#all ya gotta say is ‘this band is back’ and then we’ll be off your ass about it

[delfiore]

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (4/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: your start at barcelona is rockier than expected. luckily, you have ona there to support you through it.

word count: 4.3k

a/n: we're almost at the end guys final stretch!! this series is ending at part 5

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART V

“I forgot how fucking dreadful press days are.”

You had just returned home from an entire day of cameras shoved in your face and smiling until your cheeks hurt. It didn’t help that you were nervous as hell at a new club and country. To say your battery was spent was an understatement.

“Well then don’t get used to it, 'cause I’d be happy not to do any of the work that got you here,” Toni answered on the video call.

“Fuck off,” you laughed. “I wanna stay here for a while. So, no need to worry.”

“Good. You deserve it, Y/N. You’ll do great.”

“Thank you for all that you do, Tones. I don’t thank you enough for putting up with me and my bullshit.”

“You can thank me by becoming top scorer this season?”

You grinned, “We’ll see.”

There was a different expectation of being a Barcelona player. You were presumed to integrate yourself into a team of champions and help prolong the club’s success.

These were high expectations, and with them came intensive physical and technical training. You had to adapt to a new style of play, new players with different sets of skills, not to mention having to settle into a whole new footballing culture. But you were where you are because you never backed down from a challenge, and this one was no exception.

It certainly helped that there were people you have played with at the club—Lucy, Keira, and, of course, Ona.

You felt her eyes on you as you finished a sprint on the training ground, slightly self-conscious as you were already sloppy and perspiring just from the warmup.

“Need some water, Y/L/N? You’re not already sweating, are you?” Lucy teased as she jogged past with a ball at her feet.

You pointed at the glaring sun. “Just gotta get used to the weather.”

“Well, ya better get used to it fast ‘cause I’m not gonna wait for you to catch up,” the English defender said before nutmegging you with a cackle.

“Oh, you’re fucking on!”

The laughter caught Ona’s attention. She looked over and saw you and Lucy fighting the ball off each other, your giggles rolling like a child’s yet your movements were fluid and expertly as if you were on the pitch. She couldn’t help but smile as her eyes followed your form, energized and youthful, your skin glistening under the sun.

The ball rolled to her, and she stopped it when the sole of her feet, before passing it back to you. Your giggles died down as you took the ball in your hands and tossed it over to Lucy.

“Hey,” you said with a lingering beam.

“Hi,” she returned your smile.

She lingered, watching the smile never leave your face as you jogged—practically bounced—over to Coach. You were much happier here, it was apparent. How could you not, when there is sunshine all year round in Barcelona? She could only hope she wasn’t the one to rain on your parade.

During a physical training drill involving two people, you were paired with her. Something about similar height and body weight, but she could only think about the way you were panting from the heat, and how you chugged your water like a parched man in the middle of the desert.

“Ready?” She smirked, handing the elastic band to you.

You huffed with a grin and put the band around your waist. “Don’t hold back.”

“Not planning on it.”

Somewhere along the session, Ona had forgotten all about her worries. Something had changed in you, or maybe she had never known the real you at all; the playful and charismatic part of you that you weren’t using to charm her, but it was just the way you were with people. It made her rue not cherishing you as you were before, and letting you slip through her fingers.

You were sprawled out on the grass like a starfish, heaving from the strenuous session. Several of your teammates were also on the ground, some sitting, some lying down as you were, so you didn’t feel too bad about being absolutely destroyed.

“You getting up anytime soon, partner?” A figure blocked the beaming rays of the sun, a short relief from the heat.

“Keep gloating,” you groaned and stood up, pulling your shirt up to wipe the sweat from your face. You knew your plan was working when you spotted her looking at your abdomen, your skin glowing and contoured in the light.

Hardly hiding your smirk, you grabbed a bottle of water, feeling a strange tightness in your thigh just as the session was brought to an end.

“Everyone, gather around,” Mapi waved her hands. “We’re hosting a little party to celebrate a new season at ours. Saturday night, 7 o’clock, BYOB, and a potluck vibe. Whatever you can bring, okay?”

“As long as there won’t be another fire like last time, we’re all good,” said Rolfö with a smirk.

“That was one time, okay? And it wasn’t even that bad,” Mapi protested.

“It almost burned your pretty little face off,” Pina teased.

“Hey, you alright?” You heard Ona whisper next to you. She must have noticed the way you were grimacing and grabbing at the back of your leg.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just feeling a little tight right here.” It was the spot in which your hamstring was injured a couple of years ago.

“Okay, let’s go to the physio,” Ona offered you her arm.

“Oh, it’s okay. I can find my way there.”

Ona hesitated. She suddenly realized how this must have looked for her; either an overly concerned and attentive teammate or an appropriately concerned and attentive lover.

“Do you . . . not want me to come with you?” She asked, her voice quiet and almost inaudible over Mapi frantically defending herself.

“Well, I . . . I don’t want to bother you.”

“It won’t be a bother,” she was astonished to know you thought you could ever bother her. “Promise.”

You nodded and walked with her to the physio quarters. All the while, Ona was walking a step behind you just in case you needed her assistance. When you arrived, a couple of the physios greeted you heartily in Catalan, and Ona was quick to jump in and translate when you looked at her for help.

“We’ve got a feeling this might happen, given her history with that hamstring injury. Tell her to lie down, I’ll have a look.”

You grimaced as the physio felt your thigh, digging his fingers into your flesh, your soft groans stirring a hidden part in Ona. There was a time when she was the one to dig her digits into your thighs. She knew you liked it when did because you would always make your pleasure known.

“He said you’ll be okay, Y/N. Just have to remember to stretch thoroughly before and after physical exercise.”

You sighed and pouted, as you rested your chin on your folded arms.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I just came to a new club, I don’t want this to slow me down,” you blew air out of your mouth. “I just don’t wanna let anyone down.”

“You won’t, Y/N,” Ona took a stool and sat in front of you. “I know any club would be happy to have you at 70%, much less at your full capacity.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Is this your attempt at making me feel better after everything?”

Ona stuttered, gawking at your comment. Your grin never faltered, and you tilted your head, taunting her.

“I guess I deserved that,” she chuckled quietly, feeling warmth creep up her cheeks.

“I’m just kidding, Ona. I wanna get past it, really,” your eyes softened. “It was causing unnecessary stress and . . . I don’t wanna feel like that anymore.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“No, please. Don’t apologize anymore. I know you’re sorry.”

“Okay, sorry,” she cringed as soon as it came out. “Okay.”

“I want us to start over. As friends.” You said, extending a hand towards her, dangling it in front of her face. “After all, I feel like we should at least be friendly if we’re playing on the same team now, right?”

She wanted nothing more than to scream in your face and tell her how much she wanted you, how much she wanted to wake up in the morning and find you in the bed next to her, to make you coffee and hold you and kiss you and tell everyone on the team about it because she would be so proud to be yours, to tell you that there hasn’t been a day since she left Manchester that she didn’t wish she could go back and tell you how she really felt.

Instead, she nodded and took your hand. “Yeah, okay.”

It wasn’t just her decision anymore, it never was. And yet, she decided anyway and had to live with it.

As the season rolled on, you found yourself slipping sometimes. You would think about Ona and the time you spent together, but you also cherished what you had now. You were teammates, but you were also friends. You supported and helped each other during training and matches, just as good teammates should. Maybe it was easier that way, but you yearned to be close to her again.

Keira insisted that the best thing you could do was to go on dates and go on dates you did. You went on so many dates in the span of a month that all the faces seemed to have blurred together. A couple of them became one-night stands, but none turned out to be anything meaningful, not when you only had one person in the back of your mind, hard as you tried not to act on them.

They reminded you of Leena, how shitty you handled the situation by basically fleeing the country. You had called her a few times, and left a few messages, wanting to talk and apologize, but none of them were answered. You tried her Instagram, but she had blocked you on there too. You didn’t blame her, and maybe reaching out now was only giving you the closure you needed to move on, but you wanted to do it because you believed Leena deserved an apology for everything she’s done for you.

So you texted Gio, letting him know what happened. He wasn’t pleased when you told him, not exactly liking that you had disrespected his friend, but agreed to pass a message along.

“Hello, Coach. Tough loss today. What do you think was the main factor in Barça’s defeat today?” “Well, it’s never fun to go through a loss, and we all have a lot of work to do. I can’t comment as to why we’ve lost—I’d have to watch it back—but we simply were not the better team today.” “What do you think of Y/N Y/L/N’s performance? There were several chances that she’s missed today, and she hasn’t made an impression at the club quite yet. Have you had any reassessments about this signing at all?” “To evaluate a player’s performance this early is simply unfair. Some players hit the ground running right away, but some don’t. It doesn’t mean they are doomed. Y/N has shown time and time again that she is a world-class player, and I have full faith that she will become an integral part of our squad.”

Barcelona hadn’t won in five games. It was starting to worry the board. You knew it was a team sport, and that if you lost, it meant multiple people were doing something wrong. But you started all five of those games, and you missed a lot of chances and passes. It made you think it was your fault somehow.

You turned off the press conference you were watching of Jonatan’s. Even though he didn’t show it, you knew he was stressed, trying to find a fault in the system. You wished you knew the answer, but you didn’t, because you were trying your best and it still didn’t seem to be good enough.

“Alright, girls.” Alexia clapped her hands together as she stood in the middle of the dressing room. “We lost. Big deal. Feel the sting, and let it pass over you. If you don’t, we might as well just give up on the title now. We can’t do that. We’re champions. The reason why we are is that we are strong enough to get back up, time and time again. That’s what makes us champions.”

Your eyes darted toward Ona sitting across the dressing room with her head in her hands. There were two goals out of the four the team conceded that came from the right flank, where Ona was covering. The moment those goals hit the net, you had the urge to yell, but seeing the way her shoulders sagged as she dejectedly looked away absolved you of any anger you felt.

You remembered the nights you spent consoling her over losses that could have gone either way. She blamed herself for every defeat she had suffered, finding every fault that she had contributed to, and today was no different.

“Hey,” you knelt in front of her.

She looked up at you, and you knew she had been crying from how red her face was.

You offered her a sad smile. “Look around you. There’s something worse than being sad, and that’s being alone and sad. You’re not alone.”

Placing a firm hand on her knee, you rubbed her skin softly. She laughed quietly, and you remembered how it was to kiss her. It was so long ago, but the traces of it still haunted you before you closed your eyes at night. It wouldn’t be good for either of you now. Plus, everyone was here.

“Did you just quote Ted Lasso at me?”

“Yeah, but he ain’t wrong.”

Looking around the room at the sullen faces of your teammates, you couldn’t help but feel grateful that they were all here, united by the same emotions. But you still couldn’t shake that gnawing feeling in your stomach that you might have been the problem. The moment you came to the club, Barcelona went on its worst streak in years? Was it the inevitability of a club’s success running its course, or that you had come in and fucked it all up? You knew the answer, of course, and you hated the anxiety that followed.

But you were Y/N Y/L/N, and you never backed down from a challenge, and it wouldn’t be fun if there were none.

It felt like everything you were doing, it was all wrong. Jonatan had sent you in to utilize your dribbling, but you felt like every time you tried, the opposition would mercilessly cut you off. You felt helpless, seeing the way your teammates attempted to hide how annoyed they were you had lost possession again, this time from a quick pass to the flank from Aitana. You were subbed off halfway through the second half to make way for Salma, who managed to salvage a point with an equalizer later in the game.

You sat on the bench, watching your teammates fight on, feeling dejected and trying not to cry before you could get to the dressing room. Patri, who had also been subbed off, put her arm on your shoulder and rubbed it soothingly.

Whilst you were coming off, you heard boos coming from the stands, from Barça fans, calling you names, telling you to go back where you came from. You bit your lip, and kept your head down, so people wouldn’t see your tears and make fun of them too.

You excused yourself at the final whistle to find a bathroom you could hide in. Why was it so hard for you to receive those passes? You had never had trouble with passing before.

Looking in the mirror, you saw a face looking back with pity. But it wasn’t you, not really. It was the insecure child you were years ago, the one whose ambitions were driven by fear of abandonment. Her eyes were brimming with tears, her bottom lip jutting out and quivering, her chest rose and fell like she awaited the world to close in on her and swallow her whole.

Your breathing picked up, and you started pacing back and forth, breathing heavily out of your mouth. Your hands shook as you mumbled to yourself to get your shit together. The breaths you drew grew faster and shallower until you sunk to your knees on the cold tiles and wept. You didn’t know how long you were there. It could have been minutes, or hours until two arms wrapped around you tightly.

You looked up, panicked, but it was just Ona. Still, you stood up and walked away from her attempting to hide your tear-stained face, but she insisted, pulling you into her.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” She said, over and over. “Look at me.”

So you looked. You were so tired of fighting, you just wanted to go home. Her eyes darted back and forth between yours, hard at first trying to get you to stop being stubborn, but then they softened, seeing you fall apart like this.

“This feels oddly familiar, doesn’t it?” She said.

You sniffled, and let out a tearful laugh before launching yourself into her arms. She stood there holding you while you cried until you were too tired to continue.

Winter could have come and gone in Barcelona and you would have never noticed. Still, the Catalans were big on Christmas, at least the ones you knew were. Everyone had been talking about their holiday plans, much of it involved big dinners surrounded by family and/or drinking until you passed out, but you thought about the vacation you would be taking somewhere warm. Mexico perhaps, the Maldives, or back to good ol’ Ibiza.

So when Ona invited you to come back to Vilassar de Mar to spend Christmas with her and her family, you had an important decision to make. You knew how it looked, but things were far from how they appeared between you. After that game away, you had found it easier to confide in Ona about things; little things, big things, it didn’t matter, Ona was always there to listen. In return, you lent her your ears and maybe a shoulder to lean on. You had almost become something like friends.

Ona’s childhood home was no grand castle, but it was warm and loving. Her parents and brother greeted you like you were family right from the moment you stepped through the door, taking your suitcase and jacket from you. Her father, claiming to be a big fan of yours, asked for your autograph and you could only happily indulge him.

“Please, our home is yours,” her mother said, leading you inside.

“Told you they could be a lot,” Ona murmured with a grin.

“What do you mean? I’m being treated like royalty! I’m not complaining,” you smirked and she rolled her eyes.

Her mother led you and Ona to her childhood bedroom, a small room littered with posters and trophies sitting on a shelf at the foot of her bed.

Just then, her mother gasped quietly as if remembering something, and spoke to Ona in Spanish. She stuttered for a few seconds, then turned to you. “My mom’s saying you could take this room and I’ll sleep in Joan’s. He’ll take the couch if that’s—”

“Oh, no, no, please. I feel bad enough that you guys are hosting me, I can’t just kick your brother out of his room.” You shook your head quickly. “I could sleep here if that’s okay.”

Ona nodded gingerly and relayed the message to her mother, who was fully understanding and left you both to unpack.

The door clicked shut, and you looked over to Ona, who had lifted the corner of her mouth looking back at you.

Aitana came to visit on the 23rd, claiming it was always a treat to hang at the Batlles because she always leaves well-fed. You could attest to that, as the dinners they served you were mouth-watering, and you found yourself thinking about the next one the moment you opened your eyes in the morning.

You had helped Ona’s mom with juicing some lemonade to bring out to everyone relaxing in the backyard or—in Ona and Aitana’s case—passing a football around. Quickly setting the lemonade down on the table—much to Mrs. Batlle’s dismay—you sprinted towards the girls and took the ball from Ona’s feet.

She stuck her tongue out at you and walked towards the table, taking a glass of lemonade for herself.

“Would it be so hard to admit to what you’re both denying yourself?”

You chuckled quietly at Aitana’s words. “It feels more like deprivation than denial.”

“Ona loves you, Y/N.” She said, watching Ona on the other side of the yard conversing with her brother.

“Did she tell you that?”

“I’ve known the girl ever since we were 15,” she shrugged. “And yes, she cried to me last year about you.”

You chuckled. “Well, the feeling is definitely mutual.”

“But . . . ?”

You glanced at her and sent a wordless smile, plopping your sunglasses back on before joining the Batlles for their daily lemonade. Aitana watched you to the table, picking up on Ona quickly handing you a glass, and brushing hair out of your eyes as you drank. Idiots, she thought, the both of them.

Looking back, there was not a single moment during your time in Vilassar de Mar that you weren’t holding your breath every time you were in the same room as Ona. It made you seek out her mom, and hang with her more than you did with Ona. You were also able to pick up some more Spanish, as it was the only way you could effectively communicate with her. You didn’t want to toot your own horn, but her mom did call you an aprendiz rápida, a fast learner.

“Your parents have outdone themselves once again,” you said, leaning against the window. “I wish I grew up with the stuff you guys eat here. Christmas would be so much more fun.”

“Did you like the caga tío too?” Ona grinned and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Best thing ever. It poops nougat!” You said excitedly and shook your head.

As your laughter died down, you could hear slurred singing and laughing outside the window somewhere down the street.

“I can’t remember the last time I was this happy,” you said, a ghost of a smile remaining on your lips.

Ona looked out the window, smiling too. “It’s why I always go home whenever I feel down. If I can’t go home, I’ll bring my family to me.” She was sitting next to you now, her arms folded and propped on her thighs. “You’re always welcome to visit. I’m sure they love you more than they love me now.”

“Well, I’d be surprised if they could resist my charm,” you grinned and pushed her shoulder. “I envy you, Ona. Your family’s fantastic.”

“You’ve never told me about your family before,” she said.

“Because there’s nothing to tell,” you shrugged. “Mom and Dad never really cared about me anyway. The only good thing they did for me was sign me up for football and let me leave home to go to my youth club.

They used to go to my games because they were obligated to. The moment I turned 18, they never felt the need. Sometimes I just want to win a game, then look into the stands and see them wearing my shirt, cheering me on, be proud of me.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Ona offered, bumping her knee against your own.

“Don’t be. If they’re not, you shouldn’t be,” you smiled sadly.

Your gaze shifted to her face, seeing the way she studied you, just like that day in the tunnel. Ona was an observer, and it was apparent whenever she was. It was why she was so good at the game; she absorbed like a sponge and repeated what she learned like it was nothing.

Her eyes darted back and forth between your own, and you smiled, watching her nuzzle into her arm, yet leaning in ever so gently.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

“Is this wise?” You raised an eyebrow at her, grinning.

“No,” her voice came out as barely a whisper, “but I know it’s not wrong.”

She was right. It shouldn’t be wrong to feel the way you did. From the beginning, it’s always been her.

You were depriving yourself of the one missing piece in your life, but you were afraid of getting hurt again. But you wanted to be loved so badly, and you didn’t want anyone else.

#ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagines #ona batlle angst #one batlle #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #aitana bonmati #lucy bronze #woso imagines

[rosyjn]

...sam fucking you on the set of avatar?...

I am NUTTINGGG omg this anon sent me a bunch of stuff I love it 🤍

Not proofread btw 💔

MDNI 🚨

_____________________________________________

“Shh,” he coos, sneakily creeping around the studio and holding your arm tightly.

“Sam, we’ll get in trouble!” you scold. He only smirks, not stopping. He’s taken off his motion capture suit, having left it lazily in a dressing room. Now, he’s walking around in his normal t-shirt and shorts. But god, he looks so hot. Even in the simplest clothes, that fucking smile gets you every time.

“I’ll be quick, swear. Have ya back after lunch,” he teases. It’s not right, of course it’s not right. As fun as Avatar is, it’s work. You guys are at work. He leads you through the hallways of the warehouse studio. Every little twist and turn of the building looks the exact same. It always confuses you. You wonder how an idiot like him can navigate so efficiently. He pushes a door open, still holding your arm, then looking around when a motion sensor light flicks on.

“My god,” you scoff, watching Sam investigate the little dressing room. The light overhead awkwardly blinks a few times, indicating that the space hadn’t been used in a minute. You stand on your tippy toes, peeking over his broad shoulder to look. “So dingy..” you mutter.

“Oh, shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pulling you into the room behind him. You squeal as he shoves you in, roughly slamming the door behind him.

“We’ll get caught!” you giggle. He wraps his arms around you, watching you melt like putty into his embrace and laugh. As you rest your head in his chest, he looks around the room, letting your bodies slowly sway side to side in a hug. You were right, it’s definitely dingy, and obviously hasn’t been used in a while. The light is a yellowish tint, illuminating the large, empty vanity that sits up against the wall. It’s a small space, but it’ll work.

“Bend over, right there,” he says, guiding your body towards the vanity table. You follow his instructions, slyly arching your back as you bend over. Sam’s bulge begins to grow through his shorts as he watches your ass move in your leggings. The cold wood of the table pressed against your torso and chest as you bend all the way over, relaxing yourself. His eyes travel up and down your body as he fiddles with the band of his sweatpants, reaching for his cock. “Fuck,” he marvels, watching the way your leggings frame your butt so well.

“Hmm?” you reach for your leggings, swiftly sliding them down. Sam’s eyebrows raise, watching your ass pop out. It’s clad in a small thong, and his dick grows warmer and harder at the sight. You continue slipping your pants off, wiggling and pushing them until the fabric bunches at your ankles. He starts stroking his length desperately, almost unable to control himself at the sight. “Hurry up, we gotta be back after lunch,” you remind him.

“I’ll be quick,” he assures you.

_______________________

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you gasp, body shaking and sore with every thrust. The vanity that you’re bent over is shaking and rattling rapidly, as you get mercilessly fucked on it. It’s obviously past lunchtime, the crew is wondering where the fuck you are. But that doesn’t cross your mind, your judgement is cloudy.

“What did I say? Keep it arched,” Sam grunts, pushing down on your upper back. He needs to get inside of you, as deep as he can. He needs to feel your tight, wet pussy on every inch that he has. So he keeps slamming into you, even though the vanity threatens to collapse. The old table slams against the wall, banging over and over again. Somebody has definitely heard by now. Your sore, raw cunt takes him. It takes every drop of cum, throbbing motion, and vein.

“Gonna-“ you begin, blabbering. He just chuckles, knowing how cock drunk you are. His eyes are glued to where his dick enters you. He watches the movement, sliding in and out of you. It’s so much. His girth stretches you out, pushing your walls over and over again. His grunts and dirty talk make your heart flutter. You can hardly breathe. Your face is pressed against the wood of the vanity as you moan and whine gibberish. Every once in a while, Sam gives a hard slap to your ass, just to make sure you’re still with him. When you react, flinching and yelping at the sting, he knows you’re okay.

In his mind, until his balls are drenched in slick and you can’t feel anything in the world but his cock, you can take more. And you do take it. You grab onto the table, feeling an oncoming orgasm. Sam can feel it too with the way you’re pulsating and clenching around him.

“Close?” he practically degrades you.

“Yes!” you whine, letting his little squirts of warm pre cum fill you up.

“Go on,” he groans, his thrusts becoming more erratic as you tighten up and arch your back. His breathing becomes irregular, and a small bead of sweat runs down his forehead. The pleasure builds up inside the both of you. The room fills with moans, both male and female, as you both let yourselves go. His warm cum dumps into you deliciously, and your tense body relaxes.

He pulls out, letting his cock soften itself as you catch your breath. That is, until his phone vibrates from in his pants. You immediately look up, watching him take the little device out.

“Who is it?” you ask, grabbing your leggings. He looks at the screen and sighs.

“Jim..” he says.

Hope y’all enjoyed! This was a little bad sorry I’ve been busy! Also “Jim” is James Cameron (the director of Avatar)

#jake sully #avatar #sam worthington #avatar fanfiction #dilf jake sully #dilf!jake sully #dilf!jake sully x reader #jake sully fanfiction #jake sully fanfic #jake sully x reader #sam worthington brainrot #sam worthington fanfiction #sam worthington fanfic #babygirl sam worthington #sam worthington smut #bbg sam worthington #sam worthington edit #dilf sam worthington #dilf sam worthington fanfiction #sam worthington x reader #sam worthington my love #sam Worthington imagine

[sheenastark22]

Makeup, Make Out

Pairing: Eddie munson x plus size reader

This was a request and I’m super excited for it.

A/N I’m not very good at smut so I tried to give you an outline and let y’all imagine what you want. I hope you guys enjoy it

You and Eddie have been best friends since middle school, which felt like forever ago considering you’re both seniors now. Well this is technically Eddie’s second senior year, he’s one year older than you.

Recently, you and Eddie have gotten extra close. He drives you to and from school every day, he’s been buying you more gifts than usual, and even having sleepovers at his trailer. You even heard Eddie’s uncle ask Eddie if you all were dating because you’d been so close lately.

“You really think I’m dating Y/N?” Eddie laughed in response to his uncle.

