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simmerandwrite · 1 year

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Sink Into Me - 04 - mob!Steve Rogers x plus size! reader

Summary: You were simply doing a good deed, pulling the handsome stranger out of the way when a car jumped the curb. Little did you know that the life you saved belonged to Steve Rogers, the Army veteran turned art dealer with connections to the Brooklyn crime syndicate.

Steve Rogers, who won’t stop calling you his guardian angel.

Steve Rogers, whose new goal in life just might be repaying his debt to you.

Steve Rogers, who isn’t shy until it comes to his feelings and will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07

Wordcount: 7k

Warnings: smut (Steve is obsessed with you, okay?), drinking, drug use, canon level violence (series), body image issues (series)

Notes: Hey! Here we goooo people. Things are getting very exciting!! Thank you to everyone who has read the first few chapters - I appreciate all the interest! While I’m grateful for every single ‘like’ on the chapters, a comment or reblog goes a long way to let me know how you are enjoying the story :) I’d love to hear your thoughts and feelings and predictions!!! ( if you see me in the wild, i’m @simmerandcry)

“Hello?”

“Hey you. What’re you doing?”

“Attempting to build some boxes but Herc just decided to nap on them..” You could hear voices echoing beyond wherever Steve was calling you from. “What’s going on?”

“Can you come hang out?”

God, you wanted to see him. To say you were falling for the man felt juvenile, but you couldn’t figure out any other way to describe it.

The apartment offer had really sent you further into the depth of it - considering you knew you’d be stupid not to take the new apartment. But the fact that Steve had taken it upon himself to either come over every night until you moved, or invited you and Hercules to his place, or called you and stayed on the line until you fell asleep - how could you not be head over heels for the man?

You were trying to stay level headed and calm about the whole thing. Trying and failing, really. Because you knew that if you spent a few extra moments to use your rational brain, some things about Steve and his lifestyle did not align with yours even a bit. Despite that, you remained vigilant on the task at hand and decided that ignoring everything else for the time being was your best bet.

“Hang out?” You leaned against your kitchen counter, taking in your half emptied cupboards. Truthfully, you were tired of packing and had made a lot of progress already. Plus, you’d managed to take a few days off work coming up to aid in your apartment transition. “Where are you?”

“At the club. Can you come hang out?”

You laughed to yourself. “Shield is open on Tuesday nights?”

“For the owner, it’s always open.” Steve’s voice grew softer, quieter. “I want to see you, baby. Please?”

You were falling hard.

---

At first, you were relieved that your landlord agreed to your quick release from your agreement - but it barely left you with enough time to pack and get your shit together.

Now that your week was over and your life was mostly packed away into boxes, you could see the exciting next steps occurring. Steve had arranged a few people to help you move, you had a whole new apartment to decorate, and your mom was coming to visit at the end of your week off. Those were all promising, exciting things.

With a final over dramatic sigh, you flopped down on your bed and reached for your phone. Your entire night had been consumed by packing up your bedroom and you’d been desperately waiting to hear something from Steve. Anything would do, really.

You hadn’t seen him since earlier that week when you had ventured to see him at the club. What you had pictured as a quiet little evening with him had actually been much more - considering you showed up and it seemed like his entire close circle of friends were at the bar too. Though they kept their work related talk clipped and quiet, you had a feeling those sorts of evenings weren’t all that rare.

Everyone you met had been very friendly, at least. It was a bit intimidating to walk in and have to meet so many new faces, but you had a feeling this was a rare occurrence - Steve bringing in someone for them to get familiar with.

You could see it especially in the way he blushed at Sam and Bucky’s commentary and in the way he kept a protective hand on you as you sat at the bar and talked with Nat, who described herself as Steve’s ‘real right hand woman’ and Yelena, who managed bar operations at the club. When Kate showed up and saddled up beside her girlfriend Yelena, you could see Steve’s shining grin as you filled Kate in on your dreams to open an animal rescue in the future.

It was nice. But you had secretly been hoping for some time with just Steve.

For a reason you couldn’t quite pinpoint, you and Steve still hadn’t escalated the physical side of things beyond making out. Even when you woke up in bed together with his very obvious morning excitement, attempts to go just a bit further always fell away.

It didn’t make much sense - beyond the physical signs, Steve’s words were often flirty and edging well beyond appropriate language.

Unfortunately, as much as you could rationalize the pace, it was really making an impact on your sanity and self-esteem. Maybe Steve just wasn’t attracted to you.

S Rogers [8:33PM]: have you eaten dinner? Can i bring some thai food over? S Rogers [8:34PM]: I can help you finish packing? You [8:37PM]: I’ve given up on packing but yes to thai food!! ty :)

Maybe he just wasn’t interested in you that way.

Maybe he was seeing someone else, too. You’d never discussed anything about exclusivity and maybe it was too soon for that and and maybe-

Maybe.. Augh, you had to stop yourself from spiraling.

Selfishly, you had never been so attracted to another person and you wanted to indulge. You wanted to feel Steve’s hands all over your body, feel his lips explore beyond your neckline, see every detail of those tattoos on his chest.

You wanted Steve, all of him.

A knock at the door and an additional buzz from your phone let you know Steve had arrived. You stood from the bed and pulled yourself together. You had long since changed from your work clothes into a pair of athletic shorts and a tank top, mostly to avoid overheating as you packed and cleaned the space.

Truthfully, your anxiety about Steve would typically convince you to cover up with a sweater, as a layer of protection from any sign of rejection, but with an insane urge of courage, you just powered on ahead and headed towards the door to let him in.

What was it Claire had said to you? To stop playing it safe, to take a leap of faith?

“Hey!” You greeted him with a big smile as you opened the door, stepping out of the way so he could come inside. Beyond his full arms of - oh god, he was in another blue suit. This one was much less formal than the first you had seen him in, lacking both a vest and button up underneath. Instead, the dark blue sports coat matched his slacks over a plain white t-shirt. Once again, you found yourself staring at the tattoos peeking out near the neckline.

You watched him swallow and hinge his jaw slightly, matching your grin.

“Hi.” Steve came in quickly, shutting the door and side stepping most of your boxes. “You’ve been productive.”

“I am so ready to move on from here,” you admitted, leading him towards the kitchen where he unloaded the bag from his arms. “My shower hasn’t had hot water in days.”

“I’m relieved you’ll be out of here, too,” Steve replied, shaking his head firmly as he unpacked the bags. “I wasn’t sure what your spring roll preference would be so I–” As he turned back to look at you, Steve trailed off, eyebrow raised as he caught your stare from across the room. “Are you okay?”

You took in a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as you went ahead and bit the bullet. “I just need to be straightforward and ask you something, alright? Are you seeing anyone else?”

Steve’s eyes blew out wide for a brief moment before narrowing again, tipping his head curiously as he watched you. “What? No.”

“I know we haven’t discussed like, dating or what we are to each other, it’s probably way too early for that but I.. we haven’t had sex yet and I was thinking maybe it’s because you’re with someone else too and you don’t want to be with me and–”

“Oh no, it’s not that at all, I swear.” With a slow breath, Steve leaned against the counter and dragged one hand behind his neck.

You swallowed hard and watched him closely. Oh god, he was either going to let you down easy or.. Wait. You let him collect himself, because if you were reading him correctly… The man was nervous. Were you making him nervous?

You were making Steve Rogers nervous. Damn.

He cleared his throat, clutching the countertop behind his hips with tight fists. “Listen, I don’t do this. I don’t date or - or pace myself, very often. But with you, with this..” His teeth grazed over his bottom lip carefully. “I guess I don’t know what it is yet - what we’re doing here, what you want–”

You prayed for guidance and wisdom and forgiveness from anyone who might be listening, because when the words finally escaped the back of your throat, you had no idea what you were in for. With a sharp inhale, you cut him off. “You, Steve. I want you.”

Steve took that as permission enough, propelling himself forward. His hands flew up to your face, holding you steady as he crashed into you, his lips studying yours with unquestionable promise.

Your hunger matched his - as your own hands grabbed onto his waist, pulling him even closer. And when his hips pushed against yours, a groan sounded off within him. From deep in his chest, it reverberated into your own. With one hand, he moved to cradle the back of your neck and when he -

“Oh, fuck.” You gasped as he fisted at your hair, exposing your neck as his lips and tongue continued their journey of exploration. “Steve..”

This man already had you whimpering.

He released his hand and moved back slightly, peering down at you, barely hiding his smirk as evidence of his affect on you showed on your face. Your warm cheeks, deep breathing, swollen lips.

“Are you okay? Is this okay?” One of his hands returned to your cheek, dragging his thumb down and across your lips. “Because I’ve wanted to do this for weeks now, wanted to know what you taste like and how to make you whimper and shake and..”

All you could do was nod, opening your mouth slightly as he pressed his thumb against your tongue. As if testing the waters, he pressed it just further and your mouth closed around it.

“Oh, sweetheart - I’m going to ruin you. You gonna let me?”

You batted your eyelashes and nodded hard as he slowly removed his thumb. “Yes. Yes please.”

Suddenly, the chaos and disarray of your entire apartment was gone. Your bedroom especially was a mixture of half packed boxes and clothes, though that was the last thing on your mind as Steve guided you towards your bed. Effortlessly, without even breaking away from your mouth.

His lips ravaged yours - like every single opportunity to taste you and feel your tongue was something he needed to savor. You couldn’t hold back though - letting your hands roam all over his body, pushing away his suit jacket. He tossed it down on the ground and you pulled back.

“Wait - do you need to hang that up?”

Steve raised his eyebrows, a playful smirk growing across his face. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

You matched his grin, toying with the buttons on his shirt. “You’re clearly a suit guy. I can only imagine your dry cleaning bill and–”

He cut you off with another kiss, hands scrambling to caress the smooth fabric of your shorts against your skin. And then his hands stopped, snaking beneath the waistline and firmly gripping your backside.

“Fuck,” he hissed out, growling against your neck. “I have been dying to touch you, sweetheart. This fucking ass..”

Your responding laugh caught in your throat when he let go briefly, only to grip you again with even more force. Steve was an ass man, good to know.

“Okay, I’ve gotta have you..” He quickly pulled your tanktop up and over your head, then nudged you back on the bed.

You thought you’d be nervous - finally being exposed to Steve like this, almost entirely naked under the terrible lights of your bedroom. But instead you felt excited and, well, safe. Because the way he was looking down at you as he undressed, a look that was crossed between carnal rage and admiration, you knew it would be okay. That Steve wanted to be there, in that exact moment the same way you wanted to.

All your maybes floated away.

You reached behind your back to unhook your bra and started on the waistband of your shorts next, but Steve stopped you.

“No, I want to..” He let out a deep exhale as he joined you on the bed, left in just his own boxer briefs. He dragged his hand across his mouth, grinning as he scanned over you. “Damn.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, fighting off the urge to shy away from his stare. His own body was impressive, to say the least. He couldn’t hide his tight muscles under his clothes but finally seeing them, seeing how his skin was littered with tattoos, how the gold chain around his neck rested against his chest - damn was right.

Steve crawled up towards you, laying at your side, hands gripping your hips as he pulled you in close. His lips went to work again, ravaging your neck with a series of wet kisses until he got to your shoulder. His teeth grazed your skin as one hand came up to your chest.

You didn’t waste time either, trying to focus as he explored your skin. You reached down and pressed your hand against his box briefs, eliciting a deep rumble from his chest as you palmed his length. He was hard already and you couldn’t wait to get your hands on him.

“Fuck..” You couldn’t help but beam as Steve took in a sharp breath, promptly dropping his hand to stop yours. “If you..” He stopped himself again and closed his eyes. “I’m trying to pace myself, sweetheart.” Before you could even argue, he was adjusting to lay you flat against the bed. With one elbow he propped himself beside you, while the other continued to explore.

Steve was thorough and thank god for that. Both his lips and his fingertips found places on your skin you weren’t certain another person had touched before - the delicate skin between your breasts, the nape of your neck, every inch of your soft stomach. Every decision seemed intentional, calculated - as if he wanted to savour every second and capture every piece of you in his mind forever.

You were lost in a state of mind you hadn’t succumbed to for a long time. A swirling mixture of excitement and nerves washed over you as he inched closer and closer to your waistline.

“I wanna see you come, baby,” he spoke slowly, cautiously tugging on the edge of your underwear.

You met his eyes, sensing he was asking for permission, checking in to make sure you were okay. You nodded quickly, chewing on your lip in anticipation. “Yes, please.”

He was off like a mad man, grinning as you lifted your hips and he peeled away your underwear. And when he grazed his fingers across you, against your slick, he didn’t waste anymore time.

It echoed in the back of your mind that Steve had mentioned he didn’t do this, he didn’t date but damnit, he clearly knew what he was doing. While his fingers circled your clit, he watched you closely - as if part of his strategy was catching every clue you gave him to ensure maximum satisfaction.

And when you gasped –

“Right here, baby? Is this good? Are you gonna come for me?” He didn’t relent as you grabbed the sheets at your side, bucking your hips into his hand as he worked. “Look at me, look at me baby. I want to see you come.”

You were nearly panting as you finally looked up at him, catching the biggest grin on his face as his ministrations continued. He played you expertly through your climax, whimpering out his name as he carried on, slipping a finger into you as you shook.

The man certainly had a strategy now. You were literally putty in his hands, shaking again and again as he laid his entire palm flat against you, working both your clit and reaching for that secret spot inside you too.

“Again, baby. Come on.” He dipped down this time, lips finding yours in a fervor you hadn’t ever experienced before. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Fuck, I could watch you forever..”

He relented soon enough, when you clamped your hand on his to finally slow it down. Your head was spinning still, almost completely forgetting you were in your mess of an apartment with this adonis of a man grinning in pride at your side. And shit, this was still just the foreplay.

“That was..” You stuttered, reaching a hand up to pull him closer. “..thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he returned with a laugh, finally leading his hand away from you. And then he even had the audacity to lick his fingers clean and you nearly died all over again.

“I can.. If you want me to or we can..condoms..” You nudged your head to the side table. “Top drawer.”

Steve was grinning again, hurrying to shake off his boxers and hover above you before reaching towards the table. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as he grabbed from the drawer, although your eyes grew wide when you considered that he might find your–

“Oh - and what is this?”

“A girl has needs, okay?” You swatted at his hand as he gripped your vibrator. “Steve, there are more important matters at hand here..”

When he clicked the bottom button of your bullet vibe, you nearly died.

“Small and mighty,” he muttered out, licking his lips momentarily before returning it to the drawer. “We’re using that next time too.”

Your mouth dropped open at his casual, authoritative tone. “Okay.. yeah, we should.”

“That’s my girl,” Steve laughed in agreement, kneeling beside you on the bed as he put on the condom. “Ride me, baby?”

Under typical circumstances, it wasn’t your ideal way to start a sexual relationship with a person. It had taken you some time to feel comfortable on top and although you did love how it felt, the angle and position of your body often left you feeling a bit insecure. But then you considered the situation - here was Steve, laying down on your bed, hard and ready to have sex with you. Clearly he didn’t give a shit about what your body looked like - or even better, maybe he enjoyed it.

“Baby, please. I want to feel you.”

All it took was him licking his lips and you were decided.

In an attempt at being graceful, you straddled him and angled yourself above him. Lord, the man was certainly blessed physically - from his broad shoulders to his tight waist to his cock, he lived up to his Big Dick Energy. And shit, as you sunk down - you were nearly ready to come again already.

“All the way, sweetheart.” Steve was already breathless as he gripped your hips, bucking his own up gently to elicit a moan from you. “I swear you were made for me.”

You were beginning to think the same thing.

You did your best to start slow, adjusting to his size as you moved on top of him. But Steve really couldn’t hold back, apparently. He guided you to control the pace and it didn’t take him long to really take the lead.

You folded yourself down and pressed your lips to him, as he pistoned his hips upwards into you. Christ, you were done for in moments - between his controlled thrusts and the way he was whispering into your ear, another orgasm crashed through you.

“I want you, baby. Since the moment I saw you, since you crashed into me, I’ve wanted this.” He cradled you against him, soft flesh against the strong build of his own chest. And finally, finally, you could feel it coursing through your bodies - the same energy, the same connection, the same longing that finally spilled over. Whatever was stirring your heart and mind and soul, it seemed to match Steve too.

With another rush of thrust, Steve reached his own peak, letting out a feral groan as he shook.

“Thank the universe for giving me you, baby.”

Although moving was always a tumultuous process, you were so grateful for your mother and her innate ability to organize your life. She ventured into the city to help you get set up in your new place and it had been beyond helpful - the time with your mom was exactly what you needed.

“So, when do I get to meet him?” Your mom finally asked the question you knew she had been dying to ask. Throughout your entire last few days, from unpacking the rest of your boxes and bins to rearranging your closet to shopping for a new couch - you just knew it had been on the tip of her tongue. In all honesty, you had been surprised she had waited so long to let it out.

You took a step away from your bookcase, casting a smile her way as she stacked a few plates into your cupboard. “Mom.”

“What? I’m not an idiot, love,” your mom replied, matching your pose with a hand on her hip. “Some generous friend of yours gets you a deal on an apartment, sends you flowers twice since you've moved in a week ago, makes you smile throughout the day as you check your phone..”

“I just.. We…” You sighed, scrunching up your face and taking a few steps towards her. “Mom, I like him so much. After I moved in and everything was a mess he packed a whole picnic lunch to eat on the floor with me, using a box as a table. A picnic, mom! I mean, most of it was straight from the deli down the block but..” With a heavy sigh, you closed your eyes. “I don’t know if it’s going to last. We’re very different in a lot of ways.” You leaned against the counter, letting out a long breath. Truthfully, it was the first time you admitted that out loud. And it scared you.

You liked Steve - a lot. More than you could remember ever feeling for someone else before. At first, you worried it might be some strange puppy love infatuation. But the more you actually got to know Steve, the more your heart felt knotted up in your chest.

And god, the sex. You didn’t have the heart to tell your Mom that just days ago Steve had you pressed up against those exact kitchen counters she was unpacking on.

“Different isn’t necessarily bad,” your mom finally replied, with one of those knowing sort of nods. “Especially if the foundation is good, the big stuff and the long term - if those can align, different can survive, I think.”

You smiled. “Yeah, maybe. I’m just trying to… be realistic.”

You were plagued with doubt in the back of your mind - not because of Steve, necessarily. But because you weren’t a stranger to blind trust and pain, both you and your mother had experienced that enough when your dad left. Didn’t your mom think their foundation had been good?

“Love,” your mom took a step forward and grabbed your nearest hand. “Don’t stress about it too much, okay? But if you’re too cautious, you’re going to miss out on a lot.” You knew she was speaking from experience and god, that broke your heart. “Now, I will drop the topic for the time being but I think I deserve to see a photo of him at least. The Mom tax.” Her eyes dropped to her watch. “Oh, I’ve gotta get going soon.”

“Maybe a photo,” you nodded with her. That seemed like enough of a compromise. “Herc needs some air - we’ll walk you.”

Your mom was capitalizing on her trip to the city and managed to book a coffee catch up date with an old friend and honestly, you were grateful for it. You appreciated every reminder that your mom was doing okay on her own these days.

The cafe was just a few blocks away, tucked between a little bistro Steve had actually taken you to a few days ago and..

“Mom,” you paused at the crosswalk, gripping Hercules’ leash as you turned your head and grabbed your mom’s attention. “Did you tell me who you're meeting for coffee?”

“No, I don’t know if I did,” she replied with a shrug. “Last month an old classmate of mine from college reached out to check in, see how life is, how work is going. When I told her I was coming to the city, she insisted we grab a coffee if time permitted.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, proceeding across the street and turning down toward the cafe.

“What?” Your mom let out an excited greeting as she pointed ahead on the street and waved. “There's Sarah!” You both looked ahead and sitting outside the cafe was your mom’s college classmate Sarah Rogers and, well, her son Steve.

“Well, remember how I just said I might show you a picture of the mystery guy? Turns out you do get to meet him..” You recalled what Steve had told you when you had talked the day before, that he was busy with work and was having breakfast with his mom and when you approached them, exchanging hellos and hugs, you met his eyes with a coy smile.

“I swear I didn’t put two and two together until this morning,” he said quietly as you broke from your hug.

“What a small world!” Your mother exclaimed, gratefully telling Steve her preferred coffee order as he excused himself inside to get the drinks. “What are the chances?”

“This is all because of your lovely daughter,” Sarah offered you a smile and reached across the table to grab your hand. “Did she tell you how she saved my Steve’s life?”

“What? No, she has been quite tight-lipped about all of this, actually.”

You really wanted to jump in and stop the whole thing from unraveling, but you knew there wasn’t a chance in hell you could stop two proud mothers from doting over their children.

When Steve came back outside, he handed off a coffee to your mother and your preferred beverage to you, then politely suggested leaving your mothers to catch up. You were quick to agree, telling your own mom she could message you later when she’s back at your apartment.

Steve grabbed Hercules’ leash and you all headed for a walk to a nearby park, instead.

“Was it too soon to introduce you to my mom?” You nudged him with your elbow, garnering a laugh from him.

“Sweetheart, you met my mom twenty minutes after meeting me. I think it’s okay.”

Steve’s gallery wasn’t very large but still felt impressive, not that you had much experience when it came to art. But the walls were covered in beautiful canvases with incredulous price tags, you had a hard time even breathing near some of the pieces.

When Steve had first invited you to accompany him to an event at the gallery, you had been nervous. And when you realized it was a private fundraising party for a mayoral candidate, packed full of expensive suits and names you recognized from news media and social scenes in the city, your nerves had escalated to near panic.

Luckily, Steve had insisted you invite a friend and Wanda had been more than willing to be your safety for the evening. Wanda had been especially excited to be the first of your friends to meet Steve, too. And you were grateful to have her at your side, considering you had barely seen Steve since you had arrived with him earlier.

Although maybe it was better this way, because you both really needed to cool off. When you made it to Steve’s apartment earlier, full of apologies for running late, you worried you’d upset him by your tardiness. But the moment you stepped through his door in your sparkling cocktail dress, which flattered you in the exact way that made you feel sexy, it seemed all your concerns about Steve’s reaction had disappeared.

And when he fell to his knees and shoved your dress out of his way, you knew being late was not an issue. Steve made sure you knew exactly how he felt about your dress and your body, very thoroughly.

“What are we looking for?” Wanda tipped her head to the side, grabbing your hand and sliding through the crowd to stop in front of another canvas. She raised her glass and took a sip from her cocktail, letting out a slow exhale.

“Steve told me that somewhere in here is a painting of his..” You trailed off, craning your neck to look for him in the crowd. You were trying not to feel weird about this whole thing - the room full of beautiful, powerful people talking to your man.

Your man. Well, Steve wasn’t yours. Not really. You still hadn’t discussed all that but you knew you were sort of exclusive, or at least he wasn’t dating anyone else. But who was that blonde woman talking to him?

“Oh my god. Is that Tony Stark?”

All your thoughts came to a halt when you followed Wanda’s wide eyes. Yes, that was Tony Stark and did he just–

“Oh my god. He just hugged Steve? Your boyfriend knows Tony Stark?”

You shook away Wanda’s hand as she grabbed your wrist. “Steve isn’t my..” It wasn’t long before Steve caught your eye, noticing both you and Wanda staring from across the crowd. You watched as he ducked his head and whispered something to Sam, who had been flanking his right side.

Moments later, Sam was heading towards you and Wanda.

“Hey - there’s someone Steve wants you to meet,” Sam said, motioning his hand back towards the center of the room.

You knew this whole event was important to Steve, given the sheer volume of donations rolling in for James Rhodes and how his campaign was already stirring up news headlines. You hadn’t seen this side of Steve before, the work mode where business related things were of the utmost importance.

Honestly, you were still actively ignoring the mystery that was Steve’s job. Guns, hushed conversations, late night work meetings - none of those added up to anything particularly savoury. It was better to remain ignorant, if a little naive. Just a little while longer…

“And why can’t Steve summon us himself?” Wanda giggled, proudly placing a hand on her hip as she finished off her cocktail.

You smirked. “That’s a great point.”

Sam just laughed and lifted his hands, innocent despite his task at hand. “The man is busy kissing ass. Don’t kill the messenger.”

You let out a dramatic sigh and pointed ahead. “Fine. Lead the way, Sam.”

You grabbed Wanda’s hand, following Sam through the crowd of people until you met up with Steve and his circle. Very quickly one of the servers came to replenish your drink as you slotted yourself at Steve’s side, rising to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. You paused near his ear. “Hi. For future reference, I don’t want to be collected by some minion, okay?”

You returned to your feet and Steve’s hand cradled your back, eyebrows twisted as he searched your face. He looked worried and you were grateful for it. You waved your hand, dismissing the whole thing and mouthing to him that it was okay.

“I’m sorry,” he returned quietly. You squeezed his hand and remained under his arm, happily shaking hands with Tony Stark and a handful of others as Steve introduced you.

It made you melt - how happy he was to include you, boast about you, have you at his side. Although it was a bit intimidating to suddenly be on first name basis with both the DA and tech mogul Tony Stark, you soon realized that they were just people and it seemed one of their favourite past times was poking fun at Steve.

Most importantly, to your surprise, Wanda had very quickly found herself lost in conversation with someone from Stark’s circle. You had missed his job title, but his nickname Vision had stuck out to you immediately. And it seemed his philosophical viewpoint and natural energy had Wanda laughing and arguing with him very quickly.

Later, as the crowd dispersed around your group, Steve took you by the hand and steered you back towards the rows of canvases and frames on display. The whole gallery had an energy that reminded you of Steve - with exposed brick sections from the original warehouse structure, with updated lighting and flooring to match. Something that felt both vintage and up to date, classic Brooklyn with a twist of something new.

You stopped in front of a vibrant floral piece, tipping your head slightly to analyze the strokes and colours. There was something about it that felt familiar, like your mom’s garden at home.

“I like this one,” you uttered out quietly, as Steve slotted himself behind you. He extended his hand around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

“You can have it, if you want.”

“Steve.”

“It would look very good above your couch,” he insisted. “I know the guy who owns the place, he’ll give you a good deal.”

You just laughed and turned around in his arms, capturing his lips in a quick kiss as you met his eyes.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he continued, leaving his hand to rest at the small of your back while the other momentarily cradled your cheek.

“It’s fine,” you said with a small smile. “I just.. I don’t know how things operate in your work life, but I’m not part of that. So I think we should just communicate directly, okay? No fetching by colleagues.”

“You know, the minute Sam walked away from me - my gut feeling said it was the wrong call.”

“You’ve gotta follow your instincts, Rogers,” you laughed and fell forward into his embrace. “I’ll forgive you for it this time, though.”

