#need to explain away Why I am washing a plane with soap and water

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

Much like humans generating their bodily fluids and oils on their own, I headcanon cybertronians do not require external lubricants for their moving parts. Their bodies will generate all the grease and oil and other things they require. They can still choose to use these though. The way humans would use lotion on their dry skin. Also polish. Gotta keep themselves shiny. (This one’s for you, Knock Out)

[eeksburner]

Home

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: We see just how much Simon loves being home

(Note: Sorry for being inactive, my Rami Malek obsession has grown, so I've been spending my time rifling through old blogs and fics from 2019 or older to find all the Merriell Shelton/Elliot Alderson fics that I can get my greedy hands on. I am posting this to feed you all, I can't let you guys starve. Finals week is approaching, so please don't hate me for not writing a lot these next couple of weeks. Thanks y'all!)

Not proofread

Sure, Simon gets to shower before he boards the plane to get back home, but it's not the same. The shower is too tight, and the shower head is too low. The water pressure is weak and stays at an uncomfortable lukewarm temperature. The little bar of soap he is given is barely enough for him to hold onto properly, and smells of dusty baby powder.

Once he is finally home, he can really enjoy himself. Not when he is back in the UK, not when he is back in town, not when he is back in his own truck, but when he is home. The place you selected and decorated just for the two of you. Where his favorite color is accented through the house, where you use the candles you know he likes, where his clothes are perfectly folded on the bathroom counter, where he is seen and loved.

It confused you at first. Simon would come home and spend time with you, but once it came time for bed, he would take a 30-minute shower despite being as clean as a whistle. Your curiosity became too much, so you asked why. He explained that showering at home is one of his biggest pleasures he gets after being away from the house.

Simon turns the shower on. He likes the water hot. It makes him feel cleaner, and he likes how it steams up the bathroom. Hot water isn't a luxury he can indulge in out in the field, so he enjoys it when he can. He sits a lavender and eucalyptus shower steamer at the bottom of the shower. His soft sweatpants, old teeshirt, and fuzzy socks sit on the counter along with the fluffiest towel in the house. You wash those with a specific soap and dryer sheets to make them smell like lavender. Once Simon is ready, he steps into the shower, his head hanging down, letting the water envelop him like a warm hug. He lets the smell of the shower steamer help clear his sinuses and relax him.

He sits under the water for a few minutes before starting his routine. Simon grabs his favorite shampoo. It's an expensive brand that can only be bought online. It is very clean and cruelty-free. His hair never feels fully clean unless he uses that shampoo; it just cleans his scalp so good and makes his hair so soft. It smells masculine, but not obnoxiously. His fingers tend to his hairline and his scalp for a couple of minutes, letting the tension in his head decrease with every massage of his calloused fingers. He follows with the conditioner, the matching one to the shampoo. It makes his hair the shiniest and smoothest it could possibly be. He runs his fingers through his tresses and makes sure there aren't any tangles or loose hair that needs to fall out.

Once he finishes his hair, he goes for his washcloth. It has an exfoliating side that does so well at removing dead skin and making his skin soft. The body wash he uses is also expensive, but it has melatonin and lavender in it, which helps him to sleep afterwards, which can be pretty difficult given the things he has to deal with. He scrubs every part of his body at least 3 times, going over every spot to make sure he gets every last bit of physical and mental grossness off of himself. He sits under the water for another few minutes before he decides it's time to come out.

He steps out into the steamy bathroom, his feet sinking into the fluffy shower mat on the floor. He grabs the towel and runs it over his head a few times, mostly drying his face and hair. He then dries off his body, making sure every part of his skin is dry for his next step. Simon has a lotion he uses after he showers. It is unscented, but it works like a charm for rehydrating his skin. Once he is satisfied with how it's sunk into his skin, he gets dressed in his cozy outfit.

Simon steps up to the mirror and brushes his teeth, making sure to floss and use mouthwash. He washes his face with a gentle cleanser and follows with a gentle face lotion. Once he is as calm as he can be, he grabs his old clothes and leaves the bathroom, ready to cuddle in bed (after he sprays his pillows with a sleepytime spray).

(I know there's this idea that Simon doesn't care a lot about things like having a nice, fancy shower routine, but I feel like it's one of the things that helps calm his stormy mind and tense body. He doesn't mind splurging on one of his few pleasures. Sometimes he'll use your products to feel closer to you.)

Sure, Simon gets to eat food before and during his travels back home, but airline food is only good for about the first bite. Fast food usually isn't on his radar, but when he does eat it, all he can think about is how much better you could make it. If he's hungry, he's spending a majority of the time daydreaming about what you've made for his return home. People see his stoic, strong expression and assume he is thinking about very serious, private things. In reality, he's daydreaming about the pot roast you made last month, drooling a little bit at the thought.

Once you have greeted each other and he is settled, you two sit down at the table and eat whatever it is that you made for him. It's always a more complex meal, consisting of various techniques, food groups, and a lot of dishes.

Simon usually takes much longer to eat his first meal at home than at any other time. He relishes in the way your eyes flit to his face to gauge his reaction. Of course, it is always amazing, and he does a good job of telling you so. He savors every bite, asking questions about the ingredients, the process, etc. Simon makes sure to thank you; your meals give him life again after what he has to endure at work.

He also notices any small changes you make in the house. A new framed photo on the wall, a new throw blanket on the couch, different flowers in the front yard, etc. He loves coming home to see what you've changed or added and seeing your face light up when he mentions it.

Simon really does love being home.

[winnisome]

i’m okay.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: after spencer finds himself in a dangerous situation on a case, the reader is filled with anxiety and comforted by their dear boy.

song: moon song by phoebe bridgers

warnings: anxiety, brief mention of death, hostages, typical criminal minds content, they share a shower but there’s nothing sexual, ends in fluff :)))

a/n: my first spencer fic!!! i’m actually pretty proud of how this turned out so let me know if y’all like it :) also, this is just based on my personal experiences feeling anxious which can obviously be a different experience for everyone!

It was a split second, really. 

A split second that felt like an hour. It was as if the gunshot had hit a clock or something and made time slow down for that second, if that were possible. At the bang, your heart had jumped into your throat, restricting your breath. You could only hear your heartbeat as you stared into the deli that the unsub had taken hostage. Spencer had volunteered, against your protests, to go into the deli and try to talk him down from his two day spree. The unsub had retreated into the back of the deli, prohibiting your team from being able to see what was going on. Minutes later, the gunshot rang through the doors and with no way to know who had fired the shot, your mind assumed the worst. 

You were frozen, trying to decide whether to run in and see your dead boyfriend on the floor or stay back praying that he would walk out, perfectly fine. You weren’t breathing as the agents around you moved in slow motion towards the door. Before they got there, however, the deli door swung open and Spencer walked out, holding the hand of the young girl that the unsub had held hostage and yelling for a medic. 

Your feet seemed incapable of moving. Your eyes were trained on Spencer as he walked the girl over to her parents and accepted their gratitude. You watched as he glanced around looking for someone until his eyes landed on you. He walked over to you and you reached out to him, almost like you were making sure he was real. Enveloping you in his arms, he embraced you, your neck finding its place in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. Your hands tangled in his hair, reassuring yourself that he was alive. He wasn’t even hurt. He was fine. As always, Spencer read your racing heart and desperate clutch at his curls and whispered into your ear.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” You reluctantly pulled away from him, his hands lingering on your hips. 

“I know.” You said, with a half smile. But your heart was still pounding and you couldn’t seem to focus. Spencer wove his fingers into yours, squeezing your hand as the two of you walked towards one of the SUVs.

The jet ride back to Quantico seemed to defy time the same way the second after the gunshot had. You sat in silence the whole time, not letting go of Spencer’s hand. He glanced over to you every once in a while, but you were staring either out the window or at your lap. 

He was concerned and you were, honestly, confused. Spencer was fine. He had gotten out of the situation without so much as a scratch so why weren’t you flooded with relief? That’s what usually happened with anxiety like this. It was squashed after you were sure everyone was fine and relief washed over you like a nice blanket. And this had happened too many times for you to count. In fact, Spencer and you had been in much worse danger than this before. So why could you not look at him fully yet still not let go of his hand? Spencer knew not to pry. At least not yet. 

The plane landed and the team disembarked, saying their goodbyes and heading to their respective cars. You were still in a haze and, of course, still holding Spencer’s hand. 

Although the two of you didn’t officially live together, you spent every night in each other’s apartments. Usually based on who had more food in their house which was Spencer’s tonight. The drive home you were still silent, staring out the passenger window trying to squash the fluttering in your stomach like it was an annoying moth fluttering around your head. Spencer’s hand rest on your thigh, with your hand placed on top of it. 

You entered his apartment and dropped your bags, standing by the couch, feeling the moth in your stomach start flying faster as your breathing sped up slightly. You were so confused. The fact that this feeling should have faded by now just made you more anxious. Spencer realized you hadn’t followed him into his bedroom and came back to see you stood still, the same as you had been outside the deli, staring into his living room. 

“Y/n?” You turned at his voice. Your eyes were slightly glazed over and he walked towards you quickly, noticing that something was obviously wrong. “I’m okay, Y/n. What’s wrong?”

“I-uh...I don’t…” You tried to explain that you didn’t know what was wrong. You didn’t understand why you couldn’t accept that Spencer was actually okay. He felt so far away, so vulnerable, so easily taken away from you, and you just wanted to reach for him and grab onto whatever you could clutch. But you were frozen again not wanting to move, fearing that it wasn’t real and he would fall through your fingers like grains of sand. Spencer gently placed his hand on your back, applying pressure in an effort to move you to the bedroom. With Spencer’s guidance, you found your way into the bedroom and took a seat on the edge of the bed. Spencer knelt in front of you, his hands finding a place on your thighs and gazing up at you with his warm hazel eyes. He patiently waited for you to say something, rubbing circles in your legs. You tried to steady your breathing but were met with stinging in your eyes as tears formed in them. 

“I’m sorry…” You muttered, not meeting his eyes. Spencer’s brows furrowed and his lips quirked up in a confused smile.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” 

 You blinked, releasing the teardrops down your cheeks. “You’re the one who was in danger. I should be comforting you.” You stuttered out.