But the way Eddie meant that and they way you took it were two different things.

Obviously Eddie was very good looking, so were you but you’re a little bigger than most girls, which is why you thought that Eddie wouldn’t date you because of your size (this is far from the truth)

Even though Eddie was “the freak” it wasn’t uncommon to hear girls talk about how much they’d like to have sex with him. You and Eddie always made fun of them because they were the same girls who treated his best friend like garbage. Eddie never had anything negative to say about you and when people would try to be mean at school he would immediately shut them up and you do the same for him.

However in your later years of highschool, the guys stopped being as mean and the even some of the girls were a little nicer. You still plus size but now you’re plus size with curves. Since you and Eddie have been hanging out more, some people thought it was because you guys were fucking, but that wasn’t it. Most of the time it was to listen to music or just have deep conversations.

Today, Eddie asked you to come over and you said yes so now you’re on your way to Eddie’s when you got an idea, what if you did his makeup. You bring your makeup bag with you and some extra clothes because you’ll probably spend the night and most of his clothes are too small for you.

“Hey Eddie, is your uncle not home?” You say as you walk into his trailer like you own the place, it’s getting close to summer time and Eddie doesn’t have AC so you’re wearing a white cropped tank top with some denim shorts that show off your curves and white converse with your hair half way up, perfectly framing your face, showing your makeup skills.

“Nope, he’s working double today Princess” he paused looking you yo and down trying not to be obvious about his crush. “I like what you did with your hair today” he finished his sentence. “Thanks Eds, so I got an idea. Do you remember the other day when you told me that I was really good at makeup and that the guys who wear eyeliner and play guitar are really metal?”

He looks at you excitedly, “ I remember something like that”

“We’ll good because i brought my makeup today and figured we’d try out some eyeliner, you gotta out your hair back first tho”.

“Shit. I don’t have a hair tie”

“That’s ok” you sit down on his bed “Come sit infront of me and I’ll put it up with one of my rubber bands” Eddie plops down infront of you on his bed letting you gently gather his hair into a loose ponytail, leaving a few strands out. “There ya go, now turn around so I can do your makeup pretty boy” he watched as you brought him close to you and he took in the scent of your perfume while you made sure to be gentle and do his eyeliner. He noticed you were kind of struggling as if you couldn’t get close enough.

“Would it help if you sat in my lap sweetheart?” That question took you by surprise, Eddie knew you were a bigger girl, has this man lost his mind? “Eddie are you serious right now?” You ask kind of scared to know the answer. “Why wouldn’t I be? y/n you are 5’4, I’m quite a bit taller than you, it’d be easier if you were in my lap so you can make me look all metal.” “Boy, I may be shorter than you but i am also heavier than you!” You say kind of frustrated that he’s making you explain yourself. “So?”

He says with a smirk. “I can handle it” he’s so pleased with himself right now, you roll your eyes. “Eddie I really just don’t know” he cuts off your rambling by grabbing your hips and placing you on his lap. This man is so strong for no reason. You felt like a ragdoll being slung around.

“See I’m fine, now finish my eyeliner if you don’t mind m’lady”

“Okay” you giggle. You’d never felt this close to him. When you we’re almost finish you had him open his eyes so you could get the bottom part good. When he does he looks you up and down fully taking you in.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are y/n”

“Eddie are you high right now”

He tries to act hurt by the question but you both know he’s not, “Nope, stone cold sober, surprisingly”

“So you really think I’m beautiful?”

“Absolutely I do, I always have but I’ve been and idiot and too scared to say anything. I don’t know why but now just seemed like the perfect time to tell you. Everything about you is beautiful; you’re amazing curves, your stretch marks, these thighs, how soft you are, your beautiful face, how kind and funny you are. You’re my dream girl.”

“I don’t know what to say, I’ve kind of always had a crush on you too but I just thought you saw me like a sister or something, especially since I’m fat and I over heard you and your uncle the other day”

“Oh y/n I only said that because I didn’t think I was good enough for you”

“I wish I would’ve known that, I’ve been trying to lose weight ever since that day so maybe I would be” he cut you off again, but this time with a kiss, eye liner half way done and all. He didn’t care he just wanted you. This kiss wasn’t just a normal kiss either, it was slow and passionate, the kind to make fireworks go off in your head. Then he pulled away with one hand around your waist and the other holding your chin.

“Never try to change for anyone, especially not me. I love you as you are.” He kisses you again and you could feel the passion he tugged at the bottom of your tank top for you to take it off, you do and he leaves a few hickeys down your chest and gets to your stomach and kisses it all over. When he gets to your shirts he begins to unbutton them, giving you a look first to make sure it’s ok. You nod. He takes them off you and takes you in. He begins to kiss down your thighs and he gets to your panties feeling how wet you are. You pulls them down and slips his fingers into you slowly, you feel his rings against you. (Y’all use your imagination) he makes you feel so good. “I want to taste you” he says, the next thing you know his tounge is touching all the right spots, he makes you truly feel like a queen. (Again y’all use your imagination because I’m not good at writing smut) “Do you want me to taste you?” You ask.

“Over course I do, but today is all about my girl” my girl you loved the sound of that as he began to clean you up. He finished and layed down beside you. He looks you in they eyes and you could both tell what the other was thinking “How am I so lucky”. Now everyone who made assumptions before we’re right now. You were dating and you were HIS GIRL

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #joseph quinn

[insidiousintentions]

TCM: GITL 3

This is the first posting of a story on tumblr. I hope everything works out well. It is going to be for sure NSFW in some places. Absolutely 18+ You know the story and how the family works. Don’t be mad, we all know what you came here for to read. Don’t be upset because of something silly. It is not an x reader story, my brain can’t function that way, I’m sorry.

Let me know how it is... Please.. Q~Q

Part Three

Despite the incident happening in the back seat, Hank continued on driving well above the speed limit. Even the small change from the road to a small town, he disregarded it, making it home as fast as he could. “Alright gentlemen, dinner is on me at my place. You know where to visit.”

The radio cracked and a solid booming voice was overheard, “Bowen, you best better not have anyone in your truck besides you and your boys.”

“Nah, sheriff. That’ll be a 10-10, sir. After all, we jus’ headin’ on home. Wen’ and took them boys fishin’. We caught some nice, thick, meaty ones. I can share once we done cookin’ if you like.”

“I will not be tasting anything you’re offering unless you’re in cuffs and in the back of my squad car begging me for sanctuary. Hank Bowen, this is gotta be the end of it. Now, answer me. Do you have a woman in your vehicle?”

“No, Sir. I don’ see any ladies here.”

Catching everyone by surprise, Iris blurted out at the top of her lungs, “10-67, Code 2: 209, 261, Henry, Edward, Lincoln, Paul!” Iris made eye contact with Hank driving the truck, his jaw down past his knees in shock. “Hotel, Echo, Lima, Papa!”

Before Hank had a chance to release his hand from the record button, Junior had profanities flying out of his mouth as quickly as a punch had landed to Iris’s left eye. The voice rang through again from the radio, this time chatter in the background was heard, “Hank, that sounded like a woman if you ask me. Now, I’ll be heading towards your place and we can sort things out.”

“How abou’ dis? I come over and pay yer wife a visit. See what she thinks of a real man takin’ her to bed. Oh, I jus’ know she won’ be able to take ev’ry last inch of me. Now, get off our channel Howard.” Hank was redder than the inside of a watermelon, steam could’ve been rolling out from his ears. “Get a hold of that woman boy, or she gonna say hi to momma for us.”

More static graced the atmosphere of the truck, and  the sheriff spoke again. “That’s Sheriff Duvall to you, Hank. This isn’t some school thing anymore. I’m on my way after you right now. So let’s cut the crap and you turn yourself in.”

“Over my dead body! I’m not listenin’ to another damn thing ya have to say Howard.” In order to do that, Hank took a band and wrapped it around the button, fully recording the rest of anything happening in the truck. “Boy, fuckin’ punch her again. We’ll drive out till we die. Fuckin’ make me a grandkid or I’m not goin’ home. The only way I’m goin’ anywhere wit a cop is if I’m dead! So, fuck you.”

“As you wish…” In the shooken states of the two boys, and the space where Hank couldn’t stop Iris, she had reached to her boot that was hidden away by Hank pulling out a bone carved blade. There were no solid words from her besides a yell. Along with the yell were Hank junior’s screams in pain.

“You fuckin’ bitch!” He recoiled, his body being released from any contact with her, now sobbing, the man looked up to Iris, her eyes glaring and her face seething with pure rage. “You jus’ cut my fucking dick off!” His own face soured, but turned into terror when Iris flipped rolls, now positioning her bloodied thighs over top of Junior. 

Leaning into him, she pressed the blade to his temple, “I’ll make you just as pretty as me then. Not only will you ever fuck a bitch again, you’ll never show your face again!” The ongoing listeners were astounded at the events happening. None of them expected anything like this to be heard over their radios, but nonetheless they continued to listen on in. Again, the older sheriff listening took to showcasing a smile as he drove now closer to the north taking back roads to cross county lines. Screams from Junior froze Preston in his seat, his eyes scarred from the sight of his brother’s bloodied mess of a crotch. Iris caught her breath, and before she could think of anything else, a twisted thought ran through her mind. The idea of it amusing her enough to do such a thing regardless. “Eat this.” With pulling what remains of the man’s cock from within her body, Iris used her blade to pry open Junior’s mouth, his sobs begging and pleading for her to stop. His pleas fell on deaf ears, as Iris shoved the entire length down into Junior’s throat finally after the third punch to the jagged cut off end. 

Hank tried to cough, soon enough his face turned shades of a sunset as he was gagging and choking on his own dick. Looking over to Preston, the boy had already opened the door, fight or flight response lending him aid to escape the driving vehicle. The boy’s body caused a plume of smoke to erupt where he landed. The driver of the truck looked over to see his son flee, his own worried state now startling him enough to look over towards Iris and his son. Seeing the blood staining his back seat, the man’s fatherly instincts found its way into his horrible being enough to try and protect his son, despite it being too late. The crying mess of a son in the back seat was shrouded by Iris as she carved lines into his skin down to his chest. Being so distracted by her work, Iris didn’t stand a chance as her golden blonde locks were pulled taut. Hank used all his force, yanking the now attacker into the front and away from his choking son. Whatever he thought he could do changed once the nimble body of Iris crawled through to the middle seat of the truck gaining footing enough to hold herself firm, reaching for a seat belt as quickly as she could and wrapped her lower body inside of the piece. The scream coming from Iris as Hank pulled on her hair once again startled listeners from all around. 

With dagger in hand, sharpness matching Iris’s eyes and her few teeth, she smiled, showcasing them to the man. “You’re a fuckin’ monster!”

“We’re in Texas dumbass. Mess with the horns and you get the Devil.” Within a lightning strike of time, Iris had bit into the man’s shoulder, a scream that made some listeners sick as he hollered. Once again the sheriff listening in on the mess, cruising on into the county smiled. His cold eyes shifted towards his radio and a snicker escaped. His mind liked the screams of the guy. It excited him if not aroused him. 

Another scream and a wail came from Hank. His flailing knocked the pick up from drive to neutral, forcing them to slow down enough to not be driving as erratically as they once were. Crying was heard, this time begging as well as his son had done before. Hank cried out for help, pleading for someone to save him before screaming, agony making the man even pass out as Iris carved into his face as well. 

Before anything could happen, Iris tucked herself into the leg space of the passenger seat, hanging onto her things and the Model 94 rifle from the dash. Iris had seen that ahead on the road, at the county line sat a row of squad cars. With the portly man driving in the way of finding the break, Iris instead braced for impact. Her mind slipped into other thoughts of what was going to happen when they found her.

A fit of coughing brought her back to her senses, she looked up to see Hank with his head leaning over top of her. Instead his son Junior had dislodged his own dick from his mouth and began coughing for air. The burn in his eyes and throat made his voice harsh to use, but he managed enough to yell at his father to watch out. Now being startled, Hank sat up, his head hurting and confused as he saw the police before him. With only time to slam on the breaks, forty yards before the vehicles lay a line of spikes to pop his tires. As the truck kept on down the road, the spikes did indeed find their target, popping both of the passenger side tires as he passed over. The motion of this caused the truck to lurch to the side and roll over twice before landing upside down. People started to surround the crumpled up metal. 

Hank lay hollering out in pain, his body smashed onto his upper, leaving him without much room to move around unlike the leaner frame of Iris. She kicked her bags out of the window, took the rifle and what she found of ammo in the glove box after shimmying herself out of the passenger side. 

“Ma’am? Ma’am lay down the weapon, and we are going to help you.”

Letting out an exasperated scream, rocked herself on her knees a moment putting her things in order and to the side. Looking up towards the sky for one last time, tears made their way down her cheeks, taking dirt with them as they trailed down her face. Iris laid down on her stomach, holding her hands up and over her head before she was even asked to do so. Officers saw her actions and immediately started to help her to her feet, a couple of them bringing her items along with them when they started to guide her towards the vehicles they had waiting and ready for the perpetrators. 

An officer kelt down as Iris sat in the back seat of his vehicle, “Miss, you don’t have to say anything right now. You’re probably in shock. We are going to get you to town and get you some medical attention. Do you have anything else in the pick up?” 

Iris shook her head, her eyes never leaving the ground. In her boot kept the dagger, still bloodied, but not going to be noticed by the authorities. The mess along her body scared many onlookers, more for the thought of what had happened than her well-being. A few people would go up to her, offer assistance and words of advice and encouragement, “You were so brave,” “That was a complete mess you survived,” “You were so strong,” “I can’t believe you made it out of there,” “Maybe you shouldn’t hitchhike like that again.”

Frozen, the deadpan stare of Iris met the eyes to stoic men, only for their tails to retreat, “I wasn’t hitchhiking. They kidnapped me. I don’t own a vehicle, so I walk. I’m not looking for favors or sympathy. If I did that, then my family would roll in their graves.”

Shortly after the deputy’s apology, the sheriff, older, middle-aged man, the same voice from the radio earlier, “Miss, I’m Sheriff Howard Duvall. I’ll have one of my deputies here take you in town. I’ll have to question you and make sure a lady as yourself is in a sound of mind before I let you go anywhere. The scene in that truck looks rather, erm, gruesome. To say the least I suppose. But, I am quite curious how you know those codes? And civilian and military alphabets.”

“It get easy when that’s all you learned growing up. Either helping pa with… Certain duties, or granpa out at the jail. Be it cleaning the floors or guns. Hell, I would pick up calls and tell them where to go when I was just ten.” The straightening of her chest and shoulders took the others by surprise, as Iris stood up straighter, her smaller looking body was not that. Standing five foot seven, she carried herself as if she were a force to be reckoned with, and that she was. Her eyes darted to a squad car pulling up, people rushing to help the broken armed boy, his wails in pain only making Iris’s nostril’s flare. 

The sheriff watched as the younger of the brothers nearly screamed like a girl seeing Iris. Everyone watched as the man kicked and flailed his one good arm, wincing when his other arm dangled. Fear was driven through his bones more than a nail could ever hope to damage. He tried to run away upon seeing her, only to be caught and ushered into a different vehicle. Nobody cared to listen to his rambles, begging for safety as Iris only let out a small smile shortly before licking her teeth at him. Her canines were more pronounced along with the next tooth towards the center also looking to be her canine. Her sharpened teeth were made on purpose, they helped her tear into meat she would cook on the side of the road, such a simple thing that would scare anyone face to face with her. 

“Kill her! She’s the real monster here! Kill that bitch!”

They called her a monster, and that she became.

#tcm #tcm the beginning #tcm 2006 #tcm 2003 #texaschainsawmassacre #Thomas Hewitt #leatherface x reader #Leatherface

[mouse-fantoms]

EVERYONE THIS IS NOT A DRILL WE WON THREE EMMYS 😭😭😭

#the fact that we were even nominated EIGHT times is unbelievable in and of itself #NETFLIX BEEN REAL QUIET SINCE WE WON #all ya gotta say is ‘this band is back’ and then we’ll be off your ass about it #the moment you say those 4 beautiful words... that will be a moment #tbh I do feel a bit salty that we didn’t win the best casting award but like WHATEVER I GUESS #julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp netflix #jatp fandom #jatpsongs #netflixwewantjatp2 #netflixwewantjatps2 #netflixwewantjatpseason2 #renew jatp #jatp julie #julie jatp #julie molina #jatp luke #luke jatp #luke patterson #jatp alex #alex jatp #alex mercer #jatp reggie #reggie jatp #reggie peters #jatp cast #kenny ortega #owen joyner #owen patrick joyner

[marlena-immortale]

Oh Mammamia

Summary: You’re the makeup artist on set for Måneskin’s nude photoshoot and things get a little heated after the shoot. 

CW: SMUT, group sex, oral sex, penatrative sex, anal sex, daisy chain, also oil is used as lube but oil can break down condoms so don’t use oil as lube in real life!

Word Count: 3.2k

You were setting up your makeup station and getting out the many bottles of oil you were instructed to bring when your clients walked in. You knew of them through their music but had never worked with them before. 

“Hi guys! I’m y/n, I’ll be your makeup artist for the shoot. I got the reference pictures from your manager,” you explain as they settle in.

“Can I start?” Damiano asks, a mischievous look in his eyes. Actually, they all seem to look a bit mischievous and playful. You start applying Damiano’s makeup as the rest of the band whisper to each other, laughing at inside jokes. You catch a few about what poses they think will be best and which the fans will find the sexiest. Damiano hears that too and can’t help but chime in.

“Well we’re already gonna be naked, I don’t think we can be much sexier than that,” he says, sending a wink their way.

“There’s always more room for sexy,” Vic responds, making a show of running her hand down Thomas’s torso as an example. You laugh at her theatrics and get back to Damiano’s makeup.

“So, ever done makeup for a nude shoot before?” Damiano asks, a curious smirk on his face. 

“I have… But I can't say I’ve done one with so much body oil involved,” you say, returning the smirk. 

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

Once you get through everyone’s makeup, it’s time to ruin your masterpieces by smearing oil all over them, as well as all over the rest of their bodies while you’re at it. This part you’ll admit you’re a bit nervous about, never out loud of course though. They are all very attractive people that you’re about to have your hands all over, gliding smoothly with the help of the oil-

You’re taken out of your little daydream by the sound of the dressing room door opening. You look up to find all four band members walking in completely nude. You can’t seem to take your eyes off of Vic’s perfect hips and the way her rosaries rest right below her sternum, or how Damiano’s tattoos look under the hair on his chest and thighs, or how Ethan’s long smooth hair cascades beautifully down his toned arms and chest, or the way Thomas’s pretty hips lead straight to his mess of hair on top of what you assume is the reason for his er cobra nickname and you can understand why. 

“Pick your jaw back up off the floor babe, you still gotta oil us up,” Vic says, walking over to you, the boys following behind her. You’re taken out of your thoughts once again, silently reprimanding yourself for how unprofessional you’re being. You laugh it off, trying to make it seem like a joke, even though the way your body is responding to seeing them naked is anything but a joke. 

“Me first!” Thomas excitedly says, standing right in front of you with a smile. 

“Ya think Thomas is into this? The oil ya know?” Vic asks.

“Ooh maybe we’ll have to find out later,” Damiano responds, messing with Thomas’s hair as a blush grows on his face hearing himself be talked about like that. 

“Don’t listen to those idiots,” Ethan chimes in before walking off with the rest of them. You pick up the bottle of oil and pour some into your hand, warming it up before realizing this will be much easier if he was sitting. You ask him to sit on the chair in front of you and start spreading the oil on his face, making sure to get it everywhere but to not mess with the makeup too much. You slide your hands from his cheeks down to his neck, realizing he opened his big eyes and they’re staring up right at you. You can feel your own cheeks heat up at the attention and you can feel his heartbeat quicken as you reach his chest, spreading the oil over to his shoulders. When you get to his nipples, you hear a little gasp escape his pretty lips that goes straight to your pussy, not that you weren’t already unfathomably wet. Your oiled fingers reach further down and get to his lower stomach, going to just above where his hair starts before moving swiftly on to his hips. You politely ignore the increasingly present fact that he’s starting to get a little hard and instead look at his face where you can see his lower lip caught between his teeth. 

“Okay, I’m done,” you tell him with a smile. “Who’s next?”

“My turn. This’ll be fun,” Vic says, her eyes running over your figure. She sits down and you immediately get to work. After doing her face and neck, you reach her beautiful tits, gently smoothing the oil over them until she gives you a devious smirk and pushes her chest into your hand so you’re gripping her breast a bit more. 

“I was right, this is fun,” Vic says, running her finger down your thigh, just under the hem of your shorts. 

“Stop torturing our makeup artist Vic,” Ethan shouts across the room. You didn’t even realize they were paying attention, too busy with being enthralled with the goddess in front of you.

“Oh c’mon are you not having fun? I’ll stop if you want me too,” she tells you and you realize it’s your turn to speak.

“No, it’s ok. I like it,” you reassure her and she smiles, the little strokes of her finger on your thigh turning into her whole hand kneading the flesh there, her thumb dipping into the bottom of your shorts as you attempt to finish your job of oiling her body. 

Once you're done with her, Ethan is now in your chair smiling politely at you. You oil him up, letting your hands travel over his arms and feeling him flex under your touch. Your fingers sliding so easily over his abs definitely has an effect on you. You go as far down as you did on Thomas and Vic, which is considerably far, before he speaks up.

“You can go a little further. I know they’re gonna have me in some revealing poses,” he quietly explains to you. You nod, definitely still blushing, and bring your hands even lower down the line between his lower stomach and his thigh. You look up at him to make sure it’s ok before you continue. He gives you a nod and you smooth the oil into his inner thigh, as close as you can get without touching his dick, even though your fingers accidentally may have brushed against it. 

You have to take a breath after finishing up and by the time you compose yourself, Damiano is already there.

“I’m ready to get lubed up,” he says with his signature smirk. 

 “It’s oil not lube,” you say back, showing him you can play his game too. 

“Both make things slippery and easy to slide around… and in,” he says, emphasizing his point by placing your oiled hands on his chest and dragging them all the way down before changing course at the last second to his thighs. He sends you a challenging look, seeing what your next move is. Your thoughts of professionalism are out the window, knowing you can’t turn down a challenge. You grip his thigh harshly, digging your nails in a little and scratching them up till you get to where his kiss tattoo is. Damiano rolls his hips forward and lets his eyes fall shut, giving you a shaky moan. 

“Is Damiano being a slut again?” you hear Vic scream across the room, clearly hearing Damiano’s moan. 

“I’m y/n’s slut now,” he says, looking you straight in the eyes, pulling you by the thighs to bring you between his spread legs. 

You barely make it through oiling him up when the rest of the band comes over and starts teasing you while you try to clean up your makeup station.

   “So what do ya think y/n? Do you wanna play around with us after the shoot?” Ethan asks while Thomas’s long fingers reach all the way over your ribs, rubbing over your shirt. 

“That sounds fun,” you say, feeling a little lightheaded already with all of their attention on you. 

“Do you like the idea of all of our hands on you, making you feel good?” Vic asks, her own hands moving to your hips, grabbing them roughly. 

“Yes, please,” you respond, placing one of your hands on Ethan’s chest and the other on Daminao’s hip, summoning them both close to you. Feeling extremely turned on with them encasing you, hands starting to explore each other before you hear the photographer enter the room. He says nothing about what he’s witnessed and doesn’t even look all that shocked as he watches them all untangle themselves from you, going to get in position for the shoot. 

“See you after the shoot baby,” Damiano says with a wink before walking away.

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

You watch them lay on and touch each other for the rest of the shoot, only having to touch up the body oil every once in a while. The rest of the time you let your mind wander to what it’ll be like when they’re done and you get to play with them. All the things you just know their beautiful hands and bodies can do to you. You’re surprised you’re not soaking through your shorts by this point. 

By the time you’ve constructed a full fantasy in your head, they’re done shooting and Thomas is already dragging you to the dressing room, desperate for you and your touch back on him. The rest of the band follows you both and shuts the door behind you. Thomas wastes no time peeling your clothes off, starting with your t-shirt. 

“Calm down baby, let her take a breath before we destroy her,” Vic tells Thomas and you notice Ethan opening up a bottle of oil and pouring some into his own hands before spreading it onto your newly exposed back and shoulders. 

“Now you can be all slippery and shiny like us. It feels good huh?” Damiano teases. 