Steve’s hands trailed up your arms slowly, moving to cradle your cheeks again as he delivered another kiss to your lips. “Gonna come to the club with us after this wraps up?”

You tipped your head as if deep in thought, tugging his hands away and holding them between your chests. “What does a night at the club look like for you?”

“Nothing too raucous anymore. I try to keep a level head since taking ownership,” he responded. “It’s just a carry on of all the strategic conversations and networking garbage. Lots of drinks will be flowing though. Or anything else you might want?”

You could sense he was trying to ask a bigger question so you shook your head. “Nothing but drinks for me usually. Will there be champagne?”

“If that’s what you want - I can get you a champagne fountain, baby.”

“A bottle would be fine,” you said with a giggle, sliding your hands under his suit jacket. “You’ll dance with me?”

“I don’t really dance but I can find us a nice dark corner to hide in. Show you my office..”

Once the event had died down, everyone seemed to be piling into SUVs waiting outside to head to Shield for the rest of the night. You hadn’t been out to any club in a while and were sort of looking forward to it, mostly because you had a feeling you wouldn’t have to wait in line to get in or wait for a drink for the rest of the night either.

In fact, when you got to the club, it only took four steps from the vehicle to get you inside, with Steve’s hand at your back leading you in. Immediately a security guard ushered you all upstairs to a roped off area that looked down on the rest of the dance floor.

Once you were beyond the velvet ropes, you realized the wild exclusivity of the area. Already, bottles of liquor sat in ice buckets, a set of waitresses appeared with more drinks and as more of the group piled in, you had a feeling this wasn’t a place where just excessive drinking occurred.

You dropped down onto one of the lush couches with Wanda, happily taking a bubbling glass of champagne that was offered to you from a bottle Steve had popped.

You clinked your glass with Wanda’s and scanned the area. On the opposite couch, Nat was knocking back shots with Bucky and to their side, it seemed no time was wasted when it came to the beyond drinking activities. Sam, a blonde woman you hadn’t met yet and a large football player of a man were portioning lines of coke - and even asking if anyone wanted in for their next round.

“What about you, lady friend of Steve?” The large man met your curious gaze, though you were very quick to shake your head. “I can get you anything you’d like.”

“No thanks,” you waved dismissively, finishing off your champagne before getting to your feet. “Wan? Should we dance?”

You weren’t that closed minded when it came to places like this, given what you already knew about Steve. In fact, he had even told you about what nights at the club usually looked like for him. He had told you that years ago, he’d party all night with no memory of what he had been doing. Now? He stuck to business conversations, liquor and the occasional cigar. You had a feeling the rest of his crew could be a bit more rowdy though.

But damn, you hadn’t seen people so effortlessly snorting drugs in a long time. Since some outrageous college parties, probably.

“Oh, me too, me too I want to dance. Nat jumped up from her seat and grabbed your hand, weaving through the array of suits standing around talking. “Stevie - I’m taking your girl downstairs.”

Steve gave a raised eyebrow look as you passed him by, not before you paused to press a kiss against his cheek. “I’ll be okay.”

“She’ll be fine! She’s in good hands!”

The first thing Nat did when you got back to the lower level was steer both you and Wanda towards the bar. Immediately a bartender took notice of you and had drinks ready. You gave a small wave to Kate and Yelena, who were both managing bar logistics far from where you were standing and you quickly tipped back whatever Nat had offered you without question.

“That was a test!” Nat shouted in your ear, grinning at both you and Wanda as you recoiled from the vodka. “You're both tough, I like it.”

You shouted back, slamming down your glass on the barside. “Are we dancing or what?”

The dance floor at Shield was huge and the playlist wasn’t half bad either. Normally, a hot sticky night of dancing at this sort of bar wasn’t your ideal but the liquid courage and electricity from Nat and Wanda definitely helped set the mood.

You were having fun.

God knows how many songs had blasted through your ears before you felt warmth at your back and a familiar arm snaking around you.

“Baby..” Steve whispered against the shell of your ear, pressing himself against you. All of himself, even. “I wanna show you my office.”

“Dance with me,” you shifted against him, throwing your arms around your neck as you looked up to meet his eyes. “God, you’re hot.”

He grinned and pulled you even closer, swaying his hips slowly against yours. “I told you I don’t dance, sweetheart. Come on..”

You had a feeling Steve didn’t really want to show you his office. Okay, well maybe he did.

Very specifically he only wanted to show you the couch in his office.

“You sober enough to make good decisions, sweetheart?”

A flurry of hands and lips and steps landed you on his couch, then he promptly had you perched on the side of it, gripping the armrest with your ass in the air, with a perfect view of yourselves in the reflection of a mirror propped up behind the door.

“Holy shit, baby.” Steve was practically growling as he gripped your hips, thrusting into you with an unexpected urgency. He hadn’t even bothered letting you take your dress off, simply pushing up your skirt and tugging your underwear to the side before he slid in. “You’re so wet for me.”

“Steve, fuck.” You fisted the fabric of the couch as he slowed down, immediately chasing his pace as you backed up into him.

“Yeah, take what you need, sweetheart.”

You had insisted he forgo the condom this time, trusting both your birth control and your exclusivity discussion to keep you both safe. And well, you had told him to up the ante a bit too - a little harder, a little faster. And fuck if that didn’t make him feel even better this time.

“Come for me, come on my cock. I want to feel you..” He doubled down as you started to shake, pressing you down against the cushions as he sped up. “Seeing you down there on the dancefloor, you looked incredible - so fucking sexy – my girl. All mine.”

It didn’t surprise you when he pulled out and spilled against your ass. You hated to admit how much you liked it, the idea of him marking you up because shit, all this talk about being his, behind Steve’s girl? It was sending you to another universe entirely.

“Sweetheart, you okay? That wasn’t too much?” You had collapsed onto the couch, catching your breath as Steve cleaned up, quickly pulling his boxers up and buckling his belt again. He crouched down beside you, brushing a hand across your forehead. “You with me?”

“Yes, just coming back down to earth.” You laid your head down on the pillow and smiled. “That was… very enjoyable. Loved getting to see your office, great couch.”

He cradled your cheek and kissed you, hard. “I think I want to show you the desk next.”

Steve thought he was ending his night by crawling into bed with you. Thelast few weeks following the event at the gallery had left him busier than he anticipated and when you both finally coordinated a date night, you deserved his full attention.

And, well, he had given it to you. From walking around the botanical gardens to dinner at one of his favourite restaurants to fooling around on the drive back to his place, Steve had more than indulged in you. Now, after another sweaty romp back at his place plus more action in the shower, the last thing he needed was Bucky calling him in the middle of the night.

“What?” Steve practically barked under his breath, carefully removing himself from the sheets and stepping out of the darkness of his bedroom. “Didn’t I tell you I was on do not disturb tonight, Buck?”

“Special circumstances. Castle is holding some idiot who made a scene at their warehouse, stirring shit about boundary lines.”

“And?”

“You told Russo you wanted to know when Rumlow left his mark again - it was one of his guys.”

Steve gritted his teeth, weighing his options. He knew what he needed to do and unfortunately even your sleeping body warming his bed didn’t stop him from following through with his own rules. Brooklyn was his territory and he couldn’t have anyone else making a mess of that. “Can the guy still talk?”

Bucky laughed. “Barely. He’s in good spirits apparently - especially mouthy, says Castle. I’m downstairs, let’s go.”

A heavy sigh escaped Steve, from the depths of his chest. He knew what he needed to do, but damnit, his heart and soul were resisting. Why did this entire thing feel like a test?

“I’ll be down in five.”

Steve did his best to remain quiet as he got dressed again, stepping out of his closet to see you stirring in bed. His bed. God, there you were in his bed, resting, beautiful.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I’m leaving Hercules in charge.” Steve looked briefly to your sleeping pup who was curled up in a new dog bed in the corner. “I’ll be back soon.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, trying not to shudder as you grabbed his hip.

Through a muffled yawn, you let go and fell back into the pillow. “Be safe, okay?”

Steve left one more kiss on your forehead and headed towards the door, leaving you safely tucked away at home as he ventured into the darkness of the city.

CHAPTER 03 - CHAPTER 05

Thank you for reading!! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Up next: what makes a good person? What happens when business mixes with pleasure?

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #mob boss steve rogers #steve x reader #plus size reader #steve rogers fanfiction #story: sink into me #simmerandwrite #simmerandcry

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dreamingsnowflake2013 · 1 year

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The team of My Beautiful Man has done it again and delivered another sublime season of Hira and Kiyo’s love story. It all comes down to the fact that even after 3 years Hira is still Hira and Kiyoi is still Kiyoi and the show, despite its short running time, is wonderful at showing that personalities are deeply ingrained and not something that changes overnight or over a course of a few months. They have both made baby steps over the years at overcoming their shortcomings, Kiyoi has become more daring, trying hard to curb his own shyness and the resulting arrogant and cold behaviour, while Hira has dared to come out of his shell a little bit more, even his stammer has reduced, proving that they are indeed good for each other despite their flaws and insecurities. However, Hira’s tendency of self-loathing and inferiority complex is something he’s had for 20+ years and is an inherent part of him, it’s not something that would just miraculously disappear with the power of love. And My Beautiful Man portrays this painstakingly slow process and journey to change in a very realistic and authentic way.

The beautiful thing is that Kiyoi doesn't even want Hira to change, he loves him the way he is which is really what the first episode was all about, that he sees past Hira’s awkwardness and sees how gorgeous Hira truly is, appreciates him and adores everything about him.

He just wants to be loved by him, only by him, he is fine being worshipped by everyone else, and even though that worship had been what made him attracted to Hira, for a long time now, he has wanted to be Hira’s equal, giving Hira the time and space to slowly gain the confidence while he was trying to make himself more emotionally available and became softer so Hira would feel more comfortable with him. He’s been hoping for it with every fibre of his being for years and witnessing all his hopes dashed literally shatters him.

The confrontation scene in episode three is really a direct parallel to the emotional argument in season 1, two scenes which set up the climax of each season. All those little disappointments Kiyoi has been bottling up over time come to a breaking point.

It hurts even more because he's had expectations, the hope when Hira mentions he hated calling him ‘his friend’ lits up his whole face, expecting to finally get to hear from Hira what he's always desired and craved for so long, a love confession where he would admit them being lovers, equals, only to be disappointed and feeling gut-wrenching pain as the result.

He swallows it at first despite the excruciating pain, like he must have done many times before, but Hira denying him to be part of his life, cutting him away from his parents, who Hira obviously loves in his own weird way judging from his story about the shrimp croquettes, which Kiyoi knows, it truly breaks him his heart, revealing that HE DOESN’T WANT TO MERELY BE HIRA’S LOVER, HE WANTS TO BE HIS FAMILY; something enduring and lasting, something eternal, wishing to gain what he had lost as a child and was robbed of when his mother found a new family and neglected him.

He wants to by tied to Hira for life because whether you like ir not, family ties are unbreakable connections. He’s being seeking it for most of his life but Hira’s words make him realise Hira has been denying him that very thing and there is a part of Hira’s life he can’t be a part of; he feels sheer horror and heartache when he finds him he is still on the pedestal, stuck on the very same place where Hira had placed him 5 years ago and which he hates so much. Not a lover, not a spouse, not family member, only an untouchable rock, but rocks don’t have a heart to break nor do they weep like a willow when it’s shattering.

And yet despite his words, in a beautifully symbolic gesture, Hira tries to touch his star and tries to wipe away his tears only for him to push him away now.

Finally, the director of My Beautiful Man is truly awesome at portraying all these emotionally-charged scenes and making them 100% authentic, it’s unreal how raw, intense and realistic everything feels, almost like a documentary where the audience is allowed a voyeuristic peek at a couple’s most intimate moments.

There is no distracting music to destroy the moment, which is where most of Thai BL dramas usually fail and ruin the scene, here, the director lets the script and the actors do the talking and the result is simply beautiful.

#my beautiful man #utsukushii kare #yagi yusei #hagiwara riku #jdrama

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tarotbubbletea · 6 months

Text

🍂 PAC Reading: Catharsis 🍂

Hey everyone!

October 2023 was a SHIT month for me. That eclipse season took a major toll on my mental and physical health. I hope you all had an easier time, and if you didn't, trust that you're not alone and I send you all the love you may need at this time 💛

Here's a spread I attempted from Lightwands tarot's Tiktok page on helping with catharsis, ie., helping you pin down and let go of some negative thoughts that may have been living in your head rent-free.

I intend this to be a timeless reading. Take a deep breath and clear your mind. Then pick the picture that you feel most drawn to. If you feel drawn to more than one, feel free to read those piles. If you feel drawn to none, perhaps I don't have a message for you at this time, but hope to have something for you in the future!

Going from left to right, we have piles 1, 2, and 3.

I'd love to hear some feedback! I'm also open for paid personal readings ($3 flat-rate).

Pictures used are not mine.

My kofi ☕

Pile 1

A pressing thought on your mind: King of Cups

Okay this is definitely about a boy. You may be overthinking/obsessing over a connection right now. Perhaps you have this person up on a pedestal and you think they're the best romantic match you could possibly ever have and that being chosen by them would be the best thing to ever happen to you. And maybe that's true. But you have to remind yourself that if you're begging to be chosen, that takes away significantly from your power, and most stable, secure men will want someone that matches them in their power. Some of you may be thinking that this guy has 2 options they're struggling between. For some of you, this may be an ex that you're seeing move on and, frankly, it hurts. If that's the case, I feel you.

Allow the tarot deck to describe the thought back to you in a softer voice: The Emperor

I think you need to remember that there is a bit of logic to relationships as well. Love isn't enough; you do have to think about the kind of life that's possible with your potential partner. You also need to remember that people feel and use their emotions differently than you. Your person may be at a stage where they're approaching partnership more logically. They may be thinking of compatibility in a more mature way at this point. This is a shift that started quite prominently during the pandemic, with casual dating taking a dip in our society. This person may also just be quite exhausted and have decided to just settle down. Love, at some stage, becomes more of a decision than a feeling, and that's where this person is right now. Remember that this is a window into their thought processes, not a judgement on you.

How you're approaching the thought: Justice

You may be self-flagellating a bit, thinking that the reason you're having such a hard time in love and life is because of some of your past mistakes or some karmic debt. And maybe this is true, because we all have karmic debt from this life and from the ones before. Every single person you know has made errors, and more people than you think have skeletons in their closets. We're all a little toxic. It's just the reality of life. And that's okay. That's life (tangent: watch Fleabag!) Maybe it's a little less serious for you and you feel like you're just not enough, or that you just messed up your chance with this person. But ask yourself as objectively as possible, did you? Did you, really? Doesn't this guy have flaws too? Is it possible that neither you nor him are the issue here, but it's really just the relationship/situationship that may not have been a good fit? Maybe you both just weren't mature enough for each other at the time? Maybe it was meant to be temporary? Maybe there were external factors at play? But more importantly, maybe it's not your problem to solve?

How can you release the thought without needing to resolve it right now: Queen of Swords

Step into your power. Get some fresh air. Literally. You've closed yourself in a box. You need to step out and realize how vast the sky really is. How big the world really is. How big your world really is. There needs to be perspective change for you. And you don't need to do this alone. We need community more than ever now. Find a therapist, a trusted friend, maybe even a sibling that keeps it real with you and is genuine. You don't need to find the love of your life, or figure out what this person means for you, if they're a karmic/twin flame/soulmate/what have you right this minute. You don't. Trust me, you don't. Do you want to get asked out/married this very minute? Of course not. It really isn't woo-woo nonsense when people say that what's meant to be, will be. Think of all the times you wanted a situation to play out a certain way and it didn't. It probably worked out better, if you're being honest with yourself. Let go. Let the Universe do what it needs to do. Maybe this will help: The Universe put you in this situation, so let it sort it out. This is the Universe's problem now. You're just the actor. It's the show writers that need to sort this out now. Just vibe in the meantime lol.

Let the thought say one last goodbye: 9 of Swords

Your pain is not for nothing. This will be different for different people, but maybe the pain is to ground you. Maybe it's to prevent you from self-sabotaging in the future. Maybe it's to get you to see the reality of this person. Maybe it's to get you to see the reality of yourself. Maybe this is how you repay some karmic debt (in which case, yay! Lighter times ahead!) Maybe this is a sign you may have some unresolved trauma that needs to be removed from your mind and body, and is to show you that you're closing in on a breaking down point and need to love yourself enough to tend to it. Maybe it's bits and pieces of everything mentioned above. Maybe it's just none of these, and you're letting seasonal depression get the best of you. Believe it or not, sadness is vital in life. It's a necessary emotion. If you feel the need to wallow, by all means go ahead. And when it's time, let yourself stop. It's okay. You're okay. And it'll all be okay. You are worthy of love.

Oracles: Patience; Bring love into the situation (New Moon in Aquarius)

Work on detaching yourself from this situation. Your specific/personal situation will come from thinking outside the box. Be more pragmatic. Improve your karma by doing charitable work.

Pile 2

A pressing thought on your mind: The Lovers (and The Hermit for clarification)

Alright, so this pile is also thinking about love. But you guys have a lighter energy than Pile 1. Or maybe you're a Pile 1 coming back to this reading after some time. You've probably been single for a while, and have done some extensive soul-searching and inner work, and now perhaps an inner voice is telling you that you're ready to put yourself out there again. And the energy coming through is yes! Yes, you are ready! But since it's been a while, and given the state of the streets, you're apprehensive about how to put yourself out there, and if you even should yet. Some of you may even be thinking of those Tiktoks that tell you how awful partners (particularly men) can be, and you're (rightfully) a bit scared.

Allow the tarot deck to describe the thought back to you in a softer voice: 8 of Pentacles

You've been hard at work with your personal growth and self-concept, and it radiates in your aura now. You've been diligent and have paid attention to the details. There's no such thing as a perfect person, of course, but you've done commendable work to get to as perfect as you can be in this stage of your life. Look at you go, you little rock-star! You need to watch out for black-and-white thinking, both directed at your own self and at others. Just because there may be a few things you're still working on, doesn't mean you're not ready. And the same goes for people you may meet soon, or for those that you're already considering. In fact, it shows self-awareness that you/the other person is cognizant of their flaws and still putting themselves out there because not all healing occurs inside. We all need people, and that's not a flaw. It's okay to be apprehensive. Be aware of the risks but don't let them consume you.

How you're approaching the thought: The High Priestess

You may be scouring Tumblr or Tiktok or wherever for readings and signs to foresee who you need to engage with next, what signs to look for, how it's all going to play out. It's like you want a blueprint of the entire love story beforehand because you're determined to find the one next. No more games for you. No more delays. You're ready and you want your future now. Love that for you, queen! But don't let it overconsume you! Micromanaging your love life isn't the best way to go about it. You know this, c'mon!

How you can release the thought without needing to resolve it right now: The Magician

Manifestation is real. But it's real for everyone, not just you. Imagine you're driving and you're manifesting going right, but so is another person, and fate may look at this and decide, okay, one of these needs to detour to avoid a collision, and maybe it picks you? Shit example, but I hope you get what I'm saying. It's good to be specific in your manifestations but not too specific, you know? Think of the burnt toast theory. Most of them there's a reason behind why things happen the way they do. Sometimes it's an important reason, and sometimes it's just random and meaningless. You seem to be approaching dating in a very Virgo-like way at this time, and essentially the message here is to not be too calculating and strategic. Keep your wits and lessons with you, of course, but don't forget that the Universe is also a player here.

Let the thought say one last goodbye: Ace of Pentacles

Your future partner is going to come to you like a gift or an offering. For some of you, that's where the delay is - the Universe is packaging them up perfectly for you and you just need to wait until it's time lol. The Universe and your spirit guides have been hard at work helping you heal and polish and be ready for love, and they're not going to just give you out to a random, okay? Have faith. Express gratitude constantly. And just affirm that love is here and your steps are guided. Dating apps may be the way for some of you. One or two of you may have luck bumping into someone at work or at the gym. Also hearing a beloved bar for someone. But for the majority, it's a highly personalized way that you'll meet the one. Ultimately, though, don't think too hard about it.

Oracles: Purification; Confidence is your key to success (New Moon in Leo)

There you have it. You've been purified enough to put yourself out there again. You're ready. Whether this be through apps, networking, or just living your life, do it with confidence and carry the intention with you to find your best match without chasing.

Pile 3

A pressing thought on your mind: Queen of Pentacles

This pile's conundrum seems to be family dynamics. Maybe you're in a sticky situation at home, where you can't afford to move out and you've either outgrown your home environment, or it's getting toxic. But you may not have the funds/resources to leave. And you feel like you're being smothered but you also would feel guilty if you were to leave. For some, you may not need to leave but you feel like there's undue pressure coming from your family whenever you go to make decisions, be it financial, education-related, relationship-related, or what have you. Getting heavy 'eldest child of immigrant parents' energy here. Maybe you don't feel your age because you feel like you don't have the freedom and independence you'd assumed you would have at this point. Some of you were even parentified as kids and it's starting to come to the fore-front. For some, this extends to friends and you feel like you've outgrown them, or just need more friends, but again, you're in a box.

Allow the tarot deck to describe the thought back to you in a softer voice: Knight of Cups

Some of you may daydream of a Prince Charming coming and saving you from this environment. This is especially true if the 'eldest daughter' thing applies to you and one of the only acceptable ways in your family for you moving out and starting your own life is to get married. And maybe that is what will happen for some of you. But don't depend on it as the only way. It will happen if it's meant to happen, but when we attached too much stake to one specific outcome, we pour too much of our power into it, and the Universe doesn't like that. It's okay to pray and manifest a particular outcome but detachment is a key factor in manifestation, remember that. One of the easiest ways out of this energy is just getting your license and a car, you know? You don't have to wait for a ride, you can be the driver. Even getting a pet is a good way to get out of the house more (plus, that would divert your family's attention and ease the tensions around the house).

How you're approaching the thought: 3 of Pentacles

You probably vent to your friends or siblings a lot. You prioritize working (maybe even working overtime) and saving up money. You might also be pursuing higher ed to better your career. It's definitely a good step! Just be aware of your social and personal needs and realize that there's multiple gardens within you that need watering. If the immigrant thing resonates with you, this is especially important. Do not let work and money consume you because hard work, as sad as it is to say, does not always lead you to where you need to go. You need to be a whole person, not just a worker. Think about it, how logical is it to water your 'money' garden and expect your 'personal' garden to bloom if you don't tend to it as much? Don't let burnout ruin your senses.

How you can release the thought without needing to resolve it right now: The Fool

It's your first time being you. And it's also your parents' first time being them. Be as empathetic and compassionate as you can be with yourself and your family without self-sacrificing. There's internal knowledge you came here with that you can access through meditation. Reconnect with your inner voice and let it help you. Don't hold on to resentments, whether internal or external. Don't be so hard on yourself, and when faced with arguments at home, try to separate the actions from the doer. Everyone has their own traumas and vices that they unintentionally hand over control to. Don't rush things. Make an inner sanctuary for yourself and believe that things will work out. The dog/pet message is coming through again lol so if that's a possibility, please go for it! And whenever you feel helpless, remind yourself that you're not supposed to have all the answers just yet. Most successful people, when asked, say the same. They had the vision and they had the grit, but they didn't always have all the steps laid out and blind confidence.

Let the thought say one last goodbye: 4 of Wands

Everything will work out. Trust. Please, just trust. For those of you that resonated with the Prince Charming message, this is confirmation that that will happen. You'll meet the man of your dreams, and leave your current surroundings for the home and life for your dreams. This isn't meant to push you to place all your faith into a savior coming, thus disempowering you, but this message should push you to instead hold on to your power, and keep tending to all your gardens equally in the meantime. You've been through a lot, and it wouldn't be fair to the old versions of you that lead you here to give up now. It gets steeper the higher you go on a mountain. But at this point, you're also stronger. Believe that. It's a marathon, not a sprint.

Oracles: Courage; Your hard work is paying off (New Moon in Capricorn)

Don't be too controlling, and limit your exposure to anyone who is too controlling. Stay ambitious and courageous. Recognize and reward yourself for all the hard work you've done. See yourself as a person and not a project. Your life may not have been a fairy tale, but your fairy tale moment is coming.

I hope you found a message here today! And if not, I hope to have a message for you next time. Wishing you all love, light, and success! ❤️

Don't forget to leave feedback if your reading resonated in any capacity.

