#he should NOT be crushing this hard on quentin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

creelmalfoylaufeyson69 · 2 months

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Pursued

Warnings: smut

Being the Spiderman in the universe they were in was quite hard. But that is just how it goes with that line of work. They lost their parents during a fight, and they still hated it to this day, since they blamed themselves for their parent’s death. They just needed something- anything for them to make them truly feel like a hero

In this universe Spiderman is always viewed as the villain. No matter how much they help out, they are still viewed in such a negative manner. They just wanted to feel like everything wasn’t their fault. This is when their teammate Quentin Beck chimes in

Those two were in a relationship, but it took them a while to fully believe that he had a crush on them. It was real as well. He wanted to help them get viewed as a hero. He didn’t see them as a threat at all. So him finally revealing the big secret he’s kept from them for a moment like this, made him realize how worth it it was to keep this secret from them

They were quite impressed, and turned on about how smart he was. How he managed to make the real Nick Fury believe his act. They give him and his team an applause. Quentin gets up from the stool, and then bows. “Thank you, honey” he says as he stands up straight again

He walks over towards where they sat, and once he was close enough, he takes out his hand. “I can make you into that superhero you’ve always wanted to be. But you have to keep this a secret” he says, which makes them take his hand. He smiles; “I knew you’d say yes.” “Plus I would’ve been so pissed at myself if I did have to kill you”

This makes them confused that he had thought about that, but it was fair on his side to have a plan b if plan a didn’t work out. “I like my suit though, so that won’t be an illusion” they said as they take their hand out of his. They stood up, and was closer towards him

“I wouldn’t make that into an illusion anyway, since I like seeing you in that tight suit” they blushed madly now, which makes him smirk. “Perhaps we should celebrate, since you’re new here” he says with the smirk still on his face. “I like the sound of that” they said as their lips go for his now

The two start to make out, which makes everyone else uncomfortable. Once the two pull apart, Quentin is catching his breath. They do the same, and also remembers that the two are still in front of people. “Can we go somewhere more private?” They asked in a hushed voice

He nodded his head, and then the two leave without saying anything to the rest of team. The two were eventually at his place, and once the two were fully inside, he stood behind them. He unzipped their suit, and once it was on the ground, he pulls down their underwear

He notices how wet they were for him, and chuckles. “Of course this turns you on” he says as as he has an evil smirk on his face now. “You know, I also think you make a good superhero. If only others could see that in you though” he adds as their underwear hits the ground. “Can you jump for me?” They did as told and now their legs were on his back, and they had their hands on the wall

He begins to lick their pussy, which makes their head arch their head. Moans escaped their mouth as he grasped onto their thighs as he now sucks their folds. “Quentin” they moaned as he continues to suck their folds. Their walls clenched now, which makes him stop. He gets them back onto the ground, and now he takes his shirt off

“If there are people that still don’t like you even after I change their minds. I’ll kill them” he says as his shirt goes onto the ground. “You’re joking” they said as now takes his pants off. “I’m not. I’d kill anyone that still hates Spiderman” he says as his pants were now on the ground. “But I won’t do it directly towards them. My illusions will kill them” he says, which turns them on more

“That’s hot Quentin” they admit as he takes his boxers off. “Yeah?” His evil smirk returns now. “Yeah” they said as they leave hickeys onto his neck now. He moans as they mark him. He gets pinned to the wall now, but it was quite aggressive. He liked it though

Once they’ve stopped marking him, they looked deeply into his blue eyes. He kisses them onto their lips now. He guides them to their couch as the two made out. Once close enough to the couch, he pulls apart. They knew their couch was behind them, so they laid down now. He goes on top of them, and his lips go back onto theirs

He goes into them, which makes them pull apart. Their head almost arches back, but makes them continue to look at him. “I wanna see the faces you make while I’m pleasuring you. Understand?” They told him that they understood, and now he’s thrusting

Their eyes go to the back of their head as he fucks them. Moans escaped their mouth as he hits their g spot. He moans too, but he doesn’t allow himself to arch his head back. He needed to see their face, especially for when they cum. “Y/n” he moans as his hands were intertwined with theirs

The two were leaving nail marks on each other’s skin. But neither had cared. It had just added to pleasure for the two. “I don’t understand how no one could like Spiderman. Especially with how sweet they can be” he starts, which makes them excited. “And how hot they can be. People loved a masked person, but don’t like Spiderman. How depressing. Their missing out” he adds, which makes them cum

He stops, but they wanted him to continue. He smirks, and happily listens

#quentin beck x reader #quentin beck x reader smut #spiderman! reader #spiderman far from home #jake gylenhall #mysterio x reader

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buckybarnesowl · 3 years

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It Never Ends - Chapter 4

Pairing: College!AU Bucky x fem! Reader

Series description: Bucky and Y/n are fourth-year undergrads with the same major. They’ve always had a crush on each other but were too reserved to do anything about it. One horrendous night pushes them together and they’re forced to navigate the fallout, for better or worse.

Series warnings: 18+!!! This series is not for minors. The main plot line is based around sexual assault/rape themes and the fallout that comes from that type of trauma. Please if you are not 18+ do not engage. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

A/n: I’ve decided I'll likely fail the Whumptober completion. I felt the prompts were forcing the story into an unrealistic direction and I want to do this justice. It might take longer than expected, but I will finish this series.

Please take care when reading this. As a survivor (multiple times over) I know how reading stories like this can be triggering without even realizing it. If anyone wants/needs to talk don’t hesitate to send me a message. Love you all. Thanks to everyone for reading and commenting and reblogging so far.

Chapter 4 warnings: blood, violent fighting, swearing and derogatory slurs, reference to non-con, trauma, anxiety

Chapter 4 word count: 3k

Chapter 4 prompts:

No. 3 - STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT… taunting | insults | “Who did this to you?”

No. 5 - I’VE GOT RED IN MY LEDGER betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose

No. 19 - JUST A SCRATCH bitten | bleeding | stabbing

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Bucky could feel the crick forming in his neck and stiffness in his back before he even opened his eyes. He stopped the groan from leaving his lips when he remembered where he was. Not wanting to wake Y/n, he slowly freed his hand from hers, freezing when she stirred. She rolled over and Bucky only continued moving once he was certain her breath had evened out once more. With the stealth of a trained assassin, he gathered all his things and left the three roommates sleeping.

The campus was unsurprisingly dead for just past 7:00 a.m. on a Sunday. The cold morning air whipped his cheeks as Bucky left the dorm building. He should have walked straight to his dorm and caught up on sleep. It was the final week of classes before Thanksgiving break which meant mid-term assignments. And he needed all the rest he could get after what a late night Friday turned into and the shoddy floor sleep he’d just had. But he couldn’t. Not when his insides were buzzing with so much rage he thought he might combust in the middle of the East Boulevard.

Quentin fucking Beck.

Brock fucking Rumlow.

Quentin motherfucking Beck.

Bucky’s teeth were clenched so hard his jaw started to throb. He had forced himself to remain calm the night before. As soon as he’d heard her say their names, he swore to himself he wouldn’t make it worse. Y/n was already suffering enough, she didn’t need him getting all macho and protective when she’d only just remembered the horrendous details.

But now that he was alone, the fury erupted in chest and seared through his veins.

Bucky wasn’t a violent man. When they were teenagers, Steve was the one getting into fights. Bucky would come to his friend’s rescue often, only resorting to violence when absolutely necessary. But the Terror in Y/n’s eyes when he woke her from her nightmare was enough to make him plan out every excruciating and gory detail of Beck’s murder.

Quentin was in graphic lit with Y/n and Bucky this semester and Bucky already loathed every word that came out of the obnoxious douchebag’s mouth. Not to mention the way Bucky always caught him staring at Y/n. It ignited a jealous flame in him—not that his crush meant that Y/n belonged to him or anything. It’s just he could see the way he undressed her with his disgusting leering. So it was no surprise when Y/n named him. Could you really blame him for wanting to knock the guy out?

Gross staring habit aside, Bucky had heard and read the stories about Beck and Rumlow. But everyone in the Faculty of Arts knew Beck’s father was one of the college’s biggest donors so he was next to untouchable. That didn’t mean Bucky couldn’t have a little “chat” with him the next time he saw him.

Which turned out would be as soon as Bucky entered the 24-hour coffee shop between his and Y/n’s residences. The only students in there were either die hard studiers or those making a pitstop on their walk of shame from Saturday night debauchery. Quentin and his ever present sidekick were the last in line.

Bucky’s chest started heaving and he had to dig his nails into his palm as his right hand made a fist to ground himself, the prosthetic quietly whirring as he clenched his left.

“God, I can’t believe how much we drank last night. I need ALL the coffee right now,” Brock groaned.

“No shit. Where’d you end up anyways? With that brunette? Or the slutty blond?”

“I can’t even remember, man. I just grabbed my hoodie and left this morning. What about you?”

“Same, man. I just remember it being good.”

The two laughed at Quentin’s insinuation.

“And thank fuck I didn’t get barfed on this time.”

“I still can’t believe that bitch threw up on y—”

“Hey, what'd I say, man? Don’t call her a bitch. I should have remembered she couldn’t handle her shit. She was always such a lightweight in high school,” Quentin hissed at his buddy in a low tone.

“Jeez, cool it. I forgot you actually like that one.”

“Shut the fuck up, man. Just order our damn coffees so we can get back to the dorm. I’m going to go take a piss.”

Bucky watched as Quentin disappeared into the cafe’s washroom. He was counting his breaths and trying to focus on the burning sensation of his nails in his palm. Before he could decide what to do, his legs were already turning him around and sending him through the doors he’d just entered minutes before. The coffee shop was the last business on the strip of the East Boulevard that led to Bucky’s dorm, the same as Beck’s and Rumlow’s. His feet continued to rush him to a section of dense trees just before their building, only stopping when he got to the wooden bench he knew was there.

Hidden from view by the shade of the changing foliage, Bucky sat, waiting. It didn’t take long before his ears registered Quentin’s voice. Bucky held his breath as the two men approached him. He watched them pass, oblivious to his presence on the bench.

Not yet.

Now.

“Hey Beck! Fuck you.”

Bucky’s heart was nearly pounding out of his chest as he watched the two dark haired men stop and look at each other before turning to see him sitting on the bench, knee bouncing.

“I’m sorry, who the fuck are you?”

“James Barnes. We’re in graphic lit,” he returned as he stood up.

“Riiiight. You’re the pathetic war amp that’s always sitting with Y/n. She was always taking pity on the retards.”

Bucky’s left hand was around Quentin’s neck so fast he even surprised himself.

“If I ever hear her name come out of your putrid rapist mouth ever again I swear to fucking god I will end you.”

Quentin was gasping, clawing at Bucky’s metal arm as it lifted him ever so slightly off the brick walkway. “B-Brock, fucking p-punch this asshole!” he managed to choke out.

Suddenly Bucky was seeing stars as his mouth flooded with the taste of copper and iron, a blinding pain radiating from his nose. But his anger was still controlling him as he swung his arm in defense, making contact several times, though not certain with who. It was enough to spook the two hungover friends. They hurriedly put distance between themselves and Bucky, walking backwards towards the dorm.

“You’re gonna pay for this, Barnes!” Quentin yelled.

“What, you’re gonna tell daddy you got beat up ‘cause you like to drug and rape women?!”

“Fuck you, Barnes!”

“Not even in your fucking dreams,” Bucky returned cooly.

His pulse was still raging and his teeth were chattering, and yet everything was crystal clear. He knew he should be feeling pain, but it was as if a warm calm had washed over him. The only other time he’d felt like this was when Steve pulled him out of the water after his cliff diving accident. He was in shock. He texted his group chat with Steve and Sam.

Bucky: U 2 up? Need help.

His phone rang not even thirty seconds later.

“Where are you? What happened?” Steve’s voice boomed through the speaker.

“At the bench by the trees, you know just before our dorm? Got into a fight with Quentin Beck and Brock Rumlow. I think my nose is broken.”

“Jesus Christ! We’ll be down in less than five. Stay put.”

“Thanks, Stevie.”

“‘Course, Buck.”

It only took two minutes for his friends and roommates to find him. Sam had a bag of frozen peas and Steve had a wet towel.

“Holy shit, Buck, that’s a lot of fucking blood!” The blonde handed him the towel.

Bucky hissed as he wiped his face and pressed it to his already swollen nose. “Ugh,” was all he could say. The shock had worn off and the pain was setting in.

“Here man, this’ll help,” Sam assured as he handed him the bag.

A muffled “thanks” came out from behind the frozen vegetables, followed by another groan.

“What the fuck happened, Buck? Why the hell are you getting into a fight with those two dicks at 7:30 a.m. on a Sunday?”

“It was them. Fuck, I shouldn’t even be telling you, but I’m so fucking pissed. It was them. They’re the ones who…”

Bucky couldn’t find the words. He couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. And he didn’t have to. Sam and Steve pieced it together immediately.

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, closing his eyes at the slight relief the peas were bringing him. The pain was present now, and morphing into a sharp ache that spread across his cheeks and behind his eyes.

The three friends stayed silent for a moment, then Steve spoke up.

“Before I start having to figure out how to get one of my best friends out of jail for murder, can we take you to the clinic?”

Bucky chuckled at how well the blonde knew his thought processes.

“Sure, no murder for today. I promise.”

“Good. Let’s get you up then. You think you can walk the five minutes to the med building?”

Bucky nodded, and the two friends each took a side, guiding Bucky away from what looked like a violent crime scene and towards the clinic.

---------------------------------------------------

When Y/n awoke to an empty room, her heart sank a little. She looked at her clock: 8:17 a.m. She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. How could she be crushing on someone after everything that had happened? How could she even want to be around men after that?

But maybe it was because of what happened that she wanted Bucky even more now. To prove to her not all men were sex-crazy assaulting assholes. That not all men just saw her as an object. That maybe there might be someone that wanted her for her, not her body. That respected her and was actually interested in who she was as a person.

Bucky seemed like one of the good ones. He would laugh when she made jokes about white male fragility. When the outing of sexual aggressors that was happening on campus came up, Bucky seemed to listen so intently when Y/n had shared some of her shitty experiences with him. He’d mentioned the training he was making the swim team go through. She’d never met any man like him. So supportive, aware of his privilege, and genuinely committed to making a difference.

Maybe that’s why Y/n felt so safe with him when he found her on Friday. And why she was actually relieved when he said he was sleeping over the previous night. He didn’t make her feel embarrassed about what happened. He just listened, like he always did.

Y/n sighed again, then forced herself out of bed. She felt exhausted yet wide awake, and suddenly was overcome by an urge to get out of the house. She’d go grab a coffee or maybe something more soothing—she didn’t really need anything upping her anxiety at this point. Then she could pick up the medical letter from the clinic. That could be her outing for the day. Dr. Cho had said to take baby steps, after all.

By the time Y/n got to the clinic she was already worn out and just wanted to be back at her dorm. Nat and Wanda were still asleep when she got up and she had wanted to try going out by herself. But once she’d made it to the cafe, regret for not waiting for the redheads to accompany her began seeping in.

She felt so exposed walking around campus, as if somehow every single person she passed knew what had happened to her. It made her chest flood with shame and embarrassment and all she wanted to do was crawl up into a ball in her bed. The almond steamed milk was calming her nerves a bit, but only enough to get her to the clinic. She’d b-line back to the dorm immediately after.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up my letter from Dr. Cho? My name is Y/n L/n, I was here yesterday but the printer wasn’t working?” Y/n said meekly.

“Right, there was a sticky note saying you’d come today. Dr. Cho also wanted me to give you these,” the receptionist said as she handed Y/n what looked like a few info-sheets. She couldn’t bear to look at them at that moment so she folded them along with the note and stuck them into her bag.

“Thanks, tell her thank you.” Y/n’s expression dropped. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go, that’s my friend,” she quickly turned away from the reception desk as she saw Bucky walk out of the exam room hallway.

“Oh my god, Bucky, are you ok?”

“Y/n, what are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

“Jesus, you’re covered in blood and your face is swollen and you’re worried about me?” She put her hands on his shoulders to inspect the damage more closely. The worry in her eyes was enough to melt Bucky’s heart.

“I’m ok, I promise. It’s a hairline fracture in the bridge, but didn’t have to get it reset or anything. Doctor says it should be healed in about six weeks. And I get the next three days off, so there’s that.”

