#what the fuck was i doing with that benny x you x johnny thing???

[semperamans]

I can’t stop thinking about protective Benny ugh

me too, doll. me fuckin' too.

this can be triggering for some as there are mentions of unwanted contact and violence, so im gonna ask that you read only if you feel up for it!

he just wants to know who did it, s'all. that's what he tells you as he wipes your tears. "d'you know what they looked like, mm?" he's got his palms pressed against your cheeks, bent down practically on his knees in front of you. "remember anythin' at all, baby?" and you don't know :( not really. there are hundreds of bikers gathered in this forgotten field somewhere outside of chicago, all of them so fucked that they hardly know their name, and you thought you were safe standing at the fire with the wives and girlfriends while benny went to take a piss but no. your back had been turned when you felt the brush of an unfamiliar hand over the swell of your ass, smelled the offensive odor of a mouth that hadn't seen a toothbrush in god knows how long, heard the indecent words spiked with whiskey and ill-intent and benny just wants to know but you're sobbing these big wet sobs that he can't seem to get under control.

"he was- he had-" you're all start and no finish and benny just wants to put you in his pocket where no one can get you :( but he can't :( so he just brings you closer, presses your head against his chest, and lets you cry until you finally have the coherence to tell him about the spider tattoo on the assailant's hand. and okay, now benny knows and great, you're starting to calm down a bit. he consoles you, doesn't tell you it's okay because it's not but he is here. "m'right here. okay? feel me, honey. c'mon, give me your hands." he rubs your fingers over his cheeks, they're so soft, then you explore the coarse hair of his beard "m'right here. s'okay. nothin' is gonna happen to you." down his nose, across his jacket, venturing toward the studs that make out his intials and now you're more present just breathlessly hiccuping and latched onto the dingy white shirt benny wears beneath his cut. "need you to sit with johnny for me, okay? i gotta go take care of somethin'." johnny doesn't ask what happened because benny has that look in his eyes and he knows he'll be making a trip to county later if he's lucky or the pen if benny kills the guy, but that's just fine. johnny takes you, wrapping an arm over your shoulder, allowing you to hide your face in his neck because even in your state you know benny is about to make a scene. "m'gonna be back. okay? promise. stay with johnny. he's not gonna let nothin' happen to you."

time drips on in that sluggish, anticipatory way and you're practically asleep by the time benny returns. he no longer wears a shirt, just his denim vest that's splattered with blood and those worn levis with the knees practically blown out. you sit up so quickly it makes you dizzy. "s'alright." benny assures you, hands up in a placating way. oh, there's his shirt torn to shreds and being used as bandages for his no doubt destroyed knuckles. "gotta get outta here, yeah?" johnny helps you stand, passing your hand to benny's so so gently. "you're gonna stay with me tonight. need you call your momma and let her know you won't be makin' it home." and you don't go home. you spend the rest of the night latched onto benny like a woebegone infant and he doesn't mind in the slightest. “m’sorry, baby. won’t let nothin’ like that happen again.”

[hottpinkpenguin]

Letting Someone Go - Part 1

Benny Cross X Reader A/n: saw Bikeriders yesterday, needless to say I have a new Austin Butler character to obsess over <3 no better soundtrack to Benny Cross breakin' hearts than Zach Bryan. *the poem in this is lyrics from his song 'Letting Someone Go' Word Count: 2253 Warnings: cursing, alcohol use, Benny breaking hearts, angst, unhappy ending

What you had done to deserve Benny was beyond you. After all, you’d always tried to be a good person. Tried to do the right thing, to treat other people well. So who had you wronged so mightily as to deserve the torture that was Benny Cross?

“Hey. Hey! I’m talkin’ here!”

Sheila snapped at you, wrenching you out of your own miserable head. You dragged your gaze off of Benny, playing pool in the corner, and back to your friend. 

“Sorry, Sheils,” you mumbled. She rolled her eyes at you as you took a deep gulp from your Budweiser. 

“You’re still draggin’ ass about that man, aren’t ya?” She nodded unabashedly towards Benny, raising an eyebrow at you in question. You wanted to sink into the dirty floorboards beneath you, just get swept away in the sewer pipes or water table or whatever the fuck was below this personal hell you’d found yourself in. 

You shrugged, gulping down more beer in the hopes that it might dull the ache in your chest. 

“He ain’t worth it, hunnie.” 

You fixed Sheila with a hard stare. She shook off your glare, lighting her cigarette and blowing a plume of smoke up into the rafters. 

“I’m just sayin’, there’s plenty of guys ‘round here for you to shack up with. Benny’s just a loose cannon is all, who cares if he’s off ya.” 

You drank until your beer was empty. Your head was beginning to swim, but unfortunately the booze wasn’t touching the sadness that had sent you to the bottle in the first place. You stood up from your chair, pushing back from the table with a loud and clumsy clatter. No one really noticed over the thumping bass of the jukebox or the din of the crowd. You walked over to the bar, trading in your two empty bottles for two fresh ones. Zipco eyed you curiously from his usual seat at the back corner of the bar, but you refused to acknowledge him. Last thing you needed was another friend trying to cajole you out of your heartbreak. 

By the time you came back to Sheila, Wahoo and Corky had plunked down on either side of her. Probably trying to get her into bed, you thought darkly. And they’d likely succeed, based on how she was batting her eyes up at them. Usually, you welcomed the company of the Vandals, but tonight you found you could hardly stand them. Not necessarily that you wanted to be alone, just left alone. Sitting by yourself and knocking back an obscene amount of beer as you stared daggers into the back of Benny’s head was all you were really game for tonight. 

Rather than join the others, you swerved and walked towards the back of the bar, past where Johnny was sitting with Brucie, Gail, and Cal. The light was broken back here, and the shadows suited your dark mood quite nicely. You settled into a chair, tucking your legs up underneath you as you cracked open one of the new bottles and gulped down another greedy mouthful. Finally by yourself for the moment, you let your mind run wild over the last few weeks.

Where had it gone wrong? What did she have that you didn’t? And why the hell did you care so much, while Benny clearly cared so little? 

After all, it’s not like you and Benny were anything. You’d been sleeping together for a couple months, sure; but that was just the lifestyle. You’d been raised up on the back of your daddy’s bike. He was a founding member of the Red Devils of Hamilton, Ontario; so that made you practically royalty in the MC world. You knew what it was to be a Vandal before they’d even existed as an idea in Johnny Davis’ head. Hell, you practically taught Johnny everything you knew about how to run a successful club. 

That was probably why Benny hurt so damn much, you realized. You’d never admit it out loud, but this whole thing was ass backwards. You were the one that was supposed to run around and break the biker boys’ hearts. You were the one that wasn’t supposed to get attached, the one who would cut bait and run at the first sign of feelings. You were definitely not the kind of girl who’d get hung up on some loser just because he rode a nice chopper. 

But instead, Benny Cross had gone and played you at your own game. When you’d come back to Chicago to check on Johnny Davis’ pet project, you hadn’t planned to stay more than a few days, maybe a week. You had your sights set on California, on a small rancher high up in the mountains outside Crescent City. 

But then you’d met Benny. Benny with those piercing blue eyes, that gentle pillow talky voice, and the most gorgeous set of lips you’d ever kissed. He’d had you panting after him like a puppy dog within three days. A few days had turned into a few weeks, which had stretched into a few months. Now, you were still here, looking to spend your second Christmas in the cold. And unlike the last one, this Christmas would be a lonely one.

You’d been tangled up in Benny for the better part of a year now. He still drove you just as wild as that first time you’d seen him. Even from this far away, you could hardly stand to look at him without squirming. 

The first eight or nine months had been good. Maybe not great, but damn good. You’d wanted it to be fucking terrific, Lord knows you wanted that more than anything. But something in Benny just wouldn’t thaw for you. He was exactly the type of man that every other hard biker tried to be. He didn’t care about much, except his club. Didn’t show feelings for the simple fact that he didn’t have many, at least not the deep kind that you were desperate for. He was a detached, unbothered person. At first, you’d mistaken that for easy-going. It certainly made getting to know him nice and easy. But after nine or ten months, the edges of your relationship had started to turn brittle. While you were lying awake at night, daydreaming about getting a house together and getting married and maybe a baby or two, Benny was out doing the same old shit. Drinking, fighting. Generally avoiding anything that required commitment or persistence. Just livin’ life in the breeze.

But things had really taken a turn when she showed up. You could remember the night so clearly. It had been late fall, maybe two months ago. She’d come in looking like a misfit, all prim and proper in her white jeans and pink sweater, with her hair done up like Jackie Kennedy and her perfect eyeliner. Way too shiny and sweet for this kind of crowd. The guys had, predictably, gobbled her up with their eyes. No one more so than Benny.

The moment was seared in your memory: she was looking at the door, Benny was looking at her, and you were looking at Benny. Next thing you knew, Benny was gone, racing after her into the November air. You’d watched from the foggy window as she’d climbed on the back of his bike and they’d rode off down the street, all the while the club was cheering like it was fucking homecoming or something. Never mind that you were literally gutted, your heart trampled and lying like a used up bag on the floor of the bar. 

Benny had come back the next night, all hang-dog and apologies. All “I’m sorry baby, that was wrong” and “I dunno what came over me” and “I promise, it was nothing”. Both of you knew those were all lies, but only one of you really wanted to believe them. You were clinging on tight to the fading dream that was Benjamin Cross, meanwhile he was racing headfirst into the future that was Kathy Bauer. 

She kept coming around after that. That’s how you really knew that you were going to lose him. If that pretty little minx had kept her distance, then maybe Benny would have really been able to close that door. But she couldn’t. And, as much as you hated her for it, you couldn’t blame her. She wasn’t blind. She saw the same things in Benny that you did, you could tell just from looking at her expression when he was around. She had stars in her eyes, same as you. 

At first, Benny had put on a pretty good show of sticking by you. Even though the two of you weren’t officially anything, there was a code in the club. Fellas stuck by their gals, and vice versa. And, just by virtue of how long you and Benny had been, well, how long you’d been you and Benny, you were owed some measure of loyalty. 

But after a week or two, Benny was straying. Kathy would come into the bar and Benny would get this tiny smile. He’d find excuses to sit near her. Then it turned into talking to her. Then it turned into talking with her alone. 

Then he’d finally said the words you’d been dreading. 

“Baby, we gotta talk.”

No no no no no, you were screaming inside as you calmly sat down at the kitchen table of the small apartment you'd set yourself up in. Your hands were shaking, so you’d played with the nearest coffee mug until you’d chipped your nails. 

“Listen, darlin’, I… well, I’m not too good at this sorta thing.”

One tear had slipped out. You’d practically smacked yourself in a hurry to get rid of it. You couldn’t stand how upset he had you. 

“Just say it, Benny.”

Benny had tried to grab your hands from across the table - for what purpose, you couldn’t imagine. But you’d pulled away from him, your eyes burning. 

“I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to find someone else, baby. I swear. I just… it just… happened.”

Too many tears to wipe away now. You were squeezing the coffee mug so tightly in your palms that it was a wonder it didn’t shatter.

“It’s Kathy, isn’t it?”

Benny hadn’t said anything, just nodded. 

“And you’re moving in with her, aren’t ya?” 

To add insult to injury, before Benny even had the guts to properly break things off with you, he’d adopted a bad habit of sleeping on the back of his bike in front of her house. At least, that was what Cal told you. After you’d practically threatened to cut his throat with your blade. Not that you were much of a threat, but Cal had a soft spot for you and you knew it. You weren’t afraid to press on the soft spots when needed. 

Another single nod from Benny. You couldn’t tell if he was looking at you or not.

“So… you’re done with me then, yea? Is that what you’re saying?”

Another. Fucking. Nod.

And so, that was the end of it. A fitting ending, all things considered. Benny, quiet as the grave, just nodding away the entire future you’d dreamt up for yourself at his side. 

Unable to figure out what to say or how to feel, you just shrugged and let the tears slip off your jaw and plunk down onto the plastic checkerboard tablecloth. 

“Aight then, Benny, you best get your stuff and get out, then.”

You wished you’d have added some harsher words at the end, leave a little sting on him, but you didn’t trust your voice not to crack. So it had been your turn to stay quiet while Benny packed up his things - a shockingly small amount, you realized, as it took him less than three minutes to shove them all into a pillowcase. 

The final dagger had been when he’d hesitated at the door, looking back over his shoulder at you. You were exactly where he’d left you: sitting at the kitchen table, crying, that coffee mug turning over and over in your shaking palms. He’d turned back and walked over to lay a soft, sweet kiss on your forehead. The most affection that man had ever shown you had been in the goodbye that he’d made you say for him. It was an irony that you didn’t think you’d ever get over. 

As you sat in that dark, lightless corner of the bar, watching Benny shoot pool with Big Jack and Cockroach, Kathy leaning against a high-top table a few feet away and beaming at him, you thought about some ridiculous poem you’d heard once. If someone had put a pistol to your head, you wouldn’t have been able to tell them where you heard it or who wrote it or even what the rest of the poem was about. Just one line came floating back to you out of the back of your mind:

One thing I’ve come to know, nothing kills you slower than letting someone go.

**Read part 2 here! **Let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

[tickettride]

A good dad || J.D.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

pairing is johnny davis x wife!reader

in which your daughters want to keep the stray puppy they've found outside, and you have to convince Johnny that it's a good idea. it is, right?

word count: 2,2k

warnings: fluff, a bit of angst, allusions to sex, Johnny's such a grumpy dad, sixties relationship clichés?

A/N: : while I’ve convinced myself numerous times that writing one-shots isn't for me, Benny and Johnny have stuck in my mind and never left. why shouldn’t I fantasize about them and share these moments with you?

English isn’t my first language, but I’m having fun and that’s the most important <3

“Oh, your dad’s gonna be pissed,” you sighed, eyeing the girls as they watched you back with cute pouts. 

Maybe cute, but not enough to make you fold. That puppy right there, at your feet, wouldn’t be part of the family for long. You remembered broaching the subject once, trying to convince Johnny that having a dog could only be good for the girls. Running low on arguments, his response to you was just a look with a serious ‘What the fuck would we do with that?’. You had never talked about the idea again.

“We told you he was near the trash cans,” Lynn, your eldest, nearly burst into tears at the thought of letting go of the dog. “All by himself.”

The dog nudged your bare legs, tail wagging. You took a step back, knowing it would be harder to leave him at the vet if you only stroked him once. You were too damn kind for these kinds of things, and the girls knew it damn well.

The brown fur went to nuzzle against Joan next, who scratched him with more intensity than necessary. Her smile was huge, and her little giggle of happiness nearly melted you on the spot.

You shut your eyes for a second. Focus.

“Look at his ears!” Joan squealed, comparing her small hand to his head. 

“Careful, baby,” you warned her, willing yourself to have some sort of authority back. “Don’t scare him off.”

“I want to keep him!”

“And who would be feeding him when you’re at school?”

Your question raised a moment of silence you had expected. It made you sigh loudly again, leaning your back against the kitchen table. 

“That's what I thought. You exhaust me, you two,” you said in a breath, watching the girls hustling back to the living room on a mission to find the little beast a name.

You were fucked. All of you. 

Rolling your shoulders back, you spun around and ignored the noises above your head. You were fairly certain a family of mice had taken up residence in the walls, but it didn’t matter. You had greater issues as of now, starting with the dog jumping around the girls.

While their laughter filled the house, you finished pouring boiling water into your cup and dunked a teabag inside, watching the clear water turn a bloody red. What could you even tell Johnny? Maybe you could lie and tell him the girls’ new school project was to take care of a puppy for a few days. Make them more responsible. After all, your neighbor's son had taken care of a guinea pig once. 

No, you scoffed at yourself. Your husband was more clever than that. He would see right through you and ask for the truth that you would deliver because you were like that. You hated lying to him, just as much as you hated him lying to you. 

Ten minutes later, your eyes were focused on the tea between your hands. You almost jumped out of the armchair when you heard the jingle of keys being thrown into the drawer in the hallway.

The front door closed with a thud and the girls looked up at you, waiting for any instruction. 

And here you were, sacrificing yourself again for those two little monsters. Setting your cup down on the coffee table, you tried to appear as serious as possible and pointed a finger at them.

“Don’t move, okay? Don’t move and keep the dog with you both.”

“‘Kay Mommy,” Lynn grinned up at you, stroking the dog’s head resting on her lap. 

You gave them a brief nod and cursed at yourself when you stepped across the dolls lying on the carpet, those poor things looking as crazy as you. So you quickly smoothed down your hair and waltzed to the kitchen, where Johnny was removing his leather jacket and boots. Seemed like he had finally heard after all those times you had yelled at him to stop getting the floor dirty with soil and grease. 

“Darlin’?” 

Johnny snapped his neck to face you with that charismatic smile he was always giving you, hanging his jacket on the coat rack. He was always making your heart flip too.

You crossed the room in no time, wrapping your arms around his neck. Sometimes you just greeted each other with a quick peck, and that was okay too. But you had missed him more than usual today, huddling up to shed warmth. 

“Hi,” you whispered, hoping you looked as innocent as you sounded. 

His forehead knocked against yours, and you could feel the love rolling off him in waves when he pressed a quick kiss on your mouth. And another. His face went to the crook of your neck, pressing into the sensitive skin as he pulled you as close to his body as possible. So he had missed you too, maybe more.

“We just had dinner,” you muttered, breathing in the scent of smoke clinging to his skin. “Didn’t know when you’d be back.”

“It’s okay,” Johnny’s lips grazed your cheek. “I’m not hungry tonight.”

“You’ll change your mind when you get a taste,” you grinned, pecking his lips and forgetting for a second about the dog taking shelter in your living room. “C’mere.”

Johnny’s steps were heavy behind you, trailing to the kitchen counter. His body nearly collided with your back when you faced him again, lifting a wooden spoonful of tomato sauce to his mouth and thumbing his bottom lip gently. 

“How’s that?” you asked, biting down on your lip.

“You know it’s fuckin’ delicious, as usual,” Johnny hummed, giving a smile that made you smile too. "Love it."

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” his hand slithered back down your pants, steering around your backside and fondling you. 

A small chuckle escaped your lips, happy to be still feeding your man after six years of marriage. It was almost unimaginable how after all these years of being with him, you still wanted nothing more than to be close like a lovesick teenager.

“Where are the girls?” Johnny asked before he could do anything to you, licking his lips as he stole a glance toward the living room. 

That’s when the dog decided to bark. A low, high-pitched bark that made you want to kick him out yourself.

“Shit.”

Johnny stared back at you, no trace of that amused grin anymore. “What’s that?”

But he was already making a beeline for the other room, and you beat him to it to block his way. 

“Listen to me first,” you ordered, pointing that finger again at his face and swallowing when he looked down at you that way, the same look he gave in bed sometimes. “Alright? Listen. Joan found a puppy in the garden earlier, and I’ve told the girls we can't keep it.”

“And?”

“And they–well, they were waitin’ for you to come home,” you chickened out, making him huff. “C'mon, what was I supposed to do, hmm?”

Johnny scowled, staring impassively at you and skirting past your figure to have a look at the intruder. 

Mumbling another inaudible curse, you dared to look at the scene too. The dog was now curled on Joan’s lap, sleeping softly. They all looked so damn cute. Meant to be, you could say, if your husband didn’t look so unpleased.

“You’re kiddin’ me,” Johnny’s eyes widened at the sight and darted back to yours. 

“We asked everyone around if they knew him and they said no,” Lynn explained enthusiastically. “That means we can keep him. He must have lost his parents.”

“They did ask,” you muttered, though only Johnny heard you. 

“He's gonna be sad if we abandon him,” Joan was now the one gazing at you both dramatically, giving those sad eyes that usually made her father change his mind. 

Johnny stared at the moonlight slanting through the blinds. Ten seconds felt like forever. And eventually, he retreated to the kitchen. 

“Take him back where you found him.”

The girls' protests were in vain. Both were already calling for you, sniffling tearfully while the dog snored like a little king on his throne. They begged you to do something, and you knew you had to try. You hated fighting with Johnny, but you hated your daughters’ heartbreak even more. 

“Honey,” you started smoothly when you found him by the front door, wide shoulders and thick arms, a cigarette dangling between his lips. 

At least he had opened the door to let the smoke out. 

“Hmm?”

“We need to talk about this.”

“We don’t,” Johnny sounded casual, as though the matter was already settled. 

