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quickienewyork · 1 year

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A Continental Affair

(From my collection, Sex in Cars: Vol 2)

“We can’t go to the roof. Someone will see us.”

“What about the bathroom?” I asked.

“There’s only two. Someone will need one.”

We looked about the party, our eyes scanning the room desperately. Once we had decided the affair was going to happen, we could not wait. The fact that Sonja’s husband was mixing drinks by the bar and my wife was sitting by the pool smoking a cigarette and talking to her sister didn’t deter us.

“This is crazy,” she said, leaning in closer to me. “I don’t know where it came from, but I want you so badly.”

“I’ve wanted to fuck you for years,” I said. “But this is different. I’m about to throw you down on the couch if you’re not careful.”

“Would you take me while they all watch? What do you think they’d do?”

“Applaud?”

“I can’t even imagine. My husband would probably have a stroke. Your wife would most likely pour another drink and say something French.”

“Do you remember our trip to New York?” I asked. The two of us were standing by the island between the kitchen and the living room, and if anyone thought anything, they kept it to themselves. We were just old friends catching up at a party.

“We ended up in one room after the hotel lost our reservation,” she said. “Two full beds and all four of us.”

“Chloe kept asking me why I was so amorous all week long. We made love every time you left the room. She wasn’t upset, but she was curious.”

“What did you tell her?” Sonja asked.

“Nothing of course. What was there to say? I had seen you in the shower when Marc left the door ajar? That you sent me a picture from the lady’s room while we were all eating dinner?”

“I meant it for Marc. I swear I did.”

Nothing had happened of course. We spent the week like four old friends, eating and drinking our way through the city, but I could think of little else. It wasn’t the first time I wanted her, but it was the first time I thought it possible. A view through glass, a mistaken message, and I was lost. Each time I made love to my wife, it was Sonja’s face in my mind.

“What about the car?” She asked me, stepping back with a shy smile.

“The new one?” I asked, feeling myself shiver at the thought.

“It’s bigger,” she whispered, looking up at me with eyes I couldn’t resist. The entire situation was ridiculous, and yet still I couldn’t stop.

“He’d murder me,” I said, watching him from across the room. I suspected that he loved the car as much as he did Sonja. If not more.

“We’ll have to be quick.”

“I won’t last anyway.”

“That’s not the point,” she said, brazenly touching my hand. “The point is to do it. Even if only for a few seconds. It’s all I can think about now. You inside me. Just for a moment, so we know that we’ve done it. Just for a moment so it will feel more like a dream and less like a lie.”

“I’ll meet you in the garage,” I said. I turned without another word and made my way to the back door. Chloe smiled as I stepped up next to her, but she didn’t stop talking. Her sister eyed me cautiously, but I was used to that. When I offered to get them both drinks, they merely nodded in response. They’d hardly notice I was gone.

Back in the house, I ignored Marc as best I could. He was entertaining some colleagues, with particular attention on the new intern. I hoped for a moment that he was cheating as well. It would make it so much easier.

The garage was dark, but I could see her silhouette near the car. It was a 1961 Lincoln Continental four-door convertible, and she was standing by the back door on the driver’s side. The roof was already down, which while offering more room, also left us more exposed. I didn’t move for too long as I stared at it. It was a thing of beauty, and what we planned to do felt nearly sacrilegious.

“We don’t have time for anything fancy,” she said, leaning back and lifting her dress. Her stockings and garter were black, and I watched as she removed her underwear and tossed it onto the backseat. I reached down as I finally stepped into the dark garage and I wondered for a moment if we could do it.

When Sonja opened the door and climbed in, I nearly ran. But when she lifted her dress and opened her legs, there was nothing else to do.

“Make love to me,” she said, her voice quivering with lust and doubt. “Quickly.”

I undid my pants before climbing on top of her, and I could smell the leather seats as I positioned myself. She was beautiful, but that hardly felt important. She was also ready. After all these years, Sonja was offering me paradise.

It took me a few moments to push inside her. I had to lick my hand and touch myself before I could penetrate her easily, and I could feel her twitching with impatience. But then I was there, the task completed and it felt both beautiful and empty. I thrust into her four times as she wrapped her legs around me. Sonja held my head in her hands and pecked me on the lips again and again as we pressed our bodies together.

“Oh god!” I cried, letting go almost instantly. I thrust deep into her so as not to ruin the seats as I began to come, and she pulled me down to her shoulder as she held me. I could smell her perfume, and it reminded me of New York.

“Be careful getting up,” she said. “I don’t want to make a mess.”

“I came a lot,” I said, leaning up on my hands. “It’s been so long.”

“Well just be careful,” she said.

There wasn’t much to do, but I tried to put her dress down so if anything came out it wouldn’t land on the seat. When I finally withdrew it was with an uncomfortable sound. I pulled up my trousers, careful to get my briefs on first so I wouldn��t stain my pants. She ended up with some come on the inside of her dress, but hopefully, it wasn’t too much.

I pulled her up by one hand and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She smiled awkwardly and then pushed me towards the house as she quietly closed the car door.

“Go inside, and I’ll be there shortly. And don’t look nervous. Chloe could always see through you.”

I mumbled something as I made my way to the kitchen and the two drinks I had promised to bring only a few minutes earlier. Three glasses of wine in hand, I went through the back door to deliver them. Chloe reached around me and held me to her, resting her head lovingly on my shoulder as she continued talking.

The night was warm and beautiful, and the party had yet to wind down. People stood about, sat on the edge of the pool, or came and went in search of good conversation or more drink. We found ourselves dangling our feet in the water as we talked of my sister-in-law’s children.

Nearly an hour went by without me once seeing Sonja. Had she gone to bed? Was she avoiding me? It wasn’t perfect, but after so long, wasn’t it enough?

“I’ll be back in a few; I have to use the restroom.”

“Darling, you don’t have to say where you’re going,” Chloe reminded me. “Just go.”

I nodded as I stood and began to search the house while trying to look inconspicuous. After twenty minutes, I realized Marc was nowhere to be seen either. They must have either gone up to the bedroom or vanished altogether.

As I began to grow frantic, it occurred to me that Sonja had thrown her panties off in the car, but we never picked them up again. I bit my lip as I looked about. It was up to me to save their marriage, so I quietly found my way back to the garage. I opened the door, only to hear two voices.

Peering into the dim room, I saw Sonja and Marc in the backseat of the car. She was straddling him in nothing but her lingerie, and it was clear they were fucking. And most likely had been for a while.

“I love when you fuck me, you bastard,” she moaned. “Are you jealous? Are you jealous of your little friend?”

“Never,” I heard him said, grabbing her ass and lifting up. “He could never satisfy my wife. Not this one. Not my insatiable, whore. Not my love.”

“I feel so dirty,” she moaned, pulling on his lip. “It was so short, but it doesn’t matter. I had to struggle not to laugh at how quickly he came. It might have been sweet if it hadn’t been so sad.”

“I love how cruel you are,” he said, kissing her breasts.

I was watching two people I had never seen before. Their words were new, and they stung like cold metal and wet skin. Sonja laughed and cried as she made love to her husband and all the fear and shyness I knew were nowhere to be seen. Her face was that of another woman.

“Tell me again how you teased him in New York. Tell me how long he’s waited for those ten seconds of sex.”

“I’ve been so mean,” she whispered, leaning in until I could no longer hear.

Somehow I managed to close the door and pull myself away, but the images and words wouldn’t let me go. I had been so sure that she loved me. That she longed to be with me too, and not just for a brief moment in the car. She had been the one to tell me quick would be better. Hotter. More erotic.

In the kitchen, I found a bottle of vodka in the freezer. I filled a glass with ice and then vodka to the top. When I found my wife, she was topless in the pool, talking to the intern who looked at her with equal parts admiration and adoration. They touched each other’s arms as they stood laughing. Chloe waved at me and blew me a kiss.

I sat down on a chair, my legs unsteady. The vodka was gone in minutes as I lay back and looked up at the stars. Laughter was better than crying, but it came from nowhere all the same. It was absurd of course, and surely I would break another time.

But right then, as I lay drunk and alone, I clung to my empty truth.

No matter what else, I had fucked Sonja in her husband’s car.

And it had been perfect.

-guy

(From my collection, Sex in Cars: Vol 2)

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arvinsescape · 3 years

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Too busy.

A/N: I am so sorry this took a while to get out, but here it is! I hope you all enjoy, it is based off a request that @tomhollandlol sent me and I hope you also enjoy and thanks again for your patience. I did change a couple of things but stuck to the basic concept, I hope you don’t mind 💕

Request: Angst one shot, they have 2 kids together, different scenarios, he never pays attention and does something else and is always too busy.

Warnings: Bit of swearing, mentions of sex.

W/C: 4.2K

This last six months had been the hardest she’d ever had to go through, in her entire six years of marriage to Tom, this had been the hardest. Having two kids on top of that didn’t make it any easier, she felt alone, more alone than she had in her life, she was bringing up two children, seemingly on her own. Their eldest was almost four and their youngest was nine months old and teething, which meant she cried a lot.

Tom had been there for most of their journey, he shared the work load and it made life easier but this last six months haven’t ben the case. He became busier, he had two projects going at once and whilst she would happily make allowances for his career it was becoming too much for her. She hated the assumption that things should be easy because she was a stay-at-home mum but that was far from the truth. The children were so young that they needed her constant and undivided attention.

She was struggling to give two children her undivided attention and recently she’s become run down, completely running of fumes. She lives her life in a constant state of tired, she barely does a thing for herself, hell even a shower seemed like a hard task half of the time and Tom? Well half of the time she wasn’t a hundred per cent sure exactly what it was he was doing. She wondered how he hadn’t noticed, how he hadn’t seen the tiredness she constantly displayed.

Half of the mums at school had noticed, she saw it in their looks of pity when she arrived with her son, looking run down and disheveled because she couldn’t make herself look presentable. She didn’t have the time because either her baby would need something or her four-year-old which left no time for herself in a morning.

“Tom?” She shouted as she bounced Ava on her hip.

“Yeah?” He shouted back from where ever he was in the house.

“Can I get your help please?”

“Y/N, I’m busy.”

“You’re always busy.” She muttered to herself as she gave up and tried to soothe Ava on her own whilst making Noah’s lunch.

“Tom, I’ve just cleaned there.” She spoke, almost in disbelief as she watched her husband place his golf clubs in the middle of the hall.

“I’ll move them in a bit.” He shrugged. “I need to read over some stuff.” He said as he wandered down the hall and into his office. She couldn’t help herself as she flipped him off on his way, thankful he couldn’t see.

“Tom? Is there any chance you can take Noah to school tomorrow? I need to take Ava to an appointment and I don’t wanna be late again.”

“I can’t darling, I’m busy.” He answered, eyes on his laptop.

“Tom, please? I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” She tried and Tom looked up at her.

“Y/N/N, I am really busy right now. Just take Noah into school earlier and then you won’t be late.” He said and she looked at him in disbelief.

“Right, yeah, okay.” She huffed and left his office, shutting the door with enough force to let him know she was upset with him.

“Daddy! Look what I did.” Noah screamed as he made his way through the door.

“I’ll have a look in a bit my love, I’m busy at the moment.” Tom answered and their son huffed in response.

“Daddy!” Noah shouted as he ran into his father’s open arms. “Can we go for ice-cream?” He asked excitedly.

“Ask mummy, I have some work to do.” Tom said and Noah visibly deflated.

“She already said no, she’s too tired.” Noah mocked his mother’s voice.

“Well I expect she is tired.” Tom said, they never bad mouthed each other in front of the children. It wasn’t something either of them did.

“Why? She doesn’t work.” Noah folded his arms over his chest and Tom looked at him in a scalding manner.

“That’s not nice. Your mummy works really hard to make sure everything and everyone is okay. Don’t talk about her like that.”

“But she doesn’t do anything. She looks after us, my friends mummy works and she’s fine. Everyone at school has said it, she has nothing to be tired about, that’s what my friend’s mummy’s say.” Noah huffed, he had a bit of a temper streak. Tom’s heart plummeted, where people really shit talking his wife? To the point his son had become subject to it.

“That’s enough now Noah.” Tom said as he set his son down.

“Whatever. You’re always too busy and mummy’s always too tired. You’re both boring.” He snapped before running into his bedroom and slamming the door. This made Tom’s heart shatter, they were both trying to do the right thing. Tom really contemplated his life choices and in hind sight he wished he’d done something sooner, especially with the conversation he was about to have that evening.

“Tom, you are never here.” She exclaimed, a small comment having sparked an argument that had her struggling to keep her voice down.

“I’m busy. Look in a couple of months I’ll be here.” He said and she huffed folding her arms over her chest.

“You’re always busy Tom. I can’t remember the last time you put us first.”

“I’m doing this so I can take some more time off, Y/N, I don’t wanna be that guy but I earn the money, I can’t just stop working.” He snapped and she felt her anger rise in response.

“That’s bullshit,” she hissed out and he was taken aback by her tone. “You were in some of the biggest movies going a few years back. We are not struggling for money, that is some bullshit excuse for the fact that you’re not around.” She hissed, voice laced in nothing but venom.

“Look, I have a week off starting tomorrow, I don’t need to be anywhere and I won’t have any responsibilities, I can help.” He offered and she sighed, anger leaving her with nothing but defeat.

“I hope so.” She shrugged and Tom looked at her carefully.

“What do you mean?” He asked, there was something in her tone that scared him.

“I mean,” she sighed. “I can’t keep doing this, I’m tired and I need more from you.” She didn’t sound angry just tired and Tom felt his heart drop.

“Meaning?” He asked tentatively.

“Meaning, I can’t carry on doing this and next time it’s going to be a very different conversation. A conversation about us that I really don’t want to have but it’s come to that.” She sighed out before turning on her heel and leaving Tom with his thoughts. His heart shattered, had he really been so neglectful?

Tom was free for a week, which helped slightly because their son was always itching to spend time with his father. She thought this would mean that she got a little respite after their conversation the previous night but that’s not how it panned out.

“Y/N?” Her husbands voice echoed through the halls and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his tone. She shouted back her location within the house and few seconds later he appeared. “I need you to look after Noah.” He said, their son hot on his heels, she furrowed her brows.

“Why?” She couldn’t help but asked and Tom gave her a sympathetic look.

“I need to get some of this work done and as much as I love him he’s distracting me.” Tom spoke and she couldn’t help but huff, it was always something.

“I thought you were off this week?” She couldn’t help but ask, tone clipped and she instantly regretted using it in front of Noah.

“I was but then my agent emailed this morning and I now have a load of work to do.” He said, there was a sadness laced in his tone but she didn’t care. She passed him feeling bad about it, she needed him to put them first and recently he hasn’t.

“Fine, whatever.” She grumbled out a response and Tom felt awful, he could see how tired she was, he wouldn’t deny that. But these two projects were taking over and he felt just as tired trying to keep up. To anyone else looking in they would have said the couple needed to sit down and have a chat but of course relationships are more complex than that and the couple were still waiting to have said chat.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” Tom spoke and she sighed.

“It’s whatever Tom. He has some schoolwork he should be doing anyway.” She said, tone defeated and Tom sighed before nodding and making his way back into his office. He wanted to say something but he was afraid to start an argument in front of the children, the two had agreed that their arguments would be kept private, the children didn’t need to know about them.

She spent the afternoon trying to split herself between helping Noah with his math’s work and Ava with her teething. Noah was a bright child when it came to English and Art but Math’s? He was no good at and required a lot of help. She found herself growing frustrated the more she went through the work, she felt guilty but she was so tired she couldn’t help it.

“No, Noah. I’ve shown you this now. Come on, you need to work with me.” She said and instantly regretted the words.

“Mummy, I am trying but I don’t get it.” Noah said back as Ava burst into another flood of tears. She jumped up from her seat, Noah making a noise of annoyance at her actions. She scooped Ava into her arms and rocked her, it was making no difference, the ache in the child’s gum causing ample discomfort.

“Ava come on, shh, it’s okay. Calm down.” She said as she hastily scanned the living room in search of her teething ring. Her eyes landing on the object and she hastily picked it up before handing it to her daughter. She placed the ring in her mouth and instantly her screams calmed to small cries. Once she was settled enough, Y/N placed her back in her high chair and proceeded to help Noah.

She was tired by the end of the evening, her only job being left was to put Noah to bed and he just wouldn’t settle either. He wasn’t great at bed times, he was an alert child who found it hard to switch off for the day.

“Mummy, can we please have another story?” He asked and she felt herself deflate, all she wanted was to have a bath and go to bed.

“But sweetheart, I’ve already read two.” She tried to reason and Noah threw his book onto the floor which made her sigh out as she retrieved it.

“Please mummy? I’m not even tired, can’t I just play with my toys?” He asked, arms folded across his chest and she wasn’t prepared for what was to come next, signs of his temper tantrum approaching and fast.

“No sweetheart, you have school tomorrow.” She sighed out and she watched as her sons face turned into a rather sour expression.

“So? I’m not tired. How can I sleep if I’m not tired? You’re supposed to read to me.” He said and she sighed.

“Baby, mummy’s tired herself okay.” She said, she really didn’t have it in her to stay awake much longer.

“Then get daddy to read to me.” He huffed and she nodded before standing up and making her way into her husbands office, a soft knock pulling him from his work.

“Come in.” Tom’s voice spoke, eyes still trained on his emails.

“Tom? Can you read to Noah please?” She asked, hopefulness lacing her voice, her husbands eyes finding her tired ones. There was something about the way she looked tonight, the way she looked like she was struggling to keep herself stood that reality hit the man hard.

“Of course baby.” Tom said as he stood and he didn’t miss the flash of shock grace his wife’s face. He felt immensely guilty, he hadn’t been there for past six months and he could see what that was doing to her. “Have you eaten?” Tom asked and she shrugged.

“Bits but I’m not hungry.” She said as she rubbed at her red and tired eyes. Tom felt like an utter dick, he’d taken on too much and left his wife to pick up the pieces.

“You should eat.” Tom said and she shrugged.

“I just want to go to bed Tom.” She whispered out and he nodded in response before making his way over to her and kissing her forehead before pulling her into a hug.

“Then go sleep love. I’ve got Noah.” He spoke and she felt relieved, completely and utterly relieved, she didn’t even want the bath anymore, that could wait until tomorrow. She didn’t miss the excitement in her sons voice as Tom made his way into his room and she smiled before practically face planting the bed and falling asleep.

It was eight o clock in the morning when she woke, she felt sluggish as she grabbed for her phone and looked at the time. Heart beat picking up far too quickly for her bodies tired state.

“Shit.” She exclaimed as she rushed out of bed and into Noah’s room, only to find the bed empty. “Noah?” She shouted as she ran down the stairs, her mind was racing, she was running late. How had she slept for so many hours? And how had it gone interrupted?

“In here mummy.” Noah shouted back as she raced into the living room.

“I’m sorry, I’m up, I just need to get changed and then we can set off for school.” She rambled as ran into the kitchen to sort out his breakfast.

“Darling, slow down.” She heard Tom’s voice and she spun around to look at her husband, he had bags under his eyes and his hair was a slight mess. How could he still look so good? She wished she could look as good as he did, even tired.

“What?” She looked around the kitchen, evidence that Noah had already had his breakfast. His school bag filled with the books for the day and his packed lunch.

“I’m gonna take him in. Go and chill out.” He spoke as he pulled her into his chest and kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you.” She sighed and Tom nodded.

“I’ll take Ava and then you can get some rest if you need it, I’ll be back soon. I’ll do the shopping, should be an hour or so.” Tom spoke and her heart soared at his words.

“Did Ava sleep through?” She asked, realizing she’d not been woken up by her crying last night.

“Yeah, a few times. I slept in there, wanted you to catch up on some sleep.” He admitted and she could have cried with the happiness the revelation brought her. “We need to talk when I get home.” He spoke and she nodded. “Okay, well I’ll see you in an hour.” He said and she nodded before kissing her son good bye and making him promise to behave.

An hour and a half later and she’d had a relaxing bath, one that she was more than thankful and ready for. She’d even managed to have a hot cup of tea, a stark difference to the cold ones she was used to. She’d even managed to read a chapter of her new book, she still felt like she could sleep for a while but overall relaxed and content.

“Hey.” Tom said as he leant against the doorway to their bedroom. She placed her book down and looked at him.

“Hey,” she said somewhat awkwardly, she wasn’t sure how this conversation was about to go.

“I’ve just put Ava down, will probably give us a good hour or so.” He spoke and she nodded. “So,” he sighed. “We should talk.” He continued and she nodded again, words not being able to find her, she needed to know how he feeling, what he was going to say first.

“I’m sorry, I want you to know that. I’ve been so wrapped up in what I’ve been doing that I haven’t noticed what I was doing to you. I’m so used to you being the one who has everything together, who know exactly what to do that I thought you didn’t need my help as much as you do.” He started and she opened her mouth to speak but no words came out before he beat her to it.

“I know that’s not an excuse, it’s poor on my behalf and I’m sorry. You and the children, you mean everything to me. All I want in life is for you guys to get everything you want and need and I’m sorry that I’ve been the way that I have, there are no excuses.” He said and she felt her heart lift, the two could fix this, fix what has been happened. “But I need something from you.” He spoke and she furrowed her brows as she waited for him to continue.

“I need you to be honest, I need you to tell me what it’s been like to be you. I don’t want you to spare my feelings, I want you to let it all out. I’m listening now, darling, I need to know what this has done to you, how I can make it right.” He said and she nodded slightly before sitting up in bed properly, her back against the head board as she carefully played with her wedding ring. Tom sat carefully on the edge of the bed, he needed to hear what she was about to say.

“Tom, you’ve just not been here.” She started with her biggest problem. “Even when you are in the house it’s like you just expect me to do everything. You expect your clothes to be washed, dried and ironed, you expect your dinner on the table and I never used to mind. You would always say thank you but recently you haven’t and it made me wonder whether or not you just expect it of me, that it’s my job.” She started and Tom kept quiet, he wanted her to continue.

“Tom, you used to be so attentive.” She said as she reached over and took his hand in her own. “You always used to be here, know when I needed help without having to ask. I don’t mind doing all of those things for you, I really don’t but when you don’t get a thanks it feels a little like you’re being used.” She continued and his heart shattered, he would never intentionally use her, he loved her, loved his family.

“That brings me onto the kids, Tom they need so much attention. They want me to split myself in two half of the time and I can’t, it’s impossible. They both need so much from me and given Ava teething I don’t even get a full night’s sleep. I am constantly trying to run off energy that I just don’t have. It wasn’t so bad when Noah was a baby, we took shifts, you helped. Recently though Tom, it’s been me that gets up and tends to her, me that sacrifices sleep.”

“I know that might sound selfish but when you have a partner, a husband who’s supposed to help with all that it gets tiresome. I found myself getting so angry with you, I wanted to be you, I wanted to bury my head in paperwork and think of nothing else. There were days when I honestly wanted nothing to do with you, I didn’t want to be around you because everything little thing you did angered me.”

“I’ve been so tired, my mind is never where it should be. I’m always doing stupid things because I’m so tired. I never feel like I get anything back from you. I’m too tired to have an evening to myself when they have gone to sleep, I just want to sleep myself. I’m always running around after them, something you barely do anymore, sure you play with them but when was the last time you had to deal with one of Noah’s meltdowns?”

“I get that you have a lot on, I get that two projects keep you busy and if we didn’t have kids it wouldn’t affect me as much but we do and it does. I need you to be there for me Tom, I can’t keep doing this alone, I can’t.” She ended her rant and Tom felt awful, he was so angry with himself, she didn’t even sound angry anymore. She sounded like she’d accepted it and she was just tired with the situation, somehow he wishes she was screaming at him right now.

“I’m sorry princess. There are no words, no excuses for what I’ve done. I’m sorry I made you feel like that, it was never my intention. You mean the world to me, you and the kids. Things are gonna change, I promise.” Tom said, he knew now that actions spoke louder than words, it wasn’t what she wanted him to say it was what she wanted him to do.

“On top of all of that Tom, I can’t remember the last time we did anything as a couple. Most of the time I’m asleep when you get to bed, I can’t remember the last time we touched each other, it’s just draining. It all adds up.”

“I know darling. I promise things are gonna change. Why don’t you pick a film and I’ll be back in a minute?” He said and she nodded as she flicked the TV on and got herself comfortable in bed. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a day in bed. Tom returned almost ten minutes later and she wondered where he had gotten to.

“Where did you end up?” She asked as he made his way into the bedroom, two bottles of water in hand.

“Well, I grabbed these, I made sure Ava was still okay and the baby monitor is working properly and I had to send a couple of emails.” He admitted and her heart dropped, after everything she’d just said? He took in her expression as he placed the water down and jumped into bed with her. “Not like that darling, I’ve passed one of my projects onto Harrison and Harry, they’re gonna finish it up.” He said and she relaxed. “I promised things will change and they will.”

“Daddy!” Noah shouted as he ran to his father, who was there at the school gate to pick him up, Y/N right there next to him. It had been a while since they both picked him up. Ava was a little more settled today which made things a little easier.

“How was school?” Tom asked enthusiastically and then almost cried when he realised how long it had been since he asked that question.

“Amazing!” Noah gushed as he looked at his mother. “Mummy, you look so pretty.” He spoke and she laughed.

“She always looks pretty.” Tom defended her and Noah nodded.

“Yeah, but she looks extra pretty today.” Noah said. It had been a while since she was able to put effort into her appearance and she felt better for doing it. Even if it was only a nicely picked out outfit and tamed hair. “Can we go for ice cream?”

“You my boy have an obsession.” Tom laughed as he poked his son playfully. “But yeah, I think that’ll be a good idea.” Tom said as he looked to his wife who nodded in response. She didn’t miss the looks of jealousy thrown her way when they saw her with Tom.

“So what did you do this afternoon?” Noah asked his parents as he was being strapped into the back of the car.

“We watched a film.” Tom stated, it was an absolute lie, they’d gotten half an hour into the film before Tom had his head between his wife’s legs. It had been a while since they’d done anything like that and when they both realised that fact. When they both realised how long it had truly been since they’d done anything, they spent most of the afternoon catching up with each other’s bodies. In between tending to their baby of course, they both felt energized after their endeavors between the sheets.

“Was it good?”

“Absolutely amazing.” Y/N answered as Tom slipped into the driver’s seat, she took his hand in hers as she held it in her lap.

“Can we watch another film when we get home?” Noah asked excitedly.

“Sure, how about we go and spend the afternoon doing something fun and then we can go out for tea, go home and watch a film?” Tom suggested and Noah fist bumped the air.

“Yes! Does this mean you two aren’t going to be boring now?” Noah asked and Y/N and Tom found themselves laughing.

“Yes, this means we aren’t going to be boring anymore.”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland one shot #tom holland x female reader

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loeyparker · 4 years

Text

hurt her to save her - d.m

pairing: draco x fem!reader

word count: 7k

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death and torture

plot: getting closer to Draco during sixth year has consequences. Draco realizes that when he’s forced to hurt you in order to keep you safe from Voldemort

a/n: my HP obsession is back so I’ve returned to writing fics but i might have went overboard with this one lmao . it wasn’t requested, but if someone wants part 2 i’m gonna do it <3

Draco Malfoy had a very good memory. Besides being cunning and arrogant, he was also incredibly smart – which is precisely why he was second best in most classes. Behind the cold, uncaring façade the youngest Malfoy put out into the world however, stood a boy who remembered things he probably should have forgotten.

Lately, Draco Malfoy couldn’t remember the last time he felt anything but fear. He attempted to mask the feeling either with anger, determination or indifference but the true, raw feeling of fear was behind it all, much like a dementor guarding all his other emotions. The past summer planted dread and terror deep into his mind and the ink on his skin felt like it was seeping through his skin, entering his veins and poisoning his heart.

By the time he arrived back at Hogwarts for his sixth year, he felt drained. With the weight of the world on his shoulders, the young boy attempted to pretend to be a normal student, despite the countless sleepless nights and stray tears that sometimes escaped through small cracks in the emotional wall he’d built around him over the years. The tears only saw the light of day in the darkness of the Room of Requirement, where he found himself surrounded by old artifacts and silence.