“How did it… who did this to you?” Y/n asked as she pulled her arms from his shoulders, as if she might already know the answer.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck with his metal hand, his eyes shifting away from her as he searched for a way to avoid the truth. He didn’t want to upset her, didn’t want her to think he’d betrayed her. Unintentionally, Sam and Steve came to his rescue.

“There you are, Buck. That was fast. Oh, hey, Y/n! Good to see you... again...” Sam trailed off, realizing the awkwardness of the situation.

Y/n’s cheeks burned immediately as she was bombarded with flashes of Friday night. “I’m, um, thanks… uh—”

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. Please. We’re just, we’re glad we could help.” Steve chimed in.

“And we’re so fucking sorry that happened,” Sam added.

“Guys! Jesus. Not really the right venue, hm?” Bucky cut in sharply. “Let’s all get out of here, yeah? You want me to walk you back to your dorm, Y/n?”

Y/n’s shoulder’s dropped. Saved by Bucky, again. “Are you serious right now? You’ve got a broken nose and are asking to walk me home? Does he have any self preservation?” She turned to the two friends?

Sam and Steve burst out laughing.

“Oh, I like her,” Sam chuckled. “We’ve actually gotta run to practice, we’re already 15 minutes late. I’ll tell coach you’re going to be off and will be in touch with them. Y/n, do you think you could make sure this moron makes it back to our dorm?”

“You got it, captain,” she grinned warmly.

“Y/n, you really don’t have to—”

“Don’t listen to him,” Steve cut in. “He needs all the help he can get.”

“I’ve got him, don’t worry, boys.”

And she meant it. The anxiety and panic that had been building in her chest was now squashed by a sense of duty and purpose. What a powerful medicine, to be needed.

The four walked out of the clinic and into the crisp autumn morning, parting ways after saying goodbyes that were much less awkward than their hellos.

“You really don’t need to do this. It’s only five minutes from here.” Bucky protested as they started down the walkway.

“James, please. It’s the least I could do after all you’ve done for me these past few days. I want to help. Let me help.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Y/n. I need you to know that.” He stopped and looked at her with a fierceness in his eyes that made her shiver.

“I, I know. I just, please, it’s helping to have a distraction,” she admitted softly.

“I’m glad my pain and suffering could bring some benefit to you,” Bucky returned cheekily.

“Fuck, sorry!” Y/n covered her mouth in embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant, I’m so sorry.”

“Y/n, sweetheart,” he backtracked, placing his hand on forearm to lower it from her mouth, “I was just joking. You’re all good.”

“I… you never answered me. Who did this to you?”

Bucky sighed. “I need you to know I didn’t say anything specific. We’ll not at first. I just, after you told me last night, I was so fucking pissed. And I know I’m making this about me and I shouldn’t be and that’s exactly why I didn’t say anything last night. And you weren’t supposed to even find out about this. But I saw the two of them this morning at the cafe and I just fucking snapped and I called him a fucking rapist and started choking him and then I threatened him to never say your name again and then I think Rumlow punch me and then I threw a few back and then—”

Suddenly Bucky’s nervous rambling was cut off by Y/n’s tight embrace, and he could feel her chest hitching slightly against his.

“Thank you,” she whispered, “thank you so much.”

Bucky exhaled in relief. “I thought you would be mad at me, that I had betrayed your trust. I’d never get involved without your consent. I know it’s not my place. I just lost control and I’m sorry but I’m not really sorry because he fucking deserves so much more than that and—”

“Bucky,” Y/n stopped him, releasing their hug to gently place a hand on his cheek, “You have no idea how much this means to me. You words, your support. Everything is so fucked up, but having you around during this has made me feel safe. So thank you.”

Bucky leaned into her touch. “Whatever you need, Y/n. I’m here. Anytime, any place.”

Y/n searched his eyes for a moment before nodding once. “Let’s get you home and under some ice. That looks painful as fuck.”

Bucky laughed softly, “Yeah, it’s not the most pleasant feeling.”

The two turned back towards the dorm, Y/n lacing her fingers with Bucky’s as they continued down the path.

Next chapter

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aphroditepeter · 2 years

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Pity Party - Starker

First post I guess <3

I suddenly remember reading this one fanfiction called 'Pity Party' a few years ago where the main character has Peter Pan Syndrome and he was throwing his birthday party but no one came and I immediately thought of Starker.

Please bear with me, I wrote this at 2 a.m. instead of sleeping so I am sorry if there are any mistakes.

Tags: Mentions of bullying, Feminine!Peter, Older!Tony, Dark!Tony, Underage, Whump, Age differences, Implied non-con, etc.

So feminine Peter has Peter Pan Syndrome and he is super excited to have his 16th birthday party.

A few days ago before his birthday, he already gave almost everyone he knows at school the invitation cards to his party, including his bullies, Quentin Beck, and his asshole friends who keep on harassing him mentally and physically. But, Peter being the sweetheart he is, doesn’t mind the bullying and instead has a crush on Quentin.

He knew that it is the wrong thing to do to invite them but then again, he thought that maybe they will not bully him anymore once they have come to his house and saw how amazing his birthday party is. Plus, naïve Peter thought that maybe, just maybe, Quentin will realize that Peter is not that bad after all despite him being different and he might fall in love with Peter just like the way Peter did.

Due to his excitement, Peter planned the most perfect birthday party he has ever done throughout his whole life.

He already picked all the birthday balloons, chosen a strawberry-flavored birthday cake (his favorite), and put on pink banners everywhere. Literally, everything you need for a birthday party.

He even picked his own birthday outfit, consisting of a pink sweater with a white mini pleated skirt and white knee-high socks that just scream cuteness.

Aunt May did help him to put a little bit of makeup on his face, making him look even prettier than he usually does that even Peter himself keeps on blushing when thinking of what Quentin will think of him later when he and the others arrive.

Since Aunt May has to go to work until late at night, she can’t join him and only wished him a happy birthday before she goes to work. Nonetheless, Peter is still in a happy mood as he waits for his guests to appear so that Peter can celebrate his birthday for the very first time with other people besides his aunt.

He waits and waits and waits. An hour begins to pass. Then two hours, before three to four hours pass and Peter falls asleep due to being tired of waiting.

When Peter wakes up, he realizes that it is almost night and not a single person has made an appearance outside his house or even knock on the door to surprise him.

Feeling sad, Peter cries so hard that he starts hitting himself repeatedly. He blames himself for thinking so gullible that people will come to his birthday party when he should have noticed the look on their faces when he gave them their invitation cards. Nothing but shame and disgust were shown on their faces.

He should also blame himself for thinking that Quentin will arrive here and spend time with him when he knows that Quentin and his friends might be having fun somewhere else while laughing at Peter’s naiveness and stupidity.

Peter thinks that he is at fault. Maybe it is because of his childish behaviors that are different and unlike any normal teenager at his school. And maybe it is because the way he dresses up is too feminine and how he loves to wear pastel outfits, especially pink ones.

Peter is about to go to his room and forget about everything that has been happening when he suddenly hears a knock on the door.

Feeling relieved, Peter wipes his tears and runs towards the door. Probably thinking that someone he knows, his aunt, or even Quentin, has finally come to celebrate his birthday.

Surprisingly, when he opens the door, a man who is much older than him is standing in front of his door with a smile on his face.

He looks like he is in his late 30s or early 40s but Peter admits that he is handsome. But he shouldn’t think of that. He only likes Quentin!

The man calls himself Tony Stark. He tells Peter that he is one of the people that live in Peter’s neighborhood and he decided to go visit him when he heard Peter is throwing a birthday party.

Peter feels uneasy as he has never seen Tony around the neighborhood as long as he has lived here. He quickly remembers his aunt’s bits of advice of not letting strangers talk to him or letting them enter the house without his aunt’s permission.

Yet, after Tony convinces him that he is one of the neighbors here and he looks nice (not to mention Peter wants at least one person to hang out with him during his birthday), Peter decides to let Tony inside.

Because someone is willing to spend time with Peter, Peter’s mood has become better. He happily tells Tony about his birthday cake and goes to the kitchen to show Tony where he put his cake so he can have a little taste.

What Peter doesn’t realize is that Tony has locked the door. And he is standing behind Peter with a dark look on his face.

Let’s just say, Tony prefers to taste something or someone that is much sweeter than the birthday cake.

#starker #tony stark/peter parker #starker prompt #ironspider #peter x tony #tony x peter #feminine peter parker #dark tony

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mirkysconcubinefiction · 3 years

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Kinda the Secretary

Plot IdEa:

MobBucky! x Reader (either gender but I write as female) swear warning.

Bucky isn't a fool. He knows there's a snitch in his midst. Someone is talking and he's sure it's you.

You are after all here - his secretary/PA - as an undercover to take him down.

He should have killed you but it would have been too easy. Too obvious. So Bucky treated you accordingly.

With what he was paying you it wasn't worth the hassle. First week you're hired you dress in business casual, fetch coffee, answer phone, play candy crush.

Second week there's a hidden camera in every corner, listening devices just about everywhere and there's a God dam dress code.

Skirts - heels - makeup - blouses... you had to take a stupid selfie and send it to him. He complained about your wardrobe and you snidely made a comment that paying rent was more important than making sure each day was something new and titillating.

What does the biggest asshole mob boss of the east coast do? He has someone deliver you clothes every week. A fucking rotation of mini skirts, busty blouses, some with cutouts showing off an inappropriate amount of skin, stilettos with red bottoms and pencil thin heels that made you self conscious of your weight.

God... you would die if your luscious ass snapped a heel and tipped over.

Also. Your desk. Your beautiful mahogany desk with it's hand carved character was replaced by a modern monstrosity and positioned in a way that the asshole Boss could look up from his desk, peer through the glass, and see right up your skirt.

Accepting this stupid assignment was supposed to be easy.

Easy money.

Paid time off from assignment after assignment, working a desk job was supposed to be a vacation.

Paid hours from the government and paid by a man easy on the eyes but he was a good excuse to not do shit. You were fine funneling money into your bank account and pretend to be a loyal dog for the cause.

You didn't care about the drugs, the gambling, the murdering and typical old fashioned business.

James Buchanan Barnes was your retirement. Last a year with his murderous tendencies and you could apply for permanent leave of your secret government job and cash in years worth of OT, Vacation, and Sick leave.

Instead Bucky the asshole ran you ragged. It was as if he knew you were here for shits and giggles.

You're not stupid. The bastard has a mole - it was that incel Quentin Beck - the guy was creepy and got a hard on over being Bucky.

Instead you have fun. Either you survive the year or you die. If Bucky wanted you to dress like the office slut then so be it.

Underwear? Meh, laundry day.

Bra a dark shade that stuck out from your tops? Can do.

Nails? Black French tips, pointy witch nails, bedazzled with fake stones? Done.

Pedicures? You thrived in pampering yourself.

You deserved it.

No matter how much was stacked on your plate you got it done. Late nights? Early mornings? Skipped lunches? Whatever it took you made sure it was perfect.

Sucked that the minions took to bothering you at least it annoyed the asshole Boss

Had to suck moreso for the asshole Boss when you didn't fall into his amateur ruses. Giving you bread crumbs to see if you would snitch.

The frustration looked good on the man.

The scowl.

The pacing.

Eventually it comes to a head when the higher ups question you. They send people to bother you. To intimidate you for information to put the asshole man away.

You ignore it until it gets physical. They're aggressive and now they believe you're a traitor. You break a heel when someone pulls you into a stairwell. It's a dirty fight. Woman to woman and you regret wearing your hair loose.

Your nail chips.

Another breaks off and it hurts since it tore off part of your real nail.

You toss the woman out of the stairwell and leave her in a heap. Thankfully you have spare clothes at work, you take off your broken heels, pick up your bag, and run up the stairs and away from the mess left behind. Your head is down as you have to walk through the garage to get to the business entrance of the company that was a front for the heavy stuff.

Unfortunately you're recognized and someone tattle, calling their boss to tell him you're a mess.

Making it to the office you hurry to the coat closet where your spare uniform is hanging in a garment bag. Leaving is another story as Bucky is suddenly there, filling the doorway and he's pissed.

You try and fix your hair and hide your sore hand with it's broken nail but he's taking you in. Dirty, bruised, bleeding, hot mess with torn and rumpled clothing.

He leads you to his private bathroom, his goons quiet as he pushes you inside and closes the door. He's careful and gentle as he helps you undress, you don't fight it, he cleans you up, wipes away the makeup, checks for a bump on your head, helps you redress and even sits you on his marble counter and cleans your feet.

Unexpected and weird.

"Stay here" he says and leaves.

Later once a doctor checks you over, finger is bandaged, the cuts and bruises are tended, he shows you security footage of the stairwell.

He knows.

He's had you followed.

One day you're an agent of the government playing secretary and the next you're the girlfriend of an infamous mob boss.

It's all i got so far 😅

Too many stories working on so here you go. Hashtag and @ if interested 🖤

#mirkysconcubinefiction #fanfiction #avengers #writing prompt #fanfic #dark #marvel #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky #dark bucky barnes #bamf #reader insert

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idy-ll-ique · 4 years

Text

New Plan.

Pairing: Quentin Beck x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Requested: Nope

Summary: Quentin is so close to defeating Tony Stark and Peter Parker— unfortunately for him, he met Y/N at the last moment and fell head over heels for her. His love for her was so strong, he gave up on his evil plans and settled for the next best thing— driving those who had a crush on her up a wall.

Author's Note: Hi guys! Here is the disclaimer. Have fun reading this! (also because I'm stupid and out of ideas they play the American version of antakshari lmfao) Please excuse small grammatical mistakes and typos :)

---

"Alright, guys, be calm!" Y/N shouted at the bus full of excited teenagers. Y/N wasn't a teen, she was here to chaperone a trip. Why was she chosen, you ask? Y/N was a friend of the Avengers, that's why. Peter suggested she come along and she agreed. What was there to lose? "We're going to another country, Ms Y/L/N, this is the best day of my life!" a student, Anita, told her excitedly. Y/N chuckled, she supposed it was a bit exciting. Another half an hour later, their bus full of people reached the airport. The students got down from the bus.

The group of 15 students, along with 2 teachers and one chaperone, went through the security checks and went to the waiting room. "Aren't you even a little excited, Y/N?" Peter asked, sitting next to the woman. "I guess," she sighed, looking away. "Is anything the matter?" Peter asked, gently turning her face towards him. Both of them heard a wolf whistle and rolled their eyes. "For some reason, I have a bad feeling about this trip. It's so fun, I don't know why I'm tense," Y/N admitted sadly.

"Aw, it's okay, Y/N, I'm sure nothing can go wrong with this trip! We've defeated the baddest bad there was, I don't think there's any villain left who could ruin our trip. Cheer up, sis." Peter often called Y/N 'sis', for their bond was like that of siblings. Soon, their flight number was announced. The class boarded the flight. Y/N reluctantly sat with the two teachers, even though she wanted to sit with Ned and Peter. Throughout the flight, the teachers, along with Y/N, discussed the rules of the trip. As the flight was about to land, Y/N felt something deep inside her gut.

And the feeling was bad.

---

"You know, Beck, you should meet Y/N. You'll like her, she's awesome!" Peter said, grinning at Quentin Beck. Quentin considered for a moment. Y/N, who was that? By name, she sounded interesting. "Can we meet her now?" he asked Peter slowly, stroking his beard. "Sure, we can go back to the hotel!" The two men stood up and left the bar. Peter took Quentin to the hotel where his class was staying. "Wait here, I'll be back with Y/N." Quentin nodded and Peter took off, running up the stairs.

Quentin smirked, leaning against a wall. For now, he thought of ways he could use this Y/N to manipulate Peter Parker. You see, Mysterio (as Quentin liked to call himself) wasn't good at all, he was an evil, evil man. Here to destroy Spider-Man and Iron Man, his motives were corrupt. First, he needed to have a good look at Y/N. What was her relationship with Peter? Were they friends? Was she his girlfriend? As soon as Beck thought about Y/N being Peter's girlfriend, a shiver ran down his spine. Goosebumps appeared on his skin and he felt uncomfortable, uneasy and nauseous.

Quentin shook his head, also shaking away the bad feeling. What had just happened?

"Beck, there you are! Meet Y/N!" Quentin looked up from the floor to see Peter running towards him, a firm hold on Y/N's hand as she followed him, begging him to slow down. They came to a halt in front of Quentin. Quentin, meanwhile, was busy staring at Y/N. His mind had stopped working, he couldn't form a single coherent thought. He forgot all about his evil intentions, his master plan, everything. He was close to forgetting his own name and he would have if Y/N had not interrupted him.

