#local bird man theme | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

enviedear · 5 months

Text

jackie and wilson — billy bonney

⤷ modern!billy au

tw— somehow this is 4.6k words. mentions of food and eating, talk of religion and bible verses, (i'm southern and was forced to go to church every sunday it reflects in the writing) smutty themes so, minors dni, 18+ only, kissing, fondling, skinny dipping, (they're in their undies) so horrifically fluffy

i can already tell this is going to become an ongoing series, so be sure to comment and lmk if you want more. also, this is influenced by my daily mantra

request

the summer heat feels like it's baking you as you traverse through the long grass of your farmland. birds call and screech in the trees lining the woods beside you. if you weren't so scared of walking the shortcut in the woods alone, your risk of sun poisoning may seem less apparent.

you grip the wicker basket in your hands tighter, eyes squinting to look for the lean farmhand-for-hire. in years past, you've been keen to take his place whenever your grandparents needed someone for an oddball job. working long hours with the older couple up until you graduated from the county high school. as the seasons changed, and you got older and busier, so did your grandparents. their work on their farm proved in dire need of help.

a simple fix—you. this summer, free from university and your internship, your parents elected you to spend the free time of your summer working on your loving grandparents' farm.

in the early days of the warm season, you managed pretty well on your own. you tended the vegetables and the fruits, took care of the chickens and sheep, and sowed the large fields with grain until sunset.

everything changed after an unfortunate incident with your grandpa's gargantuan baler. luckily, you were fine, but your pa's expensive baler was wrecked all to hell.

so here you were, now relegated to some pseudo farmer's daughter role, hand-delivering water and a full lunch to none other than billy bonney.

your grandparents say billy's nice enough, mannerly yet hushed. but you know there's more to it. at least if small town gossip is anything to believe, and here, it usually is.

everyone knows the crowd billy runs around with. he's also got a vile gang of friends. angry men with sly smirks who spend most of their free time loitering the town's local bar or gambling away their lives at lawrence murphy's corral. the type of men to carry a weapon at all times without any license, and quick to threaten to shoot with even the most minor infraction.

the knowledge was enough to have you hiding away from him every time your grandparents hired him for a job.

everytime that is, until now.

you knew with the way your pa sternly stared into your eyes that a complaint wouldn't be warranted. as your grandma instructed you to bring the farmhand some, "hearty lunch for his hard work," you came to terms with the fact that you had no right to argue.

not when you owe the old man a baler.

you finally reach the young man, covered in grime and leaning against his parked pickup, out of breath and sweltering. you try not to stare at the baler attached to the tractor, about twenty feet from his parked vehicle, your embarrassment over wrecking the last one still ever present.

his truck has its' doors wide open, blaring music through blown speakers. you try to avoid making direct eye contact with him, voice raised slightly to be heard over the folk song playing, "here. figure you're hungry."

lifting the tea towel from the top of the basket, you set it on his open truck bed. despite not looking up, you can see him hurry to turn his music down before sauntering over to you from the side of your gaze.

"thank you," his voice surprises you. it's gruff but gentle. "you kin to the old couple?"

you're not sure why, but you take offense to his question. sure you've ignored him, but you know that he knows who you are. you meet his stare, your tone dry in response, "i am."

he inclines his head toward the basket, ignoring your reply with a hum, "what'd ya' bring me, hon?"

your eyes roll unabashed at his endearment, "my grandma threw a bit of everything in there. i know there's some jambalaya— the last bit of our mud cake too."

"you're spoiling me, you tell her i said thank you," he pauses, peering down at you, "are you going to be bringin' me my lunch everyday?"

his question is innocuous but something in the way he says it makes your stomach drop. you shrug, "sure, i guess."

"i'd like that." he slips the words out before his hands dive into the basket, fishing out one of the water bottles.

you nod, confused by him, "yeah well, be careful. i guess i'll see you tomorrow."

at that you turn from him, walking your trail again to get back to the house. you fight the urge to look over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of him. some proof he's really there, that the interaction actually happened.

because despite the second-hand opinion you've held on him, billy bonney was unexpected. annoyingly so.

as you finish up your day, you can't help but think about the encounter with the dark-haired farmhand. you've known of him for years, sure, but you never expected much of him.

just another one of jesse evans’ rowdy boys.

shocking, that billy would be so different. or maybe, just better at hiding his depravity. you think back to his voice, rough around the edges, yet littered with tenderness. it’s not until you think back to his gentle smile that you realize, there’s a kindness that exudes from him, and it’s got you hook, line, and sinker.

you wonder if he's always been this way? you like to think he has. even if it is only a platitude for your undeniable crush.

in the following days, you continue to bring the farmhand his lunch, stopping to talk to him longer each noon. he's easy to talk to, apt to ask you about your day, or if you need anything. you can't exactly explain why, but you're drawn to him.

it's extra muggy as you pack up his lunch and make your way to him, breaking from his time on the baler to lay in the bed of his truck.

he doesn't take notice of you until your basket finds home right beside him, blasted speakers blaring yet another folk tune.

"hey there," he greets you with a grin, his white work shirt wrought with soil, the short sleeves haphazardly rolled, "you know i'm starting t'get used to this."

you smile back, feeling a warm sensation spreading through your body, "i'm sure you are."

billy takes a look in the lunch basket, grabbing out some water first to clear the dirt on his hands, "you wanna hang around for a bit?"

you hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should. not only do you have a long list of chores, you also still find a bit of nervousness around the young man.

but billy's been nice enough, and if he's anything like his friends you assume he would have shown it by now, "i guess i have some time."

billy nods, handing you a water and patting the free space beside him. you hop up, close enough that his side brushes yours.

the sensation sends shivers down your spine as you try to focus on conversation, pulling for anything you can say. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the only sound is coming from the music blasting from his speakers. an old rock song today, different. your eyes try to look anywhere but at him, taking in the vast expanse of farmland around you.

"must be nice to have all this land to yourself," billy says, breaking the silence.

you nod, grateful for his compliment, "it is. my grandparents have worked hard to keep it running."

"i can tell," billy says, taking a swig from his water bottle, "they got a good thing goin' here."

you agree, taking a sip from your own bottle. the sun beats down on your skin, making you feel sweaty and sticky. billy, on the other hand, seems used to it. he looks up at the sky, squinting against the sunlight.

"you know, i was thinking," billy says, steady voice breaking the silence again, "what would you say if i took you out sometime?"

your heart skips a beat, your mind going into overdrive. you never expected billy to ask you out, even more so that you’d be so willing to entertain the idea.

you hesitate for a moment before answering, "i don't know. i mean, i barely know you."

this is a half truth, you know him. only this version though, the sweet billy bonney who works on your family farm and takes his lunch breaks with you. you don't have any idea who he is outside of these moments.

at least not first hand. just second hand gossip. you wouldn’t even know which stories are real or fake. you’re not sure if he’s a convincing actor or genuine soul. there are rumors he shot a man back in his hometown. that he launders money with jesse evans’ gang. that he’s a cheat from a rodeo front, taking ignorant peoples’ bet money.

billy hums, breaking your anxious thoughts, "what'd you wanna know, hon? i'm an open book."

you chew on your lip, thinking about it. it could be a smart move, you're curious about him and need to know more. you need to know what about him is fact or fiction. but at the same time, you're afraid of what the truth may be, "i don't know," you say finally. "i mean, work, for example. is this all you do?"

billy cracks a smile, "no, hon’. this s’more of a side job.” he sighs, “i was a pickup for jesse evans' rodeo for a while, but that new fella' that just came to town—mr. tunstill, he's got me a better gig."

you furrow your brows, already on edge by the mention of his previous employer, "and what exactly is that?"

he chuckles a bit, "he's got me as a producer, but i do show on the weekends."

"so what? you're a full-fledged rodeo man? with bulls and all?" you'd always know of jesse's grimy ‘rodeo’, really just used as a gambling den and club, but you're intrigued by the idea of billy actually doing it. especially working with tunstill, a sincerely kind wealthy man from overseas. it must be a stark contrast to jesse’s.

"i guess. it's a good time and you can make honest money dependin' on the event," he pauses, "it's not like jesse's, if that's what you're wondering."

you look away from him, "my pa never let me go. when i turned twenty-one i tried to go with a bunch of my girlfriends. he about had a stroke keeping me out the door."

"he's smart, you shouldn't go. those guys are bad news." he's talking quieter now, less sugary and more solemn.

you fight your previous embarrassment, opting to stare straight into his pale blues, "you hang around those guys."

your sentiment is clear and billy goes hush for a long few seconds before speaking, eyes closed, "do not carouse with drunkards or feast with gluttons, for they are on their way to poverty, and too much sleep clothes them in rags."

you know those words, heard primarily while crammed in a pew, "you're a religious man?" you don't mean to, but your question comes out a bit unconvinced.

he opens his eyes back up, a spark of something you can't place within them, "no, not really. jus' something mr. tunstill keeps repeating to me. i didn't really pay it any mind till i met you."

you try to ignore the way his hand inches closer to your own, "why's that?"

"not sure. just seems easier to abide by now. i'd hate to end up like them. i know you don't like 'em." his voice is soft, but the hand that takes hold of yours isn't.

you look down at your feebly interlocked hands, hesitating, and then taking his hand with the same conviction, "no, i don't," a breath, "but i like you."

billy's face lights up at your words, and he leans in closer to you. you can feel his breath on your face, and your heart races with excitement and anticipation. you’ve never felt to entrapped in a man before, so ready to dive in head first.

without thinking, you reach out to touch his sun kissed cheek, and he leans into your hand. your fingers trace a path down his cheek, and then down to his lips. you have an overwhelming urge to kiss him, and you're surprised when he pulls back.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that." you say, feeling embarrassed.

"no, it's not that. it's just… i want to take you out on a real date. something proper." his cheeks have grown far more pink, only this time it's not the sun's doing.

you consider his words for a moment, before nodding, "that sounds real nice, billy."

he grins, and you feel a flutter in your chest. how he managed to make you feel this way so soon, you're not sure.

"you free this friday?" he asks, amusement in his tone.

you release his hand, grabbing for your phone, "should be, my boss loves me," a stupid joke, but you hand the touchscreen to him, "put your number in, so we can plan a time."

you climb down from the bed of the truck, peering up at the farmhand as he adds his number to your phone. when he's done he hands you back the phone, the sun casting an auburn glow to his hair.

you look up at him, and he smiles down at you, "don't be a stranger." he jokes.

you give him a laugh, "wouldn’t dream of it," you add, "i'll see you friday— i'm going into town with my grandma tomorrow. i'm sure it'll last all day."

billy hums, "till' friday, honey."

you turn and head back to the house, smiling to yourself, feeling happy and alive in a way that you haven't felt in a long time.

the next day, thursday, you wake up early to accompany your grandma into town. the older woman drags you up and down shopping centre's, moaning on and on about how cheaply things are made now.

you make it through the first ten stores without your smile cracking, you think it must be a finely tuned talent.

it's not until well after lunch the woman decides to slow down, stopping at a local diner to eat. she does most of the talking, gossiping about everyone she's run into today.

you love your grandma and you enjoy your time with her, but you're too focused on tomorrow to really be good company.

if she notices your change in behavior though, she doesn't comment. highly unlike her.

by the time the sky is more dark than light, you two head home. she plays old country music the whole ride, teeny-bopper songs that remind you how young she used to be.

and when you finally lay your head down to rest, you don't try to fight off the supercut in your mind of your sweet farmhand.

the next day, fateful friday, arrives with a mix of nerves and excitement. you find yourself checking the clock more often than usual, the anticipation building as the day progresses. your mind drifts to the possible plans for the evening, wondering where billy might take you on this 'proper date.'

a bit after the sun hits noon, you finish up your chores on the farm, your thoughts consumed by your impending evening. you decide to freshen up and put on something nice, an easy way to get your mind together.

your closet here is less thorough than the one at home, but the innocent tops and bottoms of your late teens still fit. you look less severe than you'd normally for a date. forgone are the dark, tight, and sultry clothes of your college town, leaving you looking ever so sweet.

the early afternoon arrives, and you hear the distant rumble of his pickup as it approaches. you feel alight with a muddled mess of nerves as you make your way out of the house to meet him.

you look over your shoulder when you crack the door open. making sure you haven't awoken your sleeping grandparents, who rarely miss their three o'clock naps.

the summer sun is high in the sky, casting a bright glow over the landscape. billy's leaned up against his truck, staring expectantly at your front porch— staring at you, you realize.

as you walk to him, you can't help but notice the effort he put into dressing up. his filthy work shirt is replaced with a clean, green linen button-down, and there's a hint of ambery cologne in the air. he offers you a genuine smile, eyes lighting up as he takes in your appearance.

"hey there, beautiful." he greets you, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder blade, comforting.

"hi," you reply, returning his saccharine smile. "you clean up nice."

he chuckles, a bit bashful, "well, i figured it's a special occasion."

you let him lead you to the passenger side, where he opens the rusty pickup's door for you, you fight back your grin when he follows in after.

as you drive into town, the atmosphere is a blend of excitement and a tinge of nervousness. billy takes you to a quaint little restaurant a bit outside of town. it's casual but with dim lights and a cozy ambiance. certainly it's the most romantic restaurant around without heading an hour out into the city. the two of you share stories and laughs, finding little to no lull in conversation.

"you want any dessert?" you ask, fiddling a loose thread at the hem of your blouse.

billy shrugs, "i've never said no to some banana puddin'. what'd you say?"

you giggle, nodding in agreement. you feel high off of his company. you're giddy and doing a horrible job at hiding it, but he doesn't seem to mind. instead, he relegates to matching your optimism, only validating every enamored thought of him that rings in your mind.

the warm evening air swirls around you as the two of you exit the restaurant. billy offers his hand, and you gladly intertwine your fingers as you stroll down the sidewalk. the town square is alive with the soft glow of streetlights.

as you walk, the conversation continues, easy and simple. billy talks animatedly about his past few weekends at the rodeo and shares some amusing anecdotes about the other rider’s on the circuit. you, in turn, finally divulge your baler incident, much to his chagrin.

the final hours of afternoon are slowly rolling in, and soon you find yourselves back at his pickup truck. you assume he'll drive you home, but to your surprise, he takes a different route, heading towards the backroads right beside your land. you raise an eyebrow, curious about this unexpected detour.

"where are we going?" you inquire, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

billy smirks but doesn't say anything, keeping the destination a secret. the road is winding and narrow— made of dirt and full of large potholes. you know your little front-wheel drive could never make it. eventually, he slows the car off the path, onto the side of the road.

there's an apparent trail just to the right of you, and when billy opens the door for you, he immediately ushers you toward it, "don't worry, we won't go too far in."

you'd be lying if you said the setting sun wasn't adding a level of unease to the idea of entering the woods, but when you look at billy, eyes bright and smile true, you throw aside your worries.

the young man is true to his word. the trek into the woods only lasts a few minutes before you see it. an azure expanse of water— a secluded lake surrounded by towering oak trees and a backdrop of rolling hills.

you turn back to look at him, shocked, "how did you find this?"

"jus’ by chance a few years ago. i figured you'd been out here before, living so close," he remarks, "but i like that i got to show it to you." billy admits, a devoted glint in his eyes.

as you stand there, gazing at the serene lake, you feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for this unexpected and beautiful surprise. you can't remember the last time the familiar landscape of home felt so awing. billy seems to be taking in your reaction, a quiet satisfaction evident on his face.

"it's breathtaking." you finally say, your voice hushed in appreciation.

billy grins, seemingly pleased with your reaction, "so are you."

you turn back to the water to hide your flustered expression.

you watch him find a comfortable spot by the water's edge, sitting on a large flat rock. you follow suit, letting your head nestle into his chest. the sounds of nature surround you—the rustling leaves, the gentle lapping of the water, and the distant calls of birds. it's a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the town and the farm.

you look up at him as inconspicuously as possible, eager to commit his image to memory. his umber hair curls at the nape of his neck, slender nose burnt from the sun, his freckles apparent, and his ever-inspired blue eyes reflecting the water ahead.

you look away as your heartbeat quickens, afraid that if you peer up any longer he'll be able to hear the rhythm.

"can you swim?" you ask, toes dipping into the waters below.

billy's gaze softens, the radiant hues of his eyes flickering with warmth as he looks down at you. his calloused hand idly tracing circles on your back, comforting, "yeah, i can swim. why? you wanna go for a dip?" he replies, a playful glint dancing across his face.

enthusiastically, you nod, "i'd love to. it's been ages since i've been swimming in a place like this."

with a charismatic grin, billy stands up, extending a hand to help you rise. he doesn't hesitate to unbutton his shirt and free himself from his pants— clothed only in his black boxers.

you try to be as carefree as him, but you're slower to shed your attire. by the time you do, he's already shoulder deep in the water.

you make your way to the water's edge, stepping in. the cool embrace of the lake greets your skin as you wade in. the sun now casts a dim golden glow on the rippling surface.

as you move deeper into the water, you feel a sense of liberty wash over you. you let out a contented sigh, feeling weightless and unburdened. billy is a few feet away from you, beckoning you to come closer with a smile on his face. you oblige, splashing water playfully in your wake.

as you approach him, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close. you can feel the heat emanating from his body, warming you up in the cool water. your bare skin presses against his, and you can feel a hint of longing course through your veins.

"you're s'beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "prettiest girl i've ever seen."

you chuckle slightly, looking beside him to the water, "you're just blowing smoke up my ass."

his hand finds your cheek, gently beckoning you to face him fully, "why would i ever do that?" he hums, "i only say things i mean, honey."

you blink at him, too far gone to stop your gaping, "you're a charmer, billy bonney. do you hear that a lot?"

he laughs, both hands now coming to rest at your hips, forcing you to wrap your legs around his, "i only need to hear it from you."

he says it so carelessly, without a thought. he's telling the truth, you surmise.

"why? you like me or something?" the words come out genuine, despite your teasing intent.

billy's eyes trail down to your lips, "i like you a whole lot, honey," you feel his grip grow steadier, holding you closer to him. he looks back up at you, gaze tempting, "i like you s'much i worked an extra four days on your farm jus’ to see you."

the revelation hangs in the air, and you find yourself caught in a suspended moment, the water lapping gently around you. billy's admission resonates, sinking deep into the newfound connection you've shared over these past days. his stare, earnest and reserved, locks with yours, and you can't help but feel a swirl of emotions.

a smile plays on your lips, a mixture of surprise and awe, "that's dedication." you reply, a playful sparkle in your eyes.

billy grins, his hands still securely holding you. "only for you, honey. i'm nothin' if not devoted."

you gleam at his words, intrinsically leaning closer to him. you're so close to letting your lips brush his before you stop, eager to see the weight of his affection once more, "you can kiss me now, if that's what you're waiting for."

with that, he presses his lips to yours, kissing you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

billy breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and nips along the way. you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your skin, letting out a soft sigh as he finds the sensitive spot on your neck.

"you're gonna be the death o'me." he whispers against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

your fingers tangle in his hair as he continues his assault on your neck, alternating between gentle kisses and nibbles. you can feel the heat building between your bodies, the water around you providing a cooling effect to your heated embrace.

billy's hands slip down to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him so that there's barely any space between you. he grinds his hips against yours, earning a moan from deep in your throat. you can feel his hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of his boxers.

your eyes flutter open and you lock gazes with him, the intensity of his gaze mesmerizing. you tilt your head back down, allowing him to steal another kiss. his tongue teases yours. his hands roam up and down your body, exploring every inch of you he can with a passionate fervor.

you can feel yourself being taken into the depths of him until you can barely think or breathe. it's only when he finally pulls away, that you realize the afternoon has fully evolved into the beginnings of nighttime. the sky above you is almost entirely dark, littered with stars.

somehow, you still don’t think the kiss was long enough.

billy smiles at you, brushing his hair away from his eyes. you can't help but smile back, feeling content and happy.

"i think i like you too much." he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your skin. you laugh softly, feeling the same way.

a hum of agreement, "me too." you whisper back, pulling him into a tight hug. you stay like that for a while, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace.

as the night deepens, you and billy finally decide to make your way back to the truck. billy helps you out of the water, his touch lingering as you both reluctantly part from the tranquil lake. the air is filled with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, their symphony accompanying your footsteps as you follow the narrow trail back to the pickup truck.

the woods, now cloaked in darkness, take longer to exit. the moonlight filters through the dense canopy of leaves, casting shadows on the forest floor.

once back at the truck, you find yourself wrapped in a cozy blanket billy had thoughtfully brought along. the drive home is filled with a comfortable silence, the events of the evening settling into a cherished memory. the road is dimly lit by the truck's headlights, and the night sky is a canvas of stars above.

as you approach the farmhouse, the thrill of the night lingers between you and billy. he parks the truck, and the engine falls silent. the two of you sit in the quiet for a moment, savoring the experience.

