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hangesdarling · 6 months

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Idea! Hange who finds out her rival in the scouts is actually just a massive bottom

rivals, right? — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader SYNOPSIS. You and your rival Hange were forced to sleep in one tent for an expedition. CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, nipple sucking, fingering, oral sex, a bit slow burn WORD COUNT. 2.1k A/N. sorry anon i missed the part where they're scouts :") they're both section commanders on this one though. hope that's alright!

"I'm not sleeping with you," you groaned, the irritation sharp enough to cut through the night.

"You make it sound weird when we're just sleeping in one tent," Hange said with an amused laugh, padding up the tent floor with a few blankets so it wouldn't be too rocky to lie down on.

So annoying, you might be thinking. Hange always acts coy, teasing even as if your constant clash and rivalry were an amusement of some sort. Years of training and expeditions, even as scouts, Hange always managed to be linked with you. Both were labeled the smartest, both became section commanders at the same time, and both were considered respectable researchers. Your titles always one up with the other, a tight competition you never seemed to have an agreement on.

"Ugh, why is it always with you?" You mumbled behind the notebook you're scribbling on. It was loud enough to reach Hange's ears.

"Sorry, dear. Every tent is occupied," they said simply. Hange placed two makeshift pillows, peeking over the tent as if waiting for you to come inside. You glanced in their direction but turned away almost instantly.

"I'll be out here for a while," you muttered, focused on scribbling on your notes. Hange looked over your shoulder in curiosity, crawling beside you.

"Observations, huh?" Hange remarked, pushing their glasses up so their eyes could follow your scribbles.

You blushed at being observed, quickly hiding the notes you were writing.

"Nah, just listing why my research is more relevant than yours," you saved yourself from awkwardness, pulling a smug smile.

Hange laughed, tilting their head almost mockingly. "That's kinda pathetic, don't you think?"

"Heh, not when I get those two titans for my experiment," you replied, lips curling into a smirk.

Ah, so damn stubborn, Hange thought. They shook their head lightly, still amused by how you managed to pull this stubborn behavior with them for years. You're typically kind and soft-spoken with other scouts, an authority to be respected, not feared. But Hange finds it almost ridiculous when you both act like bickering children around each other.

"Would it kill you to share a titan with me? Besides, Erwin said we only get to capture one titan each."

"Out of all people, you should know that won't be enough," you replied. The situation you're both in just hardens your stubbornness. How could humanity thrive and gain knowledge when research is always limited? Tight budget, the shitty authority; Survey Corps never seems to run out of problems.

"Well, we have to work with our limited resources, you know," Hange explained. "We're not supported enough in terms of this. Our supplies are insufficient. That's probably why we're sharing a tent."

"I'll do something about that," you mumbled like a steadfast promise. "Just go to sleep for now."

Hange looks at you for a while, perhaps in admiration or judgment. But in any way, they see the reflection of their resolve.

"You should sleep too. It would be a long day tomorrow. Good night, Y/N."

Do something about it, huh? Hange slept with that curious thought, wondering what risky method would you try to pull in the next few days.

---

Being outside the walls stopped feeling new after your tenth or fifteenth expedition. As a scout, you always have some sort of fear just from the countless tales of unsuccessful expeditions and a tower of dead bodies after one.

But now, you managed to expertly map through the routes outside just from memory. Where titans roam the least or the best view to watch over their behavior.

You were sitting atop a branch of a large tree, binoculars in hand, and planning where to stage the capture. Your mind went through the manpower and equipment sent with you outside, wincing at the fact that the capture could be dangerous. Hange managed to develop a catching net some months ago, ensuring a safe capture. However, with the tight route and a precarious amount of titan, you doubt that this capture would be entirely safe.

From another tree, Hange was watching titans, observing how slow they usually walk without bait. They are focusing. Supposedly.

But now and then, their binoculars would travel over where you sat, the lenses perfectly capturing your distress at the current conundrum.

No sooner, you felt another presence at the tree—Hange's familiar footsteps, careful to reach you on that wide branch.

"You're worrying about the route, isn't it?" you heard them whisper behind you as you lowered your own binoculars.

"Not just that," you sighed defeatedly, head on your hands. "I was thinking that two titans really wouldn't be enough for us even if we shared."

You handed Hange your notebook much to their surprise. They flipped over the pages, gaining an understanding of your concerns. Your desired experiment might be ambitious and idealistic but it would be helpful if you succeeded. But with resources so limited and countless lives to take into consideration, how would you able to do this?

Hange sat beside you, still thumbing over some pages. Even if you're turning your face away, Hange could tell you were trying hard not to tear up from the frustration and possibility of loss. This was important for you after all. They've watched you study, observe, and create all of these for over a year.

They placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before saying, "We could do something about this, you know that. Come with me."

----

"Why do you always kick your blanket off when you sleep?" Hange asked curiously one night in the tent.

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do! I had to tuck it beneath your feet at least three times last night," Hange argued.

"My, don't bother with it..." You brushed it off, turning away from them to hide your face. You tried to trace back since when Hange Zoë's relationship with you became so casual, almost friendly. If your mind wanders far enough, you might consider something else happening. Affection, maybe. But you shrugged all those thoughts off, reminding yourself that the plan you agreed on was purely for science and the advancement of humanity.

"But you're weak to coldness," Hange continued, covering you in several layers of blanket, ignoring the pout on your lips. They had a grin on their face when they said, "Don't want my research partner getting sick, do I?"

"We're not research partners," you frowned.

"Eh, why not? I just told you my whole plan and you agreed with it."

"Doesn't mean we're partners from now on."

"God, you're one stubborn lady," Hange chuckled, a sigh escaping their lips. They pulled their blankets over them, slowly dozing off. Outside, the night was filled with the gentle chirps of crickets, chorusing at one point. Even with such proximity, you could feel Hange's warmth, their gentle breathing only conveyed that they must also be awake.

---

The next morning, you and Hange's plan set into motion, traps were located strategically in a different route. Both of you were taking full liability for what would happen in the days to come, informing the soldiers about the need to capture four titans to sufficiently conduct the research. It wasn't the safest plan, some were hesitant but many trusted your scheme since all of you share a common goal.

You commander your unit, imparting knowledge of the best actions to take. But for the remaining hours, your eyes remained on your notebook, pretending to check details to reach the optimum result. However, Hange knew you had an entirely different reason. Maybe to interact less with them, afraid they would bring up how you two ended up tangled in each other's arms last night.

---

"I'm just letting you know that won't happen again," you said flatly, eyes boring upwards through the tent as you lay down.

Hange turned their head to you, their lips forming into a subtle smirk once more. "What is?"

"Um, last night..." you said in a low voice.

"Ah, you mean when you're hugging me so tightly?" Hange asked smugly.

You bit your lip, trying to save yourself from this. "I was asleep. Not responsible for my actions, but forgive me for disturbing your sleep."

Much to your surprise, Hange hovered over you, their deep brown eyes glinting almost knowingly against the dark space inside. The atmosphere thickened, your heart ramming louder than the sounds of night.

"No need to apologize for anything, sweetheart," they whispered, their eyes following your lips the way your eyes do for them. In that heated moment, all that you've both held in flooded out like a dam breaking and gushing to spill over. Hange placed a firm hand on your shoulder, keeping you pinned on the blankets as their lips met yours. It was a firm kiss, your lips nearly melting into each other's. Your hands traveled on Hange's hair where you tug and pull them closer. Hange sat you up in their lap, gaining better access of your neck and chest. Their hands snaked under your clothes as they ask for permission to go further each time to which you only nod.

"If you want to have me so bad, you shouldn't have spent years being annoying," you muttered into the kiss.

"Says the one who wouldn't let go of me last night," Hange smirked, a thumb circling your clothed breasts. "Besides, you should've picked up on it early on. You're so smart after all."

"You know, you look more attractive when you shut up," you muttered as you fell on top of Hange. Their flushed face look at you expectantly, expecting you would dominate this whole ordeal. After all, they saw you in that dominant, commanding light after years of leadership.

But Hange noticed how flustered you were just from being on top of them. Your thighs kept straddled on their lap, your hands resting on their shoulder, not knowing where to hold on. Hange smirked, taking it as a sign to flip you over once more. Their breath was warm against your ear as they whispered, "It's okay, Y/N. Let me do it for you."

Hange locked your lips in a kiss once more, bundling your shirt on your chest. Their lips slithered from your lips down to your throat, reaching the trail between your breasts. They kept one firm hand on your wrist as their tongue gently circled one of your nipples, sucking their lips on the hardened bud.

Hange covered your mouth before you let out high-pitched noises from the sensation.

"Shhhh... You don't want your subordinates to hear you, right?" They smiled against the darkness.

The night was slow and heated as you let Hange do wonders with their mouth and fingers, always managing to draw out a soundless moan from you. Your lips could only part, your hands clenching around their body. They were amused to see you follow along and nod with their wishes, so compliant with their charm.

Hange had the button of your blouse open, your breasts spilling out into their face and the warm flesh of your stomach open for their wet kisses.

"You know," Hange began, drawing their fingers in and out of you at a teasingly, slow pace. "I didn't expect this much submission from you."

"Shut up, Hange..." you breathed out, a hand over your eyes as you were beginning to write against their fingers. Hange held down your hip, tugging your pants a bit more so they could have more access to you.

"As you wish, m'lady," Hange placed a kiss on your clit before gently lapping up the warm wetness gathering on your slit.

Hange kept on until the faint light of dawn slitted through your tent. You forgot just how much stamina they had to draw one orgasm after another from you. They only stopped when you've whined and writhed enough under them, pleading for a break. Hange fixed up your clothes, smoothed out your hair, and drew the blanket over you again as if nothing happened. Their wet lips kissed you once more as they said, "You still have a few hours to sleep. Sleep tight, sweetheart."

---

The capture will take place during the afternoon. The equipment was set, and the soldiers were preparing their ODM gear for however long the capture may last.

The scouts passed by, even some of your friends, noticing the slight shift of the atmosphere but couldn't quite put it into words. Maybe this time their section commanders weren't bickering as usual. They went with that fresh start in high spirits, brushing off their suspicions whenever they saw Hange place an arm around your waist or whisper something to make you laugh or blush. Your unit didn't think much of it, even attributing it as a minor hallucination or a ripple in the universe. There's no way their section commanders are getting affectionate.

After all, you're rivals, right?

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

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solarmorrigan · 9 months

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Hello! So I saw you were doing “angsty-ish prompts” and was wondering if you could do “you don’t have to stay” with Steve angst and the typical complex from his parents making him think he doesn’t deserve to be cared for. Or smth of the sort lol

If not that’s totally fine! Feel free to ignore

You want me to write about Steve's abandonment issues and insecurity?? Gosh, anon, twist my arm, why don't you. (But seriously, I loved writing this, thank you for the prompt! I'm afraid the "parents" part didn't quite make it in, but I hope this is okay, anyway!)

[Warning for vague mentions of sex? Nothing explicit]

This is the part Steve has been dreading.

He lies on his belly, arms folded beneath his head, and listens as Eddie’s breath evens out beside him. He knows that as soon as the effects of the exertion wear off, Eddie will have no reason to stay, and he’ll pick his clothes up off the floor, get dressed, and go.

Steve had known that’s what would follow if he slept with Eddie. He’d known that if he finally acted on the weeks upon weeks of flirting and dancing around each other, the only possible outcome would be Eddie walking away when they’d finished.

He’d known it would happen, and it was worth it, but that doesn’t mean he wants to watch.

Steve keeps his head firmly turned away as he hears Eddie sit up with a rustle of sheets. He tries to keep his body relaxed, his cheek pillowed on his arms – the picture of lazy disinterest. He doesn’t want to make Eddie feel guilty by appearing upset; Steve’s feelings aren’t his problem.

Instead of listening for the sounds of Eddie getting up and hunting for his clothes, Steve tries to focus on the signs that he’d been there. He concentrates on the residual burn in his thighs and the slightly over-stretched feeling in his hips, where Eddie had made space for himself (where Steve had gladly opened up for him); he concentrates on the ache in his wrists, where Eddie had gripped him tightly, somehow making Steve feel safe and held, rather than trapped; he concentrates on the slight sting of the bruising bitemarks Eddie’s left on his neck and chest (and belly and thighs and elsewhere, probably). He focuses on all the ways Eddie had worshipped and pleasured him before their time together was up.

He's focusing so hard, in fact, that he jumps at the feeling of lips pressing to his lower back.

Eddie lets out a low chuckle and kisses him again, just above his tailbone. “Alright?” he asks, the warmth of his breath raising goosebumps across Steve’s skin.

“Fine,” Steve says, twisting to look over his shoulder; Eddie has situated himself near Steve’s hip and is leaning over him, pressing slow kisses up the length of his spine. Steve suppresses a shiver. “Just… wasn’t expecting you.”

Eddie hums, fitting his fingers in the dip of Steve’s waist as his lips reach Steve’s shoulder. “Not ready to take my hands off you just yet,” he says, and – oh.

Steve hadn’t been expecting this, but he’s definitely willing to work with it.

“Looking for round two already?” he asks, letting a flirtatious lilt warm his voice.

But then Eddie shakes his head, and Steve’s confused all over again.

“Just want to be able to feel you,” Eddie says, before he nuzzles his way into the crook of Steve’s neck and heaves a contented sigh.

He runs his hands up from Steve’s waist, over his ribs, up to his armpits, and then slides them back down again, the drag of his touch just heavy enough to keep from tickling.

Finally, Eddie settles, lying half on top of Steve, chest to back, one leg crooked over the backs of his thighs, his arm cradling his ribs with his hand tucked between his chest and the mattress. His bangs tickle Steve’s cheek and his nose is pressed so firmly to his neck that Steve’s not even sure how he’s breathing, but he seems happy there, and Steve doesn’t know what to do.

People don’t do this – not with him. Usually, he’s the one who has to initiate cuddles, has to find a sort of sideways method of accomplishing it because he knows he’s not supposed to ask. It’s not something he’s allowed to want out loud.

This is the most skin-to-skin contact he’s had in ages. It’s the most he’s been touched in ages, and it’s so much; it feels so good it hurts, but–

Steve doesn’t understand why it’s happening. Eddie doesn’t want to have sex again, and Steve isn’t sure what else could be keeping here, and so, like an idiot, Steve just says what he’s thinking.

“You don’t have to stay.”

“Mm?” Eddie rouses, pulling his face from the crook of Steve’s neck. “What?”

“You can go,” Steve says, before realizing that sounds a little too much like a dismissal. “If you want to, I mean.”

For a long moment, Eddie is quiet.

“What do you want?” he finally asks.

Steve can’t help the bitter huff of a laugh that escapes him. “What I want doesn’t matter,” he says; maybe it’s a childish sort of answer, but it’s been proven true, time and time again, and Steve is tired of asking for things—for affection, for love—only to be denied.

Eddie sits up, and the colds sets in immediately, every part of Steve that he’d been touching now crying out for him to come back.

“Of course it matters,” Eddie says, sounding nearly affronted, before his tone gentles. “Steve… sweetheart, can you look at me?”

Maybe it’s the pet name, or the hand resting softly in the middle of his back, but even though he’s not entirely sure he wants to, Steve rolls onto his side to face Eddie.

There’s something lost and sad in Eddie’s expression that makes Steve want to turn away again, but he stays where he is.

“Did you really think I would just leave after this?” Eddie asks, and Steve shrugs, the muscles of his shoulders screaming after being held folded beneath his head for so long. Eddie’s face twists into a frown. “Why?”

“That’s… how it works,” Steve says. “People don’t want to stay. And they don’t have to – you don’t have to. It’s fine, I understand.”