“Draco, Severus has been telling me you seem distracted.” The soft, yet scared tone of Draco’s mother rang throughout the empty, rotting room in the Shrieking Shack. Broken windows allowed for the wind to invade the abandoned building violently and loudly, and to dance around the three figures standing in the dark. It caused a shiver to run up Draco’s spine, but he couldn’t tell if the reaction came from the cold or from Narcissa and Severus’s stares aimed at him.

Draco felt so small under their gaze.

“That’s true, I have been.” Draco admitted, looking forward. He focused on a spider trapping a moth in its web. “With school.” The moth fought, attempted to flap its wings but the web was too sticky. “I have to keep up my grades. Them dropping suddenly would be suspicious.” Draco’s voice didn’t waver, despite his heart beating at a much more rapid pace than normally.

“Lie.” Severus Snape spoke simply. The professor was tasked with taking care of the Slytherin boy, but he wasn’t about to listen to his childish lies while the man knew what he had been seeing in the past months around Hogwarts.

Draco didn’t move.

Narcissa sighed and got closer to her son. She placed her palms on Draco’s pale cheeks and she felt them being hollower than she remembered. Draco still didn’t look at her. The spider was covering the dying moth in his web, fully suffocating the creature.

“My boy, the dead don’t need lovers.” Narcissa’s voice was quiet, regretful even. Her heart ached for the boy who was so quickly deprived of a childhood.

“You cannot forget about the assignment because of a girl.” Snape spoke up, his voice monotonous.

“I haven’t forgotten.” Draco spat back and took a step away from his mother, whose hands dropped. He didn’t feel the lack of her palms on his cheeks, as they left no warmth Draco could feel. “And there’s no girl.”

“Do not lie to us, boy. I have seen you with the Ravenclaw girl, I am not blind.” Snape saw the glances between Draco and you in the Great Hall, he saw the way Draco fixed his gaze on you during DADA. He also caught you walking into the Room of Requirement not long after Draco the previous night. On top of that, Minerva had mentioned how Draco’s recent assignments closely mirrored yours. You had a certain style noticeable in your homework answers, and that style began to be seen in Draco’s own homework which lead everyone to speculate the two students may be closer than everyone thinks.

Before Draco could deny, Narcissa spoke “Under other circumstances, I’d be delighted to hear about a girl in your life.” Her tone was soft, yet it held an edge and sternness to it. “But you have a mission, Draco. Do I need to remind you of the consequences to befall our family if you don’t succeed?”

“No.” Draco spat. He already knew the consequences – loud and clear. They had been drilled into his mind, heart and soul the entire summer. If he couldn’t kill Dumbledore, Voldemort would kill Draco’s entire family instead.

“The girl is another weakness. Another person to add to the death list, Draco.” His mother pleaded. “You know he will kill her if he finds out.”

“I know.”

Draco could feel all the warmth in his body melt away and even his bones felt cold and heavy.

“You can still save her.” Snape spoke. “Focus on you mission, hurt her. Make her believe you don’t love her.”

Draco glanced at the spider one last time, and the moth laid still in the webs of the predator. The wind made the web sway, but only slightly. It was too sturdy to be blown away by any forces.

“Hurt her to save her.” Narcissa’s voice echoed through Draco’s mind all the way back to the castle. The Room of Requirement didn’t appear that night, and so the boy went to bed instead. He entered an empty Slytherin common room and even though the fire was burning, Draco couldn’t feel its warmth. Not even as he knelt in front of the flames, attempting to warm his freezing hands. His movements were mechanic. As he laid in bed that night, he couldn’t remember how exactly he got back into the dorm from the Shack.

However, he remembered events that took place years ago perfectly.

He especially remembered the night of the Yule Ball, two years prior. He can pinpoint the exact moment he spotted you in the crowd of well-dressed students. It was, in his mind, the first time he really, truly saw you. He remembered the small -but noticeable skip of his heart that happened as soon as his eyes landed on your figure. You were smiling, but sitting at the wrong table – which confused him for a moment. You were sat at the Gryffindor table, right next to the Weasley twins who were making you laugh. A Ravenclaw boy whose name Draco didn’t know was behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders thus signaling that he was your date that night through possessive body language. You didn’t acknowledge his presence much, though.

Pansy, Draco’s date, made comments about your dress each time you stood up to dance. The long dark blue satin dress gently touched the ground with each step you took, the slit in its side slightly exposed your leg with each movement. There was a smile on your face the whole night.

Draco thought you looked so beautiful.

He thought you looked beautiful even when your glance danced towards Ron Weasley until the end of the ball.

Draco also remembered the night Pansy dragged you into Umbridge’s office a year later. She held your arms behind your back forcefully while you struggled to get out of her grasp. Your wand was in her possession and you looked angry. A great juxtaposition to how you looked on the night of the Yule Ball. He remembered thinking how much sense it made for you to be tangled in Harry Potter’s mess because that’s what Potter did. He had everyone on his side, all odds in his favor while Draco was being dealt bad cards at every turn.

You fought and tried to get away from Pansy. Your hair was messy, and your oversized blue sweater was getting untucked from your jeans with each forceful move you made. A frown painted your soft features, your eyes seemed darker than usual. Draco caught a glimpse of the scars on your wrist which he immediately knew came from Umbridge’s detention sessions, and he felt a flicker of rage rise into his stomach. The feeling directly contradicted the satisfaction he had been feeling at the sight of Potter getting his plans spoiled right in front of him.

“Parkinson, lay it off.” Draco found himself spitting when he realized the pressure on your wrist was painful. He spoke before he realized what he was doing, and so he found the confused gazes of Ginny and Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and you – all fixed on him. Pansy obeyed Draco with discomfort.

You looked at him quizzingly, not really understanding why he was suddenly…helping you? He met your gaze just for a second before a heavy glare returned in his eyes and he turned away, focusing entirely on Harry and Umbridge.

It was minutes later when he watched your figure getting smaller as you ran away from Umbridge’s office, escaping with your friends. Draco and his friends were left behind and unable to follow as they each struggled with curses thrown at them in the escape. You were all long gone by the time the group of Slytherins came to, and Draco remembered that he found himself wishing he had people running into the line of fire for him like Harry did – he wished you would’ve glanced back at him in your escape and then weeks later when he was told about the events of that night, he found himself hoping his father didn’t hurt you in the Ministry attack.

Those thoughts and memories didn’t stay with him for long that summer, though. Draco couldn’t say that you crossed his mind after he received the Mark.

Until that night.

It was late and he was in the Room of Requirement, still fiddling with the cabinet. It was the fourth consecutive night spent in there after finding the damn thing, and he wasn’t anywhere close to fixing it. Frustrated, he punched and kicked the wood so hard that his knuckles sent sharp waves of pain through his arm. It was because of the noise he was making, the kicks and grunts that he didn’t hear the Room’s doors open and close.

You had previously been in the Gryffindor common room, attending one of their parties. There weren’t lots of Ravenclaws there – hell, it was only you, Stiles, Padma, Anthony and Michael. And it was all going well. You were sat on a bean bag chair with Stiles in-between your legs, surrounded by your Gryffindor friends: Ron, Harry, Hermione, Neville and Ginny, with Dean and Seamus on their way to you all with butterbeers in hand. The atmosphere was fun and light – a welcomed escape from the reality surrounding you, but you all decided to enjoy the moment and pretend the world outside the common room didn’t exist for the night. So you sat close to the fire and you didn’t know if the hot flames were warming you up or if it was the fact that Ron was focusing an unusual amount of attention on you.

You’ve had a crush on the Weasley boy since third year, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop your heart from beating faster each time he smiled at you.

You were having a great time.

“And if I become an Animagus to help Scott, then what?” Stiles spoke. Harry shook his head. You puffed. “What? We’d be the new generation of the Marauders; someone has to keep the legacy alive.” He continued, determined.

“Lupin would kill you, mate.” Ron laughed.

“You know animagi don’t pick their animal though, right?” You questioned. Stiles looked up at you and beamed.

“I know. But it’s like, vibe related so I think I’m safe. I’d absolutely be a dog, or a wolf.”

You glanced worryingly at Harry, but the boy simply burst out laughing and denied jokingly. Everyone else hearing the conversation laughed as well.

“Stiles, if it’s vibe related then you’d be a weasel.” You spoke, prompting laughs from everyone. Ron high fived you for the joke and you smiled wider than you thought possible.

The good mood didn’t last long, though. Only moments later Lavender Brown joined the group and comfortably sat herself in Ron’s lap. You watched him give her a quick kiss and wrap his arms around her. “What are we talking about?” She asked and it was as if your ears got covered. The sound faded, your smile dropped, your shoulders slumped. Ron would never like you back, you had to accept that. It was pathetic how you longed for the boy for so long.

So, you excused yourself and left the common room entirely to take a walk. You didn’t expect to end up outside the Room of Requirement, and you didn’t even feel like going inside. But the hall was dark and cold and you began hearing footsteps and the flickering light of Filch’s lantern slowly began illuminating the stone walls and with a haste movement, you went into the Room before Filch could walk around the corner and catch you.

You found yourself in a Room much different from the training grounds you had known while being part of the D.A. Tall piles of clutter seemed to reach the ceiling and despite the room being extremely vast, it felt tiny and crowded because of all the objects tossed and piled everywhere in sight. You walked on a path formed through columns made out of old boxes and books, all piled amongst stacked chairs, empty owl cages and rusty potions equipment. Loud bangs followed by grunts caused you to stop in your tracks and draw out your wand. The room in itself seemed unpredictable, and so you already had about six defensive spells ready to go in your mind and on the tip of your tongue.

You caught a glimpse of platinum blond hair before anything else. It looked messy – very different from the way Draco usually wore it: slick and perfect. Now, it gave you the feeling that he’d been vigorously running his fingers through it, causing it to become tousled. He was only in a white shirt – the robe, vest and tie laid disregarded on a near-by couch.

Lowering your wand, you gently knocked on a table to get his attention.

He turned around in a panic. His hand reached for his wand but stopped midair when he saw you. “What are you doing here?” Draco spat with no hesitation. His heart skipped a beat again, like it did on the night of the Yule Ball.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You responded, glancing at the cabinet in front of him. At the time, you didn’t think anything of it.

“None of your business.”

“I don’t care anyway.” You glared. “This room appeared to me like it did for you and since I think I need it, I’m not leaving.” With your arms crossed, you leaned against a random tossed out piece of furniture.

“Isn’t there a Gryffindor party you should be at?” Draco’s gaze remained cold and the scowl on his face didn’t falter.

“You know about that?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, I know everything that goes on around here.” He broke eye contact by focusing on folding up his sleeves. When his hand began working on his left forearm, he stopped abruptly, remembering. He went stiff at the realization, which you noticed. Before you could speak however, he looked back at you with a smirk, “Was Lavender Brown there so you ran away?” It was as if he didn’t look struck by lightning just two seconds before.

However, his words made you forget his strange behavior. “The hell? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/L/N). Everyone knows you have the hots for Weasley. Least you can do is own up to it.” He teased with a mixture of annoyance and amusement present on his face.

“Piss off, Malfoy.” Walking up to the old couch Draco’s uniform laid on top of, you sat down and watched as the dust flew out of its cushion. Draco groaned. “I’m just gonna nap here until I’m sure Filch left and isn’t near the Ravenclaw tower.”

Draco mumbled some things you didn’t bother to understand, and then silence befell both of you. He didn’t really bother to fight you to leave even though, in retrospect, he should have had. Maybe if you didn’t stay with him that night, he wouldn’t be meeting you in the Room months later with tears burning his eyes. But, to be fair, he couldn’t have known that night. That night, he just rolled his eyes at you breaking the silence ten minutes later, when he thought you were asleep.

“What are you even doing there?”

“I told you, none of your business.” He spat.

“Is that the vanishing cabinet Peeves broke a few years ago?”

Draco turned around. It was his turn to be surprised by your knowledge. “How do you know about that?” He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over your figure as you sat cross-legged on the old couch he napped on countless times before. You wore casual clothes – which he always thought looked great on you, and your hair laid straight over your shoulders. The few candles he had lit around softly luminated your face with warm tones.

You smiled proudly at his question.

“Fred and George shoved Montague in it last year” you laughed “it was quite funny.”

Draco remembered the incident. He was, after all, the one who found Montague stuck in a bathroom after the encounter with the twins.

“You’re trying to fix it, aren’t you?” Draco watched you jump up from the couch and walk next to him to examine the cabinet. He suddenly felt on edge, exposed. The Ravenclaw in you was jumping to solve a problem, while the Slytherin in him was about to explode. “Have you tried a mending charm?”

“Of course, I tried a mending charm.” Draco answered with annoyance in his voice. You rolled your eyes. “It doesn’t work.”

“Well, then- “

“I don’t need nor want your help, (Y/L/N).” He glared down at you. “I can handle it myself.”

“Asshole.” You mumbled before taking a few steps back from Draco. He didn’t turn to you. Instead, he focused on his task even though his mind wasn’t on it anymore. He focused on your footsteps as you began to walk away without another word and before he could overthink, he spoke up softly. “But you can stay, if you want.”

You didn’t stop walking as you answered him. “I don’t.”

Draco then heard you utter “Lumos”, heard your footsteps getting quitter and quieter, then the heavy doors being pulled open. After they closed, he found himself surrounded by silence once again. Not dwelling on it, he pushed the thought of you away and resumed his work. Nothing was more important than his assignment.

Things slowly started to shift after that night.

The next day in Transfiguration as he was zoning out, a paper butterfly landed on his desk. He glanced around the room but saw nobody giving any sign of sending him the note. However, after he opened it and read its contents, his eyes immediately found you. On the paper was a list of incantations that would be useful in repairing things, and he knew you had sent it even though you looked focused on the textbook in front of you. It looked as if you were purposefully trying to ignore him, and Draco allowed the ghost of a smirk to form at the corners of his lips.

Two nights later, Draco walked into the Room of Requirement and you were already there. A few more candles than usual were lit as you sat on the (now clean looking) couch, reading a heavy, dense book. “Have they worked?” you asked without looking up from your book.

Draco sighed, loosening his tie. “No.”

And as time passed, you and Draco began spending more and more time together. Initially, you tried to help him fix the cabinet. It gave you a distraction from Ron and Lavender. But it was also obvious that fixing the old thing was important to him – he seemed desperate and for some reason, you felt like helping. And so, you found yourself sitting close to Draco on that old, tossed out couch with different heavy books resting in your lap every night, both searching for spells that could work. Each few day the space between you decreased until you reached a point where your knees touched and your shoulder pressed into his bicep. Sometimes you could even feel his minty breath on your face – just for a second. But the feeling began to linger even as you walked the stairs up to the Ravenclaw tower late at night.

You also found yourself thinking less and less about Ron.

Then, about a month after the Gryffindor party, the Katie Bell incident took place.

Harry began suspecting Draco of the attack and accused him of being a Death Eater. You didn’t go to the Room of Requirement for a few days after that because honestly, you were scared. You knew, deep in your heart that what Harry was saying made sense and because of that you started to believe that Draco’s cabinet wasn’t just some fun project. You lit on fire all the parchment you had written mending charms on, in a haste and with shaky hands.

You didn’t want to see him after that.

But you found yourself days later sneaking out of the tower late at night, quietly making your way to the seventh floor.

Draco got heavily scolded by Snape for the necklace attempt. The Professor found his action completely foolish and didn’t hesitate to let Draco know that. The boy arrived at the Room feeling beaten, defeated. On top of that, he was met by the empty couch and the broken cabinet and he snapped. In a fit of rage, he broke one of the cabinet’s doors and threw it at the couch. The noise he caused rang through the entire room, momentarily covering the silence. He couldn’t bear the sight of his failure any longer and the thought that you were now possibly scared of him after rumors of him being a Death Eater spread around the school, thanks to Potter, angered him even more.

“Training for the next Triwizard Tournament, Malfoy?”

Your voice made him turn around quickly, surprised look on his face.

A small smile danced at your lips, and you took out your wand. Pointing it at the broken door, you cast out “Repairo,” and the door lifted from the couch, gently levitating towards the cabinet and fixing itself. In the end, it looked as if nothing had happened. “At least this works, otherwise you would’ve had to pick up some muggle skills.” You teased.

Draco let out a small laugh, before his face fell again and he sat down on the dusty floor. His back rested against some other piece of forgotten furniture and he brought his knees up, hugging them to his chest. His head fell back, and he closed his eyes.

You quietly sat next to him with a huff.

“Why are you here?” Draco asked quietly.

After a moment of silence, you answered with honesty “I don’t know.” And you didn’t. You couldn’t understand why, despite the pit in your stomach that took shape as soon as Harry accused Draco of being a Death Eater, you were alone with him in a secret room, late at night.

Opening his eyes, Draco made a quick decision. He placed his left hand on your right knee, squeezing. Your eyes met – he looked calm; you were confused. “Do you trust me?” Draco’s voice was just a whisper. Alas, through the deafening silence of the Room, you heard him loud and clear.

“I don’t know.” You answered again. And, mirroring his impulsive move, you placed a hand over his. He felt cold at the touch and as you got used to the slightly stinging feeling, he found comfort in your warmth. “All I know is that I’m here, for some reason. I felt like seeing you.” You admitted, your voice tender and quiet.

Draco didn’t speak for a while. You thought you embarrassed yourself but didn’t dare to move.

“There are things about me that you really wouldn’t like if you knew.” The boy finally spoke. His eyes were glued to the cabinet that was a few feet from you both, but his mind was miles away. “I’m not a good man.” He admitted with no waver in his tone, no hesitation.

And maybe it was the daily, month-long meetings you’ve had with him. Or maybe it was the flicker of decency you saw in him when he got Pansy to release her painful grip on you the previous year. But your mind dug up small events and information buried deep in your memory that made you frown at his words. You remembered Dobby. Harry told you he was the Malfoy’s house elf who tried to keep him safe during second year, and it all seemed strange to you. You knew that house elves, if owned, could not act on their own volition no matter how strong their beliefs and inclinations were. In your mind it seemed unlikely that Dobby left the Malfoys without their knowledge and so, for the longest time you had a hunch it was Draco who sent Dobby to warn Harry. Especially since Lucius was the one who snuck Tom Riddle’s diary into Hogwarts. You were also quite sure it was Draco who helped Harry figure out the monster from the Chamber of Secrets was a Basilisk.

But overall, you knew Draco didn’t grow up in a good environment. He’d been heavily manipulated his entire life and it was in that moment, as you sat next to him on dirty floors, hand on top of his, that you decided whatever he was doing, he was doing either because of blackmail or manipulation.

“You can’t let the bad things from the past define you,” You whispered as your fingers slowly occupied the empty spaces between Draco’s own fingers. He was quick to grip your hand into his. “I think you are good. You’ve just been dealt shit cards.”

Draco didn’t show any emotion as he processed your words. But that night as he lay in his bed all he could think about were your words. Nobody had told him he was a good person before, and he’d never felt supported before in his life. And he felt a wave of emotions hit him all at once. He felt envy because Potter had had you all this time and because of your friendship with him, Draco didn’t get close to you sooner. He felt jealousy because he remembered you were in the Room in the first place because you were heartbroken over Ron – again, someone he didn’t like had all the things Draco felt he should’ve had instead. He felt comfort knowing you weren’t scared of him despite Potter filling your mind with (true) accusations. He felt hopeless because he was a Death Eater now and you were one of the good guys. He also felt entitled, selfish and determined because for the first time in a while, he found himself wanting something – someone, that he wanted for himself: you.

Over the next few months, you both unintentionally grew closer. Draco remembered every smile, every laugh shared between the two of you in the candlelight, hidden deep inside the Room of Requirement. Most days, he worked alone on the cabinet while you studied and pretended he wasn’t doing something potentially harmful. You both found yourselves finding comfort in the other’s mere presence.

You began to think less about Ron and more about Draco and it made you feel strangely guilty, especially when Ron would throw his arm around you like he used to in the Great Hall and you’d catch Draco’s eyes and excuse yourself to move back to the Ravenclaw table.

On certain nights you attempted to get Draco to do homework with you. But with each passing day, he became more and more anxious and afraid. And with each passing day, it hurt and worried you more and more. On a few occasions you did his Transfiguration homework for him just to keep him out of detention.

He owled you a Merry Christmas note during winter break but told you not to write him back. He knew you wished him happy holidays as well.

You gave him a Christmas present when you got back to Hogwarts – a ring, as you’d noticed he liked wearing them. His face lit up at the gesture and it was the first time he embraced you. The action was impulsive but it felt right. One of his arms wrapped around your lower back, the other cradled your head gently. His face buried in your neck and he held you so tight you didn’t dare move. He held you to make sure you were real and wouldn’t slip away from his grasp.

A little over a month later, Draco was feeling the pressure of his tasks heavier than ever. He felt sick each time he looked at the cabinet and you were noticing that. You were also noticing his complete disinterest in school and his reoccurring absences. He’d spend days in the Room, not even coming down to eat. You snuck him meals each time you could but sometimes you’d find them untouched on the floor.

“Alright, Draco. What’s going on?” You confronted him one night.

“Nothing.” He mumbled. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” you pleaded “Draco you’re not acting like yourself please, tell me what’s going on so I can help.” You never pleaded with a man before, never thought you would. Your ego felt too strong for this. And yet, there you were, standing behind a disheveled Draco Malfoy with an ache in your chest.

He ignored you.

You felt like throwing something at his head.

You watched as he opened the cabinet doors and took out a rotten apple. He held it in his hand for a second too long. It wasn’t unusual, you’ve watched him do this repeatedly over the past five months. You flinched when he threw the apple on the floor with vicious force. He then kicked the bottom of the cabined a bunch of times, yelling out in anger and frustration. His scream echoed through the Room. You pursed your lips.

“I can’t do this.” He finally spoke. “I can’t bloody do this and everyone’s going to die.” He started pacing around the small clearing amidst clutter. “My mum, my dad, me…you – we’re all going to die.” He kicked the plate of food you had brought him a few hours prior, spilling the contents over the floor.

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s gonna kill you and mum in front of me, make me watch,” He was frantic “probably gonna torture you first so I die remembering your screams. Then,” he pinched his nose, wiped his mouth “then he’ll kill me. I’ll be last and everyone’s gonna be taking the piss out of me, the fucking kid who couldn’t fix a fucking,” he kicked the cabinet again “magic fucking cabinet!” he kicked and kicked until you could feel the pain he felt in his leg yourself.

You walked up to him and attempted to pull him away from the large wooden broken object, but he pushed you away forcefully. You stumbled back in shock. “How dare – “ You couldn’t finish your sentence, however. He hastily turned to face you, pulling up the sleeve of his left arm aggressively, exposing the Dark Mark.

No words came out of your mouth after that.

You couldn’t seem to peel your eyes off of the mark, and Draco watched you with a pained heart. Part of him expected you to run, another to pull out your wand and attack. He didn’t know which one was coming, he didn’t know which one he preferred. However, he didn’t expect you to walk up to him with slow, steady steps.

His eyes locked with yours as you took his arm into your own. It was as if the Room emptied and the only things in it were the two of you. Holding his arm to your chest, you got as close to him as possible. As he looked down at you, his heavy breath fanned your face. “It’s okay, Draco.” You whispered. “I understand.”

And you did. You understood his choice, understood the position he was forced into. And your heart ached for him.

That’s the night Draco remembered best. The way your figure was illuminated by the soft glow of yellow candles, the soft fabric of your sweater rubbing on his skin. The kindness in your eyes spreading warmth through his veins, the way your lips moved when you spoke his name. Most times he thought about conjuring a Patronus, Draco believed the memory of that night was what he needed to focus on in order to succeed.

With his hand on the back of your head, he quickly lowered himself to reach your height and caught your lips in a kiss. He felt you smiling into it and he found himself mirroring you, until you pulled away to giggle into his shoulder. He couldn’t do anything besides kissing the top of your head.

Days later you were both laying on the couch you had transformed into a cozy spot. You were focused on his Mark, tracing your fingers along the lines of it, gently. Draco knew he was supposed to feel pride in having the Mark – that’s what his family had told him, but he felt something close to shame each time he looked at it.

You rested your hand on top of it, covering it. “I’m sorry. But we’ll figure it out.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

A week later he was forced into the meeting with his mom and Snape at the Shrieking Shack. The following night he walked towards the Room of Requirement late, with heavy steps. It felt as if each movement he made on the way happened in slow-motion.

You were reading comfortably when he finally reached you. A smile formed on your lips upon seeing him, but it faded when you took in his appearance, his sour face, hardened figure, stone gaze. “What’s wrong?”

Draco didn’t speak, only pointed his wand towards you. You froze. “Draco?” His hand shook, his face wavered. You were confused.

“I have to do this, (Y/N). He’ll kill you otherwise.” Draco’s voice cracked.

“No, he won’t. You’re a skilled Occlumentist, right? He can’t get into your mind.” You immediately caught on.

He shook his head. “He’ll know, he’ll know. Snape knows, mum knows,” he sounded so scared that you attempted to get up to comfort him, but he threated so you sat back down “he’ll know.”

Tears formed and blurred your vision as your heart picked up speed.

“You know, I didn’t wanna think about you, I wanted to stay focused. I came here to do a task, that’s it. I came to be great, to do great things for the Dark Lord.” Draco began, “But then I saw you. I’ve wanted you since fourth year and then here you were, being good to me and…you woke up a weakness inside me. And I got selfish, I put my mission aside to get something for myself.”

Tears now ran down your face, and Draco mirrored you. You shook your head, silently pleading for him to reconsider.

“But I have a mission, (Y/N) and it’s so important. I can’t be distracted. And I can’t have you being associated with me – it’ll get you killed and I can’t – I can’t have it.”

The candles flickered and for a split second your mind went to a Divination class, where Trelawney explained candle magic. Their dancing light showed instability, chaotic energy while its tall flame indicated success brought about with complications. The air felt cold as you stared at Draco who hadn’t fully stepped into the candlelight. An abyss of darkness stood tall behind him, the sights of it deepening the pit in your stomach. Despite his shaky hands, dark circles underneath his saddened eyes and hollow cheeks, Draco looked put-together. His hair wasn’t messy like it was the first night you found him in the Room. It was back to its slick, flawless style. He wore his all-black suit, and his tie wasn’t loosened.

“I also can’t have you walk out of here knowing everything about me.” His voice hardened and for the first time while being with him, you felt fear.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Your voice was small. You sat up, your eyes beginning to look for a way out.

“I can’t risk it, you’re friends with Potter. You’re one of the good guys.”

“I won’t put you in danger, Draco.”

He grimaced at your words as if they’ve hit him with the force of a Cruciatus Curse. He tried not to let any more tears fall. You took his reaction as an opportunity to get closer to him. Maybe if you could take away his wand, touch him. Maybe then you could change his mind.

“I won’t endanger you either,” He whispered. “That’s why I have to do this.” At that, he lowered his wand and took two long strides towards you. Another one of his unpredictable actions that left you frozen in your spot. In a swift motion, he cupped your face between his calloused palms. “You know this is the right choice.”

“No,” you whispered and shook your head “no, it’s not. You can teach me Occlumency, I can help you,” your fearful eyes bore into his saddened ones, his heart ached at your words, at the fear he was capable of instilling in you. “We’re a good team, remember? I can help.” You kept pleading as your own hands rested on top of his. You felt the ring you’d given him still on his finger.

He simply shook his head with a small, almost unnoticeable smile on his face. “I’ve already corrupted you enough.” Draco admitted and you were taken aback; rendered speechless. “You’ve been covering for me with your friends, lying to Professors, basically doing my homework while I’m working on bringing the school down.”

Your heart dropped; hands started shaking. Draco felt it. He felt the weight of his words starting to crush you. Down in your mind you knew he was doing something bad with the cabinet, but you didn’t think it was so drastic.