"Does he talk?" she whispered to Peter, who swatted her shoulder and threw her an incredulous glance. Quentin's hand balled into a fist as soon as he saw Peter hitting Y/N. No one was allowed to hit her. He soon came to his senses and let his hand fall loose, confused. What was wrong with him? What was this effect Y/N had on him? "Quentin, are you okay?" He looked at Peter and Y/N, who stared at him with concerned eyes. "I'm… I'm fine. Y/N, right? I'm Quentin, Quentin Beck."

He held his hand out but instead, Y/N gave him a tight hug. A bit shocked, he returned the hug, putting his strong arms around her waist. "Thanks for protecting Peter," she mumbled. "My duty," Quentin whispered back, patting her head as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. He threw a panicked glance at Peter but the young man could only shrug. "Go with it," he mouthed, a smirk blooming on his face. What the hell was Parker thinking?

"Um, Y/N, are you alright?" Quentin asked a few minutes later and Y/N pulled away, sniffling. Quentin suddenly felt cold, he wanted her in his arms again. "I'm fine, I was just worried about Peter. I told him I had a bad feeling about the trip and then… then that horrid creature attacked-" "Y/N! Don't worry, I can handle myself out there, I'm big now. I fought Thanos, for God's sake!" Peter groaned, crossing his arms. "You also died, young man! Do you know how that made me feel? I was depressed for months after your death, after everyone's death!" Quentin stared at the two as they bickered.

Why did Y/N have that effect on him? He had to call off his entire plan, it seemed worthless now. Sure, he had a grudge on Tony Stark for years now, but for what reason? Just because he didn't give Quentin credit? Called his creation BARF? Silly! He could start all over, make something useful, take full credit. And what about Spider-Man? Spider-Man and Mysterio, two people who had nothing against each other. They hadn't met before, too! That's it, Quentin decided, he had to call his entire plan off.

"Quentin, are you alright? You zoned out, again," Peter said, noticing the hollow look in Quentin's eyes. Peter and Y/N had stopped bickering a long time ago. Peter liked Quentin. Especially the way Quentin had helped him defeat the Elemental, Peter found that very fascinating. "Huh? I'm fine," Quentin muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "You seem tired," Y/N said, placing a hand on Quentin's forearm. Peter smirked as he saw the slight blush that arose on Beck's cheeks. So Quentin had a crush on Y/N! That explained all the zoning out! Peter smiled goofily, Y/N and Quentin would make a rather cute couple.

A hot one, too, both of them were very attractive. "I am, had a long day," Quentin chuckled, placing his own palm on Y/N's hand. "You should go rest. I hope you have a place, if not, I can book a room in this hotel," Y/N smiled. She had to admit, Quentin Beck was the hottest and the most handsome guy Y/N had ever seen. And she knew Tony Stark. It was a given she had a crush on him. She hoped they would meet again so she could ask him for a date before the trip ended. "So, uh, Y/N, I'm going now."

Y/N snapped out of her thoughts and smiled at Quentin. "Goodnight," she said, gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked back to her room. Peter gave Quentin a huge smirk as Quentin blushed furiously, two pink spots showing up on his cheeks. "Have a crush? Wouldn't blame you, to be honest," Peter shrugged. "What do you mean?" Quentin asked as he walked with Peter out of the hotel. "Steve, Thor, Bucky, Sam, Loki, Dr Strange, heck, even Mr Stark had a crush on Y/N when they first met! She has that effect, Ms Romanoff said it's her 'superpower'," Peter snorted, showing quotation marks with his fingers when he said superpower. Quentin smiled.

On the inside, he boiled of anger. How dare they think that way of Y/N? His, only his. New plan! Exposing Spider-Man was out of the picture now. New Mission: Impressing and wooing Y/N. He would make her his and show those degenerates, those pathetic excuses for Avengers whom Y/N truly belonged to.

---

"Cancel everything."

"But sir-"

"You heard me. Cancel. Everything."

"We've worked so hard-"

"Did I stutter? Just cancel everything, goddamn it!" Quentin screamed. "Y-Yes, sir," Jean sighed and went to alert his other co-workers. Quentin sat down on his chair, his head in his hands. "Sir, are you alright? Do you want water?" Quentin looked up and stared at Anne. "Sure." She went to get him a glass of water. Quentin felt as if he needed something stronger than water but now that Anne had gone to fetch water for him, he supposed he could wait a few minutes before going to the bar. "Here you go, sir," Anne called out, returning with a glass of water.

"Thank you," Quentin mumbled, drinking the water. After he was done, he got up. "I'm going outside, tell everyone else," he told Anne, who nodded. Quentin left the place, going to the bar where he, along with Peter, had celebrated their victory over the elemental not even a few hours ago. Quentin walked into the bar. It was nearly midnight; the bar was still crowded, though. He somehow found a chair in front of the bar and sat. "One beer, please," he called out to the bartender, who nodded. Quentin patted his pockets to check if he had his wallet.

He felt the slight bulge of his wallet and sighed in relief. The bartender placed the glass of beer in front of Quentin and left to serve the other customers. As Quentin raised the glass to have a sip, he heard someone calling his name. At the first call, he thought he misheard someone. The second time he was certain someone was calling him. He turned and smiled to himself as he saw Y/N making her way towards him. "Hi," he said as she sat next to him. "Quentin! I never expected to bump into someone I knew here, right now," Y/N chuckled, running a hand through her hair. "Why are you still awake? you need to sleep."

"Don't tell me what to do," Y/N countered and both of them laughed. Y/N, seeing the glass in front of Quentin, ordered a beer for herself, too. "What are you doing here, if I may ask," Y/N said, smirking at Quentin. "Couldn't sleep," Quentin shrugged. "Me too, to be honest," Y/N sighed. "Why not?" Quentin frowned. His Y/N, not able to sleep? "Bad dreams, you can say," Y/N said, picking up the glass of beer the bartender put in front of her. "I'm sorry," Quentin smiled sadly but she shrugged his apology off. "What were they about?" Quentin blurted out.

"Peter getting hurt. When we were at the New York airport, Peter asked me why I wasn't excited about this trip. I told him I had a bad feeling about the trip. I've been having nightmares every night ever since we arrived here, in Venice. Next stop is Prague, I hope nothing bad happens there," Y/N explained quietly. "How about I join you on your trip? You'll have a friend by your side, plus, I can look after Peter with you," Quentin offered suddenly and Y/N stared at him. "You'll do that for me? You're the best, Quen," Y/N exclaimed with a broad smile, hugging Quentin tightly. Quentin smiled, hugging her back.

"Of course. I have nothing else to do now, right? The Elemental, the sole purpose of my visit to this Earth, is defeated. Where do I go from here?" Quentin said, pulling away from Y/N. "You could go back to your own planet, Quentin. Don't the people there miss you, your friends and family?" Y/N suggested, a tad disheartened that Quentin couldn't stay with her. "Everyone on my planet was destroyed by the other three Elementals, Y/N. There's no point in going back there. Also, I've got friends here, right?" Quentin smiled, taking Y/N's hand.

"Of course you do! We're your friends!" Y/N grinned broadly, clutching Quentin's hand. Quentin sighed in relief, the whole "other planet" story was made up, anyway. Quentin and Y/N quickly finished their beers. Quentin paid for both and the two… ahem… lovebirds walked out of the bar hand in hand. Quentin offered to walk Y/N back to her hotel since it was very late at night. As they walked, Quentin put an arm around Y/N's shoulder to see her reaction.

If she did not push him away, she trusted him. If she pushed him away, she didn't. To his surprise, Y/N shuffled closer to him, pulling his arm tighter around herself. Quentin smirked, she definitely trusted him. And perhaps, liked him back. That was a start. They reached Y/N's hotel in under 10 minutes. "Do you have a mobile phone?" she asked him. He nodded, taking out his phone. She took it and added her number in his phone. "May I get your number?" she grinned. He nodded again, adding his number in her phone. "Tomorrow we're going for a boat ride across the city, something we couldn't do today because of the elemental. Join us?" Y/N questioned, hoping he would say yes.

"Of course I will! A boat ride sounds nice," Quentin grinned. "Cool! Tomorrow, after asking the teachers, I will contact you, sounds good?" Y/N grinned back. "Alright. I'll go now, you need sleep. Goodnight!" Before he could turn, Y/N stopped him, grabbing him by the shoulders.

She leaned on her tiptoes, and pressed a kiss to Quentin's lips, a perfect goodbye kiss. Though Quentin was beyond surprised, he went with it. They way Y/N fitted in his arms, the way the kiss felt, it was as if Quentin and Y/N were a match made in heaven. "Goodnight," Y/N whispered, pulling away from him. Quentin smiled at her. They waved at each other and Quentin left the hotel. A goofy smile found its way to Quentin's lips as he walked towards his lair. The kiss. The goddamn kiss.

---

"Whew! That was awesome, wasn't it?" Mr Dell grinned as the 15 students, 2 teachers and 2 chaperones walked to their hotel. They had just finished a beautiful boat ride across the city, but it was still early in the evening. The class had no plans for the rest of the evening. Peter thought that they'd have to get bored at the hotel. "It so was," Mr Harrington agreed. The students looked at each other with huge grins. Y/N glanced at Quentin to see him already looking at her. "Did you enjoy yourself?" Quentin whispered. The two hung around until they were at the end of the group. "I did, what about you?" Y/N whispered back.

"I did, too."

Both of them gave each other broad smiles. Quentin put his arm around Y/N's shoulder and like the previous day, Y/N shuffled closer to him. "Yo, lovebirds, walk quicker!" MJ called out to them, turning around to flash a quick smirk at them. Quentin and Y/N blushed furiously, quickening their pace. They reached the hotel. "That's it? Nothing else today? It's not even 5!" Flash groaned, stomping his foot. "Well… I suppose you kids can hang out," Mr Dell shrugged. "I have a fun game idea, my cousins and I back in India play this game a lot," Anita piped up. "Which game?" Betty smiled at her.

"It's a song game. One person sings a song and the next person has to sing a song starting from the last letter of the previous song. For instance, if I sang a song and it ended in 'p', then the person after me sings a song beginning with 'p'," Anita explained. The group exchanged glances. "Sounds fun! Where do we play?" "How about my room?" Peter suggested. The two teachers politely declined, claiming they were tired. One other student, James, said he felt nauseous and declined, too.

The 16 other people went to Peter's room. "Team up! How about 8 teams with two people each?" Anita called out. "Sure! There are exactly 8 girls and 8 boys, how about a guy and a girl?" The teams were, hence, decided. Peter and MJ, Ned and Betty, Flash and Anita, Nikki and Carson, Lily and Kyle, Eric and Miley, Ruth and Jason, Y/N and Quentin. Everyone sat wherever they could find place. Y/N and Quentin were squished together in a small bean bag. Both of them squirming around a lot until Quentin grabbed Y/N by the waist and placed her on his lap. "Making moves on Y/N, huh?" Carson teased as Eric and Jason wolf whistled. Peter smirked at the two of them.

"There's no place for two people to sit next to each other in this bean bag," Quentin sighed, rolling his eyes. Y/N was blushing like crazy. "Okay, let's start!” Lily and Kyle were the first people to begin with the song. The game went on smoothly, the teams were actually able to come up with songs that started with a specific letter. Soon, it was Quentin and Y/N's turn. The letter they were given was 'L'. Both of them were lost in thoughts until Y/N suddenly came to her senses. "Let's talk about it, gotta get this off my chest," she sang.

Quentin's eyes widened slightly. Her voice was elysian. "Fall for you, Steve James. Good choice," Nikki applauded, nodding. Y/N continued singing the song as the girls from the other teams sang along. "I fall for you, I fall for you, I fall for you, oh yeah I do, I do," Y/N sang, giggling as Kyle and Carson engaged in a dance off on their seats. Quentin simply stared at Y/N, which made Peter smile to himself. Why couldn’t they just date?

After Y/N was done, the turn landed on Peter and MJ. As they thought about which song to sing, Quentin turned to Y/N. "You have a beautiful voice, Y/N," he told her with a small smile. "Thanks Quen," Y/N smiled, laying her head on his shoulder. He easily put his arms around her waist and they sat there, snuggled into each other's arms. "You guys literally cannot make your relationship any more public," Betty deadpanned humorously. "Shut up," Y/N whispered at Betty's comment, leaning up to give Quentin a small kiss on the lips. She was feeling quite impulsive that day, to be honest.

She knew Quentin reflected her feelings; the way he was always looking at her everytime she turned towards him, the way he had a smile every time she spoke… Y/N was not an idiot. "Ugh, PDA," Lily groaned and Quentin laughed, pressing his lips to Y/N's forehead. This was not how he imagined one of them would make the first move, but he wasn't denying it. This only made his job easier. His job was done, he could say. He impressed Y/N, he wooed her, that was it. Now he would cherish this beauty for the rest of his life.

"Alright, we give up, I can't think of any song that starts with 'Z'!" Y/N heard Ned exclaim. What, Peter and MJ's turn was done already? She was so lost in thoughts. The thing she was thinking about was how Quentin and her were finally dating, all thanks to her. And thankfully he didn't make a scene when she kissed him, he went with it, even.

It was understood.

---

"May!" Peter exclaimed, running towards the woman who was waiting with her arms open. "Dude forgot his luggage," Y/N blinked and Quentin chuckled. They were returning from Prague. The second half of the vacation was awesome, or so were the thoughts of the students. Y/N and Quentin actually had their first date in Prague. "Y/N! Come here!" May called out and Y/N reluctantly left her boyfriend's side to give the woman a hug. "Who's this gentleman? Your boyfriend?" May whispered in her ear and pulled away. "May! Yes, yes he is. We met in Venice," Y/N whispered, giggling. The two ladies looked at Peter and Quentin, who were struggling to get the luggage into May's car.

"Wait, boys, let us help."

After everything was done, the four of them- May, Peter, Quentin and Y/N- sat in May's car. May drove, Peter sat in the passenger seat and Quentin and Y/N sat behind. "So, um, what's your name?" May asked Quentin. "I'm Quentin, Quentin Beck. You're Peter's mom, I assume?" Quentin replied, a smile on his face. "No, dear, his aunt. May, May Parker. How did the two of you meet?" May asked, glancing at Y/N. "Long story…" she mumbled. "Long drive home," May reminded her. Peter volunteered to explain how he and Y/N met Quentin and then Y/N told her how she started dating him. Quentin was quiet throughout, a small smile on his face. This is it, this is life.

Y/N was his, did he want anything else? Actually… yes, he wanted one more thing. To see the faces of the other Avengers as Y/N introduced him to them. Especially the faces of those who had a crush on her. "So, should I drop the two of you off at the Avengers Tower?" May asked. "Sure! Nat, Steve and Tony are waiting," Y/N nodded. "Good!" They reached the Avengers Tower in the next half an hour. Y/N and Quentin got out, collected their luggage and waved goodbye to May and Peter. "Bye guys! We'll see you tomorrow!" May drove away. Quentin and Y/N looked at each other. Together, the two of them had four bags between them. Quentin took two and Y/N took two. They walked inside.

Tony, Thor, Steve, Natasha, Loki, Bucky, Sam and Wanda were waiting in the lobby. "Y/N!" Steve exclaimed as she walked in. Everyone immediately went silent as Quentin walked in next. "Hello!" Quentin waved enthusiastically. "Uh… Y/N, who's this?" Bucky asked slowly. "Why don't you introduce yourself, baby, I need water," Y/N whispered to him. Quentin nodded and Y/N gave him a quick kiss, leaving to get a glass of water. Natasha and Wanda ran after her. "Y/N! Y/N!" She stopped, turning around to face her best friends. "Hi guys! I missed you!" She hugged the two ladies. "Who's the guy? Your boyfriend?"

"Yes! We met one day in Venice and were an official couple the next day," Y/N gushed, filling up a glass of water. "That was quick. Wouldn't blame you, he's hot," Wanda snorted. "Is he Italian?" Natasha asked. "Nope, American. Long story, come sit." The three ladies sat on the nearby couch and Y/N explained everything about the Elemental to them. Quentin, meanwhile, was being glared at by 6 men. "Did she just call you 'baby'?" Steve asked quietly, his arms crossed. "Well, I mean I'm her boyfriend, it only makes sense…" Quentin chuckled with faux nervousness. "Boyfriend? Y/N's dating you? What's your name?" Sam scoffed.

