you'll love this one too. Mutual pining.)

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All over again: Krapo || ff.net || M || post-war || complete

Sasuke come back, Team seven is reunited. But Sakura has lost Naruto. How will she make him fall in love with her again? What other difficulties lies ahead of them?

(Naruto loses memory. SasuSaku angst but not in romantic sense and I loved it all. Misunderstanding and more mutual pining. And I'm in love with this story too.)

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Hit the floor running: Sakurablossom009 || A03 || M (but unnecessary) || Modern Hitman/Robbers AU || complete

Life was going great, Sakura thought. She was penniless, stranded in Europe without a way home, her fiancee had just dumped her for another woman AND her new companion was quite possibly a thief. How could things get any worse? Wait...was that guy pointing a gun at her?

(Now, personally, I don't prefer modern AU, but this story really had interesting characterisation and more character depth. NaruSaku is pretty spot on. It also features SasuHina and bamf!Hinata)

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The greatest pretenders: snowyseas || ff.net || M || Borutoverse || ongoing

Fifteen years is a long time to not talk to someone you consider your best friend, and is made even more difficult when they (and you) are married. The things Sakura should have confronted Naruto about never came to fruition, but as an old saying goes, "the truth will always be revealed".

(Your typical I-made-a-wrong-choice-but-now-can-be-done story but unlike many other stories in this they don't admit their love for each chapter at the first chapter itself. In fact, it feels so canon and you can almost superimpose it upon the canon. Sakura is mentally strong and knows what's right. )

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He was the sun: SavageTrickster || ff.net || T || Canonverse || ongoing

He had come a long way - from a lonely orphan ostracized by everyone to a loved hero. He deserved all these. His Hokage dream to come true. All the ramen he could eat. - Her eyes fell on a certain Hyuuga seated close enough for accidental touches. Her heart sank a little at a harsh whisper of reminder - And a deserving girl...who could give him all her love.

(So far so good. It's ongoing, and is at chapter 3. Sakura leaves Konoha much like how Naruto did, to explore the world aka seeing my headcanon in writing.)

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Wilderness: Kanji no Sakka || M || canondivergent || ongoing

As the war screeches to a temporary halt, Naruto leaves the battlefield on a unique mission only he can complete. Sakura is ordered to go with him. In the days that follow their bond is changed forever.

(Although I hate any explicit stories that involve characters below age 17, I give this a pass because of the uniqueness of plot and characterisation. It has fine lemons that comes with a good plot.)

.

How It Should Have Been: OfPaintAndOil || ff.net || T || canon divergent || oneshot

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Sasuke was supposed to be the dark one, the unredeemable one. Naruto was the bright one, the good one. It wasn't supposed to be like this, with blood on his hands and glowing red eyes and a grin. Naruto was supposed to make everything better, and maybe he did, in the end, but Sakura had never expected the end to look quite like this.

(Featuring Yandere!Naruto. It leaves you wanting for more and is a fascinating read. It's dark themed so proceed with caution as your favorite character might or might not be dead.)

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The Best Dates are the Cheap Ones: Shivakashi || ff.net || T || post!Timeskip || Oneshot

The whole point was to get the best date; that meant the richest and classiest guy, right? Sakura realizes what she has taken for granted and Ino learns a lesson in value.

(Sakura learns her lesson and snatches her boy. InoNaru is worth noting. Not the best characterisation of Sakura but bear with her jealousy for that is the reason why NS fluff exists. Story itself is very light and entertaining.)

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mangoes and strawberries: ohthelinsanity || ff.net || T || postwar || oneshot

Sakura Haruno was elbow deep in Naruto Uzumaki's guts when he asked her to marry him. It was so not the right time. But she still said yes.

(This story just screams NS upon every single line. Diabetes warning. Too cute for this world. One of the best NS fluff I've read thus far. It kinda sticks to you forever!)

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18 minutes, 23 seconds: ohthelinsanity || ff.net || T || postwar || oneshot

in which Naruto asks Sakura about that time she literally reached into his chest and grabbed his heart with her bare hand.

(Heartwarming. We all know how Sakura held Naruto's heart on her palms and how we love that moment. This is memory of that moment reminisced by our cutie pies.)

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One Big Uzumaki Family: John Smith || ff.net || T || postwar || Complete

A set of drabbles revolving around Naruto, Sakura, and their children. It turns out that, when the war ends, these two get busy. Real busy.

(IF YOU DON'T READ THIS MASTERPIECE HOW DARE YOU CALL YOURSELF NS FAN?!!! READ!!! This story should be on the top of your reading list.

UNDERRATED AF!

R e a d t h i s s t o r y and cry with me for this should have been canon. 100%)

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My Life Would Suck Without You: peanutbutter126 || ff.net || T || oneshot collection

Sometimes it's the smallest things that matter the most.

(Read this and then One big Uzumaki family. You'll feel super satisfied. I promise.)

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Colors and Carousels: Folle Sakura || ff.net || T || oneshot

She couldn't count the number of times she'd been mistaken for Naruto's girlfriend. Not that she minded. But Naruto acted like it was so… so… offensive.

(No words for this one. Just read and enjoy the confusion.)

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Let's Get Married: luvtoshi || ff.net || M || postwar || complete

It was supposed to be a simple solution to their immediate problems. But maybe they took more than they can chew?

(This is one of my few favorites that is also popular. Spot on characterization and beautiful relationship growth. This is one of the few stories that always stuck to me.)

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Chasing Smoke with Bare Hands: soulaire || ff.net || T || oneshot

"I could have loved her," Sasuke says flatly. "If she'd just given me the chance—" "Sakura gave you all the chances in the world," Kakashi cuts in, stern. "You underestimated her. And you underestimated her ability to walk away from you. At the core of it all, that's where things went wrong."

(This story is for those who loves both SS and NS but thinks Sakura deserves happier life than what she got in canon. Features NS and slight SS.)

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Touch: ohthelinsanity || ff.net || T || oneshot

Kakashi watches as his student grow to be more physically comfortable with one another. He finds it kinda ridiculous.

(Fluff. Feelings. Kakashi's fed up and might have diabetes from all the observation.)

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Moonlight shadows: luvtoshi || ff.net || T || oneshot

Sometimes, the moon brings out hidden feelings to the surface.

(Beautiful literature. NS feels. You can almost mistake it for canon with the way characters are written.)

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Seriously Serious: Damsel in Shining Armor || ff.net || T || modern AU || oneshot

He confessed to her when they first met. He confessed to her years after. He confessed to her almost everyday. Her response was almost always positive... So why the heck was he still single? "I love you." "Love you too. So is Sasuke-kun taken or not?"

(The only reason why I even picked this story is that it is a oneshot. I have very little interest in modern AU. But this one makes another exception. Pining. Love at first sight.)

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It was always you: luvtoshi || ff.net || M || postwar || complete

The war is long over. They have both grown. Now it's time to conclude their story. Naruto and Sakura.

(You know what, all stories from this author are just, Chef's kiss. )

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A Safe Pair of Hands: Kanji no Sakka || ff.net || T || oneshot

Sakura heeds a stern warning to make it clear how she feels about Naruto.

(Feels. You'll love this if you like first person pov. This story told from Sakura's pov.)

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Other Dreams: tricksie || ff.net || M || oneshot

"Naruto, you shouldn't endanger yourself—" "Stop it," he snapped. Dropping his arm to hook under her seat, Naruto pulled her firmly onto his hip, locking her to him. Sakura gasped, suddenly aware of just how very close they were.

(Sexual tension. Romance. Leaves you wanting. Also, high on feels and lust on equal measure.)

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Heaven Unexpected: Folle || ff.net || M || oneshot

Because nothing can happen; it's Naruto. He always comes back. He's practically indestructible.

(Heavy on feels. There are chances that it might rain. Actually there are high chances. But oh well, it's beautiful and one of my favourites so here it goes.)

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Shade of the Leaf: Ravyn || ff.net || T || canon divergent || complete

Sasuke is back. Naruto has joined ANBU. Sakura is spending more time in the hospital than in the field. Team 7 struggles to redefine itself, because sometimes you don't know what you really want after all.

(Featuring Mature but still in-character!Naruto, Badass!Sakura, (Bit)Supportive!Sasuke along with Team 7 friendship. Mutual pining. Ending but with a lot loose ends.)

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Breaking Up Isn't that Hard to Do: Narf-for-the-Garthoc || ff.net || T || oneshot

This is not an epic tale of action, suspense and true love. Yeah, I'm disappointed, too.

(This is pure comedy. With a dash of romance. And insanity.)

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Steamy Encounters: Narf-for-the-Garthoc || ff.net || T || oneshot

A flurry of coincidences and fateful machinations bring Naruto and Sakura together at the local baths. Can they rein in their animal passions? And do you really think that's the kind of story I write?