Draco continued. Hurt her to save her, his mom’s words rang through his mind. “I’m using the Vanishing Cabinet to bring Death Eaters into Hogwarts,” his words made you remember the Death Eaters attack at the Quidditch World Cup, where you were almost trampled. You remembered the attack on London that sent one of your family members to the Hospital. You remembered how ruthless the Death Eaters were at the Ministry, when they were throwing deadly curses at a bunch of teenagers.

And there it was.

The look of betrayal, hurt and fear on your face that Draco never wanted to see. He tried to remember the night you saw his Mark, the night you accepted and comforted him. That’s what he wanted to remember, not this. “After I get them here, I’m going to kill Dumbledore.” He continued.

Chills erupted on your body and you recoiled from his touch.

“I knew you were planning something bad, but this, Draco?” You couldn’t speak louder than a whisper as you took small steps away from him. He knew this was coming; the disgust, the unacceptance. Was your speech about understanding him all bullshit? “You don’t have to- “

“Yes, I do. It’s my mission.”

“No, listen to me. You’re not this person, you’re not a Death Eater. I know you, Draco. You’re still a good person put in a terrible situation but it’s not all lost, we can-“ Despite your fear, you still found yourself comforting him, pleading with him. Your mind lead an inner battle between understanding the boy’s motives and wanting to let Harry know of everything that was happening.

You couldn’t let Dumbledore die, couldn’t let Death Eaters attack Hogwarts.

“I cursed Katie Bell. Almost killed her.” Draco cut you off.

“I know.” You deadpanned. He parted his lips and frowned in confusion. “I saw the necklace in your bag a week before it all happened. Then I saw it on McGonagall’s desk. It wasn’t hard to piece together the puzzle.” You explained.

Despite the warmth spreading through his heart at the thought of you not abandoning him even after knowing that all those months ago, at the thought that he’d finally found someone to be on his side for once in his life, someone who understood and maybe even actually loved him – despite it all, Draco’s eyes had never showed less emotion.

You wanted to cry but didn’t. Your ego won.

“You know I have to do this, (Y/N).” His voice didn’t waver anymore. The more reasons you gave him to love you, the more his decision solidified in his mind. “And you know I’m doing the right thing,” he wanted to hold you so bad, but he didn’t move; instead, you both stood feet away from each other. “Knowing all this puts you in danger. Coming here every night puts you in danger hell, even looking at me in the Great Hall puts you in danger. I can’t see you brought into the manor tied up, imprisoned and killed as a punishment for me. And you know I’m right. I’m not just some irrelevant follower, I’ve sat at a damn table with The Dark Lord countless times this summer. He’s been in my home; he knows me personally.”

You couldn’t look at him the more he spoke. So, your gaze was stuck on a candle, but your eyes remained unfocused.

“You’re smart.” Draco kept speaking, his tone now loud and confident. “This is the part where you tell me that even though you wanna change my mind, you know I’m doing the right thing,” he even joked. You wanted to cry but couldn’t speak. He was right. “Tell me you’re proud of me because I’m putting someone else’s wellbeing above my own for once” his voice became muffled, as if he spoke from underwater. It was silent for a moment as Draco watched you process his words, “You’ll be on the right side of history after this. You’ll go back to Weasley who’s a better choice for you than I could ever be – even though it kills me to say that.”

All you could do was shake your head in disbelief.

By the time you looked back up at him, he had a few tears running down his face and his wand pointed at you. And so you cried.

“We were a good team, weren’t we?” Draco spoke with one last saddened smile.

“Draco, please. I love –“ you began, but Draco couldn’t bear hear it.

You watched Draco wipe his tears with a swift motion, before a white light formed at the tip of his wand. His voice came out strong, unwavering, and determined. His hand stopped shaking.

“Obliviate,” Draco uttered before you could react.

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy imagines #harry potter #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x reader #ron weasley #ron weasley imagine #hhtsh

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parkers-gal · 3 years

Note

Heyy. Could you repost the fic where reader announces She s pregnant but gets scared that Peter will reject her so she breaks up with him? (I had requested part 2 of the 2 parts if I'm not wrong.) You don't have to ofc! Love you 💙💙

yep, i’ll post part two too!

—

warnings: lol pregnancy, slight angst, cursing (characters are all 18+)

wc: 2k

There was a fine line between a lot of things, but being pregnant and not being pregnant was not one of those things. In hindsight, maybe Midtown should have told the students which condom brands were least effective, or maybe even May or Pepper. And just by luck, Y/N happened to have skipped her birth control pills for two days in a row, the two days she spent entirely with Peter. And now, though she didn't know it was inevitable, she was facing consequences she thought would come much later in life, if at all.

What would her parents say? How would Peter even react? Would she keep it? Would Peter support her either way?

She didn't want to find out the answers to any of the questions flying through her mind. In all honesty, she didn't want to ask the questions at all. Instead, she sat on the bathroom floor, leaning against the cabinets as she let tears slip in realization that this was going to change her life forever.

Wiping off a few last stray tears, she tucked the test into the back of the cabinet before getting up and leaving the bathroom, grabbing her purse and making her way to the front door.

"Y/N, honey? Are you alright?" Her mother asked right before she left. "You were in there an awful long time, hun."

"'m fine, mom, just thinking. I'll be back, probably gonna get more of my stuff."

Y/N was just in the middle of moving out and into her own apartment. She was corning her last year of college, and she figured it was best to slowly transition into her own life as an independent adult. As of right now, her apprenticeship wasn't the best she could get, so she was only moving into the Avengers tower with the rest of the team until she got the promotion her mentor promised her. Despite being an avenger, she didn't actually work for Tony or Bruce, and she didn't depend on them as much as Peter did. She was still close with all of them, though.

Walking through the double doors, she gave a small nod and smile to George, the man who stood on guard at the entrance of the tower. Making her way to the elevators, she pressed the button and debated on what she was going to say to Peter.

The living quarters of the tower were two main floors, but the central living center had the kitchen, so most Avengers stayed there until "curfew," as Tony had called it.

Making her way through the halls, she passed the kitchen, where Bucky, Sam, Steve, Wanda, and Natasha were located, talking and drinking what must've been one of Steve's old fashioned drinks.

"Hey, Y/N," they greeted her individually. In response, she only nodded, trying to get to Peter as fast as possible. Furrowed brows and wide eyes they were, shocked at how closed off she was being. It was only when she left the room that Wanda gasped, staring at the spot Y/N had just been on.

"What?" Nat said quickly, urgently. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Back in Peter's room, Y/N had just knocked, Peter granting her access and she stepped inside, clutching her purse close to her as her breathing quickened and her pulse increased.

"Hey, babe," Peter said, his back to her as he fiddled with something on the bookshelf.

"P- .. Peter, we need to talk."

At this, he spun around, glancing in her eyes to try and decipher what she was thinking and what she was about to say. What came next was not what he expected.

"Okay."

"We need to break up."

"W-what? Why? I though- I thought w-"

"We just need to break up- I'm breaking up with you," she rushed out.

"Baby, come on, let's talk about this. Tell me why. Did I do something? Did something happen? I can make it better, I can change- make things right, c'mon don't just-"

"Peter I'm breaking up with you," she said, her voice cracking as she finally allowed the tears to flood her eyes. Peter was full on crying as she turned around and left his room. Thirty seconds passed before he went sprinting out of the room after her.

Wanda and Natasha had called just about every Avenger into the compound's kitchen, and just in time to see Y/N leaving with tearful eyes and Peter chasing after her.

Wanda hadn't explained to anyone what she had read in Y/N's mind. Though they knew something was up, they weren't prepared to witness the action of the words (or thoughts).

"Y/N," Peter breathed out. "Y/N!" he said again, gripping her wrist to spin her around. "Why? Why the fuck would you just drop that? What happened to us?"

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Parker."

"I'm not! I just want to know why the girl I'm in love with is leaving me so sudden! Don't you think I at least deserve to know why?"

A few more tears fell down her face before she exhaled. "I wish.. I wish I could tell you, Peter."

"Well why don't you?!"

"I- I can't."

"Did you stop loving me? Was that it? Did I do something?"

"I didn't stop loving you. I could never stop loving you-"

"Then why are you giving up on us?!" Peter exclaimed with defeat, both of his hands pulling at his hair before covering his face as he started crying again.

Y/N stepped forward, hesitantly about to reach out to console him before deciding against it and leaving altogether.

When she was gone, Wanda breathed loudly, Natasha doing the same.

"Peter.." Nat said, walking towards him slowly. "Are you... alright-?"

"She just- did it!" Peter whined out, abruptly cutting her off. Natasha rushed forward to catch him and he gripped her tight as he cried out to whichever god cursed him.

"We need to talk," Wanda whispered to Nat, before filing out and leaving the two alone.

***

"What the fuck was that about?" Sam exclaimed in the training room. The Avengers had resorted to the gym for some privacy, knowing neither Y/N nor Peter would come willingly unless they had scheduled training, which neither did.

"Seriously, though," Bucky replied. "They were doing so well, things were going so great-"

"Okay everyone just sit down!" Wanda exclaimed, pacing back and forth as Natasha stood next to her, rubbing her forehead in thought.

"Do you know why?" Steve asked after a moment.

When Wanda didn't vocalize her response, merely making guilty eye contact, the Avengers knew.

"Of course you know," Bruce said.

"Okay, what's this about?" Tony said, coming through the doors, a few minutes late.

"Y/N just broke up with Peter," Loki stated blandly.

"What the fuck?"

"I know, right?" Steve said, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and sympathy for the pair.

"And.." Tony glanced back and forth between Nat and Wanda and the rest of the crew. "Wanda knows?"

"Mhmm," Nat hummed.

"Well, wouldn-"

"Y/N is pregnant," Wanda blurted out.

The silence that overcame the group was deafening. Pure shock and surprise were overwhelming emotions as the heroes struggled to wrap their minds around the realization, the truth.

"Holy fuck," Sam whispered.

"That's why.. she broke up with Pete?" Bucky said.

"Mhmm," Wanda hummed back quickly. "I could feel the anxiety she had. I think she let it get the best of her. She was still in shock, still panicking. I don't think she's known for long."

"We have to do-"

"No, we don't do anything. Nobody says a thing, nobody does a thing," Natasha informed strictly. "I swear to fuck if any of you do something I will come for you myself. Let Wanda and me handle this. You all don't know the start about female anatomy."

"Yes, ma'am," Bucky replied, the others nodding in agreement.

***

About a week later, Y/N was walking into the training room. She saw Steve, Natasha, Peter, Tony, and Bucky standing around talking about something, and as much as she wanted to avoid him, she also knew that she had to attend training.

"Hey, Y/N/N," Tony greeted. "I'm making some schedule changes."

"Okay.." she said after a moment, putting her bag on the bench as she glanced at his clipboard before making eye contact again.

"Pete, you're in for four days a week, each a two hour session. You'll spar with Steve for two sessions, five mile runs with Nat, power training with Bucky and Sam, you know the drill."

"Y/N," he started, flipping a page. "I'm.. cutting your sessions to thirty minutes each. Only twice a week."

"What the fuck, why, Tony?" She asked.

"Yeah, that seems unreasonable and unfair. She gets less time and I get more?" Peter joined.

"Well, I just want to be cautious with the baby on the way and all that," Tony said nonchalantly.

Time seemed to freeze as the group went dead silent, all except for Peter.

"Baby? What baby? What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked, glancing between Tony and Y/N. "Y/N? Ar- are you- are you pregnant?"

She closed her eyes and exhaled, her hands clammy and sweaty as they were balled into fists.

"I'-I'm..."

"Is that why you broke up with me?" he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as the realization hit him. "You thought you'd leave me before I had the chance to do that do you?"

"I can't do this right now," Y/N breathed, rushing out of the room. Peter ran after her, and Natasha punched Tony in the arm once they had left.

"Y/N, Y/N!" Peter exclaimed, catching up to her and spinning her around. "Is it true?"

She closed her eyes before nodding again. When she opened her lids, her eyes were glossy and red, "Yeah."

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he whispered, voice cracking.

"I don't- I don't know, Peter! I was so afraid you were going to break up with me or leave me or that you were going to hate me if I didn't keep it or that my parents would disown me or some shit like that! I just did it first to avoid it all."

"Avoid it all?" Peter repeated. "I love you, Y/N," he stated, grabbing both of her hands. "A baby isn't going to change that, whether you keep it or you don't. It's your body, so it's your choice," he said, and her head rolled in disbelief as she sighed. "I love you," he stated again, tightening his grip on her hands. "And you're carrying my baby. Did you ever think I'd be happy?"

"Peter we're so young, basically fresh out of high school-"

"I know it's unplanned, Y/N, and that makes it so scary. But I would never abandon you like that."

"I really love you, Peter," Y/N huffed out, her tears beginning to free fall now.

"I know baby," Peter said while pulling her into his chest and embracing her for the first time in a week.

After a few moments, Y/N's breathing evened out and Peter spoke up. "Are... are you going to keep it?" he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

Her throat was sticky from crying, and after a few seconds, she answered. "I am."

Peter held her at arm's length to look at her, really look at her, and he kneeled down and kissed her stomach, voicing his excitement and feelings.

The Avengers, who were watching from the doorway of the training room, smiled in relief, a few of them wiping stray tears and rubbing their eyes to regain their composure.

"God they're growing up," Tony whispered.

"Not just yet," Pepper fired back, glancing at the pair before grinning herself, thankful they were in this together.

(part two is out)

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arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years

Text

Treasure Hunter AU

I binged watch the Mummy trilogy while i had no wifi/internet for a while and I had an idea for a treasure hunter Mari with Daminette.

--------

Damian was bored.(age: 22-28 years old.)

At a gala party.

Meets Marinette who was equally bored.(abt the same age as D)

He finds out she was the finder of this famous artifact on display.

-----

Damian tugged at his collar, scanning the crowd. His father needed a plus one to show up with and everyone else were busy.

He grabbed a champagne flute and made his way to the edge of the room.

He found a woman in a black evening gown, looking as bored as he felt. short dark hair. Blue eyes.( I suck at describing people after the third time doing it. It feels overrated)

"Hello, stranger. You bored with mingling in with the assholes on their high horses?"

"Should I be offended?"

"We will see. Depends on you."

"How about you? A beautiful lady like you not kissing up their asses to climb the social ladder. That is strange."

She made a face. "Trust me. I don't want to be here but my friend wanted family time so I came in his place. What about you? Why are you here?"

"I am pretty sure my father wanted someone to get him out if the vultures came too close."

"Vultures, adept descriptions. I am glad no one realized who I am yet or i would be in their claws."

"Who are you representing, anyways?"

"Myself but Adrien or Kagami usually comes in my place but tonight, they have their son's play to go to."

"Adrien and Kagami. Aren't they the Agreste-Tsrungi?"

"Yep."

"You are the Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Globe trotting Treasure hunter and also world-class designer, MDC."

"Now you know. What's your name, handsome stranger?"

"You don't know?"

"Hey. Like you said globetrotting treasure hunter. I am not up-to-date on the news front. And when I am in Paris to do designer stuff, i am too busy to look at the news."

He gave her his hand, "Damian Wayne. Son of Bruce Wayne who is a billionaire and owns Wayne Enterprise."

She shook it.

"Pleased to meet you."

She stills design but like sent her designs to Adrien at least once every month, who had rebranded Gabriel to Miraculous Designs.

Some ppl thinks he did it to spite his father, who is in jail. Adrien and Mari has a partnership thing.

Mari also makes clothes but for a few months. And the rest of the time is spent travelling.

Exclusive designs from MDC are rare but the designs hand made by her are rarer so they are like a really big deal. They have the most amazing details. Really expensive and limited edition.

The rest of the time Mari spends finding Miraculouses (Miraculi ?) lost in the world so if she happens to find a few priceless artifacts that aren't the Miraculous. She donates it.

Alix helps and sometimes go find them with her.

She has Tikki and Plagg and maybe Wyazz all the time to look for curses and counter it.

She has also met John Constantine. They have an arrangement of sorts. A few magical artifacts that doesn't have to Miraculous business are given to him in exchange for any miraculous stuff he has or found.

Adrien funds her trips.

He is married to Kagami.

Kagami goes with Mari and Alix for a few months sometimes. Adrien likes being a stay at home dad.

Their kid is named Marin/Martin because it was Mari who got them together.

The few trips Mari dragged him on was enough to make him stay behind and run the business.

(Back to the story) Damian fangirled a little because Mari had been doing stuff like this since she was 18.

It was an amazing reputation she has.

She invites him to her next trip after questioning his skill sets.

------

"Are you good with heights, dark scary places and adventuring into the unknown?"

"Yes"

"You any good with guns, swords, knives, booby traps and keeping calm under pressure?"

"Yes. I have many experiences with them."

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes. Why are you asking me this?"

"Wanna join me on my next trip to the jungle of China? There are myths about some hidden temple."

------

Damian was a little conflicted.

He hadn't have the chance to explore the world much. He had been somewhere else for a mission (for the League of Shadows or JL business) but never for pleasure.

Being a vigilante by night and working at Wayne Enterprise by day gets a little boring after some years.

His brothers had a chance to travel the world on their own for a while. Sure, for reasons other than sight-seeing and looking for something to break out of the rut he was in. But still.

This was an exciting opportunity but a tad suspicious.

-----

"Why me?"

She looked surprised at that.

"Oh. Well, my friends enjoy coming with me on my adventures, treasure hunting and all that every now and then except Adrien but they have other things in their life to come with me all the time. I can mostly survive on my own most of the time but it gets lonely travelling on my own and it's nice if someone is there to watch my back. I understand if you don't want to come. It's just that I enjoy your company and you aren't like those assholes on their high horses. My gut feeling says I can trust you. You are not after the treasure or see it as one big game. You are looking for an escape. You would definitely catch me if I fall. As you know from my choice of friends, i have a bad habit of pulling rich kids from their stuffy lifestyle and take them on potentially life-threatening adventures." She joked. Then she lowered her voice, "Besides, it might be handy having a former assassin around."

She said in Arabic.

His hand went to his hidden knife and found it not there.

"Looking for this?" She said, holding it.

"How much do you know?" He hissed back in the same language.

"Relax," she gave back the knife, "my mother was one and I have accidentally came across a few in my adventures. I know one when i see one. I took a stab in the dark with your middle-eastern background. Speaking of, you know Talia Al Ghul by any chance."

He narrowed his eyes.

"She's my mother. Why?"

"You look like her. Met her a few times. Nice lady but scary. Mine's Sabine Cheng, goes by the Blue Reaper." She said it so casually like their parents weren't dangerous deadly assassins and had normal jobs.

"You aren't normal, are you?"

"What gave it away?"

"That you willingly gave away blackmail material to me."

"Normal people don't have assassins for mothers. And you and me aren't exactly meeting the minimum standards for normal. Besides, I just told you a family secret that you would have found out anyways with a through background search and a little digging. So far all I know about you is that your parents are Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne-I wonder how an assassin got together with a billionaire-, you are a former League of Shadows assassin, you are great with weapons, keeping secrets and so far meeting the criteria for an adventure buddy. That's all I swear. And that you have some pets. A cat, maybe."

"How you know about my cat?!"

"Cat hair on your clothes." She was good. "If it will ease your mind about me, you can ask me 5 questions that I will truthfully answer. "

"So why are you doing this?"

"That's question 1. Well, I really want whatever this is between us to work. Partners, Friends, Companions, Comrades. Whatever you want to call it. Like I said, I get lonely sometimes and need some human interaction to at least keep myself sane. You looked like you want to be somewhere else and I thought this is perfect. I am not going to tell anyone about you or push you to join me. I swear on my mother's sword."

"Are we killing anybody?"

"Mostly I try to avoid that as much as possible. Sometimes I get into situations with no other alternative. " She looked away guiltily.

"Fair enough."

"Not judging me for that. That's a first for me."

"I am a former assassin and have killed before. I have no right to condemn you for your past."

"How much are you willing to tell me about this hidden temple?"

"That has to do with a secret. I would tell you more when there are less ears around. But this temple was said to hold a magic jewel that grants some powers and it is located really deep in the jungle. Getting there might take months."

"You forgot to mention that last one."

"Oh yeah. You think you can get away for some months. This kind of stuff usually takes a while. Like I said before, no pressure. Anyway, 2 questions left."

"What's my salary?"

"Aren't you a billionaire?"

"My father is. I have a trust fund and I get a salary for doing my job at the company. You are lucky that I just finished with most of my assigned projects so I might be able to come."

"I am so sorry about just assuming things about you. You can say no to the offer. The temple is said to hold some other treasures but I mainly want the jewel. We could auction off a few bits and pieces. I usually just donate them to museums and universities or sell them to those who really appreciate the history. I would also pay for the entire expenses for the trip."

"Can I think about this?"

"Sure. Here's my number. I leave on the 1st of next month. Gimme an answer a week before that so I can make the proper arrangements. It has been fun talking to you, Damian."

She walked away, going towards the buffet table.

------

Back in the car on the way home to the manor.

Bruce asked, "Who were you talking to for that long?"

"Who?"

"The one that gave you her number."

"Oh. MDC. She invited me to join her in China next month to find some hidden temple."

"She did?"

"Yes. Not only that she found out about mother and know what I did before I came here. She doesn't know about Batman, Robin or Crow. And she said she wasn't going to blackmail me but just wanted a companion to go with her. Ideally, it would be best to silence her before she digs any further into me but I trust her. I sincerely believe that she meant it when she said that she's not going to tell on me. And I am really tempted to take up on it."

"What do you want to do?"

"On one hand, i would be gone for months so there won't be Crow in Gotham for a while and I have a few projects I need to finish up. On the other hand. Father, I have been a vigilante for over 10 years now and I haven't really done much out besides that, school and now work. I have appreciated all you have done for me over the years. But I want to go with her. Do something that is not connected to Batman or Wayne or Al Ghul. Just a little something different for myself."

"You can go if you want. I am not going to stop you. I will make arrangements so the projects would be done by someone else. The others can cover your patrols. You are still young so it is understandable to want some fun every now and then."

"Thank you, Father."

Bruce put his hand on his shoulder.

"I am proud of you as Crow and as Damian Wayne. But if you want to go find some hidden temple in China just for a break from this life, to be just Damian, go for it. There are worse things you could do. Just tell me if you are going to go on any future trips like that." (I don't know DC much, sorry if that is a little OOC but I like good dad! Bruce.)

-------

Damian dialed the number on the card.

"Hello"

"I accept your offer, miss MDC."

"Damian? Right, text me your email address. I will sent you things you would need to pack and flight details. And can you come by to the Gotham Rose Hotel tomorrow? I will give more details on the temple."

-------

Damian comes by the hotel.

Marinette tells him of the kwamis and miraculous and makes him swear to not tell anyone unless they already know.

The hidden temple actually might have a miraculous.

Damian gets a little interested in the akuma situation she mentioned.

Mari doesn't say anything about it much.

When he got back, he goes to the Bat-computer and did some digging.

Ladybug looks a little familiar. Pulls up younger picture of Mari and look at that, she used to be a superhero.

Wonder Woman was kept informed of things and made sure no one goes to Paris without her knowing.

Zatanna helped capture the villain Hawkmoth and end his 2 year reign.

Fast forward, they are in Beijing now, sleeping off jetlag.

The next morning, They get out of the city somehow to the city limits and somewhere remote.

Mari uses Kalki and transports them to the jungle.

They set up camp. Cue Campfire stories.

-----

"I thought getting here would take months."

"No actually, finding the temple would. According to my research and the map I copied through less than legal means, it is somewhere in this general area. There used to a city around here too and the king or emperor pissed off some powerful priest or wizard, take your pick. There was a curse. The city crumbled down and the temple is the only thing standing because the king went there and prayed to the gods for protection. The one who answered his prayers and protected the temple in doing so the king was pressed into service of the god. The king did everything the god said for a while but later, he started to hate it and began disobeying the orders. The god cursed him for his disobedience. The temple he was protected in became his tomb and he was tasked to protect the chest inside the temple for the rest of eternity. Anyone who opens the chest would gain the ultimate power to rule the earth. Thankfully, we are not after the chest. Some powerful crack-head with a misused miraculous tried to find it and open the chest for more power. But he never returned. My theory is that the miraculous is still in the temple. As long as we don't wake up the king or go for the chest, we would be okay."

"What are the guns for? And How did you get them past security?"

"In case of emergencies, an army of undead was mentioned and guns are surprisingly good repellent. Well, most of the time. It's useless if there is a no weapons can kill 'it' rule. Then, it's just a stress reliever. I kept them in a pocket dimension. Makes it easier to get around."

Damian vowed to never let Marinette meet Jason. Judging by the pile of guns and occasional knives and other weapons she took out of the brown satchel which apparently holds a pocket dimension, Jason would adopt her. He wondered if that was all that was inside in.

-------

They packed up and started searching the jungle for hidden temple.

It was a month and a half before they found it.

They bonded a lot during that time.

They had a moment after drinking a little alcohol which Mari has in the pocket dimension. Or Drank a lot of alcohol and had sex.

It was awkward and they both agree to not talk about it again.

Soon after, they found the temple. But it is still a little far away.

But the temple is not the only thing they found. They also found a campsite with many people milling around. Some of them carried guns.

Somewhat rich bastard who overheard their conversation at the gala. Heard treasure and found out where Mari's next expedition is.

Had the help of some scholar who wants to be famous for the greatest find since King Tut.

They found the temple even though they had no magical help, they left 2 weeks before Mari did, so yeah.

Rich Bastard's name is 'Philip Anderson'(This sounds familiar to me for some reason and I can't find out why.) and Scholar is 'Harry Scott'

They have armed bodyguards and some 'hired' help to get the treasure.

Anderson is still rich but his company had been getting losses the past 2 years and this is a quick, easy get rich scheme.

Mari and Damian: "Rich asshole on his high horse."

Anderson doesn't know about the chest but Mari and Damian thinks he does and it was what he was after.

They set up camp a little further ahead of Anderson's

Unfortunately, they were found by Harry. Somehow.

-----

I am going to continue this when I am more awake.

#damian x marinette #daminette #maribat #mlb x dc #treasurehunter! Mari #explorer!Mari #there isn't much of this

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kaz11283 · 3 years

Text

Of Course I'm Here

Characters: Come on you know by now how this goes (Loki x you) (Team x you, platonic)

Warnings: None. And really if you ever see anything that I might need to able as a warning please let me know... I'm the person who forgets there are people out there that get offened by the word F*** if that is an exapmle of anything.

Summary: Mid battle and the avengers keep looking for an answer as to why the God of Lies hasnt showed up yet. Of course you have no idea but at least he proves them all wrong.