Angry, it was now your turn to scowl. You were already getting upset at his close-mindedness. Your dad had been like that–talking to your mom like she couldn’t have an opinion. Johnny knew you despised that attitude, and you certainly wouldn’t be the one to let a man get in your way. Even less when it came to the kids. 

You stepped closer to him, speaking lowly so the girls wouldn’t eavesdrop. “So you’re the only grown-up making a decision here? Is that it? You’re being selfish and… and clearly blind. You know how happy it makes them.”

Johnny’s eyes met yours, a breath of smoke separating you for a second. 

“You want the dog too?” his tone was dry. “Keep it then.”

“Hey, you’re acting like a jackass right now,” you snapped, so close to his face you could feel his breathing over your nose. “It’s a decision we both have to make. I’ve never seen the girls looking so excited by the same thing, Johnny. Taking care of that dog would give them a memorable childhood. Like mine.”

He let out a dry laugh, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Playing with my feelings now, aren’t you?”

“I don’t care,” you almost whined, so tired that the discussion wasn’t going anywhere yet. “Do you fear dogs? Is that why you don’t want it?”

“What?” Johnny scoffed. “No. The tiny shit isn’t goin’ to scare me anytime soon.”

“Tiny shit,” Joan sing-sung lowly, making her way toward you both. 

Beside her, Lynn was covering her mouth to suppress her giggles. The sisters exhanged a glance, more hopeful than you really were. 

“Bad word, Joan,” you warned, glancing down at the dog she was struggling to cradle in her arms. 

Deciding any of this wasn’t worth a fight, you let out a sigh and wordlessly turned your back on Johnny, kneeling before your daughters. 

“You’ll have to leave him at the doorstep, baby,” you said quietly, brushing a strand of her hair out of her forehead. “We’ll find him a new family tomorrow, okay?”

“Why?” Lynn asked, a sob catching in her throat. 

Joan was already tearing up, holding on to the oblivious dog like it would kill her to let go. You had no doubts she would be sad for an entire week, if not more. She was too kind, too. 

“We’ll talk about that in the morning,” you nodded at them, waiting for a nod back. When they did, it was truly the saddest thing you had ever seen. It nearly made you cry, too. 

That night, it was Johnny’s turn to tuck them in. You heard his voice from across the hallway, telling his girls he loved them. Small voices said I love you back. 

You walked from the bathroom to the bed silently, Johnny hot on your heels. 

“How long are you gonna be mad for?” his raspy voice broke through your inner thoughts, bringing you back to the present.

You slipped beneath the white comforter, a foot bumping into his.

“I don’t know,” you shuffled, turning your back to him and burying your head in the pillow. “How long are you gonna be an ass for?”

You had been expecting a response, but nothing came. Just a slight touch over your stomach to test the waters, slipping under your top when you didn’t tell him to stop.

“He’s downstairs,” Johnny muttered, clearly fighting to keep his eyes open.

“What?”

“The dog,” Johnny moved your hair so he could kiss your neck lazily. “He’s downstairs.”

Out of instinct, you tilted your head, allowing him to devour the side of your throat. It was hard to stay mad at him. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on his warm fingers. 

“How long for?”

“A week to start with,” Johnny replied, though you knew the dog was part of the family now. A week would turn into two, and then he would just forget about it. “Longer if he’s not a pain in the ass.”

You tried hard not to smile out of victory, reminding yourself how hard he had been to deal with. And how he was a pain in the ass.

Johnny's hand slipped over your hip when you rolled over to face him, a hand beneath your pillow. 

He swallowed, not quite smiling but not frowning either. You knew he was feeling guilty, always wondering if he was doing the right thing. If he was a good man. A good dad. Yet, you couldn't think of any man who would sacrifice himself like he did. Johnny never hesitated to work overtime and make sure you had all you needed, just like he had promised you all those years ago.

Your lips neared his, a bit bashful, just wanting him to know he could be forgiven easily. It was he who made the final leap by pressing his mouth to yours. His large hand filled the dip of the small of your back, remnants of the cigarette he'd smoked on his lips. A shiver trembled down your spine as your hand stroked his cheek gently.

"Don't sideline me," you pulled away, keeping him close to you. "Please. I know what's good and what's wrong for them."

"I know, darlin'," Johnny muttered back. "I wasn't implyin' that you didn't."

You nodded, keeping your eyes on him. “I’m sorry I got upset. I've had a long day."

Johnny’s lips turned into a smile. “And I’m sorry your man’s a jackass.”

You chuckled, eyes boring into his. “Yeah. Yeah, he is. But he’s a good dad.”

He nodded at your words, kissing your temple and holding you as though he would burn down the city for you. Another kiss was pressed on your forehead and all you had to do was drift asleep peacefully, hoping that dog wouldn't betray you.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

I would love a first date with Johnny storm, maybe after he gets his powers and we know he is kinda a playboy but I feel like after his powers he would want to find someone who wants him for him, and I was thinking that fem reader would be Reid's or Ben's shy sister, who likes Johnny but doesn't think he would go for her cause he's dated models and she's scared that he would be using her cause of him being a past playboy. Maybe some soft smut at the end, him showering her in affection and love, and I would love to see how everyone on the team would react to Johnny actually settling down

.⋆｡Just Perfect｡⋆.

Johnny Storm x plus size reader

First dates are never perfect but maybe this one could be

Warnings: reader is Ben’s sister, fluff, insecurity, mention of Johnny’s past, use of the word whore (Johnny was one it’s ok), swearing, implied smut WC: 1.1k

6k Follower Bingo Celebration

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

6:53 pm and you were rethinking your whole outfit. The dress was the wrong colour, it hugged you in weird places. The heels didn’t quite match the material and your makeup was subpar at best. You cringed as you looked at yourself in the mirror. “Fuck I can’t do it.” You turned to search for your phone but suddenly, the front door buzzer went off.

“No no no no. Why is he early?” You tripped over a rogue shirt, catching yourself on the bedroom door frame as the intercom crackled to life.

“Hey Baby Benny, you gonna let me in?” Your heart lurched at the sound of his croon, it was somehow still perfect even through the shitty speaker by your front door. “Oh wait, I know another way in. See you in a sec.” 

You darted for your purse, the one that definitely was not date worthy but it was the only one you had. You snagged the small brass handle that connected the strap to the purse, only noticing too late that a screw dropped from where it should have been and onto the floor. And just as the (locked) door to your balcony swung open to reveal a still smouldering Johnny Storm, the bar holding the d-ring together fell apart and your purse and everything inside it tumbled over the side of the hall table, slamming to the floor with the sickening sound of glass shattering.

“And that would be my compact.” Unable to fight it anymore, your shoulders dropped as the tears began to well up. “I’m so stupid.”

“Hey, hey baby.” Johnny’s warm hands curled around your elbows in a gesture you knew was supposed to be comforting but instead, it made you flinch away from him. This whole thing was too good to be true and you were a fool to think otherwise.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to pull out of his arms but Johnny didn’t relent. “You are definitely not stupid. Your brother? Oh yeah he’s the dumbest rock I’ve ever met. But you are a beautiful genius.” 

“No.” You whimpered though you stopped struggling against his embrace. 

The charming smile he was known the world over for faded as his blue eyes grew darker. This was not the Johnny who had so playfully asked you on a date only a few days ago, this was something a lot more dangerous. Though his grip did not tighten, you dared not to move away. 

“Johnny-“ 

“Baby.” He responded firmly. “Y/N. What’s going on? Do you not want to go on a date with me that badly?” Your heart dropped to your feet, never had you seen him so utterly distraught, so insecure. Johnny was confident, smooth- a playboy in the truest sense but now, he looked so small.

You had thought it was a joke at first, the way he slid up to you as you fiddled around with some of your brother’s tools with a sly smirk on his face. He got close, the heat of his body setting your own alight as he caged you against the kitchen table. “So whaddya say, go out with me?” There had been dozens of reasons to say no but in that moment, all you could do was say yes because this was the man who had stupidly captured your heart so long ago and you were powerless to say no.

Trembling hands pressed against his chest, not quite enough to force space between you but to feel the erratic beating of his heart beneath the thin (fire resistant) button up he wore. “You don’t know how much I wanted this. But everything is all wrong and I think it means that maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I’m not supposed to get you. I’m not-“

“Not what?” His hands fell to your hips and you almost caved.

“I know what I look like, I know who I am. I can’t compete with the supermodels and movie stars. I’m not the girl that gets the super hot superhero, that’s not how it works.”

“That’s a lot of supers.” He gently pulled you closer, your stomachs now pressed together and for a second, you swore you felt something hard against you but then Johnny continued. “You’re right,” you bit down on your lip as your eyes burned with tears once more, but he didn’t flinch,  “because you are something better. Fuck baby, you are so outta my league.” 

“No I’m not.” You tried to protest but you were quickly silenced by a gentle squeeze to your hips. 

His lips curled into a smile you had never seen before, gentle and yet somehow still demanding. He was almost glowing under your undivided attention. “Yeah you are and everyone knows it. You should’ve seen my sister when I asked her where I should take you for our first date. She told me that I should be maxing out a credit card to spoil you rotten to make up for my and I quote ‘Johnny-ness’.” 

Your fight began to wither away and the way he smiled at you made it very clear that he knew he was winning. “You are the most gorgeous, kind, incredible, sexy woman I’ve ever met and I know I’ve been a bit of a, how do I say this delicately?”

“Whore.” You finished for him.

“Yes, that. Thank you,” he scoffed, “but you make me want something so much more than just sex. I want you. I want the peaceful mornings where you make coffee while I cook breakfast. The nights in, just being around you, listening to your voice, holding you the way I’ve wanted to since the moment you showed up in that stupid hospital after the accident. And you may think that things have gone so wrong today but I got to see you and that makes this date just perfect.”

“You make everything perfect.” He concluded as he cupped your cheek, keeping your gaze firmly fixed on him.

“You’re sure?” Your voice wobbled. 

“Never more sure of anything in my life.” The last word had barely left his mouth before you surged forwards and smashed your lips against his. His blue eyes widened and then he melted into the kiss matching your ferocity. You moaned as he tilted your head, encouraging you to part your lips.

“Fuck baby.” Your nails dug into his sides, desperately trying to both fill your lungs and keep kissing him, which Johnny was happy to oblige. “I wanted to treat you right, dinner and then maybe a kiss on the cheek but you’re making it fucking hard to keep my word.”

“Don’t care.” You muttered between pecks. “Wanna see why all those girls kept crawling back for more.” His hips rolled into you, letting you feel just how badly he wanted to show you.

“Whatever you want, baby. I wanna make this perfect for you.” 

“You already have.” You said as you pulled him into your bedroom.

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ok yall be honest, of these two couples, who’s kinkier? And I don’t mean who has the more fulfilling sex, that’s to each their own and vanilla is just fine for many. it’s what they need and thrive off. but I got my headcanons and I wanna hear yours

omg girl give us the headcanons

Ok darling(s) I’m all too eager tbh. 😆 and these are just preliminary and maybe not fully canon thots so far.

First off, this ASK from earlier contains more headcanons and screams.

Jack x Tilly Headcanons (mostly 🌶️💋🔞)

warnings: these are smutty headcanons, mention of kids and Catholicism but in a fluffy context, brief breast milk mention, brief and vague SA trauma reference

•Jack is an atrocious snuggler. Actually that is wrong, he is a great one if snuggling is the Olympic sport of the moment, no one snuggles harder than this man. An odd thing to many since he is so reserved and somewhat deterring of affection in the day to day and he’s all elbows and knees. But when it comes to his woman at night or on the couch he is on her like a duck on a junebug, and that’s the order of things! Him on her. He finds a way to wrap around her somehow no matter what and to lay his head on some soft part of her. Tilly loves it as somehow she feels both comforting and kept all at once, it satisfies her energy and impulses both ways. And if he’s not doing it she immediately knows something is quite terrible up in his headspace. This has nothing to do with sex, sometimes it leads to it but often it doesn’t. Which others might find odd for how intense it is. Shhh let them be

•Jack is also a very intense kisser. He can be giggly about it, especially if drunk, but most times he’s very intense to the point of not being everyone’s cup of tea. But tbh, there’s more gentle dominance in his kisses than most men calling themselves daddy out there. His kisses age him -in a very nice way. Tilly melts into a puddle of goo -don’t believe me? Check between her legs. Actually don’t that’s Jack’s job and he’s a jealous fucker

•he’s a jaw cradler, and not from the side, he often cups it from under and it’s unintentionally giving some throat action. Or maybe it is intentional. But he’s not out there choking her (I don’t think unless she asks???) but he is a very intense jaw cradler with those fucking beautiful hands. Sometimes it feels like he’s *taking* his kisses and Tilly goes weak kneed for it. I take no criticism

•he’s a very subtle, gentle braggart about his wife. Not about his Casanova skills, no, but about his wifey. But he’ll say it and most times, it’s so wry or subtle that only five to ten minutes later will his buddies jerk and realize he just dropped some filthy sex anecdotes right there

•these two have sex a lot. they will sneak that shit in. and with all their kids it has to be snuck and often has to be quick and the eye fucking foreplay of these two throughout their day is actually a very intricate and intentional thing so when they snap and disappear for a minute or five, when the kids are riding bikes in the neighborhood and Jack has her agaisnt the fridge or when they’ve finally got themselves to an adult Christmas party where the music is loud and the powder room empty —don’t make the mistake of thinking it was all impulse. It was, but it was brewed for hours if not days before until they snapped and collided.

•with something so rushed and spur of the minute, Johnny often worries his baby is getting her fix. And the idea of her not is awful, the idea of him getting his but she not getting hers is outright anathema to him. Good thing those fingers (and Bucky’s tips, yes thanks Egan you can shush now) and that tongue are wickedly smart. If Benny is a wonder of slow savoring, John Brady is a buzzing brand held right to her until Tilly is coming a mere fifteen seconds after thinking it wasn't to be.

•Tilly is usually the one begging “harder” but Sweet Jesus he delivers. Doesn’t mean it’s not loving but holy shit there are hip bruises and the sound of him smacking off her lush backside is enough to send him dizzy and get them reported for having a pile driver in the living room

•Jack is a munch, as my fellow anons have agreed, and this man likes it best when she is sat on his face. It’s the thighs around his face, the view upwards and the suffocation and the way she’s able to grind down so well when it feels good and tug his hair and he just goes to another world that way. Only time this man de-stresses tbh

•But he’ll go down anywhere. And he’d rather do it before these rushed quickies spoken of above but Tilly loves the pummeling friction first and then a quick few smooches and swipes of his tongue down there and she’s gushing. So he complies, if that’s how his missus wants it, she gets it.

•which is rather a maxim for Brady life, not just sex. But this woman is the one bringing up some wild shit to this man and he rolls with it, happily. Sometimes she’s just already positioned or dressed for it when he comes home or comes back into the room after putting the kids down and he’s gives an absolutely wry and sardonic greeting followed by the noise of his belt jangling loose followed by the most heated kiss you ever did see.

•“You look nice.” he’ll compliment her respectfully when she’s in the most debauched accouterments.

•Can’t wait, gotta have you, be good for me” he’ll say when she’s prim as any other Catholic housewife in her dress still crinkled from kneeling in mass

•the Catholic dichotomy drives Tilly nuts (note, author may be projecting)

•i think this man has a raging praise kink, and Tilly is downright ready to feed it. Has little choice, she says what she thinks and is very vocal in all aspects of life and he makes her go to heaven and back and she is gonna narrate the trip. That’s how she is and he’s a moaning mess for it

•But it’s in a primarily “you make me feel so good, I love you so much, how are you so good at that?” sorta way. She keeps one other way tucked away for very special occasions when the mood is right

•it’s got to be just right tho. not that a bomb will go off if it’s not, he’ll just sorta look at her like “thanks babe, you’re silly tho” if she times it wrong. If she times it right?! Times it right and all she’s gotta do is call him boy and he shakes and hardens into an absolute mess. He’s gotta be pretty far goners when she plays that card, but if he is, he loses it. “That’s it sweet boy, you’re my pretty boy, so good to me darling boy, hold on for me a little longer sweet boy, you’re my boy aren’t you?”

•with Tilly being so lush and warm and free and easy, I am gonna be bold and admit this couple 100% lets that man suck her titties -even when she’s got milk in them. It’s no age regression thing at all, it’s not “mommy kink” either, in fact, it's simply the man who made her a mother helping her out when she’s swollen and hurting, or else, savoring the changes he made to her body. As a man. And it’s just something soft and sweet to indulge in. And Tilly does have the most incredible rack ever so there’s that as well.

•is there a small breeding kink or is he just Catholic and does she enjoy the faces he makes and the hot splash of him when he cums inside? who knows tbh

•Jack has to be facing her. Or at least for years. He’s gotta be facing her or else a mirror and they learned this the hard way, otherwise his trauma will literally teleport him elsewhere and shut him down and it’s the most horrible thing has ever witnessed

•also for very a long time he wasn’t just unable to bear things being done to him like a blow job, but truly it fucking sent him as well. A remedy for this was found to be his enjoyment of oral for her or else full in sex or, with care and time, mutually giving. He just can’t lay there and enjoy being serviced, it’s not him being too stressed or picky, he legitimately is traumatized by it. So, god bless 69 even if Still thinks she’s trash at it because he’s so good at what he does on his end that after the first two minutes she is usually so blissed out she just holds his cock and moans on it instead actually doing much of anything close to blowing him

•there are some other stalag trauma related triggers and helps and tastes that we’ll revisit later once more of that it out in public consumption but there’s that for now I think. This was SUCH fun

[sehtoast]

Sunset in July (Depowered!Homelander x OC) All of You is Left to Love Chapter 5

18+

2.3k

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5

Warnings: Vaginal sex, brief mentions of torture, brief mentions of genital injuries, soft smut, angst if you squint

Ben and Homelander share a date night two months after depowerment.

OC: Benjamin Colyer (The Boys-verse Spider-Man)

So much had happened in the past two months.

Benny got caught up in a deal with Vought– one that would cease their pursuit to ‘reclaim’ their lost ‘property.’ In return for filling his seat in The Seven, the former Homelander would be left to live his life.

What little was left of it, anyway.

Benjamin spent hours upon hours, every night, going over that massive contract with highlighters and red pens. He made sure there wasn’t a speck of bullshit to be found– no tiny loopholes that would come back to haunt them, no fine print that dictated John’s mere existence was theirs to own and take back whenever they pleased.

All he could do was watch as his partner dueled the world’s most powerful corporate entity while his safety hung in the balance.

In the end, Ben won.

Not only that, but Benny secured a bargain for Vought to begin processing the necessary paperwork to get John proper documentation to prove that he existed. Forty fucking three years old, and he never had a birth certificate– no social security number, no ID… Nothing. Vought always covered for him, so why would he need any of those? Anything he needed to own was handled by them. His money, his properties– all of it was processed by Vought.

Which, of course, meant everything was theirs.

During this time, Ben balanced being Spider-Man, taking care of him, and warring with Vought. The web-head seemed like a dead man walking with how exhausted he was, but he never quit. He never threw his hands up and decided it’d be easier to have John be self-sufficient with his volatile emotions, never decided to just keep him locked away in their apartment for his safety, never abandoned those in need around the city to focus on the other issues at hand…

John’s injuries healed– bruises faded away, cuts vanished, scars formed…

If not for the shaved head and pink ridges traveling his right cheekbone and chest, John would be able to convince even himself that nothing had happened.

So, two months after his rescue, Ben took him for their first real date.

A celebration, he’d called it. The end of one thing, the start of another.

The former supe was petrified at the idea of going out in public, and Ben could tell. So, like any good wall-climbing boyfriend would, he set up a rooftop picnic and carried his Johnny to the top. Nothing extravagant, just drinks and food– a setting sun to bask in as they shared their moment, pillows and blankets to rest upon.

But, it was perfect.

It was nice to snuggle into his little spider without fear of pressure on his bruises, or the cut on his chest wrinkling and stinging. Curling a leg to entwine with Ben’s, losing himself in the rise and fall of his love’s chest, the gentle thrum of his heart…

The view of the early July sunset was beautiful, washing over the pair with a sense of serenity in waves of orange and pink.

“This is… nice.” Homelander murmured softly, his voice carrying a tinge of vulnerability. It had been a long time since he’d been content enough to bask in a moment so beautiful. The gravity of this… change always loomed over him, weighing down on his mind and body like a million pounds, but here, now… everything felt okay.

Like they were both able to simply take a breath.