(Just r e a d. Please.)

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Garden of Sanctuary: Nes Mikel || ff.net || T || Canon divergent || oneshot

An alternate ending to Naruto. The Heavens describe the Garden a peaceful paradise. The Hells describe the Garden a baneful prison. In here... which is it?

(This is part of a series which you can follow from the author's profile. This is the second part, but can be read exclusively. As far as the AU goes, this story and settings is brilliant and heartbreaking. This is told from Naruto's pov. To look at things from Sakura's, read the first part. It is multi-chaptered.)

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Complications: Geno Calamari || ff.net || T || canon divergent || oneshot

While capturing the Kyuubi, Uchiha Itachi finds true adversaries in the form of Haruno Sakura and Uzumaki Naruto.

(Wanna see NaruSaku teamwork? This is it! You wouldn't find it anywhere better. Strong!Naruto, Strong!Sakura versus Itachi Uchiha)

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Life is a waving feather: jusrecht || AO3 || T || AU || oneshot

Everyone thought they were inevitable.

(There's beauty in subtlety and this is that. Also, mentions of character death.)

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Home: kirabook || AO3 || T || AU || complete

Shinachiku finds himself in a strange place with little to no explanation. Everyone he knows is there, but why are they acting so strangely? Why do they seem so different? And where is his home? 

(Cute and heartwrenching at the same time. Cameo Stalker. Read this for NS family feels pre-marriage.)

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Things we never say: thekatthatbarks || AO3 || T || oneshot

She wished she knew how to hold things lightly. There were some things she was terrified of breaking. Whether it be from an honest misstep or simply because she could.

(Reminds you why we love NS so much.)

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Open seasons: sazzafraz || AO3 || T || SNS || postwar || oneshot

The way Sasuke comes home is less myth and more devastatingly embarrassing happenstance.

(Featuring badass!Sakura, obedient!Naruto and normal!Sasuke, as well as Sakura's commentary on her life)

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Five things Sakura will never tell Naruto: sowell || AO3 || T || AU || oneshot

Kunoichi know how to keep their secrets.

(NS relationship analysis story.)

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Artistic purposes: StormyInk || AO3 || M || AU || Oneshot

Sai finds his favorite drawing subjects a bit lacking of late, and he sets a plan into motion to draw his team mates together. Simply for the sake of his art, of course.

(Aka Sai is fed up from seeing his teammates dancing around each other and decides to help them get laid–the story. You gotta admit Sai is the best wingman.)

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I collect my tears (so I can drown you in them): amako || AO3 || T || AU || complete

The hardest thing is letting go. Or Sakura sees Naruto falling in love with Shikamaru a little more every day, and she does the only thing she can think of. Then it's only a matter of learning how to stop loving Naruto.

(Sakura and Angst that has nothing to do with Sasuke. Featuring Sakura-sensei. And Shikamaru. It's a great story if you know when to let go of canon)

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Stranger than the wild: kiddattwell || AO3 || M || SNS || postwar || Ongoing

The war is over and Sasuke is home for good, but Sakura can't choose between the boys she loves. Sasuke still has his demons and Naruto still fights them and Sakura still follows them both, but this time down a path that none of them expected.

(This is canon. It is the best SNS story I've ever read. Story told in SNS POV in rotation. Slow burn, pining and relationship complication. YOU GOTTA READ THIS, I INSIST!!!! Also features SaiIno and InoShika.)

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Bringing Back Sasuke: Blue Jeans || ff.net || T || post war || oneshot

Naruto brings Sasuke back to Sakura. Many, many times over. Sasuke does not appreciate; not the blood and definitely not the angst.

(I've read this story multiple times and it gets funnier and makes your heart hurt and swell simultaneously each time. NaruSaku wouldn't be blissfully happy together without Sasuke thrown somewhere in the mix, that's exactly why I love SNS. This story perfectly represents the dynamic of team 7.)

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Yurei: Kanji no Sakka || ff.net || T || AU || oneshot

The past should stay dead and buried, but it won't if Naruto can't let go.

(Not exactly my favourite story, but I liked the concept. We all know how stubborn Naruto is once decides on something. If he wants to become Hokage, he will become Hokage. If he believes in Sasuke, he will believe in him forever. If he loves Sakura, he will marry her – uh, or should have, very OCC of him that he didn't.)

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Tag NS fan you know so they don't miss any of this!

[yourmidnightlover]

rock

Summary - spencer wants to figure out what's wrong with you, only to be reminded what day it is and he remembers why you've been so distant.

TW: talk abt: rape, recovery, therapy, case stuff; mention of: drug addiction, rape, miscarriage, being shot, death lol

WC - 4,283

!DISCLAIMER! - i am in no way trying to romanticize recovery from a traumatic event or being upset/depressed/anxious. this is kinda my way of getting through my own issues, so please don't think that's what i'm trying to do in any way. i also don’t know how i feel abt this ending since i wrote it so long ago but oh well!

i just realized there are a few spoilers so i'll put *asterisks* around them. those parts are just explaining how the reader's always there for the team.

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you had always been the rock in spencer's life.

mentally, at least.

when he had nobody there for him when he was going through his addiction with dilaudid, there you were. you helped him through it when everybody else on the team acted as if they never noticed.

you were the one that encouraged him to get help, and pushed him to follow through. you made sure he ate and talked to someone when he had his urges again, even if it wasn't you.

you let him come over and cry about what had happened, and how unfair his life was. you consoled him and would tell him how nothing was his fault. how he didn't deserve anything bad in his life.

*and when emily 'died', he went to your house every day. you held him as he felt himself falling apart from losing her. you didn't even worry about yourself needing to be consoled, because spencer needed you to be there for him.

*when she came back you were the one to convince him to forgive her. you talked sense into him. you reminded him how much he pleaded to have her back, and then he did. so he managed to forgive her... because of you and your logic.

*and you weren't just there for spencer. while, yes, you made a special effort to be there for him, you were there for everyone on the team.

*when derek was arrested back in chicago and the team found out about his past, you were the one he leaned on for comfort. you and penelope. you let him cry on your shoulder and yell at you about how twisted a man would have to be to do something so cruel to a child.

*when jj was kidnapped and beaten to a miscarriage, you were the first she told. you didn't say anything. you knew there was nothing you could say that would relinquish the pain of losing a child. so you let her cry. you let her hug you for what felt like hours. you let her grief her unborn baby for as long as she needed.

*when penelope was shot, nobody cared to check up on her after the fact except you. you went to her apartment for weeks just to make sure she was okay. eventually, she was able to let loose all of her frustrations on you, and you took it like a champ. she ranted about how she just wanted to be loved by someone attractive and how unfair and cruel the world is, in spite of how much good she tries to bring into it.

*when hotch lost hailey, you took care of his files. you offered to watch henry and let hotch cry to you about losing her a few times once you broke past his tough exterior. you even cried with him and jack. you made them dinner whenever you could, and helped him look for good nannies to help care for jack.

*when rossi lost carolyn, you went to her grave with him on many occasions. you brought him his favorite scotch, which was very pricey, and his favorite cigars, also very pricey, and tried your best to recreate 'the rossi special' upon his directions. it helped him feel in control of something when he needed it.

*and when emily came back from the dead, you helped walk her through her own grief. she lost herself, and buried her emotions. you helped her dig up her old self, and grow into an even better woman. you even took care of her cat when penelope couldn't manage. you helped emily grieve her own death when she wanted to deny it ever happened, and she was forever grateful for you.*

you had become like the team's built-in therapist when something bad happened, and you loved it that way. you loved being the one the team went to when they needed it. it made you feel as though you had a purpose, which was something you desperately needed.

but when you went through your own trauma almost a year ago, you refused help from anyone. you knew you should've asked someone for help, or at least someone to cry or talk to when you needed to.

the team had been working on a case for longer than expected, 8 days now, and everyone was really frustrated. you had released the profile 7 days ago, and there was still no new information. it was as if the unsub had gone dormant, and you all couldn't bear that thought.

when the team released earlier than normal from the precinct and you all went to the hotel you had been staying at, you decided to get a drink from the bar quickly. you went alone, wanting to review a few of the case files during the process and not needing a distraction.

you ordered a jack and coke, and opened the case files to begin rereading them, seeing if you had missed anything.

victims were kept for 24 hours, filmed, raped, restrained, cut in pieces, and thrown in the trash like garbage. it was absolutely disgusting, and the worst you had seen in a while. the victims were low-risk and most of them had a place of authority.

the unsub had been profiled to be someone who was bossed around by a woman, narcissistic and egotistical, wanted to feel more power and authority.

the problem is, that profile was most people living in the area. even penelope couldn't dwindle down the suspects.

and alas, you had missed nothing. nothing new appeared or caught your eye. you gulped down the rest of your drink and paid for it before packing up your things to head upstairs. you tossed the file back into your bag and began the trek to the elevator.

you were interrupted by something hitting the top of your head, rendering you unconscious.

the team had woken up, and after waiting around for half an hour, spencer realized something was wrong. he had morgan bust into your room, only to find the bed unslept in. you were missing. and the worst part... you fit the unsubs type.

spencer felt his heart drop at the realization he had taken you. and it seemed as though there was no trail as to where you had gone. penelope checked the cameras, only to find that they were hacked right after you left the bar, and then they resumed after you were taken.

at least they had a time frame.

later that day, after everyone hasting to figure something, anything out, spencer had gotten an email. he opened it and expected it to be relentless spam, only to realize it was a live feed video. a video of you. he instantly called penelope in hopes that she could trace it.

she said she could, but it would take some time because the amount of routers it had been going through.

while they were waiting, you noticed you were alone. you knew who the unsub was too, thanks to his baffling stupidity and narcissism that lead him to believe he wouldn't get caught.