“Mhm, it feels really nice,” you say, while relaxing into Ethan’s massaging touch. Thomas continues on his path of getting you undressed while Vic encourages him by running her hands over his slippery arms. You’ve lost track of Damiano and look over to find him, seeing that he’s made himself useful by getting some more oil, getting on his knees, and beginning to rub it into your thighs after Thomas finishes undressing you. Damiano shoves Thomas’s hands away so he can have your hips all to himself.

“Just as bratty as ever,” Thomas retorts, rolling his eyes but secretly loving how greedy he is. Damiano drags you to the floor with him, leaning you against the couch, before spreading your legs open and diving in to taste you. You gasp at the feeling of his wet tongue caressing your pussy, the soft tip nudging gently at your clit. You see Vic come to your side and you lean forward to kiss her pretty lips. She cuddles up to your side, her leg over Damiano’s back as your hand wanders down to Vic’s pussy, letting your fingers glide over the oil and into her clit. Looking up, you see Vic’s hand reach over to touch Ethan’s hardening cock. There’s already so much going on that when Thomas starts touching and pinching your nipples, you shudder and let out a desperate whine, wanting even more. 

Deciding it’s time to give Thomas some attention, you shift onto your stomach to put your lips on Thomas’s cock, playing with the tip with your tongue, sliding it along his slit and all the way down the thick vein running along the underside. He bites his lip, trying and failing to conceal the whiny noises he’s making. You stare at the pretty boy while sucking him off and Vic starts kissing his open mouth and whispering to him what a good boy he’s being while running her hands through the slick oil on his chest. 

Realizing the nice feeling of Damiano’s tongue on you has been replaced by Thomas’s long fingers, you can hear moans coming from your right side so you look over to see the beautiful sight of Damiano on his back, pulling at Ethan’s hair and writhing around as Ethan’s tongue prods and laps at his hole. He looks you right in the eyes while letting out a loud groan, his exhibitionist inclinations coming out. He shifts his eyeline to Vic and calls her over to him.

“Vic, please. Will you stretch me out please? I need you so bad,” Damiano begs. 

“Attention whore,” Vic remarks with a smirk, making her way over to the singer. She grabs more of the body oil and pours some out onto her fingers. Ethan makes room for her and decides to turn his attention towards you instead. He peels you away from Thomas’s dick and lays you down, teasing your neck with kisses and sucks and pinching your nipples to hear you whine for him. 

Vic is already two fingers deep inside of Damiano when Ethan finally has his tip lined up with your entrance. You desperately want him inside you now, the buildup of today being too much for your body. You try to bring him in by pulling on his hips but you don’t get very far before he has both your wrists locked in his big hands up on either side of your head. He’s done taking his time with you and quickly pushes all the way in. You can’t help but throw your head back and let out a loud moan in unison with Damiano’s moan as Vic massages his insides with her talented fingers. 

You notice Thomas shyly touching himself out of the corner of your eye so you beckon the embarrassed boy over to touch him yourself. Ethan releases one of your hands in favor of rubbing circles on your clit. You slide your newly released hand down Thomas’s length, the oil helping you along, as he kneels obediently next to you. Turning your attention back to the man fucking you into the floor, you manage to send him the message that you’re close without having to form any words, which your brain almost certainly is not capable of right now. He gets the idea and slides himself out of you with a grunt. Vic takes her fingers out of Damiano and Ethan manhandles his body to drag him over to you and Thomas. 

“Can you be a good boy for us and fuck y/n while I fuck you? Can you last long enough, puppy, or will it be too much for your sensitive little body?” Ethan taunts Damiano as he positions him between your legs. A fresh new wave of wetness greets him. You had no idea such filthy words were capable of coming out of such sweet lips. 

“Yes. Yes I promise I’ll be good. I promise,” Damiano begs. His wish is granted when Ethan’s hard cock pushes itself into him as he falls forward, moaning with his face burrowed in your neck. Ethan’s first thrust forces Damiano’s hips flush with yours. Damiano is already overwhelmed, feeling so filled up with Ethan and his own cock buried deep inside your wet walls, sandwiched between two sexy oiled bodies. It takes a few thrusts for all three of you to be on the same rhythm, but once you all become in sync with one another, it’s ecstasy. A symphony of moans and whimpers and gasps can be heard all throughout the studio. 

Not wanting to be left out of the fun, Thomas lays down right next to you, his head on your chest, licking at your nipples as your hand wanders down his body. You let your fingers wrap around him and stroke him firmly, his little kitten licks on your nipple turning into sucking and nipping. Vic joins in too, swinging a leg over you and straddling your head, facing the boys. She carefully lowers herself onto your mouth, but you’re not in the mood for careful. You use your free hand to pull her the rest of the way down and let your tongue explore her dripping folds. She gasps and grinds down onto your face as your tongue pushes itself into her. 

Damiano can’t resist helping out with a beautiful glistening pussy right in front of his face so he sticks his own tongue out and licks at anywhere he can get to whenever Ethan’s thrusts push him into you. He manages to get a consistent pattern of licking Vic’s clit while you shove your tongue along all the sensitive parts inside of her, the tip of your nose rubbing gently against the rim of her asshole. You feel Thomas shift to be able to makeout with Vic as she rides your face and you’re all making loud noises from all the pleasure that is going around. 

“Fuck Dami, you feel so good,” Ethan says as he grabs your hip as leverage to pound Damiano into you with all the strength he has left.  Damiano has succumbed to the pleasure and is now a pliable weight on top of you, letting himself be moved in and out by Ethan. Vic is biting at Thomas’s neck as he thrusts into your hand. You’re so overwhelmed by everything that you reach your climax sooner than you thought you would. You want to warn them but Vic’s pussy covering your mouth is preventing you from doing so. You scream out as Ethan uses Damiano’s body to fuck him into you hard and the vibrations your moans cause go straight into Vic as she cums onto yours and Damiano’s tongues. 

Not long after, Thomas lets himself go, his cum shooting out onto your face. You lick up what you can, letting the rest of it drip down your cheek. Damiano is the next to let the tension building in him snap as he cums deep inside of you, whimpering on your chest, his cock twitching. One final thrust from Ethan and he’s cumming too, unable to stop himself after watching everyone else reach their peaks so beautifully. For a moment, you’re all frozen in your post-bliss states, just breathing heavily, trying to catch your breaths and holding onto each other. 

Vic is first to move, lifting her shaking body off of you and cuddling up between you and Thomas. Ethan gently pulls himself out of Damiano and has to move Damiano’s limp and whining body out of you before they both collapse on top of you, Vic, and Thomas in an oily sweaty mess. Everyone is tired and satiated and so relaxed now.

“So y/n, how do you feel about being our touring makeup artist?” Vic asks.

“Well if this is what goes on after every show, I’ll happily be there,” you say, sending a wink in her direction.

#maneskin #maneskin smut #maneskin fanfic #maneskin x reader #damiano david #damiano david smut #damiano david x reader #damiano david fanfiction #victoria de angelis #victoria de angelis fanfic #victoria de angelis x reader #victoria de angelis smut #ethan torchio #ethan torchio smut #ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio fanfic #thomas raggi #thomas raggi smut #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi fanfic

[theydjarin]

Audio of the Hoth rescue scene from the 1983 ESB radio play, featuring some really great Han & Luke dialogue 

Luke: So what’s your excuse this time? Han: ...for what? Luke: For coming out after me. I guess you can’t claim it was the money this time. Han: Well, ah. I’ll figure something out, Luke. Luke: I bet you will. 😏

Full transcript under the cut:

Han: Chewie? Hey, Chewie! You got the Falcon fixed yet? We’re getting this snowball right now before they close the shield door for the night.

Chewie: Argh?

Han: Because I’m sick of this planet, that’s why! Because Jabba’s hunting for our heads. Now warm her up and let’s raise ship.

Chewie: Aghh!

Han: WHAT?!

Chewie: Agh aghhh

Han: You took what apart?! What are you doing fine-turning the hyper drive now? Look at that mess, are you crazy?

Chewie: Ahhhhhhhhhhgghhhhhhhhhh

Han: Okay okay calm down, we still got a little while before they shut the shield door. You close up the vector guides, I’ll put the transition rig back together.

Chewie: Aghh

Han: All I want to do is get us out of here, Chewie, now put her back together the best way you can. Just so they’ll get us to our next stop.

Chewie: Aughhh

Han: Who? Her royalness? Never what she said. Remind me to tell you sometime about hob-knobbing with the other classes, it’s such fun! Oh, great, it’s just what we needed, here come the loose wiring brothers. What are you doing, Chewie? Are you a saboteur?? You think I want to spend the rest of my life here for face--

C3PO: Captain Solo--

Han: Listen, Chewie, those vector guides will do for now. Just get em back in place and tighten up the hole. I don’t want em perfect, I don’t want em pretty, I want em NOW!

C3PO: Princess Leia has been trying to get you on the comlink--

Han: Whoa whoa there. What’d you say, Threepio?

C3PO: I was attempting to draw your attention to the fact that the Princess Leia has been trying to reach you by comlink now for some consid-

Han: I turned my comlink off, I don’t want to talk to her anymore, it’s bad for my disposition.

C3PO: Indeed. Oh, well, Artoo and I are to inform you that the Princess Leia is worried about Master Luke. She doesn’t know where he is.

Han: Well, I don’t know where he is.

C3PO: Nobody knows where he is.

Han: What do you mean nobody knows? He was only a couple of minutes behind me when I rode in.

C3PO: Well you see sir--

Han: Deck officer, deck officer, come here will ya!

C3PO: Excuse me, sir, but might I inquire as to whether you intend to organize a-- mmph!

Han: Will you shut up for a sec?

Deck Officer: Sir, what can I do for you?

Han: You can tell me where Commander Skywalker is.

Deck Officer: I haven’t seen him. Is that droid malfunctioning, sir?

Han: Not anymore than usual.

Deck Officer: Then why are you holding your hand over its vocal swath?

Han: He’s got a cough. Now what about Luke?

Deck Officer: Commander Skywalker hasn’t come through the main shield door, it’s possible he came in through the south entrance.

Han: It’s possible? It’s possible? Why don’t you just go find out whether it really happened, huh?

Deck Officer: Very well, Captain, as soon as I get the rest of your--

Han: It’s getting dark out there, friend, and cold, in case you didn’t notice.

Deck Officer: I’m aware of that. I joined up with the rebels because I notice things. I’ll go and check on the Commander at once.

Han: Okay, yeah yeah, look, hey, thanks, pal.

R2D2: [angry beeping]

Han: Huh? Oh, sure, Artoo. Sorry, Threepio.

C3PO: Thank you, Captain Solo. Although there was really no need for that, I’m sure. And might I now inquire what has happened to Master Luke.

Han: Well you just go ahead and inquire all you like, Threepio, it never does any good around this deep freeze.

C3PO: Well!

Han: Seal her up, Chewie, I’ll be right back.

C3PO: Really, Artoo, have you ever met such an impossible man? Come along, let’s find the Princess Leia and tell her what’s happened. This is what we get for allowing Master Luke go off on his own, without us to look after him.

Chewie: Aghh ahhhg!

C3PO: Yes, Chewbacca, of course we shall keep you informed of any new developments. Between ourselves, Artoo, I think Master Luke is in considerable danger.

[scene break]

Han: What’d you find out? Where is he?

Deck Officer: Sir, Commander Skywalker hasn’t come in the south entrance either. No one’s heard from him since his last communication check with you.

Han: Well he was clear up on the ridge line then!

Deck Officer: He might’ve forgotten to check in.

Han: Luke? No, where he grew up, people learn to be careful. I’m going looking for him.

Deck Officer: But Captain Solo!

Han: Have the techs got those snow speeders working? I’d use the Falcon but she’s on downtime right now.

Deck Officer: The snow speeders aren’t ready yet. We’ve been having all kinds of trouble adapting them to the cold. The techs are running up a bunch of replacement parts, they should be ready by morning.

Han: Well, morning ain’t likely to do Commander Skywalker very much good, is it? Isn’t there anything in this whole base that’ll fly?

Deck Officer: Nothing that can handle a Hoth blizzard, sir. Those winds would smash you down before you got halfway--

Han: Alright, alright, forget it, I’ll have to ride out and look for him on a tauntaun. Come on, move it, we haven’t got much time.

Deck Officer: Captain Solo! General Riken gave orders no one’s to leave the base!

Han: This one over here will have to do, it’s still saddled.

Deck Officer: Captain Solo!

Han: Tell the command center that I’ll keep in touch with them over comlink band alpha.

Deck Officer: Sir! General Riken doesn’t want anyone leaving the base!

Han: Lieutenant.

Deck Officer: Sir.

Han: Lieutenant. What did you just call me?

Deck Officer: Sir?

Han: Right. Now get outta my way.

Deck Officer: But the temperature’s dropping too rapidly. Even a tauntaun couldn’t survive for long!

Han: Yeah, my friend’s out there someplace, and I’m giving you a direct order to make it easy for ya, so don’t waste my time!

Deck Officer: I’m afraid I can’t let you do this, Captain Solo! I have my standing orders.

Han: Lieutenant, have you ever seen my first mate? ‘bout, uh,  three times your size, covered in fur, got a bad temper?  

Deck Officer: Everybody in the base knows Chewbacca, sir.

Han: Uh huh. Well if you or anybody else tries to stop me from riding that tauntaun outta here, Chewie’s gonna take it real bad.

Deck Officer: But General Riken has clearly instructed me that no one--

Han: Do you think General Riken wants a quarter of a ton of roaring mad Wookie running around this base?

Deck Officer: I’m reasonably certain that he doesn’t, sir.

Han: Smart boy. Now, stand aside!

Deck Officer: I’m trying to save your life! Your tauntaun will freeze before you reach the first marker. Even with an insulated suit, if you’re on foot out there, you’re dead.

Han: THEN I’LL SEE YOU IN HELL! Hyah!

[scene break]

Luke: Ughhh. Ughhhhhh. Dagobah. Dagobah!

Han: Luke!

Luke: What?

Han: Luke!

Luke: Ben?

Han: Luke! Whoa, girl, whoa, hold on. Luke! Speak to me, kid. Here, come on, sit up.

Luke: Ben? Han? Han!

Han: Yeah, it’s me, kid, it’s me.

Luke: It’s cold. Han. So cold. I’m warmer.

Han: Warmer? No, Luke, that means you’re freezing. Fight it, come on! Don’t go to sleep on me. Don’t do this to me, Luke. Come on, give me a sign here. Luke. Stay with me. Stay with me, kid.

Tauntaun: [death noises]

Han: Oh no, girl, don’t you give me problems too. The tauntaun’s dead, Luke. Where’s your lightsaber. I need it.

Luke: Ben! Yoda--

Han: There’s not much time. There’s only one way to keep you warm until I get the emergency shelter. [lightsaber zuup] I’m sorry about this, old girl. Okay, Luke, I’m going to have to shove you inside the carcass.

Luke: Dagobah!

Han: This may smell bad, kid, but it’ll keep you alive until I can get the shelter built. And I thought these tauntauns smelled bad on the outside.

[scene break]

Han: Hold still, Luke, I gotta give you a stim shot. There, that oughta take hold and bring you around in a second or two. This is Solo to base. Solo to base. Command center, I don’t know if you can read me, but I’ve got Luke. He’s alive but my tauntaun’s down for good. We’re in an emergency shelter. Do you copy? The storm’s kicking up pretty bad. I don’t know if this hut can take it. Just come for us as soon as you can. I’ve got the homing beacon on. Do your best for us, you guys.

Luke: Han...

Han: Lay quiet, Luke. Come on, there’s not much room in here.

Luke: Han, I can’t see!

Han: You’re snowblind, Luke, but it’ll pass. We’ll get you taken care of soon, I promise. And keep that thermal wrapped around you, we gotta warm you up a little at a time.

Luke: Han... it would be you. How’d you find me?

Han: Snoozing in the snow, that’s how I found you.

Luke: Nice going. You have some sense of timing is all. Where are we?

Han: Emergency shelter. North side of the glacier field.

Luke: You think this thing’s gonna hold up?

Han: Well. I’m sort of hoping for the best, buddy.

Luke: We sure picked a great time to field test it, huh?

Han: Haha, yeah, perfect. How ya feeling?

Luke: Oh... terrific. Why don’t we go outside and get some calisthenics in before it gets too dark?

Han: Sure. Heh. We could always play some tag.

Luke: Hehe. Oh... How’d you get out here?

Han: Tauntaun. There wasn’t any other way. She didn’t make it, though.

Luke: So we’re here til the weather breaks.

Han: Yeah, that���s about it.

Luke: I can’t feel my legs. I’m numb!

Han: You’re gonna be okay. There’s not a lot more I can do for you with a medikit. But they’ll put you through nerve therapy and float you in a regenerative tank and you’ll be as good as new.

Luke: Too bad the nearest one’s a couple kilometers away through a blizzard-

Han: No more talking like that. You’re gonna make it, ya hear? What happened to your face? You look like you walked into a rotor blade.

Luke: Oh. It’s a wampa. Ice creature jumped me on the ridge and killed my tauntaun.

Han: How very rude! as Threepio would say. I hope you killed it right back.

Luke: Well, it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Whew. What smells so bad in here?

Han: Hehehe. You. You spent a little time inside my tauntaun while I was having a house raising party.

Luke: Well I guess you can cancel all my social engagements for the evening. So what’s your excuse this time?

Han: Huh? …for what?

Luke: For coming out after me. I guess you can’t claim it was the money this time.

Han: Well, ah. I’ll figure something out, Luke.

Luke: I bet you will. 😏

Han: This hut’s gonna hold, Luke, and you’re gonna make it.

Luke: I only wish I could’ve seen Leia. Said goodbye one last time.

Han: I got an idea, pal. Why don’t you just settle down and relax, and tomorrow you can say hello to her instead.

#han solo #luke skywalker #skysolo #star wars #empire strikes back #hanluke #i couldn't find this on tumblr so thought i'd upload it #love the role reversal of han being optimistic and luke being skeptical #and han being So Soft with luke #i might try to do a transcript this weekend!!

[frosted-night]

Jack Frost Designs Review

Yes it’s finally his time. This is going to include his book designs including previous incarnations in said books. There are more movie concept designs than book so, let’s dig in shall we?

This was in fact the first ever Jack Joyce designed while he came up with The Guardians Of Childhood. He even comes with his own backstory! (Which was cut. Sorry Joyce posts walls of text so it’s a girthy read.)

So instead of a young mischievous trickster, we got a much more depressing story of Jack. (Jack by default is sad obviously) but this one... It kind of hits differently and almost reminds me of the story he crafted for Pitch. A dad who tried to defend his family but through tragic events was ripped from them and changed completely. Design wise, he’s a lot more tree than snow. There doesn’t exist a colored version of this so we’ll never know if he sported winter and dull dead leaf colors rather than grassy greens.This Jack has a weird presence to him, I can’t put my finger on it. Rating: 6/10 He’s really neat! Just a little too Autumn feeling rather than a blend of both Autumn and Winter.

Nightlight feels like the baby evolution if Jack was a pokemon and that's what I’m gonna stick with. Below is a more recent version of him colored.

In all honesty that one is easier on the eyes proportion wise because sometimes Joyce has ‘interesting’ anatomy choices but we aint going into that today. It’s interesting how his hair somehow looks shorter and longer than Jack’s at the same time. Could be because the longer strands float seamlessly but star boy hair physics what can ya do. It’s a little hard to tell what is his skin and what is his armor, so that is a casuality in making a character only have one or two colors in their color scheme. I love other artist’s depictions of Nightlight but the canon one feels a little weak color wise. Rating: 5/10 Sorry, get some better LEDs and then come back.

Here we have a book Jack but I can’t entirely recall if this was used in the books or not. I digress. This design looks like him still wearing very Nightlight-esque armor/clothing and slowly growing into his new persona as Jack Frost. The intricacies are hard to make out but we’ll work with it. This one is very interesting to me because he very much looks like an older teen close to young adult. His hair looks very fluffy too. Not many complaints about this one but not much praise either.

Rating: 6/10 Not great but doesn’t stand out that much.

Remember when I said Joyce had ‘interesting’ anatomy decisions? Jack looks like he has half a head here and it bothers me GREATLY. This is the adult Jack design he went with. Supposedly he likes the opera and he sure looks it. This! Exists!! Kind of wish it didn’t. The outfit is nice but it just doesn’t fit Jack as a whole. This just screams to me that it’s someone else with a similar-ish hairstyle.

Rating: 3/10 Guess he’d be the...Phantom Of The Opera. (I’ll go home and so should he.)

And finally the final Jack. This is the one that almost exactly resembles the Jack we got in the movies(Probably because it was made after the movie but w/e) but just add a cape on him. I can’t really tell if hes got a hoodie and a cape, or just a cloak+hood on top of a sweatshirt. It isn’t too important because my thoughts on this one are obvious. Rating: 10/10 Edna Mode would have a field day with you boy.

MOVIE DESIGN TIME

Joyce claims this is a design he drafted when Leonardo DiCaprio was considered to voice Jack and I can kind of see that with how his face is drawn here. This Jack looks a lot more like a warrior and less of that trickster look. I can’t say I’m a fan of the weird antenna his hood has but his sword is really cool looking.

Rating: 4/10 Nice bow and sword but it can’t save your fashion choices.

This looks like a lanky 11-13 year old who would put rocks or slugs in my shoes and relish in my disgust. He has the exact look of a snot nose kid and I’m unsure how to feel about it.

His various hairstyles drafted here sort of make him softer looking or just more of a snot nose, no in between. Maybe even an Anime Protagonist.

The top right one almost looks like Hiccup from How To Train Your Dragon if you squint. It’ll be a little hard to rate them all as one individual but why not.

Rating: 5/10 I don’t hate them but they aren’t my cup of tea.

AH- IS THAT A FUCKIN GREMLIN?

Oh wait no it isn’t he looks like a 10 year old. Whatever don’t feed him after midnight. The staff’s design of not being shaped like a G is an interesting tidbit but the whole design looks like he’s really young or like a troll etc. This Jack looks like he thinks girls have cooties uses outdated slang.

Rating: 4/10 This is me being generous.

It honestly looks like he hiked his pants up all the way to his chest. A late teen with horrid fashion choices once again. Not many other thoughts here.

Rating: 2/10 Get a sweater on or something.

This is one is very interesting looking to me. His clothes looked a lot more leather based and very human-like. The tatters, tears and frays all make him look like he was a victim of an accident that never changed his clothes. It makes me wonder if this Jack had the same death as the final movie Jack or something else entirely. Either way, this one looks like hes a mid to late teen which really adds to my intrigue.

This was another image that greatly resembled the design so I included it here. It almost looks like his skin is blue here which is pretty neat to me at least. He’s also got leaf motifs here, which from the first Jack design Joyce made, we can see a pattern here.

Rating: 8 /10 I was originally weirded out by his head but now its not so bad.

This Jack is definitely dressed more like a nature boy rather than him having human influenced fashion and it’s an appealing touch. The tiny leaf sprouting from his staff is also kind of cute since the designers seemed to want to put leafs somewhere on his designs. His hairstyle is also very cute but it reminds me of Sasuke Uchiha in a sense. (Not a setback for me at least)

Rating: 7/10 13 year old Jack is going thru a phase.

I thought this Jack didn’t show up again in story boards but I was wrong!

They look a little different from each other but just similar enough to pair together, so bare with me. The first one obviously has looser pants, slightly longer sleeves and got his leaf motif going. This second Jack is a VERY green. It gives the impression that this Jack made his clothes out of plants and natural materials. Again I’m not wholly sure if greens fit his color scheme but they sure went for it for a while. I can’t say I’m a fan of it because it heavily reminds me of Peter Pan.

However a very similar looking Jack could be found in this storyboard. It doesn’t look as green as the other storyboards made it out to be and looks more like dead grass. Which is a pretty nice touch.

Rating: 5/10 I don’t hate it but it just doesn’t vibe yknow.

Speaking of a vibe...hoo this certainly has one.  This Jack isn’t old but certainly doesn’t look very young, maybe in the 20-30 range, thats just me. He has facial features that remind me of Pitch but resembles the Jack Frost of Santa Clause 3

That being said, I wondered if him looking similar to Pitch was in the storyline of them being brothers.(Which was a scrapped thing, who knew.) He’s a bit more menacing in this design but certainly seems like he relishes in his work.

Rating: 4/10 I’d make it a lower score but I gotta give it props

NOW THIS JACK IS KINDA INTERESTING. This one looks like he’s 16 and going through a grunge phase. He’s gonna play Nirvana loudly and not turn it down even if you tell him too. His staff itself has mini icicles hanging off of it and leafs look stuck to his shirt. Did you glue or staple those on Jack? His hair also looks much longer than his other designs and I kind of dig it( Shut up I’m bias.) I’m not wholly sure why else this design has stuck with me but it just has something about it that I just love. I wish there was a full body drawing of it.

