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#i finally get to do one thing with literally the only people who even bother to talk to me anymore
cocogum · 1 day
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Yugo should feel weirded out by Echo.
I am so confused about Echo’s whole deal with Oropo mainly because of what Oropo is supposed to be.
Isn’t she aware that he looks like Yugo??? So many people around her say that he does, even Yugo said the same thing to Adamaï back when they were both stuck in the Inglorium.
Like if people around Echo keep saying that he looks like a copy-paste, then she should be able to know the similarities too. There’s no way she couldn’t have been aware cuz she’s been with Oropo the longest and was practically his diary for all these millenniums.
And here’s why it bothers me so much.
SHE SHOULD KNOW.
The fact that she and him have been in a relationship too is extremely odd cuz she KNOWS she’s essentially screwing with one of Yugo’s alter egos….
It’s obvious that Oropo and her have done things….cuz like…the bed scene in Season 3 implied it.
So…yeah.
I wish Echo could’ve talked to Yugo at least once in Season 3 but the two never interacted. The only two instances where they’ve been somewhat in the same scene were when Eva had given birth to Pin and when they both saw Oropo and Amalia kissing. So even if they were in the same place at the same time, these two never even spoke to each other let alone glanced at one another.
Like I really want Yugo to be weirded out by this lol. To know that a random eniripsa demigoddess has been screwing with one of his copies.
Oropo even says these in S4 EP1: “Here you are, whole again.” And “We are a part of you.”
So when I say Echo has been plowing a part of Yugo this whole time, I’m not exaggerating. She was literally doing that.
Also here’s another thing, when Yugo had finally accepted the eliotropes to be parts of himself, that meant he was able to see what their lives had been like, to know who they were, and what they’d gone through. So wouldn’t that technically mean that he also saw memories of Oropo with Echo? We did see how Yugo got a glimpse of Oropo and Echo’s kiss right before the bomb exploded so that would imply Yugo saw everything.
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How does he feel? Isn’t he weirded out???
I get that Season 4 didn’t have everything explained because of the damn budget but even if they did have it, I wouldn’t be surprised if Ankama wouldn’t dig deeper into this.
It’s just completely random to think about but it still exists. It’s still something that Yugo can think about, reflect on, and try to process what he just understood.
Toross is one thing to have been harassed by but being indirectly harassed by a demigoddess eniripsa is another thing entirely.
Bro technically got jumped by two divinities help-
Like no shade on Echo but girl what are you doing.
Like just picture this and pretend the same thing happened to you:
You’re 21 years old but you came to find out that not only did you accidentally create a whole race entirely composed of fragments of YOUR SPIRIT, but one of those fragments ended up getting into all sorts of shenanigans with some demigoddess who you had never met in your life.
And I know you’re gonna say: “But Oropo is his own person, he has thoughts and feelings too. That’s why he was able to love someone who wasn’t in his creator’s life, making him carve his own path to his destiny! 😫😫”
Gurl.
That’s putting feelings over logic.
Oropo is a PART of YUGO. Oropo doesn’t even disagree with that either. He doesn’t correct Yugo when he tells him that they’re supposed to be the same person.
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Like I said before, he literally tells Yugo that all the eliotropes are parts of him, literal alter egos.
Without Yugo, he can’t live.
Without Yugo, he can’t think.
Without Yugo, he can’t be.
He literally cannot exist on his own because he is a part of Yugo. That’s why the majority of eliotropes can’t live for very long because their main core, Yugo, isn’t with them. That’s why Oropo tried to morph into Yugo so he could live longer.
Also, eliotropes can’t help but feel everything Yugo feels too: “We all cherish them as much as you do but nothing belonged to us." - Oropo in S3 to Yugo. It’s like an instinct, a force that they can’t control, they can’t help themselves but go with the feeling.
So again, Echo, what were you thinking??
Not only did you know Oropo would have a much shorter life span than you if he didn’t have access to the Eliacube and the eliatrope dofus (which would still be a pain to use for him), but you knew that he was essentially an exact copy of a person who had created him by accident, AND has a tendency of leaning towards that very same person’s desires more than he can help himself. Even his freaking name (which means “to rest” in French) wants to be at peace aka join Yugo.
Oropo declared he wasn’t going to see the day when his brotherhood become gods because he will die soon. Echo should’ve known, out of anyone, that the time would have come eventually.
So here’s the thing: since Echo knew he was going to die soon, and he was the last of his kind, she knew that Oropo’s life expectancy would go back to Yugo’s body.
Then what? What would she do?? Do nothing and weep?? She was his second-in-command and she truly did love him, so what would she do after that? Become the Eniripsa goddess without expecting to ever see him again??
I don’t think she planned that far.
She should’ve been more aware that falling in love with the COPY of a person who would die before you never ends well.
Again, the eliotropes are not saying that they want to be their own selves. They are perfectly fine accepting what they are and want to be acknowledged by Yugo.
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That was the sole reason why they all appeared before Yugo when he was getting tortured by Toross. That was the main goal, to be acknowledged.
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So Echo, why???
Like genuinely, did love blind you that much???
Also imagine if she actually ended up joining the others in the Inglorium unwillingly….
What are you gonna do, kneel before Yugo and tell him to bring Oropo back???
Literally what???
Someone has gotta tell me how her relationship works with Oropo.
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Shout-out to everyone who survived a "fun" easter with the family
#fucking hell#it started with finding out my dad smoked in my car when I picked up my sister#who was equally dreading the day#my mum turns into the world's tensest and judgemental presence. worsened by my aunt#then hell for autistic people (of which there are multiple present)#multiple deaf people means one uninspired conversation that isn't interesting in any way.#combinations of passive aggressiveness and people not saying a thing because they can't participate. voice volumes too damn high#weirdass food situations. Very full table. so many smells.#this goes on for over an hour. wishing for literally anything but being there. soul crushing.#then you still have to sit in that room for 2.5 hours. it just goes on and on.#my autistic deaf dad physically looks like how I feel. my mum and aunt keep piling on top of him to demand his mental presence#i leave the room once (to get my phone to show pictures to my uncle) and am immediately followed upstairs by my mum#who demands I don't leave the room (What's next. following me when I need the toilet?)#me and my sister are so bored we start throwing paper planes and fake fighting.#Which amuses the bored and the deaf#but of course my mum and aunt have opinions and this is not allowed. only soul crushing boredom allowed#they complain to each other over it while aggressively doing dishes#finally it ends because my mum and aunt start insisting my dad should go to bed if he's 'that tired'. *sprinkle on some additional ableism*#still sitting through a conversation about allergies one of my sister's friends has. my mum preaching that people should take that seriously#(meanwhile i had to cook for myself for 9 years because when my allergies were really bad no one bothered to check if i could eat something)#me and my sister go sit upstairs to discover our mum has made things we care about vanish in her room#and made things appear that should not be there#I've washed the interior of my car and hope the smell will go#you think it's over after that. but woke up with the realisation that even more things have disappeared from my sister's room.#i can't remember a time when things left outside of my room didn't disappear#I don't know why we do these family gatherings at all. no one has fun on days like that.#the housing crisis isn't making these things easy. my sister is losing her place to live again as well#she'll go hiking for a month and then work on a campsite over the summer#maybe I'll go house sitting again. idk.#can't make commitments a few months in advance like that because I'll cancel everything the second Sparks announces anything important
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pholla-jm · 23 days
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My Wife is Real
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IMAGINE: MY WIFE IS REAL~ GOJO X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. use of y/n. use of she/her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Who do you think he’s texting?” Nobara whispers to her two classmates, Yuji and Megumi. 
Their teacher, Gojo Satoru, sat at his desk. Legs kicked up onto the desk while he was on his phone, giggling here and there. 
It was questionable if Gojo even knew that class had started. 
Megumi didn’t even bother to pay attention. He also sat on his phone, scrolling through social media. 
“I don’t know…” Yuji ponders. “Ugh, he has to be harassing a poor soul.” Yuji gasps at Nobara’s response, “no.” 
Nobara sits up in her seat, “Gojo-sensei,” she calls out. Gojo peeks up, “oh. I didn’t know you were here.” “Maybe if you stopped bothering people, you would notice.” 
Gojo places his hand on his chest and gasps dramatically. “I am not bothering anyone.” “Then who are you texting?” “My wife, duh.” 
Nobara bursts out laughing, “hahaha, yeah… yeah right.” She wheezes. Tears left the corner of her eyes as she tried to take him seriously, but she really couldn’t. 
Yuji just stares at him in confusion, “you’ve never told me about his wife. I don’t believe you.” 
Gojo gasps in shock and disbelief at his student’s words. “Huh?! I do too have a wife. That hurts my feelings that you don’t believe me!” 
Gojo’s full focus was on his students now. Trying to convince them that his wife is indeed real. “She’s literally the best person in the whole world, and the prettiest.” 
Nobara scoffs and rolls her eyes, “stop making things up Gojo-sensei. It’s getting sad at this point.” 
Gojo pouts at her words. He then grabs his phone, typing something in his phone. He puts his phone down with a triumphant smile on his face. “You’ll see.” 
“Yeah… we’ll see.” Nobara says to Megumi and Yuji. 
Megumi on the other hand was not paying attention to a single thing that was going on. He assumed something stupid was going on, so why even bother to pay attention? Yuji just has a thoughtful look on his face, trying to remember any mention of a wife. But there is no mention of one. 
“Yeah… I think you’re making this up… sorry Gojo-sensei.” “This is just getting sad…” Nobara whispers while shaking her head. 
“I can’t believe my student’s have little faith in me.” 
Only five minutes passed of slight bickering between until a knock was heard at the door. The bickering died down and all heads turned towards the door. 
Nobara’s and Yuji’s eyes widen seeing a woman at the door. 
“Who is that?” Yuji whispers to Nobara. She shrugs her shoulders, “has to be someone he hired.” 
Gojo jumps from his chair, a huge smile on his face. “Wifey!” 
He runs over to you, pulling you into a tight hold. 
You let out a strangled gasp from the impact. “Gojo,” you start, “this is the second time you forgot your lunch… and it’s only Tuesday.” 
Gojo pulls back, a faux pout on his lips, “I’m sorry.” You narrow your eyes at him, “I bet you’re just using this as an excuse to see me.” “Whoops, you caught me. Well, while you’re here. Let me introduce you to my students.” 
“Wait wait-” You didn’t get a chance to stop him because he dragged you into the front of the classroom. 
You eye the three students. Megumi had finally put down the phone, giving you an apologetic look. Nobara and Yuji were looking at you in shock. 
“Students, this is my wife, (y/n).” Gojo basically shows you off with a bright smile on his face. Hands in a jazz hand formation. You nervously smiled at the students. 
“Hello.” 
“Hello Gojo-san.” Megumi quietly said, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear. You gave the boy a sweet smile, nodding at him. 
“What?! Do you know her?” Nobara and Yuji ask him. “Yes…” 
“Yes, they’ve known each other for quite awhile now…. Sorry guys. She’s a bit shy.” Gojo says while you continue to smile at them. 
“They didn’t believe Gojo-sensi had a wife..” Megumi tells you. 
You hum before turning to Gojo, “I see… I don’t blame them.” 
“Huh?! What is that supposed to mean?” You roll your eyes. “Ever so dramatic.” “...so mean.. How can my wife be so cruel?” 
“Ugh, no one cares,” Nobara sighs, “come sit down with us (y/n)-sensei. I have so much to ask you.” 
You just smile at the girl and move over to the desks. 
Gojo looks at you with a shocked look. Not believing that you were leaving his side. 
“What are you doing?” He asks you. You look back at him, “well, you wanted me to meet your students. So I’m getting to know them.” 
You give him a little smirk and Gojo knows that type of smirk. The one where he’s going to regret his actions later. 
Maybe not now, but he knows that this decision will come to bite him.
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 month
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Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.
His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.
She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.
Until he quits.
She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.
She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.
He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.
She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.
He’s a natural.
He takes to it like a duck to water.
She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.
He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.
And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.
He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.
But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.
He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.
Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.
He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.
He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.
He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.
Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”
He gets in.
He goes.
He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.
His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.
In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.
She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.
In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.
Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.
“Sorry, man. Running late.”
Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.
“Harrington? You’re a student here?”
He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.
“Munson? When did you get here?”
“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”
“Violin. You?”
“Guitar and songwriting.”
“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”
Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.
“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”
“What’s it trying to tell us?”
“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”
“Now?”
“Why not? Got better plans?”
Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.
“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”
Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.
“I could make dinner. If you want?”
“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”
Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.
“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”
“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”
Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.
But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.
“Sure.”
They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.
Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.
By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.
By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.
Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.
And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.
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singingcicadas · 1 month
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Megatron's Opposite Day
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"I free slaves"
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This is Soundwave binding Ratbat but seeing as Megatron did the same thing to Pentius by putting his spark into Trypticon and reformatted Rumble and Frenzy into cassettes against their will I think he approves a lot of this practice
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Megatron on Optimus and humans, after his defeat in All Hail Megatron ⬇️
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he really salty
"I implant ideology" aka brainwashing
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Decepticon cause = Megatron. nuff said.
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"I liberate cities" says the person who let Nyon burn to make a point
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Cities are too small, think bigger
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Holding New York hostage.
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"Like Autobots, they believe in the sanctity of life" which he doesn't. Kudos for being honest.
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Allowing troops to do free-rein massacre is a reward for conquest. Nothing like some easy murder for de-stressing.
The Simanzi massacre which halved the Cybertronian population is off-screen so it doesn't deserve its own pic
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"The revolution"
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"We only feel good when we stand with a blade in one hand and a throat in another" "Let's make the entire face of the planet into our new gladiator arena"
What nice, confidence-inspiring revolutionaries. I'm sure they'll rule the population with benevolence after they've killed all the Necessary People with Necessary Violence. Final interpretation of what constitutes as Necessary is reserved for the sole discretion of Megatron, ofc.
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Good goals.
Sentinel might be an absolute asshole but at least he's got one thing right: they're literally a gang of thugs who gets high off murder.
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"The people are my utmost concern"
'The people': ................
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"Battling for freedom"
Freedom of what? Function? Autonomy?
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Religion?
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the ability to choose whether to fight? on which side to fight?
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Idk why they used the word "pogrom" for this, it's way too specific
Anyways it doesn't matter, they won't be missed.
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Good for Bumblebee for calling him out. Screenshotted this just to appreciate Megatron's bitchy face ⬇️
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Other urban legends:
"Megatron loves Cybertron" let's just burrrrn it
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He did fight to save Cybertron in Chaos Theory but also made it pretty clear why he did it. It's not out of the goodness of his heart or any sentimental reasons like that. It's an ego/dominance thing.
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Plus his wording when he's trying to convince Optimus to let him go with the Lost Light: "I broke the planet. And that, Optimus, is why I owe it to you - to everyone - to find a replacement."
Replacement.
In other words: I made a mess and can't be bothered to clean it up, so I want to get away from it and find somewhere new to start clean.
I don't think Optimus appreciates the favour.
"Megatron tore down a corrupt government" which is true, just too bad that he's worse
He's also, um, a closeted Zeta admirer?
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"Megatron advocates equality" ???
Megatron x dictatorship is literally his OTP. They were inseparable for four million years. A lot of people died trying.
"Megatron cares about the Decepticons" no he doesn't. Not his troops nor its cause.
Like for one thing he treats them with complete scorn
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Admits that the most useful thing about keeping Starscream around is that he can bully underlings into line
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Wants to use the humans' nuke to get rid of his troops and reformat them into peaceful drones after they outlive their use because they were "too ruthless" for his perfect peaceful society
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Has zero scruples about fighting Deceptigod, just affronted that his own soldiers are being used against him
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And basically just drops the Decepticons like a bag of vermin after he surrenders. He never once mentions them of his own accord, other than to insist he has nothing to do with them. Even his surrender speech is something Optimus makes him do as exchange b/c he wants to go on parole. He wasn't planning on making a public address otherwise, he was just going to leave them hanging.
Looking at the publication timeline, Megatron started out as an established Evil McEvilson-type villain similar to how he is in G1 and it's not until Chaos Theory in 2011 that JRo really gave him a sympathetic backstory that drew his characterization away from the bloodthirsty pugno ergo sum warlord into someone who once held ideals about societal reform and remains convinced of his own moral supremacy throughout the 4 mill years of death and war, adding worldbuilding such as Functionism/oppression/government corruption as justification for the beginning of the Decepticon movement. But because the start of the Decepticons was already written in Megatron Origins and every evil thing he'd done up till Chaos Theory can't be retracted and they had to keep Megatron as a villain until his story was no longer central to the Autobot-Decepticon war line, and JRo didn't try to downplay the atrocities he'd committed (some of the most sadistically disturbing things Megatron did were exclusively in MTMTE flashbacks), but rather tried to distance him from them and placed the focus on the juxtapositions to emphasize change, this as a whole just resulted in Evil McEvilson getting turned into Hyper McHypocrite.
