#I’ve never left but I really wasn’t all that invested the past few years

[abovethemists]

When you fall face first back into a decade old hyperfixation.

[wellpresseddaisy]

The Potion Master's Guide to the Magical Ton pt.1

Narcissa suppressed the urge to bite her lip and forced her face into a smooth visage, even though no one else sat in her boudoir with her. She would not give Mother even one forty-sixth of an inch to get her claws in the next time they met. She heard what Mother said to Bella at the last Lattimore-Comstock card party about her complexion. No, she would not frown or bite her lips or do anything that would allow Mother to find either wrinkle or imperfection, which made the letter in her hands all the more irksome. Who on this earth did Frank Longbottom mean? Lucius, while certainly exceeding pretty, hadn’t been considered ‘little’ for a great many years. Possibly never, if Maman Amelie’s complaints over birthing him were to be believed. Narcissa patted the soft swell of her abdomen and hoped her child would be quite a bit smaller than Papa at birth.

Lucius also hadn’t made a curtsey at Almack’s, so that let him quite out. Purebloods only ever complained when they found one of their number who’d curtseyed unchaperoned in London, specifically. She’d no idea why London made them get their backs up when meeting in a country lane did not, but there lay the hypocrisy of Society. Social conventions must be honored, but only where everyone could see. But why would Frank think it her problem? She and Lucius had guardianship of precisely 0 young men who’d curtsied.

Could he mean Severus? Surely Longbottom knew Severus was not actually under their purview? He was the only one Narcissa knew who might get into anything termed a row with anyone, although he generally had good reason. Docile, Severus was not. Lucius had, after one full day of Severus at his most waspish, likened his personality to a bear trap in a moment of frustration. As much as Narcissa adored their young friend, Lucius had a point.

She rose from her escritoire and went in search of Lucius. Perhaps he could make heads or tails of any of this? She thought he’d been rather close with Longbottom, once. Perhaps he would still understand how the man’s mind worked? She ran him to ground in his study, frowning over a pile of ledgers.

He’d taken off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. Merlin and Morgana. She took in the sight for a moment, appreciating the soft, golden light of a Summer afternoon shining off his hair and highlighting the breadth of his shoulders under crisp, white linen. She could be half dead, she decided, and she’d still get up off her bed to see her husband in shirtsleeves and waistcoat, especially when he’d removed his cravat and his shirt fell open at the throat. He had such a lovely throat.

“Trouble, darling?” she asked. She could ogle him later.

“My beloathed Pater biffed off to France just as the ten-year audit is beginning and left me holding the bag,” Lucius grumbled.

“Of course he did, dear one. What do you think he’s dodging this time, beyond the  responsibility?” Narcissa joined him behind the desk and enjoyed running her hands over his broad shoulders.

One made one’s fun where one could, of course.

“I’ve no idea. He’s left running the estate to me for the past few years. It could be his investment account, I suppose. He doesn’t much like me seeing what he’s doing there.” Lucius sighed and raked his hands through his hair.

“Hmm. Yes, most likely. Would you have a moment? I received the most intriguing letter from Frank Longbottom in the morning’s post. I can’t make out precisely what he means.”

“Why would Frank—” Lucius reached for the letter.

“That was my question, as well.”

“Oh Merlin, he’s trotted out all his titles. He really must have been in a snit while writing. My dear Mrs. Malfoy—” Lucius read.

My dear Mrs. Malfoy,

It is with great displeasure that I felt I must write to apprise you of the shocking lack of  conduct of one under your guardianship.

“He hasn’t changed a whit,” Lucius commented. “Still as officious as ever. He wasn’t this bad at school, though.”

This morning, I went into London. It was there I found your ward, unchaperoned and in the midst of a row with the proprietor of a shop. I will not assault your tender eyes with an account of the invective or the opprobrius epithets

“I wonder how many times it took him to spell opprobrius?” Narcissa asked. “If I remember correctly, he was always in disgrace with professors over his spelling.”

“So was half of both of our classes.”

“There is that, I suppose. Parents should take much better care over early education.”

“Shall I continue?”

“Please. You do ‘insulted stuffed shirt’ so well.”

Lucius snorted and continued.

the opprobrius epithets hurled at the poor shop keep. I, of course, stepped in and remonstrated sharply with your ward. He behaved much the same to me. While I do not wish to cause trouble, I would recommend a sharp word with him regarding his conduct. I would further recommend, when you or your husband are unavailable, that he be assigned a chaperone who will brook no nonsense.

I cannot believe one who is under your tender care would so forget his conduct as to behave in such a thoroughly disgraceful manner. Thankfully, I know you and your husband will see to it that it never happens again. I hope you will not think it amiss that I took him under my own authority and saw him through the nearest Floo to your home. I did not feel that he, in that state, ought to be allowed to go any further astray.

I do hope that your husband will impress upon him the dangers a pretty little lad might face unchaperoned and unprotected in London. Do tell him, from me, that I think six would suffice. Eight if he’s quarrelsome and willful.

Ever in your service,

Francis Longbottom

“I’m not reading the full collection of titles. It’s positively indecent putting them all in.” Lucius scoffed at the closure. “Ever in your service? Salazar’s wand he’s become insufferable. And it shows he doesn’t know me at all. I would never subject anyone to six of the best. Beastly. I’ve always been able to get my message across in other ways.”

“I blame his mother,” Narcissa commented idly. “She behaves as if every word from his mouth is straight from Merlin. I have an idea of who he might mean, but surely not. He has to know it can’t be.”

“Just, for one moment, consider that Frank Longbottom is famous for having no sense of humor at all. Further consider that absolutely exhausted little joke the Slytherins made, and still make, about Severus being our first.”

“No,” Narcissa breathed in horrified delight. She hated being correct on some occasions. “He wouldn’t be so mutton-headed.”

“Frank is capable of a great deal of mutton-headery, I’m afraid. You know he voted for the guardianship bill that came up last Wizengamot seasion. I can do the whole speech if you’d like.”

“As much as I would love to hear it, darling, I think we’ll have to save that for later. Where’s Severus? If that happened this morning…oh, the poor dear. He must be fuming. Mipsy!”

A quiet pop heralded the arrival of an extremely tidy elf.

“Mistress called?”

“Could you locate Mr. Snape and ask him to attend us in the study?” Narcissa asked.

“Mipsy will find Master Severus.” She popped out again.

“Does he know they call him Master Severus?”

“Hmm? Oh, I’ve no idea. He hasn’t smashed a decanter over it, so he may not know precisely what it means.” Lucius looked up from his ledgers. “Do you think I should play the angry prefect with him?”

“Don’t be cruel, darling. He’s going to be confused enough being called to the study as it is.”

“And he always responded better to that face you made — the ‘I’m not angry only terribly disappointed’ one.”

“We’ll be as normal as we can be about Frank Longbottom crashing in where he isn’t wanted,” Narcissa decided.

“Did you hear that he ordered his wife to stop working the minute he heard she was expecting?” Lucius asked. “In front of all her colleagues at St. Mungo’s?”

“And he isn’t searching Lancashire for his bits? Mrs. Longbottom has more patience than I could ever muster.”

“Between the husband and the Dowager, I’m surprised she’s ever allowed to express an opinion.”

“Er, you wished to see me?” Severus sidled into the room, holding a stack of cards and looking shifty.

“Yes, dear heart. Oh, please don’t look so nervous. Come and sit.” Narcissa crossed to Severus and pulled him further into the room. She easn’t entirely sure the Study would help calm him at all. When Severus got in a state nothing would, really.

The sofa was a deep and squashy one, perfect for afternoon naps while avoiding work. Narcissa perched on the edge of a chair while Lucius pulled Severus down to sit on the sofa with him.

“I received a perfectly ridiculous letter just now,” she began.

“Bloody Longbottom!” Severus interrupted, flushing. “The apothecary promised faithfully to provide the finest quality ingredients, and at the time I specified. He had nothing ready when I got there and then, then he tried to sell me inferior belladonna. I specifically told him I needed the premium quality and I don’t know what I’m going to tell Master Cavallieri when I go back. This was meant to be part of my Master Work. On top of that, bloody Frank Longbottom scruffed me in bloody public and told me to mind my manners like the nice lad he knew I was!”

Narcissa blinked. “And you didn’t bite him? ”

“I think I was too shocked at being scruffed,” Severus admitted.

“Did he say anything else?” Lucius asked gently.

“He apologized for my reprehensible conduct.” Severus looked angry enough to spit tacks. “And then he dragged me out of the shop and to the nearest Floo, since he couldn’t allow me to run about loose and unsupervised as I was clearly overwrought. Overwrought! I have never been overwrought a day in my life!”

Narcissa could argue with that, but kept her counsel. No sense in twitting Severus when he’d been so embarrassed already.

“I hope you got him with something truly awful,” Lucius soothed.

“Er…” Severus bit his lip. “It was immensely petty of me, I know, but…flatulence.”

He muttered the last so low that it took Narcissa a moment to fully understand. She snorted.

“Excellently done,” Lucius said. “He’s grown into an appalling windbag, I fear. Now, would you like to continue to be angry or would you like a solution?”

“Why don’t we take this to the family sitting room and have some tea?” Narcissa rose as she spoke, moving toward the door.

“Wondeful idea, my love. Outrage does make one so parched.” Lucius chivvied Severus after her.

[lurkingshan]

Step by Step Episode 11 (OF DOOM)

Warning: I really, really did not like this episode. If you’re trying to keep positive vibes you should scroll on by, friends! 

Welp. I told a few friends last week that my biggest disappointment would be if, after missing the mark on the emotional payoff of the slow burn and speed running the relationship, the show chose to break them up and do a time jump rather than staying with them in the present time and working through the conflicts they set up. And here we are! I wish I’d been wrong about where this was heading. Shouts to @waitmyturtles and @neuroticbookworm for holding me down while this show fell apart on me, I’ve been all in a tizzy about it, because I really loved it for awhile there.

This episode, yet again, felt like a disjointed mess. After last week’s cliffhanger, the idea of Pat resigning to get away from the predatory office gossip fell away within a few quick scenes. Instead the tension disappeared as the plot brought them into a bubble with only their most supportive colleagues and we swerved into a retread of the Put nonsense and a new plot about Jeng and Pat fighting to save the digital marketing team via the power of Put’s quasi-celebrity and Instagram likes. Or something. I honestly couldn’t tell you the details of what they were trying to accomplish, I was too distracted by my incredulity to pay close attention to this very sudden fake problem that they were obviously going to conquer (that, my friends, is what we call conflict with no stakes). Meanwhile, the show suddenly wants me to care about Jaab and Jen again - enough to devote a big portion of the penultimate episode’s runtime to them, what a choice - after doing fuck all with that plot for six weeks. It’s a no from me. 

It doesn’t matter anyway, because soon enough we’re time skipping again! After resolving the work challenge subplot we speed past another three months of Pat and Jeng’s relationship without addressing any of their issues, and I guess I’m supposed to be at peace with being a full nine months into their relationship with no onscreen emotional advancement? But I gotta be honest, y’all. I am not. You just don’t do this with a slow burn romance narrative. You can’t spend 80% of your runtime building to something that you have no intention of paying off, and no amount of thinking about what else this show is trying to say is going to convince me they did proper justice to the relationship. I already broke down why I didn’t think the episode 10 culmination got us there, and nothing that happened in this episode changed my opinion.

And all of this is leading to yet another time jump - two entire years this time - after the big reveal that Jeng doesn’t believe in Pat at all and literally bought his success, Evil Daddy knew it all along and waited for a choice moment to deploy the info for maximum damage while twirling his villain mustache, and Pat is finally quitting for real and dumping Jeng for good measure.

And ya know what? GOOD FOR PAT. I was completely on his side in this decision. If there’s one bright spot in this episode (other than Chot, always Chot) it’s Pat getting himself together enough to realize he deserves better than the bullshit he’s been getting from Put and Jeng and walking on out. So Jeng and Pat are now broken up, but I never got invested in their relationship in the first place, because we barely saw it, let alone got the chance to live in and feel it. I wasn’t even upset while watching this breakup scene - it left me emotionally indifferent. Which is maybe the worst thing I can say about a dramatic climax in a story.

I guess next week we’ll meet Jeng and Pat again two years in the future and get some kind of happy ending. I’m gonna stick around for the finale and cross my fingers that we get all the epilogue fluff we have definitely earned, but sadly, this show has lost me.

[lizzie-is-here]

like the dawn

part xiii- healing

“a monster is not such a terrible thing to be” - ocean vuong

summary: the trials come to a close, but you’re still struggling with what’s left behind.

wordcount: 3.4k

warnings: cussing, tooth-rotting fluff, angst and comfort, mentions of violence, trauma, allusions to homophobia

taglist: @whelvedfeelingsstuff @sebsgirl71479 @rebloggingmyrecs @babyblublossom @local-mr-frog @thenyxsky @capsiclesdoll @moonlightreader649 @saranghaey @almosttoopizza @itsivymusic

a/n: ok i’m slowly getting a bit less busy so hopefully i can post a little more often now! but also a heads-up that i’ll be putting this series on hold soon to do a 12 days of christmas thing! i might try to finish this first, we’ll just see how it goes. sorry for the long wait, and like always, hope u enjoy! love u 🤍🤍🤍

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The better half of the next two weeks were spent in court, ignoring the press, and sneaking away with Steve and Bucky wherever possible.

Years of unsaid words flowed between you three, and you could feel your walls being broken down day by day. You no longer apologize for the extra space your wings take up, or feel the need to soften your voice.

You’re sitting on the couch one day, entranced in an ocean documentary when Clint, Nat, and Wanda walk in, sweaty and straight from training. The latter two join you, while the archer goes to the kitchen and starts making sandwiches.

“So… Anything interesting going on lately?” the redhead asks. You shake your head.

“Not really. Been trying to catch up on everything, so-” You gesture to the TV. “Figured this was a good place to start.”

Wanda tilts her head. “Where are Steve and Bucky?”

“Yeah, I’ve rarely seen you three apart,” Nat agrees.

She wasn’t wrong. You three have been less-than-subtle these past days, even risking kisses in the living room a few times.

“They’re on a run with Sam,” you explain with a smile. “Needed to burn some energy.”

Unbeknownst to you, the three Avengers knew that. In fact, they’d made sure Sam had joined the super-soldiers on their run. They’ve noticed how strange you’ve been acting, and Nat got a bit too invested in finding out.

There’s no malicious intent, but her curiosity overpowers any guilt she’d feel for her mastermind plan. That is, to annoy the three of you until someone tells her what she already knows. She likes the confirmation.

Clint flops onto the couch next to the assassin, stacking two sandwiches and biting into both at once. The way his jaw pushes back to accommodate the ridiculous amount of food reminds you of a snake you’d seen in the previous episode.

“So, has Barnes always been that buff?” Nat hums. She quickly glances over at you to watch your reaction.

Wanda senses a twinge of jealousy that you stamp down surprisingly well. But you don’t give away any physical clues.

“Uhh, yeah,” you begin. “Used to do push-ups in our apartment while Steve and I ate breakfast.”

The redhead grins a devil’s grin, sly and only noticed by Wanda and Clint. “Bet you got a nice view of that ass.”

That makes you cough. Spluttering and bright red, the nearby lamp flickers in time with your heart. She wasn’t wrong, technically, not that you’d admit it.

“I- I never looked,” you excuse, discreetly fanning your face. She hums, but doesn’t press further.

Meanwhile, the super-soldiers are receiving the same treatment from Sam.

“Oh, come on. You two need to get back into dating eventually,” the man sighs, watching as they prickle and stumble a bit.

“I’m alright with where I am,” Steve says, careful in choosing his words. “I don’t really feel like dealing with all of the modern dating traditions.”

Bucky huffs. “Yeah, that time you made me sign into Tinder might have been the worst ten minutes of my life. Made me wish I was still getting brainwashed.”

“Buck!” Steve protests, glaring at his- Well, what was the right title? “Partner” seemed off, “boyfriend”, maybe? Nah, too childish.

“I saw too much, Steve,” the brunet laments. “Some dude had a tattoo of Stark on his-”

“Alright, I get it!”

Sam takes the opening. “Well, is (Y/N) thinking about dating?” It’s impossible to miss how they exchange a nervous glance. “I mean, she’s pretty, she’s been adjusting well. I’m sure she wouldn’t have any trouble-”

Bucky snaps first. “Ok! Ok, ok, Sam, listen.”

Steve sighs. “Buck-”

“Listen,” he continues. “You can’t tell anyone about this.”

Bingo. The Falcon feigns shock. “Oh? What’s ‘this’?”

———————————————————————

By the end of the week, Sam knows all about you three, and Nat is 98.2% sure she say you making out in the kitchen one night. The 1.8% is because she was also extremely over-caffeinated, so hallucinations were always a possibility.

Wanda’s been complaining to Clint about how “emotionally suppressed” you all are, but they think it’s sweet nonetheless.

In all honesty, you don’t really mind if the team knows. The hard part is keeping your budding relationship away from the public.

If they find out, it’ll just pile on more stress to the neverending trials. Your relationship will be grounds for more invasive questions, and you aren’t ready for that. At least, not until the trials come to a close and you either end up free or in prison.

Speaking of prison, Tony’s lawyers had finally confronted Thaddeus Ross about your treatment on the Raft.

“There was no permanent damage done to Ms. (L/N),” Ross’s lawyer argues, enunciating his words. “We knew that, due to her enhancements, she would survive the dosage.”

You say nothing but frown slightly. It had been hours of pain and nausea. Your memory from that week is foggy and jumbled. There was definitely some permanent damage.

“During her interrogations, Ms. (L/N) confessed to having blinded soldiers and burnt them with her powers. It was only reasonable to be concerned and want to minimize damages.”

“And for Mr. Barnes, we used a special set of cuffs that sent an electromagnetic pulse through his metal arm, which was enough to contain him without the assistance of sedatives.”

You bristle at the way they speak about you. Like an experiment. Like HYDRA. It turns your stomach and plants a deep unease. The way Bucky shifts on the other side of Steve reveals that he feels the same way.

The blond captain doesn’t dare to hold your hands. Not now. Not with all of the cameras and eyes. His hand twitches anyway.

You manage through the first half of the trial, but the judge’s next words make your heart drop. They’re calling a witness forward. A last name that echoes in the back of your mind.

“What is your relationship to the defendants?”

You can’t make eye contact with the man.

“They killed my dad,” he says. The courtroom goes silent.

You swallow. He continues to describe how he found the governor dead in his office, a hole burnt through his chest and a ghastly bruise on his neck.

By the time he’s done, you’re so far gone that you don’t notice your hands shaking, or how everyone’s getting up to leave.

“Hey, hey, come back to us,” Steve whispers. You blink, tears welling up as you spot the man shaking hands with Ross.

Bucky follows your gaze, only to rip it away when he realizes. He glances at his metal arm.

He hates excluding Steve, but the words slip from his tongue before he can stop them.

“Заслуживаем ли мы этого [Do we deserve this]?” This. The possibility of getting out of this mess. Of legally washing your hands of the blood, even if the stains would stick around.

A part of you, long buried since the ‘40s, says that you do. It promises that you weren’t in control, that neither of you would have done this out of your own volition.

But it’s so much easier to take the blame. If you’ve grown so used to the heavy darkness, then who will you be when it’s lifted?

And you hate that you can’t answer.

———————————————————————

It’s late that night when you finally turn in. Locking the door, you drop your covers.

You grab pajamas and tug the curtains shut, hand grazing Steve’s as he turns on the TV. Bucky’s sitting on the bed and is definitely staring at the former’s ass. Not that you can blame him.

With a knowing smile, you run a hand through his hair. You feel a presence behind you, and a kiss planted right between your wings. You sigh, exhaling the stress of the day.

“None of that was your fault,” Steve whispers. It hurts to hear. When he’s met with silence, he patiently reiterates himself. “None of it.”

“That man from the trial, I remember the… the victim,” Bucky mumbles. “He told us he had a son. Not that it did anything for him.”

Nodding, you close your eyes as the memory washes over you.

A well-dressed man kneels on an ornate carpet. Your bow is drawn. He holds up a framed picture, pleading in strangled gasps. You loose the glowing arrow as the Winter Soldier holds him up by the throat.

