#somewhere I'd like to see this man arse up face down taking it from behind
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thefisherqueen · 11 months ago
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Seeing Jeremy Brett scrubbed clean and damp and wrapped in towels at the start of Granada's The illustrious client episode is doing something to me, and I can't for the life of me figure out what. This is the most frustrating part about being asexual. A certain intrigue is there and it does not feel entirely innocent, but it's like it's coming over a barely-there, distorted connection and leads nowhere
I just know that if Jeremy Brett would be alive and in my bedroom right now, looking exactly like he did there, I'd just offer him tea and cookies and tell him what an amazing actor he is. And then we'd talk about our Sherlock Holmes headcanons
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helloalycia · 4 years ago
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The Wrong Lifetime – Nine // Wanda Maximoff
chapter eight | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter ten
author’s note: a bit late with the update today, my bad. I’m just very exhausted lol. Hope you like it though! bit beefy, just how i like it 😂
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I should have realised Wanda would be a handful after literally grabbing my arse less than a metre away from her fiancé.
The final straw came when we were sat together at a table, talking to a guest who wanted to know more about the wedding plans. Y/B/N had left Wanda alone for the remainder of the evening for God knows what reason, so I was left to babysit her and make sure she didn't do anything stupid. Of course, drunk Wanda was also disobedient as well as truthful and clingy.
As the woman we were sat opposite was talking about her own wedding – the first of three, apparently – Wanda's hand kept playing with mine under the table. I shot her a serious look before slapping it away gently. That wasn't enough though, as several times after, she continued to play with my fingers and intertwine hers in mine.
Not wanting to draw attention, I pushed Wanda's hand under her thigh with hopes she'd keep it there and stop fussing. I didn't think she was even listening to the woman and the story of her wedding dress debacle, as she was leaning on the palm of her hand and watching with boredom.
At one point, just when I thought Wanda was finally behaving, I felt her hand rest on my thigh, creeping up dangerously higher. Clenching my jaw to contain both the arousal and frustration I was feeling, I flicked my foot against hers before stuffing her hand under her thigh again. Glancing at her, she was smiling innocently in my direction.
"I'm sorry, are you okay?" the woman stopped mid-talk, looking to Wanda.
Wanda straightened up in her seat, flashing the woman a bright smile. "Yes. But if I may ask–"
"Oh, no..." I mumbled, already internally facepalming.
"–don't you think my almost sister-in-law is very pretty?"
My head snapped to hers as I attempted to disguise my panic with a nervous smile. The woman looked between us, waiting patiently for Wanda to continue.
"Good looks runs in the family it seems," Wanda said, stretching her hand out to caress my cheek, but I immediately caught it before she could, chuckling awkwardly.
The woman found Wanda's behaviour funny as she nodded in agreement. "The Y/L/Ns are a very good looking family indeed. Especially your fiancé, dear. What a handsome man he is."
Wanda hummed in agreement, but her eyes were only focused on me. Under any other circumstances, I would have appreciated how cute she was and been touched at her words, but now wasn't that time.
"My lovely almost sister-in-law is particularly drunk tonight I'm afraid," I spoke truthfully to the woman, offering an apologetic smile. "I should make sure she's okay."
"Of course," the woman said, nodding. "It was nice speaking to you both."
I smiled in response for both of us before leading Wanda away from the table and to an emptier-looking part of the room. Spinning around, I gave her a disapproving look.
"You can't say that," I said quietly, shaking my head. "Not here. Not now."
She licked her lips, wearing an enchanting smile, unbothered by our surroundings. "I can't help it. I'm so in love with you and you look irresistible tonight, milaya (darling)."
I sighed, my neck growing warm as she watched me with adoration. "Okay, I think it's time to call it a night."
"No, I want to stay," she whined, but I ignored her and turned around to think about how we could leave.
Once again, I felt her hand squeeze my butt and when I turned around to scold her, I saw my brother over her shoulder, approaching us. I forced a smile on my lips and glanced at her with a glare. She grinned in response before joining my side and facing my brother with me.
"Hey, how are you?" he asked when he stopped by us.
"Good," I answered for us both, afraid Wanda would say something suspicious.
He nodded, smiling a little. "Thanks for keeping Wanda company tonight."
Using that as my opportunity, I said, "Yeah, about that. She's kind of drunk, so I think I'm going to take her home."
"Oh," he said with realisation. "I don't mind taking it from here."
I pursed my lips, desperately trying to think of a reason to stay with her. Thankfully, I didn't have to.
"How scandalous of you to want to me somewhere after hours with nobody else around," Wanda poked fun, attempting to make him feel uncomfortable. It worked.
"Oh, no– I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly, flushing at her insinuation. "Never mind." Looking to me, he added, "You should take her home and make sure she's okay. Maybe stay with her until her family gets home so you don't have to head home yourself."
I nodded, ignoring the proud smile on Wanda's lips. "Okay, see you later."
As I led Wanda outside the house and towards the carriages parked outside, I gave her a grateful look.
"Good thinking back there."
She chuckled. "He's so easy to manipulate."
"Not nice," I said, but couldn't stop the amused smile from playing on my lips.
The two of us got in the back of the carriage after I gave the driver her address and settled in. Wanda was quick to tilt my head towards her and connect our lips, but I pulled back quickly, making her frown.
"You've been very frustrating this evening," I said with a warning tone. "We get home and you get to bed. That's it."
"Well, that hardly seems fair," she said with a shake of her head. "I believe I behaved."
I tried not to laugh. "In what world, love?"
She smiled widely, eyes darting to my lips. "Some alternate universe."
"Smooth," I played along, before facing forward. "Sober up, dear. The ride isn't long."
When we reached her house, it was a struggle getting her to her bedroom, but it was an even bigger struggle getting her dressed. I managed to get her dress off, but she kept trying to kiss me as I tried to put her nightgown on. Between fits of laughter, she pushed my hands away and made me step back.
Hands on my hips, I stared down at her with a ghost of a smile on my lips. "Are you done? You can't just sleep in your bra and knickers."
She laughed, sat on the edge of her bed and looking up at me with tired eyes. "One kiss and I'll let you dress me."
"Definitely no." I shook my head. "We both know what happens after one kiss."
"When will there ever be an opportunity where we're alone together in my home?" she tried to make a point, but her accent was especially heavy, entwined with her drunkenness and making it harder to believe her logic.