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thelargefrye · 6 months
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GODS … mature one - shot | pt. one
pairing : emperor!san x princess!f!reader
genre : slight historical fiction, mature, dark, arranged marriage, second chance, slow burn, eventually smut
word count : 3.5k
warnings : language, blood / body gore, death / murder, hints of dismemberment, san is evil, name calling (stupid girl)
special birthday suffering tag : @sanjoongie please accept this as an early birthday present from your braincell
note : inspired by san's performance video that literally wrecked all of us. none of are safe from his power and this proved it. also this was getting a little too long so i decided to split it up into at least two parts
after your life is unrightfully taken from you, you take this second chance as a way to finally survive and make a difference for yourself. you were tired of being a prisoner and feeling unwanted.
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the dining hall was empty except for you and a few guards and servants. not another soul sitting at the long dining table despite it being able to sit twenty people easily, if not more.
it bothered you that you ate alone. every meal, breakfast, lunch, and dinner was by yourself. honestly, a lot of things bother you, but you were never allowed to say what was on your mind. it bothers you that you eat alone, that you have no one to talk to, that your family willingly gave you up to some demon emperor. what bothered you the most is that your "husband" never even gave you the time of day and that you were forced to listen to the maids whisper and gossip about you.
you saw the look of pity in their eyes.
you don't want their pity. you've never wanted anything but freedom for the last three years you've been trapped in this palace.
you were supposed to marry someone who loved you. have a big ceremony and live happily ever after. instead... instead you were taken away from your family by emperor san and forced to marry him. you were a pawn to him in order to gain control over your kingdom.
a prisoner forced to spend the rest of her life trapped in a loveless marriage and life.
you do your best to push down the negative thoughts as you eat. not wanting to get choked up on tears and cry. you didn't want anyone to see you cry.
especially not these gossiping maids.
"i heard the emperor went to the brothel last night."
"again! does him and the princess not spend nights together?"
"of course not. his highness isn't interested in the princess. their quarters are on completely different sides of the palace. i'm surprised he hasn't killed her, yet."
"i am too."
you try your best to ignore them.
when you've finished eating, you get up from the lonely dining table and exit the room. the maids have their eyes casted downward as you walk past them, acting as if they hadn't just been talking about you. your personal guard, mingi, follows you down the hall.
you remember when you first arrived at the palace, san introduced you to mingi and explained how he will be your personal guard.
"don't try anything stupid, mingi has orders to kill you on sight if you do," san's words still haunt you. mingi wasn't here to protect you, but to watch over you and make sure you never tried anything stupid.
when you return to your quarters, you take your usual seat by your window. the window that overlooks most of palace's entrance and the palace wall that keeps you trapped. too high to climb and too far to even try to attempt to make a run for it. like san purposely chose this room for you as a way to mock you. to let you know that you will always be a prisoner.
still, you can't help but wonder if one day you'll be able to be free and live happily.
however, that will only remain a dream until san crushes it as well like he done to all your other dreams.
"ow," you hiss out, finger immediately coming to your lips to try and stop the small prick of blood. you guess that's what you get for getting lost in your thoughts while attempting to work on your embroider.
you look down at the small cloth with the flower design slowly being sewn into it. embroidering was the only thing that kept you sane in this prison. you're waiting for the day san takes this away from you as well.
"princess, are you alright?" a voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look up to see one of the other guards, yeosang, coming into your room.
"i'm fine. just pricked my finger," you say and he nodded his head.
"the emperor is here to see you," he says before stepping aside to let your husband enter your room. he walks in exuding so much power and authority and you hate it. you hate him for how much control he has. you're forbidden from entering the west wing – his quarters – of the palace, yet he's allowed to come in the east wing and even your room without having to ask. you hate it.
"girl," he begins, never has he addressed you by your name. always just 'girl' or 'stupid girl' when it comes to you, like you weren't of your name let alone your title. "pack your bag, i'm sending you back to your home kingdom for a week. you'll be leaving tomorrow morning."
his words take you by surprise. you'll be... returning home? after three years of being away from your family, you'll finally get to see them?
"r-really?" you ask, standing up and completely forgetting about your pricked finger.
"what are you deaf, girl. i'm not going to repeat myself," he says with an annoyed huff and turns to leave.
"wait!" he stops in his tracks at your voice, but he doesn't turn around to look at you. "why am i going? is everything alright?"
"when did you ask so many fucking questions? be grateful i'm sending you there in the first place," he doesn't say anything else before he takes his leave. the door to your bedroom slamming shut behind him and you immediately flinch at the sound.
"are you ready, princess?" yeosang's voice catches you off guard as you look up at the palace you had been trapped inside for three years. being in the front courtyard gives you a completely different set of emotions knowing that you will be away from this place. even if it is for a week.
you asked yeosang if san was going to come, but the guard completely avoided your question. you're not surprised he's not showing up, but it still hurts nonetheless.
then something else hits you.
"where's mingi?"
"he's had some last minute orders from the emperor," yeosang says, keeping his answer vague like always. "come, princess, we have a long trip ahead of us."
you don't say anything but instead silently climb into the carriage. once you're settled inside, the carriage begins to move and you can't help but look out the window watching as you leave the palace.
you couldn't help the smile that painted your lips knowing that you were finally getting to return to your family. you knew nothing could ruin this moment, not even your ruthless husband.
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yeosang let out an exhausted breath as he ran towards the palace. the guards standing at their post immediately recognized their fellow soldier, even with his beaten and bruised body.
"yeosang!" the handsome guard recognizes the deep voice from anywhere and he immediately falls into mingi's arms. collapsing from his injuries, no longer able to stand. then mingi realized something as he and some other guards helped his friend. "where's the princess?"
yeosang looked at mingi with tearful eyes before he shook his head and mingi felt something in stomach twist.
"where's the princess, yeosang?"
"i couldn't... i couldn't– bandits ambushed us... i tried, mingi, i really did, but they–
yeosang couldn't finish his words due to how choked up he was getting, but mingi understood what his friend was trying to say.
"where is she?"
"she's in the forest," yeosang answered and mingi immediately set out on his horse with his best friend and fellow guard, yunho. the two were deep into the forest before they finally came across the carriage you had left in.
the entire carriage was destroyed, the wheels broken off and the main part crashed into a large oak tree. bodies of the driver and some others were laying, scattered around and blood was everywhere.
"mingi..." yunho is attempting to be strong as he watches his friend make his way towards the carriage door. it too had been broken and destroyed and the two guards noted how all of your luggage was gone. "those bandits took everything."
mingi ignored his friend in favor of opening the carriage door. however, instead of being met with an empty carriage, he was greeted with something worse.
"fuck!" mingi has to pull himself away from the carriage. tripping over the tree roots as he bends over and vomits. the sight in the carriage burned into his eyes even as he blinks. yunho watches his friend with concern before he's watching him breakdown and sob. tears running down his cheeks and snot running down his nose and over his chin from how hard his was sobbing. mingi's throat burned from when he threw up.
yunho looked between mingi and the carriage before taking several steps towards the carriage. mingi's voice repeating "oh god, oh god, i'm so sorry. please forgive me" is like a broken record in the background. and then yunho reaches over and opens the door and the sight within makes his whole being shake in terror.
when they arrived back to the palace, mingi carried a bag with him as they reached the throne room. san was sitting on his throne with his usually bored expression; however, mingi and yunho entering caught his attention.
"what's wrong with you two?"
"your highness," yunho begins, voice shaking as he starts to talk. however, yunho doesn't know what to say. he's at a loss for words.
"well? what the fuck is wrong you both?" san asks again, standing up and walking towards the two guards. mingi doesn't say anything except hand the bag over to him. "what is this?"
"your highness, the princess's carriage was attacked by bandits. yeosang managed to make it back, but..." yunho says, finally finding his words. he continues after a moment and at the same time san opens the bag. "the princess did not make it. we brought back... what was left of her."
the image of your body laying in the carriage burns in yunho's mind. he had never seen something as horrific before during his time as a soldier and especially done to an innocent woman like you. you did nothing wrong, just someone trapped in a situation you had no control over.
san says nothing as he looks inside the bag, letting the contents settle into his mind before he's carelessly dropping the bag onto the ground in front of his feet.
"oh well."
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you can't help the scream that rips through your throat as you thrash around your bed. your covers flying everywhere before settling either back onto your bed or in the floor. your heart is beating rapidly in your ears and your eyes scan the room around you.
you couldn't help but let out another scream as your door is thrown open and in comes mingi with a concerned look.
"what's wrong, princess?" in any other moment you would have found his voice a comfort. but in this moment, you couldn't even find the proper words. the only thing leaving your lips were sobs as tears ran down your face.
it had felt so real, you thought as you curled yourself into a ball. you felt like you had actually died. alone in that forest as those bandits... no. you don't really want to think about it anymore.
"princess y/n?" mingi speaks again earning your attention as you look at him with tear-stained cheeks and glassy eyes.
"i... i had a nightmare," you said as you wiped away your tears. you hated yourself for crying in front of someone, mingi especially. "sorry."
"ah, its alright, princess. just gave me a scare is all," he says before he's bowing his head towards you and leaving.
when the door closed behind him, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. your hands instinctively come up to your neck, feeling a slight ache course through your body. you try to push back the feeling as your stood you and made your way to your ensuite bathroom to get ready.
you remember when you first arrived how you had at least three handmaids to help you get ready, only helping you because they were afraid of san. however, once they realized san didn't care about you, they stopped doing their duty and showing up. only one continued to be loyal to you, yeri.
but then three months ago you found out that yeri only remained by your side because she wanted to try and get close to san. she knew she was a pretty woman and san went after any pretty woman. after she got what she wanted she too–
"princess y/n, what are you doing running your own bath?" the familiar feminine voice snaps you out of your thoughts. standing up from the the edge of the tub, you're surprised to see yeri standing at you bathroom door.
"what are you doing here?" you asked, a little surprised to suddenly see her in your room.
"hm? what are you talking about princess? i'm your handmaiden, i'm suppose to be here," she answers and something feels unease as seeing her settles in your stomach. something wasn't right.
you vividly remember the night you found san pinning her to the wall and her words that were meant to bring you down. "wouldn't you rather someone who could properly please you, your highness? someone much prettier than your ugly and boring wife?" you remember who she tilted her head to the side in a flirting manner, even twirling her hair as the word left her mouth a stabbed your heart.
you remember how san only smirked at her before continuing to have his way with her. right there in hallway and in the east wing – "your" wing.
you had thought she was a friend, but when you heard those words you immediately knew she wasn't. you trusted her and she betrayed that trust. she didn't care. she was like everyone else.
"here, princess, let me finish–
"stop talking," you cut her off, voice as cold as you could make it. you couldn't stand looking at her. "is this some sick and twisted joke to you?" you ask, glaring at her. yeri's face is immediately covered in confusion and she opens her mouth to say something. "get out. i don't need you to do anything for me."
"but princes–
"i said get out!" you've never raised your voice, but the longer you looked at her the more you realized that she was able to easily get what you could never have. san's attention.
you could have sworn you seen yeri's fake persona fall for a split second from your new attitude before she's turning on her feet and rushing out of the room.
you let your anger subdue before you're turning back to the tub and quickly turning off the water before it begins to overflow into the floor. because honestly that was the last thing you need right now after just waking up.
you allow the warm water engulf you and you let out a sigh as you sink into the water. your hair placed carefully on top of your head as a way to keep it dry, knowing it was going to be a pain to do if you got it wet. the ache and soreness in your body was still there all around you. your neck, wrist, arms, stomach, and legs all had a type of ache to them that you never experienced before.
maybe you should visit the palace doctor later, you think before you let your eyes close. however, once you close your eyes you are immediately brought back to your nightmare. the screams of the driver and other servants ringing in your ears, the carriage door ripping open and those bandits standing there and their swords shining despite the darkness of the night.
you suddenly open your eyes again in order to make sure you were still in your bathroom. eyes darting around the room as if those bandits would also be here. its only after several minutes does your heart rate calm down before you can even will yourself to get out the tub.
the water had grown cold.
"princess, are you alright? do you need to see the doctor?" one the maids ask when she notice you keep repeatedly rubbing your wrists and neck.
"i... i think i just slept wrong," you say in an attempt to brush her concern off.
"alright, princess, but if it gets worse please let someone know," she says and you nod and thank her before she's going back to her place with the other maids in the dining room.
"i heard she dismissed yeri this morning, yelled at her and told her to get out," one of the maid's said in a hushed whisper.
"really? that's surprising considering how much the princess liked her."
"i say yeri deserved it because of how she has been trying to sleep with the emperor."
trying? as if she hadn't done it yet? how is that possible when she did sleep with san three months ago?
the unsettling feeling reappears as you continue to think about yeri and the nightmare. something just wasn't clicking.
"excuse me," you say and one of the maids immediately come over to you.
"yes, your highness? what's wrong?"
"what... what month is it?"
"august, your highness."
"a-august?" your shocked by her answer. it was august? that was three months ago. how is this possible?
"p-princess are you alright? you look ill," her voice sounds far away as you begin to lose focus on the things around you. everything becomes blurry and you're quick to stand up. chair scraping along the floor before tipping over and falling to the floor.
you begin to walk away, ignoring the maids calling after you and even some of the guards, but you ignore them all. this was just some sick joke from all of them. from yeri, to mingi, to the maids, to san. you were supposed to be in october and spending a week with your family. not in fucking august with people who hated you.
you don't have time to comprehend anything else before your falling to your knees and passing out in the middle of the hallway.
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after you had passed out, you had woke up in your bedroom with mingi, yeosang, and the palace doctor surrounding your bed along with a young maid.
the maid was the first to notice you awake and she immediately collapsed at your bedside with tears welling up in her eyes.
"oh, princess, i'm so glad that you're awake! we were all worried sick about you!" she said and your eyes moved from between her to the two guards and then the doctor.
"how do you feel, your highness?" the doctor asked and it took you a moment before you actually answered him.
"i'm fine," you answer despite how your body still aches, you force yourself to sit up. the young maid is quick to adjust your pillows for you as you do.
"you all can leave," you add on looking at the guards and doctor. mingi and yeosang as hesitant to follow your orders, but the doctor does so before giving you instructions to take it easy for the rest of the day. he also said that he would make sure your meals are delivered to your room and that he'll come back later.
when the three males leave, you are left alone with the maid. her doe eyes looking at you with concern as she keeps a watchful eye on you. that's when her name finally comes to you.
"yunjin..." you say trailing off as you remember that she was with you in the carriage. you remember watching as the bandits grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out of the carriage because she tried to protect you.
"yes, ma'am? do you need anything?" she asks, voice hopeful and waiting to help you. you remember she began working for you when hongjoong – san's advisor, had found out that you had no one helping you. you know he only assigned yunjin because he took pity on you like everyone else here.
however, yunjin followed you around and listened to every order you gave her. at first you were worried that she would be like yeri, only using you to see the emperor. as if you see him on the daily. but then you learned that yunjin was a devoted servant to you.
"is it... really august?" you asked her, still not able to wrap your head around everything.
"yes, princess."
what if... oh god, what if you did actually die that night? does this mean you are given a second chance? a second chance to survive and to make sure that you and yunjin and the other servants don't die.
but how were you going to do this?
and then you hear loud cheers and noises coming from outside and you have to force your body to crawl out of bed and over to the window. then you see him.
san walking through the gates and into the courtyard, a small army of followers around him. following him around like he was some god. then it clicked inside your brain.
if you were going to survive then you would have to gain his favor. deep down you know san was probably the one behind the "bandit" attack. so getting on his good side would get him to call off the bandit attack.
you were going to win over your ruthless husband.
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610 notes · View notes
writingouthere · 6 months
Text
Nanami is Your Best Friend But Wants More
Implied smut, pining, 1.1k
Nanami couldn't help it, he'd been trying to ignore the feeling rising in him for months now and it was only getting worse. He felt worn down by guilt, guilt for how he felt about you and how he felt like he was violating your trust by looking at you how he did when he knew you trusted him to not do that exact thing. Guilt for how in this moment he couldn't hear a thing you were saying, too distracted by how watching you cook in his apartment was making him absolutely fucking feral.
"Kento? Ken, hellooooo? Are you even listening to me?"
"Hm?" He asked, in fact not listening. He usually gave you his undivided attention but currently his attention was taken up by the way the apron you were wearing brushed against your bare thighs, the pajama shorts you were wearing so high up on your legs that they certainly weren't going to protect you from fuck anything.
"I was telling you about how Gojo tricked Yuji into literally banging pots and pans around the classroom today. I thought it was a good one."
"Mmhm." The apron moved with your hand gestures. He would have found it cute if the knife in your hand didn't move along with it. He got up as you continued talking.
"-I mean I get why he is the head of the department, but also should we take a second to think about how being a genius doesn't mean you can't also be a fucking idiot-what are you doing?"
He took the knife from your hand and turned it down to the floor, away from you.
"You cannot swing the knife around like that, you'll hurt yourself."