“Is that what you were saying earlier?” the blond asks. The Russian. Reluctantly, you translate your worries to him.

“Do we deserve this?”

It stuns him.

“Yes, you do. You deserve to heal, to be happy,” he chokes out. Steve won’t admit how horrible it is to watch the both of you like this. So worn down and unsure. You never used to doubt yourself, always confident in your skills and wants.

But now you’re blaming yourself for murders you were forced to commit.

Bucky clenches his fist. “They took so much.” There’s no need for elaboration. “We’re not the same people we were back then, Stevie. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” He takes the brunet’s hand. “You two are everything I want and all of the reasons I want it. None of us are the same.”

Slowly absorbing his words, the three of you lay down on the large bed, arranging for Bucky to be in the middle. Normally, that’s your spot, but you’re more than willing to abdicate for tonight.

“You’re too smart for your own good,” you chuckle, kissing Steve’s forehead before burrowing into Bucky’s side. Gently running your hand over the web of scars surrounding his shoulder, you allow your powers to flow for the first time in weeks.

A dim glow travels around the veins, casting golden light on the silver prosthetic. Even the residual power calms you as you trace small circles. When the nerves are a bit less inflamed, you stop, and he takes your hand, pressing his lips to your palm.

Steve mimics his motion on his metal hand, never batting an eye when it whirs and shifts.

“Love you both,” Bucky whispers. You parrot it back, the dim light of the TV casting a blue glow on you.

The blond speaks, muffled by his pillow. “Whatever happens, whenever it happens, we’ll face it together, okay?”

You link pinkies with both of them in succession.

“Deal.”

———————————————————————

“Whatever” ended up being the final trial, and “whenever” ended up being four days from then. Tony’s legal team had dragged in a large screen and started up HYDRA footage for the jury.

Even if they’d warned you in advance, you hated watching yourself succumb to the trigger words. It was almost as bad as watching Bucky do the same.

As your screams echoed through the room, many in the jury turned away. Not that you could blame them; it was a grisly sight. Tubes stuck out of your arms and the empty look in your eyes bored through any screen or recording.

But now it was time for the final verdict. You hung on every word, wings fluttering as a representative of the jury stepped forwards.

Her opening speech flies over your head, but then, she turns to you with a small smile.

“We, the members of the jury, find the defendants-“

Ross still has a smug grin on his face, but his confidence all drops away.

“-Not guilty.”

Your hands fly to cover your mouth, eyes watering as the trial concludes. Many reporters are clapping, and the judge offers a polite nod to the three of you before exiting.

You, Bucky, and Steve are instantly in the middle of a group hug, even as Vision awkwardly hovers around.

“We can get you two to Wakanda, T’Challa promised that his sister could help with getting those trigger words out of your heads,” Tony begins, still mid-hug.

Nat rolls her eyes. “Tony-“

“And once that’s done we can get you training, and even start missions if you feel comfortable,” he continues.

The redhead grabs him by the shirt, tugging him away and ushering the rest of the team with her.

“Let the lovebirds have their moment,” she chuckles once they get far enough away.

Sam runs right into the billionaire as he stops in his tracks.

“Lovebirds? What?”

Back in the courtroom, the three of you are still soaking in what this means for you.

“What do you guys want to do first, now that you aren’t enemies of the state?” Steve asks, leaning against a bench.

“I wanna go on a road trip,” Bucky hums. “Take a break before everything goes crazy.”

You nod. “Yeah, we could go down to the Grand Canyon like you always wanted.”

“You could fly it; that’d be cool,” he agrees.

The blond shakes his head. “You two are such nerds.”

Shrugging you stand to stretch from your seat. “You love us.”

Damn you and how right you are. He does. He loves you both a lot. And maybe now he can show it.

“Yeah, and I’d love to be able to kiss you two right now.” But it’s too public, and neither of you are ready. Or so he thinks.

“What, you want to tell everyone?” Bucky asks.

Steve blushes a bit. “Well- maybe not here, at the courthouse? That seems a bit… much.”

“Since when have you been one for subtlety?” you snort. “The only way you could be more noticeable is if you wore a traffic cone on your head.”

He falls silent, and you and Bucky exchange a look.

“Listen,” the latter begins. “We’re both comfortable with it if you are.” The last thing any of you want to do is push the others over their limits.

He thinks, really thinks about it, and steels his resolve. The three of you have waited long enough. “I’m ready.”

You entwine hands with Steve in the middle, and make your way to the front doors of the courthouse. The team is waiting, and Nat, Sam, Wanda, and Clint sport knowing grins. Tony looks a bit pale.

The crowd is bigger than usual today. More signs, more cameras.

“We didn’t really map out the logistics of this, did we?” Steve whispers. Bucky, apparently done with waiting, grabs him by the collar and pulls him in.

When they part for air, the brunet whispers, “Fuck logistics,” before Steve leans to kiss you, gently holding your face in his hands.

The crowd only screams louder, and, in a subtle bit of one-uppery that you recognize in Bucky instantly, he dips you in his kiss.

When you center yourself back in reality, the team is excitedly hurrying up to you. You can’t find it in yourself to give a shit about the crowd. Whether they’re clapping or screaming obscenities, they’re just background noise.

Wanda comes up to you, and without any warning, pulls you into another hug. Chuckling, you pat her back while listening to Tony rave.

“So, you three-“

“Yes, us three,” Steve interrupts.

Stark blinks for a moment. “Wait, you’ve all been sleeping on your tiny-ass bed?”

You shrug. “A queen bed is hardly tiny. We only had a full sized one back in our old apartment.”

“Yeah, but the three of you weren’t all squeezing on that one with your ten-foot wings and the extra inches on Cap,” Sam says.

You can see the gears turning in Tony’s head, but leave him to his scheming. Peter’s equally excited, shaking in place. Or that could be the energy drink he had. You weren’t sure.

“Scott, are you crying?” Rhodey asks over the crowd. The man sniffles before squeaking out, “No! I’m just… Ok yeah I’m crying.”

The rattling of the barriers is your cue to head out. Some of the crowd are pressing past the guards as you pass by.

An elderly man catches your eye, smiles, and tips his hat before disappearing in the throng of people.

Once in the bus again, you take your usual spot with your boys.

“You sure know how to stir up a crowd,” you laugh, taking Steve’s hand.

Bucky grins. “He’s been doing that since those USO tours-“

“Hey! You promised you wouldn’t bring those up,” the blond whines.

“They were really entertaining,” you hum. “Especially the first time I saw you and yelled at you in front of the whole camp.”

He only grumbles, placating when Bucky kisses his forehead and struggles to not laugh more.

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry,” he manages, smiling. You agree, gently tapping him with one wing.

Despite promising not to tease him further, you don’t let up until you get back to the compound, happily retiring to your rooms to change out of the stuffy formal wear.

You’re tugging on some pajama shorts when two arms wrap around you. One metal, one warm.

“Pasăre [bird].” You hum, leaning into the touch.

“Hi, Jamie.”

“‘M tired,” he whispers. You reach up to run a hand through his hair.

“You’re always either tired or hyper, love.” He shrugs, awkward due to your wings blocking the movement of his arms.

You hear familiar footsteps heading down the hallway. “Steve,” Bucky calls.

“Yeah?” The blond has a few bowls of fruit in his arms. “Figured you two were tired.”

“That’s what we were just saying.” You pluck a small orange from the bowl, peeling it slowly. “I think we should ask Shuri about it when we head down.”

“When’ll that be?” he asks. You shrug, discarding a spiral of orange peel in the bowl.

“I’m pretty happy with hanging around for a while,” Bucky says, laying down beside you two on the bed and taking an apple slice. He carefully avoids your wings from where you’re laying on your back.

You pop an orange slice free and pass it to Steve, and as you do so, notice a small cut on his finger.

Taking his hand, you roll over. “What did you do now?” you ask. It’s a tiny cut. Hardly worse than a paper cut.

“Nicked myself on the apple slicer. Turns out Nat sharpens the kitchen tools in her free time, ‘just in case’, whatever that means.” You chuckle.

“May I?”

He nods.

As you work, Steve watches you. He’s always done a lot of observing. It’s how he got good at art, how he got good at strategizing, and, eventually, leading.

He’s never seen a close-up of your powers on him. The last time you used them on him, he was, to be blunt, dying on the banks of the Potomac.

He knows that Bucky knows your powers well. They’re like a safe space for him. They provide memories that aren’t just the cold walls of HYDRA.

But they’re new to Steve. The first thing he notices is how your hands move. With Wanda’s powers, her hands are tense and shaking. The sheer force of the power she holds looks almost painful.

Your hands twist and bend in fluid motions, and though they have the slightest tremble, the differences are like night and day.

The second thing he notices is, well, the powers themselves. The only magic he’s encountered is Thor’s and Wanda’s. Maybe Vision, if the Mind Stone counts. All of their powers radiate a humming noise. It crackles and reminds you of their destructive force.

Your powers are silent. And they almost bloom from your hands. The gold light floats into small shapes, before fading away. When the light touches the cut, the skin sews itself back together.

“…Wow,” he breathes out. You tilt your head.

“What?”

He holds up his hand. “‘What?’? You just healed my hand, sweetheart, I’d say that warrants a ‘wow’.”

“Or two,” Bucky cuts in, pecking Steve’s hand from over your shoulder. You grin when the latter blushes, the slowly setting sun barely peeking through the curtains.

The three of you are tangled together, talking in hushed voices as your hands trail over each other.

Maybe you’re tired all the time now. Maybe the nightmares come every night and the public deems you a killer. And maybe they’re right in some ways.

But you have your boys the way you wanted them all this time. You have a little room and friends who care about you and two bowls of fruit and a TV that you only watch documentaries and cooking shows on.

And you think that that more than makes up for it.

[dankusner]

Bobulinski

We’ve told you a few fun things about yesterday’s hilarious failure of a hearing in the House Oversight Committee.

Shockingly, heavy breathing yapmouth Tony Bobulinski did not reveal the smoking gun, nor did Jason Cow Anus or whatever the one who was in jail’s name is. 

Reformed Rudy Giuliani associate Lev Parnas was pretty great, as he explained how committee chair James Comer’s entire investigation is part of a Russian intelligence plot to hurt America that’s been running for almost 10 years. 

My name is Tony Bobulinski.

The facts set forth below are true and accurate; they are not any form of domestic or foreign disinformation.

Any suggestion to the contrary is false and offensive.

I am the recipient of the email published seven days ago by the New York Post which showed a copy to Hunter Biden and Rob Walker.

That email is genuine.

This afternoon I received a request from the Senate Committee on Homeland Security and Government Affairs and the Senate Committee on Finance requesting all documents relating to my business affairs with the Biden family as well as various foreign entities and individuals.

I have extensive relevant records and communications and I intend to produce those items to both Committees in the immediate future.

I am the grandson of a 37 year Army Intelligence officer, the son of a 20+ year career Naval Officer and the brother of a 28 year career Naval Flight Officer.

I myself served our country for 4 years and left the Navy as LT Bobulinski.

I held a high level security clearance and was an instructor and then CTO for Naval Nuclear Power Training Command.

I take great pride in the time my family and I served this country.

I am also not a political person.

What few campaign contributions I have made in my life were to Democrats.

If the media and Big Tech companies had done their jobs over the past several weeks I would be irrelevant in this story.

Given my long standing service and devotion to this great country, I could no longer allow my family’s name to be associated or tied to Russian disinformation or implied lies and false narratives dominating the media right now.

After leaving the military I became an institutional investor investing extensively around the world and on every continent.

I have traveled to over 50 countries.

I believe, hands down, we live in the greatest country in the world.

What I am outlining is fact.

I know it is fact because I lived it.

I am the CEO of Sinohawk Holdings which was a partnership between the Chinese operating through CEFC/Chairman Ye and the Biden family.

I was brought into the company to be the CEO by James Gilliar and Hunter Biden.

The reference to “the Big Guy” in the much publicized May 13, 2017 email is in fact a reference to Joe Biden.

The other “JB” referenced in that email is Jim Biden, Joe’s brother.

Hunter Biden called his dad ‘the Big Guy’ or ‘my Chairman,’ and frequently referenced asking him for his sign-off or advice on various potential deals that we were discussing.

I’ve seen Vice President Biden saying he never talked to Hunter about his business.

I’ve seen firsthand that that’s not true, because it wasn’t just Hunter’s business, they said they were putting the Biden family name and its legacy on the line.

I realized the Chinese were not really focused on a healthy financial ROI.

return on investment....

They were looking at this as a political or influence investment.

Once I realized that Hunter wanted to use the company as his personal piggy bank by just taking money out of it as soon as it came from the Chinese, I took steps to prevent that from happening.

The Johnson Report connected some dots in a way that shocked me — it made me realize the Bidens had gone behind my back and gotten paid millions of dollars by the Chinese, even though they told me they hadn’t and wouldn’t do that to their partners.

I would ask the Biden family to address the American people and outline the facts so I can go back to being irrelevant — and so I am not put in a position to have to answer those questions for them.

I don’t have a political ax to grind; I just saw behind the Biden curtain and I grew concerned with what I saw.

The Biden family aggressively leveraged the Biden family name to make millions of dollars from foreign entities even though some were from communist controlled China.

God bless America.

[irismydude]

A significant amount of time later:

1-2 months

The ADHD brain made me completely forget that I had made this about and so I did not post. Ugh. The constant battle with my mind to actually perform tasks.

Hi! I’m back with an update. It’s been almost 3 years since I began hormones. I began with patches and elevated to estrodial injections eventually moving to progesterone. I noticed initial changes following a few months regarding bust size and hip size. My leg and arm hair grew back slower and my face got softer. As for a few more physical notices I had no change in my performance and even looked into preemptive hormone additions in case my lower section decided to not work, luckily that did not happen and I do not have a particular interest in bottom surgery.

Over the past few years emotionally, i would say I’ve encountered a lot. To go back to the first week would be like going in a Time Machine. I was still intensively undergoing therapy as I had tried to end my life prior to transitioning, due to immense instability when presenting as the gender I was not aligned with. While at this hospital I slowly began changing things about me such as my name, pronouns and my image.

I met with a hospital appointed therapist and presented as Iris in the hopes that I could find some solace for the battlefield that was my mental health. All sides of me were at war to take over and my previous therapist wondered if I had DID. I had already put my parents through death, loss, rehab, relapse, assault, PTSD, etc. I wanted to finally lose myself. And it’s difficult to explain what that looked like.

Through my meetings members encouraged me to invest in wigs, begin changing other things about my self, and that most of all I was loved and accepted. My family wasn’t completely in love with the idea of validation and my friends virtually never validated me because it seemed like to them I was constantly getting in my own way and destroying life around me. It was here that I learned how to accept being loved and cared for, in a healthy way. When others actually lift you up you don’t struggle nearly as much as when you tell yourself they do.

A conversation in particular I can remember was with my therapist. I was explaining how I wasn’t aware that gender was changeable and that I did not have to be stuck living in the Hell that was my body. I told her how much stock I put into being loved by others and finding love for myself. She said: “would you rather be loved by all and no one to know who you really are, or loved by a few who truly know and accept you, and understand who you are.” I couldn’t fathom how people had the strength to be so different from the flow of society. I knew that my walls were crumbling, my mental health was eating itself alive and that my days were numbered from the scars on my body. I knew that it was time for me to try anything to stop the pain.

When we had family sessions my parents would come in, treat me like an alien and leave for the most part. They could not understand how their child could be different. They couldn’t comprehend their own fear of how society would treat them. Our discussions with the therapist left them jarred and in need of explanation. How is someone trans? How do they know? What does it mean? Would they rather die? So many questions that rattled around in their brain, yet how could I answer? For all I had figured out then was that I did not want to die. For the first few years they argued with me about gender ideals, name changes and surgeries regarding the trans experience.

Eventually I was able to communicate clearly that these things were essential in finding myself and being clear in what I needed from life. That independence can look like a number of things. My father continued misgendering me and my mother tried her best to accommodate. While at work I was harassed by men, and found to be curious by women. Most of my conversations revolved around answering questions for cis women and telling men to fuck off.

For a long time, at least early transition the experience was tumultuous and completely jarring how different I was treated. My boss considered me less than efficient when just a few months prior I was considered to be the night shift manager, when I walked in anywhere I became noticed almost immediately, people asked invasive questions and would either find me repulsive or mildly interesting, and above all I had many people ask if I needed help as if I was incompetent. I made many female identifying friends and finding a partner became slightly more bearable as people were not afraid of me, much like the other way round. I was afraid of them. However, cis girls were very kind to me and I very rarely encountered a woman who did not at least compliment one thing about me. I received notes from men that were vulgar, death threats and so on. It was amazing how quickly the so called strong bonded strong minded men could so quickly deny the existence of something and outright abuse that existence.

I had many times where I knew where I stood in my gender identity and people would attempt to change it using their own ideals to try to manipulate my life and the path I’d chosen. I spent many nights crying and asking why I had been cursed, why my life had come to look like this, and I self harmed once more. Though this time I threw myself into tattoos and made it my very expensive hobby.

I finished my arm sleeve tattoo based on the anime Tokyo Ghoul and Kaneki’s struggle with identity. I found a partner I enjoyed being around and who accepted me for how I was, and things began to look different in outcome. I decided to leave my shitty job and try to outsource into the city. Over the course of all these experiences it had only been 2 or 3 months. I had a lot more to go through yet.

[fouldestinyllama]

My Life with Narcissists

The cleaning I do, depends on how I feel like it. Since I don’t sleep in the main bedroom, I leave it as it is if I’m not up for it. So let all the noises pass because it is what it is.

My investment of energy, depends on how much I am able to put into them. It’s logical, right? That’s the healthy way to live life. It is same with emotional energy, and the strength of the mind to think about things.

This llama unicorn has gone through so much in life. After all the shadow work to go through her CPTSD that she never knew she had for the past few years, she manages her energy dimensions better.

I have felt and made to believe that I have not given enough or done enough for others. Exhausted at one point that I was just tired of being tired. I was exhausted of living in fogginess. I was tired of not knowing where I was in life. And to eventually come to realise that I didn’t even know who I was.

It bothered me that people keep wanting something from me, even when they too didn’t know what they wanted from me. And why I had to figure them out for them. And why the efforts never really satisfied then to see who I was or what I have sacrificed for them.

The broken trusts and me shouldering their responsibilities, and having them tell me I didn’t do good enough really broke me. I was just left there, holding my hands out telling ng them, I have nothing else to give. I didn’t even have any left for myself.

When I started to collect myself slowly, I was ridiculed for changing. To even reward myself new things or just getting myself the things that spark joy within me. Trying to tell me that I was ridiculous to spend my money on me. But they weren’t investing in me. I was the one spending mine on them instead; but I was the one who’s wrong.

Things were dark for me. For the rejection and abandonment. No matter what I did or tried to prove that I was worthy was ever good enough for them.

I began to do work on me. Going through the hurt and pain I have suffered. Found sessions with therapists and worked through them on myself.

I learnt of needing to realise that I am worthy. I must be the one to know that I am worthy to myself. I must be the one compassionate to myself. I must be the one to love me.

Slowly I shut myself of social media. Turned myself into a hermit. Lived in own world. Cried my eyeballs out until it became dry — when I never could cry before because I was so numb.

Situations kept happening for me. I was still fearful of people and shaking every time I stood up for myself or even to ignore requests. It kept going until I realise one day, my body no longer respond the way I did then.

I can’t lie that it took me years. I thought I have done well enough to be in a different stage of life, I wasn’t. I was angry and upset. But as the same cycle I had to learn to have a grasp of myself, I learnt to understand that my trauma had been so intense that I still had lengths to go.

And how did this post come from just cleaning the bathrooms and laundry? Perhaps this is cleaning out the baggage that I need to let go. I want to have space for the myself now and the future self. I don’t baggage for my life because they weigh me down.

I have found peace. And I want that peace. Even if peace means knowing I have done two loads of laundry, folded two baskets of clothes and underwear; and to clear the two loads I’ve put out to dry earlier. On top of the bathroom that I have scrubbed to an hour earlier.