My kofi ☕ (for tips and $3 flat-rate readings)

#tarotblr #tarot #tarot readings #pj speaks #pick a card #pick a pile reading #pick a card readings #pick a pile readings #PAC #tarot PAC #tarot community #pick a pile #oracle readings

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dairy-farmer · 5 months

Note

Bruce posting some sappy lovey birthday post on what he assumes is the personal, family only Instagram account about how he doesn’t know what he’d do without Tim, the love of his life, how he makes him a better person, with pics of them on holiday, them kissing, them waking up in bed together, Tim naked and coming out of the shower, etc, and also saying that he’s so glad that he’s been able to spend the past four years with his soul mate

Turns out no, it wasn’t his private account with only the family who know about this seeing it, it was public, and now there’s a giant shit storm WE has to sort out?

yessssss!!!! tim and bruce's relationship changes him. he's always been this hard, difficult, stubborn as a goat man. but tim is good for him. he makes bruce...sappy. he makes bruce softer, calmer. he sands away all the prickly parts of bruce that always end up hurting his friends and family. and at first it's not inappropriate. at first the connection and spark between them is just a really amazing partnership where bruce finds himself opening up more because for the first time in his life he feels like someone understands him. someone treats him kindly and speaks to him softly just like how when he was a kid and that eternal child inside him is just so desperate for kind, warm hands to handle him. tim never lets bruce get away with his attitude, if bruce is being rude or mean to him or someone else tim immediately scolds him for it. and after awhile...their closeness just develops into more.

the rest of the family knows. because the rest of the family are around to see the changes in bruce. the way he eases, how he doesn't drag out arguments as much, how the furrow between his brows isn't as deep, how he's much...calmer. he doesn't snap at them anymore, he doesn't makes baseless accusations or try to spy on them for their "own good".

both jason and dick tell tim about how an invisible weight feels like its been lifted from their shoulders now that bruce's expectant gaze isn't on them anymore. tim says he can't take all the credit. the counselors and therapy did a lot of the legwork, tim had just been the one who convinced bruce to go, helping him figure out the right style of therapy and the right person to help him work out the scrambled bits of his mind.

damian is doing much better. as bruce improves so does he. he's not as cagey or suspicious. he's more open to connecting with his brothers. he doesn't feel as under immense pressue from bruce. he's able to understand jokes to not be jabs against him and eases into interacting with dick and jason. he's performing better in school, alfred hasn't gotten a call for his behavior in months.

bruce and tim being together works. bruce is happier and better for it and the family is happier and better too.

but they don't publish it.

bruce doesn't tell colleagues, allies, or friends about him and tim. when they make jokes about him finally pulling the stick out of his ass because of his more "reasonable" demeanor bruce lets the jokes roll off his back. he's not so defensive anymore, nursing hurt or annoyance over normal jokes friends make to each other. bruce is finally able to...enjoy the companionship of others.

jason, dick, and damian don't tell their friends or other capes. not only is it none of their business but it also...it looks bad.

maybe in some...or rather, most cases a relationship between someone like tim and bruce would be a problem. it would be something drenched in predation and victimization. it would be something made of manipulation and sick desire. and maybe all of those relationships also insist that they're 'different'.

but bruce and tim really are different.

tim is young. and maybe he was too young when the...adult stuff started. maybe dick, jason, and alfred chose to ignore that because it did make them the slightest bit queasy. but tim and bruce were quite honestly...soulmates.

it's cheesy to say they're a match made in heaven but they are.

maybe it takes the family a little while to get used to the kisses, the closeness, the way tim retreats to bruce's bedroom (their bedroom) every night.

but they do. and after years it just becomes normal.

there are some rough patches though.

bruce enters a brief period of unease and waspish behavior but eventually they figure out that its a result of bruce being unable to do any of his past behaviors with tim that he did with other partners. going out to dinner, going on dates to the opera, being photographed together and the next day having every newspaper talk about what bruce wayne and his newest girlfriend or date wore and what they did.

bruce and tim do go out to dinner and to the opera. but the next day all the papers are about bruce wayne and his "son" out on an outing together.

obviously, bruce can't kiss tim out in public like he does in the manor and having those papers assault his eyes make his inability to be with tim in the wider world so much...harder.

logically, bruce knows that the world can't know he and tim are together and romantically involved. he knows that he was already asking to much with his family being okay with it. even when tim turns 18 they likely can't come out publicly because legally, tim was still his son.

it's hard. but eventually a therapist proposes a solution. something to grant the illusion of a public relationship. social media is ripe with people talking about their relationships, documenting it with pictures and informing millions of strangers about their private lives. some social media offer the option of 'privately posting' so that only a select few people can view something.

it's just a suggestion. they propose that bruce try it. for one week to post about tim and himself like the whole world is in on their life.

bruce is hesitant. he doesn't fully trust social media. he feels like its tempting fate.

but he tries. after he and tim go out to the movies together bruce posts a picture of tim's cheeks stuffed full of popcorn like a chipmunk because he just looks far too adorable.

it's just dick, alfred, jason, and damian who can view the photos on bruce's private posts. he sees their hearts, sees dick's comments and...it makes him feel normal.

steadily, bruce does it more. sharing photos of tim.

even when he doesn't post them he finds himself taking more and more photos of tim when the lighting catches his eyelashes just right, when he wears an outfit bruce likes, when they're out on a walk together and tim picks some wildflowers to put into a vase. bruce even takes some more intimate photos of tim. of him in his underwear, in a bathing suit on the shores of capri, of him naked with sheets draped over him and drooling.

bruce shares those sometimes. tim doesn't mind his brothers seeing pictures of him naked and sunbathing on the family yacht from when bruce took a mental health week off and took tim with him to go boating.

a few years ago the family would've been awkward about it, but now they were closer than they have ever been and so them seeing bruce's pictures of tim isn't so strange anymore because bruce shares them out of love.

it's tim's birthday and the whole family has gone out to celebrate. bruce has had an extra glass of wine because he's just so happy to spend another year with tim. so he's a little tipsy, a little sentimental, his stomach is full of cheesecake, chocolate-covered strawberries, and rich steak. he's lighthearted and happy being surrounded by his family and the love of his life.

bruce goes to the bathroom and while trying to sober up and starts typing up a birthday post like the ones he's seen coworkers and other people do before. he selects his favorite photos of tim especially the ones of them on vacation and one of tim in a steamy bathroom drying his hair while his pretty tits were visible through the mirror. bruce lingers on the photos of him hugging tim and pressing kisses to his sweet cheek while tim giggled. he types out a sappy message that will probably lead to him getting ribbed by his children at the breakfast table. but bruce is in love and he's never been able to do something like this. gush about someone the way he can tim.

so he makes it sappy, talking about how happy tim makes him and how he doesn't know who or where he'd be without him. its the first time bruce has...exposed so much of himself before. he posts it and returns to the table where tim is humming around a mouthful of cake. bruce wants to kiss him but they're in public and he's not THAT drunk so he settles for nuzzling tim and holding him close until they're retired to the manor.

bruce's soft bed and many pillows cushion his vigilante-worn back while his hands hold onto tim's hips as he fucks him. tim gasps over him, throwing his head back in a drawn out moan while roughly riding him, slamming his hot little pussy down on bruce's aching cock. bruce is a little hazy from the wine but still alert enough to thrust his hips up, wonderfully timing it with tim so he can sink in so gut-punchingly deep. tim loves this so much, he loves telling bruce about how he loves the feeling of him inside him of how he loves bruce's hands on him. most especially he loves bruce cumming deep inside him and dripping out on the bedsheets while they cuddle and makeout like a couple of teenagers. god, tim makes him feel so young. like nothing could touch him.

but then morning comes and bruce's wine headache and sleep crusted eyes have him groaning as he fumbles for his vibrating cellphone on the nightstand.

he blinks a bit to clear the blurriness and sees the influx of emails, missed calls, and texts that are streaming in. bruce grows more alert and concerned as he props himself up. tim is curled around him and bruce strokes his naked side as his phone rings with another call. he recognizes the number as mallory smith, the current head of HR at W.E and to be called so early on his personal phone on a saturday morning? oh how that does not spell good things.

bruce has done this before. gotten dragged into a meeting for some stunt he pulled like flashing photographers or letting his sextape get leaked. but bruce hasn't done anything to warrant this reaction in a longtime. he's been good!

but then he sees what it is because his phone always gets alerts when he's mentioned in the media.

he's getting a lot of those notifications because he's trending. and then he sees WHY. he sees screenshots of the post that he THOUGHT he'd made private. he sees that tim has been blurred in some photos to protect his modesty because bruce had posted naked photos of him in his old man sentimentality.

and he posted them publicly. on the company instagram account where he'd posted a simple birthday message for tim hours earlier. bruce in his wretched drunkenness hadn't switched to the right account.

the avalanche for his screw up was going to be massive. tim had just become fully legal the day before and bruce had blatantly admitted that their relationship had been going on for years. add to the fact that he posted photos of tim exposed for all the world to see. bruce is pretty sure that was breaking a few laws.

oh HR was going to bite his head off for this one, they've been over his bullshit for years. and that's not even taking into account friends and acquaintances who are messaging him for explanations. bruce can hear the doorbell ring and is certain that must be someone come to interrogate him or a reporter who manged to get through the gates.

bruce has really made a mess of things now.

but...tim was still sleeping. he was warm and curled up beside bruce in bed and...bruce would hate to ruin his day so soon. they'd been planning on eating a nice breakfast with the family. alfred was making blueberry pancakes.

so. bruce turns his phone off and lays back down.

he's sure alfred will shoo away whoever was at the door.

bruce wraps his arms around tim and tugs him closer.

its out of the bag now anyway. so what did it matter if he slept in with his tim anyway? the problem would still be there for them when tim woke up but for now bruce was going to hold his tim.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #brutim

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 11 months

Text

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: they discuss some rules and boundaries

content warnings: none

word count: 1.8k

Series Masterlist

The rays of a golden sun hitting y/n’s eyelids caused her to stir in her sleep. God, she was so comfortable. This bed was way softer than the guest bedroom, and she was cocooned under the comforter with a warm body pressing against her backside. She vaguely remembered taking a shower from the night before, and soft fingers running through her hair as she went to sleep for the second time.

The first coherent thought that ran through y/n’s brain was that everything around her smelled like vanilla. The second thought was connecting the dots between vanilla and Wanda.

Wanda.

Y/n’s eyes finally fluttered open as she fully awoke. She could feel her heart rate speeding up as her body attempted to catch up to the alertness of her brain. She attempted to keep her breathing steady as she recalled the events from last night.

Evidently, Wanda could also feel y/n’s heart rate rising. The woman behind her had an arm wrapped around y/n’s waist. When she started stirring, Wanda's arm tightened around her and held her in place. Y/n gave up on moving out of the bed, Wanda obviously wanted her to stay and she was more than happy to oblige.

“Good morning darling, I trust you slept well?” Wanda’s voice had a slight accent to it that y/n couldn’t quite place. It was also raspy, which was really sexy.

‘Stop thinking about sex, you just woke up.’

Y/n released a content sigh, burrowing further into the warmth of the woman behind her. “I think this is the first time in my life that I’ve slept more than 6 hours.” She said after glancing at the clock on the bedside table.

“Why’s that?” Wanda asked in a sleepy voice, her hand starting to rub small circles on y/n’s stomach.

“Well, training starts pretty early in the morning at the compound and on missions I’m normally too high strung to sleep properly.” Y/n said, before a small smirk made its way onto her face. “I’ve also never been so relaxed right before bed.”

Wanda hummed, her voice slightly lower than usual. Y/n could feel the woman smile against the back of her neck. “So you enjoyed last night then?”

Y/n left out a small huff of laughter, finally rolling over in the bed to face Wanda.

‘Bad move.’

Fuck, Wanda was even prettier in the morning. Her auburn hair was lit up by the golden light streaming through the window and was falling gently in waves over her shoulders, with a few strands falling into her face. Her eyes were half closed, but y/n could still see her green irises peeking through. She watched as Wanda’s nose scrunched slightly as she attempted to wake herself up.

“I- yes I enjoyed last night.” Y/n could barely form a coherent thought, as her brain was unhelpfully trying to count how many freckles dusted Wanda’s nose. She bit her lip as she thought further about what to say. Wanda’s eyes followed the movement, pretty green irises resting on y/n’s lips.

“I think now that I’ve calmed my nerves about my ‘first time’ and all that, now I’ll be more comfortable with sex.” Y/n paused, following Wanda’s eyes as they wandered over her face. “And I’m even more comfortable with you as well.”

At those words, Wanda’s eyes snapped to hers. She smiled slightly before simply saying, “That’s good.” and moving to get out of the bed. She stood and stretched, the hem of her oversized shirt reaching the tops of her thighs before she turned back to y/n with one eyebrow raised.

“Now, we’ll be able to have even more fun.” She smirked as y/n’s eyes lit up and the girl scrambled to sit up in bed, the comforter slipping off her shoulders. With that statement, Wanda said something about breakfast and walked through the door.

Y/n groaned, head falling against the headboard. Wanda was going to be the death of her. She was going to die from vanilla, green eyes, and a permanent smirk that followed y/n whenever she closed her eyes.

‘What a pleasant way to die.”

—

Over breakfast, Wanda had suggested that they go over what they wanted the rules in their relationship to be. Y/n agreed, and the first thing they talked about was her outfits. Wanda wanted to select an outfit for her everyday, and y/n was more than happy to agree seeing as the redhead always looked like she had walked right out of a fashion magazine. Her own taste in fashion was slightly rusty, and after seeing Wanda make her mundane closet seem fashionable, y/n was very enthusiastic about that rule.

Donning the outfit that Wanda had selected, y/n immediately wanted to go over more rules. Wanda had laughed lightly at her eagerness and told her to wait until they were at the office, since they were running slightly late.

So, here they were. Finally back in Wanda’s office.

As Wanda walked around her desk and opened her laptop to a new document to write down their rules, y/n sat comfortably in the chair across from the desk, fiddling with the necklaces around her neck.

“For this next rule, I want you to attend at least three classes a week that we offer here.” Wanda stated, setting her laptop slightly to the left so she could see y/n clearly.

Y/n’s brow furrowed, “Classes?” Wanda nodded, gesturing to the bookshelf behind her.

“Books can only teach you so much, and by attending classes you’ll have a broader understanding of this community as well as gain more knowledge of what a dom/sub relationship entails.” Wanda watched as y/n sat back in thought.

Wanda waited for a minute before gently saying, “I will be able to teach you how to read body language, as well as what is expected of you as a submissive. I can also teach you about different types of dominants, and what a good relationship looks like. For other topics, such as specialities like rope or impact play, or how to use different types of toys, the classes we offer will be much more helpful.”

Y/n nodded, finally understanding what Wanda meant.

“That works for me.” She said, sitting back up in her seat in anticipation as Wanda typed on her laptop. As soon as Wanda had finished, she looked back at y/n sitting across from her.

“That was the only rule that doesn’t specifically pertain to our relationship.” She said, as y/n’s shoulders slightly loosened. Y/n gave her a bigger smile than before as she gestured for Wanda to continue.

Wanda’s eyes darkened slightly as she stated, “The only person allowed to touch you, is myself.” Y/n swallowed down the sudden wave of arousal from her words. Her eyes had slightly widened at the shift in Wanda’s demeanor. The redhead seemed almost possessive. Y/n then wondered why she liked the thought of a possessive Wanda so much.

“Of course, with my permission others will be allowed to touch you. But only with your consent. Is this acceptable?” Wanda asked, watching y/n as she shifted slightly in her seat.

Y/n didn’t have to think hard about that one, so she blurted out, “That’s cool, I don’t want anybody other than you touching me anyways.” She mentally chided herself for sounding so eager, but then felt a glimmer of pride as Wanda smiled at her and typed once more.

When Wanda looked back up, she had one eyebrow raised. “You do understand that only I am allowed to touch you. That means you can’t touch either.”

Y/n couldn’t help but feel confused, wasn’t she always touching herself? I mean her hands were in her lap right now. How could a person not be… oh.

“You mean like masturbating.” She clarified, and Wanda nodded with her eyes still watching her.

“That’s fine with me.” Y/n said, lowering her hands back to her thighs from where they had been rising in an attempt to not physically touch her own body.

Wanda nodded, and typed while speaking. “I’ll make that a separate rule, just so it’s crystal clear.” Y/n sat silently, and when Wanda raised her eyes to her once more her eyebrows were drawn close together.

“What’s on your mind darling?” Wanda asked, as y/n was obviously wrestling with her own thoughts.

“I don’t want anybody else to touch you either.” Y/n said, her words rushed. “Sorry if I’m overstepping but I want to be the only one allowed to touch you.”

Wanda waited until y/n’s eyes met hers before she started to speak. “That works for me. Don’t worry about overstepping, this is a discussion. We both have to agree on rules, I’m not the only one allowed to create rules within our relationship.” She watched as y/n nodded with relief evident on her face.

Once Wanda had made it clear that the rules were meant to be a discussion, y/n was fully relaxed and comfortable. They only discussed general rules, since Wanda didn’t want to restrict their relationship with specific ones. After about a half hour discussion, Wanda saved the document on her computer and closed her laptop. She looked at y/n, who was sitting cross legged in the chair, and said one final thing.

“This discussion doesn’t have to be over. We can go over the rules at any time you’d like, and create new ones if we feel we need them. Does that sound alright with you?” Wanda asked, and y/n nodded quickly.

“I feel comfortable bringing up this discussion again if I want to, so um. Thanks?”

Wanda chuckled at y/n’s response, and unlocked her phone to read a few messages that had popped up during their discussion. She typed a response, then looked over at y/n.

“One of our instructors, Melissa, is willing to have you sit in on her class today. Does that sound alright to you?” Y/n uncrossed her legs, sitting up fully in her seat.

“What, now?” She asked, getting ready to leap to her feet.

Wanda held a hand up, the corner of her mouth turning up. “No, in about an hour. We still have some time. Why don’t you continue the book you started yesterday?”

Y/n relaxed slightly, before offering a sheepish grin. She nodded her acceptance and walked over to the bookshelf to pick up the book on different types of dominants and settled on the couch.

Wanda was slightly distracted with the way that y/n’s brow furrowed as she started reading, and found herself wanting to tuck the strands of hair that fell in front of y/n’s eyes away. She blinked herself back into work mode, and with one last glance at y/n, opened her laptop once again.

Now is not the time to fall for someone, she reminded herself as she skimmed over the latest emails in her inbox. Y/n was only here for the summer, and Wanda kept repeating that in her head as she shoved the image of the girl’s bright smile and wide eyes to the back of her mind.

Next Chapter

#mommy wanda #dom!wanda #wanda fanfic #wanda x reader #mcu #marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader

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the-cult-of-russo · 1 year

Text

Such a Softer Sin (Part 11)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: I’m not specifically tagging this one, if you’ve seen the show, nothing will shock you. Smut will happen eventually so minors DNI, thanks.

A/N: Here you go, my anonymous friend lmao Enjoy!

—--------

You put the sword back in the rack, chest heaving a little before you moved over to the bench and put your jacket back on. You and your pack had been training with the warriors for the past few days and you’d really been enjoying it. You’d learned a lot of new things you could apply to your fighting and you were grateful for it as they were things you’d never have thought about. You’d also taught them a few things too. Kos had beamed like a proud parent when Frank had asked you to teach, the warriors eager to learn how you fought and wanting some of your moves. It had proved a little tricky to try and teach it though as your fighting style wasn't so much things you’d learned, it was just the way your body naturally fought. You just went with the flow and it was something that came naturally to you. Kos used to tell you that you were born to be in battle with the way you moved, that you were like a ballerina with a sword. You glanced around now training was over, seeing people go about their day to day life. You’d really settled in here now, got used to being around so many people. Some of the new people had come too from other packs and the numbers were steadily increasing. You could taste the impending war on your tongue and you were thrumming in anticipation for it. You knew soon enough you’d be able to end this thing once and for all and it made you feel a little more hopeful with each new person who came in.

Your mind drifted to you lashing out at the King in the garden and you felt guilt and shame deep in your chest. You hadn’t meant to speak to him that way, you’d been scared and angry after finding all those witches dead but you knew it wasn’t fair to him. Accusing him of being a coward, as if he didn’t care for his people, was the worst thing to say to him and you knew that. You knew you might as well have shoved your dagger through his chests and you didn’t think you’d ever scrub away the image of his hurt face out of your brain. You hadn’t seen him much since, barely said a word as you’d only really seen him about the grounds and you hoped it was more to do with the fact he’d been insanely busy with preparations for the war and nothing to do with how you treated him. You knew he had been busy though, you’d heard Frank tell Karen he was worried about him and how he was barely sleeping. It made you feel bad for him. The burden of all of this lay heavily on his shoulders, anyone could see that and you didn't envy him one bit. It was clear that he took the guilt and blame for everything that went wrong as if he’d done it personally and you felt sorry for him. You couldn't wait for all of this to be over so he could have some peace, he deserved it. You glanced up at the sky but it wasn’t going dark just yet. The full moon was supposed to be tomorrow but you knew it wouldn't happen and you felt an ache in your chest. The full moons were a time you cherished with everything you had, being the only time you were connected with your wolf. Knowing it wouldn't happen made you feel despondent but you told yourself it would happen soon enough. You’d all fix the moon and there was no other option. You weren’t the only one who was restless. While everyone else may have a connection to their wolves all of the time, it didn't mean you were the only one who looked forward to shifting. There was also something that felt off about knowing you should be shifting but forced not to that added to the uncomfortable restlessness about it all.

You set off to the mess hall, knowing dinner was ready. When you walked inside, your eyes landed on Kos as he sat alone at a table and your eyes swept around trying to see if the King and his men were here, but once again they weren’t. You felt a pang of disappointment hit you as you walked over to get your food and then sat next to Kos. He gave you a smile as you sat down. You both made idle chit chat as you pushed your food around on your plate, feeling far too stressed to eat much. You were far too worked up about everything going on to have a real appetite. Not only with the upcoming war, but you were worried about Atti. He still wasn’t back and you were concerned about him. With everything going on now, you really didn't like the idea of him being out there without you and Kos to have his back. You wanted him here where you could see with your own eyes that he was okay and you wanted him by your side to fight with you like he should be. Where he’d always been. You hated how he pulled away again but you thought back to the conversation you’d had with him. He seemed genuinely overwhelmed by it all and you knew he wanted to try, that he’d be better with it, so you could only hope when he came back that you’d get to spend some more time with him. Maybe even be able to bond with his mate too. You could see all over him that he felt so lost and conflicted over his immense feelings and you wondered what that was like. If it made you act like Atti then you weren’t even sure you wanted a mate. You felt bitterness settle in your stomach like a stone when you felt his absence so heavily like this, you couldn't help it. Even with his words pinging around your brain, you had this awful sinking feeling that he wouldn't be making much of an effort when he got back and you loathed it.

After dinner you still felt restless and decided to just wander around the grounds for a bit. Karen had told you when you first got here that you were free to explore the grounds and castle, just to make sure you don’t randomly open doors as you didn't know what lay behind them. You just couldn't settle with all of your feelings and after exploring what felt like every inch of the grounds outside, you made your way into the castle to hopefully burn some more of your anxious energy. Just as you got inside, you saw Azalea juggling with trays of food, her eyes wide as she stared at them precariously balancing on her arms.

“What are you doing?” you asked in amusement and her eyes snapped to you then as she flashed you a bashful smile.

“I’m taking the Council their dinner,” she explained ruefully and you walked over to her more.

“Ah, I don’t envy you there. Luckily I haven’t seen them much since I got here, I like it better that way,” you smirked and she snorted with a nod.

“It’s not the best part of my job, I can assure you that. I try to be in and out as quick as possible,” she smiled and you didn't blame her. You’d figured being here would mean having to spend more time with the idiots but thankfully you had barely seen them at all and hadn't had to interact with them, just the way you liked it.

“One of these is also for the King, he hasn’t been eating properly lately, hasn’t requested food, so I just asked the cooks to make him something,” she explained with a thoughtful frown and a frown of your own graced your face at the news. So he was barely sleeping, not really eating and locking himself away to deal with everything. You worried for him with how little he was taking care of himself.

“Do you want me to take the King’s food to him? I’d offer to deal with the Council but I’m afraid I’d end up hitting them over the head with the trays,” you grinned impishly and she laughed.

“If you wouldn't mind, it would be a big help. They’re not even on the same floor,” she murmured.

“I don’t mind,” you insisted and you grabbed the tray she gestured to.

“It’s probably better if you take it anyway, I think you’d be able to lift his spirits and maybe even talk him into eating the food,” she mused with a grin and you smiled, unsure if you held that power over him but you’d damn well try.

You both started on the stairs, Azalea going to the floor below after giving you directions to Billy’s office and then you made your way up to the next floor. When you got to the door, you carefully balanced the tray so you could knock firmly. You heard him call out to enter and you pushed the door open before holding the tray properly and walking inside. His head snapped up, surprise all over his face to see you there. He was sitting at his desk surrounded by a mountain of paperwork and to the side, there was a large whiteboard full of names and lines that connected them. It all made no sense to you but you gathered it was some sort of strategy for the war.

“What are you doing here?” he asked you. He didn't sound unkind, only confused as he looked at you.

“You need to eat,” you smirked, raising a brow at him as you gestured to the tray.

“Azalea had food made for you and was going to bring it, but she needed to deal with the Council, so I offered to bring it,” you added as you set the tray on his desk and he gave you a relieved and grateful smile.

“Thank you,” he murmured tiredly, rubbing the crease between his brows as he rolled his shoulder and tried to relax into his chair.

“You can sit,” he smiled, nodding with his head to the chair on the other side of his desk. You sat down, eyes worriedly scanning his face as he started to eat. He looked so worn down and you didn't like it.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly and his eyes snapped up to you, looking caught off guard by your question. He was quiet for a moment, twirling the fork around in his hand as he looked deep in thought.

“Everyone looks to me ‘cause I'm a Demigod, I’m the King. They look at me like I have all the answers, like I can fix it all but I feel so outta my depth with this,” he sighed and you frowned deeply at how despondent he sounded.

“I’m worried and I don’t like it. We mighta won the last war but that asshole still got away, he still went off and made a new army to come at us and it doesn't really feel like we won anything at all,” he confessed with a shake of his head. You felt bad for him, knowing how much this was pressing down on him.

“We’ll deal with it soon enough. Everyone’s all hands on deck here and we all have your back. We’ve got all the new recruits coming in, boosting our numbers and we’re all training hard to make sure we’re ready. The castle’s guarded fully too so you don’t need to worry,” you assured, trying to comfort him. There was a big chance the castle could be targeted if the Vampire King felt bold enough to make such a move and since he’d tried to weaken you all with the moon, it was a pretty big chance. But you were all ready for it, all prepared for whatever he might throw your way. He nodded, pushing his food around on the plate much like you had and you knew he had no intention of eating any more than the little he had. He still seemed tense, your words not seeming to do much to ease him and you didn’t like it. You watched him sadly before an idea popped into your brain. You knew you and he were similar and you knew just what you needed when you felt like this.

“Come with me,” you said firmly as you stood. He looked a mixture of shocked and confused as he eyed you warily

“Where?” he asked slowly and you gave him an impish smile.

“Come and you’ll find out. Come on,” you insisted impatiently and his lips quirked up the tiniest amount in amusement as he stood.

You felt like you could physically feel some of his stress leaving his body as he exited the office and all of the stress that seemed to have built up in there, although he was definitely still tense. You were both silent as you left the castle and then left the castle grounds and you felt his curious glances being thrown your way every so often.

“It might not be safe to come out here,” he cautioned softly and you turned to look at him with a cheeky smile.

“I can handle myself and you're more than capable of looking after the two of us,” you snorted and while he still seemed like he was being crushed by the weight of the world, his eyes lit up at your words and a small smile graced his face that made your chest feel hot.

“I’m glad you think so,” he replied, a note of amusement in his voice that had you smiling.

“I don’t think so, I know so. With your power, I don’t have to worry, you’re like the ultimate bodyguard,” you grinned and he chuckled. You knew it was true to an extent but even he had his limits. Even he with all his power and strength could be outnumbered and be taken down. You wondered how that worked. He was immortal so he couldn't die but it didn't mean he couldn't be maimed. What would happen to the Demigod Lycan King if his limbs got hacked off? Would they regenerate? Would he be doomed forever to live a limbless life? You shook those morbid thoughts out of your head as quick as they came. He would be fine. Eventually you came to your destination as the lake came into view. You remembered your first time here, how peaceful it was even as you cried over the loss of friendship with Atti. How he’d kissed you. You tried to ignore it as you felt the pull to him you found harder and harder to ignore. It made you feel guilty for your mate if he ever showed his face. It was one thing to sleep with others like Billy had for simply carnal and primal reasons but another completely to get attached to someone who wasn’t your mate and you knew you were dancing a dangerous dance here. Friendship. That's all it was, even if you had shared three kisses so far. That's all it could ever be no matter what your body might be telling you. You wondered if he had some kind of allure being a Demigod, if it was part of the package. Or maybe it was just because you were feeling lonely, more so after Atti’s departure and you’d both shared some trauma that bonded people on a deeper level than normal. You glanced over to him as you got to the lake and his brows were raised as his eyes swept around, looking shocked that you’d bring him here.