“Y/n. Look at me.” When you didn’t comply, he brought his hand to your jaw, wiping away the tears that had accumulated there and tilting your chin ever so slightly so you would look at him. You had never understood how someone’s eyes alone could deliver such a strong feeling but in that moment you saw such love pouring from his golden orbs into yours. “I was inside the building. I knew what was going on and knew that I would be fine once I assessed the situation. You were stuck on the outside, with no way of knowing if I was hurt or not. I know how scary that is. Trust me, I do.” 

Spencer brought his other hand up to your face, cupping your cheeks in his large palms, tracing your cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs.  “I know the fear and anxiety can linger and that’s unsettling. But I will do anything you need me to do to remind you that I am here, I am okay, and I love you.” You reached a hand out between Spencer’s arms to brush his soft curls behind his ear. 

“You’re okay.” You whispered, more to yourself than to him. 

“I’m okay.” He repeated, giving you a soft smile that melted your heart. Standing up from his position on the floor, he stood in front of you, hands still cupping your cheeks, and said, “How about a shower, my love?” 

You sniffled and nodded, his hands dropping to your waist as you stood up. He pressed his lips to your forehead as you wrapped your arms around his chest, squeezing him to remind yourself of the undeniable tangibility of his physical presence. 

Minutes later and hot water ran over your body. The scalding temperature burned away the anxiety of the day making you sigh as you tilted your head back, letting the water hit your neck and run down your chest. Goosebumps spread across your stomach as you felt the large palms of Spencer’s hands wrap around you, his head finding its rightful place in the crook of your neck. He pressed his lips, wet with the water of the shower, to the muscle that connected your upper spine to your shoulder. You spun around in his arms and looked at his blissful face as he pulled back from your neck. With one arm wrapped around his neck, your other fingers traced his immaculately sculpted cheekbones which led you to his immaculately sculpted nose and down his face finally to those immaculately sculpted lips, where you dragged your finger over the bottom one, watching it spring back into place. You were once again overwhelmed with emotion, but this time the tears weren’t breaking a seal of anxiety like the popping of a water balloon. They were spilling out of the plastic water bottle of love that resided in your heart, which was overflowing as you stared at the boy you loved so wholeheartedly causing your salty tears to join the drops of water flowing down your body. Spencer rubbed his hands up and down the expanse of your back. Somehow, he understood that these were different tears because, just as you had been able to see his eyes filled with love earlier, he saw the same love reflected back in yours. Using your hands behind his neck, you pulled him down to meet you, wet lips sliding over wet lips in a tender kiss. 

There was nothing sexual about the kiss. It was yet another moment of you basking in Spencer’s viability, his ability to kiss you back and the knowledge that he was alive and here. He was okay. You pulled away and nearly subconsciously whispered that fact out loud. Spencer let out a low chuckle, in no way mocking you, and whispered back the confirmation that he would never judge you for still needing. He was, indeed, okay. You rested your head against his chest, feeling the comforting lub dubs of his heart and the rise and fall of his lungs as they filled with air, yet another reminder of his livelihood. 

The two of you stayed there for what felt like hours, moving only to lather each other in soap, nearly robotically. Once the water started to lose its heat the pair of bodies found their way out of the shower, drying each other off in a pattern of pure domesticity. The next several minutes were filled with comfortable silence as you both got ready for bed. You pulled on an old Star Trek tee shirt of Spencer's that had been deeply worn in as he put on his pajamas and the two of you found your way into your shared bed, as if all paths led back to here, where you could sit, wrapped in the long arms and large hands of your beautiful boy and watch the world pass by, perfectly content. Spencer ran his nimble fingers through your damp hair, inhaling the scent. Your eyes barely open, you tilted your head up at him from your place wrapped around his torso. He smiled down at you and pressed his lips to your forehead.

For the last time that night but certainly not the last time ever you whispered,

“You’re okay.”

He smiled against your forehead.

“I’m okay.”

With that, you drifted off to sleep, happy to know that, at least for this moment, he was okay. 

[winterisakillerwrites]

Becoming -Part Two

Title: Becoming

One Shot: 2/6

Character: Tom Hiddleston

Genre: Realistic(?) fluff; Angst

Rating: T

Summary: Learning about his son was only just the start of the story. As Tom Hiddleston struggles to adapt to this sudden change in his life, he comes to learn that becoming a father might be the biggest role he’d ever taken on. *Sequel/Continuation of Lovers’ Eyes*

Authors Notes/Warnings: This story came about because I knew there was still so much about Tom and his son that I wanted to explore. I fully intended this to be a quick flash forward into their lives, a snapshot if you will….They had other ideas and so here we are. This is technically all one story but has been broken down into parts to make the reading easier.

Thanks so much first and foremost to @ciaodarknessmyheart who has dealt with me throwing all of these ideas at her and has helped shape them into something coherent and wonderful.

Thanks as well to @tinchentitri who also helped provide wonderful insight.

Hope you all enjoy!

Tag List: @tinchentitri @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @noplacelikehome77 @blacksuitofdoom @nonsensicalobsessions @theheartofpenelope @ms-cellanies @nuggsmum @inkededucatednnerdy @redfoxwritesstuff  @just-the-hiddles​ @wolfsmom1​ @theoneanna​ @hiddlescastle​ @sabine-leo​ @alexakeyloveloki​  @echantedbytwh @finchbaggins

PREVIOUS

Things seemed…If not easier, then certainly less dire after that evening. Tom still found himself questioning just what he was doing but the contact with Jaime, seeing his son smile and laugh made the distance easier to bear. They’d settled into a routine, speaking twice daily, once in the morning as Jaime started his day and once in the evening as he settled to bed. Even with several thousand miles between them and the relationship between them still new and fragile for it, Tom allowed himself a cautious hope that maybe, just maybe this could work. Or at least not fail completely.

 When filming wrapped four weeks later, it had taken everything in Tom to keep from running from set, to his hotel, and then straight to the nearest airport. The last thing he had any desire to do was hang about at the wrap party, but as one of the film’s stars his presence wasn’t negotiable in the eyes of his agent and majority of the crew. In the end he’d stayed long enough to make what his agent called “a respectable appearance”. He’d smiled and shared a drink but it was clear his mind was every much elsewhere.

 The flight home, only two planes and a five hour lay-over this time, was nerve-wrecking. He’d called Jaime during the layover, grateful to hear his son’s laughing voice, even if the boy was thoroughly distracted by whatever was currently on the television screen. Tom smiled as he recognized the theme playing and sighed.

 “Uncle Tom? You’ll be home soon right? You can come over and then we can play!”

 Tom swallowed thickly, trying to not let the hope in the boy’s voice overwhelm him. “I’ll see you maybe tomorrow, I’ll have to talk to your Nan to make sure.”

 Seeming satisfied with that, Jaime continued to babble on until Tom had needed to end the call when his flight was announced as boarding overhead. He’d been reluctant to end the call, not wanting to part from Jaime. It scared him, honestly, how much the little boy had come to mean to him and in such a short span of time. At times it still felt surreal, the idea he was someone’s father. That he was Jaime’s father.

 But was he even that really? Yes, he was biologically Jaime’s father; he had the paperwork and lab results to prove it, but as far as the boy was concerned he was ‘Uncle Tom’, his mummy’s silly friend who played pretend.

 And the knowledge of it burned far more than he had ever thought it would. It shouldn’t. He should have been grateful to even have a place in the boy’s life at all. It shouldn’t matter what Jaime called him. It was clear he adored Tom, clear he seemed to think the world of him. But it did. He was the boy’s father and Jaime didn’t know. And he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to honestly live with that. Tom scrubbed his face with his hands before shoving his mobile back into his pocket and running off towards the gate.

 He’d made the call to Keira in the late morning after he’d arrived home and had settled as well as he could manage. It felt strange, having to ask permission to see his own child but he knew it was her right as Keira was Jaime’s legal guardian. He could press the issue, take the matter up in the courts and take full, legal custody of the boy but at what cost? Keira was the only stable thing in Jaime’s life and as much as Tom wanted to be, he knew he couldn’t be that for the boy. Not now, not when his life was so unsteady. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone involved.

 Keira had agreed with minimal fuss; Jaime had apparently talked of nothing else from the time he’d finished speaking to Tom, throughout his bedtime routine, and well into breakfast after he’d awoken the following morning. “I figured as much,” she answered with a soft laugh, “Jaime is very much looking forward to seeing you.”

 “I am too.”

 Things fell back into their familiar new routine after that. Tom found himself spending whatever time he could at Keira’s with Jaime, ignoring the tearing at his heart whenever the boy called him ‘Uncle Tom’. It didn’t matter, he told himself. He was part of the boy’s life the hows shouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t let it matter. What mattered was he was a part of Jaime’s life.

 And that worked for a while.

 Tom did his best to balance the time he spent with Jaime with the demands his life placed on him; he did as much of the prep work for pre-production of his next project at home, only flying out at the last possible moment. He made sure to only be a phone or video call away from his son. It wasn’t ideal but it worked well enough. Tom found the work this time around grueling; when in the past he could let himself escape into the role he was playing, Tom couldn’t let himself now. Not when there was someone who needed him to be as present as possible.

 One afternoon months later, during one of Tom’s brief but desperately needed sojourns home, while they were both settled in the living room playing with Lego Jaime asked the question Tom had both longed for and dreaded with equal measure.

 “Uncle Tom, why don’t I have a daddy?”

 It was as if a pin had dropped. Tom found himself staring at the boy sitting beside him, confusion painted across his features. “What…Jaime, what’s brought this on?”

 Jaime shrugged, fidgeting with the Lego sitting before him. “Charlie’s dad takes him to the park and they play. I play with Nana Keira and you…But not my daddy. Mummy said he was away and couldn’t stay with us. But why?”

 Tom blinked at him, unsure of what to say. Jaime’s hazel eyes were large and full of question. God, how was he supposed to explain any of this to a five year-old?

 “I’d like to play in the park with my daddy like Charlie does,” Jaime continued, oblivious to the older man’s distress. “I like the swings and the slide. They’re fun and I can go high in the air. I like going high in the air. Mummy didn’t like going in the air but she always pushed me higher when I asked. Do you think my daddy likes going high in the air?”

