#they all got fruity ass poses too

[rembrandts-spraypaint]

I wanna take a second to just appreciate the concept art for The Warriors, the costume designer did NOT fuck around and absolutely cooked with these I love them so so so much. Something I especially love is the small differences between these and the final costumes in the movie! here's a few I noticed.

Cowboy has freckles, a brown hat, gold circular belt buckle, and almost Swan blonde hair.

Fox has facial hair, red hair, the brightest jeans, no belt, and an open vest.

Cochise has facial hair.

Snow has facial hair, a different belt, and more reddish pants.

Swan has a crescent moon belt buckle.

Vermin has NO body hair, a mole, no studs on his bracelet, and a circular belt buckle.

Cleon has brown pants and a different necklace.

Rembrandt has facial hair, no belt, and a pink/purple bag.

[icallhimjoey]

Hi! Hope you're doing well (I've never submitted a request before, should I like buy you dinner?)

I was looking at the photo of joe looking kver his shoulder with the sunglasses on and getting major "You and Joe on holiday, lounging by the pool and when he looks over his shoulder he sees you getting drinks at the bar with the bartender flirting with you" vibes

I was wondering if you could write something like that? I love your work btw it's amazing!

cool cool cool cool cool fine fine im totally normal about this NORMAL normal so normal noooormaaaallll fine fine fine Wordcount: 1.7K

---

Just A Man

You'd seen him look. Had felt him look, his eyes burning holes into your back. It made your already slightly sunburnt skin, warm from laying out for hours already, flush even more.

He would've looked anyway, you knew. But it would've just been a quick glance to see if you were getting on okay. If you were at the bar to get drinks, like you said you would. To sneak a look at your bum in your bikini bottoms - Joe was just a man, after all.

But sweet giggles just loud enough for the wind to carry them over to his ears were what made him stare. First from behind his sunglasses, but then those got moved to rest on top of his head so you could see him look.

So he could see him look.

Like the bartender even fucking noticed that one guy on the other end of the pool narrowing his eyes at him, squinting because of the sun, posing absolutely zero threat.

"That your new boyfriend?" Joe was already asking questions before you'd even let go of the glass you'd handed him.

"Hmm? Your holiday fling?"

You rolled your eyes as you sat down on the sunlounger next to him, towel still wet from where you'd laid on it earlier.

"Please." you smiled, but Joe just kept going.

"Your Italian Stallion? Little hunk of meat for on the side?"

You flung the back of your hand against his chest in a smack as you took a sip of your drink, and Joe laughed as he took hold of it and kept it there.

"I was trying to practice my language skills," you'd not been struggling to keep up your duolingo streak just for shits and giggles. Learning a foreign language had become a part of your daily routine and you'd been keeping it up for too long to not take it seriously. Ordering a couple of drinks and making small talk was exactly the right thing to do to see if you could manage it in Italian.

"He gets to listen to you speak Italian?"

You'd been refusing to say a single word out loud to Joe.

"That guy?" Joe looked over his shoulder again and pressed your hand to his chest so it laid flat against his heart, using it as his own to look extra aghast.

You felt how your warm skin stuck together, the stick from sunscreen mixing with the stick from spilled sugary cocktail.

"Si." you joked, smacking your lips after another fruity sip, and you smiled at him.

Joe moved the hand you'd lost to him up to his lips to press a kiss against your fingers, tasting summer, before he let it go.

"Si? That's all I get?" Joe asked over his glass as he went for a sip of his own.

You carefully placed your drink on the tiles in between your sunloungers, out of the direct sun, and ignored Joe's pleading eyes.

If you looked, you'd cave, so you didn't.

Something about his eyes.

And he was well aware, make no mistake.

If he knew what was good for him, he'd slide those sunglasses right back down onto his nose again.

"For now." you simply said, standing up and bending to straighten out your towel, folding corners back where the wind had blown them over. It gave Joe the perfect view of your ass, skin tanned and dewy from when he'd rubbed sunscreen over every inch of you earlier. A little sliver of tanline was visible from where your bikini bottoms had shifted a little, and, listen. Joe just couldn't help it, okay?

Joe was just a man, after all.

He was spilling his drink down his chest before he could even really understand what he was doing.

With his drink still at his mouth in a slow sip, one hand had reached across, fingers splayed out wide, grabbing you around the side of a hip. His finger tips dug into soft warm flesh and pulled you right back; half onto his lap, half into the spot in between his legs.

You didn't audibly react.

Just grinned.

That was how Joe knew that you'd likely bent over to faff with your towel exactly for this outcome.

You, as it turned out, were just a girl, you see. One who didn't mind feeling extra wanted.

"Well then you can just sit here, for now."

A possessive arm curled around your stomach far enough for his palm to squeeze your opposite side, and you got pulled into him tightly.

Joe squeezed extra tight when you bent to pick up your drink from the floor and then leant back and got comfy, all pressed up against his chest.

From his movement, you felt how he snuck a look back over his shoulder.

"Is he watching?" you whisper-yelled, and tried your best at suppressing a giggle as Joe quickly snapped his head back.

"Who?"

"My new boyfrie–" you squeaked as Joe shut you up with a pinch to your side. Joe could dish out the jokes fine, but something about you calling another man your boyfriend was absolutely unacceptable.

It just made you grin, biting your teeth into your bottom lip as you accepted lips cold from the ice cubes to the very top of your shoulder.

You were going to end up with weird tanlines if you were going to sit like this for too long, but it was too nice to really care about anything else besides Joe's touch. Besides his grip. Besides being close together, bare skin to bare skin, laid out on a sunlounger together.

You didn't mind the effect of Joe's slight neediness. That small little grain of insecurity that made him need to show others that he got to touch you in ways they couldn't.

There was no real threat though.

Not really.

You both understood that a smile at a stranger didn't mean anything.

Joe was an actor who put those big wet round eyes to use on others all the time.

You could laugh at an Italian bartender who flexed his muscles as you mixed the drinks you ordered and acted like the love of his life had just walked up, like he probably did for every other girl that had as much flesh on show as you had.

It was all harmless, which was exactly why it was fun to keep pushing it a little. To keep poking the edges of Joe's jealousy, the borders of his tendency to cling, just enough for him to feel the need to remind you that, hello, he was your boyfriend. It was him you were meant to be looking at.

Which was exactly why, when you finished your drinks, you sat up, still in between his legs and cheekily suggested getting another round, already looking over at the bar to see if the same bartender was there still.

That got you pulled right back into him, one arm hooked around your neck that got your ear close to his mouth whilst his other arm held your arms in place so you couldn't fight his grip.

Like you were going to.

You easily let Joe hold onto you whichever way he wanted.

"You must think you're so funny," Joe's low voice buzzed into your ear, lips pressed to the shell of it. "Hm?"

It was fun to toy with him like this, this weird form of play sent tingles right down your spine.

"I do, actually," you grinned, "Così divertente."

And... Joe was just a man.

Were you playing with fire?

You absolutely were.

The teeth that nipped at your earlobe made you feel the burn, breath hitching, body tensing up.

Jesus, you were in public.

Joe was biting and mouthing at your ear and you were in public.

There were appropriate ways to be affectionate in public, but this was practically foreplay.

The way you'd laid on the same sunlounger whilst keeping two of them occupied with your towels was probably already annoying enough to every other person visiting the hotel pool. They didn't need the public display of affection to be taken to another level right there at the poolside.

"You know what?" Joe whispered, words hiding in your hair. "Go ahead. Go order us another round of drinks. You're going to do it in Italian."

You moved back just enough to see Joe's face.

"And you're going to walk real slow."

The sunglasses that were still perched on top of his head got moved down to hide his eyes.

"Take your time. Really enunciate your words in your best Italian accent."

You dipped your chin to give Joe a scandalised look that was just a hair removed from a smile, just a fraction of a second away from a giggle.

Before you were up on your feet, Joe handed you both the empty glasses, tried to sound as seductive as he possibly could when he said, "Roll your Rs loud enough for me to hear."

With a tap to your bum and a blush deepening your sunkissed skin, you scurried along.

You ordered in English.

Stuttered and mumbled through the order.

Looked over your shoulder to see Joe sat on his sunlounger the wrong way 'round with his legs spread wide, one foot touching tile on either side, elbows digging into his thighs.

Watching you.

Sent you on your way with a little task and was now watching you.

It was one thing feeling Joe's eyes burn into your back when you felt in charge and confident ordering drinks at the bar in Italian. It was a whole other thing to feel embarrassed and shy, all hot and bothered, stumbling through your order in English whilst Joe watched your every move from a distance.

He didn't look away once, and even from where you were stood at the bar, you could see how a small smirk pulled his mouth to the side.

Where his jaw was tensed before, now his tongue was working along in the inside of his cheek.

That was how you knew that he'd likely sent you over to get drinks in the way that he had done exactly for this outcome.

Joe was just a man, after all.

---

The Taglisted

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add yourself, message me

[silly-l1ttle-guy]

drop every headcanon of the bucci gang NOW!

ON IT BOSS!!!

--- pookie bear bruno hcs first <3

BRUNO BUCCIARATI IS 100% GAY FOR LEONE ABBACCHIO

they just kinda live together

bruabba holds a special place in my heart

bruno's probably stressed out 24/7

VERY FEMININE GUY

hes got soft features yk?

probably spends like 3 hours doing his hair in the morning

ISTG HE PROBABLY SMELLS SO GOOD

I like to think that he legally adopted Fugo after fugso bugso joined that gang

SHUT UP IT MAKES ME HAPPY

poor guy overworks himself WAY too often

he also has the most gorgeous eyelashes you'll ever see

and they're natural, too

THIS MAN HAS EYEBAGS

he's tired af half the time, idk what you expected

he tries to help fugo control his anger (bc he's a loving mother) (giorno does it better tho)

i reckon bruno's pansexual tbh, he just seems like he wouldn't give a shit about his partner's gender

he likes going fishing

brought Abbacchio along one time

abba got seasick and threw up

he likes to accessorize his hair (hence the mitochondria hair clips)

sometimes he'll let the others accessorize his hair, too

trish makes it look really cute

abba makes it look stunning (bc it's his boyfriend)

narancia just puts random shit in his hair

Mista sings loudly (and badly) to be a little shit while he does Bruno's hair (it turns out surprisingly ok)

giorno deadass just puts a shit ton of stars in his hair

fugo gets mad and almost rips a chunk of Bruno's hair out

Bruno's guilty pleasure is midnight snacks

abbacchio caught him eating a whole ass tub of ice cream while watching il postino: the postman at like 2 in the morning

they watched it together and cuddled afterwards

hot goth

gay for bruno

he probably watches those make up youtube channels

if he didn't join passione he could be a make up artist

lets trish practice on him

HE SEES NARANCIA AS HIS SON AND YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE

he's full on protective of nara too

i like to give abbacchio sharper features when i draw him tbh

also a larger nose

and while we're at it, let's hook that bad boy (the nose)

he and bruno go on wine testing dates

he has very frequent and reoccurring nightmares

(its why he sleeps with bruno)

his parents cut contact when they found out he was a dirty cop :(

this man saw narancia on his first day in the gang and accepted his fate as a father LMAO

he's a gay man and you can't tell he's not. Never felt attraction towards women

he feels like time moves by too fast. Everything happens so quickly and he wishes he could go back and just relive certain parts of his life over and over again because he feels like everything happens so quickly now that he's older and it overwhelms him (this definitely isn't me projecting what're you talking about)

moody blues is sort of the representation of this

SENTIENT MOODY BLUES SUPREMACY BY THE WAY

Moody blues is curvy and i won't accept anything else

make moody look goddamn feminine

not too feminine obviously but like

moody looks like a woman compared to abbacchio

tells people he can't dance but he definitely can

just play the right music and give him enough wine and he'll be dancing like he's never danced before (only in private tho)

YOOUU CAN DANCE, YOOUU CAN JIIVVEEEEE~~

EVERYTIME I LISTEN TO HALF-DECADE HANGOVER BY WILL WOOD I JUST THINK OF ABBACCHIO

and maybe euthanasia by will wood too

not even kidding, abbacchio has the same body type as a greek god

also the strongest guy in the team

the guy that has a dream

GIORNO. WHERE DO I FUCKING START.

I love this weird ass fucking guy

gay for fugo. that's all I'm gonna say.