"officer johnson! it's officer johnson!" you looked around the camera for a second, noticing something moving. "he-he here," you cried out. "i love you," you said to the camera to nobody in particular, but someone in mind.

you were terrified. spencer could see it in your eyes. he could see the tears you tried not to shed. you didn't want to please him, but you couldn't help but feel the absolute horror and fear coursing through your body at a relentless pace.

"hi there, missus fbi," he teased, finally walking into the frame with a ski mask over his face, clearly not aware that we knew his identity.

spencer told garcia who he was, and she began her digging. officer johnson's great grandparents had owned a farm that was since then refurbished. it was an hour away.

officer johnson had known that you two had chemistry. that's why he sent the email to spencer. he saw the longing glares, the 'innocent' touches, the smiles you would give each other, the longing looks you shared. he wanted to torment him.

so when he began undressing you and you turned your face away from the camera in hopes of sparing some of your own dignity, spencer felt his heart breaking for you. it broke even more when he heard the yelps, and screams, and please, and "no!'s" you elicited during the act.

they caught him before he cut you, but not before he finished the first part of his plan. your skirt was ripped, and your shirt was practically in two pieces. spencer had given you his jacket to cover yourself as much as you could.

you stayed silent the ride back. you didn't even let spencer hold you like you normally would after a tough case. you were ashamed. embarrassed. you felt worthless. you felt pathetic. you felt stupid. you felt helpless. you felt like you were drowning. you felt like you were without a life raft.

you knew you could talk to the team about it, but you felt so disgusted by the thought of what happened to you that you only talked about it in your therapy sessions.

hotch had given you two months off. he wanted you to grieve, and go to therapy, and try to cope with everything that had happened.

and you did try to do that. you tried your hardest to get over it and move past it, but nothing helped. not the journaling. not the talking. not the crying. nothing was working.

spencer gave you a little space at first, but he then decided to try to help you as you had helped him. he went over to your house almost every day, and sat outside your door after you wouldn't let him in.

you knew he was there... you sat on the other side.

"i-i know that you probably don't want to see anyone right now. and i'm uh, i'm sure you feel alone right now, or like you can't talk to anyone," spencer sniffled. "but pl-please just uhm, just know that i'm here when you want to talk about it. i'm here to listen to you when you need me to. i-i don't want you to be alone during this time, y/n. please, just let me in," he begged.

that was normally what he would say almost every night he went to your house. he would sit outside for hours after he would ask you to let him in without fail. until one day you let him in.

spencer felt so much relief when you opened the door, only for it to be smashed when he noticed your eyes looked red and puffy, your cheeks were stained with the tears you had been crying for so long. your cheeks were sunken in, and there were dark circles underneath your eyes that were once full of life and happiness. your eyes no longer had that gorgeous sparkle in them.

spencer vowed he would get them back.

as much as spencer wanted to wrap his arms around you in that moment, to comfort you and tell you that he was there, he wanted you to make the first move. he wanted to tell you how strong you were and how proud of you he was for getting through that. he wanted to tell you how much he loved you.

he wanted you to make the first touch, because he didn't want to further upset you. he didn't want to trigger a repressed memory, or bring back the feelings of what had happened.

but spencer's touch was nothing like the officer's. spencer's touch was soft and gentle. spencer's touch was feather-light and endearing. spencer's touch was love and home. the officer's was brittle, and rough, and repulsive.

"hug me?" you sniffled as your eyes welled with tears again as they had been for the past three weeks.

"of course," spencer slowly wrapped his arms around your shoulders as yours found his torso.

he walked inside with you still in his arms and slowly shut the door. without breaking from the hug, you both walked to the couch and sat down.

you didn't say anything. you just needed spencer to keep hugging you, so he did. he did whatever you wanted, needed, from him. eventually, you fell asleep in his embrace on the couch.

when spencer looked down at you, now sleeping against his chest, he couldn't bring his heart to remove himself from you. so like any whipped man would do, he carefully picked you up bridal styled and carried you to your room. he took his shoes off as well as his sweater vest before cuddling back up next to you.

as if it was a reflex, you cuddled up into his chest when he neared you again and got underneath the covers. spencer slept the best he did in months with you. and you slept without officer johnson in your dreams for the first time since that day.

ever since then, spencer had been making sure you were eating and drinking. he took you to your therapy sessions and stayed over most nights you had asked and he was able to.

they had a few cases during the two months, so every moment he could, spencer was with you. he coaxed you back to your normal-ish self. he watched as that glimmer in your eye began to slowly grow brighter everyday. he watched as your smile came back, and your tears didn't come so frequently.

the first time he had heard you laugh again, spencer had thought he was dreaming. he wished he had recorded that moment. he was more grateful than he's ever been in his life that he had an eidetic memory, because that sound would forever be engraved in his brain.

when you returned to work, you clung to spencer. he had become your tether to reality, and hope. he had become your rock during the recovery.

over the months, everyone slowly began to forget what had even happened. things went on as usual, and the team forgot the traumatic experience you had gone through. even spencer might've let the experience get lost in his brain.

so when it became 11 months and 3 weeks since the abduction, you began to distance yourself once again.

you politely declined going out with the team a couple days before the anniversary, something you never did. you insisted that you were just especially worn out from the case you had just been on.

spencer had to finish files given to him by derek anyway, so he didn't get to witness the encounter.

once the day of the anniversary came upon you, you found yourself feeling sick to your stomach. you couldn't help the tears that would fall from your face every so often. you knew why you felt this way, but you wanted to push past it.

you had gone into the office wearing a pantsuit and blazer, wanting to avoid the normal office skirt you happened to be wearing the day it happened. you stayed at your desk and quietly did your case files. you didn't even greet spencer as you would every day. you gave him a kind smile, but you would normally give him a hug, or at the very least an eager wave upon his arrival.

spencer just assumed it was one of those days where you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. it wasn't spencer's fault he thought this. he didn't even look at his calendar to check what day it was. he just knew they had paperwork.

but he did have this day marked in his calendar. he had it marked so he would remember to be extra kind to you, and do your files for you, and come to your place with your favorite wine and takeout. he wanted to help you through the one year anniversary, but he forgot to check his stupid calendar.

you thought he didn't care. you thought the man who you loved, and the man who helped you through everything that had happened had had enough of your complaining and grievances. so, you didn't tell him about it. you didn't bother him with the terrible thoughts clouding your mind because you thought it'd burden him.

so when you finished all of your case files early, you asked hotch if you could leave early, at 2:00, because you had things to tend to. he allowed you to do so, but this rose a flag for spencer.

he saw you exit without saying goodbye to him, something you hadn't done the entirety of knowing him. you had always told everyone to have a nice night and to be safe before leaving, but not today.

finally, he looked at his phone for the first time all day, only to feel like the worst person in the world to realize what day it was. spencer felt absolutely horrible at this revelation and ran into hotch's office as quick as he could after packing his things.

"hotch!" he exclaimed upon opening his office door.