I love myself enough to realise that I like clean bathrooms. That even if I hate sorting out my own wardrobe, I like the practicality of having clean clothes.

So I must shower, and wash my hair now.

This post has been good for me. Good job to me.

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 17

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 17

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3300 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   Part 11   Part 12   Part 13   Part 14   Part 15  Part 16

Part 17

Billy couldn’t stop gawking at you, wondering how it was possible you grew more beautiful each time he saw you. The red wrap dress you were wearing accentuated all your curves, and it took every bit of willpower he had not to rip it off of you and fuck you senseless right then and there. Unfortunately, he had to behave himself. Caravan was a pretty bouji place that had recently been labelled as one of the hottest restaurants in Manhattan and he had to pull a few strings to get a last-minute reservation for tonight. But seeing the smile on your face when you realized this was where you were dining had been completely worth all the hassle.

As the hostess guided the two of you to your table, he noticed a few assholes at the bar admiring you from afar. Immediately he snaked his arm around your waist to draw you in closer. You were his. If he could he’d pluck out every one of those fuckers’ eyes so they never made the mistake of looking at you again. Better yet, he’d keep you locked behind closed doors. Of course you wouldn’t agree to anything like that because you were too goddamn independent for your own good.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, taking a seat at your designated table.

Billy’s attention returned to your face as he followed suit, his gaze inhaling you in. “You look too hot. Too many assholes staring at you,” he grumbled.

The worried look on your face was replaced with a beaming smile, one that made his cock twitch.

“You’re being ridiculous” you remarked, scanning the menu.

His eyes drifted down to your chest, the swell of your soft, supple breasts just begging to be kissed and licked by him.

“Stop staring at my boobs, Billy,” you chastised even as a small smile graced your lips. “This is a proper first date. You can’t just ogle me like that. You have to behave like a gentleman.”

He quirked his eyebrow. “Sweetheart, I’ve never been that.”

“Well, try,” you ordered.

The waitress came by with the bottle of red wine you’d requested and poured some in both of your glasses. He noticed the redhead giving him a friendly smile, her green eyes lingering on him for a second too long. Fine, yeah, she may have been hot but she wasn’t you. No one was. So while he would have happily slipped her his number in the past, now the idea of being with someone who wasn’t you no longer excited him.

Once she left, he took the opportunity to move a few inches closer to you. What he really wanted was to get on his knees and bury his head between your legs, but something told him eating you out in in the crowded restaurant wouldn’t go over very well with you.

“I think she likes you.”

Hand propped on the back of your chair, he started playing with your hair. “Who?”

“Our waitress. She didn’t look at me once, her eyes were on you the entire time.”

He leaned in, ecstatic at the thought of you acting possessive. Even though you’d confessed to having feelings for him, Billy still worried you were ready to bolt at any moment. To see you jealous meant you genuinely cared and he didn’t have to worry about you leaving him. “She’s not my type. I have my eyes on someone else.”

You made a show of looking around the restaurant. “Oh, is Madani here too?”

“Funny,” he retorted, taking your hand in his.

“Your ginger’s lucky. I’m dressed way too nice or I’d take my knife and stab her with it.”

He smirked. “You’re vicious when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I just don’t like bad service.”

“Bullshit.”

“Billy, you’re hot. You know that. All the women here are checking you out. If I freaked out every time someone did that, I’d have a breakdown.”

He wanted to destroy the fucking world at the thought of someone even looking at you but apparently you were simply ambivalent about him. “So it’s that easy for you? Your brain tells you to turn off a feeling and your heart just does it?” Even to his own ears he sounded bitter. “Guess you’re not all that invested in me.”

Your eyebrow quirked up, apparently surprised by his edgy tone. “Do you want me to go nuts?”

“Just want you to give a damn.”

“You think I don’t?” you snapped. “Every time she looks at you I want to tear her hair out. Even though the rational part of me knows she’s probably just flirting with you because it’s part of her job or she’s hoping for big tips. Or maybe she really does want to fuck you. Either way, I want to punch her across the face. Happy?” You gulped down your wine.

Grinning, he squeezed your hand. “Then why not just tell me that? Why act like you don’t care?”

The agitated expression on your face was replaced with tenderness, your eyes soft. “Just because I don’t have a jealous fit doesn’t mean I don’t care. I just…” You exhaled a sigh, and he sensed this was difficult for you. “I express my emotions differently than you.”

“I noticed. You put on an act while holding everything in.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“But I want you, the real you, not the version everyone else sees.”

“It’s not that easy, Billy.”

He brought your palm to his lips. “I’d never told anyone about my mother.”

“You didn’t tell me either,” you pointed out.

“You found out anyway, and I’m so fucking glad you did. Otherwise I wouldn’t have realized I could be real with you.” He placed a tender kiss on your skin. “I don’t want to hide anything from you, Y/N.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Then tell me about William Rawlins.”

Your request gave him pause, his eyes roaming over your face. He’d taken painstaking measures to keep his partnership with Rawlins a secret yet you’d discovered it. “What do you want to know?”

“He gave you a lot of money.”

“I earned that money,” he said in a defensive tone. “He and I were partners for a while. Then he died.”

“You went to a lot of trouble to hide your connection to him.”

“You found out about it though.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m good at what I do.”

“Yeah, too good,” he muttered. He released your hand, watching you intently. “So what do you want to know?”

You leaned in closer, your voice barely above a whisper. He was momentarily distracted by the sensation of your tits pressed against him but he forced himself to concentrate.

“What happened to Rawlins, did you have anything to do with it?”

Billy took a swig of his wine. “Why do you think that?”

You quirked your eyebrow at him. “Knifed by someone in the parking lot. They never found the guy who did it.”

“He had a lot of enemies,” he pointed out.

“Okay, so maybe I was wrong.”

He studied you for several seconds, trying to decide if he should take the leap or not. “You’re not wrong.”

Realization dawned on your face as the truth set in. “Why did you do it?”

“You sure you want to know?”

“I’m asking, aren’t I?”

So he told you, about Operation Cerberus, his role in it and the money he earned, how he’d eliminated Rawlins a year ago when the prick plotted to take out Frank and his family. To this day Frank didn’t know about Billy’s partnership with Rawlins or how close he came to dying and he intended to keep it that way.

Throughout his confession his eyes were glued to your face, gauging your reactions. The part of him determined to do anything to be a success, the one who didn’t let society’s morals get in the way of his ambitions, would never be accepted by his closest friends. Despite the myriad of reasons to have kept that side of himself hidden, he didn’t want to do that with you. Because as risky as it was to be so open with you, it was also exhilarating. There was no one in this world he’d ever been this honest with and that kind of intense connection with you was addictive. He wanted you to know everything about him, all of the dark and vicious thoughts that ran through his head, the burning ambition that kept pushing him forward. He wanted you to know him inside and out and he wanted the same from you.

Before he could prod you to speak your mind the server came by with your dishes, setting your meals on the table. The redhead took her time, all the whilst your gaze was focused on the table, avoiding his. Billy’s heart started to pound in his chest, he was suddenly filled with doubt. Had he made a mistake in telling you the truth? Did he just completely fuck this up? Every second the goddamn redhead lingered at the table felt like an eternity when all he wanted was to shake you out of your stupor.

The second the server left, he moved in on you. “Are you gonna say something?”

You finally looked at him, your forehead burrowed. “We need to do a better job of hiding your history with Rawlins. I found it, that means someone else can too.”

“You gonna help me with that?”

You shook your head ‘yes’. “Yeah, I have to. You need me.”

“What I did doesn’t bother you?”

You exhaled a heavy sigh. “Of course it does, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You’ve seen me at my worst and you didn’t judge me. I won’t do that to you either. Besides, when the universe deals you a shitty hand you’ve got to find other ways to even out your odds.”

A strange feeling of warmth flooded over him, compelling him to angle forward and kiss you on the lips.

You pulled away a second later, smiling at him as you rubbed the corner of his mouth. “This lipstick isn’t kiss-proof.”

“I don’t care.” Wicked visions of you flashed through his mind. Your bold red lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him off the way he liked it. His cum spread over your tits, your neck, your lips. The taste of your sweet, delicious cunt on his tongue as he fucked you with his mouth. The heat of your tongue against his as he rammed into you over and over-

“Stop looking at me like that,” you warned.

“Then stop looking so hot,” he snarked.

You smiled, biting down on your bottom lip.

It blew his mind how sweet and shy you were when he paid you compliments, like you didn’t expect that from him. Obviously he needed to fix that, because you deserved to know how insanely beautiful you were all the time.

“Has Anvil been okay without Rawlins?” you asked, taking a bite out of your butternut squash ravioli.

Swallowing his steak, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “It was tough for a while but we’ve been doing pretty well the last few months.”

“You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished, Billy. You took a big risk going into business for yourself and you made it work. That’s amazing. I could never do that.”

Billy’s insides radiated with happiness. Other than Curtis and Frank he never really had people who genuinely believed in him so to have you cheering him on was exalting. Especially considering you were great at what you did and he had so much respect for you.

He poured himself and you more wine before reaching for your hand again. “I think you could. You’d make a shitload of money if you freelanced.”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No way, I’m too much of a coward to take a risk like that.” You took a sip of your wine. “Plus I get to go to Paris for work.”

“Or you could go to Paris on vacation and not work.”

“Then I’d have to pay for it,” you pointed out, grinning. “When you grow up the way I did, you learn to appreciate free things.”

Your enthusiasm was infectious, he couldn’t hep but smile back. A part of him was hoping this would be the perfect opening for you to talk more about your childhood, about everything you went through, because he desperately wanted you to trust him as much as he trusted you with his secrets.

“I’ll be there for two weeks,” you continued, oblivious to his disappointment. “We’re going to scout out locations for the new branch and-”

“We?” Billy interjected.

You cast him a quick glance. “Roger’s coming with me on the trip.”

The jealousy that struck him felt like a swift kick to his gut. Images of you and that goddamn bastard traipsing around and enjoying romantic date nights in Paris assaulted his mind. Agitated, he pulled his hand from yours. “I bet that fucker can’t wait to be alone with you.”

“Billy, come on. You can’t be serious.”

“How would you feel if I took off with someone who wanted to fuck me?”

“First of all, he doesn’t want me.”

His jaw clenched with frustration as he glared at you. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s thought about fucking you.”

“Even if he does, I don’t want him.” You reached out to cup his face, your voice so soft and tender in your attempts to placate him that he momentarily forgot how upset he was. “You really think I’d jeopardize what we have for a fling with Roger? I wouldn’t do that.”

“Then don’t go. Turn him down.”

Irritation flickered over your face, he could tell you were done coddling him. “Billy, you have no right to ask me that. I’d never interfere with your work.”

Underneath all that jealousy he knew you were right. As much as he despised the idea of you going away to Paris with another guy, he couldn’t demand that you not go on work trips. If you did that to him, it would annoy the fuck out of him. Yet despite his rational side recognizing he was asking for too much, he couldn’t help but feel bitter. “That asshole’s gonna make a move on you, I know it.”

“What if he does? What do you think is gonna happen?”

Hs eyes met yours, urgently seeking some kind of validation from you. “You tell me.”

“Do you think I’m going to sleep with him?”

He flinched. “Don’t talk about fucking another guy, please. You’re gonna make me lose my appetite.”

You took his hand and placed it over your left breast, probably to distract him from all the disgusting images that were running through his brain. “I wanted you so badly and even then it took me like a month to fuck you. Trust me, I’m not going to sleep with him when I’m not even attracted to him.”

Spotting the earnestness in your eyes, the knot in his stomach finally loosened. Roger may have had a hard-on for you but Billy knew you felt nothing for the fucker. He’d noticed that even at the night of the gala. So that meant he had to trust you, there was no reason not to. “Call me every night when you’re there,” he grumbled.

“Every night? You’re probably going to start blocking my calls,” you laughed.

He booped your nose. “Every. Fucking. Night.”

You beamed. “Fine.” A wicked glint flashed in your eyes, a seductive smile on your lips as you slowly moved his hand lower, his fingers now on your nipple. “Hey, just ‘cause you’re not there with me doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”

He stroked your nipple over the fabric of your dress, enjoying how the nub hardened under his touch, the way your breath hitched in your throat when he continued his ministrations. With his other hand he tucked your hair behind your ear, whispering to you. “Phone sex is alright, but nothing beats this.” His tongue curved along the shell of your ear, and you trembled against him. “Right?”

The waitress seemed to come out of nowhere this time to ask how your meals were, and you jumped back. Disappointed, he sighed.

“Food was great. Thank you,” you replied, smiling stiffly at the redhead.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Privacy would be great,” Billy muttered.                                                            

You kicked him under the table. “Dessert menu?”

“Sure. I’ll bring it right over,” the waitress said, taking your plates away.  

“I’ll give you all the sugar you want once we get outta here,” he murmured seductively, caressing your thigh.

You giggled, rolling your eyes. “That’s a terrible line!” You took his hand and removed it from your thigh. “Billy, I’m not sleeping with you tonight.”

“Why not?”                                                      

“Because it’s our first date and I don’t put out on the first date.”

“Now that’s a terrible line,” he fired back, mimicking your earlier tone.

“Also, we already had sex this morning.”

“So? I’m greedy. I can’t get enough of you.” There was that shy smile of yours again, and he reached out to give you a sweet peck on the cheek. “You blush every time I tease you.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, it’s adorable.”

Your cheeks grew even more red. “I’m not used to it from you. A part of me still thinks you’re bullshitting me.”

Billy stiffened. “Really?”

“I know you’re not playing me,” you reassured. “It’s on me, not you. I just have a hard time accepting when good things happen.”

The waitress came by with the dessert menu. He briefly glanced at it before ordering a slice of pecan pie while you ordered a piece of chocolate cake.

As soon as the redhead left, he broached the topic with you again. “I’m not gonna hurt you, babe. You have to believe that.”

You didn’t look at him, your eyes fixed somewhere on his chest. “I do. You were so pissed off at me last night. I honestly expected you to hit me because you were so angry. But you didn’t.”

It made him sick to his stomach that you actually thought him capable of hitting you. It hadn’t even occurred to him that you would worry about that, but of course you would. With your childhood it made perfect sense, he was just a fucking idiot who hadn’t realized how much it still impacted you. “I’m never gonna lay a hand on you. I swear.” His eyes locked with yours, hoping you can sense how much he meant those words.

“I believe you.”

His voice was insistent, his gaze boring into you. “Why did you think I would?”

Your eyes wavered from his eyes to his lips for a long time, the atmosphere thick with tension. Your facial expressions ran the gamut of painful emotions, from uncertainty to fear to sheer panic.

It finally sank in that maybe the reason you were keeping the truth from him had noting to do with if you trusted him or not. Maybe you didn’t want to be assaulted by memories from the past that caused you so much pain. The last thing he wanted was for you to experience that hell again. Regretting his demanding tone, his hands caressed down the length of your arms. “You don’t have to tell me, It’s okay.”

Your eyes brimmed with aching vulnerability as you looked up at him. “I want to… I just… give me some time, okay?” You pressed your lips against his, giving him the softest, sweetest kiss. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight for so long, I don’t want to ruin it, you know?”

His heart felt full, his mind reeling with wonderment at the thought of you truly reciprocating his feelings. His arms wrapped around you as you sank into him, burying your face in his chest. His fingers stroked the back of your hair, murmuring soft, soothing words to you. Somewhere in the distance he heard the server’s voice trying to interject, but he didn’t give a damn.  He was yours and you were his and nothing was going to ruin that. Nothing.

Part 18

A/N - I realize not much happened in this chapter but I just reallly wanted to write a dialogue heavy part where they simply get to know and enjoy each other. I think they’ve earned some fluff. LOL.

As always, thank you for your kind words of encouragement. Please let me know your thoughts.

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[sukirichi]

earned it [07]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. explicit smut, pool sex, slight angst, i miss naoya :(, mafia business, mentions of blood, lots of drama, mentions of death and murder

note. IDEK ANYMORE. lmao anyways do you guys want faster updates or do you guys want to wait? i can finish the series next week and then we can move on to white lies 😈

series masterlist

The three of you were seated back at your tables, where the whole dancing fiasco had thankfully ended. Satoru noticed nothing of your behavior – either he was really clueless, or you were a damn good actor – the guy was much too invested with the files Nanami was currently showing.

For a moment, you let yourself loosen as you took a deep breath. The account was much more important than whatever Nanami was scheming.

“I think I may have found where the real money is, or treasure, we should say, since none of us can really figure out what the Zen’ins might be hiding. And from the looks of it, considering Naoya had no idea about what his family kept prior to his death, this is something only his elders wanted to know about,” Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding a photo of an unsuspecting white manor that you hadn’t seen in a long time. “And it’s been right under our nose the whole time.”

“That’s one of our islands,” you replied with a furrowed brow, “Are you saying you traced the source back there? But that’s impossible, we haven’t used that island for years and even Naoya told me he was going to sell it because it was of no use to us. It’s not on commercial waters and there’s no local people around either. That island is in the middle of nowhere.”

“This is exactly why it’s the best place to hide things – because no one would ever suspect this seemingly harmless middle of nowhere could contain their assets.”

Satoru, who’d kept silent the whole time, inched closer to you. His cologne wafting off to you eased you for a moment – purely because it was familiar – and even though you despised saying it, you were thankful he was here. Currently, the blond man posed a bigger threat, the difference being that Nanami actually had leverage against you while you had more control over Satoru.

You sighed. If Naoya was here, things would’ve been so much better. He never lost his composure in figuring things out on his own. But now that he was gone, now that he’d never be coming back, you had be responsible for his sake, but mostly for yours.

“Take a look at this. The nearest land is a small, uncharted city from Brazil’s outskirts. I’ve been illegally transporting weaponry and firearms somewhere near there since our family started the business – it’s the easiest place to sneak in things without getting caught. All you need to do is pay a few fishermen and they’ll easily transport our load from one place to another, no questions asked,” Satoru announced, seemingly deep in thought as he rubbed his chin. “It would make sense if the Zen’in clan elders found this place useful too. It’s basically a hot site for criminals.”

“But we don’t operate this way. The Zen’in elders are too prideful to handle transactions like this. They would’ve chosen a more…discreet yet formal way of handling things.”

“How does an underwater passage sound?” Nanami pushed the other photo aside to reveal a blurry snap of what seemed like a tunnel under the sea. On the surface, it looked just like an abandoned rig, but it stretched too long, the exterior already covered in mold and seaweed. “About 80 years ago, the Zen’in Clan leader at that time was often heavily targeted by their enemies in business that they preferred to travel under the sea. If my theory is correct, right under that island would be another base of some sort that allows the clan leaders move from one country to another while remaining undetected.”

“So that’s how they easily sent their own shit overseas…”

“It would be a very sound conclusion to assume so,” Nanami crossed his arms at Satoru’s musings, “However, that’s all I know. All I can tell you is where I last got the signal for the source – which is about seven years ago, and a few months right after Toji Zen’in was disowned by his family when Naobito took over. It would also be near around the time he met his wife and had his child, which would increase the possibilities that he may have stored something in this island for his son’s future. Again, it could be money, gold – we don’t really know,” he nodded your way, a sense of finality behind those blue eyes that had now looked so menacing when once it brought you comfort – reassurance. “How you get there is all up to you.”

Something didn’t feel right.

“If the elders really wanted to hide this place, they wouldn’t have passed the rights of the island into my inheritance when Naoya died. They surely wouldn’t have wanted me to find out about this.”

“I could think of two things,” Satoru proposed, “It’s either they trust your potential enough as the clan leader to replace Naoya, or they didn’t think you’d care anyway.”

You let his words sink in. The clan elders have never bothered much with you. They were too prideful about “saving face” and “keeping up images” that they couldn’t even let a word of insult slip past their lips under the belief they were above that. But you weren’t stupid; they had never approved of your marriage to Naoya. An outsider like you, suddenly becoming a part of their family when they could’ve had your husband marry a family friend?

They may have kept silent about their dislike to you, but one way or another, they were going to take action for it.

Knowing the Zen’ins, being a Zen’in, you knew there was one thing they hated the most: not being in control.