"thank you for tonight, you were real sweet." you say, breaking the silence.

billy turns to you, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. "i should be thanking you, for goin’ out with me. so thank you, darling. i think you're real sweet too."

"i'm real glad we met." you add.

he reaches over, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a comfortable gesture. "me too," he replies, his gaze holding yours.

with a reluctant smile, you open the truck door, preparing to step out. billy, however, stops you with a gentle tug on your hand.

"before you go," he starts, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, "i was wonderin' if you'd like to do this again sometime. maybe i could take you down to the rodeo?"

the question catches you off guard, but the sincerity in his expression is undeniable. you feel a warmth spread through your chest, and you nod, "i'd like that, billy."

he grins, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his features. "good. it's a date then." you agree, leaning up and placing a peck on his pink lips before stepping out of the truck.

it's not until you're safely inside that he drives away into the night, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.

even as you slip into bed, the memories of the night play in your mind like a vivid dream. you drift into sleep with thoughts of the lake, the evening kisses, and the now waivered apprehension of the farmhand.

you've found yourself ensnared with billy bonney.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

billy taglist— @honey-bees-13 @poppyflower-22 @black-yn @siriuslybeloved @sherlollyliveson18 @cosmicspacewitch @aravenswritingdeskblog @sabrinasbd @cqsmo @coconut-dreamz @preciouspinkyy

₊˚౨ৎ˚₊ to remain on my taglist, make sure to interact :)

#billy the kid #billy bonney #billy the kid x reader #billy bonney x reader #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #tom blyth!billy the kid #tom blyth #billy bonney fluff #billy the kid fluff #i know everyone’s in their coriolanus era but…

534 notes · View notes

im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 11 months

Text

Tiny ideas 2

----

1. Danny, in his new and very human black and white vigilante outfit runs past Penguin who had gotten soaked when a car full of hooligans wearing clown masks ran threw a puddle and splashed him.

Danny, not knowing who this was, tapped him on the shoulder as he ran past, running his intangibility through the man and letting the water fall off him, leaving him nice and dry again.

Penguin makes note to pay both back in very different ways.

----

2. Phantom, having been exorcisized from Amity Park and essentially banished and unable to return, roams around the multiverse looking for something to do.

Upon coming across the creepiest doll hes ever seen in a trash bin, he decides to mess with some local bat themed vigilantes and possesses the doll.

His first victim is Red Robin. Danny in all his creepy doll glory toddles out from behind a chimney as his target is running across the rooftop in his direction. Birdy stopped dead (heh) and stared at the doll.

Danny picked good. The doll was porcelain and cracked, missing one of its glass eyes and moss growing out of the empty socket and around various parts of its body. Its dress was once a lovely blue or green velvet but was now patchy and worn.

He turned the dolls head around at an unnatural angle to fix its gaze on the vigilante, its frozen polite smile adding to its eerieness, and in a moment of impulse said, "I'll see you soon." In the most creepiest little girl voice he could manage, using his ghost powers to make the words seem to drift upon the air towards the hero.

And just like that, doll Danny was gone.

RR almost frantically contacted oracle, "Did you see that?!"

"RR your signal cut out for a few minutes, backup should arrive soon. What happened?"

-----

3. Jason has been getting followed around by this wierd kid who is prime Brucie adoption bait. Kid kept jumping out of nowhere without anyone being able to sense him to ask him the weirdest questions (Damian was so startled that he nearly stabbed the kid on reflex. Not that he'd ever admit it).

The questions where things like, "Do you like books? What are your favorites? Can you cook? Do you like red heads? Do you like dogs? How opposed are you to having supervillian in-laws? What if they give you free experimental weaponry? ....how about some laser cannons and a jet?

Jason ends up getting kidnapped by this kid and dumped in from of this pretty girl as the kid tells her, "I went out and got you a boyfriend who won't try to murder you. Don't screw this up!" Before the kid ran out of the room.

Jazz was mortified.

Jason is still on the floor where he was deposited earlier, "So..." he begins, "I heard you like Jane Austin?"

-----

4. Phantom faked his death in front of the people of Amity Park, just to see how they would react to his passing and kind of in hopes of something changing. He couldn't keep sacrificing everything for these people, after all.

He did not like how the people reacted. Danny had to move away cause if he heard one more person say it was a good thing "that monster" died hes going to hurt someone.

Gotham seemed lovely this time of year and its one place that neither his parents or Vlad would visit. Vlad because if he tried anything at all the worlds greatest detective would ruin him and his parents because they once tried to hunt Batman and Robin only for Batman to terrify them to the point of never returning after they hurt his bird.

Danny got hired at Wayne Tech after submitting a wide range of devices but couldn't do much thanks to still being a minor. Thankfully Mr. Wayne was very generous and kept him housed and fed while he finished his online schooling and graduated early.

(Heavy angst for Danny.)

---

5. Danny hadn't seen Cujo in a while, which wasn't too unusual, but it have been a long time since hed seen his puppy and he was overdue a visit.

Danny pulled out his dog whistle, one normally used for emergencies and that Cujo would never ever ignore.

Only...Cujo didn't come. Now Danny goes on a journey to track down his missing dog. Following clues and trails across different realities, dimensions and universes to find his lost dog.

He did not expect to meet a bird themed vigilante along the way, not for them to insist he help him on his quest. Robin seemed very wary of the Infinite Realms the first time he entered them and had tons of questions. But bird boy was great company and Cujo would love him so Danny could deal.

#dp x dc #danny phantom #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny fenton #batman #tim drake #red robin #yum #body horror #tw: body horror #dolls

1K notes · View notes

fanaticsnail · 8 days

Note

Ohh, Snail, now I can't stop thinking about you writing that Corazon x AussiReader idea from the fanart you rebloged. Poor sweet baby 🥺 dealing with giant spiders and cute feral angry koalas, nooo, Cora, don't try to hug them, they may look cute, but they will eat your face 😱

Rosinante's Trip Down Under

Masterlist Here

Oh my goodness, Miss Vita! How gorgeous is it, though? Art by @rainnartt (CHECK OUT THEIR OTHER ART, IT'S AMAZING!!)

Synopsis: Modern AU, Rosinante visiting your hometown in Queensland Australia. He is overwhelmed by the cultural differences, but loves to learn the slang.

I did go a little crazy in the tags, definitely ran away with me a little here.

Could you imagine, though? As an Australian, I can confirm: if it looks like it can kill you, it can kill you. If it looks like it can’t kill you, it absolutely can kill you. Our poor, clumsy man never stood much of a chance, did he?

In this picture, he looks like could be in Bondi, the Gold Coast or Surfers Paradise by the looks of it. I am going to put him in the Queensland region for the sake of the plot. This is how I see it going.

Drabble Fic Word Count: 1,800+

Themes: rosinante x gn!reader, platonic fic, crack fic, modern au, reader is Australian, Rosinante is Spanish, Au he lives.

Tag list: @since-im-already-here @i-am-vita @feral-artistry @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @remisloves @mfreedomstuff @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @carrotsunshine

Taking your new friend Donquixote Rosinante to your favorite sights in Surfers Paradise. His eyes widen in wonder, staring at sights that come so naturally to you, but are so out of the norm for him. You are happy to play tourist in your hometown, marveling at the sights as he experiences them for the first time.

Outside of your local McDonalds and picking up a common comfort breakfast food for his adult adoptive son, who elected to remain back at home in the hotel as he adjusts to the time difference, Rosinante’s shriek prompted you to turn to meet him.

“What the hell is that?” he remarks, extending his pointer finger towards the large waste bin adjacent to the doorway.

“Oh, that’s a skip, Corazon. The red is for rubbish,” you continue, pointing at the other bin, “The yellow lid is for recyclables, and the green is for food and biodegradable-.”

“No! The thing with the massive beak!” he shrieks, watching as the dark-head bird pokes its head above the bin. The large hooked beak elevates a half-consumed cheeseburger before it gulps down the burger in a single motion.

“Oh!” you laugh at your blonde friend, clapping a hand over his shoulder, “That’s an ibis. We call them ‘bin chickens’ or ‘tip chooks’ depending on your region. They’re scavengers, they won’t hurt you.”

“A bin chicken, skip bin,” he hums, his brow furrowed in deep thought as he commits the name to memory, “And you call McDonalds ‘Macca’s’, right?”

“That’s right,” you hum your confirmation with a curt nod. He hums in response before ushering you along the pathway towards the hotel.

As you continue walking along the sandy coastline, you notice he’s halted outside a petrol station. A large truck is parked beside the building: checkered blue and white painted on it’s side and large font titled “POLICE” and “0.05: DRUGS”.

“Is this your local law enforcement?” he asks you, tilting his head to the side.

“Yeah, that’s our local booze bus parked next to a divvy van,” you nod in affirmation, “They do regular drug and alcohol testing for drivers to ensure their safety on the road. Weird that they’re outside of a servo, though. Usually they’re on the main roads.” He nods his head and hums.

“Booze bus. Divvy Van,” he looks over to the petrol station, arching his brow high, “Servo?”

“I know, it’s a lot,” you confirm with an apologetic smile, “I promise it gets easier to adapt to the slang the longer you practice.” He nods again.

Passing a local park with a children’s play area, you manage to see your friend David from work, his two children playing together on the looped climbing frames and plastic slide.

“Davo!” you call out to him, waving your unoccupied hand in front of you - considering the other contains a paper bag filled with the fruits of your labor.

“How the bloody hell are’ ya goin’, Darl’?!” his nasally voice cracked to you, “Who’s the fella ya got there with ya?” You smile at him, walking to embrace him.

“This is Rosinante Corazon, the friend I mentioned was visiting from Spain,” you informed him, “How’s the missus back at home? How’s the kids?”

“Mate! Howzit goin’?” he extended his hand out to Rosinante, who placed his hand within and gave it a gentle shake who mumbled a soft ‘pleased to meet you’ in response.

“Ah, and the ankle biters are doin’ great. Givin’ the missus a bit of a reprieve here at the park, tough gig bein’ an ambo driver.” He glanced over his shoulder at his children, ensuring they were safe now they’ve climbed to an elevated height.

“Oh I’m glad she’s managing to take a break. She’s a tough lady,” you nod to him, smiling over at the two children who wave at you while playing with a make-shift telescope.

“Well, I shouldn’t keep you,” he confesses, gesturing down to the brown bag clutched in your hands, “Don’t want that brekky gettin’ cold now, do we?” You laugh at him, waving him off before waving at his children.

Rosinante remained silent, only muttering a few words that stood out to him: “Darl’, fella, mate, missus, ankle biters, ambo driver, brekky,” on a perpetual loop.

“You okay there, Rosi?” you quirk up at him, a soft smile pulling at your cheeks.

“I’m alright, Darl,” he attempted, his voice falling to his nose and emulating the accent he heard moments prior, “Is that a common term of endearment here? ‘Darl’ and ‘mate’? How do you go with gender neutral titles?”

“Both of those titles can be used interchangeably, regardless of gender,” you inform him, “It all depends on context and the way you say it.” he hums again, nodding along and muttering several phrases he learnt. He reaches into the circular cup cardboard and pulls out his coffee and takes a small sip.

Your feet finally carry your way over to the lobby of the hotel where he was staying with Law, his body immediately halting in front of the surf, dive and ski shop. His head cocked to the side, staring at the large, rectangular basket outside the shop. You follow his line of sight, which remained locked on to a large, canvas sign attached to the basket.

“Ah,” you click your tongue, noticing they’re focussed on a common shoe worn in this area, “Do you and Law need a new pair of thongs? I know the bottoms melt a little when the bitumen gets a bit hot.”

“You want me and Law to wear what?” he turned towards you with his eyes wide and jaw dropped. It took a moment for you to understand the miscommunication, your eyes growing wide and your nervous laughter propelling your anxiety further.

“No, no, no, no, no!,” you managed to choke out, “No, we call ‘flip-flops’ ‘thongs’ here. Is that what had you a little confused? A basket full of shoes where you thought lingerie should be?” Rosinante laughed alongside you, shaking his head from side to side.

“You got me,” he chuckled, raising his coffee to his lips once more, “Our differences are quite vast, aren’t they?”

“I suppose they are,” you acknowledge with a shrug and a broad, tight-lipped smile. He hums once again, muttering several phrases as you step into the elevator.

Clicking the button to the appropriate floor, the doors open wide to reveal the carpeted corridor of the hotel room. You offer to hold the coffee tray in your unoccupied hand as Rosinante clumsily attempts to fish out his key-card from his pocket. He thanks you, his hand getting stuck in his pocket as he shimmies his shoulders to break it out.

Finally clutching the key card, he places it in the door and swings it wide to reveal Law sitting on the plush bench beside the large window. His left knee was bent, his right leg extended as he reclined against the window. His gray orbs draw away from watching the gentle crash of waves towards you both as you enter the suite.

Before you had a moment to greet the younger man, Rosinante’s broad grin and best nasally voice interrupted your train of thought. Rosinante gently took the brown paper bag from your hands and offered it to his son.

“Howzit goin’, Darl’! Brought you some Brekky from Maccas!” he walked forwards, thrusting the bag into Law’s hands, “Saw a bin chicken eating some scraps from the red skip, and passed a booze bus outside the servo on the way back.”

Law chose to remain silent, wordlessly taking the brown bag from Rosinante and maintaining unbreaking eye contact. Rosinante took that as his queue to continue relaying his adventure.

“Saw Davo being a good fella at the park with his ankle biters, his missus has been working hard as an ambo driver,” he continued, biting his lip as he attempted to relay the trip back to his absolutely unamused son, “Then we passed a shop on the way up. Was gonna get us a pair of matching thongs for the trip, but thought you would get embarrassed to be matching with your Dad.”

Law’s fingers stuttered their descent into the bag, choosing to take a lengthy breath instead.

“Dad?” Rosinante quirked his head up, turning to look at you over his shoulder. You were doing your best to stifle your laughter by clutching your lip in your palm, “Do you still call parents ‘mum’ and ‘dad’ here? Is there an Aussie term of endearment he could use for me instead?”

“‘Cunt’ comes to mind,” Law murmured, prompting Rosinante to snap his head back over to his son. His heart shattered as Law drew up a hashbrown and began nibbling at its golden exterior.

“L-Law-?” Rosi’s heartbreak was depicted in the quiver in his tone. You walk over to your friend’s side and offer him his forgotten coffee with a smile.

“-Rosinante,” you broke him away from his sorrow with a soft giggle, “‘Cunt’ is also a term of endearment here. Law and I had a little conversation about cultural clashes last night when we were playing cards. You fell asleep early, remember?”

“It is my favorite Australian term of endearment,” Law admitted with a soft hum, reaching up his outstretched hand to wordlessly ask for a coffee, “But your insults are far better. Quite original.”

“Okay, Champ,” you mock Law, passing him his cup of coffee, “Big words coming from a guy with a face like a smashed crab.”

“Coming from a Drongo with the personality of a dropped meat pie,” Law smirked in return, taking the cup from your hands. Your joint laughter ricocheted from the hotel walls, prompting Rosinante’s prior sour mood to pick back up.

As you all ate your brekky in comfortable silence, you gazed out onto the beach below. Law followed your eyes, looping at the large swell of the waves. The choppy waves crashed against the golden waves, the vendors beginning to set up their canopies to sell their wares along the boardwalk.

“You did well, Rosinante,” you complimented the tall, blonde man, “Using our words in the appropriate context, I mean.” Rosinante smiled at you, placing his paper rubbish in the brown paper bag.

“Thank you, Mate,” he said with a soft wink, “I appreciate the praise for my efforts.”

“No wakkas, makka,” you smile at him with a shrug. Both men quip their head up, their ears pricking and confusion written on their face.

“We’ll get into that later, I guess,” you chuckle at the two of them as their confusion deepens.

The large Australian crowd began to take out their surf and boogie boards, set up nets for volleyball, and their wickets for beach cricket. The variety of populus below in various designs bathers, placing sunscreen on their bodies to protect from the deadly UV rays.

“Beach day?” you ask them, smile drawing up over your features once more.

“Beach day,” Rosinante nods in confirmation, excited to learn more slang and cultural differences as the day broadens its rays over the oceanic backdrop.

#one piece #x reader #modern au #donquixote rosinante #donquixote corazon #trafalgar law #op law #op rosinante #op corazon #rosinante x reader #platonic fic #australian slang #law x reader #op x reader #one piece fluff #ask snail #snail answers

70 notes · View notes

snwpcktz · 8 months

Text

A GAME OF CRUELTY (pt. 1)

PAIRING: jay x fem!reader (ft. heeseung)

GENRE: hunger games au (pre second rebellion), neighbors to friends to lovers, angst

SYNOPSIS: after years of praying to not get picked for the reaping, the odds end up not being in y/n’s favor and she is chosen as district 7’s female tribute. she plans to simply sacrifice herself early, since it would be nearly impossible for her to beat all the other tributes and make it back safely to her now ex-boyfriend, ethan. but her perspective of the games change when her next door neighbor, jay, is chosen as the male tribute—and maybe her feelings towards him will change, too.

WARNINGS: mature themes (violence, death), major character death, descriptions of violence and injuries, love triangle, swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the binary genders to refer to the reaping tributes

WC: 10.3k

NOTE: hello hello !! the first part of my hunger games fic is finally here!! again, i tried to keep things as accurate as i could but this is set in the year before katniss and peeta were reaped, which means i don’t have a lot of set info to use. there will be a pt. 2, so if you’d like to be tagged pls reply to this post or my wips page! thank you and i hope you enjoy the read!! <3

reaping day. the most dreaded day every single year.

every year, two children between the ages of twelve and eighteen would be chosen as tributes to participate in the annual hunger games. they would fight against twenty-two other tributes to death, leaving only one survivor as the victor of the games. it was cruel, vicious, and the reason why y/n couldn't sleep peacefully every summer night.

y/n exited her house with a slip of paper in her hand. her boyfriend, ethan lee, had just sent her a little note asking for her to meet him in a nearby forest. it was the last year he would be reaped, so y/n brought a deer trinket from the local market as a gift.

once she locked her front door, she took a quick look around her neighborhood. it was like any other day in district 7, except that anyone could sense the dread in every single civilian's face. parents, grandparents, and children alike all held the same expression.

it only soured y/n’s mood. being the only child of her family, y/n’s mother stressed every single year over the possibility that her daughter could be chosen for a game that leads straight to death. it broke y/n’s heart to see her mother cry next to their fireplace every night, praying that her only child wouldn’t become a victim of the games.

her father wasn’t any different. although he was a man of few emotions, y/n could see how relieved he was when her name wasn’t called out during past reapings. his way of showing care was by teaching her how to throw axes from a young age. although he claimed that it was just a skill for her to use in “necessary circumstances”, y/n knew that he meant for it to be used in case she got reaped.

clutching onto the deer trinket tightly, y/n began her trek to the forest. it wasn’t uncommon for her to meet up with ethan in a forest--after all, they lived in district 7. the sounds of birds chirping filled her ears as she entered the area, accompanied by the droplets of rain falling from the night before.

she stepped over logs of wood on the ground, most likely left over from a recent lumber job. passing by the stream that marked the center of the forest, y/n made a sharp right turn, walking in the direction of the border to district 9.

y/n stopped several meters away from the fence that marked the border, decorated with large warning signs. she scanned the area around her but there was no sight of ethan.

“ethan?” she called out, her voice reaching to the dense tops of the forest.

it was silent for a moment before she heard movement above. “up here.”

she snapped her head towards the sound, now noticing ethan on top of a tree branch. he pushed himself off, landing safely on both feet on the padded ground.

“hey,” he said, approaching y/n.

“hey,” she whispered.

they stood in comfortable silence for a moment, savoring the seconds they could spare with each other. y/n was the first to speak, fiddling with the metal trinket in her hand.

“i brought you this,” she began, holding out the deer-shaped item to him. “take it as a good luck charm.”

ethan’s hand gently took the trinket, running his thumb over its grooves. his lips curled into a smile as he responded, “thanks, y/n.”

but the smile didn’t last. he swallowed thickly before continuing, “so, uh, i asked to meet you to tell you something.”

y/n nodded. “i’m listening.”

ethan paused for a moment, closing his eyes before taking a deep breath. “we…we need to break up.”

y/n could feel her heart drop. her breathing slowed as her mouth ran dry. she couldn’t understand the sudden request. hadn’t she been a good girlfriend?