ANNOUNCEMENT TIME: hey guys Im back, I know it hasnt been long but I also know I havent been posting every single day like I was, i got into a weird little funk where I didnt want to do anything, I was just feeling completly drained, and I felt bad because I have my little and I didnt even want to play with her because I have just been so TIRED, but I'm feeling better. Work has been kicking my ass here lately and ive been working over 50 hours a week so ive literally been coming in, eatting / feeding the little, getting us ready for bed, and crashing as soon as she falls asleep. But im here now. I will probably be more active on weekends than during the week because I have more time to spend working on stuff but I will be posting also during the week just not daily. At least until after state comes. Thank you so much for the reblogs, likes, comments, follows, and messages please keep them coming! If you would like to be tagged please ask or message, and requests are open. Love you guys so much! 💚💚💚💚💚

Loki Masterlist

~~~~~

"Y/N, BACK UP I NEED BACK UP! EYES IN THE SKY!" Tony yelled from above, you and Clint stood back to back on a roof top shooting as many bad guys as you could. Clint took aim at another carrier, shooting at the engine causing the entire thing to blow up raining debris and hot metal around you.

"Damnit Clint! Farther away make sure they are farther away!" You yelled popping him on the head with an arrow before aiming it at the thing that was chasing Tony.

"Where is lover boy at? You.sent him the location right?" Nat asked into the com.

"Yes I sent him the location, no I dont know where hes at." You mocked.

"Did you send him the right location?" Sam asked.

"One time, one dam-"

"Language!" Steve chimed in causing everyone to groan. Gun shots where ringing all around you and you could here metal on metal paired with Hulk screams coming from another building over.

"Language." You mocked muting your com son that no one but Clint heard you. "I am a 26 year old woman, I think I'm old enough to cuss if I want." You drew back your bow and sent another arrow flying into another goon that had Nat trapped aginst a wall. She shot you a thumbs up before running off. You hit unmute on your com.

"Jesus, 26? Baby, you sure you don't need to be at a babysitter instead of on a building killing things?" He laughed.

"Dont worry Hawk, when we get done here I've already booked you a nice nursing home to be put into." You put your bow around you and stood on the edge of the building. "I need a better view." You looked round, the top of a taller building caught you eye. "There Hawk, we can cover a better radius from up there, get closer to the action."

"DOES ANYONE KNOW WHEN THE GODS ARE GOING TO BE HERE? WE NEED MORE HELP WERE GETTING TIRED AND OUT NUMBERED!" Tony came over the coms screaming.

"How do we get up there? Or do I even wanna know?" Hawk came to examin where you were talking about.

"Im jumping, you cant tell me that someone wont catch me." You shrug.

"GODS WHERE ARE TH- Y/N DONT YOU DARE JUMP!" Tony stopped and hovered right were you was standing.

"Then take us over there. We need higher ground, we cant cover everyone from down here." You crossed your arms.

"Where are the gods at y/n?" He asked again

"I. Dont. Know. Jesus you guys act like I'm suppose to be there keeper!" A simultaneous you are came from everone through the com causing you to roll your eyes. "Hes gonna be here I swear it! Now take me to the building or I jump. 1.....2....-" Tony grabbed you by the collar of your jacket and flew you to the building.

God these things were everywhere and you were starting to run out of arrows. After shooting another ship and causing it to blow you heard what was unmistakably pounding on the roof top door leading to where you currently was at.

"I have some univited guests about to join my party. Anyone available for some assistance?" You yanked out the two emerald green and silver daggars that your boyfriend had given you not long after you had started dating after throwing your bow around you.

"Buy some time kid, I'm on ground level right now but I can try to get up there as fast as possible." Bucky called over the com.

"Buy some time? Ok. I can do this. I work better from afar but a little hand to hand never hurt anyone, just easier to get stabbed this way." The first of the things busted through the door running straight at you. You jerked out of the way missing his staff by just a few inches. Quickly turning you flipped the dagger like Loki had showed you and stabbed him in his side causing him to fall to the ground before the next one tried to impale you.

"I have two daggers and they have freaking staffs! Back up! WHERE THE HELL AR-" you were interupted by static in the air and a bright light. The bitfrost had just opened up leaving to gods standing in front of you and taking out the remainder ofnthe bad guys. "HES HERE! I TOLD YOU GUYS THEY WERE COMING AND THEY'RE HERE." You pulled two extra coms from you pocket and gave them to Thor and Loki.

"Always a pleasure to battle beside you Lady y/n." Thor smiled takkng the com and putting it in his ear before taking off again.

Loki sauntered over to you and put his arm around you waist, you put the com in his ear as he rolled his eyes. He leaned down and gave you a quick kiss.

"You got a new outfit." You smiled at him. God the way he looked in his battle clothe always did something to you, the horned helment was a plus.

"You like it." He smirked down at you pulling you closer.

"Your wearing your horns to." You reached up and brushed a peice if hair behind his ear.

"STOP. STOP NOW. WE CAN HEAR EVERYTHING AND ITS GROSS." Tony yelled causing you both to roll your eyes.

"Quick run down, bad guys everywhere, no end in sight, and I'm out of arrows pretty sure Hawk is too." Loki waved his hand over your quiver making more arrows appear.

"I see you had to use your daggers. I am sorry for not being here. Are you hurt anywhere?" He asked stepping away from you to examin you.

"Small cut on the side, nothing I havent dealt with before, Ill be fine. You go make sure Hawk is fully stocked up and help the others. I got a birds eye view of you right here." I leaned in kissing him one more time before smiling at him and pushing him away. He kissed his two finger before placimg them over his heart and you did the same, "always." You both said before he disappered.

You could hear Thor laughing at the chaos going on and Steve trying to direct the god of thunder on what to do. You had learned earlier to just let him do his own thing and he would be fine. Tony was still trying to micromanage everything when you heard Loki mumble something in an old language and his com cut out. You had figured it wouldnt have stayed on to long though but at least you had tried. It had calmed down up on your end so you decided to finally go back down to where Clint was at shooting an arrow with heavy duty rope you glided back down next to him to watch what was going on.

"Hello, earth to y/n." He snapped his fingers in front of your face. You had been to busy staring at Loki and that damn helmet. "I dont even understand why were friends." He rolled his eyes propping up on the ledge watching as the rest of the team secured the last of the bad guys.

"Because we both shoot arrows, because we are both the best in the team, or because we both know we are the best looking one on the team so we have to stick together." You laughed jumping up so you could sit on the ledge.

"The birds can come out of their nest now." Bucky called over the coms causing you both to sigh.

When you and Clint had reached the bottom you walked over to Thor theowing your arms around the big goof ball.

"You are amazing during battle as always." He beemed patting you on the shoulder.

"As always? Thor youve only fought with her twice." Steve said beside you.

"I had a week off. Went to Asguard, spent time with the boys. Someone had to keep them in line." You shrugged like it was no big deal.

"She was amazing!" Thor went on telling the story of the fight you had all gotten into.

"Mothers been asking about you by the way dear. Wants to know if you've decided to come stay for a while." Loki leaned down and whispered in your ear.

"I think I'm leaning toward a yes. I can't stand being away from you, you had been gone forever this time." You reached for his hand as you both walked to the quinjet.

"I was making arrangements to have our room redone. I figured you would come with me." He gave you a knowing smirk as he reached up to take off his helmet.

"Leave the horns on. I have a suprise for you when we get home." You pulled his hand away from his head and smacked his butt.

"You are a little minx." He laughed chasing you into the jet while the rest of the team groaned and rolled their eyes.

"Even if you wasnt moving i would be kicking your ass out! I am so sick of the PDA between you two." Tony hollared after you.

"Leave them alone Tony, they are courting. Im just glad my brother is happy and not trying to stab me." Thor clapped Tony on the back.

~~~~~

Tag List:

@kgirardin

@sophlubbwriting

@supbeeches

@high-functioning-lokipath

#loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #loki avengers #loki daily #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki x y/n #lokilaufeyson #loki one shot #loki (marvel)#loki imagine #loki masterlist #loki and thor

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

love in the time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno} - 2/5

summary: your kid has taken a liking to marcus moreno - and frankly, so have you {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce & very brief mentions of his wife’s death

i don’t normally update series this quickly but this was originally one imagine that reached about 11k words lmao so it’s all written, just being split up. i’ve also decided it’s gonna be 5 parts instead of 3, cos i reread the ending and realised i was not done by a longshot. enjoy!

- jazz

Mondays. You hated ‘em.

Everything just seemed so...amplified. The peace and relaxation of the weekend was over and everyone had to go back on the grind. The traffic always seemed worst, the clock seemed to tick backwards and you just wanted to be at home, in bed. After an incident involving the dog, a toaster and a small pan fire, you were already running twenty minutes late and you knew in your soul that your child’s shoes weren’t on the right feet. That, and also he was wearing a Chewbacca onesie to school. It had been a compromise. As in, he was refusing to go to school unless you let him wear the damn thing. It was a compromise. You’d lost.

On the bright side, the past weekend had been the best you’d had in a long time. Jack had spent all of Saturday afternoon at the Heroics headquarters and he was so worn out, he’d slept through all of Sunday. Marcus Moreno must have a been a fucking wizard, because you’d been trying to tire the kid out for five years. You made a mental note to do something in return, though you sensed there was nothing on God’s green earth that could possibly amount to babysitting the world’s most exhausting child for six hours. You were allowed to say that, because Jack was your world’s most exhausting child and you wouldn’t have changed him for anything.

‘New week, huh buddy?’ You glanced at Jack in your rear view mirror. He was sat on his booster seat, legs dangling back and forth and a power ranger action figure in his hand. ‘A fresh start.’

‘Can we listen to the song from Cars?’ Jack ignored your comment.

‘You gotta try and behave yourself this week. You’ve seen what happens to people who do follow the rules, right? They get to go work at the Heroics-’

‘- I wanna listen to the song from Cars!’

You wanted to have a deep conversation. Jack wanted to listen to Life Is A Highway. That was...actually, it was exactly how you’d expected that to go. It wasn’t that off of the time you were trying to explain your divorce to him and he’d interrupted you to demand that you put Toy Story on.

‘Sure thing, kid.’ You rolled your eyes, reaching across to hand him on your phone. ‘D’you know how to spell it-’

Your sentence was cut off by the sound of guitars blaring from the speakers. At least he could work out Spotify.

By some miracle, you managed to make it the school with a few minutes to spare. Because most people had dropped their kids off earlier (see: on time), the lot was pretty empty. That meant you could once again dump your car without regard for the painted white lines -- who had time to park properly on a Monday morning? That was for people who had their shit together.

Leaping out the car, you almost cursed when you tripped over your heels. You didn’t have to wear them, but since you’d started working in a managerial role at your office, you figured it made you look a little more professional. And what was the harm in being a few inches taller? It made you feel powerful.

‘C’mon, J.’ You pulled open the back door, helping Jack leap out the car.

‘You know, I’m starting to think you can’t park your car at all.’

‘Marcus!’ Jack practically flew out the car, his tiny body suddenly jolting with excitement.

‘Morning, buddy.’ He replied; he then moved his brown eyes to gaze at you, offering a smile. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, how you doing?’ You greeted him. ‘I don’t normally see you here in the mornings.’

‘Yeah, I normally drop Missy off at the front but it was one of those mornings, you know? She was taking a little more convincing than usual to go in.’

‘My kid is in a Wookiee onesie and backwards Thomas the Tank Engine shoes and you have the audacity to ask me if I know those mornings? I am those mornings.’ You replied.

Marcus chuckled. ‘I think it’s a look. I especially like the Lightning McQueen sunglasses.’

‘Do you have a super suit?’ Jack asked. ‘Can I try it on?’

‘C’mon, Jack. You’ve already managed to get a tour of the HQ.’ You ruffled his hair. ‘And we gotta get going to school.’

‘But I wanna ask more questions.’ He muttered. ‘I have over a hundred.’

‘Don’t I know it.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But school is more important.’

‘I don’t wanna go anymore.’

‘I let you wear the onesie. That was our agreement, remember?’

‘All good superheroes have to get an education.’ Marcus reasoned. ‘And if you go in, maybe I can show you my suit at some point?’

'Okay!’ Jack grinned. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a quick hug, before peering up at you with a toothy smile. ‘See ya later!’

He turned on his heel and ripped his backpack from your hand, suddenly speeding up the path and towards school. Had...had that just happened? For once in your life, had you not had to wrench him from the car and wrestle him through the school gates? Move aside, Harry Potter, because Marcus Moreno was the new wizard in town. You might have been a little jealous that he was so good with your son but at the same time, it made you like him even more. He was the first parent at the school that had leant into Jack’s wild tendencies. And, whilst you tried not to think too much about it, even his own dad had struggled to do that. It made your heart warm a little.

‘You are seriously my favourite person.’ You chimed, leaning back against your car.

‘Kids with character are way more fun than kids who are well-behaved.’ Marcus replied.

‘I spent forty-five minutes scraping string cheese out the USB port of my computer yesterday, but sure.’

He chuckled. ‘No, I’m serious. I don’t encourage Missy to misbehave but she does get herself into some situations. I choose to see it as a testament to her intelligence rather than disobedience.’

‘I refuse to believe for a second that Missy ever misbehaves.’ You shot back back. ‘She seems so well-behaved.’

‘What you see in the parking lot is not a reflection of our whole lives.’ He reminded you.

‘Right, because despite appearances, I’m actually a very put together parent.’ You snorted. ‘But I get what you mean.’

‘I gotta get to work now, but it was good to see you.’ Marcus pulled his car keys out his pocket. ‘I was serious about that suit thing, by the way. He saw my katanas on Saturday.’

‘Katanas?’ You spluttered. ‘My kid managed to start a fire last week out of nothing and you want to give him katanas?!’

‘Maybe I can show you how to use them.’ He flashed you a smile. ‘And then you can pass on the knowledge.’

‘That’s probably an even worse idea.’ You shook your head with a laugh, pulling open your car door. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘You as well. Have a good day, pretty lady.’

Did you stop thinking about your exchange at any point during the day? Absolutely not. In fact, you’d already written an email to the local deed poll office to change your legal name to Pretty Lady.

No, but in all seriousness, you’d been a little giddy about it. Had he been flirting? That didn’t seem like a long shot. You got on well, you’d hung out a bit over the weekend and not to toot your own horn, but you were by no means bad looking. Tired and a little frazzled, sometimes? Yeah. But anyone would have been lucky to have you and you were doing a better job at recognising that, especially since your divorce.

You were almost ecstatic when it got to 4PM and you hadn’t received a single call from Jack’s teachers. That meant that he had behaved, and what Marcus had said had worked. Because you worked past his finishing time, he usually went to the after-school club till you could come to collect him - it had been a lifesaver, especially since you couldn’t always leave early. He usually came home with some kind of weird arts and crafts. Last week, it had been an unidentifiable item made of dried macaroni and glitter. He’d placed it pridefully on the old fireplace in your lounge.

After saying goodbye to your co-workers, you headed out the building. Your office was right in the city centre and not too far out from the school. It was a nice place to be; your lunch hour, when you could head out to a street cart and eat your food in the local park, was usually the highlight of your day. It was when you could exist just as you. When you were at work, you were in charge on your entire department. When you were home, you were a parent 24/7. That time to yourself was vital.

As you were heading to your car, your phone began to ring. Your heart almost jumped out your chest when you saw Marcus’ name - he hadn’t called you before, only texted to sort out the previous weekend’s plans with Jack. You quickly organised yourself (he couldn’t see you, dumb ass) and cleared your throat.

‘Hey, everything alright?’ You brightly greeted him.

‘Hey! Are you out of work now?’

‘Yeah, I’m literally just leaving. What’s up?’

‘Look, I hate to do this but I’ve had an emergency at work - superhero related, you don’t wanna know - and I’m not gonna be out for hours.’ Marcus sounded stressed. Yeah, I feel that you thought. ‘Would you be able to pick up Missy and possibly have her for a few hours? If not, that’s totally-’

‘- I’d be glad too!’ You interrupted him. ‘I owe you one anyways for the weekend. And this morning, actually.’

‘You don’t owe me anything.’ He sounded surprised that you’d even imply it. ‘But I will definitely owe you for having Missy.’

‘Hey, it’s cool!’ You insisted. ‘Do you want me to drop her off at yours later?’

‘I can come and collect her if you text me your address?’

‘Perfect.’ You smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then?’

‘You’re a lifesaver.’ Marcus said. ‘I’ll text Missy to let her know to find your car instead of mine. I would ask for your plate number, but your car is...’

‘...bright red, covered in dents and hard to miss?’ You finished his sentence.

‘Exactly.’

You’d been in the same situation before; pulled between work and parenting, with Jack stuck at school and an important meeting that felt like it was never ending. It was hard to get a sitter on such short notice - or afford one, sometimes - and it was just another one of the million, stressful situations that single parenting could get you into. If you could help Marcus even a little bit, of course you were going to. You knew he’d do the same for you. Heck, he had done the same for you.

Jack and Missy were both chatty on the way home. Given that she was a little older than him, her conversational skills were strikingly better. It was nice to ask someone about their day and not get where are my Cheetos? as an answer. From what you gathered, she hated science class, enjoyed gym, and her favourite subject was lunch. That didn’t come as a surprise to you - her dad was a literal superhero and probably encouraged physical activity.

(You’d seen his arms, okay? They were more than enough to go on. I digress).

The only thing that made you wish you’d had a little more notice on having her for the evening was the state of your apartment. The place wasn’t bad; you’d lived there for the better part of eight years, and it was crammed with soft furniture and millions of blankets, as well as photos of you and Jack and his questionable art projects. It was just that you hadn’t done the dishes that morning, there was a mountain of shoes by the door and the pancakes from the previous night were still stuck on the roof.

Missy barely blinked an eye; the minute she saw your dog, she’d abandoned her bag and was playing with him.

‘Hey buddy!’ She grinned. ‘What’s he called?’

‘That’s Oppy.’ You replied, hanging your jacket up. She didn’t need to know that it was short for Optimus Prime. No guesses on whose idea that had been.

‘He’s so cute!’ Missy continued. ‘I’ve been asking dad for a dog for ages but he won’t budge.’

For some reason, that surprised you a little. Marcus might have been the leader of a super-hero team and a public figure, but you could tell he would do anything for his daughter. You knew because it was the same for you with Jack. He might have ruled your whole life but you would have hung the damn stars in the sky for him if he asked

‘They’re a lot of work.’ You reasoned. ‘I have to wake up every morning at 6AM to make sure he gets a walk. Then there’s the matter of-’

‘- mum! Optimus Prime pooped in the bathroom!’

‘The matter of that.’ You murmured under your breath.

The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. You fed the kids some leftover takeaway and between the dog and Netflix, they were easily entertained. Jack seemed to take a liking to Missy, which was good because it meant he wanted to sit with her the entire time instead of bouncing off the walls. She had the same patience as her dad, especially when he asked her a million questions about superheroes. It took her twenty minutes to convince him that Batman wasn’t her uncle, and a further fifteen to make him believe that she hadn’t met Captain America.

Jack had asked you a few times about whether or not he would get siblings. Of course, it would be different to any interactions with Missy because he would have been the oldest, but it did get you thinking. You were finally in a place where you were moving past your former relationship and healing from the wounds. Time wasn’t much of an issue either - you’d had Jack when you were young and barely out of college. You couldn’t possibly imagine having any more kids right now, not when it was just the two of you, but in the future? You’d never rule out meeting somebody new. If anything, you were hopeful. Your first relationship had been your only one, and it had ended badly. You wanted to experience love for what it actually was, and not what you thought it was supposed to be.

Not long after 7PM, there was a knock on your door. By that point, both Missy and Jack had passed out on the sofa with Star Wars playing quietly in the background. It had been her idea to watch it - she had good taste. Marcus had clearly done a good job.

‘Hey!’ You greeted him as you pulled open the front door. ‘Come in quick, it’s fucking freezing out there.’

‘Thank you.’ Marcus came inside, dusting a few snow flakes out his hair. ‘Seriously, I can’t say it enough-’

‘- it’s fine!’ You shook your head, offering him a smile. ‘Missy’s been great. She’s really chatty and it was nice to have a coherent conversation with someone that isn’t about Paw Patrol. But was everything at the office okay?’

He was quiet for a minute. ‘Yeah. We uh, we lost someone. A hero.’

‘Shit, man. I’m sorry.’ Your voice fell quiet. ‘You wanna come in? You look like you could probably take a moment.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course! Missy and Jack are both asleep on the couch anyways.’ You pointed through to the living room. Marcus leant over to have a look, smiling slightly at the sight.

‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’

He took a seat at the kitchen counter. Your old bar stools were a little old and wobbly, but Marcus didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he admired the place. It was cluttered as hell and filled with useless, old items - cook books you didn’t use, random magnets, assorted toys - but it was nice. His house always felt a little cold and clinical. He’d moved a lot over the course of Missy’s life and now that he was retired from the field, he’d sworn to her that their current house was going to be permanent. Whether or not it felt like home was another question entirely.

‘I would offer you a drink but all I have is..’ you paused, opening the fridge. ‘Nesquik, vodka or apple juice.’

‘You know what? A Nesquik doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘I like your thinking, Moreno.’

After quickly fixing up the two drinks, you slid into the seat beside him and handed him one. You had never in a million years imagined a situation where Marcus Moreno would be in your kitchen drinking chocolate milk, but here we were. It had clearly been a long day for him and you had enough of those to last a lifetime, so you knew how it felt. Coming home after a day that had beat your ass into the ground and having to put on a brave face for your kids was difficult at best.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ You gently asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll be okay - it just always fucks me up a bit.’ Marcus murmured quietly. ‘Hits a little too close to home.’

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you knew what had happened to his wife. You knew why he’d retired, and why he and Missy had moved away from their original city six years ago.

‘Sorry, that was too deep-’

‘- it wasn’t!’ You quickly cut him off. ‘I’ve had random women come up to me at pick up time and say they’re sorry to hear about my divorce. People I don’t even know. So really, after that, nothing is too much.’

He smiled slightly. ‘They always say they’re sorry but why would you bring up a subject if you have to apologise for it?’

‘Exactly!’ You replied. ‘Especially when I’ve moved on. It’s been a year.’

‘It’s the same with me. Missy and I miss her everyday but we don’t mope about it. We just...we look back with fondness on the good memories we have. You can’t move forward if you’re stuck in the past, no matter how much it sucks.’

‘That’s...that’s wise.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘S’pose that means I should take down the dartboard I have with my ex’s face on.’

‘From what I’ve heard, he seems like he should have more than a dart board.’ Marcus snorted - then he froze. ‘Wait, not that I’ve heard stuff, I mean...I don’t listen-’

‘- Marcus!’ You whacked his arm. ‘It’s fine. One of the other kid’s mums started telling me about the terrible divorce someone was going through but she realised she was gossiping to the one who was going through it.’

‘I don’t know how much of what I’ve been told is true, but it sounds like it was bad.’ His hand hovered over where yours was rested on the counter.

‘The rumours pretty much get the gist of it.’ You replied. ‘But we were talking about your thing, so I don’t wanna take away from that.’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ He finally moved his hand, fingers gently curling underneath yours to intertwine them. ‘If even half of the whispers are true, he sounds like an asshole. You and Jack both deserve better than that.’

Whatever people had said, it had sort of covered the gist of it. You’d married too young and had a kid too young - your ex had been a terrible husband and an even worst husband. He’d chastised Jack for being...well, being Jack. He’d stay out late with his friends, spend money on things neither of you needed and tried to make you take the blame for it all. After giving him a few too many chances, you’d finally reached breaking point and kicked him out. Filing for divorce and taking on being a single parent was single-handedly the hardest and bravest thing you’d ever had to do. In a way, you were glad you’d done it when Jack was still so young - he didn’t really understand any of it, even when you’d try to explain it in child friendly terms.

‘I think people judge me for it a little sometimes.’ You confessed. ‘They see me struggling but they know I made the choice to separate from him, like I brought it all on myself.’

‘That’s bullshit.’ Marcus plainly stated. ‘Parenthood isn’t a dependent thing based on whether or not you’re still married to the other parent. It’s unconditional and permanent.’

‘I should tell him that, but I also don’t want him back in our lives.’

‘I know it’s none of my business, but he doesn’t deserve Jack. He’s one of the best and brightest kids I’ve ever met.’

‘Thank you. I’m glad he doesn’t seem like a complete lunatic.’

‘He doesn’t deserve you either.’ Marcus continued. ‘Again, I might be out of place saying this but you are...you’re amazing. I was a wreck when I was suddenly on my own and you’re still holding everything together and working your ass off.’

‘You’ve noticed?’ You quirked an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, in passing.’ He admitted. ‘I remember I once saw you carrying three separate science projects at once and then Carol made a passing comment that you were on your own and...I just kinda admired you from afar.’

‘You, Marcus Moreno, admired me?’ You blinked at him in disbelief. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘I wish I’d had my shit together half as much as you did when I lost Missy’s mum.’

‘But the difference is you didn’t have a choice in your situation. I chose to boot his dad out-’

‘- you gotta stop discrediting yourself.’ He shook his head. ‘And stop blaming yourself. You did what was right for your kid and that is the most admirable thing of all.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know so.’

The conversation slowly drizzled away, leaving you two to just look at each other. It was hard to tear yourself away from his brown eyes - there was a lot going on behind them. Fear, pain, anguish, admiration. He was one of the most mind-blowingly impressive people you’d ever met; single dad, superhero, electric car owner. He probably didn’t have a mortgage too and that was kinda hot. You were none of those things and yet, here he was, with you, managing to connect on a level that you never had with anyone. Both of your situations were tough, but they’d brought you together.

Marcus Moreno was pretty fucking fearless (came with the job, you figured), and he wasn’t afraid to make the first move. He slowly inched his head forward and in return, you gravitated towards him. Your lips met halfway in a soft kiss, his hands moving to firmly hold your waist as he pulled you closer.

You almost stumbled out your chair with the movement, but his grip on your hips meant you didn’t slip. Instead, he placed you up on the counter, standing up as he did. It took you a moment to adjust to the position, but with your legs resting on either side of his, you could reach forward and lean on him. You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on the back of his neck - you’d surprised yourself with that. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, but you weren’t as rusty as you thought.

‘Oh my god, is the superhero gonna be my new dad?!’

Marcus suddenly jumped backwards at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was stood in the doorway, post-nap hair covered by a lopsided Chewbacca hood. His eyes were like dinner plates, even though he was grinning from ear to ear.

‘Uh...’ you glanced between him and Marcus. ‘We were just...we were...’

‘I had something in my eye.’

‘He had something in his eye.’ You quickly agreed. ‘But now it’s out, so Marcus is gonna go home.’

He knew you didn’t mean it rudely - it was more of a desperation thing. The longer he stayed, the more questions Jack would come out with. Missy could have overheard too and that would have been twice as much to explain. So really, the sooner he got out, the better.

‘Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll grab Missy.’ Marcus said, scratching the back of his head. ‘Thank you again for looking after her.’

‘You don’t need to keep thanking me.’ You shot back.

He disappeared into the living room for a moment, reemerging with a sleeping Missy in his arms a moment later. Your eyes met again, and he gave you a soft smile.

‘I’ll call you.’

‘Yeah, sure.’ You nodded. ‘See you, Marcus.’

True to character, the next hour was spent being pelted with questions from your over-curious son. He didn’t shut up once when you were bathing him and he got even louder when you were reading him his best time story. On the bright side, you’d managed to get him to change out of his slightly manky Wookiee onesie and into a clean Buzz Lightyear one. Normally, you would have argued that he couldn’t live in pyjamas, but if it kept him quiet? It was a price you were willing to pay.

‘Night, kiddo.’ You pressed a kiss to his forehead, switching on his nightlight. ‘Remember our deal, yeah? If I buy you a Happy Meal tomorrow, you won’t mention what you saw to any of your friends?’

‘You said library was bad.’

‘No, it’s bribery.’ You corrected him. ‘And do as I say, not as I do.’

‘Sounds bad, but okay.’ He sleepily murmured. ‘Night.’

‘Night.’ You stood up, flicking out his bedroom lights.

‘Wait, mum!’ Jack suddenly sat up, as though he’d remembered something. ‘You never said no.’

‘No to what, buddy?’

‘When I asked if the superhero was my new dad.’

Well, fuck.