“No, baby, I don’t think you do,” Eddie says, and while Steve’s brain is still fuzzing to static over the second sweet name in as many minutes, Eddie slides back down to lie in front of Steve and presses a soft kiss to his unresisting mouth. “I want to stay.”

Steve stares at him. Blinks. Finds that Eddie is still there, still offering him a gentle version of his usual infectious grin, and Steve has no idea what to do.

“Why?” he asks.

“Because I want to fall asleep with you,” Eddie says, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “I want to wake up with you.” A kiss to his other cheek. “I want to fuck you again in the morning.” A kiss to his chin. “Or we can just shower,” a kiss to his forehead, “and I’ll make you breakfast.” A kiss to the tip of his nose, and Steve finally breaks, letting out a short laugh.

“This is my house,” he says. “And you don’t even cook.”

“I’ll have you know I fry a mean egg, and I am a master at making toast,” Eddie says with a grin.

“What if I like my eggs scrambled?” Steve asks, a little more quietly.

Eddie’s smile softens again. “Then I’ll learn,” he says simply. “Do you want any of that, Steve?”

And somehow, in the small, warm space between them, it feels almost safe, almost easy to nod and say, “I want all of that. I want you to stay.”

The only reply he gets is Eddie’s arms wrapping around him, pulling him close, and Eddie’s warm, soft mouth against his; but for Steve, that’s answer enough.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddiesteve #solar wrote #answers from solar #anonymous #last one before the new year!

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babycharmander · 3 months

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PSA for TF2 Fanartists

(And... really for everyone on the creative side of the fandom, but artists are the ones hurt by this the most.)

I've been seeing some really concerning stuff here that is going unnoticed. Granted, I don't think this is any artist's fault--if anything, the artists are the victims here. But that's why I want to make you guys aware of this, so you can protect yourself from this sort of thing.

"This sort of thing" being a little something called fetish mining.

Fetish mining is when someone with a specific fetish attempts to trick someone else into providing them with content for their fetish... without letting them know that's what they're asking for. Outside of fandom spaces, this can look like someone with a foot fetish approaching someone who is selling socks, and asking them to "model" the socks for them--they're not actually interested in buying the socks, they just want to see pictures of feet.

Within fandom spaces, however, they often take the form of someone repeatedly requesting something featuring a very specific body part of a character, or repeatedly requesting art of a character performing a weirdly specific action. (The repeated part is important here--someone could just say "oh hey could you draw this character shirtless?" once, and that would probably be fine. There's a chance it could be a fetish thing, sure, but it's significantly less likely. Same with a really random request--someone could request something really specific, but if they only do so once, it's significantly less likely to be a fetish mining request.) They might also provide an excuse like, "oh, I think this would be really funny! :)" or "this is a joke request! but it would be hilarious if you drew it"

So what are some examples of this?

Well... they might look a little something like this:

[ID: Two screenshots of two different anonymous asks. The first one reads "HEAVY TF2 TUMMY" with multiple red exclamation points afterward, and the second reads "Sniper tf2 teeth" followed by multiple red exclamation points. /end ID]

(I was going to feature another but then realized it wasn't anonymous, and I'm not comfortable putting an actual blog on blast.)

If these were just one-off asks, that would be one thing, but if you look up these things, you'll see dozens of these asks.

As well, there's nothing wrong with drawing Heavy shirtless, or drawing Sniper baring his teeth. Having fetishes for stomachs or teeth is not wrong, either, nor is specifically requesting fetish art (so long as the artist is okay with such requests)!

The problem is that the specificness of these asks, combined with how frequently these asks get sent, are signs of fetish mining.

(Though another problem is that... this isn't always a 100%-for-sure sign of fetish mining. Some people have special interests that might not be a typical thing like a fandom or hobby or branch of science, but could just be something oddly specific like stomachs or teeth. These things are okay and are not bad! But requests relating to these things can, unfortunately, look identical to fetish mining.)

And again, fetish mining is a person sneakily asking for someone else to provide them with something that is fetish material for them--something that is sexual for them--without letting that person know that's what it's for.

This makes it a form of sexual harassment.

I feel like a lot of the fandom is... not really aware of what's going on, here, and it's distressing. These are very likely bad actors trying to take advantage of people and get away with sexually harassing others (including minors). This is not okay. No part of that is okay.

The best thing to do when faced with a request that seems oddly specific is to look it up, and, if there seem to be multiple requests of this nature, to ignore it--do not fulfill the request. Do not encourage this behavior. (Unless you're okay with drawing that kind of content, but like... if that's the case, then tag your work appropriately.)

Don't feel bad if you've fulfilled some of these requests in the past--you didn't know, and being tricked is not your fault. But now that you do know, you can hopefully better protect yourself from this kind of thing.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 heavy #tf2 sniper #I have had Anxiety about posting this because I'm not trying to start something #I am just concerned because I've encountered this stuff in other fandoms before #but it's been like... way better recognized there #I don't know why more people aren't noticing it here #or why it's become so weirdly accepted

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yooglefics · 2 months

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hii! its been a few days since i found u and i love ur writing and stories!! could i request a fic where yoongi and (possibly) female reader have a fight over jealousy (its either her or him or both even idk) and its a little angsty idk but then they make up and its all fluffy 🤓🤓 thank u in advance luv

Hellooo. Thank you so much for your kind words and for requesting this! I really enjoyed writing this pair and some angst, I did a hint of both being jealousy, but is mostly him haha. Sorry it took me a while to finally post it, but I wanted it to be good, and I hope you like it!

Jealous, jealousy

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader Wordcount: 2,467 words Genre: AU. Established relationship. Angst and comfort / fluff. Summary: Jealousy has never been a problem in your relationship, not until a comment can't leave Yoongi's mind and interactions at your office’s party just make it worse. Content warnings under read more.

Includes: Jealous Yoongi. People thinking there's something between Jin and Reader… even Yoongi. Miscommunication. They argue. And then they're cute.

It all starts with the perilla leave question between Yoongi's friends one night out and a few rounds of soju in. As a self-identified non-jealous person, his answer was that it didn't mean anything, and even told the story about how it happened a few days ago when your coworker joined you two for lunch.

Jungkook, the non-identified most jealous person of the group, had obviously called him stupid. Questioned him about that guy and told him to be careful. “If I were you, Yoongi, I'd keep my eye on him.”

Little rascal; didn't even bother to use honorifics with him anymore.

But the worst thing is that the idea is now on his head and not even Yoongi knows how bad it is about to get as he steps into your office party a few weeks later. Now having the opportunity to see his girlfriend and her favorite coworker interact more in a familiar environment.

Even the ones who don't know Yoongi a lot, know he can be pretty reserved around new people, that's why you continue to make your polite round of interactions after saying hi and leaving him at a table with a whiskey and snacks. Promising to come back as soon as possible.

He looks at you across the room, all professional and sweet, the queen of small talk and polite smiles, and one forms on his own lips without realizing. Only doing so when it's erased as someone greets him, sitting down beside him and he tries to follow your steps at looking, at least, a bit cordial.

“I don't think I've seen you before. Are you here with ( y / n ) or Seokjin?”

“Yes, with ( y / n ).”

“Really?” She sounds genuinely surprised, “I didn't know she was inviting someone.”

“Well, I like supporting her, don't really need the invitation” he chuckles a bit awkwardly, “I'm her boyfriend.”

“Oh, so she is dating someone?” Again, the surprise in her tone makes Yoongi believe is a true emotion, and that confuses him.

“For a few years now, yes.”

“And here I was thinking that those two were going to be the next office romance,” she says sounding disappointed before realizing, “oh my— not that it's bad they don't, just… they are both attractive and you know…”

«Is that supposed to make it better?», he wants to ask, but instead he laughs, trying to dismiss everything as her hand lays on his forearm that is resting on the table, trying to reassure him as she goes on about him being handsome too and whatnot.

He stopped listening now. Because after that interaction, one hour seems long enough when half of that you have spent besides that guy, and Jungkook's words keep growing in his head as if he were watering them with the sweet alcohol. The one he has to switch hands to sip from now, because your coworker keeps the other prisoner of her hand.

Not even the excuse ( that is actually not really an excuse because he needs it ) to get a refill works and she only stops rambling his ear off when someone arrives at the place and she finally leaves the table to greet them.

“I saw you made a friend,” your sweet smile is almost enough to make him forget his thoughts when he is joined by you at the bar while ordering another whiskey.

“Well, figure I should while you had fun with yours.” he shrugs in an effort to dismiss negative feelings.

“Wait, did you actually make friends with her?” is your turn to sound surprised, corners of your mouth falling a little.

“Is a problem if I did?”

“I… I mean, I was joking but I don't like her very much. You can make friends with other people, though.”

“Ah, thanks for the clear up.” He walks back to the table to sit down, and even he can acknowledge it was a weird response, so, your next question doesn’t shock him.

“Are you okay?”

“What if I made friends with your best friend, what's his name?” he asks instead. Comments from others blurring his psyche, making him act without much thinking.

“Jin?”

“Is that his name? She called him Seokjin”

“Well, Seokjin, Jin for short. What's the big deal?”

“Nothing. Just… that's what she said when she asked who I was here with,” he explains before taking a sip.

“Of course she asked you that,” and eye roll accompanies your words.

“Yeah, because apparently you didn't say you invited your boyfriend.” but he thinks there is more important matters than you not liking your coworker. “As a matter of fact she didn't know you had a boyfriend.”

“Because is none of her business. She doesn't need to know about my relationship.”

“She does when she is talking about you and Seokjin having a romance.”

“What?!”

“Sorry. You and Jin.”

“Shut up, you know that's not what I meant. Can't believe she said that.” You steal a sip from his whiskey before continuing, “No actually, I can.”

He buffs. “You can?”

“Yeah, I told you, she is… not likable.”

“Just that? Not because it would be believable for you two to be together?” He asks, his annoyance clearer as seconds go by.

“Jin and I? Please, that's ridiculous.”

“Okay.”

“Why? Are you jealous?” You inquire, playfully. As if it would be impossible to be true.

“Yes.”

“Wait. Really?! But you have never been jealous.”

“Maybe I am now.”

“Because of Jin?” you’re confused at how serious he is being, but before you can question more about it, you’re interrupted by said guy.

“Oh, I was summoned. Hi.” he greets your partner, so casually since he doesn’t realize Yoongi is mad with him too. “Can you come back? I don't want to interact with those people alone.”

You look at your co-worker and friend for a few seconds, and then to your boyfriend, trying to understand what is happening and if he is actually jealous. Him, Min Yoongi, the less jealous person you’ve ever met.

“Go, have fun.” Your boyfriend encourages you, managing a smile that only confuses you more because is clear to you that it’s not genuine.

What the hell is happening?

You’re surrounded with interactions the rest of the night, from your co-workers to their partners, people seem interested in Jin and you, after all, it’s the first big party since the both of you joined the company. Even when you go back to sit with Yoongi people get close to make conversation, one person actually asks about wedding planing and tells you she can get you in contact with someone. You know she means well so, with your best smile, you thank her and change the subject.

You hate those conversations.

Having spent your childhood between your parents’ fights because «staying together for their kids» was a priority, when in reality it only made it worse for everyone involved, you grew up hating the idea of getting married. You understand it is for love, but you don't need a paper or a big party to announce that you love Yoongi. You don't need a ring on your finger to promise you'll do it forever. You don't need him to propose, let alone ask your parents permission to do so.

Is your life, your decisions. The only opinion that matters other than yours is Yoongi's and he has always understood, never pressured you. He is the love of your life, after all.

In the car on the way home, the silence is filled with music from the stereo and you try to take Yoongi’s hand on the gear lever as always, but only a couple of seconds pass before he pulls away, both hands on the wheel now.

Trying to figure out if it was on purpose, you ask, “What are you thinking about?”

“You spend a lot of time with him,” he says without a beat.

“You told me to go.”

“I mean in general.”

“We work together, can't really do much about that.”

“You weren't working tonight and still it was like you were joined at the hip.” he hasn’t looked at you and you can’t decide if it hurts or bothers you more.

“Again, you told me to go at the end,” you argue. “ If you wanted me to stay with you, you could have said so.”

“Now I have to ask you to spend time with me?”

“Well, I can’t read your mind, honey.” you poke his cheek, softly. An attempt to lighten the mood a little.

“That’s not the point.” His tone is just as serious. And then you know that, whatever this is, it’s deeper than you thought.

“What is it then?” you genuinely ask, annoyance starting to build up inside you, but trying to stay calm. Surely he can tell, you think. “You’re clearly upset, but why?”

“Shouldn't I be? When my girlfriend keeps hanging out with this good-looking dude and everyone thinks they could be a thing?”

“Really?” How can he even entertain those thoughts? You with another man? Doesn’t he hear how ridiculous it sounds? “Shouldn't I be upset because you let her touch your arm for like five minutes straight?”

“She was trying to console me.”

“Yeah, that actually makes it worse, Yoongi.”

“Yoongi?”

“That's your name.” He finally looks your way, but you’re looking at the road ahead of you and he can’t tell it is just in order to calm down.

“Wait. Why are you turning things on me?”

“Because you're being irrational and I'm not having this conversation.”

Once again the music is the only sound filling the air, and you opt for folding your arms in front of your chest to stop you from reaching for his hand again.

Now both of you are mad. Great.

Arriving home, he still gets out of the car first to open the door for you, and it helps soften the heartache a little. But still, the night repeats in your head, trying to understand what happened.

Why suddenly spending time with Jin is a problem? Why is Yoongi so jealous about it? And why—

“You let her touch you after she said Jin and I had a thing?” you ask as both of you are finally in the bedroom, getting ready to end the night.

“Thought we weren't having this conversation.”

“No. This one is different. This one is about you potentially doing things because you were upset with me.”

“That would be stupid.” He stops his movements, shirt unbuttoned just halfway through. “Why would I do that?”

“I don't know, you aren't exactly acting like yourself tonight.”

“Because I'm jealous?”

“Because we are fighting about you being jealous.” And trying to calm down once again, you continue taking your dress off, struggling with the zipper but too proud to ask him for help right now.

“Okay, let's not fight, then.” He sits down on his side of the bed. “Just answer this question: do you like him?”

“Yoongi—”

“Just answer. Please.” when you finally turn to him, the look on his face is different from what you expected. He doesn't seem angry, but hurt. Like your answer could break him.

“Of course not. Not like that.” You emphasize. Giving up on your clothes and kneeling in front of him, taking a breath before continuing. “You know we started at the same time and he is always nice and fun, I think he is my only friend at work because everyone else keeps asking me when I'm going to get married and leave. Like your friend.”

“What?”

“The lady you were talking to. Is always asking personal questions and I don't like it. Not because I don't like talking about you, I love you and I talk with Jin about you all the time, but is just…”

“Not her business. And you don't have to explain yourself to others.” he completes. Yoongi is the first to always remind you that after all.

“Exactly.”

“Sorry.” he is quick to say, feeling like an asshole now, a hand running through his hair, messing it up, “I really don’t know what is up with me tonight, I’m sorry.”

“Were you actually jealous of Jin?” the disbelief in your voice is funny now, and he nods with a chuckle. “That’s surprising coming from you.”

“I know. Is dumb.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” you move closer to him, hands on his shoulders to make him look at you, “your feelings are not dumb, Yoongi.”

“Can you stop calling me by my name tonight?”

“Sorry,” both of you laugh softly, “but I mean it. Even if it’s irrational to be jealous of anyone because I love you so very much and wouldn’t even dream to be with someone else; your feelings are important, honey. Just… you know, we have to work on a better way of expressing them.”

He chuckles again, still feeling bad about it all but appreciating the reassurance. “I will, promise. I just never felt like this before, is… weird.”

Yoongi has always thought jealousy is stupid. He understands feeling insecure and all that, but acting like he did tonight has always been something he didn’t understand. Something he judged. He thought it was about bad communication, distrusting your partner, and things like that. And, if you don’t trust the person you love, does it make sense to be together? But maybe is not as simple as that.