“w- what?” she spluttered. “why?”

“it’s reaping day,” ethan solemnly stated.

“yeah, but this happens every year!” y/n retorted, feeling frustration rise in her voice. “plus, it’s your last year being reaped!”

“that’s the point, y/n!” ethan groaned, brows furrowing. “it’s my last year! do you know how many times i’ve applied for tesserae? my name’s in there twenty fucking times, y/n.”

y/n gulped. she knew ethan’s family wasn’t well off and that he had family members he needed to provide for, but she didn’t expect that he applied for tesserae that often. she could feel tears well up in her eyes, heartbroken for his situation.

“i have such a high chance of getting picked,” ethan whispered, worry clouding his eyes. he delicately held y/n’s hands, causing her to raise her head. “if i die, i don’t want you to hold onto me.”

“you’re not getting picked!” y/n screamed, ripping her hands away from his. “ethan, you’re the only man i love! you can’t just end things like this!”

she crumbled to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest. hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed, feeling the gentle rubs of ethan’s hand on her head.

“it's not fair!" she wailed. “it’s not fucking fair!” deep down, y/n knew that ethan was right--he did have a higher chance of being picked, and that tore her apart.

"nothing is fair here," ethan mumbled, hand tangled in her hair. "but i just want you to know that if i do get picked, please...take care of my family for me."

y/n sniffled and nodded her head. "thanks," ethan whispered, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

a sudden gust of strong wind blew onto them, causing both of them to look up. a blimp flew across the forest, stripping trees of loose leaves and ground of dry dirt. they both immediately knew what it meant, sharing a look together.

"it's time."

rows of teenagers stood in front of the hall of justice, surrounded by members of the capitol with cameras and film equipment. peacekeepers had already flooded the district, running identification checks and bordering the area for the reaping. y/n could still feel her finger throbbing from the prick she received mere minutes ago as she stood in line.

the large screens next to the stage had already began running, displaying the various members of district 7. y/n could spot a pixelated version of herself, clad in a modest white sundress and matching white ballet flats. she turned her head to the left, spotting ethan standing in his row in no time.

but he wasn't looking at her. he kept his head forward, a solemn gaze on his face. y/n turned her head back around, letting out a pained sigh. she knew that whatever emotions he was feeling at the moment could never be experienced by her, a girl who lived in an only child household in a moderately well off neighborhood. but she couldn't help but feel selfish, desperately wanting ethan to be spared from the cruel hands of the reaping.

so she prayed. she clasped her hands together and lowered her head. please, she thought. please don't pick ethan. please let the odds be in his favor, just this once.

the sounds of footsteps coming to a stop and doors opening caused y/n to raise her head, eyes now fixated on the marble building in the front. members of the district government and previous victors of district 7 entered the stage, followed by a woman with a bright smile on her face.

luxurious, velvety, emerald green clothing adorned her body along with a matching sun hat and dozens of gold jewelry. her heels clicked on the wooden stage as she made her way towards the podium, perfectly glossed lips framing her pearly smile.

"welcome! welcome, welcome," she announced, her cheery voice echoing throughout the area. "once again, i am your district escort, tiffany young! happy hunger games! and may the odds be ever in your favor."

tiffany cleared her throat before continuing, "now! before we begin, we have a very special film brought to you all the way from the capitol!"

she raised her glove-clothed arm towards the screen as a video began playing. "war. terrible war," president snow's voice boomed from the speakers.

y/n noticed several girls around her rolling their eyes. she couldn't blame them. it was boring having to watch the same video every single year, especially when it did barely any justification for the games.

she turned her head to look behind her at the crowd of parents. she spotted her mom, head down and whispering words, most likely prayers for her daughter. her father was next to her, a comforting arm wrapped around his wife as he stoically stared at the screen.

it was just like every year. what was there to worry about?

y/n glanced at ethan. he had the same expression as her father, but she could see that he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. a soft sigh left her lips. there was one thing to worry about--ethan.

she decided to pray once more, lowering her head and squeezing her eyes shut.

please, pick anyone but ethan. i beg for you to spare him.

"this is how we remember our past," the voice of president snow stated. "this is how we safeguard our future."

"what a remarkable film!" tiffany gushed as the music began to quiet. "now, the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing district 7 in the 73rd annual hunger games."

y/n felt her heartbeat quicken as she watched the escort's smile grow. "as usual, ladies first."

tiffany walked to the reaping bowl with poise, heels echoing in the silence that overwhelmed the district. she reached a gloved hand in, fishing for an entry slip. she gently selected one, returning to the podium elegantly.

tiffany took the liberty to clear her throat as she undid the delicate tape on the paper slip. she glanced at the crowd before announcing the name with a smile.

"y/n l/n."

the world stopped for a moment. y/n couldn't prevent the ringing in her ears as her lips parted in shock. the pounding in her chest increased to a ridiculous speed as the girls around her turned, isolating her from the crowd. her hands grew clammy as tiffany laid her eyes on her, the smile on her face appearing more sinister than before.

"come on up, dear!" the escort called, her voice sounding sickly sweet in y/n's ears.

y/n's feet moved slowly, dragging against the gravel on the ground as she passed by her fellow civilians. she didn't dare to look up from her pathway, shrinking at the feeling of thousands of eyes on her.

she could feel the peacekeepers behind her place their hands on her back, guiding her to the stage. her eyes were shaking, losing sight of each step she was taking.

she grasped onto the railing of the stairs, barely feeling the soles of her feet. she could see tiffany at the top of the stairs, reaching a hand out to her. "come, come!" she said to y/n, gesturing to her with her hand.

y/n gratefully took it, allowing the texture of her velvet gloves to bring her back to reality. tiffany placed her other hand on her shoulder, gently leading her to the left side of the podium.

"well, let's have a big hand for our first tribute, y/n l/n!" tiffany declared into the microphone.

the weak applause clouded y/n's head, contrasting the striking speed her heart was thumping at. she used the last of her strength and consciousness to lift her head, searching the crowd in front of her.

she could spot her mother's face, frozen with shock and panic. her father's mouth was open, completely bewildered and in disbelief. y/n moved her eyes to the crowd of teen boys, where she found ethan already staring straight at her, a fresh tear sliding down his cheek.

y/n swallowed thickly, not breaking the eye contact. here she was, standing on a stage that she never thought she would be standing on. her lips quivered as she gained the strength to mouth an "i love you", triggering a rush of tears to ethan's eyes.

she chose to cut the eye contact after that, unable to watch her ex-lover cry. she stared straight at the wooden floor, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to hold back the tears in her eyes.

"and now for the boys!" tiffany stated.

the escort walked to the reaping bowl on the opposite end of the stage, quickly plucking a slip from its depths and returning to the podium. she let out a small hum before unfolding the slip.

"jay park."

y/n raised her head to look at the crowd. the boys had distanced themselves from the said person, who looked just as surprised as y/n was when she was chosen.

y/n recognized him. he was her next door neighbor, a boy known for being respectful and hard-working. at just a year older than y/n, he was preparing to enter the workforce full-time, learning the ups and downs of his family's lumber business. he was known to be skilled with axes and saws, his muscular arms and broad chest proof of it all.

he wore a white dress shirt and black slacks, dark hair slicked with gel and neatly combed. the peacekeepers guided him to the stage, his dress shoes sounding every step he took up the wooden stairs. he stood on the other side of the podium, observing the crowd from his new perspective.

y/n turned to ethan, a part of her relieved that he wasn't picked. but he clearly did not feel the same, his eyes now red and cheeks stained with tears. he looked at y/n so hopelessly, it made her feel ashamed for feeling even a bit of relief.

"shake hands, you two!" tiffany's voice said, snapping y/n out of her trance.

she glanced at jay, whose eyes were already on her. they quickly joined hands, jay's large one wrapping around y/n's shaking one.

"happy hunger games!" tiffany announced, her smile brighter than before. "and may the odds be ever in your favor."

y/n had spent the last few minutes curled up in the corner of a room in the hall of justice, sobbing to herself as she processed what just happened. in the span of just several minutes, she had been chosen as a tribute for her district in a game of death.

her grip on her knees tightened. although her father had somewhat prepared her for this scenario, there was no way in hell that she would survive the hunger games. sure, she knew how to throw axes and she was pretty good at climbing trees, but she was sure that it was nothing compared to what other tributes can do.

she felt her tears flood out as she fell into a hole of despair. it was impossible for her to win, huh? i'll just die first, she decided, choking out her sobs. i'll die first so that my parents won't gain false hope. i won't let them waste tears over me.

the creak from the door opening caught y/n's attention. a peacekeeper held it open, allowing her parents to step inside the room. "you have three minutes," he stated before shutting the door.

y/n immediately stood up, running to her parents. "mom! dad!"

her mother engulfed her in a tight hug, warm tears falling onto y/n's shoulders. "my precious, sweet little baby...why is the world so cruel to you?" she whispered, her voice thick with anguish.

y/n only cried harder, burying her face into her mother's neck. "you don't deserve this, baby," her mother weeped. "you deserve to live a happy, long life with us."

"m- mom, i'm gonna die," y/n babbled, feeling her words slur after crying for so long.

"don't say that, please," her mother begged. y/n could feel more droplets of warmth land on her shoulder. "please, please! don't ever say that again."

"y/n, you have to try your best," her father's voice reasoned. "you need to fight until the end."

y/n could only cry more, letting out a gut-wrenching scream. "i- i don't wanna leave so early..."

she could feel her mother squeeze tighter as her sobs got louder. "baby, y- you know we love you so, so much, right?"

"yes, mom...o- of course i know."

"please, live. for us."

the sound of the door opening caused y/n to hold onto her mother tighter, watching the peacekeepers heard towards her parents through her swollen eyes.

"no! stop!" she yelled, gripping onto her mother's arm. she could feel another peacekeeper restrain her from behind, ripping her away from her parents.

she wailed, pushing away the peacekeeper. she watched her mom get dragged out of the room, burying her face in her hands as her back shook from the intensity of her sobbing. her father turned around, sending a solemn smile to her.

she watched a stream of liquid drop from her father's eye. it was the first time she saw her father cry.

the door slammed shut for a moment before it reopened, a tall man entering with a peacekeeper at his tail.

"ethan!" y/n ran to the boy, who let her press her puffy face on his chest.

he rested his head on top of hers, hugging her hair while closing his eyes. "i thought it was going to be me," he whispered, breath shaky. "but it turned out to be much more worse than that."

he gently cupped y/n's face before bending down, swiftly connecting their lips. wet with tears, their lips molded against one another, filled with desperation and despair.

they separated after a moment, allowing ethan press his lips against y/n's forehead as she sniffled. "i still love you, y/n."

his words only caused her to choke out another sob. "i'll love you forever. you know i love you so."

the dreaded door opened once again as a peacekeeper pulled on ethan's arm, forcing him away from her. his eyes welled with tears once more as he mouthed another "i love you" before the door shut, physically separating the two.

y/n collapsed to the ground, screaming as she punched the ground with her fist. i love you too, ethan.

after what seemed like hours of crying and peacekeepers forcing her into a carriage, y/n had somewhat collected herself, lightly sniffling as she gazed out of the window.

tiffany seemed almost unaffected by the girl, chattering about the capitol to jay with a grin on her face. she would spare a glance at y/n every so often, but decided to not speak to her, assuming that she wanted some personal space in the cramped carriage.

before they knew it, they had arrived at the train station. "just an hour and we will arrive at the capitol!" tiffany cheered as they boarded the train.

as soon as they entered, the tributes were greeted with luxury they had only dreamed about before. crystal chandeliers, gold-plated silverware, and plush cushions were laid out just for them. glass displays held varieties of baked sweets and savory bites, followed by an impressive selection of beverages stored in crystal pitchers.

y/n’s mouth gaped at the sight, slowly stepping into the train cabin. of course, the capitol is different.

“now, now, sit down children!” tiffany sweetly said, guiding the two with gloved hands on their backs to a table. “i’ll be back in just a moment!”

y/n hesitantly sat down in a chair that was much too lavish for her, practically swallowing her in the lush cushioning. jay followed in suit, seating himself next to her.

“this is insane,” jay muttered, eyes fixated on the delicate china set on the table.

y/n hummed in response, blinking her swollen eyes as she took in her surroundings. “it’s crazy how we went from being neighbors to sacrificing ourselves for our district,” she mumbled, a frown etched onto her face.

jay could only sigh at the comment. one day, they were going about their daily errands, chatting as the children of families who lived next door. the next, they were seated in a high-speed rail train on the way to the capitol, where their desperate battle for survival would be broadcasted for all of panem to see.

“y/n, jay, i want to introduce you to someone!” tiffany’s bubbly voice rang.

the escort approached the table, followed by a woman sporting a coffee brown blazer and a matching pencil skirt. her raven black hair was highlighted with scarlet red streaks, all tied back into a ponytail that moved from side to side with each step she took.

she slid into the seat across from y/n, a cold expression on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. “this is johanna mason, victor of the 71st hunger games!” tiffany introduced, elegantly seating herself next to the said woman. “she will be your mentor as a victor from district 7.”

silence overcame the room. y/n and jay stared at johanna expectingly, who was avoiding their gazes by locking her eyes onto the table in front of her. tiffany sat perfectly straight, her smile slightly faltering at the sudden change in volume.

“well,” she said, standing up and brushing off her velvet skirt. “i will leave you three to it!”

her emerald green stilettos clicked against the hard floor as she moved to a cabin next door.

“so, you’re the unlucky pair that got pulled into the games this year,” johanna grumbled, eyeing both of the tributes. “i’m not someone who’ll sugarcoat things, so you both better be fucking prepared for what i’m about to say.”

y/n and jay nodded, eager to hear from a fellow district citizen and a victor of the games.

“you have literally no chance of winning.”

johanna’s words caused y/n’s heart to drop. she could tell that jay was experiencing the same, tension quickly swarming around the table.

“but you have a good chance of surviving longer if you follow my advice,” she continued, resting her elbows on the polished table.

johanna picked up a gold butter knife, running her fingers along the edges. "you're not a career district, but you're not the most disadvantaged. that's what 7 is--always stuck in the middle. lumber is all we're known for, so everyone who watches the games knows that we can handle our axes. but don't let them think that."

she stabbed the table with the knife, causing both of the tributes to flinch. "you need to act weak," johanna declared, looking at both of them in the eye. "that's how i won. make them believe you won't survive anyway, hide, and attack at the last moment. fool them. use their stupidity to your advantage. that's the only way a middleman can win."

she turned to jay, ponytail following her head movement. "you. jay park, seventeen. i heard you're already in the lumber business."

"yes, ma'am," jay replied, a little intimidated by johanna's stare.

"don't call me that, it makes you sound like a pussy," johanna spat, leaning back in her seat. "call me johanna."

"yes, johanna."

she let out a hum of approval. "are you good with any weapons?"

"i've worked with axes and saws," jay answered. "i've done mostly chopping, cutting, and sanding my whole life. some heavy lifting and business communication, too."

"great, strength and customer service," johanna summarized with a nod. she turned her head to the right, locking her eyes onto y/n. "now you. y/n, seventeen. any experience with weapons?"

"my father taught me how to throw axes since i was little," y/n responded. she found herself fiddling with the hem of her dress, nervous for her new mentor's reaction.

"axe throwing, i like it," johanna replied. "unfortunately, there are no throwable axes offered in the games, so you're sort of fucked there."

y/n felt her breath hitch. before she could speak, johanna continued, playing with the knife stuck in the table, "but knife throwing isn't far from axe throwing. plus, if you train enough, you might be able to throw the axes they have."

y/n let out the breath she was holding in, somewhat relieved by her mentor's response. she had never felt so grateful towards her father.

"now, this whole week is dedicated to preparing for the games," johanna stated, changing the topic at hand. "you will spend your time training, being interviewed, being tested, and kissing up to sponsors. unfortunately for you both, your first day has already started."

the windows of the train transitioned from dark to light, beams of sun flowing into the cabin. a huge body of water could be seen surrounding hundreds of high-rise buildings made with sleek designs and accompanied with phenomenal technology.

johanna eyed the two tributes with astonished looks on their face, curling her lips into a small smirk. "welcome to the capitol, bitches."

y/n stood next to a chariot, adjusting the corset on her body. she had just spent the last few hours being completely tortured, aka hours of waxing and plucking. if that wasn't enough, her stylist completely ridiculed her for having a puffy face after crying, embarrassing her in front of the whole prep team.

she had never wanted to go home so badly.

but here she was, dressed like a capitol darling in getup she could have never pictured herself in. a forest green corset was bound tightly around her waist, hugging the black long-sleeved bodysuit embroidered with gold leaves underneath. a matching black maxi skirt was wrapped right under the corset, with layers ruffled and seams sewed with gold thread.

thick, gold hoops hung from her ears and gold cuffs banded her wrists. her hair was combed and let down, decorated with a single gold barrette embellished with emeralds. her eyes flaunted deep, green eyeshadow shimmering with gold pearlescent glitter and long, curled and lengthened eyelashes. her lips were painted with a warm brown lipstick, matching the color of her nail polish.

y/n had never felt so out of place. she shifted her weight, feeling uneasy standing in such tall heels. how do people in the capitol dress like this everyday?

her eyes caught jay heading to the chariot, adjusting his own gold cuffs. his chest was covered with forest green armor, accented with gold leaves. his biceps were framed with a long-sleeve compression shirt, perfectly sculpting the curves of the muscles. black slacks accentuated his long legs, held on his waist by a black and gold belt. his hair was slicked back and his ears were cuffed with gold earrings. glittery green eyeliner bordered his eyes and his lips were plush and pink- wait, why was she looking at his lips?

y/n blinked. she couldn't believe how stylish (and incredibly attractive) her next door neighbor looked. the most they had seen each other in were the formal attire they wore for reaping day every year to look somewhat acceptable on public television. but now, now she understood why he was such a hot topic among the girls in her neighborhood.

jay's eyes met hers and he flashed a small smile, finishing his trek to the chariot. "you look amazing," he said, a few strands of gelled hair slipping out of place and framing his forehead.

"same goes for you," y/n breathed out, sending back a smile of her own.

they could hear a dramatic gasp and turned, spotting tiffany and johanna heading towards them. "my darlings, you look absolutely stunning!" tiffany squealed, clapping her hands as she walked.

"trees, trees, trees," johanna groaned. "that's all that damn stylist can do. get some fucking creativity, people!"

"johanna!" tiffany yelped, slapping the mentor on the shoulder. she faced the tributes once again, adorning a bubbly smile. "well, i think you both look absolutely wonderful."