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles @bitchin-beskar @comphersjost {message me to be added!}

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons #pedro pascal characters x reader

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theartofdreaming1 · 3 years

Photo

Slightly paraphrased, but Peeta talking about that moment he developed his crush on Katniss is just too sweet 😊

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 22-24 are below the cut (sprinkled in some psychology thoughts again).

heart

Honestly, I think the people in Panem would perceive the whole everlark storyline the same way we perceive and react to our ships on tv (desperately wanting to reach through the screen, shoving the characters forcefully together, screaming “And now, kiss!”); especially the Capitolites who barely recognize the tributes (or people in the districts, in general) as people. The people in the districts would definitely view the whole thing more under a “reality tv” kind of lens, questioning how much of the relationship is real or not (we know that Finnick certainly thought that the entire thing was just a spiel, until Peeta hit that forcefield). The time spent in the cave must have been pretty convincing, though.

mind

I think that Katniss is still torn here - On the one hand, she kind of wants to believe that Peeta is actually into her (remember the happiness she felt when Peeta told her how his crush on her began, and it all added up and seemed so real), but on the other hand she’s terrified of that possibility because A) lingering trauma from her mom’s depression in response the Mr. Everdeen’s death, B) Katniss never even considered falling in love, so that’s a sudden unexpected thing to deal with, and C) maybe it’s just for the sake of the Games; and wouldn’t that hurt, getting your hopes up only to learn it was only for show? (How about we ask Peeta about that?)

soul

Yeah, that quote about Peeta only eating stale bread also struck me as quite sad. It just further adds to his understanding how there should be more to life than just survival, though. (One day, I’ll make that post about Peeta, Katniss, and Maslow’s pyramid of needs, I swear! I’ve already gathered some research material)

Chapter 22

My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her. - Ugh, I can’t... Katniss misses her mom, misses being cared for😢 I’m so glad we’re going to see her patch up her relationship with her mom in CF... On a different note, Katniss craving that gentle touch just perfectly illustrates why she’s so drawn to Peeta, who is generally such a gentle soul (I mean, he’s literally the person stroking her cheek here 😊)

He [Peeta] doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness. - As I was saying... 😉

“I’ll go hunting soon,” I say. “Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.” - I love them so much😊🥰 And then Peeta makes sure she’s well-fed and hydrated, he rubs her cold feet and tucks her into the sleeping back... and she let’s him! 💗

“He [Thresh] let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?” asks Peeta in disbelief. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say. “And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says. - Oof. This exchange here is interesting in many ways: 1) it highlights their different experiences, tied to their different socioeconomic backgrounds, basically, and 2) that Katniss is very much aware of this difference, but we also see hints of her own ignorance here - because Peeta didn’t have to starve in his childhood, she thinks that he can’t possibly understand this level of hardship; but there are other ways in which one can suffer/lack fundamental needs, which brings us to 3) Peeta’s response about being “obviously too dim to get it”; I think this is a clue to his mom being also verbally abusive towards him: she called him “stupid creature” when he burnt those loaves of bread for Katniss and when he’s losing it in the attic of the Justice Building in D11 in CF he is mad that Katniss and Haymitch keep things from him “like [he’s] too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them”, which - to me - sounds like he’s tired of being treated that way (i.e. the way his mother treats him)

“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a a small child. - God, this is a teenager in a murder-arena who feels like wanting to go home is a childish notion instead of a totally legitimate wish for anyone in that situation, regardless of age 😢

It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol? - Geez, Katniss, give Peeta some credit here! A) It’s not like Peeta can walk around District 12 talking publicly about the injustices happening there - she and Peeta hadn’t even talked with each other before the reaping, whereas Gale is her best friend who rants to her while they are outside the confines of D12 and B) Peeta is literally the one who introduced the whole “not a piece in their Games”-idea to her; why would he be clutching his pearls over Katniss and Gale’s irreverent banter?! Just because Peeta didn’t live on the brink of starvation (she again brings up how his house smells like bread and - at this point - still thinks that the family running the bakery actually gets to eat what they produce just like that), doesn’t mean he doesn’t see how shitty life in D12 is - he can still want better conditions for those who are worse off than him!

“I did do the right thing,” I say. “No! Just don’t, Katniss!” His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” - Well, we’ll see this song and dance again in CF...

And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. [...] And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.” - I wish CF Katniss would remember this moment when she is questioning her motives about saving Peeta’s life in the arena - You. Care. For. This. Boy! You. Value. Him. For. Who. He. Is!!!

This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. [...] This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. - Whoo! Is it hot in here or is it just me? 😉

I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe. - He makes her feel safe in a murder-arena!!! 😭 This is the kind of stuff that makes everlark just a top tier romance, tbh

Peeta telling Katniss about his crush starting on their first day of school 🥰😭 - and her reaction to it... For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy - yes, because you have a crush on him, too! - and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff [...] So, if those details are true... could it all be true? - YESSSSSSSS!!!

“You have a... remarkable memory, “ I say haltingly. - as a severely socially awkward person... I felt that lame response in my bones 😅

“You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in. - God, this would be such an amazing moment if it didn’t get tainted by that immediate sponsor gift, which just serves to muddle Katniss’s feelings with her sense of survival, further complicating her relationship with Peeta... *sigh*

Chapter 23

“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...” “I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush. “Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. - Peeta is the master of being a cheeky little shit and adorable flirt at the same time

“So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?” I ask him. “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. - I appreciate that while Peeta has had a crush on Katniss forever, he clearly didn’t spend the entire time pining after her, oblivious to the rest of the world - he has a life outside of Katniss Everdeen, but ultimately, it all lead back to her

A disturbing thought hits me. “But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!” “Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.” “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. - Laugh all you want, this is going to end up being your future anyway 😄

He [Haymitch]’s at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner, another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to bready to go into action at any moment. Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena. I wonder how he’s holding up, with the drinking, the attention, and the stress of tring to keep us alive. - Katniss is already worrying about her “new pal”, I see ;)

Maybe he [Haymitch] wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. - Honestly, that sounds absolutely awful...

Poor, Katniss, when she learns of Thresh’s death :( - But no one will understand my sorrow at Thresh’s murder. - It’s horrible how compassion and basic human decency gets construed as ‘weakness’ in the world of Hunger Games (esp. the Capitol)

Then I escape into sleep, comforted by a full belly and the steady warmth of Peeta beside me. - Honestly, I think a word analysis of THG-series could be interesting; how often does Katniss mention “warmth”, “steady/steadiness” “safe/safety/security” in connection with “Peeta”?

“We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery,” he says. “Bet that’s expensive,” I say. “Too expensive for my family to eat. Unless it’s gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale,” says Peeta [...] Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life. And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread - Katniss is starting to realize that the lives of the merchants isn’t a cushy as she thought; also, in a way, we see a “prettier” version of how Panem treats the districts overall -> feeding the districts just enough that they can do their work (plus/minus a couple of people who’ll die of starvation, but at a small, for Capitolites insignificant margin), but not so much that they are in good shape to rebel; here, the merchants of D12 have just enough that they can live a “decent” life (they know it could be worse -> the Seam), but they don’t have enough to live a free, comfortable, self-determined life either. This also just further drives a wedge between the inhabitants of D12 (the merchants won’t want to rebel because they don’t want to get ‘demoted’ in their lifestyle, starving like the people from the Seam, and the Seam folk feel resentful towards the merchant people, while also not having the resources to rebel, due to their awful socioeconomic conditions)

What would be my life like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is. - It’s so sad who Katniss has been so consumed with ensuring that her most base needs are fulfilled that she barely has had the time to really figure out who she is and what she wants from life (If we’re talking Maslow’s pyramid of needs, Katniss would primarily be stuck on the lowest tier 😢)

At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. - Honestly, Katniss counting on being good friends with Peeta after the Games is the highest honor she can bestow on him at that moment (she’s so into him, lol); of course, knowing that their relationship is going to be a bit rocky once they’ve come back makes this thought a little sad... but we also know they’ll make up (and out ;) in the future

Peeta licking his plate and blowing a kiss out to Effie is such an adorable goofball-moment 😊

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. - This moment would be so cute (also, Peeta’s so confident in Katniss’s skills to protect him, which is adorable - toxic masculinity who?) but... Ugh, he’s just so giddy here, it kind of breaks my heart for when he learns later that (at least some) of Katniss’s reactions were just for show

“If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds,” I say. “Your call, Just tell me what you need me to do,” Peeta says. - Love how Peeta’s always ready to follow Katniss’s lead :)

Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt [...] “Katniss,” he says. “We need to split up. I know I’m chasing away the game.” [...] “Show me some plants to gather and that way we’ll both be useful.” - Teamwork! If it weren’t for Katniss worrying for Peeta’s safety, they’d be on the same page here

“What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?” I say, trying to make it sound like very important work. “What if you show me what’s edible around here and go get us some meat?” he says, mimicking my tone. - I really like how Peeta’s challenges Katniss here; he doesn’t just go along with everything she says, while still being quite reasonable

I feel like I’m eleven, again, tethered not to the safety of the fence but to Peeta, allowing myself twenty, maybe thirty yards of hunting space. [...] I allow myself to drift farther away, and soon have two rabbits and a fat squirrel to show for it. - I don’t know, but Katniss feeling tethered to Peeta makes me think of Mary Ainsworth’s attachment theory, according to which children with a secure attachment to their primary caregiver use their “attachment figure as a safe base to explore the environment”... Of course, Ainsworth’s Strange Situation was conducted with young children, but attachment styles are supposed to influence the relationships we form with people in our later lives as well (including romantic relationships)... I dunno, just a random association that popped into my brain 😅

Chapter 24

Peeta’s a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. - Heh, Peeta sure knows how to handle fire, huh, Katniss (or should I say: Girl on Fire?) 😏

I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for him when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so greateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought. - Aww, this is so sweet (and domestic)!

It’s funny. I feel almost as if it’s the first day of the Games again. That I’m in the same position. [...] But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. - They are a team! Katniss doesn’t have to face the horrors of the Games alone anymore! It keeps boiling down to this.

#thgagain #thg #hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #thg meta #my sketches and drawings #everlark

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kalimagik · 4 years

Text

Strawberry

Fred Weasley x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Requested by @coffee-wihtout-caffeine - “Can I request Fred x reader where it’s throughout her pregnancy with supportive Weasley family? Like the entire pregnancy just bits through each month and dealing with the symptoms. Tia”

A/N: I had SO much fun writing this. I was so excited the whole time (i love babies and think pregnancy is beautiful, so I may have gotten carried away). It’s super fluffy, has something for each month, and a whole lot of cute Fred and a supportive Weasley family! It’s not my usual writing style, but still so fun. Feedback is always welcome! Comment, like, reblog! Happy Reading <3 (also, I got too excited to wait til tonight to post it, so its coming early)

Month 1

It had to be the stomach flu, what else could it be? Fred left you in bed that morning after you spent most of the night with your head over the toilet. You racked your mind, trying to figure out where you would have caught the stomach flu. That’s when it hit you. Running to the nearest convenience store, you bought the tests, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

You looked at the pregnancy test again and the other 3 that sat on the vanity, all positive. No, you and Fred weren’t trying for a baby, but you weren’t not trying either. A baby…you were going to have a baby, Fred’s baby.

The butterflies in your stomach were going to have a roommate. The thought made your lips curl into a grin as you looked into the mirror. A baby! Now you just had to tell Fred. Knowing you had a few hours, you rushed around the house like a mad woman. The rest of the day consisted of picking up, making dinner, and making yourself look presentable and not like you had spent most of the day in bed. The day also included throwing up every now and then, but you were actually kind of excited each time because it was just a reminder of the little boy or girl growing in your stomach.

When Fred walked through the door, you had your favorite “Love Songs” playlist playing, the dinner table set, and candles lit throughout the entire flat. “Is someone feeling better?” Fred called out above the music.

“Freddie! I’m in here,” you sang, still cleaning up pots and pans from dinner.

“What is all of this?” Fred asked, eyes widening at the sight laid out in front of him. “Did I forget an anniversary or something?” he chuckled, knowing very well that he didn’t. “This is wonderful, love. But, what did I do to deserve this?”

“Just sit down and you’ll find out!” You beamed, bringing Fred’s favorite food to the table, his mother’s meatballs with onion sauce with a treacle tart and cream puffs on the side for dessert.

“24 hour stomach flu pass?”

“Uhhh, for the most part,” you skirted around the subject a bit. You had a plan to tell him about the baby.

Dinner went by with your usual conversations about the day, the shop, and how George and the rest of the Weasleys were doing. When tart had been dished out, you stood up from your seat and went behind the couch to get your little gift.

“Okay, what is going on?” Fred asked, now confused as to why he got his favorite dinner, dessert, and now a present. “Did you do something I should be angry about? Did someone else do something that I should be taking credit for?”

“No, silly,” you giggle, sitting the present in front of him. “Just open this!” You watch him intently while standing as he takes the tissue paper out of the bag and unwraps the first little gift. The white tissue paper fell to the floor as he unfolded a little white onesie that read “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

“What’s this for? I’m not going to be an uncle or something am I? Is George around here trying to punk me?”

You just shook your head, an amused, close lipped smile set on your face. “Open the next one.”

Fred stuck his hand back into the small, blue bag and pulled out the long box that had probably once held a bracelet. When he pulled the lid off, there was the 4th and final positive pregnancy test that you had taken earlier in the day. Fred looked up at you, eyes wide. The hand not holding the box with the test reached for the onesie as he put two and two together.

“Are you- Is this? Does this mean-” You just nodded as he stumbled over his words.

“I’m pregnant,” you told him with a laugh/cry. Honestly, you weren’t sure what the noise was, but it was a happy one. Fred flew out of his seat so quickly to embrace you that his chair fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked again once he finally let you go and stopped kissing your face. You could only nod as the happy tears streamed down your face. “Oh, I guess I shouldn’t hug you so hard. Wouldn’t want to hurt the little lad or gal would I?”

“I think the little Weasley will be okay,” you smirk, hugging Fred a little tighter.

“So when can I tell George?”

You laugh as you kiss Fred’s cheek. “Not just yet, darling. Let’s see a doctor first”

Month 2

“So I can tell Georgie right after this right?” Fred asked as you sat in a room at St. Mungo’s waiting for the doctor.

“I enjoy you pretending to wait for my permission when I know you already told him,” you laugh, squeezing Fred’s hand while he helps you onto the chair for the mothers to be. “He was not very subtle when I came by the shop the other day. He was talking about inventing baby friendly products for the shop.” You rolled your eyes sarcastically at the memory.

“Okay, I may have apparated to our little flat above the shop where he was at the time after you fell asleep the night that you told me.” He pouted, looking for forgiveness from you.

You had to stifle your giggles when the doctor knocked on the door to let you know that she was entering.

“Good afternoon Y/N,” she smiled at you as she pulled out the contraption for looking at the baby’s growing form. “I see you have Fred Weasley with you again.”

The last appointment, he may or may not have dropped a dung bomb that made its way into his jacket pocket accidentally on their way out.

“Hello there, Dr. Woodson,” Fred grimaced. “Good to see you again. Don’t worry, I double checked my pockets before coming this time.”

“Very good,” your doctor nodded curtly. “Well then, let’s get started, shall we?”

Your doctor talked you through the images that you and Fred saw on the screen. “Your baby is now about the size of a pomegranate seed since you’re in the 6th week,” she finished. You sat and watched in awe. The baby was so much bigger than just a few weeks ago when you were in for the first visit that confirmed your pregnancy. “Do you have any questions for me?” Dr. Woodson asked at the end of the appointment.

You shook your head, already having read all about it in the pregnancy books you had bought a few weeks earlier. Fred was the one to pipe up. “So, my brother’s wife was pregnant a year ago or so, and she got really, really cranky. Is my wife going to do that too?”

“Fred?!” you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the arm.

“You see, it’s already starting a little bit and I was just wondering how bad it will actually get.” He continued ignoring you.

Your doctor chuckled slightly before she stood up with your charts in hand. “It was good to see you both again. Y/N, you can schedule your next appointment at the front desk on your way out. Send me an owl if you have any questions or concerns.”

After saying goodbye, Fred helped you off the chair, even though he didn’t have to, and you dressed back into your clothes that were not yet maternity wear, but starting to get a little snug in some areas.

“All ready, love?” he asked after you dressed.

“Let’s go.”

Month 3

“Are you ready?” Fred asked as you stood at the door of his childhood home. He was grinning from ear to ear. Today was the day that the two of you had decided to tell his family about the baby. You told your parents a few days earlier and they couldn’t be happier, but that was two people. Now it was time to face Fred’s parents, six siblings, and all of their significant others.

“Very ready,” you smiled back. Fred had been sitting on the edge of his seat for nearly a month whenever you visited. It was the end of your third month and therefore an appropriate time to start telling the family.

“Mum! We’re here!” Fred called out as he opened the door.

“OHHH! Y/N, Fred! Welcome. I’m so happy you both could make it!”

“We always come for Sunday night dinner, Mrs. Weasley,” you laughed while being buried into one of her notorious bear hugs.

“Woah there, mum. Don’t want to crush Y/N and our-” Fred cut himself off before he let the word ‘baby’ slip. Luckily, Molly was a blur around the house that she hadn’t even noticed. After giving Fred a quick hug, she called up to the rest of the family and feet began stampeding down the stairs.

“Wow, it is getting a little crowded in here,” you laughed as you hugged Ginny, Hermione, George, Ron, Harry and then Bill, Charlie, Fleur and little Victoire. “Even Teddy is here!” you smiled as you hugged the 3 year old with bright blue hair.

“The more the merrier is our motto!” Arthur Weasley boomed as he came into the kitchen as well.

“It’s a good thing that you think that way, dad!” Fred beamed, sharing a quick glance with George. At this rate, the family was going to learn the news before everyone even sat down for dinner.

Pre-dinner chats ensued and then Mrs. Weasley called them all from the living room to the table. That’s when she started handing out the wine. She had decided it was a special occasion because EVERYONE was at dinner. Bill and Fleur were in France the previous week and Charlie was back from Romania for a period of time. Even Percy managed to pull himself away from his busy work life. You looked at Fred with a small, close lipped smile, letting him know that it’s time to spill the news. Everyone would find out soon enough when you refused the wine.

You took your seat next to Fred with Ginny on your other side, leaning into Fred as he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your temple. Then, he cleared his throat to get the 12 other people’s attention.

“I’d like to make a toast,” he announced, raising his glass. “I can’t imagine this night being any better. Spending time with my amazing family, the extensions included,” he nodded to Harry, Hermione, and Fleur. “It’s a big family, but it’s about to get a little bigger. Currently a plum size bigger.” You nudged Fred slightly. He had been making fun of you for announcing which food your baby’s size matched each week.

“Oi, cut to the chase down there. I can’t hold it in for much longer! I’m bursting at the seams over here!” George hollered from the other end of the table.

Your smile grew as you made eye contact with Molly. You could tell she already knew what Fred was going to say, but was letting him break the news.

“Y/N and I are pregnant!” Fred’s signature grin was plastered on his face and you didn’t think that he’d been wiping it off anytime soon.

“This is brilliant!” Ginny cheered as she wrapped an arm around you. “I get to be an aunt, again!” she smiled at Victoire.

“Victoire,” Fleur got the little girl’s attention. “Yoo are going to be a couzin to a ittle boy or girl. Eesn’t zis exciting?”

“Ronald and I can babysit whenever you need a break,” Hermione offered, Ron nodding along, even though he wasn’t too sure if he wanted to be with a baby around his fiancé just yet.

The congratulations and excitement lasted all through dinner. By the end, Bill and Fleur offered you Victoire’s baby clothes if you had a girl, Arthur said he could fix up the cradle they used for all their children, Molly had already started knitting a little hat and bootie set. It was crazy and chaotic, but you loved every second of it. This was your wild family now and the wild family that your baby would get to grow up with.

Month 4

You paced around your flat with a hand on your forehead and one on your stomach. You had just gotten back from your appointment, the high of telling the Weasley family about the pregnancy two nights ago still lingering. Of course, once you went to see Dr. Woodson, the feeling changed.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Dr. Woodson had said as she ran her wand over your stomach to look at the baby.

“What?” you asked. She’d never said anything like that before.

“It seems we may have missed something.” She pulled an image up. “Normally we would catch this earlier, but see that there.” She pointed and you nodded. “Well, there appears to be a second fetus and a second heartbeat that I must have missed before. Y/N Weasley, you are having twins!”

Laying down on the couch, you thought about what having twins would mean. Two of everything really. Fred and George’s shop was doing great again and they were acquiring Zonko’s in Hogsmeade too, so money wouldn’t technically be an issue. But, twins! They could be a little Fred and George exactly and that would be a handful. The doctor never said that they were identical necessarily, so you could have a boy and a girl.

“Honey! I’m hoooome!” Fred sang opening the door.

“With your favorite brother-in-law!” George sang after him.

Both twins sat grocery bags on the table. “What’s all this?” you asked, mind still focused on the news you got earlier in the day.

“We have decided to cook you dinner!” George said triumphantly.

You looked at the identical faces that stood before you, both grinning at you. “Fred, we’re having twins!” you blurted out at them, not able to hold it in any longer. Fred dropped the bag he was still holding, apples and oranges rolling all over the floor.

“Twins.” He said, eyes glazed over, looking past you and at the wall, where the onesie that you gave him the day you told him you were pregnant was hanging.

“You’re going to have a mini Fred and I?!” George squealed in excitement. He shook Fred’s shoulders, bringing him back to the present.

“That we are!” you smiled, appreciating the enthusiasm. “Well maybe, we could have girls, or a girl and a boy. We won’t know until the end of next month,” you explained, rambling.

That’s when Fred went into total care mode. “Do you need to sit down? You should be sitting down. Mum always complained about what Georgie and I did to her body and how hard carrying twins was.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Freddie,” you giggled, “maybe YOU should sit down!”

“Yes, perhaps I shall, love.” Fred plopped down onto the couch as you went into the kitchen to grab him a cup of water. “Twins, wow.” You heard him breathe out in the living room.

“He is happy about it, just processing,” George whispered to you as he started to put your groceries away.

“I know,” you smiled, “he is going to make a great dad!”

Month 5

Your stomach was really bulging at this point. Two little ones growing in there. You were beyond excited as you slid on a maternity dress with sunflowers plastered all over it. It had become your favorite dress, comfortable, stretchy, it had pockets. But, today, you put it on for your gender reveal party. Originally, you and Fred were going to wait and be surprised by the sex of the babies, but Molly and even George changed your minds.

They agreed that once they received the news, Dr. Woodson would write the genders on pieces of paper, seal them in an envelope, and send them with an owl to Molly. Now, you were getting ready for that party. You were more going along with Fred when you originally said you’d wait to find out the sexes, but now you were giddy!

“Love, are you ready? Everyone is downstairs,” Fred knocked on his childhood door as he opened to take in the room that hadn’t changed in years. You followed Fred down the stairs, him holding your hand the whole way to ensure that you didn’t trip down the stairs. He may be loud, boisterous, and reckless usually, but since he learned about the twins, he treated you as if you were a china doll, it was so sweet.

“Surprise!” a hoard of people called when you exited the Burrow. The Weasleys had completely decked out their yard on the spring evening. Twinkle lights flooded the area with light as the sun set to the west. Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom had brought in tons of flowers that surrounded the tables. All the pinks and blues were bright as can be, signifying the news that was about to be shared with everyone, even the parents.

“Merlin! It’s beautiful! Thank you,” you beamed, taking in as much of the yard at once as possible.

The party was a blast. Blue and pink food. Cute little presents left out with yellows and greens. Tons of little Gryffindor attire, even though you’d be okay with your children being in any of the houses. But the time for the reveal drew closer.

“Y/N, Fred. Stand here,” Molly ordered them. “George is out back setting everything up.”

You were shaking with excitement. Your family and Fred’s family all held sparklers that lit the darkness. The colors reflected off of your and Fred’s skin. He glanced over at you and whispered, “You’ve been glowing this whole time, but you’re really glowing now,” before leaning down and kissing your cheek.

“Everyone ready?” George called from behind the hedge. “3…2…1!”

The sky exploded with fireworks of blue and pink. Your hand flew to your mouth as you took in the sight. “We’re getting a little boy AND a little girl, Freddie,” you laughed, happy to now know. Fred hugged you tightly, leaving just enough room for your protruding belly.

“We’re having a boy and a girl,” he repeated, grinning ear to ear. Everyone let the two of you have your moment before flooding you with hugs and congratulations.

Month 6

“Psssst, Freddie.” You whispered, peaking at the clock quickly. It read 1:30 AM…oops.

“Yes, love,” Fred whispered as he yawned before turning over and lazily slinging an arm over your body.

“I’m hungry…” you said, big, pouty, pleading eyes already in place as Fred opened one of his. “Will you pleeeeease get me some chocolate covered strawberries and the cheesiest nachos you can find?”

“That is the strangest combination that I have ever heard.” Fred grunted as he pushed the blankets down. “You sure you can eat both of those things?”

So far, you had found that you could no longer even look at any kind of fish, tuna was WAY out of the question, the smell of tomatoes made you gag, and turkey was a big no go. In fact, most meat was starting to make you queasy and you could only eat it sometimes.

“It’s what I’m craving, so I think so?”

“Sounds good, love. I’ll be right back.” Fred threw on some pants and a jacket and apparated out of the flat. You laid back in your bed, feeling extremely content as you pulled the blankets up to your chin just to throw them off. You’d been going from freezing to feeling like a million degrees every few minutes.

That familiar pop could be heard as Fred brought the food to you in bed. “Nachos and chocolate covered strawberries for my beautiful, glowing wife. We can never go back to the Spanish restaurant on the corner or the market next to it ever again. You don’t want to know how angry the owners were when I woke them up.”

You had already dug into the food before Fred could undress and get back into bed again. “Are you going to save me any?” he chuckled, sliding back into the sheets.

“Yes, you can have some.” You told him, mouth full and chocolate dribbling down your chin.

“Let me run to the loo before I go to bed again,” Fred told you, getting up once more. By the time he walked back into the room, you were there fast asleep, box of chocolate covered strawberries on one side and box of nachos on the other. Fred couldn’t stop laughing as he picked up the open food and wiped off your face before kissing your forehead and pulling you close to him.

Month 7

“FRED!! It’s so hot!” you complained. You could feel the sweat sliding down every inch of your body and you felt disgusting. You felt huge and being pregnant was not fun anymore. You were big, couldn’t move easily, and your ankles had swollen to three times their normal size.

In the July heat, you just felt terrible.

“Let me get you another fan and some lemonade.” Fred offered.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so cranky with you,” you apologized to Fred when he came to sit back down next to you, handing you a glass of lemonade.

“You have every right to be cranky with me,” he smiled, kissing the side of your head as he had been doing so often now. “You’re carrying my babies. Speaking of which, we should come up with some names. It could be fun!”

You took a deep breath, trying to relax on the couch. “Yes, let’s do that!” Fred had already begun preparing the nursery and Molly and Fleur had sent over hordes of clothes. Planning was tiring you out, as fun and cute as it was, so maybe brainstorming names would be a blast.

“Now, George thinks we should name at least one of them after him. If we did that, we should name the girl Georgia because I think George would throw a fit if the girl was actually named after him. And then the boy could be Fred Jr.”

You looked dead eyed at Fred, not thinking his ‘joke’ was funny. “We are not making, no excuse me, forcing our twins to be mini-yous. Nope, not happening. Veto, next.”

“Okay, geez,” Fred chuckled as he took your hand in his own, knowing you would complain about being hot if he put his arm fully around you.

“Mhmmmm,” you thought out loud. “What about Andrew for the boy. You know, for my brother? I’d like to honor him after losing him 2 years ago in the war.”

“I think that would be nice,” Fred smiled softly at you. “Andrew it is. Andrew Weasley has a good ring to it. We can call him Drew for short too.”

“I think so too,” you agreed.

“Now, for a girl, this is a serious suggestion,” Fred prepared you. “Olivia. I’ve always liked that name.” he played with your fingers.

“Andrew and Olivia Weasley. I think it could work. That was much easier than I thought it was!” You laughed with joy.

“Fred, Y/N, Andrew, and Olivia. Our little family. You like your new names, kids?” Fred spoke to your stomach.

Month 8

“Nope, do not get out of bed!” Fred ordered after you tried to get out of bed. “Doctor’s orders. Plus, Mum is already here.”

Molly Weasley had been coming to your flat nearly every other day to help you and Fred around the house. Dr. Woodson placed you on bed rest the previous week and it was complete AGONY.

“But, Freddie, there is so much we still have to do. I can help.”

“Nope, George and I have it covered. Plus you know the rest of the family will help with whatever we need. You just sit here and rest. Liv and Drew are still growing in there.”

“Yes they are,” you giggled, rubbing your stomach. “I swear they were wrestling in there last night! They were being so active! Kicking and moving around. If these two fight during their entire childhoods, we will be in for some rough years!”

“I bet they will be best friends,” Fred smiled. “Look at Georgie and I! And, if they have any younger siblings in the future, they can team up against them.”

“I should hope not!” you scoffed. Your banter settled as Molly hurried into the room with a breakfast tray.

“Mum will take good care of you today and Ginny mentioned stopping by later, okay?” Fred told you as he kissed you goodbye. “I won’t be too late tonight. Everyone on Diagon Alley seems to know that you’re expecting, so even though business is booming, the shop is ready to be closed at closing!

