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visionarymode · 6 months

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Double Trouble

✧ warnings: smut, language, 18+

✧ pairing: jimmy uso & jey uso x female reader

✧ word count: 7,698

this is the second chapter of this little series with the twins, you can catch up & read part one Seeing Double here <3 this chapter was a lot longer than I expected it to be but I hope y'all enjoy! and yes... there will be one more for the finale 👀

₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩༺♡༻ ‧₊˚✩

Meet him upstairs in five? Five minutes? Why? What the hell did Jey say to him? Or maybe he didn’t mention anything, he just wanted to see you. You guys did have a hot and heavy make-out session in the bedroom before you got interrupted, by his brother. The same brother that just ate you out in the upstairs bathroom. While Jimmy was standing outside of that bathroom, not a single clue as to what was happening on the other side. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard to type back, but they couldn’t. You were so confused, drunk, and still racing from that orgasm upstairs. You couldn’t think straight. You felt your heart starting to pound inside your chest and realized you were literally on the verge of an anxiety attack. You pinched Jasmine’s arm twice. It was both of your guys’ secret way of calling for help when the both of you needed the other in situations like this one. She turned to you mid-laugh from the conversation she was indulged in, realizing you needed her, and grabbed your wrist to head out the door. The chilly breeze flew back your hair as she shut the door and walked with you halfway down the pavement.

“What’s wrong babe? You need the inhaler?” she asked, messily rummaging through her purse before she clumsily dropped it to the floor.

“No, no I don’t know. I just need air. I don’t know,” you rambled pacing back and forth hugging yourself to keep warm as the wind made you shiver.

“What happened? Did something happen? Did that bitch do something? I’ll beat his ass!”

“No Jaz, they didn’t do anything.”

“They?” she asked with furrowed brows.

You realized what you said and stopped pacing, looking back at her with a “yeah, I fucked up” look.

“Oh shit. They!” her jaw dropped at the realization.

“Shut up,” you warned her with a finger feeling her comments about to spring up.

“I didn’t even say anything!” she laughed taking a mini shot glass out of her purse.

“Girl what the hell is that?” you tried to hide your giggle.

“It’s my customized shot glass what do you mean?” You both busted out laughing, still clearly drunk and easily distracted.

“So they, huh? Plural? As in both of them?”

“Yes and no.”

“Girl how does that work?” she asked with a high-pitched tone.

“I didn’t fuck either of them,” you whined back at her, impatience adding its way in your already swirling emotions from her questions.

“So what happened then?!” she semi yelled, still giggly.

“Made out with Jimmy in the guest room and Jey ate me out in the bathroom,” you quickly splurged out as you covered your mouth acting like you heard that information for the first time yourself. She loudly gasped at your confession and started laughing.

“Girl, I didn’t know you got down like that period!” she shook her head, holding up her hand in the air so you could high-five her.

“What are you- put your hand down this is not a flex!” you hissed, pushing her hand back down.

“You living every girl’s dream babe, you fucking around with both twins! And they’re fine as hell!” she playfully snapped back. You covered your face at her hard-hitting comments and sighed.

“So what now? Was it a one time thing? Do you like one better?” she gasped in between questions.

“Jasmine! I don’t know. I-I like them both. They both make me fucking swoon-”

“Swoon’s a funny ass word,” she laughed. You kissed your teeth about to remark her statement before you heard the sound of the door opening a few feet away.

“Y’all okay?” Your head snapped to the front door to see Jimmy stepping out, walking towards the both of you. “You leaving already?”

“No- I just-” you stuttered, your phone slipping out of your hand and falling onto the cement. “Fuck!” you cursed under your breath, picking it up to check for any cracks, and sighed with relief to see that it was okay.

“Y/N just needed some air. She wasn’t feeling too good, she’s just drunk,” she quickly covered for you and you were so grateful for her saving your ass at that moment.

“Anyways I’ll see y’all back inside I’m freezing,” she started shimmying back to the door before turning around to shoot you a thumbs up with a wink.

“You okay? Yo anxiety actin’ up again?” he softly asked, reaching to run his hands up and down your shivering shoulders. The same way his twin brother did literally twenty minutes ago.

“No I thought I was, but I’m okay,” you hesitantly smiled, still attempting to read his indecipherable face.

“Come here,” he waved his hand over but stepped towards you instead to wrap his arms around you, his tall figure securely embracing your five-foot body. You sighed, hugging him back tightly, feeling a little bit of relief but that guilt still crept up in your mind.

“You get my text?” he mumbled in your hair. You opened your eyes as that same anxiety that withdrew from your body from his touch started sprinkling back in your blood.

“What text?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“I wanted you to come upstairs…” his hand stopped rubbing down your back and you felt your breathing start to escalate again.

“Jimmy-“ you began to say before he cut you off.

“Just come upstairs,” he sternly whispered in your ear before letting go of you and walking back towards the door to head inside. You stood there shocked and confused before he turned back around to look at you with a raised brow.

“Whatchu’ doin’? It’s cold out here get inside,” he playfully remarked extending his hand for you to grab. You sighed of relief and grabbed his hand as you both went back inside and up the stairs to the same bedroom you shared an intimate moment earlier. He shut the door behind him and your smile faded away as he almost coldly looked at you, searching your eyes for information as if he knew you did something to fuck up.

“Just sit,” he vocalized, nodding his head over to the bed. You slowly walked over and sat on the edge of the bed as he locked the door behind him, taking his sweet time stepping to stand in front of you.

“Jimmy I can exp-”

“Stop,” he sternly yet so quietly interrupted, still eyeing you below him. You got lost in his intimidating brown eyes for a split second and before you knew it, the alcohol decided to take a leap and you started word vomiting.

“I’m so sorry. It didn’t mean anything, we were both just drunk and it happened so fast. I didn’t know Jey was gonna come in like that-“

“Hol’ up. Hol’ up. Jey?“

You froze at his question, feeling your throat choke up. He had no fucking idea what you were talking about.

“W-What?” you asked back stupidly.

“Whatchu’ mean Jey?”

“I didn’t- Why did you call me back up here?” you switched topics, thinking back to his text to meet you up here.

“Because I wanted to chill with you? Pick up where we left off…what the fuck happened with Jey?” he spat. Your mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. You felt your heart racing and hands shaking as you nervously fumbled with them in your lap.

“Nothing I ju-”

“Did y’all fuck?” he blurted with furrowed brows.

“No! No, we didn’t.” You clarified, standing up to face him but that didn’t calm him any less.

“Then what happened?” he pressured you, sensing your bullshit answer.

“I-” you sighed looking down knowing you had to just get it out and there was no going back.

“I-I was in the bathroom. He came in…everything happened so fast, one thing led to another and he…gave me head,” you mumbled the last part looking back up to see his face filled with anger, then confusion, then hurt.

“Gave you head?! Was that before or after we were up here together?”

“After…” your voice broke from his harsh and offended tone. He kissed his teeth and turned his back on you to pace a couple of steps away from you, stressfully running his hand over his beard.

“Jimmy I-” Before you could finish your sentence he lowly mumbled something under his breath that you couldn’t make out and rushed to the door, snatching the doorknob open. You followed in pursuit but he was way faster than your short ass as he practically jogged down the stairs.

“Oh fuck-” you quickly realized this wasn’t going to end well and started running down the stairs but it was too late. Jey was in the middle of the room deep in conversation as he laughed, having a great time. That pretty smile was quickly taken away once he turned his head at his brother’s presence, and Jimmy threw a punch at his face. You gasped loudly and so did everybody else as all the men in the room surrounded them, trying to break them up as they started brawling in the middle of the room.

“What the fuck are y’all doing?!” Solo ran up from the kitchen trying to pull Jimmy off his brother and luckily was successful as he shoved him away from his other brother. Your eyes widened and you covered your mouth in shock looking down at Jey on the floor holding his face, glaring at Jimmy as two of his cousins started helping him up.

“Bitch,” he mumbled under his breath. He noticed you to the side and his face softened at your presence and worried look, his eyes moving back and forth between you and his brother quickly understanding what happened. He helped himself up and moved his way through the crowd, exiting the front door. You searched for Jimmy and saw him walking up the stairs.

“What the fuck just happened?!” Jasmine alarmingly reached for your arm, her voice barely heard from the crowd still rambling about what they just witnessed.

“Fuck,” you huffed making your way through everybody to head up the stairs. You peeked through the open cracks of the doors and then reached the second to last one on the right that was shut. The same bedroom you and Jimmy were in earlier. You lightly knocked twice and there was no answer. You knocked again, no answer. You turned the doorknob to check if it was locked and it wasn’t. You slowly opened it, peeking your head in to see Jimmy sitting on the edge of the bed chugging his beer bottle. You gulped as your anxiety started to rise in your body again, carefully stepping in hoping he wouldn’t kick you out.

“Can we talk?” you asked with a low whisper. He looked up at you and pointed to the empty space next to him with his bottle in response. You carefully sat down, as if you’d cause more harm just by denting the sheets with your sitting.

��I’m so sorry. I- I don’t know what I was doing I told you it happened so fast. I didn’t expect to share that moment with you up here and I sure as hell didn’t expect to do…that with your own brother. I’m sorry. I-I’m so drunk,” you sighed, giving up on explaining as your hands flew to your lap. He chuckled at your rambling and you turned your head to the sound in confusion at his reaction.

“What?” you asked.

“You stay talking too damn much when you’re drunk,” he laughed taking another sip of his beer. A smile slowly crept up on your lips, feeling relief and comfort from his sweet-tempered words.

“I can’t help it,” you mumbled looking down to fumble with your fingers. He noticed and grabbed your hand as they naturally enlaced together. He stared a little too long at your intertwined fingers and pulled his hand away, hunching down to look at the floored space between his legs as he ran his hand over his beard in deep thought. That smile on your face faded again, knowing he couldn’t just easily get over this. He had feelings for you, and you went ahead and fucked around with his twin brother.

“Jimmy…”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted you, looking back up to shrug his shoulders as if he was unbothered. You wanted to believe him, but you sensed that he didn’t even believe himself. Your mouth opened to speak but he took another swing of his beer bottle, drinking a little extra this time.

“S-So you’re not mad?” you asked as he shook his head and wiped some dribbles of his beer off his bearded chin. You watched him set his bottle down on the floor as you spoke up again, not understanding how he didn’t seem to care.

“Are you su-“ you were cut off as he abruptly grabbed your face and shut you up, his lips smashing against yours. You hesitated at first because it was a strong, forceful, hungered kiss…almost as if he was trying to take his anger out on you. But once he pulled you closer by the nape of your neck, sliding his delectable tongue in your mouth, you wasted no time sucking on it, helping him relieve the stress.

“Stop talkin’ and take these fuckin’ jeans off,” he mumbled followed by a bite on your lower lip as he unbuttoned your pants and zipped them down with lightening speed. You were so turned on you couldn’t even think straight, so you did whatever the hell he told you to do. You desperately panted against his parted mouth, slipping them off before he got up and stood between your legs.

“Get up on this bed and put your ass up for me…” he softly demanded, grabbing you by the throat as he looked behind you to show you where he wanted you. Your eyes didn’t leave his as you scooted back and turned around to get on all fours. Your breath shook as he ran his fingers up and down your drenched panties, his other hand palming your ass cheek before he groped you. He slid off your thong as you lifted each knee to help him. You felt his breath on your inner thighs as he spread open your folds, humming in hunger.

“This pussy is mine…” he muttered before spitting between your folds. You moaned as you felt his saliva drip down along your entrance before he scooped it back up with his tongue, making your knees buckle.

“Oh my god…” you gasped as he started lapping his tongue frantically, the loud sounds of it slurping over your wetness ringing in your ears as you quickly fell into a euphoric state. He squeezed your ass with both hands as he groaned, practically motor boating your pussy lips, dipping his tongue back in to lick you up.

“Shiiiiiit,” you whined as your face fell onto the sheets, your upper body collapsing as your ass was still in his grasp. He spanked you, surely leaving a red print making you clutch on the sheets beneath you tighter. He spat inside your lower lips again, this time more forcefully as you felt his saliva shoot against your hole before he came back to lap his tongue over the same saliva-stained spot. He repeated it over..and over…and over… until you shuddered and almost choked on your breath from how deep his face was buried in your ass, his lips never leaving your mess unless it was to heighten your pleasure with his spit.

“Jimmy…I-I’m gonna cum,” you first whispered until it turned into a high-pitched whine, making you move back on your hands to grind against his face. He lowly moaned, continuing to make out with your pussy as he spanked you again, jiggling your ass cheeks in his hands.

“Cum baby…cum…” he mumbled between licks and your orgasm came crashing down, your cries matching the frequency of his slurps as you squirted in his mouth.

“Good girl…” he moaned in satisfaction as he dedicatedly swallowed every shooting drop of your nectar.

“Fuck…” you breathed out as rocked your body away from his face, your head falling back down to your chest from blissful exhaustion. He chuckled at your reaction before you heard rustles behind you as he took off his joggers and boxers. You looked back at the sight, his long, thick, pretty brown dick springing out making you bite your lip and rocking your ass back in his direction. He smirked back at you before he spat on his dick to lubricate it some more. You watched it swirl down onto his tip that mixed with his pre cum, his big hand sliding it up and down his shaft as he leaned over you.

“If this is whatchu’ wanted you shoulda just told me…” he growled in your ear, as he hovered on top of your heated back, sliding his sloppy tip between your ass cheeks before gliding it further down to your wet entrance, sloshing it up and down your drenched mess. You couldn’t speak as he held your jaw in his hands, your mouth parted open with short, raspy moans rolling off your tongue.

“Pl-Please…” you begged as he teasingly brought his tip to your hole.

“Please what? Huh?” he pressured you, his lips grazing your earlobe as he started slipping his thick head inside your hole.

“I need you inside o-ooooh my gooooood,” you loudly moaned as he didn’t let you finish, instead slowly pushing half of himself inside you. He thrusted again, this time shoving his entire length in you. You felt your elbows slip on the bed, your head dropping down from how fucking good he felt. He brought himself back up, smoothing his hand down your back to push your face back into the sheets. His thrusts slowly escalated, and you felt him in the pit of your stomach each time he pumped his big dick in you. Faster, deeper, harder…

The bed started squeaking and the headboard was hitting the wall, surely if people were outside that door they would know damn well what was going on inside.

“You like that? You like this dick baby?” he groaned in deep pleasure, gripping your hips in place.

“Yesyesyes…” you moaned before you loudly gasped as he spanked you again, slowing down his elongated strokes.

“Where you goin’?” he hummed watching you trying to crawl away and grip the sheets above your head as they pulled off the mattress from your tight grip. He grabbed a handful of your hair to pull you back up on your hands. He picked up the steady, rough pace as his dick sloppily slid in and out of you, making your mind swirl with dizziness.

“Nah, get up you gonna feel every…inch…of…this…dick…” the sounds of his balls slapping against your skin filling the pauses between each word as he continued to pile drive his dick deep in your guts. You started seeing stars as your breath got caught in your throat, feeling your climax climbing up on you.

“I-I’m-“ you shakily whimpered.

“Yeah…he can’t fuck you like this, can he?” he lowly chuckled with a deep, sadistic tone that quickly turned into a moan as he felt your walls fluttering around his dick.

“Mmmm you gonna cum?” he shakily whispered back as he leaned into your ear. All you could do was nod, your eyes were low, mouth dropped open with ongoing cries as he cupped on of your breasts to then slither it down your stomach and over your sensitive clit to rub circles over it.

“Cum on my dick baby…” he moaned feeling you pulsate around his thick length that didn’t stop pounding in you. His sensual coaching in your ear was the last straw for you and your soaking pussy, your orgasm crashing down as you didn’t control your moan, after moan, after moan…after…

“Oh my-my gooooooood,” you cried as you felt a tear drop fall from your left eye. He fucked you so hard and so good that your eyes stung with tears, failing to keep up with his heavy rocks that practically sent you into a different realm.

“Fuck…” he moaned as he kissed your cheek, tasting your tear drop. You could feel your messy juices dripping onto the sheets in spurts, as he continued to pump you with his coated dick.

“I wanna taste you…” you whispered, faintly turning back to look him in the eyes as he held you by the cheeks with his right hand squeezing them open as his thumb shakily grazed your lips.

“Yeah?” he moaned as he slowly pulled out, jerking himself off as he grabbed you by the jaw again, making you spin around as you sat on your ankles, your legs spread open, playing with your clit as his tip fell on your tongue. He bit his lip watching you look up at him with innocent yet devilish eyes, his hand sloshing up and down his creamy and coated dick. You grabbed his wrist and took over, using both of your hands to stroke him until he let out a low, sexy grunt as his head fell back.

“Cum daddy…” you whisperingly pleaded, feeling his dick twitch in your palms, shooting white ropes into your mouth and across your cheeks as you moaned swallowing every drop.

“You’re so fucking sexy…” he groaned, as his hand slowly stopped jerking himself off, watching you taste every ounce of his cum. You wiped the corners of your mouth with your thumb, sucking off the rest as you smiled at him.

“Why you do this to me, huh?” he smirked grabbing your cheeks to kiss you, your juices blending with the swirls of your tongues.

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” you giggled against his lips as he grinned back, scooping you up his arms to throw you back on the bed.

✧✧✧

You both cleaned up and decided to stay in the room until everybody cleared out to avoid any awkward and tense conversations about what happened earlier. You texted Jasmine that you’d be sleeping over since Jimmy was staying over at Solo’s because they travel together for the upcoming live events. But he wasn’t the only one apart of their little carpool. Jey was also staying over. You hadn’t seen him since he was on the ground from Jimmy swinging on him.

You were showered and ready to go to bed. Ready to go to bed yet couldn’t. You kissed Jimmy goodnight as he spooned you in his changed and cozy sheets. He knocked out immediately. You don’t know how much time went by as you delicately caressed your fingertips up and down his sleeved arm that was wrapped around your waist. He was sound asleep but you were wide awake, staring at the darkened space in front of you. You couldn’t sleep. All you could think about was him. The image of Jimmy’s fist hitting his face kept replaying in your mind. You couldn’t toss and turn because you didn’t want to wake Jimmy up. You couldn’t just lay here like this. It was driving you insane. Maybe some water will help. You were thirsty after all, the only drinks you’d been having all night were alcohol. You slowly lifted his arm off of you and placed it at his side as you quietly stepped out of the bed, looking back to make sure he was still asleep. He was clearly exhausted. After the day he’s had, you didn’t blame him. You sighed and checked your phone on the nightstand. 4:10 am. You ran your fingers through your hair and out your face, quietly walking over to the door. You scrunched up your face as if it would silence the sound of the doorknob twisting as you opened it, shutting it behind you. You turned on the flashlight from your phone to head down the stairs. You remembered how Solo let you all know if you needed anything at all, you could just help yourself to his fully stocked fridge. You turned the corner to the kitchen when a silhouette appeared, the fridge light revealing his figure.