 Again Tom felt his throat tighten as the enormity of Jaime’s questions overwhelmed him. “Maybe,” was all he could manage to whisper, though he knew it would do little to ease the questions he could still see burning in the boy’s eyes.

 “Jaime, my boy, come and get washed up for tea.” Keira’s voice echoed from the hall pulling Tom from his thoughts and sending his heart very nearly into his throat. Jaime pouted, clearly not ready for his playdate to be over.

 Tom smiled warmly at him, hoping it reached his eyes. The absolute last thing he wanted was to hurt or confuse the boy more than he already was. All he had done, after all, was ask questions that must have been rattling inside his head for a while.

 “Go listen to your Nan,” he urged, grabbing bits of Lego and dumping in back into the bin. “Go on, don’t you make her ask you a second time.”

 Jaime sighed, reluctantly got to his feet and dashed out of the living room.

 Footsteps in the hall pulled Tom’s attention from the mess around him. He dropped the pieces of Lego from his hand into the bin by his side and looked up to see Keira standing quietly in the doorway, an unreadable expression on her face. “I take it you overheard.”

 Keira nodded. “He’s been…Quite curious as of late. It was honestly only a matter of time, really.”

 Tom pushed himself to his feet. “I didn’t say anyth…I didn’t know what to say to him.”

 “I know you didn’t, but maybe it’s time you should.” Tom blinked at her in confusion. “He already adores you, Tom, and I know you feel the same. You aren’t good at sticking around, at being there for people, but I can see you trying. For Jaime. For yourself. And I can respect that.” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I may never like you, Tom, but I am starting to respect you. Just keep trying, you never know what may come of it.”

 She smiled once more and walked from the room, calling out. “James William, those hands better be cleaned with soap and water.”

 Gods above, he still didn’t know what to make of that woman.

 Starting at his hands, Tom resolved to not bring up the subject with Jaime again unless, or until, the boy brought it up himself. As much as he wanted to her the boy call him ‘daddy’, and gods above he did, Tom knew he couldn’t just come out and say it. The words sat on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t force himself to say them aloud. It was fear, pure and simple. He was afraid of disappointing the boy. Afraid he wouldn’t be enough, wouldn’t be the kind of father Jaime deserved.

 “Uncle Tom! Are you staying for tea?” Jaime’s voice proceeded him as the little boy darted back into the living room, eyes bright and shining.

 “I…If it’s alright with your Nan.”

 Jaime reached out and grabbed Tom’s hand, dragging the tall man behind him as he raced back towards the dining room and his waiting grandmother. The question comes out in a flurry of excited words and Keira had to ask Jaime twice to slow down and repeat himself before she understood. She smiled warmly at the boy before turning her attention towards Tom. “Of course. Hope you’re alright with tomato soup and cheese toasties.”

 Tom smiled brightly. “Tomato soup and cheese toasties sounds divine.”

 Places set, the three sat around the scarred wooden dining table with bowls of steaming soup and warm toasted sandwiches sat before them. Jaime dug into the meal with the kind of abandon Tom himself tucked into pudding. “Pace yourself, Jaime. This isn’t a race,” Keira scolded.

 Jaime looked up completely unabashed, pausing to take a deep drink of his glass of milk. Tom laughed heartily at the sight. His told him many a time over the last thirty odd years that he had been a cheeky little lad growing up and that if there was any justice in the world and he had children one day they would be just like him. Gods above, he thought, Mum was right.  

 “What’s funny?” Jaime asked, his mouth full of cheese toasty.

 “Something my mum told me.”

 “Oh?” Jaime’s eyes were wide with expectation. “What?”

 Tom wiped his mouth with a napkin and folded his hands together, resting them on the table. “She told me many a time that I was a mischievous little imp, always looking for trouble, always trying something new.”

 “Mummy used to call me her silly little imp.” Jaime’s smile faltered slightly at his own admission. “I miss Mummy.”

 Instinctively, Tom reached out, resting his hand on the boy’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I know you do. I miss her too. She was a very good woman, your mummy.” He smiled softy at Jaime. “And I know she loved you very much.”

 Jaime blinked up at him. “You do?”

 “You were her silly little imp, Jaime. Of course she loved you so very much. She told me, just the once, how you were her whole world and I know she meant it.” Tom sighed, letting his hand ruffle through Jaime’s sandy hair. “You are a very lucky young man, Jaime lad, to have a mummy like yours.”

 “Is your mummy gone too?”

 Tom blinked at Jaime’s quiet question, caught completely off guard by it. He coughed once before speaking. “No, my mummy is still here. She lives in Suffolk though and I don’t see her as much as I should.”

 Jaime nodded, looking at Tom curiously. “Does she live with your daddy?”

 Tom shook his head. “No, Jaime,” he answered as truthfully as he could. “My mummy doesn’t live with my daddy. My daddy lives far away, all the way up in Scotland.”

 “Oh.” There was slump to the boy’s shoulders that tore at Tom’s heart. “Do you think my daddy is there too? Mummy said he lived far away too.”

 Tears burned in Tom’s eyes. “Oh Jaime…He doesn’t live in Scotland, but…But he did live far away for a time.” He didn’t know why he was saying it, didn’t know just what he was saying. But he knew he had to say something.

 “You know my daddy?” Jaime’s voice was laced with such naked hope that Tom felt his heart clench. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Keira tense. They both knew this was coming, that it had to come, but so soon?

 “Jaime…I…” He fumbled over his words. Why was this so difficult?

 “He does, Jaime,” Keira cut in, ending Tom’s nervous rambling. She shot him a knowing look, as if to say, now or never.

 Jaime’s eyes widened as he stared up at Tom with unbridled hope. “You know my daddy?”

NEXT

[imaginewithmgk]

Would you do a one shot where the reader just had a really stressful day at work and kells helps by taking a hot bath with her and giving her some wine and it ends in fluffy bathtub smut?💜

I CAN DO HAPPY, I CAN DO NORMAL

request ten

summary: they take a bath together and colson pleasures her because she’s had a hard time recently. 

word count: 2,158

warnings: smut, alcohol

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I pace around my bedroom, running my fingers through my hair as I go over the events of today. First, I got a call from Casie’s school saying that she had gotten into a verbal altercation with another student. Apparently, another child was bad-mouthing her dad so she fought back. I obviously went to her to school to pick her up and she explained the situation to me, I wasn’t mad at her at all but I did give her some stern advice on what to do next time it happens. She seemed to take my advice on board, quickly apologising to the child and myself as well. I took her out for lunch before dropping her off at her mum’s house, after all, it was her week. I was hoping that would be the end of today’s “excitement” but of course not. I ended up running into my ex-boyfriend while I was at the store buying some groceries. 

I walk through the aisles aimlessly looking for things we need at home. I find myself near the fridges looking for almond milk when I feel someone tap me on the shoulder. I spin around only to be met by the face of my vile ex-boyfriend. “Ugh leave me alone,” I groan and begin to walk away. “Where’s your new play toy?” He grins. “What happened, he finally leave you? He realise you’re fucked up beyond fixing?”“Colson hasn’t left me. He’s working in LA, something you know nothing about.” I mumble. “Whatever. It’s just a matter of time before he leaves you because you’re so fucked up,”“You know nothing about him. He is nothing like you, you’re a fucking prick!” I begin to raise my voice. He puts his hand on his heart and pretends to be hurt.“Oh ouch. You know he’s the reason we broke up yeah? He’s standing in the way of our happiness baby,” He reaches out to place a hand on my shoulder but I move out of his way quickly. “He’s not standing in the way of nothing buddy. You being a whore and a drug addict is what ruined our relationship,“ “Whatever Y/N, you just ain’t tired of him yet. I know he can’t do you like I do you, make you feel the way I used to make you feel,” He smirks. I roll my eyes and turn away from him. “Leave me the fuck alone," "I’m not leaving you alone until you admit that you miss me and want me back,”“I don’t miss shit about you and I will never want you back!”“He isn’t good for you, I mean look at his lifestyle! He’s probably fucking bitches in LA while you’re at home pining over him. He will never understand you like I do Y/N,” Will this dude ever quit it? “Whether you like it or not, I am happy. You never even came close to making me as happy as he makes me. Leave me alone,”“But that’s just it Y/N… you don’t do happy, you don’t know what happy and normal is. It’s just a matter of time before you fuck it up and come running back to me,” He chuckles. “No, I won’t. I love Colson, a lot more than I ever loved you.”“Don’t worry baby, you will see. You will never be good enough for him. He’s going to realise that and leave you, then who will you go to? Me. Just like every other time,” I drop my basket on the floor and storm out of the shop.

I’m especially sick to death of him but also people judging Colson and I’s relationship. Why do they have to play games with my mind? I know Colson loves me, I can do happy, and I can do normal. Maybe this is why he calls me baby because I am a fucking baby and he has to take care of me. What if he never comes back? His album could be finished for all I know. Maybe he left just to get away from me. It truly has been one of the worst days I’ve ever experienced, the only thing that could fix my horrible mood is if my man was here. Fuck I need to hear his voice, I won’t be able to sleep tonight with these thoughts running through my mind. I need him here with me. I decide to call him, at least his voice can calm me down.  “Hey baby,” He answers almost instantly. “Hey,” I mumble. “Are you okay?” He asks. I bite my lip as tears brim in my eyes. “Y-yeah, I just miss you,” I admit. “Are you sure? Did something happen to you?” His voice sounds as soothing as ever, I sob into the phone. “Baby what happened?”“I just had a difficult day,” I breathe out. “You know I hate to ask this because I know you’re busy but can you come home?” I almost whisper. “Of course darling. I’ll be home in 6 hours. I love you,”“Thank you. I’ll meet you at the airport.” I hang up the phone and collapse onto the bed we share. I can’t believe I made him come home, I can’t believe he actually got on a plane and came. He loves me, I know he loves me. Fuck what people think. 