He didn't care if you had your own friends and went out with them, like some of the people he knows do. He has his own opinion on marriage and engagement rings. But maybe he cares in other ways. Maybe he cares about people thinking you're with someone else because that's probably his biggest fear.

“I don’t like jealousy.” he speaks again, bringing his arms around your waist, hugging you close and resting his head against your torso.

“Good, that means you are not toxic.” A pause while your hand combs through his hair, putting black strains back in place, “and now you know how I feel when people hit on you.”

“People don’t do that.”

“They do,” he looks up at you, but before he can argue anything, you cup his face and bend a little to peck his lips, softly. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone with her and without a warning.”

“I tried to get away but she wouldn't let go of my arm and I didn't want to be rude.”

His bottom lip sticks out in a small pout and you kiss it away, “Yoonie, sometimes you’re too nice for your own good.”

“Maybe I should be just nice to you.”

“You're too nice for that,” he rolls his eyes, making you laugh even more, “that's why I love you.”

“I love you more, baby.”

Protect them 🥺 Let me know what you think. comment, reblog, send an ask, follow or whatnot. Thank you for reading <3 ♡ Tag list: @n33mesis , @sexytholland , @mggv97 , @wobblewobble822 , @bbou-doir , @m00njinnie , @itsmina29 , @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d , @nariee02 , @ktownshizzle , @kimtaehussy .

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

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Was I an ahole for warning mutual's friend about his past? 🫶

I had a mutual in a big fandom circa 2017-2018. She was kinda sweet but shy, sometimes really bitter at people so I didn't get too close but we chatted often. Now my fandom had a big incest/ pedo shipping problems and she was one of the few people on my tl who were loudly opposed to it. I don't think she sent hatemails but she ranted in tags or her own posts often. Saying this because we had a few older fandom friends who were much more vocal and she followed their words like gospel. So the conclusion was like a betrayal.

Some years later I felt her slowly ghosting me before she finally left fandom and deleted her account. Then she came back after a few months in a new persona, totally new fandom, going by they/them, no attachment to their previous fandoms, like a new person. I don't know if they meant to hide their past or not. They contacted me and we became moots again.

Then after maybe a year I noticed that we were no longer mutual, we sort of ghosted each other as our interests diverged more so no big deal.

About 4 years since then I found myself getting into the thing they were last into. I accidentally stumbled upon their popular posts and decided to reconnect. They were going by he/him now so he was very nice and welcoming. He told me to chat with him and ask anything I needed to know, recced good blogs etc. We chatted frequently as it seemed like he was a completely different person, no longer shy or bitter, very openly into shipping and smut, happily engaging with dead dove content in the new fandom. This one also has canon incest, so I asked how he coped, he said he lost his mind in the old fandom he just filters the unwanted things out.

Now I don't know, how he changed that much or became friends with incest shippers, how he could be so casually okay with this when he was vocal about supporting survivors before. Then I saw him reblog posts shitting on sex repulsed people and some about BPD too. It wasn't hard to figure out why he changed so drastically.

I got really angry that day and accidentally sent a message to one of his "proship" mutuals how he really used to be. That guy saw my message, then blocked me, then my moot also blocked me without a word. I have regrets but I don't know what to do. Am I wrong for wanting him to not be friends with incest shippers? I miss him and I don't think he shipped them but he still joked about shipping them and being annoying. The last fandom harassed me a lot over not liking brother brother incest so I only have bad feelings. I don't think incrst shipping should be banned or anything extreme I just think they should have a separate platform so only they can see it.

#aita #am i the asshole #incest cw #ship discourse #misgendering cw

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fridayiminlcve · 2 years

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what is your problem with tiktok or booktok and colleen hoover lmao its not that bad surely

the fact that it actively promotes overconsumerism, the way it sells books to you by just playing into already heavily milked out tropes with very specific character niches that are seen in every book nowadays and how the reading is just seen as something aesthetic or a part of the "it girl routine" maybe? if those are enough reasons for you?

does the fact that these books are the first things you see when you walk into a bookstore not bother you? when you ask someone for a book recommendation they'll follow it up with "its a romance slow burn enemies to lovers". it's always about the aesthetic of the book, how many lines can you take out of context and post as a compilation of your super cute romantic annotations page on instagram. no analyzing the book, no theories, no symbolism or meaningfulness at all. how people stand reading those kind of books and still feel any kind of emotions over these flat as hell books with no world or character building is genuinely baffling to me

no one seems to know about actual literature anymore, which not to sound like a boomer but i think its definitely true. there's always been trend cycles, i agree such as the harry potter craze from the 1990s to the 2000s and the dystopia hunger games/maze runner/divergent blast in the early 2010s but tiktok has just.. shortened these cycles so much. as a result, people like our darling colleen hoover whose written around 46 books since 2015 (according to google) try come up with as much fresh content as they can as quickly as possible for the readers (see overconsumption). the fact that this lady outsold the bible is not outstanding to me, its fucking concerning.

and after all that, the result is badly written books with characters who're about as dimensional as a piece of paper, overuse of tropes, read like they've been written by a toddler, toxic-ass relationships being romanticised, very unnecessary sex scenes and countless other things. seriously if i wanted to read about the kind of stories hoover tells i would just open a wattpad account.

not clowning on those who made the choice to read it. i'm trying to highlight some of the flaws i find in authors like colleen hoover, sjm, ali hazelwood, casey mcquinston. some of them might be good, i wouldn't know because i actively try and avoid them at all costs. also i am BEGGING u all who will have an objection to this post to reach out of your comfort zone and read something different like non-fiction or fantasy or one of the classics for once if you only read booktok like seriously it might be hard but just do it for the love of god!! if you're annoying on this i will block you by the way i don't care

#nike muses #asks #anon #anti tiktok #anti booktok #anti colleen hoover #anti intellectualism

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bro-atz · 4 months

Text

if only it was simple [bro's 500 — hongjoong]

[enemies to lovers, smut, royal!au, hongjoong/afab!reader]

requested by: 🍀

in which: kim hongjoong is the bane of your existence, but you cannot seem to live without him.

word count: 2k

content: smut, bathroom sex, blowjob, facial, doggy, window sex, UNPROTECTED SEX (PLS WRAP UP IRL), consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: @pocketjoong @nebulousbrainsoup pls don't kill me i have more things to finish writing hehe

Every time your parents hosted a royal ball for all the neighboring kingdoms, you resented them because you hated the balls they threw. You honestly hated being royalty because that was just not something you vibe with. No, you liked peace, quiet, and when a sense of calm washes over the castle while you read all the books in the royal library. So, a mass gathering of people was definitely not your cup of tea. Gosh, how you would prefer a cup of tea over the stupid blood red wine in your glass.

It wasn't just the noise, either. It was the people who brought the noise. You didn't know how on Earth other princesses could gossip for minutes, hours, days, freaking eons, but they did, and you hated it. And the princes were just as bad, but rather than gossips, they just spread vulgarities. You wanted to wash your mouth with soap just listening to what they would talk about.

Prince Hongjoong of the Kim Kingdom was the worst of them all. He gossiped with the princesses, he engaged in the vulgar talk with the princes, and he treated you like scum. How you loathed him. You loathed the way he talked, walked, acted— the entirety of his being made you feel like he was put on this world to torture you. And, of course, that torturous being just had to approach you the second you fell within his line of vision.

"Hello, princess," he greeted you with a very obviously sardonic, sickly sweet voice.

"Prince Hongjoong," you bit back as you maintained eye contact with him.

"Ooh, yeah, I did not like the way you said my name just now, princess. Why don't you try a nicer tone? It would suit you."

"Go jump up your own ass and die."

"So mean," Hongjoong sniffled and wiped away his crocodile tears. "You should really treat your guests better."

You didn't even bother responding to him. You quickly turned your head away and walked away from Hongjoong, knowing that the man would not follow. He knew better than that.

While you desperately wanted a distraction, there was quite literally no one you wanted to distract yourself with. Again, you seriously hated these stupid balls. Rather than talk to another royal, you called over one of the butlers and tried to give him the glass.

"No, princess, you mustn't waste," the butler scolded you.

"Please, I didn't even want this in the first place," you sighed heavily. "Can't you just give it to someone else?"

"I'm sorry, princess, but I cannot do that either. You will just have to finish it."

Swell. With a wave of your hand, you dismissed the butler and cradled the glass in your hands, your fingernails clinking against it as you tapped your fingers. Yes, you knew not to waste food or water, but wine was not water, and it wasn't like you could give it to some starving child because children were not supposed to drink wine. So, you needed to dispose of it in another way.

It was when you accidentally made eye contact with Hongjoong again and saw the smirk spread across his face did you find a solution to your little problem. To top that, he was flirting with another princess from another kingdom, flaring up your irritation even more. You glided towards him and very purposefully spilled the dark liquid all over his jacket, effectively ruining it.

"Oops," you said rather flatly.

"Really?" Hongjoong responded with a sigh of exasperation followed by a half-assed chuckle.

"You should get that cleaned up! Here, I'll do it for you," the princess Hongjoong was talking to inserted herself between the two of you, ending your slight glaring contest.

"No, princess. It wasn't your fault. It was Princess Y/N's, so I believe she should take accountability for her actions," Hongjoong shook his head. Then, turning to meet your glare with a cheek smile, he added, "Don't you agree, Y/N?"

Before long, you were in your personal bathroom. You found the supplies you needed to get the wine stain out of Hongjoong's jacket, and rather than take the jacket off, he kept it on. He sat on the edge of the basin and waited for you to begin correcting your mistake.

"Be honest with me, princess," Hongjoong whispered as you got to work. "Do you have a problem with a wine or with me?"

"Both," you immediately responded. "But the lesser of the two evils is definitely the wine."

"That stings."

"Tough."

Hongjoong let out a scoff. He leaned back and observed you working on his jacket, the warmth from the alcohol he drank that night started to consume his body— it was either the alcohol or lust actually. To figure out which it was, he tucked the hairs framing your face behind your ear before placing his fingers under your chin, making you look up at him. He didn't mean to look down as he wanted to observe your facial features, but considering you were bent over, he got an eyeful of your cleavage. It was definitely not alcohol, but lust. His fingers then moved from your chin to your hair, his fingers raking through before grabbing a fistful. He ran his tongue over his lower lip before biting his lower lip, his eyes darkening with every passing second.

"Down on your knees, princess," Hongjoong said in a very low voice.

"Absolutely not," you flat out refused.

"You better listen to me when I'm asking nicely."

"Asking nicely would include the words "please" or "may", and I've never heard either of those words leave your tongue," you nearly spat out. "Besides, you said we would never do this again—"

"I know what I said, and I don't care anymore. Knees."

With a slightly wistful sigh, you lowered yourself to your knees, Hongjoong's lap before your face. Your muscle memory activated, and you got to work on undoing Hongjoong's pants, your fingers pulling at the waistbands.

"I thought you didn't want to do this," Hongjoong snickered. "But you seem so eager right now."

"Shut up, Hongjoong," you breathed out before revealing his hard red cock, your mouth watering.

You completely took Hongjoong by surprise when you immediately took him into your mouth, your head going all the way down, the tip of his cock brushing the back of your throat. Hongjoong flung his head back and bit his lower lip to hold back his moans. His hold on your hair got tighter, and he guided your head back up, his hand moving you at the calm, steady pace that he wanted.

“Yes, just like that,” he hissed through grit teeth. “Keep going, princess.”

When Hongjoong shoved your head down all the way every so often to get you to gag, it made you resent him a little more, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like the rough way he was treating you while you sucked his cock. You also kind of liked it when he praised you and massaged your head when he adjusted his grip of your hair, and when you heard his breathing hitch and his moans get higher in pitch, it filled you with excitement.

“Oh— I’m cumming!” Hongjoong groaned, his cock quivering uncontrollably in your mouth.

He pulled your head back and rubbed himself a couple times before decorating your face with white stripes. You licked your lips, the saltiness of his cum lingering on your tongue as you tasted him. While it was fun momentarily, you frowned at him and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Goddammit, Hongjoong, now I need to clean my face,” you grumbled as you stood up, your fingers already beginning to clear his cum from your face.

“Would you rather I have you swallow?” he asked cheekily.

“Honestly, yeah. It’s neater that way.”

You heard him let out a slight chuckle as you turned your back to him. You poured some water into the sink and bent over to begin washing your face, letting your guard down completely. You were so fixated on clearing the opaque off your skin that you didn’t even realize Hongjoong had approached you from behind and started undressing you from the skirt down.

“Hongjoong! What are you doing?!” you yelled at him as you tried to turn around and get him to stop.

“Princess, you can’t tell me that you don’t want this right now,” Hongjoong sighed as he forced you over the sink, his bare waist pressing against yours. “You’re so wet. It’s as if your cunt is begging for me.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Hongjoong’s moans earlier turned you on to an incredible extreme, and you were itching for relief. You pressed your lips together before admitting defeat and saying, “Then you better do a good job, or I will—”

“Don’t worry, princess,” Hongjoong interrupted. “I always do a good job. You know that.”

Spreading your ass cheeks, Hongjoong got a stellar view of your glistening cunt. He ran his tongue over his lower lip as his thumbs neared your folds and spread them, your gaping hole eagerly waiting for him to fill you up. He wasted no time in lining up his cock with your cunt and shoving into you, your entire body lurching forward with the impact. Your hands gripped the sides of the sink, your hold getting tighter as he began to move at a steady rhythm, the sounds of his waist slapping against yours echoing in the silence of the bathroom.

“Oh, princess,” the prince groaned blissfully. “You’re always so tight— you were made for me, weren’t you?”

You answered with a little yelp when he changed his angle and thrust upwards, his cock rubbing against your walls all the right ways. It felt so right, but truth be told, it wasn’t enough for you. Neither you nor him, apparently, as he grabbed your waist and pulled you upright. His cock left you for a split moment so he could turn you around to face him. He then led you to the sole window in your bathroom.

Bottles clattered to the ground as Hongjoong swept everything off the windowsill and hoisted you there. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he prepared to enter you, this tip of his cock teasing your clit. A whine emerged from the back of your throat as you gripped Hongjoong shoulder’s, the fabric from his jacket getting bunched up in your grasp.

“Don’t tease me,” you whimpered as you pulled him towards you.

Hongjoong let out a snort of amusement. Locking eyes with you, he did as you quite literally begged and stopped teasing you, his cock swiftly entering you and filling you up once more. You groaned in slightly relief before biting on your lower lip to keep all of your lewd noises to a minimum. However, Hongjoong didn’t like that. With his thumb, he pulled down on your lower lip, forcing you to let go.

“You know I like to hear you, princess,” Hongjoong murmured as his lips neared yours, his breath brushing past your lips.

“We can’t be too loud, though,” you replied through erratic breathing as Hongjoong’s thrusts sped up. “The ball is still going on.”

“What a shame,” he sighed.

So, to help you keep quiet, Hongjoong’s lips met yours, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth and tangling with yours. You moaned into his mouth as he kissed you feverishly, his waist gyrating into yours with incredible speed and vigor. Your hands moved from his shoulders to the back of his neck, your fingers running through the hair on the back of his head.

“O-Oh, Joong!” you cried.

“Are you close, princess?” he asked, his breathing hitching as he felt himself nearing his climax.

“Mmhmm… Oh, God!”

You flung your head back as you felt pleasure wash over you, white filling your vision. You were blinking stars out of your eyes when Hongjoong guided your face back down, his lips meeting your again as he seemed to not be able to get enough of you.

“May I cum inside, princess?” he asked you breathlessly in between kisses.

“Please.”