(He also kinda has the same hair as the Jack Frost in Runescape but I wont go on about that hoo hoo)

Rating: 9/10 *Bad Boy by Cascada plays in the distance*

This one definitely feels like middleschooler trying to be in a band. His sticks just resemble drumsticks to me what can I say. I’m a big fan of his shoes and his color scheme screams a hibernating tree in winter. His hair also looks like it’s covered in frost rather than it being wholly white, which is very neat!! He looks like he wants to fight but has slight hesitance. Overall a very balanced Jack.

Rating: 8/10 He’s ready for band practice

Not many thoughts here, I just found these tiny Jack designs cute. His hoodie being a jacket instead just adds to the charm of this one.

No talk to him he angy.

Rating: 6/10 fun sized boi

Now this Jack resembles the one earlier that dressed entirely in leather brown colors, however he clearly is different than that one. I’m gonna say it, he looks like a zombie or undead in this design and its pretty fucking gnarly. I don’t know whats going on with his hair but I’m gonna assume it’s just the wind making it look like that. He just has the vibe that he was once human but was turned into something else entirely. It isnt in uncanny territory but borders that. This version of Jack meeting Pitch and the others would have been *very* interesting. Rating: 7/10 Eat a twinkie Jack you’ll feel better.

The final design! I can’t complain much about this one. The way his staff subtly has a G shape and a hexagon(his signature shape) is a wonderful touch. Additionally, the way the frost is gathered mostly where his hand is such an intricate detail. His signature hoodie is iconic at this point so I can’t bad mouth that either.(I can’t anyway because there's no complaints from me here.) Although, I never understood the leather straps that his pants had or their functions. I couldn’t find any colonial outfits that resembled Jack’s pants so its a total mystery to me at least.

And I can’t go on about this design until I mention the snowflake pattern in his eyes

Pure beauty. It’s at a hue of blue that almost looks impossible to have, combined with the electric blue color of the snowflake in his eyes. The amount of detail in this movie amazes me to this day. Rating: One Great Blizzard <3/10

#rise of the guardians #guardians of childhood #jack frost #jack frost rotg #jack frost goc #jackson overland frost #nightlight #nightlight rotg #toothiana #tooth fairy rotg #e. aster bunnymund #nicholas st north #pitch black #pitch black rotg #concept art #artbook #art book #design review #my bullshit #stay tuned for Aster's review

[rintarouss]

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗟𝗗 𝗪𝗘 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗

Osamu always followed a routine. Waking earlier than the sun, running a mile before eight in the morning, eating three meals a day, and getting eight hours of sleep every night are just some things he always did without fail. You, on the other hand, seem to always change things up. Just maybe, he enjoys your unpredictability.

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀: husband!osamu x f!housewife reader

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: fluff, domestic life, mild suggestive themes at the end, trying to start a family, food/eating, im pretty sure i used no pronouns bc it was in third person

𝘄𝗰: 1.7K+

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: uhh yeah this was kinda indulgent and sorta inspired by that one scene in twd when rick wants to make babies w michonne

Alarm clocks were something that was never in use in your household, except in the kitchen. Osamu figured by his third year of high school that he had no use for them, as he always woke up a bit earlier than his scheduled alarm. His regimens were unwavering, so much so that his internal alarm clock was practically set in stone and would wake him everyday at 6:30AM with no chance of error. The fact his sleeping schedule was incredibly stable helped, too. The usual infuriating sound you were used to in high school was unheard of after graduating and moving in with Osamu. Even when you studied in university, you were never jolted awake by the blaring sound resonating from your phone’s speakers since your now-husband was always the one to gently wake you up. Nowadays, you usually woke up when your body decides it’s ready to start the day.

Sunlight seeped into your bedroom through your white flowy curtains that were pulled apart, letting the rays of light travel in freely. The intrusion woke you gently from your slumber, causing you to flutter your eyes open and stretch your limbs instantaneously without another thought. The familiar smell of sweet pancake batter and coffee caught your attention, the sounds of pans and dishes clinking following soon after. It was undoubtedly Osamu that was responsible for all the stimuli that was attacking your senses. Standing up from the bed, your feet hit the hardwood floors that felt ice cold each morning. Your body moved on its own, following the smell of the sweet caramel coffee you know your husband had made, fingers cascading down the smooth handrail of the staircase. Once you reached the kitchen, the sight of Osamu's shirtless and muscular back — barely covered by his black apron — was turned to you as he was tending to the eggs on the stove. 

“Damn, now this is a nice view”

Samu’s lips stretched out into a grin once he heard the saccharine sound of your voice, a small laugh bubbling from his throat and escaping quietly. He turned off the stove, seeing as the eggs have already cooked to your liking, sunny side up with a slightly runny yolk. He turned to face you with his pan in hand, ready to plate the eggs alongside the pancakes. He took in your beauty for a moment, giving a real good look at you. He took in everything about you; your messy hair that practically resembled a knot, your face free of makeup, your skimpy house clothes you only wore during hot summer nights, and your manicured hands fidgeting with your wedding band. 

“Yer’ awake early today, thought ya would be sleepin’ till noon,” he stated with a light chuckle. He gently placed the eggs onto the plates, careful with his movements as to not accidentally pop the yellow bulb of yolk. He then disposed of the non-stick pan by putting it in the sink before turning to you. His calloused hands held onto your waist and pulled you close, leaving not a single centimetre of air between your bodies.

“Thank you for the breakfast, honey,” You said quietly before burrowing your face into his chest, the muscle of his pecs caressing the apples of your right cheek and your arms wrapped around his neck. He let out a soft hum, letting you know that he was aware of your gratitude. After a moment of just standing there, holding each other, you felt his plush lips places a feather-light kiss on your face. Despite being married for a while, and dating for even longer, his small actions never failed to have your cheeks heat up.

Silently, you two separated and sat in your respective seats and began eating the food your doting husband had made but not before you two softly whispered “itadakimasu”. Mornings like these were always calm and serene. Perhaps for some, it would be too quiet for comfort. However, you two enjoyed starting your day this way; with gentle affection and basking in each other’s presences. Words didn’t need to fill the silence as it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, you two simply just liked being around each other. Your nearly telepathic bond was indescribable, but Osamu always found himself lucky to have found someone he was so compatible with.

It didn’t take long for you two to finish your meals, as the cook always made delicious food despite how simple or basic it may be. After you two were done, you gathered up the plates and placed them in the sink. You began to wash the dishes, including the utensils that Samu had used to cook breakfast. With your back turned to him, he took the opportunity to sneak up behind you and snake his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“What’s yer plans for today, my love?” he asked you, genuinely curious since you never had concrete routines. As a housewife of sorts, you were pretty much free to do whatever you wanted.

“Well actually, I was thinking of joining you at our store. I don’t have anything to do except laundry and clean which I could always do in the evening since it doesn’t take me too long,” You responded, resisting your urge to shrug since you didn’t want to accidentally brush off his chin that rested on you. 

“Are ya sure? I thought you’d want to-“

“Yes, I’m sure honey. Actually…” You began softly. Trailing off as you finished washing the last thing in the sink, which was the pan, and placing it on the drying rack. You dried off your hands on a tea towel before turning to face Samu and holding his face softly with both hands.

“I’m thinking since we are technically the store managers, what if we promote one of our employees to a manager? We’d get more free time to maybe work on opening another branch or free time in general. I know we’ve been talking about travelling too so… what do you think?” You asked sheepishly. While Onigiri Miya was the business you two started together, you always saw it as Samu’s business. For any business decision, you believed Osamu should have the final say as it was his pride and joy.

A smile spread wide on his face, trying his best not to squeal like a child due to his excitement. He peppered your face with kisses, his plump lips leaving a slight residue. You burst out laughing at his antics, only making his grin impossibly bigger. You let out a whine of annoyance, crying out that “You’re makin’ my face all sloppy ’n gross, Samu!”. He noticed a while back that you tend to speak in a way that mimicked his Kansai accent whenever you were overjoyed, and he loved every bit of it. 

“Well, I was just thinking more about our future… y’know? At some point we’ll need to expand which means we can’t be the only ones running the shops, we’ll need to promote employees to manager. And in the long run, it’ll give us more free time to pursue other goals apart from the shop,” You spoke, your dulcet voice captivating him while you spoke about your future with him.

He took your left hand that resided on his cheek into his own, before bringing the velvety smooth skin closer to his face. He pressed a kiss onto the wedding band you wore, the grey diamond shining due to the rays of sun that entered through the multitude of windows in your home. He remembered you saying you wanted to have grey diamonds for your wedding bands, as it reminded you so much of his hair that caught your eye back in high school. He initially hated the idea, finding it embarrassing that it was his hair of all things that caught your attention. Now, he finds the odd request endearing, as it was a reminder of him. He remembered that you made a joke about it that he was now wrapped around your finger, literally and figuratively, and he couldn’t have agreed more.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout our future, hm sweetheart?” He asked with his tone indicating he was trying to tease of fluster you. You rolled your eyes at his childish behaviour, hitting his bare pec lightly with your palm to feign annoyance. He chuckled at your reaction before pressing a sickeningly sweet kiss onto your lips, his left hand gripping your waist securely while the other held your face gently. God, he just loved kissing you. If he could, he would never pull away from you, but alas you had to. 

“I’m always thinking about our future, asshole. Before I would think about our future in terms of marrying you. Now that we’re married, I gotta think ahead. Like how we’re gonna grow old and we’ll be giving each other heart medicine,” You laughed, imagining what Samu would be like if he was old and bed ridden. He probably wouldn’t be grumpy, he never was. 

“Yeah? Well I’m thinkin’ of our future too, y’know? Like near future… like startin’ a family,” He mentioned calmly, his eyes locking with your gorgeous irises to search for any sort of reaction. Your eyes gleamed, and his heart softened.

“Yeah?” You asked for confirmation, leaning in closer, your breath tickling his face.

“Yeah,” He confirmed, closing the gap between you two and kissing you delicately.

You pressed your hands against his chest, pushing him away slightly to break apart the kiss. His eyebrows were furrowed, confused at your actions.

“You need to be at the shop soon,” You replied, slight disappointment weighing heavy on your heart as you just wanted to relish in the moment.

“Ya said we should promote a manager, right? Mori is the first employee to come and I’ll tell him to open the shop using the spare hidden key. Consider this his first day as manager, he knows what to do. Right now, I’m busy gettin’ busy,”

“Oh my god, I hate you,” 

© 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗦 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟭. 𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗠𝗢𝗗𝗜𝗙𝗬 𝗢𝗥 𝗥𝗘𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗧. 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 !

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @dancingazaleas @izukine @txzierbaby @mitsuluv @xenihime @conniesspringersgf @fiaficsxo @s4ijohs @oblxvion @inumakizone​ @megumisbimbo

#ch; miya osamu #haikyuu!! #haikyu #hq #haikyu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyū!! #inarizaki #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #osamu x reader #osamu hcs #osamu drabble #osamu x you #osamu miya #osamu fluff #osamu smut #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya fluff #osamu imagine #osamu miya imagine #haikyuu!! fluff #hq fluff #hq imagine

[parkersroses]

it’s golden. | harry styles.

summary: Harry brings you to the Grammy’s and it all ends in a wonderful night. 

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k words

warning(s): all fluff, small mentions of sensual stuff

a/n: (disclaimer: gif belongs to @hers <3) hello! been a while! i’ve been wanting to write something since harry won a grammy award, which i’m unbelievably proud of him. so enjoy this cloud of unedited fluff. reblog and comment if you liked this. buy me a coffee if you’d like to support me further <3

The Grammy Awards had been an anticipating event you both waited for. In your honest opinion, you thought Harry deserved a nomination way back during the success of his first album or even his later One Direction days. 

Nevertheless, you couldn’t be more proud of your lover, having not been nominated once, but thrice. He himself couldn’t believe how Fine Line, a labour of his love and hardwork, was recognized on this scale. Luckily, you were both safely together in the comfort of your own home when the nominations were announced. That day was later filled with a lot of love and celebration for him, with you congratulating him as many times as you could, in many ways you could. 

The buzz about Harry being a Grammy-nominated artist instantly filled the set of ‘Don’t Worry, Darling’, nearly everyone congratulating the supporting lead actor of their film. Although Harry gets very shy whenever someone compliments his success, he still took pride in how his effort and resilience got him to where he was.

The following weeks were filled with preparation and planning, with Harry being announced that he would be opening the event. It was only fitting that he would perform Watermelon Sugar, considering it is now a Grammy nominated single. He had some doubts with the choice of song though. He knew it was a big and popular summer song and it had been playing everywhere since he released the song. Harry knew there would be some people that are just bored and tired of the song already and opted to change it.

However, you managed to talk some sense in him, knowing how award seasons like this can be nerve wracking.

“I’m just saying, it’s been playing around for more than a year. People are probably bored of it,” Harry said as he laid on your shared bed, staring at the ceiling like it was the most fascinating thing ever. 

Finishing up your skincare routine, you looked back at him. “And? If you want to perform it, it shouldn’t really matter if people got tired of it. I still love the song,” you reassured him. 

He lifted his head slightly off his pillow to look at you. “Yeah, but still. Maybe if I performed other songs from the album, people might enjoy the performance more.” He sighed as he plopped his head back on the pillow.

You quickly climbed in the bed, plopping right next to him. Harry grunted as you put your head on his chest and intertwine your legs, instantly wrapping his arms around you. He turned his head to press small kisses on the crown of your head. “Don’t know why I’m worried about it. I’m sorry if I’m being over dramatic about it.” He apologised to you. 

“You know I love your over-dramaticness nonetheless, bubs.” You comforted him, kissing above his heart as you looked up at him. “But you shouldn’t worry so much. If Watermelon Sugar is what you wanna perform, then you should go for it. It’s a Grammy-nominated song anyways. But just remember to have fun. It’s only your first time being nominated and performing there.” 

Harry hummed in reply as he stared into your eyes. Often times, he still finds himself mesmerized by your eyes despite the long years of you being together. “Besides, I’ll be there, in the front row, where you can look at me when you’re nervous.” You smiled at him and he smiled back at the thought of you cheering on him in possibly one of the most important nights of his life. 

Harry leaned up and pressed a kiss on your lips, sighing at mere taste and softness of it. “I’d really love that. Thank you, lovie.” He mumbled into the kiss, breaking away as he smiled gleefully at you. He truly did adore you and the little things you would do for him. You pressed another kiss on his lips, Harry was quick enough to return the action. “Anytime, bubs.” You said.

The week of the Grammys came by quickly, which meant Harry’s nerves only escalated from the day he found out he was performing. He had some costume fittings for the event to do and planning for how the set is going to look. He kept some secrets from you about what he was going to wear for his performance and you were initially upset about it because you enjoy getting a sneak peek into his fashion sense for these types of situations. But Harry constantly assured you that you’ll love it when you see it, although you always love whatever he decides to wear.

For all you know, he’d be wearing a trash bag and you’ll still think he is the sexiest man you ever laid eyes on. 

Eventually, the day of the Grammys finally came. Harry was almost certain that he was going to throw up in his room. He paces back and forth, trying to ease down his nerves. You told him you’d be running a bit late but promised him that you’ll be there before he could sing the first word of the song. Soon enough, it was time to go. He meets up with his band and they all huddle together to say some words of encouragement. It was a big night for all of them. 

About five minutes before he’s supposed to go on stage, he hears a familiar voice calling out to him. He turns around and sees his love running up to him, apologising profusely to those she bumped into. He grins widely and opens his arms wide for you to run into them. He hugs you tight, swaying you both from side to side as his hands feel the satin pink dress you wore. 

You both pull away with wide grins on your faces and you let your hands rest on his bare chest. “Bold choice of the outfit, Mr. Styles,” you tease him. Harry chuckles at you as he presses his forehead against yours. “Told ye you’ll love it, didn’t I?” he says and you hummed in reply. 

“I do. I really love it. Y’look like a rockstar,” you admit as you fix the leather jacket. Someone calls for Harry and it’s time for his time to shine. You pull his face down to your level and give a couple of good luck kisses, not that he needed any luck because he’ll do great no matter what. 

“I love you,” you said lovingly. Harry steals another kiss from you before he parts away. “I love you, too,” He says and winks at you, making your cheeks turn red as you put on your mask.

Just as you said before, you stay through the whole performance, your eyes always focused on him with the energy and charm he always brings into every show. You have to admit that his outfit was really doing things to you. You love how fitting the pants were on Harry’s legs, not to mention how great his ass looks as he danced around on stage. You did not miss the times where his jacket opened slightly and exposed more of his bare chest. Your eyes linger on the chest littered with tattoos you love to trace and give kisses and hickies on it. 

Similarly, Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. The way the pink satin dress you wore hugged every inch of your body. Even behind the mask you were wearing, he knew you were smiling underneath it as you watched him sing. Admittedly, he wasn’t even looking at you because he was nervous; he simply was just admiring how absolutely ravishing you were looking. But that’s a thought he’ll get back to when the night is done. 

As the performance ended, the people around the set applauded. Harry bows down, humbly thanking them and a big smile breaks on his face when he hears your cheers. And it was moments like this where he loves the fact that you are his biggest fan. 

The both of you meet back in his designated room where he is supposed to change his outfit for the main event. He pushes your body gently against the wall as he desperately kisses you. Your arms are around his shoulder as you weave your fingers through his hair. He’s definitely going to get in trouble for that mess soon. His hands travel slowly down your body and stops on your behind, cheekily grabbing a handful. You moan into the kiss and Harry lets his tongue into your mouth. 

“Baby,” you say in between the kisses. “Gotta get you changed,” you giggle as he kisses you; he swears his heart flutters whenever you laugh. “Yeah? Did ya like my performance out there, lovie?” he asks as he lips travel to your cheek and down your neck. 

Harry feels you shiver and you could feel his smirk against your skin. You pull his face away from you and he pouts. “I love it. But you have to change for the main event,” you say and smile at his childish pout. You kiss the tip of his nose which makes him scrunch his face up. “Promise we’ll do this again later,” 

And his eyes widen at the suggestion and he steals a peck from you. “I’m looking forward to that, lovie,” he smirks. 

━

The event was definitely something you didn’t think you’d get to experience. You honestly had to pinch yourself, hoping that was actually Dua Lipa and Taylor Swift that were sitting a few tables away from you. With every category leading up to the ones Harry was nominated, you could feel his hands sweating as they’re intertwined with yours. Harry didn’t mind if he didn’t win, but the thought of actually winning was definitely there in his mind. 

You lift your hands, pull down your mask and press small kisses on the back of his hand, reassuring him always. And he smiles in gratitude at you. 

As they are announcing the nominees for Best Pop Solo Performance, Harry’s hand grips yours tighter and you rub his arm in hopes to ease his nerves. The moment you hear the words ‘Watermelon Sugar’, you jump up from your chair and scream through your mask just as everyone else in the room stands and applaud him. Harry, for one, is in complete utter disbelief that he is the winner. 

He stands from his chair, removing his mask, and gives you the biggest smile and tightest hug. “You did it, baby,” he hears you say in his ear amidst the applause, cheers and his song playing in the background. After giving Jeff a hug, he makes his way towards the stage. He picks up the shiny golden gramophone for a moment and sets it down before giving his speech. As he expresses his thanks and gratitude, you sit there looking up at him with the proudest face. Your heart feels warm knowing how this dream of his was finally a reality. 

His speech nears its end when he makes one last thank you. “And to my love, for always believing in me and always telling me to strive for greatness. You were the first person I shared this album in its entirety and you’ve given me the love and support that is beyond what I deserve. I love you endlessly and this wouldn’t have been possible without you. I feel very honoured to be standing here with all of you so thank you so much,” He thanks the audience again before leaving the stage so he could sit next to you again, completely forgetting about his award on stage which made you giggle. 

The night goes on and the both of you continue to soak in the magical night. At one point, you manage to have a conversation with Taylor Swift and you are surprised that you didn’t pass out. While Harry didn’t win in the other categories he was in, he was still grateful for the achievement and recognition he got. It was a marvelous night, he admits.

It was very late when you got home. You chuck your shoes away as you enter and quickly make your way to the couch where you could rest for a bit. Harry chuckles at you as he closes the door. He leans over you, smiling at your tired state and admiring your figure as your dress rises to your mid-thighs when you lie down. 

“Scoot over, bubs,” he says as he takes off his orange blazer and black boa. He squeezes in beside you, resting his face on your chest while holding you close so you don’t fall off the edge of the couch. He hums as he feels your fingers running through his hair, pressing soft kisses on his head. 

For a moment, he slowly feels himself falling asleep before he hears you gasp from above. “I forgot something!” you exclaim as you pull yourself off from under and rush to the kitchen. You hear Harry whine in protest as you leave him on the couch. “Bubs, I wanna cuddle,” he whines, his face smushed up against the couch as he misses your warmth. 

“One second, H!” you say back to him. He hears you rummaging through something and for a second, he is intrigued by what you have up your sleeve. Harry hears your footsteps coming back and hears you setting down something as it clinks on the coffee table. 

“Bubs, open your eyes!” 

Harry is tempted to just fall asleep right then and there, but he hears the excitement in your voice and sighs against the couch as he opens his eyes. There you are, with the sweetest smile on your face next to a small round chocolate cake on a cake stand. Next to it are some plates, forks and a knife. Harry gets up and sits down next to you. “W-What? Where did you get this?” he says as he smiles at you. 

“I made it for you. Today right before I went to see you. It’s why I was running late before your performance,” you beam at him and Harry looks at you in pure adoration. “I would’ve written something, like ‘Grammy Winner’ or something but that would be mocking you, you know, in case you didn’t win. But now you won and I kinda feel bad tha-” 

Your words are cut off as Harry smashes his lips against yours. You hum in delight as your lips move against each other. Harry breaks away and cups your face in his large hands. They may be rough due to the guitar scars he gets, but they’re where yours belong. 

“I love it, baby. Thank you,” he says sincerely and both of you smile, your eyes and heart holding all the love you had for each other. “I love you too. Anything for my Grammy-winner love,” you say softly as you peck his lips again. “Shall we?” you motion your head towards the cake. Harry agrees as he watches you cutting the cake for the both of you, his smile filled with love and adoration for you. 

And he admits that you are simply the most amazing person he has ever loved. He had the most marvelous and golden night with you. 

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot #parkersroses masterlist #parkersroses writing

[nightingaelic]

Fallout 4 companions react to meeting Arcade Gannon?

Ever the curious neighbor, as soon as the sole survivor spotted the blonde, bespectacled man at the bar in the Dugout Inn, they drifted over and struck up a conversation. A drink or two later, the two were swapping tales about wasteland encounters, pointing at various holes in their travel clothes and pairing them up with fantastic backstories. When the sole survivor's companion finally swung open the door, they were given an inviting wave.

"Sit down!" the sole survivor encouraged them. "First round's on me. I'd like you to meet Arcade."

Cait: "Hiya handsome." Cait winked at the man in the lab coat and leaned on the bar. "I'm Cait. Never seen you around before. Where is it you're comin' from?"

"I, uh..." Arcade adjusted his glasses and ran a hand through his wavy hair. "West of here. Nowhere in particular."

"A free spirit, then? Just passin' through?" Cait looked him up and down. "Think the Science! Center might be lookin' for a new egghead, if those clothes aren't just for show."

Arcade tugged on his outfit self-consciously. "I thought it might keep Commonwealth raiders from shooting me on sight, if they thought I was a doctor."

Cait bobbed her head in a noncommittal way. "Or they might see you as an easy target. That is, if they don't spot that plasma pistol you've got in your back pocket."

Codsworth: "Hello to you, sir!" Codsworth exclaimed, bobbing excitedly. "Codsworth, at your service. Might I say, it is a fine occasion to meet someone nowadays who appreciates the importance of good hygience and care for one's appearance."

"Thank you," Arcade said, with a somewhat quizzical glance at the sole survivor. "And you belong to..."

"Well, I belong to him just as much as he belongs to me," the sole survivor jumped in to explain.

Codsworth waved them off. "Not to worry, the conventional assumptions are not unwarranted. I am happy to accompany and assist in wasteland adventures as necessary. When not necessary, I typically clean the house."

Curie: "Monsieur Arcade," Curie purred, with the special enthusiasm she reserved for introductions. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. You can call me Curie. Have you been in Diamond City long?"

"Not long at all," Arcade replied, clearly intrigued by Curie's accent. “Parlez-vous français?"