I rested my hands on her shoulders and leaned my forehead on hers, staring into her eyes with amusement. "My beautiful love, you are drunk. We will not have sex when you're drunk."
Her hands tugged me closer by the waist as she smiled up at me. "But I know what I want. And I'm certain it's you."
"Not now," I repeated, removing her hands from my waist.
She pouted and I chuckled before kissing it away. Her tantrum seemed to tire her out as I was able to get her dressed after that, managing to tuck her under the covers.
"Stay with me," she mumbled, fingers clawing the air as a gesture for me to join her.
Nobody would be back for a while, I realised, and nobody was home.
"Fine," I gave in quickly, before kicking off my shoes and jumping into the bed beside her.
She grinned, snuggling into my side and breathing out contently. "Ya tak sil'no tebya lyublyu (I love you so much)."
I kissed the top of her head, holding her close and hoping she couldn't hear the rate of my heartbeat pick up. "I love you, too, Wanda."
We stayed like that, in each other's arms, until I sadly had to get up and leave her. She was asleep by the time her family returned, her face relaxed and without the constraints of reality. I smiled to myself, feeling overwhelmed with how much I was in love with her. I was lucky to have met her, I knew that much, but I was also unlucky to have met her under our circumstances.
As usual, I couldn't help but wonder what could have happened if we weren't in the wrong lifetime...
I kissed her once more, whispering an 'I love you' to her, before leaving the room and wondering if one day I might be able to stay under the covers with her, cuddling until I fell asleep, too.
"It won't take long, I just need to give him this," Wanda said nonchalantly, referring to the notebooks in her hand. "Then we can grab lunch."
I nodded and the two of us walked down the street until we located the Maximoff Publishing House. I'd been here a few times when visiting my brother and it always gave me a fuzzy warm feeling, my brain formulating daydreams where I could be published, too. But that's all they were – daydreams.
Wanda held the door open for me as I walked in and I gave her an appreciative smile before she followed after. She led the way to her brother's office at the back of the building and we passed several desks – editors, authors and other employees alike – before reaching it. Through the window, Wanda and I could see Pietro sat behind his desk, pen working away at some papers.
"Piet," Wanda called, knocking on the door.
He looked up and grinned, instantly motioning for us to come inside. I followed after Wanda and closed the door behind us before stopping in front of his desk.
"Y/N, I'm so glad you came!" he exclaimed, standing up and stretching out his hands ecstatically. "I didn't think you would if I'm being honest."
I tilted my head, bemused. "Er... pardon?"
"Piet, she doesn't–" Wanda started, making me look to her. She cut herself off with a sigh, massaging the bridge of her nose and shaking her head. "Oh, God."
"I'm not sure what's happening here," I said with an awkward chuckle, before taking the notebooks from Wanda's hand and dropping them on Pietro's desk, "but these are for you. Wanda said you left them at home."
He chuckled, pushing the notebooks to the side, before reaching into his top drawer and throwing some pages before me. "These are genius, Y/N."
My brows creased together with confusion as I lifted the pages, looking through them to see what had got him all happy. As my eyes skimmed the writing, my heart dropped. This was my writing.
"H-how did you get this?" I stammered, looking up at him.
His eyes flickered to Wanda and I immediately put the pieces together, my gaze falling to her. She smiled bashfully before avoiding my eyes. She'd given him my work without telling me? And she'd tricked me into coming here for this?
"I want to sign you," he stated, clasping his hands together. "Your work is amazing, arguably better than you brother's. You really undersold! And the fact that these are just excerpts means your actual completed work is even better. And I want it here at Maximoff Publishing."
My palms were sweaty as I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't know what. He wanted to sign me? Like, properly sign me?
"Y/N?" Wanda prompted, making me look her way. She watched with encouraging eyes, nodding to her brother.
I swallowed hard and looked to Pietro. "I'll have to think about it."
My family's reaction would not be kind, I knew that now. All my life I'd been hearing about how it was unladylike and unattractive for a woman to be a writer, how I should just leave the writing to Y/B/N. He was the writer and I needed to get over it because nobody would want to publish me. Yet, here we were.
"Y/N, what are you saying?" Wanda asked, resting a hand on my forearm to get my attention. "You've talked about being published for ages."
I was beginning to regret mentioning that silly fantasy to Wanda. If I'd known she was going to give my work to her brother, I never would have said anything.
"It's fine, Wan, she just needs time to mull it over," Pietro said dismissively, before smiling at me. "I do hope you'll decide soon though."
I forced a small smile his way before turning to leave. When I reached the empty hallway, Wanda was quick to run after me, tugging me backwards so I would face her.
"Why did you do that?" I asked instantly, frowning, feeling betrayed. "What made you think I wanted this?"
Her fingers touched mine gently as she looked between my eyes. "You've told me you wanted this. I know you want this."
I shook my head, letting go of her hand and stepping back. "I can't believe you took my work and gave it to him without asking. You shouldn't have done this, Wanda. You're making waves and–"
"You deserve this," she proclaimed sternly, silencing me. Her eyes were fiery as she stared hard. "You deserve to get the credit, too. Not just your brother. It's about damn time, Y/N."
My lips pressed together firmly as I held her stare, though she was winning as she told me everything I'd wanted to hear. Just once, somebody believed in me, but I was so used to hearing otherwise that it felt foreign.
"Pietro wants to help," she said, expression softening. "He recognises talent and you have it. Maybe I should have asked before giving him your work, maybe I shouldn't have. But I know that it was the only way to push you. You're so content accepting what other people want that you don't chase what you deserve."
Her passion and belief for my work warmed my heart to the core and I was certain that I'd never been more in love with her than I was now. She didn't have to care, but she did. For once, somebody did.
"Nobody will like this," I muttered, half-convinced but still worried about the drawbacks. "It could destroy your brother's career. It could backfire."
Wanda shook her head, stepping forward and resting a hand on my neck, thumb stroking the skin comfortingly. "He wouldn't take the risk if he didn't believe in you."
I placed my hand over hers, taking it between mine as I squeezed it gently, gratefully. I didn't know what else to say, since she'd countered all of my arguments. Everything apart from my family's reaction, which she couldn't control.
"I did this for you," she murmured, before wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me in for a hug. "For you to finally get what you deserve. So that you can make your own money and nobody can take it from you."
She paused as I returned her hug, though I was pondering her words, not knowing she felt that way. It sounded like she'd given this some thought. More than she was letting on.