Hongjoong moved away from you slightly so he could get a better hold of you as he thrust rapidly into you several times before releasing his load inside you. His groan of ecstasy echoed in your ears as he dropped his head to the nook of your neck, his hot breath hitting your collarbone.

“Was that good enough for you, princess?”

bro's 500 event | bro's 500 event masterlist

bro's 500 taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @nakiiko @hyukssunflower @aaa-sia

@k-hotchoisan @hwallazia

networks: @atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet

@ksmutsociety @newworldnet @wonderlandnet

#ateez #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong ateez #hongjoong ateez #broatz #bro's 500 event #Spotify #atzhouse #cromernet #cultofdionysusnet #newworldnet #ksmutsociety #wonderlandnet

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sliverslipped · 11 months

Text

First impressions about you

Please be mindful of your words and as it's said not everything might resonate. This is a general reading. Take what resonates and leave the rest. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath after taking a close look at the images. Choose the one that attracts you the most. Feel free to choose two piles if you feel drawn to both.

Credits: Pictures aren't mine. I got it from Pinterest.

PILE 1

Queen of cups: you may come across as kind, a nurturer and someone who they could open up to. You seem to be someone who has unconditional love to offer. You may also seem to be grounded and is very much aware of your surroundings. You also seem to understand them and read them without there being not much conversation going on. You might also be a healer. You appear to be reserved.

Sveen of wands: You're standing your ground, demanding respect and not afraid to face confrontation. Even if you don't feel like this is you, it's how you come across to others. You seem to protect and hold what seems valuable to you closer. You're not scared to fight back even if you're outnumbered. It may also seem that you seem to be stable, having achieved everything and is merely protecting what's yours. You may also seem to have rivals or competitors. You also have clear boundaries set across you and though it may make these people uncomfortable do what it takes for you to protect your energy.

Six of swords: now this may seem as a conflicting energy but I do think that this was how you were perceived in the past, a coward. However those notions about you have changed as the ones who come across you no longer see cowardice but rather bravery and strength exuding from you.

Sun: You may have been through a lot in the past, running away from your problems and not facing it but you seem to have emerged out of it just like the sun. The sun emerges after a long night and in a way we could interpret it as you no longer being in the shadows or hiding but rather welcoming new challenges and situations with open arms and a smile. People can see it too that you're content with whatever you have in life, you're stable and though you may have been through a lot it doesn't hold you back anymore.

Page of swords: You seem to be the type to be straightforward and honest about who they are and what they want. Though that's the case some may also assume that you're rude and blunt. I also heard rbf so some of you may have that which adds onto these notions.

Oracle:

Something about you is alluring, making people submit and surrender themselves to you. They feel at ease, they let down their guards and they feel that they'll be able to trust you. Something about you demands respect. You may look like you have clear boundaries surrounding you which again makes them scared but there's also something about you that's trustworthy that they let their walls come down first. It may even take you longer to trust someone than it takes for them to trust you. Also some may be stressed out rn so do meditate and exercise. Again the word allure comes up as they can see that you have a lot to offer to the world and your potential seems to not be noticed as much as it should've been. You're like a beacon for others to follow.

PILE 2

Ten of Pentacles: wealth and luxury, you come across as stable, someone who has established a lot in their lives. You seem to be content and even if that's not the case you will be, in the future. Some may even see you as spoiled, making these assumptions just because you possess material elements and they don't. You also don't seem to be in need of material things as you have already achieved those and are in possession of it.

Two of pentacles: you may seem to be the type to handle situations well no matter what life may throw at you. You seem to be flexible, adapting to your surroundings and being resilient. They may also think that you're someone who's well balanced and can handle whatever tasks they're being thrown. While this might be the case and you probably can handle the stress that comes along with it, make sure to take breaks.

Nine of pentacles: You're independent, strong and self assured. You know your worth and you're fairly content with what you have achieved and has your arms opened to whatever life has to offer you. You also seems to be disciplined and have self control not losing yourself within the fantasies. You're stable and have accomplished success in your life. This seems to be a confirmation that even if you're not stable right now materially you will be in the future.

Page of cups: You might be artistic. You may also seem to be the type to be in your head.

Seven of cups: you seem to have a lot of choices whatever this might apply to. I'm specifically picking up romantic options and this might piss people off as you seem to not be content with what you have, romantically. They might also see your potential to have greater achievements and success in your life. However spirits are also warning you to evaluate your options carefully as all that gleams are not gold.

Oracle: they might realize that you're an empath, you feel things deeply and you might also be intuitive and maybe even spiritual. Whatever the case might be they see that you're able to see through them and that you're probably guided by your intuitions and to not mess up with you. You also seem like the person to accept your flaws and accept that it's human to make mistakes. They may also seem like they're polar extremes away from you in the terms of physical,material or personality wise but it might also mean that the partners you're attracting or the ones who you leave an impression on might feel this way or are polar Opposites of you. They may also feel insecure because of this. You may show different sides of yours to different people. Not that it is bad but in the eyes of others that makes you unique and probably they're confused too. (more so when they get to know you). You may also appear to be wise.

PILE 3

Knight of wands: You seem confident and fearless. No matter what situation you may find yourselves tangled in, you're sure you'll make it out of it. You also seem passionate and motivated. You may also seem volatile and this might scare people off initially. Someone who's confident in them and their abilities and is not afraid of confrontations. May also come across as arrogant and reckless and all over the place.

Ten of cups: you also seem to be the type to hold strong connections with your family and value the bonds that you have. May also indicate that you come across as a family person. Perhaps they've seen the way you defend your family or take care of them. It also represents harmony and peace. You seem to be content with what you have. Listen to your heart and follow where it leads you to, victory will be on your side alongside pleasure and love.

Nine of pentacles: You're independent, strong and self assured. You know your worth and you're fairly content with what you have achieved and has your arms opened to whatever life has to offer you. You also seems to be disciplined and have self control not losing yourself within the fantasies. You're stable and have accomplished success in your life. Even if you're not stable right now materially you will be in the future.

Three of swords: you might be hurt by a situation, they can pick upon that. They see the sadness in your face, they're able to read it. Though they may not outwardly ask what that might be about they feel it. You might be going through tough times though this will not last long is what I've heard. You'll emerge out of it. You may also be a heartbreaker, betraying people and their trusts, at least that's what they assume.

Five of swords: people may think that you're selfish and you may have betrayed people to get where you're today. Very negative, needless to say, but this is what I'm hearing. You may have been alienated from others and they might think that it's because of your own actions. If that's the case and that you have betrayed people to get where you are, do evaluate yourself and whether it actually serves you after achieving it. This might also be a past behavior as they no longer see you as one.

Oracle card: innocence, golden child. You seem to be so innocent and regardless whether you agree with this or not that's how you come across. Ironic that this showed up after five of swords. This might be the differing opinions from a wide variety of people. You also seem to be very spiritually connected and intuitive. While pile two seems to be more on the don't mess with them, they're intuitive and can see right through you, you're more on the intuitive and know what's happening around me but choose to stay silent unless provoked. You may also come across as the one who would stand up for themselves and others no matter how innocent you may look. You also seem to be the type to leave situations if it doesn't serve you and though it may come across as selfish to some, you're doing what you need to protect your energy and it's totally valid. You may also come across as studious or workaholic. Again you come across as a brave person, one who's not afraid of confrontations but wouldn't inititate it unless provoked.

Ⓒsliverslipped

#tarot community #tarotblr #pac #tarotcommunity #intuitive readings #oracle reading #pick a card #pick an image #tarot

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devilfic · 16 days

Text

❝right place, right time❞

X. we don't fight fair.

parts: previously plot: you and bruce talk some more about your arrangement. everyone wants to know what's going on with you two. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, angst is back baby, but so are the romcom plot beats, somebody get gordon a drink and get one for me too. words: 7.6k. a/n: LOTS of plot this chapter, but also some maybe cute things coming later. in between the horrors :D

It takes more coaxing than you would like for Bruce to let you leave alone two days later. Even with proof of a patient, he insists he send you in his car, with his driver and his guards. One of the cops on your detail had confessed they were feeling redundant, leisurely as they were anyway, parked outside General with coffees barely keeping hot in the November chill, “Just the one today, right doc?”

You snuggle deeper into your coat, hands eagerly grasping at the warmers in your pockets, “Just the one. If everything goes smoothly, I’ll be out before lunch.”

“Well, we’ll be here. Holding down the fort.” The two of them snicker to themselves. Glancing to the side, you see Bruce’s men: one in the driver’s seat of his car and the other waiting by the entrance for you. Unlike your detail, they dared not crack a smile for fear of looking too cheerful. You wouldn’t admit it out loud (because these cops were being paid to keep you alive), but you felt like your life was in much better hands with people who weren’t currently goofing around on the hood of their car.

“Right. Thanks, fellas.” You can’t be bothered to sound sincere, and from their general lack of acknowledgement, they don’t seem to care.

You spin on your heels, preparing to follow Bruce’s guard into the hospital, but nearly crash into a woman walking behind you. The collision has you stumbling and jumping back, Bruce’s guard jumping forward, and the woman baring her teeth at you in a… smile?

Her teeth glint bleach-white off the gathering snow, a few shades lighter than the hair smoothly pinned at her crown. Unlike everyone else shuffling past on the icy sidewalk, she is perfectly content with standing right in front of you under the porte-cochère. You supposed the black, mink coat wrapped around her person kept her all warm and toasty. You felt jealous. Then you felt like you should apologize for ramming into her, but nothing came out.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you,” The extravagant woman speaks first, glancing over her shoulder at the guard who now looms between the two of you, prepared to defend if need be, “Oh! Hello, pleasure to meet you.” She reaches a hand out to the guard and when he doesn’t go to take it, she snatches his hand up from his side in a firm handshake.

You’re more forthcoming with your hand when she turns to you, though you’re not at all sure why she’s bothering to introduce herself. Anyone else would’ve moved on by now. And flipped you off while they were at it.

“Ma’am, is there a problem here?” One of the cops pipes up from behind you, eyes fixed on the woman.

Her smile grows wider, “Not at all, officer. I just thought this all looked so… curious.” She gestures between the cop car and Bruce’s car with one French-tipped finger, “You wouldn’t happen to be a celebrity doctor, would you? Plumping up the pillow-faces of our city’s darling socialites, perhaps?”

You try to scoot around the woman, but she moves with you, keeping perfect eye contact with you the whole time, “I’m real sorry, but I need to get going. I have an appointment-“

“With Bruce Wayne?”

You flinch. The woman looks… familiar, now that you’re looking at her more closely. Her name escapes you. “Excuse me?”

“Bruce Wayne. That’s his car- well, one of them anyway. A source of mine says it’s the same one from two days ago when you both arrived together for… something. And the same one from a few weeks ago; if I recall, Mr. Wayne made a generous donation—a whole wing!—to Gotham General earlier this month. And now you’ve been spotted using his car. What’s that all about?”

The same cop from before flanks your side, locking you in with Bruce’s guard and this mysterious woman, “Lady, they’re busy. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“I only want to ask a few questions.”

“And they don’t have to answer. If you keep this up, I’m gonna write you up for harassment.”

She looked like she’d been waiting to hear that. She reaches within the folds of her coat and pulls out a badge, brandishing an ID for the cop to read, “Whatever happened to freedom of the press?”

You peer at the ID yourself, at the impeccably styled photograph of the same woman with the same blonde hair falling in loose, Hollywood curls that frame her smile. Beside her photo is her name: Vicki Vale. You suddenly remember where you’d seen her before.

Vicki knows you know, too. You try to sidestep her for the door but she crowds in on you, barreling through the arms that attempt to hold her back, “Are you Mr. Wayne’s doctor? Is he sick? Is he dying?”

Your lip curls back in a snarl, “What ever happened to HIPAA?”

That amuses her. “Is he in the car right now? Is that why you’ve got all this security? Is Bruce Wayne paying for your protection after you were taken hostage a few weeks ago?”

The cop grabs Vicki by the upper arm, managing to wrangle her away from you, but she only pivots to the car, tapping her nails on the tinted windows and calling out for Bruce to comment. You almost feel sorry for her, in the way you might feel sorry for a rabid dog walking in circles on a busy street.

You feel a hand on your back and Bruce’s guard ushers you quickly into the hospital, even as Vicki shouts after you for clarification on Bruce’s whereabouts. His expression, as always, is flat.

When you’re far enough away from the lobby, you ask, “Does that kind of thing happen to… him a lot?”

The guard doesn’t bother to pause in his stride, doesn’t even bother to look down at you as he answers, “Yes.”

You supposed if you had to deal with people like Vicki Vale all your life, you’d become a recluse too.

At the very least, you hadn’t said anything damning. She would have nothing to go off of with whatever soundbite she managed to grab from you, and God save her editor when they’d inevitably have to cut out her getting threatened by a cop.

She’d been waiting for you, though. How she knew you’d be here, at this time, meant she’d either been tailing you or she had someone on her payroll doing it for her. The thought makes your stomach churn.

Bruce had been in your office twice, but you had never been in his.

It was bigger, obviously; it’s two floors below the penthouse with a receptionist outside and some hallways leading to God knows where. The receptionist—Jennifer, who insists you call her Jenny—is very forthcoming with refreshments as you wait outside for Bruce’s meeting to finish. You decide there’s no better time than now to pick apart the marble floors and TVs on the wall replaying WE’s corporate reel.

The lobby downstairs was modern, clearly remodeled, but Bruce’s office and penthouse were comparatively frozen in time. You could almost picture the first Waynes walking through here all those years ago. Everything—from the luxurious leather chair you were sitting on, to the warm low light, to the gentle clicking of Jenny’s fingers on the keyboard, to the empty glass of sparkling water she’d given you had almost made you forget that you were currently living in the penthouse upstairs.

The door to Bruce’s office opens, breaking you out of your contemplation. A man in a fine suit walks out, chatting with Bruce, though you couldn’t see the latter from where you were sitting. You can only catch the last half of their conversation: something about an auction?

You don’t have much time to think on it. Jenny quickly rises from her desk and slips into Bruce’s office, and a few seconds later comes out to invite you in.

You don’t see Bruce at first. The room is just as big as you imagined. Bruce’s desk is right across from the doors, backlit by large windows letting in the noonday light. It’s a heavy, wooden thing that is far bigger than it really has any business being with next to nothing actually on it. And, notably, he is not sitting at it.

It takes you a second to spot him to your left at a built-in bar, washing out a glass of what looked like dark liquor down the drain. It isn’t until Jenny shuts the door behind you that he looks over at you, setting the empty glass on the counter.

Today, he’d forgone a sweater for a white button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. You noted the healed over cuts and scars on his arms and wondered if people asked about them the way you had, enchanted (rather than perplexed) by stories of martial arts hobbies with no concerns for where he went at night. He watches you thinking about it, but before you can ask, he speaks first, “So, you met Vicki.”

Your shoulders slump just at the mention of her. Bruce catches it and a smile, however small, warms up his expression. “Unfortunately.”

“Bet she made an impression.”

You cross the room in a few strides, undoing your coat and throwing it over a nearby chair, “She’s tactless. She said her source recognized your car and now she wants to know what we are to each other,” You pause in your ranting when you see him pour a bit of brandy into the glass next to him, “Is that for me?”

He casually hands it to you, “You look like you need it.”

You don’t have the marbles to take offense to that at the moment. You knock back the shot in one go, then go to pour yourself another one as Bruce watches you. After you throw back the second one, you realize that he hasn’t responded to you. “Weren’t you listening? I said she’s following us.”

“Plenty of reporters are, she’s not special.”

“Wh- sorry, what?”

Bruce shrugs, “Vicki Vale isn’t the only reporter in Gotham who knows what cars I drive, who I go to lunch with, or where I put my money.”