"Oui, Monsieur!" Curie exclaimed. "Le français est si rare de nos jours. Où avez-vous appris?"

"Oh, um... des... des livres, principalement," Arcade stammered. "Books. It's not as good as my Latin, I'm sorry."

"Latin?" Curie switched gears instantly. "Etiam magis rara."

Arcade laughed. "Well, not where I'm from. Who are you? Linguists are practically unicorns, nowadays."

Curie sighed. "It is a long story. Perhaps we wait until Vadim brings the drinks, and we can compare notes?"

Danse: "Ad victoriam, Arcade." Paladin Danse shook the newcomer's hand with gusto. "Paladin Danse, with the Brotherhood of Steel."

Arcade's eyes narrowed. "Brotherhood of Steel?"

"That's correct, citizen," Danse replied proudly.

"Uh-huh." Arcade looked back to the sole survivor. "I had no idea they were in the area. Are you stationed in Diamond City?"

"Brotherhood operations are a strictly classified matter," Danse answered, furrowing his brow. "But our main base of operations is at the Boston airport, where the Prydwen is docked. You can't miss it."

"Well, that explains it." Arcade examined his drink, avoiding eye contact with the Paladin. "I didn't come in from the north. I'm sure it's a sight to see."

Deacon: "Nice to meet you." Deacon declined the handshake, instead crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side. "Nice tan. Been on the road long?"

"Too long," Arcade replied, retracting his hand and returning the calculated look.

Deacon grinned. "Alright, I won't pry. Welcome to Diamond City. Did Vadim try to poison you yet?"

"You watch it, John Doe!" Vadim shot back from halfway down the bar. "Or I call the guards, see if you actually do work the midnight shift, ya?"

"You can walk down to Danny's sign-up sheet for shifts and check yourself!" Deacon's grin grew wider. "And I'll tend bar. We'll see who can do a better job of it."

Dogmeat: Dogmeat approached the man's open hand, which he gave a good sniff. Soap, hot dust, a whiff of plasma cartridges: Nothing out of the ordinary. Satisfied, the dog opened his mouth to pant, tongue lolling, and accepted the scratch behind the ears.

Hancock: "Arcade, huh?" Hancock gave the man a winning smile and took one of the open stools. "I'm Hancock. First time in Diamond City? You're gonna love it here. Vadim and his brother really know how to knock you on the floor."

As if to demonstrate, Vadim delivered three shots of Bobrov's Best to the little group. "On the house," he offered. "Celebrating Mayor Hancock's newest business deal with yours truly."

Hancock threw his back, and when Arcade hesitated, he threw that shot back too. "Next one, buddy."

"Did he say Mayor Hancock?" Arcade asked. "Mayor of Diamond City?"

"Nah, nah." Hancock laughed. "God, wouldn't that be a riot. Ever hear of a town called Goodneighbor?"

MacCready: "Arcade." MacCready shook the man's hand warily. "Like the pre-war places that have a whole bunch of games inside them?"

"Actually, like the..." Arcade made a face. "You know what, never mind. Like the pre-war arcades, yeah."

"Oh, man." MacCready grinned. "There was this one I found once in the Capital Wasteland, mostly broken down of course, but it had one working machine in it. The Red Menace Whac-a-Commie. Someone took the whackers ages ago, but the little Red Menace guys still popped up and down. Duncan- my son- loved it."

Arcade chuckled. "Yeah, they're... they're fun. I found a Hoop Shot once, but the basketballs were all dried-up and flat."

"Gotta get yourself a Pip-Boy," MacCready replied, nudging the sole survivor's shoulder affectionately. "This one has a collection of mini-games for theirs. Atomic Command, Grognak & the Ruby Ruins, Pipfall... all the greats. Oh, I'm MacCready, by the way."

Valentine: "Nick Valentine. Pleased to meet you." Nick shook the man's extended hand with practiced warmth, giving him time to realize the metal grasp he offered was not a cybernetic, and the scar around his jawline was actually just where his synthetic skin ended.

True to form, the stranger's eyebrows shot up, his grip slackened and his mouth dropped open. "You're a... what are you?"

Nick gave him the standard line. "I'm a detective. But, if you're referring to the plastic and platinum bits, I'm also a synthetic man. All the parts, minus a few red blood cells."

"Whoa." Instead of the typical scramble to put some distance between the two of them, Nick was surprised to find Arcade's handshake tighten again at this explanation. "I've heard of people like you, but never thought I'd actually meet one. Er, well, one that was obviously living as a synth. Though I guess you don't have much of a choice, huh?"

Piper: "Arcade? Piper Wright." The reporter shook the newcomer's hand firmly. "So, what's your story? What brings you to the Great Green Jewel of the Commonwealth?"

"I uh..." Arcade looked flustered, despite Piper's encouraging smile.

The sole survivor came to his defense. "Leave him be, Piper, he just got into town," they scolded playfully.

"What?" Piper asked innocently. "Can't the town reporter ask questions around here without everyone telling me I'm being too nosy?"

"No."

"Town reporter?" Arcade perked up. "Is that your newspaper, on the way in? Public... something?"

"Publick Occurrences," Piper answered with pride. "Covering anything and everything worth hearing about that happens in the Commonwealth."

Preston: "Welcome to Diamond City, Arcade." Preston shook the man's hand warmly. "I'm Preston Garvey with the Commonwealth Minutemen."

"Minutemen?" Arcade asked, clearly unfamiliar with the term.

"We're citizen soldiers," Preston explained. "The people of the Commonwealth banding together to protect ourselves and decide our own future."

"So sort of like a free state?" Arcade straightened up. "Or do you have some kind of command structure?"

"Command structure." Preston chuckled and glanced at the sole survivor. "You're looking at it."

Strong: "Strong need to get moving," the super mutant replied, rubbing his big hands together. "Milk of human kindness not here."

Arcade took the mutant in with the air of someone who had dealt with somewhat-friendly specimens before. "I can ask the bartender if they have brahmin milk."

The sole survivor waved him off. "No, that's not what he-"

"Puny humans do not have milk!" Strong cut in.

"Wait, milk of human kindness?" Arcade looked confused. "Is that... Macbeth?"

The sole survivor sighed. "It's a long story."

X6-88: "Good afternoon." Rather than sit down, X6-88 adopted a protective stance of the sole survivor, completely ignoring the hand Arcade was offering. "I hope you know that if harm comes to this individual, your life will come to a swift end."

"Uh-huh." Arcade retracted his hand. "Bodyguard?"

"Of a sort."

Arcade turned to the sole survivor instead. "Is he always this much of a stick in the mud?"

They shrugged. "He's protective and slow to trust. Give him a bit and keep your hands where he can see them, you'll be fine."

X6-88 nodded. "Affirmative."

BONUS!

Ada: "Hello sir." Ada nodded her head in greeting. "I am Ada. I hope you are enjoying your stay in Diamond City. Did you experience any trouble getting to the stadium?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Arcade replied. "Sorry, you're an amalgamation I haven't seen before. Sentry bot and protectron parts for sure, but your head is..."

"An assaultron," Ada filled in helpfully. "I take it your region does not have many of these bots?"

"No, they seem to be more of an East Coast thing."

"Just don't get on her bad side," the sole survivor joked. "You don't want to be on the receiving end of an assaultron laser."

Gage: "Well hi there!" Porter shook Arcade's hand forcefully. "Porter Gage. Talked you into trying some of this swill, did they? Brave soul."

"It's not so bad," Arcade replied with a smirk.

"Oh sure, if you're lucky enough to have Scarlett bring it to you." Porter winked at the waitress, who paused in her service to flip him the bird.

"Mmm, not my type," Arcade admitted.

"Not your ty-" Porter blurted before putting two and two together. "Oh, gotcha. Well, there's always Hawthorne."

The raider waved to the adventurer in the corner, who waved back. Arcade sank as deeply into his stool as he could and blushed.

Longfellow: "Mmm." Old Longfellow rejected Arcade's handshake and took the offered seat, swinging around to face the bar. "Storm's comin' soon. Can smell it."

"Then it's a good thing we're inside," Arcade replied, his tone unsure.

Longfellow grunted his agreement and accepted the drink Vadim slid to him, downing it quickly.

The sole survivor scowled at him. "Guess he's not in a talkative mood today."

Maxson: "Elder Arthur Maxson of the East Coast Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel." Maxson shook Arcade's hand confidently.

Arcade, on the other hand, looked like he was being violently pulled between an instinct to flee and an intense curiosity. Curiosity won out. "Maxson? Of the line of Captain Roger Maxson?"

"High Elder Roger Maxson," the Elder corrected him. "You know of him?"

"Well sure, everybody on the West Co-" Arcade stopped himself. "Never mind. What's an Elder doing in a dive like this?"

Maxson studied him intently, clearly sizing him up. "Shore leave," he finally answered, sliding into the offered seat.

Desdemona: Desdemona smiled coolly. "I know."

The answer took Arcade aback, but the sole survivor just rolled their eyes. "Dispense with the power plays for once, Dez. We're just trying to have a drink."

The Railroad leader raised an eyebrow, but she sat down. "Suit yourself. When did you arrive in town, Mr. Gannon?"

"Oh, for the love of..."

Arcade eyed her suspiciously. "I don't remember telling you my full name."

Desdemona lit up a cigarette. "You didn't. But I'm by far the friendliest person in the Commonwealth who's wondering why a Follower of the Apocalypse is all the way out here, across the continent."

#why is arcade in the commonwealth? #beats me #probably beats Arcade too #let's blame the courier somehow #fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout new vegas #fnv #arcade gannon #arcade israel gannon #cait #curie #danse #paladin danse #deacon #hancock #mayor hancock #john hancock #maccready #robert joseph maccready #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #x6-88 #porter gage #old longfellow #elder maxson #arthur maxson #maxson

[peaches-writes]

kitten

member: minho wc: 1.2k genre: fluff, flirty best friends to lovers au, high school au, bad boy au, skater boy au, summer au, chaotic take on the nonchalant character a flirts back to greasy character b trope note: dialogue is messy af idk i was tryna channel summ coming of age writing there or whatev + same universe as doll bc skz cheesy tropes agenda

Above yours and Minho's heads, the raindrops fall fast on the waiting shed's clear roof with loud thuds. Simultaneously, some are also blown in the little dry space you could occupy by the cold gust of wind that accompanies the sudden rainfall, dampening your bare legs and roller skates uncomfortably as you sit on the lone wooden bench. When you crane your neck out to the edge of the waiting shed's roof, the once clear blue and sunny sky is now covered with gray clouds and distant scattered lightning.

So much for skating with your best friend along the Han today. You sigh at this in defeat, leaning back and sinking down the cold seats with your hands crossed over your chest. "We'll just have to wait the rain out, I guess..."

Next to you, Minho giggles as he briefly extends a hand out to the downpour, opening and closing the spaces between his fingers at every drop of rain. "It's not that bad, kitten." He assures but to little avail, glancing over his shoulder to see your frown still attached to your expression which makes him laugh. "Look on the bright side, you can cool off from skating out in the heat 5 minutes ago! It's freezing now!"

"You know I don't like cold rain." You pout anyway, crossing your legs in further discomfort as more raindrops are swayed by the wind towards you. You'd lift and fold your legs closer to you if you could but you have socks inside your skates and you'd prefer to keep it dry until the rain eases. "I feel sticky and weird."

In response, Minho folds his palm exposed to the rain inward and collects enough rainwater to lightly splash your way, making you yelp in disgust and slap his back harshly. "Like that?"

"Ya! Lee Minho!"

He laughs even harder to your annoyance, emptying his palm of rainwater by spraying you some more before shaking its remnants off on the side. Leaning back on the bench as well and scooting closer to you, he then wiggles his eyebrows and asks, "Are you refreshed yet?"

You punch him on the upper arm in response, eliciting more mischievous giggles from him. "You're so annoying."

"That's no way to talk to your class president, secretary Y/L/N." He scoffs, shuffling around his seat as he places his sneakers on top of his skateboard and sways it from side to side to pass the time.

"You're not class president anymore. We literally just graduated 2 weeks ago." You point out matter-of-factly, peering down on the floor before playfully kicking the board from under his feet. When you look up, you see Minho feigning his own pout before he expertly kicks the board up to his hand, placing it on his opposite side. "You gotta let it go, Lee. You're not the boss of me anymore."

The last comment suddenly brightens up his face, the corners of his pout lifting up into a smirk. "Ah-ha, so by corporate rules, I can date you now, right?"

"It was high school classroom politics. It's not that deep, my friend." You shake your head dramatically and pat his shoulder once more, purposely ignoring your own quickening heartbeat and heated cheeks. "Also ew, are you into office roleplay now or something?"

"I didn't say that, you did, okay?" He nudges your shoulder with a wink, propping an arm behind you on the bench and leaning his cheek against his upturned palm. "Oh dear, kitten, I think it's you who's into that...or something."

"Like I said, you're annoying." You pull up a straight face in front of him, only for the sudden gust of wind to break you apart and make you shiver in front of him.

"And you're cold." He points out obviously as you hug your arms tighter, instinctively removing his arm behind you and lifting the hem of his hoodie up. "Here—"

You raise your hands up in between the two of you, palms facing him when he tries pushing the pink hoodie towards you. "No, it's fine—"

"Come on, I can't have you dying of hypothermia before I could walk you back home and announce to auntie that I'm courting you." He rolls his eyes, lowering the hoodie just below your hands and haphazardly throwing the material over your bare legs.

"I—"

He ignores your wide eyes and parted lips, tsking as he straightens the thick hoodie horizontally across you. "Cover your legs at least, you're getting rain all over them."

You awkwardly cough your flustered expression away, hands dropping down the hoodie on your lap and lifting it up once more. "Then you'll..." You inhale, mentally cringing at your next words as you twist your upper body to face Minho's anticipating gaze. "Then you'll freeze to death before you could walk me back home and announce to my mom that you're gonna court me...stupid."

You dangerously peek from the sides of the hoodie amidst the internal panic in your head to catch Minho's brief flustered expression, cheeks burning red and mouth agape as it's him coughing into his fist this time and glancing away from you in panic.

"Shut up." He musters up a roll of his eyes once he's visibly recovered, pushing the hoodie back to you again and pinning it down on both of your shoulders this time. "Whatever, I'd rather you stay warm."

"But this hoodie fits us just fine." You swat his hands away from your shoulders, sneaking a hand down the hem of his band shirt and tugging him closer to you. "It's not the door from Titanic, Min. Scoot in, you're clearly shivering too."

"Nope—"

"—Lee Minho, you're so stubborn—"

"—Says you—"

"—I said, let's share, stupid—"

You pass the hoodie back and forth in your rapid bickering, you trying to get him to sit closer while he counters by trying to tuck the ends of the hoodie under your legs.

It's only when the rain worsens and a small meow passes your ears that the two of you freeze in place, turning your heads to your right where one of the neighbourhood cats has arrived to the waiting shed and settled under the far end of the bench.

"Look at that, kitten." Minho points out in a much gentle whisper now, bunching the hoodie in his hands and slowly removing them off of your lap. "It's...well, it's an actual kitten."

You absentmindedly help him at this, wobbling over your skates to a stand after and carefully approaching the drenched orange tabby. "I think the little guy needs it more than we do." You suggest, earning you a nod from Minho who then passes you the hoodie when you glance over your shoulder.

Minho then stands up, tiptoeing along towards the cat who initially backs away until you reach your hands out for it to smell. "Ah, I was gonna be cute with you and lend you my hoodie." He whispers teasingly, carefully patting the cat and scratching its ears once it visibly gets comfortable with the two of you. "I'll just try again next time. When do you think's the next rainfall this summer?"

You elbow him on the side with a laugh, letting the cat smell the hoodie as you scratch its ears as well. "You'll have plenty of chances next time. Didn't you say you're courting me this summer? That better not be another joke of yours, Lee."

"When did I ever joke about those, kitten?" He winks before turning his full attention back to the cat. "Let's get this other kitten dry and warm first then we'll talk about how we'll dramatically announce our relationship to your parents later."

"You're ridiculous."

m.list

@skzwriternet

#stayverse #districtninewriters #inkidz #stayhavennet #skzwriternet #stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #stray kids oneshots #stray kids fluff #stray kids au #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz drabbles #skz oneshots #skz fluff #skz au #lee minho #lee know #stray kids lee know #skz lee know #stray kids minho #skz minho #minho imagines #minho scenarios #minho au #minho drabbles #minho oneshots

[ellewriteswrongs]

picking favorites (a @tsbandau drabble)

if y’all aren’t emotionally invested in @underdog-arts ‘s band au, idk what y’all are even doing /j

anyway, here’s a wholesome family drabble insp. by the band au and my (not-so) subtle obsession with remus and janus. also subbing to their patreon is the best $5 i’ve probably ever spent, no joke

“Honey, you can still pick up Ry, right?” Janus called down the hallway, carrying a basket of laundry on each hip before depositing them in the hallway to put away later. Remus was seated in their shared office catching up on emails as Janus began packing up leftover pasta into containers to take to their show scheduled that night. 

“I told you I got ‘em,” he agreed, banging the last clumps of his protein shake into his mouth with the heel of his hand. “I’m gonna’ jog to V’s and grab the van.”

Janus nodded to themself out of instinct before faltering, their brow furrowing. 

“Wait—Re, that’s like three miles,” they challenged, dumping the dirtied dishes into the sink. “Just take the fucking car.”

Remus’ snort laugh was audible from down the hallway. 

“They asked for the van!” Remus cackled. “And I, for one, do not disappoint. Apparently making my kid’s friends think they’re cool is worth a three-mile jog.”

Janus rolled their eyes, albeit fondly. This was, unfortunately, not news. 

Riley was having an…interesting phase. It wouldn’t be abnormal for kids their age if it weren’t for the fact that their parents were ridiculously competitive, and all of their parents’ friends were eager to get in on it. 

As soon as Remus attended career day in Riley’s first grade classroom, resulting in the entire class of six-year-olds marveling at the fact that their friend’s dad was a “rock star.”

Janus loved that conversation over dinner that night. 

They weren’t jealous. No, in fact, it was probably overdue for Riley to have a bit of a “Daddy’s kid” phase, considering how joined at the hip they were with Janus for multiple years now. But they wanted to win. 

Riley could make their own decisions about picking a favorite parent. As long as that decision was Janus. 

“You’ve gone so-oft,” they sing-songed, smirking as Remus appeared in the kitchen behind them, wrapping one hand around their hip and pressing a kiss to their temple. “Ry’s got you wrapped around their finger.”

Remus have a flash of his crooked grin. 

“Yeah, well…at least I know where they get that from.”

Janus rolled their eyes, trying to hide their reddening face. 

“Sap,” they grumbled fondly. “Hurry up and get on with your run before you’re late to pickup. And tell V I said hey.”

Remus gave an exasperated chuckle and affirmation, but pocketed his keys and wallet nonetheless. 

The jog to Virgil’s apartment wasn’t a particularly strenuous three miles, being downtown and all, and Remus was far from out of shape. Still, three miles was three miles—especially in the late afternoon sun. Needless to say, Virgil wasn’t thrilled to have a giant sweaty man on his doorstep, but he handed over the keys nonetheless. 

The van was old, still clinging to its axels from when Remus himself purchased it from an old neighbor and declared it the band’s “tour bus.” It was nice enough at the time, especially for the price he paid, but it certainly wasn’t still around for anything more than sentimental value. 

Mainly just Remus refusing to get rid of it. 

That, and the fact that, for whatever reason, Riley thought it was the coolest thing ever. 

The drive wasn’t long, only the sitting in traffic of other parents in minivans trying to get into the school parking lot. He…wasn’t a fan of that part of being a parent, that’s for sure. He could do without any other parents, thank you very much, but at least it was fun to see how obvious all of them were in their distaste of both him and Janus, compared to how much their kid absolutely adored them. 

A fact that was only proven when Remus eventually made it to the parking lot and exited his van, only to be met with ear-splitting squeal of “daddy!” and an armful of six-year-old. 

He can’t deny how, even after all these years, the title still makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Like…he is a dad. That’s his kid! How fucking rad is that!

He happens to spot a few other parents, along with some of Riley’s friends that he recognizes, and he offers a quick wave with the hand that isn’t mussing up his kid’s hair. 

“You brought the van,” Riley points out with a toothy grin that Remus can’t help mirroring. He can’t help the knot in his throat when he spots the gap in their teeth from their first ever lost tooth—which only meant they were getting much too old and Remus would really appreciate it if they would slow the fuck down.

“I told you I would, didn’t I?” Riley nods, bouncing on Remus’ hip just a bit out of excitement. “I gotta’ warn you though, JJ’s getting pretty jealous.”

Riley laughs before sticking out their tongue and making a fart noise in Remus’s face. 

Remus is, for the thousandth time, bewildered at how Riley couldn’t possibly be more like Janus if they tried. And mostly smitten. He has the coolest kid on Earth, after all. 

“They can suck my butt!” Riley squeals and Jesus Christ, Remus is going to have a heart attack right there in the parking lot. He’s gonna’ have to grill Jan again to make sure those two aren’t secretly biologically related. 

“Hey, your words not mine, squirt,” he smirks, opening the van door and strapping them into the car seat. “And your early bedtime if you let JJ hear any of that.”

He finishes with a pinch on their nose before closing the van door and getting back in the driver’s seat. 

Riley, as soon as the radio turn on, starts protesting very aggressively to listen to “your songs, daddy! Play your songs!” 

Thankfully, he has a CD burned with some of their…cleaner songs for that exact purpose. 

Riley, for lack of a better word, was ‘singing’ along at a volume that Remus would’ve otherwise found hilarious and impressive if it wasn’t right in his ear. Still, there was a certain fondness that came with watching his kid’s excitement over his work—something that, as usual, was paired with thrashing within the confines of a car seat and headbanging their little heart out. 

Along the drive Remus made every attempt to stop the barrage of the screamo singer in the making, but all were ultimately unsuccessful. At least…until he pointed out one particular building out of a strip mall assortment. 

“Hey, you see that store right there? The one with the red sign?” He spoke up, catching Riley’s eager attention in an instant. They placed both hands on the van window to look out. 

“What is it?” They asked, squinting to try and read what was on the sign. 

“You know the snake on my leg?” Riley nodded, quieting down. “That’s where JJ took me to get it.”

They paused, seemingly putting some pieces together in their head.

“How come you only have one?” They asked, still kicking their legs against their seat. “JJ has lots, how come you don’t have lots too?”

Remus chuckled, continuing along the road as the light turned green. 

“‘Cause I don’t need another one. They’re very expensive, you know.”

“Is it ‘cause you’re a wimp?” 

Remus choked on his own spit. 

“N-no,” he choked out, laughing. “No I’m not, I just think it looks better this way.”

He didn’t bother looking into the backseat to see what Riley thought of that answer, but if the return to karaoke that followed was any indication, they were not impressed. Still, he’d probably take the teasing over the screaming, but kids are kids. 

Even as they pulled into their driveway, Remus had to strategically dodge Riley’s flailing limbs in order to un-fasten the seatbelts on their car seat and actually get them in the house. Apparently the music was not as vital to the ‘sing-along’ as he’d hoped it was when he turned the car off. 

“Alright, alright, calm those legs down before you knock my teeth out, will ya’?” Remus teased, placing Riley on his shoulders where they instantly took fistfuls of his hair to hold on. Riley toned down the velocity, but otherwise did not stop. “Careful, squirt, if you wanna’ kick so bad, I’m signing you up to play soccer.”

Riley stopped almost instantaneously, gripping Remus’ hair even tighter as they headed back inside the house, Riley’s tiny backpack slung around Remus’ forearm. 

“Nooo,” they wailed, half punctuated by laughter that echoed through the house. 

“What are we complaining about?” Janus spoke, leaning against the doorway across the room with a fond smile. 

“He said if I kick him in the teeth I have to play soccer,” Riley whined, attempting to climb down from Remus’ shoulders on their own. Janus snorted a laugh before swiftly crossing the room to collect their child and place them on their hip. 

“Wow, your daddy’s so mean,” Janus agreed, raising a challenging eyebrow as they stood in front of their husband. Remus pouted before bending down to steal a kiss.

“Gross,” Riley giggled, pressing a hand on each of their parents’ faces to separate them. 

“Gross?” Janus smirked. “Well in that case, maybe your dad was being a bit unfair.”

Riley turned to Remus to stick out their tongue at him. 

“I mean, soccer? That’s just ridiculous,” Janus continued, a mischievous glint in their eyes. “We’ll obviously have to sign you up for football instead. A punt like that has got to be put to good use.”