"Especially if you get married," she added after consideration, and I pulled away, ready to say otherwise, but she closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, I know you don't like talking about it, but it needs to be said." She opened her eyes and I realised they were glassy with unshed tears. "I need you to be okay when it happens. I don't–" She sucked up a breath, smiling to relieve the tension, though it was full of pain. "I don't want some man owning you."
"Any money I make will belong to him anyway," I said, knowing she knew the world we lived in.
A downhearted chuckle escaped her lips. "You wouldn't allow that, Y/N, we both know that."
She wasn't wrong. But the thought of even being married to somebody that wasn't her made my heart crumble in my chest.
"Just think about it, okay?" she asked pleadingly. "Promise me you'll think about it? Properly?"
I nodded, reassuring her with a sad smile. "I will. I promise." She sighed with relief, tense shoulders relaxing. I continued quietly, "Thank you, Wanda. For all of this. For everything."
She nodded, before laughing to distract from the tear that slipped from her eye. I felt bad, but there was nothing I could do. She was so concerned about my future without her and it pained me to see. We never talked about it – an unspoken agreement – because it was too difficult to accept.
"Come on," she said, changing the subject. "Let's go get that lunch we came here for."
I hadn't made up my mind about the publishing deal, but I was starting to veer towards a 'yes'.
A few days passed since Pietro made the offer and I hadn't told anybody of it. Only Wanda knew and she hadn't brought it up since, clearly not wanting to pressure me into a decision which I appreciated. It made me realise that I really wanted this for myself. I deserved this for myself, even if I'd been taught otherwise.
It was those few days later when the Maximoffs came over for dinner and it was the first time I'd seen Pietro since he made me the offer. When he greeted me at the door, he smiled brightly.
"I assume you haven't made a decision," he noted.
"You assumed correctly," I said with amusement, though I could tell he really wanted to know.
"Very well," he said with a shrug. "I guess I'll just have to change your mind."
I quirked a brow, wondering what he meant by that, but he simply walked past me and into the living room. Wanda smiled at me next, squeezing my hand and greeting me with a hug.
"You okay?" she asked lowly, a hint of concern in her eyes.
"I'm good," I promised. "Are you?"
"Yes," she said with a small smile. Just like her brother, I could tell she wanted to know what I was thinking.
After our two families conversed in the living room for a while, dinner was served by our servants and we all took to the table to continue our chatter.
"So, Pietro," my father started, looking across the table to him. "How is business going at the publishing house?"
I should have known what he would do when he glanced at me with mischievous eyes.
"It's going great," he answered my father respectfully. "We've actually sought out a new author to add to the list of names we represent."
My eyes widened when I realised what he was doing.
"Oh, really?" my dad asked with surprise. "Who is he?"
Pietro looked in my direction and I forgot how to breathe. "It's actually your daughter, sir."
All eyes fell to me as I locked my gaze on the cutlery beside my plate.
"Y/N? You want to sign Y/N?" asked my dad for clarification.
"I do," he said with a grin, and my face was heating up the longer this conversation went on. "Wanda saw her work and thought I'd be interested. I am. I think she'd make a great fit at our publishing house. And if she has a manuscript to show us, then I'd love to publish it."
"You did this?" Y/B/N asked Wanda with raised brows, jealousy intertwined in his voice.
"Yes, I did," she answered, unaffected by his irritation. "She's really talented."
I risked glancing up, smiling at Wanda appreciatively. She nodded in response, the corner of her mouth lifting adorably, making my heart flutter.
"She really is," Pietro agreed, before looking to my dad who still seemed taken aback. "She probably got that from you. Writing seems to run in the family."
My dad looked at me across the table, his eyes softening. All of our conversations flashed to mind where he claimed he was discouraging me for my own benefit. But now, everything he'd thought wouldn't happen was. Would he still be against the idea?
"D'you really think she'd sell?" he finally spoke, looking to Pietro, and I couldn't contain the smile from my lips.
"Yeah, don't women struggle with their first book?" my brother asked, and when I examined his expression, I saw the distaste.
"I actually think she'd do really well...," Pietro began to explain, before going into a long rant about numbers and sales and past examples.
As he spoke, my brother got progressively more frustrated and I frowned, wondering why he couldn't be supportive like our parents were being. Did he want to be the only author in our family that bad? Or was he just afraid that I wouldn't help him with his own books anymore?
"Thank you for explaining all of that," my dad said once he was done. He smiled, impressed, looking to me. "I actually love the idea."
I felt lightweight when he said that. Things were actually starting to look up for me. My dad was actually supporting my passion and it was all I'd wanted to hear since I was a kid. Trying to hide my elation behind a smile, I took a sip of water. 
"Maybe Pietro is just trying to sweeten Y/N up so he can propose," Y/B/N suddenly said, making me choke on my water.
Looking to him with disbelief, he had a friendly smile on his lips, but I saw right through it.
"Y/B/N," Wanda scolded beside him. "Don't joke about that."
"Yeah, I can assure you that's not the case," Pietro added with a chuckle, unfazed by my brother's bitterness.
"I know that," I said reassuringly, before glaring at my brother. "You don't need to dignify him with a response, Pietro."
Changing the subject, my mother spoke up with a laugh. "Well, I think this is delightful. Y/N has always loved to write and I used to think it wasn't an appropriate future for a young woman, but if you are saying it could be, then I'm fully supportive of the idea."
I smiled at her, unable to believe she'd actually said that. She was the last person I thought would approve.
"Pietro has a good eye with these things," Oleg pointed out. "If he thinks it'll be successful, it will be."
My parents began to talk about how writing was something I'd loved for a long time, but I wasn't really listening because I felt overwhelmed with happiness. Pietro caught my eye, winking playfully, and I hoped he knew how grateful I was at what he'd done. Under the table, Wanda's fingers laced through mine and I didn't let go. Giving her a sideways glance, I thanked her with my eyes. She smiled widely and I tried very hard not to kiss her.
"...it's not the conventional route, but Y/N deserves it," my dad said, and I perked up with realisation.
"Maybe Wanda could break the conventional, too," I said, wanting to repay the brunette beside me.
"What do you mean?" she asked with furrowed brows.
I gave her a smile of disbelief. "Wanda, your art. It's stunning. Everything you create could easily sell for hundreds of pounds."
Her lips parted with surprise as she struggled to find words.