“I’m glad,” Ben hummed, giving John’s hand a light squeeze. “We deserve something nice.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you…” John confessed in a whisper. “You’ve saved me in more ways than one, at this rate…”

Benny smiled and nuzzled into John’s neck, pressing a kiss to his flushed skin. “You’ve saved me too, y’know?”

As the last rays of sunshine drowned under the horizon, John tightened his grip around Ben’s hand, as though the light slinking away would cause the moment to fade into nothing more than a simple dream.

“I just… I dunno how to ever repay you for– well, for everything.” Homelander took a deep breath. With Benny by his side, perhaps he could learn to navigate this new world where he no longer knew himself. Maybe– just, maybe– he could figure this out.

Maybe it’d all turn out alright, just as his lover always promises.

He leaned in closer to Ben and brushed their lips together in a slow, tender kiss, savoring the taste of love and tranquility on his little spider's mouth.

"You'll never have to," Benny murmured against his lips, his hand coming up to stroke through John's brown locks. His hair had grown out to the length it once was, though it was shaggy and unkempt now. There was a certain charm to it, though.

He knew the reason his love refused haircuts was the fear of having his head buzzed against his will again. Ben vowed never to pressure him, especially knowing all that his Johnny had gone through.

His mind flashed back briefly to the scene he found in the cell…

"They'll never take you…" Ben affirmed as he looked into Homelander's worried blue eyes that always seemed to seek reassurance now. "You’ll always be safe."

He'd fight like hell to make sure John had a shot at this new life. He'd do anything to give his lover this chance- to help him work through the strife and trauma and come out of the rubble of change far stronger than he’d ever been before.

A lump formed in John’s throat, thick with emotions he dare not breathe to life.

Ben’s thumb brushed against the pink scar running along his cheekbone, and suddenly he felt the haunting memories of captivity pervading into the forefront of his mind. Yet, with Benny at his side, he felt safe, grounded, collected.

He would not unravel at the seams.

Not now.

”We’ll be safe…” He whispered hoarsely, his voice wavering just slightly. He nuzzled into Ben’s touch, warmed to the core from the comfort of his lover.

In this new, raw vulnerability that they shared, there was strength- an unbreakable bond forged through an unspeakably dark time. At least, that’s what Ben had told him. John leaned in once more, pressing another kiss against Benny’s lips, pouring every ounce of love and appreciation he could muster into the gesture.

A thank you for his rescue, for his mended wounds, for handling his breakdowns, for the borrowed clothes, for the sleepless nights where he needed so desperately to be held…

For fighting Vought, tooth and nail, to secure his freedom.

For simply being beside him…

By the time they decided to return to their apartment, Ben found himself riled up from all of John’s little touches and warm kisses.

It felt like a lifetime since he and John were intimate on account of the fact Homelander suffered injuries to his genitals while imprisoned. By now, however, they were most certainly healed.

The thought bounced around his head until he couldn’t contain the urge.

“Close your eyes, babe…” Benjamin whispered from behind John, his arms wrapped around his lover’s waist, lips at his neck. “I wanna…” He trailed off as his hand dipped down to run over the curve of John’s cock in his shorts. “Only if you’re okay…”

John’s breath hitched as shocks of excitement tingled through his body. Anticipation and longing spanning months, finally within reach. He closed his eyes obediently, shivering at the thought of what was to come as he leaned his head to the side to give his little spider better access.

“I’m ready…” he replied, his voice gravelly. “God, I’m so fucking ready!”

His heart pounded in his chest– such a uniquely human feeling– as he felt the warmth and strength of Ben pressed against him from behind. The raging hunger for intimacy coursed through him like a fire– burning away everything else.

“Fuck…” Homelander rasped, surrendering himself completely to the touch of the man he loved.

Ben inhaled deeply, nuzzling his nose behind the shell of John's ear. “God…” he groaned. “I fucking missed touching you like this…”

Benny turned John around, leaning in immediately to engulf him in a needy kiss, one eye open to navigate his grip until he’d lifted the former supe from the ground, his love’s legs wrapping around his waist.

“I love you.” Ben gazed up at him, grinning against the hands that cupped his face. “My Johnny…” Homelander's legs tightened around Benny's waist as their lips locked in a passionate embrace.

Their kisses began to deepen, growing more urgent with every passing moment. Hungry moans escaped from Homelander's lips as Benny's hands roamed over his body, caressing every inch of him, leaving goosebumps in the wake of every tender touch.

Benny lowered John onto the bed– never breaking away as he straddled him. Their bodies slotted together as clothes were discarded piece by piece, hands exploring with a familiarity only two bound souls could possess.

Homelander shuddered as he felt the warmth and wetness of Benny’s core grind against him, pleasure surging through him like pure electricity as they moved together in a rhythm all their own.

Tender, yet fervent, each touch carried an unspoken adoration for each other. John surrendered himself, suddenly less inclined to lead in this dance of theirs, content instead to be cradled and loved by his little spider. A bout of insecurity rose in him at the fact he couldn’t perform the same way he could once.

When he had his powers.

But any attempts to apologize for fatigue and resting breaths were shushed away, and lips pressed to him instead to silence him.

“I don’t care about that,” Ben gasped into his mouth as he slid his slick core over the length of John’s shaft. “None of that matters… Just you. Just you…”

He engulfed John in another passionate kiss, grinding down on him as their tongues mingled and moans reverberated against each other.

“I want you to take me however you want me…” Ben cooed. “Soft, hard… anything you want. Just take…”

John's breath caught as he listened to Benny's words, his cock twitching with need. He nodded fervently, a soft hunger burning in his eyes.

“Like this… I want you like this."

Benny pressed a kiss to his forehead and a hand to his chest, easing him back slowly. Their eyes locked.

John reached down to guide himself into position, keening weakly as his lover sank down on him with no hesitation.

“Hnngh,” he whimpered, the familiar heat gripping his senses. His hands grasped Ben’s thighs, holding tight as he tried to stave off his release.

So much time untouched left them both so sensitive.

“F-Fuck!” Ben hissed as his core worked to adjust to his lover’s girth. “So t-thick…”

Benny rose up, sighing softly before sinking back down, working into a pleasurable rhythm until he was rutting and riding his lover just the way they both liked.

Homelander’s hips started to work into a pace of their own, thrusting up to meet his little spider, their combined efforts working to build their respective peaks higher and higher.

“T-That’s it–” Ben groaned, moving John’s hands to position them at his hips. “Take me…” He threw his head back in a weak moan when Homelander’s biting grip finally registered.

Claps of skin, desperate breaths– praise and love all filled the room as they moved together in a desperate symphony of desire and passion.

“C-Close!” John called out, feeling the coil of heat building tighter and tighter in his core, his balls tensing up in preparation to mark his love from the inside out. “I’m– I’m not–”

Ben came down hard, grinding in circular motions against Homelander’s cock. “I want you to f-feel so– fuck– so good!” He leaned forward, taking John into a searing kiss, swallowing his whines. “C-Cum when you’re ready, baby. Don’t fight it…”

With that, he resumed bouncing on John’s cock, the rolls of his hips growing more languid as he coaxed his lover closer to edge of completion.

“Fuck! I–I’m sorry! I’m– Hah!” John groaned loudly, his hips rising to fuck hard into Ben through the waves of his orgasm, painting his lover’s walls with his cum. He felt it all the way into his limbs as the tingles of release coursed through him. Words spilled from his lips– incoherent at best as he moaned and babbled through his orgasm, his nails biting into Ben’s hips as though letting go would leave him castaway in a sea of bliss.

He trembled through the aftershocks, jolts like electricity dashing through him as Ben rode him to completion, his little spider's voice caught somewhere between a sigh and a groan as his cunt spasmed and pulsed with release.

“Ah– oh, fuck! Fuuuuck….” Ben panted, content to follow the arms that pulled him down. Lips met his, guiding him into a kiss he was too far from his own mind to reciprocate quite yet.

A sense of contentment washed over John– a rarity, these days. He’d dearly missed how quiet the world became after moments like this. His protector simmered down, the bad thoughts were kept at bay, and the worries he held for the future silenced.

After all, his future rested in his arms.

Moments like these… Ones where he could revel in the vulnerability of their afterglow, hold his lover, be held in return…

It meant the world.

“Love you…” Ben murmured weakly against his flesh, a kiss pressed to him to seal the promise.

The pair laid there for a while, basking in the afterglow, content to just exist side by side. Ben's hand crept up to John's hair, scratching lightly against his scalp to further comfort and relax his Johnny.

Just as they were both on the cusp of sleep, several loud booms echoed outside. From their position on the bed, they could make out the sight of reds, whites, and blues shimmering outside of the window.

"Huh,” Benny hummed cheerfully. “Would you look at that?”

John watched quietly as another blast of fireworks painted the sky, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Happy birthday, Johnny!"

edit: desktop view seems to be missing a whole chunk of this story, whereas mobile displays it fine. editor shows it's still there, so i'm sort of hands-tied as far as fixing it goes.

[pascalscenarios]

CLUMSY (Frankie Morales x Reader)

CLUMSY

Inspired by the song “Clumsy” by Fergie 

Scenario Series

Frankie Morales X Reader

Summary: You’re a waitress at a bar. Frankie is clumsy and completely flustered around you. 

Words: 1600

Warning: Mentions of alcohol, accidental touching

Author's Note: No because clumsy Frankie sounds cute af - K

It was packed at Aces, the bar you waitressed at. Tonight was game night, meaning a big sporting event was airing live on TV. Everyone flooded to the bar to watch the game on the multiple flatscreens, drink a shit ton of beer and eat greasy, yet delicious food.

“Alright Mac, here’s your usual, a pint of beer and nachos” You take the beer off the tray first, then set the nachos down on to the small circular table.

“Thanks darlin” He smiles at you. He picks up the beer, taking a swig and turning his attention back to the game.

“Of course, let me know if you need anything else!” you say over the loud noise.

“Thanks!”

With that you hold your empty tray in your hand, weaving past tables and bodies and make your way over to the bar to pick up orders.

You set your tray on the bartop, picking up plates of foods and beers, placing them on your tray.

Your coworker Johnny rushes up to you “Could you cover the table in the back?” He says as he quickly piles up his tray with orders.“Sorry! I’m really falling behind with all these orders and they requested for you”

Johnny was a new hire, only been on the job for a couple weeks. This was his first night working with the bar packed like this. It could get overwhelming.

You look over to the back, four guys sitting at the table. It was The Miller brothers, Will and Benny, and their friends Santiago, and Frankie. The four guys were regulars at the bar, coming in every so often.

Frankie Morales was looking at you, but quickly averted his gaze away when you noticed him staring at you. A smile crept onto your face. Frankie was cute, and boy did you have a fat crush on him.

Frankie is always nervous around you. You’ve heard him talk to the guys or anyone else like it was nothing, but when it was you, he’d shut up real quick. He was selective with his words, sometimes even stuttering when he spoke.

Something always went wrong when he tried to talk to you. Countless of times he has tripped, slipped, stumbled and fumbled in your presence. He is an absolute clutz around you.

“Yeah, of course! Don’t worry, I got you!”

“Thank you! I owe one!” Johnny quickly takes his tray and rushes off into the room.

You quickly maneuver around the floor, dropping off beers and food to various tables before heading over to the table towards the back corner of the bar.

“Hey, boys!” you greeted him.

Benny shouts your name “...Our favorite Waitress!”

“How are you doing?” Will asks, leaning on his arms that were on the table.

“Good! It’s a busy night! I haven’t seen you guys around for a while” you hold the tray in your arms.

“We’ve been busy at work. Thought we should have a few beers, eat and watch the game” Santi says motioning to the TV.

“And besides, Frankie here wanted to see you” Benny tossing his arm around him. Frankies eyes widen.

You cock your eyebrow up. “Is that so?” The guys begin to snicker or try to hold in their laughs.

“What?- No, that’s not why we came here- I mean not that I don’t wanna see you- it’s good to see you-I” he begins to babble

You begin to giggle “It’s good to see you, Frankie”

Frankie wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He was turning red, embarrassed, and angry staring at Benny.

“I already know what you guys want, I’ll be back in a minute” you say before walking away.

Once you were a far distance away, the guys busted out laughing.

“God, Frankie what was that?!” Benny was hunched over from laughing.

Frankie rolled his eyes annoyed at his friends.

“The person you become when they’re around...it's unreal” Santi chimes in.

“You should ask them out already Frankie. You’ve been crushing on them for a while” Will encourages him.

“They probably think I’m fucking idiot” Frankie mumbles.

“You’re not an idiot. You’re just nervous, that's all. It’s normal to be nervous around someone you like. You’re too much in your head. Don’t try to control the situation, just let things happen. Let it play out” Will expresses his advice to Frankie.

“Alright, 20 bucks something is gonna go wrong tonight...I say pretty soon” Benny says.

“Frankie’s gonna be okay” Will glares at Benny and Santi. They weren’t even drunk yet, yet here they are being assholes.

“Something always happens though, but I think later on in the night” Santi gives them a knowing look, “You got yourself a bet” He leans across the table shaking hands with Benny. Will shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“I knew I shouldn’t have come out tonight” Frankie gets up from his chair. “I’m going home”

“Frankie, Come on man” Benny drags out.

“No, I’m out of here” Frankie whips around, accidentally bumps into the tray in your hands. One of the pints tip over on the tray spilling all over your body.

“Oh my god” You gasp, clutching the tray close to you, making sure the rest of the pints don’t spill on the ground. You quickly set the beer soaked tray on to their table. You look down at yourself. Your v neck shirt was drenched in beer, and dripping onto your jeans.

“I’m so sorry- here let me help you” Frankie picks up the napkins from the dispenser on the table.

Your eyes widen as he begins to dap your exposed chest with the napkin. You know he means well. You don’t even think he realised what he was doing. You were just caught off guard.

“Frankie!” Will shouts.

“What-OH! Shit” it clicks in his head where his hands were, and clearly they shouldn’t be here.

He quickly moves his hands away from your body, and stepping away from you “I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean- I swear I wasn’t trying to- I” He was a stuttering mess.

“It’s fine” You chuckled awkwardly “Uh, I’m gonna go change and bring you new beers...I’ll have someone clean up the spill, excuse me” You pick up the tray and head back over to the bar.

“Fuck” Frankie sat back down covering his face in embarrassment. He felt terrible for not only spilling the drinks on you, but for touching you.

“Pay up, Garcia” Benny holds out his hand for twenty dollars. “Ouch!” Bennt helps out as his older brother slaps him upside the head.

…

The rest of the night Frankie remained silent, limiting himself to a few words, hardly making any eye contact when you came around by the table.

The bars closing time inched closer. People in the bar started to leave sporadically.

The night was coming down to an end. The guys paid for their food and left a good tip for you like they always do. The guys got up, waved goodbye to you, and started to make their way towards the exit.

Frankie didn’t want to leave without apologizing to you. I would have messed with his conscience, keeping him awake until the wee hours of the morning.

“I’ll catch up with you guys outside, I’ll be a minute.”

You were behind the bar, wiping up glasses that you just cleaned.

Frankie's heart was pounding. There was no need to be nervous. You were always so sweet to him. He took a deep breath in, signing quickly. “Hey” Frankie said as he approached the counter top.

“Hi” you smile softly at him as you set the cup down on the counter, picking up another to wipe.

“Are you staying a bit longer?”

“The guys are waiting for me outside..I just wanted to talk to you. I just wanted to apologize earlier-”

“Frankie” you sighed, “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine”

“No, It wasn’t. I knocked a whole pint of beer on you, then proceeded to touch your chest, without consent-”

“Frankie, it was an accident. You were just trying to help me” you giggle. “Besides, I think it's cute when I make you all flustered”

Frankie started to blush. He scratches the back of his neck “You noticed that huh?”

“There’s no need to be nervous around me. I’m no one special”

“Well I mean you kinda are. I’ve had a crush on you for a while” Frankie cringed at what he said. “Wow I sound like such a fucking creep- I’m sorry. I’m really not good at these things and I-”

You quickly set down the glass and rag down on the counter. You leaned your body forward, grabbing a hold of Frankies shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. It was simple and sweet.

You pull away, biting your lip “Frankie you need to relax...I’ve had a crush on you for a while too.

“Really? After I made myself look like a clown in front of you countless of times?”

“Yes really. How about we go out on a date?” You asked him.

“O-okay. Yeah I’d like that…” 

“I’m off Friday night. Is that day okay?” 

“Yeah”

“Alright, here’s my number” You grab a pen from your apron, and write it down on a napkin. You hand him the napkin.

“Night Frankie”

“Goodnight”

Frankie heads out of the bar and finds the guys waiting around.

“What took you so long?” Benny complained 

“Looks like a got a date friday night” he smiles holding up the napkin with your number

“ATTA BOY FRANKIE!!” 

MT: @icanbeyourjedi @sara-alonso @greeneyedblondie44 @hb8301 1 @alberta-sunrise @spacenerdpascal @ryleyrooroo @reader-s-cantina @nikkixostan @mindidjarin

[holylulusworld]

Dear John – The road to redemption

Summary: John is out for blood and tries to be a father for your twins at the same time.

Pairing: Mobster!John x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, age gap (the reader is around 30, John 50), mentions of break-up/unrequited feelings, mentions of an abusive relationship/domestic violence (not John), daddy!John, comforting, fluff, Dean being a good big brother, just like Sam

Characters: Benny Lafitte, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester

<< Part 1

Part 2/3

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

“Look, John jr., I saved you a slice of my favorite pie,” Dean grins when his five-year-old brother’s eyes grow wide. My baby boy nods eagerly, already grasping for the fork to dig it into the pie Dean places in front of him.

I smile, knowing all too well my eldest is a proud big brother who would go to hell and back for his new siblings just like he did for Sam.

“Johnny loves pie,” my baby girl quips, grinning up at Dean. She smiles, knowing the tall guy next to her is her big brother. “Now I got three big brothers – awesome,” in not two days Sofia grew close to Dean and Sam.

“Daddy, do you like pie too?” John jr. asks, earning a chuckle from Dean who looks at me, a cocky grin on his lips. “Do you?”

“I like some once in a while but, unlike Dean, I am not addicted,” nodding thoughtfully my little boy looks at the pie. A grin appears on his face and he looks me straight in the eyes.

“More pie for me and my big brother, daddy,” I laugh, even throw my head back as I haven’t had kids at my house for ages. The kids make me feel like a young man again and I forget for a moment, a douche is after my girl. “What do you like daddy?”

“That’s not for your ears, John jr.,” Y/N enters the kitchen, kisses the top of my son’s head softly as she covers his ears with her hands, Sam immediately covers my daughter’s ears, knowing Y/N will use a bad word.

“He’s more into eating something else,” I can’t hold back the groan leaving my lips at Y/N’s words. She looks at me, something dangerous in her eyes but, I can see the tension left her body. “Not that I would have complained, though.”

Shit, I feel my face heat up. I bet my sons can see I am putty in Y/N’s hands if she wants me. Before I find my voice to give her a snarky comment she turns her attention toward Sofia and John jr. and my heart swells when she switched into ‘mommy modus’. 

“And how good you tasted,” I finally find my voice, and Y/N giggles at my words, missing the way I roam her body when she takes the cup of coffee Dean offers to her. “I mean, your pie.” I backpaddle as my sons look at me, pointing toward the kids. 

“Dad said you want to sell your parents’ house,” Sam tries to change the topic. “Maybe my girlfriend can help you. She sold her parent's house three years ago.”

“Yeah, we all know your girl is awesome, Sammy,” Dean groans, causing me to roll my eyes. My boys are grown men, but they like to tease each other like kids. “Ruby is smart. Ruby is sexy – blah blah.”

“Son, not now. Ruby is your brother’s girlfriend, stop nagging about the girl. She is part of our family soon enough,” I need to stop my eldest, knowing he doesn’t like Ruby too much.

“Did you forget she got him addicted?” Dean bites back. His hands balled into fists he curses under his breath. “We need months to get him down from that shit and suddenly she’s a saint to everyone but me. I do not trust her one bit.”

“Dean, not that old song again. Ruby and I got addicted and-“ Sam stops in his tracks when Y/N raises one hand.

“Not in front of the kids, Sam. If you and your brother want to fight or talk about adult themes, do it when my children are not around. They went through enough due to my mistake,” she sniffs now. “I need-“ I run after her when Y/N runs out of the room, crying bitterly. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Y/N, you belong to me,” I cup the back of Y/N’s neck to force her to look up at me. I hate to let the dangerous mobster out, but she needs to understand – there is no way I’ll ever let her go. Not now, not ever. “You’re mine,” my lips claim hers, a bit too rough, and honestly a bit clumsily but I can’t help it. I need to feel her lips against mine.