"I'm Quentin, Quentin Beck," Quentin introduced, holding his hand out for a handshake. When no one took it, he let it fall to his side awkwardly. "How did you meet and when did you start dating?" Tony asked sharply. "Well… Peter introduced me to her one day and we were officially a couple the next day," Quentin said slowly. "One day? It took you one day to woo her? We've been trying for 5 years!" Thor exclaimed, enraged. "Oh, uh… sorry?" Quentin offered, still maintaining the nervous look on his face.

Deep inside, though, he was jumping and screaming with joy. This was the exact thing he wanted to witness. "What did she see in you?" Bucky sneered. "I defeated the Elemental, you know," Quentin pointed out. "What the fuck is an Elemental?" Steve asked, scrunching his nose. "Long story. Here to listen?" The 6 men nodded and Quentin explained everything to them. In the end, they were left staring at him in shock. "Also… if you really like Y/N, you wouldn't be so rude to me. If you were friendly with me, that would make Y/N really happy," Quentin pointed out offhandedly.

"Great point. Alright, goldfish, you're accepted," Tony sighed. Quentin grinned. Oh, how he would love driving the male Avengers up the wall everyday.

"Boys, we're getting dinner, are you joining?"

"Sure!"

The 7 men walked towards the ladies and together, the 10 of them went to the dining room to get dinner.

---

A/N: Hi! This is kind of a weird fic, I get it. It is one of my old works, I wrote it like 1 year ago or something. If you do like it, consider leaving a like! It will be much appreciated, thank you!! I love you guys a lot. Please send prompts if you want to read more from me.

#quentin beck x reader #quentin beck x you #quentin beck x y/n #quentin beck x female reader #quentin beck #quentin beck fluff #mysterio #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal x y/n #jake gyllenhaal x female reader #jake gyllenhaal characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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whyihatetonystark · 3 years

Note

The reason why Peter trusted Quentin so much a) Fury trusted mysterio first b)he's a teenager who saw him (like everyone else) save them in Venice - hard to blame a 16yo for trusting him when half of the planet trusted him including faces like fury + I think he wanted to get rid of the glasses because he felt they are too big of a responsibility (which they were cause they are a weapon literally no one should posses). It was also irresponsible for fury and the rest of them to put the whole weight of fighting solely on him while all he wanted is to go on a school trip with his crush and best friend and forget about the superhero duties. Not to mention quentin already caused great damage without access to Edith and he would 100% find a way to do what he did if he didn't manage to manipulate Peter. The bus thing was just a situation of him not knowing how to use the glasses and what they are actually capable of which again mostly not his fault since tony left them to him with no explanation of them and without then fury properly explaining them to him. What I do like to point out that the main man responsible for what Quentin became is Tony Stark. If it weren't for his shitty actions peter wouldn't have to be in that situation in the first place - same thing in Homecoming. Was peter naïve? Yes. Can we blame a 16yo for not being able to handle so much responsibility that was suddenly put on his back? No.

True, Quentin would definitely have found another way. The whole plan didn't depend on Peter much at all. And honestly, if you're getting linked by a guy your almost superior also trusted, can you even be blamed at all? Sure, what he did was reckless, but it was also desparate and completely understandable. Being overwhelmed by this kind of responsibility is probably the most relatable thing that ever happened to Peter, at least in my eyes. Considering the circumstances and the kind of stress he was under, it's very impressive that he managed to salvage anything on that trip at all.

The most irresponsible thing done in that movie was giving a teenager that kind of power without making sure that Peter's protected drom these exact type of situations. Good thing Tony has the status of having died a heroic death, or Marvel would really struggle to somehow redeem him once again

#anon asks #peter parker #spiderman #tony stark #spiderman far from home #ffh #marvel #mcu

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thatsbucknasty · 4 years

Text

she used to be mine (v) waitress au

summary: Inspired by the broadway musical. Y/N Beck is a pie baking force to be reckoned with. She’s pregnant with her lazy ass husband, Quentin Beck’s baby. As everything around her turns upside down, Doctor James Buchanan Barnes charms his way into her life.

pairing: Y/N x Bucky

I will put some warnings in the tags cause I don’t want to spoil everybody but I feel like there are sensitive topics in this one, so go ahead and check the tags!

chapter 5: you will still be mine

You’d think that having an unplanned pregnancy, an unemployed lazy husband and an exhausting job that underpays would be just enough to realize you’re having a bad year. But now, on top of that, said unemployed lazy husband’s truck broke down and I just can’t afford to fix it right now, he’s asking for money cause he already took it to the shop without consulting with me, and it’s not like I can just give him my savings.

He was out all night yesterday, drinking I assume. I have to tell him I’m pregnant. And also, I have to walk to work and to my doctor’s appointment later today, because I can only afford one bus ride per day and usually it would be the one back home from work cause Quentin would drive me in the morning. Life’s just fine and dandy isn’t it?

I’ve seen those videos where women will make a big deal showing their spouse the little pregnancy test and record their reaction. It usually involves tears and hugs and all things pretty, and I can’t help but feel like I’m never gonna have that kind of life. The one with balloons and cake and glitter for the gender reveal party and the baby shower. And I’ve never even wanted those things, but I’m pretty sure Quentin’s reaction will be the farthest from tears and hugs and all things pretty.

“Morning, Y/N, you’re late again. It’s the third time this month”. Sam looks angry at me from the counter, at least he’s back to his grumpy self but I feel bad nonetheless.

“I am so sorry Sam, I swear I’m not doing it on purpose, it’s just that I had to walk and you know 4th street’s closed and-

“Hey, calm down girl. I understand. I know y’all think I’m rude and moody all the time but I just like teasing ya... if you ever need help I can give you a ride in the morning”. Great, now even Sam is pitying me.

“And I know what you’re thinking. ‘He’s pitying me’”, he rolls his eyes at me, “but I care about you girls despite all of our bickering. I’m just offering my help cause we’re pals, aren’t we?” He offers me a cup of coffee and I decline but sit down on the stool.

“Why aren’t you drinking coffee Y/F/N?” Oh shit.

“I uh, I-” Shit, shit, shit.

“Y/N?, tell me what’s going on?”

“Fuck, Sam, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. We are pals, we are! But I didn’t want Nick to know cause I thought he might fire me. I’m pregnant”. I finally sigh and hide my face in my hands, trying hard not to cry in front of him. “God, this is embarrassing”.

“Hey! There’s nothing to be ashamed of here. I understand, actually a lot of things make sense now. The girls know, don’t they?” I hum my answer, my face still in my palms.

“Have you told Quentin yet?” I shake my head and look down at the orange juice he puts in front of me instead of the usual coffee, huh, he can be nice when he really wants to.

“You’re in a real conundrum, aren’t you?”

“Yes I am. He hasn’t been working for the past three months. He didn’t come home last night and we fight almost every day. I don’t know when I’ll start showing but my uniform barely fits and my feet are swollen from walking here. It’s just a matter of time until he notices. I can barely afford my doctor’s appointments. Oh! And I might have a tiny crush on him”.

“Your doctor? Wasn’t he married?”

“How did you- nevermind. Well, he’s getting a divorce, but I am married so nothing’s gonna happen either way”.

“Jesus, I wish I could do something to help you. My offer on the ride still stands, okay?”

“Thank you, Sammy. You’re very kind but knowing my husband, he would never allow it. He’d rather I walk with my swollen feet everyday and I don’t wanna fight with him. I’m just so tired”.

“Y/N, I know this ain’t my place but, why are you still with him?”

“I honestly don’t know anymore. I keep making up reasons when Nat tells me to ‘leave his ass’ but I can’t think of any more good ones”.

The diner was very quiet today, most Tuesdays it is because Al’s Pancake World has a discount. Sam swore he’d keep the secret about my little crush. I just don’t want Nat to have more material for insisting I should leave Quentin right now. And now I’m walking over to the doctor’s office.

The air tonight is so crisp and I appreciate how summer is about to end. Fall has always been my favorite time of the year. I can’t wait for the diner to smell like pumpkin pie every day. Speaking of pie, I brought Bucky some leftovers.

“Good evening, Y/N. Oh gosh, you brought pie?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“I’m starting to think I should give you something back, you really didn’t have to”.

“Oh don’t worry about it, it’s just some leftover ‘Kick in the pants pie’, I know, the name’s a little too aggressive but I had a bad week, don’t judge”.

“No one’s judging here. But care to explain the name?”

“I just- I had a fight with my husband earlier, and whenever I wish I could do something that’s not very nice, I just make it into a pie, you know… to express my feelings in a non-violent way”.

“So you wish you could kick your husband’s crotch but you made a pie instead, got it”. It’s insane and we both laugh about it for a minute and he leans back into the exam table. This is nice, having a friend who I can openly talk about my issues with. Wait, are we friends?

“Do you and your husband fight a lot?”

“Um… why are you asking me this?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just- stress is bad for the baby and, I don’t know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay”, I lean into the exam table next to him, close to him, “we do, we fight a lot. He drives me nuts, and I’m a pain in his ass. That’s just us I guess”.

“I get it. I was a pain in Dot’s ass too”, he scoffs out a cynical laugh and looks at me, “guess she couldn’t deal with that anymore”.

“Can I ask what happened?”

“You can, but I wouldn’t know how to answer. She just got up and left one day. Said she got an internship in New York and we weren’t working anymore, so- she didn’t even give me a real reason, nor a chance to work things out”.

“I’m sorry, Bucky”.

“It’s fine. We always wanted different things. I was raised in a small town and when I went to Chicago for college I was miserable. But I met Dot and I thought life in a big city wouldn’t be so hard if I had her by my side. But then she wanted to do even bigger”.

“Like New York?”

“Yeah. I’m not cut out for that. I love this little town of yours, always did”.

“Oh, so you’ve been here before?”

“Yeah, my grandparents lived here and I would come visit for the holidays. You actually remind me of my grandma”.

“Gee, thanks?” He throws his head back laughing.

“No, I mean because she used to bake like, ten different pies for Thanksgiving. She loved baking. And she was also a little-” He eyes me sheepishly and makes a face.

“A little what, huh?” I smack his arm and try not to laugh at his stupid, cute antics.

“Well, a little strong willed?”

“That’s a euphemism for stubborn”.

“Yeah, it is”. He has the audacity to smirk at me and I can’t help but smile because he says it in a way that feels like a compliment.

Bucky finishes the examination and tells me he’d like to see me again in three weeks. He opens the door for me and we do a little dance of who gets out first. We laugh at each other’s clumsiness and I feel like a teenager. He smells nice, like always. I say goodbye and I find myself hoping the next three weeks go by quickly. I glance at my watch and notice the time. Fuck, has it really been two hours? My appointments usually last thirty minutes tops.

“Hi, Y/N”. Fuck, he’s here already?

“Jesus, Quentin, you startled me. What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to see the game at Phil’s tonight”.

“Yeah? And I thought you were supposed to come home early, you said no extra shifts on Mondays”.

“I- I was-”

“Now don’t lie to me, cause I found your money! That’s right, I did! Why were you keeping money in the closet, huh? I took the money, paid Carl to fix the damn truck and drove over to Nick’s and you weren’t there. That angry redhead chick said you left early, so where, the fuck, were you?” He grabs an empty bottle of beer and throws it against the wall.

“Quentin. Stop it, you’re scaring me! Calm down!”.

“I won’t calm down until you tell me where you were!” He grabs another bottle and raises it above his head, aiming straight at me, I’m frightened and I don’t know what else to do but-

“I’m pregnant!”

Silence. Complete and utter silence. He lowers his arm along with the crystal bottle he’s holding. Tears cascade down my face silently and I can’t help them. I hate crying in front of Quentin but he truly scared me. He’s never been violent towards me. Sure he yells a lot but he never gets like this, and I’m sure he would’ve thrown that bottle at me if I hadn’t told the truth.

“Please say something”.

“You can’t be pregnant, Y/N, and if you are it isn’t mine”. He whispers and I don’t know if I heard him right. I’m at a loss for words for a few seconds.

“Why would you say such a thing? It is yours!”

“No it isn’t! I don’t want it!” He’s yelling again and his words break my heart. If I had the smallest belief that he actually cared for me, it’s gone.

“Quentin? Do you remember that night I went to the Stark’s party with you and we both got drunk? You were wearing your fancy blue shirt with the grey tie, and I had that red dress that you like. This baby is yours. And if you-”

“No, it isn’t! I said it isn’t, Y/N. I- I can’t do this with you, I can’t and I won’t!

“What are you talking about?!”

“You remember Alice? You met her at that party”.

“Right, mini skirt girl, I remember. What about her?”

“She and I-” He looks down at his feet and then back into my eyes and I see it.

“No”. My blood begins to boil. This bastard!

I feel a huge knot in my throat and I can’t breathe. All this time I’ve been grasping for something, anything. Clinging for this marriage to work. Feeling guilty about baking a stupid pie for my doctor, when he’s been sleeping with some girl who’s probably ten years younger than him?!

“No!” I grab the nearest object and throw it at him. And of course it’s a fucking pillow- “Get out! Out, I said! And don’t ever come back!” He’s backing down, opening the door and I yell at the top of my lungs, I don’t care if the neighbors hear me-

“That money you stole from me was for the doctor’s appointments and the hospital bills, I saved up all of that for this baby, your baby, alone! And you’re gonna pay me back! I kept a roof over your fucking head, paid for your fucking beers and you cheated on me? If you ever come near me or this baby I will kill you, you hear me?”

I grab his keys and put them on my apron’s pocket.

“And I’m keeping the stupid truck!”

He leaves, on foot, and just like that I’m a single mother.

“AH!”

What is this? The most terrifying pain strucks my pelvis and I feel a discharge in my underwear. No, no. Baby don’t do this. We are gonna be fine, you and I. I promise. Please. Don’t.

chapter 6: a soft place to land

a/n: pls reblog if you liked it c: and don’t kill me, I promise fluff is coming!

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starwarsnonsense · 4 years

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Top 10 films of 2019

Here’s my very belated top 10 films of 2019! Note that this is a list of films that were released in the UK theatrically in 2019, meaning it includes certain releases that would be considered to belong to 2018 by others.

Honourable mentions: Joker, Hustlers, Booksmart, A Private War, Fighting With My Family

(And don’t worry - Little Women, 1917 and Uncut Gems are all already on my list for 2020.)

Look out for my most anticipated films of 2020 list, coming soon!

With that out of the way, here’s my list (in ascending order)! Do share your picks in the comments!

10. The Irishman (dir. Martin Scorsese)

This is clearly the work of a master filmmaker with much on his mind. In telling the story of Frank Sheeran, Scorsese is telling the story of a man who makes his trade in violence. Instead of elevating Frank as a hero or a figure of glamour, he’s consistently shown to be rather pathetic. He stumbles into the role of hitman for various factions of the criminal underworld, and sticks to it seemingly because it’s what comes most easily to him. The violence enacted by Sheeran is inane and routine, with no thought given to the personal cost until it is far too late. The final 15 minutes of this film show a life petering out with a whimper, laying bare the indignities of old age and the cold, empty horror of enduring it with no company besides your own regrets. The Irishman is a portrait of a life lived badly, and in the hands of anyone besides Scorsese it could have been dry and tedious. Instead, the filmmaking is incredibly assured and the editing is whip-sharp (in Thelma Schoonmaker we trust), making it a pleasure to watch even with the lengthy runtime.

9. The Farewell (dir. Lulu Wang)

The Farewell is a personal story about a young Asian-American woman (Awkwafina) struggling to reconcile her heritage with her current situation and values - specifically, she is tested when her grandmother is diagnosed with cancer and the wider family make the decision to hide the truth from her. The Farewell does a fantastic job of generating empathy for all the different perspectives and positions in play, but it’s truly anchored by Awkwafina’s amazingly nuanced and tender performance - basically, anyone who’s ever loved a grandparent should leave this feeling incredibly moved and inspired. The themes of The Farewell are both specific to the Asian-American experience and general to anyone who has struggled with maintaining bonds over a vast distance, whether physical or cultural. Lulu Wang is an exciting new voice in cinema, and I will watch her career with great interest.

8. Pain & Glory (dir. Pedro Almodóvar)

Almodóvar is one of my favourite filmmakers, and one of the reasons I love his work so much is its wild diversity. My favourite from him is The Skin I Live In, a film that could not be more different than Pain & Glory. This is a small, very personal film telling the story of a middle-aged director (Banderas, clearly playing a version of Almodóvar himself) who’s struggling with his legacy as a filmmaker and the increasing privations attached to middle age. Suffering in the present, Salvador finds himself retreating into memories of his childhood - particularly of his mother (Penelope Cruz) and his first crush. The childhood sequences were where the film really sung for me, perfectly capturing the sun-dappled glow of reminiscences of childhood. And the ending, where Almodóvar truly shows his hand, is delightfully mischievous and the perfect cap on this very personal picture.