“I want to fight with you,” you informed him firmly and his eyes widened then as they went from the lake to you. If you thought he seemed shocked you brought him here, he was doubly shocked now as you give him a pointed look.

"You want to fight?" He asked, his brow raising and amusement dancing behind his eyes.

"Scared you'll lose again?" You asked with a devilish grin and a slow smirk spread on his face.

"You're askin' for it this time, sweetheart," he teased, a glint in his eyes that told you this was exactly what he needed, just as you suspected.

The pair of you sparred for a bit as the sun went down, no weapons this time as you used hand to hand combat. You were quick as you dodged his hits but you knew if he used the speed that lay inside of him that he'd land his punches easily. You hadn’t been able to land any hits on him either and it caused you to fight harder, determined to at least get one good hit in.

"Go at me harder," you growled as you once again twirled out of the way of his fist. He stood taller, rolling his shoulder as he panted and watched you. He looked so much lighter now, you'd both been enjoying the fight.

"You sure?" He asked warily and you nodded.

"It'll help me get better," you insisted. He seemed to think about it for a moment before he smirked. He came at you with more speed than before and you had to work overtime in blocking, barely able to throw out any offensive moves while trying to keep up with him. He got a few hits in to your ribs although you barely felt them so you knew while he was being faster, he wasn't using more force. You wondered if he was scared to hurt you. You held your own for as long as you could but you quickly found yourself getting tired, your blocks getting sloppy as you tried to breathe through the burning in your lungs. You loved it though, loved the way it made your blood sing in your veins. He swung his fist at you and you jumped backwards. Before you could try and swing right back at him, he swiped your legs out from under you and you tumbled backwards, hitting your back with an 'oof' as the air got pushed out of your lungs. You started laughing as you tried to catch your breath and you heard him chuckling too as he held out his hand to help you up. You shot him a grin as you took it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. The adrenaline was flowing through you, your brain a little lightheaded as you blinked up at him. He was staring down at you breathlessly, a soft smile toying on his lips and you felt your heart pick up in your chest. You almost felt like he might kiss you again, tension between you seemingly palpable. You were surprised to find you wanted him to, how you were disappointed when he broke the eye contact and took a step back. You knew it was wrong and you swallowed thickly, trying to relax yourself and focus on how much you'd enjoyed the fight instead.

"We should head back," he murmured and he wouldn't look at you. You wondered if he'd felt the pull too, if he remembered how badly you'd reacted before and he was trying to ignore it. Or maybe he wasn't interested anymore. It wasn't like he didn't have the pick of any girl he wanted and you'd told him you weren't interested. Your brain hurt from thinking too much. You nodded and the pair of you set off back in silence and you were confused if the little outing had actually been helpful or not now.

When you got back to the castle grounds and through the gate, he took your hand and stopped you, making you look up at him with wide eyes.

"Thank you. I… I really needed that, it made me feel a lot better," he admitted softly, a tentative smile on his lips that filled your chest with warmth. You were glad he enjoyed it, glad to provide the distraction from all that was bothering him.

"I'm glad I could help," you replied and he squeezed your hand, flashing you another smile before letting it go.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he murmured as he watched you for a moment.

"Goodnight, Billy. Try to actually get some sleep," you shot him a knowing smile and he chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he shrugged.

"I'll try," he snorted and you nodded. With one last look, you forced yourself to turn around and head to your pack house. As you got upstairs to your room, Kos was sitting in bed reading and your lips ticked up a little. He glanced up at you as you walked in, a smile gracing his face.

"I'd ask where you've been, but I can smell the King all over you," he teased and you felt your cheeks burn like flames were licking them. You huffed a laugh as you walked over to the bed, tugging your boots off and shrugging out of your jacket. Kos was watching you carefully, almost as if he could sense you wanted to talk about something.

"I… I think I feel something for him and I don't know what to do," you confessed, glancing at him briefly before looking away as you felt a sting of shame.

"I just know it's a bad idea to get involved, but the more time I spend with him, the more I feel it," you added with a thoughtful frown. Kos shifted a little before he sat up more, scooting close to you as he set a reassuring hand on your back.

"I wish I could tell you what to do, but this is something you have to decide. Not everyone waits for their mate and you know I won't judge you no matter what you decide," he soothed and it did make you feel a little better. You leaned into him a little more as you blew out a sigh.

"I just don't want to lose the friendship. I actually care about him and things can get really messy or weird. His mate could turn up any day now, she could even end up being one of the new fighters that come," you lamented and it felt like someone poured ice over your heart at even the thought. It made you feel like a terrible friend all over again. You knew he deserved his mate, you knew that was all he'd been hoping for, so many years he'd been longing for her. You shouldn't be sitting there hoping it didn't happen, it was incredibly selfish and cruel of you to even think that way. Your mind supplied you with images of his mate turning up, of him running over to her and wrapping her in his arms, kissing her. It filled you with dread and your chest ached at the notion that it could very well happen and there wouldn't be a thing you could do to stop it. And this was why this whole thing was a bad idea. If you felt like this now, then actually starting something with him would make it ten times worse. You were being stupid. You'd gotten attached to someone you had no right being attached to and you needed to smother the blossoming feelings before they got out of hand. You were friends and that's all you'd ever be.

Taglist: (if you’ve been asked to be tagged and aren’t here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people.)

@firexfate

@blanchedelioncourt

@on-ya

@sunshinedaisies-anddeath

@snowkestrel

@music-indie-tv

@idaofinfinity

@sweetserendipity65

@ramadiiiisme

@k-marzolf

@celestialams

@woowwwee

@noortsshift

@rainbowgoblinfan

@mysweetlittledesire

@promnightbinbaby

@intothesoul

#billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x reader #billy russo

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hanafubukki · 1 year

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Malleus’ Feelings about the Change in Lilia / Familial Love

So I am still in my Malleus feels from this post and I want to talk a bit more about Malleus’ feelings when it came to Lilia and the changes Lilia gradually goes through. (This is my speculation and thoughts from the known lore)

So, we know that Lilia watched and, to a degree, raised Malleus. Made sure that Malleus would not only be safe from others, but also from himself. Lilia raised Malleus and instilled in him all the qualities of a good King.

We know that Malleus’ grandmother was busy running the country but she would see Malleus and we know that she gives Malleus flower seeds that he grows. We have also learned that she’s another one that states that he has to grow to be a ruler. We know Malleus is fond of his grandmother but we also know that she’s busy.

So, most of the time, Malleus would get familiar love from Lilia only. And as we’ve seen from the lesson lines that Malleus states, Lilia didn’t exactly go easy on him.

Now, this could be because of many reasons: natural fae attitudes, General Lilia ruthlessness, the expectations of what Malleus will be in the future, and so on…

But we know that during those times, Lilia was with Malleus and can you imagine? Little Malleus doing his best to make him proud. This person that he loves and looks up to, he wants to make him proud so he does his best to meet Lilia’s standards (like Silver, can you see the parallels?) and you can tell that Malleus is proud of that fact from the way he smirks during those history lessons.

We also know that Lilia went on adventures. Malleus couldn’t go with him of course, but we know that Lilia would return and speak of his adventures and bring him souvenirs and that must have been such a bright time for Malleus. Even enough to dampen the hurt whenever Lilia left because he knew he would come back and he would smile and give him gifts. We also know that one of the gifts Malleus treasures is his tanogachi from Lilia.

Time passes, and eventually, Lilia finds Silver and raised him. We know Lilia wasn’t the best because he doesn’t know how to treat humans, so with the help of the Zigvolts and Malleus, he was able to raise Silver.

Lilia gradually changes. He trains Silver and Sebek and he notices that he can’t teach them like you would normally for faes, like the way he did with Malleus.

So, he changes and becomes softer and adapts in a way that would let Silver and Sebek learn. Not saying he wasn’t still hard on them, I mean you can’t leave kids alone on an island by themselves to fend for themselves against nature and other dangers and come back and expect them to be okay and alive (though I like to think that he was watching from the sidelines just in case, pretty sure Mama Zigvolt would have his head too) because that’s a brutal training regimen.

And Malleus is seeing all this, he watches as his mentor and father figure changes. We also know that at one point Lilia also changes his looks. I believe Malleus is the only one that mentions there’s an image of Lilia in the textbooks, and most likely, Silver and Sebek grew up and saw Lilia’s change in appearance too.

But to Malleus? This change is significant. It not only a change from what he has known all through his life, but it’s also as if he’s meeting someone new. It’s as if the person he knew before is not there anymore. It’s another loss to the list of losses he already has.

But even though this Lilia is more softer and different, he is still Lilia nonetheless. It’s another sign of time passing and another sign of something Malleus does not have control of despite his powers.

Then there’s the way Lilia treats Silver. Malleus understands humans to a certain degree. After all, he grew up with very few human interactions and part of the reason he’s going to NRC is so he can form connections and understand humans more.

But, the way Lilia treats Silver (and Sebek) is different. Lilia is more familiar and loving with them, probably more so than he was ever with Malleus.

Lilia takes care of Silver when he’s sick, worried when he got lost, always showing affection through hugs and other ways. They are close. But have we ever heard about this type of affection with Malleus? This familiarity? This type of love?

Now, Malleus watches as someone who he looks up to as a father figure loves another in a way he always craved. (But he never received, he has to uphold a image after all right?)

And how do you think that must have made him feel?

But we do not see this envy, at least not right now.

Because Malleus cherishes Silver (and Sebek) too, he has watched them grow. He has watched them as they dedicated their lives to protecting him. What more can he ask for? How can he be envious (more like show it) or ask for more? How can he ask for more? He’s not raised to be this way. He’s raised to do and be the best for his people and he cannot be selfish.

And they love him, but what type of love is this? Is this even love? Or is it Worship? Duty? Loyalty?

In the end, does Malleus really have what he always wanted? Familial Love? For people to love him for him?

Or has he always been lonely in a room full of people? Looking from the outside in?

#twst lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge #twst malleus draconia #malleus draconia #twst silver #twst sebek zigvolt #twst theory #twst theories #book 7 #twst book 7 #malleus draconia character analysis #twst analysis #diasomnia

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thegreatwicked · 2 months

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Shadows of Deception - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Under the Influence by Chris Brown

Summary: In Gotham City, a world of secrets and danger, Belladonna finds herself embroiled in a web of crime when she becomes a witness to illicit activities at Roman Sions' exclusive club, Masquerade Noir. Instead of eliminating her, Roman sees an opportunity and spares her life, forming an unconventional alliance. They pose as a couple, using each other as alibis to deceive the police. But as they delve deeper into their charade, their connection intensifies, blurring the lines between reality and deception. As desire and danger collide, they discover unexpected love in the midst of a thrilling and forbidden affair.

Rating: Explicit; graphic depictions of sex and violence

Pairing: Roman Sionis/OFC; Belladonna Black, slight Zsasz/OFC if enough interest.

---

His index finger rapped against the glass of scotch, the rhythm not bound by any conventional beat but rather mirroring the erratic tempo of Roman’s internal world. He listened intently to the audio from Belladonna's police interview. He’d lost track of how many times he’d replayed it, too many to count. He was fixated in particular on replaying the moments where Belladonna described her understanding of their relationship on an endless loop.

“Roman only cares about himself. You’re nothing to him.”

His lip curled up each time he listened to Ramirez’s bold assertions. Just who the fuck did he think he was? Every word that he spoke only egged on Roman’s more violent intrusive thoughts, every little dig at Belladonna, every attempt to rile her up and his index finger tapped a little harder on the glass. But then Belladonna’s voice came over the recording and his tempo returned to its earlier calm but odd tempo.

“I know.”

"I'm not stupid—maybe a little starry-eyed, but not stupid. I see the score. And you’re right, men like Roman don't fall in love; but they do dip their toes in it for a bit. I get it. Sooner or later, he'll move on, find someone more exciting, someone willing to do things I won't. And when that day comes, I'll thank him for the good times and go my own way."

Then his tapping stopped altogether, and his grip on the glass relaxed so much it nearly slipped from his hand.

“And what if he doesn’t let you go that easy?”

"Life's short—last year sure hammered that home. If Jimmy's fate tells us anything, it's that nothing's guaranteed. Not today, not tomorrow. So, until my clock runs out, I'm going to enjoy every second I can, and right now, I’m enjoying them with Roman. He makes me feel alive."

He grinned at that last part, so he made her feel alive, huh? Funny, he usually had the exact opposite reaction on people.

He’d had more than a few run screaming from his presence when he lost his temper, when the mask of the confident club owner slipped and the monster beneath it peaked out, eyes burning and frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog. One way or another, none of them had what it took to handle a man like him, though to be fair, he’d never been terribly interested in women as anything more than a means to let out some pent-up frustrations, and they didn’t always enjoy it either. He wasn’t a gentle lover. That wasn’t to say Roman ever forced anyone to do anything they didn’t want to, he wasn’t one of those types.

Women were a fickle thing that he never understood, like most men, and he’d seen them all. The starry-eyed naive girls hoping to bring out a softer side to him, the wanna-be she-doms who thought they could control him, what a laugh. The ones that insisted they could be everything he wanted and meet his every desire, not in his experience. There had even been a few crazies who’d insisted they could match his particular brand of insanity, but Roman had time and time proved to be too much for even them to handle and in the end, they were just words.

He’d listened to the interview a handful of times since returning to the penthouse with Belladonna, long after the doc had told him to sit down and wait, there wasn’t anything else Roman could do apart from look like a lovesick puppy at her bedside. And he sure as shit wasn’t about to do that, though it didn’t stop him from occasionally putting down the recorder and wandering into the room to look at her.

He'd managed to keep his visits under five, and he certainly didn’t sit by her bedside, or rather his bed all weepy-eyed clutching her hand, no he simply stood in the doorway like a respectable psychopath, thank you very much. At least, he’d started out that way. With each visit he found himself drawn a little closer into the room but it had been hours since their return, and every time he looked at her, his gut twisted into tighter knots. She looked like a rag doll, her olive skin unnaturally pale and sickly—a sight that grated on him. When the hell was she going to wake up? This was just plain ridiculous.

He’d nearly strode into the room with the intent of shaking her awake but the second he’d felt her breath on his outstretched hand the sudden urge died inside him replaced by something he couldn’t understand or explain and he once more retreated to his office. Stan’s assurances did little to quell his unease; he claimed she was fine, just experiencing the aftermath of a sugar crash, and that sleeping was a natural consequence but he wasn't convinced.

Everyone in this whole damned penthouse was entirely too calm. He felt like he was going crazy. Well, crazier.

He didn’t even understand why he was so fixated on her. There was no reason to be.

Damn it, there wasn’t a safer place for her than right here, in his bed nonetheless.

She was fine.

It was fine.

Everything was fine!

Except it wasn’t. And he wasn’t the only one who knew that.

Powerless wasn’t a feeling Roman Sionis liked at all and that’s exactly how he felt. Powerless. All he could do was wait for her to wake up, and then they would have a discussion about her stupid decision to leave his penthouse. They’d most definitely be going over some of her answers in that interview… Oh, he had some thoughts about that too.

But then his thoughts would circle back to the reason for her departure in the first place, and he clenched his fists in frustration, cracking his knuckles, before pouring another scotch.

He wasn’t good at this. The whole waiting thing, patience wasn’t his strong suit. God, what he wouldn’t have given for a little good old-fashioned interrogation right now, just something to take his mind off the uncharted territory he was drifting in. He wanted familiarity and routine, his normal, so his mind wandered back to the only thing he could approach cold-heartedly; the recent encounter with Cobblepot. Surely focusing on business matters would provide some respite from the chaos of his emotions. Ew, emotions, what was he, turning into some pussy little girl? But as he replayed the scene in his mind, the anger that had simmered within him boiled over once more.

At first, he was furious with Belladonna for finding herself in such a precarious situation, his lip twitching. But when he saw the gun pointed at her, his fury transformed into a blazing inferno of rage. At that moment, he felt an overwhelming need to protect her, to assert his dominance and stake his claim.

And then, without hesitation, he uttered those possessive words in front of both groups of men.

‘His woman.’

His.

It was a slip of the tongue, he told himself. Of course it was, he would never say something so stupid.

But then it wasn’t. Was it?

In his mind, he went back and forth, debating every which way he could, talking himself in circles. It was a purely tactical decision he’d made, a carefully selected choice of words. By attaching Belladonna to him like that, it sent a message loud and clear; keep away.

But at the same time, it was a double-edged sword, making her a bigger target, a vulnerability to Roman opening him up to further attacks from those who were stupid enough to use her against him. And of course, he had to protect her anyway, because if anything happened to her, his life would only get more complicated with the police breathing down his goddamn neck.

Frustrated and angry, he clenched his teeth and gripped the leather arms of his chair before everything inside him welled up and exploded like a reactor, chucking his glass of scotch at the wall in a burst of murderous glitter. Why had every moment since he’d decided to let her live only been incredibly complicated and taxing?

This wasn’t like him, and he knew that his little heroic display would cause problems within his ranks. His tunnel vision wasn’t so all-consuming that he missed the shocked and curious looks his men gave him as he left her loft, carrying Belladonna in his arms. No, this was going to be something he’d have to sort out later, probably in a very grand fashion. He needed to be more vigilant now than ever, more ruthless, which meant she had to stop being so damn careless. He had to bring her in closer, tell her more. Pull her in deeper.

Most of his men were simply hired help and very few of them possessed what one might think of as genuine loyalty; Zsasz aside, he couldn’t think of anyone specifically that he didn’t have to make a direct deposit to for reliability. Until the enigma that was Belladonna Black.

"If you want me to spin a story to help you dodge your duties and let the real killer go, find someone else," she asserted. "Roman didn’t kill Jimmy. He was with me, delivering a memorable experience against a cinderblock wall, then I gave him my number and got a lift home."

He smirked again as the audio came to its conclusion. She said she could do it and she’d done it. She’d lied for him and in exquisite fashion as well, it was a good performance, one she deserved a standing ovation for. She’d been in control of every second of that interview from the moment she’d sat down. It sounded so convincing and he would have given anything to see the look on Ramirez’s face, but Derrick assured him it was everything he imagined it was.

A quick flash of frustration, his stupid, fat, fucking face filling with disappointment and anger. But mostly it was a realization that Belladonna Black wasn’t going to be one turned so easily, and that brought a smile to his face.

Which was, precisely when the twin Detective Douchebags turned their focus on him. They wound him up easily and he couldn’t explain why. Well, that wasn’t true, he knew why he’d gotten so wound up. It was because, at the time, he hadn’t entirely trusted Belladonna; he didn’t know if he could. He knew it now though, and so did those fucking cops.

Fear didn’t keep someone loyal, it kept them afraid, and in that interview room, Craven had used that fear of Belladonna’s trustworthiness against him. All his pep talks, all his charm on Belladonna, and the few threats he’d made against her had all been unnecessary, she trusted him enough to put her neck on the line for him and he hadn’t exactly been a gentleman. At best he’d been a reliable source of thinly veiled threats, promises he’d yet to deliver on, and the occasional orgasm.

No, he couldn’t explain what was happening to him these last two months, any more than he could explain his decision to let Belladonna live. It was a whim. But the facts were the facts now, she was in far too deep for her to just disappear. And he was quickly coming to the understanding that he wanted it that way. That he wanted her to continue to drive him insane with her smart mouth and constant retorts, wanted to keep showing up at her work and making a spectacle out of their displays of affection but he also wanted to keep driving her insane too. He didn’t know why but he loved it.

Two firm raps at the door pulled Roman from his thoughts, and Zsasz leaned against the doorframe, his sharp gaze taking in his brooding boss. He looked to Zsasz and gave a simple head nod to enter, then he rose to grab another glass and poured himself a new drink.

"It's not too late. We can still find a solution for her,"

Roman paused, and the gentle clinking of the decanter against his glass ceased.

Zsasz’s suggestion lacked his usual sharp certainty, but rather it held an edge of hesitancy that wasn’t typical for him. To some degree he was right, people disappeared in Gotham every day, never to be seen again, but the notion of Belladonna being one of them wasn’t one he was willing to entertain anymore.

Roman took a long sip of his drink before responding in a flat, emotionless voice, "No, Zsasz. I think we're past that now."

He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, knowing that what Belladonna said about their relationship was true, but hating it all the same. He wanted her to want him, he couldn't pinpoint why, she had become important to him. It both irked and exhilarated him. It was the way she’d looked at him like he was the hero, as opposed to what he really was, the monster in the closet. Somehow she was changing from a pawn he liked to play with, to a queen whom he was pulling out all the stops for.

Zsasz sat down "If she's here to stay, we'll need to increase her security. We’re looking at major changes to protect her and address the problems this’ll cause."

Roman nodded, understanding that both he and Zsasz had similar concerns about maintaining his reputation as a formidable criminal without appearing weak. The notion that a woman could soften a man’s heart like him was a fantasy, the fact was; Roman was about to get meaner. There would be fewer severed ears and more severed limbs and plucked eyes.

“Where do we start?” Roman pushed a glass over to Zsasz. “Could we just burn down the whole damn city?”

“That’d be a lot of bodies,” Zsasz replied after a moment pouring himself a drink with no ice.

“Oh, what’s a few hundred thousand bodies?”

Zsasz smirked and looked as though he was running the numbers in his head but ultimately he came to the same conclusion he knew Roman had come to. They needed to be smart about this, the game was changing, and losers clung to outdated rules, while the victors won by creating their own.

“Her place is a weak point, had the men going through it top to bottom, found a few listening devices aside from yours, but we’ll need a team to do a more in-depth sweep for anything else. Cobblepot has access to top-tier gear, I doubt we’ve found everything.”

“Oswald… He’s not even the real problem is he?” The ice in Roman’s glass clinked with another sip. “What’s the word in the ranks?”

“There's some mutterings but nothing that can’t be fixed by an appropriate show of force.” An appropriate show of force usually meant bodies or blood. Or both. “She’ll have to step up too, they need to be just as afraid of her as they are of you.”

Roman scoffed, that was an amusing idea, his men being afraid of Belladonna, sure she had a resting bitch face that could make most people shrivel, but he couldn’t see Belladonna so much as squishing a bug. “Where are we with Jimmy?”

"Everything seems to line up with your plans," Zsasz reported, "except for one thing: Jimmy doesn't appear to have any association with Cobblepot."

“How the fuck is that possible? He had at least ten grand worth of product all with Cobblepots branding, and the boys at the lab even had it tested, it was all legit and 100% pure.”

"Well, Cobblepot did say you two needed to talk," Zsasz replied, a sly grin on his face. "We could get the information we need if you handle him carefully."

Roman agreed, scowling at the mention of Cobblepot's name. "How the fuck is he involved in this?" he muttered under his breath, adding, "Keep your enemies closer..."

Just then, a knock at the door alerted both men to the presence of Roman's personal doctor.

"Roman, she’s awake."

—

Belladonna's eyes fluttered open, the world around her resembled more of a kaleidoscope; unfocused and hazy. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to her surroundings, the only source of light came from a bedside table and a light outside the room she was in. The walls were a dark, rich color and adorned with expensive artwork. The furniture was modern and sleek, befitting of someone with lots of money. The sheets were luxurious and cool to the touch when she stretched out on them only to realize she was lying in a bed that wasn't her own. She knew this was likely Roman’s penthose but it wasn’t until she turned into his pillow and breathed it in.

A mixture of expensive cologne with an underlying hint of something dark and alluring. The clean, fresh scent of soap hung in the air, mingling with the cologne to create a distinctly masculine smell. And beneath it all was a raw, primal scent that could only be described as pure testosterone. All of it screaming Roman Sionis.

As she struggled to sit up, the room spun around her, and a sharp pain shot through her arm and she drew in a ragged breath; somewhere between a shriek and a gasp. When she finally managed to prop herself up, she noticed something that made her stomach drop: there was a needle lodged in her arm, connected to an IV bag hanging next to the bed. Panic quickly set in as she struggled to focus on the contents of the bag; her vision was still hazy. She had no clue what was being pumped into her and began to hyperventilate.

She couldn’t just unhook it, she didn’t know how, and she had nothing to stop the bleeding. She wanted to get out of there. She tried to stand but that was a mistake and dizziness washed over her like a tidal wave, causing her to lose her balance and fall back, grasping at the nightstand.

"Shit!" She muttered, knocking over a glass of water in the process, its contents spilling onto the cold floor, glass shattering everywhere. The needle in her arm shifted causing more pain and blood began to trickle down her arm. Fuck!

Footsteps quickly approached, and a man she had never seen before entered the room. Panic surged through her veins, and she scrambled away from him while trying to avoid the glass.

"Stay away from me!" Her voice was scratchy and weak.

"Miss Black, it's alright, I’m Dr. Stan," he said calmly, his hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. "I'm Roman's personal physician, and you're currently in his penthouse." She studied him for a minute, he could be a doctor, sure, he looked the right age, and his glasses gave him a scholarly kind of vibe. And not that it meant anything but she was fairly sure, he was wearing a hairpiece, but that wasn’t really a judgment on her part, just an observation.

"Roman?"

"You had a sugar crash, do you remember?" She squinted like she was trying to remember but groaned and clutched her head, ultimately shaking it. "Ok, I understand, don't worry, you're perfectly safe, I’m going to help you."

“What is that?”

He approached carefully like one might cozy up to a wounded animal with the intention of helping it. “It’s a dextrose solution, you were dehydrated and your sugar levels were too low, I had to administer an IV to get you to a safer place.”

Belladonna's gaze darted to the needle in her arm again, and she winced as she felt a sharp pain. "Can you take it out?" she pleaded, her voice tinged with urgency.

The doctor nodded, understanding her distress. "Of course," he said, moving closer to inspect the IV.

As her panic subsided, and she allowed him to come closer, he carefully helped her back onto the bed, kicking the glass aside.

What kind of name was Stan? Was that his first name or his last? Did doctors go by their first names when it came to personal doctors? She didn’t even know they made house calls. He reached for his medical bag that had been on the floor and pulled out a few things,

"How long was I out?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's been a few hours,"

She winced as he pressed a quarter-folded piece of gauze against the needle site, but she mostly stayed completely still. Once the bleeding subsided, he took an alcohol wipe and started cleaning up the blood that had trickled down her arm, before turning to the IV. His movements were precise and controlled, the adhesive tape pulled on her skin and it was the kind of sensation that made her want to rub the spot profusely.