"I talk with my hands, you know that." You rolled your eyes but you let him push you gently to the side and start cutting the vegetables you had laid out. "It said to slice the onions, not dice babe. We're going to caramelize them."
The knife dropped out of his hand and he just stood there listening to you hum along to the pop song you had blaring from your speaker.
You were his friend, maybe his best friend and there was no one in the world who knew him better, that he wanted to know him. But, this, this was too much.
"Kento?"
"You can't call me that."
You scoffed. "Little late for that, I've been calling you Kento for years."
"Babe, you can't call me babe." He turned to look at you, finally and you were looking at him, confusion and hurt swirling in your beautiful eyes. You were leaning against the counter and if he didn't know better, he would think you were just casually speaking with him. But he did know better, he knew you better. The fingers on your right hand were wrapped around your left wrist, the knuckles showing the tension. He could see where your thumb pressed against your pulse point, a tick that you showed whenever you felt anxious.
"Sorry, didn't realize it would offend you so much. I call a lot of people babe, it doesn't have to mean what you think it means-"
"And if I want it to mean something? If I don't want to just be people."
He saw your chest hitch and your hands dropped the fiddle with the strings of the apron behind your back.
"You don't fucking mean that, don't say shit like that. That's not funny."
"I'm not joking and I do mean it." He walked up to you and placed both his hands on the counter by your waist. Your hands dropped the apron and they tentatively landed on his forearms. Your eyes landed on where your fingers brushed his skin and he leaned down so he could press his nose against your temple.
"What are we doing?" He sighed against your skin, watching as his breath ruffled your hair.
"I-I don't know what you mean. You're the one doing something." You were trying to say it with your usual sass but he could hear the nerves distorting your tone.
"I'm not doing anything you didn't make me do."
"Make you do-"
"Yeah babe, you made me. You with your little apron welcoming me home with dinner on the stove. You with your candles and your terrible taste in music and these shorts, fuck these shorts, why even bother to wear anything at all?"
"I wore these because they are comfortable and what do you mean my shitty taste in music-
"Babe-
"If you interrupt me one more time Kento, I'm going to leave." You hissed and your hands dug into where they were on his arms. He laughed and leaned back so he could look at you.
"Fine, what did you want to say?"
You bit your lip, obviously not thinking this far ahead. You hesitated and he almost apologized, backed away and got to his knees to beg you to not walk out of his life no matter how crass he just got with you.
"I love you. That's what I would say." You looked him right in the eye for the first time since he had cornered you on the counter and he felt a sense of relief that had him leaning further over you, his hands digging into the counter.
"You love me?" You nodded and he let out a soft laugh before pressing his lips against your forehead. He heard your hitch in breath and brought his lips down to your cheek, the gesture chaste but every thought in his head anything but.
"Is that why you're wearing this and making me dinner? Because you love me? You already here spoiling me, making me imagine what it would be like to come to this every fucking day. My sweet little wife welcoming me home after a hard day." You whimpered as his lips finally came to the corner of your own.
"Kento, that-I just said I love you. You haven't even said it back and you're acting like I proposed." He stepped back and grabbed your chin in his hand so he knows you will hear the next part.
"I love you. I have for a long time and I plan to marry you." You laugh a little this time Kento pulls your thighs apart so he can step in between them as he goes to lower his lips to yours, with intention this time.
"You can't just say that, Ken."
He smiles against your lips, brushes his hand up your thighs and under the apron you had so sweetly put on for him until he could play with the hem of the shorts that had started this whole thing.
"Babe, I just did."
He kissed you, finally. He figured he would just have to convince you he was serious.
719 notes · View notes
notafunkiller · 5 months
Text
treat you better
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Summary: Caught between playing the girlfriend of Bucky's younger brother and the unexpected allure of Bucky's genuine affection, you don't know what to do.
Pairing: (fake) boyfriend's brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings: age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 38/39), teasing, pet names, language, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 3.7K
story masterlist
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: This story will have around 4 parts, so this is just the beginning. And I also want to thank @marvelouslizzie and @lavenderhaze967 for their support!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
It’s hard to ignore how loudly he chews or how some water drips down his chin as he drinks between bites. For someone educated well, he has no manners.
“Come on, eat faster. He’s gonna come any second.”
You drop your fork on the plate and give him a look. As if! “I am not gonna do anything like that.”
He is his brother, not the devil. And he actually seemed pretty nice when you met earlier. The fact that William is so scared is funny.
“You don’t ever listen to me.”
“I wonder why.” Your sarcastic answer gets a sigh out of him before he stands up, throwing a napkin on the plate.
“I’ll take a walk.”
“And? Do you want my approval?” You literally couldn’t care less what he does or doesn’t. He’s annoying.
“No, I told you in case he comes down...”
You can’t imagine dealing with this version of him for days, or however long The Devil decides to stay. You snort. “Go ahead, take a walk. Take three walks, I can handle myself.”
He leaves without saying anything else, and you smile, scrolling on your Instagram feed. Fucking finally!
You don’t know how your families considered this a good idea. You are close to hitting him every day, but it seems like things only become worse and worse. You just wish you could just run away and never come back.
“Do you mind if I sit here?”
You look up, jumping. It must be ridiculous to be so shocked since he’s the only one who could come here since William left. You let the phone down and wave to the chair in front of you.
“Please, this is your house.”
The Devil gives you a polite smile. Manners... at least one brother has them. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“You won’t eat me, right?”
He gives you a look you can’t exactly decode, and that bothers you. You are good at reading people usually.
“No, love, I won’t eat you.” He sits down amused, and you stare at his arms as he reaches for the chicken plate without realizing. He’s... big.
“Bon appetit!” You smile.
“I didn’t say I won’t bite, though.”
You freeze, thinking he is flirting with you for a second. But it’s ridiculous, there’s no way. Everyone spoke so highly of him: how he is always serious, how he’d be against this whole arrangement. No way he’d flirt with his little brother’s girlfriend. “Is the chicken not enough for you?”
He laughs softly, and you can’t help but stare at him a little more. He shaved and has a small cut right under his chin. Jesus, he is really hot! The little dimple, the eyes and that nose...
“Do what do you do?”
“As in for work?”
“Yep.” He empathizes the p in a very childlike way, which makes you wonder even more how old he is. You should totally ask William later.
“I work for my parents’ company,” you whisper ashamed. You always hate when you say that out loud, but, somehow, it feels even more embarrassing now. You can feel his eyes on you, but you don’t look at him.
“What do you do there?”
“Basic HR work.”
“Is the payment that low?”
You snort. “What?”
“You sounded, so I assumed...”
“It is a little low, not gonna lie. But I mean, no nepo baby judgement…?” You hesitate because you realize you don’t remember his name. Fuck! You and your bad memory.
“What? Why are you blushing?” He leans in, placing his elbows on the table to get closer to you.
How horrible can this situation get?
“I just... can I ask something?”
“I don’t know, love, can you?”
You roll your eyes. You know what? He deserves it.
“What was your name again?”
He doesn’t seem surprised or bothered by your question.
“Full name? James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. Should I write it down in case you forget?”
He gently takes out a pen out of his front pocket and grabs your hand. You tremble a little as he starts to actually write his name on your wrist. The letters get a little smudged, but they’re still clear.
Holy fuck...
He’s warm, but not too warm, so you wait for him to let you go.
“Do you always carry pens around?”
“Only on special occasions.” He winks and gets back to eating, letting the pen on the table.
“How old are you?” You ask before you can change your mind as you keep staring at your wrist. He looks in his early 30s, and since he’s the oldest one, it would make sense.
“Didn’t Will tell you?”
You blush again. “You can see my memory isn’t the best.”
He sighs, suddenly shy and reserved, and you wonder if this is somehow a weak spot. But how would age be a weak spot for a man like this?
“Old.” He smiles. “Thirty-eight.”
You try not to look affected as your eyes drop instantly on his left hand. No wedding band.
And he notices.
“He didn’t tell you I’m single, either?”
You take a few slices of cucumber and eat them fast. “Why would he?”
“I’m his brother.”
You throat feels dry as you nervously swallow. “And I am his girlfriend...”
Bucky nods and immediately starts eating.
“That’s all?” You ask. “No threat not to hurt your brother? No background questions?”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“I would have guessed twenty-five.”
You snort. “Really? I was told I look younger than that.”
Bucky shrugs in response. “I assumed you’ve been working for a while, and my brother likes them his age or older.” He pours himself a glass of water, and you watch him drink without any shame, not even caring if he notices. You’re already flushed, and he’s a good view.
“I guess I fit the standard.”
He bites his lip while placing the glass down and shakes his head. “Nope, actually you don’t, this is why it’s really interesting.” He smiles. “How did you two meet?”
“The office. He came with his... your dad and we met at an event,” you answer instantly. Your parents have already made up the story for you, and you had to practice it a few times to make it sound genuine, which was a real struggle.
“Was it love at first sight?”
You snort. “That doesn’t exist.”
“Attraction?”
You try to subtly take a deep breath and pray you’ll sound as convincing as you could. “Look, he seemed like a nice guy, good looking and smart. And he asked me out-”
“He asked you out?” His eyes widen in sheer astonishment. “He always waits for girls to ask him out.”
This is when you snap. What is this? An interrogation?
“And? He asked me out. People make exceptions sometimes, Mr...” you pretend you forgot his name again before you look at your wrist. “Bucky.”
“I understand. My bad, didn’t want to make you mad.”
You puff because his tone in everything but apologetic. “I am not mad!”
“No, obviously. Just like you didn’t pretend you don’t remember my name a second ago.”
You bite your cheek annoyed. “Do you not have something more important to do than this?” You gesture between you two.
Not a smart move, but you are exposed anyway.
“But this,” he copies your hands moves. “is fun. And I am just getting to know my little brother’s girl. Since we’ll live together and stuff.”
What?
“You plan on staying?”
Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Of course.” He smiles. “Where is William? I want to know more about how he asked you out.”
*
You can’t say you’ve been avoiding William, but you’re not necessarily enjoying his company. Since Bucky came, he’s been like a bomb, scared, annoyed, always suggesting you to move in his room because his brother will notice, but you brushed him off constantly.
Unfortunately, you can’t tell him to go away now, too, as he drinks coffee in his gazebo.
“Do you want to go out? For a walk or lunch,” he asks, his voice carrying a hopeful note 
“No, thanks.” You don’t intend to sound rude, but it comes out like this anyway.
His face falls, a subtle disappointment etched across his features, but he tries to hide it by taking a sip of his coffee. Instantly, a pang of guilt hits you.
“Look, I’m sorry, I just... I just don’t feel like going out.” With you.
“Well, you should at least try to make an effort, we should be seen together, you know?” he remarks, his tone slightly reproachful. You nod, realizing he must be also pressured by his family the same way yours pressures you.
“I understand. I assume they put pressure on you.”
He sighs. “Of course they do, but like I think it’s a good idea.”
“What’s a good idea?”
You know it’s Bucky not only by the way William stiffens, but you can also easily recognize his voice, and it’s hard to ignore how attractive you find it.
“To go out more often,” you quickly say, avoiding his eyes. “I told him he should have fun since work has been stressful.”
“What about you?” He casually drops on the chair between you two and takes a bite from his sandwich.
“What about her?” William asks, , his tension evident in his voice.
“Don’t you need some stress relief?”
“I’m alright.” You finally look properly at him as you speak. He’s wearing a white tank top and his disheveled hair adds to the casual allure. He’s so well-proportioned...
“Good.” He smiles and turns to William. “What’s wrong, punk?”
“Just work, you know? Business, you wouldn’t understand.”
You and Bucky snort.
“Sure, buddy, I wouldn’t understand.”
“Are you having siblings time? Should I leave?” you ask, hoping for a positive response.
“Babe, no need.”
You try not to cringe at the way the word babe sounds coming from him and force yourself to give him a polite smile.
“Please, babe, no problem.” You stand up waving, toward Bucky. “Bye.”
Their brotherly time didn’t last long, though. You take a short shower, and as you finish dressing up, you hear a knock on your door.
“You can come in.”
You expect to see William's face when the door cracks, but no, it's not him at all.
“Hi.”
You freeze.
“H-hi.”
Fuck, what will you tell him now?
“Trouble in paradise?”
“What? No. Uhm...” you look around. “What happened?”
“You sleep here, right?”
“Yep.”
He leans his back against the wall, and you can't help but notice how good he looks in those shorts. Jesus, it's like you haven't seen a man in your life.
“Interesting.” He laughs.
“What’s so funny?” You cross your arms, annoyed. He thinks he’s superior or what?
“You are telling me you two have been together for less than six months and you sleep here?”
The judgement and amusement in his voice piss you off even more, as if the situation you are in isn’t bad enough.
“Yes, and?”
“And?” Bucky comes suddenly closer to you. “Are you seriously asking that?”
“Yes! I don’t see what’s your fucking problem. How does where we sleep concern you?”
“Can’t a man be curious?” 
Fuck your curiosity!
“What if we didn’t wanna sleep together now and wait... does that make us less of a couple?” You let out your anger by screaming at him. You don’t think you’ve said anything more ridiculous than that because, sure, you respect everyone who wants to wait, but that’s not you. There's no way you'd get engaged or marry a guy without knowing what your sex life would be like. No way!
“I didn’t say that, but I know my brother, and he is not this type of person.”
You let a deep breath, finding it hard to take your eyes off his lips.
“What if I am?”
He doesn't answer you, simply moving his right hand to his back pocket and taking out a small perfume, then handing it to you. "I think this belongs to you."
Shit!
“Yes, thank you!”
“So you slept in my bed.”
The way he says it makes it sound like you had sex with him or something. But it still leaves you breathless.
You take the perfume from his hand. “Don’t worry, I changed the sheets.”
“See you at dinner, love.” He snorts, turning a little more toward you before opening the door. “You got taste, though. It smells wonderful.”
*
Maybe it’s the hunger or the lack of sleep. Otherwise, why would this make you angry?
“You look very well.” You roll your eyes as you imitate him before taking a sip of your water. Fuck him for coming here and disturbing you. It was enough you see him every morning and after work.
You hear a knock, then the door opens as soon as you put your bottle down. He didn’t even wait.
“Hi, love. How are you?” A few heads turn toward him and then you, and you groan.
“I’m well, thanks. Why are you here?”
Bucky shakes his head. “This is not a nice welcome.” And then he notices everyone. “Hello.”
You hear a few ‘hi’s, but he only focuses on you.
“Who are you waiting for?” You ask, and your thoughts immediately dart to Dana. He complimented her earlier, after all.
“My dad.”
You roll your eyes. “Fine, keep it a secret. I don’t care.”
“I’m serious.” He snorts. “What has gotten you so worked up? Did you eat your chocolate bar today?”
You puff, trying to keep your annoyance under control. “What’s this question? Are you my mom?”
You can't lie, though. The fact that he noticed your daily chocolate bar ritual makes you happy. Today, however, you didn't have time.
“I can be your dad.”
That makes you gasp.
“Bucky!” you whisper, and he leans in. “We are working here.”
“And?”
“And go away, you disturb us.”
Bucky rolls his eyes and gets behind your back, dragging your chair away from the desk.
“Barnes!”
Jessica laughs behind you. “Such an older brother behavior.” she says casually, and you frown. You don’t want people to consider him your older brother. Well, it’s obvious why they do, but it still bothers you.
“I need you to come with me.”
You sigh. “Don’t you see I am busy?”
“Come onnn!”
You tell Jessica you’ll be right back and manage to take your phone with you before Bucky drags you by the arm to the hallway. Dana looks up, surprised, but this time he doesn’t even turn his head toward her, guiding you to his dad’s office. Dana looks up, surprised, but this time he doesn't even turn his head toward her, guiding you to his dad's office.
“You brought me here to be your babysitter? You are 38, not 8. I am sure you can wait patiently for your daddy.”
He closes the door, and you try to control your breathing. Why does he make you blush so much? It’s been one month since you two met, and he still has this power over you.
“You have a big sassy mouth, love, that is for sure.”
You cross your hands. “And?”
“And what?”
“You won’t even deny you brought me here cause you were bored?”
“Nope. Why would I?”
And there he is, getting closer to you little by little. You have to fight the urge to step back.
“Instead you talk about how big my mouth is...” you murmur and he snorts.
“Quite a big mouth for someone with thin lips.”
Well, that is a low blow. You don’t even have thin-thin lips.
“You’re an asshole.” You try to leave quickly, but he stops you instantly, realizing that made you mad.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way at all. You have a spark.”
“I am working. I do actually work, Bucky. It doesn’t matter this is my family’s company.” You try not to yell, but it’s hard. “I get you’re bored, but-”
“I am sorry.”
“For what?” You voice is a whisper, as you’re still trying to calm down. You’re surprised he apologized so fast.
“For being like a douche. It’s the opposite, I wanted your company because you are really nice and smart. I love our conversations. And you having a big mouth means to me you have an opinion and limits.” He takes your hand and squeezes it.