"go. she was practically in tears," hotch informed him. "and reid," spencer stopped in his tracks to turn and look at the stern man, "please make sure she's okay." spencer gave him a soft grin and a nod before turning around and bolting out of the office.

you had gotten home and immediately burst into tears. you shut the door with your back, and slid down it. you had never understood why people had done that in movies until now. you just couldn't wait to break any longer, so you settled for your front door.

you held back no wail, or scream as you cried in front of your door, your knees pulled up to your chest as you held them tightly.

you wondered why you had to go through that. you wanted to know what kind of karma there was for someone who had always tried to do the right thing to be hurt... and for nobody to even care. nobody wanted to console you, or to make sure you were alright.

you had checked up on everyone on every anniversary of their struggles. whether it be a death, abduction, anything, you had been there for every single anniversary or reminder. and nobody was there for you.

nobody was there for you to hug, or to lean on, or to cry to, or to scream at, or to rant to. nobody was there. nobody loved you enough to care about that.

but then you had to remind yourself that they all had lives.

but the person who is your life didn't even care.

spencer didn't care.

and that's why you truly lost it.

he acted like it was just another day. he acted like it wasn't the anniversary of the day you thought you were going to die. the day you wanted to die. the day you felt your most low, and humiliated. the day you lost all hope. and he didn't remember.

if the man with an eidetic memory didn't remember, it must be extremely insignificant. so therefore, you must be extremely insignificant.

spencer raced to your house. he wanted to be there for you today, and he failed. he felt like a failure as a friend. he hated himself for not being there for you when he knew you would need him. he knew how you clung to him in your time of need. you thought he was worthy enough to hold onto when you needed someone, and spencer felt elated at that.

but now he wasn't there for you. and you needed him.

he had quickly stopped by the store and your favorite takeout place to get the things you'd want. he got your wine, chocolate, food, flowers, and a teddy bear that had a sweater vest on him - you've always loved his sweater vests.

when he got to the steps of your house, he felt his heart drop. as he walked closer he heard the wails of your crying right by the door. he could sense the heartache from the edge of your porch, and felt himself feel even worse, which he didn't think was possible.

he instantly ran to the door and knocked profusely. you sniffled one last time, feeling embarrassed that someone had heard you crying your heart out. you had figured one of your neighbors heard you and wanted to tell you to keep it down, so you wiped your tears and the stray mascara from underneath your eyes and opened the door, keeping your eyes lowered in embarrassment.

"y/n," spencer announced sadly, a tear falling down his face. you looked up in confusion from hearing his voice. you noticed his tear and reached up to wipe it away on instinct.

"why're you crying? are you okay?" you asked, forgetting all of your own problems at the sight of spencer crying. spencer let out a small chuckle at your concern.

"i'm alright, aside from the fact that i'm a terrible friend," he admitted as his smile quickly faded upon seeing your stained cheeks. "i brought your favorites," he offered, holding the bag of goodies in one hand and the takeout in another.

"y-you... why?" you asked, wanting to make sure you weren't misreading the situation for him trying to comfort you.

"why?" he asked in disbelief. "because it's the anniversary. i can't tell you how sorry i am, y/n. i swear i marked it on my calendar and planned for us to take off so i could take care of you. i-i just woke up late and never bothered to even check my phone. i kn-know it's no excuse... but i am so, so, so sorry," he rambled out, already tearing up.

you grabbed his arm gently and pulled him inside before you started crying in front of your neighbors. you took the bags from his hands and placed them on your coffee table.

"i thought you just didn't care," you shrugged as you took a seat on the couch, prompting him to sit beside you.

"y/n..." he sighed as he realized how terrible he screwed up. "i will always care about this. i will always care about you. don't ever think differently. i'm just incredibly... dumb sometimes. i can't believe i made you think that," he trailed on. "i will never not care about you, y/n. i swear it. i will always, always care about you. i will always love you," he froze as he realized what he just revealed. your eyes widened, and squinted, and roamed his face, trying to figure out if he meant the words he had just sped out. "i truly do, y/n. i i’m in love with you and i'm so sorry i made it seem otherwise."

it took you a second to absorb everything that he had said.

"you too," you solemnly admitted. "i’m in love with you too. and i could forgive you... for almost forgetting," you gave him a small smile.

"i'm glad you could forgive me. i don't know what i'd do if you didn't," he relished. "you actually love me?" you nodded with a small smile.

"i have for a while," you turned your head to the bags on the table.

"oh! right!" he said, reaching for the gifts. "i got your favorite takeout, your favorite wine, your favorite chocolates, flowers, and..." he trailed on as he revealed each item. "i saw this teddy, and i couldn't resist," he smiled.

you took the bear, taking in its appearance. it had a light blue, navy, and white diamond pattern sweater vest and brown shoes on. it looked like spencer, just teddy bear form. you smiled widely at the sentiment.

"it's you," you grinned as you took it in your arms, hugging it tightly as you saw spencer nodded with a smile mirroring that of your own. "i love it," you chuckled.

"i would understand, the fur is really soft," he relished in the thought.

"i don't think he'd be as good of a cuddler as the real thing, though," you grimaced. "but he'll do for when i don't have you here i guess," you shrugged with a smile.

"i plan on being here as long as you'll let me," he said softly.

"always," you grinned, setting down the teddy bear and trading him for the real spencer reid.

"always," he repeated, taking you in his arms and squeezing you tightly as if you'd float away at any moment. "now let's dig into this food while you talk about your feelings, if you want that is," he said after releasing you from the hug.

"i think i want to," you nodded. "and spence?" he turned from getting the food out of the bag to look at you for a second. "thank you for being my rock through all of this."

"i'll always be your rock, y/n."

@averyhotchner  @greenprisca  @muffin-cup

[illyaana]

Credits to @breakingpengui1 to the Tendou fanart! Do check them out, I stalked them for almost two hours- ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

Fantasy Collab by @bluebellhairpin

God I'm sorry it took so long TwT I wanted to make this really good so TwT (don't think I did it) Do check out the other works involved!! I am also thinking of making this a three-part series 'cause I have some ideas on this and I took way to long on this, so let me know if you want me to do it!!

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Tags: Fantasy AU, Soulmate AU, Fluff, Angst, Royal! Y/N x Werewolf! Tendou

Word Count: 2611

There was a time when the world of the supernatural was one of peace and harmony.

Magia, the realm of magic and the supernatural being, was one filled with mysteries and beauty.

Plants would dance to the rhythm made by the woodland creatures. Fairies and elves would sing songs in praise of the wondrous views and people who nurtured the lands and made it the beauty it was today.

Mermaids and the life under the wide oceans and seas shared the riches of the water with those on land to make both worlds something to gaze upon.

Yet, it all changed when humans found something within them.

Greed and Pride - the recipe to the fall of Magia.

Now, the land of the supernatural isn’t like the ones stated in fairy tales and stories by the Grimm Brothers of Hans Christen Andersen.

It is one where sins are not shunned but encouraged.

Kings and queens interfere with the peace once built by the people to become one of villainy and devilish intentions - pillaging and conquering lands to become stronger and “better”.

The ones labelled “magical” or “not human” were either killed or hidden far away, never to be seen once again.

You were born into this - this world filled with anguish and pain.

You were born to be on the top of the food chain - to rule a twisted and dark country: Thelphs.

“Y/N, don’t writhe in pain. You are next-in-line for the throne - a simple wound like this should not make you fall.”

“Y/N, a leader never hides away from death - they face it and make it their weapon.”

“Hold your sword higher! You need the correct angle to slice through someone cleanly!”

“Do not taint the name of Thelphs, young one - death is not the thing you should be worried of but me.”

“If you don’t win, you are no longer my kin.”

Your father’s words rang in your head as you reached the land of Aldis - the land that never fell to the wants of humanity and shunned it.

Aldis protected the supernatural world. They were the ones who held onto the desire to make Magia what it was many, many years ago.

It was known for the beauty it held - the flowers were said to sing songs every day and every night and the mountains shook the ground once a month to say thank you to their valiant effort in protecting what the world of Magia should be.

And yet here you are; leading a line of men wielding swords and cannons aplenty to kill the very thing the world should be.

“Onward,” you shouted as you and your man marched down the stone roads of Aldis, “Fight, my people - fight for Thelphs, fight for your King!”

You pulled the sword sheathed in your belt and pointed towards the land before you. Soon, an uproar formed from the men behind you as you all marched towards the lines of houses.

You begged your humanity to hide as you wielded the weapon in your hand and slashed through hundreds of innocent people.

You begged your ears to close just for a few hours so that the screams of children could not enter as you pillaged their homes, reaping all their goods.

You felt the ground shake below you, trying its best to stop you from killing any more living things, yet you couldn’t.

A haze formed in front of your eyes, hiding all of your caring sides. You could only feel bloodlust - the need to slaughter and to feel the blood of others on you.

It was no use. Your feet, despite being on a moving floor, were still holding on to the ground, The grip you hand on your sword didn’t loosen and tightened.

If you were meant to be a machine designed to kill, you needed to carry out your job properly to ensure you aren’t thrown away.

The fairies soon came to attack you and your men, but you couldn’t kill it.

It was the first time you saw one that had magical abilities. The beauty it held entranced you.

Their wings were translucent. The light that hit it would change colour thanks to the dust that left its wings, forming somewhat of a halo around them. Their hair reached the very bottom of their legs. It swished back and forth as they flew towards you.