“Oh shit-” you quietly gasped, your hand flying to your chest. Jey turned around, wearing nothing but his boxers, closing the fridge door as he held a water bottle in his hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know-”

“You thirsty too?” he whispered, opening the fridge again to grab you a bottled water.

“Thanks,” you smiled, grabbing it to open it up. Your fingers stopped twisting the cap as your eyes landed on his very noticeable black and purple eye. You felt that guilt bombard your senses once again as your face dropped at the sight. Worry fell over you as you hesitantly stepped closer to cup his jaw and turn his head to get a better look.

“Oh my god…I’m so sorry,” you sighed feeling tears sting your eyes.

“Don’t. It’s not your fault stop that,” he kissed his teeth before gently grabbing your wrist, dropping it back down.

“Yes it is,” you whispered still looking at him nervously.

“No it’s not baby,” he furrowed his brows at your statement. You felt your skin tingle at the name. Your fingers were still entangled but you couldn’t let go. He stepped closer to gently wipe the tear falling from your face and pulled you to his chest to embrace you. You hugged him tightly, his warm bare skin comforting you as you listened to his heartbeat. He cradled your head in his hand, running it over your hair. Your fingers gently lifted on his back, running them up and down his soft skin making him sharply inhale.

“Get some sleep,” he mumbled against your hair, his hands dropping down your back to gently grip your waist to pull you away. Your arms only moved halfway off of him, still looking up at him. You both just gazed in each others eyes, his hand finding its way to cup your cheek. It was so quiet. Yet it was so loud. You could hear a pin drop. But you could also hear the sound of your heart beating inside your chest. The heart that kept beating for him when it wasn’t supposed to. His thumb softly caressed your cheek, as he peered down to your lips that you just licked. You tried to send the message with your eyes. You wanted him to read how desperate and loving they were. You speedily looked from his left eye to the right, trying to see if he received it. And he did. He pulled you in by the nape of your neck as your lips crashed together. You softly moaned at the return of his long, savory tongue in your mouth. The corners of your mouths quickly covered in saliva from the sloppy, needy, and yearning need for one another. You wrapped your arms around his neck as your breathing grew heavier. His panting just as rapid at the millisecond breaks your mouths took to turn your heads in the other direction in your make-out session. His hands dropped to the bottom of your oversized shirt to yank it up to your waist, grabbing a handful of your ass as it peeked out of your cotton pink cheeksters. You moaned in his mouth from his touch and he took that opportunity to scoop you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. He groaned at the feel of your drenched panties rubbed up against his stomach, hurriedly placing you on the kitchen counter. Your legs stayed wrapped around his torso as you almost fell back from your faces avidly crashing.

“Jey…” you whisperingly moaned as he grabbed you by the throat with one hand and cupped your breast with the other as he snaked his way up your shirt.

“Whatchu’ want baby…” he shakily asked between kisses as you continued to grind against his bare upper body, the pressure helping alleviate your need just a tiny bit.

“Fuck me please…” you panted as he dragged his tongue down your jaw making your back arch.

“Let’s go to my room,” he mumbled against your neck as he sucked your soft spot.

“No…I can’t wait,” you whispered as you pulled the hem of his boxers, slipping your hand inside the fabric to feel his hard, throbbing dick. He whimpered at your touch and your fingers lightly brushed the tip seeping with pre cum, making you breathe out another low-pitched moan.

“Mmmm please I’ll be quiet…” you begged in his ear as your thumb circled around his dripping tip.

“Nah…” he softly moaned as you dropped your hand along his shaft to softly stroke it.

“I’m gonna fuck this pussy up the way I want-“ he growled before scooping you back up in his arms as he quickly tip-toed up the stairs. You covered your mouth at his quick reaction as you bobbled in his arms as he went up every step. You shut your eyes refusing to look at his door, hoping no one caught you both sneaking off to Jey’s room that was the last door down the long hall. Before you knew it silence in his darkened room took over as he quietly locked his door and pinned you against it as he left sloppy sucks down your neck. You were out of breath as your eyes fluttered, heavily panting in the silence as he covered your neck with his saliva. Your fingers found their way in his hair, lightly pulling on it before a gasp popped out your mouth as he scooted you further up along the door to swirl his tongue along your collarbone and chest. You used your foot to push onto the door and get yourselves moving to the bed as he walked over not daring to remove his tongue off of you. He threw you onto the bed and you let out a giggle louder than you meant to, quickly covering your mouth as you realized.

“Thought you said you were gonna be quiet?” he playfully teased with a grin, as he towered over you, making you lean further back on the bed.

“Thought you said you were gonna fuck this pussy up?” you teased back against his lips as he slithered his hands under your shirt to cup your breasts.

“And I will…” he whispered, dipping his head back down to snatch the bottom of your shirt with his teeth, leaning back in your flushed face.

“Take this shit off,” he muttered with the fabric between his grillz, his eyes hyper-focused on your lips as his forefingers and thumbs twiddling with your hard nipples. A moan rolled off your tongue at his touch, as you crossed your arms grabbing the side hems to take off…Jimmy’s oversized shirt. But he didn’t even cross your mind. You suddenly forget Jey had a brother at all because he had your full undivided, horny, and yearning attention. You threw it across the room, watching his pretty enticing eyes peer from your left breast to the right, licking his lips ready to feast on you.

“Mmmm, you’re so fuckin beautiful…” he moaned, rubbing his big, smooth hands up and down your thighs. Slowly sliding them over your stomach as it sank in from the tingles, flattening his tongue on your right nipple as he delicately flicked it up and down while massaging your left breast.

“Oh my god…” your head fell back at the feel of his wet and warm tongue gliding around your nipple as he sucked on it. Your right shin fondled with the bulge in his boxers. The contact made him slide his tongue back up your neck and on your lips as he drove his tongue in your mouth, grabbing you by the waist to push you further back on the bed.

You cheekily grinned as you bit your lip, watching his long fingers grab his hard-on that was prominently peeking out of his boxers, his bracelet shining right at you as he rubbed up on his bulge.

“This whatchu’ want baby?” he whispered as he stared into your soul, his hand slipping inside to grab his length as he hovered on top of you, his chain tickling your chest.

“Yes daddy…” you naturally breathed out, the same name you called his brother just a few hours ago.

“Slip ‘em off for me baby,” he mumbled against your lips as he hooked his other finger inside the band of your panties to tug on them. Without a hesitant fiber in your being, you obliged, bucking your hips up to slide them off your legs and toss them across the room. You reached for his boxers to pull them down as he let you. His long, thick dick sprang out as the tip brushed against your tummy, the droplets of his warm pre cum sliding against your skin.

“This pretty pussy stay dripping for me huh?” he asked as his long, thick fingers found your slick folds, opening them up to roam up and down your mess, the same way he did earlier in the night.

“Fuck…” you whined as he sped up the vertical strokes suddenly replacing them with his creamy, dribbling tip continuing his up-and-down slides along your entrance. You gasped a little louder this time, the head of his dick inching its way into your hole.

“Shhhh…” he grabbed your jaw to make you look in his eyes as he slipped his entire length inside of you making you moan once again, louder than you expected. He pressed his lips against yours mid-moan in an attempt to shut you up, but the way his tongue slithered in your mouth only made your noises lose more control.

“Feel good baby?” he seductively mumbled as he slowly stroked his dick in and out of your doused pussy, his lips swiping on your parted ones with each thrust.

“Yessss so good…” you whispered as he picked up the pace, creating pleasureful flutters in your tummy with every push inside of you. The legs of the bed were so quiet yet soundable as they rocked against the hardwood floors. He frantically buried himself within you, your arms hooked under his shoulders, your nails digging into his upper back as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your walls were already so sensitive from how hard Jimmy fucked you earlier. It felt so so good but you winced a tiny bit at Jey’s similar aggressive thrusts that it made you croak out a cry.

“You okay baby? Too rough?” he breathlessly asked, his eyes lowly glazing over yours for any confirmation. You couldn’t speak as his dick quite frankly knocked the wind out your throat from your whispered cries, a tear falling down your cheek before he kissed it away.

“I gotchu’…I gotchu’ bae,” he reassuringly whispered, his hard and quick thrusts slowing down to gentle, deep, elongated strokes that made you shakily moan from this new, different, out-of-world pleasure that erupted sparks in your body that melted into the sheets.

“Oh my…gooood,” you moaned, your mind swirling with a euphoric, foggy sensation with how fucking good his slower strokes felt, dragging out the way his length nicely slipped between your walls that contracted around it, not wanting it to slip away.

“This feel good, hm? Nice and slow baby?” he deeply asked as he nuzzled his face in your neck, a small grunt falling from his lips.

“Yesyesyes,” your high-pitched, whispered gasp erupted as he hit your g spot ever so slowly with each delicate thrust. He left sloppy kisses down your neck, his grillz leaving little love bites that made you pull on the ends of his blue-tipped mullet. He grabbed your right thigh to scoop his arm behind your knee, giving himself more space to fill you up with every inch of his dick.

“Mmmmm…Jey,” you moaned, tugging a little harder on his hair as he hovered over you again, his breath hitching watching you in deep arousal.

“I…I…” you heavily panted as he hummed, almost agreeing with your unsaid sentence. Your right hand rested on the nape of his neck, as your left grazed over his bearded jaw.

“I love you,” he professed softly, fastening his strokes just by a little knowing that’s all you needed before your climax exploded throughout your entire body, making your legs uncontrollably fondle with his lower back. You felt his dick spasm between your sensitive walls as his forehead fell on yours, his moans a little louder than yours before you decided to shut him up this time as your lips weaved together. Your chests heaved against one another, a faint smile forming on your lips as your eyes barely stayed open. You stayed in the same position for a little while, just admiring each other’s eyes before he softly kissed you again, making your cheeks flush as your fingers grazed his sweaty, glistening back.

“Don’t tell me this dick knocked you out, wake up baby,” he jokingly whispered, tilting your chin up and forcing you to gaze up at him.

“I’m awake,” you mumbled with a grin.

“Man…you’re so perfect,” he complimented, still slightly panting.

“Shut up,” you giggled, feeling overwhelmed with his loving presence. There was silence before you noticed the sunrise starting to peek out from the curtains as it accentuated his face. The black eye was nothing compared to his vibrant and pretty features. Your thumbs caressed over his lower jaw, his beard hairs smoothly prickling against your skin.

“I have to go back…” you lowly whispered, feeling a tug on your heartstrings watching his smile fade away as he nodded in agreement.

“Let me get you a towel first,” he whispered, pecking you before getting up and walking towards the bathroom. You sighed, resting your palm on your forehead feeling a mixture of emotions. You really fucked both of them. You really fucked both Usos. You weren’t gloating, just extremely confused about your feelings. Sleeping with Jimmy for the first time after so many years of light-hearted flirtatious moments was great. The sex was appetizingly filthy, rough, and electrifyingly steamy. But with Jey…it was more passionate, comforting, more so making love to one another. And the three words that fell from Jey’s mouth…made you melt. The twins have always told you they loved you and you’ve always said it back. But this was most definitely different.

“Psst.” You snapped out of it and turned to see Jey walking out with a towel around his waist, another in his hand as he pretended to shoot his shot at you, literally. You caught it with ease and shook your head at his goofy ass. You cleaned up and slipped your oversized shirt back on, almost feeling dirty, in a guilty way, fucking one brother then putting the other one’s shirt over your head. You tied your hair in a messy bun and tip-toed to the door, the sun’s golden light more luminous in the room as it highlighted his face.

“You gonna sleep?” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Nah. Gon’ hop in the shower…you could join me if you want,” he softly expressed, grabbing a handful beneath your shirt.

“Tempting, but I can’t,” you giggled as he lightly spanked you and scoffed at to answer. You stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like forever before you shared one last flavorsome, soft, and passionate kiss.

“Yeet,” you whispered turning back around one last time as your hand grabbed the doorknob. He chuckled, holding on to his towel.

“Yeet,” he threw back with a wink and you departed as you looked left and right in the hallway before stepping out. You reached Jimmy’s room, the door slightly squeaking as you turned the knob, making you curse under your breath. You peeked in, seeing him still asleep. You blew a little air out of your mouth, relieved that he was clueless. You climbed back in, making him stir in the sheets as he grabbed you by the waist to pull you closer. You dozed off, your brain playing hopscotch with the two brothers.

✧✧✧

The following morning the boys had to leave for the airport for their live events. You ended up heading back home after having brunch with his Solo’s wife. The next following weeks were…chaotically indulging. If you weren’t with Jimmy, you were with Jey. If you weren’t with Jey, you were with Jimmy. You spent Sunday and Monday nights in Jey’s hotel room for Raw. You spent Thursday and Friday night traveling to Smackdown with Jimmy. Your weeks consisted of one twin pulling on your hair while you got pounded from behind in his locker room while the other fucked you against the steamy shower walls, both drenched from the hot water. They didn’t know about your rendezvous with the other twin…or so you thought. You picked up on the feeling that they secretly knew, because Jimmy didn’t call you on Sunday or Monday nights. Jey didn’t call you on Thursday and Friday nights. They just knew you were the other. And to think it wouldn’t get even more chaotic, you were at backstage at Fastlane where they both had matches. You were watching on the monitor set up in Jimmy’s locker room as Jey and Cody won the tag team titles, the biggest smile spreading on your lips knowing he was now a 2x undisputed tag team champion. You wanted to so badly find him and congratulate him right after, but you were with Jimmy up until his match. The match were him and Solo lost. Jimmy was crankier than usual, and you knew it wasn’t just because of the feeling of losing that match. That loss hit differently because he felt like he was falling behind his twin brother, not only in the ring but with you. You hated that he was in a mood the night before your birthday. You were throwing a big party, where everybody was invited. And to unintentionally make the situation a little harder for Jimmy, he didn’t expect Jey and Cody to show up with their tag titles gloating through the crowd.

“They what?” you asked, your jaw dropping at Jasmine telling you what was going on downstairs as the guests started picking up.

“Yeah girl, Jimmy still sitting in that corner drinking his beer. You gon’ come down or what we waiting on you!” she exclaimed watching you add a touch more of highlight on your nose. You heard her sniff and you looked at her through the mirror, dramatically holding her hand up to her mouth.

“Are you crying?” you turned around with a little laugh.

“You look so hot and you’re getting older, do you blame me?” she patted her tear away to avoid ruining her makeup. You giggled getting up from your stool to hug her as you felt tears sting your eyes.

“Fuck now I’m gonna cry,” you choked out before she broke the hug.

“No no no. You worked too hard on this makeup. I’m not crying anymore. Go put that sexy ass dress on so you can come down!”

You changed in your purple sequined lace-up tube body con dress, fluffed up your hair, and put on your necklace and diamond earrings.

“You can open your eyes now,” you giggled before you gave her a little twirl and she started loudly clapping.

“Oh my god, bitch you look stunning!” she hyped up. “Now let’s go down everyone’s wondering where you are.”

“Wait,” you grabbed the shot glass from your dresser and poured yourself some tequila. You couldn’t go down there sober. Not when they were both here. You’re winced from the sizzling burn in your throat. You walked out with Jasmine down the stairs, the music blasting, and everyone was happily conversing and drinking.

“Heyyyyy there she is!”

You giggled at everyone’s dramatic reactions continuing to walk down the stairs, giving hugs to everyone around as they wished you a happy birthday. You clanked your way to the kitchen to grab more drinks from the fridge, your heels already annoying you.

“God…damn,” you hear a deep and sensual voice slightly startle you as you peeked above the fridge door still bent down with beers in your hand. Jey stood there with the sexiest smirk on his face, goofily dropping his eyes back down to your ass in the air as it peeked out of your tiny dress.

“Shut up,” you giggled, closing the fridge with your heel, two bottles in each hand.

“Let me get those for you,” he walked closer to grab them out of your hand and placed them on the counter before he gripped you by the waist, your lips inches away. Your breath hitched in your throat from his sweet cologne, his wet pink lips that he just licked as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, admiring your beauty.

“Happy birthday beautiful,” he whispered before planting a nice, soft, and slow kiss on your lips. You moaned as your tongues naturally slipped into each other’s mouths, his hand sliding its way from your waist to your ass to grope you.

“Thank you…” you breathed out, grinning against his lips.

“Trus’ me this dress is…mmmmm…but I wanna rip this shit off and bend you over this counter right now,” he mumbled, biting your lower lip causing another moan to escape your lips as his grillz sank down on your glossy lips.

“Later…” you whispered with a giggle trying to remove yourself from his grasp to get back to the drinks when the kitchen door opened, making you both turn your heads at the interruption. Luckily your bodies weren’t in touch anymore because with the way he raised his brows at the both of you, you figured he knew what was going on.

“Well well well, what’s goin’ on?” Jimmy asked, clearly drunk as he crossed his arms. Jey kissed his teeth, turning his back on his brother as you let out an annoyed sigh.

This was gonna be a long fucking night.