As he speaks, you can't help but feel a mixture of warmth and confusion. His sincerity catches you off guard, and the tension between you begins to shift. Maybe, just maybe, there's more beneath the surface of his teasing and provocation.
You nod. Maybe you overreacted, he never said anything offensive to you. And you appreciate his company in that house.
“It’s okay, I understand. I am surprised you are here, though.”
He doesn’t let go of you hand, so you don’t either.
“He said he has an offer for the office renovation.” He shrugs. “I cannot refuse without talking first. It wouldn’t be fair.”
You want to answer him, tease and maybe fish for more, but you hear the voices right outside the office and you let go of his hand immediately. As if it burned you, as if you were doing something forbidden.
William steps inside first, followed by his dad and your dad, surprisingly.
Bucky immediately gives you a look and takes a step back.
“You came!” His father welcomed him before turning to you. “Thanks for bringing him to my office.”
You realize this is your clue to go and you slowly walk to the door, intentionally ignoring your father. What shocks you is William grabbing your hand, the same hand Bucky touched before, and kissing your cheek.You realize this is your cue to go, and you slowly walk to the door, intentionally ignoring your father. What shocks you is William grabbing your hand, the same hand Bucky touched before, and then kissing your cheek.
“Thanks, babe.”
You have to clench both of your fists not to punch him in the face, refusing to answer him. You don’t know what bothers you more: the fact that he touched you so casually and called you babe again or that he did this shit in front of your families, and more important his brother.
You feel Bucky’s eyes all over your back and face and you can’t help but turn to look at him. He’s expressionless.
You shake your head. What did you expect?
You get back to your office a little grumpy and upset. Jessica immediately asks you if you’re okay, and you brush it off. Fuck your family, fuck Bucky, and fuck his brother.
But the meeting is surprisingly short since you have Bucky back at your desk fifteen minutes later.
You just can’t take a break, can you?
“What?”
“Shouldn’t you have lunch?” He looks around to emphasize his words, and you roll your eyes. You know everyone left but you.
“I have to finish a few tasks. Why?”
“Your boyfriend left the meeting halfway through cause he was hungry.”
You almost gag. You’ve never hated that word more in your life, but you can’t let him know that.
“And?”
“What do you mean and? Why are you not having lunch with him?”
“Because I have tasks to do!” You snap, irritate, while looking him in the eye. You obviously don’t want to talk about it, but he continues, seemingly unfazed.
“Is he gonna bring you some food?”
“No, we didn’t even talk about it. Can you leave me alone now?”
You are so close to crying for no fucking reason. You can’t let anyone see you like this.
“Prick! He should have waited for you.” He strokes his chin as he speaks, clearly annoyed with his brother. “Want to come with-”
“I’m fine. Had my chocolate bar.” You interrupt him, your voice steady despite the emotional storm within. Finally, he takes the hint.
“Okay, love, I understand. I’ll leave you alone. See you home.” He smiles politely and leaves, giving you the space you need.
Alone in your office, you let out a shaky breath, your hands covering your face as you start sobbing. It’s really touching how understanding Bucky is, even if he’s teasing you. It’s a precious reminder that, amidst the chaos, there's someone who actually cares about your well-being.
*
You wait for William to return from his lunch break, and as soon as you see him, you drag him to his office quickly
“Easy! It hurts.”
“Good, it’s supposed to hurt!”
“What did I do?” He genuinely asks.
“You fucking touched me. You kissed my cheek. Did I allow you?”
“What?” He raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t remember seeing you so angry before.
“I asked you when I gave you permission to put your hands on me!”
“I’m supposed to be your boy-”
“But you are not my fucking boyfriend! You don’t have the option to touch me unless I let you by telling you that you can. And you don’t even have to display a shitty facade because guess what? He doesn’t care.”
“Look, I didn’t mean to...”
“You didn’t mean to what? Get in my space? Take advantage of the situation?” The bitterness in your tone echoes your frustration. “You’re just a man, that’s what you do.”
“Not all-”
You laugh humorlessly, not even a little surprised. “Not all men, right? Well, I heard that one before. But you are officially in all-men category.”
You leave like a storm, letting the door open, and before you can get back to your desk, Dana calls your name.
“Hi, what happened?” You try to sound calm.
“You got a delivery and a note.” She hands them both to you and you can’t help but ask:
“A note?”
Who writes notes anymore?
“Yes.”
You take them from her desk, but you don’t enter your office. You want to read the note first, without Jessica’s eyes on you.
If you don’t eat, I’m gonna punish you... with my presence. So think twice before refusing :)
You almost cry again right there in the middle of the hallway. Fuck him! Just fuck him!
How are you supposed to stop thinking about him when he does this?
754 notes · View notes
starryeyedjanai · 8 months
Text
sitting between comfort and chaos
steddie | 5.7k | rated: teen
5 times everyone thought Steve and Eddie were dating before they got together + the first time Steve tells someone after they actually get together
happy birthday @legitcookie!!! i hope you had a fantastic day!💗
read on ao3
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1.
Thinking back on it all, Steve thinks he should have known something was up when Dustin started letting Eddie sit up front when he drove them places, a spot reserved only for Robin or Erica when Dustin was riding with him.
Steve has seen that kid - who's not really a kid anymore, he's in college now which is so weird to think about - elbow his friends in the neck trying to get to the car first so he could ride shotgun. So giving up the coveted spot for anyone - even Eddie - should have been a giant red flag.
Steve brings up Dustin letting Eddie sit up front to Robin and gets an eye roll for his trouble.
"What?" he asks. "It's not like it isn't weird. The kid will literally only let you or Erica sit up front and he only lets Erica do it because he's afraid of her."
"Yeah, and he let me sit up front because he thought that we were a thing or about to become a thing or whatever," Robin says, like that explains anything.
"Right," he says, not quite getting what she's getting at.
Dustin knows better now and has stopped bothering them about it, stopped asking Steve when he's going to finally ask Robin out. It only took a million years, but he thinks Dustin gets it now.
He still lets Robin sit up front out of habit - and because Steve refused to start the car the one time Dustin tried to bully his way up front with Robin after figuring out they would never be a 'thing'.
"You know he still kind of idolizes both of you and now that you're, you know-" Robin says trailing off.
Steve lost the thread a little bit, but he nods. "Sure, sure," he says.
Now that he and Eddie are friends, Dustin has stopped bugging them about about each other. Maybe Robin's right. Dustin is still just idolizing Eddie and that's why he lets him sit up front.
Steve still thinks it's weird though.
2.
The first instance Steve can remember something weird happening even before Dustin started letting Eddie sit up front was at a club in Indianapolis.
Robin's sitting in between him and Vickie in the booth, talking about her classes this semester, when she stops short.
"Rob?" Steve asks, and then waves a hand in front of her face when she doesn't respond.
She snaps out of it when he boops her nose lightly. "Uh, um. Don't look, but-"
He immediately looks in the direction she was looking in when she spaced out and tries to scope out what she saw that caught her attention so hard she stopped talking. He sees the crowd of dancing people in his line of sight, but he doesn't see anything out of place.
"I said don't look!" she snaps at him and he turns back to her.
"What? I don't see anything!" he says, feeling chagrined at her snapping at him like that. "You can't say 'don't look' and expect me not to look."
"Just- Eddie's, like, dancing on someone right now," she says, tone almost apologetic.
Steve fails to see what's so special about that. Eddie's always hooking up with someone when he and Steve come out together. He doesn't even think it's the first time Robin's seen it, so he isn't sure why she's so shocked. Vickie has a sympathetic look on her face when Steve glances at her to see if she thinks it's weird that Robin is bringing this up.
"Okay?" he says, voice lilting high at the end like a question.
"And you're okay with that?" Robin asks, her eyebrows furrowing.
"Uh, should I not be? He's always hooking up when we go out," he says, looking back over and yep - he's got his tongue down some guy's throat on the dance floor, the guy's hands gripping Eddie's ass to bring their hips together. Steve feels a ribbon of want float through him - it's been a while since he hooked up with someone.
"So, you've got like an arrangement where you can hook up with other people?" Robin asks, confused.
And Steve is also confused. The way she says 'arrangement' like it has connotations that he should understand. Why would he and Eddie have even talked about hooking up with anyone?
His slightly tipsy brain tries to rationalize it - maybe she's talking about when they go out just the two of them, like if Eddie hooks up with someone, Robin's assuming Steve would be all alone. He doesn't have a problem with it - he's a social butterfly when he's drunk and even if he wasn't, Eddie running off to go dance or make out or hook up with someone gives Steve time to find someone to hook up with himself. It's not like he's ever bored when he goes out with Eddie.
So he tells her, "He can literally do whatever he wants, Bobbie."
She sips her drink and stares at him, her gaze scrutinizing, and whatever she sees must appease her because she drops it and starts talking about her courses again.
When he remembers that conversation the next day, all he can think about is how bizarre Robin was acting.
3.
The next weird occurrence he can remember happening, he didn't even find out until after the fact that something was awry.
He's on vacation with most of the older crew, staying at a house near the ocean, just a small little bungalow, for the week that they're in California.
When Steve and Eddie go to drop their suitcases off in the room Nancy shuffles them towards, they pause.
There's only one bed.
He and Eddie look at each other and Eddie says, "Maybe all the rooms have one bed?"
"Yeah, yeah, probably," he says, dragging his suitcase to the far side of the room.
"We probably shouldn't say anything, right?" Eddie asks, later, before they all head out to the beach. "Like, about the room?"
Steve thinks about it. He knows Nancy is the one who got the keys to the house through her parent's friends and she got here earlier than them and scoped out the place. If there was another option to them sharing the same bed, Nancy would have told them. "Yeah, I mean. It's fine, right? You don't have a problem sleeping next to me?"
Eddie shakes his head. "Oh, of course not. I'm good sharing if you are."
"Yeah, it's no problem," Steve says. He kind of can't remember the last time he shared a bed with someone other than Robin when she stays over at his apartment sometimes.
"Okay, then we'll just. Keep it to ourselves. Besides, I feel like Nancy would skin us if we tried to complain about a place we aren't even paying for," Eddie says with a grin. The perk of Nancy's parent's friend having a vacation house is that even though it's a little small, they let them use it for free. And it's empty because they only use it when it's winter in Hawkins.
"She one hundred percent would," Steve agrees, so they drop it and don't bring it up. Too few beds isn't the end of the world.
Waking up with Eddie's arm firmly wrapped around his waist is fine, nice even. If Steve turns off the alarm that woke him, snuggling back into the embrace, making them both late for breakfast when they finally do wake up, that's no one's business but his own.
-
It's later, after they're home, that Eddie stops by and tells him about the extremely bizarre conversation he had with Nancy the last day there.
He says, "So something weird happened on vacation and I don't know what to make of it and I'm only telling you because you're the only other person it affected," as soon as Steve opens the door.
"What happened," Steve asks, instantly worried. He lets him in and Eddie starts pacing in the living room. Steve goes to sit on the couch.
"So, that last day on vacation, Nancy asked me to come sit on her suitcase because it wouldn't close with all the souvenirs she bought. I went into her and Jonathan's room and there were two beds," Eddie says, stopping in place to look at Steve to gauge his reaction.
His eyebrows shoot up. "Oh," he says. He's really not sure what to make of that either.
Eddie starts pacing again.
"Yeah. So I asked her why there were two beds in their room, but not two beds in our room - kind of put my foot in my mouth if I'm being honest. I didn't mean to just blurt it out, but then she said 'we were just trying to make sure everyone was comfortable'," he says, inflecting his voice higher to mimic Nancy.
"What the hell does that mean?" Steve asks, trying to wrack his brain and see if he remembers her telling him anything about her and Jonathan's relationship being shaky. He thought they were good. There were some rocky times before Vecna, with the distance and everything, but once they were both in the same place again, things seemed to smooth out between them. They've been happy together for years as far as he could tell.
"Exactly!" Eddie says, finally coming to sit on the couch next to him. "I literally asked her what does that mean? Because I had no idea. Still have no idea. She said 'what? It's not like you have a problem sharing with Steve', which honestly something about her tone made me feel like I was stepping on her toes, so I just dropped it. But I can't stop thinking about it. Are she and Jonathan okay?"
"As far as I know," Steve says. "That's so weird. But if there is something happening between them, it would make sense that they'd call dibs on the one room that has two beds. I gotta talk to her and see what's going on."
"Don't, like, tell her I told you or anything," Eddie says to him. Steve still thinks it's hilarious that Eddie is patently afraid of Nancy and her guns, which are mostly retired and locked up.
"'Course not," he says. "I'll just ask how they're doing the next time we hang out. I hope it's something they can get through at least."
"Yeah," Eddie sighs. "If they don't make it, how are the rest of us supposed to have a chance?"
Steve does ask Nancy about it later, just casually asks how she and Jonathan are doing.
She kind of narrows her eyes at him and says they're fine, but her voice is suspicious like she isn't sure what he's getting at. He drops it because he's also a little afraid of her.
The entire situation just leaves him confused, though.
He doesn't bring it up to Nancy again, but he does talk to Robin about it because his conversation with Nancy left a weird feeling in his chest.
"Eddie told me Nancy and Jonathan had separate beds on vacation," Steve blurts out, trying to go for casual, but absolutely failing.
She looks over at him with a weird expression on her face and says, "Yeah, I thought you knew that? It was just how it all shook out. Nancy just wanted everyone to be comfortable." And those words are eerily similar to what Eddie told him Nancy said about it.
He asks, "What do you know?"
"What do you mean?" she counters.
"You know something," he says, narrowing his eyes. "Are she and Jonathan alright? I tried asking her, but I felt like she was gonna bite my head off."
"They're fine," Robin says. "Nancy and Jonathan were just taking one for the team."
Steve's still so confused.
Robin must see the confusion on his face because she grabs his hand and says, "Look, we don't really ever talk about it, and that's totally fine by the way, but we all just want you to be happy."
Steve isn't sure where that came from or what it has to do with Nancy and Jonathan, but he's touched that his friends want him to be happy, he supposes.
4.
It's when he and Eddie get an apartment together that Robin brings up the thing she said at the club, jogging his memory of that bizarre night.
She's helping him unpack his room, putting stuff in the drawers, leaving space in some of them like she expects half of his wardrobe to be filled with something else. He thinks it's just another one of her weird quirks. Does she keep yarn for her knitting projects in half of her dresser or something?
He's hanging some shirts and she's folding his jeans when she blurts out, "You know, you don't have to let him 'do whatever he wants' just because it's what he wants, right? You're allowed to have a say in it too, you know."
It takes him a minute to realize who she's even talking about and even longer to realize she's referring to the conversation they had at the club years ago now.
"What- Eddie?" he asks confused. She nods, so he asks, "Why, because we live together now and that should, like, change something?"
Robin sighs, setting the folded jeans in the drawer. "I just mean, this doesn't exactly seem like the type of thing you'd be into. You've never mentioned wanting-"
He cuts her off, and says, "I mean, it's not like I don't also hook up with people when we go out."
That shuts her up for a solid minute. He watches as she processes it and almost wants to roll his eyes. His friends really think he has no love life whatsoever, huh?
He knows he hasn't dated anyone in a long time, but he's fine hooking up with people when he and Eddie go out sometimes. He can't say he doesn't miss having someone, or being in a relationship, but he's fine for now. He's still young, he still has time, you know?
Robin looks at him and says, "Okay. Okay, if that's something you want. Only if it's what you want, though. Don't just let Eddie talk you into something you don't want to do. Don't let him walk all over you."
"Yeah, of course," he says easily. "And if you're worried about us bringing people back here and it causing tension or whatever, we have rules in place and everything."
Robin says, "That- that's good! Rules are good."
'Rules' might be stretching it, but they did talk about guests not staying for longer than one night and trying to keep it down when they do have guests and that's good enough for Steve.
Luckily, Robin seems content to let him drop the subject and talk about how they're thinking of decorating the living room.
5.
The invitation comes in the mail.
Max popped the question - surprising Lucas, who had been agonizing for weeks over how to propose - a few months ago.
They knew the invitations were coming. Max told him over the phone that they'd be coming soon and that she expected them to send back an RSVP even though she already knew they'd be coming.
Steve checks the mail and is surprised to find just one invitation addressed To Steve & Eddie.
He takes the mail inside and shows the invitation to Eddie, who's eating his breakfast, still a little bleary-eyed and soft from sleep.
He drags the chair at the kitchen table closer to Eddie's chair and drops into it as he watches Eddie frown at the envelope in his hands.
He looks at Steve and asks, "Just the one came?"
Steve nods and Eddie opens the envelope to pull out the invitation.
They look over the invitation and Steve notices the RSVP section doesn't have options to add a plus one for either of them.
"Wow," Eddie says, dragging the word out. "None of our friends think either of us would manage to convince someone to come with us to the wedding, huh?"
Steve hums in agreement. He knows Robin, Dustin, El, and Erica helped Max and Lucas with the invitations and no one saw an issue with this one.