I KNOW HE ACTED FRUITY W/ MISTA BUT IT'S BC HE'S A LITTLE SHIT WHO LIKES TO FLIRT WITH HIS FRIENDS AS A JOKE

not abba or bruno tho (they're too old for his taste)

remember that one seen where he and mista are up against cioccolata (fuck him btw) and they do that gay ass pose?

prime example of giorno being a little shit

putting his hand down mista's pants was an accident by the way, he just said "fuck it" and went with it

he probably showed the gang the thing he could do with his ear

they had very mixed reactions

one day (before the gang) he woke up and saw his roots were blond and he just went like "sigh, guess I have to grow my hair out and become barbie

THIS MAN RIGHT HERE IS THE TWINK

also bc his dad is dio I like to think that he sunburns easily

he can also see really well and the dark

"It's so dark in here, I can't see shit!" "I can, there's a light switch over there."

everyone was confused as hell bc it was pitch black in that room

this man is gay. he likes BOYS and BOYS ONLY

i like to think Giorno's a mischievous lil guy

he does something silly then giggles and runs away

it's to make up for the fact that he didn't have a proper childhood

ALSO CURLY HAIR GIORNO SUPREMACY

his hair is gorgeous and luxurious AND SO FUCKING CURLY

he uses about 20 hair products every day (21 if he's going on a date)

he can calm fugo down so easily too

"I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU NARANCIA-" "Hi fugo!" "Oh, hey Giorno."

it's really scary (according to narancia and mista)

this man loves gardening

born to be a gardener, forced to be a gangstar

autistic (it runs in the family)

the stink

Mista is the type of guy who showers once or twice a week

he only washes his clothes when they get too dirty

I like to make this man a little wider honestly

GIVE THIS MAN SOME CHUB PLEASE

he's muscular, but he's gotta have a little meat on there too

I like to think that Mista outright REFUSES to shave

the only place that he can grow barely any hair is his face

never shaved his face. He doesn't have much facial hair and he'll be damned if he ever has to get rid of the little that he has

bffs with trish btw

they make fun of each other all the time

in a friendly way

he honestly looks the least gay out of everyone

probably bi with a heavy preference towards girls (he had a boyfriend one time tho)

STINKS SO BAD IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY

sometimes he shoves Narancia's face in his armpit for fun

I'm not even kidding Narancia probably threw up one time bc Mista stank so bad

older brother figure to EVERYONE

Giorno? that's his baby brother. Narancia? his favourite brother. Trish? his little sister. Fugo? that's his angry little brother.

I have so many mista headcanons it's unreal

his hair is so fucking curly istg

and it's black too

very short tho. also super greasy

his love language is physical touch, but not in the usual physical touch way

he won't really hug people or hold hands or just do something normal, oh no

my guy likes to pick people up and throw them over his shoulder

it's definitely not to show off how strong he is

definitely

everything about him is so crusty

he literally gets along with anyone tho

you can't tell me this guy DOESN'T smoke weed

not very often but like

once every month or two he'll get high to relax

he stopped after Giorno took over as boss (bc yk, drugs are a no no)

he probably thinks France isn't real tbh (but as a joke to annoy fugo)

I HAVE MORE MISTA HEADCANONS BUT I HAVE TO CUT IT SHORT BECAUSE I NEED TO MOVE ON TO THE OTHERS

angry strawb (lots of angst in this one)

fugo is deeply in love with Giorno (FUGIO FOR LIFE)

a little bit of angst warning btw

bc of his past, fugo HATES physical touch

if someone touches him he will flinch

very uncomfortable in crowded places

Mista's love language is physical touch, but he refrains himself from touching Fugo

it's really sweet

"HEY FUGO! Lemme give you a high-five! Wait, no, you don't like that. Have this cool rock I found instead!"

he's trying

Fugo really appreciates it

after phf, he let Mista be one of the two people who can touch him (the other person is Giorno)

Fugo just randomly hugged him one day and that was that

he was really distraught when he found out Narancia, Bruno and abba died

especially Bruno

like I said before, Bruno adopted him after he joined the gang, so he genuinely saw Bruno as a father figure

definitely called Bruno "dad" in private

He genuinely cried when he realized he missed Bruno's funeral

MOVING ON TO THE NON ANGSTY STUFF BC IM GONNA CRY

when he's a bad mood, he listens to music with Abbacchio (his dad's cool boyfriend who he looks up to)

will correct any and all spelling or grammar mistakes

nerd supreme

i like to headcanon that Fugo's albino

(MANGA FUGO FOR LIFE)

he's really sensitive to sunlight because of it

his vision isn't that good, too

it's not bad enough to the point where he can't read and all that, but it definitely bothers him

since it wasn't too serious, he got some glasses that corrected his vision

he only really wears them when he's reading now, but he used to wear them all the time when he was younger

GOD I HAVE A LOT OF FUGO HEADCANONS

sometimes he wakes up and there's just a bouquet of flowers at the foot of his bed (I WONDER WHO THAT WAS HMMMM)

Narancia's like a little brother towards him

he doesn't care that nara's a year older than him, that's his brother

genuinely will forget to eat if he isn't reminded (me projecting)

i have more but i'm gonna have to end it here

BABY BOY <3

I LOVE NARANCIA I HAVE A NARANCIA PLUSHIE (and a giorno one but that's less important)

he originally had really good eyesight, but after his eye got infected his eyesight just kinda went bad

his eyes expired

but seriously though (woah no way, silly little guy can be serious?), he's almost blind in the eye that got infected

doesn't wanna wear glasses bc "they'll ruin his reputation"

he's also really short compared to everyone else in the team

he's really insecure about it

can and will fight anyone who says something even remotely teases him for his height

low iron for sure (me too bud, me too)

Abbacchio just took on the role as his father and makes sure he eats all his food

"But it tastes badddd" "Eat it or I'll shove it down your throat. Also, it has good iron."

he ate it, but was very pouty about it the whole time

mista will point at things made of iron and say shit like "that's what you need" or "you should eat that to get your iron levels up"

skinny but he's really strong

my guy has a six pack but looks scrawny as hell

Mista's jealous of him lmao

"Why do YOU get a six pack?!" "because you're fat"

Mista then forced Narancia to smell his armpits (they were rank)

he does a lot of shit with Mista lmao

partners in crime

he got high with mista one time and never did it again

oddly flexible

he's probably dyslexic

the girlboss

live laugh love Trish

lesbian fr

she practices makeup on Abbacchio

another one that sees abba as a father figure

they point each other's nails and go shopping together

Mista's bff fr

they do karaoke together

yk that one tiktok sound that was that like "OH SHIT IT'S IN KOREAN" and then starts singing it perfectly anyway

that's her and Mista

Mista's the one that sings it lmao

i don't have that many headcanons for trish tbh

she likes to try out new hairstyles a lot

they're always short tho

she doesn't like growing out her hair

says it's too much of hassle

we love trish in the household

she has freckles (from doppio)

yk those weird ass dots diavolo has in his hair? she has those but they're less noticeable

talks shit about people with abbacchio

she likes ranting about stuff to giorno bc he's a good listener

big fan of scented candles

gave mista soap for his birthday

she has frequent headaches (something she got from doppio, bc i hc that he has frequent headaches)

ANYWAY THAT'S IT FOR NOW

do you wanna hear about my la squadra headcanons? Doppio and Diavolo??? PLEASE I HAVE SO MANY GOOD HEADCANONS JUST LET ME RANT-

[kirliao]

"oopsie daisy!” -- the bookworm & hangman headcanons

fandom/s: tgm x gallagher girls series

character/s: jake “hangman” seresin & liz “bookworm” sutton

a/n: i tried to actually write a whole ass au about them with a plot and everything but uhh words are failing me so; anyway this is for my hot girls who liked gallagher and also have tgm brainrot. and if it ends up just being me then thats okay

i just think that maybe their families (namely their moms) would be friends when they were younger and kept in touch as they grew older and got families

maybe not going to the same school or whatever (canonically, liz is from alabama and jake is ??? not ?? idk actually) , but they've went to the same summer camps. maybe their moms would put them together for playdates when they meet up

liz would always, always be shorter than jake. a fact that he'll hold over her for the rest of their lives

liz has prettier (and bigger) eyes, but she’ll tell him that his eyes are prettier just to spare his feelings

i also feel like she’d be the type to read him stories from the numerous story books she has

oh ... when she got published at nine years old ... perhaps they started to drift apart then. like they are still friends but when your friend gets published and gets renown at such a young age, there’s bound to be some feelings there

then liz starts attending this prestigious school and jake almost never gets to talk to her as much (she’ll write letters tho)

and ofc every time liz is brought up, he has to hear about “gallagher this, gallagher that” 

he’s still happy for her tho, he won’t be petty. he’ll just use his feelings about it all to motivate him to do really really good

i haven’t decided yet if there would be romantic interest from either of them

post-tgm, jake has a list of people he wants to make a call to, in order to tell them that he's safe and he's fine (kinda) and i like to think liz made the cut

ofc with the nature of gallagher academy, liz can't really say too much about her classes and the school but he knows she's some sort of science professor

i only say that because i feel like she'd be demo-ing some rad class experiments when he calls and he hears some muffled booms in the background from chemicals mixing or what not 

liz only lightly chastises him for going in the air anyway but feels very proud of what eventually happened

especially considering that she could never find herself doing what he did; she quit field work for a reason!! the coveops class was traumatic enough

he'd invite her to his side of the country at some point. tells her to bring "more sunscreen than you think you need" and she’ll grumble even though he’s pretty much right

she’ll show up at the hard deck, skinny as a toothpick (as always) and posing like she’s miss alabama by the doorway. except she’ll be in a baby blue jumper and she has a wide-brimmed hat and white-rimmed sunglasses and the dagger squad looks so confused that jake bounds on over (or skips) to this woman (who might be sunburned?) almost immediately. “oh, jaaake...” 

she’ll settle for some fruity drinks and she’ll enthrall the wso’s with her encyclopedic knowledge of some weapons stuff. just some light reading that she did before she arrived. liz likes doing her homework!

maybe even treat them with a story or two from her summers with jake. an embarrassing camp story or two that makes her a hit with payback

looking at both phoenix and halo and she thinks they would’ve made rad gallagher girls 

also got liz into thinking about how many more gallagher girls are there in the navy. more homework for later!

out of the girls, macey would be the one to really ask all about jake and even spams liz’s inbox for photo requests

jake would ofc give his best angles

bex is...unimpressed. cammie tries to be supportive and to calm everyone down in the groupchat so liz doesn’t have to mute it to enjoy her time in california

i do think cammie would secretly ship liz and jake, if only so she can see her best friend enjoy some romance 

i feel like jake would like giving her piggyback rides. just a vibe

he’d also do typical tall dude stuff like try and get liz to high five him but he keeps raising his hand every time which only makes her jump up and try to reach it anyway

[geminidentitycrisis]

The Scent of Leather and Hairspray

Present Mic/Hizashi Yamada x F!reader ONESHOT

(WARNINGS! - swearing)

---------

Sooooooo, I have a new favorite Pro, I guess haha

I hope you enjoy, and if you're underage, pretend you're older because I get it, I'd be Hot For Teacher too, but he's not a pedo sorry......

----------

You sighed as, upon exiting the store where you just purchased a frozen drink, the men you passed to enter that store started catcalling you. Just what you needed at the end of a rough day...

"Hey Honey, you'd be cuter if you smiled...!"

"Don't listen to that shit, babygirl, you're sexy as hell, c'mere and hang out a while...?"

Ignoring them the best you could, you kept walking, but they didn't take that very well. "You think you're too good for us, that it, stuck up bitch? Where you think you're goin'?"

You could hear their footsteps approaching behind you and turned to face them after sipping from your drink.

"Guys, please, I've had a hell of a day today and my quirk would probably scar you both for life and what do you say we just don't do this, huh?"

They exchanged glances before fixing you with threatening glares. "You think you're tough, babygirl? We'll see how tough you are when we get through teaching you some respect..." the first one said.

"HEY!"

A voice called from behind you and suddenly an arm was draped gently around your neck. You froze, being caught off guard tended to prompt a panic response when you were so tired.

You smelled leather and an overwhelming scent of hairspray.

"What's the trouble, my homies? Pretty sure ya heard the lady, she ain't jammin' to the vibe ya layin' down, ya dig? Beat it."

Heart skipping a beat or two, your eyes grew wide and a blush flooded your cheeks. "That voice...?!"

You whipped your head up to see the one and only Present Mic.

"Ah! I knew it! I knew I recognized your voice, I catch your radio show every day! You're the Sound Hero, Present Mic!" he flashed a grin down at you, winking.

"Oooh, you've got good ears, Listener! Thanks for Hypin' me up like that! Always great ta meet a FAAAN!" he responded in his commentator voice.

One of your would be tormentors interrupted angrily. "Hey, peacock head, why don't you mind your business?"

"PEACOCK...?! You boys best get ta steppin', aight?! Don't make me beat you up in fronta this pretty girl!" he replied in annoyance after his attention was so aggressively stolen from you.

The blush came back in full force and you couldn't contain a dreamy sigh as your lashes fluttered, eyes lidding contentedly now that you felt safe again.

*he said I was pretty~!* you thought.

"You believe this banana hair lookin' motherfucker? You're about to get your ass whooped, fruity!" the other threatened.

"Hey bro, watch your language! There's a lady here!" with the arm around your shoulders, Mic carefully raised it and guided you behind himself as the two started walking towards you both.

"Enough..."

Another voice came suddenly from the other side of the parking lot and everyone, with the exception of the blonde who was guarding you, turned to see Eraserhead.

Suddenly these jerks weren't so confident.

"Get lost, both of you, and go straight home or I'll bring the two of you in right now for loitering and harassment." he said calmly but with deep authority.

Mic crossed his arms, glaring at the duo as they ran off after a mere moment of hesitation, his cheeks puffed out slightly. "What a couple creepozoids! You okay, Pussy Cat...?" he quickly spun around to check you out, striking a dramatic pose while pointing at you, the trademark grin already back in place.

You smiled up at him with admiration sparkling in your eyes, clasping the cup you held in both hands and tight to your chest, stepping closer to him.

"Yes, thanks to you! You're my Hero~!"

Mic felt his own chest swell with pride a bit, the grin on his face getting bigger as he relaxed his stance and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

Usually by now the damsel has already flung herself on Aizawa, but not only were you praising him, you recognized him from just his voice and he was impressed at that.

"I can't believe I was just rescued by my favorite Pro, I am your #1 fan! Please, are you patrolling the city tonight? Please let me buy you a coffee or tea or something?? Just as a thank you...?"