✧✧✧✧✧

thank you so much for reading! I appreciate it if you read through the entirety 💖✨

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flashbangstars · 3 months

Text

NCT Dream if they were your roommate (college edition) <3333

in honor of it being the first day of classes for a bunch of my fellow college friends, I wanted to give y'all a little something. I'm also currently writing this while in zoom classes. This divulged into just plain old roommates too lol

Mark

mark was actually pretty good at waking up, you were up before him for a zoom geology class so you would always hear him in the mornings

mark always showers first and will play justin bieber's entire fucking discography in the shower

he also locks you out of the one bathroom you have even though you both have to leave at the same time so you're just kinda fucked

he claims its to preserve his innocence, but you have a black shower curtain you can't see through. so he's just being a princess

he only wear sweats to class, but somehow you are always done before him

you once got into a fight because you were wearing the sweatshirt he wanted to wear, so he made you take it off in the entrance of the apartment and switch with him

he insists on walking you to class because "it's what a gentleman would do"

you two DO NOT beat the dating allegations because of this

he will ask people leaving your class if you are still in there when it ends so people call him "the hot guy who waits for y/n"

it honestly boosts your ego so you're not complaining

your not sure if he's aware of his reputation, since he's so painfully oblivious, but you're not gonna tell him

without fail, every time your on the bus on the way halfway through, he will look up with wide eyes and tell you what he forgot and how badly he needs it, so without fail you will end up going in between your classes since he doesn't have a break to go retrieve what he needs for classes

it almost always is his computer charger and his notes

and it's almost always thrown on the floor by his bed, where he had been studying the day before

will ask every single day if you can walk to the further bus stop "because it's so nice out" and will act like a toddler who just went outside for the first time touching leaves n shit

Renjun

he is 100% more put together than you

he wakes up every morning 2 hours before he has to leave (you wake up to his alarm so you know)

he will shower, get dressed, and still have enough time for breakfast, AND still LEAVE EARLY ENOUGH TO STOP FOR COFFEE

he has tried to get you to join him in this lifestyle, to no avail

what happens is he will drag you out of bed at the same time he wakes up and you just end up getting into his bed while he is getting ready, and then wake up an hour later when he comes to harrass you again after he's done getting ready.

you look like a gremlin compared to him when you're leaving, you usually go to your classes in sweats and with your hair in a clip.

meanwhile he is in a whole coordinated fit that he set out the night before to wear

you both have your desks in the common room off the apartment and it's pretty funny to both of you because your set ups are so obnoxiously different, his is all white and sleek, and yours looks like a rainbow threw up on it

whenever you take the bus to class in the mornings, he will let you nap on his shoulder for the 15 minute ride and will wake you up one stop before you get off.

he will pre-order your coffee with his, (he has your order saved on his phone, and never makes you pay him back, he just makes you pay for the boba you stop for after class

he whines when you stay up really late because your keyboard is noisy

and if you still have to get work done, he will pull up his desk chair beside you with a blanket and will sit with you until you are done. he will fall asleep despite the claims it's too noisy but will refuse to go to bed if you tell him it's ok

and its funny because he doesn't look like a little angel curled up on the chair, he looks like a grandpa with wire glasses on

LOWKEY HE LOOKS LIKE THE CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY GRANDPARENTS

Jeno

you met on a facebook page for your university when he posted about needing a roommate

he didn't know you were a girl until after you had moved in, he doesn't mind... but when you walk into your apartment shirtless to a female rearranging the coffee cups it's a bit jarring

he has now grown to say you act more like a guy than most men he knows

since you're a engineering major you've never actually seen the sun, so he makes you take walks with him when he gets back from classes so he knows you're getting clean oxygen

he calls you his little plant, and takes you on "photosynthesis walks" ... you don't get it either

he will leave his gym water bottles out on the counter, like the ones with the little shaker ball in them, he has like 17 of them

he will knock and wait outside your door for you to open it despite you yelling come in multiple times, since he walked in on you changing once

he is like a little housewife when you are gone

when you went away for a competition, you came back to the kitchen cleaned, bathroom cleaned, and he had made dinner for you two

the whole experience itself was entirely too romantic and only made you two incredibly confused for the following day

he will lay in your bed while you are working and play with the cats claiming "they miss you" to get you to stop working

you pick him up from class everyday on the way to yours and he will run like a little school girl over to you when he sees you in the hallway

and then will come with you to get coffee before your class because he missed you and won't see you until later tonight

Haechan

the biggest drama queen you've ever met

on the first day of the semester, he made you two take first day of school photos with like little signs

you and him have the same schedule for classes since you're the same majors

he will ask if you two can match outfits, and will insist he gets to choose what color you wear

when you have time in the mornings, he loves to take the long way to classes, to stop for coffee and talk.

he sits next to you in the two classes you have together and will depend on you to take the notes

he's an ipad note taker, so you have to listen to him slamming his apple pencil into the screen while taking notes

he calls you grandma because you take paper and pencil notes, but mostly you know its because he's jealous because you can write in cursive

he will come into your room while you will be laying down and won't even ask he will just sit on the bed and start talking as if it's his fuckin room, shoving his phone in your face when he wants to show you things

one of the things that drew you to the listing was that... he had a car.....

he knows you pimp him out for his car but he's fine with it

he drives you to school in the mornings and you have solidified your passenger pimp status

since you've become friends with his friends too, they always bitch because you automatically get shotgun since you live with him

when you two go grocery shopping and Haechan refuses to get anything off brand, but then proceeds to bitch when the whole thing is expensive as hell

he gets bored being in the house, sometimes you will come home to him rearranging the fridge

sometimes its the bathroom

and that one time it was your fucking room you literally couldn't find anything for a week straight and would have to ask him to come in and find things for you

Jaemin

you and him had met your freshman year because you lived doors that opened opposite to each other

You had decided to live together after spending a year greeting each other in the mornings before classes

Jaemin was actually a really great roommate, he cleaned, he cooked and he wasn't annoying to be around

the other nice part was that he was stupidly hot

he was one of the few men you knew who had a skin routine that took up half the sink and he had hair products in the bathroom as well

Jaemin also was weirdly overly touchy with you.

he would hug you from behind while you were cooking, he would pull you into his lap when he would be sitting in the living room etc.

it was weird, but honestly im not gonna lie with the freakshit jaemin did you weren't surprised

he spent on average 200 dollars a month at a coffee shopcbuying a like 15 (4) espresso shot drink. and would drink like 2-3 a day

it had to be like macro dosing caffeine at this point

you would wear Jaemin's sweatshirts all the time since when you would forget one, he would literally give you the one off his back

nobody ever thought it was his though, because they almost always have fucking kittens with halos on them

you will come home somedays to him laying in your bed on his phone, like deadass snuggled up in YOUR covers

his excuse was always that your comforter was warmer and that "you wouldn't want him to freeze"

dude will sit in your lap when you're at the desk sometimes, and his shit is BONEY hurts like a bitch!

you are not bABY you are a GROWN MAN

one day he walked out in a outfit you thought was really cute, turns out.. it was literally your clothing. pants and top. underwear is a toss up if he was feeling freaky that day

claimed "we do laundry together, mix ups happen" how do u mix up underwear. WAS THE VICTORIAS SECRET LABEL NOT ENOUGh

Chenle

Chenle was a little bit of a mess, but god we loved him still!

He made adult money but swore he didn't want to deal with the stress that came with cleaning/managing a apartment all to himself

he insists that you let him pay for all of the utilities since he made you get an apartment with a elevator because he would rather die than have to carry all his things up stairs to the apartment

He leaves a trail of his things from the front door to his room so its like hansel and gretel but instead of bread crumbs its his fucking pants

yall have a shower curtain with steph curry on it, originally you would have thought it was a boner killer for the guys you brought over... but it does the opposite....

chenle also doesn't give a fuck if you're in the bathroom, especially when you are showering. he will walk in proceed to do whatever he needs to do and then will purposely flush the toliet so the water gets cold.

BUT WHEN HE SHOWERS HE LOCKS THE DOOR.

you think its because he beats it, but how can one tell you know

but also walls are thin and you swear you haven't even hear a single whimper from this man

and tHAT IS SUSPICIOUS FOR HIS HORNY ASS!

he touches all up on his friends with no shame!

he swears he should get a say in who you date because he is "father" you don't want divulge into whatever that means

one of the last weekends his friends watched you come in with one of your guy friends and go to your room and then you heard them proceed to lecture chenle on why was he okay with a man going into your room with you

just for them all to be utterly confused when he tells them you two aren't dating

a simultaneous "HUH?" sounded in the living room

and when you walked out to grab water and also... eaves drop one of them pointed at you and went "what do he mean you aren't dating?" in a accusatory tone

and the other joining in with a "freaks!"

that night you had a late night knock your door after everyone had left

Jisung

you and jisung were randomly selected roommates, Jisung swears he didn't know he pressed "ok" to both genders

to be for real tho he agrees it isn't even that hard to live with you

Jisung is crazy because he makes zero sound in the apartment

you have been jumped scared by a 6 foot tall emo man more times than you would like to admit

You will be home for over 3 hours and then turn around and he will just be standing there

he always feels so bad though when he does scare you, he once joked he would wear a bell so you could hear him throughout the apartment

for a week you made him wear a bell, it got weird because he almost wore it out of the house, bell got retired to a drawer

Jisung will fall asleep literally anywhere in the apartment, like literally anywhere

you once tripped in the living room because he was sleeping FACE DOWN on the carpet

bro sleeps like a limp spaghetti noodle

you've walked into him asleep on the coffee table

hes also fallen asleep and mid sleep grabbed your wrist, and literally refused to let go??

like his you couldn't pry his cold dry hands off of you??

he's weirdly quietly possessive, whenever you two go somewhere he will have some extension of his body on you, in your apartment with friends over he will stretch a sleeve of his sweatshirt and lay it ontop of your thigh to lay there limp

he will grip you by the wrist not the hand when hes trying to keep up with walking with you

one time when you.. didn't actually know if he was in the apartment you found a brown paper bag outside your door, inside was several pairs of your black underwear and a note saying "im so sorry I washed them with my black clothing and they were in my room" he literally couldn't look at you without turning red that night in the kitchen

-----

once again I have not proofread anything xoxo

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criminalskies · 9 months

Note

ROME!! I’m so happy you’re back! I was worried for a hot minute there 😂

I have kind of a strange request, but I was wondering if you’d be able to do a Hotch x BAU FemReader based on the song Walk Me Home by P!nk?

I thought it could be really fitting if they just back from a difficult case or something. I know it’s kind of a different request, so no pressure of course! I just love your writing and thought I’d ask :)

WALK ME HOME.

Word count: 3.3k.

Pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

Author's note: ** this is not proofread, I just assaulted my keyboard with this song in mind. Hopefully the message shines through!** I love this idea! and I'm so happy you've found me again sweetheart

Tags: @montyfandomlove , @ssamorganhotchner , @hotchnerbau , @hotchs-babygirl , @beehive16 , @canuck-eh , @pastanoodles11

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Hotch sits in his office at the BAU with his head in his hands. The team had just landed from a child abduction case in Oregon, and up against a ticking clock, they were unable to save the last victim. Little Charlie Parker. Hotch looks down at his hands, hating the tinge of red he can see staring back at him that he knows isn’t really there. He was the one trying to keep the little boy’s blood inside his body as Morgan screamed for a Medic, having shot the unsub down. Most of the team went out to drink and dance their sorrows away, a few of them electing to just trudge home to bed. But Hotch couldn’t peel himself out of his chair. He couldn’t go home to his house full of Jack’s toys, scattered just like they had been in Charlie’s room after he was taken. Knowing he was never to return and that his blood is on Hotch’s hands is eating away at him. He resolves to finish all the paperwork tonight, hoping he’ll never have to think about this day again afterwards.

He’s halfway through his casualty report, the words beginning to blur together when your soft knock against his office door pulls him from his trance.

“Yes. Y/N?” He prompts you, trying very hard to pull his face into his usual frown and hide the storm clouds swirling behind his eyes. You’re always a bright spark in this office, he would hate to dull your sparkle with his own all-consuming darkness he can feel brewing in his heart, beginning to circulate his body, he hides the way he can feel his every artery beginning to pulsate with the familiar, dull aches of disappointment and fear.

“I just wanted to bring you something comforting.” You saunter over to his desk, placing a steaming hot cup of tea before him. “I hope you don’t mind, I was just watching you from my desk and, well. You look like you could use a friend, right about now. But you’re busy, so a nice drink will have to do.” Hotch notices you fiddling with the hem of your skirt as you offer him a worried smile, you’re trying to take care of him. His chest warms at the realization but his mind flips the switch on him.

“My youngest agent, new to the field, is trying to look out for me? I think these things are supposed to go the other way, agent Y/L/N.” He doesn’t miss the flash of worry behind your eyes that you think you’ve overstepped. He sees you take your wrist in your other hand, squeezing it to stop its trembling. “I appreciate you looking after me. Very much. Thank you.” He tries quickly to reassure you that he’s not insulted, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. He feels rather flattered to know you think about him enough to want to help. It isn’t often people take it upon themselves to care for their boss.

“It’s nothing, really. But Hotch, it’s past midnight, are you planning on sleeping in your own bed tonight?” His head whips down to look at his watch, he has no idea how three hours had gone by working on a report that should never take him longer than one hour, he lets out a sigh he hopes you don’t hear and rubs a hand over his brow, attempting to smooth it. “You don’t want to go home, do you?” Hotch really hates working with profilers when he’s waging war in his own mind. You can always see straight through him. You’ve only been here a few months but already you can read the stoic leader like an open book. He’s much too tired to keep up an act that’s anywhere near believable, so he settles on telling you the truth, or at least half the truth.

“I’m not looking forward to it, no.” He keeps his eyes trained on his pen in his hand instead of on you. He can bear to show you this much of himself, but he’s not sure he can handle seeing the pity flood your eyes when he does. When you don’t reply, instead moving around the room, he’s forced to look up. But he doesn’t see pity or even sadness behind your eyes, instead he finds resolve. You’re packing his manila folders into his briefcase neatly, ensuring you mark where he had them open to with a clip. “What’s happening?” He hates how small his voice sounds, but he’s far too tired to analyze why you’re packing his desk up at this hour.

“We’re gonna go home, Hotch.” He tries to blink away his confusion, his mouth falling open and closing again as he tries to find the right words to ask. “Calm down, honey, I don’t mean it like that. But we’re gonna go to my place. I can’t let you sleep on this couch. You’ll be grumpy with us all week because your back is more kinked than a pretzel. Consider this a public service.” Hearing you call him honey and express your concerns for his chiropractic health are doing nothing to aid his fried brain. He still can’t summon any coherent words to combat your accusations of him being grumpy.

“Okay.” He mentally smacks his head on his desk for being reduced to such a bumbling idiot so quickly by you, but it is getting late and he hasn’t slept well all week. He’ll let this slide. You can’t help but think how adorable he looks with his jaw slack with surprise and his thick lashes batting at you in his tired state. You go to his coat rack, bringing his coat over to him and helping him get an arm in each sleeve, you carry his briefcase out for him. He feels himself following you as if he’s floating above his weary feet. He elects not to worry yet about the fact that he’s only known you three months and yet he would probably follow you anywhere you ask.

You lead him to the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor.

“Aren’t we going home? We should go to the parking garage, then.” You swat Hotch’s hand away as he reaches to press P1.

“No, silly. I only live a ten minute walk away. I don’t drive here unless there’s a thunderstorm outside.” Hotch’s eyebrows shoot up at the realization he’s been unknowingly letting his new recruit walk herself home in the dark so late at night, when your place is on the way to his. How could he have never offered you a ride home? He never noticed you don’t bring your car keys or ride up from the parking levels with him in the mornings.

“Oh, of course. Well then, I’m glad I can walk with you. I wouldn’t want you alone this time of night in the city.” Hotch doesn’t miss the way a hue of pink works its way up your cheeks, warming your face.

“You’re not walking me home, Hotchner. I’m walking you home. Come on” the doors ping open to the ground floor and you take him by the hand, leading him out of the elevator. His eyes are glued to you as you smile at the security guards, giving them a wave. Clearly, this isn’t your first time leaving after midnight, if you’re this friendly with the guards. Then again, he muses, maybe this is just the way you are with people. You care for everybody so genuinely, so fully. You offer people nothing short of your full attention. As you push open the front doors of the building, feeling the cool night air dance around the two of your bodies, Hotch’s attention is drawn to his large hand in your smaller one. He can feel the darkness that wanted to overtake him earlier pooling away from your touch, the light in your body warding off the shadows in his.

He wipes his other hand against his coat, still thinking he can now see that red tint under the dim streetlights. You must have felt his grip on your own hand tighten as you turn to look at him. He looks at the ground, not wanting you to see the waves of guilt crashing over him as he visualizes Charlie’s lifeless body on the pavement, he can feel the wet crimson blood on his hands, pooling between his fingers as-

“Hey. What’s going on in there?” You bring your hand holding his briefcase up to point at his temple.

“I just can’t stop thinking about the case. If we’d gotten the address even five minutes earlier, we could’ve saved Charlie. I could’ve-”

“No, Hotch.” You stop, dead in your tracks, grabbing his lapel in your fist to shake some sense into him. “There was nothing we could have done. We didn’t kill that boy. Harry Mulligan did. He would have done the same exact thing the moment he realized we had him surrounded, whether we were five minutes earlier or five hours earlier. He was a sadist and he would never have let Charlie escape that unharmed. Hotch, we did everything that we could.” You let go of his lapel, smoothing your hand over it now. “You did everything you could, Aaron. Everything. Because of your quick thinking that man is never going to be able to harm another child again.” Hotch finally looked down at you when you used his first name, seeing not one flicker of doubt on your face. You really believed what you were saying, and he trusts your opinion. He nods his head, closing his eyes. You can see he’s biting back tears as he lets out the first full breath since he set foot into the unsub’s home.

Hotch’s breath gets caught in his throat as he feels your arms encircle his waist, the side of your face colliding with his chest. He brings his arms up around you as well. You barely hear his quiet ‘thank you’ whispered into your hairline as the two of you stand there for a moment, basking in each other’s comfort, before you break away from him, keeping one arm tucked around him, you sniff and start walking, pulling the man beside you. He keeps his arm around you as well, choosing to deal with the professional repercussions of physically embracing his employee tomorrow. For now, the two of you need some sleep.

Aaron breathes in deeply, smelling fresh cut grass from the gardens outside your neighboring apartment building as he decides to let himself enjoy something nice for once, and not turn it over and over in his mind until his image of it becomes twisted and dark. He’s going to let a good thing be. He’s going to let someone help him. Of course, he’ll do everything in his power to return the favor to you in turn, but for now, he’s just going to bask in the light you’re offering him, instead of crawling back to the darkness.

You open the door to your apartment, switching on the lights and running into action to pick up some stray takeaway containers and a discarded t-shirt off the couch and coffee table. “Sorry for the mess” you say, embarrassed that your perfectionist boss who definitely neatly irons and folds his underwear – is seeing your messy apartment.

“Don’t be, Y/L/N. It’s perfect.” He looks around, seeing all your colorful paintings and plant pots, with lush greenery around the space, he breathes in the beautiful floral smell from your diffuser as you flutter about the space, switching on all your warm lamps, which cast the most beautiful, soft light around the rooms. He wonders how it is that your place feels twice as homely as his own house does these days, and this is only his first ever time setting foot inside of it. That’s just the person you are, he supposes. You’re the kind to always have out fresh cut flowers in the living room, fresh baked cookies in the kitchen, you’re never unprepared to make someone feel warm and welcomed. It only seems fitting that your apartment is the same.

“Okay. Well, I have a guest bedroom, which has blankets, spare pillows, toothbrush, razors, some drinks in the mini fridge, face masks, anything you need, really. It’s right this way.” You start down the hallway, flicking on more salt lamps, illuminating more and more of your very warm welcoming home. The guest room is no exception, evidently stocked with everything a guest could want, the bed looks so inviting, the plush linen pulled back, ready for Aaron to just climb in and rest his weary bones.

“This is amazing, thank you.” He turns to look you in the eyes, hoping you can see the enormity of his gratitude that you invited him here, and didn’t leave him to sleep on his child-sized government issued couch - if you can even call it that, it’s about as plush and comfortable as a wooden coffee table.

“No worries at all, Hotchner. I’ll see you in the morning. But I’m the first door on the left down the hall if you need anything. Goodnight, boss.” Hotch never realized you’re the only person he lets call him Hotchner, because it doesn’t grate at him when you say it the way it does with everyone else. He tries to ignore the pang in his heart when you say goodbye, he supposes it’ll still be nicer to know you’re nearby than it would be to sleep by himself at home but still, he wishes you could be with him. So he doesn’t feel so alone.