"God, are we both so extremely single that not one of our friends thinks we could find a date?" Steve asks, putting his head in his hands.
"Truly and deeply so fucking single, dude," Eddie says, rubbing a hand over Steve's back to lament with him.
+1.
"Hey, can we talk?" Eddie asks him after dinner one night and Steve's heart immediately starts beating out of his chest.
That phrase, even uttered by a friend, out of blue, makes him think something is wrong. He has the irrational thought that he's about to get friend-broken up with or that maybe Eddie wants to get his own place or something, which would really fucking suck.
They've lived together for a long time and are kind of co-parents to a cat now - it would just be a supremely inopportune time for Eddie to suddenly decide he wants out.
Eddie must see the anxiety in his expression because he quickly says, "No, it's nothing bad. It's just- it's actually something good, I'm hoping."
"Uh, okay," Steve says, wringing his hands a little with worry.
Eddie takes a deep breath and says, "So you know how I haven't really been interested in going out or hooking up lately?"
Steve nods, his heart finally calming down a little. Eddie hasn't wanted to go out lately, but it's fine - Steve hasn't really been all that interested either, more content to just lounge around the apartment with Eddie than to go out and try to meet new people.
"It's because there's someone I'm kind of interested in right now, but I'm not sure if he likes me back. It's a close friend, so I've been debating whether or not to say anything because I don't want to screw things up if he doesn't feel the same," Eddie says.
Steve's eyebrows furrow trying to think of who Eddie could be into. The thought that he might be into Jeff or Grant or Gareth, one of his closest friends, makes something in Steve's stomach swirl. He's not sure he likes that. Eddie dating a close friend, moving out to move in with him, sharing a life with him - that leaves a bad taste in Steve's mouth.
But it's Eddie - and Eddie deserves to be happy - so he says, "I think if you like someone, even a friend, you should tell him. If he's into guys, I mean. He'd be a fool to say no to you, whoever he is."
The smile that lights up Eddie's face is a little painful to see for some reason.
"I was hoping you'd say that," Eddie says.
Steve expects Eddie to get up and leave, to go find whoever it is he's into, but he stays put, on the couch next to Steve.
He reaches out and takes one of Steve's hands in his, still looking at him, like he's waiting for something.
Thoughts churn through his brain, first wondering why Eddie would hold his hand when he's apparently in love with one of his friends, and then realizing that he's probably also in the category of people Eddie considers a close friend and then-
Oh.
"Me?" Steve whispers, eyes wide.
That smile is still there, fond and happy.
"You," Eddie says, squeezing his hand.
"But why though?" he blurts out.
Eddie laughs. "We kind of share a life together, dude. We have a cat together and a home. And like, I don't think I've ever wanted anyone the way I want you, so there's also that."
Steve looks at him and thinks about their friendship up until this point, thinks about them deciding to move in together, to keep the stray cat Eddie found, the natural stop to them going out to clubs and bars in favor of staying in together and curling up on the couch.
He thinks of waking up for a week straight on vacation with Eddie's arms wrapped around him, feeling safe in his arms.
He thinks about the feelings that wrap around his heart and squeeze when he looks at Eddie sometimes.
He thinks about Eddie's hand in his right now.
He squeezes his hand back.
"I did say whoever you were into would be stupid to say no to you," he says.
"You did say that," Eddie says. His cheeks are a little flushed and Steve is overcome with the urge to pepper kisses all over them.
He scoots closer on the couch and says, "I meant it."
Eddie leans in closer and says, "I want to kiss you, but I want to be sure that we're on the same page. Like, it's not just about wanting to fuck you, which I do by the way-"
Steve interrupts and says, "I mean, I kind of got that when you said you didn't want to ruin your friendship if I didn't feel the same."
"Shut up, I'm trying to confess my love to you," Eddie says.
"Love?" Steve teases.
The blush on Eddie's face deepens, spreading down his neck. "Kind of. I mean, I've known you for how long now? I think it's kind of impossible to know you and not love you."
There's heat prickling behind Steve's eyes, embarrassingly enough. "I'm gonna kiss you," he says, instead of addressing how that one line has absolutely swept him off his feet.
He pushes closer, closing the small distance between them, getting his mouth on Eddie's for the first time.
Eddie sighs against his mouth, this pleased little sound that lights Steve up from the inside. He wants to kiss Eddie until he's dazed with it, wants to hear all the noises Eddie can make, wants to draw them out of him with his mouth and his hands.
Eddie kisses him and kisses him and kisses him until his mouth feels tender under Eddie's.
He pushes Steve backwards on the couch to lay on top of him, his hips in the cradle of Steve's thighs. He keeps kissing him as he settles his weight on top of Steve, their bodies pressed flush together.
They lick into each other's mouths for a long minute, just tongues tasting each other and mouths moving together.
Steve is working up the courage to touch Eddie, to put his hands on him, when he hears him hiss in pain. He pulls away from Eddie's mouth and sees Trick clawing her way up Eddie's arm to get on the couch.
Eddie sits up and pulls her off his arm and deposits her on Steve's chest. She immediately steps on his windpipe in an attempt to curl up near his head.
"God, your daughter is so mean to me," Steve says as he moves her off his neck.
"To you?" Eddie asks, looking at his arm to make sure he's not bleeding. "It was my arm that she clawed."
Eddie's still perched between Steve's legs, but with Tricky on the couch, there's no way they can go back to making out.
And-
"I have to tell Robin," Steve says.
Eddie grins at him and asks, "Immediately after our first kiss? You're gonna run over to her place?" There's no judgment in his voice and that makes something in Steve's chest feel tender - that Eddie knows how he is with Robin and isn't weird about it.
"Yeah, it won't take long. I'll be back before you know it." Steve watches as Eddie climbs off him and adjusts himself in his pants. He covers Patricia's ears and says, "Trick won't like it, but when I get back, we can lock her out of the bedroom so she can't interrupt us next time."
"Oh yeah? And what are we gonna do 'next time'?" Eddie asks.
"Whatever you want," Steve says, watching the flush return to Eddie's face.
He bites back a grin and says, "Hurry back. I'll, uh, I don't know. I'll get myself ready or something."
Heat floods Steve's veins. "You gonna be waiting for me with a rose in your mouth when I get back?" he teases, trying to dissipate some of that heat.
"I think you're the roses boyfriend, not me."
"Boyfriend?" Steve asks, standing up from the couch.
"Boyfriend," Eddie says, cupping his jaw and kissing him again. It's easy to get swept up in it, the feeling of Eddie's mouth moving against his, the feeling of Eddie's hands on his waist.
He pulls back from the kiss with a slick noise and says, "I'll be back in like twenty minutes."
Eddie nods and lets him go.
Steve grabs his keys and heads over to Robin and Vickie's apartment where he knows Robin will be.
"Bobbin," he calls out as soon as he opens the door to her apartment.
"In here," she calls back from the kitchen.
He rounds the corner of the kitchen and says, "I'm pretty sure I'm in love with Eddie."
He watches several emotions pass over her face, none of them excitement, and deflates a little bit.
She says, "Okay?" like it's a question, like she's confused.
"Like, we're dating now and I'm. We like each other and I'm pretty sure it's more than that for both of us," he say, hoping to get some kind of reaction from her.
"I don't understand," she says.
"What's not to understand? Eddie and I- we're together now," he says, in case she didn't get it the first time.
Robin squints at him and says, "Okay, but you've never wanted to talk about it before. What's changed?"
"What do you mean, what's changed? We kissed and he said he was confessing his love to me. I thought you'd be happy?" His chest feels a little tight at the thought of Robin not approving. He really thought she'd be happy.
"Did you, like, break up and not tell me? Why would him confessing his love to you warrant a house call? Where is this coming from?" she asks, and Steve's moment of hurt is replaced with a deep sense of confusion because they are somehow not on the same page about this.
What the hell is she talking about?
"Rob, what do you mean break up?" he asks, feeling off-balance.
"I mean, you and Eddie have been together for years nowso I'm not sure what you're talking about." She looks in his eyes and then lights up. "Oh, are you trying to tell me you're exclusive now? That's exciting!"
Steve just stares at her for a minute, memories of the weird things his friends say to him and Eddie and the weird things that happen coming rushing to the surface. The weird conversations he's had with Robin over the years, feeling like they were talking about two different things. The first vacation where they shared a bed together even though there was a room with two beds, and how it happened again the next time they all went on vacation together. Dustin letting Eddie sit in the front seat of his car. The one, singular wedding invitation.
He's not even sure how to broach the fact that his friends all apparently thought he and Eddie have been together for years, but he says, "Eddie and I weren't dating before now. We literally just got together. We, like, literally just had our first kiss less than fifteen minutes ago."
"That's not funny, Steve. You guys have been in each other's pockets for closing in on five years now," Robin says, coming to sit on a bar stool at the kitchen island. "You, you live together and have a cat together."
He can see her mentally going through all the things she thought about them as he comes to sit next to her.
He gently says, "We weren't together before. We were only friends before today. I'm not sure what we did to make you think that we were together, but you know I'd talk to you about anyone I was dating, even Eddie."
"It's not just me!" Robin says, looking at him again with a piercing stare. "It's everyone! We all know. Or we thought you were together. I'm so confused. How is it possible that you've never kissed before? Like, wait a minute."
She stops talking and puts her head in her hands.
"What are you doing?" he asks her when she doesn't say anything for a couple minutes.
She pinches the bridge of her nose as she says, "I'm trying to channel my memories. Because there has to be a time where I asked you point blank if you were seeing Eddie and you said yes."
"I can guarantee you won't find that memory. Because it doesn't exist. Because Eddie and I weren't dating. Until now," he says.
"You went to Max and Lucas' wedding together!" she says, looking at him triumphantly.
"Not really," he says. "We thought everyone just thought we were both terminally single or something and that's why they sat us together."
Robin smacks her hand against her forehead. "This makes no sense to me. Wait, I asked you if you were in an open relationship before! We talked about it at the club and again when you moved in together. How do you explain that?" she asks.
"That time at the club, I thought you were talking about him ditching me to hook up. It didn't bother me. That's literally all I said. Not that we were in an open rela- wait, you really thought I'd be in an open relationship with someone?"
"I know! It never made sense to me! You're like the most monogamous person I know," Robin says. "Okay, I get that we crossed wires there, but what about when you moved in together? I talked to you about it then too. You said you had rules about hooking up."
He can see how saying that might have been misleading. He says, "I meant like, rules about keeping it down, not about us dating and hooking up with other people." He feels a headache coming on.
Robin looks just as exasperated as he feels. She looks like she's grasping at straws when she says, "You're always together and you touch each other all the time. When I've seen you cook together, you're always bumping his hip or hand-feeding him extra ingredients."
"We live together, of course we found a groove cooking together." he says.
"A groove, okay," she says, rolling her eyes. "But even before then, you were always hanging out."
"Because he's my closest guy friend? Closest friend in general other than you," he says, still so unsure how he missed his entire friend group thinking they were together.
Steve doesn't know how this happened - how all his friends could have thought they were together when he didn't even know how he felt about Eddie until today. How could he have missed this?
But listen.
Steve has never claimed to be a smart man.
If anything, he thinks Eddie should have caught on long before he ever did, so he's holding strong that it's not his fault he didn't see the signs. If Eddie couldn't see them either, how the hell was Steve supposed to be able to?
"And now you're boyfriends," Robin says, pulling him out of his thoughts.
"And now we're boyfriends," he agrees.
She grins over at him and says, "That's the first time you've said the b-word. This is the first time we've talked about it and you said the b-word. You really weren't dating before now."
He shakes his head. "We really weren't. And I seriously can't believe you ever bought me saying we were in an open relationship. It's like you don't know me at all," he says with a sniff.
"No, I was extremely confused about it, but you were happier with him than anyone else I've ever seen you with, so it didn't matter what I thought, you know?"
Steve's face smooths out at that and his heart melts a little. He loves her so much.
He hugs her to his side and she playfully shoves him away.
"I can't believe I've had it wrong - we've all had it wrong - this whole time. The more I think about it, though, the more it makes sense that you weren't together. Like, I expected you to be talking about him all the time, but you never really gushed about him to me. At first, I thought it was because it was your first boyfriend, you know?" she says.
He nods. He can get that. What he can't get is- "You were okay with me not talking about him, sure. But you really think I wouldn't kiss a guy I was dating in front of you? Or hold his hand?"
Robin shrugs and runs a hand over her forehead like she's getting a headache from thinking about it. "I thought you were just shy at first. Again, the boy thing. And then it was just habit not to or maybe Eddie wasn't into PDA- I was just guessing. And, I, everyone thought it, so it's not just me. You guys literally adopted a cat together, how were we supposed to take that any other way?" she asks in an exasperated tone.
"She's Eddie's, technically."
"You're telling me Patricia's not your daughter?" Robin asks.
"No, she is. But Eddie's the one that found her, so I'm just her step-dad," he says.
Robin stands up from where she's seated and says, "See! You say shit like that all the time and expect us not to think you're dating him?"
He winces. "Yeah, I kind of see it now. Well, good news is that we are dating now and I'm gonna go home and fuck him about it."
Robin rolls her eyes. "Christ, I can't believe I ever thought you could be dating him and be anything other than like that about him."
"Oh Robbie, when we come up for air, you're gonna wish we weren't like that about each other. Apparently, we've got like five years of PDA to make up for," he says with a grin.
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aphroditeinthesea · 1 month
Note
heyyyy could you write jason x daughter of Poseidon. where the reader gets taken with percy to camp jupiter and when the argo two arrives jason and the reader slowly become flirty friends. but at a very unfortunate time they flirting turns too real.
“ sparks fly ”
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jason grace x daughter of poseidon ⚡️
i really don’t like how this turned out but i hope it’s okay that this is half hcs, half one shot-ish and tbh i didn’t wanna post this but also didn’t wanna like ignore this request
⋆ ˚。 𓆟 🌊 𓆞 ˚。 ⋆
- y/n was holding onto her brother’s arm as she tried to get through the crowd of people
- “is that…?”
- but her brother didn’t hear as his green eyes locked with grey ones
- but she heard reyna speak and her attention turned to someone else
- “jason grace, my former colleague”
- when she looked forward, she saw the most beautiful boy she had ever laid eyes on
- although she was soon distracted by her brother leaving her grasp
- she let go of his arm and let him run to his girlfriend
- as everyone watched the scene unfold, she turned to look back at the son of jupiter
- only to find blue eyes meeting hers
- she quickly looked away but couldn’t hide the pink on her cheeks
- when she got to know him, the way she felt only grew
- she found herself doing everything in her power to talk to him
- sitting next to him at meals or even acting like she needed help with something she could completely do herself
- “hey, jason, can you grab that for me?” she would ask, pointing to a high shelf
- “yeah of course,” he would always respond
- but she would watch as his shirt would slightly show his abs as he leaned up
- and percy would be standing behind her like🧍‍♂️
- but when a monster attacked the ship and was 2 seconds away from killing jason???
- y/n was there in a second, slicing that monster
- and jason was like “that was amazing for someone who can’t open a jar of pickles”
- and she was like “i know right”
- or when she came into his room late at night after having a nightmare
- “is it okay if i stay with you?” she whispered into the darkness
- “of course,” he was already awake so he scooted over to make room for her
- she quickly took the spot next to him and let herself burrow next to him
- “why didn’t you ask your brother?”
- she couldn’t think of an answer
- after all, there was her brother or annabeth, who she had known for far longer than the boy she laid next to
- she just sighed and finally spoke again
- “i knew you’d be awake”
- that wasn’t the last time she did that either
- every nightmare she had, she would find her way to his room where he welcomed her with open arms
- but when percy and annabeth fell into tartarus, the nightmares only worsened
- night after night, she would wake up in a sweat
- she got too embarrassed to keep bothering jason, which he took notice to
- one night he found her sitting in the mess hall, staring off into space
- “y/n?”
- she looked up at him and tried to force a smile
- “are you okay?”
- “why wouldn’t i be?”
- he took the seat next to her, “can’t sleep?”
- she shook her head, “i just know i’ll be waking up soon enough from a nightmare, so why even try?”
- he worriedly looked at her, but she wouldn’t even face him
- “you need to sleep, y/n,” he whispered
- she stayed silent
- “you can stay in my room, i really don’t mind”
- still silence
- “y/n?”
- “i don’t have a crush on you,” she suddenly spoke and looked up at him
- his eye widened, “what?”
- “i thought i had a crush on you, but i don’t, jase”
- he felt his heart heavy as he still stared at her
- “jason, i am so in love with you”
- he completely froze, his brain basically short circuiting
- kind of literally too as his hands slightly sparked when she spoke
- “i’m sorry, i had to tell you. there’s just so much going on right now, and trying to hide that was just one more thing i had to stress about”
- “no, y/n, it’s okay”
- “really?”
- “really.”