Hizashi laughed rather loudly, one hand emerging from his pocket to be placed over his chest.

"HAHA! Aaaww, how can I say NO when you ask so sweetly?! Coffee sounds like a rockin' idea right about now!"

"Ugh, we don't have time for this, Mic..." Eraserhead complained tiredly.

Eyes rolling in exasperation, the blonde groaned twice as loud. "ugGHHH!! Don't be such a buzzkill, yo! I'll get you one, too, just chill!" with that, he trailed after you back into the store.

You watched as he doctored up the coffee you poured for him, blushing again when he threw a hint of a smirk your way, using the tip of his finger to lift the gold tinted shades he wore and showing you his emerald green eyes. "Don't worry, I'll pay for my boring friend..."

Smiling, you bounced on your heels. "Damn right you will, I'm not HIS fangirl, after all..."

This promoted a slight blush to his face, but he maintained that knockout grin. "Ha! Well, good thing his best friend is here at least, lucky for him I tagged along tonight, huh??"

"Lucky for both of us..." came your soft reply from over your shoulder as you turned to walk away, your hips swaying temptingly had definitely not escaped his notice.

He followed you to the checkout counter and placed some money beside yours, his ungloved fingertips brushing against your own when he does. Leaning down closer to you, he cocked his head, pushing his shades down his nose this time and raising a brow.

"Does my #1 fan have a name...?"

Your smile bloomed again, blushing up at him. "It's  _______...but I might prefer you calling me Pussy Cat...~"

Saying that last bit, you applied a sensual undertone which he picked up on instantly, making his blush spread over his face and grow darker as he chuckled in amusement.

When you guys walked out the door, you noticed Eraserhead seemed really annoyed but tried to ignore him, looking up at the Voice Hero hopefully.

"Listen, I know you're both busy, but if you have just one more second to spare, I can't tell you how much it would mean to me if I could get your autograph..."

Looking away awkwardly, he made a pained expression. "Aw, man, I dunno, we are kinda in a hurry here and stuff..."

You felt your heart sinking when he startled you with another loud laugh. "Hahaha, gotcha! JK! Of course I will, I ain't gonna leave ya hangin' like that, no way, that ain't my STYYYYYYYYLLLE!"

Giddy with excitement, you let out a tiny squeal, quickly fishing out a small notebook and pen from your purse as he set the cups down. When you handed it to him, his fingers brushed yours again, making you bite tenderly at your bottom lip.

They were so warm and soft...

He had started to whistle a cheerful little tune as he spun the pen between his fingers before starting to write in your book, it took longer than you expected, clearly longer than Eraser expected, too.

"Say goodbye to the girl, Mic, it's time to keep moving!" he didn't yell, exactly, too lazy, but he had raised his voice since last.

"YEAH, YEAH, I HEARD YA!!! Gimme a sec, ALRIGHT?!" the volume of the blonde's reply actually made your eardrums flinch and quiver this time, but you smiled anyway as he defended you again.

"There ya go! And hey, just to spite my buddy over there, I wouldn't mind walkin' ya home ta make sure ya get there safe."

The blush came right back, clutching the book to your heart, you gave a weak smile. "No, no, it's okay, really...I took up too much of your time already, and I only live around the corner from here..."

Eyes closing momentarily while you gathered yourself, you took a deep breath before confessing. "...I cannot express how grateful I am for you...not just for saving me tonight, but also for your talk show, hearing your voice over the radio gives me strength and motivation every week...it means the world to me...thank you..."

Beckoning him by flexing a finger, you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a sweet kiss against his cheek when he leaned in curiously.

Eyes widening, his whole face became scarlet red and his grin stretched from ear to ear. "AW, YEAH!"

He jumped, pumping his fists in the air and then proceeded to shoot you with his finger guns while  winking again. "Listen, I dropped my digits on that piece'a paper ya got there, Shawty...hit me up sometime if ya wanna chill! I'm down for whatever!"

You were caught off guard by that and checked the page he signed for you, finally reading what he wrote down as he rambled on as background noise about how he wasn't a creep like those other guys and you could say no without worrying about him making a scene, he just had to shoot his shot, I mean you DID kiss ME first ya know...

"For my #1 fan, _______...Thanks for the coffee and stay outta trouble! ...and maybe call or shoot a txt, if your feelin' this funky vibe, too? Live loud, Pussy Cat ;) don't ever let anyone try an put the mute on ya! XOXOX PRESENT MIC!!!"

Followed by his phone number, and there were little hearts drawn around the page.

You were already blushing when he surprised you again by returning your gesture and swooping in to plant a kiss on your cheek this time.

Reaching up to touch the spot, you smiled up at him shyly. "I can't wait...please be safe out there..."

"You got it! SEE YA SOON!" The Pro nodded vigorously, giving an enthusiastic wave of goodbye before grabbing his and Eraserhead's drinks, practically bouncing with every step.

It made you giggle, but you were trying not to get your hopes up too much. For all you knew, he gave his number out to every girl that asked him for a signature.

"Are you happy now...?" Shouta grumbled, taking the cup being offered as he turned to resume patrolling. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! HECK YEAH I AM! I'M ON CLOUD NINE RIGHT NOW, I JUST MET MY FUTURE WIFE!!!!!!!!"

You heard him very clearly, the blush traveling all the way down your neck this time, and you couldn't help another small giggle, your heart fluttering with happiness like the wings of the butterflies in your belly.

He just had that effect on you.

Glancing down at the notebook in your hand as you sipped your quickly melting frosty, you noticed in the bottom right corner was a little arrow, below which was written the word "flip".

You looked up again but the two Pro Heroes were already gone.

Curiously, you flipped over the page.

MARRY ME?!?!!

a. YES!!!!!

b. a

c. b

That smooth sonuvabitch had you blushing and giggling all night.

[godofsexdrugsandrocknroll]

Kali took Blake's hentai out of her room and is now openly watching it in the living room, with Blake and other people still in the house.

The point where Kali should feel ashamed of what she’d done? Come and past - probably right around the time that the animated wolf faunus with the light gray hair, gray wolf ears and large, equally light gray eyes tried to speak around the length of cock pistoning in her mouth with little regard to the fact that this was the woman’s mouth and not, in fact, the pussy, that the human male was pounding relentlessly with spit flying everywhere.

“Iff shfo glurff muffar!” Indeed.

But truly, who could blame her? After years of dealing with her daughters absence, suddenly having Blake willing to live with them was a new experience and one she probably wasn’t dealing the best with. After all, most mothers wouldn’t dream of snooping the way she did. But for all that Blake Belladonna, one of the eight 24 year old “Heroes of Remnant”, inspired awe and hope in the people of Remnant and even more in the faunus community, well...Kali remembered the little girl who’d once seen a package of fruit snacks with red gummy fish, promptly ripped it open and devoured the bag before rolling on the floor, spitting chunks of the fruity treat while disgustedly proclaiming “cherry flavored!” over and over again.

Charismatic, impassioned leader of the Faunus Civil Rights Coalition or not, there was a distance between mother and daughter created by the latter’s 12 year absence in her mothers life.

They tried of course, but Blake was used to her freedom and Kali was a creature of habit, perpetually uncaring of what many called “the line” but still desperately trying to reconnect with her daughter.

So the fact that Kali scoped out the usual spots for teenage contraband when she cleaned her daughters room really shouldn’t come as a surprise. Ghira certainly hadn’t been when Kali had, giggly as she approached, revealed the contents of a lock box Blake hid under piles of increasingly tiny and intricate undergarments. Granted it was just old photos of them together, a cheap plastic ring with a cartoonish lion heard stretching down to the knuckle and pieces of fabric that smelled of the two of them rather than anything else, but it was the thought that mattered.

She of course neglected to mention to Ghira where she had found it, amidst of a sea of panties, thongs and even a g-string or two. Where she was curious, Ghira would have been ill.

So she’d kept snooping, impressed not just at the collection of underthings her daughter owned (and very amused that her own predilection for the sexier, the better had been passed onto Blake), but at the false bottom that had been discovered and...well, novelty might be the right word for things like the crotchless panties she found there.

Then she’d found other things. A collection of muscle magazines hidden carefully behind a dresser that had seen use judging by the crinkled paper, but not recently given the finger shaped spots on the otherwise dusty covers. Lube carefully stacked behind her books.

A chest full of devices, from dildos to wands to toys and more than a few strap ons. And while Kali was surprised at the amount, she was less so when she remembered that her daughter was in a relationship with a rather...well, the polite term would be ‘generously well endowed’ blonde who was openly vulgar about what the two of them got up to behind doors; when it was just Yang (said blonde) and Blake, in what they thought was the privacy of an empty room.

The collection of nearly three dozen cases advertising Mistralian hentai hidden in a crawl space however had thrown Kali for a loop. And, well, you know what they say about curiosity and cats.

And so Kali stared wide eyed at the covers depicting cutesy anime girls, most of them faunus, in various poses and stages of undress. There was Faunus Fuck Frenzy, vol. 32 - where apparently three faunus best friends were captured in a jungle and fucked into full blown ahegao faces by tribal looking, human natives if the cover was anything to go by.

Watashi no kōkō no tōnamentoāku - a dog faunus with short brown hair, floppy bloodhound ears and breasts the size of beach balls in nothing but a pair of spandex shorts and biceps, abs that were intimidating in their intensity...but was covered forehead to navel in semen, the bodies of unconscious teenage boys and their cocks of varying size left defeated on the ground in the cover’s background.

Others, too. One where the blue haired bluebird faunus was a loli and surrounded by leering men. Another where a golden haired, golden eyed snake faunus had her faunus feature, her exceptionally long forked tongue, wrapped around a penis that was closer to the size of arm and was bulging with veins with her curvaceous body on all fours. A bushy tailed squirrel faunus bound, gagged in a contortionist’s nightmare with the shadow of a grinning man behind her.

By the time Kali saw it - it being what she was watching now, a lonely single faunus mother checking out a sex club while her children were being babysat - it was too late. Blake had arrived with her girlfriend Yang, Kali’s personal assistant, the ex-terrorist Ilia, Yang’s sister Ruby and her not-a-boyfriend Oscar Pine and the blonde, suit clad boyfriend of the Schnee heiress, Jaune Arc.

So Kali had used the kind of speed that made her a popular choice for stealth missions back when she was in the White Fang and put every single case back in the crawlspace and had all but teleported into the living room, smiling and nodding as Blake mentioned that the group was going to go discuss something-something-faunus-something-something-SDC-something-something-if-you’d-make-us-some-dinner-that-would-be-lovely-thank-you-love-you-bye.

Kali’s breathing had returned to normal even if her heart still pounded and she’d pulled Amongst Sheep from behind her back and stared at the lonely MILF, stunned at her daughter’s kinkiness. There’d been exactly 41 films in the crawlspace and aside from the muscular bloodhound faunus who’d apparently fucked her way through at least 11 different teenage boys to claim some sort of victory, each and every cover seemed to depict faunus getting dicked down by human males. Or the occasional female, sometimes simply female and other times with a dick dangling between their thighs. The faunus in question seemed to love it and almost seemed subservient to the ones doing the fucking.

While Kali was amused at her daughters apparent kink especially in light of her place as a faunus rights spokeswoman of great fame, there was a much larger problem. Staring at them all had made her unquestionably horny to the point of wetness. But Blake, her girlfriend and her friends were home. Ghira was in the kitchen just two rooms away, making a large meal for their guests happily after she asked him to do so. There were workers in the back of the house, rebuilding their back wall after Ghira had hip tossed an assassin of the rapidly dwindling White Fang remnants through it last week.

A reasonable, sane woman would have hid it and enjoyed it in the privacy of her own room later that night. Maybe give Ghira a ride while she watched it after convincing him she rented it over the scrollnet for added fun. But the idea of watching it in her living room, a living room that was open to all of the house with no doors, her husband far enough away to know she was watching something but not what and her daughter, her friends only a single floor up? With her room right above the living room?

The disc was in, Kali’s legs were spread after removing her hakama and her modest breasts were exposed to the warm air, her fingers immediately tracing her slick folds.

The plot had gone from 0 to 60 in what seemed like record time (but was probably only 20 minutes or so), the mother surrounded by horny human men while her fellow faunus were in various poses of submission. The mother partaking in the orgy and rapidly spiraling from a stereotypically sweet woman with the kind of body only art could give, to a sex crazed lunatic thanking her “master” for fucking her mouth even as her makeup ran, her dump truck of a rear was being molested by a faceless human behind her and her gargantuan tits bounced from the force of the careless facefucking all while she squealed, even as the humans made crude and rather disparaging remarks about faunus women.

Ghira: [From the kitchen] Enjoying yourself, dear?

Kali’s breath hitched as her fingers pushed in deep and she grinned, curling them as a jolt ran up her spine as the wolf faunus - Lupa, she remembered - squealed once more, her cheeks puffing out like a chipmunks at the deluge of jizz firing impossibly from the human.

Kali: Oh of course, darling! There’s a program about human-faunus interactions that’s just fascinating!

She heard no response but could practically hear her husbands indulgent chuckle. As Lupa now hoarsely begged for the man who’d been fucking her mouth to “shut his stupid dog right back up!” the floor creaked and someone moved around a bit. Kali bit her lip, eyes catching the closed window and the worker carrying tools by. Her left hand had since been massaging her right tit for some time now and she tweaked the brownish nipple on her olive skinned titty, moaning harshly as Lupa suddenly screeched! The man who’d been squeezing her cheeks had pushed her face down into a puddle of spit and spunk and forced himself in an ass that not even she could compete with! She watched as the warbling moans of the anime MILF grew in intensity.