“What’s wrong?” You enquire. Crap. He forgot to respond. Ever the open book, Hotch must not have covered his disappointment well. You can see straight through him, as usual. He feels almost naked under your gaze, but even that doesn’t make him uncomfortable. He feels more safe and more warm, even virtually stripped naked before you than he would feel fully clothed in a padded cell. He knows he trusts you implicitly, you wouldn’t even need to say jump before he would ask how high.

“Nothing, I just. It’s silly, really. Goodnight, Y/N.” He turns towards the ensuite to go clean his teeth and hopefully escape your leveling stares.

“Hotch, I don’t think you’re capable of doing anything silly. Please, tell me.” He stops in his tracks, he’s unable to deny you anything when you plead with him like that.

“Well… I just don’t think I can handle being alone, not tonight.” His eyes search yours for any sign of discomfort, but he sees your lips form a smile, one that grows until it reaches your eyes, and he hopes you don’t find his admission funny.

“I understand, truthfully I don’t think I can either, I’ll just go change into my pj’s, I’ll be two minutes, tops.” You pad down the hall, an extra spring in your step as Hotch smiles to himself, peeling the layers back from the bed and discarding some of the throw pillows on the armchair in the corner. You return in an oversized barbie t-shirt and some red plaid pajama pants, holding a similar set of clothes out for him. He takes them with a soft ‘thank you’

“I’d wait to thank me, Hotchner. Go try them on, first.” He pads into the bathroom, closing the door and taking off his suit before realizing what you meant. He emerges donning his care-bears tee which is even a little oversized on him, and the blue pants which stop a little high on his ankles, but he was able to adjust the drawstring so they hang nicely off his hips.

You have to cover your hands with your mouth to hide your giggle at the sight of your rugged, handsome boss now rocking a bedtime-bear pajama set in your guest room, but Hotch, ever the good sport, gives you a sad twirl, letting you take him in.

“I’d better not find any nanny cam footage of this in Garcia’s batcave tomorrow, Y/L/N.” You let out a breathy laugh as you climb into the far side of the bed, taking the side closest to the door. Hotch tries to push down the warmth erupting in his chest both at the sound, and at your gesture since sleeping by the door is normally a courtesy he’ll extend to any roommates on cases, knowing that if anyone were to enter the room, he would be the first in harm’s way. He climbs into his side of the bed, letting out a long yawn.

“Goodnight, Hotchner.” You whisper, turning out the bedside lamp and rolling to face him, the room is still illuminated from the lamp in the far end of the hall, just enough for you to see his eyes searching yours.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Thank you for walking me home.” He whispers back. He hears you shiver as a draft enters the room, and he finds himself reaching out to pull you into him before he can think to stop it. He breathes a sigh of relief when you nuzzle into his side, tucking one arm under his waist, another underneath him against the mattress, and one of your legs becomes tangled in his own.

“Someone has to take care of you, Hotch. Everybody needs a little care and kindness, even the bossman. Thank you for letting me take care of you.” Hotch feels his eyes welling up as he realizes he hasn’t been held like this, so close to another person, like he’s small and delicate – in a long time. Actually, he’s never been held like this, he feels your fingertips running over his stomach, soothing his worries away. The hot bubbling feeling of never being enough seems to melt away under your touch. He clenches his jaw, willing his sobs to die in his throat before you have to hear him reduced to a blubbering mess by you. He feels a salty tear stream out of his eye and into his ear, but a hand reaches out to wipe away its trail. He catches your gaze, looking at him so tenderly. You shift in the bed so you’re higher up than he is, and you pull his head onto your chest, letting him listen to your heartbeat, loud and strong. His tears keep streaming onto your shirt as he fists at some of the fabric, he was unaware how much bottled-up emotion he had just below the surface, but you’ve let it all pour out of him. Your hands rub up and down his back, as you press kisses to his crown. He can hear you whispering reassurances against his hair as his breaths begin to even out again, his choked gasps becoming half breaths. He falls asleep in your embrace, completely vulnerable in your arms, and he gets the most restful night of sleep he’s had in months. Pressed tightly against you, you hold him like he’s small and delicate because he is. You helped pull down his concrete walls he had surrounded himself with in recent years, revealing the scared, lonely little boy within. One who does need to be held, to be loved. To be shown kindness and warmth. He may not have been able to save the little boy in the field today. But you saved the little boy in Aaron. You showed him that even with all the wrong going on outside, he doesn’t have to march through it all alone.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner hurt/comfort #fluff #hurt/comfort #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x you

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selfindulgentramblings · 8 months

Text

"Late Nights"

| markiplier x fem!reader

warnings: none

rating: tooth rotting fluff

word count: 356

notes: this is my first story on tumblr! i've been writing for a while but i've never posted anything i've written before, so i hope you like it :)

☆⭑✦⭑☆

Sometimes, you wondered if Mark ever got any sleep before you moved in with him. That man could sit in his office and work nonstop, only noticing that time had passed when the sun came up, and then do it all over again the following night. You knew it was his passion that drove him to be this way, but that doesn't mean you would let him do that to himself. Besides, you couldn't really sleep without him.

Tonight was one of those nights. You rolled over for what felt like the millionth time, sighing as you heard the distant clicking of Mark's computer down the hall. This had been going on for hours, and at this rate, neither of you were going to be getting any sleep tonight. You sat up slowly, wondering what in the world is keeping him up this time. You walked quietly out of your shared bedroom, not bothering to shut the door behind you.

"Baby?" you called softly, cracking his office door open halfway. The clacking of his keyboard stopped abruptly as he turned to look at you. His face was lit by only the harsh light of computer screen, the rest of the room shrouded in darkness. "Come to bed?"

He glanced back to his computer for a moment, reading the time at the bottom of his screen; 3:27 AM. Rubbing his hands over his face, signing quietly. "I really have to finish this," he says gently, tiredness creeping into his voice. He finds your eyes again, almost melting when he saw how tired you looked. "C'mere."

He opened his arms for you to crawl into, which you happily did. You sat on his lap, tightly hugging his torso and pressing your face into him. Kissing the top of your head, he started to hum quietly to you, his chest rumbling against you. His hands found their way to your hair, softly carding through the locks and massaging your scalp. Drowsiness tugged on your eyelids, dragging you into a blissful sleep before you knew it.

"G'night, my special girl," Mark whispered upon hearing your soft snores. "I love you."

#markiplier #markiplier x reader #mark fischbach #mark fischbach x reader #markiplier imagines #literally just markiplier being a sweetheart #fluff #comfort

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modelbus · 2 years

Note

Hii! Can I request a Tommy x reader (romantic) where they’re just chilling at Tommys apartment together and she jokingly hits him with a pillow and runs off and he catches her and they start play fighting just lots and lots of fluff <33 she/her pronouns or they/them if you want

I am a sucker for fluff... I used a third person POV for this one! Let me know if you like it, or which POV you prefer.

Pairing: Tommyinnit x Female!Reader (romantic)

Fluffy Fighting

"You can edit more in the morning, please get some sleep." She begs.

Tommy, ever persistent on his editing conquest, doesn't even turn his chair around to answer. "I'll be done eventually."

"But at what cost?"

To that he doesn't reply. Although she knew Tommy loved YouTube and Twitch, this was taking it a bit far. Some of his subtitlers went on vacation so he decided to subtitle his video himself, but it was just taking forever. A whole day of editing! That meant she hadn't gotten to spend any actual time with her boyfriend despite having been invited to his apartment.

"You're going to fuck up your sleep schedule." She tries again, but to no avail.

Stubbornness was both a good and a bad trait, for this exact reason.

"I'll fix it eventually." He dismisses.

That's it. Grabbing a pillow from the bed, she stands and quietly approaches him. He doesn't spot her, so she hits him on the head with it.

Immediately, his hands stop moving on the keyboard and mouse. With a swallow, she backs up a few steps and drops the pillow. At least he's spun his chair around?

"Did you just hit me with a fucking pillow?"

"No?"

The way his lips are tugging up into a grin, ruining his fake frown, betray him. See, she knows that look. It was his bad idea look, his "I'm going to drag you into my bad idea look", and in general his mischievous look. So, like any sane person would, she turns tail and runs.

Within seconds she can hear him running after her. The thing about Tommy was that he was tall with long legs, meaning she was absolutely screwed.

“Get back here, bitch!” He yells.

She raises her middle finger in his vague direction, too busy rounding the couch to actually look behind her. When she fakes left he jolts that way, and when he fakes right she jolts the other way.

To her right is a half-finished Lego set, so she grabs a Lego and chucks it at him.

"Hey!" He yells, finding it and throwing it back. "Leave my Legos out of this!" After a second of a weird stand-off, he attempts to hop the couch. It’s more of an awkwardly slow tumble, sending her into laughter.

Unfortunately for her, he recovers quickly. Noticing a second too late she barely turns around before he’s grabbing her wrist and tugging her backwards. Arms wrap around her waist once she’s in range, trapping her in his embrace.

“I am going to suffocate you.” He announces.

“Wait, please, I have a family.”

“Not anymore!”

"I have so much to live for!" She fake sobs.

"Like what, bitch?!"

A small smile grows on her face, her next words glaringly obvious.

"Well, I have this boyfriend named Tommy who I'm pretty sure would like me to live."

"Well what if he doesn't?"

"...fuck. Didn't consider that."

Finally, Tommy laughs and breaks his character.

"Guess my boyfriend won't get kisses from me anymore." She hums, slipping out of his now-relaxed hold.

"Wait." He pouts. "I do want you to live!"

"Oh, in that case..."

She turns around to face him, leaning up for a kiss. After a second she can't help herself, and mumbles against his lips, "I win."

"What?" He laughs, pulling away with a faint blush.

"You aren't editing. I win."

"You tricked me!"

"Yup. And it worked. So you have to go to bed now, because I won."

"I didn't agree to that!"

"My rules."

"This is-" A yawn cuts him off halfway through, and he doesn't attempt to finish the sentence.

"Exactly. Come on, we can fall asleep to Moana or something."

"Moana is actually so fucking good."

"I know, I know."

Before she can head back to his bedroom, he steps closer again and kisses her again. Her hands go around his neck, his around her waist, and they sway just a little.

“Fine. Let’s sleep.” He finally relents.

Now that he's given up trying to resist, it only takes a few minutes for the both of them to find their way to bed. Moana plays on his laptop, but it's almost useless as they both find themselves falling asleep within minutes, curled safely into each other.

#tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit #mcyt #mcyt imagine #dsmp #tommyinnit mcyt

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idolatrybarbie · 7 months

Text

ripping sunrise

for my fifty follower celebration! @criticalarchitecture asked: any pedro boy (frankie morales) and prompt no. six— "stop thinking so hard." this is sort of a sick fic?

rating & word count: 2.4k | explicit

warnings: established relationship, mentions of cannabis and cannabis usage, mention of smoking, sex while high but fully consensual, fingering, unprotected penetrative vaginal sex, creampie, pet names, Frankie momento español??, the edible part of this story is true to life god that was fucking horrible, unedited due to having been finished on the bus otw to meet a band.

At first, it looks like a regular sour key. About the length of your palm, sugar crumbles off the gummy and sits on your skin. Frankie always pulls a face when you mention pulling a few bites from his stash of snacks. This is your apartment after all. He’s got his own little house at the edge of town he can keep all his bags of white cheddar popcorn in if he wishes.

Not that that would be very practical. More and more these days, you ponder popping the moving in question. He’s always over here, sleeping over, getting off work and driving here; not the short little house at the end of Parkside with the rotting front steps.

You’ve thought it through. There’s a sun room that holds your mom’s antique rocking chair and a small coffee table, but those can easily be moved. The two of you could transform the space into a room for his daughter to sleep in on weekends. Scrolling through the web at night, you wonder how she would want to decorate it—curious if she’s outgrown her monarch butterfly phase yet.

The light snacking is a storage tax, you tell him. Today, you even had to sign for Frankie’s candy when the delivery driver came to the door. Surely he won’t miss one little gummy. You leave the package on the couch beside you, popping the blue sour key into your mouth. Immediately, something is off. As you chew, the flavour becomes less sour and more…pasty. Like the remnants of the ash tray your grandfather kept in his kitchen, mixed in with lard and a pinch of sweetness. Still, you finish chewing and swallow the thing.

Frankie gets home a short while later, smiling as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. Before you can tell him about his delivery, he’s snaking down the hall towards the bathroom, muttering about being drenched in sweat. Shaking your head, you ease yourself back into the cushions, opening your laptop up in front of you.

Halfway through writing an email, the world blurs. Only for a moment. You are back to typing a second later. But then your fingers aren’t quite catching the keys, and the layout of your computer’s keyboard that’s been burned into your brain disappears from memory. Your eyes glitch—that’s the only way to describe it—as you lean to the right, mashing your face into the plush cushion beside you.

Watching yourself move, your arm reaches for that package of candy again. Thank god the words are in an ugly, bold font for you to read. You groan as your eyes pass over the label slowly. 15 milligram THC edible gummies.

“Fuuuck,” you breathe.

Never having taken an edible before, you know this can’t be good. Frankie’s new prescription of treatment for his post-traumatic stress had been pretty broad-ranging, you remembered. He wasn’t a huge fan of cannabis, mortified as he watched you roll him his first spliff. Weed wasn’t your thing either, but you’d had a good few hand-rolled clove cigarettes in your day.

“Honey?”

You hear a voice, surely Frankie’s, but you aren’t too sure. The noise comes from the left of you, slowly turning your head to look in that direction. He stands between the hall and the living room, a t-shirt over his chest and a towel hanging off his hips.

“How was your day?” Frankie asks.

Okay, play it cool. You nod slowly. “Alright.”

Keeping your answers short, one word if possible, is probably the best idea right now. You aren’t sure why you don’t just tell him, irrational fears creeping at the edges of your thoughts. You don’t know what, but something bad will certainly happen if he finds out. Right?

“Just alright?”

“Long. Long day, that’s all,” you say.

A small voice in your head, smothered by the drugs, scolds you. There are two of you right now—the person inside your head, forced into the backseat as she watches the physical version lose control of all operating faculties.

“Well, it’s over now.” Frankie smiles, and it feels like basking in the sun. You can’t help but smile back.

Everything oozes together for a while. Frankie’s got his arm around your shoulders now, your cheek resting against his collar, hand pressed to his chest. A horror movie plays on the television, and it’s clearly captured his attention. You, on the other hand, try to focus on the steady beat of his heart. It batters softly in your ear, muffled by bone, skin, and fabric.

A brief moment of panic grips you, breathing quick and uneven as a chase begins on-screen and the frantic music sets your brain off. Frankie must misconstrue it as fright from the movie, squeezing you closer. The constant thrum in his chest lulls you back to stability, feeling safe in his arms. You fall asleep like this, only roused when Frankie tucks a pillow under your head.

You are still on the couch, laying down now. A blanket covers your body, but you kick it off. Everything is hot, too hot to bear. Frankie eyes you, confused. He sits at the end of the couch near your feet.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Your mouth is dry, remnants of spit all foamy on your tongue. Cotton mouth.

Willing saliva from the back of your tongue, you manage, “It’s too hot.”

“You sick?” Frankie asks. God, you are getting sick of the questions. He leans forward over you, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“I made a mistake,” you say, somewhere between a whine and a whisper.

“It’s probably just a cold—”

“I ate your stupid candy.” You nudge at the package with your foot, the plastic now half-hidden by a throw pillow. Frankie wedges it from under the cushion, looking it over and then at you.

His face is unreadable, your eyes swimming and picking specific bits of him to focus on. The curls that peak out from behind his head, surely fluffy at the nape of Frankie’s neck; the smile lines that surround his mouth, edging up to the sides of his strong nose. This man is truly beautiful.

His laugh pulls you from your obsessive gazing. “Well, shit,” Frankie says.

“I’m sorry,” you groan.

“It’s fine.” Avoiding eye contact, you nuzzle your face into the pillow under you. “Hey, look, it’s alright. What matters is that you’re alright.”

“I am not. Feels like I’m burning up in space.”

Frankie runs the pad of his thumb along your ankle. “You’ll be okay. We just gotta wait, I guess.” That’s what you were afraid he’d say.

Drifting in and out of sleep, Frankie stays with you on the couch. Sometimes you catch him on his phone, or another time eating a bowl of cereal. Google tells the both of you that this high should only last eight to ten hours, but you’re skeptical. Frankie makes you chug half a glass of water before exhaustion pulls you under again.

When you wake up, the sun is out. Yellow beams stream in through half-open curtains. Frankie must have left them open. He sits at the end of the couch, snoring softly. You nudge him with your foot.

Startling awake, he is wired and wild-eyed before the world comes into focus again. He notices you, softly touching your ankle where the skin isn’t covered by washer-stained socks.

“You sleep okay?” Frankie asks.

“Like the dead,” you say. “Can still feel my corneas, but I think I’ll manage to function.”

Frankie checks his watch, the hardware battered and the band fabric fraying. “It’s almost been…”

Finally, you can think again. The math is easy in your head. “Eighteen hours.”

“Jesus,” he shakes his head.

“Imagine how I feel?”

“You sure you’re going to be okay?”

“You’re here,” you smile. “That’s all I need.”

Frankie still looks worried.

“I’m fine, alright.” You sit up, letting the blanket fall to your lap before you brace yourself on your knees. Settling yourself on his thighs, you hold onto Frankie’s shoulders and stare at him. “Look.”

You lean back in the seat of his lap, spine curling backwards. Frankie’s hands hold your sides to keep you steady. Coming back to face him, you touch the tips of your pointer fingers to your nose. “Fine, see?”

He sighs. You press a kiss, soft and chaste, to his lips. Frankie breathes your name when you gently roll your hips over his.

“Please? Frankie, stop thinking so hard,” you say.

“You’re sure?” he asks. He watches you, searching for any signs of hesitation.

“Positive.”

You pull his face to yours, devouring him in a needy kiss. He tastes like vanilla and allspice. If you weren’t already wet and aching for him, you would be content to stick your tongue down his throat all day—treat this man like a never-ending gobsmacker. The brush of his erection against you only makes you want Frankie more, unsatisfied with schoolgirl dry-humping as it is.

In a very convenient turn of events, Frankie ditched his jeans for plain boxers somewhere in the night as he got comfortable on the couch with you. He’s hot to the touch underneath the polyblend fabric, pressing his hips up toward your hand. Returning the favour, Frankie dips a hand past the seams of your pants and the band of your underwear, feeling you. There’s a pool in your panties, slick gathered from your lips to your clit as he smears a little on his fingers.

Gingerly, Frankie removes them from you before he brings the two to his lips and sucks. He hums around them, tasting you. You’re still a little high, brain unable to process the image. You lean your forehead against Frankie’s shoulder with a groan.

"Frankie," you breathe.

"What do you need, beautiful? Gotta tell me."

"Don't stop. Just—I need you to make me feel good."