“John,” she pants against my chapped lips, whimpers as I kiss her again to calm her a little. Fuck me, she still tastes like back then. Like strawberries, vanilla, and sin. “John.”

“Sorry, doll,” I breathe against her soft pillows. “I wanted to show more patience but having you here makes me go crazy. I know you can’t forgive me that easily, but you cannot deny you feel it too. The pull, the need to touch me,” I kiss her again, this time slow and gentle. “How about you get ready for the day and we talk later?”

“John, this isn’t a happy reunion or a second chance for love. This is me and my kids running from a violent man who tries to get me back whilst my former lover keeps me hostage at his house to protect me,” Y/N spats. I didn’t believe she will forgive me anytime soon but her words still sting. “I just want to be left alone.”

“I understand you do not trust me but,” I cup her face, not letting her look away, “you are my girl, always were mine. I don’t care about anything else but you and my kids. Trust me, I’ll make that bastard pay for hurting you.”

“I don’t want you to hurt him, John. I just,” she sniffles, tries to hide her tears from me. I always admire Y/N for being strong and stubborn, “Please, I never want to see him again. Tell him to leave me alone.”

“That I can do, doll. I promise he will never hurt you or my children again. But,” I bring Y/N into my arms, not caring she struggles against my strength, “I can’t let you go after. You’re my girl, the one I love. Even if you never let me in again, I want you in my life, Y/N.”

“John, I-“ her voice cracks, and I hold her a bit tighter, let her fist my button-up and take the slap she gives me with all her strength like a man. “You can’t just tell me what to do,” and there she is, the angry stubborn girl I loved to tame.

“You’re still my bad girl,” I muse, pecking Y/N’s forehead. “Please stay here until I handled the situation with James. He seems to be a dangerous man.”

“You are one to talk,” Y/N grins up at me, the fire I loved so much back in her eyes. “John Winchester, head of the Winchester’s empire talks about James being a dangerous man. Your dark aura was one of the things making me fall for you.”

“Oh, you naughty girl,” teasing Y/N is like a hobby to me. “I knew you loved being my hostage a bit too much, dirty girl,” I whisper the last part into her ear. “I will not let anything happen to you or the kids, promised. Benny will stay here with you.”

“John,” Y/N looks up at me with teary eyes. “I don’t think you should kill him. Maybe it’s enough to tell him to stay away from me? You can be scary as shit.” I chuckle at my girl’s words. I know that most people are afraid of me, but oddly, Y/N never was one of them. 

“I promise to not kill him if it’s not necessary, Y/N,” I lie, fuck I lie shamelessly but how could I tell Y/N that the moment James laid hands on her he was a dead man. He just doesn’t know he’s dead yet. “How about you and the kids spend the day in the garden? Or do you want Benny to drive you somewhere?”

“I think I’ll just stay here,” I can see the fear return. Y/N’s eyes betray the brave face she puts on for me. “Do you have Netflix? We could watch cartoons or something.”

“I show you the TV later. If you get hungry, tell the cook what you want to eat, doll,” I smirk when Y/N tells me she’s a good cook. “Baby, you are anything but a good cook. You burned eggs, Y/N.”

“I got better,” she insists, and I kiss her again. Hungrily I invade her mouth, make her moan against me. “Hey, I didn’t mean that kind of cooking.” she scolds me playfully and I feel hope bloom in my chest. “I can make toast, pancakes, and baked a pie for the kids' birthday. Don’t underestimate my talent in the kitchen.”

“Oh-I remember your talent in the kitchen, especially the kitchen counter,” there it is, the nervous giggle. “You were such a good girl.”

“JOHN WINCHESTER,” Y/N punches my chest with her tiny fists. “Don’t say things like that with your kids around. They don’t need to know about all the dirty things you did to me.”

“…and with you,” I smirk when Y/N sighs at my words. “Promise me you’ll be still here when I come back.”

“I will stay as long as he’s out there, John. I don’t want him to get close to my children or me ever again. I am stubborn, not dumb,” I look at Y/N one last time before I decide it’s time to hunt that bastard down.

“I’ll be back in a blink, doll. Benny will help you today,” I peck Y/N’s check, let my lips linger a bit longer than needed. “No one will ever hurt you again.”

“Dean, Sam, Jimmy, I want you to come with me. Benny, you’ll stay at the mansion and watch over my girl and the kids. No one will enter the house without your permission. James Milster is out there, and we need to get hold of him,” close, so fucking close to losing control I look at my eldest. Dean, the one always following my orders places one hand onto my shoulder, nodding silently.

“We will get him, Sir,” Dean looks at his brother, unsure if Sam will follow my plan or not. “Right, Sam.”

“Y/N and her children will be safe after today,” Sam gives me a curt nod. He’s the smartest and most caring man I ever had the honor to meet.

I’m not saying Dean is not a good or smart man too. My eldest is a strong-headed, strong and caring man, but Sam, Sammy is different. I don’t know how he does it but around him, people feel comfortable, even though, he’s a giant.

“I need to make sure Y/N and my children are safe. John jr. and Sofia Rose are your siblings and it’s your duty, just like mine, to protect them at all cost. That man lived long enough after he hurt my girl. He’s out of luck now,” I pat my gun, giving my men a curt nod before we leave the mansion.

“Mommy, when will daddy be back?” Sofia Rose watches her brother pace around the living room. He couldn’t concentrate on the cartoons he wanted to watch, too busy to wait for John to come back. “Will he hurt James?”

“John,” I sigh, not knowing how to explain to my five-year-old son that his father will probably kill my ex-fiancé. “Your dad wants to talk to James, okay. Do you remember what I said the day we left his house?”

“That we don’t have to see him again and that daddy will protect us,” Sofia Rose steps closer to her brother, grasps his hand as she can see the worry on his features.

“Mommy, can we wait for daddy to come back? I want to see him before we go to sleep,” my daughter asks, knowing her big brother is worried about his father. “Please.”

“Of course, sweet pea. We will wait for daddy to come back,” it’s already late but I will not let fear cloud my mind. John knows how to handle any situation so I will wait for him to return and not worry.

I am a terrible liar, am I not?

Look at that bastard. How dare he to call me a lousy father when I aim a fucking gun at his head.

“That’s how you want to play the game?” I smirk when I unlock my gun. “How about we play – Winchester roulette? One bullet, six chambers – your life for my girl.”

His eyes wide James starts to beg for his life and I, well I, enjoy the show. I will not kill him with that gun, but this doesn’t mean I can’t have fun before I end his life as painful as possible.

“What do you say, son? Shall I play a game with James?” Dean sits onto the chair opposite James, shrugging. He doesn’t need to say a word, I can see it in my eldest eyes; he wants to rip James apart for hurting Y/N and scaring his siblings.

“Do as you wish, Sir,” Sam is the one opening the bag I brought with me to reveal all the nice toys to torture someone who really pissed me off. “Shall we begin, dad?”

“Please, I-“ James chokes on his words, wets his pants as he begs for his life but unlike other men – I know no mercy…

>> Part 3

 Tags in reblog.

[supercasey]

Do you have any songs for the TF2 Mercs? Sort've like their theme or just songs when you listen you think of them?

Sorry this took a bit, I needed to find some good songs! I'm such a huge fan of music (I don't really want a career in making it or anything, I just really like it!) So I'm gonna give each character 5 songs each, but seeing as I'm not as in-tune with a few of them… this was a bit hard to put together, but I think I’m fairly happy with the results!

Engineer: Cabinet Man - Lemon Demon : That's Okay - The Hush Sound : Me and Bobby McGee - Janis Joplin : Rooster - Alice in Chains : Old Town Road - Lil Nas X. The first song is a bit out of place, but I like to think Engie is just a lil’ more in love with his work than most folk. Other than that song, I tried choosing a few softer songs as well as country ones, or just ones that reminded me of him. I hope you’ll like them!

Demoman: The Beer - Kimya Dawson : High Hopes - Panic! At The Disco : Gasoline - Halsey : Amsterdam - Imagine Dragons : Hey, Asshole - Watsky. I’m not as knowledgeable of Demo’s lore, but from what I’ve read, I really like him, and I think he could relate with a few more depressing songs, while still wanting to blast some happy tunes! A lot of contrast with these songs, but I think they fit Demo well!

Soldier: Popopo - Steampianist : Burn - Admiral Fallow : The Weight of Us - Sanders Bohlke : The House That Heaven Built - Japandroids : This is War - Thirty Seconds to Mars. A lot of war related songs, as well as just songs about wanting to be greater than you are, even when it’s hard. That’s the sort of vibe I get from Soldier- you know, other than being Feral- and I tried to incorporate those things into this mini playlist!

Medic: Touch-Tone Telephone - Lemon Demon : Control - Halsey : Lent - Autoheart : When You're Evil - Voltaire : Handlebars - Flobot. I like to call Medic’s mini playlist “I’m Feral and I Don’t Care How You Feel About it!” All in all, very dramatic and vicious playlist, but let’s be real, that pretty much sums up Medic as a whole.

Heavy: Kids - MGMT : Idioteque - Radiohead : Zombie - The Cranberries : Your Best American Girl - Mitski : Work Song - Hozier : The Call - Regina Spektor. I struggled a lot with Heavy’s playlist, as I have a bit of trouble trying to get who he is as a character, but at the end of the day, I think he cares deeply for his family and teammates, and would enjoy songs about working hard, trying to fit in, and tragic childhoods.

Pyro: Little Game - Benny : Billions of Eyes - Lady Lamb and the Beekeeper : Edge of Town - Middle Kids : Elevator Operator - Courtney Barnett. Very happy go lucky playlist for the most part, with a pinch of LGBT undertones from the first song. I dunno, I just want Pyro to be happy!

Sniper: Why Am I Like This? - Orla Gartland : Johnny Boy - Twenty One Pilots : Future Me Hates Me - The Beths : Lemon Boy - Cavetown : Fill in the Blank - Car Seat Headrest. Oof ouch, the bushman be depressed and honestly I feel that on an emotional level. Lots of sad songs, but with a hint of Sniper wanting to feel better and work hard!

Spy: Pigeon - Cavetown : Not the Ghost - The Crane Wives : Problems - Mother Mother : When I'm Gone - Eminem : Tarifa - Sharon Van Etten. Now we’re in the big leagues (aka why I made this 5 for each and not just 3); I get the feeling that Spy is rather self-destructive, at least when it comes to forming relationships, and I tried to convey that through my song choices, as well as songs about wanting to be there for someone *cough* his son *cough*.

Scout: Devil Town V3 - Cavetown : peacefall - Purity Ring : Hey, Ma - Bon Iver : Squealing Pigs - Admiral Fallow : Little Lion Man - Mumford & Sons. As usual when answering Scout questions, I project, but hey, I think this time it’s pretty valid! Most of the themes for Scout’s playlist are about growing up, and the unwillingness to, as well as dealing with frustration and homesickness.

BONUS Miss Pauling: Help - Pink Guy : Pristine - Snail Mail : Don't Let's Start - They Might Be Giants : Today Today - Jack Stauber : Girls Like Girls - Hayley Kiyoko. Gay rights (I think it’s canon that she’s a lesbian??? Man I gotta read the fucking comics). Bit of depression paired with women being badass af in this playlist!

BONUS The Administrator: Oh No! - Marina and the Diamonds : Matilda - alt-J : Big God - Florence and the Machine : Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin : Army of Me - Björk. I may as well have asked the Administrator to step on me with this playlist; lot’s of selfishness and a longing for power for her songs!

BONUS Scout's Mom: My Mom - Kimya Dawson : Fast Car - Tracy Chapman : Your Ex-Lover Is Dead - Stars : I Will Wait - Mumford & Sons : 1985 - Bowling For Soup. Gosh, I miss my mom... anyways, I think Scout’s mom is a good mama, and even though I also think she’s been through a lot, she still loves her kid and husband, even if they’re far from home at the moment!

I went a bit overboard, didn’t I? Oh well, this was very fun to do, so thank you so much for the ask!

[malfoysqueen54]

White Flag Part 2

Dean and her grew up together, trained together. Also, absolutely can’t be in the same room without a fight ensuing. When she has to come back and help out the boys and their friends. If she stays too long will all her secrets come out. She swore he would never know, circumstances and their friends and family, they might have other ideas.

Pairing- Dean x reader

Warnings: Angst!, oh and ANGST! Triggers for Alcohol and drug abuse. Anger issues. Dean angry and yelling. (That needs a warning). Eventually smut. Sexual situations, cussing, blood, gore, the usual Supernatural warning.

*Thank You @winchest09 and @emoryhemsworth for looking at this. Love you ladies*

She stood there, glaring at Sam. Never had she been so furious with him. “We always, ALWAYS, tried to save him and you,” she huffed, “you don’t just walk away!” Her voice raised as she finished her sentence, her breathing deepening.

Sam sighed. “We made a promise to move on if one of us died.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW HE IS DEAD!” She bellowed. 

“Y/n,” the young Winchester said gently, trying to soften the blow that Dean was probably gone.

“NO! Fuck you, Samuel!” she growled and spun away. If Sam wouldn’t look, she would. She had to try to find Dean. He may never care, but she did, and she had to try.

After months, she figured if he was alive, he could be in Purgatory, along with Cass too. Two whole rooms of her house were wallpapered with possibilities, littered with maps, lore, pictures, and interviews. The bottle of Johnny Walker was her only friend these days as she tried to figure out how to enter limbo, how to track Dean and Cass. She got maybe an hour or two of sleep every couple of days. Frustration mounted as she couldn’t figure it out. The manic labyrinth of booze, worry, and no sleep had left her unable to put the pieces together. Y/n refused to involve shithead Sam, though.

On the verge of a breakdown, she got a voicemail from Sam: Dean was alive, safe, and had returned. The relief let her slumber for two days before she flew off to see him, only to be confronted with an angrier than usual Dean Winchester. Y/n couldn’t blame him. He didn’t care to see her; no change there. He was mainly pissed at Sam, as was she.

Benny was the only good thing she received from that horrible year. She and Benny got close.

Finding out Dean had sent him back to Purgatory for Sam sent her into a rage again. She dug out all her research to figure out how to bring back her friend. She went to Purgatory alone and convinced him to come back with her. She needed a trusted friend, and the vampire and Y/n had bonded over a few common things.

Dean was stunned to see him and pissed that she went by herself, not telling anyone. When he said as much, she scoffed and rolled her eyes and quipped back, “Like you care, Winchester.”

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

She was groggy, descending down the stairs, rubbing her eyes as Benny gave her coffee.

“Are you ready to go?” he questioned. 

She shook her head. “No, I have to pick up Jack's gift. I will meet you there tomorrow.”

Benny sighed. “You better.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “I will. Now get going! I have to get moving to get his gift.” She shooed him off, moving back towards her room as Benny grabbed his coat, getting in the car without looking back. He would regret that later.

 As Y/n entered, she was surprised by a man in her room, a short man. She dropped her coffee, diving for her dresser drawer and grabbing her Smith & Wesson. Before she could grasp it, a force threw her back against the wall. Her eyes landed on the man who had barely moved again; he turned slowly, smiling sweetly. 

“Y/n, it’s been a while.” It was Chuck. This was not good.

Her jaw clenched, staring at the gnome of a man/God himself. After a labored breath, she spoke. “What do you want, you ass?”

“Well, see, that’s interesting. I want you,” he pointed at her before refolding his hands.

“What? Why?!” Her brow furrowed, asking her question, confused as to what God himself wanted with her.

Chucks head hemmed and hawed back and forth. “See, you’re causing problems for my story. You were an unforeseen consequence for the Winchesters. You’re a plot problem, Y/n,” he explained matter of factly to her, still smiling. That was going to get infuriating.

She had no idea what he meant, yet he was approaching her. 

“See,” he paused, “I have plans for the Winchesters, and you constantly seem to be in the way when it concerns Dean. I can’t have that this time.” That smug smile was still resting on his face.

She eyed him warily. “I don’t know—“

“Don’t lie, Y/n. You always try to save Dean, you intervene, even from afar. I cannot have that. So, you’re coming with me, sweetie.” That deceiving sweet look was still on his face, and she began to struggle against him, holding her against the wall.

“Shhh, you’re going to be fine, but I have to keep you with me. You meddle too much.” Chuck snapped his fingers.

Next thing she knew, she opened her eyes and was in a dark room. It was closer to a swanky home than a dingy warehouse. Her gaze took in the finished wood floors, expensive furniture, and the wilderness outside the door. An even dusting of snow-capped the mountains in the distance. Where the hell did he send her? She was still immobile, and upon further inspection, she found that she was strapped to, well… a cross. How poetic of him.

 Pulling on the restraints was no use, but she struggled against the ropes for over an hour before showing his face again, walking into the office.

“Now,” Chuck began in a cheery tone, pulling his jacket off, hanging it up.

 “Where are we, you shrew?” she snapped quickly, chilly, still only dressed her tank top and night pants.

“Alaska, actually. Very remote, humans can only get here by boat or plane. We’re in the middle of nowhere. You’re not going to scream, and whine are you?” He asked, looking displeased. “I mean, I thought you were stronger than that.”

 Her eyes narrowed at him. “I knew I was an agnostic for a good reason. You are nothing anybody wants to believe in. It’s wretched, really,” her voice snarled at the tiny God.

Chuck’s lips pursed, then clucked, his smile returning. “I really wish I had thought of you as a character. Truly, you have so many flaws to work in, though.” He picked up papers off his desk. “Unrequited love for Dean,” he tossed the paper away. “You’re an orphan, abandonment issues, which both Winchesters solidified, mind you.” He looked up at her and threw that paper aside. “Drugs,” another paper tossed aside. “Alcohol, bad eating habits, promiscuous, you’re actually very cliché, Y/n.” He thumbed through papers in front of him.

Her jaw ground together as she rolled her eyes. “Even the typical… ‘oh, I love the bad boy, and he hates me’ thing,” Chuck looked at her blandly.” Can you be any more pathetic?” God shook his head, throwing it on the desk. “Yet, still, you have become a nuisance, a headache where Dean is concerned.” Putting his fingers against his chin and wrapping an arm around his waist, he circled you as his finger rose into the air. “I know about Butte, Montana.”

Those words sent ice through her veins; she withered in her restraints. Chuck took the time to actually step up into her face for the next part. “I also know how hard you worked to make him forget and yourself.” His voice was like the sound of a whisper from a serpent: she knew she had to comply. She had to protect Dean—hell, even herself—from that memory.

Chuck smirked a Cheshire cat-like smile, knowing he had her. “So, I win,” he winked at her, her body sagging in defeat against the literal cross she was on.

@formulafun @winchest09 @emoryhemsworth @talesmaniac89 @superfanficnatural​ @flamencodiva​​ @janicho88​ @katehuntington​ @waywardbeanie​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @pegasusdragontiger​ @thorne93​ @anathewierdo​ @jensengirl83​ @jules-1999​ @deanwanddamons​ @atc74​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @magellan-88​

[hottpinkpenguin]

Letting Someone Go - Part 2

Benny Cross X Female Reader A/n: part 1 is here! Word Count: 2014 Warnings: cursing, alcohol use Taglist: @real-lana-del-rey @putherup

Fifteen months. That was all it took for you to find Benny, love him, and lose him. The easy version of your story went like this: it was Kathy Bauer’s fault. Simple as pie, like your mama used to say. 

The truth was a lot different. The truth was messy and it hurt a hell of a lot more. Because the truth was that you hadn’t lost Benny at all. To lose something, you have to have it in the first place. And when you were being really honest with yourself, you knew that you never had Benny Cross. You had as much of a claim to him as a kite does to the wind. That was to say, none at all. 

You didn’t like the truth. But, you weren’t the kind of girl who could live a lie either. So, you did the only thing you could think of: you ran away. Kathy Bauer’s first night in the Vandals bar was early November, Benny broke it off with you in early December. You spent Christmas drunk and stoned. And by New Years, you were gone. 

You thought putting Chicago - and Benny - in the rearview mirror would help. You’d banked on it helping. Running was your only plan. There wasn’t any other choice, really. Sure, some of the Vandals had pitched you on sticking around, club president Johnny among them. Your waitressing pal Sheila had asked you to move in with her, given that you were now two months’ behind on rent without Benny’s side-hustle cash around to help pay the bills. Hell, Cal had even offered you a soft place to land on the left side of his queen sized mattress. 