7. Once Upon a Time in ... Hollywood (dir. Quentin Tarantino)

This is a slice of life movie, but while that might call to mind ‘kitchen sink’ dramas, this is unabashedly a ‘slice of life’ movie about Hollywood and the mythology that has developed around it. It’s meandering and feels rather aimless for the bulk of its runtime, but that’s kind of the point. It’s exactly what the title promises in that it recaptures what life was like in a very specific time and in a very specific place - it’s an idealised, loving depiction of the Hollywood of the time, with the movie stars, flawed and fading as they are, cast as heroes menaced by the drugged-up hippies poised to dismantle the status quo. It ends in the fashion you’d expect from Tarantino, but here I found his revisionist approach to history remarkably poignant and effective. Film is a magic medium, with Hollywood serving as the ultimate dream factory - it feels completely right that Tarantino would attempt to use celluloid to right one of the great tragedies of Hollywood history.

6. One Cut of the Dead (dir. Shinichirou Ueda)

I went into this with no expectations whatsoever - and what a treat it was! One Cut of the Dead is easily one of the funniest movies I’ve seen in years, taking what initially seems like a trite concept (a crew is filming a zombie movie at a desolate location ... only to discover that the zombies are real!) and twisting it in a truly ingenious way. The comedy is very broad, but it is consistently delightful and always manages to avoid becoming crass - the movie even has some really sweet family dynamics at the centre of it, which gives it some real emotional heft. The success of this film is heavily reliant on a major twist that occurs part-way through, so the best advice I can give you is to stay as far away from spoilers for this one as possible - go in blind, and you will be amply rewarded for your faith.

5. Midsommar (dir. Ari Aster)

I went into this film with reservations, since I wasn’t a huge fan of Hereditary (by the same director), which I found to have extraordinary moments but iffy execution overall. This movie, however, wowed me. While marketed as a freaky/arty horror film, the director has described it as a fairy tale, which is the level on which is spoke to me. Midsommar follows Dani (an incredible Florence Pugh), a young woman who has suffered a terrible loss, as she travels with her boyfriend and his friends to a pagan festival in the Swedish countryside. Dani is painfully isolated, and her grief is hers to shoulder alone since her boyfriend is un-receptive and entirely unprepared to help her. Over the course of the film, destruction and creation are conflated in ways that are both beautiful and horrific - this film spoke to me on a profound level, and the way it ended gave me an incredible sense of catharsis. This won’t be for everyone, for I found it to be a deeply special film. Let’s all raise a toast to the imminent, and much welcome, reign of Florence Pugh.

4. Parasite (dir. Bong Joon-Ho)

Parasite is that rare film that more than lives up to the massive hype surrounding it (you don’t get more hyped than winning Best Picture at the Academy Awards!). It’s hard to write about this film without spoilers, since so much of the joy of Parasite lies in discovering what the hell is going on. This is an ‘upstairs downstairs’ movie for the 21st century, where the downstairs people have fierce designs on the lives and pleasures enjoyed by their social superiors. The rich people here are not vilified, though they are depicted as vapid and shallow, perpetually searching for new ways to fill their lives with meaning. Their struggling counterparts from the rough side of the city are struggling only to get by - their lives too hard to allow time for such indulgences. This is a film about the fantasy of social advancement, and the power that dreams have to hold us in thrall to hopeless ambitions. It’s masterfully directed, acted and designed, and it has been extremely gratifying to see it receive such widespread recognition.

3. Marriage Story (dir. Noah Baumbach)

I was always going to see this (hey Adam Driver!) but I was entirely unprepared for how great Marriage Story was. Easily Baumbach’s best film, Marriage Story is a masterclass in acting and character writing - it’s fiercely intelligent in how it constantly forces you to reassess what you’re seeing and where your sympathies lie. Does Charlie seem like an oblivious, navel-gazing asshole? Sure, but he’s also confused and vulnerable and thrown entirely off balance by his awakening consciousness of his wife’s dreams and ambitions. Nicole is self-effacing and self-denying, as so many women are, which makes her emerging confidence and newfound sense of direction incredibly satisfying to witness. In the second half of Marriage Story, Driver’s Charlie undoubtedly takes the spotlight - it’s clear to me that he becomes the focus largely because he continues to flounder as Nicole finds her footing. Baumbach, wisely I feel, is most interested in his characters when they’re lost, struggling to be better but barely understanding what that means. Even if you don’t sympathise with Charlie by the end of Marriage Story, I can promise you will come away with a thorough understanding of him thanks to Driver’s extraordinary performance. Superlative work, all round. (It’s also, just for the record, the only film of 2019 to make me cry.)

2. Portrait of a Lady on Fire (dir. Céline Sciamma)

This is the 2019 film I am most excited to see again (it’s coming out in a week in the UK - I’m so excited!). Sciamma’s film is an incredibly moving and deeply beautiful love story, depicting how a female artist in 18th century France falls in love with the woman she has been covertly employed to paint. Portrait is very much a film about the act of looking, and in many ways it’s the ultimate female gaze film - it’s all about women looking at women, as depicted by a female filmmaker. Gazes are political as much as they’re romantic - here, our two heroines drink each other, aware of exactly how dangerous and forbidden their mutual intoxication is. The woozy thrall of their relationship is exquisitely conveyed through the cinematography and direction, and the final shot - which I won’t spoil - is an all-timer that serves as an exquisite coda to the entire film. This is a truly superb film, and I’m still incensed that it received no substantial awards recognition. Let’s hope it goes down in film history as the masterpiece it is, yet another omission proving the limitations of the Oscars as a metric for great art.

1. The Favourite (dir. Yorgos Lanthimos)

This completely wowed me, and against all the odds it stuck with me as the best film I saw in 2019 - it features a trio of magnificently compelling female characters (played by Olivia Colman, Rachel Weisz and Emma Stone) operating at the court of Queen Anne (Colman is Anne, Weisz and Stone are courtiers), and is laser-focused on the shifting sands of the power dynamics between them. The script is savage without sacrificing poignancy, witty without ceasing to be emotionally honest. And while I’ve seen some react to this film as a comedy (and it certainly has laughs, most of which are tightly packaged with shock), for me it was very clearly a drama about the inscrutable and complicated relationships that exist between women. Specifically, it is about how those relationships run the gamut from sincere affinity to ruthless manipulation. This is a spectacular movie, visually and thematically rich in every frame, and it also has the best use of an Elton John song in 2019 (sorry, Rocketman!).

Fly away, skyline pigeon fly, towards the things you’ve left so very, so very far, behind.

#the irishman #portrait of a lady on fire #the favourite #midsommar #adam driver #marriage story #florence pugh #the farewell #awkwafina #parasite #once upon a time in hollywood #film #cinema #best of the year #2019 #one cut of the dead #pain and glory

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renee-writer · 3 years

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Julia Chapter 1 Secrets

A/N This one is for my mom. Loved and missed.

She sees her in the shape of her eyes, in their color in her unruly hair. Known all through pictures. For she can’t recall more then a few details. Her laugh, the smell of roses on her skin. Her mum. Julia.

She had died when she was just five. Her brother, her Uncle Lamb, had taken her in. Her death is almost a complete unknown. A quick illness, that is all she had been told. She wasn’t aloud in hospital and had told her mum goodbye over the phone.

“It is better this way lamb. You should remember her healthy.” Uncle Lamb had said. It seemed logical, at the time.

As she grew older and began to understand the implications of being an orphan, as her dad had passed before her birth, it becomes less so.

“I should have got the chance to hug her, kiss her cheek, felt her arms about me! Maybe then I wouldn’t be haunted by ‘what ifs’, by her, herself.” She had confronted Uncle Lamb when she was ten. A gifted and articulate girl is Claire Beauchamp. She is haunted, feeling arms that aren’t there. Smelling roses when none are about.

“So sorry Claire. We really thought it was for the best. She wasn’t the mum you knew, towards the end.”

“I don’t know who she was! That is the point.”

There is nothing he can say to that. She was right but they meant to spare her.

As she gets older, the longing for her only gets stronger. When she starts to develop, gets her first cycle, has her first crush. Uncle Lamb is a dear but not her mum. Now she is an adult and Uncle Lamb has called her into their study. He only does this when he has something important to discuss with her.

“Claire, your mum left instructions for your eighteenth birthday. First, there is an inheritance. It should cover your university. But,” a deep sigh. He isn’t sure how his niece will respond to the next bit of news. “A few secrets she didn’t wish you to know until you reached majority.”

“What is it Uncle Lamb?” She sits perched on the edge of the seat. It is the same chair she has spent many a day sitting in, her laptop, then tablet, on her lap as she studied. So many memories. He mentally shakes his head. Focus Quentin, he orders himself.

“First thing she wished you to know is that she passed of breast cancer.” He gives her a moment. Her brown eyes darken as she takes all these in. A very intelligent woman, she is quick to put everything together. The way her chest had felt different, her thinning hair, how they didn’t wish her to see her. Finally, her age. Her mum was just twenty-six when she died.

“Good God!”

“I know. I am so sorry. She was naught but skin and bones, bald, flat chested. Julia didn’t wish..”

*Screw that! I had a right. A bloody right to see her.”

“Yes. Lamb I was grieving hard. My sister.. how to see to you. I made a poor choice. Forgive me.”

“I can’t do less.” She brushes her tears away. “You have done an excellent job seeing to me, after all. The only parent I have ever known.”

“That is the other thing. That isn’t quite true. Your father may be alive. Your mum was ashamed, getting pregnant out of wedlock. So she told you he had died. Was going to tell you more when you were old enough. But then..”

“My father may be alive! What is his name? Where is he?” She bounces off the seat and stands impatiently waiting.

“Murtagh Fraser. He lives in Scotland.”

#my writing #outlander fanfic #new work #julia #secrets #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #modern au #outlander fandom

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writing-the-end · 4 years

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LoL Chapter 23- the Labyrinth

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU and Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

So close to the end, so close to winning the entire championship. Only one more challenge, one more maze- and one more corrupted beast to prove themselves as the best in the entire kingdom.

________________________________________________

“Are you sure Magistrate Dolios is the dark wizard?” Keralis questions, tilting his head. “I mean, what he did was pretty mean, but...to practice dark magic?”

“It’s him.” Zedaph hisses, his fingers curling in the fabric set on his lap. “He had a crystal in the antichamber, he had a horrible collection of parts used for spells.” Zed clenches his fists and jaw, struggling not to burst out. Tango and Impulse try to ease their friend’s worries. “He… I read through his log. He killed our guild. We were just the first, the opening act. He used our friends, our family, to start his path of destruction.”

“But why? Why would he need dark magic? He’s the godsdamned Magistrate of Lairyon!” False looks around, leaning forward in the tavern they’re huddled in. It’s not the inn, but one closer to the stadium. They have a labyrinth to defeat soon.

“Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Doc growls, tapping his fingers together into a triangle shape. “Regular magic just wasn’t enough. Regular power just wasn’t enough.”

“So he’s using the crystals to gather energy. Like what we saw in Gildara, with the grey landscape. And when the crystals sap energy for him to steal, it leaves those husk monsters behind.” Cub is slowly piecing together the puzzle, coming to understand everything he saw with the others in the heist.

“And he’s using the Chimaera’s championship to sap more energy. That’s why we feel so tired when we finish an event. He’s stealing our power, my dudes.” Ren shivers at the thought. His energy being drained, taken by some creepy crystal and fueling Dolios’s insatiable thirst.

“And we’re going back in soon.” TFC hums. “We have the labyrinth challenge.”

“We don’t have to go in- we got what we needed. We can leave, make a plan with this knowledge we have. Tell the king, tell the people. They’ll take care of it.” Etho leans back in a chair, tipping till it nearly dumps him backwards.

“But we’ve come so far!” Grian whines. “We could win the whole games, prove to Dolios that he never should have messed with us! Wouldn’t you love to see that smug smile of his wiped off when we win?”

Agreements rise around Grian, and even Etho can’t help but want to prove that bastard wrong. Xisuma steps in. “At least we know why we’re getting so exhausted. We’ll know to rest, calm down while we’re in the labyrinth. And...we can warn Team Crafted.”

“And then we’ll tell the king, tell the people. They’ll have to listen to us, we’ll be the champions!” Iskall grins. They’ve got this labyrinth challenge in the bag.

The group rises, walking out of the tavern and back to the stadium. All around them, Milliara is buzzing with excitement. The final challenge of the Chimaera’s championship, the end of the games, has come. A river of people flow along the raised streets, flowing like the canals beside them. Rushing towards the stadium. They pass by other guilds, who sneer and turn away. Angry they lost, especially to a team. Do any of them know that the Magistrate practices dark magic? That he’s killed entire guilds in his search for power? For what? Surely he doesn’t keep all of it.

It’s no matter to the hermits. They found the truth, and once they pass on this knowledge, it’ll be out of their hands. Entering into the bowels of the stadium, the locker room they sit in is empty. Once full of dozens more teams, now only two teams remain.

The entire guild sneers at the sound of Dolios’s voice welcoming the crowd. It’s muffled by the thick stone walls, but they can hear him tell of the harrowing journey ahead. And the grand prize that awaits for the team that defeats the labyrinth. All they need to do is pour a single bowl of water over the statue at the center of the labyrinth.

But between that and both teams were beasts, traps, and spells designed to slow them down. Perhaps even kill them, if they aren’t prepared. Across the way, Grian can see nerves crease across Quentin and Jerome’s faces. He can hear Mumbo muttering next to him. Anyone can walk into the labyrinth, but only the best teams can walk out. Grian isn’t going to let anyone die- not on his oath as a healer. Not from the hermits, and not from Team Crafted either.

Grian stands, walking across the locker room and coming face to face with Sky. The leader looks up, an easy and golden grin meeting Grian. “Hey, you here to wish us luck?”

“Not exactly.” Grian wrings his hands, looking over his shoulder, before dropping his voice. “Listen, Sky, we hermits discovered something… the reason we’re always exhausted?” Sky leans forward, his eyes looking out over the rim of his sunglasses. “The magistrate is doing something dark, and he’s taking our power for his own. If you see a crystal that’s pitch black, or a creature with soulless white eyes and ash grey bodies- run. It’s dark magic.”

Sky’s eyes widen, and behind him Grian sees Jerome and Mitch coil and look out at where Dolios’s voice can be heard. But Jason looks less convinced. “Why should we trust you? You’re trying to get us to fail, huh?”

Grian’s sighs, collapsing his head into his hands. “No, we’re trying to help you. Us illegal guilds have to stick together.”

Team Crafted’s faces all exhibit a mix of shock, surprise, and hints of defiance at Grian’s suggestion. But he’s smarter than he lets on. Jerome is the first to speak up. “Thank you for the warning, I knew that man wasn’t to be trusted. Good luck, hermits.”

With that, the stadium erupts in a roar. Team Crafted stands, and disappears into the field, disappears from view. A few moments later, the hermits are called into the spotlight. Just like the opening ceremony, TFC leads them out onto the pitch.

Or, what was the pitch. Massive hedges of writhing vines and ivy twist around the guild, engulfing them into a thicket that fills the once open arena. A dark, misty haze swirls, thickening where the hermits know the crowd is watching. Despite no eyes, no bodies visible, they can feel being observed. And yet the entire field is eerily quiet. They feel alone, no voices or light, only the sensation of sight.

In the distance, a grumbling roar pierces the mist. Captured by the damp air, it hangs and echoes around the hermits. Iskall hides behind Stress while False, Wels, and Etho draw their blades. But TFC is the one to break the silence. “No use standing here. Team Crafted already has a headstart, and I’m not letting them get any further. Cleo and Jevin, take point. If anything looks suspicious, or even if it doesn’t, Cleo can search for a soul. Jevin, can you whip up slime warriors to be our...ahem, bait?”

“You got it boss.” Jevin draws his circle, blue light dappling the misty grey and green. Blue bodies of slime morph to shape, awkward steps pushing the hermits forward. Deep into the maze. The mist engulfs the comforting stone wall of the stadium, and they were only among hedge and haze.

They push past traps set off by the slime warriors, around chimaeras and banshees soothed by Zedaph and Cleo, and over illusionary spells meant to turn them back. At each intersection, Scar marks off the way they came by plowing a giant X in the ground. When they reach a dead end and turn around, he blocks it off completely.