"Hold pressure here," he instructed, placing another piece of gauze over the needle site before he finally removed it. Then he reached for a roll of blue self-adhesive tape and wrapped it around her arm, securing everything in place with a bit of pressure. “Better?”

“Much.”

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Like the floor of a taxi," she admitted, rubbing her temples, he chuckled. At least her sense of humor was intact.

"Understandable. You were in pretty rough shape when Roman found you. Let’s check your vitals,”

He reached back into his bag and began pulling out several items, setting them on the bedside table; a blood pressure cuff, one of those things they stick on your finger at the doctor’s office, a stethoscope, and a thermometer. “You know, you’re very lucky, Roman knew how to stabilize your sugars."

Roman did what? She didn’t remember any of that, the last thing she remembered was seeing Roman looking as angry as she’d ever seen him telling her to come to him.

Belladonna furrowed her brow in concentration, trying to recall the events that had led her here but everything was hazy at best and it really did feel like a dream.

"What happened?"

He placed the cuff on her left arm and inflated it, inducing the familiar annoying pressure, then placed the stethoscope on her brachial artery listening as the pressure released slowly.

"You called Roman, and he arrived before you lost consciousness."

She vaguely remembered Roman telling her to eat something but it was so unclear she thought it was part of a dream. Doctor Stan must have noticed the constant licking of her lips and he supplied the answer before she even asked the question, “He said he got you to eat some M&Ms, but you were pretty out of it, good thing you had them handy, complex carbohydrates are your friend at a time like this.”

He loosened the cuff and the tingling in her fingers began to ebb. “120/80, that's good.”

He placed the pressure cuff back into the bag and placed the little monitoring thing, whatever it was, on her finger and then brought the thermometer to her forehead.

“He was pretty frantic when called me and had me come over, said it was a top-tier emergency, and to be honest I expected worse,” the thermometer beeped and he seemed pleased with the result, “98 degrees.” He said passively, then he took his stethoscope from his neck and put it on. "Alright, Belladonna, I'm going to listen to your breathing now. I need you to take slow, deep breaths through your nose. Inhale deeply, then exhale slowly."

"Roman was worried about me?" she asked skeptically before complying with the first breath, he moved the stethoscope and indicated another deep breath.

"Very much so," the doctor said, nodding. "I've never seen him like this. When he called me, I was surprised it wasn't about him being in trouble – but well, Roman has a way of defying conventional expectations." He moved the stethoscope one more time, “Few more deep breaths,”

She nearly laughed, then breathed in deeply and slowly several times. Feeling a spark of warmth at the thought as she settled back onto the bed.

"He’ll be glad to know you’re awake," He put the stethoscope away and took her pulse, centering his index and middle finger on her radial artery and applied pressure while looking at his watch.

“Your pulse looks good. Alright, sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

Roman was worried? No, he didn’t say worried, he said; frantic. It was hard to picture Roman any other way than amused or angry, there was no in-between. At least not that she had ever seen. It was impossible to picture Roman as anything other than composed, what exactly did that mean? What was frantic Roman like? Probably very similar to angry Roman, she reasoned.

Roman wasn’t a man who liked it when he wasn’t in control. That much was well understood. She could almost imagine him yelling into a phone, lots of swearing, probably reiterating that money was no objective and it was a sweet thought. One that caught her off guard so much so that she almost didn’t notice the multiple sets of approaching footsteps.

Moments later, Roman appeared with Zsasz in tow. His expression was stern, but maybe there was just a hint of concern in his eyes. She wondered if she was imagining it.

“Welcome back, Angel.” Roman’s heavy and dark voice drifted back into the room. "Doctor, what's the verdict?"

Doctor Stan looked up at Roman and he seemed very pleased, "I think she’ll be fine, just going to do a few more things and I’ll be out of your hair, let's check your glucose levels."

He took out an alcohol wipe and produced a glucometer, a lancet, and a bandaid. As if second nature she held out her index finger, he wiped down her finger and the lancet snapped out pricking her fingertip, she made a face at the lancet and stuck her finger but otherwise didn’t react.

“Any lingering pains?” He pressed the test strip to her finger and the blood soaked into the strip.

“Just a headache.”

“Well, that’s normal, I’d recommend some electrolytes, sports drinks, or maybe some coconut water.”

Zsasz pulled a face at the lancet and the small bead of blood on her fingertip, he seemed uncomfortable.

“Oh, come on now Zsasz, with all the work you do for Roman, a little finger prick test has you squirming?”

“You have any idea how many nerve endings are in your fingertips?”

It seemed an off thing for Zsasz to be uncomfortable with but she supposed it made sense, she instinctively brought her fingertip to her lips but Roman quickly grabbed it and wrapped the bandage around her index finger.

“As a matter of fact I do, learned all about it in med school, over 3000 per square inch.”

He fed the test strip into the glucometer and waited for the device to finish its reading.

“The headache we can manage with over-the-counter headache medicine, but if you like I can give you something a little stronger, drink plenty of fluids, no strenuous activity.”

The glucometer beeped and he checked the results, his brow furrowed.

"Belladonna, your blood sugar level is a bit lower than we'd like to see right now. It's currently measuring between 60 to 70 milligrams per deciliter, which is slightly below the normal range for someone without diabetes. While it's not dangerously low, it's important to bring it up a bit to ensure you're feeling your best. A good balanced meal with carbohydrates, proteins, healthy fats, fruits, and vegetables should fix that. How do you feel about having a snack or a drink with some sugar in it?"

She offered a weak smile and nodded, “Sounds good actually,” Roman whispered something to Zsasz and he quickly left the room.

"A nice quiet evening will have you back on your feet and let's try to avoid any more sugar crashes, no skipping meals.” He actually wagged his finger at her, she hadn’t been chided by a doctor in a hot minute, but she liked Stan. Seemed like a nice guy and she added his name to the list of people whom she was shocked to associate with Roman Sionis.

“A nice evening of what the kids call 'Netflix and chill.'"

"It’s already handled" Roman agreed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “What sort of snack in the meantime?”

“Candy can work in a pinch but let’s try to stay away from it, something like fruit would be better, it's absorbed more easily into the bloodstream. Don’t forget to replace that emergency stash of M&Ms in your bag.”

“With or without the chocolate fountain?” The doctor just chuckled, shaking his head at Roman, and packed up his bag.

“Get some rest, Miss Black, call me if you need anything.” He spoke the last part more to Roman than Belladonna.

"Thank you, Stan,"

Roman walked Dr. Stan to the door and in the shadows that fell over them, but they were still in Belladonna’s view, as was the small stack of cash Roman tried to discreetly hand him. Stan held out his hand to Roman and tried to wave it away but Roman didn’t budge.

“Oh, no, no, Roman, this is far too much. It's not like I removed a bullet."

"Not this time," Roman countered, his tone darkly humorous.

Dr. Stan chuckled and nodded, “Well, this was one of the easier house calls,” As they reached the door Dr. Stan mentioned something Belladonna heard but couldn’t understand it was too muffled from their distance, and Roman didn't respond.

There was the sound of Roman footsteps coming back into the room, but when he returned to her side, he held a pomegranate in his hand and wore the look of a parent about to lecture her. She pulled her knees a bit closer to her chest as he sat on the bed, still not saying a word.

She watched as Roman meticulously peeled the crimson pomegranate, its juice staining his fingers.

“Where’d Zsasz go?”

"I had him go get Thai for you." Her eyes widened in surprise; she didn't recall ever telling him she liked Thai, but then again, who didn’t?

"How'd you know I like Thai food?" she asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

Roman smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I have my ways, Angel." He held out the pomegranate to her. She hesitated, never having eaten one before, then pushed it away, seeking answers instead.

"Roman, what happened? Tell me about Oswald Cobblepot. Why was he at my place?"

"He was dropping off my dry cleaning," he replied humorlessly, but his expression turned serious, holding out the crimson gem-like pomegranate seed again, “I’m waiting, Angel.”

“So am I.” Stubborn as ever.

"I’ll make you a deal; questions answered, but only if you eat."

He gently pressed a pomegranate seed between her lips, holding his fingers there for her to bite down on. After a few seconds, her lips gave way and she accepted the piece of fruit, her lips brushing his fingers. He seemed relieved.

"Ask away, Angel," Roman said, biting into the pomegranate like an apple. He placed a chunk of the seeded fruit into her hand, which she studied for a minute before plucking several little ruby-like seeds and popping them into her mouth. The tart sweetness burst on her tongue in a way that put strawberries to shame, and she asked;

"Who is Oswald Cobblepot?"

"Oswald is a criminal who deals with stolen goods, bribery, witness intimidation, theft, controlled substances, and occasionally murder," Roman replied deadpan. "As for our personal relationship, we've known each other for years. We went to prep school together, and our families have a long history together."

So Cobblepot wasn’t lying about that, the conversation she had with him began to drift back into her mind. “Tell me about your family,"

His face darkened. "That's not up for discussion."

She looked away, the frustration was impossible to miss and after the day she’d had, and in a rare act of submission he offered up the following.

"We haven't spoken in years, I last saw them when I was twenty-one." he said tersely. "Now, let's talk about what happened at your apartment. What's the last thing you remember?”

She chewed on the seeds before spitting one into her hand, uncertain of what to do with it,

“Eat the seeds angel, they're good for you. You can swallow them whole.” Roman took another bite of the pomegranate juice staining his lips, something she tried to ignore.

“He had a magazine with our picture in it,”

Roman smirked, “I saw it. Explains what got into you that night after the party,” He grinned, biting into the fruit again and licking his lips.

“He was there when I got back, I didn’t even get the door shut all the way before I saw them, I went for the panel but it was disabled.” Roman nodded, “He said, he needed to talk to you about the docks and he thought I could get ahold of you. I called, a bunch,” she looked at him squarely in the eyes, “You didn’t pick up.”

“I’m sorry.”

It couldn’t go more silent than it already was, and it soon became overbearing with how he looked nowhere other than her eyes, black on black. No hiding, no deflecting, no excuses. He apologized to her. She was stunned.

“It’s-it’s ok-”

“No, it's not.” He chewed a few more seeds, “It won’t happen again, if you call I come running, guns blazing. No questions asked.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, she was speechless. She just nodded in agreement, unsure of how to handle such sincerity.

“Did he touch you?”

She thought back to her loft, aside from the hand patting a few times, the answer was a resounding no and she shuddered at the thought.

“Not really,” she rubbed her hands, “Patted my hands like a teacher or something.”

“He didn’t hurt you?” She shook her head and continued to rub at her hands trying to erase the memory.

“I feel like I need a scalding hot shower,”

Roman took her hand and pressed a surprisingly gentlemanly kiss to it, then her palm like he did whenever he visited her at work. It was a sweet gesture but it did little to counter the taste of apprehension that came with her next question.

“What happened at the docks?”

Roman paused and seemed like he was weighing his options before replying. “Business.”

“I saw the guy's ear, Roman. You did that?” He gave her a hard look, not a cold or cruel one but it was like he was trying to decide something. “And you, bit a kid's ear back in high school?” He smirked.

“Only a little.” At the mere mentioning of the memory, Roman grinned a dark grin.

He seemed to have made up his mind about what to tell her because he handed her more fruit and began speaking again.

“His men were trespassing on my territory, so I interrogated them.”

Interrogated.

“You mean tortured.”

Now he wore no smile, just a strangely detached expression that communicated just, nothing. “I had to send a message. Cobblepot was responding in his own way, I don’t usually send men back alive once they've crossed me. It was a bit out of character.”

“Is he going to come back?”

“Not if he’s smart, he won’t.” He sighed and laid on his side, “But it doesn't mean we’re out of the woods yet, in fact, now that he knows how important you are to me things are only going to get harder.” She stayed quiet on that last note, “You’re not going home.”

She wanted to argue and he knew it, her lips went to form a reply but ultimately her brain caught up with her mouth, and she nodded. Understanding that his concerns had more to do with the practicality of the situation and less about his possessive tendencies.

“That's the third time I know of that a man has broken in, not sure how I’ll ever sleep there again.”

“I had Zsasz make some calls to some shops for some things for you, I’m not going to have you wearing anything Cobblepot or his men might have touched.”

There was such a venomous tone to his voice just then and it should have scared her, but after today, Roman seemed like the lesser of the two evils. And in a way, she understood where he had been coming from, she wasn’t sure she wanted to wear any of it either. She stopped eating and stared off into space, maybe thinking of all the things that had gone on in her apartment in her absence and she shuddered.

“Keep eating, angel.”

“Am I in danger?”

He didn’t answer right away, “Yes.” She already knew the answer, but somehow she just needed to hear it from him, maybe because if Roman took something seriously then somehow it was comforting because he didn’t fuck around.

“Which is why things are going to change.” He suddenly became very serious and he sat up and reached forward to grasp her chin “You are never to leave my side, not even to that little bodega Ernies, no more mysterious motorcycle rides either. And don’t you ever pull a stunt like this again.”

“Don’t give me a reason to.” The expression ‘Don’t bite the hand that feeds you’ should have kept her silent but it didn’t, was she scared? Shitless. Did that make her spineless? Hell no.

“Angel, I don’t think you realize the gravity of our current situation. I came to your place in force with a dozen of my best-armed men and Cobblepot knows I’ll did it to protect you. My own men know that and let's just say they've never seen me hold a door open for a woman much less call up an armed assault. And I’ve certainly never carried an unconscious woman in my arms before.”

She started to smile but Roman's hard expression stopped her.

“There's going to be doubts I’ll have to quiet, people questioning me and my effectiveness. I’m going to have to make some examples. Painful, messy ones. So you’re going ot have to put a bandaid on that bleeding heart of yours.”

“The rules of our agreement have to change.” Now she looked like she might fight him but he stopped her.

“Never question me in front of any of my men. Ever. Don’t even talk back, nothing that might be construed as you having any sort of control over me, because if you do; I’m going to have to kill a lot of people to prove that you don’t.”

That stopped her, she didn’t know Romans men or what kind of men they were but she didn’t want any more blood on her hands.

“Things are going to get even more unsafe and more violent, which is why you can’t leave me, ever. Understand?”

When he said ‘you can’t leave me, ever,’ his voice did a funny thing, so subtle she almost missed it, there was the tiniest hint of pleading in his voice, like something desperate and quivering, then in an instant, it was gone. She nodded and looked to the ground briefly, only to be brought right back to Romans gaze by his grip on her chin, his thumb brushing her lip almost lovingly.

“You have to listen to me.”

“I promise.”

“You're going to have to learn to look the other way or ask me far fewer questions. Understand?” She nodded, not liking the picture he was painting but also realizing there was little other choice.

"Roman, about today—" she started hesitantly, but he cut her off with a shake of his head.

"Enough about that. I have a lead on your mother," he said, effectively changing the subject. “It’s going to take some finessing but I’ve got Zsasz on it and I’ll know more within the week,”

The mention of her mother made her heart skip a beat. Had he found her already? How? She didn’t care and his confession prompted her to all but crawl into his lap leaning in for a kiss. There was every chance he was just saying it to keep her nice and calm and pliant, he could very well have been lying, but it didn't make sense. Roman was very protective about his reputation as a fairly honest criminal so when he said he had a lead on her mother, she believed him.

He accepted her kiss with little resistance but he clearly wasn’t expecting it, allowing her to lead the way with slow and smoldering movements. Surprisingly, his lips were soft and gentle against hers contrasting with the dangerous aura he had previously exuded.

But what surprised her even more was his docile behavior; he didn't try to take control or rush the pace. He seemed content to savor the pomegranate juice that lingered on her lips as they moved over his and her tongue dipped into his mouth.

Finally and with some effort, he pulled back from Belladonna’s almost feral advance, his voice a bit breathless and sounding like he was teetering on the edge of some invisible boundary, "Angel, doctor's orders," Roman reminded her as gently as he could manage.

She remembered his warning from the week prior, when he said ‘no’ he meant it and it had been an uncomfortable lesson and experience, her fingers curled in his hair as she pressed herself against him for one last deep kiss.

"I know I'm irresistible, but really, the doctor did say to rest," he teased. He held up more of the crimson fruit, “Keep eating.”

She took the seeds and sat back down. "Any more questions?" he asked.

“What now?”

“Now? We’re moving in together.” She blanched and shot him a panicked look, “Relax kitten, just until I sort out your apartment situation.”

“What's to sort out?

“Well security, obviously. And your place has been broken into four times, not three.” She looked like she was about to say something but he kept talking, “Need to sweep it for any listening devices or cameras that I didn’t put there before I let you go back.

“I knew it,” Roman winked at her.

“Until that's all settled, I’ll see to it you have anything you need, but for now, you stay here; where I know you’re safe.”

His choice of words in saying ‘I know you’re safe’ as opposed to 'where I can keep an eye on you’ settled over her with an odd sense of finality and comfort.

“Might just have you stay here till I wrap things up with Jimmy though, got a few things in the works for that too.”

What did he mean? Jimmy was dead, what sort of plans could he possibly have for a dead man? She started to speak but he placed his hand over her lips, “No, angel, not this. Can’t tell you this. It gives you plausible deniability.”

How oddly considerate of him? She smirked, lightly pressing her lips to his fingertips. He promptly withdrew them, maybe doubting his ability to adhere to his own suggestion of following the doctor's orders of avoiding strenuous activity.

"Earlier, you told me I was replaceable," Belladonna reminded him, her tone challenging. Roman gave her a hard look, unwilling to discuss it further. "But you seem to be pulling all the stops out for me," she pushed.

"Angel, you haven't seen anything yet," he answered cryptically, his dark eyes promising protection, possession, and a future rife with uncertainty.

The room seemed to swallow them as Roman and Belladonna fell into a heavy silence, she didn’t feel the need to ask any further questions, or maybe because she just couldn’t think of any.

"So who has pomegranates lying around instead of apples?"

"Someone with refined taste. You should expand your palate, Belladonna. Pomegranates are considered the fruit of the gods.” She eyed him skeptically. “The pomegranate holds great significance. Some even believe it was a pomegranate, not an apple, that Eve ate in the Garden of Eden. And it was the pomegranate that Persephone ate to become the queen of the underworld in the love story of Hades and Persephone."

"Wait," Belladonna interjected, her brow furrowing. "You mean the pomegranate Hades forced her to eat after he kidnapped her?"

Roman tutted, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Belladonna, you're half-Greek; you should know your mythology better. There are theories that suggest Hades and Persephone had a passionate romance and she willingly went with him, just as much evidence as there is for his supposed kidnapping." There was an odd cheekiness to his expression, as though he was trying to make some coded reference.

He offered her another piece of the fruit, but she eyed it suspiciously. Roman smirked.

"It's too late. You're already trapped in my underworld until the investigation is done. You may as well enjoy the food."

It was fascinating how easily Roman could slip between personas - one moment the charming owner of Masquerade Noir, able to entertain and entice, and the next a cold-blooded criminal who had shown mercy by only cutting off a man's ear. The portrait of Roman lounging on his side on a luxurious bed, in a black shirt with a few buttons undone, black slacks, casually eating a pomegranate was quickly burning itself into her brain. He looked so normal.

"How did you know I'm hypoglycemic?"

Roman gave her a mysterious look, his eyes dark and unreadable raising his browns suggestively. "I have eyes everywhere."

"Like my bedroom?"

"Especially in your bedroom," he replied smoothly. "How else would I know about that little purple toy of yours?"

His teasing was less annoying and now more charming in its own odd way, and whereas before she might have ignored it or gotten irritated, she opted to give it right back to him.

“Guess, you didn’t find the big black one…”

Romans expression quickly fell and he didn’t look as amused as she was, but after he noted the upturn of her lips, he shook his head and finally answered her question.

"I did extensive research on you after we met. I know all about that fight with you and Olivia Danvers when you were sixteen and you’ve got one hell of a right hook.” Belladonna smirked a little bit at the memory. “It’s clear that you could have been valedictorian if not for that D on your senior chemistry final and your Spanish class, Eso no es bueno, ángel.”

Roman knowing Spanish wasn’t surprising but then it kind of was, he wasn’t stupid, no, Roman had proved time and time again that he was highly intelligent. But it just seemed such a… frivolous thing, to speak another language, like, it was such a normal thing, for normal people. But she quickly reminded herself that was stupid. Belladonna herself was trilingual, adding Greek, Italian, and Latin to her repertoire.

“I know how you switched majors halfway through college from business management to photography and graphic design even though you can’t really stand either one and I know all about the attack last year,” His tone dropped at the mention of her attack and he offered no particular insights on it. “But no one’s perfect, because despite how deep I dug, I somehow missed that little tidbit." Roman admitted with a hint of annoyance. "But Daisy clued me in after I sweet-talked it out of her."

Yeah, Daisy, that sounded about right. It wasn’t exactly privileged information, and she had no doubt there wasn’t much Roman couldn't sweet talk Daisy out of.

"I was diagnosed after the attack last year. It was hard to want to eat anything, didn’t sleep much." Belladonna said, "Guess I should thank you,"

His cocky demeanor returned in full force as sat up and he scooted closer, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “But how will you thank me?”

“Don’t get cocky, you’re still in la casita del perro in my book, you’ll be lucky if you get another kiss.”

Roman chuckled, undeterred, seeing her challenge as an invitation. He closed the distance between them, his breath warm against her skin as he whispered seductively, “Oh, really?”

"I can be very persuasive. And it seems to be working." Their lips barely brushed, a tantalizing tease of what could be. "Admit it, you've wanted to kiss me since the moment I rode in on my dark horse, saving the day that night in the back of my club with Jimmy."

That was certainly one way to put their meeting, if not a little skewed, it almost sounded romantic, and she couldn't resist teasing him. With a playful smirk, she grabbed his chin and planted a simple kiss, it wasn’t what he wanted, she knew that but he’d already shut her down when she was practically climbing on top of him.

"Is that all I get?" he asked, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"You'll get what I give you, and you'll like it.”

The door to the bedroom swung open and the scent of spicy Thai food quickly filled the air, mingling with the lingering tension between Roman and Belladonna. Zsasz strode into the room carrying takeout bags in both hands. He seemed to have returned faster than expected, much to Roman’s dismay, but then again, Zsasz was more often than not, more punctual than a Swiss watch. It also helped that he cut quite the intimidating figure and Belladonna wouldn’t have been surprised if people had jumped out of line upon seeing him.

“Cockblocked by the doctor's orders… and Thai food.”

Roman grumbled, finally tearing his gaze away from Belladonna and taking the food from Zsasz. A flicker of warmth flashed across Zsasz's usually cold eyes as he handed over the bags to Roman. It was a brief, unexpected moment that caught Belladonna off guard. Then with a curt nod that carried an unusual ease to it, Zsasz took a bag and disappeared. Was she beginning to grow on him?

Roman settled back onto the bed and produced several takeout boxes with enticing aromas that could only come from a yāy’s soulful cooking. Bold spices, succulent roasted meats, and hints of coconut. He handed her one box filled with Thai green chicken curry and rice, and another containing papaya salad. To her surprise, there was even a small container of mango sticky rice for dessert. She didn't bother asking how he knew her favorite dishes; his answer would probably involve some vague explanation about being "all-knowing."

As they ate, she watched Roman open his own container of Thai basil chicken, captivated by the movement of his jaw as he chewed, before drifting to Roman's strong hands, deftly maneuvering the chopsticks to pick up a piece of chicken. She had seen those same hands clenched in anger, and wrapped around a gun with deadly precision. Yet, here they were, sharing a simple meal together. Life was certainly dealing her some strange cards lately.

Here she was in Romans bed, after having briefly been held hostage in her own apartment, and being saved by her own knight on a dark horse, as he had dubbed himself. Eating Thai food, like any normal couple might, Roman lounging in a casual manner that Belladonna had never seen before using chopsticks like a pro. He seemed more like just a man eating Thai food with her than the dangerous figure she knew him to be.

"So, no Netflix?"

"The beds for sleeping, not Netflix," Roman replied playfully, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You should be glad I'm letting you eat in my bed at all."

“You don’t ever eat in bed?

"No," he replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "I eat at a table like a civilized criminal." His tone was light, teasing even, and Belladonna couldn't help but let out a surprised laugh. Was he making an honest joke? No dark undertones? Guess there was a first for everything.

“The only thing that gets eaten in this bed is pussy.” There it was. He couldn’t let it go, but a sex joke was better than a dark one, she supposed.

Belladonna glanced down at her box, a vibrant array of colorful vegetables and steaming rice accompanying the spicy chicken that filled her senses with a mixture of comfort and warmth. She hesitated for a moment before looking up to meet Roman's unwavering gaze. The dim lighting of his bedroom cast shadows across his chiseled features, accentuating the intensity behind his dark eyes.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever really know you," she admitted, her voice laced with vulnerability. It was a thought that had been gnawing at her ever since they'd gotten involved with each other – an unsettling feeling that there was always more beneath the surface. “You’re like a puzzle with no picture.”

A smug grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, I'm a puzzle, am I?" he asked, the playful tone in his voice belying the weight of her words. "How many pieces? I'm at least 10,000 pieces."

Belladonna couldn't help but smile at his lighthearted response, even as the unease continued to churn within her. As much as she wanted to believe that she could understand him, she knew deep down that there were aspects of his life that she never would.

"More like a Rubik's star cube," Belladonna countered, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she looked at Roman.

Roman raised an eyebrow, clearly appreciating the challenge. "Ah, one of those, huh? Well, I suppose that makes me even more intriguing."

"Alright, then," Roman said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. "Why don't you ask me something? Anything you want. Consider it your first move in solving this puzzle."

"It’s all just games to you, isn’t it?"

"Trust me, angel. I never play games with what's mine," he replied, his gaze never wavering from hers.

"Yours?" she echoed, feeling both a sense of belonging and unease at his words.

"Undeniably,"

——

The concept of moonlight illuminating a sleeping lovers form while they slept was bullshit, stupid and cliche. So was the idea of longingly looking at them, as if moonlight was a magic highlighter that drew attention to all the details that you never noticed before.

He always thought the moonlight at night thing only worked because the person you were looking at had finally shut up. He didn’t need the magic of a planet fragment reflecting light to draw his eye to Belladonna's hourglass form, he didn’t need it to draw his attention to the swell of her hips, the full lips he wanted to taste, that long black hair he wanted to use to direct her, or the curve of her breasts he wanted to touch. No, he could appreciate those things in broad daylight, the low light of his club or the artificial light of her studio while she worked.