Kali: [Sputtering] And now we’re even getting to see a faunus tribe and how they survived in the Grimmlands!

Ghira: [From the kitchen] That’s nice dear.

Kali: So nice! Really Ghira, you would not believe some of their customs!

Or her own, at this point throwing any concern of being caught out of her mind. The floor had creaked as if someone had tossed themselves on Blake’s bed, likely Blake herself after hashing out a particularly tough point. The thought of Ghira finding her was exciting, of her husband’s disbelief that she’d be so bold. One of the workers? Well, Ghira would likely punish her for giving them such a show but the idea of teasing them so cruelly, knowing that they would remember this for quite some time but never be able to do more than furiously jack their cocks off to the memory of it and just how hard Ghira would give it to her, pushing her face in a pillow as he flattened her exceptional cheeks with his angry downstrokes. Blake and her friends? As a third finger entered her lightly squelching pussy - as Lupa followed an order and lapped up at the puddle as her nearly yoga ball sized cheeks rippled in constant motion - and her palm started slapping against her clit, she squealed at the sudden increase in pleasure.

Blake would be beyond humiliated. At her shameless mother, at her own filthy little secret being discovered by anyone other than perhaps Yang. Not to mention that both Oscar and Jaune would commit this site to their memory banks, perhaps even as their flush faced friends lambasted them for their obvious erections!

The floor creaked more, as if they were moving and Kali twisted her nipple, watching as the MILF on screen started wailing from the anal assault, the man having both hands in her grey hair and pulling her head back. As the animation gave way to the light grey eyes rolling towards her nose as her tongue flopped out, Lupa’s face got steadily redder. In return Kali gasped at the mixture of pleasure and pain coming from her right tit, using her left hand to awkwardly do the same to her left and moaning as a shadow passed the window behind their television.

Ghira: [From the kitchen] Dear? Is something wrong?

Kali couldn’t help it. The thought of being caught was too good, the knowledge that this was what her daughter liked - something so disrespectful, base and diametrically opposed to her own beliefs - and the way she was handling her own body made her let out a louder groan.

Lupa: [Television] “...myself that day, lost the woman who put her children first... to big. Fat. Yummy. Human. COCK!!!! AIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!”

Kali: Oh no, Ghira! Just a quote from another bigot!

Kali’s fingers were now a blur, an eye on the window where no worker stood and an ear on her husbands response, the sound of a load of cum being pumped into an animated faunus whose face showed no signs of intellgence as a faceless human filled her anus with his release, squeezing each asscheek so aggressively he was clearly holding booty fat between his hands.

Ghira: [From the kitchen] You know how it is, freedom of speech. Is it at least handled...

She knew what he meant. Is the documentary at least attacking the negative opinion, showing how wrong it is?

Lupa: [Television] “--aaauuuuuwwwwsho good~” [giggling drunkenly]

She was close. Her heels clunked lightly against the table in front of her couch as she adjusted her legs, opening them wider as she now alternated between full thrusts and thumbing the clit, beneath her thick patch of black pubic hair. The scene changed several times, to Lupa’s ankles and wrists bound as a man pumped her full of cum. Another where a group of university aged humans were busily raining down an amount of cum only possible in hentai as Lupa serviced two cocks, one with her mouth and the other with her hand. A married couple sandwiching Lupa between them with Lupa’s cheeks being squished by the human taking her in doggy, excess ass fat bunching up as Lupa screamed into the man’s wife, her hairy human cunt. Another where Lupa sat on the counter of a sandwhich shop as an older, balding man stood between her legs as her eyes fluttered and the slick sound of her sex, of unexpected squirting. One final scene showing Lupa lying upon her shoulders, legs spread in a perfect split as a muscled man fucked down into her as she screamed “Master!” over and over.

To a final scene where a school bus pulled away and Lupa, in a white turtleneck and nothing more, leaned around a corner and had a warm, motherly smile on her face.

Kali: [Strained] Absolutely, Ghira!

Her palm made heavy clopping noises as she fingerblasted herself to that warm motherly smile staying in place...but only because it had frozen there, drool leaking from the corners of Lupa’s mouth as her eyes were all but rolled back in her skull as a random human steadily slammed into her from behind, the only sounds being the wolf’s cheeks clapping and the wet plap! of semen pouring from her currently-being-fucked pussy.

Human: [Television] Take it all, Ms. Lupa!

And then the abnornal sound of jizz being pumped into the drooling faunus and her dripping pussy, Lupa’s eyes gone pure white as they rolled back into her skull and an overlay of the action inside her happening; a sea of thick white swirling inside her and then a flash of light from an egg indicating pregnancy.

Between the two workers clearly arguing over tools outside their window but clearly not seeing her, being in conversation with Ghira and the threat of being found out, Kali felt it build.

Several things happened at once. Lupa showed up on the screen staring down at a human baby with brown hair and her eyes, before turning away smiling softly. She entered a room where an unfamiliar human sat on her bed, a member that nearly reached his own chest pointing towards the ceiling. Lupa dropped to all fours and fastened a chain to a black leather collar she was wearing, muttering “master” over and over again as she crawled forth.

Kali scraped three fingers against her g-spot and ground her palm against her clit and exploded in release.

Kali: No doubt, it’s marvelously done!

Her pitch considerably higher as she lost her fingers to the repeatedly clenching hole, knees shaking as her orgasm crashed through her like waves upon the beach.

Blake: [Shocked] Mo-ther! [Strangled] No Yang, don’t look!

Ruby: [Stammering] Y-y-y-you either, O-oscar!

Ilia: Why must the world be so cruel!?

Jaune: Mad that another hot cat faunus is taken?

Blake: [Squeals] Jaune!

Ilia: Yes!

Blake: [Squeaks] Ilia!

Yang: I mean, can you blame ‘em? I can see where you got it from, babe.

Blake: [Squeaks, chokes, growls] Stopitstopitstopit!

Jaune: [To Ilia] Same.

Blake: Butwhatno--NO! You have Weiss!

Jaune: Appreciating the view is not cheating.

Ruby: Yes it is!

Jaune: I am happy in my relationship with my fiancée. I will never cheat on my fiancée but I have no control over Blake’s mom fingerbanging herself to...whoa.

Yang: [To Blake] Heh, told you it was a bad idea to keep those here! Ooh, is that Amongst Sheep!? [Respectfully] She’s got good taste.

Oscar: Blake watches hentai?

Ruby: A-ack! Y-y-you saw!? Dammit Oscar!

Ilia: [Fumbling]

Blake: Wha-no-it’snot--

Kali breathed heavily, removing her digits from her pussy and feeling much better and with a glance at her sticky fingers, cleaned them with a quick schlup! of a noise.

Blake: AAAHH! Mother, no!

Kali: [Exhausted] Sorry sweetheart. But that collection of yours, oh my.

Jaune: [To Ruby] Okay, now I’m feeling a little guilty.

Ruby: You should!

Ilia: [Stops fumbling] Collection? She has more?

Blake: Moth--

Kali: Over forty.

Ilia: And they’re all... [gestures]

Kali: Except for one with a female dog faunus.

Yang: That’s mine. [Blake screeches in horror] Blake wanted me to ‘expand my horizons’ or something. I think Blakey just wanted me to be a perv too.

Oscar: Wait. Dog faunus? Watashi no kōkō no tōnamentoāku with Tawni Bumpus as Rei-chan’s seiyuu?

Yang: Heh. Yeah, you’ve seen it?

Ruby: Wha--

Oscar: Have you seen Tawni Bumpus?

Jaune: And now I’m uncomfortable.

Yang: Chow-Chow faunus, right?

Oscar: Yup. She’s -- a-ah... [trails off in embarassment and fear for his life at Ruby’s glare]

Yang: [Snorts] Has an ass that makes the Bellabooty look like Weiss in comparison?

Jaune: [Eyes narrow] I’m letting her know you said that, top heavy.

Yang: [Flinches, irritated] I’m sending you a picture of her. She’s got cake for days, Arc.

Oscar: Well, a-ah, the point is Tawni is very p-pretty [panics] b-b-but not as pretty as Ruby and she really does have a captivating voice.

Jaune: [Staring squintily at Yang, speaks at Oscar] Riii~iight.

Blake: Alright, stop! No more talking about my porn!

Ruby: Ah, so the degenerate admits it!

Ilia: Huh. I mean I can see Yang, maybe. But Blake?

Yang: One, rude. Two, it’s a power dynamic thing. She doesn’t really want to be treated like an animal and collared by humans all the time, but sometimes she’s in the mood and I’ll put on the strap and the things that’llmmmphh!!!

Blake: [Hands on Yang’s mouth, panting, red faced] No. More.

Kali: [Covering her chest back up, crosses legs] Dear, it’s perfectly understandable. You’re a powerful young woman with not just skill unmatched in the sword but your Shadow Clones were key in your final battle with Salem! It’s perfectly understandable wanting to surrender yourself to a strong girl like Yang! You trust her and really, Lupa’s descent into a plaything was as masterfully done as it was--

Blake then ran away screaming, hands over her face and seconds later a door slammed. Yang winces.

Kali: Perhaps that was a bit too much for her.

Ruby: [Eyes narrowed] She just discovered her mom’s a superfreak.

Kali opened her mouth, saw that despite the time passed that both Oscar and Jaune were not looking directly at her and were both at full mast. Ilia was quietly cursing at her scroll phone, which the chameleon had been aiming in her direction prior to making herself decent. Clearly cursing her poor reaction time and missing a photo op.

Kali: Hmm. I suppose that might be a fair assessment.

Ruby: [Angles her body to hide Oscar’s boner] You got problems, lady.

Kali gave a nonchalant shrug, still feeling too good to give 100% to caring.

Jaune: [Claps hands] Well, not that this hasn’t been just a blast, but I think I should go tell Weiss exactly what happened here before somebody [glares at Ruby who glares back] texts her.

Yang: [Scratching her head, staring at the stairs] Heh, you just want Weiss to “punish” you. Never met a guy so ready for a girl standing five foot nothing to take him to poundtown in the Amazon position.

Jaune: [Reddens] Then clearly you have no idea how hot Weiss is when she’s mad.

Yang: [Blinks] Huh. All that time spent around Nora and me’s doing you good, Jaune.

Jaune said nothing and turned away. Oscar was trying to engage a depressed Ilia in conversation while avoiding Ruby’s death glare, the reaper herself irritated at her “not-a-boyfriend” being a pervert. Yang stood contemplating how to handle Blake and Kali just sighed, uncrossing her legs and wincing at the stickiness and the slight sound of it as she stood. As she clapped her hands lightly, intending to try and make this better, it happened. A platter of spaghetti and meatballs hit the floor.

Ghira: What in the garlic-oregano-noodley fuck is going on here!?

The room froze. Kali gave her husband a sheepish little smile, standing with her kimono top done up poorly and missing her hakama pants, shapely legs on display. Ilia had reaimed her phone at Kali’s legs even as Oscar had a hand up to block the view, his other over his stiffy. Yang’s mouth hung open in shock and Jaune had frozen, his own hands dropping to hide evidence of his own hard on. His daughter was conspicuously absent.

The most damning thing was the menu screen on the teleivsion, showing clips of Mistralian hentai that wasn’t exactly kind to faunus. Jaune spoke first.

Jaune: [Urgently] Yeet me out the house Xiao Long and I won’t tell Weiss about the crack you made on her ass!

A flash of white aura protecting the Arc occurred and Yang grabbed him by the arm and threw him through the wall. Ruby grabbed Oscar’s hand at the same time and the two disappeared into a swirl of roses out the same hole, a distant “ouch” being heard as they likely collided with Jaune. Yang was halfway up the stairs and Ilia stood frozen, scroll aimed at Kali’s legs. Ghira glared and Ilia eeped. She glanced at Kali who gave a smirk that was unapologetic and much to Ilia’s dismay, sexy.

Kali: It’s exactly what it looks like, darling. [Purrs] Is my big strong husband going to spank his naughty wife?

Ilia’s scream of terror was muffled as Ghira’s hand clasped around her face and then faded into the distance as she was chucked from the Belladonna household.

Jaune: [Barely audible] Dammit, stop running into me! Respect the healer!

Ilia: [Barely audible groaning]

Ghira: You will explain yourself, wife.

Kali: [Flutters eyelashes, purposely ignores him] Will you promise to spank me if I don’t?

Ghira growled, angry at the situation but knowing he’d get nothing out of her now and with a grunt, threw his laughing wife over his shoulder and stomped grumpily to his room. Really, he loved this woman to pieces but why did she find it so enjoyable to test his every last nerve!? He ignored the frantic sound of what sounded like his daughter opening her secound floor window and muttering something about “not again” and threw his smirking wife on the bed, growling as he ripped his armor, his clothing off.

On the ground floor, a rhino faunus and his crocodile faunus friend gaped at the hole in the front of the house.

Rhino Faunus: Oh, what in the actual shit is this!?

Crocodile Faunus: Rich people, man. Rich people.