A pang was felt in your heart when you remembered your father’s words.

He said the fairies were ones who never cared about humans and instead mooch humans to live.

They were pests that needed to be killed, according to him.

But they are fighting alongside humans right now to protect their homes.

It was clear your father’s words were far from the truth, yet you needed to follow his wants, his needs.

You begged your limbs to move on their own so that you didn’t feel the piles of flesh go through your blade.

But you couldn’t.

You had to stay conscious through all the pain and misery you were giving to those who didn’t even deserve it.

The mixture of both human and fairy blood soaked your inner shirt, forever staining it.

The once grey tiles that covered the floor of Aldis now are forever painted red, and it was thanks to your orders.

You walked through the mountains of bodies, the blood streaming from them staining your shoes.

This was your fault.

This was all your fault.

You looked up to the sky, praying for the rain to fall and wash away your sins, but you could only see the clear, blue sky staring back at you. The clouds moved slowly through the pale blue background midst hiding the Sun’s blinding light away from you.

Semi, your commander soon stood beside you.

“My liege-”

“I killed them - I killed angel-like fairies. I killed humans, I made the ground shake - literally - and I killed the first-ever fairy I have seen. How did my father do this and still walk around Thelphs with no regrets?”

“Y/N...” Semi said, trying to console you.

But you could only laugh.

This.

This is what it means to be human- to kill those who don’t deserve to be killed.

“I can’t handle this anymore, Semi. I want to end this - all of this - so badly, yet I can’t even fight my own father.”

You turned your face to look at your childhood friend.

He too felt the same way you did - his eyes said everything.

Behind the coffee-coloured eyes hid guilt, sorrow and pain.

His face filled with the dust and smoke from the bombs that your men slung to this land. Yet, some streaks were starting from his eyes to the ends of his chin that were clean. Blood dripped from the top of his forehead down to his lips, leaving half of his face coloured in crimson.

Your thoughts rang clearly after looking at the man before you.

It was no longer about wanting to end it, you had to.

You placed your hand on his shoulder, “I will end this, Semi - this unneeded suffering and killings - I’ll end it all.”

He gave a teary smile to you. “Please, Y/N. I don’t think I can do this until I die.”

You pulled a handkerchief you kept in your pocket and proceeded to wipe the blood off his face.

“I can’t, too. This guilt,” you shook slightly, tears threatening to fall, “This guilt is too much to bear.”

He raised his hand and wiped off the tears.

“My liege, you need to be strong. We’re going to face the people we’ve committed countless sins against. Impersonate the devil - be the evil person you aren’t to protect the name of Thelphs.”

He took the blood-soaked handkerchief from your hand and threw it to the floor, “After all, what but devils would do what we did?”

Your heart broke at the words muttered by the man before you.

He was the furthest thing from a devil.

He was the man who comforted you when you were crying.

He was the man who took your pain and gave you nothing but light and joy.

Yet he stood in front of you - covered in blood both his and others with a strong resolve.

You stared at him, anger flaring in your orbs.

“You are the furthest thing from a devil, Semi Eita. But, we are controlled by one. Innocent ones like you should have never fallen into his tricks.”

He was taken aback by what you said. Tears soon fell from his eyes, sobs that he hid from you all these years came flowing like an endless howl.

He placed his head against the corner of your neck. Your shirt slowly began taking in his tears as they trickled down your neck.

You wrapped your arms around his figure. It was your time to comfort him.

Once he stopped crying, he wiped his tears and gripped your shoulders. “We need to go to the riverbank now.”

You nodded and let Semi lead you to the body of water.

You saw how the people tried to protect themselves from your men. They formed a circle with the younger ones in the middle. The ones on the circumference of the circle gripped on their small blades as they threatened your armoured soldiers.

They cared for each other.

The strong wanted to protect the weak; they were willing to sacrifice their lives so that the legacy of Aldis lived on through the young.

“Bring out the carriages,” you told your men. They immediately nodded and proceeded to follow the orders issued.

You turned to the people you’ve captured. A smile managed to reach your lips as they looked at your figure with fear.

“I do not wish any harm on you. We’re just going to make all of you line up and bring you to Thelphs - that is it,” you finished.

Most of them nodded in fear, yet there was one who refused to listen.

His hands had burned aplenty, instantly telling you that he was an ironsmith. He wasn’t rich - the clothes he wore were tattered, many of the holes were formed through his hours in iron crafting, presumably. Yet, you didn’t doubt his skill in fighting. The way he held the sword spoke more than words. The way his fingers comfortably wrapped around the leather handle made you feel some sort of pride within.

He was a person of valour and determination.

In almost seconds, he lunged in your direction.

You didn’t want to take out your sword. It felt like the man needed to hurt you in some way to make himself feel relaxed.

You gripped on the handle of your sword but didn’t have the heart to pull it out of your sheath.

You closed your eyes, waiting for the small tip of the blade to pierce through your skin. You wanted to feel your skin tear from the man’s undying resolve.

But it never came.

Instead, you heard the clashing of metal against metal.

Semi had rushed to protect you using his shield.

He stared at you, anger visible in his eyes.

“You made me a promise, Y/N. Don’t you dare take the easy way out.”

You could only smile and nod at the ash grey-haired male in front of you.

You teared your gaze from Semi to the man before you.

The disappointment and vengeance in him began to grow. The flame he once held within grew into a blazing fire.

“Why? Why attack us?” he began.

“We did nothing to you. We protected ourselves and helped others who needed us. We never bothered Thelphs - not even once, so why?”

You couldn’t reply - your morals would’ve gotten the best of you.

“Chain them all to each other - take all their weapons or anything sharp. We’re going back to Thelphs as winners, we don’t need the scars to prove it.”

You heard the roars of the men who stood before you. In their eyes, they believed all they’ve done is for the betterment of the world you all lived in.

But you knew what hid behind the tapestry that was woven by your father - destruction.

You bit your lip, not wanting to ruin the cheerful moment your men were having - all you could do was stare at Semi and let your eyes speak of all the pain you were feeling.

From afar, you heard a howl that woke up your numb senses.

Werewolves.

Joy graced the victims of your purge.

Their saviours came, ready to vanquish you and your men.

“They said the future leader of Thelphs was one ruthless and evil miscreant, yet they seem awfully sad for someone who led their troops to glory,” a werewolf said as he emerged from the bush beside you, “They do have a heart, after all.”

You stopped the minute you saw the male that now stood before you.

His red hair framed his sharp-jawed face. His obsidian eyes stared you down, a passion forming within the two of you. His olive skin gleamed under the soft light of the Sun. As he moved, you saw the scars painted on his skin - slashes made by swords and vicious beasts shifted in variations of his peach skin.

The ends of his lips raised as his eyes raised up and down, taking you in slowly.

“Mine.”

He rushed to you, his hand finding its place around your throat. He gripped softly, but strong enough to keep your soldiers on alert.

“Stand back!” you said, urging them to move back.

“Oh? - So my mate actually does care for me, don’t they?” He said, his mouth reaching the base of your neck, “How sweet of you, my love.”

Mate?

“State your business here, werewolf.”

“Well, in the beginning, it was to help the people you’ve captured,” his hand travelled to your waist, pulling you in, “But I think my prey has changed.”

You tried to pry yourself off of him, but you knew, deep inside, you wanted to pull him closer. You wanted to throw the troubles you had, all the roles you were born to play, to cast away the men who viciously fought under your order - all of that, just for a male you have just gazed upon.

The pull, the connection - it was instant. It was present, unrivalled.

Its wants and needs rang so clearly in your head.

But you had a promise to Semi - to the country you loved.

“Let go of me, wolf.”

“You don’t mean that love,” he said as he placed his head in the crook of your neck, “You want me just as much as I want you.”

He placed his hand on your cheek and you instinctively melted into the soft touch of his.

“Look at that,” he whispered, “You have already felt it, too - you know you can’t look back.”

“I can’t just give it up,” you tear.

“Then change it. I’ll stand behind you - change your homeland to what it was; a beacon of hope and freedom,” he smiled as your eyes softened, “This connection has to be proof that you were meant to be the change Thelphs needs, Y/N.”

You stare at his black eyes - more specifically the brown flecks that danced within them. They sang of nothing but determination and want - he wanted you, but he knew you had a want to change your homeland. He knew it all - just by a few minutes of just glancing at you.

He kissed your cheek, warmth spreading by that small action.

Your thoughts ran clear, the blinds holding back your judgement drawn.

“No.”