“I don’t remember the field being this big.” Impulse groans, feeling his body ache at the feeling he now knows to be the work of dark magic. They haven’t seen a crystal or a husk, which only makes the feeling worse. It’s coming from everywhere.

“They must’ve used expansion magic to make this place bigger.” Xisuma hums, kicking his boot at the feeling of something on his head. And again. He turns around, glaring at BDubs. “Would you quit trying to flat-tire me? It doesn’t work on boot, ya know.”

BDubs’s face causes X’s head to spin and his heart to drop. His eyes are wide, confused as to why X is yelling at him. “Tha-that wasn’t me, X. That was-”

One moment, BDubs is clear in Xisuma’s vision through his mask. The next, he’s disappeared. However, it’s not hard to find him with all the screaming. Writhing on the ground, mist and vines wrapping struggling in a fight with the plant mage. No matter how many times he casts his magic, it doesn’t shake off the ivy that crawls and drags him towards the hedges.

“Help! Help it’s got me!” BDubs screams, digging his fingers into the ground and rooting himself there He groans, the vines still pulling on him despite being an immovable object. “It’s gonna rip me in half!”

False swings her sword, the sharp steel biting into the vines and severing it from the briars snaked around BDubs. From the split branches, a red ochre spills out. Blood. The entire hedge rumbles to life, two eyes appearing in the mist. A branch breaks through the fog, colliding with a shield held aloft by Wels. The limb of the plant monster crushes the steel, tossing the shield aside and depositing the paladin onto his rear.

Glowing white eyes draw closer, and the twisted grey vines of the plant monster’s face appears in the dark mist. Vines grab for any limb the hermits aren’t watching, engulfing arms, pulling on tails, wrapping around heads. Xisuma traps a few of the thousand limbs in a blackhole, rolling away from the beast. Grian takes to the sky, dodging around the shoots that threaten to skewer him. He whips a blast of air, clearing the fog to get a better view below.

It’s not the whole labyrinth, but the beast has spread it’s vines in an intricate system among it. All which are slithering over the ivy, like snakes in search of the hermits. What he also sees in the sky, beneath the plant monster’s perch and dug into the ground beneath the pitch, was the one thing he’s learned to despise.

A dark crystal. It’s controlling the plant monster, black smog wrapping around the roots of the beast like chains. It’s practically bursting with energy, all the power and strength taken by the crystal during the entire course of the games. Even flying this high, he can feel the effects of his magic being siphoned from his body. “There’s one of those-”

Swatted from the sky like a bug, Grian crashes into the ground with a sickening thud. Scar and Mumbo race to help him up. Mumbo nearly throws up, hearing the sound of bones cracking under Grian’s feathers and skin. But nothing can keep the sky angel quiet. “The plant thing...it’s protecting the crystal, or powered by the crystal, I dunno.”

“Where is it?” TFC questions, eyes flicking across the battling guild. Stress freezes the blood and vines solid, while Cub severs the limbs with portal after portal opening and closing.

Grian grabs his head, trying to steady the spinning sensation. The moving hedges of the false maze, the limbs of the beast, don’t help to ease his confusion. He points a shaking finger at about 2 o’clock, relieved to have support from Mumbo and Iskall back to his feet.

“Should we run away from it? Obviously it’s going to try and take our energy- shouldn’t we stay as far away as possible?” Joe raises an eyebrow. His quill rushes across the pages beneath the tip, a rushed spell spouting forth. A million beetles emerge from the aged paper, tiny pincers digging into the plant monster and ripping it apart. Keralis plucks one from the sky, swallowing the beetle whole and feeling reinvigorated by the bug.

“If Dolios placed that there, he obviously intended for us to get close to it. If he knew we’d be going that way, that means the statue must be this direction.” Xisuma proposes, sending a ball of void into the chest of the many limbed vine creature.

“We should...we should destroy the crystal.” Grian hisses, grasping at his ribs and gasping for air. “So he can’t steal any more magic from here.”

“How?” Doc growls, despite plowing ahead. Towards the monster. Towards the crystal. “We could hardly put a dent in it last time!”

“We’ll figure it out. We’re pretty clever.” TFC hums, hopping over a whipping vine. He grasps a thin rod of corundum, steeling himself when another attempts to toss him into oblivion. The hermits battle their way through the shifting maze, but with each vine they cut down, more seem to spring from the bloody limbs and misty air. The attacks only grow more aggressive as they near the body of the beast, near the dark crystal controlling it. The air grows thick, hard to breathe and pressing down on the team. In the distance, they can hear the roar of a chimaera. Team Crafted. Hopefully they’re safe, as far away from this beast as possible.

The crystal comes into view. Ashen roots are planted firm around the massive crystalline structure, the gem pulsing with energy. Energy it’s stealing from the hermits and Team Crafted. Right on cue, black mist swirls around the opaque crystal, natural defenses going up. The hermits leap aside, avoiding the crushing blow from a twisted cable of vines by a narrow margin of time and air. From across the writhing greenery, TFC’s voice booms out commands. “You guys on the other side distract the monster- or better yet, try to kill it! Us over here will do our best to break the crystal.”

A cacophony of acknowledgements lets the guildmaster know they heard him, and he wastes no time scrabbling to his feet. He ignores the sound of fighting behind him, the cracks and groans of the beast or the screams of his guildmembers. He needs to focus on this crystal first and foremost.

TFC is a mineral mage. He knows gemstones- but not corrupted gems. His stomach clenches as his fingers brush against the smooth surface, and his head aches at the mere thought of how it controlled him before. He still feels horrible, snapping at his friends. It’s too dangerous to use, even in regular magic. This twisted, barbaric magical conduit needs to be destroyed.

But if there’s one thing he knows, all gems can only take so much energy before they cleave. And this crystal is practically brimming with stolen magic. “Let’s feed the beast then.”

“Have a snack, you mega crystal of doom!” Iskall shouts, bolts of radioactive energy crackling from his magic circle to the crystal. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow his attack until he can hardly stand. The gemstone remains standing, half buried in the dirt. But then False steps up, the multitude of cinquedeas summoned around her imbued with magic by Wels. A flick of the wrist, and the blades dig into the crystal. Rusted, but protruding from the gem like spines from a dragon.

“Yes! Focus the strikes on False’s swords! Use them like conduits!” TFC grins, leaping free as a rooted foot rips from the ground beside him. For a brief moment, he turns his attention back to the fighting hermits. He clasps his hands over his ears, the telltale shriek of Cleo’s banshee scream almost rupturing his eardrums. Impulse is on his back, protected by a weak bolt of lightning shot from Mumbo’s stuttering magic. But otherwise, they’re holding their own just fine.

“We’ve almost got it!” Wels cheers, noticing the cracks forming along the gem’s surface. Black smoke pours from the fractures, grasping at their feet and attempting to steal their magic. Attempting to keep control of the plant monster that protects it.

The ground beneath their feet rolls and rumbles, the dirt and hedges shivering and bucking against the hermits’ feet. Wels turns around, grinning when he sees what- or who- is the cause of the earthquake. Like a geyser of stone, a spike of rock pierces through the heart of the dark crystal. The mist around the hermits’ dissipates like morning fog chased off by the sun. Above the team, the plant monster erupts into ash, raining flakes of the husked creature with one final creak of wood and vine.

And the dark crystal shatters. It blows the hermits back, sending them tumbling among the shards of gemstone. The black aura fades with the color- it’s just a regular quartz crystal, albeit destroyed into a million tiny conchoidal pieces. The depressing weight on their bodies, that left them struggling to breathe and their magic weak, falls away like shed skin of a snake. None of them have felt this invigorated since the start of the games.

“Guys, there’s the statue!” Grian prods Mumbo in the back, both wincing as pain ricochets through both wounded hermits. A lush garden at the center of the labyrinth, gardenia and lilac flowers growing around a tall statue rising from a fresh, crystal clear spring. Carved in stone from the Lionheart mountains, the statue features each and every god in the main pantheon of Lairyon. From Echol to Limal, and Artyne- god of water.

Water, the symbol of life and magic in Lairyon. Water flows fresh, clean, and pure from the spring surrounding the stone gods. Two bowls rest untouched at the spring’s edge, carved from the very cyprus trees that inspired Milliara to be founded. Ren steps up, pausing and looking back at his teammates. Bruised, battered, broken. But urging him not to waste another second. This is it.

Ren dips the bowl in the spring. He swears he can feel energy, deep ancient magic within the cool water, chasing away the aftereffects of the crystal. In the distance, he can hear shouts of encouragement from vaguely familiar voices. Team Crafted is almost here. He doesn’t waste a second, wading across the water and pouring the bowl over the stone statue.

The mist disappears, and the statues move, as if brought to life by the mystical spring. Merkal, the god of mischief, moves his cloak to the side. Deliss brushes away the lilacs and gardenia. And the stone rendition of Artyne smiles, revealing the chalice. Crowning the hermits as victors of the Chimaera’s Championship.

19 notes · View notes

waywardodysseys · 4 years

Text

Victory - Oneshot

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x female reader

Warnings: cussing, teasing

Requested?: Yes from this ask by @bloggerchic14 - I was hoping if you can do one where reader is nominated for best director at the Oscars and she didn’t expect to win but when she does ends up in shock and Pedro ends up walking up stage with her. They then end up at the Vanity fair party and reader parties hard and teases Pedro. Thank you ☺️

Author’s note: none

~ ~ ~

You’re jittery as you sit in the limo. You breathe in and out trying to calm your nerves. Your hands running over the simple black strapless gown you are wearing.

The man sitting next to you places his hand on your arm, trying to calm you.

“We haven’t even walked the red carpet,” your dad whispers.

You swallow, “you aren’t the one nominated for an award. Talk is I could win. I won at the Golden Globes, the BAFTAs – which was still surprising, the Critics’ Choice Awards. An Oscar would complete the shelf of the other awards.”

He laughs wholeheartedly, “they aren’t on a shelf. You use them as bookends or paperweights.”

You shrug and laugh, “you know what I mean.”

You had taken a family member or a close friend as your date to each awards show. You took your mother to the Golden Globes (your mom nearly fainted when she met Tom Hanks), your best friend to the BAFTAs (this included a well-deserved girls trip), your sibling to the Critics’ Choice Awards (which they found dull, but they got to meet their celebrity crush), and your father’s now going with you to the Oscars.

Your father and mother had bickered about what awards show they would attend with you. You had picked the Golden Globes and the Oscars for them because those award shows meant the most to you.

They eventually drew straws. Your mother getting the Golden Globes, and your father getting the Oscars.

You knew they couldn’t be more prouder of you when you had told them you had been nominated for directing your first movie.

“We’re ecstatic for you honey!”

“Over the moon!”

“Proud of our baby girl!”

“We knew you could do it!”

They both had exclaimed when you called them to tell them the news of each nomination.

Now with three awards under your belt you were ready to claim the fourth but also feared you weren’t going to get it. You’re up against some big names – Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, and David Lynch. You are the newcomer, the first timer. It would be a rarity for the Academy to award you when they could easily go with an oldie tried and true person who has been directing nearly their entire life.

The door opens and your father looks at you, “ready?”

You smile weakly, “I guess. Let’s do this.”

-------

Inside the Dolby Theatre celebrities are mingling as you and your father are escorted down one of the many aisles towards your seats. The usher pauses at the fifth row up from the stage.

“Miss Y/L/N,” the usher smiles, “here are your two seats. Enjoy!”

“Thank you kindly,” your father remarks as the usher disappears.

You breathe a sigh of relief at being on the aisle. You didn’t want to parade down an entire row of people in case your name was called when they announced the winner.

Several people were familiar to you as you looked around, most of them your cast. They all greeted you with smiles and hugs.

Sarah Paulson pulls you into a tight embrace.

“I’m betting big on you tonight,” Sarah whispers as she pulls away.

“Please don’t tell me that!” You laugh.

“They’d be wrong not to give you the damn award. You’re the first female director to be nominated in a few years and your first nomination ever!” Sarah retorts.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you reply as the lights begin to dim and brighten which indicated five minutes to show time, “no Holland?”

“She’s working. I brought Pedro,” Sarah looks around the theatre, “he’s here somewhere. Hopefully he’s here before the show begins.”

Right before the orchestra begins playing you hear a light “excuse me” from beside your father, who took the aisle seat.

Your father stands then you do.

The man nods at your father, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” your father whispers as he sits.

The man then looks at you and smiles, “thank you.”

You nod your head and smile in return. You hadn’t met Pedro Pascal prior to this evening. He was someone you were wanting to work with because of seeing him in Narcos. Sarah had even praised him when you two were discussing your next movie one day.

“Pedro would be fantastic!” Sarah had exclaimed.

“I’ve seen his work in Narcos, nothing else.” You had remarked.

“He’s versatile. Done plenty of stage work, movies, T.V. shows. If you are wanting to do a modern reimagining of The Lady Eve, I think you should reach out to Pedro’s people. You won’t regret it.” She had leaned in and whispered, “he loves that movie. One of his faves.”

Now you glance at Sarah as you take a seat. She gives you a sly smile. You know she remembers your conversation as well. She wants you to meet Pedro and show you he deserves to be directed by you.

“Pedro this is Y/N,” Sarah remarks a couple of hours into the show.

Pedro smiles at you and holds out his hand, “I know who she is Sarah. Yet I haven’t met her.”

You take his hand and shake it. “Nice to meet you Pedro.”

“She wants to direct a modern reimagining of The Lady Eve,” Sarah implies with a smile towards you.

Pedro turns his dark brown eyes to you. Their opened wide and his face is a look of seriousness. “Really?”

You blush and smile, “yes.”

“How would you tell it?”

“I’m thinking of having the man play the con artist,” you reply.

“Are you working on a script? Or have someone working on one?” Pedro asks eagerly.

You laugh, “Phoebe Waller-Bridge and I are working on a script together.”

“I’d love to read it! Even audition!” Pedro smiles widely.

You glance at him, “I’ll keep you in mind.”

“Oh, come on!” Pedro laughs.

“Y/N,” your father whispers, “your category is up next.”

Right, you think as your heart begins pounding loudly inside of your chest.

Pedro squeezes your hand and whispers, “good luck.”

You smile in return then move your eyes to the stage.

Natalie Portman smiles brightly for the camera as she reads the teleprompter, “the nominees for best director are: David Lynch, Y/F/N Y/L/N, Martin Scorsese, Steven Spielberg and Quentin Tarantino.”

Your eyes are on the screen as small clips from each of the movies are played. You shrink in your seat as you watch a cameraman kneel beside your row and place the lens on you.

“You’re okay,” your father whispers as he leans over, “breathe.”

You try but you know one of the men will get it. They’ll go with the tried and true who have won before. Not the debut director, not the newcomer.

“The Oscar goes to,” a pause as the envelope is opened, “wow! The Oscar goes to Y/F/N Y/L/N!”

Natalie Portman said my name, you think as tears flood your eyes. My name? My name!

Everyone around you stands and applauds. The whole theatre stands to their feet and applauds.

Your father leans down and touches your shoulder.

“You have to go get it,” he says with a smirk.

You nod as you stand.

Sarah’s right there and embraces you tightly, “told you!”

Pedro’s pushed back against his folded seat as he lets Sarah hug you. He winks at you as you pull away from Sarah and turn towards the aisle.

The thundering applause fills your ears as you begin to take a step up the stairs towards Natalie and the Oscar. You’re focused on making sure you don’t trip yet you do.

You laugh as you sit up and smile. Pedro’s right there with a hand to help you up.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers in return.

He tries to let your hand go but you’re gripping it tightly. Your nerves are getting the best of you.

Pedro smiles as he hooks your hand in the crook of his arm. He guides you up the remaining stairs, escorting you towards Natalie and the microphone. The Oscar statue you are about to claim as yours.

Once Natalie embraces you and hands you the award, Pedro takes a step back and lets you have the spotlight. The applause dies down as people take their seats and you wring your hands around the Oscar you now have in your possession.

You wipe at your tears, “Um, there’s so many to thank. I apologize beforehand if I forget anyone,” you pause, “I’d like to thank the Academy. Paramount Studios for taking a chance on me and this movie I love. Plan B productions for a chance as well. The amazing crew I was placed with, thank you. My wonderful cast – Hugh Laurie, Katie Holmes, Emily Blunt, Sterling K. Brown, and Sarah Paulson. Thank you. As well as to the other amazing cast members I appreciate you all. To my close friends and my dear family I can never thank you enough for loving me for me, and supporting me for when I wanted to come out here and start directing. From T.V. shows to the big screen, directing will always be my passion. To all the girls out there wanting to direct, take a chance and follow your dreams, follow your heart. I will be your biggest supporter.” You smile widely and raise the Oscar in the air, “thank you again!”