“Isn’t that…” You start to ask, but the way Bruce is looking at you makes you feel like your perfectly reasonable question has a perfectly obvious answer already, “…isn’t that bad?”

“Not when I know what cars they drive. I know who works for them. When I don't want to be seen, I’m not seen. They don’t have that luxury.”

“You keep tabs on all of them?”

You watch Bruce lean against the bar to face you, one hand in the pocket of his- okay, whoa. Either his thighs were getting bigger or his pants were getting tighter. You don’t remember his other suits being this… formfitting. You can’t help but notice how they stretch as he reclines, and though your eyes flick back up to his before he can catch you, he makes no mention of it… even if his eyes narrow some. He waits until he’s sure he has your undivided attention, “I like to be informed. Especially since we’re selling a narrative, now.”

“A narrative.” After a moment, it clicks in your mind. “That we’re together. The narrative we never agreed on selling.”

Bruce brushes right past that, “So what’d you tell Vicki?”

You pour yourself a third shot, though it’s a bit more modest. You cap off his brandy and move away from the bar as if it would silence the siren song of day-drinking, “I told her that asking if you're dying is a HIPAA violation.” Bruce's mouth twitches as if containing a laugh. "What?"

You watch him contemplate telling you, and then, as if he suddenly thinks better of it, he shakes his head. “You just reminded me. If we do agree to do this, I will have to fire you. Patient ethics."

“Which is another reason why we probably shouldn’t do it.”

His head tilts, “Probably?”

You flush. You sip on your drink, folding your other arm around your waist as he questions you with his eyes, “I just… I’m frustrated. I hate this. I hate that the safest choice here is to hide away while you take care of it. It’s not that I don’t trust you to do it, I just don’t want to run away.”

Bruce watches you in that way of his, calculating and assessing. “Going in alone is running away too. You’d be Isaac bound at the altar.”

“And you, Abraham? Delivering me to a cruel god?” A rush of exasperation sours his expression. “I’d be stopping him. It’s me he wants.”

“And what about your parents? Your friends? Judith? You’d be fine leaving them to bury you?”

“Of course I’m not- of course not.”

“Then you don’t have to do it. Trust me.”

“I do trust…” You stare at him for a moment, “I trust you. I have to. But you get that this is weird, right? Getting together for the press? Putting all eyes on us? You get why this feels weird for me, don’t you?” Bruce is quiet, holding your gaze steady. You know that this plan wasn’t his first choice, and yet he didn’t look nearly as put off by it as you were. Perhaps it was another way you two differed. Something else to chalk up to being so rich that things like this- maneuvers like this become necessary. “Why do you want to do it?”

He pushes himself off the bar, taking a step and then another until he’s squarely in front of you. You have to squeeze your hands into fists to tamp down the immediate flight response you feel being this close to him, seeing this almost unguarded side to him. It was different from the deer-in-headlights deal he had when you first met: open, but unsure. It rocks you that he doesn’t look so unsure anymore. You swallow and keep his gaze, but it feels like a lot more work for you than it is for him.

“You said you don’t want to hide, and I don’t want to make you. We need a good reason for me to stick by your side. This is a solution.”

“You don’t need to stick by me. I’ve got a detail, remember?”

“I don’t trust two cops to keep you safe.”

“Your guards, then. You’ve got more than enough to do the job for you.”

Something in Bruce’s eyes flicker, “Maybe I want it to be me.”

Your courage slips. Your lips part, sounding out words you can’t bring yourself to say. What do you say to that?

He wants it to be him. He wants to be the one to keep you safe.

Logically, you know he’s right. GCPD’s finest couldn’t hold a candle to his strength and dexterity. They couldn’t even keep him out of their servers. And his guards were better, but they were still fallible. A gunshot or a stab wound would take them out just as easily as it would anyone else. The man before you had survived both of those things and more.

Uncanny warmth unfurls your fists. It curls around your rib cage, through each bone, around each lung, worming its way up your throat and unspooling in your mind. You feel warm all over. It is a terribly strange feeling to have for Bruce Wayne, but you’re having it all the same.

If he was still just Batman to you, you might’ve done something you couldn’t easily take back.

You suddenly wish for the times when that was the case, when blindfolds were commonplace, so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye or think through how one might have gone through with those thoughts, if one had the chance- “As far as reasons go,” you struggle around the lump in your throat, “That’s not the worst.”

Bruce smiles.

He skirts around you and heads for the desk as you watch him go, the scent of him finally permeating past your defenses. He didn’t smell like green apple today—more sandalwood or pine—and as you debate on the specific notes, he comes back to you with a flier in hand. It takes your scent-drunk mind a minute to read it.

Gotham City Food Bank presents: The Thanksgiving Bachelor Auction!

You stare. Bruce is still holding the flier out to you, expecting a reaction. You can’t really think of one. “Uh.”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Why…?”

“The food bank puts together Thanksgiving baskets every year for the needy: turkeys, tofu, yams, stuffing, the works. They do a charity event to raise money to stuff the baskets. It’s for a good cause.”

“That’s awesome. What does this have to do- oh, fuck.”

Bruce raises his eyebrows. You recall what the man from earlier mentioned about an “auction”. You snatch the flier away to look at the finer details. It would be this weekend, there were six bachelors planned (including Bruce), and each person was encouraged to bid big for charity. Dinner would be provided. It sounded nice.

“You can bring Dr. Madison,” Bruce offers, “I think she likes me.”

She does. She painfully does. You could imagine her emptying this month's and last month's paycheck on a date with Bruce. Taking him to the nicest (and least vandalized) sushi joint in the city, engaging him with tales of the kids she's saved and her love of Broadway. Pampering him with praises for his charity work, admiring him openly and easily, charming him the way she charmed him at General.

She is a charming, sweet, beautiful woman. Bruce would look very good with her, even for charity. You wonder what things would've been like had he broken into her apartment instead of yours.

“Just wait 'til she finds out you personally invited her," you force a laugh, "She's going to have to take out a loan."

"I didn't know you were planning to bid on me, too." He's joking. Obviously, he's joking, if the barely restrained smile is anything to go by.

"In your dreams, maybe." Bruce shrugs. "But... I thought we were creating a narrative. Letting someone else buy you for a night isn't very romantic." You hate how hesitant you sound, like the idea of it displeased you. You don’t mean to sound that way, of course. It's just that if anyone were going to go on a date with Bruce... shouldn't it be you?

“The dates are just for fun. You'd be my real date.” His real date. God. “It would make you look like a good sport." He sees you mulling it over, still unsure. He folds the flier into his pocket. "Or not. We don't have to tell them anything yet. I wouldn't want to make it awkward for Dr. Madison if-“

If what? If she found out you were "dating" Bruce days after telling her to her face that you didn't know his relationship status? God forbid she rub it in your face after you spent so long being indifferent about him. “It's fine. We'll come. But maybe hold off on calling me your real date until you’ve fired me. Officially. You know.”

“I'll have my people talk to your people.”

You feel queasy at the smile he gives you, so casual and reassuring. You could really use a lie-down right about now. “Okay. Well. I’ll see you at home.”

Bruce blinks, but you’re already heading for the doors of his office before you've realized what you just called his place. You hear a quiet “see you” from behind, but you don’t dare to look back.

“Please don’t agitate the inmates. We are liable for anything that happens to you on the premises, but if you go poking around where you shouldn’t, that’s on you.”

The corrections officer hands you a clip-on badge with your name on it, but when she goes to ask Batman for his ID, she hesitates.

“He’s with me.” Detective Gordon assures her from his other side. The officer’s eyes narrow. James raises an eyebrow, “I talked to the warden about it. If you’d like to bring it up with him.”

That seems to be all the convincing she needs. She passes James his badge and gestures for you three to continue on down toward the visitation room.

It had been a hassle getting Bruce through the metal detectors, and it had been distraction enough that it didn’t weigh on you just who you were going to see until you were already in the room.

It was wide, with vending machines and a couple of tables scattered about, barred windows allowing a look into the unusually sunny afternoon outside. A handful of inmates were already there: some visiting family, others meeting with lawyers. It made it easy to spot him. Lucien was the only one alone, and from the looks of him, he was more happy to see you than you were to see him.

As you three walk over, he stands from the table, grinning ear-to-ear. You barely remembered his face from when you were younger, save for the same patchy beard that had yet to fill in after all these years. He greets Bruce first, holding out a hand, “Wow. You know, I’ve never seen you up close before. Kinda glad about that.”

Bruce does not shake his hand. Lucien’s smile is unwavering. His eyes slide past yours to meet the detective’s, and James shakes his hand out of pity.

It isn’t until you and James sit down that Lucien finally looks at you dead on. “You look good.” You feel your stomach lurch. It didn’t feel good to hear, especially when he looked at you like freshly caught prey. When you make no move to reply to that, he shrugs, “I almost didn’t recognize you. I hear you’re a doctor now. Really worked your way up from gutter trash, huh?”

Your expression hardens and he snickers.

James cuts in for you, “Mr. Goulding, we requested a visit because we think you might be able to help us with an ongoing case you were involved in. Can you tell us what you remember about Dimitri Young?”

Lucien’s eyes slither back to James, “Not much. Kid wasn’t with us long. He was… skinny. Cried easy. Up Nat’s ass all the time.”

“Were you close with Ms. Young?”

“Yeah, yeah. You could say that. We worked with each other. Ran the trade for a while with a couple other kids. Got a lot of customer service experience back then. She was… nice. Shame what happened.”

James raises an eyebrow, “Seems like you were on good terms. And after Natalie was killed, did you keep up with Dimitri? Visit him at Arkham, maybe? Write him letters?”

Lucien glances at you. “Well… it was tricky. Thanks to the good doctor and friends, I had to steer clear of the whole thing for a while. Felt bad for the kid, though. When I heard about the plea deal… I’d have taken life here over Arkham. I don’t care how fucked up the kid got over Nat’s death. What they’re doing down there?” He looks over at James and grimaces, “That’s the real criminal shit.”

You remembered that. His lawyer had pleaded insanity under the guise he’d get parole on good behavior, gain sympathy for having lost his only family so brutally. You remembered what Bruce said too; he’d been good. He was doing good until he saw you.

James gears up to ask another question but Lucien cuts him off, “Are they gonna talk or are they just decoration?” He points his finger at you and Bruce who hovers over your shoulder.

You wring your hands underneath the table, feeling Bruce’s eyes burning into the back of your skull. The truth was that you had a list of questions to ask him. You’d stayed up all night writing them down, rehearsing them.

Now, you could only remember Natalie and the barrel of her gun.

Lucien was there, too. He was on the frays of the memory as he always was. The shootout had yielded successes and failures, and Lucien, who’d been there that night—who laughed as Alex laughed and laughed harder when the bullet nestled itself into the meat of her brain—had not been found for years after that. You thought sometimes that you saw him on the street, but his appearance in your memory was just as frayed.

It all comes back to you now that you’re sitting in front of him. The everyman, a person meant to blend into the crowd. It didn’t surprise you that he’d managed to stay out of here for so long.

“…You don’t have to if you’re not ready.” James’ voice floats in between your musing, making you aware of his and Lucien’s eyes on you. Lucien is still smiling, strands of golden hair slipping out of the small bun at the back of his head.

“Why did you stay with the Vipers for so long?”

Your question surprises him, like he hadn’t expected you to have a voice after all these years, “I was open to new opportunities. But they paid well and you’re almost guaranteed a good position if you don’t get gunned down before 18. I was running my own little unit of teenyboopers before I got locked up.”

You frown. How casual he is describing it all. “They didn’t toss you aside as soon as you got too old to control?”

“No, no. That was your friend’s big issue, wasn’t it? Scared to be controlled. Nah. The boss man liked me. You know they like ‘em young, easy to impress upon and all that. They want the lifelong loyalty. I’ve never been that devoted, you know? But I liked the money.”

“Do you know what happened to Dimitri?” This question, Bruce asks. For the first time, you see Lucien’s smile dim some.

Lucien clears his throat, “No. Kid kick the bucket?”

“He broke out with some inmates not too long ago. He’s on the street hunting down people related to Nat’s case.”

Lucien looks from Bruce to you, then breaks out into a fit of hysterical giggles. The sound is grating to your ears. “Holy shit. He wants to kill you.”

“He’s killed one person already,” James stresses, trying to save you the humiliation. “We need to know if you think he could be working with the Vipers again. We believe someone is supplying him with… venom.”

“Venom? Fuck me. That’s expensive, especially those newfangled strains they had on the street when I was out. Can really fuck you up if you’re not careful.”

“Did the Vipers have their hands on that kind of stuff? You were a lieutenant after all.”

“Maybe. Not as much as they did drops. That was all the rage. Venom’s too volatile and, like I said, it can really fuck you up,” Lucien exhales hard through his nose. “If Dimitri’s on that, he’s not gonna last. Especially if the Vipers are giving it to him.”

You frown, “Why especially?”

“I mean, come on. Same reason you and your friend beat the shit out of him all those years ago,” You flinch at the memory. “He was weak and nobody gave a shit about him except Nat. My guess is the kid probably went back to ‘em for help, and they saw an opportunity to make him a lab rat.” You feel Bruce shift behind you as his cape brushes what little of your arm you were allowed to leave exposed here. Lucien’s eyes drift up Bruce’s body, sparkling with some new recollection, “And with Mr. Vengeance on the streets, I imagine juicing your best men up with venom oughtta make a nice challenge.”

Lucien watches as you process what he'd realized instantly. Behind the feigned impassivity, some little bit of him seems to find this just as awful as you do. Even if it's just pity, a shake of the head as foresight grants him the knowledge that what comes next will undoubtedly be a tragedy.

It had to have been Dimitri’s first time on venom when he attacked Russo, and as uncoordinated as he was, he had put up a fight against Bruce. You couldn’t imagine what he’d be like if he got better at it. If he got more of it. And he would, if the Vipers had any sense. You knew they didn't give a shit about you, or Russo, or Alex, or Dimitri. They were just hoping that his rage would make a casualty out of the Batman.

He was going to kill himself for the chance. And the Vipers wouldn't care. They would leave his doped up, bloated carcass in the street like they had left Nat.

You realize that you aren't breathing when you feel a cool hand on your upper back, closing around your scruff and sending a jolt of awareness through you. You almost think that it's Dimitri—having crawled out of your racing thoughts and come to take you once and for all—before realizing that it was Bruce, hovering so close now that his cape brushed your shoulders. His leather-clad thumb brushes against the nape of your neck, and when you look up to see him looking down at you, you catch him imploring you for something. Urging you to get out of your head.

Looking at him reminds you to breathe. You take one deep breath in, holding his gaze, and turn back to Lucien.

When you do, he looks different now. His eyes linger on Bruce’s hand. When you ask him your next question, he doesn’t seem to delight in the drama of it anymore, “After Dimitri was put away, what did the Vipers do?”

Lucien stares at you, then past you. His tone is solemn after a few moments of silence, “It was business as usual. They packed up what they could, moved to their other safe-houses in the city, relocated and reallocated. They talked about… the kid costing more than he was worth. Handful of us pitched in and got Nat a grave. I’ve been a few times. Not recently. It was nice.”

“Where?”

His eyes narrow at you, “Why do you give a shit? You feel guilty? Wanna leave some flowers for the dearly departed?”

You feel your lower lip wobble and you curse the feelings burning inside you. You were trying so hard to keep it together. “Do you think any of the Vipers would bother to tell him?”

He stares at you for a minute. Someone new walks into your peripheral view. It’s one of the correctional officers warning you about time. Something soft coats Lucien’s voice then, "She's in St. Agatha’s cemetery, near the treeline. The name on the marker is Adelpha Lions. We couldn't bury her as Natalie.”

Adelpha Lions. St. Agatha's. You think about bringing her flowers, but the thought leaves a terrible taste in your mouth.