[alphastoworship]

Adam's eyes searched Caleb's, the same eyes he'd locked with for years, since the other was the shy, tiny boy who would hide behind his muscled calfs when the world got too scary or overwhelming for him. The same boy who would tug at the hem of his shirt whenever he needed his attention, no matter how old or big he got. The boy who would mindlessly reach for Adam's hand when he subconsciously needed guidance or just needed that physical reminder that Adam was there beside him and wouldn't just disappear or turn out to be a dream. The two had shared every special moment that any other father and son would share and more. Adam had been the one to dance with little Caleb when he chaperoned his first school dance and nobody else would ask him to. Adam drove Caleb to his medical appointments and always made sure Caleb had whatever he needed for school. The two were intrinscly intertwined and the love they had for one another, while some might describe it as becoming 'corrupted', the truth of the matter was that their love grew and blossomed and swelled to new levels of unconditional love and admiration, the heights of which had clearly scared the both of them until now.

Something in him knew in an instant that Caleb did, in fact, feel the same. Looking at the other after the kiss, he just knew with absolute certainty and his heart immediately began to soar. But then he watched a cloud pass over Caleb's face and he faltered for a moment, briefly scared of what was to come and then he felt his giant heart break a little as he watched the other's pain. The trauma the poor boy had endured now rising to the surface and while, a weaker man would take the opportunity to agree with Caleb and run away, Adam Davis was no weak man. He was a natural born leader and stronger both physically and emotionally than any average man. He set Caleb down softly, freeing his hands which moved to cup and hold both cheeks of Caleb's face and his large thumbs gently wiped each tear away.

"Listen to me closely, Caleb," he said, his voice strong and clear but soft and caring, the voice of a father; "You deserve the world, and that's what I'm going to make sure you get," he corrected him, "You are not filthy, you are not polluted and you are not worthless and I never, ever want to hear you talking about my baby boy like that," he said sternly, "What those low life scum bags - I won't call them family or even men because they were anything but - did to you was a reflection of them, not you," he pointed out, "They saw how pure, and perfect and shining you are, how much better you are than them and they couldn't handle it and what they tried to do was make you feel like you were one of them but you weren't and you never will be," he assured Caleb, "You never stopped being that same beautiful, amazing boy that I met all those years ago at your first day on the Scouts," he smiled, "If anything- you are more beautiful, more radiant and more amazing than ever before and now, now you've finally been given the chance to be free and to live how you do deserve," Adam's tone was warm and encouraging, the audible manifestation of a tight bear hug.

"Those men are in your past now and from now on it's just us- like it's always been but now it's on an official level like we honestly should've done years ago," he admitted, "I'm sorry I took so long to get here but know that I'm here for you forever and always, baby boy," he said softly, "I promise you that I will do everything in my power to not only make sure that those two rot and suffer behind bars but I'm going to make sure that you get to have the most amazing life, the one you truly deserve," he promised Caleb, leaning in and sealing it with another passionate kiss. He slowly pulled away looking into the other's eyes, "You are more worthy of my love than you will ever understand."

"No more 'Mr. D' or 'Officer Davis' or 'Scout Master' ... it's Daddy now," he said, "Yours and yours only."

" You don't have to worry about that." Caleb said as he tried to let out a laugh at the officer's joke. " I've seen what that stuff can do." Caleb had no desire to drink. His father was a raging alcoholic. He didn't want that in his life anymore. He had no problem that Adam would drink though. It was his house, and the boy trusted Adam completely. No one, aside from the man in front of him, knew just how deep that trust went.

Adam was the only real father Caleb had ever known. He was at EVERY Ballet recital and at EVERY gymnastics competition. He was there every sunday at church, and he was the most active leader when it came to the scouts. Caleb even remembered spending many Christmas', Thanksgivings and Easters with Mr. Davis when his own home life got a little too rough for him. The giant was a local hero in their small community, and to Caleb, the brute was his own personal superman. Growing up, Caleb could honestly say he loved Adam more than his own father. Now that he had grown up, the love the young man felt for the man in front of him had begun to shift and change. It was deeper than the a love a son should have for their father. It was much more complicated, and in actuality, it was more beautiful than words could ever describe.

There they were, the brute of a blonde and the little red head. For a minute, they didn't say anything. They simply looked at each other. Seeing that smile on the officer's face made the young man all warm inside, but he had a hard time returning the smile. He couldn't really bring himself to do it after everything that happened. That's when he heard the words he needed to hear. Caleb needed to know that he was safe. He needed to know that nothing was going to happen. He needed to know that he had a home. These were words that the red head desperately needed to hear. For most of his life, he never felt safe. That was a horrible feeling. The only time Caleb ever felt peace was when he was in the company of the man in front of him. This man protected him when no one else would. That's why Caleb felt the way he did. That's why what happened next was no surprise to the boy with auburn hair.

Suddenly, the blonde had closed the space between them. There was barely any space between them. The boy knew how he felt, and he could see that deep down, the retired army veteran felt the same way. Caleb had felt this way for a long time. He always wondered if it was okay to feel this way. Adam was married, he was the head of the police department, he was the only real father Caleb had ever known. The boy often wondered if this was right, but he's been feeling this way for years, and he knew his guardian and protecter felt the same way. He could see it in those blue eyes. The older Caleb got, the deeper these feelings became. They had gotten so strong, there was a point where Adam had distanced himself completely from the little red head. Even when they tried to keep a distance, Caleb's feelings never faltered, never, and now he knew that the only man who protected him from the world felt the same way.

That's when it happened. It was inevitable. Boundaries had been crossed, and a long term relationship became blurry. Caleb had been kissed. He had been kissed by the man whom he loved as a father. It was so gentle, yet it was powerful and passionate. It was a clear sign to Caleb that he wasn't the only one who harbored these complicated feelings. The young man had never felt this way before. The minute he felt those powerful lips, Caleb knew it was time to let go; to let go of his anxiety over these feelings, to let go of the worry, to let go of what was keeping him from pursuing these feelings. Times had changed; they both changed. Caleb grew up in abuse and was violently assaulted. Adam was lonely and divorced. Caleb wasn't a little boy anymore; he was a young adult now, and he finally allowed himself to explore what he had wanted to explore for as long as he can remember.

The simple but powerful kissed changed Caleb's life. Once it broke, the boy could still feel the giant's longing for him. He could still smell that unique and indescribable musk that flooded his nostrils. Caleb listened to what the other had to say. He heard the guilt in the christian man's voice, but the red head knew that the feelings the blonde had was more powerful than his sense of shame. Caleb felt the same way. He was finally ready to let go and give into the love that he so desperately wanted and needed. However, something was holding him back. While the kiss he gave Adam was powerful, the boy was still keeping himself at bay. It was evident in the boy's face. It was clear as day in those dark eyes; they were darker than usual. They were filled with a pain he could not describe, so his tears did it for him. The young man with auburn hair could not hold back his tears. He spoke from his soul as he said what he needed to say.

" I......I don't deserve you." Caleb's voice was emotional and broken. " I'm dirty, Sir. I'm filthy.........polluted.' His voice was heavy weight with a maturity that was beyond his years. " I'm.....I'm not worthy of your love. You're too good for me, Mr.D."

[evierena]

The demon brothers reacting to a MC that got cheated on. Part 2

Hello, I come here with the second part of my first headcanon, and I wanted to say that I did found a mistake in Satan’s hc, but I already fixed it. Just like last time, if you see a mistake, please kindly point it out for me, I really want to improve in everything I can. 

TW: Mentions of death. 

Intro:

MC was going to get married to their high school sweetheart, they were deeply in love and had been very clear about their status. They had made friends with everyone but never accepted any advances.

Halfway through the year, they get a text from the third party informing them about their significant other affair.

And now, heartbroken and angry, it was up to the rest to help them pick up the pieces. How? Well... Let's see.

Asmodeus

(In this one MC is GN, but the cheater and third party are female and male respectively)

This demon would love to talk with you about your wedding preparations. The theme, your outfit, the flowers, the music, the lingerie for your wedding night *wink, wink*. He would absolutely adore going through pictures upon pictures of weddings.

However, at the same time, as much as he is the Avatar of Lust, he wouldn't like to talk specifically about you with your fiancée. Yes, he would offer to *show* you how to make your bride go crazy on the wedding night, but since you always shot him down (gently, because you know he is sensitive about rejection) he wouldn't actually give any input to help you in that matter.

There is something else that only he, as the Avatar of Lust, sort of anticipated as he listened to you talking about how you met your girlfriend thanks to her being your younger brother's best friend.

And there were nights when, as much as Asmo could feel guilty later, he just couldn't help but fantasise about it coming true so that he could steal you away.

When it finally came true, he felt... Well, overjoyed and immensely guilty for even feeling like that.

You see, you were video calling your girlfriend, and as she was telling you about her day someone entered her room while saying "Honey, I'm home" and you recognized your little brother's voice.