“Neither,” you finally concluded while mumbling down at your lap. The theory was hazy, incomplete, based only on mere emotions but slowly, you were coming together to piece it. You felt Satoru turn your way, his large hand caressing your knee as if coaxing the words out of you. “It’s neither. Naoya’s elders…they never liked me. It’s been made pretty clear to me that I’m dispensable without my husband, and I will never be a Zen’in in their eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if they asked me to give up all my inheritance from Naoya because I’m not related to them by blood.”

The silence in the table stretched.

No matter how grandiose the hotel restaurant may be, you felt suffocated in that seat. How didn’t you realize it sooner? You were in a land that stretched past your territory, with both men accompanying you people you couldn’t wholeheartedly trust, while your husband rotted away back at home – probably covered in dust and not even given a proper burial like he deserved.

There was only one way out of this, to put an end to everything. It would prove to be a daunting task, but you didn’t have a choice. No, in fact, this was your only choice if you wanted to survive.

Satoru’s voice softened upon seeing the grimness of how you turned mum. “I’ll follow you wherever you go. I promise to help you in finding out whatever is in there,” he met your eyes; yours filled with contempt, with fear, with desperation, and his filled with regret. “It’s the least I could do…after everything I’ve done to you.”

You took a deep breath.

You couldn’t lie to yourself. There was no way you could trust him with his empty promises. He’d shown enough times that he wasn’t a man of his word, and you’d be a fool to fall for it again. However, Nanami’s glance was curious and suspecting, hiding his true colors with an innocent gesture of sipping his wine. He may seem unbothered and only here to ‘help’, but this man was cunning, possibly more so than Naoya could ever be, and one wrong move would be similar to stepping on a land mine.

Satoru received no response from you, and soon the three of you were standing outside the hotel’s lobby to escort Nanami back where he came from. The dinner was tense, so much so that you’d unknowingly been clutching Satoru’s bicep the whole time.

He tapped your shoulder, bringing you back to life as he gestured to his phone. “Sorry, it’s Geto.”

“Oh,” you muttered and stepped away from him, feeling your heart sink in your chest as you watched him retreat behind the glass doors. Beside you, Nanami snickered.

“Made up your mind, agent?” he taunted, “This is your final chance to prove yourself. Gather enough intel for us to intrude whatever that mighty clan is hiding underneath that island, surrender Gojo to us, and we’ll give you everything as promised.”

You faced him with fiery eyes, prepared for whatever he’d throw your way when he showed you that cursed red coin again. Realizing its power, the true meaning it held, you immediately shut your lips. It must’ve satisfied to know he was the one in charge here, and how could he not be when your life was literally at the palm of his hands, your days growing more numbered if you didn’t follow everything he asked for?

If you had just…if you had just done everything the Organization had asked you for, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t have felt this torn.

Nanami flipped the coin before tucking it into his pocket, sending one last salute your way. He hailed a cab and disappeared afterwards, leaving you alone to ponder over the consequences of your actions, your emotions. For the first time in his life, Naoya had lied to you.

He wasn’t correct when he said you were strong.

Because after all this time, you still held onto something that you should’ve let go of a long time ago, and you had nothing but your weak, sensitive, hopeless heart to blame for. Said hurdle appeared not long afterwards, his touch warm on your shoulder as he gazed at the empty spot beside you.

“Oh, Nanami left,” he noted, turning your shoulders to him until you were completely exposed. There was no more hiding from him, or more like you didn’t have enough energy to. You felt dull, tiredness lining your eyes and lips pressed into a flat line. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Ten days. That was how much you’ve wasted your time here in Milan, and you weren’t even remotely close to figuring things out. Your resources were much more limited the farther you were from the Zen’in Estate, and your lawyer was a family one, meaning they held more loyalty to the actual Zen’ins instead of law-affiliated people like you were.

Simply put, you were all alone to solve this by yourself.

Satoru promised to help, but he kept disappearing in the morning along with Geto. You never asked where they went or what they did; it simply didn’t matter anymore.

You would only spend hours locked in your room as you researched everything you could on your private island near Brazil. Just like Satoru said, it seemed like the perfect place to hide things for the spot seemed remote enough to offer privacy for the family’s getaway. You could somewhat recall Naoya proposing once to take you there for your honeymoon, but business got in the way, and it wasn’t like you truly trusted him then to spend such an intimate with him that you said no.

Sighing, you put all the papers away. Not even a single clue led you to what could be possibly be there, but there was an underwater passage. The fact the Zen’ins was capable of building that made you wonder just what the extent of their powers and influence stretched to, and you contemplated for a bit if you could hold that same ability now that you had his name.

Whatever was there, you would look for it.

Your mission was clear – the success of it would determine the fate of your life. Find out what they’re hiding, surrender Satoru Gojo to the Organization, and then everything would be over.

It sounded simple, yet your heart knew it wasn’t. Naoya died with the confidence of his trust over you, the trust you worked so hard to earn. But wasn’t that point? You needed him to trust you for you to be able to pull this mission off, but things happened, emotions and conscience got in the way, and you banged your knuckles on the table until your ring throbbed on your finger.

You just wanted it all to end. You never meant to hurt Naoya, never meant to betray anyone, but it fucking pissed you off that Naoya wasn’t the real problem. He wasn’t the one holding you back.

With not much thought to your next actions, you slipped past the guards and into the pool that had long been closed since 10PM. Being at your room’s tub reminded you of memories you’d rather forget, and you slowly undid your robe and stepped out of your underwear before dipping in the cold, freezing water.

It felt good. It may have been temporary, but the numbing bite of the water helped you feel more placated. Even for a little while, it was nice to not worry about anything. There were no titles, no mafia drama, no anything, just you and the water that you would’ve easily fooled yourself to be simply enjoying your little trip in Milan until –

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You had me worried sick,” You sighed. Of course. Opening your eyes, you raised a brow as Satoru towered over you, a standard hotel towel in his arms. He’d change out of his suit and into cotton shorts and a shirt this time around, possibly on his way to sleep when he realized the room was empty. With no energy to deal with him, you swam away from the man, earning a groan in response. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve been acting weird ever since Nanami came. Listen, if this is about that island, you don’t have to worry too much about anything. I have enough people and resources to help you in every step of the way.”

You ignored him. After everything that happened, what was there to talk about anymore? Even if you told him everything, he might not understand.

So you swam in the middle of the pool, thankful that it was dark enough from the maintenance shutting the lights off that Satoru struggled to find you. However, you’d underestimated him because soon you heard the splashing of the water, and you were harshly tugged by the wrist before Satoru cornered you at the edge of the pool.

He was breathing hard; both of you were, and tried to push past his chest, only to be met with a solid plane of muscle that wouldn’t budge. You sighed and turned away from him, covering your exposed chest with your arms.

“Whatever Naoya is looking for…you’ll find it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious,” the scorn in his tone had been so biting you turned back to him, about to hit him with something, scold him for something, but your words died down in your throat before you even had the chance to.

Satoru hadn’t been demanding. His face, illuminated by the moonlight, made his azure eyes twinkle like stardust exploding. Once in your life, you found so much comfort into staring at such beauty, but that was when everything was still a perfect lie. Funny how the truth ruined everything for its darkness, and you could only look back at him weakly, throat running dry from all the emotions that threatened to pour out of you.

Regret and desperation was written all over his face.

“Please,” he rested his forehead on yours, eyes closed as he mumbled, “You’re not alone in this. I don’t want to ask for much because I know I don’t deserve it, but please at least understand you don’t have to solve everything on your own. You’re not…you’re not alone. I’m here now.”

“When you left me,” your voice cracked, “It’s because you thought I wouldn’t love you anymore if I found out your true nature,” Satoru opened his eyes, anxiety swimming in those eyes that had once been so sweet. Perhaps he still held that sweetness now, albeit it was less tender and more cautious as he waited for you to continue. “If I told you about every sin I’ve committed, the name of each person I killed and everything I’ve done, would you stay with me? Or would you leave me again, only this time it’s because you think I’m no longer someone you could love?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” was all you said before you felt a tear prick the back of your eyes. You didn’t want him to see, god, you wanted to disappear in that moment you couldn’t think of anything else. Crashing your lips to his, you brought him down by the back of his neck to hide the tears freely falling from your face.

He froze for a split second before he eagerly pushed back, clenching the pool edges with his hands so hard his knuckles turned white. You were panting, moaning in his mouth as he pressed you harder against the edge, skin to skin, breath to breath, soul to soul.

Threading your hands to his hair, you grinded down on his shorts where he was already beginning to grow hard. Satoru groaned inside your mouth from your teasing but made no move to stop to – after all, why would he want to stop? It had been years, seven fucking years, and even you wouldn’t want to stop. It was wrong, it was dirty, it was immoral – but you needed this. You needed this more than ever.

Satoru’s hands tickled your waist as he squeezed them harsher than he intended, his calloused fingers travelling until he was kneading your breasts. You pulled away from him, head thrown back to rest on the edge.

And it was romantic.

The moon had never been so big, sprinkles of star shining in the vast darkness, the scene just perfect for two lovers in a getaway from the harshness of life. You knew it wasn’t real and the spell would break sooner than later, but did it matter? He rolled your beaded nipples into his fingers before he ducked down, lips suctioned to suck heavy bruises on the sensitive patch of skin on your neck that had you twitching in his hold.

Along with your moans, you cried harder. From heartbreak, from regret, from guilt; there was no turning back from this.

“Satoru, please, please, please. Make me feel better, make me feel good, I just want to forget everything.”

He nodded eagerly against your neck, letting your eager hands help him push his shorts down before his cock sprang free. His length grazed your lower abdomen for a moment, though he didn’t waste any time in entering your hole. You gritted your teeth at the intrusion, nails dug so hard in his shoulders that he bled.

The both of you had your foreheads connected, noses brushing and breaths mixing as you moaned and he sighed, eyes shut tight from finally being engulfed in your warmth.

“Right there, ‘Toru, oh fuck.”

“F-fuck,” he hitched one of your legs to wrap around his waist, “You’re still so tight after all this time,” Satoru praised, molding his lips with yours once again. He picked up his pace and watched as you desperately clung from one surface to another – his shoulders, his hair, the edge of the pool, flailing your arms each time his deep thrusts knocked the wind out of you – breasts bouncing as he bounced you on his cock.

“You look so fucking beautiful – my sweet, sweet angel. I missed you, missed you so fucking much.”

You didn’t say anything. No words were needed to be exchanged; actions spoke louder than words. At least right now, you could promise you wouldn’t lie.

Pulling him down for another kiss, you bit down on his bottom lip to muffle your moans, too speechless at each movement of his dick grazing past your walls. Fuck, he still felt so good, still knew your body way too well and your pussy hugged him so tight like you didn’t ever want to let go.

But you knew you had to, even as he came inside you and brought you back to your room, uncaring of the dripping mess you’ve both made before he locked the door.

You forgot how many hours you spent underneath him writhing in his bed. He took you each way he wanted – knees folded beside your head, on your side where he whispered all the filthy things he’d been wanting to do to you while he took you from behind, or your head squished on the pillow as he repeatedly smacked your ass, pulling your ass cheeks apart to praise you on how you took him so well. Satoru didn’t stop; you knew what you were getting into the moment you pulled him into you, that his sex drive was insane and he’d take long to tire himself out.

By the time the first shy fingertips of the sunlight extending across the horizon arrived, you were emptily staring at the window, Satoru fast asleep beside you.

It was time.

Silently, you pulled his arm away from you and quickly got dressed. He seemed to still be deep in slumber, and you carried the only bag previously packed with everything you might need. You were on the process of wearing your stilettos when he stirred awake, sleepily eyeing you from the bed you both devoted yourselves to in pleasuring one another.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” you answered, tight-lipped. “From you.”

“Why?”

“Because…I lied,” you inhaled sharply, gloved hands frozen on the golden knobs.

Just open it, you screamed at yourself, walk away before it’s too late.

But you couldn’t move, pathetic that even after everything Naoya had worked so hard for, you still remained a slave to your past.

“No matter how much I hate everything you’ve done to me, I can’t bring myself to forget I once loved you. Maybe I still do – I don’t know. But what I do know is that I’m not as strong as I thought I was,” you cried, losing grip on the bag before it fell. You watched emptily as all the contents poured out – your money, your clothes, your phone, your ring – it all served as a reminder of who you were, of who you’d forgotten to be, of who you were supposed to be.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I don’t have enough strength to kill you.”

“Hey, angel,” he cooed, reaching you in three long strides before he caged you in his arms. Satoru was so warm, so strong, and the safety he provided you with only made you cry harder. You wanted to hate him, wanted to keep lying yourself since you’d been doing a great job at doing that for the past seven years, but it wasn’t that easy. Deep down…you still harbored the most miniscule affection, and that enough was capable of destroying you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you whispered brokenly as you banged a weak fist to his chest, “Everything is wrong.”

Finavice Pharmaceuticals didn’t disappoint.

You were beyond impressed the moment you stepped through the door, a horde of eager chemists guiding you through the upper floors. Finavice was one of the biggest – if not the biggest – companies that were known for harboring the rarest or hard to get elements that not even you and Naoya could get your hands on.

Not by yourselves, anyway, so you took it upon yourself to strike a sponsorship to their research program in developing a cure to cancer under the guise of being an advocate to the improvement of the medical field.

Truthfully, you just wanted to please Naoya, show him you were useful and that he didn’t need to kill you. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and there you were, your prettiest smile plastered on as you scanned the towering buildings with unmasked interest.

“Here is the laboratory for the Finavice Pharmaceuticals where we test…”

“Mrs. Zen’in?”

The entire team stopped as a tall man, cloaked in a beige suit instead of a lab coat appearhed out of nowhere. Judging by how everyone had ducked their heads down and turned silent, you could only guess he must be the boss. Flashing your most charming smile, you hitched your bag higher up your arm. “Yes?”

“May I have a word with you?”

You fought the urge to sigh. His question was spoken much more of a statement that you weren’t really given a room to decline, and the young chemists gazed at you curiously under their lashes.

Not wanting to create a commotion that would lead into unwanted attention, you nodded, following the man through a set of double doors, guarded by two heavily armed men from the outside.

The man, who was Kento Nanami, the founder of Finavice himself leaned back into his seat as he made himself comfortable. “So you signed a contract with us two weeks ago to partner on our latest medicine, am I right? I’ve read over your proposals and I must say, they are rather interesting and innovative. I didn’t expect that a businessman’s wife would be a chemist who is interested in expanding to the pharmaceuticals as well. The Zen’ins has never been much invested in that.”

Gladly accepting the tea he’d slid your way, you made sure to clink the teaspoon against the porcelain as you played along. “People change, Mr. Kento. My husband and I’s goals are rather different from their former, traditional ones. Surely, steel exchange couldn’t support us for the rest of our lives.”

“I can’t say no to that. Kudos to you and your husband for your rather…ambitious shared goals then.”

Your hand froze on the utensil, and you narrowed your eyes at him in warning. “Are you implying we should not have trusted you with this, Mr. Kento?”

“No, I am merely letting you know that your act won’t fool me,” he chuckled, leaning forwards to rest his chin on his clasped knuckles, his blue eyes growing dark and serious. “I know what you and your husband’s family does. The Organization knows a lot more about your actions than you think you know we do. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re only here because we’re the only company who has access to an element you need for your drug, isn’t that the case, Mrs. Zen’in?”

Well…this was certainly unexpected. You’ve been effortlessly deceiving countless businessmen, government leaders and officials even, that this took you by your surprise. Two could play at this game.

Even if he saw through you long ago, it wouldn’t take much to grab his letter opener that was right beside you and puncture it through a jugular vein. If his guards came, you could easily take them down too. Today was one of those few moments you were thankful for Naoya’s hellish training.

But you didn’t want him to feel satisfied, so you leaned back into your seat and crossed your leg over the other.

“If you knew this whole time, why didn’t you kill me already? A lot of people wouldn’t miss the chance to do so.”

Nanami chuckled. “It’s because like you, I’m not just a pioneer. I, too, have my goals and loyalty laid out for someone else. Most specifically, the Organization, an international collaborative effort of stopping and reducing mafia movement for the safety of our people. Obviously, I’ve been assigned in the Yakuza Division, and it’s no coincidence I read through your file. You are, after all, one of our precious targets.”

You stared at him boredly. Why couldn’t he just get straight to the point?

“Is this a threat? I’m not sure it’s working.”

“Oh, no, I’m not threatening you,” he snatched your tea and took a long sip from it, and it was the first time you learned of his habit of concealing his curious gaze through drinking; a perfect act to seem inconspicuous.

“I am offering you a path to redemption. You may fool everyone, but I know an unhappy woman when I see one, Mrs. Zen’in, and I can tell you find no pleasure in the life you live – running errands for your criminal husband, constantly fearing for your life, wishing you’d just been a regular person like everyone else…” At the lack of response, he took it a gesture for him to continue, and he set the cup down, pushing his glasses right back up his nose. “The Organization has labeled you a target, but I think you’re more of a victim caught in a series of unfortunate events. I merely wish to save you from it.”

You guffawed in laughter at his last statement.

“You men really are ridiculous!” you slapped your palm on his table, losing every bit of that elegant composure to be perfected by a Zen’in wife. “Always preaching about saving me and protecting me – what actually are you pathetic losers even capable of?”

Much to your dismay, Nanami didn’t seem the least bit affected by your mockery.

“Please, don’t group me in with your husband and your former lover. Unlike them, I harbor no interest in you as a woman, I only want to fulfill my duty as an Agent and save you not because you’re a damsel in distress, but rather because…I could kill two birds with one stone,” his eyes shone in mischief, and you swallowed in discomfort as he gazed you up and down.

You’ve had enough experience with being seen as a meal, but this was different. Nanami was viewing you like you were a secret weapon he intended on using as much as he could to achieve his goals.

“You are a very convenient woman, Mrs. Zen’in. Similar to how your husband adores your abilities, I would like to take advantage of your connections. The only difference between me and them is that I can actually give you something money can’t even buy.”

“Such as?”

“A second chance at a normal life.”

“What makes you think I’ll accept your offer? I’m the wife of a mafia leader – my loyalty resides in him.”

“Only because you fear for your life,” he flashed you a red coin, crescents of a Latin quote scripted inside. Mori quam foedari – death before dishonor.

“Join the Organization, Y/N. With your connections, we could easily take down these families and protect the country. Hand over Satoru Gojo and Naoya Zen’in to us, and I promise the Organization will do everything in its power to give you the life you always wanted. A safe, normal one. No more worrying about being killed as you ride your car, no more beating yourself up as you make drugs to promise your usefulness to your husband and no more pretending you are someone who you’re not,” he flipped the coin between his fingers, and tantalized, you couldn’t keep your eyes off it. “Don’t you want that? You’d be able to live freely if you cooperate with us.”

You could hear the gears in your head turning. Part of you would’ve assumed this was a trap had you not known better, but Naoya taught you that if something was a trap, it would sound too easy, too good.

None of this was easy. It would require facing a demon from your past and handling things differently than what Naoya had planned, but that wasn’t the worst.

It was the fact that if you accepted, you’d have to come home tonight and lie in the face of your husband who could easily read through you. He smelled lies and treachery before you could realize you were even thinking of doing something, and knowing Naoya, he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes the instant he felt something was off.

But his offer… it was a risk you had to take. You wouldn’t ever get an opportunity like this again.

“Do you promise…that I’ll really go back to normal after this? That I won’t be involved in this mess anymore?”

“I can only promise that if you also promise to do your part. You see, I strongly believe you are the one that can put an end to this all. All you have to do is join us, and soon it’ll feel like this nightmare never happened at all. You’ll be free from Naoya Zen’in and Gojo Satoru before you realize it.”

You stared at his coin harder. Death before dishonor. This Organization he was a part of obviously didn’t fuck around, and it seemed scarier because they had their eyes on you for a while now. What were the odds they offered a deal instead of outright killing you, even going as far as to provide you a second chance at life, one that you genuinely wanted to enjoy? It would be a shame to say no, and even if the chances of this turning out well were low, you would damn well take it. A small chance was better than nothing.

“What do I have to do?”