He gives you a softer kiss, hand skirting under the hem of your shirt to grab at your breast through your bra. His fingers return to your cunt, two inside you as he rubs his thumb over your sensitive clit. Everything surrounding you is muted, the pleasure taken from Frankie's fingers heightened as you focus only on the feeling of him inside of you and the satisfied smile on his face.

Frankie loves watching you come, making you come. Says it's the thing he's best at, to which you always staunchly disagree—not because he isn't deftly skilled in that department, but you think the statement erases his many other skills and talents. He always laughs at you, a grin on his face much like the one you find there now. You tell him you love him every time, because you do, so much.

Oh god. This man. You love him. The weight of those words has never really settled over you the way it does right now, Frankie's hand still working you over. You love him, you love him, you love him. His hand moves faster as you start to ride his fingers. Only Frankie can hear you as you whimper the thought out loud, over and over.

With his free hand, he grabs the back of your neck like the scruff of a naughty kitten. The action pulls your focus, all eyes on Frankie. You can see every ridge of his face, the sweet crinkles around his eyes, every brown freckle that dots his skin. He's so beautiful, when did he get so beautiful? When did you get so lucky?

"Fuck—oh my god, Frankie," you gasp.

A moan interrupts your words when he pinches at your skin, the pain bleeding deliciously into your pleasure. You’re coming before you can really register what’s happening, hips stuttering over and over again as you grip his fingers. Frankie slows his hand to a stop. He pulls his fingers from you carefully, letting you taste one before he moves his hand to dip the other into his own mouth.

“Aw, cariño…feeling better?” he asks.

You nod, falling silent as you pant over his cheek. Finding space to rest your head between his jaw and collarbone, you make your hands move to pull Frankie’s cock from his underwear. He’s hot to the touch, hard and leaking at the tip. You lift yourself up in his lap before lining him up with yourself. It’s an unceremonious drop down before he’s fully seated inside of you.

The stretch burns the slightest bit, Frankie’s girth parting you to make everything fit. You whimper when he grinds his hips up in the slightest, holding your shoulders to press you down further into him.

“That’s it, nice n’ slow,” he sighs. “Been a long few hours, huh?”

Words have been taken from you, brain sluggish and sleepy from the weed and the orgasm. You nod into Frankie’s shoulder as he cradles you on his dick; he makes small thrusts into you, pushing just a tad deeper every time, never truly leaving.

“So nice and warm for me,” he grunts, “always welcoming. Always wet for me, yeah?”

“Yes,” you say, voice soft and limp.

Frankie’s chest rises when yours shrinks, lungs alternating as he holds you. Like this, with him, you feel truly whole. No thoughts or worries, just you two—Frankie, who’ll always take care of you. You, with the knowledge that you’ll always be there.

His thrusts have your bodies moving a little farther apart, Frankie almost lifting you up by the sides only to push you back down onto his cock. He’s sinking into you deeper now, brushing that spongey spot he knows you love so much with ease. A second orgasm rolls through you in a gentle, lazy wave; your breath picks up a bit, mouthing at his neck to keep you grounded.

With your cunt clenching around him and the warmth of being inside you, holding you this close, it doesn’t take much longer for Frankie to lose himself. Another handful of thrusts has him spilling inside of you, his thighs flush with your own as he keeps you in place. Minutes pass, the two of you still tangled up together. He’s softening inside of you, cum dribbling into his lap and down your thighs.

“Feeling better?”

You nod, pulling back from his skin to stare at his face. What a cute fuckin’ nose he’s got, arching proudly off his face. You meet his bridge with a kiss, watching the slight sparkle in his eyes.

“Much, thanks to you.”

“Always happy to be of service, honey,” he says. “Especially when it ends like that.”

“Mhm,” you hum. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie morales fanfiction #pedrostories #50 followers #*throws this at you* ok bai

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amsgrey · 2 years

Text

unsuspecting

PLEASE NOTE: This story might be triggering to ppl so please read the warnings.

Halstead!Sister x Jay Halstead x Will Halstead

synopsis: A case the team is working on ends up crashing into your life, leaving you struggling to understand what to do.

warnings: 16+, Sister! reader, Canon typical violence, mention of SA and r*pę, kidnapping, general bad vibes, read at your own discretion.

Bounding up the stairs into the district, you grinned as you approached Trudy at the desk. Trudy looked up from over her glasses, not showing any emotion at your arrival.

"Sergeant Platt!" You grinned, sliding a container across the desk to her, "Made these today."

Trudy opened the container, "You tryna get me fat, Halstead?"

"Yup," You agreed, laughing at her fake shocked look. You started up the stairs to the intelligence Bullpen, holding the door handle and staring down Trudy until she walked over to let you up.

"See, now I'm getting your steps up," You joked as you climbed the stairs together. Trudy looked completely unamused. You got to the top of the stairs as the team were in a heated discussion about the case they were working on. Trying not to cause a distraction, you headed straight to the break room, our normal routine after school when Jay was busy on a case. Trudy followed behind, stopping at the threshold of the break room and asking if you needed anything.

You shook your head, "I'm okay, thanks."

Trudy nodded, leaving you alone in the break room and headed back into the bullpen. Whatever the team was working on, they were clearly coming up short. You tried not to pay attention to what they were talking about, it was mostly depressing and you learnt to try to ignore it. Chicago was a dangerous city, you didn't need a reminder of that. You were halfway through some English homework when Hailey ducked her head into the break room.

"Hey, Kiddo?"

You looked up, fingers hovering over your keyboard and waiting for her to continue. Hailey walked into the room, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

"Listen, Jay's busy, he might not be back for a while. I was thinking we could grab some dinner then I'll drop you home?" She smiled, "I gotta come back but Will said he gets off tonight and he'll come round?"

You smiled, "I can be home alone, you know."

Hailey chuckled, "Yeah, I know that. Don't think Jay does."

Laughing, you got to your feet and started packing your things back into your bag. When you were done you walked back into the bullpen and waited as Hailey gathered her things off her desk.

"Hey, Kid!" Ruzek greeted, turning in his chair to give you his signature 'fun-uncle' smile, "How was school?"

You shrugged, "'Twas school."

Ruzek nodded solemnly, narrowing his eyes and acting wise, "Well, school's not for everyone."

Hailey stopped what she was doing, "Yes it is."

Kevin smiled, clapping Ruzek on the back and proclaiming, "Think school was not for you, Ruze."

Adam looked surprised, "What? What is that supposed to-"

Adam was interrupted by Trudy walking back up the stairs, trailing a very angry-looking man in a dark suit. Trudy was about to say something, to introduce the man. Before she could the man immediately started yelling.

"Where the hell is my client?!" He shouted, "You were supposed to release him!"

Trudy gave the man an irritated look, "This is Jake Howard's lawyer."

Voight came out of his office at the commotion, "We have your client on four felonies."

"No," The lawyer replied, "You have nothing. And, your time is up. Release him now."

Voight looked as if he wanted to argue, but he knew he couldn't. From what you had overheard earlier, you knew there was pressure from higher in command in this case. He headed towards the lawyer and then gestured for him to follow. Hailey put her keys and phone back down on her desk, asking you to give her a moment before following Voight and the lawyer into the interrogation room hallway.

You weren't standing around for long when Hailey came back out of the hallway. She looked about as fiery as she ever did. She snatched up her keys and phone and gestured that you were going to leave. As you both walked towards the stairs, Voight exited the hallway with the lawyer and a man dressed in a dress shirt and pants followed. He had a smug grin on his face, looking overly pleased with himself.

"Now there's a sight for sore eyes," He grinned even bigger, he looked you up and down and just the look he gave you made you feel gross. Hailey gently grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards Kim and Ruzek's desk and standing slightly in front of you. The man's lawyer was pushing him down the stairs, sending Voight some harsh words and threats about lawsuits. When they disappeared round the corner, but not before the man sent you one last glance.

Hailey looked ready to follow the man out and go after him, but you gently stepped around her.

"Can we head off now?" You asked gently, it felt like the whole room was filled with enough nervous energy to create a storm.

Hailey nodded, "Yeah, yeah. Are you okay?"

You nodded, men were creeps all of the time. Especially whenever you were in your school uniform, this was nothing new. Hailey sighed, nodding herself and then gesturing for you to lead the way down the stairs. You waved goodbye to the team, rushing down the stairs to try to get out of the precinct quickly. You waved again to Trudy and then headed outside the precinct to Hailey's car. As you headed to the passenger side door, you caught the man from before, standing with his lawyer in front of a gathering group of reporters. He looked over and caught your eye, sending you a wink. Screwing your face up with disgust you got into Hailey’s car and prayed you would never see that man again.

When Hailey was pulling up to your apartment building, her radio started chattering. A call coming in from a few blocks over that sounded related to the case. She looked at you then reached for her radio, turning it off.

"It's okay," You told her, "Go, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," You smiled, "I'm not 12 I can survive for a few hours home alone."

"Okay," She nodded, waiting for you to gather your stuff and open the door before turning the car on again, "I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Yup," You grabbed your bag and the food you were going to eat together, "Be safe!"

Hailey nodded as you shut the door, she peeled away from the curb and flicked her lights and sirens on, disappearing into the traffic. You turned towards the apartment, headed inside and greeted one of your neighbors as you did. You go into the elevator and hit your floor, leaning back against the wall and thinking about how you really needed a nap.

"Hold the elevator!"

You stopped the doors, letting the man who called out into the elevator. As soon as you saw him, you realized that was a mistake. The man from earlier stepped into the elevator, muttering thanks. You reached for your phone, trying to look busy while you typed out a message to Hailey.

"So, You live in this building?" He asked, when you looked over at him, he was staring at you. Something about how piercing and to light his eyes made you nervous. Your hand wrapped around the keys in your pocket as a precaution. You simply nodded, willing the elevator to move faster. The man had pressed a button to a floor two above your own. Please let this be a coincidence, you thought.

"Not very chatty?" He laughed, his hands deep in his pockets as he leaned back against the wall. He looked so nonchalant like he had no care in the world that he was just arrested and the entire city media seemed to want to talk to him. From what you overheard from the team at the precinct, he was the main suspect in a string of serial sexual assaults. Your hand shook as you tried to type out a message to Hailey, eyes fluttering from your screen up to the elevator signal. Three floors to go.

"I don't talk to strangers in elevators," You said quietly. Two floors to go.

The man nodded, "I don't blame you. A pretty little girl in this city?" He smirked, for a moment looking you up and down and then to the doors when they pinged open. "Your floor." He gestured like he was being chivalrous. You quickly stepped out of the elevator, trying to keep him in your sight to make sure he didn't get off on the same floor. You continued past your apartment door, glancing over your shoulder to see he was holding the doors open and watching you. You continued walking until you went around a corner, pausing there and quickly calling Hailey's phone. It rang a few times before her voicemail sounded. Your hands were shaking so badly you could hardly press the right buttons, going back to your contacts and calling the first name you saw. Adam's. The elevator was starting to close now, as you held the phone to your ear you heard it whirl as it left the floor.

"Y/N?" Adam's voice came through your phone.

You didn't exactly know what to say, "Adam?"

"Yeah, What's up, Kiddo?" Adam knew you never called unless it was something important or urgent.

"The, uh, the man from the precinct. He's in the apartment building."

"What? Did you see him?"

You nodded, even though Adam couldn't know that. Slowly peeking around the corner, there was no one in the hallway. Quickly you rushed towards your apartment, fumbling with your keys as you unlocked it.

"He got on the elevator at the same time as me, he," You tried to explain as you entered the apartment, "He kept talking to me and he asked if I lived here. Watch me get off the elevator." Even though you were safe in your apartment, you couldn't help but speak quietly, scared he would hear you or find you.

"Okay, okay," Adam sounded like he was with someone else, "Look, Kim and I are on our way, okay? Just lock the door and stay in your room and we'll be there soon, alright?"

"Okay," You mumbled, hanging up the phone and abandoning your bag and food in the kitchen to retreat to your room. Before you were tired and drowsy from the long day, but now you felt like you would never sleep again. Everything in you told you to be careful, that you were unsafe. You sat on your bed, holding your phone and watching the time as you waited. All you could think about was how he knew where you lived and that you were home alone.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when there was a knock at the door. Forcing yourself to get up, you padded over to the door and looked through the peephole. Adam and Kim were on the other side, still in their tactical vests. You opened the door quickly. When you saw them, you couldn't help but burst into tears.

Adam shut the door and locked it as Kim pulled you into a hug.

"Are you alright?" She asked, leading you into the lounge and sitting you on the sofa.

You nodded wiping your face and trying to calm down, "I'm sorry, this is stupid. I just got scared."

Adam knelt in front of you, "It's not stupid and it's going to okay. Just take some deep breaths, yeah?"

Kim ran her hand soothing up and down your back as you did as Adam said. After you managed to stop crying, Adam and Kim asked what happened. You explained and they shared a look of concern.

"I couldn't get a hold of Hailey," You mumbled, "So I called you."

Adam smiled, "That's good." He stood up, walked to the kitchen and then brought back a glass of water for you. "I got to call Voight. I'll just be in the kitchen."

You leaned back on the couch, suddenly remembering how tired you were. Kim started talking, trying to take your mind off of it. You appreciated it, she always had fun stories about Makayla and her dances or plays. By the time Adam was back, you were much calmer and feeling a lot better.

"Sarg is going to call Will, get him to come over and take you to his apartment for the night. Is that okay with you?" He asked.

You nodded, although you lived with Jay and Hailey, Will had a permanent room set up for you at his place for when you crashed if Jay and Hailey were working overnight. You told Kim and Adam you'd grab some stuff so you would be ready, leaving them in the lounge to have a moment alone in your room. Having a cop for a brother hadn't really negatively affected you until now, obviously, you knew it was dangerous. But when you were a lot younger he fought in a war, and you'd gotten used to the danger of his professions. Now, you were grappling with the fact you had been unintentionally drawn into this.

When Will arrived, he was his usual cheery self, assuring you that Kohl would be overjoyed to see you. For the week that followed, you stayed with Will. Jay and Hailey were so busy on the case that you hardly saw them. Staying with Will meant you weren't alone too much, especially seeming you had Kohl. Jay picked you up from Wills after a week, he seemed slightly distant but otherwise his usual self.

Everything essentially went back to normal after another week, you were back to giving Hailey and Jay crap about anything and everything. You learnt that the case had been solved, the serial rapist had confessed but it wasn't the man in the dress shirt from the elevator. From what you overheard at the district, no one really believed it was him but they had a confession and the higher-ups wanted the case over. It was another day in Chicago, the rich tended to get away with this. You put it out of your mind, it wasn't something you wanted to dwell on. Besides, you had other things you had to focus on in school.

You were out with friends after school when Jay called. You sighed, Jay always called when he forgot you had plans or where you were.

“Hey Jay,” You said, watching your friends walk into a store while you waited outside.

“Hey,” Jay answered, “Where are you right now?” You couldn't help but roll your eyes, “You inherited dad's memory, you know that? I’m at the mall with my friends, I told you about it yesterday.”

“I know, I know,” Jay replied, “Where are you, right now?”

“Outside Forever 21, my friends are inside.”

“Y/N, stay right there. I’m on my way, just stay there.” Jay ordered.

“Why? What's wrong?” You looked around, wondering if there was some kind of threat and you were oblivious.

“I just need you to stay put, okay? I’m walking in now.”

Your friends left the store, asking you what was wrong as you looked around for Jay. Yu explained that your extremely paranoid brother was coming to get you and that you were sorry you couldn’t hang out for longer. You looked to your left, spotting Jay and Hailey walking through the mall's chaos towards you.

You bid goodbye to your friends, “See you monday!” Then started towards your brother. As you weaved around some of the people, you accidentally bumped into a stranger.

“Oh! Sorry,” You pulled away, the man steadied you by holding on to your forearms.

“You’re all good,” The first thing you recognized was the smug grin, then the man's eyes, “Nice seeing you again.”

You tried to pull away, but Jake Howard’s grip was too strong for you.

“Y/N!” Jay yelled from a couple meters away.

Howard dropped your arms, stepping around you and grinning, “See you ‘round.”

He disappeared into the crowd as Jay and Hailey jogged up to you. Jay wrapped his arm around your shoulders leading you back the way he came. He kept throwing glances over his shoulder and at Hailey. He led you out of the mall and towards the waiting car.

“Jay, what’s going on?” You demanded once you were in the car, “Why was Jake Howard right there?”

Jay didn’t say anything, he turned over the engine, pulling out of the car park and headed back to the district.

“Hailey?” You asked, you knew Hailey, she wasn’t good at lying to you or hiding things, “What’s going on?”

Hailey looked at Jay and then looked at you, “Don’t worry, we got you okay?” You sighed then nodded, leaning back against the seat. When you went to the district, you climbed the stairs and waited in the Bullpen for someone to tell you anything. Everyone greeted you the same way they always did, Adam asking about school, Kevin giving him crap for being nosey. But they were tense, you had known them long enough to see it. They were all glancing between you and Jay, they were hiding something.

“So,” You drawled, “What was that about?” Jay looked up from his phone, he had been texting Will to come get you, despite your protests that you would rather walk. “Don’t worry about it.” “What?” You demanded, crossing your arms and growing irritated,“What do you mean, don't worry about it?”

“I have it sorted, Y/N,” Jay replied, he was shutting you out and it only made you more irritated.

“Okay, well clearly you don’t if you ruin my day to bring me back here over what? Some creep?” You argued. Jay had a habit of ruining your plans whenever he got overprotective, it was fine when you were younger and didn’t really understand the city you were living in. But you could take care of yourself just fine.

“Y/N,” Jay’s tone was warning, he was telling you to back off. The entire unit awkwardly watched as you and your brother argued.

“You do this all the time Jay!” You threw your hands up in exasperation, not controlling how your voice raised as you got more upset, “I can take care of myself perfectly fine. I don’t need you showing up and bringing me here whenever you get a little nervous!”

Jay stood up, his face flush with anger, “You don’t know what you're talking about.”

You rolled your eyes, crying, “Give it a rest! I’m not 12 anymore! Stop being an overprotective prick.”

“Woah, okay,” Hailey stepped into the argument, a hand extended in Jay’s direction like she was trying to calm him down, “Let’s just take a moment.”

You and Jay stared at each other, each waiting for the other to apologize. Whenever you fought it always went like this, neither of you apologizing until someone else had to intervene or point out how pigheaded you both were being.

“I’ll wait for Will outside,” You muttered, walking away from Jay and jogging down the stairs before you could get even more angry. You sulked past the patrol officers and trudy at the desk, not wanting them to see how red your face was with anger. When you got outside, the cold air helped force you to take a breath, try to calm down. Will would be here soon and you could vent to him about all of this. As you stood on the curb, you hugged your coat around yourself and tried not to work yourself up about the argument you just had. Staring at your shoes you wondered if maybe you were being unreasonable, Jay clearly was protecting you from something. You just wished he would tell you what. Before you had a chance to register what was happening, a hand was on your back and you were being pushed forward. You were so lost in your own thoughts you didn’t realize a dark van had pulled up, the side door being opened to reveal two people. The hand on your back roughly pushed you forward, you cried out in surprise trying to pull away. When the people from the van dragged you in and the van was peeling away from the curb speeding away as you were stuck helpless in the back.