The entire theatre erupts in applause as you walk off the stage with Natalie and Pedro.

You’re grinning from ear to ear as Natalie releases you from the hug she gave you once you were in line to make your way to the media room.

“Congrats again!” She smiles.

“Thanks,” you smile in return.

Your eyes watch her walk away then land on Pedro who was stopped by Kit Harrington. You had hoped you’d be able to talk to him more. You wanted to talk to him more. You wanted to thank him properly for being there to help you up the stairs.

“Miss Y/L/N?” Someone with a headset on their head draws your face back around.

You hum and raise a brow.

“The press is ready.”

You smile, “thanks.”

The person opens the curtain and the cameras start flashing as you walk in. You take one glance back at Pedro hoping he’s going to the same after party as you are.

-------

The Vanity Fair after party is in full swing after the limo driver took your father home. He didn’t want to spend all night out on the town, which you preferred because you were going to party hard for as long as you could before returning in the wee hours of the night. And there was someone you needed to cross paths with again – Pedro.

Inside you are swarmed by actors and actresses congratulating you, wanting to know what you’re doing next, wondering if they could give you a call about auditioning for anything you do in the future. They give you glasses of champagne. Toasting you over abundantly, making you sip on the frothy and bubbly liquid. It’s all overwhelming until you feel a hand grasp yours and pull you away.

“Give her a chance to breathe!” Sarah nearly shouts as she drags you away from the horde of people.

You giggle as Sarah pulls you away and into a corner. She swipes two glasses of champagne off a tray from a passing by waiter.

Sarah clinks her glass to yours, “congrats!”

“Thanks,” you smile not bothering to take a sip. “I’ve had too much of this.”

“Understandable,” Sarah pauses as she gulps down her glass then takes yours, “so, Academy Award winner director Y/F/N Y/L/N directing a remake of The Lady Eve starring Pedro Pascal…”

You giggle, “where is he by the way?”

“Oh, your rescuer?” Sarah giggles loudly. She’s had a little too much alcohol already. “He’s here somewhere. He saw you trip, and zoom did he go to rescue you. When he got back to the seat I whispered, ‘her dad’s right there Pedro.’”

“What was his reaction?”

“’Well at least I scored brownie points with him.’” Sarah laughs.

You giggle as the alcohol courses through your veins. You place a hand on your stomach when it growls. You realize it’s empty, and you’re starving.

“Is there food here?” You ask absentmindedly.

“Yeah but it’s mostly finger foods,” Sarah smiles, “here he is!”

Pedro smiles as he hands Sarah a napkin, “food.”

“Share with the lady,” Sarah points at you as she swallows a couple of cheese cubes.

Pedro smiles at you and holds out another napkin. It’s filled with cheese cubes, crackers, even a chocolate covered strawberry.

“Hey,” Pedro pouts, “the strawberry was mine!”

You smile as you bite a small piece, “have the rest.”

“You may the whole thing. It’s not like I fought a swarm of people to get just one!”

You finish the decadent dessert. Not sure if it’s the alcohol or not, you lean over and brush your lips across his.

Pedro inwardly moans as he tastes the chocolate strawberry on your lips. He swipes his tongue across your lips. He tastes the champagne once you let him in.

You pull back breathlessly and look into Pedro’s deep brown eyes. “I, uh, I…”

Pedro smiles, reaches out, and runs a finger down your cheek, “it’s okay.”

Sarah is able to tell she’s no longer needed. “I’m gonna leave you two to it. Goodnight.”

“Night,” you and Pedro say in unison. His eyes and your eyes are one another.

“Thank you for coming to my rescue,” you say after seconds of silence.

Pedro grins lopsidedly, “you’re welcome. I do hope at least it scored me some brownie points.”

“Why?”

“I want to be a part of The Lady Eve.”

“Script’s not done. And I’m currently working with Netflix on a series.”

“I’d like to be forefront and center when you go to producers. Tell them Pedro Pascal needs to be in this movie, will be in this movie,” he remarks with a laugh.

“Are you desperate for a role where one sees your face?” You ask.

Pedro raises an eyebrow, “I was informed you’ve only seen Narcos from my long resume.”

“I see you and Sarah have talked.”

Pedro shrugs, “I inquired about you on the way here. She’s the one who worked with you. She even raved about you while you were filming. Said you were extremely kind and knew what you were doing, what you wanted and needed from the cast and crew.”

“Glad to know at least one person likes me,” you jokingly laugh.

“Everyone likes you Y/N,” Pedro remarks. “You’re kind, sweet. A great kisser.”

You inwardly laugh then run your hand up Pedro’s arm. “You’re too kind Pedro, too sweet.”

Pedro holds in his moan as your hand runs up his arm then over his chest and down his stomach.

You lean forward and brush your mouth against his. You feel his arms wrap around you and pull you close, deepening the kiss. You moan as his hands travel up and down your back, occasionally touching your bare skin.

Heat rises in your body as you move your hands across his shoulders down his chest. You finally loop them around his neck and run your fingers through his hair.

Pedro pulls faintly away. He looks into your Y/E/C eyes. He leans down and nuzzles your neck. Your skin is delicate and warm.

“Pedro,” you moan lowly as his mustache tickles your skin.

You snake a hand down his chest. You run it teasingly over his crotch and find him hard.

Fuck, your mind screams as pleasure intensifies inside of you.

Pedro hisses as he pulls back, “you’re a tease too. A wicked tease.”

“You are too Pedro,” you remark as you press your body against his.

You want Pedro, need Pedro. Your body is aching to have his mouth and hands all over it.

You would never have the courage to be this blunt, but with the alcohol pumping through your veins you do. You look at Pedro in seriousness, “please get me out of here Pedro. I need you in more ways than one. If you know—”

Pedro kisses you soundly and grabs your hand as he pulls you towards the exit, “I know what you mean Y/N. I want to get us both out of here so we’re able to enjoy each other fully especially with our clothes off.”

You knew this was going to be a night you’d never forget – you won your Oscar, and you had the ultimate lap of victory when you and Pedro finally made it into his bed - sans clothes.

Tags: @pascalisthepunkest, @cosmo-bear, @kaelyn-lobrutto24, @knight-of-heart44, @caitlincat-95, @random066, @readsalot73, @arrowswithwifi, @halefirewarrior, @x-wingwarriorbbpoe8, @stardust-and-starlight, @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead, @longitud-de-onda, @jokersdoll, @earl-01, @ezraslittlebirdie, @bonkybaaarnes

#victory oneshot #request #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #oneshot #sarah paulson #oscars

156 notes · View notes

twokinkybeans · 4 years

Text

Stark On Ice 2: Heartbeat (Starker Figure Skating AU)

Read On AO3 here

Read Chapter 1 here

---

Chapter 2: Heartbeat

Peter hums happily when he sinks into the soft, leather couch outside of the rink. Quentin Beck, the man that’s been hosting Celebrity Spin-Off for nearly a decade now, is already waiting for them. He sends them both a charming smirk and waves the hand in which he’s holding the mic to beckon them closer. Tony carefully skates towards the couch and lowers himself on it. It’s funny how skating through the entire choreo feels solid, yet maneuvering to sit down feels unsteady and scary. He’s panting. His muscles are tired and slightly sore. It doesn’t matter to Tony. He’s so happy he pulled this off. "Woa-woa-woah!" Beck exclaims and shakes his head, grinning. "Tony Stark, now that was a delightful surprise! Give it up for our favorite CEO, everyone!" The public cheers and whistles and applauds, and as much as Tony is used to being in the center of attention, this sure hits differently. People are cheering for something he’s done all by himself. No inheriting something from his crazy rich, crazy stoic father. No. Tony laughs and blows a little kiss towards the camera, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’.

Beck shifts in his seat, crossing his right ankle over his left thigh. He smiles, waiting for the applause to die down. "Tell us, Tony. How are you feeling?" Tony leans in toward the mic. "Fucking amazing- Peter and I have been training for so long. It's so rewarding to finally show off what he taught me." Peter glances and bites down his lip nervously. "What about you, Peter? Rumor has it that you're a big fan of Tony Stark, did he meet your expectations in real life?" Tony whips his head around in surprise.

What? Peter never told him that piece of information before. He makes a mental note to ask him about it at a later time. Peter nods timidly. "Tony's a great dude. He trains harder than some of my fellow professional skaters, and well, as eh, as you could see, he's really picked up some skills here." "Well, let's dive right into this." Beck presses into his earpiece to show the audience he's getting information from backstage. Then, he turns his head to stare at the large projector screen behind them. "Twitter seems to have been blown away by your performance- as have I. You two killed it out there!" Beck licks his lips as he waits for the screen to pull up the Twitter feed. Tony squints and looks up at it too, reading along while Beck speaks.

Stark has the hots for Peter, pass it on! #StarkOnIce

That was both hot and adorable. These lovestruck dorks are everything.

We stan #Starker, let's get this trending folks!

Tony can’t quite believe it. He knew this would happen no matter how good or bad their performance. This tops everything though.

"So Tony, now tell us everything. How long have you two been dating?" Beck jests and barks out a laugh. Tony sniffs, tilting his head. He's not sure if he likes the direction of this conversation but he knows he has to play along. This is still entertainment after all. "I have yet to ask him on a first date, Quentin," he says jokingly and leans in as if to be secretive. "Should I opt for roses or gardenias?" The audience laughs out loud, and Tony grins- glad he made the right call. He nudges Peter next to him, trying to ease the kid's apparent nerves. He gets it. Peter is used to the spotlights while performing. Never outside of the rink. "I wish I knew, Stark, I wish I knew," Beck retorts. "On a more serious note-" The projector screen turns dark. "-that was quite a routine for a first-time figure skater. What's your secret?"

Tony just stares at Peter for a second. It's not even on purpose, and he doesn't realize he's doing it until the crowd breaks into loud cheering once more. He presses his lips together. He knew that asking for a male partner would… Provoke a reaction. This is a bit more than he expected. Before either of them have a chance to respond, Beck continues. “Alright, time to call for our next contestants, our favorite Olympics archery champion Clint Barton and his lovely partner Michelle! Give it up for Tony Stark and Peter once more!"

Tony sucks his lower lip into his mouth as he slides into a basic forward twizzle. Steve is standing at the side of the rink and Tony can feel the man staring at him. God. He shouldn’t overthink this. Focus. He turns towards Peter as together, they shift into backward strokes.

I can feel your heartbeat I can feel your heartbeat

Tony mumbles along to the lyrics as they speed up and squat down. Their fingers intertwined- gripping each other strongly. Tony almost wants to blurt out a lousy joke about being able to feel everything but Peter’s heartbeat. He decides against it in the end. He’d probably laugh and trip again. His already sore hip wouldn’t be too happy about it. "Alright Tony, keep focusing on pressing your heels down, we don't want your toe picks to dig into the ice. Pete- go a little slower so he gets a good feel for it," Steve shouts from outside the rink. Tony sniffs and presses his lips together, trying to get it right. There's not much time left where the music continues.

Maybe it's the way you move, You got me dreaming like a fool. That I could steal your heart away, I could steal your heart away.

Mohawk. Three-turn. Crossovers and- Tony gasps as he nearly loses his balance and grasps on Peter's puffer vest. Peter rushes to steady him. He brings them both to a halt and smiles encouragingly at Tony. "That was good, Tony. I-" "I nearly fell. Again ." "You’re tired, Tony. You really nailed that mohawk though!”

In the background, the song is still playing, but Peter shakes his head slightly when Tony eyes the ice. "Enough for today." He turns around to Steve. "We're done for today, Steve." Their coach nods. "You've made great progress onto the choreo. It's the details, really. And we still have two days until the second live show." Steve says as they skate toward him to get out of the rink. "You should hop in the sauna. Helps the muscles relax." "I've never had someone prescribe me a sauna before." "All the more reason to listen. Right?" With a gentle pat on Tony’s shoulder, Steve stalks off.

Tony grunts when the heat envelopes his naked body. The scent of sandalwood filling his nostrils. He feels his taut muscles loosen up immediately. God. Does that feel good. He's pretty sure his many saunas at home don't feel this good. He puts his towel down onto the wooden benches and lays down on it, closing his eyes. Awkwardly, Peter follows behind him. "I envy you, Peter," Tony mumbles and listens how the boy shuffles around and climbs onto the benches. "W-why?" "You get to do this. Every single day. Your career path…" Tony's voice trails of, not liking how his chest seems to restrict all of a sudden. "It seems so free." "You know it's not, right? It's hard work, it's… It's a big commitment. Everyone is counting on you. You have to be at your pique. Tiptop shape. Every single day. I can't drink. Or smoke. Well, I could cause I'm not going for the Olympics- but it'd be a bad influence on my overall performance. Even when you feel sick, you have to appear and act as if you've never been happier. Don't get me wrong, I fucking love my job. But it's not that glamourous." "Mmmh, sounds like the life of a CEO." Tony sighs. "Minus the drinking." Peter chuckles. "Not so different then." "Nope."

"I eh, I've meant to ask you something," Peter whispers after a few seconds of silence. Tony opens his eyes and props himself up onto his elbows. Looking at Peter and trying not to look at him. Peter… Is rather good-looking. His athletic body ripped and smooth and- Nope. Nope, not going there. "Ask away, kid." "Why… Why did you ask to dance with a dude?" Tony presses his lips together and sucks at his teeth, huffing out some air. "Honestly?" "Yeah." "I didn't want to dance at all. Figured a gay remark would brush them off." There. That's it. It's silent. Then, Peter breaks out into a laughing fit. His cute little giggles making Tony's heart flutter in his chest in a way he didn't quite see coming, and it's terrifying. "Oh God, Mr. Stark, that is genius ." "Mmmh, it didn't quite work, and now here I am." Tony lays back down again, staring at the ceiling. "It's not as bad as I expected. I think I really like figure skating." "I'm glad. And for what it's worth, I'm very grateful for finally having an opportunity to pair with a male partner. MJ is the sweetest and I would never trade her for anyone else… But she's not a man."

It's a confession. Peter Parker is gay. Tony sighs and decides to sit up. Crossing his legs and folding his hands in his lap. He stares at the kid laying a few feet away. "I-I hope you don't mind," Peter whispers, chuckling anxiously. Tony is quick to shake his head. "No, kid. I don't mind at all. I'm… I'm not into women either." "Oh? Really? But... W-what about your ex-wife?" "There's a simple reason that she is exactly that, Pete. I loved her as a friend. A sister, maybe. When I first had a crush on a man, I knew that what I felt for her had deceived me all this time." Peter just nods at him, processing the information. They don't speak after that and simply enjoy the warmth of the sauna, making them sweat and relax. It's clear they've grown a little closer. Bonded. Tony knows that this kid is gonna be something different. The older man has a hard time getting close to people. Something about Peter feels so… Comforting and open. Like home.

Maybe it's the way you move, You got me dreaming like a fool. That I could steal your heart away, I could steal your heart away.

Tony takes a deep breath in and out. The loud music blaring- nearly vibrating through him. The flashing of the spotlights creating strange shadows on the ice. This is the part where he falls more often than not. They've practiced it over and over again, except for yesterday. Peter had sternly told him off.

"You better give your body some rest today, you'll see it makes a difference at the actual show tomorrow."

Mohawk. Three-turn. Crossovers… Tony's lips are pressed together, feeling how his body stiffens in anticipation for yet another fall. The fear of falling in front of the entire United States nearly paralyzing him. But Peter squeezes his hand, and Tony looks up, staring into his eyes. Peter mouths along to the lyrics, and it tugs at Tony's heart- oh God. Had Peter always looked this captivating? His curls bouncing on the air as they speed forward.

No matter what it is you think I'm not the kind of girl to blink And give my heart away Stop tryin' steal my heart away

Before Tony realizes it's over, they've passed the crossovers and a rush of adrenaline courses through his veins. His lips break into a wide smile. He lets go of Peter's hand, and together they speed up, turn around. Tony bends his right knee and extends his left leg backward. He presses his toe pick into the ice and jumps up, arms close to his chest, and huffs a surprised breath when he feels how smooth it goes. When gravity pulls his body down and lands on the ice, he bends his right leg again to counter the landing and smiles, gliding backward rather effortlessly. The audience goes absolutely wild at his performed toe loop.