"at least it's better than mine, i guess," johanna grumbled, crossing her arms. "now, today is all about beginning to attract some fans. act friendly, smile, and wave. don't do anything stupid and you'll be fine."

the static from a speaker could be heard as caesar flickerman appeared on a screen. "that's our cue to go!' tiffany exclaimed. "we'll see you later, darlings! and remember, smile!"

their escort and mentor left, following the crowd of other district team members. jay let out a soft sigh before saying, "it's time for us to get ready, then."

y/n hummed. jay stood next to the entrance of the chariot and held out a hand. "ladies first," he stated with a smile.

thump! y/n was glad she had a full face of makeup on to hide the heat spreading on her cheeks. she delicately took his hand, feeling her heartbeat increase as she stepped onto the chariot and held onto his gentle hand.

jay followed after her, accidentally brushing his shoulder against hers. she could feel the warmth radiating from his body due to their close proximity. her hands gripped the railing of the chariot, squeezing the metal tighter as she tried to not focus on the boy next to her.

the crowd outside began to grow louder as the first chariots were released. she could hear caesar flickerman from the screen, gushing with claudius templesmith about each of the tributes' stylistic costumes.

before she knew it, the horses in front of her began moving, pulling their chariot closer to the entrance. bright stage lights shone in y/n's eyes, blinding her for a second.

she felt jay place his right hand on her left, tapping her two times. "smile, y/n."

and so she did. y/n parted her lips to reveal the most dazzling smile she could, the sound of cheers filling her ears. but she missed the sweet smile jay gave her as her eyes adjusted to the new lighting.

the unsteady movement beneath her feet and the overwhelming amount of viewers caused her stomach to churn, but the hand on top of hers provided her a newfound source of comfort. she swiveled her head around, making sure to keep her bright smile plastered on her face.

the audience was full of people sporting vibrant garments and bizarre accessories. colored eyelashes the length of a hand, dyed hair in all sorts of purples and pinks, and puffy sleeves adorning shoulder after shoulder. it was beyond anything y/n could've imagined wearing, but here she was, standing in almost identical clothing while they observed her like a character in a game.

after all, that was all she was to them--a new addition to their cruel game that they watched eagerly every single year. to the ultra-wealthy, it was all fun and entertainment. but to her, it was a one-way ticket to her death.

she felt the smile on her face falter, gulping before stretching the corners of her lips wider. now was not the time to think about those things. she needed to attract sponsors to gain even a minute more of survival in the arena.

so she stood up straighter, flashing her most welcoming face that she could. the heat from the torches that they sped past only added to the adrenaline rush she felt running through her veins. her eyes flickered to the dual screens above the audience, catching the cameras filming their chariot.

she glanced at jay, who's smile was just as charming as ever. his jawline was firm and sharp, a charismatic feature that the capitol's cameras easily captured. his eyes shone with determination, a look that many could only find in the careers.

y/n felt a sense of pride in the moment. proud to have jay as her partner, proud to hear positive reactions from the audience, and proud to be from district 7.

the horses made a turn, slowing their pace down as they brought the chariot to a stop. a gust of air brushed past them as they left the heat of the runway, ending their time in the spotlight of the tribute parade.

y/n allowed her lips to relax, scanning the environment around her. the last few chariots were filing in, all carrying tributes dressed just as extravagantly as them. she watched as the sponsors in the audience screamed with energy, enjoying the last moments of the parade.

she could see the cameras pan to a podium above the tributes and turned to face it. there president snow stood, waving to the crowd with a small smile.

the audience grew quiet as he cleared his throat. "welcome. tributes, we welcome you," president snow announced. "we salute your courage and your sacrifice. and we wish you, happy hunger games! and may the odds be ever in your favor."

y/n felt her eye twitch at his words. before she knew it, the chariots began to move again, pulling all of the tributes out of the spotlight as the crowd cheered one last time.

in just a couple of more days, y/n had found herself on the last day of training.

johanna had taught her the differences between throwing knives and throwing axes, and so she had adjusted her training accordingly. she had quite a bit of trouble at the beginning, but eventually adapted to the new weapon quickly.

now, she was more determined than ever to try her hardest in the games, no matter what it took.

she practiced climbing structures and creating fires with jay. they talked more over identifying sources of water, studying types of infection, and spying on the other tributes. jay had taught her how to properly use a tactical axe and y/n had showed him how to aim weapons in long-range fights.

she learned that jay was talented at cooking and often tried new recipes for dinners on weekends. he informed her about the small pieces of etiquette he picked up on at formal business meetings at meals in their apartment. within just two days, she found herself closer than ever to her next door neighbor.

they shared secret smiles during training sessions, had late-night talks after hot showers, and gave each other words of encouragement every morning. he cut her steak for her at dinner, she wiped his sweat after training, and they held hands on the way to the basement of the training center, squeezing each other tightly as a way of supporting each other.

they had become close friends in such a short span of time, but they wouldn't tell each other about the deeper feelings that were brewing in their chests.

johanna slapped both of their backs as they stood in the elevator on the way to their private training sessions, where they would be officially scored by the gamemakers. "now, i would say act weak, but you two have showed off way too much during your training," she spoke, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

"so instead, go for something more average," she instructed. "like a seven. or a six. miss two shots but hit one. you won't get as many sponsors but at least you'll be off of some of the tributes' radars."

johanna sent both of them a small grin. "good luck to you two, and be as average as you can!"

her words caused both of the tributes to chuckle, exiting the elevator once the doors opened. "bye, johanna!" y/n called, waving to their mentor.

johanna just leaned against the glass windows of the elevator, shaking her head with a smile.

the two district 7 tributes entered the gymnasium's waiting room through automatic sliding doors, finding many other tributes already sitting inside. thick tension clouded the room, causing the small smiles on their faces to drop.

they were finally here on their last day of training, two days before the games would begin.

they sat down on stools labeled with their district's number, eyeing the other tributes warily. the careers sat with confidence in the front, cocky as ever with smirks on their faces. on the opposite end, the lower districts were hunched and fidgeting, anxious for the evaluation.

once again, y/n and jay stood in the middle, both figuratively and literally. y/n swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling a little parched. sure, she had trained long and hard to adapt to knife throwing, but her skills were definitely not on par with a career who had been throwing knives her whole life.

she glanced at the district 1 female tribute, who was giggling at something her partner had said. y/n had observed her throughout their training sessions, taking the time to understand her style of fighting and her precise aim. y/n wasn't unaware of her surroundings either, finding the tribute's gaze on her multiple times.

she fiddled with her fingers, suddenly feeling her hands grow clammy. "jay," she whispered, catching the boy's attention who responded with a soft hum. "do...do you think we can ever defeat the careers?"

jay glanced up, taking a quick look at them before replying, "well, they're not invincible, are they?"

y/n let out a soft chuckle at his words. "sure, they attended a special training academy and whatever, but we've played around with axes since we could hold a pencil," he continued, wrapping his arm around her and rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. "like johanna said, we just need to deceive them to win. after all, we might not need to fight them for them to die. a nasty ego is just as bad as a sword through the chest."

jay gave her one last pat on the shoulder before facing her. "don't underestimate yourself. you've worked hard and deserve to show off a little."

y/n smiled, gazing into his kind eyes. "thanks, jay," she said. "you deserve it, too."

he smiled back, staring straight into hers. they sat in a comfortable silence, neither of them breaking the eye contact. y/n was thankful that the room wasn't dead silent, otherwise everyone could hear how loudly her heart was thumping.

the warmth in his eyes, easing all of the tension in her body. the way his pupils dilated the longer he stared at her. the reflection of the light in his eyes, highlighting his soothing gaze.

for a moment, she swore that she saw jay's eyes flicker to her lips. but the sound of an alarm interrupted their silence, catching the attention of all the tributes.

"the private training sessions will begin now."

y/n let out a quick breath, seeing jay do the same in her peripheral vision. she squeezed her eyes shut, holding her head in her hands. how could she think about anything else other than the evaluations at hand?

but no matter how stressed her mind was, it couldn't stop the pounding in her chest. heat rose to her cheeks as she replayed the moment in her head, remembering the split second jay eyed her lips.

time flew by as her head ached, split between worrying about her private session and processing the feelings in her heart. she felt ashamed with herself--it had not been long since ethan broke up with her and she was confident that she still had feelings for him. so why was her heart fluttering around another man?

before she knew it, district 6's tributes had finished up and the waiting room was half empty. "district 7, y/n l/n," the electronic voice announced.

y/n stood up, stretching her limbs before heading towards the gymnasium entrance.

"hey y/n!" a voice called through the silence.

she turned around, looking at jay, who now had everyone's attention. "be average," he said with a grin, causing y/n to smile.

"you too," she replied, pointing at him.

she could hear him chuckle as she left through the sliding doors, taking one more deep breath before entering the gymnasium. the training room was cold, with little light illuminating the large area. she could hear the chatter of the gamemakers in a room above, observing their little festivities with food and drinks.

y/n walked to the marking in the center of the room, making sure to look at all of her surroundings. three targets shaped like humans were placed at a certain distance from her marked spot. to her left was a spread of different knives, all set neatly on a placemat and a table.

she turned around to face the gamemakers, who were enjoying their cocktails above. "y/n l/n, district 7," she introduced herself, catching the attention of the head gamemaker, seneca crane.

he swallowed his sip before nodding to her, prompting her to begin her chosen skill. she picked up a knife, gripping the wooden handle tightly.

she held her breath, focusing her eyes on the target and balancing herself. be average. she let her eyes lower before throwing the knife as powerfully as she could.

the thigh. not a critical area but definitely a shot that could cause lots of pain. she heard some pleased reactions and some mocking chuckles from the gamemakers.

y/n continued, grabbing a longer knife. she planted her feet, eyed her target, and threw the weapon.

the edge of the arm. another painful area, but not a critical one. definitely less impressive than her last shot. she heard more chuckles this time but didn't mind them.

she brushed her hands over the rest of the knives, taking the time to weigh her options. she decided on a thicker knife, with more weight and less speed.

she stood on the marking, once again. she took in a sharp breath, holding it as she positioned herself. eyes straight on the target, soles flat on the floor, and arm in the air, tensing with energy. she threw with all her might, a shout coming from her lips.

right smackdown in the heart. she huffed, staring at her work in disbelief. a few whistles and weak applause could be heard from the gamemakers as she faced them and bowed, taking her leave.

she was met with johanna and tiffany at the entrance of the district 7 apartment, who clapped loudly for her.

"that was wonderful, darling!" tiffany cheered, flaunting a hot pink tulle dress and matching accessories. "you did amazing!"

"great job on being mediocre, y/n," johanna commented with a chuckle. "that last shot was nice, though. definitely will bring you some sponsors."

"thanks, guys," y/n replied with a smile.

"come, come! jay's evaluation is playing," tiffany said, ushering y/n to the couch in front of the television screen.

she sat down on the soft cushion, shimmying a bit to get more comfortable with the skin-tight training clothing she was wearing. johanna stood behind her, resting her arms on the frame of the couch as tiffany elegantly sat down.

y/n could see jay on the screen with a tactical axe in hand. he swung the weapon around, hitting vital spots of the dummies surrounding him. the camera panned to the gamemakers, broadcasting their impressed faces as they discussed his skills.

he finished up by chucking his axe straight at a dummy’s head, the weapon slicing the head straight down the middle. jay took a moment to catch his breath before bowing in front of the gamemakers, ending district 7’s private training sessions.

y/n gulped. she knew jay was good, but the evaluations showed her a new side of him. one that was vicious, determined, and confident. there was no doubt that he would be a threat in the arena.

the television screen flickered off and tiffany stood up immediately, clapping her hands. “marvelous! just marvelous!” she gushed. “what talented tributes we have this year!”

“you should’ve seen the beginning, he purposely dropped the axe on a dummy’s foot,” johanna said with a light laugh. “i think he took my advice a little too seriously.”

y/n snickered at the comment, standing up from the couch. “he’ll be here any minute now!” tiffany exclaimed, rushing to the door to greet him.

as soon as y/n and johanna caught up to the escort, the door opened, revealing jay with a tired smile on his face. sweat stuck his loose hair to his forehead and his chest puffed with each breath he took.

“darling, you were outstanding!” tiffany squealed, patting him on the back. “just wonderful! the sponsors should be piling in as we speak!”

“nice job, jay,” johanna complimented. “i liked the part where you dropped the axe on the foot.”

jay chuckled, giving the mentor a playful glare. his eyes shifted to y/n, who was already smiling with pride.

“you did amazing, jay,” she said, causing him to grin.

“thanks, y/n. you did well, too.”

“now, wash up, children! i don’t want this apartment to be reeking of sweat!” tiffany ordered, prancing off to the kitchen. “and remember that they will broadcast the results this evening!”

after an afternoon of resting, a hearty dinner, and a lighthearted sunset watch, the district 7 team sat around the television screen, patiently waiting for their results. caesar flickerman held a rare serious expression on his face as he relayed all the information off of his cards.

the room was filled with a thick silence with everyone sitting perfectly still. the anticipation grew every minute as everyone watched eagerly, paying close attention to the other tributes' scores. per usual, the careers scored high, with the district 2 male scoring an eleven. y/n chewed on her bottom lip, the worry at the back of her mind beginning to grow.

there was less than 48 hours before she would be in the arena, fighting against each and every one of the tributes displayed on the screen.

once the district 6 tributes' results finished up, y/n could feel her heart beating unbelievably fast. it was the first time a test result could determine life or death for her, and the tension in her body came to an all-time high.

as caesar flickerman changed his cards, y/n felt a hand creep towards hers, gently intertwining their fingers. she turned to her left, spotting jay mouthing an "it's okay" to her. her chest heaved as she tried to calm herself down, forcing herself to breathe slower.

jay gave her a quick nod before facing the screen once again. "from district 7, y/n l/n..."

y/n whipped her head to the screen, not blinking once as the world stilled around her. she could feel herself squeeze jay's hand tighter, holding her breath for a single moment.

"...with a score of six."

she released the breath she was holding, relaxing her grip on jay's hand. she could feel johanna pat her shoulder in approval. "that was very average, y/n. an exact 50%."

a part of y/n was glad that she would be able to escape the careers' watch, but another part of her was worried about receiving little support from sponsors. but she chose to not fret about that as she flinched at how strongly jay held onto her hand.

she glanced at him, realizing that it was the first time she saw jay so visibly anxious. the typically calm and laid-back boy was now tense and nervous, a light sweat forming on his forehead. she could feel his palms grow clammy as he clutched her hand tighter, awaiting his results.

"and from district 7, jay park...with a score of eight."

cheers erupted from the room, a delightful squeal coming from tiffany. "jay, darling, you are spectacular!" she gushed, clasping her gloved hands together.

"great job, jay," johanna said with a nod. "but you'll have to be careful now. you're on par with the careers, which means that you've spiked their interest."

"nice job, jay!" y/n exclaimed, taking his hand into both of hers. he grinned and replied, "yours was good, too."

"well, all that's left for you two is to charm the audience tomorrow!" tiffany cheered, standing up. "rest well and wake up early! i will teach you all the interview etiquette you need to know!"

"and don't get too comfortable with each other!" johanna sternly teased. "you are on a survival show, not a dating show."

as they shared the final laughs of the night and prepared for bed, y/n couldn't help but ponder over her mentor's words. what johanna said rang true, even if it was intended to be a lighthearted joke. in the end, they were competitors in a game, even competition for each other.

she climbed into her bed, burying herself underneath the lush covers. she knew it was wrong for her to think about anything other than survival, especially when her inevitable death was approaching extremely fast. so why did her heart beat so fast when he touched her? why was she so unbelievably comfortable with someone she had just began considering a friend four days ago?

why was jay on her mind every night as she fell asleep, worrying about the games?

the eve of the hunger games. y/n stood in line, right behind the district 6 male tribute. she shifted her weight, watching the interviews commence from the screen backstage.

her stylist chose to dress her in a cream chiffon gown, the torso embellished with pearls and yellow topaz. her shoulder straps were loosely draped with layers of chiffon strung together. gold droplet earrings and a thin, double-layered gold necklace accented her ears and neckline. her hair was tied up elegantly, bound with matching gold ribbons. her eyeliner was drawn with gold glittery liquid, two yellow gemstones glued right underneath her lower eyelids. she shifted once more, balancing on her gold stilettos cuffed to her ankles.

the district 6 tribute in front of her peeked over her shoulder, throwing her a sultry grin. "looking good, seven," he commented, adjusting his black tie.

before y/n could respond with a snarky remark of her own, a hand was placed on her shoulder as she felt the heat from a body close to hers.

"i suggest you turn back around, six," the voice of jay, now sarcastic and brooding, spoke out. "your interview is starting."

as the slightly flustered tribute entered the stage, y/n faced jay, now realizing exactly how close they were. his face was mere centimeters from hers, a firm stare in his eyes.

unlike her, jay was clad in a sleek all-black suit, with gold cuffs and a gold handkerchief in his breast pocket. his hair was styled into a comma, eyebrows brushed and sleek, and ears adorned with multiple gold studs and loops. his eyes were painted with the same gold eyeliner as y/n and his fingers were wrapped with gold rings.

she could feel the heat from his breath, smell the subtle scent of his body wash, and hear the low beating of his heart. the hand on her exposed shoulder dropped, causing her to look up at him. he had taken a step back, repositioning himself in the line.

"you good?" he asked, a concerned expression on his face.

"yeah...i'm okay," she mumbled, turning back around.

she stood still, trying to calm the clamoring in her heart. she fanned herself with her hands, cooling down the heat spreading on her face. to others, it looked like she was flustered to be next on stage. but she knew that the fluttering in her stomach was for a completely different reason.

the audience applauded as the district 6 male finished up his interview, taking a large bow before leaving the stage. caesar flickerman laughed loudly and faced the cameras, microphone right underneath his chin.

"now, district 7, with gorgeous outfits for gorgeous tributes. let's hear it for y/n l/n, seventeen from the seventh district!"

y/n inhaled sharply before stepping into the spotlight, flashing a bright smile as she waved to the audience. the cheers grew louder with each step she took, shaking hands with caesar before sitting down in the interviewee's chair.

she sat with one leg crossed over the other and hands placed on her top knee, just like tiffany instructed her to. "welcome, y/n!" caesar exclaimed with a grin. "how are you liking the capitol?"

"it's very different from home, that's for sure," she responded with a light nod. "i have to say, the fashion here is quite extraordinary. never could i have imagined that i'd be wearing a ballroom gown, talking to a man with bright-red hair in front of the whole nation."

caesar paused for a moment, touching his said hair. "are you talking about me?"

"yes, i'm talking about you, caesar," y/n replied with a laugh.

the host let out a hearty chuckle, causing the audience to laugh along. "now, speaking of home," he continued, leaning towards the tribute. "is there anyone special back there? someone you're interested in? there has to be someone interested in you--who wouldn't fall for this stunning smile?"

y/n felt her smile falter as the audience cheered at the comment. caesar's question suddenly reminded her of the boy back at home, most likely watching the broadcast while he worked late hours to provide for his family. how could she forget? the day he ended their relationship, right before she got pulled into the games. she realized that the days she spent in the capitol were void of ethan, her mind completely focused on training and the day she was dreading.

and maybe a different boy, too.

but caesar's question caused her to swallow thickly, feeling guilty for forgetting about him. the boy she promised her heart to, the one who gave her his love seconds before they were ripped apart.

"well...uh..."

she found herself unable to think of a straight answer. "there...there's this boy..."

caesar hummed, egging her on. "he's the most wonderful person ever, kind and caring, a complete family man," she added, a smile forming as she thought about ethan. "he always prioritized others before himself. took care of his siblings when his parents couldn't. made sure to ask me if i ate even when he had no food."

but the smile didn't last long, soon dropping before she continued, "but we ended things before the reaping because he thought he was going to be reaped. he didn't want me hanging onto him if he died in the arena."

a dry chuckle escaped her lips. "but here i am, standing here instead of him. i guess things didn't turn out the way we expected them to."

caesar had a pitiful expression on his face as the audience cooed, some sniffling in the crowd. "i'm sorry about that," he said, placing his hand on top of hers. "i wish you the best of luck in the hunger games."

"thanks, caesar," y/n replied, shooting him a small smile.

"well, there we have it, ladies and gentlemen," the host concluded, helping her stand up. "from district 7, the brave and courageous y/n l/n!"

he raised her hand, letting y/n take in all the applause as the crowd stood and cheered. she left momentarily afterwards, welcoming herself into tiffany's arms backstage.

"darling, you did amazing," she said, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. y/n knew why tiffany was reacting this way but chose not to speak, appreciating the moment of comfort the escort provided her.

she escaped her arms, stepping closer to the screen backstage to watch jay's interview. he was already on stage, seated next to caesar with a charming smile.

"so jay, tell me, how is it that such an attractive man is sitting here right next to me? hm? do tell."

jay chuckled at the host's comment. "well, i'm just alright. but if you insist, i think it must be the brows."

"no need to be humble, jay. but are my red eyebrows as dashing as yours?" caesar questioned, raising his brows repeatedly. "if i'm being honest, i think mine are better." the audience howled with laughter, causing both jay and caesar to join with the crowd.

"now, tell me," the host continued. "do you have a special someone? our gorgeous district 7 tributes surely do not lack in the beauty department, do they folks?"

the audience cheered as a soft smile formed on jay's face. "look at him! jay park, with the jawline and the muscles! surely you had admirers back home, didn't you?"

jay chuckled again before speaking, "well, caesar, i wasn't really that desirable-"

"humble again," caesar interrupted by fake-whispering to the audience, inducing more laughter from the crowd.

"-but i did have my eyes on this girl from home," jay finished, piquing the host's interest. "oh! do tell."

"she's from the same neighborhood as me," jay added. "actually, we're next door neighbors."

the audience gasped with excitement and shock. but y/n froze, eyes never leaving the screen backstage. she knew that no one in the capitol knew they were next door neighbors--nobody except for y/n and jay themselves.

"i wish i could've talked to her more before i left, but i was reaped unexpectedly," jay said with a frown.

caesar matched the frown on the tribute's face. "well, you go out and win those games, and you tell her how you feel when you get home, okay?"

jay awkwardly smiled, responding with a small, "okay."