- she looked away, “i should get to bed anyways”
- she began walking away but he followed behind her, “wait”
- she turned around, waiting for the embarrassment to hit her
- but instead only a pair of lips did
- “i love you, too.”
- she didn’t say anything as she pulled him into another kiss
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koishiro · 7 months
Note
bakugo headcannons with a shy s/o? Just cute lil moments in their relationship. Completely fine if you don't want to write it! Have a good day/night! ❤️
# - 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐒/𝐎
=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒍 : this was so much fun to write!! Thank you so much for the request nonnie! ♡
masterlist | bnha masterlist
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Everyone always wonders how you both got together
Loud and (usually) angry Bakugo with a shy and quiet s/o? How’d that happen?
It was simply really,
You would’ve caught his attention by simply sitting in the corner of the classroom minding your own business
Everyone else in the classroom is loud and annoying while you’re just trying to get through the day unnoticed
He would start lightly picking on you like throwing paper airplanes at your head, poke your side or hold your books above your head so he can watch you struggle to reach them with a small grin on his face
He wouldn’t really understand that he’s developed a crush on you for a good while though…
At first you thought he was (kinda) bullying you but you’d notice the difference between him ‘picking’ on you over the others
He’d literally scream and threaten to blow them up if they don’t shut up but when it came to you he’d lower his voice and do simple things to grab your attention
He’d eventually calm down on the ‘picking’ and would actually start socialising with you
It would take Bakugo a few months to realise his feelings but when he does he’d be unusually nervous around you
You wrap your arms around him? He’s blushing. You ruffle his hair? He’s mixing up his words. You so much as brush an eyelash off his cheek and he’s having an internal melt down
It would get to the point of someone (more than likely Kirishima) who jokes that you two act like a couple when Bakugo’s answer would be, “might as well be”
But his official way of asking you out would be in the middle of a conversation:
Sitting in the far booth of the diner, you and Bakugo had spent hours talking as he picked at your fries when he leans across the table to wipe something from the corner of your lips. "Kats," you say in a small voice, "you cant do that, only couples do that!" He stares at you blankly before asking “do you want to?”. Your eyebrows knit together as you reply with confusion "want to what?". His response is simple yet nonetheless shocking as he leans back into his seat, arms crossed over his chest; “Date” you nearly spat your drink out at this, spluttering for a reply, “what? Well-uhm, I mean-us? I suppose so-” “then it’s sorted. We’re a couple”
Expect Kirishima’s response being “finally, ‘bout time you asked them out”
Bakugo was 👌 close to blowing him up
Everyone would be surprised at how quiet and calm he is when you’re around
He could be throwing a complete fit at any time, anywhere but when you walk in? He’d zip his mouth real fast
Mina once walked into class early only to find you both cuddled up in the back with your legs on his lap, while you both watched something on your phone
She took a sneaky photo and sent it to you. You didn’t even need to look back at Bakugo to know he was red in the face.
He’s also very protective of you
A lot of people presume you’re weak since you’re so quiet which results in you getting picked on quite often;
Name calling you in the halls, pencil’s thrown at you in class or just simply spreading rumours and/or gossip around school
But when your boyfriend finds out?
It’s safe to say they won’t be bothering you anymore, not while they sport a fresh cast at least.
Expect to be paired with Bakuko for practice every single time so he can specifically watch over you and make sure no one will injure you too badly.
If you don’t have class with Bakugo expect to find him waiting for you outside your classroom so he can walk you to your next class 😌
And you best know that he’s saving you a seat if you get to class late and will practically growl at anyone who comes close.
He’ll always deny that he likes the affection you show him but will (not so) discreetly give you things that remind him of you or will get that thing you wanted just so you can pepper his face in kisses.
And don’t bring up the fact that he keeps your hair ties and the lipgloss you forgot in his bag because he’ll deny that too <3
I can imagine you just minding your own business at your locker when he drags himself towards you and leans his head on top of yours just cause 🤷🏻‍♀️
Bakugo would just be an all-round perfect bf 😩
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— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰
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geeky-politics-46 · 7 months
Text
Kinktober 2023 - Day 6
Sex Tape with Doctor Stephen Strange
"A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words"
Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!
Summary: You are feeling self-concious & down on your appearance, but Stephen has an unconventional idea of how to make you realize how sexy & beautiful you really are.
Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - body image issues, voyeurism & exhibitionism via photo & video, dirty talk, swearing, pet names, oral sex, creampie, vaginal sex, slight daddy kink, a bit of fluff & a little angst.
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You weren't even sure what had triggered your self-image issues at the moment. Honest to God, you were just sitting in bed watching a YouTube video, pursuing the sidebar recommended videos when you started comparing yourself to other people.
It didn't matter if it was just a random ad or a promo for a TV show. You started sizing yourself up to all the actresses, models, and even some normal people. No matter who it was, you felt you couldn't compare.
Your stomach was too big. Your butt was too small. You were too short. Too plain looking. Hell, sometimes you weren't even sure how you compared to average. You didn't think you were hideous, but you forever felt like the ugly duckling. Like the potential to be beautiful was there. It just never blossomed. Or, like you sabotaged being pretty by not having enough restraint to eat better or lose weight. 
For once in your life, you wanted to be the bombshell. You were too weird to be the girl next door. You always fell into the quirky/cute and funny category. People fell for you once they got to know your personality, but you knew that never once had you stopped a guy dead in his tracks across the room. 
In an effort to make yourself feel smaller, you dug around for your massive old sweatshirt. The one you wore whenever you were feeling sad. The material had piled up in places, and it was starting to get holes in others, but the super stretchy material still felt just as big and cozy as if it was brand new. The dark eggplant purple color was also somehow soothing compared to the mostly blacks and grays of your daily wardrobe.
You had settled back in, deep in your own thoughts, when your partner entered the bedroom. You had been with Doctor Stephen Strange for a while now. Long enough that you had more or less informally moved into the Sanctum. You got to spend more time with Stephen and didn't have to pay rent. It was a win-win. The only downside was that you couldn't hide from him when your inner demons reared up. 
You didn't even realize he had been talking to you as he changed out of his sorcerer's robes and into his sweats for bed. It wasn't until he sat down in front of you and lifted your chin up to look directly at him that you realized you weren't paying any attention to a thing he was saying. 
"What's wrong, sweetie?"
You hated the genuine concern on his face. He spent his days literally saving the universe, and here you were trapped inside your own spiraling thoughts. 
"Nothing is wrong."
You said it while staring down at your hands. You were never good at hiding things from Stephen when you were face to face.
"Even if I wasn't a brilliant doctor, MD, and PhD, I know that's your 'I'm sad' sweatshirt. So something is definitely wrong." 
You closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to jiggle loose the thoughts that were waying you down. Not wanting to waste Stephen's time with your shallow worries. Yeah, he was your boyfriend, but he had plenty more vastly important things to do than talk you off a self-image cliff.
"It's stupid, Stephen."
"Don't care. You've listened to me say stupid stuff plenty of times. This just makes us one closer to even."
You rolled your eyes at him, and you knew he wasn't about to give up. Stephen was the most stubborn person you had ever met. In fact, his stubbornness was part of why he pursued you for so long before you finally agreed to go out with him. If he was set on finding out what was bothering you, nothing would stop him until you told him.
So after another moment of trying to get him off the topic, you finally relented and told him what had you feeling down. Shrinking down farther into your sweatshirt as you spoke, fumbling for the right words. Letting the cozy fabric serve as its own kind of armor.
"I don't even know what got me thinking it, but I'm just feeling down on myself. That there just isn't anything about me physically that is special. I don't think I'm ugly, I just don't get why you bothered to even give me a second glance. Let alone what keeps you interested. You are the great Doctor Strange. You are so hot, Stephen, and I'm just me. I'm just plain. I'm chubby with stretch marks. You are gorgeous. You could literally be with the most beautiful women in the world."
You could see him almost flinch when you called yourself plain and that you doubted how enamored he was with you. Even if he knew it was only a passing thought, he never wanted you to question his love for you. Ever.
When it took a few moments for him to say anything in response, you immediately started to take it all back. Not wanting to drag him down into your funk with you.
"See, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm just having a bad night and -" 
Stephen cut you off with a passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that could make you forget your own name. Cupping your face in both of his hands before pulling away from your lips to place several more small kisses on your forehead and in your hairline. Gradually adjusting so he could pull you closer and wrap his arms tighter around you.
"First of all, I love you so much you don't even know. So don't think for one second I would rather be with anyone else. Second of all, I know that you don't necessarily see what I see when you look in the mirror, and you don't even have to believe me, but you are gorgeous. Do you not see that half the other guys practically trail you around like puppies? Rogers turns bright red when you smile at him, and it's a wonder Barnes and Wilson haven't followed you home like strays yet."
That made you laugh. You did know Steve had harbored a crush on you before you started dating Stephen. Tony had let that spill one night after a party. Both Sam and Bucky were such flirts all the time with everyone. Of course, they always acted sweet on you. You assumed it was just them or their way of being nice. You would have to pay better attention next time you saw them, though. Just to see. 
"If one of them does follow me home, can I keep him?" 
You squinted your eyes and pouted your lips at Stephen. You loved giving him a hard time, and he loved giving you one right back.
"Absolutely not. Even if they scratch and howl at the door all night long. I'm the only one who gets to keep strays, and that only applies to America. On a good day, maybe Parker."
You giggled and shook your head in agreement. America was definitely a great addition to your little family. It did lift your spirits a little thinking about all of that, but it still didn't leave you feeling better about yourself. 
Stephen could see the way you were picking at the skin on your hands. Like you were trying to pick away the self-consciousness or what you felt were imperfections. It was a habit he noticed you fell into when you were extra hard on yourself. So, in an effort to distract you and stop you from picking at your skin, he took one of your hands in both of his.
"Do you remember the day you held my hand the first time? Do you have any idea how terrified I was? I was terrified that you were suddenly going to realize how broken and ugly my hands are. How damaged I am, and realize just how below your own league you were dating. Still are, by the way, so maybe I shouldn't say anything. You are the sexiest most beautiful woman I have ever met, inside and out. Every inch of you is incredible and perfect to me. I thought that before you even said a word to me, and getting to know you, and falling in love with you has only made me more sure. There is no one in this universe I could ever find sexier or more special."
"Tell you what, I have an idea..." 
Stephen stood up from the bed, moving over to shut the bedroom door. Throwing the lock, too. Now that you had a teenager running about the Sanctum, it was better safe than sorry. Then, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Setting it on airplane mode as he walked back over to you.
"How about I show you what I see? Give you some actual physical proof of how beautiful you are? A picture is worth a thousand words. I imagine some more revealing, naughty photos would be worth even more."
You chuffed at him and raised a questioning brow at his suggestion. 
"Stephen, are you seriously suggesting that I let you take naked photos of me as a way of making me feel better about myself? Are you sure that isn't just gonna make you feel better?" 
His signature cheeky grin was plastered on his face, and his bright blue eyes were twinkling with mischief.
"Can't it do both? Besides, you know I've asked before for something I can enjoy when I can't have you with me, and I think you look perfect right now. Already in our bed. Already cozy and dressed for bed. Few layers to take off. This is the you I want to see when I'm not here with you."
He came over to where you were still sitting on the bed. An extra swagger in his step and a grin because of the blush you were now sporting. He started to pull teasingly at the hem of your sweatshirt with the hand he didn't have his phone in.
"Come on, take this off. I want you to see how sexy you are. I promise I will let you delete them if you want, although I certainly wouldn't mind keeping a couple for myself, but I want you to see how you look when it's just you and me. Right here, in this bed. The version of you that only I get to see, at least I do hope it's only me. A woman who puts all those supermodels and Playmates to shame. Even first thing in the morning. A goddess if one ever existed, even with bedhead and morning breath." 
Layer by layer, you let Stephen slowly strip off your clothes and arrange you on the bed. His fingers and lips adoring every new inch of skin that he exposed before proceeding to take picture after picture. Lovingly caressing every spot you deemed less than perfect. Letting him talk you through pose after pose. Some were simple and basic, normal poses. Some a bit more sultry with little left to imagine. The less clothing remained, the more bold he got with your poses. 
As your impromptu photoshoot went on, he also tried to distract you from feeling self-conscious about your body coming into view. Sometimes, by making you laugh. Sometimes, by getting a goofy look on his face as he just kind of stared at you. Almost awestruck. 
"You really have no idea how much I fantasize about you, do you? How much of my day I spend trying not to think about you? How when we first started dating, I felt like a teenager trying to control his raging hormones because all I could think of was this. What it would be like if I got the privilege to get this beautiful, incredible woman naked in my bed. That I swore if I got you here, I would never let you leave. I hate that someone ever made you feel like you are anything less than gorgeous, whether in your ratty sad sweatshirt or all dressed up. Although, this, no clothes at all, is definitely my personal favorite."
You tried not to tear up at his genuine sweetness. You could feel your cheeks blushing at his statement, too. You buried your face into the pillow you were holding before softly turning and peeking out at him from the side. Only to find him waiting for the moment you locked eyes with him to take a photo. 
In a sudden burst of confidence, you bit your bottom lip and rolled onto your back. Letting the entirety of your body be on display. Laying back and resting your head on the pillow and stretching your arms up overhead, your legs spreading on their own. You closed your eyes and arched your back as you inhaled deeply. Like you were a cat basking in the warmth of the sun. 
Your mind was completely clear of all thought until you heard a stuttered breath from your lover. It was a sound you had never heard Stephen make before. It sounded like he was looking at a priceless piece of art or one of the seven wonders. He sounded like he was in awe. Like he was in awe at the sight of your body and your beauty.
You were about to dismiss his, what you were sure had to be, over embellished praise, but then you opened your eyes. You were rendered speechless by the look of utter wonder on his face as he let his cerulean blue eyes wash over every inch of you. For possibly the first time, you saw him really seeing you, and it melted any remaining self-doubt you had in that moment.
You immediately reached out to pull Stephen to you. Wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly. Rubbing your nose against his and whispering loving thanks against his lips.
"Thank you, Stephen. I love you, and even though I don't necessarily see what you see, you always make me feel beautiful. Why don't we take a few pictures together, or maybe a video or two? Maybe I want something for when you aren't here too." 
Stephen's eyes darkened at the suggestion. You had your suspicion that Stephen had a bit of an exhibition kink. You had sent each other pics before, a short video clip or two, and sexted all the time. You knew the idea of filming the two of you fucking would intrigue him. A wicked smile found it's way to his face. 
"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea how many times I've thought of you asking that or that I've thought of asking. Are you really okay with filming us fucking? Of course it's just for the two of us. Sorcerer's honor. " 
Stephen started trying to fiddle with the phone, trying to figure out the best way to set it up to film the two of you. Finding it hard to concentrate after you started leaving kisses on his neck. Stopping to bite and suck at the spot just below his earlobe before continuing to whisper his darkest desires in his ear.
"Well, Stephen, actually the idea does get me a little hot. Maybe if the video turns out really good, a few seconds or minutes can get leaked to a naughty site or two. Anonymously, of course. I don't want to share you with any other woman, but I wouldn't mind showing off all the ways I worship you. Let everyone see how lucky I am. Maybe get some outside opinions of how we look together." 
Stephen's eyes practically rolled back in his head at the thought. He never would suggest it himself, but he kind of loved the sound of that. Of the world getting to see how good the two of you looked together. Of seeing how well you both fit together. How your bodies were made for each other.
He scrambled off the bed using the pile of books on the dresser to create a tripod to set up the phone. Hitting record and making sure the bed was centered in the frame before coming back to join you in the sheets again. He used his magic to strip himself of his clothes. If you two were going to make a sex tape, he was gonna put some extra showmanship in it.
You couldn't help but giggle as you reach your arms out towards him. Stepben didn't waste a minute before he started crawling up your body. Teasing and nipping at your bare skin and making sure to snuggle and rub his goatee against you. Your hands immediately grabbed in his dark brown hair, loving how soft and full it felt in your fingers. 
As your lips connected, you both groaned in pleasure. Your bodies grinding and rubbing. Letting your hands roam all over Stephen's body now that you had plenty of him to touch. You could feel Stephen's cock already erect between you. Truth be told, taking those photos of you had essentially acted as foreplay for him. He was ready to go by the time he was setting up the camera. 
You moaned when you felt his hard shaft slide against the crease of your hip, so close to your sex that was starting to ache for him. Your legs reflexively spread even more on the large bed, and your nails scraped down Stephen's sides. 
"Is there something you want, baby? Tell Daddy what you need."
A sly smile on his face as he spoke. Loud enough to make sure the camera heard. Descending back on you and starting to kiss your neck. Sucking a patch or skin into his mouth hard enough to ensure you would bear a mark the next day.
Your brain finally coming back into focus when he playfully bit the same sensitive spot. His bright blue eyes met yours, and he gave you a cheeky wink. 
"Come on, pretty baby. Don't get all shy on me now. Not after you let me take all those naughty pictures of you. Plus, this part was your idea, after all. So you better speak up."