“Sounds good, dear.” You replied, pushing the eggs to the side. You forgot to tell Molly that you weren’t eating those now because of the babies.

“I’ll take those for you,” Fred chuckled, eating your eggs, sipping some water, and kissing you one more time before leaving. “Have a good day!”

“Bye, hun,” you giggled again as she left. At least you had the company of all the Weasley guests throughout the days when he was gone.

Month 9

“They’re due any day, Freddie!” You squealed. You had attempted to jump a little, but that just made you have to pee, so you stopped that immediately. “When they get here, we can hold them all the time and I’ll be able to move freely!”

You had secretly begun doing the things that you hoped would speed along the delivery date. You were eating spicy foods, walking around when no one was watching you and forcing you back to bed, drinking raspberry tea, everything! Well, not everything. You had try to convince Fred to have sex with you the night before, but he refused. Said it was weird with two babies in there, even though you looked beautiful and he would love to.

You had just rolled your eyes at him in response, but you did try!

“You going to come out soon, little ones?” You asked your stomach. “At least one perk of being so large is that I can sit the box of chocolate covered strawberries on my stomach.” You hummed happily, eating another one of the treats that had been your favorites during your pregnancy.

You had eaten them so many times that Molly just started making them regularly for you so that Fred didn’t have to go buy them at all hours of the day randomly.

“Can I come to Diagon Alley with you today?” you asked hopefully. “I need to get out of this house. Everything is ready and I’ve been cooped up for too long.”

Fred stood there thinking, but you pleaded some more, getting him to finally give in. “Only if you promise to not walk around too much.”

“I promise! I’ll sit at Florean’s the whole time!” You drew and X over your heart to seal the promise.

You breathed in the air deeply as you took in the atmosphere of the Alley. The newer owners of the ice cream shop brought you more ice cream each time that you asked for some and whenever you tried to pay, they refused. Yet another perk of being pregnant.

Numerous people had walked by and chatted with you while Fred was at the shop and he came by every so often to check on you. It was a pleasant day. That was until an excruciating pain occurred in your stomach.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” you whined, hands immediately holding your stomach. “Excuse me,” you pulled one of the waiters aside. “Would you run down to the joke shop and get my husband, please?”

The trip to St. Mungo’s was a blur. Fred was holding your hand the entire way, helping you into your hospital gown, and just being an overall sweetheart as per usual. Molly Weasley and your mum filtered in and out of the room. It wasn’t until Dr. Woodson announced that just those going into the delivery room could stay that the chaos slowed. Even if it was just you and Fred in the room, you knew that every single Weasley and Y/L/N was in the waiting room and would be until your two children entered the world.

Four hours later, you had finished pushing, you had finished working your body to exhaustion. Four hours later, you held two little babies in your arms and they were beautiful. Fred’s smile was so wide and he was so proud as he took Andrew from you and then Olivia.

“You did beautifully, darling,” he whispered, looking at the two children in his arms. The tears were still streaming down your face, stupid post-birth hormones. “Are you ready for the family? They’ll come back in small groups.” You nodded laying your head back on the pillows. It was September 8th. The day your little family had its first addition of many.

You could see the little heads of Olivia and Drew peaking over the blankets as different family members held them. Their hair was strawberry red, just like your favorite snack.

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not-xpr-art · 3 years

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Art Advice #4 - A Beginner’s Guide to Digital Art

Hi all!

This weeks entry into my Art Advice tag, where I offer various advice for artists of any skill level, is about digital art! Now, I am by no means an expert at digital (I’ve been doing it for nearly 8 years at this point and that is almost entirely self taught), but I have picked up a few pointers in that time which will hopefully help anyone just starting out!

(this blogpost is a little over 2000 words long btw)

A Beginner’s Guide to Digital Art

I know that the world of digital art has changed drastically in the 8 odd years since I started, but I’d still say that some of the options I started out with will be just as good for anyone who’s starting out now!

As always, I’ll be splitting this into sections to make it easier for you to navigate this post!

Part 1 - Equipment/Hardware

There are a lot of drawing tablet options on the market at the moment, and I’m not going to pretend that I know anything about half of them lol. But I think for a beginner, don’t worry about going for the most expensive option, even if the reviews are really good or your favourite artist uses it, especially if it is way above your budget!

An important thing to know is that there are two types of tablet. One is the plug-in kind. These are essentially a pad which you plug into your laptop or computer and draw on that whilst looking at the screen (they basically work the same way as a plug in mouse works). The other kind is the screen variety, which is a lot more like what most of us know as ‘tablets’ nowadays. And you draw directly onto the screen.

(a plug-in vs on screen tablet, both from Wacom)

Now, as for choosing between these, it is honestly a personal choice. But I’d say if you’re just wanting to try digital and you’re on a budget, a plug-in tablet can be really useful since it gets you used to the mechanics of what digital is like, and they are often significantly cheaper than the screen alternatives. I would say that plug-in tablets are a big learning curve, especially if you’re used to doing traditional stuff, but I do know a lot of professional artists who still use this kind of tablet when doing their work, so if it’s something you can get used to I would definitely consider it! Also, they’re often a lot more portable than some screen tablets! The first one I had was a Huion (a model so old that I can’t even find a link to it now lol), and I also know that Wacom are a well known brand that do some decent plug-in tablet. I’d recommend you do your own research on other brands and options, though!

Screen tablets are often a lot more expensive, but if you’re used to traditional art, they are a lot easier to get a handle of! But I know if you already have something like an iPad, or other general use tablets, then they offer apps that you can use to draw on (as well as things like the Apple pen, or other stylus’). The big difference between using these general tablets and ones specifically designed for drawing is pretty much purely a personal choice. I personally prefer the bigger screen of my XP-Pen tablet, along with a special screen protector that removes the shininess of the tablet screen and makes it feel more like ‘paper’ over when I used a general use tablet it draw. But if you already have an iPad, or something similar, then it’s honestly a really great starting point!

I think it’s important for me to mention that you don’t need fancy equipment to be an artist. The incredible Elicia Donze has revealed countless times how she has very basic equipment but still manages to produce the most stunning artworks! All you really need is some kind of drawing apparatus and a lot of patience lol! Getting good at any kind of art takes a lot of time and effort, but I would definitely say it’s worth it when you’re able to look back at your progress!

Part 2 - Software/Drawing Programs

Much like with the hardware discussion, choosing which program to use is entirely down to personal preference. I personally have never really liked Photoshop purely because it’s really complicated, but I know so many artists swear by it.

I think the main aspect to consider when you’re starting out is whether you want to pay for a program. Software like Photoshop, Clip Studio Paint and Procreate are some of the popular ones I hear about a lot of people using, but all require you to purchase or subscribe to them. So if you’re young or on a very tight budget, I’d honestly recommend the free alternative versions of these, such as Krita (Krita is quite a large program, but it has a lot of really awesome features and is very similar to Photoshop!), Gimp (this one is similar to Krita, but has slightly less options, I’d honestly recommend Gimp for anyone who does photo editing though!) or FireAlpaca (this is the one I use, by the way and it’s a pretty simple program, but has a lot of fantastic features and is perfect for how I work!). These don’t have as many features as some of the paid alternatives, but I honestly think all you really need to start digital art is some kind of ‘canvas’ and set of brushes!

Another great free program for beginners I’d recommend is MyPaint, which is great for doodling and just getting used to how digital art feels in comparison to traditional! It also has a bunch of ‘traditional style’ brushes, to make it look like charcoal or watercolour (which I’m sure the paid alternatives have too, but it’s always better when it’s free, I find lol...)

(this is an example of a drawing I did on MyPaint using the ‘charcoal’ effect brush!)

Most of the sites are pretty self explanatory, with sections dedicated to different brushes (I’ll go into the types of brushes later on in this post btw!), adjusting brush size, shape and opacity, a colour wheel, etc. You also have a section dedicated to ‘layers’ (another thing I’ll go into more detail later), and various ‘filters’ and editing options and effects you can add to your work to make it more interesting!

I’d really just recommend playing around with programs until you find your one!

Part 3 - The Pros of Digital Art!

I realise this section should probably earlier in this blog post lol, but I kinda wanted to go into what digital art can achieve in comparison to traditional art, and how beginner artists can utilise this!

I definitely didn’t take advantage of certain aspects of digital art when I first got into it, and they’re things that would have definitely made my life a whole lot easier lol!

Digital art allows you to tweak drawings as you do them. So if you accidentally drew the eye too far to the right, then you can easily move it to the right place. (I usually do this by selecting whichever area is wrong, cutting it out and then pasting it into a new area... And yes, there is probably a better and quick way of doing this but...I haven’t found that way yet lol...). And I honestly think that this has allowed me to look a lot more at a reference image in order to figure out where I’ve gone wrong with a drawing! Whereas with traditional art, I usually spend so long trying to get an eye right, that even if it’s slightly in the wrong place, I don’t want to completely redo that section. Digital allows you to completely rub out sections without leaving indents, which is honestly such a saving grace!

Another pro of digital is the Undo/Ctrl Z function! This means you can easily go back to before you made a major mistake with just a click of Ctrl Z... Though I have to say that this function has honestly ruined traditional art for me... Oh what wouldn’t I give for a real life Ctrl Z... But yeah, this is a great part of digital art and definitely something you will grow to love lol!

Another great thing about digital is that it allows you to flip and turn a canvas as you’re drawing on it. I spent a lot of time trying to turn my tablet around in order to draw certain parts of a piece before I realised you can turn the canvas itself without having to move yourself or your tablet!

Layers are another part of digital that can be super useful, and I have to be honest but I don’t really use them a lot. I know a lot of artists create layers for every section of their artworks (so, one for the linework, one for colouring, a separate one for the background, etc etc...). And there’s something really great about being able to paint without worrying about smudging into a previous section of the painting. This works well for my work since I do a lot of bright backgrounds. I also often create a lot of ‘versions’ of my works, so it’s useful to be able to change the background without affecting the main figure of the piece! (I have to say that I often work in one big layer when I’m doing paintings, just because I like how it feels more like ‘traditional’ art that way, but layers are such a brilliant tool, and definitely something you should play around with!)

The eyedropper tool is another one that is really useful! Although I never colour pick from my reference photos, I know some artists find this useful when they were just starting out (especially if you’re not sure what colour to make shadows or how to mix skin tones, etc etc). The eyedropper basically means you don’t need to mix your colours every time

Part 4 - Just some other things I wish I had known about when I was starting out lol...

This last section is just dedicated to a few things that I would have liked to have known when I was just starting out all those years ago.

First one is fluffy/textured brushes!

I spent most of my art life from 2013 until 2016 using ‘round’ brushes which are notoriously hard to blend with, so I’d recommend either downloading some fluffy/textured brushes (DeviantArt was where I got mine from a few years back, but there are probably other places you can get them for free too!) to your program of choice, since most of the programs I’ve used haven’t had fluffy/textured brushes as pre-set.

I may make another post about how I blend in my artworks if that’s something people would be interested in?

(this is an example of textured brush blending vs round brush blending... I usually opt for round brushes for rougher blending styles and the textured brushes for more smooth and ‘realistic’ blending... for a lot of pieces, though, I use both brushes (the round brushes are good for details!) in the same way that you use different sized brushes for real paintings!)

The next thing I wish I’d discovered earlier is the Brush Stabiliser option. Some programs may do this automatically, but the one I use (FireAlpaca) requires you to manually change the amount of stabilising you have on your brush. This is particularly useful if you want to draw neat lines or straight lines (the stabiliser essentially slows down the ‘ink’ as you’re drawing). I only recently started using the stabiliser, and although I still like having it mostly turned ‘off’ for doing sketchy work, it does make doing line work a lot easier, and also gives pieces a more polished look!

Next advice is to explore all the options you can in whatever program you use!

I feel like with certain programs, you can get overwhelmed by choice and you end up just using a few of the functions. But I’d really recommend just playing around with these programs, trying all the filters and editing options to get used to how the program works. You can often find interesting ways to adjust your artworks this way! In a way I’d recommend this way of working more than finding tutorials made by other people... Unless there’s a specific function you want to learn how to do, just having fun with digital art is a major part of it’s appeal to me!

There are probably a lot of other options I could go into, but this is already over 2000 words long, so I’ll leave it here for now lol! (I may do a part 2 though so... keep a look out for that!)

As always, if you have any questions to things I’ve said here, or are just looking for more advice, don’t hesitate to message me!

And if you like my work on here (art & blog posts) feel free to support me on my Ko-Fi! <3

#art advice #digital art #art advice for beginners #digital art for beginners #artist advice #digital art tips #artists on tumblr #just want to say again that i am not an expert at this at ALL lol #i just want to offer some really basic advice to anyone interested in starting out with digital!

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wizkiddx · 3 years

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...surprise

um okay so here I am trying angst again. this is kind of intended to be open ended bcos might have a part two at some point. im also lazy and has a few time jumps. also if someone could pls explain if you just get pics for the top of these off internet or credit on like gifs or something that’d be appreciated.

Summary: Tom comes home and everything is most definitely not the way he left, nor is it healthy

Warnings: please read with caution esp relationship with food / weightloss, but just generally a person in a bad bad head space, lots of self blame - then next parts will carry different warnings too

************************

Tom had been away for months. Months and months away from his girlfriend, separated entirely by his filming locations in Europe and America; while you were busy slowly and steadily climbing the ranks of your law firm. Being an intense period for the pair, you hadn’t managed to see each other in 2 and a half months. Of course, both go you were used to this - 3 years deep into a relationship between an actor and a wanna-be lawyer- this was the name of the game.

But honestly? You both just kept falling deeper and deeper, making the separation harder to deal with - rather than getting used to it as one might hope.

That's why Tom felt such an incredibly overwhelming wave of relief as he dumped his bags just outside his front door. Even though he was exhausted from the travelling, just the mere act of finally phishing out his housekeys brought a massive grin to his face - caused particularly by the sight of his tacky little keyring from a Moroccan market that you’d bought him. That had been your first holiday. There’s that old saying that before you move in with someone go on holiday first - Tom understood it to mean you supposedly see all the bad and ugly stuff people can hide from each other, a prewiring before committing to living in the same space. However that holiday all he’d learned was incredible you are to him. To his dying day, Tom will never forget the moment he looked over to his left when the two of you were on this night time stargaze in the depth of the Moroccan desert. Y/n had never seen stars like it, the skies so incredibly clear and lit up with an array of magical blues and purples and whites on its sark background. The sight, for no unexplainable reason, had you completely opening up to Tom about things she’d never told a single soul. And in that moment he’d had this sort of realisation. Not about how much he loved her - because that is just the cliche thing everyone says… and also just wasn’t true.

In that moment he’d rather realised the potential. The sort of ‘I’m not there yet but I know you could become the centre of my universe’. The sort of ‘I’m not ready to say this yet, but I want to spend my life with you’. The sort of ‘at some point in my life I’m not sure my heart will be able to beat without yours’.

He still hadn’t quite got to explicitly saying all that yet, by asking you for the ultimate commitment. But he planned to now he was coming back to you.

Even with the chill of the early evening winter air, Tom was almost ecstatic as he unlocked the door and let himself in. He hadn’t told you that he was coming home, you thought he had another two weeks on the job, but Tom was a bit of an old romantic - he loved seeing your eyes fill with wonder as he surprised you in whatever way. Sometimes it was as simple as a note on the fridge, or a small bouquet from behind his back or as fancy as a surprise holiday.

However, this time, though it was only 6 in the evening, all the lights of their house were off making Tom raise an eyebrow as he quietly slipped off his shoes - not wanting to scare Y/n just in case.

Tom had sworn when he’d been on the phone with you the previous day, you didn’t have any plans tonight but perhaps maybe a spontaneous pub trip and been offered with work colleagues. The house felt a little cold as he padded through it, poking his head into every room just to check Y/n wasn’t there. His last port of call was the bedroom.

By this point, Tom was pretty resigned on the fact you were out and he’d maybe cook a meal for when you got back or hide about the house or something. But instead, when he poked his head around this door, he sighed in delight at the sight of a still mound under the plush white sheets. For a brief moment, Tom paused, before tiptoeing steadily round to her bedside. The light was still off but the hallway light illuminated the room enough so he could make out your soft features and the messy ball of hair that had been haphazardly thrown in a bun. Furthermore, he could also notice in the light the packet of painkillers and migraine tablets lying opened on the bedside - which made him freeze. Y/n didn’t get migraines often at all, but when she did Tom knew just how bad they could be. That explained the fact you were spark out at six o’clock, making Tom give a sympathetic smile. He crept back out the room with a little spring in his step, deciding that since he had had a long day travelling he'd grab a snack and join you. Unfortunately though, when he enthusiastically yanked the fridge open the sight was a rather depressing one. He didn’t really know what he was craving but the fridge contents were of almost no use to anyone. The place was bloody baron, apart from a tub of butter and of course his special beers that Y/n would never dare touch. With a small huff though, Tom resigned himself to some bread and butter, before getting ready for bed.

It was probably an hour later when Tom was carefully crawling under the duvet to settle in beside Y/n after the disappointing snack and maybe a solitary ‘welcome home beer’ - it would be rude not to. God was he excited to just have his girlfriend in his arms again though. So, Tom naturally reached over and powerfully yet gently pulled you back towards him - making your back flush with his as you mumbled something incoherent. Chuckling slightly at your apparent annoyance of being disturbed, Tom pressed a kiss to her temple before settling down momentarily.

But something wasn’t quite right, making Tom shuffle about a bit - ever adjusting huis grasp on your waist as he attempted to get comfy. With the migraine medications forcing you into a deep deep sleep you barely stirred and that just made the unease increase for Tom. Because you didn’t feel right. This didn’t feel right. Ever so slowly Tom started to peel back the duvet from your body from his now sitting upright position. Typically, Y/n was wearing one of his hoodies, however more concerningly it seemed to pool and collect around your frame more than normal.

Now, Y/n was never the most petite person in the world - by no means overweight, instead of beautiful curves and muscle. To Tom now though, it was as if someone had literally shrunk you - like a picture on a word document you needed to make narrower to fit the margins. Even in the dim light of the bedroom he know realised you looked pale. Honestly, Tom didn’t know how long he just sat there staring at you, until you sighed a little and pulled the duvet back up to just under your chin.

He didn’t know what to think or do. All he knew was you didn’t look well and that you hadn’t said a thing to him. Feeling so very uncomfortable within himself, Tom climbed out the bed and simultaneously grabbed his phone. He knew he had to call someone, to check that you hadn’t been ill - but then who to call? Someone that wouldn’t judge or instantly worry- your mum was completely off the cards. Also, he hadn’t even given you the chance to explain yet, so really he knew there was only a couple of options who were close enough to him too.

“Hey what’s up?” “Um nothing much, back in the UK though so-“ “Oh shit really! Kept that one quite bro” “Yeh well came back to surprise Y/n” “Oh you're soooo whipped” “Fuck off Haz, have you um… have you seen her recently anyway?” “You're asking me if I’ve seen your girl while you’ve been away?” “I’m being serious. You’re pretty much brother and sister and I’m -I’m a bit worried.” “What? You know she wouldn’t cheat especially with me” Haz’s tone turned less serious, using a goofy accent “ I know too much.” Haz still attempted to lighten the mood, this conversation very unexpected and making him grow more and more concerned himself. “Haz quit it. I’m worried she’s been ill. I’ve come in and she’s asleep with a migraine but there’s no food in the fridge and she’s skinny as hell.” “Fuck er sorry I didn’t realise. But um no she’s been cancelling on us for the past like two weeks cos like…I don’t know said she was just snowed under at the firm so” “But before then?” “No yeh she was fine. Went to the pub a couple times and she always drove so didn’t drink but nothing weird - think she wanted to keep a clear head. What are you thinking?” “I don’t know to be honest mate. She seemed fine on the phone but I swear to god she looks half the size of what she was when I left.” “Just talk to her in the morning? She probably is just stressed if work has been mad busy.” Tom hummed in agreement, half trying to convince himself too. “Yeh yeh, sorry for bothering you.” “Oh shut up mate - I’ll see you both at your parents for the roast tomorrow? Sams got some new recipe I think, he’s been wittering on about it for days.” “Yeh we’ll be there, see you then mate.”

After signing off to Haz, Tom placed his phone on the little table on the upstairs hallway and sighed. He knew he was being over-protective but he couldn’t help it. Y/n was always the one to care for him, in fact to care for everybody int he room and then some.

He’d get to the bottom of whatever this was tomorrow, and so the rest of the evening Tom spent rather unhappily get ready before bed yet again before climbing back in next to you.

///////////////////////////

Tom woke before you, a combination of jet lag and the worry in the pit of his stomach meaning he stirred awake first. Instinctively he pulled you closer and nuzzled his nose into the side of your neck as he slowly began to wake up properly - shrugging off the grogginess. Tom was still really excited for you to realise he was back, predicting you to excitedly hug him ever so tight and then spend the morning between the sheets. He knew you found the distance tough, especially when all your closest friends were coupled off, it meant you just didn’t have ‘your person’. It was almost as if you were single again and instead of pining over an ex, hopelessly and completely in love with someone across the globe. But that just made your time together even more invaluable and precious.

So even with his slight unease at your slimmer silhouette, Tom didn't have any control over the loopy grin that came to his face as you started to stir and mumble something incoherent, all the while (and subconsciously) inching closer towards him. By the slight fluttering under your eyelid, Tom knew you were waking up and so took the moment to tuck your frizzy bed hair behind your ear. Sighing contently Y/n’s eyes fluttered completely open and Tom met your gaze with the most gently of smiles.

However, he then watched moment by moment as your expression morphed for one of peacefulness and content, through confusion, and ending at pure terror. He had barely thought of asking you why, before you yelped, throwing yourself up into a sitting position and backing as far away on the bed as you could from Tom. “TOM... I-you can’t be here! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!” “Y/n hey what’s wrong-“ “GET OUT! G-GET THE FUCK OUT! YOU CAN’T BE HERE” you yanked the bedsheets to completely cover your huddled up body, as if trying to protect yourself. At this point, tears were streaming down your face and what truly terrified Tom was the expression of horror in your eyes. He threw his hands in the air and unsteadily stumbled to his feet. “O-okay I’m-“ “GET OUT!!! YOU CAN'T SEE ME GET OUT!” Completely bemused and shocked, Tom just nodded jerkily -already halfway out the door and accidentally slamming it in haste.

He had absolutely zero clue what that was about. But what he knew for a fact? He’d never ever seen you like that… you looked so completely terrified… of him? Tom couldn’t for the life of him work out what the hell was going on, as he paced from the shut door to the hallway wall and back again, running his hand through his hair throughout. He could hear you sobbing and whisper yelling - presumably at yourself. It felt as though his heart was being torn out, seeing you that upset and it appearing as his fault? He was acting on pure instinct and adrenalin because your pain hurt him too. He had no control of the physiological response in his body, making his hands shake and breathing increase in speed as it inversely got shallower too.

And so he took a short inhalation, biting his bottom lip as he knocked on the door. “Y/n?….” He got no response after waiting a couple of seconds so tried again - because he could hear you trying to stifle your sobs. After another two failed attempts he opted for a different approach. “Y/n… I’m worried about you… look, I know your upset right now but I need you to let me know your okay… or I’ll have to come in and…and I don’t want to spook you” “Don’t come in.” It was a sharp reply, with a voice that was cracked and clearly trying to keep It together. “Okay… I-I’m sorry if my surprise of coming home was a dumb idea…I-I’ve missed you.” Tom tried speaking softly, as he knelt down and sat with this back against the wall while nervously fiddling with his watch strap that he’d forgot to take off last night. Again he waited for a response but got nothing, again having to warn you he needed to know you were okay. He heard movements from the other side of the door, making him turn his head to the left, pressing his ear on the cool gloss paint. “I-I’m sorry” You barely were whispering, but Tom could sense you were now sitting in a position mirroring his “You don’t meed to apologise love” Returning her tone, Tom sighed at the end - trying to get his brain to process what was going on.

Y/n wasn’t one to overreact and Tom could count on one hand the number of serious fights they’d had in the three year romance. And even then, he was the one to raise his voice - when she argued it was more reasoned, slow and controlled. Actually it was one of the things that in those moments infuriated him even more - you were just so level headed and sensible. Scratch that, sensible purely in this context - everywhere else you were just as loopy as him. So this situation felt so very alien. He didn’t know how to help you and he bloody hated feeling useless.

After a few moments, you replied to apologise once again, for shouting specifically, and Tom nodded - not that you could see. But that was one of the things Y/n had taught him, sometimes you just have accept things - no matter the context. Accept he wasn’t actually a superhero and couldn’t do everything, accept that sometimes he could be a dick and out of line or accept an apology.

“Can you.. can you try and tell me why your upset? I want to help.” He was trying to be gentle, non-confrontational. But he knew something was so wrong. He needed to know so he could try and help out. “I…”Y/n began, but quickly trailed off, as if trying to formulate the words properly. “I’ve just been ill and” again another pause “and I haven’t been looking after myself very well. I just planned to be umm- to be better when you got back.”

It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t really the truth either, at least not the whole truth. But it wasn’t a lie.

“I’m not sure I understand why your so worried about what I think though?” Tom inquired, as he started to fiddle with the door handle in his left hand - as if easing the idea of coming into his girlfriend without scaring you. In reply, you sighed again trying to put the words together without explicitly spelling it out to him. “I don’t- I thought you’d just be disappointed or-or think I’m reliant on you. I’m not and I can handle myself I just…. I don’t know.” “I love you, you idiot.”Tom chuckled at that, while standing up. “Can I come in now please? I promise I’m not disappointed just want to help you feel better.”

The door opened and no sooner could Tom take a step forward than Y/n ran into his chest, wrapping herself tightly around him in apology. He knew that he didn’t have the full story but really didn’t want to push her, more preferring to just love her. So that’s what they spent the rest of the morning doing, in their pyjamas and watching TV. Quite obviously, she wasn’t really making a lot of conversation, Tom filled some gaps with talking about filming - to which she’d hum in agreement or chuckle along. But for the most part Y/n was concentrating on something else.

The all-consuming guilt. That was what was eating away at her.

part 2?

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #Tom Holland angst

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kittycat-kisses · 3 years

Text

My Treasure

Male naga x female reader:

You were walking down the street one gloomy rainy day after work. All day went rather poorly, so the weather really matched your mood. Your alarm either didn’t go off or you slept through it (you really don’t know which), and when you finally got to work you realized you had forgotten to grab any sort of caffeine, then when you got into the office you were called into your bosses office and was yelled at about jamming the printer last night when you weren’t even in the office yesterday. As well as when you finally got to your desk you find not only did someone pour coffee all over your desk and not bother to tell anyone, but the project papers that were supposed to have from your team were not even close to being done. So you were called into the bosses office again, and yelled at again for being incompetent.Then to top it all off, when you tried to start your car to finally go home, the damn thing won’t start. Grabbing your umbrella and trying to take deep calming breaths you start walking down the street towards home. With your head down you failed to see the car speeding directly towards the large puddle forming next to you. Ice cold water dumps on you yanking you directly out of your self pity party just to shove you right back into it when you start shivering. Sobbing at this point you keep walking. “Hey lady! Wait!” Came a voice behind you. Turning around you see a large naga slithering towards you. His bright green and yellowish scales standing out. He stops in front of you and rubs the back of his head awkwardly. “Um I just saw what happened and um you c-can come in a-and warm up.” He says quietly and shyly. You hiccup trying to stop your sobs long enough to answer but soon realize that they don’t want to seem to stop so nod gratefully. He smiled shyly and leads you into a small library you hadn’t ever noticed. “I’ll be right back.” He says and slithers into the back room coming back a few minutes later with a towel, blanket, and what looks like a shirt and shorts, odd for a naga to have shorts, you think. He notices you stare at the shorts and his cheeks turn a bright yellow, something you found adorable. “I grabbed a pair of my roommates shorts and one of my t-shirts. I hope you don’t mind, I just figured you’d want to change.” He says awkwardly. You found it adorable. “Thank you so much…….” “Apophis, my name is Apophis. What is your name?” You tell him your name and he repeats it sweetly, like water on a hot day. “The bathroom is right over there by the way.” Pointing to the corner of the store. Getting changed you can’t help but be enchanted by the Beautiful green tree python (you know this because your a bit fascinated with snakes) that is named Apophis. That rainy horrible day turned into a sweeter in a few minutes. You spent the night talking to each other and getting to know the other while Apophis progressively got more bold until you were laughing at his story about the time he put a spider in his roommates bed and he saw it, and ran out of the house entirely naked leaving his date to fend for there self. You laughed so hard when he showed you the video you fell off your chair. You guys traded numbers and the rest was history. You both became the best of friends. Always doing mischievous things, and pulling pranks on the people around you. One day after 5 years of being the best of friends, 4 of which years you spent crushing heavily on him with, he came up to with a nervous face. “Hey Kit (which is your nickname from him) I want you to meet someone.” He stepped aside and there was a woman about the same age as you stand with him. “This is Ana. My girlfriend.” In the 5 years you both have been friends he nor you have dated anyone, both making the excuse that work was just to taxing to be able to have a healthy relationship, but in reality it was you only wanting to be with Apophis. So when he said girlfriend your heart plummeted, but you quickly wiped it from your face and stuck out your hand with the realest smile you could muster. All you could think was she was so much prettier then you.