"ladies and gentlemen, the charismatic jay park from district 7!" caesar finished, triggering cheering and applause from the audience.

y/n watched as he exited the stage, approaching where she was standing with their team. tiffany immediately sauntered up to him, patting him on the back. "marvelous, darling! you answered so well!"

jay shot a weak smile at the escort before meeting y/n's eyes, already knowing that she figured it out. he quickly left backstage, heading towards the elevator to go to their apartment.

but y/n followed him, narrowly squeezing into the elevator just before its doors closed. jay gulped, avoiding her eyes as she stepped closer to him, leaning against the glass windows.

"jay," she began, softening her voice. "was...was that about-"

"yes."

he locked his gaze with hers, clenching his jaw tightly. "it was about you."

y/n's eyebrows furrowed, parting her lips to speak. "but-"

"i'm sorry that i feel this way and i completely understand if you don't feel the same," jay interrupted. "but nothing is going to change how i feel. i know that one of us will die, or maybe even both of us. but i can't help it."

the elevator dinged, its doors opening to the seventh floor. jay exited, followed by y/n, not turning around to look at her as he stopped at the entrance of their apartment. "i have feelings for you, y/n. and i know i shouldn't be having them when we're fighting against death in less than 24 hours."

"jay, wait-"

he opened their apartment door, immediately leaving her at the foyer as he made a beeline to his room. the loud slamming of his door echoed around the apartment, making an obvious statement to y/n.

y/n could barely force herself to sleep last night. with the hunger games dawning upon her and jay's words ringing in her ears, she spent most of her night tossing and turning under the covers.

but as she sat in the jet, transporting her to the arena with a tracker in her arm, she realized that the one event she dreaded most was finally happening. there was no turning back--the games were about to begin.

johanna led her to her tube in the launch room, brushing off her brown jacket seconds before the tributes had to be ready. y/n's hair was tied up away from her face, sporting a cropped vest of armor and black cargo pants under her long track jacket.

"remember, avoid being lured into the cornucopia but grab anything nearby," her mentor advised, straightening the collar of the jacket. "and find a source of water and food as early as possible. burn out all fires before it gets dark and make sure to hide well."

johanna paused, placing her hands on y/n's shoulders. "and please, stay alive. i believe in you."

y/n nodded. "thanks for everything, johanna."

the mentor smiled, a hint of uneasiness in her face. "they'll start the countdown soon. don't jump off the pedestal early, or they'll blow your guts out."

y/n stepped inside the launch tube, watching as the glass door swiveled around to a close. she felt the ground beneath her rise as johanna waved goodbye to her, causing y/n to smile sadly back.

she turned her head upwards, squinting her eyes as the dark space flooded with light. her tube stopped moving, locking into place as a burning heat overwhelmed her body. she scanned the arena, her heart beating faster than ever.

"the countdown begins now. 60..."

it was a ruined city. all rubble and dry concrete. the sunlight was pelting on them like a fire, breaking the tributes out into a sweat. a single pillar, chipped at some of the edges, was surrounded by backpacks and weapons alike. some of the supplies were spread out, varying in locations across the cornucopia.

"...45..."

y/n noticed a backpack a couple of meters away from her. she locked her eyes on it, planning to grab it before running.

"...30..."

she blinked harshly, the dryness of the heat getting to her eyes. she noticed jay several pedestals away from her, already looking at her.

"...20..."

her hands were already sweaty and shaking from both the anxiety and heat. but jay's eyes comforted her, slightly relaxing the stress in her body. it was as if all the tension from last night between them evaporated into thin air.

"...10..."

she felt her chest heaving, struggling to breathe from the rapid beating in her chest and the dust in the air.

"...9..."

she closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down.

"...8..."

she inhaled slowly and took her time to exhale.

"...7..."

she opened her eyes, adjusting her eyes to the bright sun again.

"...6..."

she eyed the backpack in front of her, feeling her heart racing even more.

"...5..."

she looked at jay, who was preparing to run.

"...4..."

he met her stare, their eyes locking with each other.

"...3..."

she mouthed a "stay alive."

"...2..."

he nodded as his lips said, "you too."

"...1..."

within the end of a second, the 73rd hunger games had begun.

taglist: @kpopstanmeg @kyunlov

315 notes · View notes

thecrabbybarista · 3 months

Text

I wanna do another one of these bc they're fun

Pls rb for sample size :3

#polls

75 notes · View notes

drippingviolets3 · 4 months

Text

Wrote a little story based on something I read at my grandma’s. Happy holidays you guys!

TW: Yandere(ish?) themes ahead, mentions of enslavement

Once upon a time…

….There was a King of a mighty kingdom, who had everything a man could ask for. Everything except a royal garden.

Instead of a luscious garden, the king had gray barren fields. Instead of flowers there were dried up weeds, and instead of trees to give shade from the beating waves of the sun, there were dead saplings that were barely given a chance to grow. The king had many royal gardeners, but none of them knew how to fix this predicament.

Gazing out from his balcony, the king saw no color. There was no smells of fresh fruit or flowers in the air to greet him, no leaves rustling or birds singing, only a pitiful wasteland. Ashamed, the king sought out advice from the butler who served him since he was but a boy himself.

The old and wise servant laughed a hearty laugh, and explained: “You wonder why your gardeners can’t grow anything? Nothing is wrong with the soil or the water my king, these men were raised by miners, blacksmiths, tailors and more, and their grandfathers worked these positions, and so on. What you need is someone who’s a gardener and who’s forefathers were gardeners too.”

The king now had a plan, and sent his men out on a mission to find a man who fit the requirements. The search was over no less then 40 days later.

The king had traveled across the land in his kingdom to meet this man, surely someone with a beautiful garden and bountiful harvest, only to find a humble cottage in the woods instead. Vines grew against the walls that sprouted tiny blossoms, bright red berries glowed across the hedges, and the flowers that bloomed almost looked as if they were staring right at the king to greet him!

When the king knocked, a man was quick to answer, his child, a young scrappy fellow, stood behind to peer past the door and stare at the king in wonder.

“Are you a gardener?” The king asked. The man nodded, and the king offered him a pleading hand. “Then you must come work for me!” The king exclaimed.

“But I’m simply too poor to afford such a trip.” The man shook his head. The king pressed on, saying “I’ll pay you handsomely for your work.” The man, still unsure, said “but we have no proper clothes, how could we represent you when we look so filthy?” The king was unbothered, saying “I’ll give you clothes of the finest silks for your work.” The man still wasn’t convinced. “But where shall we live? How will we get there?” The king was desperate, claiming: “I’ll house you and your child both, I’ll take you to my castle in my own carriage, please come and restore my garden!”

With an offer they couldn’t possibly refuse, the gardener and his child traveled to the castle and were immediately set to work. Together, the gardener family restored the garden within no time at all. Spellbound by the bedazzling colors of the flowers, the ripeness of the fruit, the king fired his old gardening staff and replaced them with the true gardeners on the spot.

This all came at a cost however. With only two sets of hands working, the gardener and his child were made to work nonstop to keep up the state of the garden. The child gained muscle and a tan from the sun blazing across their skin, and all that heavy lifting sculpted the pinnacle of peasantry beauty.

You, the heir to the throne, were intrigued by these seemingly magical gardeners, more so with the gardener’s child. Fast approaching your 18th birthday, the king decided it was time for you to be wed. You weren’t partial about who you married, so long as they were a decent man or woman, but that hope was crushed when the king said you were to marry the son of the prime minister, who was infamous of terrible spending habits and sleazy behavior with local bar maidens.

“How could you do this to me father?!” You had cried in disdain, in front of everyone gathered in the throne room. “He’s so sleazy, so spoiled, and so foolish that I’d be better off marrying the child of the gardener!”

The king was angered by your statement, bellowing out, “You would dare assimilate with that pig?! They may live in our palace, live off of the payment we give them, and wear clothes unbefitting of slob like them, but I will not give them my kingdom!”

Further infuriated by your father’s decision, you stood firm in your accusation of preferring to marry the gardener’s child instead of your selected husband. But your father, ever the tricky man he was, decided on a challenge.

The gardener’s and the prime minister’s children were gathered, as the king explained the challenge given. They were to travel across the land, across the sea to a neighboring country, and then back with a given horse and funds. The contest was rigged in the richer man’s favor, being given a strong stallion and a pouch full of jewels. But the gardener’s child was given a lame mule and only a handful of coins. They were to depart soon, but you couldn’t let the poorer of the two be left with barely a leg to stand on, so you grabbed multiple treasures from your bedroom and stored them in a purse. Pulling them aside, you whispered.

“Take this. I’m rooting for you.” You offered an encouraging smile and sent the gardener’s child off.

The prime minister’s son rode off over the hills, leaving a trail of dust in his wake while the gardener’s child traveled at a slower pace. Even with the distance grew between the racers, the gardener child held onto something more then just new treasures in a purse or the reins to a mule, they had hope for change. Good change.

The richer man came across a old woman on his travels, but paid her little mind.

“Please sir,” she begged “I only ask for a bit of coin for some food.” The man wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Bother me not you haggard woman! I’m on a journey and mustn’t dawdle!” He continued on his journey, riding like the wind.

The modest one ran into the same woman on the path, and like with the first man, she begged them for some money. They were certainly in no mood to fall behind, but the woman was so weak she could barely stand. Pity won over them, and they not only gifted the elderly woman the treasures given by you, but they allowed her to ride into the city with them.

The richer man had checked in to a fancy inn to spend the night in familiar luxuries, whereas the gardener child and old woman went to a more modest, bare-bone inn. They sat outside in the cool night air, and witnessed a large man run by on a white stallion that bore the sigil of a noble from the town.

The man proclaimed that the noble man was offering his treasures to the one who could heal his back. His physician failed, and he was immobile from the legs down. The one who could find a way to give him the gift to walk again could pick from a multitude of treasures-even enchanted artifacts.

The old woman nudged her companion. “You must partake in this, for that noble has a treasure that shall aid you on your journey.” When she saw their confusion, she continued. “He has a ring. It’s a copper ring, dirty and old and dented in a few spots, but it fits the wearer perfectly and has a hidden power; The ring can grant wishes, without a number limitation.”

Such a treasure was too good to be true, but the old woman lowered her voice to a whisper as she gave her savior the instructions needed.

“First, you must gather three animals; A russet red fox, a gray raccoon, and a brown sparrow. Kill them, skin them, then store their pelts in three bags that match their colors. Bring them to me and then we shall burn them to ash, but I will bring you a key ingredient you can’t find in the forest.”

Following the old woman’s instructions, they set off into the forest with a makeshift spear in hand. They struck down upon the fox first, then a raccoon, and finally a sparrow. Skinning the creatures took time, the sun was rising by the time they finished and had stored the pelts in the necessary bags. When they returned to the inn, the old woman had a mortar and pestle, and a pitcher of a calming blue liquid that smelled too sharp to be water.

With the old woman guiding their hands, the gardener’s child slowly poured in the liquid with the mixed fur and feathers, grinding them into a smooth paste. The old woman scooped it into a bottle, and handed it to her companion. “Take this to the noble man, spread it across his back, legs, and the underside of his feet.”

With their mission depending on the old woman’s wisdom, the gardener child left to find the noble’s home.

When he arrived they were suspicious at first, but allowed them to try out this paste and it’s properties. Spreading it from the back, down the legs, to the noble man’s feet, a magical link was formed that reformed the man’s spine and reconnected new power to his legs, making him as agile as a fox, sneaky like a raccoon, and move as feather light as a bird.

Overjoyed, he asked them “Which of my treasures would you prefer?” And the gardener child answered simply with “Your copper ring. The one that can grant wishes. I am to go on a journey, and I need all the support I can muster.”

Hesitant to let such a precious treasure go, but in debt to his savior, the noble man complied and presented him with the legendary treasure. To test it out, the gardener child turned to their mule and whispered their wish:

“I wish my mule lost its limp.”

The hind leg of the mule was surrounded with a swirl of golden glow, and once it was gone, the mule was walking perfectly, even leaping for joy as if it understood what transpired.

Thanking the noble man heavily, the gardener child ran with their mule, whispering another wish. They wished for wealth and noble clothing, and a large ship and crew. In the distance, he could see a large ship pull into the harbor, with the mantle made of silvers and the wood a golden shining wood.

On their way to the ship, they came across the prime minister’s son, who had already blown his money back at the inn. Not recognizing the shimmering noble as his rival, the man begged them for help, for a ship home and funds to last the trip.

They thought back to the beginning. How he sneered are them, how he was given the advantage for his family name alone, and it made their blood boil hot as hellfire. But the gardener child was sneaky, and agreed to the man’s begging, on the condition that he worked under them.

Desperate to win, the man agreed and was brought onto the gardener child’s ship. There, they burned the new insignia of the ring onto the man’s back, proof of his enslavement to the gardener child. It was only then that they wished for a ship, one that was shabbily made of driftwood and rags with a weak and sickly crew. They only gave the man a pocket full of gold, like the one they received in the beginning, and sent the man on his way.

Little did the man know, he was given a head start, and sailed back to the king’s land. He was the first to return, and much to your chagrin, won the challenge.

You were dressed to look heavenly, like an Angel descended onto the Earth. Hot angry tears of shame trickled down your cheeks, forced to walk down the aisle like a walk of shame. Eyes burned into your back but you dared not raise your head unless you wanted to topple like a abandoned tower. You knew the bastard was smirking, viewing you as the shiny trophy he rightfully won.

But the doors slammed open, and in came a finely dressed noble shouting to stop the wedding. Pointing to you, they claimed, “I am the one who shall be wed to them!”

“What?” The king asked. “But he’s the son of my prime minister!” Opening the gates to a new kind of hell, the pieces of their plan all fell into place.

“He cannot be! I found him groveling on the ground, begging for money! So I gave him a ship and crew befitting of a man like him!” They explained, leaving you and your father puzzled. Stepping outside, you could see the two vastly different ships in the distance, but one looked just about ready to sink, the one that had been there before the grander ship came into the picture.

“But he’s my son!” The prime minister exclaimed. “He can’t be a slave!”

The gardener child smirked, and you felt a sinkhole taking form down in your gut. Tearing off the man’s shirt, the insignia was revealed to all who were a witness, newly burnt flesh still recovering from the harsh conditions of the trip and lack of treatment it received. You felt sick, how could someone do this to a man? The man was a bastard but he never went as far as enslaving anyone!

The eyes of the gardener’s child, what once held warmth and delicacy, were now glazed over with possessiveness. Finally given a taste of the class that they worked under in envy, they were now ready to reap their rewards for this new achievement.

That was when the king got a good look at him, and realized far too late that this was the gardener’s child. They had rightfully deserved his child by the standards he set up as the king, looking like a true noble with the newfound greed oozing off of them.

With a heavy heart and uncertain future ahead, you were wed that day.

And the gardeners lived happily ever after.

#danganronpa #genshin impact #yandere danganronpa #yandere genshin impact #touch starved #yandere touch starved #does that tag exist yet? idk #hxh #hunter x hunter #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere fairy tail #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere demon slayer #multifandom #meant to be interpreted for any fandom and any characters #have fun reading!#happy holidays

57 notes · View notes

fantastic-nonsense · 1 year

Note

i've heard people talk about how two-face is an ideal arch nemesis for batman but i haven't heard that much about the penguin in that role and i'm interested to hear more if you wanna talk about it 👀?

okay so. tl;dr on why Ozzie is an excellent arch-nemesis and narrative foil for Batman and is one of the two Rogues (along with Two-Face) who should replace the Joker as Bruce's main villain: he is the evil Bruce Wayne. He is everything Bruce is, but bad. Tommy Elliot wishes he had the narrative foil-ism Penguin has over Bruce.

He and Bruce are both Old Money and part of the Five Founding Families of Gotham (The Waynes, the Kanes, the Arkhams, the Cobblepots, and the Elliots)

They both run very successful businesses: Bruce runs Wayne Enterprises and Oswald runs the Iceberg Lounge. Where Ozzie uses his business as a front for his criminal activities, Bruce uses his business to help fund his activities as Batman.

Bruce uses his obscene amount of money to help people in any way he can. Ozzie uses his to set up a business, get richer, and fund his own criminal activities (which are largely in service to no one but himself).

They both take up an animal theme for their personas, but for opposite reasons: Bruce becomes Batman to both reclaim his fear of bats and strike fear into the hearts of criminals, and Oswald becomes Penguin as an ode to the birds he's obsessed with and dresses like.

He's also emblematic of everything Bruce fights against and originally fought as Batman: he's a corrupt rich businessman who uses his wealth and power to exploit people and avoid accountability. He uses his money to throw parties for local politicians and auction off weapons and launder money and fuck over the little guy. And he gets away with it because he's rich and powerful and can utilize the illusion of respectable legality that his money affords him to stay out of trouble with the law.

There's a reason Bruce focused on the mob and organized crime during his early years as Batman, and it's because Gotham's core problem is and always will be corruption. That is ultimately why Batman is needed, why Bruce can't just solve the city's problems as Bruce with his philanthropy and social work: because the corruption entrenched into the very foundations of how the city and its justice system operates prevents long-term improvement. And who better to symbolize Gotham's corruption than an old rich white man masquerading around as a gentleman criminal?

#Bruce vs. Ozzie and Batman vs. Two-Face will always be the superior match-ups over Joker vs. Bruce in either capacity #anyway harvey and ozzie should be bruce's arch-nemeses and I am not taking questions at this time!#dc comics #bruce wayne #batman #oswald cobblepot #the penguin #harvey dent #two-face #(because he's mentioned)#asks #batman meta #bruce wayne meta

295 notes · View notes

the-doctor-3000 · 8 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 {The Witcher x F!Reader}

1: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 (pt. 1)

The chirping of birds woke the nineteen-year-old y/n up. She cracked her eyes open, having a difficulty to do so due to the light of the sun, and found herself laying in a forest. She sat up slowly, clenching the pendant that was hanging around her neck tightly and looked around in sheer confusion.

How did she even end up here? She was on a mission with her siblings. Knowing that it didn't include the woods. She quickly searched around for her stuff. She had her seraph blade, her stele was on her jacket's pocket along with a sensor and her witchlight stone. She stood up on her feet with a small stumble and continued to look at her surroundings confused.

The air was clearer, deprived of pollution. It was nice but scary too.

Where was she? Had she been teleported there and how?

Not expecting to get any answers from just standing there and staring, she walked her way out of the forest. Or at least tried to. No sign of a city but a small village. Too medieval-like for her own liking.

Hopefully the mundanes were just filming a movie with that theme. As she approached, her nostrils picked up some unpleasant smells which caused her to gag in disgust.

It smelled worse than a farm or litter boxes. She had been to villages before but none of them smelled like that.

She went pass a few locals, all of them dressed in medieval styled peasant clothing, and some gave her some odd looks while others minded their own business. Y/n's brows furrowed. She looked around, expecting to see some cameramen filming the entire thing or the staff.

She saw none.

What she did see was a cart, drawn by two piebald mares. She tilted her head to the side as she cautiously followed and examined the people on it.

Three. The driver. Nothing too unusual for the theme of the movie - if it was a movie; he was wearing sheepskin over his bare skin and his hair reached his brows. Next to him sat another man; that one was slim, he was wearing a fancy bonnet with a heron's feather decorating it. She noticed that he was holding a lute. A troubadour, she mentally noted.

Her eyes trailed to the man next to him. He was skinny, unhealthy pale and had milky loose hair. What she could make of his appearance from the far back was that he was a warrior of sorts.

She didn't know what but there was something about that man that piqued her interest. If her brothers were there they would be able to restrain her from going off to satisfy her curiosity. Her sister, though, would go along with her.

The white haired male spoke to the driver and he brought the horses to a halt. Y/n didn't know why but she felt like the white haired man could tell that she was following them.

Her suspicion was confirmed as he jumped out of the cart, daggers on each side and a steel sword on the back, and approached her.

She came to a halt as she gasped instinctively. His face. She had seen worse but there was something unsettling about him. His eyes were frightening and cat-like and there was something about him. . . Cold and threatening.

Her fingers tried to reach for her blades but he spoke. "Why are you following us?"

His voice was just as unsettling as the rest of his appearance. It was very unpleasant and hoarse. Y/n never had encountered anyone like him. She had seen things and yet this man made her feel afraid.

Why? She had killed demons, a man with a disturbing appearance should be nothing compared to her previous encounters.

He asked her again. More demanding but still calm. "Well?"

She flinched but finally found her voice. "I am sorry." She apologised and thought that the truth would be the best answer. "I am new around. . . . here and you three looked like an interesting bunch. Would it, ah, be alright to tag along until I find a way back?"

He seemed to think about it. His inhuman eyes stared into hers as if he were examining her. "Where are you from?"

"Manhattan, New York."