"That's not a bad idea, you know," Iryna said with thought. "Especially if Y/N's signing goes to plan."
Oleg groaned playfully, looking to my father. "This is happening so quickly... our girls are growing up, Y/D/N."
My dad chuckled alongside him as I stroked the top of Wanda's hand with my thumb. She squeezed it gently and I smiled to myself.
"You'll make tons of money," I said with certainty. "Your work is incredible, Wanda."
"I'll make enough money to support the both of us," Y/B/N said, doing a terrible job at hiding his frustration.
I looked over Wanda and to him with a hard stare and fake smile. "It's not even about the money to be honest. Maybe it's just about Wanda doing something she loves."
He nodded in agreement, though his eyes glared daggers at me. "I agree. And I won't stop her. But there's no need to sell her work. She can still practice her craft as usual. Heck, I'll even get her a studio."
I quirked a brow challengingly. "And what if she wants to sell it?"
Y/B/N clenched his jaw behind a forced smile. I ignored the warning look Wanda gave me in my peripheral and didn't dare look away from my brother's gaze. This was a side to him that I definitely didn't like.
My mum suddenly laughed to clear the air, but it was nervous and concerned. "Ah, sibling rivalry. Such playful nonsense."
"I believe the dessert is coming out now," my dad added, stealing the Maximoffs' attention away from my brother and I. "We're having soufflé."
With a final glare to my brother, I returned to eating. Any chatter of Wanda and I's potential careers ceased and my parents attempted to make the rest of the meal worthwhile.
As much as I wanted to be excited at the possibility of accepting Pietro's deal, especially since I had my parents' support, I couldn't help but think about what just happened with my brother. What was his problem?
When the meal ended, we all had some tea in the living room before bringing the evening to a close. At the door, we said our goodbyes to the Maximoffs and I was sure to thank Pietro.
"You didn't have to do that back there," I said as we shook hands, "but thank you. I think I know my answer now."
"Anything for my sister's best friend," he said with his signature charming smile. "And I hope it's what I think it is. Though, I suppose you won't tell me now."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not now."
"Soon, I hope." He nodded conclusively. "Have a good evening, Y/N."
Wanda shoved him out the way before I could respond before pulling me in for a hug. Pietro didn't seem offended as he gave me a knowing look over her shoulder. I stared back inquisitively, but got distracted when Wanda broke the hug, finding my eyes.
"You okay after what happened?" she asked gently, eyes subtly gesturing to my brother who was bidding her parents a goodbye.
"I'm okay," I reassured her with a smile. "Thanks for tonight."
She returned my smile. "Thank you. I think my parents actually took me seriously for a change."
"It's the least I could do," I told her, fully aware of everything she'd done for me.
Her smile widened, eyes flickering to my lips conspicuously. I shoved her gently, knowing what she was thinking and reminding her that we were in front of both of our families right now. She rolled her eyes playfully before stepping back.
"Such a handful," I mumbled jokingly.
When they left, the first thing Y/B/N did was storm off to his study. My parents exchanged glances before looking to me.
"Be nice," my mum warned.
"We'll see," I muttered under my breath, looking in the direction he'd gone.
Oh, was he about to get a piece of my mind.
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fitzs-trained-monkey · 3 years ago
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Chapter Three: If We Have Each Other.
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~When the world's not perfect When the world's not kind If we have each other then we'll both be fine. I will be your brother and I'll hold your hand. You should know I'll be there for you. I will always be there for you~
"Dude, we are in some serious jelly," I proclaimed as I paced around the small perimeter of the tree house.
"And that jam!" Isaac added from where he remained sitting at the table.
"Tight spot."
"Indeed!"
"Up a tree!" I supplied.
"Lost in the grass!" He offered. I swung around, shaking my finger at him.
"I'll tell ya what's grass, our- AAH FRACKLES!"  I had stepped on a stray nail in one of the floorboards. Hobbling my way back into my chair, I thunked my head against the table.
"But look at the bright side." Isaac leaned back in his chair. "Seeing as how our grand-theft-hairbrush is going viral and all, there is still a chance that me flipping the camera off could become a meme!" He pointed out. Slowly, I raised my head to stare at him.
"Are you kidding me right now?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"Consider it, Marty! All it took was five years being dead and now I'm finally fulfilling my life-long dream! If I'd known it was this easy, I would have killed myself a long time ago and spared me all that drama and emotional damage," Isaac smirked. I shook my head, my gaze drifted back to the Vader figure and snow globe sitting side-by-side on the shelf.
"Please don't talk like that Isaac," I sighed. Isaac's face fell.
"Sorry, I-I wasn't thinking," He apologized. I nodded.
"It's okay." It wasn't, but what more could be said when you didn't want to speak?
"Hey," Isaac spoke softly, ducking his head to get me to look at him, "Even if things go sour, I'm gonna be here for you. Just like I promised. Through thick and thin, remember?"
"Through thick and thin."
Smiling weakly, I repeated our life long mantra. I took a deep breath and focused back in on the problem.
"Alright, man. We gotta figure out a game plan. That video is gonna bring every hunter and their mom up here to ice our, or my, gluteus maximus. And if they know about the minimart then they know about the hospital. So, what's our play?"
"Well, I say you use your Sweet-Talkin' thing and talk any o'those alcoholic weirdos out of it," Isaac suggested. I shook my head.
"Isaac, you know how much I hate doing that."
Although it was a tempting idea, that wasn't something I wanted to mess with. If you start playing with the dark things, the dark things start playing with you. That wasn't a concept I liked, but Isaac would never understand that.
"I'm just saying it’s an option! And an easy one at that," Isaac pushed. I glared at him.
"I'm not doing that."
"It might come to it, Marty. I'm just saying as a plan C it-"
"The answer is no! Moving on." My tone killed and buried the subject. Isaac raised his hands in surrender.
"Fine. But misinformation is still our strongest tool. We should use it. Tell anybody who asks that it was all done on a computer," He conceded.
"Alright, that's plan A. What's plan B?"  Isaac's face twisted in thought. I let him do any and all planning when it came to telling a lie because he was so much better at making it convincing than I was. Isaac was the king of spouting believable bull crap. In fact, he would have made and excellent demon. That guy could probably get an angel to sell its soul for a box of holy doughnuts. When the idea hit Isaac's brain, I could almost see a light bulb light up above his head. He leaned forward, exited.