Riley immediately went back to their dramatized complaining, this time reaching desperately for Remus to get him to take them back from Janus—to which Remus just held up his hands in mock innocence.

“No can do, kid,” he smirked. “The punishment has to fit the crime, after all.”

Riley continued their attempts to wiggle out of Janus’ unyielding grip.

“Never!” They declared, trying a different approach of reaching over Janus’ shoulder to escape from behind. “I won’t! I won’t do it, I promise!”

Remus and Janus both knew they wouldn’t actively try to hurt either of them, but sometimes it was just more fun to assert rules when it came with shrieking laughter and climbing their parents like a jungle gym.

“Well, now you know where we stand,” Remus spoke in false authority, reaching for one of Riley’s tiny shoes and holding it up to address it as if it were in control of their legs. “I better not see you around these parts again, ya’ hear?” He added in an over-the-top western accent, gesturing to his face. 

Riley squealed with laughter as he held out his hand for a handshake and they shook it with their accused foot. 

“Alright, alright, you two,” Janus intervened with fond exasperation. “Snacks are on the counter, take it or leave it.”

Riley whipped their head around to peer into the kitchen, cheering when they spotted two plates on the kitchen counter, each with a toaster waffle piled high with blueberries. 

“Second…breakfast!” They cheered, drumroll-ing on their leg before whooping and slinking out of Janus’ grip and climbing up onto the kitchen barstools. Remus, giving a fond eye-roll at the enthusiasm, turned to drape his arms over Janus’ shoulders from behind, perching his chin on top of their head. 

“They get it from you, you know,” he mumbled, smirking at the scoff it earned him. 

“Shut up,” Janus grumbled, the smile evident in their voice. “That is all you.”

“Babe, sports are a threat in this house,” he teased. “You’re telling me that came from me?”

“Yeah, I’ll take that one,” they chided, turning around to face their husband. “As long as you’re aware that the energy, the volume—honey, that’s all you.”

Remus quirked his brow with a proud smirk. 

“Or maybe it’s the fact that they sleep for fourteen hours and we haven’t even had eight in the last six years,” he challenged knowingly. “You know, I happen to remember that back in the day…that bed was hardly even for sleeping.”

Janus snorted, their face reddening slightly.

“Is it bad to think of those as the ‘good old days’ already?”

Remus swept a piece of their hair out of their face. 

“Hell no, dude. We lived like kings back then,” he chuckled. “How ‘bout this—I’ll get Ro to take ‘em to the park or something this weekend and I’ll dick you down just like old times, ‘kay?”

Janus sputtered out a cackle, smacking Remus on the chest before covering his mouth with their hand.

“Fucking christ, they’re like two yards away,” they hissed, still laughing. “I am not going to be the one fielding questions about what getting dicked down means, oh my god.”

“You say that like they listen to anything when there’s food in front of them,” Remus countered, nodding in the direction of their kid as Janus rolled their eyes with a chuckle. 

“Now that, is from you,” they grinned, jabbing him in the side with their elbow. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re serving up delicacies like toaster waffles,” Remus said, raising his hands in mock defense. 

Janus gave him a look before crossing their arms. 

“Yeah, well, you’re lucky I know you can’t go two hours without food. Go on, there’s one for you, even if it’s probably cold by now,” they teased as Remus excitedly kissed their forehead before practically running to the kitchen. He hopped up to sit on the counter, folding each toaster waffle like a blueberry-filled taco before funneling them into his mouth. 

Janus followed close behind—at a normal pace, thank you very much—and took the actual seat next to their kid, sipping at the cup of tea they had left on the counter before the two had returned home as they listened to Riley regaling their day at school.

———

Realistically, Remus probably should’ve seen it coming. He was a couple days past his previous record of days as Riley’s “favorite” and he knew he likely didn’t have much longer before Janus dethroned him again, but he certainly hadn’t expected the scene he walked in on that night. 

He had heard hushed laughter coming from one of their house’s bathrooms that evening, assuming at first that Janus was just handling Riley’s bath or something like that, but as he cleaned up the mess from their dinner and finished washing the rest of their dishes, he was surprised to find they were still in there. So obviously he had to investigate. 

He knocked on the door, rolling his eyes fondly as shushing and giggles came from within. 

“Everything good in there?” He teased, leaning against the door. “I gotta’ say, I’m a little hurt I didn’t get invited to whatever club this is that hangs out in the bathroom.”

More giggles followed by the oh-so familiar sound of Janus’ shushing. 

“I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself what all the fuss is about,” he sing-songed, slowly creaking open the door before letting out a snort laugh at the scene before him. 

Janus was seated on the edge of the bathtub, wash cloth in hand, as Riley sat on the sink counter, covered on all limbs with temporary tattoos. At least the pieces of tape that Janus had cut into circles and colored black to look like ear gauges were admittedly cute. 

“Oh, I see how it is,” he smirked from against the doorframe. 

“JJ said you’re a wimp,” Riley proudly announced. “I was right.”

Janus stuck their tongue out and made a spitting noise and…yeah, that was their kid alright. Not that Remus would have it any other way. 

#anyway.......i would die for them #my writing #tsbandau #sanders sides #ts remus #ts janus

[rosyfingereddawnn]

That’s The Way

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: none, this is kind of an introductory/fluff chapter if you will :)

Story summary: Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary seventeen-year-old girl, gets pulled into the world of rock and roll on a fateful night at the Marquee Club in London when she experiences the musical phenomenon of the Five Live Yardbirds. She grows up fast, navigating her way through the downfall of The Yardbirds, the legendary skyrocket of Led Zeppelin, era-defining decadence instigated by the ‘60s and ‘70s mindset of free love and personal gratification, and finding the courage to express how she fell deeply in love with one of modern music’s greatest guitarists.

Author’s notes (from Molly of rebel-without-a-zeppelin): Hi everyone! A little disclaimer on my part: this is the first story I’ve ever shared for public consumption. I’ve been toying with this idea in my mind for a very long time now, and I’ve finally mustered up the courage to share it with you all. I hope you like it. I am incredibly honored to collaborate with Syd on this project; this is truly our baby, as it has a very long, detailed, intricate plot, so saddle up for lots (and lots) of drama! This is also a sloooowwwww burn, like really, really slow lol. Over the course of the story, please feel free to send me your theories and comments; I would absolutely love to read them. Please enjoy, and happy reading!

---------

3 May 1965

The sound of a car horn beeped incessantly from the front of Y/N’s house. Dropping her backpack down on her bedroom floor with an annoyed huff, she sprinted down the steps. She never did get enough time to prepare, and it was no different today. With her friend Carolyn in tow, Y/N made a beeline for the front door, the click-clack of her Oxford shoes pounding across the hardwood floor. Y/N’s mum, who nonchalantly strolled out of the laundry room with an armful of freshly washed and folded bath towels, leant against the doorframe.

“Now remember Y/N: no drinking, no drugs, no sex. No going home with strange musician guys, nor are you allowed to go to their hotel,” her mum instructed calmly, knowing she’d receive an eye roll from the girl. Her stern expression at home on her gracefully-aged face, the girls receive the speech they get every time they go out.  “You too, C. Even though I’m not your mother, I still worry about your safety.”

Both Y/N’s mum and dad had a very protective instinct over their eldest daughter, just like their other three children. Even at Y/N’s healthy age of seventeen, she longed for the freedom and trust that her older brother had gained at her age.

“Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Carolyn replied with a little laugh.

“Mum! This is literally the fourth time I’ve been to a Yardbirds gig, and nothing bad has happened,” Y/N huffed. Her mum raised her eyebrows.

Lillian, Y/N’s little sister, walked into the foyer and surprised Y/N with a big, tight hug around her waist. Y/N gasped at the sudden contact, but chuckled when she realized it was her younger sister, and reciprocated the hug.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Y/N. Boys are icky. And stupid!” Lillian said in a whiny voice, her face muffled by being buried in Y/N’s stomach.

Y/N ruffled her sister’s muss of dirty blonde waves affectionately, rubbing her back to soothe her worries. “I promise, I will come back perfectly fine! I won’t let any boys mess with me, Lil,” Y/N said with a smile, “And when I come back, I’ll tell you everything that happened.”

Lillian gazed up at Y/N with a similar smile, her small teeth shining a bright, pearly white and her chin resting on the taller girl’s stomach. “Okay,” she said, content, before releasing from Y/N with a stuffed animal tucked under her arm.

“Where’s Charlie?” Y/N asked, hoping she could say goodbye to her younger brother before she left.

“I think he’s riding around the neighborhood on his bike with his friends,” Y/N’s mum replied with a shrug. Y/N felt a little disappointed, but she figured she’d talk to him tomorrow at breakfast about her night out.

Thomas, Y/N’s older brother, continued to honk the horn rather obnoxiously, growing quite impatient. It’s a wonder the neighbors weren’t at arms, knocking on their door. He was forced by his parents to be Y/N and Carolyn’s chauffeur to the Marquee Club in London.

“We have to go, or else Tommy will have my head,” Y/N said as she started to open the front door.

“Wait!” her mum said, sloppily placing the towels down on a nearby counter to dash to the door and give Y/N a hug and a kiss on the head goodbye. Finally pulling away her weathered hands flew to Y/N’s shoulders, and gripping them firmly, she continued, “Be good. Love you.”

“I know, I will. Love you too,” Y/N smiled, before dashing down the steps and to the passenger seat of the car. Carolyn was in quick pursuit, following her to the car and taking a seat in the back.

“It’s about time,” Tommy huffed impatiently, tapping his fingertips on the top of the steering wheel as he put the transmission into drive.

“Sorry. Mum was giving me and C a safety brief,” Y/N replied apologetically.

“Why are you two still in school uniforms?” he snorted, shifting to look over at the girls; their studious appearance of white oxford shirts, sweater vests, plaid kilts, white knee socks, and smart oxford shoes would be quite out of place among the audience at the show.

“No time to change, just like usual,” she replied, turning on the radio, soft melodies pouring out at a low volume.

The three drove in silence, except for the sound of the radio playing, until Carolyn had dozed off on the somewhat lengthy car ride. Occasional small talk between Y/N and her brother permeated the quiet that fell over the group, but it picked up when they were only a few blocks away from the venue.

“You gotta stay safe in there, Y/N,” Tommy said, looking straight ahead. His teeth clamped down sharply on his bottom lip: a dead giveaway to the nerves he must have been feeling.

“I know, Dad,” Y/N joked, punching him lightly across the shoulder. Her bright smile wavered and fell when she saw his grim expression.

“I’m serious, you know. I don’t want my sister being pestered by some wankers in a blues band.”

Y/N smirked at her brother’s sudden defensive behavior. “I can take care of myself. Trust me. This isn’t my first rodeo. You should’ve seen the first Yardbirds gig we went to. Utter chaos...” The tilt of her lips signalled that she was joking, and Tommy huffed out a laugh.

Carolyn, stretching with a grunt, had miraculously woken up just as Tommy pulled up to the front door of the Marquee. Glancing at the venue with awe dancing in their eyes, Y/N and Carolyn disembarked from the car, walking closer with the façade of calmness and competency.

“I’ll be back later to pick you girls up. Have fun, but not too much fun,” Tommy rolled his window down as he said this, winking playfully.

Y/N waved to her brother as Carolyn thanked him graciously for the ride. Arms linked, Y/N and Carolyn entered the famous Marquee. Nervousness and anticipation began to pool Y/N’s stomach as she was greeted by the decadent atmosphere of the club: the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat hung in the air as her eyes were flashed by many people mingling about, dressed in typical mod clothing. Y/N and her friend looked at each other, feeling like aliens in their intelligent dress. They tactfully made their way through the crowd as they found their way to their usual spot, a small leather-upholstered booth set against the wall near the stage.

“Today might be the day, Y/N,” Carolyn said as they settled into their seats.

“I don’t know,” she replied, smoothing out her skirt, “the idea of that is both scary and exciting to me at the same time. We’ll just roll with the punches, I guess.”

“Which Yardbird do you have your eye on?”

Y/N smirked as she thought for a moment. “Hmm...I’m not sure. I guess they’re all pretty cute in their own way. What about you?”

“Yes, I agree. But I must admit, I do have a very soft spot for Chris Dreja.”

“I’ll pray for ya, C,” Y/N chuckled.

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, backstage, five live Yardbirds were performing some pre-show rituals in the hopes of easing the preliminary anxiousness. Jeff, Keith, and Jim were peeking out the little sliver of curtain that allowed them to see their gathering audience.

“Look! It’s those two schoolgirls again!” Jeff pointed to the two teenage girls in school uniforms, chatting in their booth waiting for the show to begin. They were huddled together in conversation, legs daintily crossed as their faint giggles floated over to them. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the sound, though he recovered quickly, not wanting his bandmates to get any ideas.

“What’s wrong with that? They must like us,” Keith replied.

“I think they’re both really pretty, especially the one with the Y/H/C hair,” Jim pointed out, trying to be as subtle as possible.

“Yeah, maybe we should invite them backstage after the show… have a nice little chat,” Jeff winked at the singer and the drummer cheekily.

After taking a final glance at the two conversing girls, the three returned to the backstage area where Paul and Chris were. Jeff immediately enlisted Giorgio, their manager, to complete the agreed-upon mission. Jeff loosely draped an arm around Giorgio’s shoulder before bestowing the request as politely as possible. Not trying to be suspiciously polite, of course, because everyone in the band and its entourage were firsthand witnesses of Jeff’s temper and stubbornness. Yikes.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to do me a favor,” Jeff said to Giorgio with a mischievous smile.

Giorgio rolled his eyes, knowing this “favor” would have to do with scouting girls from the audience. “What d’ya need, Jeff?” he sighed exhaustedly.

“Don’t complain, please,” Jeff deadpanned. “There are two pretty birds in the audience, wearing their school uniforms. They’ve been coming to our shows for a little bit now, and they seem nice—”

“You want me to bring them backstage after the show?” Giorgio interrupted, somehow telepathically knowing, by routine, what the guitarist’s request would be.

“You finish that sentence like you know what I’m about to say.”

“That’s because I do, Mr. Beck,” Giorgio retorted sarcastically, “this happens a lot more often than you think it does.”

“Whatever,” Jeff grumbled moodily, knowing he was right, before walking back to the group of musicians in preparation.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N and Carolyn continued to gossip happily about what was happening at school, not a care in the world. They felt the stares of older men in the club, who silently disapproved of their knee socks being scrunched by their ankles, because that wasn’t the “proper” thing to do. But they didn’t care. Who are they to judge?

Every teacher scolded girls at school who did the same thing, because they didn’t want their long legs to be “tempting” or “distracting” any boys. A bloody nuisance, is what it is.

The girls were snapped from their thoughts by the sound of a heavy guitar tone being blasted through the speakers in an opening riff. Their eyes were stapled, almost transfixed to the stage as they took in the five sharply-dressed men in front of them, singing their songs and playing their instruments.

As much as Carolyn enjoyed The Yardbirds and music in general, Y/N had a rather deep connection to it, odd enough as it was. She could play the piano fairly well, so she understood where these musicians were coming from cognitively and creatively. From what she’d read in magazines about current popular musicians, like The Yardbirds for example, she liked the same music they did. Y/N understood dynamics, tempo, tone, key, and musical notation, just like they did. Perhaps she’d be able to get into an intelligent musical conversation with at least one of them one day.

Two straight hours of hits, obscure songs, and blues covers from The Yardbirds’ catalogue were played for the Marquee Club patrons, hypnotizing its drunk and high onlookers with polished musicality and instrumentation.

As the final song concluded, both Y/N and Carolyn, unbeknownst to the other, felt a sinking feeling of disappointment that fell like a pit in their stomachs. They wouldn’t have the chance to meet the band. No one from the entity had approached them yet, and momentarily the five live Yardbirds would be exiting the stage for the night.

After they said their goodbyes and thanks to the crowd, they disappeared behind the curtain. The main lights of the club brightened to signal that the show was over, as the voices of all the patrons raised in rave of the spectacular show they had just witnessed.

Discouraged, but still in light spirits at what they had just seen, Y/N and Carolyn stood up from their seat and headed for the front door. Y/N expected her brother to be waiting in front; it was late, so might as well not make him wait longer than he needs to.

Y/N and Carolyn were merely a few feet from the door when Y/N felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around to see a man with a dark beard already baring a jovial tight-lipped grin at her, the girl was quite surprised, maybe a little weirded out, but she reciprocated the gesture as genuinely as she could.

“Hello sir, what can we do for you?” Y/N greeted, discreetly nudging Carolyn to help her out and become a united front with her in front of this stranger.

“Good evening ladies, I was sent by Mr. Jeff Beck to offer you an invitation backstage to hang out with the band.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped and her face broke out into an obvious mad blush, much to her dismay. She was internally screaming. The Jeff Beck had spotted them in the crowd?! This had to be a dream.  Wait, this could be a complete drunken buffoon trying to trick them. Y/N remembered what her mother had said, and took the proper precautionary measure.

Y/N smiled in the most composed way she could. “Thank you for such a gracious invitation! Could I ask your name, if you don’t mind?”

“Giorgio Gomelsky, manager of The Yardbirds,” he replied, in a seemingly proud manner.

Okay, this was real. Y/N knew that Giorgio was definitely the manager’s name. She turned to Carolyn, who looked just as excited as she was.

“What are your names, dears?” Giorgio asked, pulling them out of their daze of what seemed like a fake reality.

“I’m Carolyn, and this is my friend Y/N,” Carolyn piped up, excited that she finally got an opportunity to speak to someone close to The Yardbirds.

She internally agreed to let Y/N handle the “diplomacy” part of the introduction, knowing that she was best at that. Carolyn knew her friend was quite shy, so she knew to step in when Y/N was starting to feel anxious. She noticed Y/N starting to fiddle with her fingers while talking to Giorgio in the most collected way she could muster; as excited as Y/N was, Carolyn knew she was growing very nervous.

“Well, it is certainly lovely to meet you both. So, what do you say? Would you like to meet the lads?”

After one final glance of excited mutual agreement, Carolyn replied, “Yes, we’d love to.”