He arched a white brow. "Come again? Is this a new kind of joke?"

"Why would---? Listen, if you don't know where it is then just say so." She said, irritation building its way to her chest. "Don't have to act as if it doesn't exist."

"That's because it doesn't. Never heard of such place."

The seriousness in his tone made it difficult for y/n to tell whether he was messing with her or not. She crossed her arms over her torso, trying to keep a straight face and mask her worry. "Then where exactly am I?"

"Near Lower Posada, Dol Blathanna."

She barked a laugh. "Okay okay! That's creative but, for real, where am I?"

"Do I look like someone who is joking?"

Her hair went up like wires and a chill went down her spine. She croaked nervously, "Probably not."

There was a long silence between. The man's travelling companions were observing this interraction from afar, seeming quite interested to see how this would evolve. The bard was the most intrigued by it out of the two. Y/n avoided making eye contact with the man standing in front of her, her gaze was fixated on the medallion around his neck. It was made out of silver and had the shape of a wolf's head.

The longer she thought about it the more scared she became that maybe she was indeed in another universe and/or time period. Everything looked far too real, they smelled like it too, to be just a film production and the actors decided to mess with her.

Then it hit her. How could he, a mundane, see her? The glamour should have made it impossible unless, of course, he wasn't human himself but he didn't look like any of the Downworlders she had known of. The only distinct feature about him which only fit the warlocks' was his eyes, which were cat-like, but she could tell that he wasn't one. Mostly due to the fact that he was carrying weapons and, as far as she knew, warlocks needn't any of those. Not when they had their magic.

She gathered up some courage and spoke, "Do you---" She cut herself, thinking carefully of her next words and tried to make eye contact without flinching. Her mother and father always told her to stare someone in the eyes when speaking or else it would make her seem like a fool. "Is it alright to stay with you until I figure a way to return to my home? I promise that I won't get in the way of whatever it is that you are doing."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "And what is that you think I'm doing?"

Y/n shrugged. "Don't know and don't care. It's not my business either way as long as you don't cause any trouble that is."

"Hm."

He just hummed. No comment or any reply, just a hum. Y/n didn't know what to make of that guy but she followed him when he nodded for her to do so. They went to the cart and there was yet again an uneasy silence.

"I'm y/n Lightwood, by the way." She introduced herself to him, with a smile, hoping to at least learn his name. When he didn't respond, she quickly added. "Sorry if I crossed over any boundaries. It's just that people usually tell their names when they make an acquaintance." No response still. "So, ah, what's your name?"

"Geralt of Rivia."

"Geralt of Rivia." She tested his name, mispronouncing it completely, sounding like 'Jerald'. She noticed from the corner of her eye, his scarred eye twitching a little.

At least she got a reaction.

Not wanting to make things worse, she decided not to speak any further. When they reached the cart, the troubadour was the first one to acknowledge her.

"Ah! And who is your feminine friend, Geralt?" The bard asked, his cornflower blue eyes though were fixated on her.

He seemed pleasant, he looked like it too. His attitude so far was also friendly. She gave him a small smile, "I'm y/n. Y/n Lightwood."

As Geralt climbed on the cart, the bard hopped out. He took her hand and gingerly planted a kiss on the back of. "Charmed. I am Master Dandilion! A poet, a minstrel and a bard."

She chuckled, her cheeks flushing red a little. "Yeah, I got that. The lute gave it away."

"Would you be interested in hearing one of my ballads, my fair lady?"

An exasperated groan came from Geralt. Y/n was yet again curious but also bored.

"Music is the perfect way to pass the time while driving, so yeah!" She said with a warm smile gracing her features.

Dandilion beamed with joy.

She climbed the cart, Dandilion followed, and she was inbetween him and Geralt. The driver did not question her and continued. Y/n continued paying attention to Dandilion, too scared or uncomfortable to look at Geralt.

Disclaimer: I don't own the The Witcher nor the pictures/gifs, all credit goes to the original creators. This is a crossover between the Witcher and the Shadowhunter Chronicles. This will be based on the books and *not* the Netflix series and the story will be according to the books (though I'll add some scenes of my own and/or change some things in order for the mc to fit in the story).

This fanfiction will be also published on quotev.

123 notes · View notes

headfullofpresley · 7 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 7,1K

Series summary: Elvis has worked hard to become the successful adult movie director that he is today and all that hard work is paying off by how well the public reacts to his work and how much money is coming into his bank account, despite the fact that porn is still very much illegal. Working in the adult industry is not something you saw yourself doing despite coming from a place where it always has been out in the open, but you soon find yourself swept up and away by a certain American director and right into the heart of the porn industry. The only question that remains is... will you sink, or will you swim?

Chapter summary: Elvis shows you around on set and despite your doubts about the adult industry being the right place for you, you decide to be a big girl and take part in a scene. Things don't go too well all because of that pesky virginity of yours and the ever so charming director makes you an offer you can't (and won't) refuse.

Warnings: porn director!Elvis, AU, strong language, the porn industry, sexual innuendos and all that, reader is kind of eager to lose her V-card, smut; fingering, oral (f. receiving), vaginal penetration, unprotected sex.

A/N: hi hello! honestly, i'm not too proud of this chapter woooops and i just wanted to get the smut over and done with bc... i wanna get to the angst 👀- i have ideas for this series, y'all. it won't be a very long one the way i have it planned now but like i said before it'll have heavier themes in it and y'all already know i'm a sucker for angst. so i hope you guys will stick around until the end and i hope y'all still enjoy this chapter nonetheless! 💗

read chapter 1 here | want to be added to the taglist? just ask!

You’d never been on a movie set a day in your life.

While most of the movies that were playing in theaters in your country were imported all the way from the States, the Netherlands had some passionated local directors and actors as well. You belonged to neither groups and therefor, you had never set foot on a movie set.

Let alone an adult movie set.

The set Elvis had rented out for some of the indoor scenes was located ten minutes out of the city center. You recognized the abandoned factory from the outside and the state of it made an eerie feeling crawl up your spine. Maybe you shouldn’t have come here in the first place. Maybe this had all been a mistake.

But before you could turn yourself and your bike around and leave this crazy, impulsive idea of yours behind, you heard a heavy door open and slam shut again, followed by a booming, amused sounding man.

The American.

“You’re not leavin’ so soon, are ya?”

You clenched your steerring wheel in your hands and looked up at the raven haired man, suddenly were very aware of that you didn’t really know him. You were growing more nervous, though were still trying not to show it, but it was like this man was a goddamn mind reader – at least, when it came to you.

He saw right through you.

A cigarette dangling on the corner of his lower lip, he stepped forward to you (you didn’t miss how he only had to take three steps, because he was perfectly tall) and put his hands on the steerring wheel of your bike. As you looked up into his eyes, he looked down straight into yours – the playful grin that was settled on his face, making his eyes gleam with a hint of mischief, made your heart do a sommersault in your chest.

He really was gorgeous, yet that still didn’t take the nerves that were swirling through the pit of your stomach away. If anything, it only made you more nervous.

“Who said anything about leaving? I just need to put my bike somewhere,” you quickly said, trying to sound as playful as you could and not like you were a scared little bird.

Which honestly, you weren’t. You wouldn’t think of yourself that way- virgin or not, you truly couldn’t turn back now. While you hadn’t set foot inside the building yet, and technically could still get the hell out of dodge, your brain was telling you you were already in too deep.

Elvis nodded as he took a drag from his cigarette, that grin that made his eyes twinkle still planted on his face, and he watched you put your bike against the wall near the door he just came out of. He didn’t comment on the fact that you didn’t lock it or whatsoever and you had just made up an excuse on the whim, you were trying to leave, but he was glad you decided not to. Flicking his cigarette away, he blew out some smoke from the corner of his mouth and nodded his head toward the door as he strided over to it, pushing it open for you to go inside first.

You did and immediately you wanted to turn back around.

The old factory was as old and torn down on the inside as it was on the outside. Now maybe if you were a veteran pornstar, this would’ve been fine- you would have been a professional and would know what to do. But you weren’t and you were beginning to doubt if you were made for this kind of life.

Was this even something you wanted?

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” The director next to you spoke up as he noticed the way you were looking around as if you had just arrived in hell itself. The way your name rolled off his tongue so casually yet comforting had goosebumps rising on the back of your neck. “I ain’t gonna let you do anythin’ you don’t want, ya hear? ‘M just gonna show you around a little,”

You looked at him and although he looked like the kind of man that could get anyone to do anything he wanted to with a snap of his fingers, the little smile he was now giving you seemed sincere. Perhaps you were reading this stranger all wrong, but you trusted him.

It wasn’t like you had much to lose.

He held out his hand for you and you breathed out a deep sigh, laughing a little at the whole situation as you took his hand. He squeezed it softly as he laced your fingers together and gently tugged you further along inside the building, following the hushed voices that echoed through the big, grim space.

Camera’s and light equipments were planted in one corner, all facing and following the male actor that had a female co-star pressed against the wall, her skirt pulled up to her waist as he was pulling out soft, erotic moans from her as he had three fingers shoved inside of her.

The sight made your heart skip a beat- you didn’t know whether it was in excitement, or because you were still so goddamn nervous.

“I thought you lost the actress?” you whispered to Elvis who was still standing next to you, looking up at him. You had no idea how the film industry worked- but was he lying to you already? Why did he even offer you the position if there was a perfectly fine girl over there getting fingered?

And why in the hell did you accept?

Elvis looked away from the scene and grinned, his arms folded loosely against his chest as his blue eyes bored into yours. His voice sounded even deeper as he whispered back to you.

“I did. She’s just a stand-in,” he said, pointing to one of the camera’s. “See that? She’s only getting filmed from the waist down. I’m hopin’ that you’ll be the one on that camera soon enough,”

You stopped your eyes from widening and looked back at him, muffling a soft chuckle in the palm of your hand before you ran it through your hair. You looked around the set once more- even though the girl was just a stand-in, she looked like she was genuinely enjoying herself. Everyone seemed professional and completely focused on doing a good job on what they came here to do. Perhaps it was your virgin mind that was a little flushed at the sight before you, but part of you wanted this despite the nerves and doubts that lingered in the back of your mind too.

You wanted out of the usual routine of normal and dull life in Amsterdam. You wanted more than waiting tables and getting smacked on the ass by men that could’ve been your father or even grandfather.

You wanted more out of life.

And you were always determined to get what you wanted. Virginity and inexperience be damned.

“Well, I asked you before,” you grinned at him, spilling the words before you’d swallow them. “When do I start?”

Everyone Elvis worked with was very nice. They weren’t weird, oversexed maniacs like some people often made a crowd like this seem like. They were normal people that just happened to have a job that was slightly different from others to put bread on the table and get by.

They made you feel comfortable, as if you were among a big group of friends.

And before you knew it, you were put in a similar outfit the stand-in girl, which went by the name of Tiffany, was wearing before. The production was bigger than you expected because the make-up you had so carefully put on yourself this morning was wiped off and redone by a make-up lady who was taking advice from Elvis himself.

Apparently, he liked the lead actress to have a heavier, dark eye make-up look and when she was done and you saw yourself in the mirror, you almost didn’t recognize yourself.

You liked it.

Maybe this way, you could put your true self in the background and develop a new character in front of the camera. A character that was, according to Elvis, supposed to be innocent and naive and looking for the attention of the guy she was head over heels for, which would be Tommy, the lead actor, and would do anything to get it. You don’t even remember his character’s name, because everything was going so fast.

One minute you were standing around talking and getting familiar to Tommy, and the next you were in the same position you saw Tiffany in earlier on camera.

Back pressed against the wall, skirt up to your waist and Tommy’s hand slipping into your panties.

Now as he caressed his fingertips through your folds, you winced softly and Elvis immediately called to stop filming. Tommy took his head out of your neck and his hand out of your panties, keeping his voice low as if nobody else was allowed to hear this.

“You’re as dry as a cork,”

In any other situation, maybe you would’ve laughed at his comment, but right now you were mortified. You had touched yourself before, obviously, but you’d never experienced this before. When doing it yourself, you had no issues producing the much needed moisture. But it was as if your body was shutting down due to your nerves and when Elvis walked over to the two of you, you figured this would be the end of it.

He’d ‘fire’ you and you could go home and continue on with your boring ol’ life. And maybe that was for the best.

“What’s goin’ on, honey?” He asked as he placed a hand on the wall next to your head, Tommy standing on the other side of you. These two handsome men made you realize there would probably be plenty of girls, beginning actresses in the adult industry, that wanted to be in your spot. From what Tiffany told you as she helped you get into your little clothing that was needed for the scene, Tommy Sands was a big name in porn.

“Nothing! Nothing.. truly. I just need some time getting used to all the camera’s and stuff, I think,” you lied, flashing him the sweetest smile you could muster. You had no idea why you were trying so hard to make this work, or perhaps you did- not only were you stubborn by nature and always felt the need to prove yourself to mostly… yourself, you also knew you needed money.

You were without a job and you still had an apartment to pay rent for every month.

Elvis squinted his eyes a little at you, as if he could see right through you. If he did, he didn’t comment on it.

“Best thing to do is to just relax and pretend the camera’s ain’t here. It’s just you and Tommy,” he smiled at you and you looked at Tommy, who was wearing the same friendly smile as he nodded his head. Elvis continued when you looked back at him. “Think you can do that?”

You inhaled a sharp breath of air and nodded, not knowing if you actually could, but you had to try. Elvis grinned and very softly pinched your cheek. “Atta girl,” with that, he turned around and walked back to his spot next to the camera man.

Your heart was leaping pathetically in your chest and it wasn’t because Tommy Sands’ lips were back in your neck.

Brown eyes, sandy blonde hair, plumb pink lips and a perfectly gorgeous Colgate smile- Tommy Sands sure was a looker.

You figured if he wouldn’t be in porn, he could easily be the kind of idol nations worldwide swooned over. Yet, he wasn’t doing much for you.

The lube that was there to help you along with the scene only did the trick for a few minutes but every time Tommy’s long fingers were prodding at your entrance, you panicked and Elvis roared out a “cut!”. You were stressing yourself out, thinking that Elvis was annoyed at you for being what you figured was difficult, but he just assured you with that sweet smile and those twinkling blue eyes every time.

You wished he could take Tommy’s place.

Still, you didn’t give up and finally, with enough lube to last a lifetime, Tommy managed to slip one finger inside of you. You were supposed to moan for the camera as if you were thoroughly enjoying this, but truth was, it felt uncomfortable. And it was showing.

Elvis stopped filming once more and Tommy walked away to the side to bum a cigarette off of someone.

“I’m so sorry, Elvis. I didn’t know this would happen, but I’m sure if we try it again, I’ll be fine and-“

“Honey, did’ya ever do this before?”

“Having sex in front of a camera?”

“No, not that. Jus’ having sex.” With that infamous grin on his face, he looked down at you as if he caught you right in the middle of the act.

Which he had. You were busted, but you wouldn’t go down so easily.

You snorted as you folded your arms, letting out a soft playful scoff to add to your theatrics. “What? Ofcourse I have. I had sex plenty of times with plenty of people,”

Elvis knew that wasn’t true. He’d been in this industry long enough to know that you’d never been touched by a man in your entire life and while that wasn’t a problem for him, he knew losing your virginity on camera wasn’t an ideal situation. And despite the lead character’s innocent-like personality, he did not want this for you.

Leaning in a little closer to you, he looked into your eyes and trapped you against the wall as his hand once more came up to be placed against the concrete next to your head. “Y/N, listen to me,” he whispered lowly, the seriousness in his voice making your heart go wild against your ribcage. “Ain’t nothing wrong with being a virgin, I still want you as my lead actress, but I jus’ wish you would’ve told me. I told you when you got here that I don’t want you doin’ nothing you don’t want and I don’t believe you’d want to pop your cherry in a movie for the whole world to see. I don’t want that for you.”

You bit your tongue as you looked up at him, not even realizing you were holding your breath until it came out in a deep sigh and a breathless laugh. You felt a little foolish.

“You’re right, I should’ve told you,” you agreed, pulling your skirt down. “I guess that sums up my porn career,”

He laughed and shook his head a little, putting his knuckles on his hips as he was still hovering over you. “Didn’t ya hear what I jus’ said? I still want you in this movie. You ain’t goin’ anywhere,”

He didn’t know what it was about you, but he was intrigued and he found himself unable to let you walk out of here. You had been so sassy and confident when he first met you at the café but he knew that was only because you needed to survive in that God awful place. Something told him that deep down inside, there was a girl hidden that had so much to offer to the world and he had decided right then and there that it was his duty to help you.

He wanted to give you the world and he wanted to give the world you.

“I know a lot of people can fake an orgasm, but virginity is not something you can easily hide in a movie like this, Elvis,” you pointed out sarcastically, though he could see by the little grin on your face that the comment was still lighthearted.

“You got that right, honey, but it is something I can help you with,”

The words came out before he could stop himself. Elvis Presley never slept with an actress, no matter how many offers he had gotten. He was purely professional and it was also because he didn’t like the fact that he had seen them get fucked on camera and then had to do the fucking himself. But with you, he found himself thinking what it would be like to be in Tommy’s shoes.

How it would feel like to pop that little cherry of yours.

And you… well, you agreed.

To you, your virginity was only a nuisance. It was stopping you from making the money you needed and living the life you wanted to life. You wanted to get rid off this pesky little thing and if such a fine looking man like Director Presley was offering himself up for the job, you’d be a fool to turn him down.

So you didn’t.

“I guess if it has to happen, it’s now or never. Besides, you’re not such a bad candidate,”

Elvis laughed at your comment, rolling his eyes as he gently bumped your chin with his knuckles.

“You got that right, kid,”

He was a perfect gentleman though- you spend the rest of the afternoon talking on the balcony of his hotel room, enjoying some last rays of sun before the moon would take its place. Elvis told you about his life and you told him about yours. You trusted this silly American for whatever reason and it just felt right. You learned how passionate Elvis was about his work and that he wasn’t just in it to see people screw on camera- he was a storyteller and he assured you that the sex scenes in his movies weren’t just two people going at it like rabbits. There were emotions in there, there was a story to be told. This was one of the things that made him so big in the industry, because his movies didn’t only cater to men. It drew women in just as much; because it captured women in a light that told the public, “Look here, women like to have sex. They love to make love and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

Filming was cut short for the rest of the day, which the crew and cast were happy about as they all went back to their hotel to get ready and explore more of Amsterdam. You were being swooped away by Elvis to his hotel and although the topic of him taking your virginity wasn’t spoken about between the two of you anymore, you knew it was lingering on the horizon.

Sure, it got backlash from the male viewers sometimes too, as they’d complain scenes would be too “soft”, but Elvis didn’t give a damn.

He was happy with his work, and so were plenty of other people that praised him for it.

In return to Elvis’ honesty and pretty much life story, you told him yours which was far less interesting. You were alone in the big city because your parents passed when you were younger- you were raised by an aunt in a neighboring small town but as soon as you started working and saved up enough money, you went back to Amsterdam and started a life of your own. Or at least, you tried to. Jobs were hard to come by these days but you ‘lucked’ out and got hired at the café, which made just enough to afford rent. By no means were you living a luxury life or even a comfortable one at that because you were working until your feet were numb only to make ends meet. And then Elvis Presley wandered in, promising you the life of luxury you’d daydream about and offering you to let your pretty little feet rest.

Perhaps there was a reason you and him met, after all.

As the sun went down, Elvis ordered room service while you took a shower and washed off the make-up that you were still wearing from the shoot. Not bothered by your bare face, you walked back into the spacious bedroom after drying your hair and putting it up in a high ponytail, towel wrapped around your body.

Elvis looked up as he sat on the edge of the bed, raising an eyebrow as he took a deep, long drag from his cigarette. His oceanic eyes followed your every move as you walked closer to him, taking him by surprise when you slowly dropped the towel to a puddle by your feet- he did his damnest to hide that surprise though and a grin curled the corner of his mouth instead.

“You don’t wanna eat first?”

You shook your head as you took one more step forward, standing in between his slightly parted legs. Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, you took a drag from it and Elvis watched you for several seconds before his hands settled on your hips.

Above all, he was a man. And here you were, standing right in front of his nose butt naked. No way in hell he wasn’t going to respond.

No words had to be spoken as he ran his hands up your sides, making you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling. You quickly discarded the cigarette in the ash tray on the bedside table before you put your hands on his shoulders, while his hands were moving to gently cup your breasts. He looked up at you and as soon as you looked down at him and gave him a little smile, he took it as consent and suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer as his mouth was latched onto your breasts right that second.