[drakenology]

their s/o has kinky curly hair with Bakugo, Denki, Midoriya and Todoroki

author’s note: hey so i smoked a lot of weed and tried to do my hair afterwards and I quit so now I’m writing about kinky hair because I have a mixture of 3c and 4c hair and detangling is not poggers. Like it takes an hour to detangle my hair... I don’t have the energy for this rn. But even though it’s a fuck ton of work to take care of natural hair it’s still gorgeous and beautiful and strong and all of the fucking above. Shout out to all my kinky haired girlies. And of course shout out to my beautiful black queens. I see you boo! <3

warnings?: fluff, swearing and mentions of sexual activity (yeah, this one aint nasty... that’s the next post. shhh!) ALL CHARACTERS AGED UP 18+

Bakugo

not gonna lie this mf ignorant as fuck 

hates that you take so long to do your hair

but loves watching the process?

“What’s that stuff?” “What does it do?” 

educates himself for your future babies

he likes a challenge so why wouldn’t he figure out how to properly take care of curly hair? 

offers to do your hair sometimes 

sometimes does it better than you do?

thinks you’re a fucking goddess.

i am a firm believer that bakugo LOVES sistas ok??

This morning is particularly stressful. You had already broken a comb or two trying to do your hair last night. So when you went to bed thinking that your hair was gonna turn out amazing you can imagine your shock when it didn’t turn out right. Well, as your taking down your twists, you see that your hair didn’t dry all the way. You try everything you can to salvage your style; you pick it, try and diffuse it but you’re still unsatisfied with the look. You sigh and just tie it up in two afro puffs. You lay your edges carefully and do some light makeup. Suddenly, you hear the bathroom door fly open to reveal your boyfriend Bakugo staring at you. 

“So that’s what’s taking you so damn long.” Katsuki says leaning against the door frame. He was going to come in and yell at you to hurry up but with the way you looked all dressed up he was completely thrown off and blown away. You were wearing a bright yellow sundress that trailed down to your ankles. It hugged your body and flowed out towards the bottom of the dress. The bathroom smelled like your hair products; tropical and fruity smells smothering his nostrils. You were like a goddess standing before him. And he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. 

“Dammit, Katsuki wait a damn minute. I’ll be out in a second.” You said, adding the finishing touches to your face. Katsuki walks over to you and leans up against the kitchen counter to watch you finish your makeup.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” he said as he stared at your glistening mahogany skin.  You tried your best not to giggle at his stares as you turn to look at him. 

“You ready to go?” You ask, feeling a little flustered as he ran his hands up and down your hips, stopping at your ass as he cupped it with both hands. Katsuki plants a kiss on your soft, plush lips and shook his head. 

“I’d hate to waste that outfit.. but now I don’t wanna even go out. I wanna fuck you instead.” He says as he kisses your neck. OOOOWEEE

Denki 

my cute little idiot...

you had to remind him a lot to not touch your hair (it fucks up your style!)

had to explain what “shrinkage” was

asked once “WOAH IS THAT ALL YOUR HAIR???” making you get to cussin’

very infatuated with everything about your hair though. poor thing didn’t know no better until now

plays in your hair anyway when you’re cuddling

wants to do your hair for you but every time you let him it turns out a mess. 

loves the way your hair smells when you put your products in it

lowkey wishes he had curly hair too

obsessed with you..

“‘Nari? How do I look?” You ask as you turn away from you vanity to look at your goofy boyfriend who’s playing video games and sitting on the bed in front of you. He paused his game to look at you and immediately turned bright red. 

“Wow..” He said, completely amazed. You had your hair in flexi-rods; after you took them down your natural hair cascaded down to your shoulders in heaps and mounds of thick luxuriousness. He loved that your hair framed your face so well and the lovely smell coming from you intoxicated him. 

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.” Denki smiles.

You giggle and shake your hair in the mirror, loving how your hair turned out. You put on some lip gloss and stood up to walk over to your full body mirror to pose in front of it. Damn, you looked good! You were feeling yourself for sure and Denki just couldn’t help but stare. He watched you pose in the mirror, playfully wiggling your ass and flipping your hair around.  His eyes met your curvaceous body; the jeans you wore hugging your form graciously. The top you wore accentuated your cocoa skin so damn good that it appeared to Denki that you were glowing from within. What a beautiful fucking woman.

He stands up and walks behind you, wrapping his arms around you as he stared at your gorgeous visage in the mirror. 

“How’d I get so lucky?” He asked, enamored by your beauty. He plants a kiss on your shoulder as you giggle and embrace him. 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Todoroki

was kinda ignorant to black culture and hair styles but after your careful explaination he’s fully informed and loves every bit of you

buys you all them expensive natural hair products (trust me.. they aint cheap)

Watches you do your hair

loves when you wear box braids, pulls on them during sex sometimes if you’re too fucked out to care (oop)

smells your hair when you’re sleeping (not in a creepy way I promise)

Doesn’t tolerate racism and will beat the shit out of anyone who tried it with you. Period.

loves your complexion, thinks you look scrumptious in yellow (yellow looks GREAT on black people ok???)

Todoroki’s favorite time of year was the winter. He loved the sweaters, the hot chocolate and more importantly you can finally wear your natural hair out. Since hotter months make your hair sweat out when you straighten it, you usually keep it in braids or locs. But come winter time, you try and wear your natural hair when you can since winter months can be drying to your curls sometimes. You had spend the day (yes it’s a fucking day long process.. for me anyway) taking down your braids while sitting on the couch watching daytime T.V while Shoto was out working. After everything was out, you showered and washed your hair, sighing as the warm water and shampoo soothed and cleansed your scalp carefully. You step out of the shower and comb out your hair while it’s still wet. You do your normal routine and fluff out your curls with an afro pick and smile at your new growth. Unbeknownst to you, Todoroki had been watching the process from start to finish as he was sitting on the bed next to your vanity. You thought he was asleep since he liked sleeping in on Sundays so you were surprised when he got up and kissed you on the cheek, admiring your natural beauty.

“You truly are the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen, Y/N. I’m so lucky.” He gushed. You giggled and kissed him on his lips, thanking him for the compliment.

“So, what you do want to do today, beautiful?”

Deku

When he met you he wanted to know everything about you

Secretly took notes 👀 has a notebook with your name on it with everything that has to do with you including your hair

Studies you and does your hair exactly like how you do it

Tries to impress you by coming up with new styles to try even though some of them are a bit crazy lookin

Loves you till the death of him

Very very sweet about helping you with your hair when you’re too tired to take care of it sometimes 🥺

You had a long, stressful and exhausting day. You spent all day at the hospital taking care of patien after patient nonstop with damn near no breaks in between. You had resorted to pulling your beautiful curls back and away from your face from all the sweating and running around the hospital, leaving stray curls hanging out. You were always a prim and proper girl almost never seen with your hair unkempt so when you returned home with your hair in a messy low bun, Midoriya knew what was up. He watched as you greeted him weakly and plopped on the couch next to him, laying on his lap and almost falling asleep.

“Rough day?” He ask. You almost burst into tears when you hear your boyfriend ask you about your day. It was rough and frustrating. You were just glad you were finally home so you can relax and try and forget about the taxing day. You sigh as Midoriya rubbed small circles into you back and undid the messy bun you had lazily tied hours before returning home.

“You just relax, princess. I’ll take care of you, ok?” He says lifting you up from his lap and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you on the sink and put your hair in two braids for you so you could take a shower. He kissed your forehead and hummed sweet I love yous into your ear as you smile and kiss his nose. You loved that he was always so gentle with you, never hesitating to help you when you need it.

“I’ll make us something to eat. Pick out a movie for us to watch, okay? I don’t care if it’s something we’ve seen 100 times. Tonight is all about you.”

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[rodeoxqueen]

DEVIL MAY GRIND

(I)- Can You Touch This? 

Dante/ AMAB! Reader

Series Summary:  From a surprise rendezvous to a male strip club on your birthday to a private dance, you end up seeing eye-to-eye rather than eye-to-groin with a cowboy stripper named Dante Sparda.

Work Summary: A shy and short homebody celebrating your birthday with friends, you end up somewhere you’d never expect: a male strip club. And what you’d also never expect is a certain red-devil/cowboy stripper to lay his special treatment on you.

Tags/Warnings:18+, AMAB! Reader, Stripper!AU, Minors Do Not Try It, Wholesome Filth

Rodeo’s Two-Pieces: And after months, Rodeo presents the male version of this soon-to-be filth. *tilts cowboy hat over eyes and leans in seat*

You were never one for large crowds, alcohol, loud music, and nudity. So what a mess you were in, your friends dragging you into a strip club.

It wasn’t your fault, they promised you were all going for a quiet dinner at your favorite restaurant. No loud noises, no crowds, and especially, you didn’t even know why you had to specify, no naked guys! That’s what happened at first. You went and blew out your candles on your cake at a nice place, but then things got weird. Your friends had got you thoughtful gifts, except one of them who promised to give it to you after another “surprise.”

They practically herded you to their car, blindfolding and ear-muffing you while giggling. After driving in some unfamiliar directions, you were pulled into a strange building.

So when you couldn’t hear your thoughts due to the overbearing bass in the room you were in, you realized you should’ve known better. The blindfold and earmuffs were taken off and you opened your eyes to a neon-lit room with the most hard-cut abs right in your face.

“A strip club?! W-why would you think I’d want to go to a strip club?”

“Okay, first of all (Y/N). It’s a male strip club. Second, come on! I know you want to touch some diamond abs!” One of your friends exclaimed as they threw bills at one very tan and very oiled-up man named Diego. The box from before landed on your lap, and you unwrapped it to find a giant stack of dollar bills.

“Now stuff them bills down some hottie’s pants!”

The orange thong-wearing male with the most defined quads you had ever glanced at winked at your friend and opted to dance on someone else. Clutching your drink, you swallowed thickly as other males who went to the gym every other hour thrust their hips proactively at you.

Your friends had called ahead and bought the lot of you a table to the stage, much to your chagrin.

Luckily, your ability to disappear in a room, with your meek personality and small stature, came in handy in these situations. The tall and buff guys your friends screamed over seemed to prefer the company of the more extroverted and thirsty. While other tables farther from the stage had easy contact with the not-themed strippers, you were all confronted with the stage floor dancers.

“My god, how many themes do these guys dress in?” You squeaked as an entertainer dressed like James Bond (minus the clothes except for the bowtie and gun holster) ground on the stage floor.

“Not enough! Now make it rain, (Y/N).” Another friend demanded as she took another shot.

You made a noise as your hand was forcibly placed onto an eight-pack. You quickly threw a wad of bills at the man and ran off to the bar.

“I gotta go!” You panicked, speed-walking to the bar in your favorite pair of dressy sneakers. Stomach quivering, you put a few bills down and asked for a stronger drink. Maybe you could pass out on the table and your friends would feel bad and take you home.

You sighed as you watched your friends have the time of their lives, although they noted your absence.

“First time?” The bartender asked, sliding your fruity drink to you. You fiddled with the napkin. A woman posed in the corner with the logo “Devil May Cry” to the side of her, all lined in neon pink.

“Oh!... Yeah, it is.” You mumbled shyly. You blushed at his blue-eyed stare. Luckily, he wore a collared white shirt so you could look at him without bleeding out of your nose. He was very handsome, with rugged features and slight facial hair. His stark white hair shined even in the dim lighting.

“Ah, could tell. Watched you get dragged in here.” He chuckled.

“I-I was tricked, first of all!” You exclaimed, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“It’s alright. Your next rounds on me if you stay a lil longer.” He winked, wiping a glass. A few other people came and went, requesting all sorts of raunchy-titled drinks. Despite that, he leaned on the table where you sat, making idle conversation.

“I’m Dante.”

“Nice to meet you, Dante. I’m (Y/N).” You impulsively stuck your hand out to shake and stilled at his strong and warm grip.

He whistled.

“Nice name for a nice man. It’s your birthday right?” You nodded.

“What did you wish for?”

“Peace and quiet.” He laughed at that, gesturing to your friends who screamed and clapped at a dark-skinned stripper who ripped off his pants.

“With those friends?” He chuckled.

“They’re a lot more restrained. This is an exception.” You whined.

The conversation grew longer. You learned that Dante worked here with his twin brother Vergil. He loved pizza and strawberry ice cream, along with nice motorcycles. A total manly man, if you asked yourself.

You found a safe space talking to him since you didn’t have to look at nude guys with your back turned.

You were hoping to talk the night away until a similarly white-haired male with a serious glare rounded the corner.

Swiping back a few stray hairs, the esteemed brother Vergil knocked the smile off his twin’s face.

“You fool! Your shift has been over for some time now.” He snapped. Dante rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, this is old douchebag.” You giggled at his comment, quickly stopping when meeting eyes with the frigid twin.

“Have you been speaking ill of me? I will-” Dante threw a towel at his brother’s face before leaving the bartending station. By leaving, he jumped over the counter.

“Hey, (Y/N), nice talking to you. I’ll see you later.” The white-haired man left to the employee’s room.

“Alright-” You muttered. You’d sit, but Vergil’s cold glare prompted you to leave and rejoin your friends.

“Where were you? Chatting up the bartender?”

“Look at you. Being social in a strip club.” They teased.

After a few more dancers, you couldn’t help but miss the blue-eyed bartender with his quips and casual flirtiness.

Suddenly, the music and lights went off. The crowd stirred. Your friend grabbed your arm.

“Oh boy, they’re gonna need a mop after this.”

“Ew!” You cried out. Your friends sang that one horribly sexual song from the radio. Something about parking a truck in a garage and about wet-

A shirtless DJ grabbed the mic.

“And now, for our next entertainer, we have the Legendary Lady Killer. Hold onto your panties and your wedding rings, you’re all in for the ride of your life.”