I waste time watching Netflix and napping for a few hours before I make my way to the airport. His plane lands shortly after I arrive, instantly I feel better when I see his face. I run over to him and jump onto him, wrapping my legs around his waist and bury my face into his neck.“What’s wrong baby girl?” He asks hugging me back tightly.“I’m okay now that you’re here,” I whisper. “Something happened, I can tell,” He places me on the ground and grabs my chin forcing me to look into his stunning blue eyes. He kisses my lips delicately and I almost fall apart right then and there.“Come on, I’ll tell you as we drive,” I kiss his cheek and intertwine our fingers as we make our way to my car. I explain what happened today, he just holds my hand throughout it all and plays with my fingers.“You don’t believe that shit do you?” He asks and I don’t answer. “You can’t believe that!”“Maybe he was right… I can’t do normal. You’re perfect, how can you be so perfect? I don’t deserve someone like you.”“Baby I’m not perfect. You of all people should know this. But what I know is that we are perfect together, we are endgame.”“I love you,”“I love you! You’re never going to get rid of me,” He laughs. We continue chatting as we make our way home. “I’m so tired from all this stressful shit,” I admit as we walk through the front door and towards our room. “We can put on a movie or sum and just cuddle if you want bubba,” He offers, to which I nod at him. I change out of my clothes from that day into a pair of booty shorts and a tank top. He simply pulls off his top and pants so that he’s left in only his boxers and lays down on the bed. I stand there staring at him, how the fuck did I get such a gorgeous and caring man to love me?“You gon come here and give me some lovin or you just gon stand there checking me out?” He chuckles. I shake my head at him and get into bed, moving around so my head is laying on his chest. I trace the tattoos on his stomach as he puts Netflix on and picks a movie. “Hey, do you want to have a bath first?” He asks. “I’m too tired,” I admit. “Come on, I’ll set it up for you. I promise it will make you feel better,”“Okay sure,” I smile as he kisses my cheek and makes his way to our ensuite. Colson’s P.O.V.

I walk into our ensuite and turn on the cold water, and then the hot to make it a nice warm temperature. I grab an assortment of bath oils, making sure that one of them is eucalyptus because I know Y/N loves the smell. I add some bubble bath and then shut off the water before making my way back to the bedroom. “You ready baby?” I smile at her. She nods and extends her arms signalling for me to pick her up. I do so, and take her into the bathroom. I sit her down on the bench and pull her tank top off, and then her shorts. “God, you’re so beautiful,” I kiss her neck lightly. She moans at the contact and pulls my boxers off me. She begins to lightly stroke my member as I keep kissing her neck. “We’ll continue in the bath,” I mumble and pull myself away from her. I get into the tub, leaning against one side so she can sit in between my legs. She hops in after me and presses her back up against my stomach. I grab some soap and a loofa and begin washing her back, stomach, breasts, anything I can reach really. We spend a long time in the tub and share a glass of wine before getting dressed and going back to our bed. I lay down and she places her head on my chest. 

Y/N’s P.O.V.

All of a sudden I feel a cold breeze on my breast. Without me noticing, Colson had pulled my tank top down and began to massage me.“What do you think you’re doing?” I giggle. “What? I can’t appreciate my woman?” He says mischievously. He moves us around so he can kiss my breasts. He moves down and lightly sucks on my nipple. “You know my boobs are my weakness, Colson,” He just hums. “And you know this is my favourite thing to do… watch a movie with my girl and play with her boobies a lil,” He says which makes me laugh. He finally stops and just leaves a hand resting on my breast while we try to watch the movie that was interrupted by our bath. 

I sigh loudly halfway through what we were watching,“What’s up girl?” “I’m tired but I can’t sleep, I’ve got too much shit on my mind,” I admit. He starts to play with my hair.“Want me to make you feel good baby girl?”“Yes please,” He doesn’t waste any time, he gets off the bed and makes his way down to the edge. Colson grabs my bare thighs and pulls me towards him so I’m sitting at the end of the bed, and he’s on his knees facing me. He kisses the inside of my thighs lightly before curling his fingers around the material of my shorts and pulling them down my legs. I kick them off, leaving my bottom-half naked. “Damn you’re already wet,” He smirks and traces his finger up and down my slit. I lean my head backwards in pleasure as he licks my folds gently. I can tell that he wants this to be all about love, rather than the raunchy fucking we usually partake in and I do not mind one bit. He traces his tongue from my core, all the way up to my clit. He kisses just above my sensitive area before latching his lips to my clit and sucking hard. I let out a loud moan as he moves his tongue in all different kinds of directions. I grab the back of his head with my hand and buck my hips as he plunges his tongue into my core. “Oh fuck Colson,” I pull his hair. I can feel him chuckle, the vibrations almost sending me over the edge. I let out some porn star-like moans as he grabs my hips and pushes me further towards him. He moves out of my core and back to my clit where he licks and sucks intensely. “O-oh my god,” I practically yell. “F-fuck me with your tongue,” He does what I say and moves back down to my core, sticking his tongue in as far as possible. I push his head further into me if that’s even possible. I can feel his nose rubbing against my clit which is sending me over the edge. “I’m g-gonna cum,” I moan.“Cum on my tongue baby girl,” I let myself go at his words. He licks me up and down and then uses an old t-shirt to clean me. I lay back on the bed, panting with my eyes closed. 

“I can’t believe I just made you cum with only my mouth,” He grins. “Shut up,” I mumble and pull him towards me so we can cuddle. 

-

tagged @2dead2function @s-j-g-x @bakerkells @mayaslifeinabox @Onlybadthingz @PumpkinQueenest19 @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @Feeding-into-darkness @xxkellsvixen19xx @lovemythsworld @xwhitewalkerx @deanwinchesterswife121 @jindongdongie

[deputyash]

The Bunker of Eden: 2

“Baptism”

Pairing/Characters: The Seeds x Deputy!Reader

Word Count: 1,583

Warnings: Nightmares, Mentions of Death, Vague Nondescript Nudity

Summary: The Deputy is still curious about the Seeds’ resurrections and John is given a task by Joseph.

Tagging: @xmisswolfx @thuutthuutbilly @littlecuddler @krenee1drful @onl-you @sleepylunarwolf (I tagged people who asked about a second part earlier, hope that’s alright!)

A/N: Here’s another piece of the Bunker Mini-Series! Sorry it’s been awhile! I’d also like to note I had to change up John’s boss battle a bit to fit the story and make it interesting. Hopefully I explained it enough in the story.

Hope ya’ll Enjoy! :D

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

Y/N was asleep on the couch in the living room portion of the bunker. It was a larger room with hanging lights that gave off just enough light to see. There was two couches and an armchair as well as a couple of coffee tables. It was oddly luxurious for being a bunker. It was a perfect place for Y/N to go.

They were very thankful to have finally found a quiet place away from the always talkative Seed family. It’s only been three days and they’ve already talked enough to make Rook’s mind numb with annoyance.

Unfortunately, Y/N’s peaceful nap was about to take an abrupt turn. Everything was fine at first. They were sleeping a dreamless sleep, but then their subconscious drifted back to that day. It wandered back to memories of their friends.

Rook sees their friends standing in front of them. They try to call for them, but they all just stand there with blank expressions. Y/N tries to take a step towards them, but find that they can’t. They reach a hand out, but as they do, the sky suddenly turns dark.

A huge mushroom cloud eats up the sky and fire comes raining down around them. The fire sets the dry grass aflame and it begins spreading quickly. It moves closer to Y/N’s friends. It rushes towards Grace and Sharky and the Ryes. Rook yells for them to move, but they don’t listen. Tears runs down Rook’s face as they watch the flames rise higher and higher. They cover their eyes and let out a yell of anguish as the flames burn away their friends.

Rook tries to turn and run away, but they still can’t move. The flames come closer and Y/N can feel the heat radiating around them. They fall to their knees and let out a body-racking sob. Just as the flames engulfs them, a rough shake pulls them out of the nightmare.

Y/N sits up with a gasp. Sweat and tears run down their face as they look up at who woke them. 

It was John. 

He lets go of their arm and goes back to sit on the other couch.

“You still have them too?” He asks, sitting down and looking at them with intent eyes.

Y/N was hesitant to answer, but they give a slight nod.

“...Me too. What was it about this time?” He asks.

Rook turns away defiantly. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

After a short pause, John speaks. “We’re not here to hurt you, you know.”

Y/N sneers, “Sure.”

Rook’s surprised he wasn’t gloating at their fear and guilt. Why is he acting all nice now?

“Why aren’t you with your family?” They add.

John lets out a tired sigh. “Joseph wanted me to watch over you. He says it’ll be ‘good’ for me.”

“I’m not a child.” Y/N says, sitting up and facing John.

John raises his arms in surrender. “Wasn’t my decision, Deputy.”

“Well I’m awake now, so leave me alone.”

“I’m afraid I can't do that. Joseph gave me a task to assist you with. He wanted me to make sure you’re properly caring for yourself.”

Y/N scoffs, “He really does treat me like a child.”

“Well, you are the one who been dressed in the same filthy clothes for the last several days.”

Rook glares at John, but doesn’t reply. He was right. They hadn’t gotten a chance to shower or change clothing since being stuck in here.

“And what exactly do I need your help for?”

John puts on a charming smirk. “Everything, dear Y/N.”

Rook was about to protest, but John stands and grabs their arm to pull them up as well. “We’ve wasted enough time. Let's get this over with.”

“John, let me go!”

“It’ll be over quicker if you just comply.” John practically sings.

He leads them down the hallways until they reach the bathroom. John pushes them inside and follows behind, closing the door. He rolls up his sleeves as he goes over to the bath and turns on the water. He tests the temperature and when it’s just warm enough, he lets the tub fill.

As he waits for that to finish, he grabs a shampoo bottle from the cabinet and sets it down beside the tub and then turns off the water. He stands once more and looks back at Y/N. He clasps his hands together as he steps toward them.

“Alright. I believe it's time for your part.” He says, gesturing towards them.

Rook crosses their arms. “I’m not bathing with you in the room.”

“And why not? It’s basically a second baptism, my dearest Y/N. I need to make sure you’re properly cleaned.”

“I think I can handle this just fine myself.”

John clicks his tongue. “Such a shame, but fine. I’ll be waiting outside the door.”