He kissed them gently but there was a certain kind of determination hidden in his actions and you felt it as he swirled his tongue around one of your nipples, teeth sinking into the sensitive bud very lightly. Your body reacted instantly and where you had lacked in arousal earlier today, you were sure that wouldn’t be an issue tonight.

Not with this man.

He groaned softly against your skin as he felt your nails running through his hair, caressing along his scalp, and just like yours, his body responded. Before you knew it, he had you on your back on the soft, luscious bed. Your heart was hammering in your chest as his marshmallow lips were kissing their way down your stomach and to your inner thighs, being everywhere except the spot you wanted them most.

The whole ordeal barely started and you didn’t have anything or anyone to compared it to, but you already felt like you were in Heaven.

The small gasp that came from you as he slipped his fingers through your folds caused Elvis to grin and he propped one elbow in the mattress as he was laying on his stomach, face hovering above your pussy, looking up at you. He held his fingertips up, spreading them to show you the string of slick that was connecting to the two digits.

“Maybe Tommy just wasn’t doin’ it for ya, huh?” He smirked and you bit your lip as you watched him pop his fingers into his mouth, sucking your wetness off of them. A whole new wave of arousal washed over you and Elvis could see it in your eyes. Even if you had a response ready for him, he didn’t give you time to give it because as soon as he leaned his head down and you felt his tongue lick through your folds, flicking against your clit, a moan that you didn’t know you were holding in filled the room.

Tommy Sands was the last damn person on your mind- the only one you could think about was the raven haired director with the gorgeous blue eyes that was currently giving you the heavenly experience of being eaten out.

And he was good at it- damn, was he good. He knew just the right thing to do. He definitely used those pillowy, soft lips to his advantage and it worked wonders on all of your senses that were on high alert.

His arms came around your thighs to hold them spread, his long lashes caressing his cheekbones as his eyes were closed while he was moaning lowly right into your folds, sending a vibrating tingle through your bones. You could barely keep still, arching your back and hiding your face as you put your arms over it. You didn’t know what you were hiding from, you didn’t know why you were trying to get away from him when the feeling got a little too intense sometimes, but the man in between your legs wasn’t having it.

He pulled you right back, closer to his face again, and put his arm across your lower abdomen to trap you against the bed. You could feel him smirking as he looked up at you while his tongue was slithering through your slick before it flicked against your clit at an ungodly speed. You propped your elbows into the bed and looked down at him, moaning and squealing as if you had lost all control of your own body. You found yourself simply unable to keep quiet and Elvis encouraged this by moving his hand that was on your thigh lower to prod a finger at your entrance.

He could feel you tense up immediately and he pulled his head back in his neck a little, licking his lips.

“Relax, honey,” he whispered with a deep, raspy voice, sweet smile planted on his face. “Ain’t nothin’ to it. Just gotta prepare you for somethin’ bigger,”

The thought of that something bigger was already making you want to jump out of your skin, in the best way possible.

You watched as Elvis planted a soft kiss on your inner thigh as his other hand came down across your lower abdomen to let his thumb rub your clit, very slowly and gently. He collected some of your slick on the middle finger of his other hand and looked up at you as he slowly pushes it inside of you. The feeling was foreign and strange, but it didn’t make you nor was it as uncomfortable as earlier today when Tommy tried it. You didn’t know whether that was because of Tommy himself, the camera’s, the fact that you had never experienced it before or all things at once, but right now you couldn’t get yourself to worry about it. Because Elvis had managed to easily snuck in a finger knuckle deep and when he pulled it back until the tip of his finger lingered inside of you before pushing it back in all the way, something of a gasp and moan combined tore through your throat. You willingly spread your legs further as he slowly fingered you, getting you ready for what was to come, and he grinned.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised as he shot you a wink, which made you grip onto the sheets as your elbows were still pressed into the mattress, keeping yourself up because you wouldn’t miss a sight like this for the world.

Elvis’ finger started to pick up pace after a little while and when he was distracting you by switching between sucking on your clit and rolling his tongue against it in waves, he added another finger. You threw your head back as you arched your back a little and squealed softly as your toes curled- it was like your walls molded perfectly around his digits the longer he kept them inside of you and you had grown used to the feeling of his fingers pleasuring the hell out of you.

When he fingered you at a steady but comfortable pace, his tongue still latched onto your clit, you knew your orgasm was nearing. The only person who ever made you cum was you but you quickly realized that when it was done by a man, a man who knew what he was doing, it felt so much more intense. And so, so much better.

“Elvis!” you squealed as you reached a hand out to tangle your fingers in his hair, your hips trying to move along to the rhythm of his fingers which turned out to be rather difficult because his large hand was placed on your lower abdomen to keep you down. “I’m g-gonna.. gonna.. c-cum- oh fuck!”

He grinned smugly right against your clit but his actions never faltered. He didn’t pull back from your clit until you moaned loudly and he felt your muscles clenching visciously around his fingers and your thighs tremble. He pushed his two fingers inside of you, keeping them there for a bit as he looked at your facial expressions- now that was a sight he didn’t want to miss. As your hand came out of his hair and down the side of his face, he kissed the palm of your hand and grinned, slowly pulling his fingers out of you before he once more licked them clean.

“Startin’ to think I gotta change the cast of the movie to jus’ you and me,” he joked as he licked his lips and crawled up to hover above you. The necklace he wore with a large silver cross attached to the chain dangled in your face and you let out a breathless laugh, looking up at him with stars in your eyes.

Although, they might as well be hearts.

“If you want to capture a true, authentic female orgasm on film, you might as well,” you mused, catching the cross between your thumb and index finger as it swung back and forth. You looked at the diamonds adorning the piece of jewelry and ran your thumb across it, looking back at him with a smile. Elvis grinned and leaned down, softly pressing his lips against yours.

As he slipped his tongue inside your mouth, you could taste yourself and it only made you want him more. Just as you let go off the cross pendant and moved your fingers to the buttons of his shirt, there was a loud knock on the door and a voice announcing room service had arrived. You told them in Dutch to leave it at the door and Elvis raised an eyebrow at you as he laughed when he heard the person on the other side of the door walking away.

The last thing on your mind was food and if you were feeling any kind of hunger, it was for the man above you.

And it seemed Elvis felt the exact same way.

Within the span of seconds, Elvis’ shirt was flung across the room by your doing and you had never seen a man pull down his slacks as fast as you saw the director doing it now. You realised he wasn’t wearing any underwear at all and the sight of his cock springing free in all its glory for you to admire caused a wildfire to spread throughout your chest. You’d never been this turned on in your life, but at the same time your nerves were slowly but surely crawling their way back into your veins. As Elvis situated himself in between your legs, letting the weight of his cock resr against your folds and placing his hands on either side of your head, he could see the realisation of the situation in your eyes.

“Sure ya wanna do this, honey?” He whispered as he pressed a kiss on the corner of your mouth, the feeling of your hands gripping onto his upper arms sending a shiver down his spine, as well as the feeling of both your intimate parts connecting this way. “I don’t want ya doing any-“

“I’m sure,” you interrupted him, your voice coming out breathless already. Just the feeling of him being this close to you was already making you nearly lose your mind. You realised that losing your virginity was not something you just did and although you wanted to get rid of it, you’d always imagined it to be with someone you were actually in a relationship with. Someone you actually knew inside and out, but then again, your life never went the way you planned it.

And as you saw Elvis smile down at you as he placed one of his hands on the side of your face, his thumb caressing your cheekbone, you figured this wasn’t such a bad deal. Perhaps it wasn’t the way you imagined it, but maybe it was going to turn out even better.

You weren’t in a relationship with him, but for some reason you felt there was some sort of emotional connection. Whether it was a platonic or love connection, you hadn’t figured that out yet, you wanted this with him. They say you'll never forget your first time and as you looked up into his eyes when he gently caressed the tip of his cock through your folds and over your clit, you doubted the possibility of forgetting Elvis Presley even existed.

“Jus’ hold onto me,” he whispered as you gasped when he circled the tip of his cock against your clit, your nails softly digging into his flesh as you were still holding onto his arms. “I’ll be real gentle,”

You nodded your head, looking up at him in awe and not bothered one second by his necklace that once more softly swung against your chin. Elvis moved his hand down to wrap it around his length, situating himself at your entrance- looking back up at you, he couldn’t stop the small grin from breaking through on his features. The fact that you were digging your nails in deeper didn’t bother him and he slowly pushed inside of you, taking all the time you needed for him to bottom out and when he finally did, that grin was wiped right off his face.

The way you were so incredibly tight around him had him curse under his breath and he placed his forearms next to your head, fingertips caressing through your hair as he put a little more weight on you. He looked down into your eyes as he gasped softly, gently pressing his forehead against yours as you squeezed your eyes shut. He could feel your walls fluttering around him repeatedly and your thighs trembling as you had them wrapped around his waist. He shushed you softly, trying to distract you from the sting by planting soft, open mouthed kisses all over your face.

“Relax, baby, relax,” he cooed. “Ain’t gonna feel good if you don’t.”

You opened your eyes to look at him again and when he noticed a stray tear roll down your cheek, he quickly wiped it away as he frowned in concern. Worry filled his chest.

“Shit- I didn’t mean to cry,” you quickly turned your head and wiped some more tears that you couldn’t hold back away. You felt like an absolute idiot- when you first met Elvis, you had seemed so confident and like you knew what you were doing, but here you were, crying about losing your virginity.

Compared to a man like him, you suddenly felt small.

Inexperienced.

Which was the truth, but still- you hated this feeling.

“Hey, hey,” he gently grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger, turning your head back to look at him. He smiled down at you and pecked your lips. “'S okay to cry, Y/N. This ain’t nothin’, just… as long as you tell me if it hurts or if ya wanna stop, alright?”

You let out a little laugh as you wiped a last tear away and nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He leaned down more and hid his face in your neck as his fingers were back in your hair to soothingly caress your scalp while whispering sweet nothings in your ear. As you gave him the green light to move, he pulled his face out of your neck as he pulled his hips back as well, slowly thrusting forward. You gasped as you held onto him for dear life, the sting was still very much there but the longer he was thrusting into you, the more the pain turned into pleasure.

Slowly but surely your body was starting to relax underneath him and he was pulling more and more moans out of you that didn’t sound so panicky anymore. You were starting to enjoy yourself and obviously, this didn’t go unnoticed by Elvis.

Raising himself a little by putting his flat hands next to your head on the pillow again, his thrusts gained pace as low grunts rolled off his tongue, a grin curling back on his face.

“Feel good now, baby?”

You bit your lip as you looked at him, your eyes a little more sultry this time as your ankles hooked together behind his back, nodding frantically. You were unable to keep yourself quiet just like you experienced when he was eating you out and you didn’t even care if the people in the neighboring rooms heard you.

“Y-Yes! God, Elvis- it feels s-so good,” you groaned, your mind spinning with the sound of his skin connecting to yours as he thrusted into you, the melody of his deep moans and grunts being one that you wanted to play over and over again. He smirked and crashed his lips against yours, kissing you hungrily as one hand came down to grab onto your thigh. As he rolled you around and you were suddenly on top of him, you looked down at him and admired the way his raven hair was messy and adorable, yet still so manly at the same time.

The cross pendant attached to the long necklace was resting on his chest which you found yourself obsessed with to run your hands up on, feeling his chest hair tickle under your fingertips. He grabbed onto your hips and slowly made you move onto him- all you knew to do was follow your instinct. He had no complaints as you kept your hands placed on his chest while thrusting yourself onto him, picking up the pace every few seconds. Elvis’ moans got a little louder and he moved his hands up, squeezing your breasts in his big hands.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he smirked as he sunk his teeth into his lower lip and moved his hands back to your hips to guide your moves again, licking his lips at the sight of your breasts bouncing along with your thrusts. He made you go even faster, knowing that you were feeling the same kind of pleasure as him because of the sound of your moans. “There’s a little fire cracker hidden inside ya, ain’t there?”

You laughed softly as you grabbed onto his forearms, throwing your head back as you moaned while concentrating on moving your hips which was a lot easier because he was helping you with it. Perhaps he was right and your wild side was awakened, but you figured that was exactly what was needed. For your future career, and all.

Your second orgasm was even more intense than the first one. Elvis had sat up and wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you pressed tightly against his chest as you went through it- you nearly choked him out as your arms were wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled firmly in his locks. He grunted in your neck as your thighs trembled and your muscles clenched around him so tight that it had him spilling over the edge as well. Before he did, he quickly lifted you off of him and playfully threw you on the bed which made you squeal softly, sitting on his knees as he quickly jerked himself off the rest of the way, spurts of warm seed landing on your lower abdomen. You were still moaning despite the fact that he wasn’t even inside of you anymore, riding high on the post orgasm bliss. Elvis groaned lowly as his hips stuttered forward in his fist a few times before he let himself fall down on the bed next to you, both of you easily and comfortably slipping in the afterglow portion of things as you looked up at the ceiling, catching your breath.

“God, I need a cigarette after that,” you breathed out, laughing as you pushed some loose strands of hair out of your face, your ponytail an absolute mess right now.

Elvis thought it looked adorable.

“You and me both, kid,” he chuckled, slowly sitting up and swiping his pack of cigarettes from the bedside table, putting two in his mouth at the same time. He lit them and handed one to you, which you gratefully took before you took a long drag from it. You exhaled the smoke up to the ceiling and then turned your head to look at him as he laid on his side next to you, leaning his head in the palm of his hand. “How was it?”

“It was… amazing,” you grinned at him, rolling onto your side as well to have a better look at him. You rolled the cigarette that was in between your fingers along the rim of the glass ash tray that he put in between you before taking another drag. “I guess losing my virginity to a porn director is one for the books,”

He laughed at the grin on your face and blew out some smoke, shaking his head a little at the way your playful nature was showing once again. He liked that about you.

“As long as you credit me for giving you your first and second orgasm in your little book, all’s fine with me,” he joked back as he shot you a wink and kissed your cheek before rolling onto his back and taking a long drag from his cigarette. You laughed and nodded- obviously it was all jokes. There wasn’t going to be any book, ever.

Your life simply wasn’t interesting enough for that. Neither did you figure it ever would be.

“How about that room service?” He asked as he killed his cigarette in the ash tray when he smoked most of it. Before he could get up, you stopped him and got up from the bed. Fishing his shirt from the floor, you put it on and grinned at him.

“I’ll get it,”

“Atta girl,” he smirked as he playfully smacked your butt before you walked over to the door.

The thought of stepping out of a world where your butt was smacked on the daily and stepping into another one where the same thing was happening made you giggle.

The universe surely bends you in funny ways, but you’d take that kind of attention from Elvis Presley over any other man any day.

taglist: @notstefaniepresley @powerofelvis @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @ellie-24 @dollksj @webbedwebs @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @ccab @whatstruthgottodowithit @dkayfixates @lettersfromvenus @elvisalltheway101 @that-hotdog @robinismywife @jaqueline19997 @raginginkedslut @joshuntildawn13

125 notes · View notes

jayphoenic · 10 months

Text

Marvel x MLB x DC Crossovers Prompts/Fics Recommendaitons

// Day 9 // Marvel Crossover // by @chloe-bourgeois-is-big-gay

Ladybug groaned, “Who attacks a convention full of superheroes?! That’s asking to get beat up!”

Red Robin agreed, “I know! Who are they fooling?”

Chat and Spider-man exchanged a look, “Continue your flirting after the attack, maybe? Just a thought.”

“We’re not flirting!”

Spider Vs Bird by @unmaskedagain

The two boys eyed each other.

Marinette looked confused, “Damian I told you about Peter, right? I talked about him all the time. And the same for Damian, Peter.”

“You didn’t mention he was Peter Stark,” Damian stated.

“Peter Stark-Rogers,” Peter corrected. “And you’re Damian Wayne.”

Spider V Bat by @cornholio4

“You can do so much better than the stupid insect here; trust me when I say Parker is not your time!” Damian said coldly and this caused everyone to pause. Did Damian know Peter already?

“I can understand liking Marinette but she is my girlfriend so you can please back off.” Peter said protectively having heard of Marinette’s encounter with Damian before from her in the emails and video chats they had.

They Answered by @sturchling

This doesn't actually have a title

Batman fumed at seeing the other group of heroes allowed to be in the city while they were being forced out. “Why are we not allowed here, but they are!? They aren’t local heroes.” The girl in a Ladybug themed costume stepped forward through the crowd, “They get to be here because they actually answered our call for help and were instrumental in the defeat of Hawkmoth. They arrived before the ban, followed my team’s lead, and respected the wishes of my team as well as the city. They proved to be good allies. You and your group on the other hand, ignored and denied our requests and now want to come in and do damage control. Now you leave, or we will make you.”

98 notes · View notes

hmshermitcraft · 3 months

Note

For the weeks theme- ghosts! I think….idk just take this

Grian and Mumbo WERE once dating, an inseparable pair. They met at a coffee shop, which Mumbo worked at at the time to pay for his engineering school, his parents not helping him and shutting him out after he disagreed to have arranged marriage with one of his parents friends daughter. Grian kept on visiting that coffee shop, every single day. He developed a crush on the man, but was too shy at the time to do anything. Before then, Grian’s sister, Pearlescentmoon, finally encouraged him to do something before it was too late, and Grian slipped Mumbo a note taped onto a dollar with his number on it.

The pair’s first date was at a lovely restaurant that bordered a lake. It was Mumbo’s very first date, since his parents never allowed him to date anyone, since they already planned for him to marry someone. He was anxious and fiddled with his hands the whole entire time, and slightly overdressed. This made Grian just adore him more. After dinner, the two walked along the lakeshore and promised they would meet again sometime soon.

They dated for 1 more year, but Mumbo had already known he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Grian—the way he talked, the way his burnt red wings would poof every time he was shocked, even if it was just something minor, like a spider. The way he’d listen to Mumbo ramble on for hours, not being annoyed by how Mumbo would trail off and start making zero sense. Every aspect of him made the mustached man smile. The feeling was mutual, Grian already felt this way, and almost felt like he was starting to have an obsession about the taller spoon.

After a couple more months of the two dating, one evening whilst the sun was setting, on the same lakeshore they first walked on, Mumbo asked Grian to marry him. Mumbo hadn’t had the money to afford an actual ring, so he gave Grian the best piece of jewelry he had, a silver bracelet with a large red Ruby lined in gold in its middle. It was his sisters before she passed. Grian practically flattened the man, pushing him onto the warm sand, hugging him while repeatedly saying, yes.

The wedding was small, they wanted it keep it on the Down-low because they didn’t want Mumbo’s parents to find out. Shortly after, Mumbo got a job being a professor for engineering at a local college, and got paid handsomely. Grian became a veterinarian, specializing in birds. He eventually got one, named professor beak. They moved into a large white colonial house in a good neighborhood, and eventually, since they couldn’t have some of their own, they built two sweet little robot boys, named Grumbot and Jrumbot. And after a few years built two more, who they promptly named, Grumbot Prime and Emperor Grumbot. Nicknamed Emmett and Parker so they didn’t get confused. They yearned for them to be real. For them to live life. But that was something they could never achieve, and they accepted that.

Life was going well for them, almost too well.

It was bound to happen eventually, Mumbo’s parents finding out. They had Mumbo’s whole life planned out, every second, day, month and year. They were furious after they found out what Mumbo had done. Mumbo’s family was deeply involved in mobs, their entire family had a role they needed to fulfill, or else. Mumbo leaving set the family in a great turmoil, and at this point, his family decided the only fair thing to do was to punish him. Greatly.

It was an accidental house fire, or at least that was the police concluded to. A mere accident. Mumbo, wrapped in sliver blankets, shaking, dust and ash splattered on his face, knew this wasn’t an accident, it wasn’t. First there was a smell of smoke, then an explosion. The house, engulfed in flames, he couldn’t save anyone. He failed. He chose himself. He didn’t mean to. The last time he saw Grian was the night before, saying how much he loved him. He never said goodbye to his kids. They couldn’t be fixed. He wouldn’t have done it anyway. He couldn’t bring himself to look at them. They reminded him too much of Grian.

Mumbo lost everything after the fire. His job, his house, his family. He remembered searching his destroyed house for anything that could’ve survived, all he found was the silver bracelet he gave Grian. He had never took it off. Not since the day he got it.

Mumbo didn’t have anywhere to go. He had to go home. Pretend like he didn’t know they ruined his life. He got remarried to the witch his parents wanted him to marry. She was pure evil. She lived to torture Mumbo. She was the embodiment of the guilt he felt for not saving anyone in the fire. Regrettably, he had 1 kid with her. Pricilla. She was a doll, the opposite of her mother. But Mumbo couldn’t bring himself to show affection to her, because Pricilla reminded him of Grumbot. He loved her, he just couldn’t show it.