Your girlfriend's face was in shock, and then you saw your brother placing a kiss on her lips casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world, like she was his and not yours. Then, he turned to the camera and his face was disfigured with shock and remorse.

But you had seen enough so you finished the call.

Asmo was in your room, but he was busy doing a face mask in the bathroom and when he came out and saw you crying and sobbing, head between your knees, he just knew it.

I wouldn't say he went as far as hating himself for that (knowing he could've given you a heads up) but he did feel remorseful.

So, for the rest of the week he made it up by pampering the hell out of you.

He lend you his bathtub, he made sure your skin didn't suffer the consequences of crying so much, he gave you massages, he took you shopping, he distracted you by inviting you to clubs, parties,  he bragged about you in his social media, giving your self esteem and ego a much needed boost.

Of course, he would always make sexual innuendos, but he never did anything to make you feel uncomfortable, more like friendly reminders that you are desired.

"Oh, MC, you look delectable with that, I could just eat you up" and "If she saw you like that, she would beg for you to take her back" and some more "You'll see they'll regret everything, you are beautiful inside and out, and they will soon realize what an amazing person they let go"

Asmodeus will try to be in constant touch with you (as long as you allow him) holding hands, a hand in your back, sitting really close to you in school, cuddling with you on movie nights, fingers brushing delicately through your hair, etc.

His revenge is by far the most direct and cruel out of his brothers.

He teamed up with Solomon, the latter getting permission to go to the Human Realm for some errands he needed, and then he summoned Asmo.

In there, he went and meet your ex and brother, and with just a few words he charmed your ex so badly she forgot all about your brother, falling forever in love with Asmo (Solomon helped with a spell that would keep the charm on forever), effectively breaking your little brothers heart and driving your ex to a state of desperation, for she was obsessed with the demon until she died.  

As for you, as time went by, you moved on and once you were ready to embrace your new found feelings for the pink haired demon, you decided to let him know.

"I love you, Asmo"

"Ow, of course you do, peaches, I love myself too" he would say, playfully.

"I mean, I love love you, Asmodeus"

Cue to squeals of joy loud enough to be heard in all House of Lamentation.

" Really?!! Ohhh, I love you too, MC!!!!"

Beelzebub

You and Beel had an amazing friendship, he was very protective of you, and soon everyone knew that you never were far from each other. You would cook for him, accompany him in his nightly carvings when you were also awake, he would share his food with you, pretty much the most wholesome friendship you ever had.

As such, you told each other everything. He would tell you about Lilith and his nightmares, how he felt about his brothers and himself, and you would tell him about your future spouse, the nervousness and eagerness of sharing your life with the love of your life and the want of starting a family with them.

He only wanted for you to be happy, so if that person was making you happy, he would ignore the ache in his heart every time you talked about it and wished you the best.

One day, you were on cooking duty, and you decided to make Beel a feast of his favorite Human Realm recipes, so you left your human phone charging in your room and put yourself to work, but you took your D.D.D with you.

Beel was coming back from practice when you texted him if he could bring you some stuff from your room before you finished everything in the kitchen.

He saw the tilting screen with several notifications and decided to also bring it to you. However, one text captured his attention.

He didn't recognized the name of the sender, but the text read "I can't keep up with the lies and I wouldn't want someone as important to me as (name of your soon-to-be spouse) is to you to do this kind of thing" Beel furrowed his brows, trying to read more in the screen, but he decided it was best for you to read it first.

And just in time, you called out to him.

He went and when he saw you he gave you your phone with a pained look on his face.

"I think you need to see this before eating, MC"

You were puzzled, "what could have happened that was more important than eating?" you thought. Oh, but when you started to read everything, you understood. 

Your ex co worker had confessed to you to be having an affair with your soon-to-be spouse.

You looked up to see your best demon friend, your big teddy bear for some sort of comfort when your world was coming crashing down on you.

Beel hugged you tight, letting your tears stain his shirt, engulfing your entire being in his bigger and warmer frame.

He didn't say anything, he even forgot all about the feast you had prepared, his soft and big heart was broken for you. However, he did feel a sudden craving for a certain human up in the human realm.

Finally you pushed yourself out of his embrace and said "Beel, I'm hungry" causing him to smile gently at you.

"Me too".

With Beel, you eat your woes away. He would always make sure that you had at least a snack in your hand, because in his experience, food can make you feel better.

He became your personal body heater, always keeping you at arm's length. If before you both were close, now you were joined by the hip.

You welcomed him, his compassionate and sweet presence was all you needed to keep going.

With time, you began to recover from the blow, started to smile more, be more happy and lively, like you used to. Beel would always smile at your way, and he always offered his help when things got a little too much for you.

If you felt like you gained weight from all the comfort food you had been eating, he would remind you, by lifting your body, that you were still really light for him and that you would always be very pretty to his eyes. Nonetheless, if you still felt insecure or uncomfortable, he would offer to help you train and get back on track.

If someone dared to make you feel guilty about what happened, Beel would growl at them and then he would remind you that it was not your fault and that you are an incredible person who helped him to get his family together again, and that he would always be there for you.

If you fall for this sweet, adorable teddy bear I don't blame you (honestly, same) you would also need to be the one to come forth about it, not because he is dense or clueless about your feelings for him, but because he was already happy with your friendship and didn't want to push for more.

"Beel, I love you"

He would look at you with big and excited puppy eyes, and the biggest, most heartwarming smile you had seen

Belphegor

(Spoilers from lesson 16 read under your own risk)

When you found him in the attic, and accepted to help him, you started to sneak to try and keep him company when Lucifer wasn't around.

You would try to make conversation to help him feel not so lonely up there, and in his efforts to gain your trust he let you ramble about your future marriage.

He HATED hearing you talk about it, it just made his blood boil. How could an insignificant and naïve human like you even dared to think about being remotely happy when he lost everything because of humans? Oh, he would be so thrilled to crush your pathetic dreams of happiness by taking your life. But all that  had to wait until you were stupid enough to let him out.

Well, after the whole Incident™, you, Belphie and Beel had The Talk™ because you wanted to start over, forgive and forget and give yourselves a new chance at friendship.

Who knew you two would become such good friends??

When you weren't busy doing your tasks or studying for class, you would be with Belphie, napping and recharging energy in the most weird places. One time, Lucifer found both of you sleeping hanging from the horns of that demon head at the entrance.

Somehow you would always get dragged with Belphie's pranks at Lucifer, and more often than not, you were the reason he stopped from doing the really dangerous ones, something that the Avatar of Pride was mildly grateful for, if only you could make his little brother stop completely.

With your new blossoming friendship with the youngest of the demon brothers, you confide in him with your worries about your future. He would listen to you, if he wasn't too tired or if he didn't fall asleep, and in his heart still remained a little bit of the annoyance of hearing you talk about your wedding, but for entirely different reasons.

After everything that happened between the two, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop you from leaving back to the human realm, but it still hurt him to think that he wasted his short time with you trying to trick you instead of enjoying your company.

One night, you were napping in the attic next to him, and he just stared at you, unable to sleep, when your phone started to vibrate unceasingly.

He was annoyed to say the least, thinking that it could wake you up and break his peaceful time with you, so he took it to turn it off when he saw the preview of a concerning amount of texts you were receiving.

He froze reading the previews, (I do not justfy invadig someone else´s privacy at all, but he is a brat and a demon, so he just did it) so he decided to investigate further by unblocking the device and read thoroughly what seemed to be... a confession.

Once he was completely informed of the current situation, he put the phone down, took his own and texted Beel asking him to bring you some comfort snacks, because you were going to need it.

Once he got the confirmation from his twin, he turned to you and, against his own desires, woke you up.

"What is it Belphie?" your sleepy eyes trying to focus on his, your voice barely audible. He was almost convinced to let you go back to sleep and deal with this shit tomorrow. But he stopped himself from giving in to his sin.

"MC, you need to read something"

The severity in his voice helped you clear the haziness from your mind as you sat up.

He knew the moment you were completely awake while you were reading the messages from who, he deduced, was your partner's ex telling you that they were having an affair from at least two years prior to your coming to Devildom and now that you were gone, they were planning to move in together despite all your daily calls and weekly video calls.

When you looked at Belphie, tears clouding your beautiful eyes, he remembered why he hated humanity so much. They didn't hesitate to crush souls as pure and kind as yours, they were selfish bastards.

He held you, firmly pressed against his chest, rubbing your back, while he let you know his feelings against your now ex.

That's when Beel showed up with your favorite snacks in tons. And when he saw the scene before him, Belphie just looked at him while still whispering to you that you have them, he and Beel, that they were going to look after you and that you were going to be fine. Cue to Beel sitting by your side and took you and his twin in his arms, reaffirming the youngest words.