But that’s exactly what Roman was doing

Fuck it, the moonlight was doing its job, casting that magical soft glow on Belladonna's peaceful face as she slept. And Roman lay next to her, wide awake, his dark eyes studying her delicate features. It was the first time he'd ever allowed a woman to share his bed without sex being involved, and strangely enough, he found himself not minding much. People were interesting to watch when they slept, Belladonna, for instance, was lying on her side with one arm embracing her pillow and her knees slightly drawn up towards her chest. It wasn't quite the fetal position, but she wasn't sprawling out either, and Roman couldn't blame her. She didn’t sprawl out and take up more of the bed than she should, didn’t hog the blankets leaving him to freeze his ass off, and she wasn’t one of those types who tried to suffocate him by clinging to him like a lovesick teenager.

That wasn’t Belladonna though.

Roman's interests were about as varied as the weather, but he always found the way people slept to be fascinating. It was like a secret language they couldn’t help but speak. Belladonna's sleeping habits, in particular, caught his attention. They suggested she was guarded and lacked a sense of security or comfort.

As for Roman himself, he usually slept on his back with his arms at his sides. He didn’t move around much unless he was really stressed. Occasionally, he might flop onto his stomach and bury his head in the pillow, but that was rare. He didn’t like how exposed he felt sleeping on his stomach, even if it was comfy as hell.

As for Zsasz, well, he had never seen Zsasz sleep but he was fairly certain if Zsasz slept at all, he slept like a vampire and he hadn’t ruled out the possibility of a coffin.

The whole situation was an odd one for him. Sure he’d let women sleep in his bed but more often than not it was only because he was too tired to kick them out right away. He’d let them sleep and then send them on their way to that glorious walk of shame home, in the clothes they’d worn the night before, covered in the marks he’d left on them, both seen and unseen. And really, even if he was tired, he would have much rather they leave as soon as he was done with them. His only real motivating factor behind letting them stay was the possibility of a morning blowjob. What man didn’t love waking up and having his dick sucked before breakfast?

His late-night musings were interrupted by a quiet presence at the door, Zsasz lingered just outside the room, he gave Roman a nod and Roman slipped from the bed's warmth.

"Got something."

Roman followed Zsasz to his study, where they reviewed the security footage from Belladonna's loft. The screen flickered to life, revealing Cobblepot's arrival and the entire conversation between him and Belladonna. Roman clenched his jaw, anger simmering beneath the surface.

It was the first time he’d watched the footage and it was just as she’d said earlier and although it infuriated him, he had to admit; he’d never been more impressed by a woman. Her voice hardly shook but he could hear it, there were no tears and she wasn’t frantic when she put the phone down after a finally failed attempt at reaching Roman. His lip twitched in a sneer when he thought of how many times she’d tried calling him and how calm she’d been throughout the whole thing and in a rare moment, he felt like shit.

He’d told her he’d take care of her so long as she was with him and he didn’t. In fact, he’d acted like some shithead teenager. It angered him but not as much as the moment Cobblepot offered a bullshit apology to Belladonna before directing one of his men to shoot her in the chest as opposed to the back of her head. Even still, she didn’t move, she didn’t cower, didn’t plead, didn’t cry. Nothing.

Solid as a statue, only closing her eyes. He knew grown men who wouldn’t have handled having a gun pointed at them half as well as she had.

"Reach out to Cobblepot's associates," he instructed Zsasz, his voice cold and controlled. As much as he didn’t like Cobblepot he wasn’t so stupid as to go on the warpath. "Set up a formal sit-down. No more surprise visits from him, I need to know how he's connected to all this and how Jimmy came to have his stuff if he didn’t work for him."

He didn’t much like Cobblepot but it would be idiotic to make him an enemy rather than a strained acquaintance.

"Arrange for new security measures at her loft, after it’s been cleared," Roman ordered, dismissing Zsasz's unspoken concerns. "She'll stay with me until everything is in place. Did you call the shoppers?” Zsasz nodded, “Good, make sure she has whatever she needs."

As Roman contemplated their situation, he found himself recalling the myth of Hades and Persephone—a tale that seemed to mirror his own relationship with Belladonna.

"Who is our Demeter?" he muttered, leaving Zsasz slightly confused, but not surprised. Roman often spoke in cryptic references that made sense only to him.

"Been keeping tabs on her father like you asked. Doesn't seem like he's actively involved in any major schemes anymore. Looks like he's content living off the family fortune," Zsasz reported, his tone matter-of-fact. "But I found something interesting while I was looking into him. Belladonna is the only heir to the family estate, assuming her father doesn’t blow it all. And he doesn’t seem too keen on her having much of it to herself based on the stipulations required for her to get access to her inheritance." Roman's interest piqued at the mention of Belladonna's wealth.

"She's entitled to half the estate according to her grandfather's will. However, her share is currently tied up due to certain conditions she hasn't fulfilled yet."

"What conditions?" Roman inquired, intrigued by the complexity of the situation.

"There are two options. Either her father passes away under circumstances deemed non-suspicious, and the inheritance is released once the investigation is concluded," Zsasz explained.

Roman smirked, that could certainly be arranged.

"Or she ties the knot." Zsasz's voice held a hint of amusement. "In that case, the money essentially falls under her husband's control, to be distributed at his discretion."

Roman's eyes narrowed with disdain. "So her fortune hinges on marriage. How... quaint."

“Tale as old as time.”

“Pathetic.” Roman shook his head at the man's manipulations. "I'll pay him a visit soon enough. What about her mother, what did you find?"

"Maria Lopez," Zsasz announced, handing Roman a medical file.

Roman pulled a confused face, that wasn’t her mothers’ name. It was Caruso, not Lopez.

“She's tucked away in a top-tier facility in Metropolis, specifically tailored for clients grappling with significant trauma." Zsasz made air quotes around the term 'significant trauma,' his tone dripping with skepticism.

“Why Metropolis?” Zsasz shrugged.

“Probably because it's not in Gotham. Makes her harder to find, especially if Belladonna was trying to keep a low profile.”

Roman nodded for Zsasz to continue as he looked through Maria’s file. He didn’t ask Zsasz how he got ahold of privileged medical records; some things were better left unsaid. But based on what Roman was looking at, it was all doctored up and as authentic as a spring breakers driver's license.

"The alias is completely disconnected from anyone in Belladonna's family,”

“Who pays for it?” Roman asked, his voice low and tense as he looked at Maria's photograph, fixated on the sorrowful expression in her gaze.

She looked nothing like the woman he had imagined; she appeared exhausted, fragile, and hollow inside, though the resemblance was striking. Belladonna got her looks from her mother, no doubt. He suddenly understood how bad of a situation Maria must have found herself in as a young immigrant worker to a man like Benjamin Syrus Black. The predatory nature of it disgusted him, her mother was sixteen when she’d become pregnant with Belladonna, barely a woman. Not even a woman by his standards.

“A numbered bank account. Easy enough to set up, probably had a lawyer do it."

"So, no paper trail leading back to her old man. Jesus. No wonder Belladonna couldn't track her down,"

Roman remarked with a hint of disdain. The records spoke of years of physical trauma as well as several psychiatric conditions ranging from bipolar disorder to schizophrenia. He threw the file onto the table, sending papers scattering across the surface.

“This reads like a dossier of Arkham's most dangerous inmates; bi-polar disorder, paranoid schizophrenia, dementia, dissociative identity disorder, psychotic depression, PTSD,”

Roman looked back and forth from several documents but he seemed to be studying their headers, logos and signatures as much as he was reading the diagnosis and treatment history. It was a chaotic mess.

“These diagnoses contradict each other. Bet money no one was paying attention when she was admitted."

"Even if she somehow found her mother now, there's no way she could get her released, probably wouldn’t even be allowed to visit her."

Zsasz nodded grimly in agreement. "But on the bright side, this gives us leverage over whoever is treating her. If they want to keep this quiet, they won’t involve the police." A sly smile spread across Roman's face.

Roman smirked at Zsasz, “Maybe they just need a good scare.”

“Pain is scary,” Zsasz said with a smile.

"We'll need to take a trip to Metropolis soon. But before we do, make sure you dig up every detail possible on the doctors in charge of her care and anyone involved in her admission. I want it all. I won't tolerate any more surprises."

Zsasz nodded, “Got it.”

“I’m going to bed.” His voice dripped with deadly intent as he tossed the file back onto the desk and turned, stalking off toward his bedroom.

Roman crawled back into his bed and looked over to the side he usually slept on, Belladonna had her back to him, she had rolled over in her sleep and he found himself staring at a scar on her back. Long and jagged, one that had taken over thirty sutures to close, his lip curled up when he thought about how it got there. The tip of his finger had barely brushed against her skin when she turned over and curled closer to him, not close enough to nestle in his arms but close enough he could leisurely touch her, his hand slipped from her shoulder down the curve of her side before settling on her hip. She made a little noise of contentment and scooted a bit closer. Stans words to him played over in his head as sleepiness began to gently tug at him.

“She could be good for, Roman,”

Roman just smirked, shook his head then pulled his hand away and folded his pillow over, eventually drifting off to sleep.

—-

Belladonna slowly blinked awake, the cool space beside her a stark contrast to the warmth she craved. This time, when she woke up in Roman’s bed she felt no panic, in fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so well. Sure, she wouldn’t have minded staying in bed, rolling over, and going back to sleep but the sunlight streaming in from the window made that hard. She sat up and stretched, disentangling the sheets that had twisted around her legs, searching the room for any trace of Roman.

The faint sound of running water drew her towards the bathroom door, which was slightly ajar. With careful steps, she approached, peeking inside to find Roman at the sink. He stood tall, only a black towel wrapped around his waist, traces of shaving cream on his jawline as he focused on his steam-framed reflection.

She held her breath, captivated by the oddly domestic sight of Roman. Despite their closeness, she had never seen him so undressed, always shrouded in mystery and tailored suits. His broad muscular back bore was a blank canvas, surprisingly devoid of tattoos, she hadn’t exactly expected any as they didn't seem like they fit his personality. She only saw maybe two faded scars, one looked like a knife wound and another maybe a bullet, he certainly wasn’t covered in them like Zsasz was. She couldn't help but let her gaze linger on the edge of the towel, if only he wasn’t so paranoid...

"Roman had me get some things for you for work," Zsasz's voice broke the moment as he entered with a garment bag. Startled, Belladonna jumped with a startled gasp and stepped back, feeling a flush of embarrassment. But it was too late, when she changed a glance over her shoulder Roman met her gaze with a smirk and a freshly shaven face.

A knowing grin playing on his lips. Her heart quickened, realizing she had been caught off guard, a rarity she tried to avoid.

“Time for work angel,”

Fifteen

---

Little R&R Roman style? I know, I'm a tease... Sorry guys, stay tuned the spice is coming soon...!

@keffirinne @daenerys-skywalker @supernatural-lover

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greywolfheirs · 6 months

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Writing Lokius instead of finishing my NaNoWriMo story, pt2

“Mobius.”

Loki watched as Mobius blinked at him. Watched the understanding dawn on him that yes, indeed, Loki was actually here.

“Loki?” he asked, because he still wasn’t entirely certain.

“Yes, Mobius, it’s me,” Loki confirmed. It was evidence of his new self-discipline that he didn’t reach out to Mobius in the way that his entire body was screaming at him to do. “I figured out how to maintain the timelines without having to physically be there. I can’t stay long, but I needed to see you. I had to–”

Loki had been so focused on just being here with Mobius that during his explanation, he hadn’t noticed the man himself moving closer until his arms were around Loki in a tight embrace.

“I missed you,” Mobius murmured into Loki’s shoulder.

Loki returned the hug with a sigh. “I know.”

He did know, of course. He’d watched Mobius’s distracted expressions, saw the cloud of sadness follow him everywhere, heard the defeat in his voice every time he spoke. But Loki was here now, for a moment, to show him that all was not lost.

What Loki did not know–or, at the very least, didn’t expect–was Mobius breaking the hug to give him a punch to his chest.

“Ow!” Loki exclaimed, rubbing the soreness away. It had genuinely hurt, fist landing directly on his sternum. “What was that for?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” Mobius hissed. His eyes were red, cheeks still damp from the tears, but he was also angry. “Especially if you don’t know what that was for. Sacrificing yourself? Really?”

“Wh-” Loki shook his head. “I did it to save the universe. To save all of you! Everything would have been destroyed. It was the only way.”

“Yeah, but you could have told me about it,” Mobius said petulantly, hands on his hips in a classic Mobius pose. “You didn’t have to leave me in the dark.”

“If I told you what I was doing, you would have stopped me,” Loki wasn’t sure why he was being so defensive. He’d made a very informed decision that he wouldn’t take back for anything. That should have been enough. “Trust me, I went through every scenario.”

“Yeah, well, it sucked,” Mobius said weakly, refusing to let the fire go out. Softer, he added, “I lost you.”

Loki stepped forward to put his hands on Mobius’s shoulders. “If there had been another way–Any other way…”

“I know,” Mobius muttered, turning to look away. “I know that.”

Loki couldn’t stand Mobius not looking him in the eye anymore, so he gently cupped the man’s face. But he’d made a miscalculation. Seeing the emotion in those eyes–those beautiful, sky-colored eyes–made it impossible to resist the urge to lean forward and kiss him.

Loki expected Mobius to recoil, but it was a ridiculous notion, borne of lingering self-doubt. Of course Mobius wouldn’t pull away. He’d just admitted he hated a life without Loki, hadn’t he? In reality, Mobius was pressing forward just before Loki’s mouth connected with his. In reality, Mobius was just as desperate for their kiss as Loki had been. In reality–any reality–Mobius would never recoil from Loki.

Their kiss was a passionate one, filled with overdue emotion spilling over, yet it remained chaste. As if they had all the time in the world. And, in a way, they did. Mobius made a soft noise when Loki’s fingers drifted to the back of his head to cradle it softly, and Loki never wanted to hear any other sound in his life. This, right here, was what it felt like to have the entire universe fall away, leaving nothing but warmth and comfort and home.

When they parted–just barely, just enough to breathe–Loki kept his eyes closed a second longer, savoring the feeling. But meeting Mobius’s gaze again was just as wonderful in its own way. Loki pressed their foreheads together, too overwhelmed for words.

“Hi,” Mobius laughed, because the motion had been a bit too overeager, nearly causing them to tilt over.

“Hi,” Loki said back easily. He began tracing Mobius’s cheek with his thumb. Then his jaw. Then his bottom lip, Mobius’s mouth dropping open just a bit at the touch. Loki let out a contented sigh. “I missed you so much.”

Mobius huffed another laugh, “That’s my line.”

Loki pressed forward for another kiss, much shorter this time, but no less meaningful. “I need to return to the timelines.” He chuckled as Mobius’s grip on his waist tightened. “I’ll come back soon.”

“Promise?” Mobius scanned Loki’s face like he was trying to memorize it.

“I promise,” Loki said, sealing the promise with a kiss. “I’ll always come back to you.”

Mobius nodded and kissed Loki again before reluctantly pulling back. He forced a watery smile. “I’m holding you to that. See you soon.”

“See you soon,” Loki said. A universe didn’t exist in which Loki failed to keep that promise.

#loki series #lokius #mcu fanfic #i couldn't leave that finale without writing their reunion #my writing #the grey wolf writes

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fineapplequeen · 9 months

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Mweheheh I just cooked up a sans oc like my life depended on it, he's absolutely fabulous (im bias) and traumatized (im cruel)

It's a bit of a read, 2,000 words just his backstory, but here he is :) Raw and his rave parasite

This follows a timeline where Sans is being guided by Gaster to become the next head scientist, being created by Gaster in the lab and told this was his purpose in life, to continue Gaster's legacy and work towards building a harvesting machine in the labs that could potentially harness the entire undergrounds magic and break the barrier.

At the time, Sans followed along, not knowing much about the underground, and quite shy when it came to those who visited the lab. The King would often visit, kinder and softer toned than Gaster, the King spoke of two children he had and offered Gaster to set up playdates with all the kids. Gaster found it irking that the King was meddling with his projects affairs but he allowed it, only in their down time for a couple hours every week.

Sans, a child at the time, was confused when the King guided them to the castle the first time, with Gaster following along. Life for Sans was work. All he knew was the walls of the lab and the cameras showing what was outside. It never occurred to him there was anything beyond the camera points- having thought they were each separate rooms enclosed like he was.

The ride up to the castle from the elevator was dull, Sans completely unsure of why they were doing a play date in the first place. Sans was technically 'in stripes' at the time, but he wasn't made to have friends.

Things began to change when he met the two children called Asriel and Chara.

At first they were simply annoying, and Sans had a hard time connecting to the two who were pranksters, running around and conjoined at the hip nearly as they masterfully planned their mischief- dragging Sans along for the ride.

He didn't get it. Not at first anyways. The jokes were always on nearby monsters, harmless, just to cause a silly reaction for them to laugh at. Sans stood by their side, feeling more like a babysitter than an accomplice. That changed the day the two told Sans of their new plan- to prank Gaster. It made him nervous, Gaster was a serious monster. The two children claimed he would find it funny though- and so Sans agreed, a small bubbling in his chest when they successfully pranked Gaster and for the first time- Sans laughed.

It was one of the more sillier pranks they've done and Sans helped with the height issue, using his magic to stick saran wrap to the door at Gaster's height. Seeing him walk through it and make such a face made Sans double over, the best part, Gaster didn't get mad like he thought he would. The King had come to check why all the children were laughing, chuckling when Gaster explained what had happened and they both had a laugh. From then on though, Sans never got over that high, finding himself doing little harmless pranks in the lab too- as long as it didn't interfere with work. Gaster seemed to tolerate it, for a little while, up until Sans took it into their work life too.

That's when Gaster had enough. For the first time since Sans was created, Sans got in trouble, grounded to his room for a couple of weeks, not able to work or play with his new found friends. It could have been worse- but for Sans, this was the worst. Seeing Gaster so disappointed, those enraged eyelights staring down at him, calling Sans outrageous and childish- but to Sans's defense, he was a child. He just learned how to have a smidge of fun for the first time but Gaster forbade any more pranks from then on, and lessened Sans's visits with his friends in order to work more.

Sans was told to study more, tasked with furthering himself for science while Gaster tested him at every turn.

It was just another week, a couple days after visiting Asriel and Chara that things took a sharp turn and Sans learned the meaning of loss. Both royal children died overnight.

Gaster and him both came to the funeral for the children, monsters shuffling to the castle in hoards to mourn the loss of two innocent lives. It was then, walking past the house they used to play in, down the halls of the castle, shuffling through golden doors to a longer hallway with stained glass windows, basking everyone in warm glows from Hotland, Sans felt something sneak inside of him.

It curled and nestled, warmer than anything he had ever felt, and it filled his thoughts, whispering to him, calling to him.

Judgment.

Gaster's grip on his shoulder tightened and Sans looked up, eyelights burning in gold and teal. Gaster looked down at him, and without a second thought, looked away, grip still as tight and face tense.

Sans looked forward, sockets large.

It was as if peering into the depths of Gaster's soul when they made eye contact, Sans had plummeted and emerged in milliseconds, and somehow knew everything about his creator in that time. Not everything, but his very status and what he was thinking. It was the same with any other monster he made eye contact with from there on out... and it scared him.

Things changed. Sans was given a gift, said the King. Passed down from the dead child Asriel, Sans was given the gift of Judgement... and he hated it.

Gaster was even tougher as the years passed. The King came by more often as The Queen had disappeared in her grief. Sans was taught everything by the two older monsters, from a Judge's job to being the next royal scientist.

It was overwhelming. It was soul shattering to most.

Sans was not most.

He grew up. Isolated, tired, sad. He stayed strong... and sometimes... sometimes, he left. He left the lab, wandering the quiet parts of the underground, watching the lives of those living and pulling pranks in the dark, watching the silly reactions of monsters, those never knowing that he was behind them. Sans grew stronger in those moments, and lonelier.

Gaster eventually found out. He always eventually figured things out when it came to Sans- it led to an explosive argument and for the first time in his life... Sans used his Judgment abilities on Gaster... and hurt him. Then. He ran away.

Sans ran. No goal in mind but to escape. He was fearful of the consequences despite now being an adult- Gaster was always able to make him feel as small and helpless as a child.

He ran where the light barely reached, where there were no cameras, a dark and damp place in waterfall where echo flowers didn't grow. There he sat, curled up small, trembling from using his Judge abilities- shaking from overpowering the royal scientist. He never knew it could be that easy to push back... and he didn't like how his soul felt afterwards.

Sans was too shaken up from the cold in his soul to feel the coiling around his leg, climbing up his arm- blinking slowly when it reached his neck and whispering to him.

Promises. Reassurances. Hope.

All he had to do was give in...

Sans blinked, his guard lowering. That's all it took.

A slippery being forced itself through his mouth as he tilted his head back, climbing through and assaulting his soul beneath his sternum- leaving sucker marks in its wake- but Sans' defensive rose.

Light poured through the area coming from all of his joints and through his skull- the creature that tried to take him over was melded to his soul, the tentacles coiling around it were unable to retract- as they were a part of it now... and the creature was stuck inside of Sans' skull.

A rave parasite, is what Sans found out it was called; when he woke up from the overuse of burning magic. It had charred him from the inside, his spine and ribs closest to his soul were cracked and blackened, and the creature was shaken up- able to feel what Sans was through their 'bond'. The creature gained emotions- more than it already had, and it gained morality, able to see bits of the past that Sans had lived, able to sense the emotions flowing through him. The creature apologized profusely and gave Sans the reasons why it did what it did, it needed a host and a soul to feed off of.

Neither was sure of what this meant for them...

Neither wanted to seek Gaster out to have him help with this... problem. So. The only logical thing the creature provided was for Sans to just leave. Find someone else who could help them seperate.

Sans was unsure about that until his soul began to buzz faintly- and a glowing rift opened next to them. It was a whole new world of possibilities... and a whole new experience of life itself as Sans opened the gigantic can of worms that was- the multiverse.

Life in the multiverse... was insane. Sans was smart though. He was not one to talk to strangers, unless being witty and laid back about how he went around gathering information. Except. Something was off. Monsters wouldn't look him in the eyes when he talked.

Eventually he figured it out when looking in a mirror. That was not his eye. He could still see out of both sockets- but that was not his eye- and his other... the other socket was dark but there was something... moving around in there...

It was the parasite.

Sans learned to live with it. He didn't like it but they would soon be separated so he pushed on... but the more he searched, he found the smartest in most multiverses to be Gaster- who he didn't want to interact with- nor did he want to interact with alternate versions of himself... he had managed to avoid them altogether.

The parasite found this amusing but didn't tell Sans why... and eventually Sans got tired of being called that name too. Every universe there it was again. Sans. The name Gaster gave him when he was made. Even in universes where Gaster wasn't present- Sans was. And they were smart. Smart enough to figure out they were being watched when the parasite and him risked willing to watch them for a bit to see if they were royal scientists or had any promises of being able to help their fused soul and tentacles... but they were dangerous too.

He no longer wanted the name of Sans, the longer his search continued. He didn't feel like he deserved the name, as silly as it was. He wasn't who he used to be... and he wasn't sure he could ever be that person again. So he came up with a new name for himself.

His name was Raw.

Raw was him and his parasite, the two bonded over the naming process in some dark corner of an alternate waterfall. Raw had begun to lose hope... a very vital thing that made up a monster- and the parasite noticed and offered a distraction.

Everyone needed outlets, everyone needed reasons to see through to the end, everyone needed fun and life experiences- and the parasite offered just the solution, making their soul feel giddy as it showed Raw how to look for a function called a rave.

They were loud. They were obnoxious. They were everything Gaster would have hated- and Raw had never felt more alive than when he went to his first rave- high on the symphony of happy, screaming souls and excitable bumpy music and flashing lights- bodies flailing around and loose, having fun, no one having a care in the world... Raw wished Chara and Asriel had a chance to do this- but they didn't. So he did in their stead. In the middle of searching for a way to seperate himself and the parasite- the two accidentally pushed themselves closer and bonded over their shared fun of these events.

Raw became a being filled with unsettling amounts of magic, fun, and hope. Is newfound joy- bringing that same excitement to new universes that had yet to experience the pure joy life could bring if you just let it. He and the parasite were inseparable, and they were both okay with this fact after a long while.

#undertale au #new sans who dis #he's got that dawg in him aka a parasite #i need to write him so bad #he's serious but oh so goofy #rave parasite #raw sans #rprs #myart

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sustraiii · 3 months

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TEAM ZRCN ARC 4 CHAPTER 16

Cherry, Neela, and Xanthos get more than they bargained for when encountering Maia Astrella.

Xanthos

Wisteria had fallen from a balcony, pulling Miho with her. In all likelihood, Wisteria was very much dead too. Xanthos didn't say it out loud of course - even he knew that was a bit tasteless - but it was something he believed. Even if by some miracle she had survived there was no way she was walking away injury free. If there were any justice in the world for his teammate, maybe she'd have damaged one of her legs.

Still, despite what issues Xanthos had with her - issues likely shared by his teammates - he would have felt bad if she had truly died. She had been an annoying presence when they first encountered each other, but it was hard to ignore how different she had been in recent weeks, as though her spirit had been dampened. In those final moments, she had not cared what had happened to her, she had just wanted Miho. And she had gotten what she wanted in the end. Even if it had potentially come at the cost of her own life.

"What are we going to do if Wisteria is actually dead?" Neela asked. Xanthos was quietly relieved she had asked the question that had been on his mind.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Cherry responded, sighing as she did. “Regardless of what her fate is, I just know there’s going to be a lot of backlash from the higher-ups in the military about it.” And then, in a softer tone, she added, “As if there wasn’t already enough to begin with.”

With everything that had happened with their arrival in Olympia and then reaching the O.R.C.A.S, Xanthos had almost forgotten that Cherry, Elio, and Morgan had all disobeyed orders in coming here. Not only would they be in big trouble with Wren but the General too.

The three of them found a set of stairs and Cherry encouraged them to go down. They weren't sure how they had gotten three floors up with how backwards this place was, but they knew they needed to go down if they wanted to reach Wisteria and Miho. They had made it down two flights of stairs when the sound of a nearby voice gave them pause. Cherry held her hand up for them to stop and then raised a finger to her lips urging them to be silent.

It took a moment for Xanthos to pick up on what was being said, the speaker kept going from loud and clear to a lower mumble.

"Why won't you answer me!?" The speaker suddenly yelled. Whoever the voice belonged to was clearly a woman, and by the tone, she seemed frustrated at something or other.

Xanthos could hear the sound of footsteps but they didn't draw too close. By the repetitive nature of her walking, Xanthos got the impression that she was pacing back and forth.