The lights were turned back on from back to front. On stage, stood a muscular man with a cowboy hat and shawl. His legs were perfectly framed by black leather chaps and boots. You turned as red as his shawl as you could see his formidable bulge from yards across.

His spurs clinked on the floor as people began to cheer at his physique. Your jaw dropped in shock.

White hair.

“Ladies and gents, I got some questions for y’all.” He drawled, lowering his hat.

“Yes! I’m single!” Someone yelled from the back. He chuckled as others screamed with agreement.

“That’s nice ma’am. But really, I got three questions.” He made his way down the stage, his shadow covering your table.

He palmed his chest and abs, showing white chest hairs and slicked-down muscles.

“Can you touch this?” Everyone screamed for yes. He tutted.

“No, no, no.” He waggled his finger. He spun and exposed his lush tush. He was packing it front and back and you blushed while putting your face in your hands.

His hands groped his butt. Even with his giant hands, he still had more ass to spare.

“Can you touch this?” The screams grew louder. He waggled his finger again, wiggling his butt.

“No, no, no.” The crowd awed. He turned back around, a cocky grin on his face.

“Now,” He pointed to the crowd.

His palms groped the leather that concealed his huge package.

“Can you touch this?” Your friend threw a wad of cash at him, hitting him in the nipple. He stood unflinching.

“No, no, no.” He drew out each word.

“These are my laws.” Putting his hands on his hips, he rocked left to right, clicking his spurs.

“But I see a hell of a lot of lawbreakers here tonight.”

He shifted to walk around the chair placed behind him. He sat on it backward, legs spread to place his groin in the spotlight.

“And I don’t see a cop in sight.” He pointed at the DJ.

“Hit it!” Music blaring, he did his number. And boy, was the DJ right to warn you. Dante practically made sweet love to the chair, flipping his head back.

Hips circling and then pistoning the air, sweat trailed down his pecs.

You ended up throwing a few bills, hoping to avoid eye contact. It failed as he slid to his knees to the edge of the stage and crawled off the ledge onto your table. Like a preying tiger, he made his way over to you.

Thank god you had health insurance, your blood pressure was going off the charts.

Your friends lost their heads, throwing bills and screaming like banshees. But he wasn’t interested in them. His eyes preyed after your own, baby blues on an absolute beast.

“Wanna save a horse and ride a cowboy, handsome?” He purred as he traced your jaw. Your skin jumped as you internally imploded. This was was too sensual and people were watching, for goodness sake!

“(Y/N), if you don’t agree I will cancel your Barnes and Noble membership.” Your friend threatened.

“Come on, spare this outlaw some sugar?” You didn’t have a moment to think. Dante threw his hat on your head and carried you onto the table and to the stage.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” You shrieked.

He ran hot. So hot. Your skin burned at contact with him, pressed up against his chest as he stood you in front of the chair he practically humped.

“Take a seat, sir.” You blushed at his sensual persona, not sure where the kind bartender and the suave cowboy started and ended.

Obediently, you turned the chair around and sat with your ankles crossed. Dante tutted in disapproval.

His hands lingered by your legs.

“May I?” He asked. You shook your head slowly, feeling his callused hands on your thighs. He firmly spread your legs and stood over you on the chair.

As if that wasn’t enough, his arm muscles bulged and twitched as he ripped off his leather chaps. He ripped the chaps. There were no zippers or velcro straps. That was all him!

Your face a hair’s width from his abs, he gently took your hands and traced his pecs with them. He growled and winked at you.

Despite the one-in-a-million situation you were in, you shrank at the many peering eyes of the other women and bar patrons. Your anxiety was seen by Dante, who tilted your head up.

“Hey, it’s alright. Just focus on me. If you’re nervous, just give me a purple nurple or something, alright?” You laughed at his idea of a safe word and nodded.

“Okay, Dante.”

And like that, it was like you pulled a trigger. Dante grinded on your form and explored his peak-conditioned skin with your own hands.

You gasped as he led your hands down his front to his leather shorts. You couldn’t stop looking with widened eyes at his crotch. You had read erotica before, describing the male member in the throes of passion, yet this was the first time you had been this close to anything like those erotic novels.

It was obscene! Why did it seem to get larger? How was he allowed to carry that thing around without a license?!

“Hey, eyes up here.” He teased as you snapped your head up.

“O-oh! Sorry.” You whispered. Your blood had rushed to your head and you had grown deaf to your friends’ yells of validation.

“Grab him by the buns!” One of your friends yelled. Dante turned around to make eye contact with her.

With a grin, he slid your hands to the back. What he didn’t expect was you to squeeze.

“Whoa now, kitty.” He purred. You gave a watery smile.

Suddenly, a water bottle was thrown at his head. With lightning reflexes, he caught it after it bounced off of him.

“Hey! Stage times’ over, you fucking show pony.” A short-haired woman with mismatching eyes called out. Dante scoffed.

“Just givin’ a nice gentleman some lovin’.” He argued.

“No, get off the stage, Dante.”

“Five more minutes?”

“NOW.” He sighed. Getting off of your lap, he kissed your hand that was resting on his thigh. Lord, if you died right now, that’d be fine.

“Glad to have this dance.” He flirted.

“Y-you too.” Taking your hand, he took you for another surprise and swept you off your feet. You squeaked as he handed you to another dancer on the ground. The club-goers cheered as dancers arrived, dressed like businessmen with briefcases.

You were promptly seated, head dizzy from everything that just happened. You watched as he took his leave as if he didn’t just cause you to get feverish from how hot he was. Your friend hugged you.

“Nice work! You were so lucky!” Another friend plucked the hat off your head.

“Ah! He left his hat!” You exclaimed as you took it from her hands.

“A souvenir.”

For the rest of the night, you held onto the hat and traced the red stitching. You never saw Dante for the rest of the night, his brother in charge of the bar service.

Finally, before the last round of dancers, you were tapped on the shoulder. You found yourself staring into much harsher blue eyes.

One of your friends threw money at him, which he growled at.

“I am not an entertainer. Well, not right now.” He explained. He handed you a drink with a napkin on the bottom.

“My buffoon of a brother said to keep the hat. Although, I’m not sure why you would.”

“I-”

“The drink is on the house. Good evening with you all.”

He walked off, and you took your drink. You realized it was the same one you ordered when you got to the bar.

“Hey dude, take a look.” A well-manicured nail pointed to the napkin. You saw in red pen an arrow pointed to the folded corner.

You shakily opened it to reveal a series of numbers and words, along with a card that flitted onto the table.

Tonight was fun, wanna do it again? The card’s for a private dance, just call and ask for Dante Sparda. No crowds, only you and me. No Lady barking up my tree for appreciating beauty either - DS

A little heart with an arrow through its center was scrawled in a corner. You picked up the laminated card and saw it was for a free private dance. Your heart beat out of your chest.

Your friends laughed as you immediately stuck it in your pocket, along with the note. The club closed and you were all ushered out. The night was pitch black when you emerged from the debauchery that was the Devil May Cry strip club.

As your other wasted companions were stuffed into the car, you sat shotgun to the sober and designated driver.

You were silent the car ride home, laying your head against the window. You thought about that white-haired flirt’s remarks and how gentle he was to you.

Waving and embracing your wonderful friends, you left for your apartment with all your gifts. However, the little slips of paper in your pocket weighed the heaviest on your mind.

With your keys in your hand, you climbed up the stairs home.

After closing the door, you slid down the wall and let out a pleased sigh.

“Best birthday ever!” You said to no one in particular. 

[deathlikesdeep-dish]

“You’re Making Me Wet” (Zoro x Female Reader)

JUST UNDER THE WIRE BUT I FINISHED FOR BAE’S BIRTHDAY. It was not probably my best move to try and start and finish something in an evening, but here we are. A bit rushed, but I hope y’all enjoy this lil fic! I’ve been meaning to write this for a while, (specifically for the One Piece of Summer event) and haven’t gotten around to it. Inspired by the “We Can!” opening where the crew has a water gun fight, and sexy flirtation ensues. 

WARNINGS: cussing as usual, heavy suggestion but no smut! 

Zoro x Female Reader

Word Count: 1960

It was a particularly hot day aboard the Sunny, and the crew was beginning to get a little stir crazy. It would be days, according to Nami, before you all would arrive at the next island, and Luffy’s heavy, bored sigh every ten minutes after he’d ask how much longerrrr was beginning to wear on the entire crew. 

“Goddamn it, Luffy, if I hear you ask that question one more damn time, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind,” Zoro growls from his usual spot.

“Not like there’s much there to lose,” Sanji mumbles under his breath as he walks back to the kitchen, to the great amusement of both Chopper and Usopp, though their laughter is cut short by Zoro’s sharp gaze. 

“Shut up, cook,” Zoro ground out. 

You giggle quietly, but don’t say anything.

“Boys,” Nami rolls her eyes from next to you. You, Nami and Robin are all lounging in the shade on the deck. 

You look over at Zoro, who has uncharacteristically chosen to shed his usual gear in lieu of swim trunks and a simple white t-shirt. Though this is not out of place, as the entire crew had donned their swim gear after the third straight day of heat, it is still jarring to see the swordsman out of his normal attire. It left much less to the imagination, and made it difficult to concentrate. His brow is still furrowed in annoyance towards Sanji, his lips a thin, tight line. He doesn’t notice that you are staring, which you are grateful for. You are also grateful that both Robin and Nami seem content to occupy themselves with idle chatter. They have been giving you a hard time recently about your sometimes unabashed attraction to the greenette. 

You can see the slight sheen of sweat forming on Zoro’s tanned forearms and at the nape of his neck and as he tilts his head back, your gaze follows the sharp line of his jaw. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, clearly attempting to calm himself down and you can see his facial features beginning to relax. How is it fair for someone to be this attractive, you think bitterly. 

Abruptly, as if Zoro felt your gaze, his eyes open and the flash to yours. They are vigilant at first, cautious, but soften when he realizes that it is you, and not some enemy, that is looking at him. You realize, stupidly, that he has trained his Haki to notice any sort of energies directed towards him, and you could kick yourself for being so careless. 

He smirks a bit, but otherwise does nothing. You flush brightly and look away, turning to ask Nami a question but you find that she is no longer in her spot.

“Hey, where’d Nami go?” You ask Robin.

“I think she went to talk to Luffy about something,” Robin replies vaguely. 

“Oh,” You say, looking around. Luffy, too, has vanished from his normal spot atop the figurehead. 

“Come to think of it,” You say a little more loudly, attracting the attention of the other crew members nearby. “Isn’t a little too quiet?” 

“Huh, you’re right, y/n,” Chopper says. “It is really quiet...” 

Before you can utter another word, you hear the loud yell of your captain from the helm. “Gum-gum….WATER GUN FIGHT.” He leaps onto the deck with a cackle and begins rapidly firing a water gun at Usopp and Chopper.

“Hell yeah! Talk about a super soaker!” Frank yells out, his Franky water cannons emerging from his shoulder pauldrons, primed and ready to go. 

Nami yells out to you and Robin. “Robin, Y/n!” You both look up and see her toss a similar water weapon to each of you with a mischievous grin. You catch it with a loud laugh. 

“Oh, you idiots don’t even know what’s about to happen,” You say evilly, launching up from your chair. 

“Oh yeah?” Usopp challenges, and the battle ensues. Since you joined the Strawhats with Franky in Water 7, you have been through many battles with your nakama. And in some of these, you recall with unpleasantness, you weren’t sure if the crew was going to make it out all in one piece. So, it is with great pleasure that you engage in this battle, one where the only stakes of the loss are cleaning up Sanji’s dinner or helping Chopper get a mat out of his coat. You, along with Robin and Nami, are in immediate opposition to Franky, Chopper, and Usopp. Your captain is, of course, trying to take all of you on at once. 

Sanji is still in the kitchen, probably preparing some sort of fruity drink for the ladies, and Zoro is to the side, being an overall dolt and spoil-sport. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the side of the ship as he curls a dumbbell. 

“Nami, my sweet!” Sanji calls out, busting through the door with a tray of drinks, completely unaware of the chaos unfolding. 

“FRANKY SUPER CANNON,” Franky yells, firing a jet of water directly into Luffy. The blast is so powerful, that the Luffy is launched into Sanji, who is then launched into the marimo as he sits with his weights. The three of them are also immediately drenched with water from Franky’s cannon.

“Hey, what the hell!” Zoro barks out, standing up with a menacing glare.

“Stop getting in the way, moss-head! You knocked down my drinks for the lovely ladies!” Sanji replies with equal rage. 

“Why you….” Zoro replies. “Give me a fucking water gun. I’m gonna kick this cook’s ass.” 

“Ha! Not a chance, you couldn’t even touch me, cretin,” Sanji says. 

Luffy is cackling as Franky tosses two more water guns to Zoro and Sanji respectively. 

“Don’t wreck my ship!” Frank yells out with a laugh, as Zoro and Sanji are brought into the fight. The battle continues for a while longer, Zoro wanting desperately to use his swords (aiming a gun was not exactly his strong suit) and Sanji not wanting to use his delicate chef hands too vigorously (my hands are only for cooking and women, he’d say). Zoro, turning his attention away from Sanji, who is being attacked by Luffy and Robin, looks around to find you. You’ve been hiding from him intentionally, knowing that he would show you no mercy. 

“Oh, y/n…” Zoro calls. “Where have you been hiding? Don’t think I’ll let you get away scot-free.” 