Rook doesn’t move until he’s outside and the door’s shut. “You better not come in.”

“You have such little faith in me, Y/N.” John replies.

Once Y/N’s satisfies that he won’t come in, they quickly undress and step into the warm bath. It felt so good to finally get those dirty clothes off.

They quickly scrub at their skin to get rid of the remnants of dried blood and grime that coated their skin. They let out a relaxed sigh as they already begin to feel clean. Y/N squeezes some shampoo into their hand and runs their fingers through their hair. They soap it up before rinsing it out as well.

After getting every speck of dirt off of them, Rook gets out and drains the tub. They grab a towel to dry off before wrapping it around themself. They look down at their clothes before looking towards the door.

“John? What exactly am I going to wear? My clothes—“

Before they can finish their sentence, the door opens and John steps in. Y/N jumps and quickly scolds him.

“Hey! I told you not to come in!”

“Don’t lose your pretty little mind now, Deputy. I’m just giving you your clothes.”

Y/N grabs the clothes from his hands and he steps back towards the door. “See? You can trust me.”

“Whatever.”

After John’s gone, Rook gets dressed in the new clothing. They pull on the T-shirt and pants before stepping out of the bathroom. John sits up from where he was leaning against the wall.

“Don’t you feel much better now?”

Rook wanted to say no just to spite him, but they couldn’t deny the comfort that the bath had actually brought them. They begrudgingly nod in agreement.

“I knew you’d come around.” John says, coming to stand in front of them.

An idea suddenly pops into Y/N’s mind. They look at John. “I did what you asked, so can I ask something of you now?”

John looks at them with hesitation, but gives a slight nod. “That’s going to depend on what you ask, but sure, ask away.”

“Tell me how you lived.” Rook says without hesitation.

They had to know. It was something that hasn’t left their mind since waking up here. It’s a constant reminder of that day and they at least deserved to know the truth about this.

John lets out a sigh. He looks away for a moment before glancing back. “Alright.” He answers, then moves away from Rook.

He begins going down the hall much to Y/N’s confusion.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m not going to stand outside the bathroom while explaining this. We’re going back to the living room.”

Y/N follows John back to the living room and sits down across from him in the armchair. He reclines back in the couch as he looks at Y/N.

“It wasn’t me.” He states.

“What?”

“It wasn’t me in the plane crash.”

“What do you mean? I saw your body. It was—“

“Charred? Mangled? I’m sure you noticed that my face was practically missing?”

Realization washes over Rook. “You mean...that was someone else’s body?”

“Precisely. Do you really think I would risk myself that much indulging you in your wrath?”

“Then why was your key on the body?”

“It had to be there. Joseph said—“

“Joseph said to kill an innocent man in your place?”

“It was his own decision to be my double, Y/N. He was by no means forced to do it.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.”

“And actually killing me makes it any better?”

Rook couldn’t believe this. The person they killed in that fight, wasn’t even him! They didn’t even know their name or who they were! Y/N presses their hands of their head. “I killed someone else...”

“Y/N—“

Y/N lets out a choked up, pained laugh. “You’re insane.”

They go to stand and leave the room, but John grabs their arm and pulls them back.

“It had to be done. There was no other way. I had to do what Joseph said—“

“Didn’t Joseph also say that the Gates of Eden would be closed to you if I didn’t atone?” Rook looks at John with furious eyes. “I don’t remember ever saying yes.”

John’s silent. He just stares at them with shocked eyes. His grip on their arm loosens until he lets go completely. Y/N moves away from him and leaves the room. John eventually turns and looks out the empty doorway.

“I’m sorry...”

- - - - - - 

Previous Part ~~~ Masterlist 

[jahaanofmenaphos]

Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

Read the full work here:

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

FANFICTION.NET

TUMBLR CHAPTER INDEX

QUEST 06: FATE OF THE GODS

QUEST SUMMARY:

The gods have returned to Gielinor, but something is preventing the arrival of Zaros. Jahaan is enlisted by Azzanadra to help bring his god back to their world, a task that would send him into the harshities of the Mahjarrat homeworld: Freneskae...

CHAPTER 1: WORLDS APART

Jahaan pried himself off the duvet the next afternoon in a puddle of drool. Not morning, no… he’d long since slept through that. Wiping his face, he tried to blink some of the sleep from his eyes and turn over, attempting to push himself up off the bed and gain a vertical base once more. It was an effort, but eventually he managed to fall onto the edge of the bed and sit upright, the room swaying and swirling before him.

That’s when a quick dash to the bathroom was in order.

Splashing his face with the icy cold stream from the tap, Jahaan looked up at himself in the small mirror and laughed humourlessly at his dishevelled reflection. As he tried to straighten out his locks of hair, so too did he attempt to piece together the previous night’s antics.

The destruction to the cabinet, alongside the spew of weapons cluttering the carpet, was proof enough that it was no dream. He’d caught Sliske in his disguise, and almost ended him too. For a brief moment, he had the upper hand.

However, with dismal realisation, Jahaan realised that, even with a bow and arrow trained on Sliske’s skull, he never had the upper hand.

Not against Sliske.

It was then he saw the letter from Azzanadra on the bed.

It definitely started out as a trudge as he made his way over to the coordinates Azzanadra had left him. Of course, he didn’t have a compass himself, and had to make a little pit stop at a small general store, which overcharged him for the pleasure of likely being the only customer that day.

Walking definitely helped his hangover start to ebb away, and before long the arduous slog of a journey turned into quite a nice walk through some unfamiliar, though quite beautiful, forest land. He hardly saw another soul on the entire journey.

A few hours later, the outline of Azzanadra’s unique headdress came into view, along with the rest of him, and Jahaan trotted over to the waiting Mahjarrat.

“Azzanadra!” he cheerily greeted. “Sorry for the hold up. Took me a while to find this place…”

Jahaan decided Azzanadra didn’t need to know about human hangovers, though he suspected in all his years he’d encountered quite a few inebriated fellows. It was more that he didn’t want to talk about it, in case the hangover heard him and maliciously returned for round two. Not exactly a logical train of thought, but he was rolling with it regardless.

“I am glad you could make it, Jahaan,” Azzanadra smiled warmly back it him, though his hand was twitching with impatience.

“So what are you doing out here?” Jahaan asked. “You were quite vague in your letter.”

“Such things could not be trusted to pen and papyrus, for I am here under direct orders from Zaros,” he stated with a smirk on his face that soap and water couldn’t wash off.

Raising an eyebrow, Jahaan replied, “Alright, but what do you need me for?”

“Rejoice!” Azzanadra cheered, emphasising his words with a loud clap. “The time for Zaros' return is at hand!”

Jahaan gasped. “Zaros is actually returning?”

“Yes. Guthix's death was a tragedy, but it has allowed all other gods to return. There is one final obstacle preventing Zaros' arrival, however. Once more, I request your services in the name of my lord. You, and only you, are capable of removing this obstacle. While you may not always have displayed an unerring devotion to Zaros, I need you for this, World Guardian. All disagreements between us are in the past. Any doubts you may have will be answered. Today, we shall truly see if you stand with Zaros, or against him.”

Well, this is a lot to take in, Jahaan thought to himself with an exaggerated exhale. Scratching the non-existent itch on the back of his neck was an excuse to distract himself from Azzanadra’s beady eyes, eyes that demand all, filled with palpable hope that could teeter any moment to rageful disappointment, depending on Jahaan’s response.

He did all he could to avoid meeting those eyes.

Zaros hadn’t played a major part in Jahaan’s life; he was the deity that he knew the least about, all things considered. Sure, he’d read the history books, overwhelmed by a Menaphite bias. He knew all of the Zarosian-Kharidian Wars in the Second Age. He knew about Zaros’ empire, and the rise of Zamorak that came from betraying his former master.

He knew overviews, broad opinions, and naturally, the tainted preachings from Azzanadra. He knew nothing about the deity that he could sink his teeth into, nothing he could get behind. Little information about Zaros’ beliefs or philosophies had been published. In fact, he was shrouded in so much mystery that many people believed the rumour that he was Bob the Cat, the most famous stray in all of Gielinor.

His dangerous curiosity getting the better of him, Jahaan agreed, “Sure, I'll help if I can.”

With a relieved sigh, Azzanadra’s smile grew broad and grateful. “Ever since you released me from my prison, I knew there was something different about you. I have had little reason to rely on humans, even fewer to call one friend... but you have proven yourself to me. I have faith that you will prove yourself once more. Not just to me, but to Lord Zaros himself. This will be a glorious day! Zaros awaits you through the World Gate. Will you go and assist him now?”

“Alright, but what’s the ‘World Gate’?” “It is a portal between realms, created by Guthix many millennia ago. While there are many portals that allow for travel from plane to plane, only the World Gate has the power to reach every plane in existence. Though, at present, it can only reach worlds that either Guthix or Zaros visited with it. To reach Zaros by any other means would require more power and time than is available to us.”

Jahaan looked all around him, scanning the barren, uninteresting surroundings. “Sooo... where’s the World Gate now?” “Why, it is right here, hidden in the Shadow Realm, away from prying eyes.”

“And how do we get it out of the Shadow Realm?”

There was a solid beat of hesitation from Azzanadra. “We... require the aid of another for this task.”

“Who?” there was a churning worry in the pit of Jahaan’s stomach. He had a good guess at who, but was praying to whatever gods were listening that he was wrong.

“I think you know all too well,” Azzanadra confirmed his suspicions. “I was unsure of this, but Zaros was clear.”

Jahaan’s heart dropped. “Oh please no…”

Light vanished; darkness slashed. When it all returned to normal, Sliske was standing opposite Azzanadra, sporting a smile that would almost be classed as friendly if it wasn’t for the self-satisfied glint in his eyes. With a theatrical gesture, he exclaimed, “Speak of the Mahjarrat, and he shall appear!”

Not having time for Sliske’s shit, Jahaan shot back to Azzanadra and stated, “I’m not working with him.”

“Oh come now, it’ll be fun!” Sliske’s honeyed voice dripped through everyone’s last nerve like acid. “I told you we’d make a good team.”