Will walked into the district confused. Jay had text and asked him to pick you up and that you were waiting outside, but when he arrived you weren’t there. You had probably realized it was too cold to be standing outside and headed indoors, so he headed up to Trudy.

“Hey, Sergeant Platt,” He greeted.

Trudy didn’t even look up from her paperwork, “Dr. Halstead.”

Will smiled at her notorious nonchalant attitude, “You seen Y/N?” That got Trudy’s attention, she looked up with a frown, “She’s waiting for you outside.”

Will shook his head, “Jay said she was but she’s not out there. Figured she came in because it’s too cold.”

“I saw her walk out,” Trudy was growing concerned, “She hasn’t come back in.”

Will pulled back from the desk, he silently reminded himself not to think the worst. He pulled out his phone, calling you and waiting as it rang. Trudy put her paperwork aside, watching Will as he called you.

“She’s not answering,” Will told her. Trudy knew what was going on in intelligence, the Jake Howard case which still haunted the unit. Just before you had shown up at the district Voight had confided in her that Howard was following you, taunting Jay with photos or information about where you were, what you were doing. There was no evidence to pin it on him, but they all knew.

“Come with me,” She ordered Will, bristly walking up the stairs to talk to the unit.

“Will?” Hailey looked surprised to see him as he and Trudy walked into the room.

“We have a problem,” Trudy told the gathered officers. She quickly informed them how you had stormed out of the district to wait for will outside and then how will had come in and you were nowhere to be found.

Jay felt as if the entire world stopped, “You think..?”

Trudy nodded, taking control of Adams computer to pull up the security cameras that were facing out front. The whole team gathered around the screen. Trudy forwarded through the footage until they watched you walk out of the district.

“Oh my god,” Kim mumbled as they all watched you get pushed into the van.

“Right outside the precinct?!” Adam gestured to the screen, “How did patrol not see this?” Voight immediately started ordering the team into action, to run the plates and put out a BOLO, Trudy ordered all Patrol officers to start cruising the street to find the van.

“This was only 10 minutes ago,” Voight said, “They can’t have gotten far.”

#one chicago #chicago pd #one chicago x reader #halstead!sister #chicago pd x reader #Jay Halstead x reader #jay halstead x sister!reader #will halstead x reader #will halstead x sister!reader #chicago med #chicago med x reader #jay halstead #will halstead #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead x reader

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itsonlydana · 2 years

Note

hi can you maybe write cc foolish with a s/o who overworks themselves?

"come to bed"➷ Foolish

➛ pairing: cc!Foolish x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

➛ idea: you were so concentrated on your work that you didn't even notice how late it has gotten. If it weren't for Foolish you would have worked until dawn

➛ tags/warnings: fluff

➛ an: to anyone who might find themselves in this situation: take a small break, drink some water and maybe have some fruit <3 you can do this but your body needs rest as well to function properly!

➛ tagging: @icarusthefoolish

important links: rules + masterlist

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The tapping of your fingers on the keyboard clacked through the quiet study, keeping you in the almost trance-like state of writing away, filling the document in front of you with sentences that were very likely to need complete revision in the morning. But you didn't have time for that right now, first of all you had to write something halfway meaningful at all. In nine days was the deadline for submitting this project and while that actually gave you enough buffer, you didn't want to fall behind your schedule. A schedule that was about to burst at the seams, like a slowly overboiling pot on the stove. Every time you looked at the paper diagonally next to you, it felt like there was more.

Next to your desk was an untouched sandwich that you had long forgotten about, next to it three empty cups that you had drunk up so quickly that no coffee rim could form. They had been one of the desperate attempts to ignore the oppressive fatigue a little further-another paragraph....

Whenever you paused to close your slowly burning eyes for a few seconds, you regretted it, found it harder to open them again afterwards, and it was only the fear of not finishing in time that made you sit up and force yourself to erase the last typed words, a jumble of half-asleep typed letters, and rephrase it.

You didn't notice how it had quieted down in the bedroom next door, no half-shouted curses about miserable opponents in Overwatch flowing to you from under your door crack. Instead, there was the soft clack of a doorknob being pushed down, shuffling footsteps in the hallway muffled by a rug, and a soft tap of knuckles on the closed door of the study.

"Baby?"

At the voice of your boyfriend Foolish, raspy with fatigue, you jolted out of your trance of work. You leaned back in your chair smiling, ignoring the way your back pulled and your body yearned for your bed. At the sight of Foolish, the sluggishness disappeared for a moment.

"Are you still streaming or have you stopped?" you asked him. After several hours of barely using your voice except for a few exasperated sighs and groans, the words rasped in your dry throat.

Foolish stepped into the room, hands shoved into the pockets of his gym shorts, and shuffled up to you until he could lean down to rest his chin on your head. "Been done for half an hour, didn't you see my message?"

Confused, you shook your head and reached into your pants pocket. Sure enough, twenty minutes ago Foolish had sent you a "ready, bed? :)" You hadn't noticed the vibrate. You looked from the phone back to the flickering monitor in front of you. "I'll be done in a minute, then I'll join you. Okay?", you gave him a smile, the corners of your mouth heavy with the fatigue that had spread throughout your body.

Foolish didn't move though, just looked at you shaking his head. "Babe, it would be much better to continue working in the morning".

You too shook your head and turned back to the screen. "This can't wait Foolish. If I queue this up in the back too, I won't be able to finish the rest on the list either." For you, that was the end of the subject. You had explained to him why it was important to you to keep working and he would surely understand. Just to be on the safe side, you threw another "Go to bed already, I'll be up in a minute" over your shoulder.

But Foolish mumbled weary disapproving noises in your ear, his nose pressed against your temple. "Bed," he mumbled, his lips pressed against your ear so that his warm breath tickled you.

Sighing, you leaned your head back. "Foo-," you began, but were interrupted by his lips on your cheek.

"Now," he murmured, a little more seriously. Foolish put his hand on yours on the mouse and guided the pointer to the "Save" box, which he clicked three times for safety's sake before shutting down - without a protest from you - your PC. As soon as the screen went black you felt a wave of relief that made your arms heavy. Your bones groaned as you slowly sat up, cracking free from the chair that had engulfed and taken you over the last few hours. Your legs were heavy as lead, each step a shuffle across the floor, and like every time you work far too late into the night, you immediately regretted it.

But Foolish was there. Smiling, he took your hand in his, pulling you behind him out of the office and up to your bedroom, where you fell exhausted onto the covers. Foolish slid behind you, your back pressed against his chest, and buried his face in your neck.

The last thing you heard before falling asleep was a soft, "I'm proud of you."

#mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt writing #mcyt imagine #mcyt headcanons #foolish gamers fanfiction #foolish gamers imagine #foolish gamers x reader #foolish gamers x you #foolish x reader #foolish x you #fluff #foolish fluff #foolish gamers fluff #mcyt oneshots

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absolutewhore101 · 2 years

Text

Search History

Pairing: Calum Hood x GN!Reader

Summary: when your laptop crashes, you have to use Calum's. his search history is a little different than what you expected.

Warnings: none :) (small threat of violence)

Word Count: 706

Minors DNI (no smut, just not comfortable with you interacting)!!

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

Working from home had its benefits. You could stay in your pajamas all day. You never had to leave the house. You were with Calum all day. It was perfect.

But it also had its downsides. Like, for example, miscommunications. Email’s didn’t do a whole lot except complicate a simple conversation. And since you couldn’t really have this conversation with your co-worker in person, you had to settle for emails.

This was fine, for the most part. Until said co-worker decided to call you stupid without actually saying it.

Your jaw dropped in shock when you read what she had to say about you, and it took you a solid 10 minutes to calm down enough to begin to type out a response. That didn’t mean you were calm. You weren’t. If you were in the same room as her, you probably would’ve throttled her.

You typed out the first sentence slowly, trying your best to gain enough composure to not throw your laptop across the room.

After that first sentence, though, your fingers were flying across the keyboard. The things you were saying were really no better than her, but she started it.

You were nearly halfway through your strongly worded email when your computer crashed.

“Son of a bitch!” You yelled. Calum could hear it from downstairs where he was, but decided to leave you alone with whatever was angering you that much.

You got up, pacing around the room, trying to calm down. You were sure your blood pressure was through the roof.

You were thinking of what you could do. You’d need to respond before the work day was over or your email would lose all intention, no longer necessary.

You could wait it out and hope that your laptop came back on in the next hour, or…

You stomped down the stairs, steam practically coming out of your ears, and stopped in the doorway to the living room. Calum paused his show and looked over at you, slightly scared by how mad you looked.

“Hi.” He said sweetly, trying to diffuse the tension you’d brought with you.

“Where is your laptop? Mine crashed in the middle of a very urgent email.”

He pointed at the kitchen, and you spotted his laptop sitting on the counter. You walked over, picked it up, and walked back into the living room.

You opened it as you sat down on the end of the couch across from Calum, crossing your legs underneath you.

You typed in the password, and opened google, waiting for it to load.

Once it did, you clicked on the search bar to get to your email. However, what you found, had you bursting out in laughter immediately, all anger leaving your body.

Calum was startled at the sudden loud noise, and looked over to see you leaned back against the arm of the couch, head thrown back in laughter.

“Calum!” You exclaimed. “Why- what- oh my god!”

You tried to get your laughter under control, but every time you looked back at the screen, you started laughing again.

Eventually, you calmed down enough to ask Calum, “why in the world did you google ‘how to flirt’?!”

His face flushed red, and he scrunched his eyes, turning his face away from you.

“Oh, my god, I completely forgot about that.” He groaned.

You giggled at his reaction.

“No, but seriously though, why did you google that?” You asked him, smile still on your face.

He let out a sigh. “A few weeks ago, the boys were making fun of me because my flirting was so bad. Do you remember that? When I was trying to flirt with you? They said I’d never have a chance with you if I didn’t get it together.”

“Calum. We’ve been dating for the last 2 years. Everyone that was in the room knows that?” You said, even more confused now.

“Yeah, I know, but… nope, I have nothing. I can’t justify that for you. It just happened.” He said, laughing at himself now.

You moved his laptop to the coffee table, crawling down the couch and nestling into his side.

“Honey, your flirting is just fine.” You said.

“Whatever you say.” He mumbled into your hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tell me your thoughts! Thank you for reading :)

#calum hood x reader #calum hood #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos x reader #x reader #calum hood x y/n #calum hood fanfic #calum hood imagines

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sounwise · 2 years

Text

“Inner Beatle Secrets: From Paul” (interview with Alan Freeman in Rave Magazine, April 1966 issue)

[Full transcript beneath the cut:]

No doubt, pop-pickers, millions of you would flip at an opportunity to entertain Paul McCartney in your home for a few hours. Well, if you ever do, take my tip . . . move the piano out first. Because Paul makes straight for it the way other people head for a good-looking chick.

“You eat, sleep and dream on it, don’t you?” I said. Paul grinned and rippled out another string of tuneful thoughts, the melody just growing from his fingers. Then he tried it over again, this time adding a jumping bass pattern that suddenly brought the whole thing to life. He stopped halfway through.

“That’s all I’ve got so far,” he said. “I must work on that a bit more.”

It took me half-an-hour to get Paul away from the keyboard and sit down and relax. I could see why the Beatles rarely run short of great new numbers. If someone invented a way of composing in your sleep, McCartney would be on to it like a shot.

It was nearly a year since I’d had a Heart-to-Heart with Paul, here in the same room at my London apartment. We’d met often since then, of course, on shows and in TV studios. But now, with a rare day free just to laze around and sip a long drink and chat about whatever came into his mind, you could see a big change in him.

In the old days Paul, like a lot of genuinely sensitive and creative people, used to cover up a little under a dry, wise-cracking front. Today he’s fizzing like a firework with all sorts of thoughts and theories about music, films, books and art.

People used to ask, “What happens when the time comes that the Beatles break up and go their own ways?” I don’t think we need to worry. I reckon their individual talents are possibly even greater than their achievements as a group. Even if the Beatles had never made a single disc, the Lennon-McCartney songs would have been a glowing milestone in pop anyhow.

So, if you don’t mind, Beatle-diggers, this is Paul the person talking of his ideas, his discoveries as his mind matures and the mad, hurtling pace of the world’s idols steadies down to a saner rhythm.

The phone rang outside, but I wasn’t letting anybody cut in on this revealing session with Paul. “No calls for the next hour, no matter what,” I said to Carolina, my secretary.

And Paul began to talk.

“It’s hard to know whether the Beatles have changed much in the past year as the public sees them,” he said. “But I know we have. I know I have, as a personal, internal change. I don’t mean things like getting the M.B.E. I think after the first couple of weeks we forgot about that.

“I’d say the really big change is in our tastes, in finding out about things we didn’t know before. For instance, George spends all his time now, listening to Indian music. He’s joined the Asian Music Circle. He’s really serious about it, too. It started when he got a cithar [sic]—the Indian instrument we used on ‘Norwegian Wood’.

“It’s the same with all of us. We’ve all got interested in things that just never used to occur to us. I’ve got thousands, millions, of new ideas myself. What I really want to do now is to see whether I could write all the music for a film. Not just to write tunes, but the music of the film itself.

“I want to read a lot more than I do. It annoys me that so many million books came out last year and I only read twenty of them. It’s a drag.

“What I’m reading at the moment is everything I can get on the assassination of President Kennedy . . . all the evidence, all the reports. I’m convinced that the real truth about that hasn’t come out. And I’m reading a French writer—Jarry. He’s great, weird.

“I’m reading plays like mad, too, I don’t know if I’ll ever want to write one. But there are so many things I’d like to have a try at.

“Painting. I’ve done quite a bit and I enjoy it. I’d like to do a lot more, find out if I might have a talent for that.”

Caroline brought in tea and passed the cups. “Paul,” I said, “how would you say all these new interests of yours might affect the Beatles’ music?”

He grinned, stirring his tea. “Well, if you mean are people frightened that we might suddenly go all sober or play stuff like Mantovani, they needn’t worry about that. We’ve got no intention of trying to rehash old things. The whole point is that we’re learning about new things all the time.

“Like doing ‘Yesterday’ with the string quartet instead of the big sweeping orchestra, which was the old way. But it would be a pity if we change the way which we think is better but everybody else doesn’t. It’d be a pity—but that’s the only way we’ve ever worked.

“We’ve only made the records which we think are good, and that’s the only standard we’ve ever gone by. Eventually we may get a bit too way-out. I hope not, but I don’t know.”

I pointed to the stack of newly released discs standing by the record player and said, “But if you go through those, for example, everyone can see that pop music is getting more and more way-out. People are going for it, all the same.”

Paul nodded. “Yes, to some extent it is. But there are still too many groups who are trying just to keep up. That’s no good. That’s what makes the whole pop thing dull in the end. You ought to be able to move on a bit further with every record, like The Who.

“And what’s more, they’ve got every chance. The equipment in most British recording studios is much better than it is in the States. But there’s some extra bit they get to the sound over there that we haven’t quite got. I don’t know what it is yet, but you get the sensation of that little bit more. The Stones always tell us we’d be better if we recorded in the States, but we never have. We probably will eventually.

“You put a record of ours with an American record and don’t alter the volume, and you’ll find the American record is always that fraction louder. And it has a lucid something I can’t explain. Funny, because as I say, I believe we’re technically better in Britain.”

Paul shrugged. But he had the contented look of a young man who has just come up with something else to investigate and find out about.

There must be many a group starting out now who are spurred along by visions of what life at the top must be like when you finally get up there in the Beatles class. But Paul said that although you obviously pick up the luxuries, you also discover that you’re going short of a lot of things that less successful people have more time to enjoy.

“I suddenly realised that because of the Beatles, as far as my own life was concerned, I’d got in a very severe sort of rut. And we all had, because we all just seemed to be working only towards trying to get pop things done. And we saw that obviously we must have missed out on quite a few things.”

He grinned and nodded towards the piano in the corner. “Only the other day I was working out a number and I stopped and thought, ‘What a drag. I’m twenty-three and I’ve never learned to read music.’ And I found I was thinking to myself as if I was finished. So I said, ‘Why don’t I?’ And now I’m doing it.

“Sooner or later it hits you that the average span of the British male is seventy-five years and you’ve had more than twenty of them, so you better make the most of what’s left. Then the brain starts working, and John and I rush out and buy loads of books.

“I’m lazy, but I don’t like myself being lazy. So the only way out is to do something about it. Like I made myself listen to classical records, though nobody in our house ever liked them. When one came on they’d just turn it off. But I thought, ‘I’d better sort this out for myself and see whether I like it or not.’

“And in fact I don’t like a lot of it. It’s too fruity and sentimental. But from that you get on to what the modern composers are doing. And it’s suddenly great, because you discover that there are all these things going on.

“Then I play them to John and he says, ‘What a drag—all these millions of records coming out all the time and we’ve not been getting on to them.’ Then we rush out and buy loads of modern compositions.

“The only thing to do is to listen to everything and then make up your mind about it.”

And that’s the best advice you’ll ever get on this planet, friends. Because it works, not just in the world of music, but in every profession they ever invented. I know people with no special gifts who’ve made fortunes just by listening. Not eavesdropping . . . listening. And when you know, then you can really start moving.

Paul shares with Pete Townshend of The Who a taste for the music of Stockhausen, one of the modern German composers. “His ideas are fantastic. It’s the farthest-out music yet. He uses electronic stuff that nobody else has got round to. And his records are listed under the classical section in the catalogues. So if you’ve got it in your head that you don’t dig classical music, look what you’re shutting out.”

He shook his head. “You can’t go putting music into little categories like serious and Merseybeat and so on. The great thing is that it’s music, whatever label they try to stick on it.”

Paul said with quiet intensity, “You see, you’re going to have trouble getting but unless you have fairly solid opinions on things. You live in a muddle. as soon as I noticed myself saying ‘I don’t know’ I thought, ‘Well, you’ll have to try. Why don’t I know?’ Unless you get at it, by the time you do find out you’ll be ready to die.”

The Beatles have obviously been the single influence on pop for decades. But Paul admitted that this influence would never have come about if he, John, George and Ringo hadn’t been excited and stimulated by other people’s thoughts and ideas.

“The whole thing is about trying to contact people all the time. And with everything . . . plays, books, music. Even cooking. Anything that breaks down any kind of barrier and lets you get through to another human being . . . that’s it, that’s what valuable, that’s what matters.