"Okay, I got it. We make up some BS story about a gay black dude who got chopped up by the ferry or something and the hospital wouldn't help him because all the doctors were racist homophobes, and it was the 50's." He nodded at me very seriously. Like I said, Isaac was king.
"That's is the worst, most ridiculous and stupid story I have ever heard," I told him. Isaac's nodding grew more excited. "It's perfect. They'll buy every word. Just one thing though, what about the mini-mart?" I pointed out.
Isaac opened his mouth before closing it again. Then he opened it. Then he closed it. Open. Closed. Open. Closed. This happened several more times before he finally came up with something good.
"So, our gay black guy was also a nice hobo dude and after he died he started stealing crap to give to his hobo buddies." Isaac gave me a thumbs up. I nodded.
"Okay, sounds good, sounds good. How do we explain me?" I splayed my hands. Isaac huffed and rolled his eyes, leaning back again and tucking his hands behind his head.
"Well, that’s easy. The camera never even caught a glimpse of your face, so you're his anonymous theft buddy slash item distributer!" He explained. I grinned at my fantastic phantasmal co-conspirator.
"Excellent, and of course nobody knows who the thief is. Especially not, innocent little me!" I chuckled at his brilliance.
"Exactly!" Isaac smirked.
"It's perfect! Except one last thing. We're gonna need some eyes and ears in on this. Someone to alert us when someone fishy comes lurking about," I said. Isaac nodded seriously.
"You're right. But who can we trust around here?" He asked. I could feel the smile split across my face.
"I can think of only one man for this job. A man as trustworthy as he is slimy. A man scrubbed clean by his own filth. A man so wonderful, words do him no justice!" I declared dramatically. Isaac was confused for a moment before realization dawned. His face fell.
"Please tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking."
"I think I am." I grinned. Isaac just sighed.
"Marty, no."
"Marty, yes!"
- 45 minutes later-
"Yo! Danny, my man! How's life?" I called out. Dan-the-Dope-Man looked up from...whatever it was he was doing outside Copper Harbor's one and only pharmacy. The pharmacy which he, in fact, owned. Honestly, I didn't want to know exactly what he had been doing behind the pile of cardboard boxes that were stacked up against the moldy brick. I figured it was better if I didn't. Dan smiled a grin that was missing two teeth.
"Marty! My worst customer and only friend! Life's good!" He greeted me, kicking a few of the boxes over to hide whatever suspicious activity it was that he had been up to. He winked and walked over to me, pushing his absolutely disgusting blond hair out of his face. "But, you know, business is betta'," He concluded.
I could never tell how tall Dan was, in this form especially. See, Dan-the-Dope-Man was a shapeshifter, though of course, no one else in the town knew that. That's how he was the owner of the pharmacy as well as a drug dealer. His other form, Jonathan De’ Santos, was the tall, 40-year-old, honest-looking Hawaiian man that ran the pharmacy. In this form, however, Dan was a somewhere-in-the-upper-five-foot-range Caucasian guy from Brooklyn with a thing against bathing. He said that the grungy, sewer-rat look was better for his side business. I wasn't sure how much of that I bought, but then again, who's gonna buy drugs from the guy who's supposed to make sure you don't destroy yourself with them.
"I bet it is!" I said, taking a step back when he reached me because, like I said, the guy had a thing against hygiene.
"This is a terrible, terrible idea," Isaac muttered, leaning on the wall to my left. I couldn't reply to him because although Dan knew what I was he didn't know about Isaac. So all I could do was give him a rude gesture behind my back. He saw it and stuck his tongue out at me.
"What can I do fo' ya, Marty?" Dan always pronounced my name as 'Mawty' at least in this form as it had a Brooklyn accent.
"Well, o' Danny boy, I have some rather bad news to deliver," I continued, "There might be some hunters coming to town soon."
Dan frowned; his eyes narrowed at me as he folded his arms over his chest.
"Well, that ain't good. Whatt'id ya do, Marty?" He asked. Sometimes Dan could be like my older brother, even if he didn't realize it.
"Woah, woah, woah! Who said I did anything?!" I defended. Dan just raised an eyebrow.
"You're always showin' off and ya know it," He said simply.
"He's right, you know," Isaac interjected. I wished I could tell him to shut his eidolic cake hole. It wouldn't have made much of a difference if I could, as he would still have continued talking, but the principle remained the same. Isaac was annoying. He needed to shut his mouth now and again. But I couldn't say that right now because he was a flipping ghost and ghosts are invisible. Mostly.
Ignoring Isaac, I opened my mouth to try to argue with Dan but quickly closed it again when found that I couldn't, because he was absolutely right. Now, I couldn’t admit that to him because Isaac was right here and that would be saying that he was right about something, and that was a thing I would never hear the end of.
"In regards," I started again.
"You'd just say 'regardless'," Isaac chimed in. I had to physically bite my tongue to keep from screaming at him to shut up.
"Regardless," I corrected. Isaac chuckled. I really needed to get myself some iron gauntlets or something so I could give his apparitional arse an involuntary appendectomy. Or just an iron ring so I could punch him in the face.
"Regardless, it wasn't me. This time. It was some attention seeking moron with a computer. That combined with my little hospital trips and you get something fishy looking." I finally managed to finish my sentence without Isaac chiming in.
"Well then ya betta' keep ya head down, Marty. I don' wan' ya gettin hurt." A dark look crossed over Dan's usually upbeat face. "Or worse," He finished.
"I know Danny, which is why I need you to do something for me," I said. Isaac sighed and face palmed but I ignored it.
"What?" Dan asked.
"I need you to watch out for any newcomers asking weird questions. I've got a plan if any hunters get too close to us, I just need to know who and where they are," I told him.
See, the pharmacy, the mini-mart, the bar, and the barber shop all sat across from each other at a four way intersection. Thus, Dan would have an excellent view of any hunter's first two targets. The origin of the supernatural activity, in this case the mini-mart, and the bar. He would be the perfect spy. Dan looked at me strangely.
"Say, Marty, you ain't plannin' on gankin' any a' dose' suckas' now are ya?" He asked, caution evident in his voice. I sighed, shaking my head internally. This was just another downside of being what I was. Everybody thinks you're a murderer. Though I knew I was far from innocent, I had never killed anyone. At least, anyone who didn't deserve it.
"Come on, Danny. In all the time you've known me, have I ever, er, ganked anyone?" I asked him, spreading my hands as if to catch the obvious answer.