When the music slows down a little, so does Tony. Both his skates flat on the ice. No strokes, nothing. The speed dies down, and slowly, Peter and he slide closer together. Reaching out with one hand, straining to touch Peter's. Their fingers touch- curl into one another and they twirl around one another.

I don't know where we're going I don't know who we are

They're staring at the other. Peter's eyes are big and wide and so incredibly gorgeous. Tony's breathing picks up. Not from the exercise, no. Peter reaches forward, touching Tony's chest. As choreographed, Tony grabs Peter's hand and presses it even closer into his body.

I can feel your heartbeat He said to me I can feel your heartbeat He said to me I can feel your heartbeat Running through me

Tony forces himself to let go of Peter then and they both turn around. Their backs together for a split second before they both break out into a series of forward strokes again- separating. When Tony reaches the top end of the rink, another mohawk and he licks his lips when he sees Peter doing the same thing at the other end of the rink.

Stop stealing my heart away Give it to me boy

It's at this moment that Tony realizes that he's actually falling for the kid. Hard. So hard and oh God he really, really shouldn't. The show must go on, though. Twizzle. Upright spin. Another twizzle. Grabbing Peter's hands to set off for a camel spin, just as in their first choreo. Peter's strong but smaller body is so close. So graceful. Tony feels dizzy in such a good way that he wonders how on earth he didn't see these feelings coming before they decided to crash down on him. Slowly, Peter comes back upright and they slow down. Tony's arms wrap around Peter from behind. One hand on his waist, the other on Peter's chest. Their necks are crooked so they can look at each other. Panting heavily. Caught in the other’s gaze. Mere inches away. He can feel Peter’s heartbeat thrumming fast underneath his fingertips.

Your heartbeat.

---

Next Chapter: 3: 7 A.M.

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 4 years

Note

thank you so much for "damage control for a walking corpse." i've been the "julia" in the quentin/julia dynamic in the story a few times, and haven't always supported friends the way i should have or that they needed, so this story has been really helpful in understanding better what someone going through those feelings and hardships might be feeling. hopefully next time a friend goes through it, i'll remember. i know you probably didn't write it as a lesson, but still -- thank you for it. (1/2)

(2/2) (not to say julia is or isn't doing things wrong or right... more like, that it seems she really doesn't understand what quentin's going through, and that sometimes it's just hard and there's not always a clear-cut "here's how to help your friend" -- especially because your friend might not know either. and i know quentin is going through some very supernatural experiences, but the core idea can carry over, i think.)

this is a very sweet message, anon! i think i’ve said this before on here, but part of my investment in quentin, julia, and especially in quentin + julia comes from the fact that i have been both the quentin AND the julia in my life (sometimes in the same relationship!), and i see a lot of myself in both of them and the ways they relate to each other on the show. a lot of fandom comes down harder on julia than i do for the ways they feel she does or doesn’t support quentin, but like, to me it has always been very clear that she would do anything in her power to help quentin, and quentin himself has no real idea what "supporting him” means, nor is he in a position, i think, where he could articulate that if he managed to figure out — and in fact he like, fairly consistently rejects her attempts to be supportive! (lying about going to midtown mental health; “i don’t want to feel better” when shadeless julia vulcan-talks about the fact that he’s feeling bad; rejecting her offer to come help him deal with his mom and his dad’s stuff; not really responding when she tells him that she’s choosing goddess so they still have a chance, which like, idk if you can call it officially in the text but the way stella plays that scene i have always read it as julia making a choice she was not really planning on making for quentin).

and i actually think that — speaking strictly of my realistic-ish take on canon quentin, and not what might work or make sense in any given fic — honestly if he could figure it out julia would not be first on the list of people he’d ask for it, because there’s so much history there of, she knew him (in his perception) before he was broken, she was there to watch him break the first and second and third times, all while being her own very competent and high-achieving self, and i feel like there’s so much of his own shame tied in his feelings about her, even before we get into his longtime hopeless crush! i think people tend to view the way quentin opens up to eliot as indicative of a certain rightness that eliot has for quentin, a way he fits or gets him that no one else has, but i don’t think it takes anything away from Quentin And Eliot, Inventors Of Romance And True Love, to say that like, sometimes the mere fact of newness can be an opening to talk about the shit you wish you didn’t have in yourself to talk about.

when i think about quentin and julia, i think about shit like, i spent several years talking about mental health & insecurities & anxiety & trauma shit to tumblr at large & friends i had met there before i was able to talk about that shit in a meaningful way with my oldest and closest friend, and some of that is that kind of instant-connection of Someone Who Gets This that a lot of us have discovered at some point on the internet (which itself is like... less about my friend getting or not getting it, and more about my own willingness/ability to try to explain it to her, ever), but a lot, like a lot of it, was that i was embarrassed. or, i think about the fact that the second time i dropped out of college, i could have fucking spent a spring hopping up and down the east coast dropping in on my friends' dorm parties (friends from high school; i don’t have friends from college which was both symptom and cause lol), and instead i spent six months hiding under the covers, watching LOST and blogging about, like, feminism and pop music (it was 2010 ok), because — and this did NOT occur to me until years later but seems excruciatingly obvious in retrospect — even though not one of them had ever said anything less than supportive and kind and loving to me about my shit, even though i knew all of them felt like i had made the right call to take care of myself, i couldn’t fucking handle the shame of hanging out with my socially successful friends who were about to graduate when i felt like this friendless degreeless hopeless loser. so it would be nice, maybe, to believe that there was something any of these people could have done right or could have done better to make me see otherwise, but like, the contours of my defense mechanisms really did not allow for that at the time. and, i mean, another reason i am obsessed with quentin & julia is that this is all like the #1 shit i am still unlearning in my life all the time lol, BUT, like, the fact that i was very crazy and fucked up and there was nothing they could do about it also doesn’t mean it didn’t matter that they loved me, you know? it mattered a ton — it just took me a long time to really be able to feel that. (this is, fwiw, a... huge chunk of what wild geese is about, obviously, lol.)

well this got extremely long because my quentin and julia feelings, they are legitimately fucking bottomless, lol. tl;dr: yeah, sometimes it just is hard, and sometimes no one knows what to do, and sometimes there’s really nothing because, ultimately, sad but true lesson of adulthood, people are gonna live their own lives and learn their own shit in their own time, and it can suck to be on both sides of that equation, but i really do think that loving someone always counts.

#the magicians #askbox

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hayley566 · 3 years

Photo

I've been watching Emirichu's videos on fictional crushes and got inspired to draw some of my own.

Hinata Hyuga from Naruto: It's funny looking back on when I was younger and in denial about my bisexuality. Especially when it comes to Hinata. I would get so angry if anyone disrespected her, drew countless fanart of her(some of which were in sexy outfits) and desperately wanted to buy merch of her. I had a crush on her and was like "No, I just think she's really cute...also, talk bad about her and I will block you!" I'm not proud of my early teens and how mad I got over the naruto shipping wars but it's funny to look back and realize I had a waifu and denied it. Quentin Beck from MCU: This is more of a hate/lust thing. Jake Gyllenhaal plays him so well and makes him so charismatic and awful but damn is that not kinda hot. Again, I hate the shit Mysterio does to Peter but I cannot deny how hot he is while doing it. L from Death Note: Death Note was my first adult anime and as much as I hate/lust Light, L stole my heart with how cute he was. He made me actually start to like messy looking characters and I love how he's a genius despite his appearance and behavior. As someone on the autism spectrum, I related a lot to people thinking there was something off about my "quirks"(those being walking on my tip toes which I still do today and how I had trouble with social quos) and it helped my middle school self a lot to see other characters like that. Sasuke Uchiha from Naruto: While Hinata was always my #1, I didn't hate Sasuke and honestly just wanted the poor guy to get some actual therapy. He watched his brother murder their entire family at the age of eight and it made me so angry when fans were like "He's older now, so he should get over it!" like trauma is something you can just grow out of without therapy and medicine. It might be why I ship him with Sakura so much. She saw him at his very worst but still loved him and I feel like that's something a lot of us with mental illness want. Miguel O'Hara aka Spider-Man 2099: I first discovered him while watching cutscenes from "Spider-man: Shattered Dimensions" but ultimately fell in love with him when I played "Edge of Time". Soon after reading his comics, I became a life long fan. Starfire from Teen Titans: I always loved Starfire from he appearance to her cute personality and her awesome powers. I also shipped her and robin so friggen hard. Alfred F. Jones aka America from Hetalia: This was one of the first few positive portrayals of my country/nationality that I've seen in foreign media. I love how he still has flaws but wasn't portrayed as some evil warmonger(except in the early english dub but we ignore that). I felt ashamed about being American because of what my country's government has done to so many other nations over the years but Alfred reminds me that there are good things about us too. My favorite aspect is that he has a willingness to learn about other cultures and has a puppy-like excitement about it. There's also his overall personality, how he's a fully fleshed out character in recent years.

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aaronhart93 · 3 years

Text

text || aarotin

Discord text thread featuring: Aaron & @quentindelancret

When: March 7, 2020 and March 8, 2020

Mentions: @cilliankelly @judetaylorhq @romanbeckett @jamisonhq

Description: Quentin and Aaron fight, they make up, then they argue again after Quentin tells him that he sexted someone else

Trigger Warnings: mentions of physical fighting and cheating, drug use

Quentin.

I’m sorry if I was hateful

Aaron.

please come back

or just...don’t leave

Quentin.

I already left

I’m just tired Aaron. It’s a constant battle for you

Aaron.

I mean. Don’t leave me. Us.

Quentin.

I don’t wanna leave you

I just don’t know how much more I can take

Aaron.

I will fix it. Cut them all off.

Quentin.

you know I don’t really want you to do that. I just wish they would stop

move the fuck on already

Aaron.

we can’t control other people baby. And we can let what people say affect us like this

Quentin.

it’s not that easy

Aaron.

no it’s not

you’re right

it’s hard but it’s easier if we get through it together

Quentin.

yeah

except it’s not together, it’s just me

I didn’t even do anything

I’m just so tired of feeling worthless

Aaron.

would I be fighting this hard for someone who is worthless?

Quentin.

I don’t know

I’m pretty worthless

Aaron.

that’s so far from true baby

you make my world go around

Quentin.

maybe we just need a break

Aaron.

we don’t

Quentin.

we don’t? You seem to defend Roman just fine

maybe we’re burnt out

Aaron.

we’re not

Quentin.

okay well. I’m gonna go see my brother and get fucked up. I’ll see you later

Aaron.

I love you, Quentin.

Quentin.

yeah?

Aaron.

so much

and if you wanna fight these guys, I have your back

Quentin.

I’m totally fighting them

Aaron.

then so am I

Quentin.

is Roman okay?

Aaron.

none of us are okay right now

Quentin

well great

Aaron.

we should stop fighting with them

it’s getting no where

Quentin.

apparently lmao

Aaron.

hey

I love you

what are you doing right now

Quentin

I’m just sitting in my car off my face lol. I love you too

Aaron.

LOL

okay just don’t drive

and if you decide to fight them I’m your first call yeah?

Quentin.

of course

Aaron.

okay baby

Quentin.

anyway

that was exciting lol

Aaron.

I mean. I could have lived without it but

Quentin.

yeah? I’m still ready to fight

even though I can hardly move

Aaron.

stoned? Lolll

Quentin.

molly

it’s been a while and I am gone

Aaron.

explains why you’re so horny then

Quentin.

oops

Aaron.

I can take care of that for you

Quentin.

oh yeah? Are you trying to weasel me back into your penthouse monsieur Hart?

Aaron.

so what if I am?

Quentin.

Jesus, you’re too hot you know that?

Aaron.

come over and I’ll show you just how hot I can get

Quentin.

oh yeah? Is that a promise? I thought I shouldn’t come over if I’m fucked up

Aaron.

I’d rather you here actually. I shouldn’t have said that

Quentin.

Roman is gonna come get me and bring me

okay?

Aaron.

yes. Okay

I love you

Quentin.

I love you too. Even when you piss me off I always love you

Aaron.

yeah I always love you when you piss me off too.

Quentin.

hey, you pissed me off first lol

seriously though. I wanna marry you

Aaron.

I wanna marry you too

Quentin.

yeah?

Aaron.

yes

Quentin.

you better mean that because I’m gonna destroy you when I get there

Aaron.

I can’t wait for you to absolutely destroy me

Quentin.

I’m serious Aaron. I might be rolling my ass off but I want you. All of you, raw.

Aaron.

I’ll fill you up baby

the next morning...

Aaron.

hey so. Should we talk

Quentin.

about what baby?

Aaron.

last night

Quentin.

okay sure we can talk

Aaron.

okay

what can I do

to make this better

Quentin.

nothing, everything is fine. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I didn’t mean to make a mess

Aaron.

but has their been something that has been bothering you for a while? Like Cody

Quentin.

it doesn’t matter. He’s your ex, and your friend. It’s fine really it’s not your fault

Aaron.

okay. I understand. But I can talk to him and tell him to lay off if you want

Quentin.

Aaron I’m sorry about last night

Aaron.

okay

unsent I’m just so worried it’s going to happen again

it’s okay baby

Quentin.

I talked to Jamison

he texted me

for some reason be thought I was gonna meet him last night? Idk. I never should have done molly again. It’s been since... a while

I’m sorry

Aaron.

you were gonna meet him...? What do you mean

Quentin.

I don’t know that’s what he told me

but I did fucked up with someone else

I’m so sorry

Aaron.

wait what

Quentin.

I messed around with someone else. Sorta

Aaron.

when

Quentin.

last night. After you and Roman went to sleep

Aaron.

you slept in bed with us and left to go hook up with someone else

then what’s it like Quentin

Quentin.

I was just texting them. I left because I was sick and I didn’t want you guys or Des to see me like that

Aaron.

and then you went a fucked them

*and

Quentin.

no I didn’t fuck them

Aaron.

you’re going to need to be more specific, Quentin.

Quentin.

we just messed around over text that’s all

it wasn’t serious

Aaron.

who

Quentin.

Troye

i didn’t mean to

Aaron.

Troye Sivan

Quentin.

yeah. Please don’t hate me

he’s been texting me about flirting and last night I was just so fucked up. I didn’t mean to

Aaron, please. I’m sorry

Aaron... I love YOU

Aaron.

your two beautiful boyfriends were sleeping next to you

Quentin.

I know. I feel so stupid and I didn’t mean to do it Aaron I swear. It’s just, I was so fucked up and it’s not an excuse but he just kept talking dirty to me. I don’t want him I want you and I want Roman

Aaron.

how am I supposed to believe you

you are so fucked in the head, Quentin.

tell Roman.

in the group. Now.

Quentin.

I texted him that we needed to talk but he didn’t reply

Aaron.

he’s going to be crushed

and YOU crushed him

Quentin.

I know, I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry

Please don’t hate me. I’ll do anything to fix this

Aaron.

I don’t know what to say to you, Q

Quentin.

please don’t leave me

Aaron

I don’t know Q

Quentin.

it wasn’t like you think I swear

Aaron.

so what was it

Quentin.

he was sexting me. I was just fucked up and going along with it but it’s like.. it’s Troye. I didn’t think it was serious

I didn’t like.. I didn’t get off to it. Honestly I mostly laughed but I swear there isn’t anything funny about it

Aaron.

why though

Quentin.

idk, he just started texting me

Aaron.

I have his number too ya know

Quentin.

he knows I’m with you. I don’t know Aaron. I wish I could take it back

what are you going to do?

Aaron.

I don’t know

Quentin.

Aaron I don’t want him i swear

I love you

Please tell me how I can fix this. I didn’t mean it

Aaron.

read

Quentin.

Aaron please. I need you

I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.

Aaron, last night I told you I wanted to marry you. I meant that with my whole heart. Troye is a stupid crush and i never would have done that sober. I’m not a cheater and I don’t want that to ever happen again. I’m sorry, I’ll get help. Okay?

Aaron.

you’ll get help?

Quentin.

yeah, I will. I don’t want to lose you and I’ll do anything to make this right

Aaron.

you’ll go to counseling and take medicine?

Quentin.

I’ll do it

Aaron.

I have to think

Quentin.

you have to know I don’t really want him. It was a stupid crush and I was just being so fucking stupid. I just wish I could take it back. I can’t live without you

Aaron.

let me think

Quentin.

okay.

#discord #quentin #text #text: quentin

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