“I think that’s why the whole being-English explosion has been such a success in America and everywhere else. It’s a genuine effort, and it’s working. Everybody in England has suddenly got just a little bit more interested in everything and everyone else. Britain has just climbed up on to another level, and it’s a wonderful thing.

“You ought to hear the people who come over here, the ones we talk to. They’re knocked out, because the idea they had of England before was just ridiculous. They believe the whole bowler-hat thing, thought the English were very reserved and very cold. When they go to a few parties and see what we’re really like, they’re amazed.

“Oh, sure, there’s been a change in us, all of us. But there’s a lot of people who’re still apathetic, who’ve got one fixed opinion. You know, the kind who say ‘I just like pop music or rhythm-and-blues or Edmundo Ros and don’t ever tell me about anything else because I don’t want to know’. They’re still scared to lay themselves open to any new influence. And they stay in the don’t-know rut for ever.

“As far as the Beatles are concerned, we can’t just stop where we are or there’s nothing left to do. We can go on trying to make popular records and it can get dead dull if we’re not trying to expand at all and move on into other things. Unless you’re careful you can be successful and unsuccessful at the same time.”

The next the Beatles do a television film, Paul said, they want to use many more of their own ideas instead of leaving it to the network’s camera crews. “The one they did while we were in America could have been so much better. It needed just that little extra bit of imagination.

“Instead of getting someone in to do the music and the sounds, we’d like to do it ourselves. Spend a long time on it and really work at it.

“We’re getting something that’ll really give us some experience with mixing up sound and film in that sort of way. It’s a gift Capitol Records gave us in the States, and it’s the greatest little present event.

“It’s a television recorder. You just plug it into your set and you record the programme straight off, just like on to a tape. You can record the BBC while you’re watching ITV and show the film on your telly at one o’clock in the morning if you want to. They said we’ll be the first people in England to have them.

“So what we’re going to do when they come is go out and shoot film, weird shapes and patterns and light, and record special weird music to go with it and then come back and play it at home on the television. And we’ll be able to find out what works and what doesn’t, so that when we do a proper full-scale film we’ll know exactly what to put in it.”

The telephone shrilled in the other room. I looked at my watch. Our quiet hour had ended. “It’s Brian Epstein’s office for Paul,” said Caroline.

If you’re a Beatle, the world doesn’t leave you alone for long. While Paul was on the phone, the chauffeur arrived to pick him up for another business meeting. And for another while at least, all the schemes would have to wait while Paul the person made way for Paul the star.

As we shook hands on his way out, I wondered how far he would have carried his plans, what new excitements would be gripping him, the next time we have the chance of a Heart-to-Heart. More than likely, he would have come in from the bachelor cold by then and followed the other Beatles into marriage.

One thing for sure, I thought. No kid of Paul McCartney’s will turn out to be a don’t-know.

I looked at the piano guiltily as the lift hummed down to the ground floor. After all this time, I should be able to play that machine with the best of them. Why can’t I? I sat down and got a little chord shape going.

“Alan,” said Caroline around the door. “Fred Thing wants to know if you can come over.”

One note out in the bass somewhere—that’s got it.

“Tell him I’d love to,” I said. “But I can’t now. I’m working on an idea.”

Till next month—stay bright!

#i had to request this issue from a research library on the other side of the country...! shoutout to librarians forever #paul mccartney #alan freeman #rave magazine #the beatles #transcript #1966 #scans

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kpforpresident · 1 year

Text

Chapter 2 / the flower shop au

Lexa is climbing the stairs to her third floor apartment when she feels her phone buzz silently in her pocket, alerting her to a text. She juggles her groceries to balance in the crook of her left elbow, passing her keys to hang in her teeth as she fishes her now-silent iPhone out of her jeans pocket.

Clarke had stopped by during lunchtime to get Lexa’s phone number and drop off her address, which unfortunately happened to coincide with what Lexa assumed was the precursor to the apocalypse as seven gangly teenage boys had swarmed into her shop, touching every flower that wasn’t safely behind glass. One boy had seriously asked her what he could buy for four dollars. Lexa had stared at him for a long moment with pursed lips before plucking a single long stemmed red rose from a bucket that sat at her elbow, handing it to him silently. He had shoved a crumpled handful of ones at her across the workbench before plucking his rose out of her hand and marching out the door, the other boys following dutifully behind.

Successfully having reached the square device, Lexa delicately manages to wedge open the humidity swollen door. She wobbles through the cracked opening to shove her groceries onto the laminate kitchen counter, pushing a can of chickpeas that teeters just slightly too close to the edge as she unlocks the screen and navigates to her texts with her free hand.

Lexa almost drops her phone as she thumbs open the unread message to see a text from Clarke.

604-867-5309: Hey, this is Clarke. Hoping we can do dinner tonight at my place, and you can bring your plant expertise? (This is a cry for help, the leaves are starting to look wilt-y and I’m trying not to panic). Also, do you like cilantro?

Lexa leans her hip against the counter as she re-reads the text twice, a goofy grin splitting her face as her eyes trace over the little digital text. She turns absentmindedly to click on the kettle for a cup of tea as her fingers hover over the keyboard, thinking.

Lexa: Hey, Clarke. This is me acknowledging your plant SOS and confirming I’ll be there. Is there a time that works? Can I bring anything? And I love cilantro. Did you know some people have a gene mutation that makes it taste like soap?

As soon as she sends the text she winces slightly, thumping her phone into her forehead twice before she turns to grab her favorite ceramic mug out of the cupboard, dropping an earl gray tea bag in the cup before she pours boiling water over top.

“Real smooth, Woods,” Lexa mutters as she dunks the tea bag twice in the steaming water, setting it carefully on the stovetop to cool before turning to unpack the mound of groceries. “She’ll be really impressed with your cilantro knowledge. Fuck.”

She is halfway through shoving produce into her fridge when her phone buzzes again, rattling loudly against the counter. Hesitating slightly, she worries her bottom lip between her teeth before grabbing it and thumbing to the unopened text.

Clarke: Shockingly, I did know that- my best friend Raven hates cilantro, which is ironic because her entire family is Mexican and cilantro features prominently in everything they make. She picks it out like it’ll kill her every time, and just leaves little green piles of roughage on her napkins. Can you grab some sort of alcohol? I’m not picky about the kind, I am an equal opportunity beer/wine drinker.

Lexa is just finishing the first text when another buzz rattles her phone, followed promptly by what Lexa can only describe as a message onslaught.

Clarke: Wait. I never asked you at the shop, do you drink?

Clarke: Fuck me, are you sober?

Clarke: Nice going, Griffin, you knob.

A minute passed. Then-

Clarke: I’m going to stick my head in the oven- please bring whatever beverage you enjoy and we’ll have it with dinner. It’ll be a nice surprise regardless. Does 7:30 work this evening? The buzzer to the apartment is 15.

Lexa laughs out loud as she reads through the thread, scooping up her now slightly cooler cup of tea as she moves through the apartment to nestle onto the velvet navy couch that takes up the majority of her living room. Knees tucked into her check, she takes a sip before responding.

Lexa: No worries, I definitely imbibe. I will be there at 7:30 sharp, copious amounts of alcohol in hand.

Setting her phone carefully down on the coffee table, Lexa bounds off to her room to begin getting ready, a huge smile plastered across her face.

///

Lexa bounces on the balls of her feet outside the tall brownstone apartment building, hand hovering over the buzzer as she checks her watch again. 7:27 blinks back at her from the silver analog face as she shoves the slouchy cream knit sweater she had elected as a safe first date choice back into place. Checking her hair one last time in the shiny reflection of the buzzer, she steps back slightly, shuffling the bottle of wine nervously to the other crook of her elbow.

Harried footsteps echo on the other side of the second floor walk up as Lexa fidgets slightly. The door flings open to reveal a slightly rumpled Clarke, a gray linen apron covering a pair of light wash jeans and a slouchy white tank top that peeks at the front just enough to reveal the suggestion of cleavage. Golden hair spills over a pale shoulder, shifting perfectly to reveal a satiny black bra strap. Clarke blows an errant strand of bangs out of her eyesight before fixing Lexa with a megawatt smile, pulling her into a brief hug before ushering her into the apartment warmly.

Lexa gapes for a heartbeat at the skin on display before mentally rebooting, plastering a smile onto her face as she stumbles inside and out of the frosty evening.

Clarke’s apartment is small but cozy and a dead ringer for the vivacious blonde who lives there. Her personality is splashed across the walls and imbued within the tiny touches that are sprinkled around the open floor plan as Lexa quietly enters, from the large colorful paintings that decorate every available wall space to the colorful Moroccan rug that takes up the majority of the wooden living room floor. A record player is propped on a worn wooden nightstand in the far corner by the window, a Bryan Adams record playing softly through the apartment.

A slow smile spreads across Lexa’s face as she gazes around, still clutching the bottle of rosé that she had brought, along with the bouquet of flowers that she had picked out prior to closing up shop for the night. She buried her nose in for one last fortifying whiff, summing her courage as she passed it to Clarke in a burst of courage.

“These- these are for you.” Clarke’s eyes widened as she reached for the fragrant bundle, her eyes sliding shut as she buried her nose within the array of flowers. Lexa fidgeted awkwardly as she admired them, gently setting the wine bottom on the kitchen counter so she could twine her fingers together anxiously.

“I would’ve made a better arrangement, but it was what I had leftover from a wedding-”

“They’re gorgeous, Lexa,” Clarke interrupts as she runs a reverent finger over a silky petal. There’s such an arrangement of flowers- do they mean something? Moreso, will you tell me what they mean?”

Clarke’s voice fades slightly as she wanders in the kitchen to fetch a vase, detouring slightly to stir something on the stove momentarily. She dips a spoon in to taste, nodding decisively before plunking the vase on the breakfast bar and gently setting the flowers inside. Delicate white roses, dainty apple blossoms, dark green ferns, and bright blue salvia flowers decorated the bouquet that settles in the tall glass vase, complementing the bright warmth of Clarke’s space.

Lexa was shaking her head before Clarke finished her sentence, a smile once again breaking unbidden across her face. Being in Clarke’s space felt overwhelmingly comfortable, to a shocking degree. Like slipping back into a sweater that had been forgotten in the back of the closet, but molded to every counter of your body as you settled into it.

“That’s cheating, as I am a florist,” Lexa laughs as she leans against the counter, trying to crane her neck to peer into the various pots and pans that are bubbling away merrily on the rickety white stove that has been unceremoniously crammed into a corner of the small galley-style kitchen. She brandishes the bottle of wine she brought, nudging it closer to Clarke as she settles onto the closest wooden bar stool. “However, the internet is a font of information and I have faith in your Googling abilities, Clarke.”

Clarke catches her peering over at the various pots and lunges over to pop an opaque lid onto the nearest saucepan, waggling a teasing finger in Lexa’s face as she dials the heat down to low. Satisfied that the dish would remain a secret, she turns the bottle appreciatively in her hands, smoothing a finger across the embossed label.

“Fair’s fair, if you won’t reveal your botany secrets then I am hard pressed to give you advance warning of your dining plans, madam. I love this rosé though, I always stop at that local wine shop when I am on that side of town. Thank you, I’ll put it on ice to chill before dinner.” Clarke concludes as she flicks jewel bright eyes up to meet Lexa’s gaze. Lexa can only grin dopily back, hardly believing her luck that this beautiful creature had asked her to dinner.

“Can I interest you in the abridged tour while the last part of our dinner spends the next five minutes in the oven?”

Lexa nods enthusiastically, mouth drying slightly as Clarke gently laces their fingers together, tugging her persistently into the living room. Lexa admires the artwork and makes the proper noises as Clarke leads her around, occasionally touching certain items on the shelf, picking up a book and putting it back down as she gestures with her free hand, voice rising and falling in pitch with the intensity of her excitement as she comments on various knick knacks around the apartment. All Lexa can comprehend is Clarke’s hand warm in her own, the softness of her palm as she cracks open her bedroom just wide enough for Lexa to catch a flash of a forest green duvet, the wall above her dress covered with a breathtaking painting of a fog saturated forest.

Tour over, Clarke tows her back to deposit her onto the bar stool, prancing around the island to reach on tiptoes to retrieve two crystal wine glasses. Popping the wine out of the fridge, she pours two healthy helpings of the light pink wine, bestowing one upon Lexa as she pulls two plates from a cupboard above the stove with her other hand.

Lexa takes a sip of the fruity wine as she props her chin on her other hand, watching Clarke float around the kitchen, stirring various things as she pulls a tray of shredded chicken out of the oven and pops a piece in her mouth, nodding to herself as she chops an avocado into neat green cubes before turning to slice a red onion into precise slivers.

“Who taught you to cook?” Lexa wonders as she leans over to let Clarke pop an offered piece of avocado in her mouth, chewing as she tucks her free hand back under her chin.

Clarke smiles, a tinge of melancholy weaving through her expression as she dumps a potful of steaming black beans into a decorated ceramic bowl. Bending over, Clarke reappears with smoked hot sauce, which she silently places on the counter as she returns to filling bowls with various toppings-onions placed gently into one tiny bowl, salsa in one, sour cream in another. The avocado and lettuce are left on the wooden chopping block, along with a steaming pile of tortillas that Clarke pulls out of where they had been warming under the oven hood.

Spread arranged and balanced on a large wooden tray, Clarke nods decisively as she pulls the apron off from around her neck, hanging it on an unseen hook as she shakes out her hair and scoops up her wine glass again. A crimson sunset alights the small living room in a brilliant hue, Clarke’s eyes seemingly even brighter in the last glow of the day.

“Shall we?”

Over tacos eaten on the rug in Clarke’s living room, as the candles burn down in their holders and the night swerves towards inky blackness, they talk for hours. Lexa loses count of the depth and breadth of topics that they bounce through as she learns that Clarke doesn’t like cake but loves ice cream, can no longer drink tequila after a three day hangover in university, and loves cooking because it is the activity that she used to do with her dad when her mother was pulling long hospital shifts.

In turn, Lexa shares how she grew up in foster care with fellow foster kid Anya, and when Anya had tuned 18 she had promptly moved out of their well-meaning but entirely useless foster home and filed for temporary guardianship of 16 year old Lexa. With Anya’s help after Lexa completed a degree from Polis U in botany and business, she opened the flower shop to glowing reviews, much to her eternal shock. She mentions how much she loves seeing people’s faces when they buy flowers, and enjoys imagining what their loved one’s face will look like when they receive them.

At one point post-dinner, pre dessert Lexa makes Clarke laugh so hard she nearly snorts wine up her nose, glowing with pride as Clarke wipes mirthful tears away. Lexa wanders around the room absently as Clarke vanishes into the kitchen to grab the apple crumble and ice cream she had made earlier in the day, her indignant defense that Crumbles aren’t cake, Lexa- I thought everyone knew that floating through the air after flaxen curls as she disappears around the corner.

Lexa runs a gentle finger over a silver picture frame, containing a very tiny Clarke with brownie batter on her nose, a wooden spoon in her hand, and a massive grin slapped across her face. A kind-eyed man with dirty blonde hair stands carefully behind her, a worn Harvard sweatshirt hanging off a muscular frame, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. While Clarke is beaming at the camera, and presumably her mother behind the lens, the man only has eyes for the pint sized blonde that is safely ensconced in his arms.

Lexa straightens the frame slightly before wandering over to examine the plant of the evening, the massive Monstera that is tucked in what clearly is a hesitant place of pride, in what Lexa assumes is a brilliantly sunny window during the day. She pokes a practiced finger into the top few inches of topsoil, finding it bone dry, the leaves wilting slightly. She dumps her mostly-full water glass into the base of the plant, smiling slightly as the water is instantly absorbed into the root system.

“There’s a drink- you were thirsty, hey?” Lexa finds herself murmuring to the plant as she straightens again, placing her now-empty glass on the table as she turns back to the main room to see Clarke setting out dessert plates and clean forks with a slightly amused smile dancing around her lips.

“Is that part of the plant regimen? Whispering sweet nothings to the stupidly expensive greenery?” Clarke jokes as she settles in with her plate, pushing a identical plate towards Lexa as, blushing, she heads back to settle into the couch.

“I- well- no,” Lexa stammers as she runs a slightly embarrassed hand over the soft velvet of Clarke’s navy couch. “But, I do think plants grow better with encouragement,” Lexa adds defensively as she loads a scoop of crumble onto her fork and shoves it in her mouth before she can say anything too nerdy and scare off this incredibly cool woman forever.

A warm hand slides over her forearm and squeezes slightly, Lexa stopping mid-chew to dart a glance down on the pale hand that lingers on her skin for a moment before retreating.

“I’m joking, Lexa. I love how excited you are about it- I know that I’m the exact same way about painting and art. I like hearing about it, especially if it’s going to help me keep from killing the damn thing,” Clarke finishes sincerely as she drains the rest of her wine.

Lexa can’t think of an answer, too preoccupied from the warmth that is exploding in her chest at Clarke’s words.

“Do you have a piece of paper? And a pen? So I can write down your plant boot camp?” Lexa jokes as she also finishes her wine and tucks her jean-clad legs under her.

Lexa rubs a tired eye as she finishes the daily versus weekly to do list for Clarke’s Very Expensive Plant, writing the last task with a flourish as she passes the scrap piece of paper to Clarke proudly.

Clarke takes it, blue eyes scanning doubtfully as she reads the instructions written in Lexa’s neat cursive.

“And, if I follow these instructions, I will keep this monster alive?” Clarke says skeptically as she tugs Lexa up off the couch with her to head into the kitchen, where she pins the list to the front and center of the fridge. Lexa, so entranced by the way Clarke’s hair shifts to reveal her pulse thrumming in the hollow of her neck, almost misses the question.

“I mean, that’s the hope,” Lexa stammers distractedly, ripping her eyes away from Clarke’s neck to somehow get lost in her eyes instead.

Hopeless Gay, Lexa can practically hear Anya’s voice echo within the confines of her skull. She crosses her fingers behind her back and goes for broke.

“It’s a Monstera, not a monster, but yeah. I think that will help. I’m also happy to come back and check in on you- I mean, it, next week? If you wanna make sure it’s going well?”

Lexa holds her breath as Clarke turns from where she has been staring at the schedule to meet Lexa’s eyes, hardly daring to hope.

“If that was a roundabout way of asking if I’d like to go on a second date, the answer is yes, I’d love to.” Clarke says sincerely as she steps forward into Lexa’s bubble and wraps a warm hand around Lexa’s. Lexa’s head swims with Clarke’s perfume as she dumbly nods her head yes, unable to scramble for words when Clarke is this close.

Clarke laces their fingers together as they walk towards the door slightly later, Lexa regrettably mentioning her self imposed bedtime that is fast approaching as she has to go to the flower market at the eye-watering hour of four am. Clarke cringes in sympathy, handing Lexa her jacket as they both linger in the doorway, neither wanting to be the first to say goodbye.

“I’ll see you soon?” Lexa ventures as she shrugs into her jacket, scrambling for the courage to lean in and brush a goodbye kiss on Clarke’s rosebud lips.