"Well, no. But people can change," Dan pointed out. I rolled my eyes.
"Dan, I'm not gonna kill anyone. There, ya happy?" I said, only mildly aggravated. Isaac decided it was time to speak up again.
"You may not. But I will. If it comes to that. I won't let anybody hurt you, Marty. Not again. Not when I can do something about it."
I knew he was saying this now so I wouldn't be able to argue with him. Then I would forget and if he did kill someone Isaac would say he'd said he would. I ground my teeth together and reminded myself that it wasn't going to come to that. I wouldn't let it.
Meanwhile, Dan thought about what I'd spoken aloud.
"Yeah okay, but if anybody comes sniffin' I'm skippin', kay?" He agreed. I nodded.
"Okay, take care of yourself, Danny."
"You too, Marty." I smiled at him and began to walk away. Isaac pushed himself off the wall and trudged behind me, complaining loudly.
"Make sure you take care of yourself too, Issac! I'd hate myself if anything happened to you, Isaac! I wouldn't be able to survive without you, Isaac! Thanks Marty, your friendship means everything to me!" He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Ugh! Why do I even bother?"
I smirked giving him the sign for 'I love you' behind my back.
"Aw shut up!"
But I knew he was smiling.
~So, I'm thankful for my sister even though sometimes we fight When high school wasn't easy, she's the reason I survived. I know she'd never leave me and I hate to see her cry. I just wanna tell her that I'm always by her side. I just wanna tell her that...
The worlds not perfect, but it’s not that bad. If we've got each other and that’s all we have I will be your brother and I'll hold your hand You should know I'll be there for you When the world's not perfect When the world's not kind If we have each other then we'll both be fine I will be your brother and I'll hold your hand You should know I'll be there for you.
I will always be there for you.~
Lyrics from: If We Have Each Other by Alec Benjamin
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bowieemeddow · 5 years ago
Text
TRINITY. (Queen Fanfiction)
Part 2 // PJ’s.
Summary: Margaret McCullugh comes to the realisation that her life is a total mess. After an argument she realises she’s had enough; she grabs her bags and runs away.
If you missed part 1 click here
Sunday // May 1970
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I've been driving for hours now.
I don't know the time.
I don't even know where the fuck I am?!
I don't know where I'm going but I like that, I can go anywhere, anything can happen that can lead me into any direction, any place in the world.
While thinking this in my head I think god got the wrong idea about "anything happening" and deciding that a deer should show up out of no where leading me to crash into a fucking tree.
___
A shooting pain ran up my neck as I saw stars all over the place as I opened my eyes. I tried to move my leg but I groaned in pain, I must've broke it or something.
Glass was stuck in my hair and had left cuts down my arm and in my cheek, I didn't want to touch it incase it went too deep but my arm was covered in little drops of blood.
I clicked my seatbelt off and got out the car limping my way to the back of the car.
The back of the car was a little flame slowly but surely getting bigger, I smelled gas from the from of the car.
"SHIT!" I shouted as I quickly got my suitcase out the car and dragged it away from the car. Groaning every time I put weight on my foot.
I wasn't able to get far enough away from the car when it exploded.
The blow making me fall onto the ground, I luckily fell onto my back with my suitcase covering my face so no flying bits of glass could hit my face or upper body.
Thank god I'm in the middle of nowhere or else I'd be in deep trouble.
I just stayed there for several minutes, on the cold ground; I didn't know if I had energy to get myself up. But one good thing out of it; the rain put the car fire out.
I took it slowly, I firstly moved my suitcase from my face and onto the ground next to me. I then sat up and looked at my mum's cat burning away.
Just as I thought things couldn't get worse; it starts to rain, and I mean rain like I've never seen before.
I crawled over to where a newspaper was sitting; sure it was soaking wet but maybe it would give me a hint of where the fuck I am. I bent down to pick up the news paper which was in the middle of this random isolated street.
It was a London Newspaper. I'm in London.
Fuck fuck I'm in London. I'm in the middle of nowhere, in London, in the pouring rain.
Eventually, I decided enough was enough and that I had to get some shelter before I died of pneumonia or some shit.
It took another good hour and half of walking, before I found shelter.
A small bar in the city of Kensington called PJ's.
By the time I made it near the entrance of the bar I was close to complete exhaustion, I was sore from all the cuts and the rain water wasn't helping, my foot was in complete agony. I couldn't walk another step without collapsing.
_____________
Roger P.O.V
"Freddie that was amazing!" Mary cheered as she made her way over to Freddie.
"Well thank you darling." Freddie smiled gathering her up in a tight hug and kissing her.
"Well done love." heard Veronica say quietly to John as she sat down at the opened back of the van next to him.
"I still feel like we're missing something though?" Freddie added; nothing was ever good enough for Fred.
"I think I'm missing something too." I mumbled as I watched a hot girl walk by.
"Hey?" She stopped and looked at me with blushed cheeks, I winked at her before she walked away giggling to herself.
"Get your head out the gutter eh?" Brian suggested nudging my shoulder with his.
I wasn't listening to their conversation after that but instead lit a cigarette while watching a lady appear from the darkness completely soaking form the rain. She  limped along towards the building before throwing her suitcase down almost falling in top of it.
She was mostly in shadow so I couldn't see her properly; but from her cut legs I could tell she was in need of some help.
"What the bloody hell are you looking at now darling?" Freddie asked.
"The girl." Mary said as she looked in the direction I was.
"is it just me or does she look injured?"
"Oh shit she does?" Freddie gasped.
I put down my beer and walked over to her.
Margaret P.O.V
"I will not cry. I refuse to cry. Don't be such a weakling Margaret." I kept saying in my head to myself so maybe my watery eyes would calm down before I caused even more of a scene than what I've already done.
At least I looked calm keeping a straight face looking ahead. Maybe if I was by myself then I'd have a breakdown but we are near people so I keep quiet.
My head was splitting and my neck felt locked, glass started falling from my hair as I scratched my head.
"Hello?" I heard a voice say. I looked up to see 4 boys and 2 girls looking down at me.
I probably looked a mess. My mascara has likely ran down my cheeks due to a mix of rain and tears. I look like I went for a swim due to how bad the rain was; it's stopped now luckily enough.
"Honey what happened?" One of the girls said as she kneeled down next to me.
She was quite tall yet petite looking with a soft smile and a soft reassuring voice.