Nanami grinned and pocketed his coin. “A very wise decision, Mrs. Zen’in,” he congratulated, “Please, meet me at my office tomorrow, eight on the dot. Oh, and remember, the Organization will now be watching you wherever you go. You’re one of us now.”

The next day, Nanami had cut your palm.

He spilled your blood into an empty metal casing with engraved letters, mori quam foedari, the phrase both comforting and ominous. Soon, you came home with your blood solidified into a coin to prove your membership and loyalty, that they quite owned you in more ways than one. Your blood meant your loyalty, and the coin felt heavy in your pocket with the implication it was also your blood they wouldn’t hesitate to spill should you betray them.

Mori quam foedari.

Death before dishonor.

Your life over Naoya’s, your future over Gojo’s.

The next few days had been tense. After telling Satoru everything down from the smallest detail, things had shifted between you. Quite frankly, you expected that maybe he’d kill you right then and there after explicitly stating that just because you couldn’t kill him, didn’t mean you wouldn’t turn him in.

“Angel,” he begged, “Will you never really give me the chance to do everything right this time around?”

However, you were too firm on your plans. You originally wanted to leave and go to the island yourself; it was easier to leave Satoru open and vulnerable for the Organization to attack him in your absence. He loved you, that was much clear, and if he looked for you, he’d make himself vulnerable to the Organization, but recent plans had to be altered now that he wasn’t willing to let go of you. Though no matter what he said, you valued your life and future more than you could ever love him.

It was an act of kindness to yourself.

“I don’t want this life anymore, Satoru. Either way, I don’t have a choice, not when I could die literally anytime before I could even say goodbye.”

It had been hours since ‘that’ talk and now you were on a plane back to Tokyo. You had to pull out some archives from Naoya’s files to know more about the island before you could visit it, and it was important for Satoru to know details such as security measures over there.

You’d long fallen asleep from exhaustion, bundled up in a fleece blanket while Geto glared at you.

“Are you sure about this, Sir? I think we should just keep her with us even if she doesn’t want to. The Gojo clan is powerful enough that no one would dare cross us. Not even this Organization she speaks of has ever done anything to us. Without her, they stand no chance against us,” he sat in front his boss and kept sending wary glances your way. “Letting her go like you did before wasn’t a good idea. She knows too much about everyone to live normally now. Do you really believe the Organization will protect her?”

“Knowing the strings the government could pull – and add on to the fact Nanami Kento, one of the richest men in this country works for them that it’s safe to assume each figure in them is a powerhouse – I don’t doubt their promise one bit.”

“But you’ll go to jail if you let her surrender you. Or worse, they’ll destroy the clan from the bottom up.”

“I know that, Geto.”

Geto groaned, brushing his hands through his hair from how indifferent his boss was being, drinking champagne as if he wasn’t willingly walking into his own death. “Then why aren’t you thinking more clearly about this? I understand you love her and you want to make it up to her, but we can’t let her do whatever she pleases! In order to keep herself safe, she’s going to sacrifice you! She’s dangerous, Sir, she’s been lying to her husband the whole time and who’s to say she isn’t capable of doing something worse to a stranger like you?”

“I told you already, Geto,” Satoru swirled the pink liquid in his flute, his face empty and unreadable. “I know.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I don’t agree with your decision. The clan would fall without you and you don’t have siblings or an heir. No one is powerful to hold the clan together aside from you so if you leave – there’s no more hope for us,” he sighed when Satoru didn’t budge. “I at least want you to reconsider your actions. She’s just a woman, Sir. It’s either we kill her or we imprison her. You let her go before because you believed she would be your downfall, and quite frankly, it’s happening all over again.”

Satoru gazed out the window, bringing the flute to his lips with a dark glint in his eye that Geto recognized meant trouble, or worse, an actual solution to this hellish situation.

“Which is why we’re going to pay an old friend a visit, Geto. There’s only one person who could turn the tables around.”

ADDITIONAL NOTE: TOJI IS COMING SOON!!! what are your theories on what might be on that island and *drum roll* WHO IS GOJO’S OLD FRIEND?! 

taglist open:

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[fandomlit]

secretive (shane madej x reader)

requested by anon “Could you do a Shane Madej x reader where he thinks the reader is cheating on him with Ryan. Like they whisper things to eachother and stop when Shane enters the room, they text all the time and hang out without Shane a lot. He ends up snapping at the reader about it but it turns out they were actually planning a suprise for him.”

summary shane madej has never been an insecure guy. but when it comes to you, that side can come out to play.

gif cred belongs to @ryanbergara​

shane was rarely insecure. he had learned to become proud of who he is, lanky limbs and all. but of course, there was the occasional slip up--especially when it came to you.

when shane first met you, he was smitten. your dorky personality, stunning beauty, and unrelenting kindness drew him into you instantly, and he chased that feeling to the ends of the earth. and now, almost a year and a half into your relationship, he could honestly say that he has never been happier.

but of course, those pesky insecurities come out to play sometimes.

shane had volunteered to do coffee run that morning before filming unsolved. when he came back to the office where he had left you both, he saw you two sitting unbearably close at the desk, talking and smiling and ignoring everyone else in the room setting up for the shoot.

trying his best to brush it off, he entered the office and gave you both a smile. “caffeine time?”

you leaned away from ryan, clapping excitedly. “caffeine time!”

he gave a wide grin at your cheeriness and grabby hands, handing you the order he had memorized on your first date. 

you stood up from the desk and giggled, “you can have your seat back. i gotta get back to work.”

“alright, have fun,” shane smiled. you gave him a quick kiss before skipping off to your workplace. after shane settled in his seat with his coffee, he said to ryan as casually as he could, “what were the whispers about?”

ryan gave him an entirely unconvincing confused look. “what whispers?”

“between you and y/n,” shane explained, motioning to the door you had just exited through.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” ryan said, shaking his head at shane. before shane could press any further, you came back into the office.

“sorry,” you giggled. “forgot my phone.” you snatched off of the small table and then pointed to ryan with a serious expression. “text me, bergara.” and then you left, just as quickly as you had come.

ryan looked up from his prepared manila folder to the camera crew, not daring to glance at the unintentionally glaring shane, and spoke, “are we ready to roll?”

..

“who are you texting?” shane teased when he entered the living room to see you curled up, smiling at your phone.

“just ryan,” you shrugged. that didn’t sit right with shane.

“you two seem awfully close lately,” shane tried to comment nonchalantly. but if he implicated that anything was wrong in his tone, you didn’t notice. you just giggled as your phone buzzed with another text. shane took a sip of his tea with a frown.

after a while of smiling at your phone, you moved over to cuddle with shane as he watched a show on netflix.

you placed a kiss on his cheek as you draped yourself over him. “i love you.”

that did lighten his heart a bit. “i love you, too.”

..

ryan and shane got lunch together many days of the week. then he would come back to the office, pay you a visit in yours, and get back to work. but today, ryan had a different idea in mind.

“why don’t we eat with y/n today?” the shorter man proposed. that unsettled shane a bit. supernatural beings were nothing to him, but a guy taking invested interest in his girl friend as of late? that rattled him.

shane excused, “she’s usually busy during our lunch.. but we can check.” he shrugged. “no harm in that.” and though his thoughts betrayed his words, he led the way to your office.

you were on the phone when shane peeked in. you waved him in as you spoke, “it’s alright, lea.” you tapped your pencil against your desk as the boys filtered in. “yeah, just send it and we can edit and complete. it’s no problem. just relax and enjoy a day off, girl. of course. see you.” you hung up and gave the boys a smile.

“what was that about?” shane asked, coming closer to your desk to give you a quick kiss.

“was that the girl who hasn’t shown up for the past few days?” ryan asked, taking the seat across from your desk.

“yes,” you groaned. “im trying to be patient with her, she’s using some sick days so i can’t really get on her, but did she have to take off in the middle of this project?” you let out a huff.

shane was slightly bothered that ryan knew more about this than he did. but instead, he asked, “would it comfort you at all if we had lunch with you today? or is this girl taking up your schedule?”

you grasped his hand in yours. “please have lunch with me.” you reached out your hand to ryan, who laughed as he took it. you squeezed both of their hands, though shane’s lips were now tightly pursed. “this morning has been insane.”

“we got you,” ryan nodded with a grin that you returned sweetly. when you looked up at shane, he quickly changed his expression into a grin. he felt his jealousy rising second by second during the entire lunch.

..

shane had just walked into the breakroom to see you and ryan laughing as you poured yourself a cup of tea. “that’s actually not a bad idea, bergara. where’d you come up with that one?”

“i’ve got so much in this noggin, you don’t even know, l/n,” ryan responded easily, making you laugh again. shane still hadn’t been noticed, but he felt as if his heart was beating so loud that he surely would be.

“but yeah, shane stays late every thursday,” you continued, “so if you came over right after work, we should be able to get it all done and shane wouldn’t even know!”

“im a genius,” ryan praised.

“that you are,” you agreed, holding your cup out. he clinked his water bottle against it and you both turned to the door. shane was long gone.

..

you had stayed a little bit late that day, and so shane was stuck pacing your shared apartment as he awaited your arrival home, thinking of what to say.

his blood boiled as he thought of the implications of the past couple of weeks. you and ryan were definitely planning something. and with how close you two were lately, it was probably something that shane, your boyfriend, would not care for at all. and if his thoughts were right, then had this happened before? is he only noticing this now? he couldn’t even begin with what he needed to say to you.

you were the most important thing to him. from the moment he met you, he knew he had to be with you. and now that you could be cheating on him with his best friend? his heart was pumping and aching in his chest, and he didn’t know whether to be angry or sad.

when you opened the door, his head immediately shot up. “hey,” you smiled. after you closed the door behind you and took in his frantic state, you asked, “something wrong?”

“we gotta talk,” was all he could manage as he shook his head.

you furrowed your brow as you slipped off your jacket and dropped your bag. “okay..?” you stepped toward him. “what about?”

but your innocence just seemed to frustrate him. “i know about you and ryan.” you stopped in your tracks, but he didn’t dare glance at your reaction to his words. he was worried about what he’d find there. “i heard you guys talking in the breakroom earlier about meeting up when im not home, and how you two always text lately, and you’re always.. touching and..” he took a breath. “i know, y/n.” he finally looked up at you to see your face frozen in what seemed to be shock and concern. you stepped closer to him.

“shane, what?” he stood his ground, arms crossed as you moved in front of him. “shane, no.. no, i love you so much, i would never cheat on you.” you placed your hands on his arms and looked him dead in his eyes. but his expression remained stone.

“why should i believe that?” he spoke lowly.

he wished he hadn’t seen your heart break in your eyes. “shane, ryan and i are your best friends, we wouldn’t dare do that to you. we..” you let out a sigh through your nose and removed your hands from his arms to fish your phone out of your pocket. you unlocked it and handed it to him, revealing the texts between you and ryan.

scrolling up, he found:

boogara, 12:38pm okay, this might be a stupid question..

y/n, 12:42pm i love it already, do tell

boogara, 12:44pm alright do you think it would be at all possible to get balloons custom made as characters from the hotdaga?

y/n, 12:45pm OHMYGOD I LOVE IT WE ABSOLUTELY CAN IM LOOKING INTO IT RN

boogara, 12:46pm shane better appreciate this idea as much as you do when his birthday comes around

y/n, 12:48pm ryan, that man will celebrate harder than he’s ever celebrated before

boogara, 12:49pm he better

shane didn’t know what to make of that as he handed his phone back to you.

“we were planning a surprise party for your birthday,” you sighed, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “that’s why we’re so.. secretive.” you twiddled with your hands nervously. “but i guess not anymore.” shane didn’t know what to say. you looked up to him sadly. “you thought i was cheating on you..?”

shane’s heart burned with guilt. softly, he spoke, “i did, yeah.” your frown deepened. “but not because i don’t trust you,” he explained, taking your hand in his. you looked to your hands instead of his desperate eyes for a moment. “but because i just..” you looked up at him, and the words spilled out, “i don’t know, im just always in awe that i get to be with you and... i guess i got scared that maybe you thought i wasn’t good enough for you, because god knows im not.”

“shane,” you said softly, placing a hand on his cheek. “you’re perfect for me. ryan is definitely one of my best friends, but he doesn’t hold a candle to the love i have for you.” he offered you a short smile. “i only have eyes for you, dork.”

“im sorry,” he whispered. you pulled him in for a tight hug.

“i am, too,” you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. “will you still act surprised for your birthday..? ryan’s pretty proud of himself.”

“i’d do anything for that little guy,” he sighed, pulling away from you to gaze at your sweet smile. “let’s go watch drunk history.”

forever tags <3 @bombardia @simonsbluee @ari-shipping-stuff @cheshirecat107 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don���t Live Forever

~chapter seven rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Peter walked to campus that day with an extra bounce in his step. He couldn’t keep himself from leaping over the school gate, not caring who could’ve seen. He was in love. He walked past Flash with confidence, easily brushing off his backhanded comments. He walked up to Ned and felt oddly compelled to click his heels. Ned noticed the ecstatic expression on his best friends face and smirked.

“What’s got you so happy? Did a certain wall crawling superhero finally beat Venom in a fight?” He asked. Peter shook his head.

“Not yet. Something even better happened.” Peter said proudly.

“And what might that be?” Ned wondered. Peter could barely keep himself from screaming.

“Y/n kissed me.” He exclaimed. He got a few strange looks from passing students on their way to class, but Peter didn’t care. Nothing could ruin his mood.

“What? When? ” Ned gasped.

“This morning. She slept over last night after she had a nightmare. And guess what else?” Peter asked. Ned bounced up and down.

“What? Tell me!” Ned demanded. Peter looked around for who could be listening and smirked.

“She slept in my bed.” He smirked.

“Oh.” Ned said looked disappointed in the anticlimactic finish.

“With me in it.” Peter added and Ned looked amazed. His jaw hung open and he began to bounce up and down again.

“Dude that’s like the greatest thing ever.” Ned cheered. “She’s so hot! We have to tell everyone.”

“We’re not telling anyone just yet.” He shook his head. “She’s only been my girlfriend for a few hours. She’s really special to me, Ned. I don’t want to treat her like shes some prize I won by telling everyone. Girls are worth more than that.”

“Amen to that. What are you losers talking about anyway?” MJ said as she approached them. She was eating trail mix and looked extremely bored already.

“Peter has a girlfriend.” Ned blurted. Peter shot him an angry look while MJ looked impressed.

“Oh really? Who is she, your right hand?” MJ smirked. Ned looked confused while Peters face went red.

“It’s not my right hand. She lives in my building and she’s an angel. That’s all you need to know.” Peter grumbled, still annoyed that Ned spilled his secret. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of you, the exact opposite actually. He would shout it from the rooftops that you were together if he could. He just didn’t want everyone to know. You had only kissed that morning and Peter still wanted to keep the magical details to himself.

“Does this angel have a name?” MJ questioned, actually interested in something for once.

“No.” Peter said at the same time Ned said “Y/n L/n.”

“Y/n L/n from The L/n Report?” MJ was suddenly invested. It was the first time Peter or Ned heard emotion in her voice.

“You know her?” Peter asked.

“Duh.” MJ scoffed. “She’s the only investigative reporter I’ve seen who actually cares about the people she reports on. I read her articles all the time. We have a lot of the same opinions. I used to think she was the coolest girl ever.”

“Used to think?” Ned asked.

“Well clearly something’s wrong with her if she’s dating Peter.” MJ said flatly. Ned laughed and Peter looked at her angrily.

“There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s amazing.” Peter defended.

“I know she is.” MJ shrugged. “I’ve idealized that girl for year. Did you guy see what she did to Carlton Drake?” Peter nodded and smiled proudly at the thought of his girl kicking names and taking ass.

“She’s like my hero. She’s done so much for the homeless back in San Francisco. I was so excited when she said she was moving to New York to work for The Daily Bugle.” MJ gushed. Peter and Ned looked at each other, visibly confused.

“Have you always done that?” Ned asked her.

“Done what?” MJ asked.

“Felt things?” Ned said and MJ rolled her eyes.

“I feel very passionate about a lot of things. Those things just don’t happen to include you two or anyone else in this school. However, I am very passionate about your girlfriend.” MJ stated. She suddenly looked a little uncomfortable and unsure of herself, two things MJ never did. She awkwardly turned to Peter.

“Do you think I could meet her? I’d really love to talk to her about her article on fracking.” MJ asked slowly. She wasn’t used to asking people for things. Peters eyes softened at this new side of MJ.

“She’s picking me up after class today on her motorcycle. You can meet her then.” Peter offered. Then MJ did something very out of character.

She smiled.

“K thanks.” She blurted and then swiftly left. Ned and Peter laughed as she walked away.

“That was new.” Ned commented.

“Yes It was.” Peter agreed.

“She’s so odd.” Ned added.

“Yes, she is.”

“Did you do the hanky panky with Y/n?” Ned asked. Peter snapped his head towards Ned.

“What?” Peter flushed red. “No. And never say ‘hanky panky’ again.”

“It was worth asking. See you in orgo.” Ned said before walking towards his class. Peter shook his head in amusement before heading to his first class of the day.

At 3:30, you pulled up to Peters college on your motorcycle. You took off your helmet, shook your hair out, and scanned the crowd for Peter. You soon saw him, Ned following shortly behind him, and a girl you had never seen before. She wasn’t wearing makeup, which you gave her props for, and had her curly hair tied back in a pony tail. She was undeniably pretty and had a very cool vibe to her.

“Hi beautiful.” Peter said when he reached you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you tightly. “It’s torture not being with you all day.”

“I know. But the school year is almost over right? Then we can spend every second together.” You promised. Peter smiled happily. He leaned in slightly, as if asking for your permission, and you did the same. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He smiled into the kiss and held you closer. This time, there were no interruptions.

“Y/n, I’d like you to meet MJ. MJ, this is Y/n.” Peter said, gesturing to the girl. MJ smiled shyly at you and held out her hand.

“It’s really cool to meet you, Y/n. Your article on greenhouse gases is hanging on my wall. I’m uh, I’m a big fan.” She said timidly.

“You’re a fan? That’s amazing.” You smiled brightly at her. “I’ve never met a fan before. It’s really cool to meet you too, MJ. And if you’re interested in the environment, I have a bunch of scientists numbers I can give you. I had to interview a bunch back in San Francisco to write that article. They gave me some great tips on how to reduce my carbon footprint.” MJ’s eyes widened just a little. She looked baffled and gave you a thankful smile. You noticed one of her front teeth was slightly askew and decided you liked her already.

“Really? That’d be so cool. Thanks.” She said. You squeezed her arm and nodded.

“I think you and I are going to get along just fine. Can I get your number? I’d love to hear more about what you’re interested in.” You handed MJ your phone and she took it. She typed her number it and handed it back.

“This has been really amazing. Thanks for being so cool. I have to run though. I’m running a protest outside of Oscorp.” She explained. “One of their employees got seriously electrocuted and they’re to cover it up.”

“Really?” You gasped. “Is it okay if I tag along? I’m kinda busy with my Cletus Kasady story but I would love to cover your protest too.”

“You’d do that for me?” She asked as if she wasn’t used to people doing things for her.

“Gladly. Can I join? I can give you a ride there.” You offered. She smiled at you and toyed with the strings on her backpack.

“That’d be great. See you losers later.” MJ gave Peter and Ned a peace sign and climbed onto your bike. You gave Peter a quick peck on the lips and got on the bike as well. Peter watched as MJ wrapped her arms around your waist and smirked at him. You two sped off towards Oscorp, leaving Peter and Ned in your wake.

“Dude.” Ned laughed. “MJ just stole your girlfriend.”

“Shut up. No she didn’t.” Peter said. Did she though? You seemed to hit it off with her pretty quickly. Peter didn’t know MJ too well but he knew she was guarded and didn’t let people in easily. In fact, she didn’t let anyone in. And yet, you and her had become best friends in a matter of minutes.

Heading back from Oscorp a few hours later, you saw a familiar hat bobbing up and down in the street. You were about to call out Neds name when two guys came from around the corner. They looked mean and you could hear Ned’s heartbeat rising. You quickly ran over to him.