After that encounter 2 weeks later of constant date nights and hugs (between the two of them), not to mention the peck on the lips, you learned how to fake your smile to perfection and nobody could tell the difference. At least that’s what you thought, until one day planting in the garden with Apophis he turned to you suddenly. “What’s wrong?” Startled out of your thoughts on wether to put carrots or celery here you looked up confused. “Huh?” Tilting your head in confusion. “Why are you always so sad when I bring Ana around? I thought you would be happy for me.” Realization washed over you and a flinch at the name of the person who got the one you wanted before you could work up the courage. Covering up the flinch with picking up the seeds for the celery you sigh. “I am happy I swear.” You start. “Why do I feel like a but is coming?” He said after you paused. Taking a deep breath you gathered up all your courage. “But I’m upset because she gets to have the one thing I’ve wanted for years……..you.” Then you got up and ran into your house and locked the door not having the courage to open it up after he slithered after you. You started to ignore him and trying to stay out of his way of happiness because you were convinced there is no way he likes me back. After 2 months of being ignored he had had enough, he came to your work right when you were leaving wrapped you up in some of his long coils and slithered off to his house completely ignoring you. When he unlocked the door and went in he put you down on the couch. You try to get up to storm out of the house to make a point but he grabbed a blanket and wrapped you up into a burrito. “Finally! For fucks sake kit will you finally listen to me!” Having never heard him curse you immediately stop struggling to shocked. “Now let me get you up to speed about that day. When you said she had the thing I want the most me, we’re you 100% being honest?” He said giving you a glare when all you do is nod. “Words sweetheart I need words.” He said with amusement with a hint of frustration. “Yes I was honest.” “Good because this next part is going to make you feel a whole lot better. Ana was never actually my girlfriend. She was an old college buddy that got sick of me talking about the beautiful girl that is my best friend. So she came up with a plan to make you jealous enough to admit it because I was to scared to say anything.” Looking shocked as can be realization washed over you with two new discoveries, the naga you have been crushing on for the better part of 4 years likes you back, also the girlfriend was fake. “To which I’ve been trying to tell you for the better part of two damn months trying to get you to just stop for a second and let me finish.” Feeling more then a little dumb you asked him to let you out of the blanket and you spent the night talking about how dumb you both felt about not seeing it way before. The next day you went on your first date, and the romance blossomed from there.

Thank you guys for reading this far! This has to be my longest post yet and I’m immensely proud lol. Anyway I will see y’all later byes!

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 5 years

Text

Black lace and property damage

Summary: With your messy work hours, Bucky’s consistently inconsistent mission schedule, and those basic life tasks you’re both ignoring (when was the last time he actually bought a new toothbrush?), the simple act of just being together has been shunted to the side. Bucky’s officially starting to panic.

Characters: Bucky x Reader Warnings: SMUT, 18+. Sweet sex, awkward sex, some dirty sex, some sex on a car. Basically sex. Swearing. Bucky wearing a white t-shirt and dog tags. My sketchy automotive knowledge.

A/N: This story is sort of an ode to anyone struggling to make time for your person. Life gets busy, so don’t be afraid to get creative. Also sometimes sex goes smooth and perfect, but often it comes with mishaps and giggles. Both ways are great, Bucky says just roll with it!

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

The porch light above the front door is out.

Was he supposed to change that before he left?

“I’m not touching it Bucky, there are spiders up there. Big ones. The kind that give you rabies.”

“Spiders don’t have rabies.”

“No one’s ever proven that.”

Dammit. Yeah, he was.

Picturing you stumbling up the porch, using the pathetic flashlight on your phone to light the way, Bucky feels like a world class, Grade A jackass. He needs to make it up to you.

Good thing he has plenty of ideas for that.

“Please be home,” he mutters, “please be home, please dear god be fucking home.”

Fingers crossed, he kicks the door open and calls out a hopeful hello.

An empty echo returns.

Bucky blows out a frustrated breath.

Figures.

Slogging down the dark hallway, he slings his bag on the kitchen table with a thud. Grenade pins, bullet casings, fun size candy bar wrappers, and handfuls of beer bottle caps rattle loose in the army green canvas and he grimaces.

One of these days, maybe, just fucking maybe, he’ll convince Natasha to stop using his bags as her garbage bin.

Ignoring that disaster zone (a problem for future Bucky), he wanders over to the sink, where he spies a small tableau on the counter. Propped up beside his favorite coffee mug, the one with sparkly pink letters proclaiming “Bitch, I’m Fabulous”, is a folded piece of paper, his name scrawled across the front.

He flips it open.

“Hey Bucky Bear. Don’t let your sexy ass fall asleep before I get home, I have a surprise!”

Drawn under your bubbly letters, he finds two stick figures entangled in an outrageously lewd sex act. Tracing tender fingers over the very obviously male stick figure (you never were very subtle), he grins so hard his cheeks ache. Leaning on the counter, he sniffs the letter because he’s a sentimental sap and it smells like your Cherry-Almond lotion, and drops his head in his arms.

“So tired,” he whines softly, voice muffled against sleek granite.

Three weeks. That was the last mission. Three weeks, even though Steve guaranteed Bucky three days max. Of course, two days into the mission Bucky remembered that Steve Rogers is an accomplished liar, so instead he spent three exhausting weeks dodging bullets, rewashing all his underwear, and hysterically rationing his bag of fun size candy bars.

Finally home, he wants to forget everything and sink into the post-mission domesticity he dreams about when he’s stuck in some dank motel on the corner of Fuck This and No One Cares. The routine is simple. A scalding hot shower, burrito wrapping himself in the feather duvet, making out with you for a few hours, taking a break to eat some pizza, and then fucking you so hard he breaks the brand new headboard he made for you last month (actually the third headboard he’s made...a fact he smugly reports to anyone and everyone).

And after all that fun, he wants to sleep. Maybe two full days. Or five. Tops.

Is that asking too much?

“No,” he sighs out loud. “It’s not.”

Carefully folding the cartoon and your sweet message, he kisses the paper and tucks it in his back pocket.

No way he’s falling asleep before he sees you. Nope. Nada. Negative. Totally not happening.

Pepping himself up, he goes to work, whizzing through his homecoming task list.

Blood-stained tac clothes go in the washer with three cups of bleach. Guns and knives are wiped down and polished. The contents of the dirty green canvas bag are unceremoniously trashed. The spider infested porch light is changed (with only three furry sightings). The shower is set to a blistering temp and he hangs out in there for an hour, soaping his hair into a foamy mohawk, belting out a few showtunes with his shampoo bottle microphone.

Scrubbed fresh and clean, he flops on the bed with his Starkpad and opens up Netflix, searching for something to keep him awake. Several scrolls later, he finds Brooklyn 99 and settles in for a laugh.

Confident in his ability to resist the appealing pull of sleep scratching at his brain, he takes a slurp of the Super Double Big Gulp sized coffee on his nightstand and stretches his eyes wide open.

Staying awake. Piece of cake.

Ten minutes later, Bucky’s fast asleep.

*****

When his eyes pop open, the room is dark. He feels tipsy, sleep drunk on his first uninterrupted hours of rest in weeks.

Beside him, he feels the cozy pressure of another body. Glancing down, he finds you curled under the sheets at his side, your face smushed against his arm, steady breaths fogging the gleaming metal.

Asleep.

Bucky grits his teeth. Squeezes his eyes shut. One thing. You asked him to do one thing.

God. Dammit.

Furious with his lame old man ass, he almost wakes you up. Almost. But then he swallows that desire and thinks.

Before he got married, Bucky read every relationship advice book under the sun. He gets the importance of keeping the romance alive. He knows you need to cherish your person, make them a priority, shower them with love. He knows. He gets it. He watches Oprah, for fuck’s sake. Relationships take work.

But lately? This is life.

With your messy work hours, Bucky’s consistently inconsistent mission schedule, and those basic life tasks you’re both ignoring (when was the last time he actually bought a new toothbrush?), the simple act of just being together has been shunted to the side.

Bucky’s officially starting to panic.

Although, he muses, eyes lingering on the innocent curve of your mouth, the chaos has forced both of you to get more…creative.

He grins.

It was you who instigated it the first time. He was lying in a dingy motel bed when you nervously offered.

“Hey, um…do think maybe you’d…like…would you…uh…”

“Spit it out babe.”

“Doyouwannatryphonesex?”

An anxious slur so fast, he nearly misses the question. He remembers that beat of hesitation, before you dove in headfirst, telling him in obscenely explicit detail exactly what you wanted to do to him. He was so shocked he dropped the phone and had to naked crawl under the grimy mattress to fish it out.

He must’ve jerked off five times that night. Replaying your filthy words. Remembering the quiet whimpers as you came on your fingers, gasping out his name. What a treat.

Sexting soon followed, accompanied by a plethora of nudes. None from you of course, because as you always remind him, you’re a lady, but Bucky? He gets irrational joy from sending them. They come in a variety of close-ups and poses, several which Sam accidentally discovered when he walked in on Bucky prancing around naked, searching for his best angle.

Sam always knocks now.

But sometimes words and pictures aren’t enough. Sometimes you need the soothing weight of someone in your arms. The scent of sweaty skin beneath your nose. Hot breaths of pleasure in your ear and the touch of a cool tongue licking across a heated body.

Sometimes he just needs you.

Could he wake you up? Sure. He knows you wouldn’t mind, you’ve told him a thousand times. But he also knows how tired you’ve been, and he can’t bring himself to shake you awake, selfishly stealing those bits of recovery you need.

So instead, he searches for something to keep him occupied.

He tries reading Game of Thrones again and gets nowhere. Thinks yet again someone needs to get George R.R. Martin an editor.

He flicks on his phone and covertly watches PornHub on mute. Seriously debates whether he can get away with jerking off while you’re sleeping because hey, Bucky Barnes is nothing if not stealthy.

He stares up at the ceiling and tries to see how long he can hold his breath. He gets 2 minutes and 8 seconds (a new record) before giving up.

In the end, he rolls onto his side stares intently at you. Wills you to wake up on your own. Come on baby, please.

But nothing works, and when sleep still doesn’t come, he decides to be productive. Crawling carefully from the bed, he smothers a laugh when you curl instantly into the warm mattress dip of his body, burrowing further under the blankets and unconsciously stealing his pillow. Most mornings Bucky wakes up hanging off the bed, no blankets or pillows to his name, while you’re swathed in comfort, cold toes shoved beneath his belly.

Maybe he should be annoyed. Except every time he looks at you, he forgets how to scowl.

Love is weird.

Rummaging silently through the closet, he unearths a threadbare pair of jeans and an oil stained t-shirt, slips into his worn leather boots. He drops a light kiss on your forehead, brushing a finger down the curve of your neck. Smiles to himself when you snuffle a quiet snore.

And he heads out the backdoor, down the weatherworn brick to the garage out back.

It was an added bonus when he bought the house. An unanticipated domestic perk. Hell, he never thought he’d find someone would actually date him, let alone someone who wanted to marry him and buy a house with him and accept his penchant for hoarding things in a rickety old garage (come on, I grew up in the Depression and I need this, he whines every time you take him to Target).

Thank god you said yes. He’s the luckiest jerk in the world.

Flicking on the garage light, Bucky still gets a little thrill. The entire place is an homage to eclectic, random artifacts, from the box of ugly 1970s vases he found at a flea market, to the fishing equipment he insisted on buying and has yet to use, to the sack of broken seashells you drunkenly collected on your honeymoon in Costa Rica.

In the midst of the swirl sits his pride and joy. Cherry red paint, black leather seats, a tad dusty, full of potential.

The 1969 Camaro looks like a teenage wet dream.

He remembers the day he brought it home, that surge of macho pride when your eyes lit up. After you slapped his ass and told him how sexy the car was, he reveled in your admiration for maybe 10 seconds, before hauling you back to the house and under the sheets. Took several hours before you both came up for air.

That was a good time, he thinks dreamily.

The car attracted his friends as well. Sam and Steve brought over a celebratory case of beer and stood by while Bucky explained the changes he had planned. Steve gave a few sage nods, while Sam helpfully threw out words like fuel injector now and then. Neither had a fucking clue what was happening, but Bucky graciously let them fake it.

Tony also saw the car once. Got a fervent gleam in his eye and started to say the phrase jet fuel, before Bucky ushered him out the door. Tony doesn’t get to see the car anymore.

There are still plenty of fixes to make, but for tonight he takes it easy. Flips on the ancient radio perched above the workbench and flops down on a rolling seat, sliding under the Camaro to tinker around. He goes to work, lets the crackle of the radio and the mechanical puzzle lull him into focus mode.

So intent on the task at hand, he barely hears the garage door opening.

The click of a shoe alerts him too late and he freezes, gripping his wrench tight. Muscles tense, garage floor plans and fight scenarios flooding his brain.

“Bucky? Do you have a sec?”

His breath whooshes in relief at your voice. A silly grin bubbles up because you’re finally awake, until he tilts his head sideways, peering out from under the car to see your feet.

Black high heels.

Stomach sinking, Bucky closes his eyes. Back to work then. Motherfucker. He missed his chance again.

Swallowing down the bitter disappointment, he croaks out a plea.

“Hey babe, do you gotta go back to the office so soon? Can you just - “

Click click and you step between his legs. Firm hands clutch the oil stained fabric at his knees and you pull. The seat rolls easily and he slides free, squinting up at you in the dim light.

The words die on his lips.

Black high heels, yes.

And.

Lacy black underwear, the sides held together with thick satin ribbons. A lacy black bra, your breasts threatening to spill out.

Gorgeous, devilish smile.

Fingering the wide satin bow between your breasts, you tease a light tug and Bucky starts sweating like a virgin on prom night. His wrench slips from numb fingers, thunking him in the nuts and clattering away.

“Shit,” he grunts. There’s a moment of confusion on whether the fresh ache in his balls is from the punch of the wrench, or tantalizing swathes of skin before him, but then you say his name and he figures it out pretty fucking fast.

“Hey Bucky Bear,” you purr, in that raspy voice he loves. “Still want that surprise I promised?”

Palming himself roughly, Bucky adjusts the suddenly tight front of his jeans, eyeing you with a lusty smile. Fuck yes, he wants his surprise. He wants everything about you.

“You bet your sweet ass I do. What’d you have in mind?”

“I have some ideas,” you say playfully. Stepping closer, slipping your fingers into his silky hair, he leans into the touch. “And I promise we’ll get to them. But first, how about you stay down there and maybe show me how much you missed me?”

Torn, Bucky looks down at his oil stained fingers. They spasm, clutching the edge of the seat so tight the metal bends. His voice drops several octaves.

“Babe, I - shit, I’m gonna kill the mood here, but my hands are all dirty, I should wash ‘em first,” he apologizes. Rolling your eyes, you shift closer until the edge of his nose is a mere inch from the delicate lace panties.

“I’m not asking for your hands, soldier. You have a mouth. Get creative.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. Sassy and domineering? And nearly naked?

Hell yes, his dick shouts. Here we fucking go.

Warm and cool, tentative fingertips press into the smooth skin behind your knees, stroking higher until he’s plucking the satin ribbons and pulling. It feels like Christmas morning when the knot slowly breaks apart, whispers of satin and lace floating to the ground.

Nosing against your core, he inhales, long and deep. A low growl rumbles, rough hands gripping your hips tight and heat explodes across your skin when his tongue presses into your folds, licking over your clit.

“God,” your moan is dark, desperately breathless, “keep - that feels so good, Bucky, keep going, please, been way too long.”

Bucky gives a fervent nod of agreement, strands of his dark hair tickling your thighs. When was the last time he did this? Nah, you know what? If he has to ask, it’s been too long.

From now on, the only correct answer should be every damn day.

He feels you moving his head, guiding him exactly where you need him most, and he hums hungrily. Shoves his tongue deeper. He adores when you take charge, using him, his mouth or his fingers or his dick, to get yourself off. He loves it, dreams about it, wishes you would let him film it just one time (because sometimes missions last three weeks not three days Steve).

But until then, he devotes himself to making it perfect because you deserve perfect.

Fast, firm flicks of the tongue. Long, leisurely strokes, licking you slow and sweet. Rough pressure, his plush pink lips sucking tight around your clit. So good.

Your eyes fall closed as his tongue moves faster, quicker, pushing you closer closer closer -

No, that won’t do. Cold metal lightly pinches your ass, a bid for attention. Chest heaving, you open your eyes.

Bright eyed and eager, Bucky gazes up from between your legs, looking thoroughly debauched. White t-shirt stretched tight across broad shoulders, dark hair mussed in your fingers, an obvious erection straining his jeans.

So close, you’re so close, right on the edge, just another second -

He knows, of course. Could always play you like a fiddle. He cocks a challenging eyebrow, sucks your clit between his teeth -

“Oh god, Bucky, fuck,” you moan. Weak knees buckle and his hands clutch your ass, keeping you upright and open. He never stops licking, swirling that talented tongue to draw out the bursts and shocks of pleasure until you’re gasping. When he’s wrung every drop from you, he kisses the sensitive bud and tips his head back with an arrogant smirk.

Legs like jelly, you promptly collapse into his lap.

The momentum of the fall sends the rolling seat flying. Busy being chivalrous and keeping you from tumbling headfirst onto dirty concrete, Bucky lets the wheels send him whizzing backward. His head smacks the door handle with a sharp thwack.

“Ow,” he grunts.

“Sorry,” you pant. Struggling for breath, wrapped in the haze of post orgasm bliss, you cuddle against him, soaking up his warmth. “Want me to rub it?”

Massaging his head, he wrinkles his nose. “Maybe. Depends on what you’re offering to rub.”

“Dealer’s choice,” you sass, and Bucky barks out a laugh. Wandering hands skim lightly over your shoulders, fingering the straps of the lacy bra, feather light trails along your collarbone, to the satin bow between your breaks. Tugging impatiently, he smiles when it unwinds, your breasts spilling free.

“Well, how about I take my pants off, we get in the backseat of this car, and you rub whatever you find.”

“Intriguing. What happens after I finish rubbing whatever…pokes my fancy?”

Bucky dips his head, takes your nipple between his lips, sucking gently. The feel of his wet mouth has you squirming closer until he pauses to offer an option.

“Maybe we fuck like a couple horny teenagers?”

“You’re killing me with the romance here, Barnes,” you say drily and he chuckles. “But I was maybe thinking something different.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

Licking a lazy strip between your breasts, he kisses up, up, up, until his tongue finds the hammering pulse of your heartbeat. Bemused, he hears your voice falter, before bravely offering your idea.

“I was thinking maybe I sit on the hood of your pretty red car, and – and you spread my legs and fuck me so good, I can’t walk for a week.”

Startled, Bucky pulls back. Excitement explodes in his chest.

“You - really? Seriously? That’s what you want?”

“Yep,” you confirm, palpable relief at successfully executing the dirty request. “That’s exactly what I want.”

Bucky plants a sloppy kiss on the tip of your nose. Wiggles his eyebrows and winks.

“Well god damn. You got it sweet cheeks.”

Wasting no time, he pushes off the ground and you kick your heels off, wrapping your legs around his waist. He huffs out a blissful moan when you suck a string of hickeys down his neck, grinding against you as he stumbles to the front of the car. Without thinking, he drops you on the shiny red hood and -

“Cold!”

Icy metal meets your bare ass. There’s a panicked scramble back into his arms and he manages to catch you, until your flailing upper cut cracks his jaw. It sends him off balance, tripping forward to smack his kneecaps on the Camaro’s fancy new grill. A grating screech tears the air and the grill rattles to the floor, the metallic clang bouncing off the walls.

Flinching, you peer up at him as it fades away.

Bucky’s nose twitches.

In all his fantasies (and there are many, because you are one sexy piece of ass), this shit never happens. Every sexcapade is effortlessly smooth, sensual and steamy, where you both look great, not a hair out of place, no oil-stained hands or unintended destruction of expensive vintage cars.

In reality, it seems like something always goes sideways. One of his nipples gets gouged by your fingernail or the silk from your negligee gets caught in the plates of his arm, or one of his perfectly aimed thrusts sends you both toppling off the bed. Sometimes he wonders if this is just the two of you? Do other people have perfectly orchestrated sex lives? Is porn not a true mirror of real life?

Is porn a lie?

Maybe he should watch more porn and form a more educated opinion.

For now, he takes in your crestfallen expression, vehemently shaking his head when you try to apologize.

“Buck, I’m sorry, I -“

Holding up a stern hand, he stops you cold. Sets you on your feet, gallantly whipping off his shirt, and spreading it on the shiny red paint. This time when he sets you on the hood, you lay back until the familiar scent of his cologne hugs you close. Bucky lifts your feet, propping each on the hood, spreading your legs open. He leans in close, a pink flush spreading over his chest, crawling up his throat, blue eyes turning dark.

“Listen to me. Don’t ever apologize, okay? You’re worth more than this old junker.” A crooked smile tilts his mouth, his voice as soft as the lips now brushing yours. “You’re priceless. You understand?”

“Okay,” you murmur. Fingers dance lightly up the hard planes of his stomach, wrapping around the chain of his old dog tags. “I understand.”

Bucky nods, watching your eyes drift down, drinking him up. He lives for that look. Sets him on fire, to watch you ogle him. When your eyes skate down his right side, he flexes his forearm a bit, because he knows it turns you on.

A swift tug of the chain and he dips easily, mouth slanting over yours. There’s a faint sound of teeth clacking together, and he stifles a laugh at your excitement. Deep kisses, stoking that simmering fire sitting right below the surface. Your lips part and he slides inside, curling his tongue around yours, pulling away to lick along the corner of your mouth, to suck your bottom lip between his teeth.

The thought appears, same as when he had his mouth between your legs. How long has it been since the two of you just made out like this? Same answer? Too fucking long?

This is definitely happening more often.

He feels your eager fingers reach for the button of his jeans, popping it open, slipping your hand inside. Cool fingers wrap tight around his cock, the other hand wandering down to squeeze a handful of his ass. Bucky hurriedly shimmies his pants to his knees, sets both hands on the car and leans forward, tipping his face down, touching his forehead to yours. Blue eyes flutter closed, breath hitching while he concentrates on the feel of your capable hands, slow strokes along his length, slicker with each tug.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he grits out. “Can you - damn that’s good - can you, there, bit lower -“

Ragged pants melt into a low groan when you slip your hand from the death grip on his ass to cup his balls, rolling them against your palm.

“Like that?”

“Yeah, yeah, yes, fuck yes, just like that,” he hisses, thrusting into your hands. “Can you - can you pull just a little-“

He stammers the question, ignoring your amused hum. It was a quirk, one he discovered early in the relationship. It came out of the blue, a bashful request during a romp in the sheets, but for some reason, Bucky has a thing for having his balls tugged. Not hard (which was also discovered after an unconsciously rough yank had him squealing in pain), but more of a soft squeeze, followed by a slow pull.

Like how you squeeze an overripe banana, he had explained later, gingerly massaging his balls. Not so hard it squishes.

Many entertaining attempts later, and he swears you have the move patented. Stroking his dick faster, your thumb presses over his balls, before a careful pull. Tipping his head back, Bucky stares glass eyed at the ceiling, lost in pleasure, pushing himself into your firm grip.

“Feel good?” you murmur.

“Yeah. Yes, so good, so god damn good ,” he chokes out. Faster, harder, faster - and then a strangled gasp and panicked blue eyes catch yours. “Wait, too good, it’s too good! Don’t wanna come yet, hang on! Need to be inside you first.”

He grabs your wrists, the thwarted sting of a denied orgasm obvious in the grind of his teeth. Both of you look down to where your hands are wrapped around him, one still kneading his balls, the other curled around the velvety hot skin of his cock.

“Okay,” you say, looking him up and down. “Fine, but - you’re so sexy, Bucky. And I love your balls.”

Bucky nods furiously, gulping a deep lungful of air. His ass cheeks are twitching.

“I love that you love them, I really do. But babe, I need you to let go of my balls or I’ll come all over your hand,” he rasps, wiggling away. Releasing him, your hands run up his chest, twining around his neck, dragging his sweat damp chest flush against you.

“If I must,” you agree, smiling into his lips. Bucky relaxes into you, the slow melt of tongues follows, the kind where a kiss bounces around, until it finds the perfect rhythm. His hands trace up the line of your arms, unlocking your fingers and pulling them free. Brushing his thumbs over your wrists, he bends close, kisses your knuckles.

And then he folds your arms above your head, pinning them down.

“Keep them there, alright? Don’t move until I say you can.”

“Kinky. Yes sir,” you breathe. He smirks.

“You’d better watch it, you little deviant. I might get used to that.”

“Sorry…sir.”

Pulling you further down the hood, he rubs his cock between your legs, sliding himself between your folds until a slick sheen coats his skin. It startles a grunt from you when he abruptly shoves inside, sinking deep until his hips press flush to yours.

He waits. Has to wait actually, because its been a long damn time and if he’s not careful he’s going to embarrass himself before he even gets started and holy shit, is this even real life? Is he dreaming?

Splayed out on the hood of his car, legs wide open, breasts wet from his tongue, black lace and crumpled satin ribbons. Arms pinned above the luscious skin bared just for him. Bucky stares between your legs, dry mouthed and dizzy.

“Come on, Bucky, please? Fuck me, please fuck me, I missed you so much.”

How could he ever resist this? You naked, writhing against the vivid red of his Camaro, moaning for him to fuck you, with his cock buried in your -

“Aw fucking hell,” he mutters. After so many weeks apart, he knows full well this won’t last long. It’s a damn good thing he has more than a few rounds in him.

Cracking his neck, rolling his shoulders back, he digs thick fingers into your thighs, pulls back nice and slow. He waits. Waits. Waits a bit longer because he likes to be an asshole and hear you beg.

“Bucky, come on -”

And he plunges into you, burying himself in the tight, silky heat of your cunt. Warm up over, no slow start. The pace he sets is rough, so deep he feels the pleasure licking down his spine and into his toes. Over and over, he slams into you until one particularly sharp thrust presses the tip of his cock against that perfect spot inside and you arch up with a broken cry. Hands scrabble above your heard, searching for anything to hold onto, finding something flexible.

With a plastic snap, the windshield wiper blade breaks off in your hand.

Bucky stutters to a halt, blinking sweat from his eyes when he sees the look of horror on your face. The apology is still forming when he snatches the plastic from your fingers, throwing it aside.

“Don’t care,” he grunts. Giving you no time to argue, he wraps his hands behind your knees and raises your hips, fucking into you faster. The filthy echo of sweat slick skin accompanies his breathless order. “Touch yourself. Let me watch.”

A frantic agreement and one hand slips between your legs, the other cupping your breast. Frantic circles over the swollen bud, trembling fingers plucking at a pebbled nipple. Bucky watches greedily, eyes flickering back and forth, memorizing those things that bring you pleasure, fantastically dirty memories to replay on a rainy day.