I clung onto her wrist just to make sure she was  real; that this was all real and I wasn't dreaming back a couple miles in my mothers car.
Realising that this was all real was enough for me to burst out in a mix of anger, frustration and fear.
"M-my car crashed into a tree. A-a deer c-came out of nowhere. I don't know where i am. I don't know anyone in Kensington."i could barely speak due to my shakiness from the shock of crashing into a tree and the fact that it's fucking freezing and I'm soaking wet.
"Hey, hey calm down love." Another boy said; another soft and reassuring voice.
He kneeled down beside me and put his hand on my knee; something Greg would do under the dining table.
"No don't do that!" I snapped at him trying to pull my skirt down as low as I could.
"Darling I know what it's like arriving to a scary place without knowing anyone. But you can trust us because we won't hurt you we want to help you and take you somewhere safe." Another man said as he came down and sat in front of me with a respectable distance between me and him. None of our limbs were touching. This boy looked different from the rest, had weird looking teeth and a weird fashion sense; like flamboyant.
I like it.
I was too caught up in admiring the boys jewellery that I never noticed that one of the boys must've ran to his van to grab a fur coat.
"Can I put this around you?” The boy asked, this boy had brown hair but lighter than any of the rest of them, he had some sort of attitude to him like he was stuck up his own arse.
"I'm Freddie Darling. This is Mary, my love. And these 3 boys are John, Brian and Roger. This is Veronica who's Johns girlfriend. Now that we're not strangers how about we go into the bar into the heat and try to warm you up huh?"
____________
We've been in the bar for about an hour now. No one here but us; the bartender wasn't even there surely it should be closed by now.
"Roger I don't need crutches. It's just a little bump I'll be fine if I keep walking on it." I argued  as I hopped back to the booth everyone was currently sitting at.
Except John, Mary and Veronica; they were away finding crutches for me; Mary said she saw a pair in storage at the back of the Pub.
"You May have broke your foot Margaret. We might need to take a trip to the hospital-"
"No! No hospitals I don't do hospitals." I snapped cutting off Brian's suggestions.
"Right okay. I'm just gonna drop the subject because I have a slight feeling that you will take a swing for me if I mutter the word hospital again." Brian's sitting back down with his hands raised slightly in defeat.
"I think that's a good idea Brian." I said back as I finally gave up and crawled back down on the floor to sit.
What the fuck am I doing? I've fucked everything up like usual; jumping into situations before looking at the whole picture.
I have to get my mums toasted car to Fisk before anyone finds it and contacts her. That's the first thing to do.
"Right I've got them." John said as he came back into the main hall holding a pair of crutches. Veronica and Mary following closely behind following closely behind.
"Can you help me up?" I asked Mary and Veronica took each hand and pulled me up.
"I do not need crutches John I am completely fine." I smiled with my head held high, both my feet on the ground.
"Margaret take the bloody crutches for god sake!" Roger complained as he snatched the crutches from John and held them out to me.
"Make me." I sassed back.
"For fuck sake you'll make your foot worse. Then we'll have no choice but to take you to the hospital."
"Please stop acting like my carer. I only met you an hour ago." I snapped as started to attempt to walk on my foot.
It hurt like an absolute bitch but I'm too arrogant to admit it; to admit he's right.
"Right now we are since we found you so I suggest you quit with this arrogance and just listen to me. Marg- MARGARET STOP FUCKING WALKING ON YOUR FOOT AND TAKE THE FUCKING CRUTCHES." Roger shouted over at me as I slowly but surely made my way around the hall. I ignored him and continued walking.
"Then since I'm so arrogant I guess I'll just leave then huh."
"Darling you go outside we'll carry you back in and tie you to a chair." Freddie Warner as he saw me limping towards the long corridor that lead to the main door.
"Ha, I like the sound of that!" I laughed, the long stretch of corridor made my voice echo around the empty bar.
The walls of the corridor was completely covered with thousands of band posters that date all the way back to 1955.
I stop and admire the biggest poster out of the lot.
"SMILE."
"Smile?" I breathe to myself; why does that ring a bell?
My thoughts left my head the minute I felt myself get lifted up and thrown over someone's shoulder.
I got the fright of my life until i caught a whiff of tobacco and cheap perfume; it's Roger.
"Roger! Put me down I swear to god I'll start kicking and screaming!" I warned as I found myself back in the main hall again.
"He won't let you down until you promise to listen to us. You are using they crutches even if I have to sew your bloody hands onto them dear." Freddie warned. He came over to me  with a big grin on his face, he was amused by all this.
"But I have to find somewhere to stay-"
"You're staying with us dear."
"But I have to get rid of the car before someone finds it. I'll get skinned alive if my parents find out where I am." I complained.
"We'll get rid of it in the morning. I know I guy who can do it cheap." Roger said. I felt my anger levels raise from a concerning 70% to 100% as I felt Rogers head move slightly; his breath ticking the back of my thigh.
That's when I realised what I was wearing; I skirt, a short skirt.
"I swear to GOD ROGER IF YOUR LOOKING UP MY SKIRT IM GONNA FUCKING KICK YOUR ARSE." I shouted kicking him hard in the chest frantically.
"Hm you're a feisty one." Roger chuckled to mask his groans of paints I continued to kick.
Roger let me down from his shoulder and stood back up with a smirk on his face.
"It's taking all my strength not to rip Your balls sack off." I said surprisingly calmly.
"What's stopping your sweetheart-"
"Right enough you two! Please Margaret just take them please." Veronica pleaded as she passed both the crutches over. To which I rolled my eyes and placed them under neath my armpit.
I made my way over to my suitcase that was currently lying on the stage on top of a raggedy old discoloured towel. Luckily my suitcase ( or more my mums stolen suitcase) is waterproof so everything inside should be completely dry; although it's probably not nice and folded the way I done it when I was packing since a little over an hour ago I was lying on top of it taking a mental breakdown.
I opened it up and grabbed my camera from its case and put its strap around neck before slowly but surely making my way back to the entrance.
"Where are you going?" John asked as he caught up to me almost instantly; damn him and his long legs.
"I wanna look at the posters near the entrance. I'm not gonna run away I swear!" I snapped at him; this was all too claustrophobic I couldn't move an inch without people asking if I was okay or asking where I was going.
"I was just going to ask if you if you wanted to take my bed tonight, you need your sleep since you've been through a lot today and you're gone going to get it on the couch. I'm gonna stay at Veronica's." He said sweetly, it made my eyes water slightly; a lovely boy just gave up his bed to make sure i get a good nights sleep and I just nearly snapped his head off.