None of those offers had tempted you for even an instant. So, while the rest of America was counting down the final seconds of 1965 from their couches, you were sitting on the back of your fully customized Sportster, driving like a bat out of hell on the back roads leading west out of Chicago. Your only destination was the fuck out of here. 

It took you fifteen months to figure out what love was and to lose it again. You weren’t sure how long it was going to take you to do something approximating move on, but you figured it would be a lot longer than fifteen months. And you were right.

***********************

Your phone rang at 3:13am in the morning on September 19th, 1969. The first thing you thought was that your daddy must have finally died. Sonofabitch had been fighting a chainsmoker’s strain of lung cancer for almost six months now, and damn had it been a hard fight. Your mama had actually begged you not to come home and see him. Nothin’ you can do here, baby she said in her soft, sad voice each time you called and asked if you should come home. Your daddy, for his part, couldn’t talk anymore, on account of the laryngectomy the doctors gave him a few weeks prior. He’d declined one of those robotic voice boxes. Figured he’d said all he needed to at this point. Nobody wanted to hear the ramblings of an old biker on death’s door at this point. Especially himself.

But it wasn’t your mama’s voice on the other end. It was Johnny Davis.

“Hey, kid.” Not a question, not a hey, how are ya. It had been almost four years since the last time you’d talked to Johnny. Four years since you’d last seen a Vandals cutte. You wished you could say it had been that long since you’d thought about the club, but that would be a damn lie. Your mind drifted back to a certain handsome blonde-haired blue-eyed biker almost every day. 

It took you a minute to place the voice on the other end. It was familiar in the way a dream is familiar, but between the fog of leftover whiskey, a deep sleep, and buried memories, it didn’t come to you quickly.

“Who’s this?” you asked, wiping the tired out of your eyes.

“Oh, uh, well. It’s Johnny.” 

There it was.

“Johnny? Johnny Davis?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s me, kid. Listen. How you been?”

You couldn’t help but let out a short, sad chuckle. The easy answer to that question was oh, I been alright Johnny, you? But the truth was something more like, well Johnny, let’s see, since I last saw you in Chicago I’ve been on the road pretty much constantly for four years, running for so long I can’t tell if I’m running to or away from something, much less what that thing is. I’ve picked up about a dozen bad habits, like drinking too much and riding too fast and going home with the first guy who’ll buy me a brew at a bar. Oh, and by the way, my daddy’s dying. 

But Johnny didn’t deserve your bitterness. Especially not at 3:14 in the morning. 

“You know me, Johnny, I’ve been doin’ just fine. Why’re you callin’ so early?”

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. An image of Johnny, taking a deep drag on one of those Pall Malls he loved to smoke, came to you in the darkness. In the quiet of his reply, you heard a dense grief. You braced yourself for what you were sure was bad news and flicked on the bedside lamp on your nightstand. Next to you, the latest biker boy of the week stirred grumpily and waved at you to turn the light off. You ignored him, throwing off the covers and dangling your feet over the side of your mattress.

“Well, kid. It’s Brucie.”

Brucie. It took the air out of your lungs. You could have named a half-dozen Vandals you’d expect to kick the bucket before Brucie. Zipco, Wahoo, Corky. Hell, even Johnny himself. And Benny, of course. You couldn’t help but feel the knot in your chest relax an inch to know that Johnny wasn’t calling to tell you that it was Benny. But damnitall, Brucie? Careful, pragmatic, thoughtful Brucie? What the fuck was Gail gonna do?

“Brucie? What the fuck happened?”

Another jagged inhale on the other end. Johnny was crying, you realized. It gutted you.

“Oh, you know. 1967 Pontiac came outta nowhere, you know, just caught him in a bad way. It’s always the ones you don’t see comin’, y’know? Fuckin’ Pontiac.”

“Jesus, Johnny. Brucie? Shit.”

You lit a cigarette of your own as you let your mind wander back to your time in Chicago. Brucie was solid, Johnny’s right-hand man and a kind, gentle sorta guy. You’d liked him instantly, and Gail too. Real good folk. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s been hard, y’know, I mean, club is real beat up over it.”

“Fuck, Johnny, I don’t even know whatta say. I’m so sorry.”

You and Johnny took matching drags and tried to swipe away your tears. The guy in your bed next to you rolled over and fixed you with a bleary-eyed glare. You couldn’t remember his name - Steve, maybe. You covered the receiver with your hand, told  him to get the fuck out, and drank down the last swallow of whiskey in the only upright glass on your nightstand.

“Yeah, well, I ‘preciate that, kid, I really do. Listen, we’re havin’ a get together for Brucie. Next weekend. Entire club, all charters gonna be there. Invited a few others, too. Ones that knew Brucie. I know he’d want you there.”

Of all the things Johnny had said to you tonight, this was the one that stole the air from your lungs. Go back to Chicago, to the Vandals? You weren’t sure how you’d do that. Or if you physically could. 

“Aw, shit Johnny. I dunno…”

“I know you got history here,” Johnny interrupted quickly. “I know you got… I know you got a lot you’re tryin’ not to come back to. I get it.” 

Lots of people might have tried to tell you they understood how you felt. You’d opened up about Benny to a few people since you’d left Chicago. Most people you met on the road were a little bit broken, like you. They were running, just like you, and they weren’t strangers to heartbreak and dead-endings and being fucked over. But, no matter how many times you tried to tell your story, you just never felt like you got it right. So nobody really understood it, because you weren’t sure you did. But Johnny? Johnny didn’t need to hear you tell it. He’d watched it happen. Maybe he really did get it.

Still, was that enough for you to go back? Unsure of what to say, you just stayed silent. Behind you, maybe-Steve was dragging himself out of bed, untangling his clothes from yours, and doing a shitty job of trying to stay quiet. 

“You think about it, aight? But I know you’ll come. For Brucie.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Johnny was right. ‘Course you’d go back for Brucie. 

“Aight well, I’ll let ya go then. Sorry for wakin’ you up.”

“Johnny, wait.” 

He hesitated. “Yeah, kid?”

“How’d you get my number?” 

There were about a million questions you wanted to ask Johnny, although you knew yourself enough at this point to know that you wouldn’t want the answers. So you asked the safest one you could think of.

He chuckled softly. “I keep an eye on my friends,” he replied cryptically before he said goodnight again, and the line went dead. You wished you knew what that meant, although just knowing that there was someone out there in the darkness who cared for you enough to go to the trouble of checking in with whatever backwater charters you shacked up with (because realistically that was the only way Johnny would ever be able to keep up with you) made your heart warm. 

“Who the fuck was that?” demanded maybe-Steve. He was halfway out the door of the dingy room you’d rented in this roadside motel, hoping you might still ask him to stay. 

“Old friend,” you said brusquely as you stood up and threw an old tshirt over your bare chest, heading for the door behind him. “Time for you to hit the road,” you told him by way of invitation, pointing towards his bike in the parking lot. 

“It’s fuckin’ 3:30 in the mornin’, you sure I can’t just sleep it off here?” 

“Nah, fuck that. Get lost.” 

He grimaced and spat thickly on the ground. For an instant you wondered if he was going to give you trouble, but he just shook his head in disgust and left you there to curl up on the rickety plastic chair outside your motel room with plans to chain-smoke until sunrise. You watched him go, his tail light streaking across the long, dark, flat expanse of Iowa farmland until it melted with blackness around it. Your mind was fluttering with all kinds of memories and thoughts that Johnny’s voice had stirred up. Rather than try and fight it, you let yourself sink beneath the surface and zone out, wading through a chapter of your life that you’d deluded yourself into believing was over. The sun had climbed up over the horizon by the time you came back to yourself with a bleak glance around the ramshackle motel. Your Sportster was gleaming like a lighthouse over in the corner of the lot under the only tree around for miles, a huge black walnut that seemed to be holding up its branches and asking the sky to sweep it up and take it away from here. Exactly how you felt. 

Unable to fight against yourself anymore, you splashed cold water on your face, tied your hair up, shoved your belongings into the leather saddlebags you’d been living out of for the last four years, and got on the back of your Sportster. As soon as you kickstarted your bike, you knew where you were going. Straight back to Chicago, back to the Vandals, to Benny. Straight back home.

read part 3 here **let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!

[r3b3lgrrrrrrrl]

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 109 2Xs2) "Welcome To The Hotel Diablo"

@crystalbaby12 @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @5sosfam1dlover @rosefilledhearts-blog

El Diablo begins play as the lights go up. The masses lose their minds at the sight of the full stage. Luna's next to Colson with Casie. Pete, Ashleigh, Dom and Ashley are close by. Sam's near Baze as Dub, Noah, Mod, Caroline, Naomi, Trippie and Skies spread out around them.

Only Colson has a mic but you can barely hear him as everyone rapid fires the lyrics with him. Luna dances with Pete, Ashleigh and Casie while teasing Colson as he moves around his friends on stage. All of them loudly shouting how they KEEP THEIR CIRCLE TIGHT.

It's a fun and unique sight. Something that will never be recreated again. A true gift from Colson to his original fan base.

"THANK YOU!! WE FUCKING LOVE YOU FAM!! SEE YOU AT ESTFEST!!" Colson screams as the lights go down one final time.

Kissing Casie's cheek, he glances over at Ashleigh. Her nod tells him she's Got It. With that, he slings a squealing Luna over his shoulder and trots OffStage. He's got his own Backstage Ritual to attend to.

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

"That was so fucking intense, Bunny!" Luna exclaims once Colson sets her down.

"I know." His mouth buzzes into her's as they strip off each other's clothes.

Colson lifts Luna up onto the small table against the wall. Having lit a joint as he carried her down the hall, she lifts it to his lips.

"I love you." He lightly chuckles as he exhales.

Guiding his thick cock into her warm pussy, Luna groans out in pleasure. Wrapping her legs around him to pull him in closer as he begins to thrust into her. Luna sucks on Colson's neck before lifting the joint to his lips. Grabbing her by the back of her neck, he kisses her hard. Exhaling his hit and filling her lungs.

The extra carbon dioxide makes Luna heady. She closes her eyes and runs her hands through Colson's hair. Enjoying his cock as he plays with her pierced nipples and nibbles on her ear. There's a sweet electricity to Colson and Luna's sex. It's passionate and rough but not aggressive.

Clenching herself around his dick, Luna lowly moans out Colson's name. Letting him wash over her as she gets them high. Colson grips her ass and lower back, making his way deeper into her. With her head back and neck exposed, Colson draws his tongue over her tattooed skin before opening wide and biting her JUST enough to make them both cum.

"Holy FUUUUUCK, Bunny!!" Luna cries out as her body shakes with his in pleasure.

"Can't say I don't know your spots." Colson sighs with a grin as he kisses her.

"I love you too." Floats from between Luna's lips in a content sigh as she closes her eyes and leans her forehead against his.

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

Dressed in a pair of tight, black shorts, sheer tights, a printed black tank and knee high black boots, Luna's hair is still loose. Colson had tossed on a dark T and jeans while Luna had cut out their lines. Burning, kissing and snorting before making their way BackStage.

Everyone's in high spirits, celebrating the epic show and album's success. Casie reminds her dad of the necklaces and helps Colson pass off the coveted Double X chains to Naomi, Trippie, Ashleigh, Skies and Dub. They all go on to toast Colson, Hotel Diablo's release and each other while hugging and joking together.

It's not long before they have to head out to Velvet Dog for the release party. Casie gets huge GoodByes and Love before Bullet leads her and Ashleigh out to a private SUV. Her and Bullet will meet back up with them after dropping off Casie to Emma.

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

The rest of them pile into multiple other SUVs. They're headed DownTown to a smaller, more intimate nightclub. Each of them chatting, drinking and getting stoned along the way in the five seperate vehicles.

Leaving Agora wasn't a problem. Pulling up to Velvet Dog, they can see it's gonna be much more of a hassle getting in there. Fans and The Paparazzi are surrounding it from all angles. The venue's own security is doing it's best at controlling the chaos. Benny's driving Colson, Luna, Rook, Baze and Sam.

"What do you wanna do, Kells?" Benny asks looking over his shoulder.

"Fuck it, make a path and let's get the fuck in there." He shrugs at Benny. Turning to Luna, he looks at her seriously. "Do NOT let go of my hand." He asserts before kissing her.

Luna nods a silent Yes as Benny taps on the window. Grabbing Luna's hand, he confirms everyone's ready before opening the door. Making Luna laugh when he shouts WE OUT.

Outside in the dark it's bright. It's loud. People are aggressive and Colson is on a mission. Clutching Luna's hand, he pulls her through the crowd behind Benny. Colson's super focused. Knowing how much she hates crowds, he's trying to successfully get them inside before anyone can stop them, seperate them or say anything to piss either of them off.

He does. Like a champion. Winning him a thousand happy kisses from a grateful Luna.

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

Inside is just as crazy. Record executives are there. Other artists from Interscope. More family and friends from Cleveland along with fellow supportive friends who flew in from LA and Philly.

Normally ones to seperate and work their own aspects of a room, Colson keeps Luna close to him tonight. She doesn't mind, happily staying by his side as he introduces her to those she doesn't know and they greet mutual acquaintances and friends they have together. Watching them in action, they truly are a Power Couple. Both of them smart, charming, gorgeous and engaging. Easily laughing and enjoying each other as they glide through to the nightclub celebrating Colson and The Boys.

They run into Johnny, Colson's partner in his 27 Club coffee venture. Unlike Dub, Johnny isn't leery of Luna. Colson listening with amusement as the two easily connect over music, the pain of starting up a business and his shocking love of her paintings.

"Yeah, I caught your exhibit back in '15.... Your shit is incredible. I wanted to buy a piece but none of it was for sale surprisingly..." Johnny trails off with furrowed eyebrows.

"That's myyy girl for ya." Colson laughs as he tosses his arm carefully around Luna's shoulders. "Dawg, she's a snob. She don't sell shit... if I didn't hear them myself, I wouldn't even believe she has seven fucking records!" He laughs looking down at Luna's rolling eyes as he kisses her forehead.

"Maaan..." Luna begins to whine with a smile.

"Why don't you sell your stuff?" Johnny asks.

"I hate you." Luna lightly chuckles as she nuzzles her head against Colson's chest before answering Johnny. "Most of my physical work is made for someone or something intentional. I'm not comfortable with someone else owning something that holds my intimacy with another." She tries to explain to his accepting nod.

"So then why release your music?" Colson challenges her.

"Because that's universal.... And it's MY guts I'm bearing not some..."

"You got like 20 mins, Kells." Ashleigh interupts them.

"Oh shit, alright. You coming with me, Kitten?" He asks looking down at her.

"Of course." She reassures with a smile. "We'll catch up later. It was a pleasure to meet you." Luna beams as she shakes Johnny's hand.

Before he can agree, she's gone. Hand in hand with Colson. Blonde hair trailing behind her like a memory.

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

Their performances during the record release party were equally on point. Some more fun while others are more thought provoking and gut wrenching.

Catching certain faces before he had hit the stage, Colson decided to have Luna pop OnStage during Hollywood Whore. Cutting in only to recite the changed lyrics the way he wanted her to. As always, on and off stage, Luna was nothing short of a wreckage to be dealt with. Her powerful voice reaming out the room with Colson's truth as she moved her tiny, tattooed body seductively around her Lover before propping herself against his slender one.

🎶It's because of y'all//He couldn't understand//The worth of his career//'Cause of y'all//He hated himself//For so many years//'Cause of you//He never thought//That he could trust//But//You better watch your back//Cuz he's about to wife//ME up🎶

Her slip in had been flawless. Sending their friends into an uproar as Colson grabbed Luna's ass. Neither missing a beat while she trotted OffStage.

The rest of the gig went off without a hitch. Smoke and lights exploded around them constantly while Naomi and Phem's voices were on perfect pitch. Trippie and Lil Skies nailed their own features with Colson and Dom killing their performance of I Think I'm Okay.

With no encore planned, Luna and Colson went HARD on Bad Things. Both of their voices strong as The Boys roared behind them and they passionately played and pushed off each other. Their performance intense and extremely sexual as Luna ran the stage with her presence and Colson with his guitar. To this day, it's both of their favorite times OnStage.

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

Trying to escape to his dressing room with a laughing Luna over his shoulder, Colson is stopped. By Diddy and Jimmy Iovine of all fucking people. Setting her down, the couple addresses the two men.

"Yo!! Be proud, Son. That shit was fire!!" Diddy proudly proclaims as he pulls Colson in for a full on hug.

Luna and Jimmy stand eyeballing each other. He doesn't know what to say to her and she's not fucking up Colson's Big Night.

"You too, Kid!" Sean says to Luna as he pulls her in for a hug once he's released Colson.

"That was an extraordinary show." Jimmy says, offering his hand to Colson.

"Thank you. I appreciate that. I leave everything I have OnStage every time I perform." Colson answers as he shakes his hand.

"It shows." Jimmy nods his head, never seeing Colson perform before he's beyond impressed by the underrated artist.

"He's going overseas..." Sean says to Luna as Jimmy and Colson interact.

"I know." Luna answers with a nod.

"With Hotel Diablo debuting so high, if the momentum keeps up I'm adding more US dates after." He says as he studies her reaction.

"Then you better get us a bigger bus... And. I don't want fucking Don." Luna eyes Diddy with a seriousness to her tone.

"What's your problem with him?" He asks with a laugh.

"He's a fucking douche who has no respect for Colson.... You know how I feel about that, Sean." Luna giving two answers that they both know.

"Alright, no Don." Diddy laughs at her.

"And a bigger bus?" Luna pushes.

"We'll see." Colson's boss laughs at his girlfriend. "Just don't mention any extra dates. I don't wanna hype him up til I'm sure..."

"So, bigger bus?" Luna smirks.

"Yeah. Bigger bus, you bitch." Diddy laughs as he pulls her in for a hug. "He's lucky to have you. You're one of the very FEW I give into." He continues to laugh as he kisses her cheek.

"I know." Luna grins at him. "And I love and appreciate you for it." She asserts before squeezing him again tightly and making him laugh even more.

"You better marry this bitch before she changes her mind!" Diddy continues laughing as Luna releases him from their hug.

"Psh... As quick as I can, Boss." Colson laughs as Luna tucks herself under his arm.

"YEEEOOOOOO!!!" Comes a loud voice above them.

"Looks like you got more shit to attend to. We'll catch up soon. Congratulations, Slick. I'm proud of you." Diddy says, dapping it out and hugging Colson once more before disappearing with Jimmy.

"I SAID YEEEOOOOOO!!" Tyree shouts as he bursts through the BackStage crowd.

"My mans!!" Colson hollers in delight as they embrace each other while Lamar and Luna happily greet each other in the meantime. "You made it!!" Colson says excitedly.

"Yeah... But without Ash we'd be dust in the wind, Homie." Ree replies with an annoyed look.

"My bad, Yo. But you're HERE!!" Colson shouts as he pulls Luna, Lamar and Tyree in for a group hug.

"Look at these motherfuckers." Dub comes up with a laugh.

Lamar and Tyree turn to greet their longtime friend. Dapping and laughing, the boys catch up while Luna stands awkwardly amongst them. Finding her exit clause, Dub calls her out.

"She don't like me." He teases her.

"Nah, Motherfucker. Don't put that shit on me.... You're the one who came up in here all Strong Man, Strong Man." Luna cocks her lip as she narrows her eyes.

Standing amidst Lamar and Tyree, Colson can't help but laugh at Dub from behind her. They may know... But he has no idea what he's in for.

"I don't know what your fucking problem with me is or where the fuck you get your Word from but until you climb on that bus or in a house with us... You better check your resources MOTHERFUCKER cuz you don't know shit. Bestfriends or not, we can buck. Right here. Right fucking now." Luna snarls with squared shoulders and a deadly look in her eyes.

"Ho!! Calm down, Shorty!!" Dub laughs, putting his hands up. "Don't shoot. I don't wanna fight, I was just pressen' you. You know. I gotta make sure you live up to that hype if you gonna lock my boy down!" Dub continues to laugh.

"What's goin' on over here?" Slim asks as he throws his arms around Luna and Dub.

"You, Bitch." Luna asserts as she ducks out from under his weight. "Don't think I don't fucking know." She spouts as her drunken eyes bounce between Slim and Dub. "It's alright though... He'll learn just like you did." She asserts as she snakes her head at both of them before dropping a middle finger, a kiss on Colson's long neck and turning to find someone more fun to hang out with.