The officer from before comes back to escort the three of you out, and Lucien doesn't bother to acknowledge her or James thanking him for his time. He only watches you, leveling you with a look of such contempt that you feel your chest hollow out, breath stolen again. He watches you well until the door to the visitation room swings shut.

Bruce and James walk ahead of you, though you notice that Bruce lags behind, glancing back at you every once in a while to make sure you're keeping up. James mentions something about keeping an eye on the cemetery, just in case Dimitri does know about it, and it leaves the same terrible taste in your mouth from before.

You know you ought to say something, but you find yourself drifting after them, mind elsewhere, stuck on the way Lucien looked at you. It was like a switch flipped when he saw Bruce touch you.

Why had he touched you? So blatantly, so intimately? He had to have known how that would look. Could it have been that he didn't care? Or, that he cared more about you?

You peek at Bruce’s profile as you walk; the cold lights above you both make the black of his cowl stand out, but they also make the blue of his eyes that much more piercing when they suddenly zero in on you. Your name is called. You look to the side and see James staring at you, expecting, worried almost, “You good back there?”

“Sorry. What?”

“I said I’d like to talk to you.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“Alone. If you don't mind.”

You look at Bruce. His eyes have focused on James now, searching for what he might want to talk about. You wished you could read minds. You decide it couldn't hurt to ask, “Can I ask what about?”

“Just some... questions. We haven't had the chance to really speak since the night you were attacked. I'd like to follow up with you." You bristle when you realize he expects Bruce to fully leave. James notices, glancing between you and Bruce. "I’ll drop you back at Wayne Tower, since your detail says that’s where you’re staying now.” When you don't make a move to confirm, he sighs, jerking his thumb toward the exit, "...I'll let you two talk."

You watch him walk toward the parking garage, just as Bruce crowds up against you, dropping his voice to a whisper, "He wants to know about me."

"Yeah, no shit. What do I say to him?"

"I told him I'd look into Bruce Wayne to keep him off my trail. There's not much I can do since you told him what you saw." You can hear the irritation bleed through his words. "As far as he knows, Bruce Wayne could be a suspect and you could be in danger."

You curse under your breath, "So I need to clear your name."

"What exactly did you tell him the night you were attacked? Exactly."

"I... I said that I had reason to believe... uh, confidential information was leaked to Bruce."

"Did you tell him exactly what the information was?"

"No."

"Did you tell him where you saw it?"

"No. Just that I knew you knew something you shouldn't. But he knows I had no proof."

Bruce goes quiet. You see him looking off to the side, eyes flicking to and from as he thinks about what to say next. Each second feels like a minute, and you keep watch over the direction James went for fear he'd come looking for you after too long.

You feel Bruce's hand take your upper arm and he brings you closer, tucking you away from the security cameras overhead and into him instead, "Can you lie?"

"You want me to lie to a detective?"

"We don't have a lot of options here. Can you lie?"

You frown, biting into your bottom lip to ground yourself. The pain focuses you some, "What do you want me to say?"

It's your luck that James is patient. A few minutes later, you find him propped up against the trunk of his car, hands in his pockets as he waits patiently for you and Bruce. Bruce gives you both a single nod before heading off to his own car, leaving you alone with the detective and the world of questions he could be gearing up to ask you.

But before you prepare yourself for the first one, James walks around to the driver's side door, flashing you a playful look, “You ever seen the Bat Signal up close?”

The answer was obviously no, but now that it was right in front of you, you wanted nothing more than to see it turned on. You'd seen it light up the cloudy night sky a million times it felt like, and it never failed to take your breath away. It's far too sunny out to see it now. As the chilly breeze tries to sneak under your clothes, you turn to watch the sunlight glint off the skyscrapers, enjoying the little bit snowy Gotham afforded this late in the year.

The city’s still loud from this high up, but it’s different. Kind of like how it felt watching the city from the penthouse. Up here, it felt secluded. Private. Perhaps that’s why James picked it. He kicks the base of the floodlight with his shoe and it barely tremors, “Was a hell of a time trying to get this thing up here. Chief's still coming around to it.”

You think about the burner phone in your pocket. Bruce’s relationship with the rest of the GCPD was… strained at best, but he and James seemed close; you wondered just how deep their relationship went, exactly. Apparently, not deep enough to tell him who he was.

His voice catches your attention just then. “You living with Wayne, now? How'd that happen?"

You breath out a heavy sigh, “I uh… yeah. He offered. After the whole thing with Dimitri. Just until he’s caught.”

“That’s awfully generous.” You don’t respond to that, so he presses more. "Did he offer or did he...?"

"He offered. No coercion." That wasn't entirely the truth, but you had no room for nuance right now.

“Do you feel safe with him?”

“I do.”

“You seemed worried when we first talked about him. You said he had your file.”

“I... I said that I thought he had access to it. Because of something he said."

James’ eyes narrow at you, watching you with his head tilted. “What'd he say to you?"

"He just mentioned something about the... the case. I told him where I grew up and it jogged a memory."

"Is that so?"

You cursed how apathetic James could make himself look. You had no clue if this was working on him, only that you had to follow through with this, seams tight, no loopholes. "He heard about the shooting. His butler, Alfred, he's always been really protective of Bruce. Everyone knew the Vipers snatched kids with no one to check on them, I think he just wanted Bruce to stay safe. Make sure he didn't make the wrong decision if he went out and got himself in trouble. Like I did."

"So, you told Wayne where you grew up, he brought up the shooting, it triggered something in you. You assumed he knew about your file and you felt threatened. That's why you went to the Bat."

"Yeah."

"And now... nothing?" James raises an eyebrow, gesturing to the empty air. "It's all good now?"

It wouldn't be a good story if it was all good. You twist away from James, leaning against a nearby pillar, "Not exactly. I don't know if he really knows or not, it just felt like a scary coincidence. You know? But I told Batman and he said he'd look into it. I trust him above all else."

"You seemed so sure the night I interviewed you."

"I was looking for patterns."

James hums. "The Bat seems to really like you."

That a was a shift. You perk up a bit. “What do you mean?”

“He speaks highly of you. Says I can trust you like I trust him. If you say you feel safe for now, I trust you." Your skin prickles with flattery. "There's just something that's not quite making sense to me."

“Oh?”

"When I looked into your file, nothing looked out of place. GCPD keeps a log of who accesses a file, and from what I could tell, it hadn’t been touched in years. It looked fine… at first.”

Had this been a few days ago, this information would have shook you to your core. It still does, but for an entirely different reason now.

“I’m—admittedly—not great with computers. Normally, I’d ask the guys down in IT about this kind of thing, but seeing as… anyone could be involved, I had my daughter take a look at it. She-“

“Your daughter?”

James pauses. You were no cop, but that didn’t sound particularly legal. Then again, you didn’t have much room to speak. “She… she showed me the metadata, beyond just the stuff we usually see up front, and she found something. The database logs who accesses what because poking around files you have no business looking at can get your badge taken. Needless to say, she found more than a few things wrong.”

“Oh?” This time, your “oh” sounds decidedly more nervous.

“The name and badge number of the last person to access your file was scrubbed from the frontend, but it was still available on the backend. It was an officer, Paul Brown. When I pulled him aside to ask why he needed your file, he claimed he didn’t know anything about it or you. He seemed to be telling the truth, but doing some further digging, I found a trail of cases he’d been accessing over the past two years. Cases related to certain notable figures in the city.”

Notable figures. Like Bruce? Was there more he hadn’t told you?

"I found a connection between those cases and some recent movement from the Penguin. Turned out the guy was a mole feeding intel to Cobblepot. And not just him. I was checking the files he accessed against a timeline of events, and I have reason to believe he’s been feeding a couple of politicians the same need-to-know information. Politicians like Daniel Roberts.”

“Councilman Roberts.” You feel your blood pressure rise as James nods, “Detective, I don’t mean to be rude, but should I even be hearing about this? This sounds serious, way too serious for me-“

“You were there that night at the party Wayne threw, and so was Roberts.”

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean anything. There were tons of politicians there who support the mayor. Bruce is interested in politics. Doesn’t mean he’s in bed with them.”

Your defense seems to intrigue James. He rests an arm on the floodlight, “Did the two seem chummy at the party?”

“They didn’t really… talk. I mean, he intervened when I got into an argument with Roberts, but-“

“An argument about what?”

You could kick yourself. It was like this man had a skill for drawing the truth out of you. “It was stupid. He said some stuff about Batman and it got me riled up. Bruce put out the fire.”

“Roberts is the most vocal anti-vigilante member on the city council. Now I know he's connected to a dirty cop, and that he's in Bruce Wayne's circle. Doesn't that seem a little strange to you?”

You swallow, “What exactly are these questions leading to, detective?”

James moves away from the floodlight, approaching you slowly, cautiously, as if he expected you to take flight the second he got too close. “You told me that night that you knew Wayne had information about you he shouldn't have. I found the thread, I pulled it, and now I find Wayne at the center all over again. I'm looking for patterns, too. So, I'm going to ask you again," You watch him reach into his pocket and pull out his phone, flipping the screen to you. In big, bold text, it reads, "NOD IF WE'RE BEING RECORDED" "Are you sure you're safe?"

You should win an Emmy for how you school your expression into one of complete nothingness. All the while in your head, you are cursing the very bed Bruce was conceived upon. You curse him for leaving you here to explain all this, but most of all, you wish you’d kept his bottle of brandy.

You shake your head. James blinks. "I'm sure." You watch him exhale heavily, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "I'm telling you what I believe, detective. I believe I was wrong about Bruce Wayne."

"Maybe. But maybe there's more out there I still need to find."

"You're a good detective, James. Thank you for caring so much. If you can't trust me, trust Batman. If there's something to find, he'll find it."

You can see the slight shake in James’ shoulders. You wonder if he’s starting to freeze up here. You reach into your pocket and hand him one of your warmers, and though he recoils when you first hold out your hand, he thinks about it for a moment, then takes it. "You and the Bat..." He starts, rubbing his thumb against the heat pack in his hand. "He tell you who he is?"

You dodge the question as stealthily as you can, "Did he tell you?"

James considers your question, stern-faced and shivering, “No. But I have my theories." After a moment, he side-eyes you. "You didn't answer my question."

"It's... not for me to say."

He's not satisfied, and you didn’t expect him to be, but he looks too tired to argue now. He runs a hand along his face and looks out onto the city horizon. Under his breath, you hear him whisper, “Yeah. I figured.”

"He trusts you a lot, you know. For the record. I can see why."

You watch him reach into the pocket of his coat and pull out a lighter and cigarette, bringing it to his lips to take a long, deep drag. He holds one out to you, but you shake your head. You'd never been one for smoking (you'd seen the effect it had on the insides), but you could envy the temporary peace on James' face as he blows out a cloud of smoke. "Not a lot of that to spare these days."

a/n: this was a bitch to write with a headache

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman fic #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #dc #mjwrites #bw; rprt

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pinksatinsashes · 9 months

Text

The Dream Girl's Guide to Setting and Achieving Goals

If there's one thing that I am insanely good at, it's planning and setting goals.

However I have not always been great at achieving them.

Call it laziness, lack of self discipline or being over ambitious, you can take your pick. But every year I would set goals and every year I would never achieve them.

This year I was, and am determined to transform. I'm tired of putting it off. I've tried a completely different method (read about that here) and it's finally working out, I cant't wait to share it with you.

Why is Setting and Achieving Goals Important?

Setting and achieving goals will forever be important, no matter what stage of life you're in if you don't want time to pass while you stay in the same place.

If you're happy staying exactly as you are, looking the same way, doing the same thing everyday, making the same money, dating the same guy or having the same conversations, year after year after year. Then this post simply isn't for you.

But for the rest of us, who want more, who understand that wanting something different means that you have to do something different, who want to grow, learn and develop and that who understand that time is the most valuable thing that we have; setting and achieving things, day after day, month after month and year after year is insanely important.

If you are one of us, I'm sure you already knew that, the issue might be actually following through.

You're good at setting goals, not so much with actually achieving them?

Maybe it's not your fault, maybe you're just doing it wrong.

------------- How To Set Goals -------------

How many of us start the new year, or the random day that we decide we need to be better by writing a list of Goals?

Maybe that list looks something like this.

Lose 10lbs

Grow Hair Longer

Dress Better

Save Money

Get 1000 followers on X platform

Can you see the problem here? My STEM girlies are yelling at the screen saying that the goals aren't SMART (Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Timely).

The real problem?

All of these goals are end products.

And to eliminate this problem, and make these goals better, we have to turn them into habits.

-------- How to turn Goals into Habits --------

Let's go through our list again.

Lose 10lbs -> Workout 4 times a week, do one form of excerise a day and eat at a caloric deficit.

Grow Hair Longer -> Keep hair in protective styles, use hair growth oils daily, only brush hair when in conditioner

Dress Better -> Sell the clothes I don't like to buy clothes I do like, do a closet clear out once a month, only buy things that are high quality

Save Money -> Budget all money once a month, unsubscribe from things I no longer use, declutter and sell things I no longer need once a month.

Get 1000 followers on X platform -> Post 3 times a week, create meaningful content, reply to all comments left on posts daily, interact with posts from others in the sam niche every day

Can you see the difference?

By changing your goals from the end product to the process these goals suddenly mean more. They're more helpful and seem much more achievable.

End goals cannot always be controlled, you can do everything right, post 3 times a week, reply to all your comments and your following count may still not change for months... then all of a sudden something goes viral and they'll call you an overnight success.

By shifting your focus to the things you can control, rather than the end product, your sense of achievement comes from your consistency and hard work, allowing you to keep going even when you don't see any changes.

This prevents you from giving up when success could be just around the corner.

-------- How To Achieve Your Goals --------

Now that we've gone through how to set Goals, lets talk about how to achieve them.

A lot of people just stop at the first part and never think about the things that they can do to ensure that their goals are met.

Never stop at the list.

Why?

You have no initiative to ever look at this list again so you'll most likely forget you even wrote them down in a few weeks

You haven't factored how your life may make achieving these goals a priority.

The answer to this problem?

Turning your Habits into Routines.

It's all well and good setting goals, even setting good goals. But you also need to make sure that you're creating an environment that's conducive to the goals you want to achieve, the habits you want to keep, and the life you want to create.

------- How to turn Habits into Routines ------

We've written down all our goals, turned them into habits and now it's time of the most important part, turning them into routines.

This is important because consistency is key, always. Instead of saying that you'll do something 3 times a week and leaving at that, let's go deeper.

Which days of the week will you do it? What time? For how long?

Leaving it up to chance is risky. What if you forget?

We need to create consistent routines.

Pick which days to do your habits

Pick what time you'll do your habits

Pick how long you'll do them for

Pick what you'll do before and after.

Try to make this as consistent as possible, for example, same time every day, same day every week.

Make sure that every single hour is accounted for, even if it's just set as free time.

Its easy to convince yourself you don't have enough time to do things, let's put all the things you have to do into a spreadsheet with how long it'll take and when you'll do it. Better yet we can use a calendar app or website.

See all the free time you've got?

Now creating routine is so much more than writing it down and doing it everyday or every week. At first you may have to check the app every five seconds to see what you're meant to be doing but if you stay consistent, after a few weeks it'll become second nature.

------------ Removing Distractions ----------

Organising your time and creating a routine is really eye-opening because it gives you a chance to wonder what the f*** you've been spending your time doing.

Nothing productive probably. Take a look at your screentime, what apps are you spending your time on? How long are you spending? Is this part of the life you'd like to build for yourself?

It might be time for a break.

I am being so honest when I said that getting rid of every single distraction that could be keeping me from my goal was the single most important decision I could've made when planning 2024.

I went full on, no Netflix, no YouTube, no music, no games, no social media. No distractions. For at least the first month of my new routine and I plan on only adding everything back slowly.