Begrudgingly, Azzanadra said, “We do not have a choice. Zaros was clear.”

His eyes whispered the ‘please’ that his lips missed, hidden among the explanation, “Sliske is the only one of us capable of drawing the Gate back into the material realm. I am not happy that we need him, but need him we do.”

Jahaan looked between Azzanadra and Sliske, realising that the chance of an alternative solution was growing rapidly dimmer. “Fine,” he resigned with a heavy sigh. “Let’s just get this over with. The sooner it’s done-”

“...the sooner you can, what? Go back to your aimless wanderings? Emptily threatening to kill me? Drinking with handsome strangers in bars?” Sliske completed, raising his brows with a patronising glare.

“Just tell me what needs to be doing,” Jahaan growled, instinctively taking a step back when Sliske moved towards him.

“Now now, no need to get all bothered. I just need to pull you into the Shadow Realm, is all.”

Before Jahaan could protest, Sliske grabbed his shoulder and shrouded the world in a bleak, damp cover. Cold air rattled through his lungs, but it was thick and clogging, and every movement felt like he was underwater. Everything around them had turned a dark shade of grey, shadows manifesting in threatening clouds around the trees. Azzanadra was there too, cloaked in shades. Jahaan went to call out to him, but Sliske stopped him, explaining, “He can’t hear you. Not well enough, at least, unless you feel like screaming into his ear. I doubt he’d appreciate that.”

Shadows danced around Jahaan’s form; he felt them like claws on his back. “No wonder you like this place so much. Come on, let’s get the World Gate and get out of here.”

Sliske wrung his hands together. “Now, let's not rush into things. I have a proposition for you…”

“Oh, here it comes,” Jahaan rolled his eyes. “You just can't help yourself, can you?”

“What can I say?” Sliske shrugged with a wide grin plastered across his features. “I am who I am. At least I'm consistent.”

“Aren’t you in a rush to get Zaros back?”

Laughing, Sliske replied, “Zaros has waited for thousands of years. A few more minutes won’t kill him.”

“You know, I don’t see you falling over yourself in worship of him like Azzanadra does,” Jahaan pointed out. “What do you really think of Zaros?”

Letting out a short, sharp laugh, Sliske replied, “Azzanadra is far too blinkered by fealty for his own good. But of all the gods, I like Zaros most. He just gets me, you know? He helped to make the world my playground. But he's been gone a long time and we're all getting on just fine without him. We don't need him. We don't need any gods.”

If Jahaan wasn’t mistaken, he detected a hint of urgency in his words, a slightly higher tone that betrayed something layered beneath his usually poised and conceited dialect.

“Oh, but I suppose we do need a sadistic Mahjarrat?” Jahaan countered, hoping to catch the tone again, to confirm his suspicions.

“This isn't about me.”

“Isn’t it?” Jahaan put his hands on his hips, a knowing smile tearing through Sliske, his body alive with confidence. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you don’t want Zaros to return. Is your loyalty that fickle, or are you scared claiming ascension might have some repercussions?”

“Loyalty goes both ways!” Sliske protested. “I see the truth, unlike pious Azzanadra over there. Oh, I still follow orders like a good little Mahjarrat, but I've always taken them more as… guidelines. I like to be creative.”

“So did Zaros order you to kill Guthix?”

Sliske’s hand danced around him. “That was more my... interpretation. Zaros wanted to return, but I saw the futility in bargaining with Guthix. I suspect Zaros knew that, but he's not exactly forthcoming.”

“And your tournament for the gods?” Jahaan inquired with interrogative undertones.

Sliske’s smirk was wicked. “Well, a Mahjarrat needs some fun too, you know. But Zaros wanted a diversion, so I gave him one. While the other gods are busy with their infighting, Zaros can return unchallenged and none will be the wiser.”

“So everything you've done has been for Zaros? You ARE still a loyal Zarosian?”

Contemplating this, Sliske replied, “After a fashion.”

“But now you're suggesting, what, that I should sabotage Zaros' return?” he shook his head in bafflement. “What game are you playing, Sliske?”

“What can I say?” Sliske’s palms were splayed outwards. “I'm complicated.”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Jahaan could feel a headache forming. “Thing is, you don’t exactly have a trustworthy reputation. Why should I even hear you out?”

“Because this time, trust or whatever you might think of me isn’t a factor,” Sliske’s smile was tight; that urgent voice was back. “Through that Gate you're on your own. Neither I nor Azzanadra can follow you. Ask Azzanadra if you don't believe me. I'm not fool enough to so openly disobey Zaros's orders. It will be just you and Zaros. You can see for yourself what he's like, and make up your own mind. All I'm suggesting is that you don't have to do what is asked of you. You always have a choice. As World Guardian, even he cannot force you - the decision WILL be yours. If you like Zaros, then by all means help him. But if you're opposed to him, now is your best opportunity to get rid of him for good, or at least weaken him further. The point is that, ultimately, HIS fate is in YOUR hands. And that, to me, is such sweet irony - it's what I live for.”

Jahaan looked up into Sliske’s eyes, trying to read them, but they were in a language he couldn’t decipher. So, he was hesitant to take the snake’s words at face value. If they were said by anyone else, he’d admit that they have a valid point, and that keeping an open mind was wise. Sliske had an ulterior motive though, and it pushed him away from rational thinking, into blindly going against anything and everything he said.

Which was stupid.

That’s stupid, Jahaan confirmed to himself, the throbbing in his head beating in time to his pulse. He has a point.

So, aloud, Jahaan agreed, “I'll keep that in mind.”

The smile Sliske returned wasn’t all that reassuring. “That is all I could ask for. Now, that's enough prattling - let's get this Gate back in the material realm.”

Sliske waved his arms outwards, then towards the World Gate; he looked like he was straining ever so slightly, like the look of someone lifting a rather large parcel but not wanting to show the struggle. Soon enough though, Sliske, Jahaan and the World Gate were back in the material realm, out of the clutches of the shadows.

The comparatively warm air of normality flooded back into Jahaan’s lungs, and he breathed it in greedily.

However, Jahaan didn’t get much time to enjoy before Azzanadra pressed, “What was the delay?”

“Oh, calm down, Azzy,” Sliske rolled his eyes. “Zaros isn’t going anywhere.”

Shooting Sliske a look, Azzanadra ushered Jahaan to one side and whispered, “You were in the Shadow Realm with Sliske for quite some time. I hope he wasn't filling your head with his nonsense.”

Understanding it was more of a question than a statement, Jahaan decided to spare Azzanadra Sliske’s poison. “Just his usual spiel.”

There was a hint of relief on the Mahjarrat’s face. Wryly, Azzanadra replied, “That can be damning enough. They don’t call him ‘serpent tongue’ for nothing.”

Obviously feeling left out, Sliske jeeringly exclaimed, “Big Boss to Bunny Ears! Big Boss to Bunny Ears! Come in, Bunny Ears!”

Azzanadra shot around to him. “Do not mock my hat! It deserves respect. It is a sign of my devotion, my position in the church.”

“A church that ceased to exist along with the Empire. It's about time you faced up to that.”

Azzanadra clenched his fists into balls; Jahaan could see the magic quietly pulsing at his fingertips, and prepared to dive out of the way if things escalated. Fortunately, Azzanadra managed to calm himself slightly, and the energy faded away. “One of these days I'm going to melt that smug grin off your face.”

Turning his attention to something productive - the World Gate - Azzanadra began altering the dials and coordinates on its surface, symbols written in an ancient language long-since dead and buried, but Azzanadra seemed to decipher it.

“I've taken the liberty of setting the Gate to where you'll be going,” he stated, standing back to admire the Gate as it whirred with a comforting hum. It wasn’t the largest of doorways; Jahaan would have to bend to get through. If he looked closely at the wavering, pulsing green energy that made up the window to the other worlds, he could make out shapes on the other side. Vague outlines, mind you. Only the bare basics. But it was surreal in its own right, to see into another reality. The feeling gave Jahaan goosebumps.

Azzanadra continued, “Once on the other side, everything is up to you. I am under orders to remain here, and I will ensure Sliske never leaves my sight.”

“Why the hostility, Azzy?” Sliske’s eyes flashed with… something. “We used to be such good friends, you and I. Back in the good old days in the Empire, back on Freneskae...”

Freneskae, the name snapped Jahaan back to the task at hand. “Is that where the World Gate is taking me?”

“Freneskae, yes!” Azzanadra cheered. “It is where all Mahjarrat originate. The untrained eye may call it ‘desolate’ and ‘inhospitable’, but a Mahjarrat can see its true beauty.”

At this, Sliske scoffed.

Raising a challenging eyebrow, Azzanadra said, “Something you wish to share, Sliske?”

“Freneskae is such a dull place; there's nothing to do there!” he whined. “Just rocks and lava, lava and rocks… so bland, so boring. Not like here - Gielinor is so much more fun!”

Pointedly ignoring Sliske, Azzanadra explained, “Zaros originates on Freneskae too, like the Mahjarrat. He was able to give us such an insight into our tribe, to provide us with the means to rejuvenate ourselves sparingly. You can see why we left Icthlarin for him. He is our progenitor, of sorts.”

Sliske rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, he’s our ‘saviour’, alright.”

“Are you really still hung up on that?”

“Zaros wanting to know our every move? Our every thought? Let's just say I'm not looking forward to having to file reports again.”

There was a trace of a smile on Azzanada's face. “As I recall, you always managed to do your own thing regardless.”

A thin smile crept into Sliske’s lips, and his eyes lightened. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

Azzanadra motioned for Jahaan to approach the World Gate, which he did with slight trepidation. “Step through when you are ready, World Guardian. The Empty Lord awaits…”

Bracing himself, Jahaan took one last look back at Azzanadra for reassurance, then one last look at Sliske, who’s eyes were fixed upon him, like he was watching an actor on the stage.