"For real?" Colson asks both of them.

"Hey, I'm just goin' off what Slim said." Dub defends himself.

"Dawg, I AIN'T SPOKE TO YOU IN LIKE A WEEK!!" Slim uncharacteristically shouts, refusing to be thrown under the bus.

"Annnnnnnnd?" Dub cocks back.

"SHIT CHANGES!!" Slim continues to holler at his high school friend.

"Yo... Yo... Yo... Chill." Colson interupts them. "If anyone should be pissed it should be me, you back alley bitches. You got questions, words or problems with me and Luna, you come to ME. Don't be a couple of old lady pussies talking shit behind my fucking back."

"It wasn't shit, Kells." Slim starts to explain.

"It was enough for Dub-O to form a negative opinion about her before meeting her though, wasn't it.?" Colson shoots back as he tries to hold his anger.

Slim looks down sheepishly at Colson's words. He hadn't trusted Luna. At all, for a while. Even after she'd thrown down for his bestfriend multiple times. It wasn't until she stepped up when Bleta threatened Ashleigh and Benny and refused to lie to Colson, did Slim finally accept her. Dub doesn't know these things though because he wasn't on tour with them.

"Hey... Hey... Hey..." Dub comes jogging up behind Luna. "I'm sorry..." He says as he grabs onto her shoulder.

It's the wrong choice. The music and noise are too loud. The small BackStage area is filled with too many people. Not hearing Dub and only feeling his firm hand upon her, the New Yorker in Luna kicks in as she turns and lands a solid blow straight into his nose. Busting it wide open as he stumbles back off of his feet and onto the floor.

"WHAT THE FUUUUUCK!!" Dub shouts as he grasps his face.

"Don't ever fucking touch me." Luna replies emotionlessly before grabbing her leather and disappearing.

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

"Hey.... You okay?" Colson asks after finding Luna alone on the steps out back of the nightclub.

"I don't know... I think I'm losing my shit..." Luna sighs as she passes the lit joint she has to Colson.

"Why?" He asks as he takes a hit.

"I don't know... I just laid out one of your bestfriends, was rude to a fan on the street and fought with my Mom-Mom all in the last 3 days ." Luna let's out with an annoyed sigh.

"Why'd you fight with Patti?" Colson asks.

"Fuck me and my big stupid mouth." Luna mentally curses herself.

"It's nothing." She tries to brush Colson off.

"No, it's not." Colson isn't having her bullshit, he knows Luna doesn't fight with her grandmother.

"I need a PreNump." She sighs with frustration.

"Okay?" Colson asks with confusion.

"What do you mean okay?" Luna's drunk and irrational.

"I mean okay. I'm not marrying you for your shit so.... OKAY. I'll sign whatever as long as I still get YOU. That's all I want, Baby." His voice breaks as he climbs on to the step behind her and wraps himself around a confused Luna. "You."

"You don't care what the PreNump includes?" She asks with a slight attitude.

"No. I don't give a fuck." Grabbing her chin, he pulls her eyes to him. "I'm marrying you, Luna. Not THAT Brooklyn Bitch. Not Patti Smith and Robert Maplethorpe's granddaughter. Not the coolest chick in The World. Just you. My own personal Addy." He grins as he begins to attack her with sweet, sloppy kisses.

"Ahhhh!!! Stop!" Luna giggles as she tries to wiggle out of Colson's grasp. It doesn't work. Submitting, she holds his face in her hands as she stares into his beautiful blue eyes. "Thank you." She says first as she gently kisses his lips. "And I'm sorry for hitting Dub."

"He shouldn't have fucked with you." Colson replies with a shrug and a smirk. "Back inside, please?" He asks as he stands and offers Luna his hand.

"Yeah." She agrees as she rises to kiss him.

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

Back inside, the nightclub is going off. The DJ playing Hotel Diablo again in full as everyone dances and grooves. The words maybe alarmingly dark but the bop is on point.

"Yo. My bad." Dub immediately approaches Colson and Luna. "I was just trying to fuck wit you and clearly I shouldn't." He apologizes with a light laugh.

"No. I shouldn't have just swung, I'm sorry." Luna apologizes as she begins to rub her forehead.

"Nah, Ma, you good. I pushed to see how hard you'd rock... I didn't expect this shit but now I know!" Dub laughs at himself.

"I still feel like an Asshole." Luna admits.

"You good. I'd rather have Kells with a chick holding a solid right than some VSCO boujie bitch. We ride hard... And as much as it kills me to say it... I think you might ride harder!" Dub laughs again as Colson joins him.

"Enh... I got my name for a reason. Still, I'm really sorry about all that." Luna says as she gestures towards his nose.

"Stories, B. Stories." Dub winks at her with a smile as he opens his arms.

With that, Luna and Dub become friends. Her appreciating the lengths he will go to for Colson. Him respecting her fierce loyalty and the strong right fist she has for herself and her man.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The album release party is still in full swing. Colson dips off as Luna grabs her and Dub drinks before she looks at his nose. Apologizing for the thousandth time to his laughter before they make their own way into the party.

Sam and Baze are making out like teenagers in a corner. Luna finds Naomi, The Ash's and Dom as Floor 13 kicks in. Drinks in hand, they jive, jerk and rap along Colson and the unique beat. Colson's with Slim, Benny, Pete, Mar, Ree and Dub by the bar busting it up. Noah, Caroline, Mod and Phem find Luna, the Ash's and Dom, easily coaxing them to the dance floor as Roulette begins. Rook can be found macken' on girls with Trippie and Skies while Bullet watches all from his perch at the bar.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"What cha guys doin'..." Luna asks as she approaches The Boys at the bar.

Bad choice. Colson and Pete immediately pounce on her like the night at 30 Rock. Linking their arms together, they catch her again like they're playing London Bridge. Shaking her all about as they happily sing their made up song.

🎶We gotta Moon Pie. We'll never let her get by🎶

"Whhhyyyy????" Luna moans as they justle her back and forth.

🎶Even when she asks why. She's our drunken Moon Pie🎶

They continue to laugh as they toss her around. It takes strategic planning to get out of a mess like this, only a skilled mind could handle the pressure. Being a smart cookie, Luna turns and throws her arms around Colson's neck and pulls him in for a perfectly distracting kiss. With her fingers climbing up his neck into his hair and her tongue dancing in his mouth, Colson has no choice but to let go of Pete's hands as they begin to roam around Luna. Pressing his large palm in between her shoulder blades as he kisses her deeply.

"Man... Fuck you guys." Pete complains as he leaves them be.

"🎶And a Moon Pie got away🎶 Luna sings to herself as she enjoys Colson's mouth much more than his and Pete's stupid ass game.

"Mmmm... You may taste good but you're not slick." Colson smirks once their mouths seperate.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Luna replies with a devilish smile.

"Okay, Moon Pie." Colson laughs before kissing her again. "Grab a drink?" He asks as he gazes at her.

"Yeup." Luna smiles brightly at Colson, standing on her tippy toes to kiss him before they make their way to the bar.

"KELLS!!!" Naomi comes barreling up to Colson, grabbing him around the waist into a huge hug. "I haven't seen you but I met Luna!!" She exclaims. "I LOVE her. Where is she??" Naomi adamantly asks.

"Right here." Colson laughs, pointing behind him to Luna's back, she's facing the bar ordering them drinks.

"She is the best." Naomi drunkenly decides. "Do you know that she keeps dry shampoo in her bag and that she's got these weed candies that taste like yellow SweetTarts? She gave me two. One for now and one for later... Who does that, Bro? She's like a tiny, beautiful, little, tattooed drug pixie. I think you should marry her." Naomi declares.

"Good thing you chose first then, hunh?" Luna comments with a huge smile as she joins Colson and Naomi.

Holding her Old Fashioned, she passes Colson his Henny straight up. Always having a trick up her sleeve, Luna easily passes Naomi her seltzer and lime as a vodka and seltzer. She's too drunk to tell the difference and water is gooood.

"I love this SON OF A BITCH!!" Naomi shouts as she grabs ahold of Colson. "Will you take a quick picture of us?" She asks Luna, handing over her phone.

"Sure... Hold on... Ready?" Luna asks trying to set them up.

It's in the the dark. On a phone's camera. In a club. Looking at it, it is definitely NOT her best work.

"I can retake it." Luna offers.

"No!! I love it" Naomi gushes as she hugs Luna. "Catch you later?" She asks, pointing at Colson's confused nod. Two quick kisses to each of their cheeks and she's off with a "Cool... Love you guuuuyyyysssss!"

"She's fantastic." Luna states as she watches Naomi disappear.

"SHOTS!" Rook hollers as he makes his way towards Luna and Colson.

"So, I heard you hit Dub." Rook immediately states once they've downed the clear liquor.

"What the fuck... I'm never gonna live that down." Luna groans as she puts her head in her hands.

"Nope." Colson and Rook say in unison, their laughter makes Luna groan even more.

The release party keeps going. Top shelf liquor easily flowing. Everyone's having a blast. Dancing, drinking and joking as they enjoy each other's company. They keep the party rolling until they're kicked out around 430A.

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

Almost EVERYBODY comes back to Colson's. That would be The Blonde Don himself, THAT Brooklyn Bitch, Rook, Ashley, Dom, Lamar, Tyree, Noah, Caroline, Phem, Mod, Trippie, Skies, Benny, Bullet and a gaggle of girls.

Ashleigh had decided to go home to her family instead. While Baze and Sam tried to catch some privacy at his spot and Naomi some sleep in her hotel. Slim deciding not to go home but to follow the party as it rages on.

Always having instruments on hand, they begin a jam session. Starting off with the original riffs from Hotel Diablo before twisting them into acoustic versions. Luna and Noah subbing in for Naomi when needed.

Alcohol and blunts roll through the room as they run through different songs, joke and laugh at each other. The party going well into the ACTUAL sunshining morning.

"Yo. That could work.... That acoustic jawn. It's something different and totally sick..." Slim tells Colson as he stops him and Luna on their way upstairs, knowing exactly the seed he's planting.

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

"I'm so proud of you." Luna coos as she pulls off her shirt and bra.

"I'm proud of those titties!" A naked Colson laughs. "Now bring 'em hear!" He demands as he pulls Luna closer to him and buries his face in her plump breasts.

"Mmmm.... Show me more of what your proud of." Luna giggles.

"I'm proud of this nipple and this nipple." He says as he lightly nips at them. "I'm proud of this scorpion." He says as he traces it with his tongue. Pulling her shorts off, he kisses each thing. "I'm proud of this leg and this leg...." Colson looks up at her with a cocky grin, grabbing her ass cheeks he pulls her closer to his face. "I'm proud of this pussy." His deep voice says, his lips just barely touching her lips but his baritone easily vibrating her skin.

"Alright." Luna pants as she pulls his face up to hers. "You got me, now give it to me." She says after she kisses his soft lips.

"Get on the bed the way I like." Colson directs Luna.

On all fours she goes, ass in the air, perky and dying in anticipation. Colson gives her one HARD

❗SLAP❗

Making her squirm in delight before dragging her closer to him by her hips. Running his fingers along her lips he can feel her dripping for him. Reaching around, he sticks his finger in her mouth as he enters her. Luna's back arches as she sucks her juices off his finger. Both moaning in pleasure as Colson makes his way deep inside of her.

Releasing her mouth, Colson slaps her ass again. Making Luna buck against him. Slamming her ass into his hips as he fucks her from behind. Colson runs his hand up Luna's bare slender back to the base of her hair. Wrapping his fingers inside her long locks, he grips her hip tighter. Demanding her to cum.

Luna's already came twice before so a yank of the hair is just icing on the cake. Letting her body go, she shakes and quivers as she feels Colson's dick pulsate inside of her as he drops his load.

"Fuck, Luna." Escapes from his pants as he moves her hair to kiss her lower neck, making her purr.

They lay there quietly, Colson's still inside of Luna as he plays with her hair. Just as she's about to drift off, his voice brings her back to reality.

"You're still gonna go tomorrow?" Colson asks lowly as they lay together.

"I have to." She replies lightly as she tries to train her breath.

"You HAVE to take a shit. "You don't HAVE to see Jackson." Colson states as a matter of fact as he rolls out of her.

"But I do have to mindfully wipe my ass after I take a shit." Luna retorts irritated by his frustration.

"What does that even fucking mean?" Colson jerks his head to look at her.

"I don't know..." She giggles as she pulls his face close. "I don't wanna fight though... Can we just be? We never get to just be." Luna says as she drunkenly snuggles into Colson neck.

"You're coming home tomorrow?" He asks with a trembling assertiveness to his tone.

"Absolutely.... Now, can we just be Us?" She answers with a pout as she lifts her head to kiss his neck in reassurance before snuggling deeper into him.

"Yeah, we can just be Us." He sighs as he holds her naked body close to his and kisses her tossled hair.

"It better be just Us...." Colson's heart pounds. "I swear to God, I'll kill 'em both.... Fuck, she's gonna leave me like my mom... She can't... I'll will FUCK some MAJOR shit up... Calm down, Kells. You trust her.... Don't fuck this up by spinning out.... You're not Justin.... You've got her. She KNOWS that.... She loves you." Colson's mind is trying to battle all the underlying insecurities that are bubbling up.

"Bunny... You feel alright?" Luna sits up asking.

"Yeah... Why?" Colson lies.

"Because I can feel you not breathing and your heart pounding through your chest... So... What's up?" She asks as she begins to stroke his hair.

"Ahhhh... Nerves." He sighs, half lying now.

"About?" Luna pries as she continues to stroke his blonde hair.

"Fucking Jackson." He slightly admits as he reaches for a joint.

"And...." Luna continues to lead as he sparks it.

"And that you'll leave me like my mom did." He exhales a cloud of frustrated smoke.

Luna pulls Colson into her chest. Stroking his hair again, she's silent as they share the joint. It's not an awkward silence. It's the sad silence of two children who never had their mothers for different reasons.

Once the joints finished, neither need to speak. Colson reaching over to turn the side light off as Luna slides down comfortably into the bed. Resting his head on the pillow with her arm under his neck, they lay face to face in the dark. Colson pulls her closer by the small of her back as they tangle their legs inside each other. Luna let's out a shuddered breath of content as she falls into Colson's body and hold. Stroking his face, in the dark, there's no words. Just a heartfelt, lingering kiss and one thought that drifts between them both as they fall asleep.

"FUCK, I fucking love you."

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

Word Limit 2 of 2

To be continued.....

[cumberficsandmore-blog]

Spelling Fights

Word Count: 1,816

Authors: Deka & Ale

Warning: None, just fluffiness

Pairing: Benedict Cumberbatch x Wife!Reader

Summary: The little fight between an American and a British couple

Credits to this video for the awesome interview: https://youtu.be/eX2M6Lf8WKc

“So, the interview is tonight at eight, right?” I asked, standing behind the scenes of The Hobbit, Ben had just finished his scene as Smaug with the sensors and the tech stuff.

“Yes, but don’t get nervous. You’ll be fine” Benedict smirked, mocking me.

Oh, seriously Benny? He started the game, not knowing I was going to win again. This little game consisted in making fun of each other because of our nationalities, that cute british bastard.

“Of course I’ll be fine” I responded with my head high, I was too proud to quit now.

“But don’t forget that we’re in England. I’m worried people won’t understand what you’re saying, that’s all” He said.

“I can speak properly and I’m sure everyone will get my words, darling” I added with a british accent.

“But I can speak sexier” He winked at me.

“I’m afraid you don’t. ‘Football’, really? Soccer says almost everyone”.

“Everyone is only America? C’mon. At least I don’t say ‘math’, the right way to say it is Maths, you uncultured woman”

I was quiet for a moment, “FREEDOM” I shouted, and the fight began.

Two hours after the little chat with Benedict, we were at home having lunch before getting prepared for the interview. We looked at each other giggling, both of us knew what was going to happen, and we were prepared for the battle. At the beginning it all started as a joke, but now was a whole new rivalry. Ben was chosing a few cookies to eat and I was making some tea, it was a relaxing silence but then my dear husband started screaming.

“That is not how you make tea!” He cried out trying to sound attacked.

“Oh my God, are you serious? We’re not having that conversation again. I highly recommend you to leave the kitchen or…”.

He kissed my cheek interrupting and I smiled wildly.

“I love you, you know that? But maybe we should change tasks. Let me take care of this and you pick the cookies. Deal?”.

I sighed dramatically.

“Yes, we better”.

“Yeah, you can’t just squish the tea bag with the spoon. That’s wrong, love”

“Sorry Mr. Britishguy Sillyname”

He laughed and so did I.

Now we were waiting for someone to tell us to enter the room where the interview was held, everyone took turns, first was Richard Armitage, then Martin and Benedict and I were the last ones. As an actress I was in a lot of movies with Ben. Directors and writers had told us that we have an unique chemistry, but I didn’t appear in The Hobbit trilogy. I joined the crew as a make-up artist and helped with the script, as a big fan of Tolkien I couldn’t miss that opportunity for anything in the world.

“They’re taking a lot of time, aren’t they?” Benedict said, I couldn’t tell if he was worried or excited.

“Is there anything you know about this interview that I don’t?” I asked calmly, “you’re into something, right?”

“Me? Nah. Oh, wait, do you smell that?”.

“Smell what?”.

“Fear”.

I rolled my eyes.

“Okay Smaug the Almighty Destructor of Villages, what have you done?”

“Nothing, I swear!”

He stroked gently my waist.

“Mr. and Mrs Cumberbatch, it’s your turn” announced a blonde woman who happened to be the interviewer.

Before doing so we greeted Martin and talked with him a few seconds. Then, Benedict held the door for me to walk in, so british of him. The purest gentleman.

“Good evening, and thanks a lot for attending me, it’s an honor to have you both here”.

I smiled at her and he shaked her hand.

“My name is Meriah Doty. So, firstly, how are you today?”.

“Great, yeah. Great indeed, although it’s brass monkeys out there”.

Damn.

“It means it’s cold outside” He whispered.

I could see in his smiley face he was forcing himself not to laugh.

“You don’t say!” I answered sarcastically.

Meriah cleared her throat and started to ask Benedict some questions fans sent her via Twitter and Facebook. I was getting a bit bored but then an interesting question popped up.

“So, @CumbercookieLove34 asked: how is it to work with your wife? Is it any competition between you two?”

I crossed my arms, paying full attention now.

“Competition?”.

He pretended to be searching for an answer.

“I wouldn’t name it a competition, but he’s always insulting me. Not in a bad way, you know? But… he’s very silly most of the time, ‘cause I’m the only American in the crew, with Lee Pace of course, but he’s as glorious as Thranduil so Benedict kind of forgives him somehow” I said suddenly.

“The thing is,” Ben started, ”she can’t manage my britishness and she’s mad because she only speaks a simplified version of English” he played the victim.

“Watch your mouth Buttercup Cumberpatch” and I rolled my eyes for what seemed the 10000th time. Meriah laughed again, ”See?” I turned around to face her, “I’m so tired”.

Ben patted my back and gave me that Puppy Eye’s Look, he really knows how to do that look and make you feel guilty.

“You can’t really imagine how is living with him. Complains about the tea and when I send him a text sometimes I spell words with only an ‘O’ instead of ‘OU’ and it drives him crazy, for instance, but he truly does everything he can just to irritate me” I said releasing a sigh. Meriah laughed again, really this girl is just supposed to laugh? “But then he’s a complete sweetheart and his polite self takes control so he says sorry all the time” I chuckled.

Benedict laughs uncontrollably.

“But hey, we love each other after all, so don’t worry, we’re gonna stick together until the end” I said looking straight to the camera.

“‘Gonna’” He repeated.

“Yep” I stated marking the ‘p’.

“Well, you guys are definitely the cutest couple of all time. We’re playing a game now. I searched photos of the cast and you’re going to guess who are they just by looking at their feet” The interviewer said excitedly.

“This is gonna be so much fun” I said already laughing, oh my God, I turned into Meriah.

“So, this is the first one” she showed us a picture of a person with his face and body covered.

“Ugh, whoever that is they got some weird looking feet” I commented.

“Martin Freeman” Benedict said without thinking twice. The interviewer giggled.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, how could you… how ca… Wait what? Do you have a foot fetish for Martin? Oh my God I knew it!” I fangirled in front of camera, “just so you know, people…” (I paused to create a little of dramatism) “I ship Johnlock”.