"Bloody Bianca…couldn't even maintain the connection properly…probably Lunick's fault…useless, useless, USELESS!"

At the woman's growing frustration, Xanthos and Neela shared a worried glance. Xanthos looked at Cherry, trying to see if she had anything to say on the matter, but she only had a furrowed brow and looked deep in thought herself.

The woman stopped pacing and began speaking quietly again. Xanthos had to really focus to hear what she had to say.

"Where are you, Uriah?"

By the mention of the name, Xanthos wondered if the woman they were listening to was his sister, Maia. They knew little about her but Wisteria had at least confirmed that she and Uriah were siblings.

"Let's take her down," Cherry said, gesturing with a flick of her head. "Quietly."

Xanthos and Neela nodded slowly. Cherry led the way, putting her bhuj in its back holster before approaching. Xanthos and Neela followed suit, their own weapons holstered, cautiously looking ahead.

"Maia Astrella?" Cherry called out quietly, quickly drawing the other woman's attention. Maia was a young woman, in her early twenties from what Xanthos could remember, but with a youthful face that made her seem slightly younger. She had pale skin, wavy brown hair, and teal eyes. Although she seemed a bit startled at the call of her name, Xanthos noticed she seemed more curious than scared. One thin brow arched upwards as she studied the three of them. "It is advisable that you come quietly," Cherry continued, speaking with a calm and controlled voice. She took a step towards Maia but the woman took a step back. "This doesn't have to end in a fight."

The reaction from Maia was almost immediate. The curiosity disappeared in a flash, only to be replaced by red hot anger as she pulled out her weapon - a morningstar - and charged. Cherry hadn't pulled her weapon out yet, so narrowly dodged as Maia swung it at her head. Clearly Maia had put some force behind the swing, as whilst it missed Cherry, it got lodged in a nearby wall and she had to fight to try and pull it out.

"You don't have to do this," Cherry pressed. In response, Maia merely growled, putting both hands on the shaft of her weapon and finally tugging it free.

"Piss. Off," Maia spat, stalking towards Cherry again. As she did, Xanthos noticed a pink sheen washing over Cherry, an indication that her semblance was kicking in. Xanthos recalled from a sudden training session that Cherry had hosted for him and Neela that her semblance granted her increased strength when people were emotional in her vicinity. He didn't know if it was intentional but Maia was obviously the perfect battery for that semblance.

Cherry and Maia exchanged a few blows, their weapons clanging off each other, but doing no major damage at the moment. As Xanthos watched, waiting for an opening to step in and help, he noted something odd. Whilst Maia was currently grappling with Cherry, her gaze kept drifting elsewhere…to Neela. And by the look on his friend's face, she had noticed it too.

A heavy blow from Maia against Cherry's bhuj, opened up a window for Maia to strike. For one so small, Xanthos was surprised at how vicious she became. Maia did not relent for a moment, kicking, shoving, punching, and swinging her weapon with dangerous intent. Cherry caught a swift blow to her right hand with Maia's weapon, pulling back with a grimace. Her aura flared dramatically which surprised Xanthos as the strike hadn't seemed that bad.

"How?" Cherry questioned, flexing her injured hand.

Maia grinned and dashed forward, about to swing at her with a downward strike, only to be parried by Cherry quickly raising her bhuj to counter. Maia seemed to falter slightly and desperately tried to pull back. However, she was too slow, as Cherry raised a foot and kicked her sharply in the stomach and sending her sprawling on her back.

Maia quickly righted herself, rising to her feet before Cherry or anyone else could get to her. With three people surrounding her, she seemed a bit unsure of what to do herself. Her gaze lingered on Cherry before shaking her head angrily and looking at Neela and Xanthos. Her eyes narrowed and with a small swish of her hand, she shifted her weapon to an alternate form. Xanthos watched as the spiked head dropped on a chain, turning it from a simple morningstar to a ball and chain weapon.

Her gaze followed Xanthos's downwards and when they met, she gave him a smirk before lunging forward again, this time going straight for her real target - Neela.

Neela lifted her weapon ready to intervene, shifting it from its spear form to a trident. Although she was ready, it was Xanthos who got to Maia first, whipping the ground in front of her to try and halt her movements. It did stop her momentarily but she was quick to continue moving, focused and determined to get to Neela.

Behind Maia they could see Cherry working her way up to her again, giving a gesture to Neela to create some sort of distraction. Neela pulled back her weapon suddenly, which Maia saw as an opportunity to move forward, only for Neela to slam the tip of her weapon into the floor, creating an icy formation where it had struck. Maia pulled back sharply to avoid getting skewered, the sleeve of her jacket tearing on the ice as she tried to shield herself.

“Bitch!” Maia hissed, glaring at Neela.

She was so focused on yelling that she didn’t notice Cherry sneak up and grab her from behind.

Maia genuinely yelped as Cherry got her arm around her and pulled her back. She thrashed around in Cherry’s arms like some sort of wild animal, screaming, kicking, and generally making a lot of noise. Despite Cherry’s best efforts to restrain her, even she could not withstand the wild thrashing. Using her own momentum, Maia managed to plant both of her feet firmly on the ground, leaned forward and then slammed her back into Cherry’s chest. Cherry’s grip slackened as she gasped in surprise and Maia used the opportunity to break free out of her grasp.

Maia would take a few steps forward before turning on her heel and advancing on Cherry again. Although her weapon had fallen to the floor following Cherry’s surprise attack, it didn’t stop the young woman from throwing punch after punch at her. Alarmingly, with every hit Xanthos noted it seemed to be causing more damage, almost as if her attacks were growing in strength.

Cherry eventually got a window to retaliate, throwing up one arm to parry a punch, before using her other hand to land an uppercut against Maia. The other woman staggered back slightly and was then shoved further back by Cherry. Maia yelled something incomprehensible back at Cherry and then tried to punch her again. This time Xanthos noticed that Cherry appeared to almost shrug the hit off. And it seemed by the dawning look of realisation on her face, Cherry realised it too.

“Do not let her grab her weapon!” Cherry ordered, gesturing to Neela who was standing closer to the discarded weapon.

“Oh, you’re sharper than you look,” Maia said mockingly. “Figured it out did you?”

Cherry shrugged. Once again, the two women charged forward, Maia dashing her weapon and Cherry rushing to grab Maia. They got caught in a grapple, Maia fighting hard to break free, and Cherry fighting to keep hold of her. Xanthos could only watch as they grunted and tried to get in small hits against each other.

Cherry eventually managed to get her arms lowered down on Cherry’s body, trying to twist her slightly and pull her to the ground. As she did so, her foot slipped slightly and Maia sensed this weakness and kicked it out with one of her feet causing Cherry to lose her balance. With Cherry’s balance thrown, it was Maia who managed to get her arms around Cherry’s waist, pulling her forward and then throwing her against the stairs she had come down with Xanthos and Neela.

As she landed against the stairs, Cherry landed awkwardly on her back crying out in pain as she did so. Her aura flared up and then promptly broke. Satisfied her work was done, Maia walked away, once again heading for her weapon. Cherry heaved herself off the stairs gingerly, resting on her knees in a defeated lump.

“You have to…” Cherry’s voice trailed off as she fought to regain her breath. “You have to break her aura!”

Xanthos nodded understanding what he needed to do. His golden eyes travelled over to Neela, who nodded back at him, her grip on her weapons tightening. With Cherry down for the count, it was down to the two of them to deal with Maia. Sure, she might have been able to hit hard, but it didn’t seem like she had much in the way of any sort of tactic. That and her aura was likely very low. One or two strong hits would be enough to break potentially.

Having retrieved her weapon, Maia was back up on the offence, but again she seemed primarily focused on Neela. Ironically, that worked out better in Xanthos and Neela’s favour though. Neela could engage her first and keep her distracted, whilst Xanthos could work around them and try and catch her by surprise. He knew they would need a strong hit to break Maia’s aura, and whilst Xanthos did not doubt Neela’s fighting ability, he knew that they would have better luck with his semblance.

A knowing gaze was aimed towards Neela and she nodded, seemingly understanding he was leaving things to her for a moment.

Neela carried herself well as she defended herself from Maia’s violent strikes. Even when not using her weapon in its trident or spear form, and merely using it to block, Neela moved it with expert precision. Maia did manage to get a few small blows on Neela but was parried more often than she managed to break free and land a hit. Clearly, this was frustrating her quite a bit as she started swinging and hitting out wildly, losing what little technique she had.

Finally, it was Xanthos’s time to strike. A quick strike with his whip, managed to stop Maia in her tracks as she tried to go in for another swing. As she turned, Xanthos rushed suddenly, already having used his semblance to alter his weight, meaning that when his punch caught her in the jaw, it hit hard.

So hard, in fact, that Maia ended up going flying backwards again, landing hard on her back. As hoped, as she attempted to sit back up, her teal aura flickered into life and promptly broke.

“Stay down,” Xanthos said, uncharacteristically cold.

Turning away from her, he approached Neela and gave her a small smile, trying to gauge how she was feeling. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m alright,” Neela responded. “A bit sore but otherwise okay. We’re lucky Cherry tired her out.”

Xanthos nodded in agreement. She had a point, had Cherry not worn Maia down, he doubted they would have fared well against her had they tried to take her on individually. Speaking of Cherry, the woman was approaching them now, still walking a bit gingerly but looking a bit brighter than she had when instructing the two of them to break Maia’s aura.

“Nice punch, Ravi,” Cherry complimented. “Elio didn’t teach you that did he? I swear I’ve seen him throw a punch like that.”

“Nope all me,” Xanthos grinned.

Cherry chuckled a little but had to forcibly stop laughing as she was in some discomfort doing so. “I’m going to see if I can reach the others,” Cherry explained, gesturing to her earpiece with a finger. “Probably won’t get through but - oh hey, would you look at that it worked!”

Cherry promptly turned her head away, talking into her earpiece to what sounded like Morgan based on her words, explaining what had happened with Wisteria and Miho and that the three of them had then come across Maia. As she was speaking, Xanthos turned to look back at Maia having seen some movement out of the corner of his eye. The woman had managed to pull herself onto her knees and was now sitting there slightly hunched over mumbling away to herself. Xanthos tried to discern what she was saying, but it honestly just sounded like more of the incomprehensible muttering she had been doing earlier. With a small gesture, he made Neela aware of her talking, but like Xanthos she seemed unable to pick up on anything, merely giving him a shrug. Assuming she was just talking away to herself, Xanthos turned away again, instead focusing back on Cherry. Later he would curse himself for looking away.

“I will not lose another home to a fucking Oxford!”

It wasn’t so much the words that caught his attention, but rather the scraping of Maia’s weapon against the floor, as she recollected her weapon which had fallen when he knocked her down. He heard the sound of a weapon connecting with someone, the sound of pierced flesh, and then a startled gasp. Xanthos remembered Maia’s earlier determination to get to Neela and he turned fully expecting to see her with a morningstar lodged in her body.

To Xanthos’s relief, it was not Neela who was the injured party. It was Maia.

Maia was up on one knee, her weapon raised above her head, as though she were trying to stand up and hit Neela. Unfortunately for her, Neela had reacted quickly and had caught her before she could do any damage. The three prongs of Neela’s trident were wedged in her chest - one prong just below the clavicle, and two just below that. Xanthos tensed up as he took in the gory scene before him. Beside him, Cherry cursed, before hastily disconnecting from the call she had made.

Maia let out a horrible gurgling sound before she dropped her weapon and fell to the side, freeing herself from the trident as she did so.

Neela dropped her trident and quickly rushed to the woman’s side, her hands desperately trying to stem the flow of the heavy bleeding from Maia’s chest.

“No, no, no…” She mumbled as shaky hands tried to cover the wounds.

Xanthos’s heart ached to see her so distressed. He knew Neela would not have intended to kill Maia, though in the situation would have only had moments to react and defend herself.

"Neela," Cherry's voice called out softly. "I don't think-"

"NO!" Neela cried out. “I have to help her! I have to stop this! I didn’t mean - I don’t want her to die!”

Maia was continuing to make such horrible sounds. Not only was her blood steadily pooling around her but she was coughing it up too, leaving bloody spittle on her chin. Sudden gasping sounds could be heard coming from her and it didn’t take an expert to know that these were Maia’s final breaths.

As the light started to fade from her eyes, she had time to mutter one final thing to Neela. “Fucking…Oxfords.”

Her words were swiftly replaced by another gargle before her head lolled to the side and all was still.

“No…NO!” Neela yelled. Xanthos was quite taken aback when she suddenly began shaking the other woman quite violently, as though trying to will some life back into her.

Cherry moved to take a step forward but Xanthos held his hand out to stop her. When her pink eyes bore into him questioningly, he merely shook his head hoping that she would understand that he needed to be the one to comfort his friend.

Xanthos knelt beside his teammate, who looked at him wearily with tears in her eyes. “Nee-”

“Get away from me, Xanthos!”

“Neela, stop, look at me!” Xanthos said, forcefully gripping her shoulders so she would look at him. “She’s gone, Neela. You can’t bring her back.”

Neela shook her head a little. Xanthos wasn’t sure if it was denial or a slow acceptance of what she had done. “I didn’t mean to,” Neela choked out, bottom lip quivering.

His blue-haired teammate leaned forward a bit so her forehead was resting against his shoulder, mindful not to touch him with her bloodied hands. Xanthos carefully manoeuvered one arm around so that he could rest a hand on her back, patting comfortingly.

“I know you didn’t mean to,” Xanthos said. “Neela, it was self-defense. If you didn’t retaliate she could have hurt you or attacked me or Cherry.”

Neela sniffed. “I know, I know, I just wonder if it was the right decision?”

“You acted in the moment to defend yourself and the two of us,” Cherry said, quickly joining the conversation. “Maia’s death is unfortunate but do not fault yourself for defending yourself.”

Neela hiccuped awkwardly into Xanthos's shoulder and he felt her head shifting as if nodding again. There was little else said between the three of them after that. As much as Xanthos wished to continue comforting his teammate, he knew that in her present state, his words were likely to fall on deaf ears. No matter how much he and Cherry tried to assure her it was an accident, Xanthos knew the guilt would linger in his friend for a long time. He could only hope that in time she would forgive herself. For now though, he was content to support her and stand by her side. No matter where this went moving forward, he would be with her through all of it.

#team zrcn fic #team zrcn #neela oxford #xanthos ravindra #cherry linnet #maia astrella

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genderlessghoul · 11 months

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I feel like speaking into the void so here's some of my ghoul headcanons that don't fit the usual fanon I've seen

Multi-elemental ghouls are a lot more common than you'd think. They're usually only connected to 2 elements, with Fire being the most common element to find in a ghoul because well, Hell creatures. Dew is Fire and Water (I love the angst y'all write about Dew's transition but I'm so much softer). Cirrus is Air and Water. Sunshine is Air and Fire. Phantom is Quintessence and Earth. Swiss is literally all of them, which has never happened before and leaves everyone confused when they first meet him.

Ghouls who have connections to more than one elements have that connection divided, making hybrids struggle a bit more than ghouls who have only one connection. Swiss will never admit it, but he's pretty insecure about the fact he's not as good as his mates with his powers due to his many elemental connections.

Quintessence is the rarest element to find in a ghoul, especially ghouls that are not connected to any other elements. Aether and Omega are some of the only ones to be 100% quintessence.

There's a lot more ghouls that live in the abbey than the ones we see on stage, they serve various purposes around the building and its grounds. There's a semi-regular rotation of ghouls, they can usually choose to live top-side for as long as they want if they can make themselves useful.

Ghouls are usually born in Hell but they can also be made, through a very complicated ritual that changes a human into a ghoul. As far as records show, it's only ever happened twice. One of those made ghouls was Dew. It was a last-ditched attempt made to save his life when he fell ill from the Plague many centuries ago. As you can imagine, it was pretty hard for someone who lived in such religious times to adapt to his new reality as a creature of sin.

Rain's been living top-side the longest, he came just a few years before Dew was changed. He misses his home most times but he pretends he wants to stay on Earth for the lakes and such. In reality, he just refuses to leave Dew's side, who's not ready to face Hell, even after centuries of preparations.

Dew insists on working various jobs through the centuries, just to keep in touch with humanity. He loves his mates and he loves the Church, of course, but he began feeling cut off from the world a few years after his transformation. When he's not touring, he works in a coffee shop. None of his mates understand why he even bothers, but he likes watching humanity evolve and getting to interact with the best and worst of it. No one complains too often, they enjoy the discounts on the drinks far too much.

Swiss is the newest ghoul at the Ministry, even after Aurora and Phantom. He wasn't summoned, there was no one in the ritual room when he appeared. No one knows how it happened but they're all sure it has to do with the fact he's the only ghoul in existence to have a connection to all elements.

All of the ghouls living quarters are on ground level and each of their rooms has two sets of windows, one on each side of the bed. Mountain made it his duty to plant each of the ghouls' favourite plant/flower below their windows. Dew's plant of choice was shockingly lavender.

Hell is not a terrible place to the ghouls. Bad things only happen there to the people who deserve it. It's actually pretty lovely to its residents. When Siblings of Sins or one of the Papas die, they become honored guests down below. They're treated with utmost respect for their lifelong devotion to the Church.

Ghouls are not required to wear their mask when walking around out of their designated living quarters. They are however required to keep their glamour on when in presence of any human, rule that's often broken by Omega with Terzo. The only time they're required to wear their full masks and suits is for official events such as masses.

Freshly summoned ghouls have a harder time controlling their powers, the magic on Earth simply doesn't flow the same as the magic of Hell. To help new summons keep their glamour, they're offered a crystal pendent with magical properties. It forces a human disguise onto them. Most find the necklace quite condescending and quickly master their camouflage just to get rid of it. The touring ghouls are still asked to wear it, just to avoid any incident.

I think that's it? Probably not but this post is already way too long. Anyway, thanks for sticking around if you read the whole thing, I've just been having wayyyyyy too much Ghost feels lately.

#the band ghost #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghoul #rain ghost #swiss ghoul #nameless ghouls #swiss ghost #omega ghoul #mountain ghoul

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all-risejd · 1 year

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Puppy Heaven [All Doms Go To Heaven]

Warnings: Puppy Play, if you squint it’s an orgy but not really?, subspace, anal, painting people with cum?, Roman and Damian are both doms?, awkward situations, Paul Heyman is a literal saint, and power play.

Roman Reigns had heard things about how The Judgment Day operated. You didn’t make it this far in pro-wrestling without either realizing how heavily fetishized the subculture was or succumbing to your innermost desires. He also knew well the rumors and startling whispers that circled Damian Priest - so when Paul brought up the tentative partnership Roman hadn’t been sure it was a good idea. They were selling very different versions of the family. But, as always The Wise Man had his points, and so Roman had begrudgingly accepted his logic. Solo massacred Rey Mysterio and the Judgment Day men were doing well against Sami, KO, and Riddle until the LWO got involved - it took too long for the twins and Solo to intercede on behalf of the Judgment Day. But Roman had noticed that Solo was particularly protective of Dom while all four factions were in the ring.

It had reminded Roman that there was life after the Judgment Day and the youngest two members were nuclear levels of heat. Perhaps they could be his future enforcers. The thought made him smile, even as Paul slid back into the room, dressed in his suit as usual, “My tribal chief, Priest, has requested a change of venue. Something about Dominik not being in a good headspace for public consumption. They’ve asked if we would mind meeting them at their rental house.” That was another thing Roman had noticed, The Judgment Day no longer lived hotel to hotel. They got short term rental properties from city to city. He’d tried to ask Hunter about it but the man had just dismissed him with a ‘Dominik needs them’. Like that explained everything. What was so special about Dominik Mysterio?

Curiosity peaked, Roman hummed, “That sounds agreeable, ask if we need to bring anything with us.” He preferred to be a good house guest even if he was going to somewhere he was sure was a den of sins. Paul typed away at his phone for a few minutes, then hummed, before he looked back up at Roman, “Well?”

“Priest suggest an open mind and that we wear clothing that’s not itchy or… uncomfortable to rub?”

Roman snorted, “Don’t look so freaked out. You know Priest. He’s probably just being a dramatic Dominant. We can wear soft clothes. He has his reasons.” Roman was a bit more curious about those reasons, now. Roman changed into softer shorts and a henley, before he trailed along behind Paul to the rental SUV with the twins, and eventually Solo followed along behind. Roman smiled as he realized that they had all followed Paul’s request to change into ‘softer’ clothes, all of them except Paul in fact looked like they were headed for a cotton-thread themed workout. The rental SUV posed a bit of a question of seating arrangements, but the twins ended up in the third row of seats, with Solo in the middle, one of the seats laid down, and Roman in the front passenger with Paul driving, as Roman connected the GPS.

“Man, I’m a bit curious to see what the hell they rented.” Came from Jey, “Also, the fact they get to rent houses…” He trailed off, a bit of jealousy leaking into his words.

Jimmy elbowed him, “Dude, Priest is Hunter’s favorite new boy.” Roman huffed, because being Hunter’s favorite anything walked the thin line between getting everything you wanted and having to deal with all the bullshit that went with being someone Hunter thought could handle the extra baggage.

-/-

The house was not what Roman thought it would be like, it was bright and full of sunshine and flowers. The juxtaposition between the deep black silk like pajamas on Damian’s frame as he opened the door to greet them, and the yellow siding was enough to make Roman do a double take, momentarily concerned he’d stepped into some sort of twilight zone. “Welcome, Bloodline, do come in.” He stepped back in the doorway and ushered them all in, “Finn is making lunch, Rhea and Dom Dom will be down in a few minutes.” Roman waited for Jimmy and Jey to settle on the overstuffed loveseat before he slid into the comfortable looking couch, Paul moved to stand by the fireplace, while Solo found a seat in the recliner.

Finn emerged from the kitchen in his own black shorts, that looked a lot like workout shorts, holding a tray of sandwiches. He settled them on the middle coffee table and headed back to the kitchen to grab the lemonaid, and several cups, before he dropped onto the arm of the chair that Damian had settled into, “Has Rhea not made it down yet?”

“No, Dom Dom was having… he was struggling, I assume she will make it down at some point.” Damian shrugged, unbothered, then looked at Paul, “I assume this meeting is about our loss but Solo’s victory?”

Paul started to talk, but Roman cut him off, “I would like to apologize, the Usos and Solo had their orders, and opted not to follow them. I did not want you to take the loss, and I feel that it was our fault.” Roman reached forward and poured himself a glass of lemonade, “Thank you for making us sandwiches and offering us drinks.” He gave the boys a look, which prompted Jimmy, Jey and Solo to each grab a drink and sandwich. “We were a bit confused about the venue change.”

“Sometimes, it’s best for Dom Dom to have a safe space.” Damian offered, he held Roman’s gaze, “As you know we in the Judgment Day have a certain… stigma about our… personal lives.”

Roman raised his eyebrow, “Is this about the fact that you all four have kinks that fall off the normal BDSM scene?” He offered, he kept his eyes locked on Damian’s, the older man bobbed his head slightly, “It’s fine, whatever is going on with Mysterio is going to be fine.” He said evenly, “We won’t judge, but we do need to decide our next moves when it comes to the Draft and to Backlash.”

“I’ll go get Rhea and Dom Dom.” Finn pushed off the chair arm, Damian patted his side, and Roman watched as he climbed the stairs, clearly worried about the turn of events.

“Can we get some sort of warning?” Jimmy asked, Roman recognized the mild concern in his cousin’s voice.

“Warning?” Damian looked perplexed.

“They want to know what to expect.” Paul sounded a bit like he wanted to know, too.

Damian chuckled, “Dom Dom is a good boy, a sweet puppy, very loving.” He offered, his smile widening.

Roman felt his eyes widen, that was a pointed statement, and if Damian was suggesting what Roman thought, well, he might just have to spend more time with the purple wearing vigilanties. A creak from the top of the stairs revealed Finn making his way back down, behind him was Rhea in an oversized t-shirt with no visible shorts underneath, “Come on, Dom Dom.” Rhea called, lovingly.

Roman almost flicked his gaze to his cousins, to watch their expressions, but he wanted to see the full reveal for himself. Dominik, afterall, was the son of a legend, and Roman knew for a fact Rey had no idea about this side of his son. Roman preferred to know what no one else did, and more than that - the fact that the Judgment Day was willing to let him see Dominik in any position other than one of power… well, it spoke volumes of how well they were going to partner, if he played his cards right.

Behind Rhea, from the top of the stairs, Dominik crawled. His purple and black puphood that resembles more of a hound, with long ears on either side of his head, his naturally long hair was fluffier than normal, and looked soft to touch. Dominik was on his hands and knees, a mesh soft looking purple shirt on his frame, it had been cut into a crop top, with tiny leather shorts on his hips, with a long faux black furry tail, that almost drug the floor as he crawled along.

“Such a good boy.” Roman offered as Dominik made it to the landing, standing between both Finn and Rhea, “Isn’t the puppy so cute, boys?” He turned to give Solo, Jey and Jimmy a pointed stare. He assumed Paul had been in the business long enough to accept that some things just happened. Jey was the first to nod his head, before reaching his palm out and whistling, Dominik turned his head upward, looking at Rhea who made an affirmative noise, the boy crawled across the floor to push his leather snout into Jey’s waiting hands. Roman, internally, sighed in relief. At least one of his cousins understood.

“Can I pet him, too?” Jimmy asked, softly, fingertips already extended and inched forward to touch Dominik.

“Sure.” Rhea offered, “He’s really good.” She promised, “I’m going to get his snack, ok?” She looked at Damian who nodded his head, “Uh, just don’t play rough with him, he doesn’t like his ears or tail pulled, and if you're rubbing his side don’t press too hard on the left side his ribs are bruised from Mania.”

“Of course.” Roman hummed, “We don’t want to hurt your puppy, do we lads?”

“Nope.” Solo offered, as he too moved to pet Dominik. Roman watched as the three ended up largely in the floor petting Dominik gently, Jey still rubbing his long hair, while Jimmy kept his palm largely trailing up and down Dominik’s spine (Roman would be willing to bet that Jimmy had experience with this, Roman had in fact met Naomi and the woman while crazy really liked cheetah print, and being on her knees). “Good boy, Dom.” Solo patted his head, “I’m going to listen to the meeting, ok?” Dom wagged his butt a little to give the illusion of his tail wagging.

Roman chuckled, as he stretched back out, “Come here, puppy.” He called softly, and watched as Dominik turned his head, snout first, long ears hitting him as he moved, to look at Roman, then he flicked his gaze to Damian.

“Go ahead,” Damian chuckled, “Rhea is making your snack, and we both know Roman is on your couch.”