Clarke nods slightly, her eyes fastened to Lexa’s mouth as sapphire eyes darken slightly. Lexa feels her stomach swoop as Clarke scoots forward and laces a hand behind Lexa’s neck to press the sweetest kiss to her lips.

“Bye,” Clarke whispers as she pulls away, brushing a wisp of hair out of Lexa’s field of vision as Lexa’s eyelashes flutter slightly.

“Bye,” Lexa murmurs as she steps back slightly, not trusting herself to say anything else in fear that she won’t be able to pry herself away.

Clarke shuts the door with a smile, leaving Lexa to float home on cloud nine.

///

Lexa’s heart feels like it might explode when a very confused delivery boy appears at her shop door with a bouquet of long stemmed salmon colored roses, handing them over silently when Lexa moves to grab them, almost snapping her neck on a container of greenery as she trips her way back to her workbench with a goofy grin on her face.

She buries her nose into the bouquet as her fingers search for the tag, plucking it out to read-

I haven’t yet looked up what your bouquet means, but I did some Googling of my own after you left last night, and landed on these. Pretty girls deserve flowers from their admirers, even if they happen to own their own plant shop. Thinking of you.

-C

Lexa glows with happiness the rest of the day, placing the bouquet on her kitchen counter before she slips the card into her journal later that night.

She falls asleep smiling.

#plant/flower shop au #clarke x lexa #clexa #if any one has a title suggestion for this i am all ears #a little fluff since i have been force feeding y'all angst lately #chapter 2

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voxasks · 1 month

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🫐idk how to do this so i'm just gonna yap i have no clue what my personality type is but one of my favorite characters that i mildly related to was an INTJ 4w5 so i just took that and ran with it. uhh idk if i'm an introvert or extrovert it just depends on my mental state ig. i've been kinda tweekin recently so i'm loud in public like this dude one time caught me saying some of the most devious ahh shii known to man so i pointed at some random dude and blamed bro for saying it and then i sang the my little pony theme song but like 4 octaves higher. my friends hate me i also have no morals whatsoever so i'm cooked. the only reason why i'm not some bonkers dude on a documentary is because i'm a pathetic loser who doesn't actually go through with anything, i just lose interest or go 'nah this is way too much work' i'm a dude and 4'10" (idk lowkey my fault for not taking nutrition supplements when my doctor told me to) and idk what i like because i just have a hyperfixation and then i go batshit over it for several months (my longest hyperfixation was on a character for a year and i spent like 5k on merch of that character and now i highkey hate waking up to see the character's face literally everywhere) i dislike greasy foods with a burning passion, animals of all types (including insects) but actually i highkey used to like sharks but then they got popular online and agreeing with people on tiktok brings me physical pain. oh yeah i also dislike a lot of people online if they disagree with my opinion but depends on my mood because if i'm feeling mildly upset then i spam them with replies and tell them i love them and for them to have a good day but in the most toxic positive way possible and if i'm having a happy day then i do the same thing but i also slander everything i know about them for hobbies i love getting attention, positive or negative like honestly it's so fun. i go on social media a lot i'm pretty much just terminally online except i don't keep up w/ gossip majority of the time because i have no clue who celebrities are. oh yeah i love getting concern i never follow their advice or whatever all i do is make a joke about how pathetic my existence is and they rather don't care or they show concern and either way i get pissed so maybe i should stop with that lmao tbh whenever i read through the things i write i literally sound like those 'quirky >w<' 2020 gacha life ocs i feel like everyone with an ounce of humanity would realize i'm straight up embarrassing anyways ily have a good day!! take care of yourself :3333

“yeah i'm gonna be real fucking honest with you kid—halfway through your life story i genuinely forgot i was looking through my inbox and thought i was reading an article on a serial killer. you say you don't have morals but then you draw the line at greasy foods and tiktok? i mean alright sure but then you go on to bully other people on the internet over a bad mood? i'd say get a life but i'm pretty sure if you tried you would have dropped yourself on the head like you were as a kid. you sound like someone who has over ten restraining orders filed against them and they still have no clue as to why. well fuck that's ten minutes of my time i'm never taking back—you have me mourning over lost time when i'm a demon in literal fucking hell, congrats. let me guess, you'll probably celebrate by being a keyboard warrior in the comments of this post, like if junko enoshima was online. yeah, that's the energy this is giving.”

based off of the 200 follower event.

“🫐 — tell vox about yourself and he’ll give you his inner thoughts about you.”

#ooc : PLS IM SORRY NONNIE I DONT ACTUALLY THINK THESE OF YOU #.voxasks 200 event #VOX IS JUST VOXIN #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rp #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel roleplay #hazbin hotel ask blog #hazbin rp #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox

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milkytheholy1 · 1 year

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Turtle Power! : Part 1

A/N: What if you included even more turtles in the hit tmnt movie, TMNT:Turtles Forever? This isn't an X Reader fic and takes places in the 2012 universe...well, for the start at least.

Tmnt masterlist. Ultimate masterlist. Turtle Power! Masterlist.

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"Donnie, what's happening!" Leo bellowed out, lunging forward to take down a Kraang bot. His blades sliced threw the alien metal with ease before he kicked the slimy brain into next week. Another bot launched at him, luckily the leader in blue was able to duck away in time. Leo grabbed the Kraang's head, kneeing him in the face, "Donnie!" he was becoming irritated.

Donnie's fingers worked magic along the alien keyboard, though most of it was guesswork when it came to this sort of technology. Donnie grounded his teeth together, sweat pooling along the edges of his purple bandana, "Yes, I can hear you, y'know!" he snarled out, clearly under a lot of pressure.

In the next second a bunch of files illuminated the giant monitor, a huge grin appearing on the tech wiz's face, "Aha! Yes, I got it!" he cheered. Though now began the tedious task of going through every file and finding the Kraang's true plan.

"Less talking and more fighting!" Raph growled out, ramming the pointed tip of his sai into the unsuspecting head of a Kraang droid. He tore the head from its body with a vicious war cry, though Mikey just assumed it was a generic yell. Speaking of which, the youngest brother was slinking around the room; jumping from one bot to another.

Though his energy wasn't particularly the same as usual, no, he wasn't so fully invested in the fight as any other day. Mikey landed on the shoulders of a Kraang bot, trying to pilot him around like he was wearing a mech suit, "I still can't believe we're missing Halloween for this." he grumbled, most definitely sour.

Leo sliced the legs of the bot Mikey was riding, watching him wobble before tucking into a forward roll and landing haphazardly onto the floor, "We can celebrate Halloween tomorrow, Mikey." he compromised. The young teen still moped around, crossing his arms along his chest, "It's not the same though, this is the one day of the year where we're not freaks...and we're MISSING it!"

"Mikey, do you really think some dumb holiday is more important than stopping the Kraang?" Raph argued, plucking another head off of his sai; he hated when they got stuck. Mikey didn't even get a chance to open his mouth before a loud and whiney scream interrupted the group. Donnie's body came flying over to them, taking Raph out as punishment for his sins.

The two remaining brothers looked over at them in shock, "Donnie, what happened?" Leo questioned, lightly shaking his brother awake. Donnie waited until his eyes stopped spinning and the room was no longer a pretty shade of yellow, "Ugh, my head feels like an exploding hotdog." he groaned out.

"MMmm, hotdogs..." Mikey's stomach rumbled, "I know Mikey Jr, I know." he sympathised with his belly's cries for food. Raph released a sound halfway between a groan and a growl, but he soon shoved Donnie's body off of him. "Get off of me, Donnie!"

"What happened up there? Were you able to get any intel?" Leo continued to interrogate the poor genius. Donnie shook his head, "I was in the middle of it when-"

"When what?" Leo asked, confused. Donnie's eyes widened, he pointed a finger to the second floor where a huge robot stood, "I bumped into him." Donnie's voice got smaller as he spoke. The group stared with wide eyes and slacked jaws as the huge robot bashed its fists together, menacing pink eyes glaring into their souls.

"He seems...nice?" Mikey whispered out, his head shrinking further and further into his shell. Raph shook his head, gripping his sais a little tighter than before, "I've seen bigger." he smirked. Leo shook his head, "Don't get cocky, Raph. We've never seen the Kraang use something like this before, we don't know what it's capable of."

"Well it doesn't know what I'm capable of either." the red-banded turtle beamed, charging at the giant robot. Leo groaned, "Raph- you can't just- Raph!" he darted off after his sibling, dodging laser fire and swinging fists. Donnie and Mikey shared a similar look before Mikey shrugged his shoulders and joined the fight.

Donnie, however, decided on a different approach. The lanky turtle crept around the moving robotic bodies, avoiding their gaze as he drove to find any available computer. With a little luck, he managed to find one with very few guards, but he soon took those out.

"Now if I can just figure out what the Kraang are up to, maybe I could put a stop to it right now." he mumbled to himself, his tongue sticking out as a sign of full concentration. Donatello continued to tamper and peek into folders and unnamed documents, eventually finding a plan for a portal of some kind.

But in a language he had no way of deciphering here, there wasn't much use for the plans. Growing irritated that all his attempts so far seemed futile, Donnie pounded a fist against the motherboard beneath him. The machine sizzled and sparked, the keys becoming hot on his fingers, scorching the very tip of his skin.

Pulling back with a yelp, Donnie watched as a jet of bright pink light shot from the control panel he was at all the way along the walls and across the ceiling until it pinged against a large metallic structure on the other side of the room.

"Uh oh."

"Do you dudes smell burning?" Mikey questioned, sniffing the air a little more. Raph was holding his own up against the robot, using his sais as a barricade as he pushed away the robot's foot; moments from crushing him.

"Mikey, this is no time to be thinking about pizza!" he huffed out, a little out of breath. Mikey cringed at the thought, his stomach going ten to a dozen, "No, it's not that!" he whined. Leo slashed one of the many casualties from this night, shifting to stand beside Mikey, "Hang on, I think he's onto something."

"Ugh, not you too." Raph cried out, rolling away from the metal fist that just narrowly missed his face. Leo grabbed Raph by the shell as he ran past, jostling the poor teen, "Smell." was all he said. Raph rolled his eyes but reluctantly agreed, "Huh, what do you know? Mikey was right about something."

"I heard that." Mikey pouted. The next thing the brothers knew the burning smell grew and grew until they could physically see smoke coming from a huge metal doorway. With a flickering light, the doorway seemed to explode with colour, turning from pink to purple to the most enchanting shade of green then ending with a sky blue.

Its swirling gaze was hypnotic.

Donnie rushed back to the group, his mind buzzing, "Guys! Guys! You are not going to believe what just happened-" he looked up at the swirling portal, "Nevermind, I see you're all caught up." he gulped. Leo turned to Donnie with a frown, "What did you do?" he sassed.

"Me? You think I somehow did this?" Donnie pointed an accusing finger at himself, more so out of disbelief than acceptance of blame. Leo shrugged his arms, letting his katanas hang in a looser grip, "Well you were the one messing with it."

Alas, Donnie couldn't continue any further for something was causing the portal to ripple. Any remaining Kraang bots that were beside the portal were perched and awaiting with guns held high. Seems as though they too weren't expecting this.

The room went eerily quiet, there weren't any sudden movements, just a short pause; stagnant air. Out of nowhere, a spinning weapon flew out from the portal, its edges jagged and its aura lit in flames. It wrapped around one of the Kraang bots, pulling it back in through the blue waves like a fish on a hook. Its metal fingers clawed at the ground, but it served no purpose in delaying its demise.

The brothers looked on in shock, whatever was on the other side of that portal was potentially dangerous and seemingly struck at random. Leo clenched his fists, alerting the brothers to be on guard while they waited for more to happen.

More sound alerted out from the portal, and with their lack of an advantage point, they wouldn't be able to see anything from the ground floor. There was a lot of whooping and laughing, some sounds of metal against metal and fists being pounded into something hard.

Leo's eyes were white, his lips set into a permanent frown. He nudged his head to the side, slinking across the edges of the room while his brothers followed in a similar route. Once they had obtained higher ground, the group could finally get a grasp on what was happening; this Halloween was getting awfully confusing.

Setting their sights on the fight below, Donnie could make out four figures fighting against the remnants of the Kraang. Their weapons seemed to fizzle and glow with each swing, almost by magic. Donnie shook his head with an amused smile, don't be silly, magic isn't real he chortled to himself.

"Woah, are you dudes seeing this too?" Mikey hummed out, in awe as he watched these mysterious figures fight. Raph wanted to see their faces, wanted to know who he had the pleasure of fighting next, "I'm gonna get a better look." he sounded out before jumping down, though thankfully he remained in the shadows; much to Leo's relief.

It wasn't long after Raph had left until his brothers joined him, as they slowly approached the figures, their voices sounded out.

"Oh ho hooo, looks like we got a whole Kraang-kebab! Do you think it'll taste as disgusting as it looks?"

"Leo-" a voice growled out, "Would you just focus, we need to figure out how this whole situation happened!"

"Do you think it was magic?" a rather innocent voice beamed, their voice wavery and rather dreamlike.

"Considering magic is the clown of science, it's safe to say no, Miguel, not magic." a more robotical and sarcastic voice replied.

"Wait a minute, are they using our names, dudes?" Mikey whispered, Leo shook his head in utter disbelief, "It can't be, maybe we're just hearing things. R-right, Donnie?"

Said genius was rubbing his chin deep in thought, "Well, it has happened once before. Who's to say it can't happen again?" Raph pushed past his brothers, cracking his knuckles and neck, "Well I ain't hiding no longer, I think it's time we give our otherwordly counterparts a warm New York welcome."

Before Leo could stop him, Raph charged out from the shadows and leapt onto the shell of the first turtle he saw. Unfortunately for Raph, this happened to be the biggest and buffest turtle in the room.

"Ugh, Raph-a-doodle, buddy? I think you got a little something on your back." Leon smirked, Raph quirked a brow and turned around to reveal a smaller, angrier turtle on his back. Mikey erupted into hearts, "Oh mi gosh! Another turtle! Can we keep him?" his eyes throbbing with love.

Raph plucked the turtle from his back, holding him at arm's length as to avoid the sais and fists being flung his way.

"Huh, he's a feisty little guy."

"Interesting, a diamondback freshwater turtle..." Donnie hummed, slanted eyes examing the specimen as he rapidly shifted and rustled around in Raph's grip.

"Let go of me, you mutant copycats!" Raphael growled out. Raph flicked his gaze to Donnie, who was still studying the unnamed turtle, "Perhaps we should bring him back to my lab so I can further investigate."

"Let go of our brother." came a stern voice from the dark, three pairs of white eyes were staring back at the group. Slowly emerging, three more turtles were cast in the light, "There's more of them!" Mikey screamed.

Raphael landed a painful kick to Raph's fist, accidentally dropping the turtle as he quickly scurried to join his mysterious brothers. Leonardo raised the bladed tip of his katana to their counterparts, "We don't want any trouble."

"Hmmm, that's gonna be a problem. We've been told we're very troublesome, by like MANY bad guys." Leon smirked, perched against his Odachi. Raph began sweating, he was feeling awfully nervous, was there a certain smell in the air right now?

"You guys are us?" Donatello muttered out, examining each turtle with a sturdy gaze, "And you're all different species? That's new." he whistled. Donnie folded his arms, ever one for dramatics, he scoffed aloud "And you're all the same, rather boring if you ask me."

"Now, er, let's not be mean guys." Raph tried to settle the looming fight between both geniuses. Leonardo shook his head in agreement, "For once a Raph that speaks logic." he joked, earning a rather loud groan from his hot-headed brother.

"Enough joking around, how are they even here!" he barked out, waving his arms at the brightly coloured counterparts. Donatello went into deep thought again, the dull ache of his fingertips giving him a momentary hypothesis.

"Maybe when that Kraang tech burned my fingers, it took some DNA samples. A-and that was sent through the computer and helped power the portal."

"DNA can't power things, it's not a conduit. Perhaps, it simply allowed the portal for a more refined search." Donnie huffed, but he couldn't lie and say this wasn't a stimulating experience for his brain.

Donatello nodded his head, "You're right, this device must have been a teleportation device or had some sort of interdimensional properties. My DNA was essentially a jumping-off point and brought the closest thing it could find that would relate to it."

"If that's the case, Donnie. Then how come it wasn't those other versions of us who were stuck in the 80s?" Leonardo questioned. Donatello shook his head, "I'm not sure, I'd have to run more tests."

"Tests are easy, it's answers that are hard." Raph slumped, Donatello looked up in amazement, "You're so right, that's genius!" the small praise caused Raph to blush a deep crimson.

"This is some great bonding and all, but, uh...what dimension is that one from?" Leon pointed to the large creature in the darker depths of the huge Kraang lab. Its mechanical movements finally brought its face into the light, crushing any object that was in its way, "Aw man, I forgot about that guy." Michelangelo whined out.

Leonardo and his brothers pulled out their weapons, stuck in a defensive stance, "Get out of here while you can, we'll make sure to keep the portal open and- HEY LET GO OF ME!" he screamed out. A large green hand grabbed the brothers, fast legs rushing back to the Kraang portal. Leonardo had a clear view of the giant robot as it got smaller and smaller the further away they got.

Soon everyone had made it through the doorway and landed in a pile on the ground. Leonardo jumped up as fast as he could, running back to the portal before it could close. With an outstretched arm, he ran, his muscles straining, "No, no, no, no, no!" he rushed out. The view of the robot got smaller and smaller until it disappeared just like the portal.

"WHY DID YOU DO THAT?" Raphael yelled, dragging his sai under Raph's throat. The other Raph gulped, his adam's apple bobbing onto the sharp object. Everyone was tense, the situation had clearly escalated and there didn't seem like there was a way to bring it back down.

"Hehe, l-listen, erm, me? T-that thing would have crushed us, I-I called for a tactical retreat."

"Tactical retreat? You're starting to sound like Lameonardo, you trying to be a wannabe leader?" Raphael growled. Raph quirked a brow, Leon stepped in to help him, "Actually, he was our leader. Yeah, for like a real long time too."

This new burst of information stunned the other brothers, Raphael was so affected by it that he backed away entirely, looking to Raph with wide eyes.

"Y-you were the leader? Like, an actual leader? Not just a one-day replacement?"

"Ugh...yeah? A-are you not the leader?" he asked back, his shoulders broadening. Michelangelo jumped up from the turtle pile, jumping up and down and pointing to where the portal once stood, "Dudes, what are we gonna do about the Kraang?"

"Mikey's right, that things gonna tear up the entire city." Donatello reasoned, worry flashing behind his eyes. Leonardo stood tall, trying his best to comfort his brothers, "We just have to hope April, Casey and Master Splinter can handle it until we get back."

Leon wrapped a casual arm around Leonardo's shoulders, "Sooooo, since you guys will be staying a little longer...how about a tour?"

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