Both Benedict and Meriah laughed so hard that I swear I heard a snort.

“That’s actually quite right. I took her to the Sherlock Set once and every time we finished a scene with strong content, like the one in the pool or when I jumped… well, you know, spoilers. The point is that she always clapped and hugged Martin and I, and I remember perfectly she said ‘You two are so shippable’. Oh, was that too long? I’m sorry I just wanted to tell the story” He giggled shyly while blushing.

“Oh, and by the way, sorry Martin, you have wonderful feet” I smiled.

“You two are so cute, guys” Meriah complimented. “So, the second one is… this!” She showed us another picture.

“Mmm… James Nesbitt?” I guessed.

“Peter Jackson” Benedict said. No hesitation.

“Yeah! Point for Benedict!” Meriah told us.

“What?! I swear this guy has a foot fetish” I tried to mask my bad loser mood.

“I’m so good at this” He said proudly.

“Okay, so this one is a bit difficult but the black and white is the key” The interviewer said revealing the photo.

It was pretty obvious that it was taken a lot of years ago.

“Mmm...”

“Richard?” Ben inquired.

“Ian McKellen!” I literally shouted, I was sure it was him.

“Correct! You’re good Y/N” Meriah greeted me.

“In your face Buttercup!” I did a short but intense party dance in the chair, “I guessed it and you didn’t!” Ben just watched me as he smiled sweetly. “Maybe the feet are overexposed”

“Yeah, I don’t know why Ian McKellen’s feet are overexposed” He said in his Sherlock kind of voice, “that was rude…”

The three of us laughed.

“The next one,” Meriah said “is this one!” She showed us a photo of two people jumping in the air.

“Mmmm…” I started thinking, “one is Benedict, I know it, but the oth…”

“Me and Jonny Lee Miller” He said quickly, “Jonny Lee Miller and I” He corrected himself.

“Amazing! And Martin Freeman corrected me because his face was plastered in Johnny Lee Miller’s…, my bad” Meriah said.

“Yeah, that’s bullshit. Who did that?” He went to grab the photo.

“I thought it was him, I found it like that on the internet” She explained. “Okay, next and last one”.

“Oh Lord” I exclaimed. Benedict stretched out in his chair and approached the lady with the photograph.

“Richard… Armitage?” He wondered, confused.

“I… don’t know…  Stephen Hunter?”

The interviewer showed us the whole picture.

“Evangeline, oh my God” Benedict covered his mouth, surprised, “Oh my God” He laughed really hard, “Fuck” He kept laughing, covering his eyes with the palm of the hand.

“Well, that" I pointed at him with my finger ”is definitely rude”

I was super tired so I decided to sit in the back of the car so I could lay down and fall asleep more easily, but instead of that, I was staring at Benedict’s side profile.

“You’re beautiful” he declared suddenly.

He kept his eyes on the road but I noticed he was grinning.

“You are beautiful too, and I love your accent” I said sternly and he smiled sweetly, “and I also love your otter face”

He tried not to laugh too much so he couldn’t get distracted.

“You have the otter face… otter face.” He tried to make a good insult and failed.

“You sure it’s me who has that face? Your cumberbitches and probably the rest of the multiverse says it’s you who owns that title, my love”

“It’s cumbercollective” He sighed and rolled his eyes, copying me.

“We all know it is and will always be cumberbitches, get over it Buttercup”

“Not gonna happen”.

“Gonna? It seems like I’m who rules the relationship”.

“You’ve always ruled the relationship”

“I’m glad you’re day by day recognizing facts. Today’s been ‘gonna’, I’m curious about what’s gonna “I laughed hard when I said that” be tomorrow”.

“Oh, shut up”

That night, as we did since the very first time we shared a bed, we slept cuddling, then in the morning our innocent little verbal war continued.

[sheeran-usa]

Ed Sheeran: Up All Night With Pop's Hardcore Troubadour | Full Rolling Stone Interview

"Let's go to my place for the finale!" Ed Sheeran shouts as he hops into an SUV. It's just after midnight in London. Sheeran spent much of the evening in a bar, but even with his bright-red hair hidden under a ball cap, people started to recognize him. The DJ played one of his songs, and his friends had to create a wall around him so he could drink in peace. It all made him a little anxious, which is why we're speeding to his West London home to keep the party going.

Sheeran is celebrating tonight because he knows he's about to score his first Number One hit in America with "Shape of You," a sleek, funky stomper from his new album, ÷ (pronounced Divide). We're joined by his girlfriend, Cherry, and his old friends Zack, Nathan and Catherine, who have been watching him perform since he released his first album, The Spinning Man, when he was 13. "I went plywood," Sheeran, now 25, jokes about that LP. "Not gold. I sold 100 copies."

Sheeran has been going hard tonight: espresso martinis and rum-punch shots at dinner, gin and tonics at the bar. It's my birthday, and at one point he grabs my phone, takes a selfie of us and posts to my Instagram, writing "It's my birthday bitches #london #hashtag #believe #achieve #inspiration." He encourages friends to knock back pints with a drinking song that ends "Na na na na/Hey hey hey/You're a cunt!"

Soon, we arrive at his house, a five-floor, industrial-style space with brick walls, wood floors and several personal touches: a Charmander Pokémon stuffed animal in his bedroom and a bong shaped like Benny Blanco's head in the living room. There's also a recording studio, a gym and a full bar, where he recently entertained several young cast members of his favorite show, Game of Thrones. As we arrive, Sheeran offers bedrooms to anyone who wants to "get rowdy," then goes to work mixing drinks.

With the possible exception of Justin Bieber, Sheeran is the biggest male pop star alive. But pop-machine refinement is something he resists full force. His life is a chaotic blur of too much pub food, 3 a.m. pool games, shots at dinner and impulsive decisions: "If you ever need a wedding band . . ." he says shortly after we meet and he learns I have a girlfriend. "I always say, 'It's free if I'm free.' As long as you sort me out with a lot of booze and a bed, I'm there." (During our time together, I will meet at least three friends whose weddings he has played.) He is filterless. "Powerful shit upstairs, man. Who did that?" he asks after emerging from the bathroom tonight, until a friend cops to it.

As his fame increases, holding on to a semblance of normalcy is important for Sheeran. He's been hanging out with old friends a lot; he even wrote about them in his new single "Castle on the Hill," a tribute to their rebellious high school days in Suffolk, England.

Around 4 a.m., Sheeran runs upstairs to grab his guitar and then takes a seat at the kitchen table. He proceeds to play for two hours straight – a gig considerably more intimate than the stadium shows he plays all by himself, backed only with an acoustic guitar and a loop pedal. Tonight he plays songs from ÷, as well as several unreleased tunes he says are planned for future albums. He takes requests, too – including "Love Yourself," the Number One hit he wrote with Justin Bieber. "You know 'Love Yourself' is originally 'Fuck Yourself,' right?" he jokes before playing that version.

This is Sheeran's gift in a nutshell: He's a mix of old-school troubadour and Top 40 technician, a guy who could kill it at a coffeehouse open-mic night but is also one of the most pop-savvy songwriters alive. (He also raps surprisingly well.) His crowds are mostly teenage girls, but Sheeran is craftsman enough to impress someone like Elton John, who signed him to his management company in 2011. "He can write melodies so simply," says Elton, who points to "Thinking Out Loud," which won a Grammy in 2016 for Song of the Year. "Van Morrison would have been very proud to write that. He reminds me of me when I first came to America, in 1970. It was all systems go. Nothing was impossible. The unfortunate thing is, now, everyone sounds like Ed Sheeran: Shawn Mendes, Justin Bieber.  . . ."

"Sorry, I'm a bit drunk," Sheeran says after flubbing a line to a new track. He stops to roll a cigarette and heat up a pizza. Then he sits down and plays "Perfect," a fingerpicked waltz from ÷. Like most of songs he writes these days, it's about Cherry, whom he's known since high school and reconnected with at an after-show party in New York. They kept their relationship secret for a full year, until Taylor Swift invited them to her Fourth of July party in Rhode Island and a friend Instagrammed a picture of a banner celebrating their one-year anniversary.

"I found a love to carry more than just my secrets," Sheeran sings. "I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight."

"My tear glands are just throbbing," says Catherine.

"Let me think of another tear-jerker," Sheeran says.

"Please don't!" she says.

He gets up and makes another gin and tonic. "Everyone cool? I am very cool."

Around six, it's time for bed.

Early last year, Sheeran and Cherry were touring a volcano in Iceland, when Sheeran ignored a guide's directions to not stray from a path. As he approached a bubbling geyser, the thin crust of earth started to collapse beneath him, sending both feet into nearly 200-degree water. It was the first time Cherry had heard him scream. She ripped one of his socks off, taking his skin with it. "I still have post-traumatic stress over it," she says. He had to be airlifted to a hospital.

The couple could have headed home – instead, they pushed on with a trip that lasted six months. Sheeran, it turned out, really needed to get away from being a pop star for a while.

Sheeran's default mood is relentlessly upbeat. But he admits that every now and then he "spirals." This happened in 2013, when he scored an opening gig for Taylor Swift and moved to Nashville, where the tour was based. "I was on the most amazing fucking tour in the world," he says. "I was just living in a country that I didn't belong in, in a town I didn't really know anyone."

He began to drink – a lot. His frequent songwriting partner Johnny McDaid was worried about Sheeran when he saw him at a show in Hollywood in 2015. "He was just go, go, go," McDaid says. "I sat him down and said, 'Look, man, please have all the fun in the world. But be careful because if that elastic snaps, it could take a long time to recover from it.' "

A single Twitter comment could ruin his day: "Everyone online was saying, 'Ed's going bald.' And I'm not. But I convinced myself that I was. Ginger hair is just very fair – my hair is completely fine. I was also quite big at the time," he adds, referring to his weight, "so I kind of got a complex about two things I would have never given a fuck about."

He also lost some friends. "The Forbes list actually fucked it up," he says, referring to a report in the magazine indicating he made $57 million in 2015. "I was getting texts from people with pictures of cars going, 'I'd like this for my birthday, please. This one's only .06 percent of your annual income.'" (He ended up ditching his phone; he uses an iPad to communicate and a flip phone for close family.)

So after attending the Grammys last year and winning Song of the Year, Sheeran skipped the afterparties and boarded a plane to Iceland. Once his foot had healed, the couple traveled around rural Japan for a month, from Hokkaido to Okinawa, where he was able to walk around in anonymity, "eat weird food, soak in the hot springs and ski."

Sheeran stopped smoking and cut way back on drinking. In June, he spent three weeks in Ghana at the invitation of Ghanaian-English singer Fuse ODG. Working in Fuse's house, he started writing African-influenced music. "Anytime we made a song, they would throw a party for the song," he says. "He would invite 200-plus people 'round, and we would just party to that song until the early hours."

Only one of those songs, "Bibia Be Ye Ye," appears on ÷, but the freedom Sheeran felt on his journey lingered. While Sheeran's last album, x, featured bitter takedowns of exes, ÷ has songs like "Happier," which he wrote after a wedding, when he ran into his ex and her boyfriend, whom Sheeran had always held a grudge against. "He was really sound," says Sheeran. "I thought, 'Of course, this is what's meant to happen.'"

Elton says Sheeran's travels "refreshed his soul." "I've noticed, in the last few months, he knows it's going to be all right," says McDaid. "He knows that he's done a pretty amazing thing again. I think he reconnected to his friends and family, and he feels anchored."

It's 11 the morning after Sheeran's impromptu living-room concert. Rain patters on the windows of his guest room, revealing a gray sky. Only five hours have passed since he called it a night, but he can be found downstairs in his gym, shirtless, in the middle of his daily 10-minute elliptical workout. "Just sweating it out!" he says.

His studio is across the hallway. Sheeran asks everyone who visits to sign its walls. Signatures include Rick Rubin, Harry Styles and Benny Blanco, and a drawing by Damien Hirst, one of his favorite artists. One wall is bare, except for a single name. "That's Clapton," says Sheeran with a grin. "Elton's coming next week and Cherry's cooking, so I'm going to do a legends wall."

Sheeran and Clapton first started talking over e-mail. Clapton invited him onstage in Japan last year and sometimes comes over for dinner. Sheeran isn't a favorite with critics, but, he says, "I could give a fuck about what people think. Anytime anyone has a problem with me, I'm just like, 'My heroes like me. The people I started music for are fans of my music. So why the fuck would I care about what anyone else thinks?' "

We head to lunch at a nearby pub, where Sheeran promptly orders a round of his hometown ale Adnams: "I love drinking really thick ale in January." He talks about growing up in Suffolk, where he was made fun of for being bad at sports, for his red hair – and, most of all, for his stutter: "You'd put your hand up and not be able to speak. And kids are cruel. So once that would happen, someone would imitate it. And then you'd be like, 'I'm not going to put my hand up next time.' " He credits rapping along with Eminem's Marshall Mathers LP for helping him lose the stammer.

His parents were curators for art galleries, putting together exhibitions and lecturing around town. His dad taught him to be tough. "He grew up with a harelip," he says. "And he said, 'Anytime anyone picks on you, hit him as hard as you can and they will never rip into you again.' " His father still doesn't take any shit: Sheeran tells a story about him lighting a cigarette at a recent Warner Bros. party. "Someone said, 'Sir, you can't smoke here.' And he said, 'I am Mr. Warner,' and they left him alone." His mom is the opposite. "She is literally an angel," says Sheeran.

Though his dad suggested fighting to deal with his problems, Sheeran preferred humor. "Most ginger-haired people I know are very outgoing and comedic," he says. "They basically say the joke before you can. Like, my first album is orange. There's a reason it's orange – I'm getting there before you can." He thinks those days have a lot to do with his career choice: "The whole musician thing kind of comes from wanting to be loved and wanting to be liked."

Sheeran dropped out of school in 2007, when he was 16, and moved to London. He started performing, striking out at guitar open mics but finding an audience at hip-hop clubs, comedy shows and jazz open mics. "Anywhere it's not the norm to have a singer-songwriter be there, I instantly stood out," he recalls.

In 2010, Ben Cook, the head of Asylum Records, saw a clip of Sheeran online. Cook went to check out several shows – including one in Southampton, England, where Sheeran stood on a chair in the middle of the audience and played unplugged. "He was rapping," Cook says, "so the guys were trying to keep up with him, and then there was the really romantic stuff the girls were responding to." Cook signed him soon after.

Sheeran's first big U.S. tour was supporting Snow Patrol in 2012, around the time his first single, "The A Team" – a ballad about a crack-addicted prostitute he met at a homeless shelter – was blowing up. "In Orlando, there were, like, 200 people in the front row to see Ed," says McDaid, Snow Patrol's guitarist. "By the middle of the tour, there were about 2,000. You could see it happening in front of you."

His next tour was considerably bigger: a 66-date run opening for Swift. "I heard his song 'Lego House' in Australia when I was on the Speak Now tour," says Swift. "It just cut through everything else." Their managers put them together, and they ended up sitting on a trampoline in Swift's backyard and writing "Everything Has Changed." Each night, Swift invited Sheeran onstage to play the ballad.

Offstage, this was his most romantically prolific period. He says he hooked up with some of Swift's famous friends. "Taylor's world is celebrity," says Sheeran. "I was this 22-year-old awkward British kid going on tour with the biggest artist in America, who has all these famous mates. It was very easy. … I would often find myself in situations just kind of waking up and looking over and being like, 'How the fuck did that happen?' " (Katy Perry recently summed up his appeal as a secret ladies' man: "Everybody loves him, no one's scared of him, they want to date him. They can have him.")

Sheeran chronicled some of these relationships on his second album, 2014's x. He wrote "Don't" about a fling with a fellow pop star that ends when he learns she's had sex with a friend who was staying on the same hotel floor. Many speculated it was Ellie Goulding, who afterward released "On My Mind," which included the burn "You wanted my heart, but I just liked your tattoos." Goulding has denied having ever been involved with Sheeran.

One person he did not date on the tour was Swift, despite TMZ headlines. "I found that aspect quite lazy journalism," he says. "There wasn't any truth to it whatsoever."

Sheeran and Swift see each other only once or twice a year, but they still feel close to each other. "We've gotten matching Scottish folds, made each other arts and crafts Christmas presents, vacationed with our families, and had each other's backs," says Swift. "He is the James Taylor to my Carole King and I can't imagine a time when he wouldn't be." He imagines them doing a stadium tour where they trade songs for an evening, much like the one Jay Z and Justin Timberlake did a few years ago. "She would be there if everything ended for me," Sheeran says. "Taylor is kind of an anomaly in that sense." He's been annoyed at the backlash against her lately: "She's omnipresent because she's the most famous woman in the world, so she can't make the decision to not be in the press. I always stick up for Taylor."

Most weekends when he's not on tour, you can find Sheeran watching field hockey. Cherry played for Duke until 2014. She moved to London last year with Sheeran, and signed a contract to play for Wimbledon Hockey Club (field hockey is a big deal in England). During the week, she works as a financial consultant. "She's the nicest girl you'll ever meet, but on the field she's a fucking animal," he says proudly.

At Oxford Hawks Hockey Club one Saturday, Sheeran takes his spot against a fence to watch the first game of the season, chatting with a few parents. ("Are you up to anything musical?" one asks.)

Cherry, number 17, rushes over to him, and they kiss, and do their sort of secret handshake. For their first date, he took her to see him accept an award at an American Institute for Stuttering gala – "It was quite an upsetting event," Sheeran says, "because there are lots of kids that just can't get their words out." The second date was a birthday party for Adele's manager. Sheeran "tested" Cherry by leaving her alone for a few hours. "One of the main points of being in a relationship with me," he says, "you have to be really fucking sociable and good at talking to people, because I will be dragged away loads at parties and events. And Cherry's perfect at it. She makes friends with everyone."

After the match, Sheeran is driven to the team clubhouse. He grabs a tray and fixes himself a potato with beans and cheese, giving a big thumbs-up as he chews. He's about halfway done when several more teams pour into the room: high school girls. Several cliques of them inch toward his table. The whole room seems to be wondering why, exactly, Ed Sheeran is here. "I'm gonna need to get out of here," he says. "I'm getting filmed a lot." He pulls his cap down and walks out, head down, and makes his way out unscathed. "I just realized that was an entire school – all the sports teams," Sheeran says back in the car. "Not ideal."

This kind of attention freaks Sheeran out a little, and lately he's been dealing with even weirder invasions of his privacy. Not long ago, a police officer pulled him over and asked for a selfie. Sheeran recently found a drone in his garden. He's "100 percent" sure that someone on his 40-person team is selling information to the press. "I just want to know who it is," he says. The worst part is getting stared at: "People film on the sly – I get really fucking anxious." And one way he deals with that anxiety is drinking.

"Do you have any white tequila?" Sheeran asks a waiter at a New York restaurant. "Not Patrón, though." Yes, they do. "Five shots of that, and one shot of passion-fruit juice, please. Put the tequila on ice, and then let it sit for a bit. And then pour it over ice into the juice, then shake it." The waiter at New York's ABC Kitchen gets on the case: They do not carry passion-fruit juice, but a store nearby does have it, and someone has been sent out.

Since I saw him in London three weeks ago, Sheeran has been on a promo tour, visiting England, Norway, Germany, France, Asia and Australia, where he stayed at Russell Crowe's house. "He has his own pub," Sheeran says. "I was so fucking off my chops, and I didn't realize he'd drank a bottle of gin and was off his chops as well." There was a minor crisis around 8 a.m., when everyone realized Sheeran had wandered off to bed and ended up in a grassy area riddled with deadly snakes. Cherry feared another Iceland-like debacle. "He was stumbling into the grass, falling into the bushes," she says.

Sheeran escaped unharmed, but there are a lot of stories like this. In Nashville, in 2013, he was pretending to play drums with two beer bottles at 4 a.m., the night before an arena gig. He struck the table and ended up with a big piece of glass inside his right hand. He missed a nerve by a millimeter.

Then there's the scar. Sheeran was recently attending a party thrown by Princess Beatrice at the Royal Lodge, near Windsor Castle, when he started messing around with ceremonial swords. The story changes often – some say it was Beatrice herself; Sheeran says it was singer James Blunt – but someone slashed Sheeran's right cheek. "He went to the hospital and came back ready to party with stitches on," says a friend. "And everyone was asleep. He was like, 'What the fuck? I bled for this party and you're all asleep?'"