“Hey.” You panted. Ned looked relived to see you.

“Oh hey Y/n. How’d your date with MJ go?” He teased. You shoved him slightly.

“It wasn’t a date. She’s really cool though. I think we’re going to be good friends.” You said as you passed the two guys. You soon heard a whistle.

“Damn baby. Where you going with him? Don’t you wanna stay here and have some fun?” one of the guys called. You looked at Ned and picked up your pace.

“I know you heard me beautiful. Stop running before I give you a reason to run.” The man said again, louder this time.

“Keep walking.” You whispered to Ned.

“I said stop running.” The man shouted, this time, his threat was accompanied by the sound of a gun cocking. You and Ned froze in your steps. The two men slowly approached you, all while pointing the gun level with your head.

“That’s better.” One man said when he reached you. “Now, how about this. You come with me, or I shoot your friend. Does that sound fair?”

“I better call Peter. He’ll know what to do.” Ned panicked.

“No need.” You growled as your transformed into Venom. You marched up to the guy and grabbed him by the shoulders in a death grip. You spit at a nearby newspaper in the ground. The newspaper quickly disintegrated and left nothing but smoke behind. You smiled devilishly at the man, grateful for a chance to show off your acidic saliva.

“What was that?” The man cowered in your grasp. Meanwhile, his friend ran away terrified.

“Acid spit. Still want me to come with you?” Venom purred. The man whimpered and shook his head furiously.

“Didn’t think so. Now, if you don’t tell us the names of ten historical feminists who would be very disappointed in your sorry ass by the time I count to ten, we’re going to eat you. Does that sound fair?” Venom growled as the man shut his eyes in fear.

“One.” You began to count.

“Uh…” He whimpered.

“Two.”

“Um.” He raked his minuscule brain for answered but came up empty handed.

“Ten.” You said and bit his head off. You quickly ate the rest of his body before turning back into yourself. You wiped your hands and patted your stomach before turning around and making eye contact with Ned, completely forgetting he was there.”

“You’re Venom?!” He gasped as he pointed at you in horror. You ran up to him and covered his mouth.

“What? No.” You lied. “How do you know about Venom anyway?”

“It’s you. I can’t believe it’s you.” Ned exclaimed when you took your hand off his mouth. You were getting more and more confused.

“You’re Venom. You, Y/n, are Venom.” He repeated as if it all made sense now.

“Play dumb.” Venom whispered.

“What? I’m not Venom. What makes you say that?” You stammered.

“Not that dumb!” She yelled. Ned looked at you and laughed, still in shock.

“You and Peter are perfect for each other, you know that? You’re both dumb as shit.” He laughed. You had to laugh a little as well.

“You’re Venom and Peter is…do you know about Peter?” Ned suddenly asked.

“What about Peter?” You didn’t understand what he meant. Neds eyes went wide, and then filled with sadness.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He shook his head. “Are you gonna tell him about this? Because I’m going to be very honest with you, I’m terrible at keeping secrets. I don’t know if I can keep this from him.”

“I’m gonna tell him eventually. So please, don’t say anything.” You pleaded. “He has to hear it from me. I’m sorry that I’m making you lie to your best friend but this is a very unique situation.”

“It’s a lot more unique than you think.” He muttered. “I won’t tell him.”

“Thank you.” You hugged him tightly, thankful that he was safe and keeping your secret. You walked Ned home and began to make your way back to the apartment building. You wanted nothing more than to cuddle with Peter and forget the day. After all, you missed him all day at school. It was bearable when you guys were just friends, but now that he was your boyfriend you never wanted to be apart.

When you were just a few blocks from your apartment, you felt a strong arm wrap around your neck and hold you in place. Suddenly, there was a knife to your throat.

“I saw what you did to my buddy, you little freak. Now, how about you get down on those pretty little knees before I kill you?” The man threatened. You turned your neck as much as you could and recognized your attacker as the mans friend who ran away from earlier. You sighed deeply. You were full and trying to keep your body count to a minimum, but he was just asking for it. You shut your eyes and were about to turn into Venom when you heard a voice from behind you.

“Now that’s no way to treat a lady.” The voice rang. You recognized it as Peters voice. The guy was quickly pulled away from you as if by some kind of rope. You heard some sort of webbing going on behind you and small cries of struggling from the man.

“Are you alright Miss?” Peter asked.

“I’m fine, Peter.” You said, finally turning around. Instead of seeing your boyfriend, you saw the friendly neighborhood pain in the ass. He had webbed your attacker to the wall and was now looking right at you. You had seen him so many times before, and he’d seen you, but never like this. You felt almost naked, standing before Spider-Man as Y/n instead of Venom.

“Oh.” You said, startled. “I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“Yea. This is a pretty popular outfit.” Spider-Man joked, gesturing to his skin tight suit. You bit your tongue. He was funny, but you couldn’t let him know that. You were enemies after all. He just didn’t realize it was you.

“Thanks for saving me.” You blurted. “But I had the situation handled.”

“You’re right. You especially looked like you had it handled when he was about to stab and murder you.” Spider-Man said sarcastically. You found him oddly charming, despite your history.

“What are you gonna do with him?” You asked, pointing to the man webbed to the wall.

“I heard what he said to you. I’m going to register him as a sex offender and ruin his life. Unless, you had other plans. You know, since you had the situation handled.” Spiderman remarked. You playfully rolled your eyes. You did have other plans. Plans that involved eating him and digesting him while you cuddled with Peter. But Spider-Mans plan was okay too.

“Alright. I’ll see you around Spider-Man.” You said, giving the superhero one last look. There was something familiar about him. Spider-Man nodded.

“See you around. And please, be careful. Don’t walk alone. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He said and turned back to the man.

You went home, showered, and got into some comfy clothes. You missed your boyfriend dearly and went to his apartment to see him.

After being let in by May, you went into Peters room and flopped on his bed. He was sat at his desk doing homework.

“Did you mean what you said about me sleeping over whenever I wanted?” You asked, voice muffled by his pillow.

“Of course I did.” He swiveled around to look at you and noticed your body language. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I’ve had a long day and I want to cuddle my boyfriend.” You pouted. Peter smiled at you calling him your boyfriend. He closed his textbook and climbed into bed with you. You rested your head on his chest, right over his heart. The sound of his heartbeat calmed you down and you felt sleepy.

“Did you make any progress on your story?” He asked. You shook your head as he began to run his fingers through your hair. You hummed in content and pressed a small kiss to his neck. He blushed at the affection and held you closer.

“No.” You groaned. “I’ve had the worst writers block all day. I was actually thinking of writing an article on Spider-Man until my writers block went away.”

After your encounter with the masked hero, you wanted to know more about him. You were originally against your boss’s idea to write about him, but now you liked it. Sure, there were plenty of articles on Spider-Man out there, but you knew him intimately.

“Spider-Man?” You felt Peters heart stop momentarily. “Why?”

“I think I have a pretty good shot at figuring out who he is.” You shrugged. “Like, think about it, he only operates from the hours of 4 to midnight ish right? Except, on weekends, when he’s seen all throughout the day. What’s he doing all day on weekdays? He can’t be at work because jobs don’t end that early. I think he’s in school. Either high school or college. Probably college though, right? I can’t imagine a high schooler doing what he does. Unless he’s been doing this since high school. That’s also possible.”

“Oh wow.” Peter said, dumbfounded. He was usually blown away by your intelligence, but now it was working against him. There were a million college students in New York, though. Surely you wouldn’t figure it out.

“And think about this, he’s only ever in New York, so he must live here right?” You continued. “But what about that one time he saved those kids in the Washington Monument? What was New York’s superhero doing in Washington? I looked into it and the kids he saved were on a field trip. What if Spider-Man was on the field trip too? If I look up all the schools that were there, I could create a list of suspects and go from there. Then, I could-“ you were cut off with a kiss.

“Let’s not talk about Spider-Man.” Peter said quickly, followed by a smile. “I want to hear about you day. How was Oscorp?”

“We had a really good time.” You smiled. “I interviewed her after I helped her with the protest and then we grabbed lunch. Oh, and I saw Ned on my way home.”

“You saw Ned?” Peter asked. Ned hadn’t mentioned seeing you.

“Yea.” You blew out a breath. “These two guys attacked us. One ran away and I took care of the other. But then the one that ran away came back and you’ll never guess who saved me.”

“Who?” Peter smiled. He knew who.

“Spider-Man. I don’t know. I was wrong about him. I used to think he was just some guy in spandex with a God complex but now I think he just genuinely wants to help people. And…” you trailed off.

“And?” Peter raised an eyebrow.

“He’s got a nice ass.” You admitted. Peter laughed loudly. You smiled into his chest. You loved that damn laugh.

“I’m serious.” You insisted. “I saw it as he walked away and it knocked me out. Spider-Man is dummy thick.”

“Please never say the words “Spider-Man is dummy thick” in my house again.” Peter pleaded. He secretly loved it though.

“I was actually thinking of making that the title of my article.” You joked. Peter laughed again. He chucked a pillow at you and you giggled.

“Let’s go to bed.” You yawned. “In a romantic, but still non sexual way this time.”

“Good night, my Nancy Drew.” Peter said with a kiss to your forehead.

“Goodnight, my whoever Nancy Drew was boning.” You yawed again.

“Ned Nickerson.” Peter laughed.

“Then goodnight Ned Nickelodeon.” You said, half asleep.

“Close enough.” Peter smiled.

[justcourttee]

Adrien asks mari out and she says i would of been so happy in the past but now its too little to late. She's engaged to Damian but they haven't announced it yet

Bittersweet

It had been a while since Adrien had found himself in Gotham City. Too many years to count on his hand. Yet when he received an invite from Marinette he didn’t hesitate to hop on the next flight to attend her gala.

He had no idea that she had created a partnership with Wayne Enterprises, in fact, he had no idea they were interested in the fashion world at all. Then again, why should he be surprised? When Marinette put her mind to something, nothing would get in her way.

Ever since he had taken over his father’s company, Adrien hadn’t had much time to keep up with his old school friends but it hadn’t stopped them from trying to keep him in the loop. From what he could gather, Alya and Nino would also be attending, Rose and Juleka too. It would be nice to see them all again, especially Marinette.

Stepping out from the warmth of his hotel room and into the cool streets, Adrien couldn’t help but let his mind drift to thoughts of her.

It took Marinette moving to the States for him to realize how much he was in love with her. It was something he never wanted to admit seeing how much he adored Ladybug, but as she disappeared from his grasps, he was left to face his true feelings.

Glancing at his phone, Adrien confirmed that he was mere minutes away from the address she had listed. The gala was still a few days away, but Marinette asked if he had wanted to meet up for a late-night coffee, a Gotham specialty. Even her scarf that she had gifted him ages ago couldn’t hide the red on his cheeks as he imagined the perfect date with the girl of his dreams.

He paused, reaching the door of Deja Brew, his heart beating a million miles a minute. Somewhere in this late-night shop was his best friend. How would she react to seeing him again? Would she be as excited as he was? Would she feel the same way as she did?

Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the door, his eyes glancing through the scattered exhausted customers until they landed on her. She still hadn’t noticed his presence, her nose buried into her sketchbook, her coffee still steaming beside her seemingly untouched.

She was early.

The thought almost drew a laugh as he approached the counter to place his order. Of course she would have finally picked up some time management skills by now. Marinette was 27 and slowly making a name for herself as the future of the fashion industry. That wasn’t something accomplished by constant tardiness.

He picked up his cup, placing a ten into the tip jar, the hostess’ raised eyebrows making him smile. He could already hear his father scolding him. After all, that wasn’t the way to becoming a billionaire. You only make money by holding onto it.

Honestly, Adrien didn’t understand why he had to be a billionaire. His father said it would raise the bar for their line, but it just wasn’t in Adrien’s heart to hoard all of the money unnecessarily. Maybe the Waynes offered Marinette the same advice. Maybe they had something they could relate to together.

“Excuse me ma’am, is this seat taken?”

His heart had finally slowed down but as her eyes slowly peeked up at him under her lashes, it immediately began somersaulting once more.

“Oh Gods, Adrien!” She was out of her seat before he even had the chance to set down his coffee, her arms flung around his neck. He hoped and prayed she couldn’t feel his chest threatening to explode. “You should have said something! I’ve gotten into the bad habit of zoning out in public places.”

Her smile was blinding as she unwound herself, slipping back into her seat, motioning for him to sit as well.

“How was the flight? Did you fly private or first class?”

Adrien gasped, his hand covering his chest as if she had shot him.

“I only flew business thank you very much.” Marinette’s look of mock disbelief earned a small chuckle.

“That must have been so hard for you. I really am sorry you went through so much trouble for my sake.”

“You know, I would go through so much more for you Marinette.”

Her smile faltered for a moment, so quick that if he hadn’t been staring so hard at her, he might have missed it. Did his statement make her uncomfortable? He had only meant it jokingly with the truth laced in, but he was sure his eyes gave him away. They always softened when it came to her.

Marinette cleared her voice, her true smile shining once more as if the falter never happened in the first place.

“You’ve missed so much, I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about from the beginning?” She nodded as she dove into her move to the States and how she began as an intern for the CEO, Tim Drake, years ago and slowly worked her way up to personal assistant.

She recounted how Tim found her sketchbook at work one day and showed it to his father. Together they agreed that she was their way into the fashion industry, an investment that could open the door to many more jobs for the Gotham citizens.

It took two years, but she finally had a full line that was presented at Bruce’s first fashion show.

“So many big names were there Adrien! I really thought I was gonna faint!”

His smile became softer and softer as she recounted meeting the rest of the Waynes and finally after six long years, she had made enough of a name for herself to be holding her own official Gala, the Wayne’s simply a sponsor.

“That’s amazing Marinette, you’re amazing.”

She beamed proudly, her smile pulling at his heart.

“I couldn’t have done it without them. They are genuine and kind people and they are pretty much family.” Something glistened in her eyes as she spoke of them. It could have been obvious to anyone, Marinette cared so deeply for these people.

It was Adrien’s turn to falter as an ugly thought passed.

She’s so comfortable here, she would never want to come back to Paris with me.

He was shocked with himself. This was no time for jealousy. His best friend, the love of his life, was excitedly telling him about a future she had built for herself and the only thing he could think was that it was an obstacle keeping her from him?

Adrien desperately wanted to smack his own forehead, but for Marinette’s sake he straightened out his smile instead.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve only been talking about myself! What’s new with you? How’s your dad’s business? Do you have anyone you’re seeing?”

His eyebrow raised at the last question. She asked the question he so desperately wanted to ask her. And she did it so casually, equating it to his work and social life. Did that mean she was also fishing for his response?

“Nothing much. Dad wants to move from a multi-million dollar business to a multi-billion dollar business so he’s been pretty aggressive about money lately. He didn’t even want me flying over here for the gala.”

Marinette snorted much to his amusement. She knew how his dad was and how petty he could be as well.

“And as for your last question,” he paused watching her face carefully. “No, I am not seeing anyone.”

He waited for the reaction, any reaction really. But none came. Instead, she simply nodded as if she expected as much. Maybe he had read into it too much. She really could’ve just been asking for the sake of catching up. Should he ask too? Was that what she was leading up to?

Adrien cleared his throat before taking a long draw from his cup. This was so nerve wracking. She looked so content, so grown. This was a Marinette who had grown leaps and bounds while he was still stuck in this high school romance that was quite possibly one-sided.

“Well, I hate to cut it short but it’s going to be a long day tomorrow and Damian will be here any moment to pick me up.”

She slid out of her seat so effortlessly, her sketch book snapping shut before it disappeared into a bag that he hadn’t even noticed. Her smile was just as warm as he remembered, but something was missing from the girl he loved.

“Your eyes.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Marinette’s smile faltered as she tentatively reached up to touch her eyelid, confusion etching it’s way into her face.

“Is there something near my eyes Adrien?”

“No, no, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I just-” Adrien bit his lip, trying to string his thoughts together before he sounded even more like an idiot. “You used to stare at me with such soft look. I’m sorry I never noticed, but once I did, it was all I could see. Yet now-”

He trailed off as her lips drew into an o, her hand moving slowly from her eye to her lips, trying to hide her shock.

“-now, I can still feel the love in them, love directed at me, but it’s not the same love is it?”

She looked like she wanted to say something, but she couldn't find the right words. He knew she was trying to explain that he was wrong, but couldn’t bring herself to lie. It was the only confirmation he needed.

He slid out of the booth, his hand grasping the scarf slipping from his neck.

“Marinette, I was so excited when you invited me out tonight. In fact, I thought of it as a date.” She tried to reach out, but Adrien took a step back, tears brimming in his eyes. “I don’t blame you at all, please don’t think I’m saying all this to make you feel guilty. I just had to get it off my chest.”

Adrien blinked hard, trying to spill the tears clouding his vision. This was harder to say than he thought. Her eyes were so distracting, the sympathy oozing toward him in waves.

“I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I know you’ve made your life here and I would never dream of taking that from you. Hell, if you asked me to, I would drop everything to be at your side in an instance. Is there any chance at all that after the gala ends, we could give this a shot? Just one real date. Not some deluded fantasy I created in my head, but something we both consent to.”

He flinched when her hand finally made contact with his upper arm.

“Adrien, I love you. I really do. But you were right when you said my eyes had changed. That soft look is meant for someone else now. He and I had tried to keep our relationship quiet, but tomorrow at the gala, I was going to announce my engagement to Damian.”

Adrien couldn’t help the small sob that left his mouth. He was painfully aware of the few scattered glances all directed toward him, but he couldn’t help it. He felt Marinette pulling his head down until it laid resting on her shoulder, her small arms wrapping around his figure. It was embarrassing how hard he cried, unable to hold back his sobs any longer.

“I’m so sorry Adrien, I had no idea your feelings had changed. You were always chasing after a dream when we were younger and when I left Paris, I had finally decided that there wasn’t a chance after all between us.”

He knew she meant her words as a comfort, a promise that at one point, she would have gladly accepted his offer. Why couldn’t he have seen it earlier? Why was he so blinded by a partner who never even revealed herself right to the end? He had someone who trusted and loved him with all of their being and he ignored their feelings for a what if.

Adrien slowly pulled himself from her grasp, his smile shaky. He took a moment to use the end of his scarf to dry his soaked face.

“I’m glad you told me that Marinette. I really am. And I hope you and Damian have a long and prosperous life together.”

Her eyes widened, her mouth forming the wait, but he was already out of the door, running. It was a cowards move, one he would mull over all night. But it was too painful to look into the eyes of one you love and only find pity reflecting in them.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“So you came?”

Adrien turned, his smile bittersweet as he embraced Alya, his fist connecting with Nino’s outstretched hand.

“How could I not support her? She’s worked so hard to make this a reality. My feelings can take a backburner for one night.”Their eyes all trailed to the center of the room where she stood, her arm threaded through with the man he assumed to be Damian Wayne. “Besides, you can tell. She loves that man beside her more than anything in this world.”

The glint of the ring on her finger caused an aching in his heart. Despite it all, he really did wish the Wayne boy no ill will. If he was who Marinette chose to spend the rest of her life with, then Adrien trusted her decision.

“I’ve never seen her smile so bright. And to think, I used to believe her smile was at its maximum blindlingness.” Nino’s chuckle earned a small chuckle from Adrien as well.

There was no denying it.

Marinette was where she belonged. The only thing left was for him to support her in any way that he could. And that was exactly what he planned to do.

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[smells-like-mettaton]

Tali’s Alphys-Centric Fic Rec List

I’ve been meaning to make this for a while!! All fics are oneshots unless marked as a series or with a chapter count.  Thanks to everyone who recced several of these to me on my 12am begging-for-alphys-fics post dfdksdl. These aren’t in any particular order. The “notes” section is my commentary about each fic. No fics are based on full AUs (ex. underswap, horrortale, etc). The only endgame Alphys ship included is Alphyne, though most of the fics listed are gen. Hope you can find something you enjoy here!

