❝ my chemical romance, panic! at the disco, fall out boy and twentyonepilots imagines. ❞
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐖𝐍, 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐄.
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃:...
For: anon on Tumblr. Request: can you do a poly relationship with the reader, brendon, and dallon? I've been feelin pretty down recently, and if it could be fluff that would be awesome! ╚═════════════. .★.╝
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REQUESTS ARE CLOSED.
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Turning off the engine, you opened up the driver's door and stepped out of your car, then helped your slightly inebriated boyfriends out of their spots on the backseat. They weren't blackout drunk, only nicely buzzed, resulting in the two of them engaging in a languid cuddle session on the leather surface.
Resting your arm on the doorframe, you cocked your head to the side and gave a soft smile at the sight. "Oh, is that how it is? You're gonna hog each other? No cuddles for (Y/N)?" you teased.
"I'll give you more than cuddles, babe," Brendon quipped, shooting you a wink and untangling himself from Dallon before clambering out of the car.
"Promise?" you smirked.
"Promise," he nodded, leaning down to kiss you.
With a scoff, Dallon followed your partner's suit and exited the vehicle. "Now who's hogging, huh?"
Rolling your eyes, you brushed him off with a wave of your head and started up the path to the front door.
"Please, you guys get each other all the time while you're away on tour," you remarked, stopping in front of the door and turning to face your boyfriends, "And what do I get? Yeah, exactly, nothing. Open."
Two confused faces gazed back at you.
"I don't have the keys," they replied in unison.
Your face fell. "Are you kidding me? Neither do I!" You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, holding your arms out in disbelief. "What's wrong with you idiots?"
"What's wrong with us?" Dallon leaned forward and gripped his chest. "You always take the keys! It's your job!"
"Are you kidding?" you growled through gritted teeth, frowning at them, "I specifically said I wasn't taking them this time because I wasn't taking a purse tonight! You never listen to me!"
"Yeah, see, it is your fault because you know we never listen to you!" Brendon quipped, widening his eyes and pointing at accusatory finger at you.
The singer let out a yelp as he ducked to dodge the pebble you'd picked up and tossed at his head.
"I can't believe this," you groaned, shutting your eyes and rubbing your temples, "There's three of us. Three. That's one more than the typical couple, and you're telling me that not one of us remembered to take the fucking house keys?"
The musicians stood silent, awkwardly looking around. They knew full well that it was their fault that you were in this current predicament. You had told them you weren't going to take the keys, but they neglected to submit the important piece of information to memory – they had been too busy playing Fortnite.
Now, all three of you were stuck outside in the chilly night air at seventeen minutes past midnight.
"Hey, (Y/N)?"
"What, Dallon?"
"You still want that cuddle?"
"No, you dumbass," you answered aggressively, pacing up and down as you tried to come up with solutions, "What I want is to get into my freaking house!"
"Okay, okay, calm down, baby," Brendon soothed, stepping forward and rubbing his hands up and down your exposed arms. "We'll fix this, alright?"
"How?"
Brendon's face dropped and he turned his head to the side, looking at Dallon with a worried expression. "How?" he whispered.
"Let's book into a hotel for the night," the bassist suggested, speaking the first idea that come to mind, "You know, that really nice one two blocks west of main? Their sheets are made from Egyptian cotton and everything."
You pursed your lips. "That does sound pretty good..." you mumbled.
The guys, elated at the fact that you were on board with the idea, beamed widely at you and immediately began ushering you towards the car. They were beyond happy to keep you distracted and stop you from remembering the fact that this was their fault.
"Yeah, and we can order room service – strawberries and cream and chocolate cake..." Brendon piled on, placing a kiss on your shoulder as he opened the car door for you.
"They even have a spa," Dallon nodded enthusiastically, helping you into the driver's seat.
Smirking to yourself, you buckled up and prepared for the drive. You were well aware what the two of them were doing – trying to distract you from their transgressions was not a new thing – but you let it slide this time because hey, a night in a five star hotel? Who wouldn't?
"You had me sold at the sheets."
~
"You think they're gonna charge us for these?" Brendon queried, gripping the soft sheets between his fingers as he looked around the bed, "And... the rest of the bedding? 'Cause, I mean, they're gonna have to replace them. We kinda made a mess."
"Mmph," you mumbled, closing your eyes and snuggling closer to him, burying your head in the crook of his neck, "tomorrow's problem."
Brendon chuckled, then placed a couple kisses on your head as he pulled you closer into his bare chest.
"I love you, Bren," you said quietly, beginning to drift off into sleep, "Even though you never listen and are an idiot sometimes. Still love you. Very much."
Dallon re-entered the room at that point, drying his hands off on a hand towel from the bathroom. He barely made a sound as he treaded across the carpet, but you sensed his presence nonetheless.
"You too, Dall. I love you," you informed him, the last three words almost cloaked by a yawn.
"I love you more, babygirl," he smiled, crawling onto bed to kiss your forehead.
Brendon hugged you tighter. "Sleep well, baby." Your eyes fluttered shut and you gave in to the sweet embrace of sleep, the singer looking on lovingly as you settled.
Dallon got off of the bed and began tidying up the mess of clothing strewed around the room, folding them all up and placing them on the dresser for the next day. The last item he picked up was his jacket, and as he did so, something fell out of one of the pockets.
The bassist looked down at object and his eyes went wide. Bending down to pick it up, he called out to Brendon in a whisper.
"What?" Brendon looked over, his eyes widening at the sight of the keys in his boyfriend's hand, "Oh, my god."
Dallon stuffed the metal objects back into the pocket. He and Brendon looked at each other, then at your sleeping face.