A soft groan pulled from your throat as you arched your back and ran your hands up his strong arms. Letting your fingernails scrape along his shoulders. Leaving little red scratches marking him as yours. 
"Want you, Stephen. Want you to fuck me. Pretty please, Stephen. Fuck me like only you can, baby."
He rewarded you with a deep kiss, letting his teeth nip at your bottom lip before he started working his way down your neck. Stopping to whisper a "that's my good girl" in your ear before continuing down to your collarbones. Raising his voice once again so it would be audible on the video when he started speaking again.
"You know you are the only one I want to fuck right? This is the only body that gets me this fucking hard. Your's is the only pretty little pussy I dream about filling up every chance I get. Want you full of my cum all the time. Want everyone to know you're mine." 
You felt over the moon as Stephen started to kiss his way down your body. Stopping and spending a little bit of extra attention every time he hit a spot that elicited a gasp or moan. Making you arch your back to give him access to every inch of bare skin you could.
He momentarily popped back up to kiss your lips. Suddenly taking your hand in his and lowering it so you were cupping his hard length. Letting his hips rut forward as you started to eagerly massage his hard cock. Already moving to sit up, anticipating taking him in your mouth, only for him to push you back down on the bed.
"Nope, I'm not done with you, baby, lay back. Just wanted you to feel how hard you got me. Feel how much taking those naughty photos of you turned me on? And they are all mine to enjoy, just like my cock is all yours to enjoy."
With that, he promptly began working his way back down your body. Coming to rest between your thighs, pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Leaving small nips on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh and rubbing his facial hair against your skin to tease you.
A soft "Stephen, please!" escaped from your lips as you impatiently waited for his lips and tongue to work their magic on you. Feeling your hips thrust on their own when you felt him blow against your wet cunt. Making your sex flutter and clench. One of his favorite sights. 
"Make sure you don't hold back any of those pretty noises darling, want to make sure everyone can hear. Look at the camera as I eat you out, baby." 
You followed his instructions and let your head turn to the side. Keeping your eyes open as you stared into the lens. Trying to fight the inkling of self-consciousness tugging at the back of your mind. 
Those thoughts vanished completely the moment you felt Stephen's warm tongue make its first pass through your folds. All you could focus on was the feeling of his mouth on you. The scratch of his goatee against your most sensitive spots. He was taking his time. Lavishing your cunt with long licks and sucking kisses.
Stephen was a perfectionist, and that translated into every aspect of his life. Including sex. His photographic memory helping to make sure he knew exactly what way to lick and suck at your pussy to bring you to climax in record time. Only using his fingers on occasion. He could get you there with his mouth alone. Tonight was clearly going to be one of those nights.
Your back arched as he suckled on your clit. Keeping your gaze locked on the camera lens. Making sure to give Stephen the sights and sounds he wanted for your video. A long moan falling when you felt his tongue thrusting in and out of you. Hitching your legs up higher and farther apart so he could go deeper while letting your hips start to rut against his face.
As soon as he could feel you getting close to orgasm, Stephen pulled away and pounced on you once again. Wasting no time before he started to slowly thrust his hard cock into you. His lips biting at your neck.
He growled when you whimpered at the feeling of his cock bottoming out inside you. Holding perfectly still and letting you start to squirm beneath him. Wanting you to beg him to move. 
"Tell me what you want. Want you to say it again. Say it to the camera, sweetheart. Tell them why you're whimpering."
Your face now contorted into a pout as you tried so hard to get any sort of friction. Stephen's hips pushed flush to yours, holding you firmly in place.
"Want you to fuck me, Stephen. Need you to fuck me hard. Make me feel good, daddy. Please make me cum. Please."
He smiled and kissed you deeply. Bringing his hands to cup your face and giving you another moment of sweet intimacy before he gave you what you wanted. Pulling away and pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Scooting you just a little so the camera would be able to see his cock stretching and filling you. Once he had you right where he wanted you he began thrusting. 
"You asked for it, sweetheart. You turn me on so fucking much. This is just gonna be the first time I make you cum tonight. I'm not gonna stop until you feel like a goddess. My goddess." 
You reached up to intertwine you fingers with his as he started fucking you harder. Leaning forward so your ass was slightly lifted up off of the bed and his tip was pummeling that sweet spongy spot on your front wall. Making you clench around him each time he hit it. Your voice coming out in little squeaks and the sound of skin slapping punctuating Stephen's movements. 
You could already feel your orgasm building when Stephen moved to bring one hand down to begin rubbing at your clit. Pulling his cock out long enough to smear some of your wetness on the swollen bundle of nerves. Your cunt immediately clenching around him as he started tracing small circles there with his thumb. 
"That's it, my love. Can feel you getting close. You better cum soon because I'm not gonna be able to hold on much longer. Wanna fill you up every day. Mark you as mine. Inside and out. Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum."
Stephen's own dirty talk getting the best of him. His head dropping down to watch his cock slamming in and out of your drenched cunt. Your pussy gripping tight around him sending him over the edge. His thrusts getting faster and his fingers on your clit mirroring his hips.
He let out a deep groan as he started cumming inside you. The feeling of his warm thick cum filling you triggering your own orgasm. Your cunt drenching his cock and his cum filling you completely. Your moans mingling in harmony with Stephen's. Your hands that were still clasped gripping each other tighter. 
Stephen's body falling onto yours and your lips meeting for slow, sweet kisses as your highs continued to ebb and flow. The sensations slowly fading as you came back down together. The feeling of Stephen's weight on top of you lulling you closer to sleep. All worries and neuroses disappearing and receding back into the depths of your mind. 
You were with Stephen, and Stephen loved you exactly as you were. He only had eyes for you, and he would love you no matter what. Even on days when you couldn't see your beauty, you knew he would help you to see it. Even when you didn't love yourself, he would give you enough love for both of you.
Eventually, Stephen rolled to the side and pulled you with him. Settling you under the covers and holding you close. Pressing kisses all over your face as you floated in the twilight space between waking and sleep. Not moving or pulling away until your breath settled into a steady rhythm that told him you were close to sleep.
Then Stephen stood up and went over to the phone. Stopping the recording and bringing the phone back over to the bed. Setting it down on his nightstand and purposely not setting his usual morning alarm. He wanted to sleep in with you tomorrow. He would deal with Wong later.
You were too exhausted to review the products of your photoshoot right now, but the next time you were feeling down or self-conscious, Stephen would be ready to show you just how beautiful you really were. If you still didn't believe him, maybe he would bring up the idea of an outside opinion like you suggested. You would have the world drooling over you, and he would get to gloat that you were all his.
--------------------------------
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johns-prince · 4 months
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John was being honest when he described himself as dead lazy, and so having a partner and bff like Paul was perfect for him since Paul is such a workaholic and can hardly sit still.
John needed a push, someone who could carefully and patiently nudge and drive him along, or at least light the fire under his butt, because if not he could become listless, lethargic, and stuck. I'd say this was pretty obvious during the 70s.
Paul was perfectly suited for John in this, like in so many other ways too. Paul seemed not at all bothered, but quite comfortable with this position in their relationship, as far as I can tell. I'm thinking back to Paul making his way to John's house in Kenwood, that he'd often have to wake John up, this involving cups of tea or coffee. Maybe they did some writing and playing, maybe they didn't, as Paul said it was his way to get out of London.
Or, how Paul, John, and Ringo (sans George) had to do a Christmas recording, and how Paul, the whole time, was gently and patiently urging John on to just do it.
I think they're a perfect encapsulation of their relationship, these moments and memories caught.
They both gave each other a harmless need to compete, and to accomplish, together. I mean I'm sure there were plenty of times Paul's patience wore thin with John, and I'm sure John was very intentional in needling that, but insofar that I can tell, Paul really did have exceedingly, almost near limitless patience and love for John as both a partner and a friend.
John needed that, he needed someone like Paul, who could truly and unapologetically put up with him, and love him, and still want to work with him every day, day and night.
Even when the band broke up, the divorce finalized, and John was both loving and hating Paul in tandem for the next ten years... Paul was desperate to write with John again, and John was desperate just to write, you see.
PLAYBOY: But wasn’t it clear that John wanted only to work with Yoko?
LINDA: No. I know that Paul was desperate to write with John again. And I know John was desperate to write … desperate. People thought, Well, he’s taking care of Sean, he’s a house-husband and all that, but he wasn’t happy. He couldn’t write and it drove him crazy. And Paul could have helped him—easily.”
— Linda on John and Paul in the late 70’s and 1980. (X)
While Yoko was definitely driven and career oriented, that didn't necessarily mean she influenced, inspired, or drove John on herself. Not in the way Paul did. I think that's pretty evident, considering he subsumed himself to "house husband", only occasionally baking bread before even that lost his interest, in which he'd keep to lazing about, sleeping hours on end, and mindlessly watching tv.
John was no house husband, the role he took with Yoko was pretty far removed from his potential, even with Cynthia it wasn't that bad.
With Paul, John even thought of writing musicals, and he apparently wasn't even that fond of musicals—but if Paul wanted to do it, like so many other things, then why couldn't John? If John had Paul, then he could do just about anything and everything, really.
“MM: In the early days, did John and Paul really write together?
MARTIN: Yes, but they also wrote separately. “Please Please Me” and “From Me To You” and “I Want To Hold Your Hand” were undoubtedly collaborative efforts. They’d sit down and literally construct the songs together. I can’t remember the first individual songs, although obviously even before I met them they were writing individually, but if you go through them you can hear which of them are John-oriented and which are Paul-oriented. “Yesterday” is obviously Paul, and that’s an interesting point because it was the first time we ever used anyone other than Beatles on a record. There was no one on that record but Paul and a string quartet.
MM: Did you notice them growing apart, developing distinct personalities?
MARTIN: Paul and John had their own identifiable styles: Paul was the syrupy one and John was the hard one. But the rift wasn’t there then. They were really a unit.
MM: Could you tell me what you think of what each one has done individually since the last Beatles record?
MARTIN: I have great admiration for George. He’s done tremendously because it’s a sort of devotion to duty as far as he’s concerned. We forced him into being a loner, I guess … he could never collaborate with anybody in his writing and therefore when the split came he had more strength because he was forced to be alone. He learned an awful lot about producing, studio techniques, and so on, so that he was able … obviously, any one of them had the power - because they had the money - to spend as much time in the recording studio as they liked, and I know that when George made his album he spent six months doing nothing but overdubbing his own voice 16 times and producing his album. To have the tenacity to do that in itself is something of an achievement, but to go along and actually produce good sounds and good music and good lyrics with it is tremendous. I’m full of admiration for that.
I think the other two have suffered by comparison, because they’ve each indulged themselves in their own way. John’s become more obvious in a way … “Power To The People” is a rehash of “Give Peace A Chance,” and it isn’t really very good. It doesn’t have the intensity that John’s capable of. Paul, similarly with his first album … it was nice enough, but very much a home-made affair, and very much a little family affair. I don’t think he ever really rated it as being as important as the stuff he’d done before.
I don’t think Linda is a substitute for John Lennon, any more than Yoko is a substitute for Paul McCartney.”
— George Martin, Melody Maker Interview, 1971. (X)
John was very partner orientated. He needed someone, whether he liked it or not, and he needed them to need him too.
He didn't like being a husband, but he liked having a wife, someone there for him constantly, who loves him and will care for him. John had Cynthia for that, at the start. John had Pete as his partner in crime, bestest of mates, when they were just kids.
Then, John had Paul, and turns out, Paul just about covered all of that, too, and plus it. A best friend, a coconspirator, a wife, a collaborator, his partner, his rival and his greatest ally and muse. Cherry on top, Paul needed John just as badly, madly. Maybe John never saw it that way, maybe that was why he had his fear, his insecurity that Paul never really needed him as much as John needed him.
“IRVIN: Back then people were very keen on knowing who the leader of the group was…
GEORGE M.: Yes, I was. When I first auditioned them I said, “Who’s going to be the leader, is it John or Paul?” Such an odd couple really, because they were diferent and yet very similar, both had big egos, both very good songwriters, but they needed each other like mad.
IRVIN: Did they really like each other? It wasn’t just a competitive partnership.
GEORGE M.: Oh no, they loved each other! They were brothers, and like brothers they pissed each other off quite a lot. John could be maddening at times, Paul can be very bossy and even more maddening and George would get fed up with both of them. But they did love each other and adored what the other did and had an incredible bond.
Paul always took inspiration from John, especially in his lyric-writing. ‘Eleanor Rigby’, for example, wouldn’t have happened without John’s influence. Paul wrote all of it but John’s influence was there and similarly John was knocked out by the freshness Paul brought to melodies and harmonies. He learnt from Paul how to put in the odd chord that choked you up a bit.”
— George Martin, interview w/ Jim Irvin for Mojo: Sir George Martin: The Mojo interview. (March, 2007) (X)
I think I've gone off tangent, but the point of this was to say, John was dead lazy, vastly intelligent and talented, but very prone to sloth. Paul was a rather perfect stopper to that. He could whip John up, get him moving, shaking, ever patient and ever loving, just the right enough of mean, bitchy and stubborn, smart and quick tongued, to meet John toe-to-toe. Like a house on fire these two fired each other up, talk about all-consuming and intense.
They were pretty perfectly matched for each other.
“It was like a tug of war. Imagine two people pulling on a rope, smiling at each other and pulling all the time with all their might. The tension between the two of them made for the bond.”
— George Martin on Lennon/McCartney (X)
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avocado-writing · 8 months
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Poly aziracrow based on 2x04, where Crowley and R react to Aziraphale during this scene👀
https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM2KFemoQ/
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notes: yes. this isn’t the first time I’ve had a request about his voice in this scene. and I will NEVER get tired of them ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
pairing: aziraphale x reader x crowley
rating: M (smut at the end)
tags: the light, the dark, and the space in between-verse; references to ptsd; slightly Dom!Aziraphale
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You hate this bloody war. 
You’ve been part of a few, and all of them have left their scars on you. In you, buried in your soul. You remember your time in those trenches barely thirty years ago and bile claws at your throat. 
No. Don’t think about that. Concentrate on this. Concentrate on this horrid little demon who’s threatening the two people you love. Hands behind you, you finger a decorative paperweight, wondering if minions from hell are susceptible to being thwacked over the back of the head. 
He finishes his little tirade and tries to read Aziraphale’s name from a book (you’re amazed that the cretin is literate). But his demonic lips can’t make heads nor tails of the syllables. 
“Azil-pha-pha-la-luh—”
Aziraphale’s brow furrows just slightly, lips purse.
“Aziraphale.”
It’s not often you see your angel reach the end of his tether. He is a holy being after all; the pinnacle of patience, epitome of virtue. But sometimes, when something grinds his gears just right, that voice will come out. 
It does something to you and Crowley both, and the two of you exchange a glance across the room. This will be explored later. 
The demon, irritated, snaps his little book shut, then does a double take as his gaze passes over you. He didn’t even notice you were here. You try to look the picture of innocence as you ready the paperweight, thinking about the best way to swing a bludgeoning weapon when he has that ridiculous hair. 
“And you? What’s going on with you, why are you here?” He steps forward and takes a deep sniff. “You don’t smell divine.”
“Oh god, don’t bloody smell me!” you hiss, planting your hand on his chest and shoving him backwards. Aziraphale and Crowley move towards you to intervene if needed, but you wave them off. 
“Don’t bother with him, nightingale,” Crowley sighs, voice unbothered and bored, “he’s not worth your effort.”
You turn to the mirror in the dressing room instead and focus on smoothing out your clothes, ignoring the foul little gremlin until Crowley and Aziraphale sort him out. Which they do, inevitably, because they’re very clever and wonderful. The three of you head back to the bookshop for a very necessary glass of wine, and within the hour you’re all piled on the sofa, slightly blotted and very glad for each other’s company after a rough day. 
You and Crowley are either side of Aziraphale, each with a leg hooked over one of his plush thighs. You’re doing that thing they love where you compliment them about how smart they both are, and they get all smug and silly (and you love it); but halfway through you catch Crowley’s eye behind those dark little glasses and something shifts subtly. 
“You know, angel, you really gave that lapdog a dressing down earlier.”
“Oh, well, I’m not sure I’d go that far,” Aziraphale says, but he’s all puffed up like he gets when he’s flattered. Crowley runs a finger up the seam of his trouser leg, gently, slowly. 
“And you know what really sealed the deal? That voice you used on him,” you continue. “There was something quite dominant about it. Sexy.”
You snake your hand up his chest. Finally he cottons on. 
“Oh.”
“I think we both just wondered what it might take to get you to use it again.”
Aziraphale takes a final sip of his wine before carefully placing the glass on the table. He sits back, looking between the two of you, and there’s no missing the glint in his eye. 
“If you wanted me to tell you what to do,” he says lowly,
and you shiver, “you need only ask. I’m sure I’ll do it if you both behave.”
Crowley shifts. You can see the effect Aziraphale’s had on him: the tightening of his trousers, the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows. 
“So. Will you behave?”