“Alright,” he exhaled deeply, hands resting on both his swords. “Here goes nothing…”

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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[uncpanda]

A Sniper, a Soldier, and a Fangirl: Part 3

Prompt: Sometimes life sucked. You’d found that out early in life. An embarrassing incident here, an anxiety attack there, and voila an introvert was born. And to be completely honest you were okay with that fact. Being introverted was not a bad thing, it allowed you time to do the important things like, obsess over fictional characters, or write, or work, or study, or geek out in general. It was a simple life, but it was a good life. THen the impossible happened, you got sucked into a fictional world that wasn’t actually fictional, and found out two of your favorite characters were your soulmates. You weren’t sure if you were lucky, or just crazy.

Fandom: Marvel

AN: I am amazed at the support for this series. I haven’t been this excited about a series in a long time. So, here’s part two, Enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2

    You decide that there is nothing in the world that beats a hot shower. As the hot water washes away the dirt and grime, you focus on anything but what is currently happening to your life; because if you stop to think about the fact that you’re now stuck in a parallel universe with two soul mates you might just lose it. You can’t afford to lose it. So, you focus on anything else, that spot in the far corner, the smell of the soap or lack thereof, the shape of the shower head, anything really. You do this until the water turns yours fingers pruny and you know it’s time to get out.

    You find a set of male clothes waiting for you; and over sized tee-shirt, which is not going to hide your lack of a bra, and a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring. You don’t have to tighten them much, your hips are wide enough that it only takes a slight pull, and putting the strings into a bow. You pad out of the bathroom and into a larger room to find it empty.

    You wait exactly three minutes before trekking out into the hallway. Your journey back to the common room is filled with more than one wrong turn. And when you find it, you hesitate before slipping in. You stand near the back, and listen as they talk, “I just don’t get why Clint and Steve didn’t know earlier. It’s not like they’ve never shaken hands before or even hugged.” Natasha’s shoulders shrug up and down once with the question.

    “She wasn’t here. She wasn’t in our world. For the soulmarks to take place they’d need to be on the same plane of existence.” Bruce’s answer is simple. He says it so certainly that you know, no one will argue with the man.

    Steve tilts his head, “So she gets here, the soulmark becomes a possibility. I’ve been on a mission for the past week, so it makes sense that Clint and I wouldn’t know ahead of time.”

    A moment of silence falls over the group before Clint asks, “What about her though? She doesn’t know about any of this. According to the records we obtained she thought our world was fictional. How do we explain the marks to her?”

    Steve’s head turns towards him, “They don’t have them where she comes from?”

    Clint shakes his head, “Nope, and I’ve only explained the bare minimum.”

    Sam shrugs, “Probably best not to overwhelm her to be honest. She’s just lost everything; family, friends, a career. And as far as we know there’s no way of getting her back. Probably best to take easy for a couple of days.”

    Clint nods, “We could take her shopping. She’s going to need clothes. She can’t just wear my tee shirts and your sweatpants forever.”

    Steve smiles, “Get her few other things to help it feel like home until we figure out what the three of us are going to do.”

    Tony smirks, “And what are you going to do, Captain? Buy a farm? Live out in the country? Have a couple of kids, and retire from the Avengers.”

    Steve and Clint look at each other, before Clint smiles, “Doesn’t sound bad to me. A normal family, doing normal things. No alien invasions, or stuck up billionaire playboys.”

    Steve chuckles, “Sign me up.”

    Tony makes a sound and the rest of them laugh. As they do so, you slip back out the door, and down the hallway, until you come to stand in front of a large bay window. You stare out at the trees, and blue sky for a minute before a hand lands on your shoulder.

    You squeak as you turn to face Natasha, and a small smirk is resting on her lips, “A bit jumpy today?”

    You say nothing and she moves to stand next to you, “It’s a pretty view. Not a bad place to live. Food could be a bit better though. Not a great place to raise kids.”

    “I’ve known them for all of three minutes, kids aren’t exactly on my mind right now.”

    She smiles, “Fair enough. What is on your mind?”

    “Honestly?”

    “I’d appreciate it.”

    “Sleep. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since this entire thing started, and all I want to do is crawl into a massive bed, lay down right in the center, and sleep until I can’t sleep anymore.”

    She smiles, “Most people would be panicking.”

    You shrug, “Something tells me it’ll come eventually. Probably when I’m least expecting it.”

    She nods, “It usually does.” There’s a moment of silence before she asks, “Want to get some food?”

    You shake your head, “I’m not really hungry.”

    She bumps your shoulder with her own, as though you’ve known each other your entire lives, “You need to eat. Something tells me that Hydra didn’t feed you the best food.”

    You grin, “I thought you said the food here wasn’t great.”

    “Still better than Hydra.”

    You smile and follow her to the cafeteria.

    You get more than a few stares as you move through the food line. Part of you feels like you’re back in high school, but the food is better. You and Natasha say very little, and for that you’re grateful. You aren’t sure what you’d have in common with a master assassin, and a part of you doesn’t want to know.

    You’re so focused on your food that you don’t even notice the eating area has gone quiet until they take seats on either side of you. They say nothing, you say nothing, and Nat stares at you with a shit eating grin on her face.

    After a moment or two she says, “Well this has been fun, but I should get going. I’ve got a lot to do and very little time.” Your eyes narrow, and you watch as she leaves.

    When she’s gone, Steve asks, “How are you feeling?”

    You don’t meet his eyes, “Better. The shower helped.”

    Clint smiles, “I’ve found that there isn’t a lot a good shower can’t help. However, some new clothes and a little shopping never hurt anyone.”

    You stand up and pick up your tray, they follow you to the trash, and you say, “I don’t have a ton of money at the moment, since I’m guessing there isn’t an interdimensional bank anywhere nearby.”

    They both smile, “We have money.” Steve assures you.

    “I don’t like handouts.”

    Clint shrugs, “It’s not a handout. What’s ours is yours.”

    “That sounds a lot like a marriage vow.”

    Steve crosses his arms against his chest, “In a lot of ways it is. These marks mean we’re supposed to be together. That we’re perfect for each other. And yes, marriage does typically come up at some point, but we don’t have to rush it.”

    You stare at them, “Don’t you?”

    Clint raises an eyebrow, “Clarification would be nice.”

    “Don’t you rush these things, you have these marks that appear at first touch telling you the person you’re meant to be with, why wouldn’t you rush it?”

    Clint smiles, “The marks provide an opportunity for us to be together, doesn’t mean it has to happen, or that we won’t have to work at a relationship. The marks mean we fit together, we’re the missing pieces of each other, but we still have to work at it. We’ll have fights, and disagreements, and I’m certain someone will sleep on a couch eventually, but we’ll also have a lot of warm moments, and good memories, maybe even some great ones. But at it’s core the mark represents a relationship that we have to put work into.”

    “And you want to do that by shopping?”

    Steve laughs, “You’re welcome to keep borrowing our stuff if you want. We like the way it looks on you.”

    You laugh, “Boys are the same no matter the dimension apparently.”

    A moment of silence falls among your trio before Steve asks, “So what do you say, want to put in some work?”

[whydontwe-fanfics]

Viva Las Vegas

Description - You attend the BBMA’s with Logan and the Why Don’t We Boys.

Logan Paul Vlog - MY BEST FRIEND PASSED OUT IN VEGAS!

Sometimes, staying with Logan was a living hell. And by sometimes - it's more so all the time.

You and your mom were staying at Logan's for a while, you and your mom taking Logan's bed while he slept on the couch. Why were you both in California sleeping in Logan's bed?

It was your birthday tomorrow and as a birthday surprise, Logan got you the ability to attend the BBMA's with him and a few others. Those few others being a music group called Why Don't We, who you weren't foreign with being that Logan's introduced you to them before and you've been in their presence on many occasions.

Your mom was staying back in Cali while you and Logan flew off to the awards, watching after Kong and Maverick.

Unfortunately, after spending an entire month away from your brother, you forgot how loud he could be in the mornings and every other time of the day.

A small groan left your mouth as Pam walked into the room, clapping your hands.

"Up! Up! Shower quickly! We’re gonna go get breakfast," she enthusiastically cheered.

"Why can't we just order?" You grumble, burying your head deeper into the pillow.

"I want to go out and you're coming with. Now hurry," she swipes the blanket off of your body and you whine in protest. It took you half an hour to finish showering and getting dressed, now you were doing your make up in the mirror that rested against Logan's wall. You sat with your legs crossed, applying mascara onto your eye lashes when Logan busted through the door with his vlog camera in one hand and Kong in the other.

"YO, LOOK! It's my sister! Out of bed and not sleeping! That's a first," Logan's voice booms as he points the camera at you and then himself.

"Oh shut up," you say, glancing down at your phone that played Pretty Little Liars on Netflix.

"Mom woke you up an hour ago," Logan points out.

"I'm aware," you hum.

"It took you an hour to get ready and you aren't even done, yet," Logan continues.

"Stop acting surprised, we've lived in the same house for fifteen years," you roll your eyes at him.

"Excuse me for still wondering why it takes you so long to scrub yourself with soap and throw on some clothes."

"It's a lot more than that," you scoff, turning on your bum to face him. "I have to wash my face, put on the creams that keep the acne somewhat away, wash my hair, blow dry my hair - which I haven't even done yet, straighten my hair, choose an outfit to wear and find out what kind of makeup goes with the outfit chosen," you explain as Logan just narrows his eyes, facing the camera to you and then him repeatedly.

"I'm sorry, all I heard was waste time, waste time and waste even more time," Logan shrugged before walking out of the room. You shook your head and went back to getting ready. An hour passed before you were done with everything.

"I could've sworn I said to be quick," Pam said from where she sat on the couch, looking back at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Quick isn't in my vocabulary," you tell her. "Hey, Jeff."

"Morning, Y/N," Jeff greets, looking up from his laptop for a second or two before going back to whatever he was doing.

"Kong's coming with us," your mom mentions and you nod before going to pick up the dog.

"Oh, wow, she's finally done," Logan says as he walks into the living room. He then turns to his camera and starts talking, your ears zoning out until you hear him start talking about the Billboard Awards. "So, yeah, I'm presenting an award at the Billboard Music Awards, correct?" He points to Jeff, who nods. "What is the award I'm presenting?"

"You're presenting the top social artist award."

"Great!"

"Justin Bieber-"

"Wa-wa-wait. Why is it not me? Am I right, social media artist award - HAHA," he points the camera to his crotch where he starts humping the air.