I stayed silent deciding I've done enough bitching and simply nodded my head.
"Come with me." I pleaded to him grabbing onto his arm before he had the chance to walk away from me.
He stayed silent too and nodded.
Stayed behind me making sure I didn't fall as I made my way back to the long stretch of corridor. I wasn't great on these things.
"So are you a photographer?" Johns asked as he watched me looking around intently for a good cluster of posters to take a picture of.
"Not professionally no."
"Are you a murderer that's going to kill my friends tonight as they sleep?" He asked surprisingly calmly.
"Because if you are. Take Rog first cause he can be a right bastard sometime." I burst out laughing at his comment; sometime I've not done for quite a while to be honest.
Just simply laugh without the worry of being sarcastic, without it being fake. Just a genuine, carefree laugh; it felt good.
"See I got you to smile." He said pointing at me.
"Right right you got me there. I'm not a Killer John. Just a runaway."
"What exactly are you running away from Margaret?"
"You'll find out soon."
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mclennunf · 7 years ago
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Me, me, me please! I'd like to see a Paul and John in an argument and are giving each other the silent treatment, except Paul had actually gone busy making a meal for them both (John doesn't know Paul's making him one too). So John proceeds to indirectly throw shots at Paul and inadvertently hurt Paul's feelings. So Paul leaves (only to buy some bread / additional food) and John feels furious thinking Macca just up and left. So he paces all aggressively and starts cursing and what have you. (1/2
(2/2) But then Paul comes back all saddened and John just ruts him out. And ends up impatiently waiting for Paul to explain himself and Paul just says he bought John some bread to go with Paul’s cooking because he feels shite for upsetting John and John feels like such a turd for hurting poor Paul and proceeds to pepper him with love ;—-; By love I mean, trying to be cute and sorry at the same time to Paul McPouty lips
so specific! i like it. its not very long because im actually at work (oops should be working and im writing mclennon) i hope i did a good enough job for you, mate! xo
~
“I just don’t understand why you thought that was a good idea!” John was angry. He had been pacing around the sitting room as Paul sat on his chair. “I didn’t do anything wrong, John.” Paul argued in a much calmer tone than his boyfriend’s. “You’re so daft sometimes, McCartney. What if she hadn’t come back?” He held onto his beloved cat for dear life as he paced in front of the younger man. “She came back!” Paul pointed at Pyramus. Paul was always more of a dog person, and having one meant letting them outside. He didn’t realize cats would just run away and never come back.
“She’s a cat, Paul. Not a dog. She’s not trained to just come back!” John yelled and carried on some more. Paul just rolled his eyes as he stood up. “Right, Macca. Just ignore me then.” John sat down on the couch, stroking the cat protectively. “I’m done talking to you today anyroad.” John said with a growl in his voice that even made Pyramus look up at him with a bit of fear in her eyes. Paul rolled his big eyes once again and went into the kitchen. He knew John was rightfully pissed off at him, but that didn’t mean John needed to be so cruel with his words. Paul decided he would fix them dinner as an apology, perhaps that would make John forgive him for his nonsensical act.
Paul got right to work, busy as a bee as he started preparing their dinner. It would be a simple spaghetti dinner with Paul’s famous homemade vegetarian tomato sauce. He was chopping away at the vegetables, when he decided to put the knife down and peak his head out at John to see if he was still boiling with anger. “John?” He called his boyfriend in a soft voice. “Bugger off, Paul. I don’t even want to look at you right now.” He snapped back without looking up from the cat, still happily perched in his owner’s arms. “Don’t be like that..” Paul sighed, hoping  John would look up and see his large sad eyes. Unfortunately, he didn’t. “I’ll be however I want to be, considering you just do whatever the hell you want anyway, right? Act like a bloody git sometimes, you do.” John growled back. Paul sighed deeply again before deciding perhaps John just needed a bit more space from him for now. He went into the kitchen and turned off the stove, not wanting to burn their flat down.
He headed down the street to the local bakery that Paul admired so much. It was always so fresh and the employees were always extremely kind. John on the other hand, put the cat down on the couch and stood up when he heard the front door of their flat open and close. Paul’s shoes were gone. John was even more upset now. Maybe he had been too harsh on Paul.. After all, he was just trying to help take care of poor Pyramus. “Such an idiot, Lennon.” He cursed at himself as he paced back and forth in front of the small cat now. “Makin’ him fuckin’ sad,  now he’s gone off somewhere to pout.” John crossed his arms and looked out the window. “Oh.” He sighed in relief when he saw his boyfriend approaching the front door with a bag from the bakery.
When the front door opened, John stood across the room to welcome him. Paul did look sad. His bottom lip looked even more pouty and plump than usual. “Paul,” John tried to say. “I’m sorry I made you leave.. I’m sorry I got so upset.. You were only tryin’ t'help..” He walked closer to the younger man as he set the bakery bag down on the table.“I just went t'get some bread, John.” He didn’t look up at his boyfriend as he spoke the words though. His voice sounded soft and tired. “Talk to me, baby.” John put his hands on Paul’s hips. “I just feel terrible, y'know? Ye love that cat. I’m making dinner, y'know. Tryin’ t'make it up t'you.” Paul said, his lip still out and pouting. “Yer so sweet t'me, ‘n I’m a right arse.” John kisses Paul’s cheek softly.
As he presses his lips to Paul’s cheek, he felt a small smile spread across the bassist’s face. John smiled too, and began kissing him all over his face, muttering “I’m sorry, baby” and “Forgive me, princess” between the kisses. Paul finally started giggling and pushed him off slightly. “I forgive you, Lennon. Now shove off, I’ve got t'finish making dinner.” He said with a smile before placing a single kiss on John’s lips and pushing passed him and back over to the kitchen counter to finish chopping the vegetables. John grinned and walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around Paul’s slim waist and resting his chin on Paul’s shoulder. “If ye make me cut me finger off, we’re goin’ t'have a whole other problem, baby.” Paul told him as he rested his head on top of John’s.
“I’m hungry.” John whined a bit. “That’s why I’m makin’ dinner.” Paul rolled his eyes and let out a small chuckle. “I’m hungry for Paul McCartney!” John began kissing the younger man’s neck again. “Paul McCartney is up for dessert, Lennon.”
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