Giorgio led the pair of girls back the way they came, through a sea of inebriated people, but this time through the backstage door. Y/N made an appoint to walk behind Carolyn, in an attempt to collect and relax herself. She was starting to sweat a little, her stomach doing flips and her hands becoming cold and clammy.

~~~~~~~~

“Our guests should be arriving any minute now,” Jeff said as he was placing his guitar back in its case.

Chris was standing and chatting with Paul in a corner when he turned around in surprise at the news. “Guests? What guests?”

“We had Giorgio invite two girls from the audience to come back here,” Jim replied, walking over to sit down in a metal folding chair.

“And why weren't we made aware of this?” Paul asked, as he walked to get another metal folding chair to place near Jim.

“It was their idea,” Keith replied, pointing two fingers between Jeff and Jim. Paul and Chris just nodded in recognition.

“I didn’t hear you disagree, Relf,” Jeff clapped back. He then told Chris and Keith to get some chairs for themselves and the two girls that would be walking through the door at any second.

Before Keith could respond, a couple knocks resounded in the room, signalling the arrival of the guests. Jacket lapels and ties were quickly straightened, even though each person was still glazed with quickly-drying sweat from the show they had just played, before the room fell unnaturally quiet as Giorgio opened the rather squeaky door.

The initial tension in the room that lasted a split second could be cut with a knife. Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, a cold sweat already running down her back, as five pairs of eyes landed on her, Carolyn, and Giorgio, warm smiles following suit.

She felt like internally combusting.

“Boys, this is Y/N,” Giorgio broke the momentary silence by introducing her, “and Carolyn.” Y/N smiled shyly and sent them a little wave, a dusty shade of pink seeping its way to her cheeks. Carolyn’s greeting was much more exuberant than Y/N’s, as she took the initiative to go over and shake all of their hands amiably. Y/N realized she had to follow her friend in order to make a good first impression.

Knowing that the boys wanted to spend time with the girls without being chaperoned, Giorgio left the room to attend to other business affairs.

Upon first glance, Y/N was the most beautiful girl that four of the five Yardbirds had ever seen. Perfect features, long legs, a calm, gentle, sweet demeanor… Just an absolutely angelic young woman; a vision.

Jeff had obviously recognized her beauty, from seeing her at multiple shows, but he thought she was way out of his league. He decided to focus on getting her to laugh and relax around them, because he noticed just how nervous she looked. She was turning pale right in front of his very eyes! Paul and Chris began to internally question themselves, how have I not seen this girl before? She is so gorgeous! Jim had been glancing at her sporadically throughout the show, soaking up her faraway presence. He noticed how her eyes glistened in childlike wonder as she watched them do what they did best: perform the Chicago blues.

“Well, it is very nice to meet you both,” Keith replied enthusiastically. “I’m Keith,” he alluded to himself, then pointing to the other members of the group while giving their names, “and this is Chris, Paul, Jeff, and Jim.”

“I mean, we know who you guys are, but it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” Carolyn replied. Y/N nodded in agreement.

“Come and sit down! Make yourselves comfortable. We don’t bite,” Jeff joked, motioning to the open chairs. The girls smiled and accepted his invitation, Y/N taking a seat between Jeff Beck and Jim McCarty, while Carolyn took a seat between Keith Relf and Chris Dreja. The chairs were arranged in a circular formation, so each person could talk to the other with ease.

“Tell us about yourselves!” Paul initiated, “I think Y/N should go first though, because you haven’t said too much yet,” he laughed at the last part. Y/N giggled (a little too idiotically for her own liking), but she felt herself become starstruck at how her name sounded coming from one of their voices.

Y/N clenched her cold, clammy hands in her lap as a method to ease her anxiety before starting with a smile. “Well, I’m from Saint Albans. This is our fourth time, I believe, coming to see a Yardbirds gig. Carolyn and I came to see you with Eric Clapton once, and then this is the third time with Jeff.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic! I guess I see where your favor lies in terms of guitarists,” Jeff responded playfully.

“I guess you’re right,” Y/N laughed, “I will admit that I love what you’ve done with the body of work. Clapton was a blues purist, which I respect, and he’s great, but I think your playing is much more interesting and unorthodox.”

Paul, Jim, and Jeff all raised their eyebrows at Y/N’s comment. They were impressed with how she understood their musicality.

“Are you a musician?” Jim asked Y/N.

“Not in your sense of the word,” Y/N chuckled, “But I’ve been playing the piano for most of my life, so I understand music. Probably more than your average female audience member,” she added with a grin.

“That’s so cool! Are you classically trained, or is it just a hobby?”

“Classically trained,” Y/N admitted to Jim shyly.

“Oh wow, so you’re the real deal,” Jeff added.

“I’m not a professional, so I’d say no,” Y/N laughed.

“You probably know more about music than all five of us combined!” Paul said.

“Well, I know that you know much more about the blues than me!” Y/N answered playfully.

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Paul smiled at Y/N. She cursed herself in her mind for feeling weak at Paul’s simple sentiment, but tried to keep her composure as best she could.

The four of them, especially Jeff and Y/N, began to bond over their love for different musicians. Y/N expressed her love for Chet Atkins and his fingerpicking style, Scotty Moore’s lively soloing style, and Robert Johnson’s slide technique and open tunings, rendering the three men shocked at her knowledge on the subject. Y/N loved how easily Jeff could make her laugh, and how interested Paul and Jim were at whatever she had to say, significant or insignificant. Chris Dreja, who was in a little group with Keith and Carolyn, occasionally spaced out of his conversation to hear what Y/N had to say.

They bonded for about an hour and a half about everything and nothing, until Y/N abruptly realized that Tommy was probably waiting for a while outside for her and her friend. She apologized to the band profusely for such a sudden departure as she and Carolyn walked towards the door.

“Say you’ll come visit us again after the show?” Jeff called to Y/N as she turned towards him in the doorframe.

“Absolutely,” she smiled brightly.

---------

Thanks so much, hope you enjoy!!

Taglist: @y0uth--anasia @reincarnated70sbaby

#jimmy page #led zeppelin #that’s the way #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page x reader #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The One Who Got Away

Summary: While out with friends one night, the reader bumps into her old high school best friend, Jensen. They always had a will they, won’t they relationship but the reader finds things with Jensen don’t seem to be going as well she thinks they are...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 7,700ish

Warnings: language, angst, family drama

A/N: For the purposes of this fic, Jensen’s wife and kids are fictitious...

____

“Oh my God,” said Carla. She nudged you and nodded over towards the other end of the bar. “Look at the guy going up to do the karaoke.”

“He’s hot,” said Nora, sipping on her beer. You spun around in your seat, catching the back of the man, his friends he was with obviously egging him on. You tilted your head, wide eyed when the guy spun around up there.

“Holy shit,” you said as he started to sing.

“I know. Plus he can sing,” said Carla.

“No. I mean...I know him,” you said.

“Yeah, he does look familiar. Is he an actor or something?” asked Carla.

“Yeah! Wasn’t he on that superman show? Oh that other guy was hot too,” said Nora.

“No. I mean, well yes, he was. He had his...own show for a while,” you said. 

“You like a fan?” asked Carla.

“Go get his autograph when he’s done!” said Nora. “I’ll go with you if you’re nervous.”

“Guys-”

“I want his autograph,” said Carla.

“You’re married to Nolan,” she said. “I know he’s revolting but still.”

“Oh, Nolan is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I can still look,” said Carla. “Speaking of which, Miss I’m engaged.”

“I’d have to fight Dan off over that guy,” said Nora. “And I’m trying to be a supportive friend over here before Y/N fangirls too hard.”

“Guys-”

“I triple dog dare you to ask him as your date to Nora’s wedding,” said Carla.

“That’s evil,” said Nora. “I want in though. I’ll pay for your drinks tonight if you do it.”

“He was my best friend in high school,” you said, both of them going quiet. 

“Oh,” said Carla after a moment. “Sorry. We’ll shut up.”

“Yeah. Sorry, Y/N. We were only teasing,” said Nora. “My brother totally wants to go with you anyways.”

“I...I’m gonna go say hey,” you said, standing up when he finished singing. He got a few slaps on the back from his friends and took a seat, doing a shot as you slowly walked over. You froze for a moment. 

You hadn’t seen him since you were eighteen. It was more than likely he wouldn’t recognize you in the dim bar anyways. You shook your head and went to turn away.

“Kid?” you heard, gaze going back to his table. His friends were all staring at you but you only saw Jensen looking at you with a big smile. “Y/N?”

“Hey, Jens,” you said. He shot up out of his seat and immediately gave you a hug, pulling back with a goofy grin. “Been awhile.”

“Yeah it has,” he said, looking you up and down. “You look great.”

“You too. You finally grew into your body,” you said with a laugh.

“Took me long enough. You never had that problem,” he said, biting his bottom lip.

“Who’s your friend, Ackles?” asked one of his friends, a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Guys this is Y/N. She was my best friend in school,” he said.

“You mean the Y/N you had a super huge crush on?” said someone else. Jensen looked like a deer in the headlights, his other buddies wearing shit-eating grins.

“Remind me to kill you later,” mumbled Jensen.

“It’s cool, Jay, really. It was a long time ago. I just wanted to say hi,” you said. “I’ll uh...see ya.”

You immediately left, heading back to your table with a sigh.

“Y/N,” said Carla, shoving her credit card back in her wallet.

“Mhm?” you hummed, tugging your jacket on.

“You got a visitor,” said Nora. You turned on your stool, Jensen giving you a smile as he walked up. “Hi.”

“Hi,” said Carla.

“Hi,” said Jensen to them both before landing his gaze back on you. “Sorry about them. Guys are...shit heads.”

“It’s fine, Jensen, really. Like I said, it was a long time ago,” you said.

“It was,” he said. “Do you ladies mind if I steal Y/N for a minute?”

“Oh, steal her for all the minutes,” said Nora.

“You and Dan are my ride home,” you said.

“Maybe you get a ride home somewhere else?” she said with a shrug.

“Oh my…” you sighed, hopping off your seat and following Jensen outside and into the cool night air. “Sorry. My friends would get along great with yours.”

“You were never much of one with being friends with other girls,” he said with a smirk.

“Cause I was a tomboy,” you said. “I wasn’t exactly girly in school, Jensen.”

“So?” he asked, nodding down to your band tee. “I always liked your style.”

“I do wear skirts and dresses now, Jay,” you teased.

“I’m just saying, you be you. I always liked that version of you,” he said.

“What’d you want to talk to me about?” you asked.

“I have kids,” he said. “And I just went through a very quiet divorce about a year ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Remember how you always said I’d marry the first girl I wasn’t shy with? Well, you were right,” he said. “I never loved her the way I knew it was supposed to be. She was safe and I was scared.”

“Jensen. Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’m sorry for being a horrible teenage boy when I was eighteen and ruining our friendship. I had a crush on you from the first day of kindergarten and I never said a word. Tonight...I feel like a five year old all over again,” he said.

“You said-”

“I know what I said. I remember,” he said.

“I said some pretty awful things too,” you said, kicking the ground. “I told you that you’d fail if you went out to LA, that you weren’t any good.”

“I deserved it. I’m pretty sure I called you a bitch,” he said.

“You were pretty angry,” you said. “All because I went to prom with Dylan Anderson.”

“Dylan Anderson was a scumbag who bragged about who he had sex with in the locker room. He had this list of girls he wanted to try and get with just so he could be their first and you were on it. He was always asking me how to get in your pants,” he said.

“I never had sex with Dylan Anderson. You would have known that if you hadn’t stopped talking to me but oh wait, Jackie Morlan didn’t like you talking to me,” you said.

“Like I said, I fucked up. The one time I picked popularity over you and...I ruined thirteen years of friendship and the end of our senior year and none of our friends talked to you anymore. I know I fucked it up,” he said.

“What is your point?”

“My point is, I should have asked you to homecoming and prom and I should have had the guts to ask you out. We both wanted it. I was too shy and I treated you like one of the boys too much. I took you for granted,” he said.

“You can’t change that, Jensen,” you said.

“No, I can’t. I have two amazing kids and I wouldn’t change a thing when it comes to having them in my life. But if I could have done it with you, I would have,” he said.

“Jensen. I had the world’s biggest crush on you back then. I kept waiting and waiting for you and maybe I regret not saying something first but you know how little confidence I had back then. I’m a big girl now, Jens. I don’t just say yes to the pretty boy because he asked,” you said.

“I just wanted to apologize,” he said with a nod. “You grew up very beautiful, Y/N.”

He turned and headed down the sidewalk, your own eyes shutting.

“Wait,” you said, Jensen’s footsteps stilling. “What did you say to Dylan Anderson? I know you said something because he didn’t even try to make a move on me at prom.”

“I told him if he hurt you, I’d hurt him,” said Jensen. “He could have easily kicked my ass but I sounded pretty scary when I said it.”

“So we stopped talking and you still had my back?”

“That’s what best friends do,” he said with a shrug, turning to face you.

“Why’d you really get a divorce?” you asked.

“She stopped loving me in that way,” he said with a sad smile.

“Jensen.”

“She cheated on me and I pretended it wasn’t going on because I thought I deserved it for not being around so much,” he said.

“You’re an idiot,” you said. “You don’t deserve that, Jay.”

“I know,” he said. “Listen, I’m sorry for bothering you tonight. I should have just kept my mouth shut.”

“Hey. Red light green light,” you said, Jensen tilting his head.

“That was...that was your thing,” he said.

“It was our thing and just because we never did it with you doesn’t mean we shouldn’t start,” you said.

“That’s not-”

“I said red light green light. You remember the rules,” you said. “You came up with them.”

“Green light,” he said.

“You’re lying,” you said. He sighed and shook his head as he crossed his arms.

“Fine. Red light,” he said. “What’s the point?”

“Red light means let’s go find someplace that still has ice cream this time of night and we talk until you feel better,” you said.

“We aren’t teenagers anymore,” he said.

“No. We’re not. But red light green light really helped me on some bad nights and I think it’ll help you too,” you said.

“I gotta head home. The kids are getting dropped off in like twenty minutes,” he said.

“Jensen.”

“Go tell your friend you’re riding with me then. And hurry. I don’t want to be late.”

“The one time she’s early,” grumbled Jensen as he pulled into his driveway. You slid out of the car and saw the driver’s side on the the other one open. “Hallie.”

“Jensen,” she said, glancing at you. “Moving on finally?”

“She’s my friend,” he said, opening her backdoor. “Where are the kids?”

“In the house watching cartoons,” she said.

“You left them in the house alone? They’re four and three,” he said.

“They’ve been in there fifteen minutes, they’re fine,” she said. “I’ll be out of town with Wes the next three weeks so you’ll have them 24/7.”

“Starting…”

“Tonight,” she said. “I have to head home and finish packing if you don’t mind.”

Jensen waved her to leave, rolling his eyes after she backed out.

“That’s your ex-wife?” you asked.

“Yup.”

“No offense but she kind of seems like a bitch.”

“She is,” he sighed. “She suckered me. Jokes on her though. Glad I listened to my parents and got a pre-nup.”

“Way to go Ackles,” you said, Jensen smiling. 

“She only has the kids one day a week anyways. It’s very hard explaining to a small child why their mom doesn’t want to see them,” he said.

“She purposefully doesn’t have the kids more?” you asked, following him in through the front door.

“She was never overly affectionate with them. She’s been slowing leaving their lives for the past year. I wouldn’t be surprised if she asked I have full custody within a few months,” he said.

“How on earth did you wind up with someone like that?” you asked.

“Because she acted like someone I wanted. But like I said, pre-nup. She’s got a pretty stupid rich out his ass boyfriend now so she’s happy,” he said, kicking off his shoes as you followed him inside. You looked over and spotted a little girl and boy sitting on the couch watching cartoons. “Hey guys. It is so past your bedtime.”

“Mommy said we could watch,” said the girl, a little bit bigger and taller than the boy nearly passed out next to her.

“Well it’s past your bedtimes,” he said, flipping the screen off and picking up the girl. “How was mommy’s today, Harper?”

“We watched cartoons,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Is that all you did?” he asked.

“Yeah. Wes came over. I don’t think he likes me and Taylor,” she said. Jensen seemed to ignore the comment but he pursed his lips, looking at the boy half-asleep.

“You want me to get him?” you asked. He smiled and you picked Taylor up, the boy tilting his head at you with green eyes. “Wow. You look so much like your daddy.”

“You smell pretty,” he said, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“He’s so cute,” you said.

“Wait until it’s five am and he’s peeling open your eyelids,” said Jensen with a smirk. “Alright. Let’s get you two squared away.”

Ten minutes later you headed back downstairs with Jensen, Jensen sighing as he went to the freezer and pulled out two pints of ice cream.

“I forgot how much easier that is when two people do it,” he said.

“Your kids are adorable,” you said.

“They’re worth dealing with she who shall not be named,” he said, giving you a smile and handing you a spoon.

“Your house is beautiful too,” you said, taking a seat at his kitchen counter. He hopped on top of it, starting to dig into his ice cream. “So what’s got you feeling red light?”

“Do we have to do this?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. That’s the rule. If you feel like shit, we eat ice cream and talk until you don’t feel like shit,” you said.

“This used to be easier when it was you feeling crappy, no offense.”

“We don’t have to fix it all tonight, just talk,” you said.

“I’m an asshole and you still want to make me feel better,” he said.

“Best friends have each other’s back from what I hear,” you said. He chuckled, nodding his head. “So what’s up?”

“Nothing. Same crap I’ve been dealing with for awhile,” he said.

“You seemed okay until we were outside the bar.”

“Because sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if we hadn’t had that stupid fight,” he said. 

“I could have said something too, Jensen.”

“No you couldn’t have,” he said with a sad smile. “I knew your weak spots and I hit them. Jackie was stuck up and I never should have started hanging out with her.”

“She was the prettiest girl in school,” you said.

“No she wasn’t.”

“Jens-”

“No she wasn’t. She had to put on a mountain of makeup and a push up bra and wear tight little shirts. There was someone else far prettier around,” he said. “And I was scared of ruining us so I kept it down and then when Jackie started pulling me away, I called you a prude and told you to act more like a girl and you totally should have kicked my ass for that.”

“I spent my first year of college being a girly girl you know,” you said. “Make up every morning, hair, preppy clothes. Frat parties, joined a sorority, hooked up with a guy on a bet. I spent my first two years of college like that.”

“Why?”

“Because boys started paying attention to me. People started to talk to me,” you said with a shrug. “My dad thought something was wrong, like I was having some kind of reverse breakdown or something.”

“What about the second two years?”

“A frat boy tried to spike my drink,” you said.

“Really.”

“Yup. I knocked out three of his teeth,” you said with a smile.

“That’s my girl. You thought it was silly when I taught you how to throw a punch too,” he said.

“Well after that whole incident, I quit my sorority and started fresh. I met Carla and Nora in a study group. Those were real friends. We sat around and ate pizza and cookies and looked like shit and we had a blast. We would dress up and go out sometimes but it was different. It felt like I found a balance. It was nice having girl friends for once,” you said. “They’re the ones that reminded me that acting like a girl means not taking anyone’s shit.”

“I like your friends,” he said. 

“So we had a fight in high school. You obviously regret it and I regret it and...maybe something would have happened, who knows. But like you said earlier, you got two great kids upstairs and I’d never take that away from you,” you said.

“Can we start over?” he asked. “From before our fight?”

“In that case, you owe me a dollar for lunch money,” you said, Jensen breaking out into a laugh. “I’m serious. With inflation that’s like five bucks.”

“I can take you to lunch tomorrow to make up for it,” he said. 

“I thought we were starting over,” you said. Jensen nodded and hopped off the counter, walking around to you.

“Oh, we are,” he said. You stared at him as he leaned down and kissed you, cupping your cheek gently.

Oh shit he was better than any teenage dream you’d had could have been. He was soft and sweet and he tasted like bourbon and vanilla. There was a spark in your stomach that raced through your veins, quietly vanishing as he pulled back. You breathed and looked up at him, Jensen licking his lips.

“I already told you. I fucked it up the first time. I’m not doing it this time around,” he said. “What do you say?”

“You’re blushing,” you said, touching his cheek, feeling the heat in it. You reached your hand around to the back of his neck, Jensen letting you pull him into another kiss.

“Can I take that as a yes?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s a yes.”

“For my own edification, back then, if I wasn’t so scared…”

“It would have been a yes,” you said.

“That’s what I was scared of,” he said with a swallow.

“Jens. Stop being scared,” you said. “Please?”

“Alright,” he said with a nod.

“Red light green light?”

“Green light,” he said. “I feel better now. Promise.”

“Good. Now what fancy rich neighborhood do you live in cause I need to get an uber home.”

“Hey, Y/N?” asked Jensen when you answered your phone as you were heading out for your lunch date the next day. “I got a slight problem.”

“Yes…”

“My last minute babysitter had to cancel last minute,” he said.

“Bring the kids with,” you said. “I don’t mind.”

“Really?” he said, his voice light and happy like he was a kid himself.

“Yeah. Let me get to know the whole family,” you said. “If you’re okay with that.”

“Yeah, totally. We’ll meet you there.”

“Hello Ackles,” you said, spotting them in a booth at the restaurant. 

“Hi!” said Taylor from the other side of the table, tucked between the wall and his father.

“Hi Taylor,” you said, sliding into the empty spot next to Harper. “Hi Harper.”

“Hi,” she said, a bit more quiet than she was the night before.

“Guys, this is Y/N. She was my best friend in school,” said Jensen. “She’s hopefully going to be hanging out with us more lately.”

“Do you play pretend too?” asked Harper.

“No. Your daddy was very good in all of our school plays though. He even got me to do it one year,” you said.

“You hated that,” he said.

“Yes, I did,” you laughed. “I’m a sound engineer.”

“Really? I thought you were going to be a marine biologist,” said Jensen.

“Well, one required way less schooling,” you said. “So you know how singer’s record in a studio? Well I’m one of those people that helps turn what people sing into an album.”

“Do you know Taylor Swift?” asked Harper.

“No, no. Sometimes I work on commercials too. I do a lot of different stuff. It’s really fun,” you said.

“Can you sing like daddy?” asked Taylor.

“Nope,” you said. “What about you guys? You good singers?”

“I’m amazing,” said Taylor.

“Mhm,” laughed Jensen. “So, Y/N-”

“Harper’s having a pool party tomorrow for her birthday. Are you gonna come?” asked Taylor. You stared at Jensen, Harper scowling at her little brother. 

“I didn’t know there was a party,” you said.

“I don’t want a party anymore,” said Harper. “Mommy won’t be there.”

“Sweetie, all your friends from pre-school will be there. Don’t you want your birthday party?” asked Jensen. Harper shook her head, Jensen staring blankly for a moment. “We’re having your party, Harper.”

“I don’t want it,” she said.

“How old are you turning, Harper?” you asked.

“Five,” she grumbled.

“My mom wasn’t at my fifth birthday either,” you said. Jensen gave you a smile, Harper looking up at you. “Can I come to your party, Harper?”

“Okay,” she said. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

“I can take her,” you said.

“Thank you,” said Jensen as you slid out, following Harper back to the bathroom. You waited inside with her, helping her get up to the sink and dry off her hands. By the time you were back out, a plate of french fries was in the middle of the table. “All good?”

“Yeah. Can I have a hotdog?” she asked.

“Sure. You wanted mac and cheese, buddy?” asked Jensen, Taylor nodding. “Y/N, order whatever you want. It’s on me.”

“I’ll just get a cheeseburger,” you said. “Harper, I like your braid. It’s very pretty.”

“Daddy did it,” she said. “He’s really good at playing dress up.”

“I bet he is,” you teased. He rolled his eyes and ordered when the waiter came over, making small talk for the most part with you and the kids.

“Hey guys,” said Jensen as he put down some money to pay. “You want to hang out at Uncle Jared’s tonight for a few hours?”

They both nodded excitedly as Jensen looked at you.

“Dinner?” he asked. You smiled and he looked relieved. It wasn’t until you were outside and he packed up the kids in the car that he brought it up again. “Sorry. This has been a total disaster of a first date.”

“No it wasn’t,” you said. “They sort of come with the package.”

“Thanks for earlier with Harper. She really wanted me to cancel her birthday party this morning,” he said.

“Speaking of which, what does she like? I got to run to the store and grab her a present,” you said.

“She’s got toys out her ass,” he said. “Some money in a card is fine. I’ll put it in her savings.”

“Would she like a blanket?” you asked, a silly smirk crossing his face. “Blankets always made you feel better when you felt crappy.”

“She likes pink,” he said.

“Alright. I’ll find her something,” you said. “Where do you want to meet tonight?”

“I can pick you up at your place at seven?” he asked.

“Alright, that sounds good,” you said.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“I know it doesn’t seem like it but you just gave those two more attention in an hour than their own mother’s given them in six months,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me for talking to your kids, Jensen. You don’t have to thank me for that,” you said.

“I’ll text you later,” he said. “And thank you.”

“Alright. I’ll see you later, Jens.”

“Hi,” said Jensen when you slid into his car that night, Jensen looking you up and down. “You look gorgeous.”

“You look very pretty too,” you teased. “Where are we going?”

“BBQ?”

“That’s my boy,” you said. He was quiet as he drove, asking you more about your work as you parked and ordered your food. It wasn’t until he was halfway through a pulled pork sandwich that he started to blush. “What is it Jensen?”

“I’m doing it aren’t I. I won’t shut up,” he said.

“We’re catching up is all,” you said. “I don’t recall you ever being a singer in high school.”

“Well, it’s not exactly something you brag about,” he said. “I’m not any good anyways.”

“You sounded pretty good at karaoke,” you said. “You could make an album for fun. Plenty of people do. Those are actually my favorite projects to work on.”

“Maybe. I’m busy enough with the kids and brewery. I got a movie I’m supposed to film in a few months. Only like four weeks but I’m gonna fucking hate being away from the kids that long. My parents are going to have to watch them,” he said. “Signed on before we got a divorce and everything.”

“Can’t she take the kids?” you asked.

“Honestly, I don’t trust her. About two years ago, Taylor was still a baby, she really started to show her true colors. The nanny was the one raising the kids. I mean, I’m not claiming to be world’s best dad or anything but at least I change a diaper and give ‘em a bath when I’m home. Now they’re getting older and they’re starting to think mommy doesn’t like them. Unfortunately, I think that’s true,” he said.

“You weren’t joking earlier about thinking she wants to ditch them, were you.”

“No. In the long run, it’ll be the best thing for them. But it’s gonna suck. I hope they’re small enough to not let it get to them,” he said.

“I barely remember my mom,” you said. “Shit, your mom was the one that got me through my first period.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I was over your house and went to the bathroom and it happened and she was so nice about explaining everything to me. I think my dad was a bit relieved we didn’t have to have that talk,” you said. 

“My parents ask about you every once in a while,” he said. “Ask if we ever made up.”

“I assume they’ll be at the party tomorrow?” you asked, Jensen nodding. “Well, you can tell them we have now.”

“Harper’s not gonna have a mom pretty soon,” said Jensen.

“Do I have to tell you how a period works?” you asked, Jensen chuckling.

“No. No. It’s just hard to be dad and mom sometimes. I know it’s going to happen too,” he said.

“Well, when it does, I want you to remember that your kids are better off with just you,” you said.

“I’ll try,” he said. “How’s the brisket?”

“Crap, crap, crap,” you heard a guy say as you got out of your car at Jensen’s the next day. You rushed over and helped him catch a bag that was falling. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” you said, giving him a smile.

“I haven’t seen you around before. I’m Jared,” he said.

“Y/N,” you said, Jared raising an eyebrow.

“Wow. Like the Y/N Jensen was puppy dog in love with?” he asked.

“My reputation precedes me with Jensen’s friends apparently,” you said. “We met up a few days ago again. Talked through some stuff. We’re...trying it out.”

“I don’t even know you and I already like you better than the bitch,” said Jared. “Sorry. That’d be-”