I advise you do the same.

Remove the things that you can see could distract you from your goals. What's keeping you from going to bed early? What would you rather do than going to the gym?

I'm telling you, I haven't stopped working on myself, because I genuinely have nothing better to do. I've cut all the distractions out. Going on my one hour walk is now what I look forward to all day. The gym is the best part of my day.

My days currently consist of self improvement, wellness podcasts, reading Jane Austen, being active, cleaning my spaces, skincare and early nights.

But it feels like I'm living my dream life? Whenever I think of my ideal day it's never included 4 hours of mindless scrolling or spending 2 hours down a YouTube rabbit hole.

When I think of my dream life it's always been home cooked meals, reading and fancy skincare routines. I couldn't be happier and I really don't feel like I'm missing out on anything.

TRY IT.

This is probably the most important step because the power that distractions have on us is so real.

You can do all the planning and have the best intentions but if your want to play games, scroll mindlessly on social media, text a guy that doesn't care about you or engage in celebrity drama is greater than your want to be better? Good Luck Charlie.

---- Making Your Goal Your Obsession ----

This is actually the fun part.

All I do is listen to podcasts about my goal, read books about my goals, make pinterest boards about my goals and talk to myself about my goals. I'm so obsessed.

Make a reading list, find some podcasts that align with your goals, follow blogs with the same mindset, talk to those of your friends that will get it.

This makes sure that nothing can distract you, and you can't just 'forget' to work towards your goal.

However, you must not let your time obsessing over your goal be more than your time actually working on your goal. Do not forget that.

------------- Books that could help ------------

Atomic Habits by James Clear

Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport

----- May the odds be ever in your favour.. -----

#dgg #level up #level up mindset #black femininity #hypergamy #black hypergamy #hypergamous #dreamgirl #black women in luxury #2024 planning #new year #glowup #wellness #self care #mine

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thedecoy-if · 2 years

Text

It occurs to you just then, the true depth of your helplessness: you've been taken to another universe, alone with no way home, you're stuck prisoner, your phone has no signal...and they don't even know what Wi-Fi is. Yeah. You're screwed.

DEMO (3/04/2023) ♔ FORUM POST ♔ ARTBREEDERS

♔ The Decoy is a dark fantasy that follows you, a 21st century normal human, kidnapped to an alternate magical universe to play the part of the missing heir to a powerful throne...who also happens to be your doppelgänger. ♔

Life, for the most part, has been all-around uneventful. You work in Manhattan at a convenience store under a sleazy boss in order to scrape by and support your struggling family. Your dad is absent, your mom is too tired to parent, one brother is getting arrested while the other has detached himself from the life he once had. Still, while your days as a twenty-something employee are mundane, at least they're predictable.

Meanwhile, in another realm, the magical dark world of Eterna is in ruin. A war against an entity and his bloodthirsty creatures is brewing, and after the powerful royal family is viciously murdered and the only living child--and now rightful owner of the throne--goes missing, that evil is one step closer to winning.

But of course, that's not your problem. That's in a whole other universe, one you don't even know exists. Your biggest worry is whether you'll be able to take on a double shift tomorrow. Right?

Wrong.

Turns out the missing heir is your doppelganger. In a desperate attempt to save face and stop from losing a war before it even starts, you're kidnapped and taken to Eterna in order to play the part of the monarch, all while working behind the (bloody) scenes to find the true heir and get home.

Stuck in a world of magic and fantasy you've only ever seen in movies, an entire country--and an impending war-- is now dependent on how well you can act.

No pressure.

The Decoy is rated 18+ for dark themes, violence, and explicit content.

FEATURES

Customize your MC from gender identity, pronouns, personality, and appearance.

Choose whether to adapt to this new world or reject it, whether to be defiant or not. Pick what kind of monarch you'll lead as and take full advantage of your new royal identity.

Build yourself up in this new world, focus on honing combat or knowledge of the realm, choose a preferred choice of weapon and more.

Romance one of eight ROs (two male, two female, one nonbinary, three gender selectable) with a variety of backgrounds and magical types. Some more dangerous than others.

Maybe teach your new makeshift gang what television is? Hopefully find some signal for your phone? (not going to happen).

CHARACTERS + ROs

SERIDA/SOREN/SAHAR CRETILLON (m/f/nb , identity dependent on player choice ): the successor to the throne and only living person left in the Cretillon line, S has gone missing not long after the slaughter that murdered their entire family. People have been waiting for them to be coronated in order to plan their next move, but they're now gone without a trace and without them and the power that binds them together, Eterna is vulnerable. That's where you come in.

AZRIEL DAMARIS [RO] (m, he/him): once S's primary royal guard, Azriel has been promoted as the general of the Eternan army and head of the operation to save S. Stiff, serious, and severe, Azriel is tasked with being guard and guiding you through the world of politics and royalty. Unfortunately, Azriel doesn't want you here and he doesn't do much to hide it.

NAMARA AL-LUVEN: [RO] (f, she/her) Azriel's second, Namara is a fierce warrior and loyal to the cause. She's quite difficult to read, distant considering who you are.

DRENWIN SILVA: [RO](m, he/him): a skilled Mage and jester, Drenwin works alongside the Eternan army and puts his skills to work. He seems to be the most approachable of the bunch, which isn't saying much.

VALE: [RO](nb, they/them) the boisterous, flirtatious and arrogant mercenary turned pirate captain of The Lady Mystica. Vale exists simply to make and spend as much coin as possible while engaging in their harem and abundance of bad habits.

CERIS BESILLE [RO] (selectable, she/her, he/him, they/them): a priest-in-training, Ceris is fiercely devoted to their beliefs. Reserved and easily scandalized, they haven't left their quarters in the church since they were twelve, contributing to their lack of outside experience and rather insular outlook on the world.

TALEEA FAREWYN [RO] - (she/her) A half-fae Healer, Taleea follows alongside you as your right hand. She seems to be the only one empathetic to your circumstances, but it's hard to trust anyone in this world, especially someone who is so keen on being...nice.

ARWEN/ARYA VALARIN: [RO] (selectable, she/her, he/him): A Valarin is S's childhood friend and their arranged betrothed. A has been S's other half since they were kids, which means you need to be extra careful around them. They have no idea you're not S and judging from your orders, it's better they never find out.

????? [RO?] (gender selectable) -- They are actively hunting you.

#interact-if #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive fiction wip #choice script #choicescript #choice of games #interactive game #text based game #wip #COG

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yes-divine-ruler · 1 year

Text

Off Limits - Warren Lipka, (Pre Cult) Kai Anderson

x fem!reader

content warning: threesome, vaginal sex, oral (warren and reader receiving), smoking weed, some sneaking around, not proofread bc i just wanna post it

word count: 3.7k

"I don't get what her problem is," Warren shrugged his broad shoulders at you as you tried to keep up with him on the sidewalk.

You'd caught the late bus home from the college library, and your best friend's older brother, and neighbour, had offered to walk you home. Warren happened to be leaving college the same time as you after an intense, sweaty hour and a half of soccer practice. When you'd bumped into him at the bus stop, Warren sparked conversation, having recognised you as the girl who is always at his house, but that he didn't quite know. You'd never taken the liberty in spending a lot of time with your best friend's family. Maybe it was because she was strict on the "don't date my brother" rule, and had kept you in hiding because of it.

"You must've done it in the past," it was your turn to shrug your shoulders, as you delve into the reason why you'd never formally met.

Warren let's out a loud laugh and claps his hands together for emphasis. You continue to walk silently beside him as he begins to explain himself.

"See, the girl she's talking about- I didn't even know they were friends. We bumped into each other at a party. She didn't even say anything and I know now that she knew exactly who I was!" Warren let's out a snort , "so if anything, that's my dear sister's fault for having friends that are horny for her brother."

You laugh along with him, trying not to make too much eye contact. It was weird enough that you were walking home with Warren; you didn't need to seem like you were just as bad as the girl that traumatised your best friend.

"Hey," Warren stops you as you arrive outside his house.

"My house is still a few doors down," you say with a small laugh, pointing your thumb in the direction of your house.

"Yeah I know, but I was wondering if you wanted to come inside? I got a friend with me, I think you'll like him. We're just gonna smoke up... if you're interested?" Warren's lips curl into a weary smile as he scratches the back of his head. You take a second to comprehend what he's asking, before you're thinking of how it might make your friend feel.

"Uh, I don't think your sister will like that," apart from the fact this was off limits, you were very intrigued to come inside and get to know your best friend's brother. He had already been so nice and it was easy to relax around him. He had a beguiling way of making people feel at ease.

"Pffft," Warren sways his hand dismissively, "she's not even here, she's staying the night at her boyfriend's place."

"Oh yeah," you mumble in agreement, realising now that any other excuse would make you look lame.

"Okay then," you nod to punctuate your sentence, lifting your gaze from your sneakers into Warren's dark, alluring eyes.

"Sick! We'll get in through the back," Warren guides you around to the corner of the house furtherest from the front yard. He stops short at a set of bulkhead doors, wrenching them open to reveal a flight of concrete stairs. You follow closely behind him as he ventures further and further down into the basement. You can't help but feel slightly nervous. You didn't want to seem inexperienced, or like you couldn't control yourself. A pungent, spunky aroma fills your nose once you're at the bottom of the stairs. A guy about your age sits on a tattered sofa in front of a TV, with a bong pressed tightly to his lips.

"This is Kai. Kai, say hello to Y/N," Kai leans back away from the bong, and blows out rings of smoke. You almost had to squint to see him through the thick, grey cloud he created.

"Hey," he offers a wave to you as he sets everything back down on the table. He had thick, chestnut hair that fell in his face. He was clothed in a white-t/flannel combo, and a pair of black jeans. He seemed like just the type of guy Warren would be friends with.

"Sit down Y/N," Warren takes a seat on the opposite side of the sofa to Kai, leaving only a spot in the middle. You clear your throat before you oblige and seat yourself between the two.

"So, what are you majoring in at college?" Kai asks you, a small smile playing at his lips as he awaits your response.

"Nothing too fancy," you smile back, "business and law."

"Fuck, that's cool," Kai lets out a dopey laugh with half-lidded eyes, "I'm doing religious studies."

Both Kai and Warren burst into a fit of laughter. You guess you could see the irony.

"That's cool too," your face flushes pink as Warren holds a lit joint in front of you. Your heart picks up pace just looking at it. You weren't an avid smoker, but you'd had your fair share of practice. It was still nerve wracking to smoke sitting between two guys you didn't really know.

"Want me to go first?" Kai leans forward and takes the joint from Warren's fingertips. You let him do it with a curt nod of your head.

You watched as Kai placed the roach between his lips . His chest expanded as he took a draw, and then he held it in.

"Stop trying to look cool Anderson," Warren snickered, leaning over and punching Kai in the arm. Kai reacted, exhaling the smoke sharply from his lungs and coughing as he tried to soothe his throat.

"Fuck... you... Lipka," Kai scowled at Warren between coughs, only making Warren laugh more.

"Now the lady's turn," Warren ignores Kai as he gets up to retrieve a soda from the bar fridge. You take a deep breath, and position the joint between your own fingers. This is so fucking stupid, you thought to yourself as you stared at it in your hand, why couldn't you just do it?

"You don't have to, you know," Warren shrugs, and goes to take the joint from you. You retract your hand away from his and shake your head.

"It's okay, I'll do it," you weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself more.

"Okay princess, take your time," Kai jokes as he takes a seat next to you, propping his feet up on the coffee table. You offer him a fake laugh before finally finding the courage to bring the joint to your lips. You inhale, only a little, feeling your throat burn as your lungs fill with smoke. You hold it in for a moment before exhaling. You were surprised you didn't cough.

"Atta girl," Warren chuckles, taking the joint from your hand and bringing it to his own lips.

"Do you guys do this every night?" You asked Kai, as he mindlessly scrolled through the sit-com TV series category on Netflix.

He lets out a snort, "pretty much. Not every day does Warren bring a girl to hang out with us though."

You look over at Warren, who just rolls his eyes at his friend.

Your vision begins to go slightly blurry as you look around the room. Your fingernails dig into the skin of your thighs as your eyes settle on the small TV across from you. You were super high already and all you craved was a bag of crisps all of a sudden.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You look over at Warren, who's finished the joint and stubbed it out in the ashtray.

"It means, I only invite girls I think are pretty," he flirts, turning his entire body around to face you, "it just sucks that my sister kept us apart for so long. I wonder what she thinks would happen."

"Um.. this?," Kai rolls his eyes at his friend, "doesn't mean I'm off limits though."

Kai's way of flirting was much more obvious. He rests a hand behind your head on the sofa, and shuffles slightly closer to you. If it weren't for the pot, you'd be totally disgusted by their lame effort to trifle with you. Even though, you found them both undeniably attractive.

"I'm not even like that," your eyebrows knit together in confusion. Your best friend knew you didn't sleep around. It made you nervous and never appealed to you.

"It's not about you," Kai replies, taking another sip of his soda, "it's about Warren. He can't handle himself."

"Shut the fuck up Anderson, before I kick you out," Warren growls, covering his face with his hands in embarrassment.

"So you think I'm pretty?" You tease Warren, just as he reveals his face again. You hadn't realised that Kai had pretty much pressed the entire length of his thigh to yours in the last minute. His close proximity made your face hot.

"Yeah well, isn't it obvious?" Warren asks, with a small laugh, "you probably haven't seen me staring every-time you come over. Maybe it's because it's off limits."

"Like I said, Y/N," Kai smirks at you, "I'm not off limits."

"Did you guys trap me down here to fuck me?" You ask with a laugh, "because I'm not interested. Especially if it's going to upset my best friend."

"And if it didn't upset your best friend?" Kai probes, "smoking pot gets me ridiculously horny."

You let out a small laugh, shifting in your seat and rubbing your thigh back up against Kai's. He was right about one thing - pot definitely had the same effect on you, and it was beginning to skew your vision with rose-coloured glasses.

"Anderson, you're so fucking sick," Warren teases his friend, only for Kai to roll his eyes.

"How about you shut the fuck Lipka, and let me shoot my shot. It's not like you can do anything," Kai snickers back.

"I'm sitting right here guys. Seriously!" You argue back, standing from the couch and turning towards the two guys sat in front of you. You didn't appreciate being talked about like a piece of meat, or the bickering over you when you were just trying to relax and have a good time. Of course, it flattered you to a certain extent, but it wasn't the vibe you were searching for.

"Hey! Sit down, look, we're sorry. Right Kai? That's not cool of us," Warren responds softly without eye contact, whilst rolling another joint.

"Yeah, we're sorry," Kai backs up his friend, "come sit, we'll watch a movie."

You sit back down between them hesitantly, watching Kai flick through horror movies on Netflix. Warren offers you some of his joint, and without thinking, you take another hit. Kai gets up to switch off the lights, and joins you both back on the couch. The movie plays at a press of a button, and you settle yourself deeper in the backrest of the couch to get comfortable. Your head spins with the pot you'd just smoked, and it takes everything in you not to close your eyes and fall asleep. That is, until the first jump-scare of the movie frightens you half to death.

In the process, you hadn't realised you'd tucked yourself securely under Warren's arm. He doesn't object, instead wrapping his strong arm around you and holding you into his side. You can't help the accelerated beating of your heart as you basked in his scent. He smelt so good. Despite how bad it was that you were cuddled up with your best friend's older brother.

You turn over to glance at Kai, who's got a blanket draped across his lap. He's watching the movie with his eyes half-closed and the sight alone makes you giggle. You nudge Warren so he turns to look down at you and mouths 'what?'. You point a finger in Kai's direction, and then you both laugh at him quietly.