“Yes,” you and Crowley both whisper at once, voices thin and needy. 
Aziraphale smiles. 
“Then I think you’re both wearing far too many clothes.”
Your clothes end up a muddled pile on the floor, and between the two of you, Aziraphale doesn’t leave the couch for the rest of the evening. He has you ride his thigh while Crowley swallows him down his pretty little throat, whispering his praises to both of you in that delicious voice. 
“Look at you both. Being so good for me. I love you both so much, my darlings.”
You bury your face in his shoulder, face burning with desire. He has Crowley fuck you over the arm of the couch as he watches the show, palming himself through his trousers, telling you where to touch each other. You’re happy to be his puppet, his plaything, anything. 
So long as he keeps talking.  -
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phantomrose96 · 2 years
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The Lonely trying to enact its ritual only as a means of stopping The Extinction from enacting theirs is very funny to me because that's probably the only way you could even convince The Lonely to do their ritual.
The Fear rituals are all about unleashing their specific brand of chaos and torment on everyone else. But what the hell does The Lonely care about everyone else? The Lonely wants nothing to do with the 5 other people in line at the grocery store, let alone the world. Do you know how many more people they'd have to get involved with if they apocalypsed the entire world? The effort? The nuisance? Who would bother?
I like to imagine Peter Lukas has a little sheet of paper in his desk with a list of "pros" and "cons" for enacting the Lonely Ritual with the "cons" list just a mile long detailing every single distinct human interaction that would be required to end the world, and the "pros" list like "--will stop receiving phone calls about car extended warranty" "--cashier will stop asking if I want to donate $3 to Paws for Life charity" "--will not have to talk to Jonah Magnus anymore"
Like the only thing more annoying then enacting The Lonely ritual would be enduring the consequences of living in someone else's fear hell so the pro-vs-con balance finally tipped with the (apparent) advent of The Extinction and Peter got grumbling out of his chair to go answer Jonah's phone call.
Even funnier to me that Jonah had to hand Peter an Avatar of The Lonely because recruitment for The Lonely is probably hard as hell. Lightless Flame got to build a whole cult following for themselves but I bet the second Peter converts an Avatar to The Lonely they go "neat" and vanish off the grid to haul off to a cabin on 400 acres of uninhabited land in Montana with a "no soliciting" sign tacked on the front door.
Like Peter's just standing there watching his 14th Avatar convert hitch up a bindle and hop on the nearest passing boxcar to buttfuck-nowhere and Jonah comes along shoving Martin at him like "here, this one literally cannot leave. do whatever you want with it" and Peter was like "!"
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spdrvyn · 10 months
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a Miguel x f!reader "who did this to you?" Angst fic?
bewitched by bandages — MIGUEL O'HARA
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SUMMARY: as per usual, you were spending your late-nights fighting crime and trying to protect the city to the best of your ability. as you are in the midst of a strenuous battle, you're sucked into a portal which brings you to what you assume to be another dimension.
THIS FIC CONTAINS: violence. harassment. somewhat detailed descriptions of wounds. angst. hurt/comfort. translated spanish (i didn't use google translate). f!reader
NOTES: GOD I LOVE THIS TROPE SO MUCH HOLY SHIT thank you anon for sending me this ask i was gonna do this kind of thing w miguel eventually but like still mwah, sorry for being ia too btw... i'm trying to avoid getting burnt out n shit so that i keep writing stuff for you guys 🫶 anyway, ENJOOOY
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"You will never be apart of this."
Those were the last words uttered to you before proclaimed protector of the multiverse, Miguel O'Hara, disappeared into the portal possibly never to be seen again.
He thought so too. At least, until he came back a week later due to yet another anomaly showing up in your dimension. Then another, then another, then another.
Humiliating was an understatement. What kind of Spider-Woman were you if you couldn't even take down one anomaly? Every time trouble came, Miguel was there to fix it. For once, you wanted to be the one to catch the beast. Hold it's severed head up to him with a big, fat smile on your face.
But that was a distant dream, only to be seen after you collapse onto your bed after an exhausting day.
You felt even more hurt when you found out that he was the leader of some kind of Spider Society. Yet, as he said when he first met you, you just weren't capable enough to join it.
Granted, he explained that it was an elite strike force but still. You were proud of yourself for making it this far into the whole Spider-woman gig, turns out that the bar was higher than you thought it was. It saddened you, deeply.
Though with time comes change. You've honed your skills and now confident enough to laugh in the face of who you were months ago, if an anomaly ever showed up again you'd show Miguel who's boss (not literally) and finally be able to join that god forsaken society.
You were much more confident in battle, actually much more confident in general. It was like you were an entirely different person to the criminals that you cowered before at night and the other more important people in your life at day.
However, there were moments where that confidence faltered.
Moments where you felt like that terrified, shameful, and naive little spider that you were mere months ago. A moment like now as you were being absolutely destroyed by one of your regular enemies.
You didn't know his name, you didn't want to bother trying to know anyway. He was the type of villain to give those excruciatingly long monologues that only dragged more and more time out of your excruciatingly long nights. So you just called him tech guy.
He is exactly what he sounds like. Covered from almost head-to-toe with different kinds of technologically advanced weaponry that made you wonder if he'd work as an appliance in a smart home.
Even when you enjoyed poking fun at the multiple devices stuck to his body, he didn't. Continuing to upgrade himself more and more each time the both of you fought. You had a feeling in your gut that your devilishly charming personality would come back to bite you in the ass someday.
He had you under the heel of his boot, quite literally this time. You bite back a grunt as his shoe continues to press into you, barely being able to look back up, you can see the absolutely smug grin on his face.
"I warned you, Spider-Woman. If only you listened to me, you would've seen this coming from miles away!"
"I'm here to—" You want to bury your face into the pavement as you can feel something sharp pierce the small of your back. "Fight bad guys not listen to lectures!"
"And look at where not listening has gotten you, little spider." Tech guy chuckled, uncomfortably close to your ear. You try to pull away but he has you pinned and he's close, too close. You swore from the corner of your eye that he had his hand raised. About to strike.
This was it, he was going to knock you out. Take you back to who knows where. Or maybe even kill you right here and right now. Leaving your corpse on the street for the citizens of New York, the citizens that you swore you'd protect to be mortified by.
You were finished, your end had come. It terrified you, if people saw your fate, who would do this job? Who would be able to gain the courage to step up? Even after knowing the dangers that lurk and entail it?
Dangers such as a portal opening up on the floor beneath you, it was blinding as you squint and your senses are immediately flooded by what feels like everything.
It's like a strong gust of wind swoops you away, the distant yells of tech guy growing quieter and quieter.
This relieved you but pained you.
As you were being blissfully carried away from whatever force was helping you right now, it put a lot of pressure on the injuries that have sustained from that scuffle.
You tried to scream, yell, shout for anyone in this space but nothing. You curl up into a ball, in attempts for it stop and hope that your next destination is the sensation of nothingness.
It was like you were being torn apart then put back together. Shifting from each form. Solid, liquid, gas, solid, liquid, gas, solid liquid, gas, solid rooftop.
What?
You groaned, looking up at the night sky of whatever hell you just landed in. You tried to sit up and you were able to! But with a now bleeding lip in attempts to muffle the absolutely bloodcurdling scream that you were about to let out.
Wherever you were, it wasn't hell (thankfully) but it definitely wasn't New York. At least not your New York.
Everything was strangely futuristic. Flying cars, sleek architecture, a lot of grass to your surprise, and beautiful lights that finished the beautiful view off.
The rooftop that you had landed on was no different either, whoever owned this place had a spectacular taste in furniture and it showed here. As you looked to your side, it seemed that it also connected to a bedroom. An empty bedroom.
God, you were going to feel so guilty about this later.
Fighting back yet another pained noise from coming out of your mouth, you manage to build the strength to get up on your two feet and stumble towards the entrance.
You take your slow strides and get to observe the room in the process, it was very spacious. A huge monitor hanging on one wall, a huge closet on the other side, not to mention that it has a bathroom attached, what would it be without a huge bed in the middle of it all?
To your dismay, you're only able to make it a few steps in before needing to grip the bedsheets for dear life.
The dear life that you might lose when you hear the muted sounds of someone talking from outside.
You're not really able to make any words out but it sounded like whoever they were, they yelled out to someone. Suddenly, she appeared in front of you.
A lady, dressed in a somewhat lengthy but quite fashionable fur coat, she adorned a pair of heart shaped sunglasses as she looked at the TV in the room with a puzzled look on her face.
It's not long before she catches sight of you, eyes widening and both of you exchange glances. You bring your index finger to your mouth in a placating gesture but it only gets worse as she calls out:
"... Miguuueeeeel!"
Miguel? Miguel?
Frantically, you wave your hands around in an attempts to shush her but your heart rate spikes as her body practically phases through you. Hologram. You were throwing hands with a hologram.
And it's like the whole world stops when the bedroom door slides open, your worst fears had come true.
There he stood. Miguel O'Hara. Although something felt different, and you realized that his mask was off. The first thing that came to mind was the unamused pout that he wore, eyes that stared down at you disappointedly, and a broad frame that took up nearly the entire doorway.
The silence was deafening, you could hear it ringing in your ears. So deafening that you could hear your heart drumming in your chest, your shallow breaths, his footfalls as he walked over to you. Before turning his head to his hologram lady.
"Lyla, scan this." Lyla nodded before looking you up and down, wherever her eyes followed it scanned. She turns back to Miguel with the prognosis on your injuries. "Fifteen scratches, ten bruises, and a slightly fractured rib."
The noise that Miguel let out irked you a little, you could feel how heavy it was as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I have a lot of articles that could help with fixing this mess, big guy."
"No, it's fine. I can deal with this myself,"
"If you say so."
Lyla seemingly poofs into thin air, leaving you alone with him and a whole lot of questions that you have to ask. Even then, even if you were the one technically intruding in his home, you couldn't break the silence. Where to even start?
"Who did this to you?" Well, okay. That was a start. You tried to open your mouth to even get a small explanation out but as you attempted to piece your thoughts together, the more it felt like your brain fogged up.
Miguel had unfortunately noticed this too, what a way to make an impression after weeks of not seeing each other. "Just sit down." You obviously complied, careful not to let any blood drip down onto his sheets, you hoped that you wouldn't embarrass yourself further.
Those months of training, those months of self-improvement, those months of trying to be better all shattered within an instant as you saw Miguel rummage through his closet, cursing under his breath until he emerged with a first aid kit.
It felt so hard to think about anything and everything. Well, not really. There were a million thoughts racing through your head right now, most of them being what exactly was going through Miguel's head.
Was he disappointed? It would be a lot more unlikely if he wasn't if you were completely honest. Was he upset? If you saw someone you didn't hold in a high regard just magically appear on the roof of your home all beat up, you wouldn't be the happiest in the world.
There wasn't even a single peep out of him as he opened the small kit, equipping himself with what looked to be a medical cream and rolls of bandages. You spared him just a small glance, you were expecting him to look you dead in the eye with nothing but pure unbridled rage for ruining his night but instead?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
He was laser focused on treating you right now or what you had thought to be a more plausible situation: he was just too disheartened to even look at you.
And you completely understood why, therefore ripping your gaze away from his eyes and moving down to his hands instead. You watched intently as the part around his hands dissolved into mere pixels before he swiped up a good amount of the cream onto his fingers, then gestured for you to hold your arm out.
Once the medicine came into contact with your wounds, tears dared to prick at your eyes. Fuck, it hurt a lot but you didn't really need to ruin his impression of you any further. You resorted to biting down hard on your lip and turning your head away.
Miguel, being the ever observant one, noticed this as well.
"You owe me an explanation." He was right. You did. You were quite confident that if you stayed radio silent for the rest of the night, you would be sleeping on the cold, cold streets of this world. "I've surmised that you got sucked into a portal then ended up here but most don't end up with injuries this bad."
There goes a good chunk of your explanation, which played well on your end. You didn't even want to begin describing what being transported from dimension to dimension felt like. Still, you wanted to play this cool.
"I was just in a fight, it was nothing serious."
"Nothing serious? Did you hear the results of that scan?"
You can't help how your cheeks flush at his quip, perhaps you were playing it too cool. If you tried too hard, he'd probably be able to see right through you but before you could even attempt defending yourself, he butts in.
"Qué dolor de cabeza." You heard him mutter. "I need more details about this, how many people were in the fight? What were they like? I'm not a mind reader."
His tone was harsh, it felt like he was cutting your scars open rather than healing them. You semi-understood why he was a leader, he had a way of making demands that was for sure.
"It was just one guy, but he had a lot of mechanical attachments. Saws, tentacles, other blades." As you explained, Miguel finished up bandaging your arm and gestured for your other one. You shifted slightly in position and held that up as well, sucking in a sharp breath as he goes through the routine of applying the disinfectant.
He seemed to just hum at your answer like he wasn't relentlessly asking you questions moments ago, you assumed that he wanted to hear more information so you kept talking. Like an idiot.
"I'm not the biggest tech person, you know? I was just swinging through and then he ambushed me, every time I've encountered him, he just continued to get stronger and stronger."
"Every time? How many times exactly?"
He emphasized 'exactly' as if you were actually supposed to count but even if you presented those kinds of details with a whole ass statistic chart, the answer would still disappoint him.
"Probably more than five. Like I said, he upgrades and–"
"Yes, yes. You said that already." He interrupts you again, hurriedly finishing up your arm before he rolls up the bandages; throwing them back into the aid kit with a very audible thud.
If there was another talent of his, it would be how very quickly he's able to shatter your pride.
"What are you trying to do here?" He asks you. You know you shouldn't be asking questions at risk of making yourself look even more stupid but with how vague that was, it felt like you had the right to. "What are you talking about?"
"You're trying to impress me. I'm asking you this stuff to know more about the nature of your injuries and you're trying to goddamn impress me. Why?"
Oh.
Clearly, since it felt like he knew so much more about you, you just looked at him. How could this possibly get any worse after all? No matter what you said, no matter how hard you tried, it would all be for naught in the end.
"If this is about what I said when we first met, these antics of yours seriously aren't helping your case." Your body went numb. "Then, after I clear all the anomalies in your dimension, you come flying back to me. Seriously?"
Your mind went numb.
This felt like more than just a reality check to you, no. Every single criticism that shot back at you continued to break you down into smaller, smaller pieces.
You dreamt about meeting him again someday, and it did not look like this in the slightest. Only now, if you thought about what that scenario would be like, you'd conk yourself in the head for being so fucking delusional.
The distant dream of him entering your dimension, to see an anomaly in your capable hands, to hear that gravelly voice that has only continued to criticize you praise you for your deeds, then you'd get recruited into the Spider Society and save the multiverse to your heart's content.
Oh, how dumb and naïve you were. Clearly, you still are both of those things. His words spoke enough about that. You didn't want to be here as much as he did.
"I didn't want this," You finally said, the most coherent thought throughout this whole mess. "Any of this to happen. I just– I don't get it at all."
"Don't get what?"
"What I'm doing wrong," You sigh, lip quivering as tears dared to fall. This time, it wasn't because of medicine. You hoped it was. "I've trained for so long, I've tried my hardest. You might not think so but I have, I really have. But it seems like I'm making a mess of it all."
With each second that passed, the dam dared to break.
An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room, but this one scared you even more. A while ago, even if he didn't say a word, you knew how he felt about you. About your predicament.
But now? You had no clue. He could embrace you, comfort you, tell you that it's okay and he understood how you felt. You could've pushed his temper to his limits, he would scream, shout, yell, and kick you out of his penthouse.
"This doesn't have anything to do with your training," Like that, Miguel took a sharp pin to the atmosphere and popped it. "It has something to do with your mindset."
Now, you were the one to give him a confused glare. He sighs, eyes scanning over your sorry state once more,
"You did this, all this, to get into my strike force and to woo me whatnot." Before looking back up at you. Don't be mistaken, the harshness in his face is still there but from what he was saying, it didn't seem to be what you had originally thought.
"The reason why you're so stuck is because I shouldn't be the first goal in your mind, you should. Are you following?" You nod.
"Good. You need to understand, this job isn't about trying to meet a standard or getting someone to notice you. Self-improvement. It's all in the title. Self-improvement."
You shiver as his warm hand rests on your shoulder. "If you're already this hung up on trying to win me over, take a step back and think about who's approval matters more. Yours or mine?"
Yours.
It clicked. Everything fit into place and the dam broke, though that should have been more obvious to you when Miguel's face had started to look a little foggier.
At first, you had expected him to hand you a tissue or something but he didn't move from his place. Instead, resorting to rubbing his hand up and down your shoulder in a weird, seemingly unfitting gesture.
You swiftly wiped your tears away with your palm, stifling a sniffle as you ask yet another question.
"So, do you think I'll have a chance of getting in someday?"
A snarkly reply or scoff was what you had anticipated but what he just did was probably the most shocking turn of events looking back at the whole night.
He chuckled.
"I'll keep you in touch."
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