After they helped you calm down, Beel and Belphie offered your snacks and all three of you ate quietly, you were leaning in Belphie's shoulder and he even kept quiet about the crumbs you were spilling on him.

Once you were done and full, you went back to their room, and all three of you decided to join the beds and sleep together for the night. So, you were resting in the twins's bed, in the middle of them, engulfed by their comforting warmth when you felt Belphegor's hand snake his way until he found yours.

"I will never let anyone hurt you ever again" he swore to you, and you fell asleep.

Belphegor would be the type of friend who would diss and bad-mouth your ex to help you feel better, and he definitely teamed up with Satan and Solomon to effectively curse the people who hurt his favorite human so much. How? You'll never know, but one day you found him staring at a wall as if he was reminiscing something with a malicious grin, and when you asked he simply said "I was just wondering how long can a human stand with only three intermittent hours of sleep daily".

You dropped the subject and never brought it up again.

Belphie would make sure no one bothered you, and he kept his promise to you, whenever he wasn't awake and around you, Beel was.

The Avatar of Sloth guarded your dreams, allowing you to sleep soundly and safe, he would steal you to nap the moment he sensed you were feeling down, and the glare he gave to others left no room to argue.

He wouldn't make a move with you, directly, but he would *subtly* and most of the time while falling asleep, let you know about his own feelings so if you did end up falling for this sleepyhead, you would be sure he felt the same.

"Belphegor?" you whispered while you both were in the middle of one of your napping sessions, snuggling up to him more.

"Mm?"

"I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life"

You didn't see him, but you felt him hugging you closer to him, tangling his legs with yours, pressing kisses to your head. But he would still tease you.

"Took you long enough, MC"

Again, thank you so much for reading all of this long ass headcanon. I hope you have a great day, and remember to take breaks and stay hydrated. 

P.s: In case you haven’t found it, here’s Part 1

[rogue-durin-16]

THE FLOWER IN THE FORGE (part II/II)

Request: Thorin x fem human! reader please where they meet in Ered Luin during Thorin’s blacksmith days, she bonded with the rest of the Durins too especially Dis, so just cute & stuff until finally Thorin has to leave to reclaim Erebor, maybe a bit of an angsty bittersweet ending because the reader is not interested in being a queen

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x human!Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Requested by: @queenofmankind

The flower in the forge: @rosierosieelain

Permanent taglist: @queenofmankind @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722

Warnings: feelings duh

A/N: the second part is finally finished uwu, I hope you enjoy this one as much as the first one, though it's kinda long ngl, anyway enjoy <3

Part I

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

There were rumors almost immediately after Thorin had spent the night in my house, and they only increased when, past a week, we started courting each other. The people in town weren't exactly subtle, so we caught on them rather quickly.

"What are you doing here?" Thorin inquired after having seen me approaching the blacksmith's.

"I came to keep your company for a bit." my reply was casual and relaxed, as opposed to his tone, almost distressed. "Would you like me better away?" my question was meant to tease him, though it hid some insecurity.

"It is not like that." he grumbled, moving around the workplace; I couldn't say for sure if he was actually working or if he was avoiding having to lay his eyes on me.

"Then?"

He ceased his actions for a moment and sighed. "People talk." he almost whispered, glaring at every person that might had been staring at us.

"Well, let them." I shrugged, letting myself fall on the stool.

Unexpectedly, his eyes left his hands and dug into mines. "It does not amuse me one bit hearing these people talk about you." the intensity his ice blue eyes held was too much to bear; I had to fight the urge to look away. "nor the things that they say."

"Listen, that is very sweet of you, but if I don't mind it, then neither should you." He grunted and went back to his tasks. "Thorin." I pinched my nose at his deliberate disregard of me. "I'll leave now." I waited for an instant there, hoping to receive a response of some kind, but seeing I wasn't going to get any, I began to stand up.

"Thorin" we both looked at the entrance, where a dwarf-woman stood with arms crossed.

"Dís?" the raven-haired dwarf seemed not only caught off guard, but also tense. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to drag you back home personally," she entered the blacksmith's and took a seat on the wooden bench right across me. "since both my sons keep being thrown out."

Thorin kept his mouth shut, and so did I. Dís didn't seem to notice me, and I'd rather keep it like that as long as I could; if Thorin hadn't said anything about me, it was for a reason.

"Brother," Oh no. "you spend too much time in here." it was then that she looked up and met my eyes. I couldn't say for sure if I looked as scared as I was. "Is this the lass that got you smitten?" my eyes went wide and Thorin almost choked on the water he was drinking. "don't look so scared, kid, I won't bite you." I cleared my throat and tried to relax. "what is your name?"

"Y/n, ma'am."

"who told you?" Thorin inquired, hostile.

"Kíli." Thorin mumbled something in what I supposed was khuzdul. "You know how he is," Dís defended him. "If you wanted the courting to be a secret you should have kept her away from my sons."

"who else knows?"

"I think I shall leave now." I stated, walking to the entrance of the shop.

"nonsense." Dís replied, getting up too. "Stay, I did not mean to interrupt you."

"You didn't."

"She was leaving."

Thorin and I spoke simultaneously, which somehow made the situation more uncomfortable.

"In that case, I'll walk with you, if you don't mind." I shook my head no and she joined me at the entrance. "He's poor company anyway." I let out a chuckle at her words. "Tell me about you, Y/n."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

THORIN’S P. O. V.

"Dís came to visit today." Y/n informed me whilst brushing her hair in front of her old mirror. "she sends you regards."

"I have the feeling that my sister likes you more than she likes me." I chuckled, walking to stand behind Y/n.

"No wonder why" she teased, looking at me through the mirror as I carefully took her hair in one hand and the brush in the other. "She explained to me that touching another's hair is something very intimate for you." I stopped my actions at her intent words. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I... Don't know." I replied truthfully, resuming the brushing of her hair. "I guess I didn't want to impose my costumes."

"Can you please braid my hair?"

"Of course." I replied, separating her hair in four sections, just to be stopped by her hands as she turned her torso to meet me.

"No, I meant as in—" my eyes widened a little and her smile grew wider. "Can you please braid my hair, so I can braid yours too?" She bit her lower lip expectant.

I lifted her chin and laid my lips on hers in the most tender way I could. When we pulled away, her eyes shun with love and excitement equally, and I felt a beam making its way to my face. "Of course." I repeated, going to her side to braid a section of her hair.

When I looked at her reflection, I saw her already staring at me with such happiness it made my heart swell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

A year had passed since I had first met Thorin, and it had been the happiest year of my whole life.

But all good things come to an end, sooner rather than later, to my dismay.

Thorin appeared in front of my shop late night. He had business in his home that day so I wasn't expecting him to come back until the next morning, so when he showed up, I had the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

"Can we talk?"

"Of course," I closed the shop to the public and invited him to come inside. "What is it?"

"I'm leaving." I furrowed my brows in confusion and Thorin sighed. "I must reclaim my Kingdom." I sat down as realization started to overcome my confusion. "I cannot ask you to come with me," he came to me and took my hand in his. "But I can ask you to join me in a different way."

"Thorin..." my gaze stayed casted down, fixed in our hands, and when Thorin realize that wasn't going to change, he kneeled in front of me. "I don't—"

"I love you, Y/n." he sounded sanguine in his declaration. "Let me make you my queen."

"I love you too, Thorin." with a bittersweet smile, I kneeled too in front of him. "But I can't be your queen." his ice blue irises, though held pain, showed me that he already knew my answer. "There are endless reasons why I cannot," I replied, squeezing his hands. "but the main one is that I have no interest in being queen in a foreign land." before he could interrupt me, I kept explaining, "Thorin, that mountain is your home, but my home is here, you have to understand."

His eyes stared into mines with such intensity that the hurting and the love they held made my orbs well.

"I know," he whispered with a half smile "but I had to try." his voice trembled and a couple of tears ran down my cheeks, though they didn't get too far, since Thorin's thumbs were fast to wipe them gently. "listen now, amrâlimé, my future now holds nothing but uncertainty," a sweet-and-sour beam twisted the corner of his lips as he cupped my cheeks. "but one thing I'm sure of, and it is that I will love you forever."

"I will, too." I confessed, leaning on to kiss his lips.

It wasn't a passionate one, for it was a goodbye kiss. I savored it as much as I could, attempting to memorize how his lips felt, and so did he.

"Farewell, Y/n." he spoke, planting a chaste kiss on my forehead before getting up. "May Durin guard you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, expectedly, the blacksmith's shop was closed, and people spoke about Thorin Oakenshield, who had parted with some of his kin to take back what was theirs.

I took my hands to fidget with the bead at the end of my braid. I probably would not see him ever again, but I was certain my heart belonged to him, and his to me.

"Farewell, Thorin Oakenshield." I whispered to myself. "May Durin guard you."