Roman watched Paul reach out and run his fingers down Dominik’s spine as the boy hurriedly crawled toward Roman and then clambered onto the couch. Once Dominik was next to him, Roman adjusted so Dominik could rest his upper body across his lap, Roman immediately started scratching the boys head, letting his fingers tangle gently in Dominik’s hair. Roman cleared his throat, “What are we thinking about for Backlash? I already know where I am going for the Draft and I assume Rhea is aware?”

Rhea returned, to sit next to Roman, almost too close - he could feel the heat of her body against his side, as she smiled, “I know where I’m going, and where my boys are going. The real question is are they splitting you and Solo from the twins? And can I feed Dom his snack on your lap?” She held up a bowl full of strawberries and fresh cut fruit.

“Go ahead.” Roman offered, and watched Rhea pull the first strawberry up and maneuver it into his mouth. “Alright, so Backlash?” The planning after that was relatively simple - they knew what was going on Backlash wise, and what they thought the Draft was going to be like for the rest of the crew.

They’d largely wrapped up when Damian cleared his throat, “Dom Dom probably wants to play.” He checked his watch, “If anyone is interested?” He looked over the group, carefully.

Roman grinned, “I would love to watch you and Dom play, personally.” Then he remembered the room he was in, and looked toward the twins, Jimmy and Jey both were pitched forward, clearly interested in the turn of events, Solo looked like he might bolt, Paul, on the other hand, just shrugged his shoulders, unbothered.

Damian’s smile stretched uncomfortably large, “Rhea, did Dom Dom get all his snacks?”

“He did.” She confirmed, with a huge smile, “Let me get his blanket.” She stood and handed Finn the bowl that she’d been feeding out of, Roman watched as the man headed back for the kitchen, only to return with a bottle of water, with a straw coming out of the top of it, he helped Dominik get a long drink, then backed off. Rhea returned with a large purple overstuffed blanket that looked soft and comfortable. Damian moved from his chair to kneel on the blanket even as Rhea tugged on Dominik’s ear softly. “Are you ready to play, Dom?” He looked up at her and wagged his butt again.

Damian patted the blanket, “Come here boy,” Dom climbed down, which allowed Roman to move forward, resting his elbows on his knees, to watch closer. He snickered as Paul moved to drop onto the couch next to him. Finn had taken the seat Damian had vacated, Rhea now that Dominik was comfortably on the blanket, moved to sit on Finn’s lap.

“What are the rules, can we pet him while you play?” Jey asked, breaking the silence that Roman had been reveling in, as Damain carefully positioned Dominik and ran his fingers over the boys’ long hair and down his back, to drag the palm of his hands over Dominik’s ass.

That’s when it clicked for Roman, this was never the Judgment Day trying to show how much they trusted the Bloodline, this was them playing with power, showing him they knew who he was, they knew his dark secrets. He’d been caught out and had no Earthly idea how they’d figured out what he wanted most. This was the Judgment Day taunting him, and providing a blackmail avenue for themselves.

Roman and Jey were the only two to move, both dropping into the floor to rub at Dominik’s shoulders and head, both offering encouragement to the pup. Damian, meanwhile, had pressed his large hands over Dominik’s thighs, and was squeezing them, as the boy squirmed in what Roman assumed was eager anticipation. Rhea and Finn moved to join the pile on the floor, with Rhea carefully unlacing the shorts Dominik had been wearing, Roman watched as they fell away, revealing that the tail was actually a plug, Roman licked his lips, he couldn’t help it.

Damian waited for Finn to hand him something, then motioned for Roman closer, Jey meanwhile had settled in front of Dom, and was scratching at the base of his ears, where his natural hair overlapped the mask. Few men in life had made Roman jealous, but right now he wanted everything Priest was about to have. Damian nudged Dominik’s knees apart slightly, as Roman watched him gently pull on the base of the furry plug. Dominik let out a keening noise that had Rhea smirking as she bent toward Jey, only to kiss Dominik’s snout and whisper, “Be good for your Master, pupper, and I’ll let you have a special treat after.” That made his tail wag again, and by the look Rhea gave Dominik it was probably something Roman would have been more than interested in too.

Damian, meanwhile, was teasing the plug in and out of Dominik’s stretched hole, tantalizingly slow, slow enough that Roman could feel his mouth watering. Jimmy had moved to join his twin and Rhea, all three were rubbing all over Dominik’s back and stomach. “Ready, puppy?” Damian’s voice was honey, sticky sweet, and it made Roman’s spine tingle with want. He’d sort out his confusion over if he wanted to be Dominik or Damian at this moment, later, the show was about to get good. Damian pushed his own silky pajama pants down, revealing his hard cock. “Wanna be breed so bad, don’t you, pupper.” Damian cooed at him, affectionately.

Roman, for his own sanity, was not going to wax poetic over Damian’s cock, although it was nice, about the same size as his, but thicker, and quite literally pretty. Instead, he was going to salivate over the glorious image that was Damian slowly inching the plug out of Dominik’s tight little hole. Roman would have savored the moment, maybe teased Dominik with his fingers or his tongue, but Damian did neither, instead he lined his cock up and pressed forward, Dominik whimpered, but seemed to press his hips backward toward Damian.

“Don’t get impatient, pupper, wouldn’t want you to be a brat.” Roman said, evenly, not even realizing he might have over stepped something, Rhea shot him a look he couldn’t read, before she moved to kiss at Dominick's hips where Damian’s fingers were digging into Dominik’s flesh on the right side, while Finn was doing much the same on the left side. Jimmy and Jey were still rubbing at Dominik’s hair and snout, pressing kisses to his snout, and rubbing their hands over his shoulders and down his arms. Solo had pulled away from the group, with wide eyes and an expression of pure curiosity on his face. Roman spared him a second thought - perhaps Solo wasn’t aware that there was more to life than the vanilla world?

Shrugging it off, he glanced back at Damian whose hips were now completely flush with Dominik’s ass. Dominik it seemed, was content to be bred as Damian had suggested, Roman trailed his hand along Dominik’s side careful of his discolored skin from his bruised ribs, he had admittedly thought Dominik was cute for sometime - the boy was built different, and looked like someone worth snuggling up in a blanket and keeping safe and sound. It seemed like The Judgment Day had similar ideas about him. Damian slowly drug himself out of Dominik, only to plow back into the boy. Dominik let out a soft keening noise from the back of his throat, clearly pleased with all the attention he was getting.

Roman was entranced, as he watched Damian - big, powerful, slightly terrifying but one hundred percent alphamale - fuck in and out of Dominik like it was his professional job. Rhea and Finn were both offering words of encouragement, both to Dominik and Damian, Paul had apparently decided to watch them with the expression of someone who had very little interest in the current proceedings. Dominik was exquisite. A thing of beauty really, all soft skin and smooth lines, his back arched just right and his whines turned more feral and desperate as Damian pushed into him harder, thrusting with enough force the younger man was jolted forward with each snap of Damian’s hips.

“Rhea.” Damian’s voice held power and control, Roman’s own cock was half-hard and begging for his attention as he watched her shuffle forward to bend under Dominik’s body, Roman tilted down to watch her suck Dominik’s red weeping coco head into her mouth, as Finn’s fist coiled around his balls and tugged. Dominik let out a truly beautiful if not pitiful yelp, “Such a good puppy cumming just when told.” Rhea moved back out from under Dom and presented her open mouth to Damian first who smiled then to Roman, who was surprised to see that she hadn’t swallowed Dominik’s cum, instead she met Finn over the younger boys back in a sloppy kiss, to share his release.

Damian hadn’t slowed his hips down and with the patient way that Dominik was taking the nearly violent thrust, Roman realized just how often this had to happen. “You can cum on him if you want.” Finn offered, his hand already down his shorts jacking himself off, Rhea had backed off a bit and was rubbing her hand over her upper thighs. Clearly waiting for something. Roman flicked his gaze over his cousins, Jimmy and Jey had apparently already been jacking off as both men gave him guilty looks, Solo however was hard in his shorts but sitting on his hands. Processing more than likely, Roman decided, even as he pushed his shorts down to rest under his balls.

He didn’t expect Finn to catch his wrist and spit on his hand, but he’d take it - lubrication of any kind seemed idea as he moved to fist his dick at the same speed Damian was brutally fucking into Dominik with. Roman came quicker than he expected, his balls drawing up as Damian let out a growl of sorts and stopped his long thrust only to buck his hips once flush against Dominik’s ass in a sort of up-down motion, the boy had drool running down his snout, and his shoulders were shaking with exhaustion. Roman smiled as his cum splattered against the purple mesh and dark bruises on Dominik’s skin.

Damian’s hips stilled, it took Roman by surprise how much care Damian put into sliding out of Dominik and pushing the tail plug back in place, the boy seemed to collapse onto the rug so Damian pulled his pants back up and bodily life’s Dominik so he could cradle the boy in the chair with him. Rhea and Finn moved to sit on either arm of the chair, all three petting Dominik’s still quivering form.

Paul gave them a few minutes before he cleared his throat, “My tribal chief, Mr. Priest, sorry to interrupt more of what I am sure would be fantastic team bonding,” He turned to look at Roman, “But you have a afternoon meeting with Mr. Rhodes and I’m sure you would prefer to wear a suit to that.”

“Of course.” Roman agreed as he shakily stood, “Thank you for having us over and thank you for letting us play,” He rubbed Dominik’s head affectionately, “If you ever need a puppy sitter let us know.” He moved to walk away when Damian handed him a small flash drive. Roman raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s a helpful list, for people like us.” Damian said unbothered. “Safe places and rental properties.” Roman accepted the offer, a bit irritated. Obviously the Judgment Day had won this round, in a competition that he hadn’t been aware they were having.

-/-

It always took Dominik a while to come out of either puppy or subspace but once he did there was a house rule that Damian, Rhea and Finn would explain what happened and how. This time he’d sort of drifted back into awareness with his head between Rhea’s spread thighs licking her beautiful cunt like a starving man. He didn’t mind, not really that was probably one of his favorite places to be, but his hazy memories of his drop always seemed to come back in static after his head started to clear.

The after-Roman conversation. That’s what he’s going to refer to as the horrible discussion he and Damian had to suffer through after the meeting of the two factions, although Dominik is fairly sure they should have covered a lot more of exactly what they were doing in the before conversation. Damian had explained that the Bloodline were coming to visit them, he’d told Dominik how he thought Roman and at least Jey were inclined as they were (he had taken that to mean into kinks most normal people didn’t talk about) and that they were going to discuss the Draft and Backlash. Dominik hadn’t expected to be used as some sort of power play.

Admittedly he was flattered that he had power over Roman and his boys at least outside of the ring. He spent most of the afternoon pouting until Rhea inched into bed with him, “We wouldn’t have done anything to hurt you, you know that?” He nodded with his head still under the covers, “Damian would never put us in harms way. Not you and me. He might sacrifice Finn but we are his babies.” She patted her approximation of his head, “You did so good, Dominik and you honestly gave us our first leg up on the Bloodline. All those boys are married and the approximation of perfect households.” Rhea hummed, “You know how much fun we have with Damian, it’s an itch we can’t scratch anywhere else. It’s leverage baby.” She promised as he slowly inched out of the blanket to look at her, “You made us all proud today, and Roman? He wanted to be you.”

That made the twisted upset inside of Dominik subside. Rhea was right. Damian would never let anything happen to him or Rhea that would hurt them in their careers, physically or emotionally.

#rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley fanfiction #roman reigns fanfiction #damian priest fanfic #dominik mysterio fanfiction #finn balor fanfiction

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adalwolfgang · 8 months

Text

Die Society

Chapter 1 : Ricardo Zizi

Warning: Smoking, Curse words, Ricardo being Ricardo

It's been a whole month since you've made your move to Los Angeles, California. Moving has allowed you to be introduced to incredible opportunities regarding your lifestyle and career. After finishing college, you decided it would be best to travel. Decide what you want to do with your life.

So far, no luck has come with getting a stable career, but you were able to find a fitting lifestyle and routine.

The apartment you had rented out was rather nice. One master bedroom, a single guest bedroom, a kitchen, and a decent size bathroom.

Some neighbors from your apartment complex recommended going downtown where most business's looked for help.

A neighbor down the call of the apartment building recommended trying out at a gym that wasn't far down the road. You took your time, strolling down the street and taking in the new sights. After asking around, a group of locals told you where the studio was. Upon arriving to the front of the building, nothing seemed to stand out, apart from the large sign saying, "Zizi's Spin Class". When walking in, a strong smell wafted through your nose. Burned Tobacco. The bell chimed notifying the receptionist. She glanced up at you for a second before speaking.

"If you're a member, you're late for the spin class and if you're new. You're still late for the spin class.”

Before you could respond a man walked around a wall connecting to what could only be the workout studio. The man was tall with long dark hair, round glasses, and a Versace outfit.

"Hello, welcome to my private spin class. My name is Ricardo and I'll be your instructor this evening." The man said before grabbing your hand and giving it a quick kiss. 'Awkward' was all you could think of as he led you to a group of people sitting on spin bikes while explaining that you can participate in the class and get a membership afterwards, if you want too of course.

He sets you in the front row, claiming it was the only one left. Once he got on his bike, he informed everyone to warm up first, then the class would start.

Time Skip...

Ricardo started to clap randomly, making peoples little side convo's quiet down. Once the claps got softer, his eyes glancing in your direction, he leaned forward and began talking.

"All right...Is this working?" he said as he tapped a microphone attached to the front of his bike. "Hey everyone, how are you doing? Welcome to another silent spin class with me, Ricardo Zizi. Now, I see a lot of new faces here which is great. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you for coming along for a new type of spin experience and to explain a little bit more about what we do in these sessions. So, if you look to your right, on your bike you got some headphones. And these headphones are connected to radio, streaming services and this little doodad right here" he explains while motioning with his hands as he lists off all the things the headphones are connected to.

"The idea of silent spin class is its either silent in which case you can just switch off the sound or you can just concentrate on the sounds you want to hear." He keeps eye contact with you for a few seconds before looking away and adjusting himself on his bike.

"Now it's a full body spin workout so I hope that you remember that the winner takes it all because we are going to be working those, abdominals, making those obliques look fleek and just having a good time." He pauses for a moment before continuing.

"Now before you begin, because not everyone is as good as you, reset your machine by pressing the button and holding it on the left." Everyone does as they're told, you doing the same.

"Mhmm.. Everyone ready? Let's begin." As he continues talking everyone through the process, his attention seems to shift toward you again. You raise an eyebrow at him, all he does is smirk in return.

"Now, I'll be keeping my voice fairly quiet, so that I don't suprise you or make you swerve into another cyclist, right?" A few people laugh at his joke, while others are already in concentration with cycling.

"But I want you to be mindful at the kind of speed we're going here today. So, we're looking at about 35 kilometers per hour, and by the end of today's session we should have burned off about 300 calories. Now I don't want you worrying about being able to keep up. Go with your pace. Remember if it was a race, we'd be on the road but we're all here. Static. Burning calories together and enjoying each other's company." He shoots a wink your way before continuing his little speech.

"Right, so on your display you can see the time. We've already done a minute; it wasn't that easy."

"With your hands, if you place them on the diodes on the left and right you will get a heart reading. This is your heart so pay attention. Make sure you don't push it too far, okay? I'm looking at you, yes right Joey I remember. Now we've also got lots of other information, the calories burning, the distance, all the fun stuff. On the front of your bike, you also have two resistance bands to make a delightfully relaxful sound. We're going to be using those in conjunction with the cycling in general to ensure that you get a full body work out." As you process his words, you do start feeling the burn in your body. Small droplets of sweat already forming on your skin.

"Okay guys, we're up to almost two and a half minutes. Another two-and-a-half-minute mark we are going to start using the resistance bands. I'm not going to say much, just follow my lead. I'm going to start by working the obliques. Pulling and turning to the appropriate side." As he talks, he demonstrates what to do.

"All right, how's that sound" he says as he leans forward again on his bike while smiling and staring at you. You just raise an eyebrow before shifting your gaze to the wall behind him causing him to chuckle under his breath as he gets back to talking.

"Oh, now just before I forget when you arrive, please make sure you sign in at the reception in case there's a fire or something. We got to make sure everyone's accounted for. All right, so if you want to warm up go ahead and do that." Right as he finishes his sentence, he proceeds to talk directly to you.

"Hey, as you can see, I'm wearing my Versace, so you better have brought your game face, right?"

After saying this he starts smiling to himself before ending the discourse conversation.

"Let's do some quick exercise's" He points at you, "You got this, don't worry."

"Remember, concentrate on your breathing, keep it regular. If it helps breath in on pull and out on when you let go. But when you pull remember to control the return. Thats where the strength comes in. Alright let's do both. Test those pecks." He continues the exercise 2 more times before talking again.

"Now you'll notice on your bike there is a resistance setting, by default set this to five. All right? You can turn it down if you want. The only thing you need to worry about is yourself. Don't look left, don't look right, hell don't even necessarily look at me. Concentrate on yourself. You don't have to race, ok? And if you can tense your muscles a little. Your abdominals, not traditionally work out on a bike but what you can do is lift yourself while riding. Tense up real good and push." He proceeds to grabs both sides of the bikes seat and lift himself to show everyone who is watching.

"Let's do some bicep and triceps' work. Grab both the resistance bands and lift." He continues this a few more times before leaning closer to the front of his bike.

"How are we feeling? Good. Hey, new face, front row, enjoying it?" You simply respond that you are starting to feel a sweat on your head.

"Oh yeah, you'll be working up a sweat all right. Don't worry." Before you can make a comeback, he starts calling out someone in the back.

"Joey, Both feet dude."

As everyone continues cycling, Mr. Hotshot starts talking to no one in particular on stretching as he stretches his muscles. The thing is, as he is doing it, he keeps direct eye contact with you and just smirks every time you happen to make eye contact with him. This guy was starting to weird you out.

"Now we are approaching the eight-minute mark. Now as regulars know at about the 15-minute mark, we go into solo mode. Now this is where even I put on my headphones we emote. We concentrate on the music, listen to it. It becomes our rhythm as we cycle. Today I'm listening to something, and I want to see if you can work out which song by the way I choose to emote. And I want to see emotion from all of you. Every. Single. One. You got that? No, Lip syncing is imperative. You must Lip Sync or you're out of the class. All right?" Everyone just nods before getting their choice of music ready, some people already having their music playing.

"I don't want to hear it, Joey." He says this as he points to the man from earlier, then goes back to as if nothing happened.

"All Right, so remember that we're feeling pretty relaxed, and the good news is we're just about to hit 100 calories burned. We're approaching the nine-minute mark. Let's do some pecs." Again, he demonstrates the exercise four more times while keeping eye contact with you.

"How are we all feeling? We should be maintaining a rough 35 to 40k. It's ok if you're not but I don't know about you. I'm starting to sweat, which is no bad thing. So, make sure that you are drinking plenty of fluids. I want to see each of you with your water, taking a sip whenever you need to, okay?"

He goes on to walking through with everyone on the exercises for about, 3 minutes before leaning forward and talking to you again.

"You are doing really well. I'm very impressed." He fixes he glasses before trying to ask you a question.

"Would you come- Sorry microphone right." He adjusts his shirt before continuing.

"Okay, we're coming up to the 15-minute mark which is emote territory, so I need you to emote. We are almost hitting 150 calories, which is great. You've all got this. You are all impressing me. You are all a testament to the success of the silent spin." He does a few more movements before speaking again.

"All right, halfway. Nearly halfway at 15 minutes you're going to hit 150 calories. This is two burgers you ate, Jill. You should be feeling the heat now.

Feeling little drip drops of sweat down your forehead. You don't know where you are going, but you are getting there in style. You are getting there on a bike, without wheels, like the angels of old.

Behold spin." You just look at him with a hesitant look. 'This man is weird in the weirdest way' was all you could think to describe him.

"All right. Cynthia, I want to see better posture.

Much better. I'm very impressed. Good. Very good..." As he points and praises at you, he shoots another wink your way. Smirking like some lascivious fool.

"You, what's your name? Andrew. Andy Pandy. Pudding pie. Rode the bike. And made them die. Okay guys, headphones on. It's Emote time." After saying this everyone including yourself put on your headphones. Ricardo grabs his phone from the upholder on his bike and starts looking for the song he wanted everyone to guess.

After you find your song of choice, you start lip syncing. Everyone starts doing the same, but what make you question this instructor even more was him dancing. Not your normal head movements to certain lyrics but actually dancing, as if he was in some night club. This went on for about six to seven minutes if you had to take a guess. Soon the silent emote or whatever he calls it was over, he threw his headphones to the right of him and started talking again.

"Okay, apologies if I got a little...carried away there. It's a favorite of mine. And-phew makes me sweat. Hey. Andrew. Great work on the emoting. You are definitely invited." This made you even more confused. Invited to what? Was doing exercise a test for something?

"We are now 20 minutes in. You have all done incredibly well. We're going to do a few more minutes, okay?" He looks at you before speaking again. " How are you feeling? You, okay?" You simply nod. "Good." He continues to work with the resistance bands a few times before speaking again.

"I don't know about you guys, but I feel like we've done a pretty good workout today. How are we feeling? Joey. Cynthia. Carl, I didn't see you. Hey buddy. You're rocking out to the crew? Of course you are. We are coming up to 216 calories burned. That is indicative. About 23 minutes of us cycling together. We've been varying our speeds between 30-35 kph. Okay I want all of you to feel proud of what you've done today. That was some serious spin. Really, really impressive stuff but I think we'll call it a day for now. So slow down, slow down, that's it. Okay, now we don't want to be like those other people before us, do we? So, we reset the machine when we step off of it. I want to say, well done, again. Let's do some breathing exercises to cool down. You ready? Okay so breathe in, and out(×4). All right, well, if you guys are anything like me. You got sweat in your eye. Your shirt is soaked, and you could use some food so all of you make your way out, but you!” He points toward you.

"Newbie, can I just talk to you for a minute? Once everyone else is gone?" You slowly shake your head yes as he smiles at you. You watch as people leave, and Ricardo starts bidding people out.

"Okay, see you Gel. Yeah, say hi. She going to come next week. Her funeral? Man." He slowly exhales before picking up some things and putting them back in their original spot. As he does this you ask him if somethings wrong.

"Ye, just two minutes. Hey. So- Oh man. Hey I... I hate to be that guy, but can I grab one of those?" He points at your pack of cigarettes peaking from your chest pocket. You question why he asks for one in a studio, but you reluctantly get one out and hand him one.

"Oh, thank you." You ask him if it's okay to smoke inside but all he says is, "Oh it's my studio, don't worry." You still feel skeptical with smoking and ask again to make sure. "Oh yeah, yeah, Mhmm." As he also uses your lighter, he thanks you again.

Soon the tension and awkwardness starts to build back up again so you try and make small talk.

"Oh, thanks for coming, yeah, it's a cool class huh. Yeah, I wanted to do something a little bit different. You know? All these spin classes are so noisy." You start asking him small questions like why his name is Ricardo.

"Ricardo Zizi. Yeah...It's Italian. My folks are from the old country. Yeah, I'm a little bit more...Modern. Yeah, erm this place is owned by...Hugo Hoffman. Heard of him?" You remember seeing billboards about someone with that name.

"That's right, real estate. I work for him. This? No, this is just a side gig. I'm into entertainment. I'm a Dj of course. Who isn't right?" He laughs at his own joke before taking another drag from the cigarette.

"You know...I can't get over this feeling that I've seen you somewhere before. This is a long shot, but you could work..." Before he can finish you already start panicking thinking he is going to ask you to be involved in something illegal . He must have noticed your panicked expression because he quickly interrupts.

"No nothing like that! Party work. Mr. Hoffman. He has these big 'top secret' shin digs. All you have to do is hand out some Hors D'oeuvre, maybe chat to a few guests, or some drinks. 300 bucks. What do you say?" You contemplate for a moment before asking if there is a catch because right now this seems too good to be true and sketchy all at once.

"There is one weird catch. He's a... hm... he's an eccentric guy. You know? Yeah, weirdo. Most super rich people are, don't you think? But anyway, he has dress requirements. Not just clothes but makeup. Things like that. Hairstyles. And he likes to see staff before he lets them into the party." You ask him a few more questions since you have no idea what you need to look like or what to wear.

"If you're still interested sure. Well look, why don't I take your number" He hands you his cell phone.

"Just pop it in there. Mhmm. Give me a sec." He starts tapping on his phone before your own phone dings.

"That's me. Ricardo Zizi. Spell it how it sounds. Two z's. I've just texted you two of my friends' numbers. The first one is Valencia. She's this crazy…women. She's going to do your makeup. Just how Mr. Hoffman likes it, okay? And the other number is for my friend Elissa. Well, she's my girlfriend actually." This both shocks and confuses you. This dudes been flirting with you the whole time while being in a relationship? What a prick. "But don't tell her I told you that- Anyways. She's a photographer so she'll take some snaps for you to share with Mr. Hoffman. All being good, Ill text you again letting you know it's cool and I'll send you the address." You still feel skeptical, but 300 dollars is a lot and would help with things. As if he can see the hesitation in your eyes he continues.

"It's one night, 300 bucks, easy money huh?"

Finally, you nod your head and thank him.

"It's the least I could do for the smoke. Oh! one more thing before I forget. You don't need to worry about that right now just go home, get cleaned up and then tomorrow go see Valencia. Then in the afternoon go see Elissa. Just text them before. They all have socials so it will be fine. But there is a bouncer on the doorway. I forget his name. Real grumpy guy but this kind of a 'eyes watch shit' type deal. You know what I mean so you're going to have to give him a password. The password is... Hel-..Hill...Hilarious...I think. Ill text it to you before the event regardless." After processing all this new information, you thank him again before getting ready to leave since it does seem like it's getting late, and you still need to do other things.

"Well, hey, it's been great to meet you" He shakes your hand. "Thank you for coming to the class. It's a lot of fun, right? Kind of goofy. I always get lost in that song. Probably says something about me huh. Good luck. It's been a real pleasure meeting you and all being well I'll see you tomorrow night and you'll be 300 bucks richer, and I'll be in the bosses' good books for getting someone who actually knows what they're doing. All right, well, I got another class starting up soon, so I better get ready. I'm caked in sweat. But thank you. I look forward to working with you. Ciao bello."

You walk out of the studio, looking down the the text message with both numbers sent to you. Oddly enough, the Los Angeles sun seemed to be going down so you start making the walk back to your apartment. You still couldn't get that negative thought out of your mind but you were able to push it to the back of your head. Til tomorrow.

#jimchimages #jimchi #jimchiasmr x reader #jim ち asmr #jim 5 asmr #jimち #jimち asmr #jim asmr #die society asmr #die society #fanfiction #fanfictions

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