“I know who you’re talking about,” you said, glancing at the bag. “Looks like Harper’s making out pretty good.”

“I’m the godfather. I’ve got to spoil her rotten,” he said. “I used to work with Jensen.”

“Yeah, you looked familiar. Your hair’s much shorter now, right?” you said.

“Yeah. Jensen was so excited,” Jared laughed. “I’ve been thinking of growing it out again. Well, I’m glad you made it.”

“Glad Harper invited me,” you said, following him down the driveway and around to the backyard, spotting a few kids and adults around.

“Hey, loser,” said Jensen with smile.

“You’re the loser,” you said, looking to Jared when you heard him echo the sentiment back. 

“Well now I really like her,” said Jared, setting his bag down near the pile of presents. “Speaking of which, where’s the birthday girl?”

“Last I saw, Gen and my sister were keeping an eye on them in the shallow end,” said Jensen. 

“Well I better go say hey,” he said, taking off as Jensen gave you a smile. 

“Thanks for coming,” he said as you sat down a small bag on the table. “So what’d you get her?”

“Eh, it’s nothing,” you said with a shrug. He hummed and crossed his arms. “I got her Harry Potter and a soccer ball.”

“That’s actually kind of perfect. She starts soccer in the fall and she’s ahead of her age group reading wise. She’s actually really ahead,” he said.

“You were always a good reader. Plus kids love Harry Potter,” you said. 

“I’m sure she’ll love it,” he said, your lips turning up when you caught sight of his older brother coming over. “Hey, Josh. You remember-”

“Little shrimp. Hard to forget Y/N Y/L/N,” he said with a laugh. “Did you let him sucker you into being his friend again?”

“We’re kind of dating,” said Jensen quietly.

“No shit. You do have a pair on you after all,” he said, slapping Jensen’s back. “Hey Mac!”

“What!” she shouted from across the yard.

“It took them more than ten years to get together! You lost!” he shouted.

“Mow your own lawn loser!” she shouted back. 

“No way! A bet’s a bet!” said Josh as he headed off, not without turning around. “I always told Jenny-”

“Joshua. Leave before I drown you at my daughter’s pool party,” said Jensen, closing his eyes.

“Fine, fine,” he said, waving Jensen off. “You know I’m pretty sure you gave him his first boner and-”

“Josh!” said Jensen, his brother cracking up as he left. “That’s not true…”

“We’re not at that stage yet so let’s just go with the old standard,” you said.

“Josh is a dick?”

“Josh is a dick,” you laughed.

“I can agree to that,” said Jensen. “So bathroom is right through there. If you want to change out of your swimsuit, just find a place in the house that’s free. We got presents and cake in like an hour but other than that, it should be pretty laid back.”

“Cool. I’m gonna go say hey to the birthday girl myself and I’ll swing back around later.”

“Thanks for helping pick up,” said Jensen, tossing a streamer in the garbage bag that evening.

“It’s no problem,” you said, looking around the yard. “I think that’s the last of it.”

“Yeah. Hey you want to hang out? We were gonna do a little backyard bonfire. If you want to,” he said.

“Sure. I do want to change out of these wet clothes first though,” you said. He hummed and you walked back out to your car, grabbing your bag as Jensen showed you down to the guest room. 

“Shit,” he said, the door already closed. “Forgot, my brother’s family is crashing in there tonight...and my parents are in the other guest room and my sister’s family is taking over the family room.”

“Don’t you have a bedroom?” you joked.

“True. I don’t want you getting the wrong idea though. I mean...you know what I mean,” he said.

“Just point me towards a shower and I’m good, Jens,” you said. He showed you towards his room and told you to take your time. Your jaw practically dropped when you were alone. His house was gorgeous but the bathroom was anyone’s dream come true. “Shit Jens. Somebody did well for themselves.”

You set your bag down on the empty vanity and pulled out your new clothes before hopping in the shower. You were pretty sure you would marry it if you could have but you didn’t want to waste all the water on Jensen and quickly were out and changing into some sweats and a tee shirt.

“I’m all set,” you said, giving Jensen a smile as he padded around in his bedroom.

“You got a hoodie?” he asked. You shook your head, Jensen walking into his closet and out a few seconds later, tossing one at you. “Take it.”

“Thanks,” you said. You gave him his privacy, catching his parents watching the kids in the family room. “Hi.”

“You owe me five bucks,” said his dad to his mom. “Told you those two would wind up together.”

“I was the one that said that!” she said, rolling her eyes.

“She’s delusional as always,” he said, standing up and giving you a hug. “How you doing kiddo? You got all grown up.”

“Yeah, been a few years,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Jensen said he ran into you a few nights ago. I’m so glad you two made up,” said his mom. “He could really use a good friend right now.”

“Grandpa, Daddy says he used to be best friends with Y/N,” said Harper, already face first into her Harry Potter book. 

“We’ve known Y/N since she was your age, Harper. She practically lived at our house,” he said. 

“She lived at your house?” she asked.

“It’s just an expression. I went over your daddy’s house a lot to play,” you said with a smile. “So, Jensen said fire in the backyard? Am I to assume the famous Ackles smores will be served?”

“You help pack up the kids for outside and we’ll get this thing going.”

“Hey, shrimp,” asked Josh a few hours later, the kids all up in bed in the house aside from Harper who was passed out on Jensen’s chest.

“Yes, Joshua,” you said, sipping on your beer. 

“How’re Drake and Devin doing?” he asked. “We sort of fell out of touch when they moved up to New York.”

“Those guys are good. Off being lawyers. Shockingly enough they didn’t get in the NBA like they planned,” you said with a laugh.

“Wasn’t that the boys plan?” teased Mac. “Your older brothers were like super hot though.”

“Your older brothers were super hot,” you said. 

“Josh was not hot,” said Jensen.

“When I was 14 and you got an older brother, he was pretty hot at the time, Jensen,” you laughed.

“I always knew shrimpy had a crush on me,” he said.

“Uh, no. That was reserved for someone else,” you said.

“I wonder who that could be,” said Jensen, pulling a yawn and stretch, putting his arm over your shoulders.

“How’s your dad doing, Y/N?” asked their dad. “He retired yet?”

“No. No. He’s still got a few years left he says. My brothers and I keep trying to get him to quit but we think he doesn’t want to sit in an empty house by himself,” you said.

“He never found anyone, did he,” said Jensen.

“No. After my mom got sick, he focused on us and on work. I think that’s part of the reason me and my brothers were always over your guy’s house so often. Dad was always working two shifts. You guys fed us dinner most nights of the week,” you said, pursing your lips, catching the look on his parents faces. “You knew that, didn’t you.”

“It was always obvious that you and Jensen had a special friendship,” said his dad. “You two were attached at the hip from day one. When you started coming over to play, we started noticing a few things. We had a conversation with your dad one night before he picked you up. We offered to help. He was reluctant but we found out what happened with your mom and he let us help eventually. That was around the time your brothers and Josh started playing together too.”

“I know,” you said, staring at the fire, feeling Jensen rub your shoulder. “The Ackles were always nice to the Y/L/N’s.”

“I’m gonna put Harper up to bed,” said Jensen, nodding for you to follow. “We’ll be back in a minute.”

He picked her up easily and brought her into the house, returning down to the kitchen with a smile after a moment. 

“My sister in law is conked out but I think they’re fine,” he said, heading back for the back door. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just remembering...when we fought, I sort of lost your family too,” you said.

“I know they’ve only tried to embarrass me about fifty times today but my family did always love you too, Y/N.”

“You love me?” you asked.

“I did. A friend love for sure. We still have to figure out the rest of this. I’m not ready to say it. I may never be,” he said.

“I enjoy just hanging out again,” you said. “Even if your family apparently made a lot of bets on us getting together.”

“You haven’t even heard half of them,” he chuckled. “Come on. I bet there’s still some smores left out there.”

Two Days Later

“Hi guys,” you said, spotting Harper and Taylor playing with some chalk in the driveway. “Where’s your dad?”

“He got a big letter in the mail. He went under the front porch,” said Harper, pointing down towards the front door, Jensen sitting at an outdoor table with his back to you.

“Alright. Well, your dad invited me over for dinner so I’m gonna go say hey and then I’ll be right back,” you said. You made sure they were okay on their own before you wandered down and poked Jensen on the shoulder, Jensen nearly jumping out of his seat. “Sorry.”

“Y/N, no, it’s fine. You’re early,” he said, looking at his watch. “Or not. Shit. Shit, I was supposed to have the food in the oven and those two need to get out of the sun.”

“Alright. You take a minute to yourself and I’ll get them inside and washed up, okay?” you said. Jensen nodded and you rubbed his arm as you walked past. You gathered up the kids, letting them show you where they kept their chalk in the garage, leading you inside and showing you around a little before you got them both washed up at the kitchen sink.

Jensen made his way inside by the time you were in the family room playing with them. He forced a smile on his face as he worked in the kitchen a moment, closing his eyes once he had the oven door shut.

You left the kids and wandered over, Jensen sighing as he shoved some papers back in a manila envelope.

“Jay...what happened?”

“She’s giving up custody. She filed the paperwork. All I have to do is sign apparently,” he said, running his hand over his face. “How the hell did I end up with a person like that?”

“Are they better off with or without her?” you asked.

“Without for sure,” he said.

“Then remember that. You love ‘em and that’s all they need right now,” you said. He nodded, letting a half-smile cross his face. “I’ll watch dinner and the kids. Go get your head on straight.”

“No, Y/N. I’m really okay,” he said.

“You’re really not. Go before I force your wimpy ass,” you said.

“Alright,” he said, gathering up the papers and taking a step out of the kitchen. “Y/N, I don’t know how you came back into my life at this exact moment but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Go on, Jens. I got everything covered.”

“Thanks for tonight,” said Jensen, the kids passed out in bed as you sat on his back porch. 

“Just because you knew it was coming doesn’t make it easier,” you said.

“You knew your mom was sick when you were little, didn’t you,” he said.

“Yeah. My parents told us. I didn’t understand really, not until after she was gone,” you said. “You’ll be okay, Jay.”

“I know. I don’t know how to tell them,” he said. 

“Tell them their mom isn’t able to be a mom anymore and leave it at that,” you said. 

“Harper’s the one that’s old enough to ask questions,” he said.

“Don’t say anything until it’s final. Maybe when she’s back from her vacation, she’ll say something to them, alright? Try not to stress too much and just enjoy the few weeks without her.”

Two Months Later

“Ackles,” you said, ruffling Taylor’s hair as you walked into Jensen’s house after work. “Where’s daddy?”

“Harper’s room,” he said with a frown.

“Something happen?” you asked.

“She thinks daddy’s getting rid of us too,” he said. 

“Oh, Taylor,” you said, picking him up. “Your daddy’s never getting rid of you. He loves you so much.”

“Mommy did,” he said.

“Come on, let’s go find those two,” you said, carrying him on your hip up to Harper’s room, Jensen scowling at her closed closet door. “I see it’s going well.”

“Harper. Y/N’s here,” said Jensen. The door flung open and she ran over to you, grabbing onto your leg.

“Make daddy stay,” she said.

“Stay where, sweetie?” you asked.

“Harper, I have to travel for work. It’s just a little while and I will be home every weekend,” he said.

“I hate you,” she said, letting go of you and storming down the hall. 

“I got her,” you said, setting Taylor down and going down the stairs after her. She moved pretty fast for a five year old and you barely caught up to her before she could rush outside. “Hey, you know you’re not supposed to be outside without a grown up, Harper.”

“Can we live with you? Daddy’s going away too,” she said.

“Harper,” you said, picking her up and carrying out to the backyard, settling her in your lap on the oversized swing back there. “Daddy isn’t going anywhere. He has to travel for work. He won’t be gone too long and he’s going to call you every single day. I promise. He’s not going anywhere.”

“Are you?”

“No. No, I’m not going anywhere either,” you said.

“Are you still gonna come over every day?” she asked.

“Of course. You and me are gonna bake cookies and go swimming and ride bikes. We’re going to do all the stuff we do now. Your grandparents will be here during the day is all,” you said.

“Promise?” she asked.

“I promise, sweetie.”

One Week Later

“Alright,” you said, Jensen tossing his backpack on his shoulders. “You got everything you need?”

“Well, I can’t bring the other things I want,” he said with a smirk. “There’s a couple of short people around here I’d like to accompany me but otherwise, I’m good.”

“Text me when you land,” you said.

“Will do, sweetheart,” he said, pecking a kiss on your lips. “Y/N. You really don’t have to come over every day just to hang out with the kids.”

“I know I don’t have to, Jensen,” you said with a smile. “We’ll try not to destroy the house too badly.”

“Thanks,” he laughed. “I’ll talk to you in a few hours then.”

“Talk to you soon, babe.”

_____

#spn #supernatural #jensen x reader #au #rpf #spn fanfic #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fanfiction

[wisherbysharlight]

My God if I could only say, I'm holding every breath for you

Description: Patton Hart has been pining for his best friend's twin brother and his boyfriends for as long as he can remember. Word Count: 3067 Ships: Patton/Remus/Janus/Virgil, background Logince, established Remus/Janus/Virgil Warnings: Remus being Remus, twins squabbling AO3 This is a gift fic for @sunshineandteddybears​ for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange​. The “summer romance” piece kinda got away from me, but this is definitely found family! I hope you enjoy!

Patton was wiping down the counters, about 15 minutes after closing, sunset shining through the windows as he hummed along to the radio, a sense of peace radiating through the store. 

Of course, that’s when chaos erupted.

“Pattycakes, you gotta save me!” Remus cried as he threw the door open so roughly the windchimes actually smacked against the window above the door before falling back down and jingling merrily to announce his presence. He ran behind the counter with no hesitation, gripping onto Patton’s waist. (Patton only shivered because of the burst of adrenaline. That was the only reason. No other possibilities. Nope.) Remus angled them both towards the doorway just as Roman came bursting in with the same amount of urgency, fire in his eyes and shirt dripping wet and seemingly tinted a particularly garish shade of greenish-brown.

“Remus, you can’t hide behind Patton forever, you bastard!” he seethed, and Logan, Janus, and Virgil came through the door behind him, much more calm, almost to the point where Patton would call them bemused. Logan took a seat at one of the small tables along the wall, pulling out his phone with a very evident intention to simply wait the whole debacle out, while Janus and Virgil both leaned up against the glass case in front of Patton. “Get out here and face me, you coward!” Roman bellowed again, clearly not giving up anytime soon.

Patton grabbed an empty paper towel roll from next to him and turned at the waist to whack Remus in the head with it, “Remus you cannot use me as a human shield, go answer for your crimes.” “Kinky. I’d much rather have you issue my punishment,” Remus joked with an eyebrow wiggle, then cackled when Patton made a strangled noise and shoved him back to the other side of the counter. However, as soon as he was in range, Roman grabbed hold of him and pulled him into a headlock and his laughter turned swiftly into a shriek of “Oh shit!”

They were 12 years old, tearing through the woods in a dual-friend-group game of manhunt the summer before 7th grade. Virgil was hot on everyone’s heels and adrenaline was coursing through their veins. Patton leapt over a log and turned a corner, hunting for a good place to hide. 

He heard a curse of “Oh shit!” echo through the woods before the sound of three branches breaking in succession, a huge crash, and a subsequent groan. He quickly pivoted and went sprinting back towards the house, and the sound, easily finding Remus splayed across the forest floor even in the dim light of the moon.

“Why would you climb a tree, silly goose? Don’t you know the branches are weak that high? Scared me half to death!” he chided as he fell to his knees beside him, already pulling band-aids out of his wallet in his pocket.

Remus grinned impishly up at him, and Patton felt his breath catch in his throat, fumbling with the wallet briefly in a way he prayed the other boy didn’t notice. “What’s a lil fear in the face of a bunch of excitement, Patty?” he crooned, and Patton shoved a handful of band-aids at him with little delicacy in his haste to move past the tease. “Besides, I have the best nurse in the world to patch me up when my fun does go south, apparently.”

Patton flushed and turned away, positive Remus could tell even in the weak light, but he couldn’t keep the earnestness out of his voice, “I’ll always patch you up, Ree. Promise.”

Remus didn’t get a chance to respond before Virgil burst through the bushes and tapped them both on the shoulder to get them out and a loud, extended debate began about the validity of the “injury time out”.

Janus leaned on the counter in front of Patton, jolting him out of his reverie. He pointed at the menu, with three shiny new additions at the bottom, “You finally manage to find a flavor sweeter than you, sugar?”

Virgil shoved him out of the way with an eye roll and a fond grin, thankfully distracting from how Patton felt his cheeks would melt the freezers. “He can’t stop flirting even for two seconds, I swear.”

Janus gasped dramatically, swooning against the counter and batting his eyes at Virgil like a starlet in an old black and white, “Maybe if you and Remus gave me the attention I deserve I wouldn’t need to hunt it down in beautiful, endearing ice cream shop owners.”

Remus snorted despite the way he was currently trying to claw his way out of his brother’s hold while being noogied like they were still teenagers and not fully grown and employed adults, “We could give you all the attention in the world, Janny, it would never stop you from flirting with Patton.”

Janus sniffed derisively at them, then cocked his head to the side as the song changed and smiled softly, “Hey, I know this song.”

Patton smiled brightly back, “Yeah of course, have it on all the playlists for the shop!”

“Simp!” Remus called over just as brightly, and Patton glared back at him, assuming it was aimed at him.

 “Ok, you look miserable,” Janus said, making Patton jump from where he was staring down at his water glass watching the liquid swirl around the glass as he moved it in little circles and maybe lamenting his singledom a little bit in the face of a dance floor full of sappy teenagers in fancy clothes enjoying the crisp June night and each other as their last hurrah before graduation.

Patton plastered on a smile, “Oh Jan, I am perfectly hap-”

Janus arched a brow at him, tsking lightly and just loud enough for Patton to hear and stop speaking. “Don’t try to lie to me, I know what you look like when you are actually happy, Patton. And also you’re a god-awful liar.”

“...yeah ok. I’m a little bit lonely, maybe, with Ro and Lo gettin their dance on for the romantic stuff. But I’m not mad, they’re in love, and I told them to go hang on their own. We’ll hang out at the beach house after!” He couldn’t help but glance at the dance floor, where Logan was leading Roman in a waltz that was perfectly on time with the music, lost in their own little world.

“Well Ree and V bailed for the beach early. Not exactly their style of music or dancing, or my vibe to make them do something they don’t enjoy just to get my feet stepped on. Why don’t we be miserable together?” The song changed, to a song with a more Latin-inspired beat that Patton knew only one of every 10 words to, and Janus smirked, “Maybe you and I can even make the most of it and I can score a salsa partner.” Janus ended his proposition with an exaggerated wink and bow, and Patton took his offered hand with a genuine grin.

Janus didn’t miss a beat, switching eye contact to Roman on a dime, “Hey, did you know Remus was the one who’s been screwing with your guitar’s tuning?”

“NONONO HE’S LYING,” Remus cried as Roman tightened his hold and doubled down on his attack, this time poking at his ribs and making Remus shriek in laughter.

As Janus watched Roman wrestle Remus down to the floor of the shop, clearly satisfied with the reaction he managed to get, Virgil nudged him over with his hip to take his place leaning across the counter and whisper conspiratorially, “I bet it was actually Logan. Bastard can get away with murder, I just know it.”

Patton couldn’t help but giggle, with Virgil’s playful smile and dancing eyes across from him, so open and trusting in a way he never was unless it was just the group of them. He smirked a bit, nibbled at his lip in consideration, then leaned in to say in an equally conspiratorial style, “Logan’s only involved to see how long it’ll be before anyone catches on. My record stands.”

“You are a trickster Patton Hart,” Virgil gasped in mock-scandal. He wagged his finger with his hand on his hip in a not-half-bad impression of Patton during a lecture, though he was unable to match his Patton-ted Disappointed Frown while he was grinning, “I’d never expect my partner in crime to be doing something like this without telling me, shame on you. You know I always have your back.”

 It was their last weekend of freedom before they started high school, and as per usual both twins had both their friends sleeping over. Patton woke before Logan and Roman, also as per usual, and snuck out of Roman’s room down to the kitchen, only to jolt as he found the light already on and Virgil sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Whatcha doin?” Virgil asked, legs kicking in the air in front of the cabinets lazily.

“Gonna try to make pancakes! I’m positive I won’t burn them this time, I just know it,” Patton enthused, then squinted suspiciously at Virgil, “What’re you doing?”

“Oh just hanging around, keeping an eye out in case anyone tries to burn the house down again so I can help out. Figured they might need a partner in arson crime, ya know, and I could let them know I’ve got their back,” Virgil teased, nudging Patton’s leg with a sock clad foot. He looked so precious with his sleep mussed hair and eyeliner from the night before smudged under his eyes that Patton couldn’t even bring himself to argue that he really didn’t need a babysitter. Honestly, he couldn’t even begin to pretend he didn’t want the excuse to spend more time with him.

 The twins’ argument grew more heated, finally managing to distract Patton from where he was a bit lost in the way Virgil’s eyes lit up when he was amused.

“You fucked up one of my favorite shirts!” Roman screeched as he attempted to give his brother a wet willy.

“You put red koolaid in my shampoo two weeks ago, you baby!” Remus cried back, shoving at his shoulder to try to get him off, and succeeding rolling them only for Roman to roll them straight back.

“I know you were the one who put my script out of order,” Roman fired back.

“You should have been off book anyway! And you broke bro code and told Virgil I was the one who deleted his X-Files off the DVR. You are just as bad as me.”

“You gave mom’s computer a porn virus and blamed it on me!” Roman protested, and everyone else seemed to simultaneously sigh as they descended into their usual back and forth of dredged-up pettiness.

“Oh you're still - you squashed my bug collection.”

“You left me stranded in the yard after Remy’s homecoming party senior year.”

“That was absolutely justified, you made me listen to you wax poetic about Logan’s fucking lips for 3 hours.”

“You made me listen to you wax poetic about Patton’s EVERYTHING for 13 YEARS”

Everyone in the shop simultaneously went silent in a blink of an eye. Virgil went white as a sheet and swung to look at the twins with wide eyes, Janus gripped the counter white-knuckled and looked at Patton with a similarly stunned expression, and Remus turned nearly as red as the sash on Roman’s favorite Prince Charming costume. He shoved Roman off of him for real, a more severe growl to his voice as he seemed to realize there was no way to play it cool, “You are such a fucking dick!”

Roman stammered for a moment, clearly trying to digest the change in tone and the weight of what he’d said, before waving his arms above his head in apparent bafflement, “It’s not like he didn’t know you all were into him!” 

“Roman,” Logan spoke up suddenly, gesturing at Patton and what Patton knew had to be a completely shell-shocked expression.

Roman looked up and went just as wide-eyed as the others, “Pat… did... did you not know?”

“...all of you?” Patton asked, then winced as his voice cracked in shock. He watched Virgil flinch and seem to retreat into his hoodie out of the corner of his eye, and Janus’ face smoothed over into a perfect mask of calm in the blink of an eye. He felt his heart break just a little bit at the disappointment in both of their eyes at what he was sure they saw as a rejection.

Logan grabbed Roman’s arm and yanked him away roughly, though Roman followed easily, “You all clearly need to communicate. I will handle this one.”

“Don’t wanna know about you handling my brother, poindexter,” Remus joked hollowly, sounding almost like it was a reflex with none of his usual cackle behind it.

Logan rolled eyes and headed out the door, tugging behind him a Roman who was fervently whispering, just barely audibly, “He didn't know, how did he not know,” to himself over and over again.

There’s silence in the shop for a while, just the sound of the radio faintly playing over the loudspeakers echoing off the walls as they all just stare at each other, not knowing how to start. Then Janus took a deep breath and spoke first, “Patton, I refuse to speak for these two clowns, but I will absolutely tell you that I, at the very least, have had feelings for you for many years, feelings which i was unaware I was not making perfectly clear, or that there was a chance of any sort of reciprocation.”

“Around 7 years for me, give or take. That first morning we made pancakes together,” Virgil added quietly, fiddling with the zipper on his sleeve.

Remus averted his gaze, looking nervous in the way Patton had only seen the day before he confessed to Virgil and Janus in high school, and admitted in the quietest voice Patton’d ever heard him use, “I don’t know exactly when, Pattycakes. You’ve always been there and as far as I’m concerned I’ve loved you just as long. And-and I just assumed it wasn’t returned.”

Patton swallowed thickly, trying to push back tears because he knew these boys and knew they would take them for disappointment rather than the joy they were. He dove at Remus first, vaulting the counter the way he always scolded Roman against and sliding to his knees next to the other man on the floor before crushing him in a hug. He flailed back at Janus and Virgil with one hand to pull them in as well, “Come here, all of you, we’ve lost so much valuable cuddle time!”

Patton was pretty sure Janus broke the sound barrier with how quickly he was plastered to his side and burying his face in his hair, and Virgil wasn’t far behind, wrapping an arm around his waist and burying his face in the crease of his neck and shoulder. Patton took that moment to be a bit daring himself and press a kiss to the corner of Remus’ lips, then giggled brightly when Remus grabbed hold of his cardigan and used it to pull him back in to kiss him full on the mouth with just as much passion and impulsiveness and laughter as Patton had always imagined. His mustache tickled Patton’s nose a bit but he leaned into it, humming happily in the back of his throat and feeling like a puzzle piece clicked into place.

Virgil only gave them a minute before he untucked his face from Patton’s neck and grouched that he wanted a turn. Remus let Patton go with a very put-upon sigh that didn’t match his playful grin, flicking Virgil on the nose lightly. “You gotta give him his kisses or he’ll never shut the fuck up,” he fake-whispered.

Patton grinned and turned readily to Virgil, and his lips met Patton’s in a much gentler dance. His kiss was no less deep or passionate for its caution, and his hands cupped his face like he feared Patton would float away if he didn’t hold tight. His fingers curled and twitched upwards like they wanted to bury themselves in his hair but didn’t want to overstep, so Patton took the initiative to grip the back of his neck and tilt his own head to encourage Virgil to do what he wished.

Janus was more patient, waiting for them to part for breath a few minutes later before taking hold of Patton’s chin from Virgil without a word and gently but firmly turning Patton towards him. Janus’ kiss could only be described as a caress, light and teasing and peppered with soft nips to his bottom lip before building up to something more solid. His warm hands rubbed calmingly up and down Patton’s spine and over his shoulders like he couldn’t figure out where he wanted to touch first.

Remus soon demanded he get another shot, then Virgil wanted another, then Janus again, leaving Patton so beyond cloud 9 he could barely think any more. They spent at least 20 minutes there on the floor, lost in each other, rotating kisses that were long overdue, letting their actions make the confessions their words hid from for years, not daring to move and break the spell of the moment.

Then a camera shutter sounded, paired with a bright flash of light that made them all jolt and look up in surprise.

“I said communicate you know, not make out on the floor,” Logan sighed, digging through his wallet to pull a 20 out to hand to Roman, who was grinning victoriously.

“I’m sorry for being a dick, but I had to do something and I told Logan the “accidental slip” would work,” Roman said as he pressed a triumphant kiss to Logan’s cheek and pocketed the 20, “But you have to admit it was a pretty great performance on my part.”

“Can’t believe I was betrayed by my best friends, I don’t know whether I owe you a scolding or a fruit basket,” Patton lamented playfully, cheeks hurting from how wide he was smiling. Janus ruined what little remained of the facade even more as he shifted slightly and pulled him into his lap and Patton clung tight to Virgil and Remus’ hands, with no intention of disconnecting any time soon.

#IntruAnaMoCeit #patton/dark sides #patton/remus/janus/virgil #polyamsanders #ts fic #i had no idea how to tag this #all sides #remus mention