You shake your head with a small smile on your lips.

"And who are the nominees?" Logan faces the camera back on his and Jeff's face.

"Justin Bieber. BTS. Selena Gomez. Shawn Mendes," Jeff says.

"Ooh, hear that, Mama?" Pam is then brought into the camera. "You hear that Mom?"

"Can I come?"

"... sorry," Jeff is heard from the sidelines and you laugh.

"It's not your birthday tomorrow, Ma," Logan teasingly sympathizes.

"Sorry, Mom," you input.

"Alright, I'll just stay here and take care of Kong," she stomps her foot.

"I like that!" Logan hoots.

Another half hour passed before your mom headed to you, lightly slapping your knee which was bent and pressed again your stomach. "Alright, let's head out so you could be back here to finish up your packing before you leave," Pam grabs her purse off the table before going to hook the leash onto Kong's collar. You nod and hop onto your feet, heading to the door and unlocking it.

Getting breakfast didn't take long before you were back at the apartment and zipping up your suit case.

"Y/N hurry the f************ up!" Logan points his camera on you as he storms into the room.

"I'm done, you dimwit," you tell him, putting the last item into the side of your backpack, that being your phone charger.

"Well then let's get goin'," he rushes you. You both say bye to Pam and then temporarily Jeff, as he would meet you guys in Vegas. Logan and the boys scored a seat for you on the private jet they were taking, and you couldn't be more excited.

You and Logan get in the uber and he continues talking to his vlog camera. The uber stops at Logan's favorite smoothie shop and he goes to purchase one before you guys are back on the road again.

"Guys, I love smoothies, but you know what's better than smoothies? Private jets - YEHEHE! I am fortunate enough, along with Y/N, to be able to take one to Vegas today. Actually, with my lil bros, the Why Don't We boys - who I believe are actually right -" he points the camera out the window and points at the upcoming van before shouting "IN THERE!"

Logan hops out the uber and so do you. He heads to greet the boys while you pull the luggage out of the trunk. The boys hop out of the car that brought them and fist bump Logan.

"This is sexy!" Logan squeals, showing the jet to the camera.

A smile grows on your face as Jack and Daniel come skating your way.

"Whaddup," Jack skids by, high-fiving you in the process.

"Hey, Y/N," Daniel stops his skate board beside you just as Jack rides back and Jonah, Corbyn, and Zach appear as well. They all try to help you with the luggage but only two suit cases were in the trunk, so there was no need for them to do so.

Eventually, Jonah passed Logan his suit case and Daniel got yours out for you. You had stolen his skate board somehow as he got your luggage out, and rode it by the private jet as your Snapchated the scene, Daniel trying to catch up to you.

"What do you get when you cross a bunch of millennials and a private jet?" Logan asks his camera. "Hella Snapchats, bro. Hella content. Hella Instagram," he shows you and the boys all with your phones out, recording the moment.

Daniel eventually catches up to you and you go to swipe Jack's, but he knows what's coming and easily rides by you.

"Not today," he winked as you rolled with eyes with the smallest of smiles.

Eventually came the time when you all had to board the jet, and you stood beside Logan as he recorded the boys climbing on. You sat in the seat horizontally across from Jack and vertically across from Jonah, Jonah beside Zach and Logan with his back to yours, Corbyn and Daniel sitting on his side. (This isn't how seats are originally arranged in the video tbf)

25% of the ride to Vegas was spent trying to solve one of the boys' runic cubes while Jack and Zach had solved theirs at least twice. Another 25% was devoted to goofing around with Jack, Jonah, and Zach.

"Yo, there's snacks back here," Logan says loudly, causing you and the boys to all turn towards him, although you were the first one up to head over. Logan whips open his camera and began filming as you open a drawer filled with peanut packages.

"You guys, I’m exploring the plane right now, oh so many drawers! What we got, bro?" He turns the camera to Jack who opened the first drawer upwards. "We got plates! We got ice!” He opens a drawer filled with ice and miniature water bottles.

"Jackpot," you say aloud, causing Jack, Corbyn, and Logan to look at the top drawer that was filled with snacks.

"Whoa! We got Clif bars! We got brain food!" Logan shouts. "We got wet ones!" He and Jack point to the wet wipes. Logan then turns the camera to all the boys who were crowding the back. "They all came cause they heard we got wet ones." He then turns to the liquor on the top shelf. "Yo, lookie here, we got that good good. We got a lil alcohol right here," he takes a small whiskey bottle. Jack stealthily swipes the bottle from Logan's hand, but Logan laughs while taking it back. "No, no, no, you're underage, you're underage - but I'll do it, for you, though."

"You hate Whiskey," you scoff as you bite into a Clif bar before everybody cheers him on as he gulps the entire thing down.

"That's so bad," Daniel scrunched his nose.

"Yeah, you're right," Logan's face turns red as he coughs. "It's horrible. I don't like whiskey. I just did it for principle!"

You shook your head from your seat, opening your phone and checking the time as Logan continues exploring the jet with his camera. You flinch when you see something in your peripheral vision coming at you. A small laugh leaves your lips when you see that it was just your brother being the goof he is, doing a hand stand in the middle aisle.

For the rest of the flight, you, your brother and the guys all lounged around. For a few minutes, everyone just stood around as you all waited for the drivers to come pick you up - Jack and Daniel riding their boards around, Logan vlogging and you standing with Zach, Corbyn, and Jonah.

Some time passed before a van pulled up, Logan climbing into the front while you and the boys fill the two rows in the back, you sit in the very last row at the left end beside Corbyn whilst Jack, Daniel and Jonah sat in the row in front.

The ride to the hotel was loud, the boys singing 'The Song That Doesn't End" because Logan told them that you hated that song.

By the time you all reached the hotel, you were tired. And because Jonah was such a sweetheart, you were perched on his back, his hat on your head as he had his hands gripping the backs of your knees.

"Gotta love hotels. Something I love more than hotels? Seeing my lazy baby sister putting people to work to her benefit," Logan tells his camera with a smile before showing it to the scene beside him. You hid behind Jonah's head as he laughed.

"He offered!" You say.

"I was joking," Jonah scoffed.

"But look where we are now," you mention, causing him to shake his head with a small smile.

"I give it a week," Logan whispers to his camera, inaudible to both you and Jonah who are bantering back and forth. "I told the boys if the vibes are good this weekend, I'd put 10k on black," he says.

"You won't do it," Jonah smugly says as you slide off his back and onto your own feet.

"Ah-NOW I HAVE TO DO IT!" Logan roars.

You take Jonah's hat off your head and place it back on Jonah's head, being that he's the one who put it on you when he took it off to run his fingers through his hair.

"I'm ready to jump into my hotel bed," you sigh as you retrieve your suit case from the trunk before shutting it close and waving a thank you to the driver. He pulls off as Jack politely grabs your suitcase from you even though you didn't ask him to.

"It's alright," you smile at the kind gesture, going to take it from him, but he shakes his head and keeps the handle tight in his grip.

"I got it," he dramatically bows and you roll your eyes playfully.

"And they say chivalry is dead."

You and the rest of the guys head into the hotel and explore the hotel's lobby before actually heading up to your rooms. Logan goes to the boys' room before his own but you go straight to yours, collapsing on your bed and throwing your backpack on one of the chairs. Jack still had your suit case but you were too tired to go and get it. A few minutes passed with you just laying in bed and nearly falling asleep when you feel for bodies collapsing either beside you or on you.

A scream left your throat as you quickly sat up to see that the bodies that trampled you under them belonged to Logan, Jack, Jonah, and Daniel. Corbyn stood with Logan's vlog camera recording the whole thing and Zach laughing while clapping his hands and bending forward.

"I thought I was being jumped in my own hotel room," you huff, shoving Logan off of your bed completely, victoriously watching as he tumbles to the floor.

"Who would jump you?" Corbyn laughs.

"I don't know, how did you guys get it?" You question.

"I have one of your key cards," Logan state's as he hops up from the floor.

"Shouldn't you be at the stadium?" You ask Logan, whose eyes grew wide.

"Sh**!" Was Logan's last word before he grabbed his camera from Corbyn and scurried out of your room.

About an hour and a half later, you, Jack, Zach and Corbyn are chilling around in your room. Corbyn was watching your television because he says yours was bigger than his; Zach on his laptop at your hotel room's desk for no reason at all - just to be there; and Jack and you lied in weird positions on your bed as you scrolled through Tumblr on your laptop and Jack scrolled through social media on his phone. You lied on your stomach while Jack's head rested on your arched spine, his body lying horizontally while you were straight.

Jack's random laughing would be accompanied by you saying 'send it to me' and him sending it to you via Instagram, and then you laughing at whenever it is he sent. Then Corbyn and Zach would also laugh because Jack sent it to the group chat you guys had.

All was chill and calm until you heard Zach say 'no way' from where he sat.

"What?" Jack's head tilted backward, trying to see Zach.

"Daniel just found someone's underwear in the bathroom," he chuckled, springing out of his seat and running to the door. For no reason at all - just for the sake of being there, Corbyn, Jack and you rushed after him and down the hall to where Daniel and Jonah were hanging. Zach quickly knocked on the door and Daniel opened it.

"You saw my story?"

"I saw your story."

That's all that had to be said before you all walk in, Daniel closing the door afterward.

"What is it?" Jack asked.

"It's a pantie," Jonah said and you giggled at his uncomfortableness saying the word.

"Is it really?" Corbyn snorts as they make their way to the bathroom, but you stay back.

"You guys are acting like it's a dead rat," you chuckle.

"What if it has STD's?" Daniel murmurs from beside you.

"That'd be unfortunate," is all you say before making your way past the gawking boys and to the pantyhose that lie on the ground of the bathroom. "That's a pretty nice pair," you pout with a nod and risen eyebrows.

"You're not gonna take them, are you?"

"Ew, no, why the hell-" you shudder at Zach's question just before Logan barges in with his camera.

Bad way to end it, ik, but I wanted to ask what you guys want to see in the next part. Not only who you wants y/n to end with, but a scene you'd want between the two or something GO CRAZY. Posting this pretty late, I hope you all like it. And as always - Masterlist | Request Here