“Bucky,” desperate fingers rub your clit faster. “Keep going, please keep - keep doing that, I’m close, I’m so close, I’m -“

Sharp and sweet and unexpected, the orgasm crashes into you. Arching up, the low moan tears free, and Bucky slows, hypnotized by the sight of you shuddering beneath him.

“There you go, that’s it,” he urges hoarsely, before surging forward and capturing your lips in a wild kiss. Two more pumps of his hips and he stops, grinding against you until he comes with a heavy groan.

Silence fills the room, broken only with the sounds of harsh breaths and the wet rush of his heartbeat thumping in his ears. He rests his forehead between your breasts, listening to the staccato beat of your quick breaths, until you struggle up onto your elbows, pushing his sweaty hair away from his face.

“So I broke your car.”

He says nothing, but a moment later his shoulders begin to shake and suddenly he’s laughing, great rushing wheezes as he struggles for breath. Raising his head, he finds you nervously squinting down at him. He stretches up, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I got insurance. Just need to check my coverage for mildly destructive ‘I missed you’ sex.”

“You might consider expanding that policy. I’m just saying,” you suggest with a giggle and he snorts.

Quiet contentment blankets the stuffy garage, both of you basking in that tingly afterglow. Folding your hands behind his neck, you draw him close and Bucky nuzzles into the crook of your neck.

“Been tough lately,” he whispers, mouthing gently along your throat. “Trying to find time together.”

Nodding slowly, your smile turns wistful.

“Yeah…guess it makes any time we get even better. Right? It doesn’t matter to me what we do, as long as we’re doing it together.”

Bucky feels a lump in his throat (the kind that could easily dissolve into manly super soldier tears), and he gathers you in his arms, tucking you against his chest. When he answers, his voice cracks just a bit.

“Someone’s a sentimental sap.”

He hears your muffled laugh against his chest, feels you bite at his collarbone and he chuckles.

“I love you Bucky. And I’m really sorry I murdered your car.”

“I love you too, babe. I’m glad you came down here. Especially in that outfit.”

“Yeah? You liked it?”

“Fuck yes I did. What spurred that idea, hmm?”

“I just don’t want to lose our spark,” you admit, snuggling closer. “When things get so busy, it’s easy to let things like this slide, and I don’t want you to - get bored, I guess. With us.”

Bucky thinks about all his relationship advice articles and the fact that he sometimes even prints them out and goes through with a yellow highlighter to capture the key points. Hearing your soft concern makes him fall even more in love with you.

Because this is important. This relationship, this love, this spark he was lucky enough to find with you, it’s the most important thing in his world. You are the most important thing in his world.

Brushing a knuckle down your cheek, he coaxes your chin up.

“I know it’s tough, always being on different schedules, but I want you to know, I’m always gonna love you and I’m always gonna want you. Nothing changes that. And if you ever doubt just how much I genuinely want to bang you all night long, then you say something. Deal?”

He boops your nose and you grin.

“Deal.”

“And honey, not that I’m complaining, trust me, but you don’t need to dress sexy to get me all reved up,” he shrugs. “You do that just by looking at me.”

“You do know how to charm the pants off a lady, Barnes.”

He throws his head back and laughs. Swings you up in his arms and calms your startled yelp with a kiss.

“Damn straight. Now how about we give that backseat a try. I think you mentioned wanting to rub something back there?”

*****

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bitsmasterlist

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ohmystars-marvel · 4 years

Text

So...you’re mine, huh?

Pairing: Tony Stark x daughter!reader; Peter Parker x reader (eventually)

Word count: 1,808

Summary: When your mother passes, she wrote in her will if she passed when you were still a minor, guardianship would get passed to Tony Stark. You have no idea what their relationship was, despite both of them living their lives in the spotlight. However, for someone who lived in the spotlight, your mother held plenty of secrets.

A/N: Hi welcome to my first ever fic....please be gentle with me, I swear I’ll try to get better with time. Anyway, since this is my first, why not kick it off with a series?? Depending if you guys like it, I’ll try to post a second part in a couple days, just depends on how busy I am with homework.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony was in a meeting when he found out that (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) died. Notification after notification lit up his phone, and his phone practically fell off the conference table with the constant buzzing. He was standing up to leave the conference room when he finally checked his phone. His heart dropped within his chest.

Sure, Pepper knows she’s the one for him, but (Y/M/N) was a different love and certainly from a different chapter of his life. Hell, (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) was one of his very few childhood friends, and probably his first love. It could be said that she’d match his intelligence, and when she couldn’t, she made it up with her wit and her own heartbreaker tendencies. She had that natural aura of capturing an entire room’s attention, even if she’s trying not to.

A car crash. That’s what took out (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N). A fucking car crash. God, he never expected something that normal to be the thing to take (Y/M/N) away from this world. He thought it would’ve been some kind of freaky accident, some stupid daredevil attempt that would kill her. God, the last time he saw her, it was years ago. He was still the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist he once was, and she was still the rebellious heartbreaker she once was. That night they both had far too much to drink to think clearly. Still, in a very (Y/M/N) fashion, she made the parts of the night that he can remember unforgettable. The weight of (Y/M/N)’s death hit in like a freight train. The only thing he could do sit back in the chair he was in before and just stare at the words on his phone:

CEO OF (Y/L/N) TECH INDUSTRIES KILLED BY CAR ACCIDENT WHILE HEADED TO AIRPORT

Pepper found him still sitting in his chair in shock. She approached him slowly, and gently put her hand on his shoulder. He flinched in his chair, unaware that Pepper even entered the room at all. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand, closing his eyes.

“I saw the news and I wanted to check on you. I’m sorry, Tony.” she said softly.

Tony was still hiding his face with his own hand, but used his other hand to squeeze Pepper’s on his shoulder. Tony took another deep breath, and took his hand away from Pepper and his face and stood up.

“I’m gonna take the rest of the day off.” he mumbled to her, grabbing his phone from the desk and leaving the room abruptly.

Pepper tried to follow after him out into the hallway, but he had already entered the elevator, and closed the doors on her.

******

Tony spent all of his time in the lab for the next couple of days. He didn’t leave, he didn’t eat; he was deep in his grief and putting his emotions through working on one of his Iron Man suits. Well, he was until Peter came in. Peter cautiously approached the lab, holding up a greasy paper sack with a small smile and knocked on the glass door. Tony only looked up at Peter and went back to working. It was a small step, but he at least acknowledged someone. Peter entered the lab, and gently closed the door. He sat at one of the benches, watching Tony for a minute.

“I-I hope I’m not bothering you, Mr. Stark, but Mrs. Potts said you’ve been working on your suit, and I thought maybe you’d want some help! I was also patrolling the neighborhood earlier and this guy was getting mugged and so I captured the mugger and the guy paid me back in a couple of free cheeseburgers and fries and I thought maybe you’d like one as well. I didn’t really know how you like your cheeseburgers, so I just got them plain.” Peter rambled.

Peter placed the bag on the worktable and sat on the stool across from Tony.

“I understand if you don’t wanna talk, Mr. Stark. I was the same way when my Uncle Ben died. I didn’t really talk to anyone for weeks, so it’s okay if you don’t want to talk. I can just sit here and help. But I think you should at least eat though.” Peter mumbled the last sentence as he sat on a work stool across from Tony.

Tony paused for a second, and sighed. It was almost like he was debating within himself. Peter couldn’t tell which part of the internal battle Tony wanted to win, but he resumed to work on a part of one the arms. Peter just patiently watched from his stool, resting his head on the worktable underneath his hands. He zoned out for a little bit, unaware of how much time had passed with his head in the clouds.

“Hey, kid. You said you wanted to help, but here you are daydreaming. Come here and hold this panel back and a flashlight while I toy with the cables for a second.” Tony didn’t even look up when he spoke up.

Peter jumped from his stool eagerly and did an overeager walk/jog over to help Tony. He held the panel and used the flashlight on his phone, trying to give Tony a good amount of light.

“Hold it higher and a little to the right.” Tony instructed.

Peter stood like that for a little while, despite his arms starting to get tired. He was determined though to power through it. After all, Mr. Stark trusted him with this task, so he should be able to uphold it.

“She was one of those types of women that when they were told they wouldn’t be able to do something, she’d go and prove them wrong. She started up her own tech company in order to prove to her own father that she could’ve been a worthy heir to his job within Stark Industries. God, the look on his face when at her first gala when she called him out in front of hundreds of people that attended. I’ll never forget that.” Tony softly chuckled.

“She sounds like she was an amazing person, Mr. Stark.”

He put down his tools and eyed the bag of cheeseburgers and fries that were getting cold.

“Maybe those cheeseburgers were a good idea, kid.” Tony smirked at Peter, who Peter smiled right back at.

Peter stayed for a couple more hours after that, and Tony talked of (Y/M/N) and the adventures that he had shared with her (keeping the stories strictly PG-13 of course) until Aunt May called Peter’s phone. Naturally, Tony covered for Peter before calling Happy to get the car to drive Peter home. When the car was ready, Pepper went down to the lab and told Peter Happy was ready whenever he was. Peter left with a quick goodbye, breezing past Pepper.

“So, you used the kid to get me to open up, huh?” Tony raised an eyebrow at her.

“Tony, you practically locked yourself in here! You wouldn’t eat or talk to any of us, what was I to do? Besides, talking to him made you feel better, didn’t it?”

“I won’t say that it did, but if you put me in a courtroom, I would say yes to the lawyer.”

“Well it’s nice to hear your sarcasm again. I also came down to tell you that they’ve decided to give (Y/M/N) a funeral service and I think you should go.”

“Of course I’d go. What day did they decide on?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Pepper, how long have you been sitting on this information?” Tony demanded, visibly upset.

“Oh I’m sorry. Next time when you’re that deep in grief? I’ll still make you do missions or other Avengers activities.” Pepper responded, just as upset.

“I don’t want to argue over this anymore. What time does it start tomorrow?”

“Eleven. Do you want me to go with you?”

“No...this is something I’ve got to do by myself. Besides, imagine what will appear in the news. No offense, Pep, but it’ll look bad if you show up. It’ll be a field day of Stark’s new versus old girlfriend. I don’t want that for you and for her legacy.”

“I understand. Just...at least let Happy take you in the car?”

“Of course.” Tony briefly kissed her cheek and left the lab.

******

The next morning when Tony arrived at the address for the funeral, the press was already swarming his car. When he was just barely climbing out his car, there were 2 cameras being shoved into his face. Happy helped him get the front door by shoving the cameras down, and yelling at them to be more respectful. After all, it was a funeral, not the red carpet.

When Tony went inside, he was surprised by the amount of people. It was an even mixture of other CEOs from other technology based businesses and people (Y/M/N) would’ve known personally. He could pinpoint all of the CEOs naturally, but was struggling to place the others. Perhaps they worked under (Y/M/N) or he recognized some of them from old social media posts (Y/M/N) posted. Tony went around passing niceties with those that were familiar to him. There was one person that he couldn’t place, however. It was a teenage girl, who was seated in the first row. An older man was sitting next to her, with his arm around her and rubbing her shoulder in a fatherly way.

He as well didn’t recognize the older man, but it definitely wasn’t (Y/M/N)’s father. He suffered a stroke years ago, a couple of months after the gala, and didn’t recover. (Y/M/N)’s mother died from heartbreak months later. (Y/M/N) wasn’t very close to her parents, but he remembered how hard it still was to lose both of her parents within that time frame. He kept staring at the two in the front, despite trying to hold conversations with others and trying not to appear rude. Someone that he talked to, an awfully gossip kind of woman, caught him staring at the girl once again. The woman smiled knowingly.

“Don’t recognize her?” she asked, almost too sweetly.

The woman giggled. “She’s not an intern, Mr. Stark. That is in fact, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Her daughter.”

Daughter? A million thoughts ran through Tony’s head, but before he could even ask the woman how she knew, he was interrupted.

“If everyone would like to find their seats, we would like to begin” the older man stood at a podium, speaking into the microphone, leaving Tony stranded with his thoughts.

Daughter?

#avengers x reader #avengers x y/n #tony stark x daughter #tony stark x teen!reader #avengers imagine #tony stark imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!daughter #tony x you #peter x you #tony stark #peter parker #tony stark fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #tony stark x reader

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Uncle Scrooge by Don Rosa: The Isle at the Edge of Time (Thank You Comission For Rosie Isla)

Hello all you happy people! Today’s review is a bit special as it’s the result of another review. See I had trouble finding a translation of the subject of last weeks’ mother’s day special, Family Ties.

No not that one. I have Paramount+. I can watch all the Family Ties I want and that’s a fact that i’m pleased as punch about.

No it was the story 80 is Prachtig, called Family Ties in the copy used, Della’s first major comics appearance and one that explains what happened to her in the classic continuity, one that clearly served as the foundation for her far more fleshed out 2017 versions personality and backstory. It also had Pinocchio in it for some reason, and spent most of it’s large run time on a meta comedy plot that had nothing to do with the reason anyone wanted to read this story in the first place.

But despite being a vitally important story, it never got an english translation, something that baffled me till I read the story and found cameos of the racist indigenous stereotypes from Peter Pan. In 2014. You may commence booing. Even with how weird the story was I simply couldn’t find the story googling it and the Della tag is too vast and deep to go spelunking in.

So what’s all this have to do? Simple I put out a post last month when neither I nor Kev, who wanted to comission it as part of Moons, Millionares and Mothers, my coverage of all three season 2 Ducktales story arcs, could find a copy and offered a review to whoever found it. Weeks passed I got nothing.. then in the 11th hour I got a break as the lovely @rosieisla found a translation that was on this very site, one she seemed to have helped with. As a result I could do the review and as a man of my word, offered it up despite her clearly having not seen that part of the post and simply having done this to be nice. Still she gladly took up the offer and offered me my pick of two stories: The Carl Barks Story Back to Long Ago or this one.

As for WHY I picked this one Back To Long Ago didn’t seem bad, i’m just not a fan of “The Cast is put in the past as their own ancestors” type deals. Or in some cases put the cast as people from that time period. It’s just not for me and is most often done in TV where it can get really goofy, Beverly Hills 90210 being a prime example of this, though Girl Meets World was no slouch in being embarassing... that being said I really need to finish that show and miss it.

So yeah when put up against a story with two intresting hooks and FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD, even if i’ts not the version that’s my boy, it was no contest. So what are these hooks you ask? Well join me under the cut and find out.

We open with a weird stylistic choice: This story has a narrator complete with caption boxes. Now for those of you familiar with comics or pastiches of comics in tv and film, this probably dosen’t seem like a big deal. It was a common thing in comics from their inception to 90′s to have caption boxes, big boxes of text narrating the action to help move things along faster. It did start to fade out by the 80′s and was gone by the end of the 90′s for the most part, replaced instead with first person narration. It’s the kind of thing you’d see most often in the Golden and Silver Ages, with stuff like tihs

It’s not a BAD device, it’s good old cheesy and bombastic fun and some writers did get clever with it.. like that time Chris Claremont used the narration to yell at a greiving cyclops after he lost a teammate early in his long and storied run on the uncanny x-men.

This is a objectively weird scene that’s still somehow effective by the by. On the one hand it does come off as Chris Claremont essentally bullying Cyclops who already feels guilty for a death that was not in fact his fault as Thunderbird was told the plane he was attacking with fleeing villian Count Nefaria was about to explode and refused to listen.. and that they needed to get rid of either him or Wolverine as both served the same purpose and chose the non-white guy.

On the other htough it comes off just as much as Scott beating himself up in his grief and anger over the event and his perceived failings as a leader. It’s good stuff and shows why this run caught on as this was only three issues in. Also the rest of the issue features the X-Men fighting a giant cyclopian demon that Cyclops accidently freed in his rage by destroying the stone thing keeping him imprisoned. No really here’s the cover

Huh so tha’ts what Nifty’s dad looks like. Neat. Also I REALLY hope we get the X-Men fighting aliens or demons in the MCU. Unlike the XCU the MCU isn’t alergic to getting batshit.. and for the record Deadpool and New Mutants are the exception, not the rule.

My point that I swear I do have is that this was common practice for most comics.. but never really for Disney Duck comics. It popped up ocasionally, like with Scrooge’s introduction, but Barks and those after him never really used them that much. Sure they’d have caption boxes for flasbacks and what not but Barks and Co geninely only used this sort of thing to set up a story. The most i’ve seen it in a duck comic is life and times and even then i’ts usually only used for gags or to set up the passage of time, as the story IS covering decades and thus often needed to have montages to show time passing, and in the case of chapter 11, had to cover decades in the span of a single chapter, so it’s not like they had many other options. So even Rosa as a personal quirk didn’t really use these often.

Rosa used this specifically because he felt the plot was complicated by the use of the international date line. As for what it is, it’s essentially a line marking calender dates from one side of the hemisphere to the others. To use the offical defentition from the National Ocean Service I found via a quick google:

“The International Date Line, established in 1884, passes through the mid-Pacific Ocean and roughly follows a 180 degrees longitude north-south line on the Earth. It is located halfway round the world from the prime meridian—the zero degrees longitude established in Greenwich, England, in 1852.

The International Date Line functions as a “line of demarcation” separating two consecutive calendar dates. When you cross the date line, you become a time traveler of sorts! Cross to the west and it’s one day later; cross back and you’ve “gone back in time."

Despite its name, the International Date Line has no legal international status and countries are free to choose the dates that they observe. While the date line generally runs north to south from pole to pole, it zigzags around political borders such as eastern Russia and Alaska’s Aleutian Islands.”

Rosa felt this made the story complicated.... and that... really isn’t remotely true. The narration is mostly used for gagas and really dosen’t clarify anything. it’s mostly used well in the opening.. but the actual explinations for the date line are clear enough in the story that even if I hadn’t looked the thing up, I still would’ve got it and i’m sure a kid would’ve too. It just feels like a weird thing to ruminate on, especially because he’s got actual things to make up for: while to his credit the native american characters he cribbed from carl barks are sympathetic, their culture respected and treated decently and used for a green aseop, their dialouge is stitled and sterotypical something he dosen’t even comment on (And these trades ewren’t THAT long ago)

And of course it dosen’t help that he dosen’t even comment on using a common device in american superhero boooks.. in the same volume where he ONCE again makes an unwanted and outdated diatribe about superhero comics. I’ll probably cover the Super Snooper Strikes again so I can throughly tear this apart but higlights include: Calling superhero comics “Unwanted” just because he dosen’t like them personally, when people like me would disagree and they’ve lasted through a LOT of highs and lows, outdately saying they took over the American market as the only suitable comics which while true for a TIME,but by 2015 when this book was printed is laughably out of date, as non superhero works like The Walking Dead, Saga, and Scott Pilgrim were massively popular, one of my faviorite comics that is entirely slice of life and would go on to bea huge hit, Giant Days, re-debuted that very year. He also has the fucking gal to insult The Uncanny X-Men by name and I swear to god I did not know this when I made those references earlier, but as you probably guessed REALLY god me livid.

And this is just on his COMMENTS on the story I can’t imagine just how bad the content itself is and having read the first few pages which come off as Rosa using Donald to essentially do an “old man yells at cloud rant” about superhero comics, I really don’t want to. Might make htis a patreon exclusive or again would do it on comissoin. You all make the call.... the point is I don’t likes his elitist bullshit about superhero comics, and this is clearly something that gets my hackles up as I just spent a good two paragraphs of an entirely unrealted review yelling at the guy for it. I don’t like when he does this and this authors notes entirley felt like an excuse. I GET the dark age of comics were bad, they REALLY were that bad, but I will NEVER accept painting an enitre genre as bad just because one work in it is bad. And I wont accept it from someone who himself writes about an often throughly unlikeable anti-hero for a living. Scrooge may not have a gun on his gun on his gun or get to stabbing or have pouches, but he DOES finacially abuse his nephew, scoff at people’s personal troubles, and often refuse to use his wealth to help others in general. So yeah in conclusion Rosa really needs to say less about this subject.

Okay so where were we.. right the story hadn’t even started yet. Jesus.

Okay so our story begins with the narrator. Whose going on about time and what not. The main point of this speech about time is that it’s night in Duckburg and Scrooge is going to bed as, even being the workhorse that he is, he can’t keep going 24 hours. While he’s snoozing though something major happens and it’s the hook that made me pick this story along with the international dateline one.. an island rises thanks to volcanic erruption.. and the lava is GOLD. That’s just pure unabashed classic Duck Stuff: a mysterious treasure or phenominon of gold bound to bring scrooge in.

But Scrooge isn’t stupid: the sun comes up and the world still spins while he sleeps, so he set up a satalite to monitor for this sort of thing. The thing naturally goes nuts.. and even more naturally breaks down becasue Scrooge bought cheap parts. A nice gag and a fully in character way to bring our antagonist into the picture, as the Satellite of Loaded falls in the middle of South Africa... right on the property of my boy Flintheart Glomgold.

This is something Rosa brought up in his commentary for the story i’d never thought about. It turns out Glomgold being a citzen of Duckburg WASN’T an invention of the original Ducktales but the comics: some overseas had understandably moved him from his home country of South Africa. Him bieing in the same town as Scrooge instead of half a world away allows for easier setups and more intresting ones.

Rosa however being obdient to Barks Version of things, ketp Glomgold in South Africa like barks did, which was an .. ifffy decision given Apartheid had JUST ended at the time of this story. Not so much in the reboot as not only had apartheid been long gone by the time of the reboot, but that’s more fair. Still we do get some gorgeous vistas as a result as Glomgold’s minon goes to look at it and finds it’s from McDuck Mining company... Glomgold’s reaction is obvious.

So on that note we cut to Scrooge rushing to Donalds house and forcing him awake and not telling him anything at first. Look his Ducktales Counterpart straight up kidnapped his donald in my last review, I’d call this a win. He also tries to dress Donald while explaning both his panic to find the crashed satlitle and what it found: the golden island. The end result of him dressing donald is worth a chuckle

So after Donald puts his shirt and little hat on our heroes get rollin rollin rollin what keep rollin rollin rollin who to Manilla. On the plane we get the scene I mentioned: The boys make a quip about Scrooge having lost a day and the group go over the international date line. It’s a fun little scene especially Donald trying to get paid early at the end. Classic scrooge and donald stuff without the abusive undertones some of their classic stuff has.

Meanwhile Glomgold works out the data and finds out about the gold island, and his excitement accidently wakes a giraffe outside.. welll it was nice knowing him, Giraffes are the deadliest species known to man.. here’s an educational video t back that up....

youtube

So at Manilla Airport, Scrooge finds out abotu the south african crash, figuring he’ll get a laugh out of glomgold being there ... only for Donald to spot the Jet. Scrooge figures this can’t be anything good... now come on man maybe he’s just promoting his energy drink.

As super sayin god super sayian as my witness, I will never get tired of Ultra Instinct Glomgold here.

Scrooge isn’t so nice about that though and figures he better find out if Glomgold knows about the island and bribes one of the fueling crew for his uniform. He sucesssfully eavesdrops on Glomgold talking to his pilot, finding out from him exactly WHERE the island is. He ends up hilariously botching the mission though: when getting ready to leave Glomgold complains abotu the price of gas and that naturally causes Scrooge, just as cheap, to join in... and Glomgold to find out it’s Scrooge. The two wrestle outside the plane but before this can progress to a game of Naked Robber an airport security guy comes up and Scrooge cleverly claims that Glomgold’s plane has an infestiation, requring it to be quanrantined and allowing Scrooge to jet on.. thoguh not with an actual jet. With Glomgold seemingly dispatched, he can afford to save some money and take his time with a seaplane and I know just the man for the job.

Oh nope looks like he’s busy. So one time related rambles later we meet Keoki, their asian pilot from the tiny island of Wookawooka.. and no that’s not a real place i checked... and no Fozzy dosen’t own it his check bounced. That being said it is a very well done represntation of someone from a smaller country: he’s doing this job to try and bring money back home, but being a seaplane captain just isn’t enough and his island is dying. Scrooge naturally is about as sympathetic as you’d expect, having apparently never even heard of the idea of a bonus when Huey, Dewey or Louie suggests it.

Even less suprising is that Glomgold streaks by in his Jet:turns out Manilla was already overun with the bugs Scrooge claimed and Donald rubs it in that had Scrooge got a JET this wouldn’t of been an issue.

So Glomgold easily beats them there, and to add insult and actualy injury to a cash based one, our heroes get blasted by golden lava on the way in and crash. Should’ve gotten launchpad... got the crashing professional. Keoki is dispondent as this means his people are doomed. He also dosen’t know waht staking a claim is when Scrooge mentions it and the boys bring him up to speed with the poor guy saying he wish he could for WookaWooka. Donald also makes a valid point about how greedy and heartlress scrooge can be.. and really billiionares in general.

No no YOUR the Grouch who refuses to have one drop of emapthy. Donald’s just pissed at your general selfish and terrible behavior.

Glomgold glomgloats and has seemingly won... but naturally that rant that seemed extranious at the time about the date line comes into play: turns out the Island is on it, and since glomgold put his marker int he west, Scrooge simply puts his in the east which is a whole day before. Now GRANTED there’s nor eal legal prescendice for the intetaoinal date line itself , as noted above... but there’s enough witnesses in Scrooge’s favor that it simply does not matter anyway. Scrooge SEEMINGLY wins.

But Huey, Dewey Or Louie instead backs another claim: Keoki’s from earlier. While it was made in gest, he and the others along with Donald back it as witnsses instad. WookaWooka is saved and SCrogoe ends the story yelling at the narrator.

Final Thoughts: Don Rosa.. did not like this story, feeling it wasn’t one of his best and apologizing for it. I however.. really loved it. It’s not PERFECT: the narration feels not entirely necessary and the gag isn’t as funny as he thinks, though the payoff of scrooge saying “it’s time for this story to end” is fucking hilarous. I also feel it’s a bit too compressed: the story is only 16 pages and was only THAT long because Rosa added a few for exposition, a worthy addition. This feels like one of his 30 page adventure stories but slightly crammed into half the length. I also feel the golden island bit was BADLY underused as it’s such a cool setting but barely shows up in the story.

But despite that.. it’s still a fun story: as is standard for Rosa the art is gorgeous and the humor is great. And unlike some stories where Rosa casually ignores how terrible scrooge is, here it’s his own greed and hubris that do him in: had he actually agreed to help Keoki, the boys likey would’ve let him keep the island but his own cold refusual to be a human being does him in, just as his cheapness nearly did. Flintheart is also decent here.. not the deepest foe but frankly most classical duck antagonists really aren’t all that fleshed out, and we still get some good bits with him. The dateline bit, while telegraphing that it will be important, as I said REALLY isn’t that hard to understand. All in all while i’ll agree with Rosa this isn’t his BEST, it’s still a really damn good story and one he shoudln’t be ashamed of.

Tommorow: Green Eggs and ham is back for some train shenanigans! Kay.

Saturday: The Tom Retrospective returns for it’s last detour! Eclipsa and Moon team up to stop meteora but grapple with diffrent wants: One to save her daughter.. the other to stop waht she clearly sees as an out of control monster. The result.. will only lead to tragedy and a hell of a two parter.

If you liked this review consider joining my patreon, patroen.com/popculturebuffet. At as low as 2 bucks a month you get accesss to my patreon discord, exclusive reviews, and to pick a short when I do one of my shortstragavanzas, a marthon of theatrical shorts honoring a characters birthday. And given Donald’s is next month, now’s the time to get on board.

But if you go up to 5 you get a guaranteed review of whatever you want every month, and will get me to my next milestone, which will give everyone including yourself a monthly public darkwing duck review, reviews of the two Ducktales minis’ I haven’t covered (Time is Money and SuperDuckTales) and a reivew of the Danny Phantom film the Ultimate Enemy. So please join today and if you cannot, like this review, subscribe and give me your opinions on it bellow. Or even if you can feedback is always appricated and I will see you at the next rainbow.

#donald duck #scrooge mcduck #don rosa #ducktales #huey duck #louie duck #dewey duck #flintheart glomgold #gold #island #volcaones

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