Hearing his voice, low and taunting, throws an unexpected pang of desire down your spine. You bite your lip in an effort to remain silent. You know that you hiding is pointless. He could find you in a second with his Haki. He’s teasing you intentionally. Does he know how desperately aroused that this is making you? 

“Got ya,” You hear in your ear from behind you. You jump at the sudden closeness of his voice and yelp a bit. 

“Ugh, Zoro,” You complain, hoping he doesn’t notice how breathless you are. “You’re such an ass,” You turn towards him and meet his gaze. He is much closer than you thought, so when you turn around and look up, your noses nearly touch. He makes no moves to back off, challenging you. You take a step backwards, cursing in your mind, and rip your gaze from his. This is a mistake. Your eyes settle on his torso. The white t-shirt he has been wearing is all but translucent now, soaked with water from the fight. The fabric clings to each line of his chest and abdomen, and even though you’ve seen him shirtless many times before this, there’s something particularly erotic about him being fully clothed and yet so exposed. 

Your lips are parted as you let out a shuddering breath. You take a step back, trying to regain composure, only to find your back against the side of the ship. He is very close. And you have nowhere to go. “Uh,” You stutter. You look up at his face again, which was yet another mistake. You are now close enough to trace the lines of his face with your eyes. You notice, for the first time, how ragged the scar over his left eye actually was. You feel a tinge of sadness, wondering for a long moment how it happened, and hating the thought of him suffering. 

That thought quickly leaves your mind, as he reaches to place a hand on either side of your head, leaning in. “What the problem, y/n?” He teases.

Since when has the socially awkward first mate become so incredibly seductive?! 

“Zoro,” You start, droplets of water from his hair and his arms dripping onto your skin. “You’re making me wet.” You finish without thinking. 

His grin widens and you don’t realize why until you remember the words that had just come out of your mouth. You flush bright red and you bury your hands in your face immediately. 

“Oh my God,” Your words are muffled by your hands. Oh my God, please just fucking kill me now.  

After a moment, you feel warm fingers wrap around your wrists, to pull your hands to the side. You try to ignore the tingling sensation emanating from his touch. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you wet,” He says slyly. “Let me fix that,” he finishes before stepping back to strip off his shirt. The two of you are far enough away from the rest of the crew to feel particularly vulnerable. Though you know, of course, that Zoro poses no threat to you, you are beginning to feel like your dignity may end up being threatened if you’re not able to get your shit together. 

“Zoro, what are you doing?” You ask in a near whisper.

“Y/n,” He breathes. “You must know that I can sense you.” He looks you directly in the eye, his dark gaze penetrating. “I know your energy. I know when you’re near.” 

You are disarmed, unable to look away. “I’ve trained myself to know. Because I need to know that you’re safe.” You are taken aback, not expecting to hear something so sentimental come out of the swordsman’s mouth. 

“I know when you’re looking at me. I know when you stare. I can sense your heart racing right now,” He continues, leaning in so that his lips barely brush yours. 

“I can sense that you want me in the same way that I want you,” He says finally. 

Wait, what? You think, your mind hazy. He had never once given you any indication that he felt this way. “What did you just say?” You ask.

“I said that I want you.” He replies simply. 

You don’t know what to say. You’d never even allowed yourself to consider the possibility that Zoro may feel something like this for you. 

“You don’t have to answer right now,” He reassures you. “And there’s no rush. I want you to feel comfortable, y/n.” 

Your heart is warmed by the gesture and you are grateful that you are going to be able to have some time to process this information. Nami and Robin are going to lose their shit, you think.

“But y/n,” Zoro says, the same sly tone back in his voice as leans down to your ear. “If I catch you staring at me while I’m shirtless again,” He gently tugs your earlobe between his teeth. You gasp, nearly collapsing. “I make no promises to go slow.” His lips trail to the hollow beneath your ear, and you brace your hands against the wall of the ship. 

“I may be honorable,” He whispers. “But I am a pirate.”

[moving-accounts-uwu]

Right Where You Were Meant To Be (Bucky x Plus-size!Reader)

Fandom: Marvel 

Characters: Bucky x Plus-size!reader

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, body-shaming

Story type: One-shot

Word count: 2.7k words 

Summary: Reader has a crush on Bucky the second she looked at him but she also has feelings of self-consciousness about her body and doubts she’d ever end up with Bucky or any guy like Bucky. That all changes one night at one of Tony’s parties.

(A/N: This is a cute little one-shot idea I had and just wanted to write out. I feel there aren’t many plus-size!reader stories so I wanted to make my own. I’m a chubby girl and felt like I needed some love, lmao. Any mistakes I take responsibility for, this story wasn’t beta read, so I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy nonetheless!!! Also, the gif isn’t mine, but he just looks so precious <3)

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It all started when you looked at him for the first time. He had just moved into the Tower, and you had just gotten the job as Tony's new assistant since Pepper had become CEO of Stark Industries. Because you worked in an environment with superheroes who were very fit and healthy, you had become self-conscious of yourself; whether it would be what you wore, the things you ate, or just how your body looked in general. 

Being a bigger girl, it often took a toll on your mental health when you would notice the glances, the whispering, the judgmental stares, and how shopping for clothes in your size was difficult, and it made you feel like you had to lose weight to fit in and belong. You felt alone and isolated. 

You didn't have any friends; you didn't even talk to many of your co-workers, and just kept to yourself a majority of the time. When Bucky moved in, you noticed he did the same. He didn't speak much to the rest of the team, he mostly stayed in his room, and only hung around Steve. Bucky was very fit, and his muscular body showed it whenever he wore tight-fitted clothing. You would never wear tight-fitted clothing for fear of having your plumpness accentuated.

After five months working for Tony and having a more friendly relationship with the rest of the team, you had built a few close bonds with some of the heroes. Wanda and Natasha were your closest girlfriends and would regularly have 'Lady's Nights' every Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Tony, Clint, Sam, and Steve were like your older brothers and would look out for you. 

You and Steve made it a routine to do small exercise and yoga in the afternoons just after 4 o'clock. How this all started was because you wanted to accomplish small goals for yourself, as Sam told you to do to help with your mental health.

"Steve," You called out as you stepped into the Tower's gym, the one place you knew where to find Steve if he wasn't in the common room.

"Oh, hey (Y/N)! What's up?" Steve turned to face you as he held the punching bag still while he watched you walk closer to him, noticing you fidgeting with your fingers nervously.

"I just... I wanted to start doing light exercises, you know, to boost my endorphins, and so I have something to do in the afternoons when I've finished with work." It wasn't a complete lie, but it just sugar-coated the fact that you just wanted to lose weight to gain confidence in yourself.

Steve had agreed to help you; he wouldn't push you too much either because he didn't want you to strain anything and not push you out of your comfort zone too much. Both of you would exercise for an hour each day in the afternoons. This routine had been going on for six weeks, and you were enjoying it. You felt better about yourself each week when you would check your progress and write down how much you lost during the week; you were more confident than you were all those weeks ago before asking Steve for help.

During one of those afternoon exercises, you and Steve were both in the Adho Mukha pose with Steve wearing his usual tight t-shirt that you swore was a size too small, and shorts while you wore a loose, black tank top, and tight-fitted leggings that complemented the shape of your plump ass. You were so in the zone that you hadn't heard the gym doors open and the sound of footsteps coming closer to you. Bucky stood behind you and Steve, him getting an eyeful of your butt while he cleared his throat to catch his best friend's attention. 

"Hey, Bucky! I didn't notice you were there. (Y/N) and I were doing some yoga, would you like to join us?" 

You. Were. Mortified. You quickly stood up beside Steve and looked down at your feet, trying to avoid looking at Bucky after having your ass practically in his face. 

"Uh, I kinda have to get ready for 'Girl's Night' tonight, but I think Bucky can keep you company." You nervously spoke, having your words jumble out quickly due to your inner-embarrassment. "I'll see you later, Steve!"

You bolted out of the gym as fast as your legs could go and made it up into your room without another incident. When you flopped onto your bed, you let out a loud, exhausted sigh before closing your eyes shut tightly. 'Why did I have to act like a nervous wreck? You didn't even let him talk for Christ's sake!' After beating yourself up over the little incident, you started to get ready for 'Girl's Night' with Nat and Wanda. 

It was two hours into 'Girl's Night' and you, Nat and Wanda had, at least, drank four glasses of Kraken Rum and about three shots of Vodka. You were more relaxed and carefree, enjoying your time with your best friends while gossiping about an episode of Criminal Minds you all saw the other day together. 

"Not gonna lie, I would love to have a man like Morgan. Have you seen his muscles? And how he kicks down doors like a badass?" You gushed.

"That is true, and I fully believe Morgan and Garcia should be together. They have chemistry and look so cute!" Wanda loved her Morgan and Garcia ship. 

"Eh, I like to have a super cute genius but that's just my opinion" Nat took a sip of her fruity vodka drink while shrugging her shoulders.

"Of course you would, you're with Bruce and that's a little bias, Nat." You gently shoved your red-haired friend playfully. 

You and Wanda giggled like school girls when Natasha scoffed before she pointed an accusing finger at you.

"Well, says you, (Y/N)! You practically drool whenever you see Barnes."

That shut you up quickly. 'How does she know?! Play it off'

"That's very funny Nat, but I don't know what you mean."

"Don't bullshit me, (Y/N). I've seen the way your cheeks get all pink and how your eyes are glued to him whenever he walks by. You're so smitten it's grossly cute." Then Wanda turned to you with a small smirk on her face.

"Maybe you should ask him to work out with you and Steve!"

Flashbacks of your embarrassment earlier that day made your face go pale. 'Absolutely not'. You shook your head furiously, staring at your two friends with fear. There was no way you'd have the guts to do such a thing, not after how you acted around him before. Plus, you didn't want him to look at you with disgust when he looks at you working out. You shake off all the negative thoughts before finishing off your last bits of rum.

"I think I'm going to head off to bed now, gotta wake up early tomorrow. Tony wants me to help him organize and plan a gala party to celebrate his newest project. And when I say to 'help him' I mean I'll be doing most of the work while he hides away in his lab with Bruce." You said before walking off and waving the girls goodbye.

2 weeks later...

You had most of the gala planned out. You had booked a cute catering company to organize some food dishes for everyone and even hired a group of people to decorate one of the large common rooms that would fit all the guests on Tony's guest-list. You had even bought a cute new dress to wear for the party. The party was starting that night at 7:30 and you would hopefully get everything done while having an hour and a half to spare to get ready. 

When the decorating and planning finished, you quickly made your way to your room and got showered and changed. You stood in front of your mirror for quite some time, nitpicking every flaw you could see, judging your appearance because you knew how the other women at the party were going to look flawless and have every man swooping in for them. A sudden knock on your door snapped you out of your negative thoughts.

"(Y/n), you ready?" Wanda's voice called from the other side.

"Y-yeah! I'm coming now." You dashed for the door to get away from the mirror so you can't put yourself down even more. Once opening the door, Wanda linked your arm with hers, and both of you walked toward the elevator. 

Telling FRIDAY which floor, you both arrived just as a few of the guests were mingling around; drinking, eating, and chatting. You glanced around, hoping to see the familiar faces of your friends, spotting Sam, Nat, and Clint near the bar where Natasha was serving the drinks. Tony was standing next to Pepper and being an absolute flirt as always while Steve and Bucky were standing near a corner with drinks in hand. Before you could make your way over to the bar, Wanda told you to wait where you were while she goes to quickly touch up her make-up, disappearing before you could say a word. You stood there awkwardly and looked around, making sure everything was going swimmingly until you felt a presence behind you. A tap on your confirmed that someone was indeed behind you.

You turned around to see a group of two slender women and three muscular men staring at you with smug and cocky smiles on their faces.

"Can we get some more drinks? And make them with a little more alcohol this time." One of the men quirked an eyebrow, waiting for you to scurry off to grab their drinks.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not part of catering. I'm-"

"You certainly look it though, I mean, you're not dressed like you're here as a guest. The dress you're wearing looks like the other catering staff." A woman spat, her eyes narrowed at you. You started to feel self-conscious about your outfit now, realizing the color-scheme looked very similar to the catering staff.

"Plus, the dress isn't that flattering for your body hun. We can practically see your muffin top and panty lines with how tight that dress is on you." The other woman commented while she leaned to the side to glance at more of your plush figure.

A stinging sensation began to appear behind your eyes, feelings of doubt, and an anxiety attack began to make themselves known. So looked away from the group and quickly made for the elevator, shooting Wanda a quick text saying you weren't feeling too well. 'How stupid of me to think I even looked good or that I could fit in at the party.' By the time the elevator doors reached your floor and the doors opened, hot tears were falling down your cheeks as you tried to furiously wipe them away with zero results. The tears kept flowing down as you began to walk down the hallway to your room; quiet footsteps barely making noise as they followed you. Just as your hand settled on the door handle, a warm hand clasped onto your shoulder gently. With a yelp, you spun around with a jump to look at your "attacker", only to find a pair of stormy blue eyes staring at your teary eyes intensely. 

Bucky's eyes held hints of concern and worry, but it was hard to see because he was good at hiding his emotions, and the fact that your eyes were blurry from crying.

"You okay, (Y/n)? I saw you leave the party quickly and noticed how fast your breathing was." Bucky had to look down at you because he was so tall, or was it because you were just very short?

"I'm fine, Bucky. I just don't do well in crowded places or with so many strangers. I got a bit overwhelmed but it's fine now." You weakly smiled but he could see right through it, he always did.