Mumbo fell into a deep depression, he felt like he had nobody anymore. He drunk himself blind, and looked at the scarred bracelet everyday. Without his wife knowing. Until one day, when brushing his teeth in his lavish bedroom, he saw something. In the corner of the room. He swore someone was there. He thought he was going insane. Everyday the white ghostly figure would return, but Mumbo never felt scared. It almost felt familiar.

He became acquainted with the ghost, oddly enough. But it felt good to speak with someone, even if they don’t talk back. One day, Mumbo spoke about Grian. He told stories of how they met, what Grian was like, and how wonderful he was. He showed the ghost the bracelet he gave Grian all those years ago. The ghost loved the bracelet, and smiled whenever Mumbo showed it to him.

The ghost was Grian. Mumbo never knew. Years went by and he kept on talking to the ghost. And the ghost kept on coming back. He grew older, and so did the ghost. In some weird way, Mumbo and Grian got to grow old together. They were always together, but just didn’t know it.

When Mumbo finally died, he was able to save someone, himself. He reunited with his family, seeing how they haven’t changed since the day he last saw them. He finally was able to forever live in peace.

Some hardcore shit right there

It wasn't the story they wanted for each other, but it was the ending. Mumbo is surprised to see his ghost is that of a younger man, not the age he was when he died.

Mumbo had been a dead man walking for far longer than he lived, and his soul reflected that. In the same way he finds Grian, still a bright bundle of energy, leaping into Mumbo's arms.

They might not be a traditional couple, being dead and all. But did they let that stop them before?

Mumbo makes sure to watch and guide Pricilla as much as he could, just as Grian had done for him (Grian had so many stories to tell.) It's a lot easier with his husband by his side.

#hermitshipping #ask #grian tag #mumbo tag #grumbo #mod 🎀#death tw #abuse tw #child death tw #murder tw #alcohol tw

46 notes · View notes

vlion · 2 years

Note

please please write a jealous jake lockley fic where he’s either jealous of always being in the shadow while marc and steven get reader’s attention or maybe he’s jealous of someone from her work (sfw or nsfw if you want). TY IN ADVANCE!!

Damsel in Distress (Moon Knight Boys/Female Reader)

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this fic! I kinda tried to combine both of the things requested and I hope you like the direction I took! This was super fun to write as well as to dust off my smut writing skills! I could definitely see myself writing a part 2 to this so let me know if that's something y'all are interested in.

Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39540033

Content Warnings/General Themes: ⚠ 18+ content: by reading this you affirm you are over the age of 18 years or over the age of maturity as stated in your regional or local guidelines. jealousy, unwanted advances, lots of swearing (mainly from Jake because he’s Jake), Marc/Steven/Jake all making appearances, established relationships, violence (pretty minor, only one instance), one mention of blood, allusions to prior sexual actvities, oh boy here comes the good stuff, semi-public sexual activities, museum sex, spit kink (like A LOT, I’m sorry), mouth spitting, handjob, oral (m recieving), face-fucking, hair-pulling, degradation (including use of demeaning terms), praise kink, facial, “Sir” kink, allusions to Dom/Sub relationship dynamic, mentions of choking, Jake having a filthy mouth (as he should).

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4,071

“Absolutely not.”

Your boyfriend’s voice drew your attention away from the mirror you had been anxiously eyeing yourself in. You had been getting ready for what felt like hours, doing everything you could to pass the time rather than anxiously pacing around your shared apartment. You had been invited to a fancy gala at the museum you and Steven worked at together, and much to his and Marcs’ dismay–apparently–you had chosen one of your more revealing cocktail dresses for the occasion.

You turned to your boyfriend, with a mock frown on your face. “What, you don’t like it?”

He rolled his eyes after not so subtly taking your form in. “Baby…I already have to stay on the back burner tonight…and now you’re going to be wearing that all night? Are you trying to kill me?”

“Maybe not kill you, just make you suffer internally for a bit,” you said, with a cheeky wink. “And I am definitely wearing this dress, no ifs, ands, or buts about it, Marc.” You had already been hyped up by your friends and coworkers to wear this particular outfit, as well as by yourself, and there was no way you were going to change because of how one of your boyfriends was feeling about it.

It wasn’t like Marc was dressed particularly conservative either–the way his tailored suit and perfectly styled hair looked together had you weak at the knees. You wished that you could take him as your plus one, but you and Steven had specifically been invited, and people would surely be raising some eyebrows if he suddenly started speaking with an American accent. Not to mention the completely different manner in which Marc carried himself, and the fact that he worked for a mummified bird for a living. That probably wouldn’t fly well around the historians and archeologists and whoever the hell else attended these types of things.

“You’re a little brat, you know that?” Marc said in response to you. He also took the opportunity to kiss you on the cheek and pull you in by the hips, which made you practically melt in place.

“Yeah…but I’m your brat,” you practically whined out, trying to look as innocent as possible. You could tell Marc knew you were just fucking with him, but you had to admit it was fun to push his buttons every once in a while.

You could sense a shift within the man in front of you.

“Surely you mean our brat right, love?” he asked, nose crinkling as he enunciated each word with his distinct accent.

You knew Steven was going to make an appearance sooner rather than later, as he could be a bit of a control freak when the two of you had a place to be. You honestly preferred it at times though, especially when compared to Marc’s tendency to spontaneously propose things for the two of you to do. You asked Marc on one of your heat-of-the-moment dates why he wasn’t a fan of making plans ahead of time, and he simply responded by telling you he had a lot he wanted to make up for in a relatively short amount of time, so he wanted to make the most of it. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pain in your heart at his confession, knowing about his past and the very reason for Steven’s existence. From that moment on, the love you felt for Marc–and Steven–increased exponentially, and you vowed to love each of them for who they are–even if that involves having to rush out the door for one of the escapades Marc took you on.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Steven glanced at his–or rather, Marc’s– watch, and reached for your hand. “I don’t mean to rush you, love, but we should really get going if we want to make it on time. Or, we could be fashionably late, but I don’t know if we are cool enough to pull that off.”

You couldn't help but giggle at that. If there’s one thing you could count on with Steven, it’s him making light of what would have certainly been a source of anxiety for you. You dreaded going to these work events, having to get all dolled up just to meet a bunch of stuck-up rich people who you would forget about the moment you step out of the event. Your boss, Donna, wanted the two of you there to ‘represent the museum’–which basically meant to stand there and look pretty while the rich folk had the night to gawk at the various artifacts and collections that you and Steven had so tirelessly fussed over. But hey, at least you were getting paid for showing up to this thing.

You had to nearly fight Donna to get her to allow Steven to venture out of the gift shop and work in other positions at the museum, which then resulted in the two of you rotating between working the shop as well as in the various exhibit halls. For some reason, Donna had taken a liking to you from the moment you first started working at the museum. Whether it was because you were generally pretty productive, or if she was simply happy to see more women working in this industry, you didn’t know, but you were certainly glad that you didn’t have her constantly breathing down your neck whenever something went wrong. You wished that you could say the same for Steven, but you liked to think that your presence did something to soften her up around him, especially when you were both on the same schedule.

You pulled yourself back to reality and glanced at the time yourself, realizing that Steven was indeed right in hurrying you along. You looked back in the mirror one more time, swiping your chosen lipstick across your lips once more, and upon interlocking Steven’s outstretched hand with your own, the two of you were off.

You were about two hours into the event when you started to get…fussy. That was the best way you could describe how you were feeling after hours of mingling and chowing on whatever appetizers were floating around in the various exhibit halls. Thankfully, you and Steven technically didn’t have to work, but it certainly felt like you each had become some type of designated spokesperson for the museum with the interactions you were having with the guests. You had attended some of these events in the past, and you were required to wear your nametag for security and identification purposes, so it seemed that any time someone had a question about literally anything you and Steven were the ones to come to. You didn’t mind the various questions about the artifacts or historical figures represented in the exhibits, but you were getting seriously tired of telling one person after another where the nearest restroom was.

You had taken a bit of a break from the event, finding an unoccupied table away from others where you could sit and eat some ‘real food’ that had been offered buffet-style in addition to the hors d'oeuvres going around. You could see Steven from where you were sitting, who upon glancing at the lack of vegan options, decided he would opt for a bite to eat later at the flat. He was currently telling an elderly couple about the history of gods know what. You couldn’t help but admire how passionate he was about the things he was interested in, and how he could articulate information in such a succinct manner. You found it to be incredibly attractive, especially when he was going down on–

“Hey there, gorgeous,” a voice said, drawing you out of your thoughts. You look up to see your coworker, J.B., with a cocky smirk on his face.

You rolled your eyes and tried to visibly ignore him by angling yourself away from him, making it clear that you weren’t interested. Like, at all. J.B. had been nothing but a dick to both you and Steven the entire time you had collectively worked at the museum, and his crude remarks and tasteless flirtations were usually easy to brush off, especially after a long day at work. Now, however, you had zero tolerance for this kind of behavior.

But still, he somehow found a way to see through that.

“C’mon sweetheart. You wanna get out of here? Or are you too busy gawking over that freak over there?”

You immediately snapped your head back towards him. “Excuse me?! You, of all people, don’t get to call him that.” Upon seeing him roll his eyes, you continued on. “You wish you could ever mean as much to me as he does.” You knew you didn’t have to add the last part in order to get a rise out of him, but sometimes you just loved to see the world burn.

And make entitled pricks angry.

J.B. made a show of slapping the table in front of you out of anger at your statement, luckily not gaining the attention of anyone in your immediate area. You tried to glance around him to send Steven a look of ‘what-in-the-actual-hell-is-this-dude-doing-right-now,’ but he was too obscured by the stupidity that was unfolding in front of you.

Speaking of just that, J.B. reached his hand out and gestured for yours, clearly desperate. “I’m not gonna ask again.” He said, and you almost humored him and leaned in his direction to give him a piece of your mind, but after hearing distinct footsteps coming your way from behind him, you refrained.

“That’s enough.” The voice from behind J.B sounded familiar to you yet also…off. He certainly sounded like Steven, and was presenting himself as such, but you couldn’t help but think that one of your other boyfriends may be making an appearance. Well, rather, faking a British accent and attempting to act like Steven–if you could call that an appearance. You’ve dealt with enough of their shenanigans in the past to know when something was up; and to also know that Steven is pretty much the complete opposite of the confrontational type, further leading you to believe that he wasn’t who you were seeing right now.

J.B. turned around–dramatically of course–giving Steven(?) a death stare. “Here comes the freak to save the day. I knew she was that patheti-”

J.B. was promptly cut off by your boyfriend’s fist colliding with his face, as well as your shameless chuckle when J.B. looked between the two of you with wide eyes. “Donna’s gonna have a fucking field day with this, you’ll see,” he said, wiping some blood from his nostril.

It was you who spoke next. “Yeah, she would love to hear about how you tried to harass her star-worker. Oh, and that you made my boyfriend–who she already isn’t quite fond of–get into more trouble. Yeah, I’m sure that would go over well.”

J.B. was once again taken aback, clearly frustrated but attempting to keep his rage at bay out of the fear of being put in his place again. He opened his mouth to say something, but upon making eye contact with you and the other man once more decided just to smack the table again and walk away. What a fucking man-baby.

You turned your attention to the man in front of you, whose hand came up to cradle your cheek. “You know, as much as I hate the trope of the guy swooping in and saving the damsel in distress, I have to say, I’m grateful that my boyfriend knows how to throw a punch.”

The cocky smirk on your boyfriend's face completely gave him away, and you were soothed by the velvety voice that accompanied his relaxed demeanor. “Princesa, we both know that you would be the one rescuing me in that scenario, no?” A visibly exuberated Jake said, likely feeling the effects of adrenaline from the tussle he had gotten himself into. Well, actually, Steven into– technically. You’d seen each of the boys’ reactions after a fight before, and while Steven and Marc were able to keep the rush from the fight in their pants, Jake was…different. The first time you saw him get like this you were nearly scared of him, but more dumbfounded by how excited someone could get after literally fighting people only seconds ago.

You smiled at his words, nodding your head to agree with him. He swiped his thumb over your lips, before looking around to judge if the other party-goers were winding down for the night or not. He didn’t particularly care how people would react to the two of you slipping out early or not, but he knew you certainly would; which is why he was pleased to see that no one seemed in dire need of hearing the history of whatever ancient civilization was of interest to them, or to know when dessert would be served.

“Let’s get out of here, eh? Mi amor?” He asked, a twinkle in his eyes. He reached his arm out for you to take, and he was quick to give you a kiss on the back of your hand and then tuck your arm into his elbow when you reached your hand out. Sure, Jake could be a bit unhinged at times, but at least he was a gentleman. Usually.

You glanced around to ensure no one was watching as the two of you made your way towards the exit, and you let out a squeak of surprise as you were pulled into a small room that you and Steven generally took inventory in. There were shelves full of museum merchandise, as well as a few seasonal posters and displays.

“Jake, what the hell?” You asked, honestly just wanting to get back home to your comfy bed.

“Sorry, cariño, I couldn’t help myself,” he said, his hands going straight to your curves. “From the moment I saw you in this dress and saw what that fucking cabrón was trying to do…I just…I wanted you so bad .”

You chuckled at how possessive he was being. For such a big, bad mercenary, you would expect the man to have at least some restraint but alas, Jake was simply built different.

“Aww, Jakey, don’t worry. The feeling is mutual,” you said, in a rather teasing manner.

Jake rolled his eyes at the nickname. “Open your mouth,” he said, nearly out of the blue, looking at you through hooded eyes.

You obeyed, not trying to dig yourself an even deeper hole. He made a show of reaching his hand up and pressing it against your throat, tilting your head back so he could angle himself above you. You closed your eyes, knowing what was to come, and nearly moaned when he spit into your mouth.

He used his index finger to collect some of the spit that had hit your outer lip and cheek, and brought it back to your tongue. “Swallow” he commanded, a devious look in his eyes. You obeyed him again, clenching your thighs together as you swallowed nice and slowly, his hand still resting on your throat.

“Good girl. Now get on your knees and show me what a good fucking slut you are for me, hmm?” He said, and if you weren’t already so willing to comply, his words alone would have made your knees weak anyways.

You sunk down to your knees, making your dress ride up in the process. There was no way you were going to let it get ripped in this new position after seeing what it did to each of your boys, so you didn’t care to straighten it out or fix it. You looked up innocently at Jake, and you weren’t surprised that he was looking exactly where you had just been thinking of. You went to pull the material down out of the fear that he may make you cover up, but you stopped your actions when his hands gripped your shoulders.

“Keep it like that, princesa. Reminds me how filthy you can be for me. For us .” He exaggerated the last word with a knowing smirk, recalling back to the occasions when he would watch in on the things you would do with the other two men he shared a body with. He mentally reminded himself to thank you for the floor length mirror you brought home to the flat one day, telling Steven that it was just for you to ‘give yourself a once-over before venturing out’, but that certainly didn’t explain why it had only ever rested against the wall directly next to the bed.

“Take my cock out,” Jake said, and you felt your pussy clench at his words. You forgot how unfiltered he could be when he got like this–you loved it.

“Yes Sir,” you replied, smirking as you used the title. Ever since you jokingly used the word to refer to him after a joyride in his limo one day, you had become aware of the effect it had on him. You used it a couple other times to tease him, all of which lead to some intense lovemaking (if you could even call it that after some of the sinful things you’ve let him do to you).

You made quick work of removing his belt and unbuttoning his pants, slowly drawing the zipper down. Once the material was opened, and you had a clear view of his hard cock in his boxers, you took the liberty of lightly stroking your fingers up his easily distinguishable shaft.

Jake inhaled sharply at that, and grabbed your wrist to stop your actions. “I gave you an order, baby. Now’s not the time to tease.” He released pressure on your wrist, tucking your hair that had fallen forward behind your ear before leaning down to it. “Do I need to remind you that we are still in public? Huh?”

“No.”

“No, what?” He asked, a shit eating grin forming on his lips.

“No, Sir,” you replied, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Good girl,” he praised, loving the sound of the title on your lips. “Now make me cum like a good little whore.”

You clenched your thighs together at that, sure that you were soaking through your underwear at this point. The vulnerability and filthiness of it all should’ve turned you off, but the chokehold that Jake had on you–sometimes literally–was no doubt the cause of many feelings you had yet to fully dissect. But hey, ignorance is bliss.

Not wanting to stall any longer, for both his and your sake, you reached into his boxers and took his cock into your hands. You used your dominant hand to stroke up and down the shaft, using the pre-cum that had already begun collecting there as slick to aid your actions. Your other hand went to his full balls that were surely aching from the lack of contact.

Just as you found yourself getting into a good rhythm, you were shocked to feel Jake removing your non-dominant hand and angling it up towards his face. He leant down slightly, looking directly into your eyes, and then spit twice into your palm. “Use both hands up here, cariño,” he said, gesturing to his shaft. “I want to see how they look on my cock.”

You obeyed, gliding the hand with his spit in it along the entire length before bringing both hands up to the shaft and jerking him off. Your hands could barely fit around the girth of his dick, adding to the sinfulness of it all. That, combined with the wet sounds that the action made, seemed to be only amplified by the fact that you were in a relatively confined room at your place of work. You tried to focus on pleasuring Jake with your hands, but you couldn’t think straight with the swollen tip of his cock barely an inch from your face.

In other situations, you may have been a bit more hesitant about acting without permission, but you could tell that Jake was nearing his peak as you kept stroking. You knew how much he loved your mouth on him, so you closed the distance between your mouth and his cock, swirling your tongue around what you could fit in your mouth. You were immediately met with a moan from the man above you, who had to bite down on his knuckles to stifle any other noises. From the way he was breathing, you could tell he was definitely trying to hold back, both physically and vocally, so as not to reveal your location to the others outside the door. You were honestly beyond the point of caring, so you picked up the pace a bit, removing your tongue from the equation and settling to suck hard on his tip.

That seemed to really do something to Jake, provoking him to reach up and grab your hair in his fists.

“Fuck! Such a good girl for me,” he praised, allowing his hips to thrust in order to match your tempo. You could feel his balls hardening as they came in contact with your skin, and you knew he was close.

“Does my pretty princess wanna make me cum? Hmm?” He asked. “Right here, while your coworkers are in the other room?” He added, raising his eyebrow at your eagerness.

You nodded as a response, removing one of your hands to play with his balls once again and to allow him deeper into your mouth. The combination of your willingness to take him, as well as his eager thrusts caused him to nearly hit the back of your throat.

With a few more deep thrusts, Jake was removing his hands from your hair, and using them to angle your face towards him how he wanted. You removed your hands out of instinct, opting to place them on either side of his hips instead.

“Stick out your tongue,” he demanded, furiously stroking his length in front of you.

“I want your cum so bad, Jake” you said, before doing what he asked.

At that, he leaned down one last time and spit in your mouth again and you smiled with your mouth open, knowing he couldn’t resist.

“Ready for it, baby?” He asked, bringing his cock back to your open mouth.

You nodded frantically, closing your eyes when you could tell he was about to orgasm. You felt his cum hit your tongue and lips, the warm liquid tasting salty and distinctly like Jake. You nearly came with him at the sensation, as well as when he cupped your chin with one of his large hands to admire his work.

When he released you, you made a show of swallowing the liquid and licking off what didn’t make it inside with your tongue. You made eye contact with Jake while doing so, who you could tell was in a state of complete bliss. You leaned forward to lick up any of the cum left on his tip, then tucked him into his boxers and pants. He offered you a hand to help you stand up, letting you get used to being bipedal once more as he replaced his belt.

“Maybe I should play the role of damsel in distress more often, huh?” You asked, giving Jake a quick kiss as he adjusted his clothes and hair. You figured you should probably do the same, hiking your skirt back down and running a hand through your own hair.

“And maybe I should take you out of here and fuck you in the back of my limo to remind you who you belong to?” He responded, clearly still jazzed from everything that had gone on over the course of the night.

“Jakey, you know me so well!” You took his hand in yours, linking arms and allowing him to guide you out of the room and building with a hand on the small of your back.

As the two of you walked out together, you could’ve sworn you saw J.B. staring at you with wide eyes before looking between you and the security camera terminal.

Maybe you shouldn’t have insisted on them being installed in the storage room.

taglist: @verexi

#marc spector x reader #jake lockely x reader #steven grant x reader #moonknight x you #moon knight smut #jake lockley smut

709 notes · View notes