As the movie progresses, you find yourself more cuddled into Warren and even closer to Kai. You hadn't realised that you'd placed a hand on Kai's thigh, and that it was slowly advancing up his leg. God, what the fuck were you thinking? Trying to cuddle up to two guys at once? One of which you knew was off limits? It must be the weed.

Without turning his head, Kai places his hand strategically over yours. A dull pulse ignites between your legs and your mind races at 200 miles an hour, trying to think of how you were going to make this work.

"I can't choose," you randomly blurt, gaining the attention of both guys. Kai even paused the movie because he didn't think he'd heard you right.

"Did you just say 'I can't choose?'" Warren's brows knit together in confusion as Kai stares blankly at you. You immediately regretted saying anything at all, but now, you had to explain your way out of looking like an even bigger idiot.

"I mean, both of you want to fuck me, and I think I've changed my mind. Like Kai, I'm incredibly horny."

Warren almost chokes on his own tongue. Kai's hand on yours squeezes tightly, and the two guys look at each-other in disbelief. It was like they were telepathically agreeing something between them.

"Who said you have to choose?" Kai finally replies, taking your hand and moving it up his clothed thigh. You turn to Warren, who offers you a lopsided smile.

"I mean, he's right?" Warren says it like it's a question, and for a moment, you consider it. You'd never been in a situation quite like this one, where you were seated between two guys you found insanely attractive, who both wanted to dote on you.

"How would that even work?" You ask, trying to stifle your laughter. It just seemed so ridiculous that this was happening, regardless of how badly you wanted it right now.

"And have you done this before or something?" You look between Warren and Kai curiously. Kai shrugs his shoulders.

"I haven't with Lipka, but sure, I know how it works," Kai was confident enough to unzip his jeans from under your palm, leaving the fabric of his boxers being the only thing stopping you from touching him completely.

"Look- I'm horny as fuck, and high, and I think it'd be an interesting experience," Warren moves his arm from around you, and places it instead, on your thigh. His touch almost makes you sigh from how good it felt.

"Okay," you say simply, taking the liberty of making the first move and connecting your lips to Warren's. Never in a million years, did the three of you think you'd be in this situation. You just knew your best friend would be furious. But for some reason, it only fuelled your desire for them, alike to foraging for a forbidden fruit.

You feel Kai move from next to you, and soon there's two warm palms separating your legs. Distracted by Warren's tongue exploring your mouth, you pay little attention to Kai as he runs his hands up your thighs. Kai's fingertips skim the lower band of your panties, soon to dig into the waistband and take them off your legs. Everything was moving so fast. The kiss didn't break until you felt Kai's tongue on your pussy.

You moaned into Warren's mouth before he moved away to litter kisses down your jaw. It allowed you to let out as many sounds as you wanted to. Kai used his thumbs to seperate your folds. His nose nudged blissfully against your clit as he tasted you. One of your hands made its way into his hair, tugging softly on his brown curls as he expertly worked at your pussy. Warren worked fast to lift up your shirt, reaching around to your back to unclasp your bra and let it fall.

"Fuck, you taste good," Kai mumbled against your dripping cunt as Warren took one of your taut nipples in his mouth. He sucked on it, rolling his tongue around the stiff bud, kneading the other in his hand.

Your other hand wondered over to the front of Warren's jeans, unfastening the best you could with one hand. Taking the hint, Warren helps you tear down his pants and boxers, revealing his cock to your palm. You wrap your fingers around it, squeezing gently as you began to stroke him. Strategically smearing the pre cum that leaked from his tip down his length, your hand moved in sync with Kai's tongue as it immersed itself between your pulsing walls.

As if the heat had been turned up in the room, the three of you began to slightly perspire. Warren growls against your chest, feeling a tightness already in his groin. You take a moment to glance down at Kai, seeing him already staring up at you. He leaves sloppy kisses against your sensitive bundle of nerves, his gaze intense as he sucks you into his mouth. That being, your final straw.

"I'm gonna cum, oh my god!" You squeal as your orgasm washes over you in intense, pleasurable waves. Your thighs shake around Kai's head, and he doesn't stop until you're begging him to.

"I'm not breaking too many rules if it's just head?" Warren asks shyly, as Kai gets up from the floor. You ignore his question only for a moment, as Kai forces your lips onto his. His tongue swirls around your mouth, allowing the taste of you to linger on your own taste buds.

"Get up here, I need to bury my cock inside you, like right now," Kai is a little rougher than Warren, and pulls you up onto the couch on all fours. Now face to face with Warren's cock, it works perfectly.

"Does this answer your question?" You ask slyly, cupping his heavy balls in your hand as the tip pushes past your lips. Warren’s fingers tangle in your hair, pushing your mouth further down his thick cock. He hits the back of your throat, and surprisingly, it doesn’t make you gag.

You can feel Kai behind you, positioning his tip between your dripping folds. He spits, directly where his tip meets your pussy. A moment passed before he’s stretching you out from behind. Your eyes roll as he fits his cock inside you, spreading open your ass cheeks with his hands. His fingers dug into your skin, kneading at the plush of your ass as he finally, bottoms out inside you.

“Oh fuck,” Kai moans, trying to keep his eyes open. He’s not all too interested or aroused in seeing his friend receive head, but it definitely was the hottest thing him, or Warren, had ever done. Something to definitely bring up later with their other friends.

Your eyes swell with tears as Warren continues to hit the back of your throat. Kai begins thrusting his hips, digging at your sensitive walls right at the spot that swells to his tip. The tears almost fall from the pleasure alone.

“Holy shit, your mouth feels amazing,” Warren groans, resting his head back on the sofa as you pick up pace around him. You use your hand and mouth in sync, your tongue running along the side of his shaft with every repetition of your movements.

“This weed is some good shit, I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer,” Kai is whining behind you, clawing in desperation at your ass cheeks, reaching your cervix with every ravaging thrust.

You never imagined how good it would feel to be used like this. Having two of your holes filled to the brim. You definitely weren’t going to see sex with one other person as as satisfying ever again.

“Oh fuck, Y/N, I’m cumming,” Warren gasps breaths of air as you remove your mouth from him, using your hand to finish him off with your tongue placed strategically at his tip. Kai isn’t far behind, and it takes everything in you to remain focused on Warren’s release. Warren’s hips lift off the couch as he cums, painting your tongue white with his load. You swallow it with ease, giggling as Warren rests back with his eyes closed.

“Fuckfuckfuck, I’m gonna cum too,” Kai calls out behind you, “fuck your pussy feels so good.”

You hold onto Warren as Kai releases, taking himself out of you to cum all over your ass. He takes a deep breath as he pulls up his pants.

“Shit, let me get you something to clean that up,” Warren pushes up off the couch, leaving you on all fours, to pick out a fresh hand towel.

“Kai, clean it up, dickhead,” Warren calls out to his friend, passing him the towel. Kai cleans you off, leaving you able to dress yourself again. The basement reeks of sex, and your heart drops at the thought of your best friend walking in just this second.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Warren begins rolling yet another joint, “she’s not gonna be back, trust me.”

“That was probably the best sex of my life,” Kai comes back down the basement stairs, holding a bowl of popcorn and a bag of salt and vinegar crisps. You didn’t even notice he disappeared.

You only laugh and shake your head in response, checking your phone awkwardly for the time.

“I’ve been here two hours? Shit, my parents wanted me home for dinner tonight,” you get up suddenly, making sure your clothes don’t look too crumpled, and presentable enough to go home in.

“I’ll walk you,” both Kai and Warren say at the same time, and the room goes silent. Were they making you choose?

“How about, you both walk me home. Sound good?” You smirk at the two guys who were obviously at your mercy after the sex you’d just shared. Part of you resonated with that, like you didn’t want to leave them.

“Heyy Y/N,” Kai asked curiously, as Warren held your hand loosely along the side walk. The sun had long set now, and the street lamps were on. Stopping outside your house, you turn to Kai.

“Hm?” You ask, as Warren remains by your side.

“You wanna come back tomorrow?” Warren shoves Kai, sending him tumbling back. The two of them were like man-children. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Maybe.. if you’re lucky,” you lean over and plant a soft kiss to Kai’s lips, before pressing a kiss to Warren’s.

The two of them watch you from the end of your driveway as you approach the front door, and with a final wave, they’re both out of sight. Now to eat dinner with your parents after having a threesome.

TAGLIST: @evanpetersfanblog @kitwalkersgfff @quicksilversg1rl @iruzias @alexxavicry @soaringcloud @laynna-mcknight @humdrumexistence @simp4petermaximoff @evan4ever @paujmr @jangsuzchap @meganxfox @divineruler @spill-the-t @hihidora @luttic

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s-awturn · 1 month

Text

Underworld Sun || LH44

summary: It only took an unpretentious visit to a local florist for all of Lewis's convictions to come crashing down, and finally the lord of the Underworld found what was missing in his lonely existence.

cw: dark content, slightly stalkerish behavior, nostalgia, pure smut, Lewis!dom x reader!sub, revelation, mention of magic, violence, outbursts of rage, (fake) naivety, devotion, deep love, soulmates, family interference, mention of kidnapping.

a/n: I confess that the final part of the first chapter shouldn't have happened, but when I saw it, the two were already getting to know each other. But nothing I can't get around, just a shortcut in the story's timeline. By the way, I need to thank you for the 100 followers, this story wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be, so thank you, thank you very much 🫶🏼

p.s.: do you want a taglist?

prologue |

The static made the hairs on both of their arms stand on end, he had never felt that before and for a moment Zeus's words came back to his mind. But it didn't make sense because the woman in front of him didn't have any trace of sacred energy, she was just an ordinary human, no divine traces. The itch in his chest increased when he saw her cheeks flush, so he hadn't been the only one to feel that way.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Lewis... How can I help you? You don't seem like a flower person."

"I really don't like flowers, but I think my house needs a little... life." He wanted to laugh at the irony, but kept his face impassive.

"Luckily for you, I have the perfect flowers right here," she said, her voice high with excitement. Y/N walked through the maze of pots, packages of soil and other objects. "I have a beautiful pot of strelitzia, it's a big plant but it adds incredible charm to any environment..."

Lewis nodded, following her at a safe distance, watching her point to some flowers and plants, for such a small space, there was a giant variety of species. Perhaps the flower shop was bigger on the inside than on the outside, he observed dryly.

"I have black desert roses, I think violet tulips..." She was faster than Lewis could follow, Y/N picked up a beige ceramic vase, and was placing flowers in it randomly. "I need orchids, hold them here for me, please" she handed the vase to him and disappeared inside the flower shop, returning with two flowers hanging in her hands.

He didn't understand how that mess of flowers and some dried plants could be. Y/N gave him a grateful smile as she took the vase from his hands and added the flowers she had picked. Within a few minutes, The florist organized the arrangement, and what was a mess turned into something beautiful. Even if he tried, he couldn't do something like that.

Something beautiful, vivid and graceful.

No, he only knew death, fear and dread.

"For someone who doesn't like flowers, I imagine vibrant colors are a problem... You are very lucky indeed, these black flowers arrived today and people love them, because of how rare they are."

Lewis gave a curt nod, watching her fetch a bag to put the vase in so that it wouldn't ruin the flowers when they were carried.

Y/N taught him about some preservation methods for the flowers in the vase, but he didn't listen to anything, caught up in the way she spoke, how she gestured, It was obvious how much she loved what she did, how she loved finding the right flowers for each customer. It had been a long time, longer than he could count, since he had seen someone work with so much love, so much dedication.

He had always known that humans were petty, arrogant, and cruel, humans would do atrocities for the things they wanted. History had more examples than he could count. Clytemnestra killing her husband after the Trojan War, Lycaon serving human flesh to the gods... And the passing of time confirmed what he already knew, humanity was rotten beyond salvation.

But the woman in front of him challenged his convictions. No matter how deeply Lewis searched her soul, he could find nothing that made her equal to the others.

Y/N was different.

Still lost in his thoughts, Lewis paid for the arrangement, saying she should keep the change.

"I didn't expect to find anything here in this little town, and here I am, going home with a bouquet," he said, making her put away the remaining money.

She smiled widely, the itch on Lewis's chest growing more irritated. "Oh, it was no big deal, Lewis. I'm happy to make sure you take something from us on your trip."

He looked away from her, grabbing the bag from the counter. She followed him out, still chattering excitedly. "Thank you for your attention, Y/N, and for the bouquet, of course. Goodbye."

"Adieu, Lewis." She waved at him as he walked down the small village's only avenue, and he could catch the waves of surprise coming from her as she realized what kind of car he drove. What could he do? Powerful cars were his deadly addiction.

He placed the bag of flowers on the passenger seat and started the car, feeling the sweet scent of the bouquet mix with the smell of expensive leather, creating a unique aroma that Lewis didn't notice he liked it until the air conditioning dispersed the smell.

He arrived in London that same day, he liked how the climate of the English capital lived up to his own temperament, London was cold, gloomy and rainy, thick clouds covered the city for most of the year. Therefore, he thought it only fair that the center of his domains should be located there.

He had barely crossed the building's reception when he was greeted by Megara, the erinyes wore an elegant black suit and no one would ever suspect that this woman was chasing and inflicting madness on men.

"Welcome back, sir," she greeted, turning on her tablet screen as she walked beside him to the private elevator. Many creatures had found other purposes in life in the contemporary era, nymphs had become models and actresses, satyrs had spread throughout the world in various sectors, But the Erinyes met in the corporate world, for the three sisters it was much more fun to see men going crazy over bankruptcy than over madness itself. "Nemesis has returned from the US, the purchase of the Wall Street investment bank has been successfully completed, and Fernando has also returned from Asia."

"I need you to do me a personal favor, Megara," he said as the elevator doors closed. "It's urgent."

"Of course sir, how can I help you?" She quickly turned off the tablet and turned fully to Hades, he handed her the bag of flowers, which she looked at with a raised eyebrow.

"Find out everything about the owner of this flower shop, from her name to how many vaccines she's had, absolutely everything," he was emphatic, seeing the furiæ nod in confusion.

"I'll make sure you have the information today, sir."

"Excellent," he replied and stepped out of the elevator, meeting Hypnos and Thanatos in the waiting room of his office. "I hope you have good news."

"You're not going to tell us how the visit to your family went?" Hypnos commented mockingly, receiving only an eye roll in response.

"Come in... And Megara, change the water in the flowers and place them in my room," he instructed before entering his room, followed by the twin gods. "I still don't understand why they took on different bodies."

"After years of having the same face as my brother, it's fun to be different from him," Tanatos said, his Spanish accent showing.

"Whatever..." He waved his hand in the air, going straight to the small bar to pour himself some whiskey. "I hope things in Suzuka went well, it's not a good time for a war with Susanoo."

"He's reluctant about the terms, we're talking about millions of souls that could favor their own pantheon..." Thanatos said, unbuttoning his jacket as he sat down. "I was lucky to talk to him, Tsukiyomi doesn't seem so happy to see us in their backyard."

"They can either deal with us in a peace offering or go to war with the Hindu clans, I wouldn't sleep easy knowing I might wake up with Shiva stabbing my neck" Hypnos said.

"Exactly, if they want us to keep their territory safe, the soul deal is a very small payment," Lewis said. "They'll accept it, it's a small pantheon and they did not know how to maintain their powers in the transition of the ages. Where have you been all this time?"

"The Fates called me to the hut"

The mention of the spinners of fate puzzled Lewis. What could they possibly want? If there was a new prophecy coming, he would know about it.

"What did they want?"

"The walls of Tartarus are crumbling," Sebastian said simply and Lewis snorted, it wasn't enough that Persephone was alive again, he still had to deal with the possibility of a new Titanomachy.

From zero to ten, how fucked was he?

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#f1 imagine #f1 #s awturn #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x y/n #lewis hamilton x fem!reader #hades and persephone #lewis hamilton x reader

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