Extra Credit by FriedCatfish

Rating: G // Word count: 1,206 Summary: Undyne loses track of time watching anime. Set before the events of the game. Notes: Cute Alphyne oneshot! Short and sweet, very nice characterization

world comes pouring through by feralpheonix

Rating: G // Word count: 1,655 Summary: Alphys reunites with some old friends on the way home from taking care of business. Notes: 2nd person Alphys pov but it surprisingly works? A small moment with Alphys, Bratty, and Catty, which I literally NEVER see content for so it was really refreshing!! Takes place at/near the end of the pacifist route.

white lies to the dead by MiniNephthys

Rating: T // Word Count: 580 Summary: Alphys walks through Waterfall, talking to someone who's not there. Notes: Queen Alphys ending; Alphys “talks” to Undyne after she’s been killed. Hits me right in all the emotions ;;

Found Soul by LibraLibrary

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,331 Summary: Self-worth is a slippery, fleeting little devil, and the bastard flower that killed you isn't helping. Takes place during the final fight of the True Pacifist run, following Alphys from one purgatory to the next. Notes: Very angsty, definitely make sure you’re ready to handle Alphys’s suicidal thoughts, but a very good read! I love seeing the Lost Soul battle from her POV.

And I Feel Fine by Masu_Trout

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,685 Summary: The fallen human is human is fast approaching The Core, and Mettaton is ready to finally take the stage. Now, if only Alphys would stop worrying so much. Notes: Alphys & Mettaton friendship in the no mercy route, but manages to be surprisingly not depressing. Mettaton POV but definitely still deserves to be here. This fic does a great job of characterizing them both and it’s always great to see Alphys working in her element.

Experimentation by pickledragon

Rating: G // Word Count: 1,531 Summary: Alphys is, above all, a scientist. She may watch anime with religious fervor and make horrible Undernet shitposts in her free time, but she is good at her job. She knows what they say about her, behind her back. But when she stands there, time open before her, she resolves to collect data. Each experiment, intentional or not, brings new opportunities to change certain variables and observe others. Alphys is a scientist, after all. Notes: THIS FIC. it’s technically part of a series but it stands on its own (it’s the only one i’ve read by this author). EXCELLENT alphys characterization and writing style. Some Sans & Alphys friendship too which is always stellar. If you didn’t gather from the summary, it’s an alphys starts to remember resets fic.

Memory by Ash_yeet

Rating: T // Word Count: 19,962 // Chapters: 5/20 Summary: It's been two years since monsterkind have joined the humans on the surface, and Alphys is happier than she's ever been. But things can't stay great forever. She starts having nightmares, lapses in memory, flashbacks to things that have never happened. She hopes it will pass... sans is doing his best to adjust to life. When Alphys reaches out to him about her nightmares, he doesn't expect much. He quickly changes his tune. Someone is trying to come back. And they aren't what they used to be.sans and Alphys are trying to move on. But there's one thing they forgot: No matter how hard you try, you can't run from your past. Notes: I’ve only read chapter one so far, but it’s been really good! Looks like it’s going to involve Gaster in some way. Says it’s on short hiatus but was updated in April so doesn’t look abandoned.

Hot and Cold Blooded (Alphyne series) by perniciousLizard

Rating: varies by fic, usually G but a few T and one E // Word count: 36,516 // Works: 18/18 Summary: This series is a place to put all my Alphys/Undyne stories that aren't part of another series. Notes: this series has something for everyone; you can pick and choose which works to read. Most are feel-good fluff and humor, some hurt/comfort too. Some connect to the author’s Sansby series (which i also can’t recommend enough)

When Life Hands You Enantiomers by Kaesa

Rating: T // Word Count: 2,739 Summary: Alphys has a half-finished tile maze puzzle, reams of useless data, and a bunch of piranhas that can't tell the difference between lemon and orange scent. Sans has donuts. Notes: ONE OF MY VERY FAVORITES. Fun puns, science, alphys & sans friendship, piranhas, the opportunity to actually understand organic chemistry references,, it’s so good and fun

Friendshipping by AyuOhseki

Rating: G // Word Count: 4,564 Summary: Sans finds Alphys's secret Sans/Grillby RPF. This won't get weird or awkward or anything, we're sure. Notes: Hilarious Alphys narration, great characterization, it’s just so silly and warms my heart. I love terrible fanfic writer Alphys

social links by simplycarryon

Rating: G // Word Count: 2,525 Summary: Friendship's pretty neat, or so your video games and anime dictate. But you are not an anime protagonist, and you're not sure you know what friendship is any more. Notes: more solid sans & alphys friendship :D

See You Another Time by decamarks

Rating: T // Word Count: 18,500 // Chapters: 1/14 Summary: “Have you ever thought of a world where everything is exactly the same... Except you don’t exist? Everything functions perfectly without you.” Alphys spent a lot of time thinking about what it’d be like to start over. It wasn’t fair for someone like her to escape consequences. She knew that, yet the thought never left her mind—the thought that maybe, just maybe, she could get another chance; that she could abandon her life, her failures—everything—and start anew. But that would never happen. Sometimes, Alphys wondered. Would the world be better off without her? When unexplainable anomalies appear and begin to warp the world around her, Alphys discovers something she was never meant to know: the identity of the former Royal Scientist, and how he met his demise. Doctor W.D. Gaster vanished without a trace; he was erased from reality after an experiment ended in disgrace. Forgotten by the world, shattered across time and space—it’s like he never existed in the first place.And Alphys can’t imagine a better fate. Notes: This is a monster of a first chapter but definitely worth the read!! So much good stuff happening already. I’m a total wuss but I still love the cosmic/existential horror bits going on so far. Great Sans & alphys friendship and Undyne & alphys friendship so far.  All the amalgamates also feel incredibly well written. Can’t wait to see more of this one

(And here are a few of my own Alphys-centric fics as well)

Seventh Time’s the Charm by Taliax

Rating: G // Word Count: 1,519 // Chapters: 1/7 Summary: Six bad "dates" Alphys has been on, plus one that is actually pretty good. Notes: Alphys is my favorite and I love giving her a bad time. First chapter is a “date” she has with Sans. Next chapter which I have in progress is going to be Papyrus. (Alphyne is still endgame of course.) Set mostly before the events tof the game. Get ready for lots of second-hand embarrassment sdlfkjds

Support Character by Taliax

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,814 Summary: If Sans is determined to fight the human, Alphys is going to make sure he's prepared. Notes: Sans & Alphys no mercy route friendship, based on the headcanon that Alphys was the one to give Sans the powers/magic he uses to fight the human.

it's your best life (if it's the life that you're living right now) by Taliax

Rating: T // Word Count: 4,046 Summary: Through messages saved to Sans's phone, Queen Alphys gets a glimpse at lives that might have been.  With so many possibilities... how did this timeline go so wrong? Notes: Sans & Alphys friendship, Queen Alphys ending, mostly angst/hurt/comfort. I’m really proud of this one and it uses my main headcanon for how Sans knows about resets.

The Trans-Underground Alphys-Carrying, Match-Making Road Trip by Taliax

Rating: G // Word Count: 5,713 Summary: From her secret security camera, Alphys gets too invested in Sans's relationship with the voice behind the door.  This wouldn't be a problem if Mettaton didn't decide to take her ship into his own hands. Trying to catch up with a battery-powered robot is hard work, but telling the truth is even harder. Notes: This is a really silly fic with some hurt/comfort sprinkled in. Has some Soriel and Papyton in the background. Has some Alphys & Papyrus friendship as well which is always underrated in my opinion.

[starilicious]

ishq wala love (echo x gn!reader)

》 summary: reader comforts an insecure echo after the end of tbb episode 4 "cornered" about having mechanical parts as part of his body.

》 word count: ~2.2k

click here to read on AO3

》 warnings: slight sensory overload, mild panic attack (i think it could be classified as relatively vague in regards to the description), insecure echo about his body, a teensy bit of in universe swearing, lots of flufffff and a dash of angst here and there, no use of y/n [if i should add more warnings, please let me know!]

》 spoilers: extremely mild ones from tbb episode 4 "cornered"

》 a/n: hello! this is my first tbb fic, so i really hope i do the show, the characters, and the fandom justice hehe ^_^ over the past few days, i've become obsessed with tbb fics, particularly the echo x reader ones bc my GOODNESS this man is such a soft bean who deserves all the love in the galaxy. as a result, please enjoy this sleep-deprived frenzy of a fic that i wrote at 1 am and let me know your thoughts! :)

》 misc. notes:

• title of the fic is from the hindi song "ishq wala love" from the film student of the year. i've linked the song (in blue) with some pretty good english translations in case you would like to take a listen, but it isn't necessary for the fic–i just thought it fit well!

• i kind of got way too invested in building up the environment at the beginning, so apologies if it seems like a slow start! i just had to indulge in having the other characters there too <3

• please ignore the inaccuracies of the havoc marauder. i don't really know what the ship looks like, especially the living quarters, so i unintentionally ended up using the ghost from swr to guide my writing for that part.

• what the reader says at the end about the word in love in her native language is true. the language i'm referring to here is hindi, and we have several different words for love. in my very humble opinion, i think it’s one of the many characteristics of the language that makes hindi so sweet-sounding and poetic :)

• THANK YOU FOR 100 NOTES OMG AHHH YOU ALL ARE TRULY AMAZING 😭<333 (7/1/2021)

After Tech piloted the Bad Batch away from Pantora and safely entered hyperspace, you all decided to turn in to get some rest–or at least attempt to. With the bounty hunter scare, you and the boys figured it would be best to discuss what to do tomorrow morning, for Omega’s sake.

You tucked Omega in with her doll and offered her a comforting smile. “Don’t worry ‘Meg,” you said softly, running a gentle hand through her cropped blonde hair. “You’ll be safe, I promise. You’re stuck with us for life.”

Omega smiled sleepily at your teasing and held her arms out for a hug, one which you gladly indulge. “Sweet dreams, love,” you murmur as you let go. You shut off the lamp in her makeshift room and closed the curtains as you climbed down the ladder.

You turned around to find Hunter looking at you from his seat in front of the blinking controls. You raised an eyebrow as you plopped down in front of him unceremoniously, the exhaustion of the action-packed day catching up to you.

"You're good with her," he murmured as you both glanced at the light beige divider and you shrugged in response.

"Just looking out for her. Besides, you're not so bad yourself. She mimics your every move," you grinned. Hunter chuckled fondly as he recalled the memory where they were all stuck in the Kaminoan prison cell and Omega copied his every gesture.

The two of you lapsed in a comfortable silence as you mulled over the day's events, the hum of the ship thrumming beneath your feet.

"We'll be okay. It's tiring and difficult and none of us know how to raise a child, but we'll be okay," you said, breaking the quiet with optimism. You placed a hand on Hunter's shoulder and smiled. "Crosshair will be okay too. Have faith."

Hunter sighed but nodded in agreement as he put his hand over yours. "Goodnight," he said as he stood up, stretching his muscles.

"Sleep well."

You sat at the small table for a few more minutes to think before standing up yourself. You quickly checked in on Tech in the cockpit since he was on watch, and he immediately shooed you away, insisting you get some sleep. You had a feeling he only did so to optimize the ship in peace without distractions.

Nevertheless, you obliged and left him alone. Walking to the back of the ship, you completed your rounds. Wrecker was snoring loudly and you stifled a laugh. At least he was sleeping well–it was all you could ask for really. But frankly, you had no idea how Crosshair was ever able to sleep through it. Thinking about him and seeing his empty bunk made your heart pang in loss, but you were as determined as the rest of them to somehow bring him back. You had to.

You opened the door to Hunter and Tech’s shared room to find Hunter already sleeping soundly and you quickly left. With his enhanced senses, he was already a light sleeper, and compounded with his responsibilities as a leader, he rarely got any rest. You worried for him.

Last stop was your and Echo's room. You stepped in to find the light still on. Echo was sitting on the floor in front of your bunk, staring at the ground.

"Hey there handsome," you joked lightly in an attempt to get his attention and mask your unease. Echo usually only came near your bunk when something was wrong and after everything that happened today, it was safe to say you were concerned.

Echo didn't respond. Did he hear me? You make your way over to your lover and sit down in front of him. You place your hands on top of his.

"Echo, honey?" You said softly and finally finally he looked up at you. Your heart dropped into your stomach.

"Oh, darling," you breathed and you moved to his side to envelop him into a hug, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck. You didn’t say anything more–you saw the deep pain swirling in his eyes, the grief, the loss. The anger. You let Echo take the lead; you knew how difficult it was to wrangle raging thoughts and muster them into words.

You didn’t know how much time passed of you two sitting on the floor, breathing each other in before Echo spoke.

“Today… when we went on the supply run, I was dressed as a droid.”

You bit your lip, knowing exactly where this was going. But you didn’t interrupt, letting him continue. Your thumb rubbed absentmindedly on his arm as you listened.

“That vendor we were talking to wouldn't take what we had. And then he saw me,” Echo took a deep breath. You stayed quiet, holding his hand in a manner that you hoped soothed his anxieties at least a little bit.

“Hunter sold me as a droid to him. I-I know he doesn’t see me as a droid. I know that. But–” Echo’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat of the emotion building up. Echo didn’t know how to express what he wanted to say. He didn’t even want to speak it aloud–that would make it feel too real. And Echo severely doubted he could handle the heartbreak. Can I do this?

“Cyar’ika,” he murmured and you hummed in response. Echo pulled away from you, his hand still in yours. Now or never. “I need you to be completely, absolutely, 100% honest with me,” he whispered. Echo steeled his expression, doing his best to hide how terrified he truly was.

You nodded because of course you would be. When were you not?

But the way Echo gazed at you threw you off. Something was wrong, very wrong. You were almost scared of what he would say next, but you made a gesture for him to say what was on his mind. Clearly, this was important.

“Do you really want to be with me when I’m just–” Echo struggled with the last few words and you strained to pick them up with how they caught in his throat. “–a pathetic, disgusting, hybrid machine?” It’s out, I said it. I said it. Echo felt like he couldn’t breathe, the pressure on his chest too much, too much. He stared down at the floor, face flooded with shame.

You stared at him in blatant disbelief, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open from a shocked laugh. No no no Echo. You’re nothing of the sort. You didn’t move. Echo’s breath hitched as he looked back up at you, broken and open and raw.

“Don’t lie, please don’t lie to me. I know there's no way you could ever love me when I… when I look like this,” Echo whispered, but he may as well have shouted with the way the blood was rushing through your ears.

And then something in you snapped.

You removed your hands from his and placed them on his cheeks, pulling him in until your foreheads were touching. “Echo, you need to listen to me,” you instructed and heaved a breath as you tried to sort your own rushing thoughts into articulated words. But the effort was futile as your careful speech turned into a haphazard and passionate stream of consciousness.

His eyes glistened with unshed tears and your heart broke into pieces. Echo gave you all of his attention. What are you going to say? He didn’t want you to agree, but he would understand if you did. Echo felt disgusted with himself. The walls were closing in on him. Breathing was getting harder.

“You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t give one flying banthashit about any of your mechanical parts. If anyone ever says anything about them, they’re di’kuts and you can send them my way because I will not hesitate to punch some sense into them,” you spat with pure determination, not even noticing the Mando’a slip. After being surrounded by clones for so long, you absorbed bits and pieces of the language. You didn’t even register how Echo picked up on the word, much too focused on getting your point across. You were a person on a mission and nothing would stand in your way.

The knot in Echo’s stomach was loosening a bit, the storm in his mind beginning to break. The walls were a bit farther from him. He wasn’t drowning in his own presence anymore.

“Because you know what? You’re still my Echo. You’re a man, my dear. Not a machine. You never were, and never will be. These parts?” you gestured to his scomp link, his legs, the cybernetic implant in his head. “They mean nothing. Absolutely nothing. Don’t focus on them.”

You smiled sadly as you rubbed your thumbs gently on his cheeks. “I fell in love with you, Echo, not your body. I love the way you make me laugh, the way you comfort me, the way you cry with me. As much as I kriffing hate that you have been through so much pain because of those damned Separatists, I’m grateful for the fact that I’m in love with a man who would do anything for his family, for his brothers.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you remembered Fives coming back home from the Citadel but no Echo in sight. You would never admit it to anyone, but you swore a piece of you had died that day.

Echo felt like he was going to cry. The pressure that had been building up in his chest was releasing. He could breathe again, slowly, slowly. His only focus was you, was your words. The artificial lights didn’t seem to be as glaring now. They were softer, calmer.

“Echo, my love, even through it all, you not only survived, but you came out on top, victorious,” you paused, briefly overcome with how much love and gratitude you had for this wonderful man. “You came back to me, Echo, and you’re as handsome as ever. I have never stopped loving you, and never will. Don’t you ever forget that darling.”

Echo drew in a shaky breath. The harsh cold of the floor grates was biting into his skin, but he didn’t care. It grounded him as much as your warm touch on his face. He could breathe again. My cyar’ika.

Your fiery and passionate emotional speech came to an end as you stared into your lover’s eyes. There was so much more you could say, but you feared words would not be able to convey it all. You hoped your eyes would be enough to soothe his pained and tired soul.

Silent tears trailed down Echo’s face and you gently brushed them away as you pulled him into a tight hug. It was all you could do to not cry yourself. Echo was always so strong–you admired him for it.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice thick with appreciation and love. You didn’t say anything. There was no need to. The charged air between you both was enough. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence on the floor of the Havoc Marauder, deep in your own thoughts.

“Ishq wala love,” you muttered fondly after some time, still caught up in your own mind.

“Hm?” Echo questioned, curious as to what you said. The soft sound gently pulled you out of the clouds and back to the man in your arms as you attempted to explain.

“There’s a phrase in my native language, ishq wala love. You see, in Basic, there’s just one word for love, which is love. But back home, we have several different words for love, each with their own subtle, but distinct meaning,” you blew out a breath as you tried to figure out what to say. Echo was hanging on to your every word.

“There’s… there isn’t really a direct translation, but the best I can come up with is that the love that we have, ishq, is much deeper than just romantic love. It’s deep and strong and pure and unyielding. It–it reminded me of us,” you admitted, a bit sheepish. Your fingers dance along Echo’s scomp link, nervous.

Echo took a moment to process your explanation before smiling. You felt your heart stitch itself back together again after seeing that beautiful smile. You would do anything to keep it on his lovely face.

“Ishq wala love,” he echoed, his pronunciation a bit off. You giggled in response. “Close enough,” you teased and Echo simply beamed. You leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on his soft lips, rubbing his metal arm gently.

Echo stood up then, offering a hand to you to help you up. You took it and he led you over to the bunk you shared together. You both quickly climbed in, relaxing in the warmth of the well worn blankets and the other’s presence.

Your head was near his chest and you could hear the soothing dull sound of his steady heartbeat. Your arm curled over his waist protectively and your head rested comfortably on his flesh arm. Echo shut off the light and you were ensconced in black velvety darkness.

“Goodnight, cyar’ika.”

“Sweet dreams, Echo. I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

please consider reblogging! it really helps me and is super encouraging ^_^

[lokislittlesigyn]

Luck of the Dice - Loki x Reader [Oneshot]

Part 1 of Sigyn’s Angst-to-Fluff Drabbles

Inspired by Cozy’s Fluff-to-Angst Fun and Games!

Pairing: Platonic!Loki / gender neutral reader

Warnings: None. Except maybe some pillow fighting? Nobody gets hurt.

Author’s Note: This is probably very silly and underwhelming, but I hope it’s still enjoyable. Wanted to try writing something not-specifically-romantic. Romance is great! But you know what? Friendship is great too. <3

@lucywrites02:

A prompt for you 💔

"I lost everything and you're laughing!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It really shouldn’t have gone this far. 

Then again, when you and the god of mischief were left alone in the Avengers Compound for a weekend, what could anyone expect? After all, you and Loki were close friends. Or, as close as anyone could be with the god of mischief. He had a calm and collected demeanor, usually keeping to himself. Far from the alien god-king hellbent on destruction you’d been led to expect.

No, Loki was different. And, with most people, distant. He rarely (if ever) showed his more sensitive side to anyone - except, perhaps, for you.

So, on this weekend when most of the team was out on small missions, and Tony had gone with Pepper for a press conference on the other side of the country, you and Loki were left to your own devices. You’d spent the day alone for the most part, but eventually your friend found you, and though he didn’t say it, you could tell he was lonely. 