"He can be extremely naughty. It's a good thing he didn't appear in the same era as I did, otherwise we'd be up for three weeks together," says Elton, who has been sober for almost 30 years. "He's not a big druggy, but he likes a drink. He's a lot of fun."

The five-shot tequila drinks arrive. Sheeran gulps one down and requests another. He talks about going to Tokyo, where he met up with Bieber. They did karaoke and shot pool in a dive bar. "He's in a very good place – very sober, very present," Sheeran says. "There's been a 180 that's happened, and there's no diva behavior whatsoever. It really suits him."

Does Sheeran think he drinks too much? "Often, I'm like, 'Is it bad that I drink almost every single day?' And then I look at my friends and most of them do the same. And they're actually worse than me. The first thing Americans say is, 'There's a problem, and you need to go to rehab.' But I don't wake up and drink. I don't depend on drink. I can go without it completely. I just enjoy going out and having fun, being 25. And I think that's a normal thing."

In his dressing room at Saturday Night Live two days later, Sheeran looks over the walls of the greenroom, which are full of pictures of past musical guests: Kanye West, Paul McCartney, Sheeran himself. "I look like a fucking gimp," he says, remarking on a press shot where he's leaning forward with a serious face. Soon, a live feed of the show's dress rehearsal comes on. He cackles at Melissa McCarthy's Sean Spicer impression – "Fucking hell!" he says – and host Alec Baldwin's monologue.

He talks about the future. He's in the process of auditioning members of a boy band he's creating. He's already written lots of songs for the group – "really, really decent. Superpop, but obviously credible. I'm gonna put three or four boys together and do all the songs, take them on the stadium tour with me."

Sheeran's ÷ tour will take him across the world – arenas this year, stadiums next year – before wrapping up by early 2019. He's edging toward his ultimate goal: "I want to do stadiums everywhere," he says. "Like George Strait's level – he tours every four years, does a couple of stadiums and then fucks off again." Sheeran also plans to star in a low-budget film, like Once, featuring his own acoustic soundtrack. "I want to have one in my career," he says.

He's showing a member of his team the "cash me outside" meme when his pal Zach Braff blasts into the greenroom, along with his date. "There's nothing more fun than being at SNL – I'm so geeked out," he tells Sheeran. "This is like you at a Star Wars convention."

Sheeran starts busting his balls, pointing at Braff's backstage pass: "Why does it have that on it, though – 'Talent'?"

"You motherfucker," Braff says. "You're supposed to be my wingman."

Sheeran heads straight from the greenroom to the stage to perform "Shape of You," not bothering to do any sort of vocal warm-ups. Later, he's on his way to do his second song, "Castle on the Hill," when he and Cherry run into Tracy Morgan. The comedian steers the conversation from The Empire Strikes Back to The Godfather to Michael Jackson. "Michael was music," Morgan says. "With every fiber of his fuckin' soul. The problem with Michael was that he peaked too soon. Listen to 'ABC.' He was eight years old when he did that! And once you peak, there's nowhere to go."

"You're scaring me!" Sheeran says with a laugh. Morgan replies that Sheeran has nothing to worry about: "He's good. He's grounded. He's got a woman right there. He's gonna have a wife and family, and he's gonna be fucking happy."

The scene becomes more surreal when Baldwin approaches them in full Trump getup. All week, Sheeran has been admiring Baldwin's two babies. "Whenever anyone brings babies around, I'm like, 'We gotta get on that,' " says Sheeran.

After the show, Sheeran has to catch a plane to make a 9 a.m. soundcheck for the Grammys. "You'll be fine," says Morgan. "Get some sleep on the jet." Baldwin asks about his tour plans: "Whatever you do, you're young, you're so talented. You guys are gonna have a baby. Just have it on your private plane."

"Tour-bus babies!" says Cherry.

What Sheeran is really looking forward to is his 26th birthday next week, which he and Cherry will spend in the Austrian Alps. "It's awesome meeting famous people," Sheeran says. "But that's not life. That's not reality. One day this will fucking end. And I know the one person that's going to remain constant is Cherry. I should just enjoy this while it's there, but not let it become my reality. Because that's not the reality I want to live in."

[freckledandfighting-blog]

Hamilsquad x Reader Chapter 1.

Hello hello hello! Guess what, its me. And I’m containing myself from singing the rest of ‘Hello’ from Adele. So chapter 1 is up, please comment, ask questions request because I get bored sometimes all the time.

Warnings: Horrible editing, I’m on my phone posting from a roller coaster. Also swearing, always swearing.

2:09 pm.

It had been eleven days since you had told your boys. The week was spent with everyone packing, Alex repeating your family’s names under his breath, Laf trying to perfect his English, and Mr. Washington practically forcing your boyfriends to take a break. Alexander had enough unused sick days and vacations for all of you.

Angelica gave you the week off as soon as you said yes to her promotion.

“Yes. Definitely. You are going, that is final.”

“Yes, Angel, thank you so much for your input, I wouldn’t have gone without your permission.” You said sarcastically. She shoved you with her elbow and swiftly pushed you out the door so you could actually do your job.

“Don’t forget you have to start interviewing people eventually!” She called to you from her office.

3:09 pm.

“How much sunscreen do I need to take?” John asked you, sitting on his suitcase, which was overloaded with his bathing suits and art supply.

It was Thursday afternoon and you and your boyfriends were spending your last day before leaving perfecting your packing. You were leaving on Friday after Alex, John and Laf’s coffee run, they were given an extra day off. Hercules was leaving Cato with the shop for the break and Angelica said if you came to work that day, she would call security.

“I mean, I’m sure we have some at the house.. maybe a bit if you want it.” You said nonchalantly, checking your passport.

“I don’t need anymore freckles.” You looked up. John was shirtless, debating between two shirts. Freckles were dappled across his shoulders, down his back, a few on his toned chest.

“I like your freckles.” You tilted your head, clearly checking out your boyfriend. He turned around, a mischievous grin spread over his face.

“What are you-” you were scooped up and thrown on the bed. He attacked you with kisses, tickling your sides, making you squeal a protest.

He responded with more playful kisses across your collarbone. You squirmed under his grip, but not really trying.

“Lemme go!” You whined, pushing your hands up against his shoulders. “Johnny!”

He didn’t let go, but he stopped tickling you and just rested his head in the crook of your neck. You sighed, shifting under him, getting as comfortable as possible with your boyfriend collapsed atop you.

Well.. as possible you can get with another human on you.

It was these little moments that really made you fall in love. Cuddling, curling up and watching Stranger Things, buying ice cream, dancing on the sidewalk.. the list could go on forever. It was the simple seconds you spent with your partners that made you fall more in love with them anymore.

“Y/N-” Alex started, then froze when he walked into the room, seeing the two of you. “Aww!”

You grumbled halfheartedly, not really making an effort to complain. You were cozy, using John as a personal heated blanket, and you were not moving. He nuzzled his forehead on your collarbone, humming slightly. You could feel him nibbling lightly on your neck.

“Laffy! Herc! Look they’re being adorable!” He yelled, leaning his head out the doorway, alerting the other two.

“Shuddup Alex.” You said into John’s shoulder. “Alexandre, couldn’t it wait-” Lafayette opened his mouth making an inaudible coo. “You look so cute, Mon Petits.”

John lifted his head, a satisfied grin across his face. You narrowed your eyes, confused of his wicked smile. “What did you do..” You said accusingly.

“Johnathan Laurens!” Hercules scolded, shoving him off of you. You jumped up, running to the bathroom. He definitely did something.

“Fucking hell!” You yelled, throwing your arms into the air. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

John had left a large red hickey on your neck.

“Oops!” He called from the bedroom. You could actually hear the cheeky grin on his face. “My bad!”

“We’re meeting her parents in less than forty-eight hours! No kisses!” Alex instructed, crossing his arms. Alex was 5'6 he wasn’t tall, he had a slim figure, he was far from threatening.

“But Alex!” John whined loudly. “She’s so kissable!”

You rolled your eyes. “So are the rest of them.” You gestured to your other partners.

“Tell us more about your family.” Hercules wrapped his arms around you, hugging you from behind. You smiled, kissing his shoulder.

“What do you want to know?”

“Chase, Lucas, Oliver, Charlie, Percy, Scott, Tyler, Dylan, Theo, Mason, Roy, Conner, Cory, Liam, Benny.. I’m forgetting someone!” Alex wailed, collapsing dramatically on the bed. “But don’t tell me! I have to figure this out.”

You smirked, knowing instantly who he was missing.

“Fifteen.. who’s the sixteenth?” He murmured, hitting his head with a pillow.

“Alex, Honey, relax.” John soothed, shoving a pair of flip flops into his suitcase. “They aren’t going to freak if we don’t know all of their names.” He turned toward you, his eyes wide. “They won’t freak if we don’t know all of their names, will they?”

“They are much more worried about getting Laf’s right.” You laughed, winking at the Frenchmen.

“Many have tried, few have succeeded.” He chuckled, blowing you a kiss.

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette.” You answered, shuffling around with Hercules still attached to you. “Eleven words.. my mom has more kids than that, she’ll manage.”

“Who am I missing!” Alex succumbed to help. “Fifteen.. who am I forgetting!”

“Our favorite.” Hercules kissed you head, his laugh vibrated against your back.

“Who?” Alex said desperately.

“Me.” You grinned, a teasing smile on your face. He mouth ‘o’ before sighing in relief.

“Chase, Lucas, Oliver, Charlie, Percy, Scott, Tyler, Dylan, Theo, Mason, Roy, Conner, Cory, Liam, Benny and Y/N.” He breathed, closing his eyes. “Thank god.”

“It worries me you forgot the name of our girlfriend who’s family we’re visiting.” John threw a pillow at Alexander’s head.

“Tell me stories of little Y/N!” Herc pouted. You huffed.

“I fended for myself at the dinner table, earned the eldest’s respect, in my household, it’s eat or be eaten.” You joked, a serious expression on your face. “I doubt you guys’ll survive dinner unless we eat out.”

“I don’t think I like this story.”

“I’m joking.. sort of. You’ll probably like my siblings.. Probably.” You hummed.

“Story Time!” Alex yelled, clapping hysterically like a seal. You groaned, throwing John a shirt from your suitcase.

“Tyler, Dylan, Theo, Mason, Roy, the twins, Liam, and Benny are the ones you really have to worry about.” You tilted you head, thinking about it. “They pull the most pranks, since they’re the youngest.”

“Only like half of your brothers.” Herc commented, earning your glare.

“Chase through Scott are okay. They’ll be more interested in making fun of me. And Lucas is going to be the most sane because of his kids.” You turned back to the four of them, narrowing your eyes.

“Don’t you have packing to do?” You asked, putting a pair of shoes in your bag. “We aren’t coming back for a week.”

���I’ll pack tomorrow.” Alex procrastinated in nothing but if had something to do with clothing, he wouldn’t even think about it.

“Alexandre we’re leaving tomorrow.” Laf’s inner mother hen was coming out. “Go pack.” He ordered, shoving the smaller man off his lap.

Alex simply responded with a loud screech.

“Alexander Hamilton do not make me go call Angelica!” You spun around, making him go silent and freeze.

Angelica Schuyler was the by far the level-headed, most impowering woman you had ever met.. Unless one of your boyfriends was acting up. Hercules and Lafayette were smart, they knew about Angelica’s signature ear grabbing, John and Alex on the other hand weren’t as careful. They often forgot she was there and start leaving hickeys and pinching each other. In simplest form:

Angelica did not like that.

“I’m good, I’ll go pack.” He squeaked, tripping as he sprung off the bed and out of the room.

“Well that’s one way to get things done.” Hercules held in a laugh watching Alexander stumble around.

“'Ow you say ‘whipped’.” Laf said, zipping John’s finally packed suitcase.

“The Angelica Card always works.”

7:02 am.

“It’s too early!” John whined, rubbing his eyes.

“Suck it up, Buttercup.” You pressed you lips to his temple. “You can sleep through the flight, it’s going to be about two hours till we land.”

You were sitting in between Hercules, who had the isle seat, and John who was by the window. Alex and Lafayette were behind you and John talking quickly in French. You only caught a few words, hearing your parents’ names as well as your own and your siblings.

“No! Sleep is for the weak..” He quickly lowered his voice, remembering he was on an airplane. “Oops.” John’s outburst was greeted with many ‘shh’s.

“Fine, but the ride to the lake is another two hours, so you better sleep then.” You reminded him, fiddling with your earbuds. “My family is going to be exhausting.”

“Maybe you should be the one sleeping, Princess.” Hercules chuckled, lacing his fingers with yours. “You seemed more stressed than Alex.”

“HEY!”

“SHH!”

“Yeah, Alex.” You teased, looking back at him and Lafayette.

9:34 am.

“You don’t know true power until you’ve had six three-hour energy drinks and a large cup of coffee with four shots of espresso.” Alexander was bouncing up and down, sitting on the baggage cart that was filled with your many suitcases.

“Never again..” Hercules murmured, rubbing his forehead.

“I’m banning Alex from Starbucks for the week.” You sighed, watching him let out a squeal of glee as Laf pushed the cart.

“He will die without coffee.” John commented. He hadn’t taken your advice and spent the entire flight playing flappy bird. He was mostly leaning on you for support.

You clicked you tongue against the roof of your mouth. “Without Starbucks no, he’ll just suffer, my mom makes an amazing coffee-caramel ice cream that no one can miss out on.”

“Sugaarr..” John moaned, banging his head against your shoulder. You laughed, kissing his forehead.

“ALEXANDER HAMILTON!” Lafayette yelled, running after Alex who was riding the cart down the slope of the parting lot. Laf must of let go of the cart at some point which was definitely not a good idea.

“That ended badly when Cory and Conner did that.” You remembered the stitches and the broken nose they received after the incident.

“Aww!”

You silently thanked Laf for catching him.

“You’re no fun!” He whined as he was scooped off the cart. “That was entertaining!”

“Ne discutez pas avec moi, Alexandre.” Lafayette threw his boyfriend over his shoulder and continued to push the luggage.

“That’s the car.” Hercules pointed to the black Chevrolet that’s lights were blinking.

“It’s like an FBI car!“John exclaimed excitedly, dragging you toward it. “It’s so shiny!”

“I’m surrounded by children.” Herc mumbled, face-palming.

“Alright, alright.” You ‘shh'ed your boyfriends. “John you aren’t driving, you are sleeping the entire drive.” You instructed, opening the backseat door. “In.”

He raised his hands in surrender, entering the car.

“Alex no way in hell are you driving, you’ve consumed way too much caffeine.” Laf was facing the opposite direction so you could talk to Alex, who was still being carried.

“I take offense to that!” He crossed his arms. You raised an eyebrow, seeing if he wanted to argue with you, which he didn’t. Alex quickly was put down and he retreated to the car.

“I’ll drive if you put the address in, Princess.” Hercules said, shoving the last of the suitcases into the trunk. “I don’t mind.”

“Thank god because I will get road rage and I will yell.” You sighed in relief, quickly kissing him and Laf on the lips.

“Mon Amour, we know, that’s why he offered.” Lafayette grinned, helping you in the car next to Alex, John was already falling asleep on his boyfriend’s lap.

“Fair enough.” You yawned, buckling your seat. You have Herc your address, feeling your eyes lids grow heavy.

11:24 am.

“Hey, Babygirl.” John lightly cupped his hands together, waking you. His voice was nervous. “Time to get up, little one.” You yawned, reaching you arms out as you stretched.

“What’d I miss?” You sat up, arching you back.

“I followed the GPS to the address.” Herc said from the drivers seat. “But I might of taken a wrong turn, because there’s nothing here.” You looked outside.

The car was on a familiar gravel road. Willow trees were hanging over, the swaying leaves hitting to car lightly.

“You did perfect, I can get us there from here.”

“I’m not complaining.” Alex said from above you. He had climbed through the sunroof and was sitting atop of the car. “It’s nice out here, really quiet.” You smiled, glad he was actually relaxing.

“Mon amour, do you mind driving? I think our Hercules needs a break.” Laf kissed Herc’s forehead. He did look tired, you nodded.

“It’s probably best I get us there anyway.” You opened the door, stepping out. The air was fresh, and warm due to the sun. It was different that New York, not filled with different smells, just the clear scent of summer.

Sunshine. A soft breeze. Wildflowers.

“Thank you.” Herc said sleepily, getting out of the drivers seat.

“It’ll be another thirty minutes till we get there, sleep.” You instructed him, kissing his cheek. “Alex, you should probably get back inside.” Alex did not get back inside.

“Honey come back in the car.” John whined, tugging on his boyfriend’s foot.

“But it’s nice up here.” He protested.

"Alexandre.” Laf said in a gentle, but warning tone. Alex panicked and jumped back in the car. Lafayette did have that effect on people.

The rest of the drive was quiet, Alex head was out the window, Herc was using John as a pillow, Laf was placing small kisses across the back of your hand and wrists.

You parked the stone pathway, that winded along the lake. The house wasn’t yet visible, shielded by the gardens around it. You could see some of your siblings on the docks, who were noticing the new car pulling up.

“Uh,” you clasped your hands together, gaining your boyfriends’ attention. You sent an apologetic look on your face towards Hercules since he was sleeping. “I want you guys to know.. my family has a different amount of money than most families.”

“We don’t care how much money your family has, Mon amour.” Laf pressed his lips to your fist. “We love you, and we’ll love your family.” You inhaled.

“Okay, and I’m just forewarning you on this one, their sort of crazy.”

“Don’t stall, Babygirl.” John teased.

"Oh my god! We can go swimming! Is that a speedboat?” Alex was bouncing up and down in his seat.

“Y/N!” Your brothers waved frantically from the docks.

“We could turn back now.. They aren’t very athletic.” You said, opening the door and stepping out of the car. The warm sun hitting your skin instantly.

You pulled out a familiar red whistle from your pocket.

“Is that a rape whistle?” Alex asked, popping his head out from the sunroof once again. You laughed, shaking your head.

“You’ll see.”

“That’s another boat? Do you own that one? What about that big floaty thing? Do you own that too? How about the-”

You pressed the whistle to your lips, blowing as hard on it as possible.

“HOLY FUCK!” John covered his ears, then looked around frantically, as if he was being watched. “I probably shouldn’t have said that around here.”

“That should summon them.” You put the whistle back in your jean pocket. “There’ll be a stampede in the house, so I think she should leave our bags here for now. If your ready to meet a family from your nightmares, right this way.”

“I really do hope your lying.” Laf blinked, watching your brothers that were on the docks dash into the house.

“This fountain is bigger than our kitchen.” Hercules stared in awe of the marble fountain.

“Screw the fountain!” Alex said, wildly gesturing back and forth from the fountain to the docks. “That speed boat is bigger than our entire apartment!”

“Is that a horse?”

“Moving this way.” You said, trying to change to conversation. You lead them down another gravel path that lead to your house. “You’ll probably sleep in my room, my bed is big enough.” You informed them.“

“Can we go swimming?”

Alex was probably the most excited about being on the lake. He was from the Virgin Islands and New York didn’t have the cleanest waters so he had to stick with pools. He was thrilled to be near the water and you could already picture the red sunburn he was going to receive after not wearing sunscreen.

“Yes, we can go swimming.”

“But the horses-”

“We can do that later.” You stared at the gardens that surrounded half of the house in a semicircle.

You grew up with a wealthy family. Your parents made a lot of money. They also wanted a big family. They exceeded the ‘normal’ amount of children by having thirteen more kids.

“Chase, Lucas, Oliver, Charlie, Percy, Scott, Tyler, Dylan, Theo, Mason, Roy, Conner, Cory, Liam, Benny and Y/N.” Alex murmured again, kicking rocks under his foot.

“Scarlett, McKenna, Diana, and Marco.” John added, taking his boyfriend’s hand. “And then William, Hunter, Zara, Kylie, Owen, and Lydia.”

“Jemma and Stephen are your parents.” Laf finished.

“Why thank you, now I know all of my family member’s names.” You said sarcastically but a large grin was spread across your face.

You were happy, this was your childhood home. You grew up going to this house every summer. And this week, you got to not only share it with your family but your boyfriends as well.

You stepped up to the front door, turning back to your boyfriends. You inhaled once more, telling yourself to relax.

You smiled at your partners. “Welcome to hell.”

Okay thank god I finished this today. I will definitely update next week. I hope you enjoyed and honestly I’m super jumpy right now and sorta bored now that I’m posting this because it’s only been two hours and thirty minutes since I got in the 'Space Mountain’ ride at DisneyWorld. Okay *inhale* thank you for reading.