You decided a proper hangout session was in order. 

Eventually the ordered-in pizza was long since eaten, and a ridiculous romantic comedy you’d turned on just to hear Loki’s groans of frustration with the plot, long since watched. The two of you chatted for hours, until you suggested playing a game. Loki seemed intrigued, and agreed to play along - but not before declaring he would absolutely win. You responded with a playful scoff and “I’d like to see you try.”

Now you both sat on the floor in the main common area of the compound. Distant drones of the television, the volume of which was reduced to a whisper, sounded in the background. You sat cross-legged in your favorite pajamas, a blanket around your shoulders. Loki, clad in long, soft sweatpants and a dark green shirt you gifted him at last year’s holiday party, was settled across from you. He sipped tea from a mug - which Thor had given him at that same party. He never seemed to use it when Thor was around, but you knew it was his favorite. He was sentimental. You liked that about him.

You’d already explained the game’s rules, going through the ins and outs and technicalities, and giving him the chance to ask any questions. Although he hadn’t attended many Avengers “teamwork building” game nights, he must’ve been listening, because he caught on to the game exceptionally fast.

It all went downhill from there, however.

Okay, maybe introducing the god of mischief to Monopoly wasn’t your best idea -

But it wasn’t your worst idea either, and you’d stand by that.

Besides, most of the games at the compound were strictly for groups, and the others, far too risky. You were not about to open the Pandora’s box that was playing Uno with the god of mischief. 

The two of you played had already racked up properties and utilities. But the moment Loki’s top hat playing piece hit St. James’ Place, your heart sank. He’d completed another set.

“I believe that’s mine.” Loki motioned to the property card and smiled, handing over the appropriate play-money. 

You traded it for the card, grumbling slightly under your breath.

“What was that, my friend?” Loki snapped the card next to his three and a half complete property sets, along with his railroads… This just wasn’t fair.

“Nothing…” You huffed. But you still had a chance. You had Boardwalk and Park Place.

He had no idea what was coming.

“...Just thinking of how you’re going down.” You smiled.

Loki scoffed. “Oh, I’m quaking in my boots.”

The game continued. You built a few hotels, and felt much better about your prospects… Until Loki got hotels too. 

It’s fine! If he lands on those, you glanced at your completed red and pink property sets, along with your prized deep blues, He’s toast. I just need to make it past the orange…

You looked at the board. Gulped. 

Your poor little dog piece stood at the precipice of certain doom. Currently situated on the Electric Company, your own property, you had to roll just the right number to dodge Loki’s looming hotels. He really was ruthless.

“Any day now.” Loki smirked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“I was just thinking.” You shook the dice in your hands.

“Thinking?”

“Yeah. I do that sometimes.”

“Surprising.”

You glared at him, then rolled the dice, moving your piece to - New York Avenue.

Oh, no.

Loki held out an expectant hand. You grumbled, handing him a stack of money from your hand. You were dreadfully low on cash - maybe investing in all that property wasn’t the best strategy… But how else were you supposed to win? You had to win. If the team found Loki had beat you at any game, they’d never let you live it down. 

Loki rolled next, of course dodging your properties perfectly. Your next turn landed you on another one of Loki’s properties, and you forked over the necessary money with a grimace.

Loki merely chuckled, his fingers shuffling through the stack of paper to make sure everything was in order before filing them onto the plump stacks of fake bills before him. Then he rolled - dodging your properties again. You groaned out loud.

“Something wrong?” He smiled.

“No way you’re rolling so well.”

With a shrug, Loki sat back, watching you roll. “Luck of the dice, I suppose.”

“Some luck!” You rolled.

Pennsylvania Avenue.

Your fate was sealed.

Loki had bought the green properties first - of course he had - setting them up handsomely with full upgrades. You looked at the god across from you, and recognized in an instant how intensely frustrating his smug looks could be. His shoulders shook, his knuckles placed in front of his mouth.

Wait...

“You’re laughing?!” You exclaimed.

Loki chuckled, only half trying to hide it as he raised his hands in mock surprise. “Me? I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” he scoffed, but it was choppy with laughter.

“You are! You’re laughing!” Your face heated up. “I lost everything and you’re laughing!” You grabbed a nearby pillow, swinging it at him. He blocked it with his arm, shooting you a devilish grin.

“Oh, come on. What did you expect? I never lose!”

“Oh? Really? You never lose?”

“Never.” Loki smirked. You glared daggers at him, never relenting with your squishy weapon, though each blow was deflected by his arm “Woah- Hey. You’re awfully violent,” Loki chuckled, “Need to sit down?”

“Shut up!”

“Perhaps a rematch?”

“Not in this lifetime!” You laughed, chucking the pillow at him and returning to your previous spot. He grabbed it, snorting with indignance.

“Attacking me will get you nowhere, you know.” Loki held the pillow aloft, flashing you a smirk. “But then again, the first stage of grief is denial, eventually leading to acceptance-”

The next pillow you tossed hit Loki square in the face. Even he laughed, though not before tossing it back at you and hitting you in the chest - you chuckled, holding it to yourself.

“Now that I’ve demolished you in that silly game, why don’t we settle down?” Loki stretched, wiping his loose black curls back from his face. “It’s late.”

You checked the time - woah, when did it get that late? “Ah, yeah, you’re right. And you get cranky when you don’t sleep, so.” You stood, stifling a yawn.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki was standing across from you, his brow furrowed.

“What? You’re always grumpy after a bad night’s sleep. You are.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he snorted through his nose, though you noticed a twinge of humor in his expression. “You’re the one who’s grouchy in the mornings. Absolutely unbearable.”

“Oh, hush.”

Loki chuckled, settling onto the opposite couch. 

As you snuggled onto the couch underneath your blanket, you swore to yourself you’d never play against the god of mischief again. Then again, seeing him laugh and smile so genuinely almost balanced out the annoyance of losing… Maybe you could be partners in the next team game. You had a good chance of convincing him to join, after all. He seemed to trust you.

You looked over at him. Yes, Loki must’ve trusted you, because he was already asleep on the other couch with a serene expression. He looked so calm, so… Happy. You smiled to yourself.

Maybe losing was worth it after all.

[the-cult-of-russo]

No Going Back (part 2)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader 

Request : Hey love, can you please do a part 2 to “no going back” where the reader is with a new partner that treats them better and shows how happy y/n is (after a few months of heart break) & billy is upset and dealing with the aftermath of his actions - regret - or not being able to find someone like reader. I’m in the mood for sad!billy because my heart broke for myself in the last one lmfao, they could meet again with y/nS new partner idk go crazy babe!

A/N: Welcome to the Land of Pain. Enjoy the deep rooted sadness and heartache lmao why am I so invested in Sad!Billy? Like really, let me give him a hug or something 😂 this one kind of took on a life of its own and I couldn't help the comforting at the end lmao sue me.

Also, I keep the description of the new partner vague so you can imagine whoever you want. Personally I was thinking Charlie Hunnam because 👀🙃 but this way you can picture whoever. 

Warnings: cursing, some angst, heaps of sadness and despair (for Billy), very much Sad!Billy. Lil bit of fluff too

You never thought you'd find happiness, not after Billy. But sometimes you find things when you least expect it, or they find you. You'd spent months healing after what happened with Billy and at times you honestly thought the pain wouldn't stop. The saving grace was the fact Billy actually kept his distance and didn't contact you. At first you weren't sure if that hurt more or not. But the clean break allowed you to heal and you knew deep down that's why he did it. It had been hard knowing he loved you, that he wanted to fix things. If he had just been an asshole then it would have been easier to get over him. You could hate him. But you couldn't. Part of you would always belong to him but you had to move on. And you did. 

Jacob was a great guy and you'd met through a friend. He took you on dates, doted on you. He was there and he listened and he treated you amazingly. And for the first time since Billy, you hadn't compared Jacob to him. Previous dates were always measured up to Billy but when you met Jacob, you didn't even think about your past lover. 

You'd been with Jacob now for 4 months, it being half a year since the split with Billy. Everything was looking up for you and you finally felt like things were on the right track. You still thought about Billy sometimes. Wondered if he was okay, what he was up to. You couldn't help it. You just hoped one day he'd find happiness too. It hurt that he hadn't allowed that with you but you hoped he'd let it happen with someone one day. 

-------

Billy had experienced pain in all forms in his life. The pain of abandonment from his mother, from the shit in the group home, being in the marines and everything after. He'd always dealt with it. Picked himself back up and moved on. He got back up every time and was always stronger for it. But this time… this time he was weak and he couldn't do a damned thing about it. 

Losing you, all through his own bullshit fault, had been by far the worst thing he'd ever been through. The worst kind of pain. Being shot in the heart would hurt less than the agony and waking hell that had been his life since you begged him to leave your apartment 6 months ago. It felt like only 6 days ago yet 6 years at the same time. It was a never ending spiral of darkness and despair. 

And it was all his own fault. His inability to just be a normal fucking human with emotions had ruined the best thing he ever had. He deserved this pain. He deserved every bit of it. He'd done a lot of bad shit in his life but this was the worst. He couldn't get your face out of his head. How you looked at him with such betrayal and hurt. And he'd caused that. He'd caused those tears to stream down your face, he'd caused that pain. So he'd wallow in his misery and take every inch of pain he was in because he deserved it all. 

He'd thrown it all away, and for what? The sex with the other women hadn't even been good. He hadn't enjoyed it because it wasn't you. And then after, the guilt would eat him alive. But he kept doing it. He couldn't stop himself because he was overwhelmed. He loved you. He actually fucking loved you and he didn't deserve you at all. He never thought he'd love anyone. Didn't think he was capable of such a thing, yet here he was. And he never thought in a million years that anyone would ever love him. His own mother didn't, so why would anyone else? He kept replaying over and over when you told him you loved him that day. The pain had ripped through him like C4. He'd fucked up so badly and he couldn't fix it. He'd finally had a taste of what it was like to be loved and to love someone and it was snatched away in a heartbeat because of his own actions. 

He couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. He lost some weight and was well aware of the dark circles around his eyes. He'd taken to drinking every night just to numb the pain and hope your face didn't haunt his dreams. He hadn't even slept with another person since. He couldn't bring himself to. He was a mess. All he wanted was you and he couldn't have you. 

------

You and Jacob were on your way to a little cafe you frequented for lunch. You felt happy, radiant even as you both walked hand in hand. The weather was warming up and the sun bathed you in its warm glow as you walked. Everything felt right. Just as you got to the outside of the cafe, his phone rang. 

"Shit, I need to take this, babe," he sighed. You smiled up at him, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"It's okay. I'll see what they have today," you smiled. He gave you a wide smile, kissing you softly before he stepped away a bit to answer the phone. There was no anxiety. No wondering who he was talking to. You felt settled and content. 

You glanced through the window of the cafe where they displayed fresh baked sweet treats. They had different ones every day and you pressed up against the window, eyes glancing around as you tried to decide if you wanted a glazed donut or a cinnamon bun. Probably the donut.

"Y/N?" The shocked voice felt like a splash of cold water. You knew that voice anywhere. You turned around to see Billy, wide eyed as he stared at you. He looked… oh Billy. Your heart ached at the state of him. He was still in his fancy suit with his hair neat and slicked back. But he looked exhausted, his dark eyes sad. It hurt.

"Hey, Billy," you murmured with a soft smile. You thought about what it would be like if you saw him again. You thought it would bring all the pain back. The anger. But you were hurting for a different reason. You were hurting for him this time. 

He glanced at the floor, looking somewhat out of place and his usual confidence seemed to be left at home. When he glanced back up at you, looking at you through his lashes, he looked like a lost boy. 

"You look good," he said quietly. You smiled sadly, shifting where you stood. 

"You look tired," you countered softly. He chuckled, the noise hollow sounding and you'd be a liar if you said you didn't miss him. Part of you wondered if you could have stayed friends but you didn't think it would help.

"Yeah, I'm uh… not sleepin' so good," he shrugged like it was nothing and you frowned. 

"Billy-" you started, only to be cut off by Jacob coming back over and wrapping an arm around your waist. 

"Sorry, I'm done now," he smiled down at you, kissing your cheek. It wasn't done as a display of possessiveness like Billy would have. It was simply affection. But you saw how Billy's jaw clenched, eyes hardening as he looked at him.

"Uh… Jacob, this is Billy. Billy, this is Jacob," you said carefully. You didn't need to say that Jacob was your boyfriend. It was obvious and you didn't want to rub salt in Billy's wounds. Jacob's brows raised a little, arm moving from around you as he looked at Billy. 

"Oh. It's a pleasure to meet you, I've heard a lot about you," Jacob said amicably as he extended his hand. Billy glanced at it like it was a poisonous snake before glancing at you. You gave him an imploring look and he swallowed thickly before shaking Jacob's hand. 

"Nothin' good, I bet,'' Billy smiled bitterly. Ouch. That hurt. 

Jacob looked at Billy hesitantly with a small smile. 

"Actually… Y/N had nothing but good things to say about you. Except for how it all ended but… there were a lot of good things," Jacob said softly. It made you smile. You'd told him everything about you and Billy and he'd never seen it as an issue. And the fact he was trying here really meant something to you.

Billy looked taken aback for a moment before his face schooled back to the mask of indifference he'd wear often. He glanced at you then at Jacob again as Jacob gave your hand a squeeze.

"I'll get us a table and give you two a minute," Jacob murmured to you. It wasn't lost on you how he purposely didn't kiss you like he normally would. He wasn't petty. He wouldn't hurt Billy or rub it in his face. 

Once Jacob was inside you looked at Billy as he glared off to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

"Billy… I'm sorry, I…" you frowned. You wished he hadn't found out this way. Not when you saw how badly he was hurting. He chuckled humorlessly and shook his head.

"Don't … Don't do that," he bit out. 

"Do what?" You asked with a frown. His obsidian eyes turned to you then, full of such pain and sadness that it felt like you'd been punched in the gut.

"Don't… apologise to me. I don't deserve shit," he muttered, jaw clenched. 

You took a step closer to him and he looked down at you, rolling his shoulder a little. 

"Look… you fucked up. It happened. But I don't … I don't hate you, okay? I never could. I don't want to see you hurting like this," you lamented. His lower lip wobbled a little before he clamped down on it with his teeth, glaring at the floor with glassy eyes. 

"You should hate me," he replied tensely. 

"Well I don't. I forgive you. I don't know if that's helps or anything but… you need to forgive yourself, Billy," you said as you moved closer, looking up at him. His eyes met yours for a moment before he looked away. 

He was so tense, hands in his pockets as his shoulders were set and his body was rigid. 

"Does he uh… he treat you good?" He asked, voice strained as his eyes drifted to the window of the cafe before back to you. You nodded, worried if you vocalised it that it might hurt him more. He scrunched his nose a little, his shoulder rolling again.

"He make you happy?" He asked quietly. It sounded like it brought him great pain to even ask and you looked away with a sigh.

"Billy…" you frowned, not wanting to answer. 

"Just… please. Does he make you happy?" He asked again, a little firmer this time. You met his eyes as you nodded. 

His jaw ticked as he nodded stiffly, glaring off to the side.

"Good… good, you deserve to be happy," he muttered softly. 

"So do you," you replied sincerely. Black eyes snapped to yours then as he scoffed. He opened his mouth to no doubt say something fueled by self hatred but you spoke before he had the chance. 

"I'm serious. I want you to be happy, Billy. You need to allow yourself to feel things and one day you'll get that. You'll find happiness one day," you implored.

He blinked at you for a moment, his eyes shining from moisture.

"I want that with you. And I know… I know I can't. I know we can't fix this. But I just… I don't think I could find that with someone else," he admitted softly. He looked so sad and it was wounding you. You hated seeing him so vulnerable and lost like this. It was so far from the Billy you knew and loved. This Billy was the Billy that woke from nightmares about the group home or from when he was overseas. The Billy you'd comforted many times before. It always hurt you when this side of him was out. 

"There'll always be a part of my heart with your name on it, Billy. I'm sorry it didn't work out but it doesn't mean I don't care at all," you breathed. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a shaky breath at your words. 

"This… this is why I never deserved you. You're too good for me, too kind and… caring. I don't deserve somethin' precious like you. I don't deserve anythin' good," he muttered bitterly. You knew this spiral well. How he got in his own head and went down the rabbit hole of hating himself. 

You took another step towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You just wanted him to be okay. To stop hurting. He may have hurt you, broke your heart, but you didn't want this for him. You wanted to comfort him and this was the only way you knew how. You felt his arms wrap around you, one fisting your shirt and the other in your hair as he held you close. He buried his nose in your hair and inhaled deeply. 

"Stop hating yourself. Do it for me. I hate seeing you like this," you whispered forlornly as you held onto him tightly. 

His hand in your hair tightened a little and you could feel a slight tremor running through his body. 

"I'm a mess without you," he lamented, slightly muffled by your hair. 

"You need to allow yourself to move on," you replied softly. You went to move away but his arms tightened and you allowed him to hold you a moment longer. He'd called you his anchor once. You hadn't really believed him but now it seemed like he was floating away and you were the only thing tethering him here. 

He pressed a kiss to your hair before releasing you but you didn't step back too far as you blinked up at him. 

"Maybe we… maybe we can…" he trailed off uncertainly and your chest constricted painfully. You really hoped he wasn't going to ask for another chance because shooting him down in the state he was in would kill you. 

"I wanna… could we be friends? I won't… I won't get in the way or anythin', I just… maybe if I could text you sometimes? Just to know you're okay?" He asked hesitantly as his dark orbs flit to the window of the cafe before back to you.

You weren't sure if it was a great idea. You didn't know if it would help if you were honest.

"Billy… I don't know if that's a good idea," you murmured sadly. His eyes bore into you, pleading and desperate.

"Please? I know that I-I can't have you. Not the way I want. But I need you in my life, even just as a friend. You not bein' there at all… it's left a gaping hole and I…" his hand went to his chest, rubbing over where his heart was. 

"Okay, you can text me if you need me. But only as friends," you relented, stating the last part firmly. A small smile graced his face then, eyes lighting up ever so slowly. You hoped this wouldn't be a bad idea. 

"I appreciate it. And… as much as it hurts… to see you with… Jacob. I am happy for you," he said Jacob's name like it pained him but his eyes were sincere as he looked at you. It made you smile a little. 

"Thank you, Billy," you murmured. He gave you another small hesitant smile as he nodded.

"I'll uh… let you get back," he said with a nod. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him again, around his middle this time as your head rested on his chest. He didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you tightly. His hand going to your hair like it always did. You could hear the rapid thumping of his heart in your ear. 

"It was good seeing you," you said softly. You meant it too. 

You always thought it would be difficult seeing him again, and it was in a way. It hurt seeing him this cut up about it. But it wasn't how you imagined it would go. You weren't angry at him, you didn't feel the same pain you did on that day. The only pain you felt was for the broken man in holding you. You wanted to comfort him and you'd missed him. He'd been a constant in your life for a while, even before you officially got together. 

"It was good seein' you too," he sighed, squeezing you a little. When you stepped back, he gripped your face and for a moment it startled you. But he planted a firm kiss to your forehead before stepping back. Once again, you allowed him that. You couldn't help it. 

You gave him a soft smile and he returned it with a sad one of his own. You forced your feet to move as you made your way into the cafe. Jacob was sitting there patiently waiting at a table with a coffee and a donut waiting for you. You grinned at him as you sat down and he leaned over to kiss your cheek.

"Everything okay?" He asked softly, stroking your cheek.

"Yeah," you sighed. You really hoped Billy would forgive himself for everything that happened. He didn't need to punish himself like this. 

"Good… he'll get over it one day. Just give him some time, babe," Jacob murmured as if he knew what you were thinking. You gave him a warm smile as you laced your fingers with his. 

You hoped he was right. You hoped that being friends with Billy would work and maybe help him. You still weren't sure if it was a good idea or not but he seemed adamant it would help him. It was hardly how you ever imagined it would go but it was how the cards fell. All you could do was wait and see what happened and hope that maybe you could help Billy through it. It was kind of upside down and all ass upwards. Helping the man that broke your heart get over you. But you still cared about him and you'd do whatever you could to help him through it.