"You had a panic attack after speaking to a group of people, and judging by the looks they gave you while talking to them, I can only believe it wasn't a pleasant conversation." Bucky then brought both his flesh and metal hands to cup your face while he peered into your eyes more. "Tell me what happened, doll." 

You sighed, you knew he wasn't going to let this go. Even though you both barely spoke to each other, he still cared for you like the both of you knew each other for years. Something about his calm voice and caring nature helped your nerves settle.

"They thought I was part of catering and asked if I could get them more drinks. I told them I wasn't catering, only for them to make snarky comments about my outfit and body. But it's fine, I'm used to having those comments made to me, I've dealt with those types of people all my life." Your hands gently held his and tried to move them away from your face but Bucky didn't budge. 

"You don't believe them, right? I mean, I think the dress looks good on you. It shows off your curves and any man who doesn't get blown away is blind."

You gave a humorless laugh and shook your head at Bucky, looking down at the floor.

"You're just saying that to be nice to me, Buck. We both know girls like me don't belong in a place like this, or a party like that. You can go back to the party, I don't want to waste more of your time." You went to turn away when Bucky held your upper arms tightly.

"Not a chance, doll. I'm not a fan of crowds myself and was about to leave the party myself until I saw you run away. I'd rather spend my time with you and making sure you don't ever think that you don't belong."

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, his stare was intense with adoration and love while you stared at him in shock that he'd want to spend time with you. Before you could blink, Bucky leaned down and you felt his soft lips on yours, his arms wrapping around you and caging you into a warm and gentle embrace. Your hands rested onto his firm chest while his hands rested on your lower back, just above your butt. At first, you were in shock but then you gave in to the kiss and snaked your arms around his neck, your fingers embedded into his long hair. 

The kiss was full of passion, and so much love that you didn't think it was possible. When the need for air was too much, you both separated and looked into each other's eyes once again.

"H-how? Why me? We barely know each other!"

"Because, (Y/n), I've been smitten for you since I first laid eyes on you but didn't have the guts to tell you. Steve's been a punk and trying to get me to join your work out sessions for weeks but I was too nervous to do it." Bucky's cheeks tinted red as he chuckled.

"And why's that? I was scared that if saw me working out, that you'd be grossed out by my body." You explained, chewing on your bottom lip.

"I could never be grossed out, sweetheart. I love a woman with curves and plumpness to her. I was nervous that if I watched you work out, I would try to make a move on you too fast and scare you away. I didn't want that to happen." Bucky grabbed your chin and leaned in again, his lips almost touching yours. "And you looked downright sexy in those tights, they shape your ass well."

You gasped and lightly smacked his shoulder while he smirked at you. His playfulness coming through. You made the first move this time and got onto your tippy toes to kiss him. This is was quicker than the first but still held the same emotions. With so much strength you underestimated he had, Bucky lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he opened your door and carried you over to your bedroom. Both of you watched a bunch of movies in your room; many kisses were shared before you both passed out, cuddled up under your fluffy blankets, safe in Bucky's arms. Right where you were meant to be all along.

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Thanks for reading!!! <3 <3 <3

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily 

Summary:

Emily Prentiss, college sophomore, absolutely does not have a crush on the girl across the hall.  

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months. 

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

“Come in, it’s open!” Emily Prentiss yelled out over her music blasting out of the laptop on her desk. She was listening to her pregame playlist, which was chock full of throwbacks, middle-school jams and of course, The Killers to keep things interesting.

Derek Morgan pushed open her dorm room door and waltzed in. He had a pair of light blue jeans on, held up by a brown belt, with a white t-shirt on top. He jumped on top of Emily’s slightly-too-high bed, and bounced as he grinned at her. Derek was many things, shy was definitely not one of them.

“You look hot,” Emily said, with as much sarcasm as she could manage, looking him up and down. She could tell he dressed up.

“You know it, princess.”

Rifling through his backpack, he grinned as he pulled out two blue college-branded metal water bottles, filled with what was probably not water at all.

“I made us sangria!”

Emily laughed, then spun back around in her desk chair. She still needed to finish her makeup. She had her foundation and eyebrows done, but she needed to focus as she applied her eyeliner.

“Did you just mix some juice into the wine?” She asked, taking the bottle from him, having a sip of the fruity liquid.

“Yup! There’s going to be a keg there, but I wanted to give us options.”

Emily laughed before focusing on her mascara wand gliding across her lower eyelashes, trying to finish up so they could start preing for the party. She wasn’t quite dressed yet either, still wearing her class jeans and not her going out jeans (there was an important distinction between these that mostly involved whether or not she could wear them with a belt.) Morgan was about five minutes earlier than she expected. Moreover, the boy had only sprung the invitation to the party during their lab that afternoon.

As much as she hated to admit it, Derek was basically 90% of Emily’s non-academic social life, the second year boy already very well connected due to his football scholarship, letting him in on all of the good parties. Unfortunately that also meant for Emily that he would spring themed parties like anything but clothes, or no cups allowed on her with absolutely no heads up most weekends.

Emily will not wear a tote bag as a skirt again if she can help it.

Despite the excessive drinking and mixed bag of party attendees, Emily genuinely enjoyed the boy’s company. Anyways, he was the best beer-pong partner that she’s ever had.

“Can I hop on aux?” He asked, leaning over her computer before she could even protest.

“Sure,” she replied, knowing he was already on his own Spotify account and putting on his playlist titled ‘FOR THE BOYS and emily’ that he found hilarious. She knew she could get him to sing along to the Mamma Mia! (2008) soundtrack once he was a few shots in, but for now she resigned herself to wordless EDM.

He sat on her desk, bobbing his head along to the beat.

Emily reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a smallish bottle of vodka and two shot glasses, with their college’s crest etched into the glass. For a school that denounced drinking-culture, they had a shocking amount of merch for sale that encouraged it.

She filled each to the line, and slid one towards her friend.

“Bottoms up,” she said, as they cheersed the foul tasting liquid. Morgan grinned and winked at her before shooting it back with the confidence that only a nineteen year old could have.

Vodka still made her queasy, but being underage meant that the college students would take what they could get. Morgan’s senior friends would boot alcohol for them for an extra five bucks, but only every few weeks.

The one thing about the states that Emily still couldn’t wrap her head around was the backwards alcohol policy. Almost everywhere else on earth she would already be legally drinking. Hell, when she was 16 she was passed out in a ditch in rural England, drunk off her ass on legally acquired beer. Even now, if they drove north of the border, Emily could be off to the bars, no questions asked. America was absurd.

“How was the rest of your day?” Emily asked him as she stood up, digging through her dirty laundry to find her other pair of jeans. She tossed aside her fuzzy pjs, a bra and an assortment of band tees but her jeans must’ve been at the bottom. She needed to do laundry but was ripe out of quarters.

“Eh,” he made a face, “I had to finish up that quiz for psych, but honestly I just needed to catch up on some readings. I had like fifty pages of a badly scanned book from like a hundred years ago to annotate.”

“Reading? In this economy?” Emily snarked at him, still rooting through the bin. She knew her blue jeans were here somewhere.

“Well I know you can’t read,” he replied in a haughty tone, “doesn’t mean the rest of us have to remain unenlightened!”

“Ha-ha.”

There they were, right at the bottom of the bin. She changed right then, with Morgan politely averting his eyes, despite the fact that both have seen just about everything in the year or so that they’ve been acquainted.

No, they didn’t hook up or anything, it wasn’t like that.

It was the strange phenomenon that only could happen in college where you get really close really fast. Emily’s RA had explained it to their first-year floor, likening it to soldiers in the war (Emily wasn’t sure if the metaphor was kosher, but it was apt.). Young adults first starting out in the world, free from their family supervision and previous lives, cling on to those around them for stability. The RA explained this as in a cautionary tale, explaining that this can lead to high emotions, to fights, and… a bit more.

This talk led into their floor-cest talk, which was apparently required in every co-ed dorm at their school. Emily was the first to point out the heteronormativity in that policy. Floor-cest, for the uninitiated, was the concept of hooking up with someone on your floor in the dorm. It was formally discouraged by residence life staff. It was easy to have meaningless sex, harder when you have sex with someone you live down the hall from. Things could get messy.

Emily and Derek got this talk on move in day, both sitting cross-legged on the floor of their common room as their RA, a bubbly girl named Carol, explained the fundamentals of dorm life. Emily has been dropped off by her mother’s driver, who helped her unload her things.

Emily was still reeling from being surrounded by happy families, of crying parents and bitter that her mother was too busy to even send her own daughter off to school. Not that Emily wanted her there or anything, but the gesture would have been nice.

She remembered the startling moment when Derek walked straight into her room and offered his hand, introducing himself to his new neighbour.

They shared a wall, the co-ed bathroom down the hall, and most of their free time for their first year at college.

He had assumed that the driver, Paul who was one of Emily’s favourites out of her mother’s staff, was Emily’s father, which started things off on an awkward note. Soon she was swept up in a whirlwind of his family: his mom and sisters who insisted that Emily pose for photos of Derek and ‘his new dorm friend.’

A year later, Emily and Morgan were basically siblings. Emily didn’t actually have any siblings, but after going to Chicago for thanksgiving with the Morgan family, she was pretty sure she had officially been adopted.

Last year, they had a much nicer dorm, one of the newer ones with big windows and nice common spaces. This year they were both living in the oldest residence, a beautiful red brick building, covered with ivy, but the inside was all painted this gross beige, and the paint would chip off whenever Emily tried to hang her posters. There was also no air conditioning, the showers didn’t get too hot and the kitchen smelt like eggs. It was definitely a downgrade, but at least Morgan was on the same floor as her again.

Morgan had lucked out and gotten a corner room with tons of windows, and Emily was right next to the bathroom and could hear when anyone flushed.

After donning the jeans and a black tank top, Emily grabbed her leather jacket and they were ready to go.

“Another shot?” Derek asked, grinning at her mischievously.

“Of course,” Emily said. “Where are we even going anyways?”

“Well, you remember David, the TA from our psych lab? His housemates are throwing a party in their backyard. I heard there was going to be a DJ!”

“David Rossi?” Emily said incredulously, “How did you swing an invite to that?”

“I can’t reveal all of my secrets, you know that pretty lady.”

Emily scoffed. It was probably through their mutual friend Aaron Hotchner, who despite not being much of a partier, was very in the loop about the happenings on campus.

“Did you invite you know who?” Derek asked, a bit too casually as Emily locked her door.

Emily refused to bite.

“She definitely has better things to do than hang out with the likes of us.”

---

“I’m a criminology major,” Emily repeated, the exasperation in her voice palatable.

The boy, who was on the rugby team as she already learned, had asked her what her major was. He misheard her and began asking her how she likes studying biology.

The music was loud and the boy was clearly wasted off his ass. She was pretty sure she saw him do a keg stand in the kitchen earlier.

Emily took another sip of her drink, keeping it close to her chest. She looked around. They were only five minutes off campus at a decent-sized student house. The room was close to being at capacity, the old home creaking under the weight of dozens of students crammed into the living room. Music blared on a strangely impressive speaker system. The party was at its peak in the backyard, and was probably only an hour from being shut down by the cops if it got much louder.

Emily had carefully positioned herself next to the open window, enjoying the slight breeze as the body heat was making the old house steamy with humidity. This also happened to be the location of the bong, but she accepted the trade-off.

Derek was currently playing king’s cup, a game Emily refuses to play, since last time she got roped into it she lost miserably. She was forced to drink the king’s cup: a mixture of shitty beer, whiskey, cider wine and whole cream from the fridge, as she had been a bit too slow with bouncing the ball into the red solo cup. Derek held her hair back as she puked off the porch that night.

Never again.

Emily squinted as a few people she recognized walked into the room. It was only a month into classes, so she really hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know the new random assortment of people in her building, lectures and in her general orbit but she was pretty sure she was starting to recognize some faces.

Entering the party was the blonde from the end of the hallway who always complimented Emily on her outfits when she passed and had the most colourfully decorated dorm in the entire building. ‘Penelope G.’ read her name tag pinned to her door in their RA’s loopy handwriting.

Next to her was a younger boy that she had seen in the cafeteria with Penelope before, and while Emily wasn’t that good at identifying ages, he definitely looked a bit too young to be at college. He was tall, skinny and had a mop of unruly brown hair. He was also wearing a sweater to a house party, which was a major beginners mistake. He looked around nervously.

A few seconds later, the door closed, only dumping an assortment of other boys into the already packed house.

Emily let out a breath she didn’t know she held, as she found herself hoping that Garcia’s other friend might have been joining her that night.

Derek had teased her already about the girl across the hall. Jennifer Jareau. “My friends call me JJ,” she had said. Second year varsity soccer player and communications major. The girl Derek was convinced that Emily had a crush on.

JJ was the kind of girl who propped her door open during orientation week and always waved at Emily when she walked down the hall.

She did not have a crush. She barely knew anything about her besides that she was blonde, athletic and was always smiling. Both had been so busy since school had started, and seemed to have completely opposite schedules that they hadn’t really gotten to really connect.

Whenever Emily was coming back to their floor, JJ always seemed to be leaving. And vice versa. Somehow they were on exact opposite schedules. Probably since JJ was a varsity soccer player with early morning practise, and Emily was a bit of a night owl (that was a polite way of saying insomniac procrastinator perfectionist.)

She seemed to hang out with Garcia around residence, Emily having spotted the two getting coffee or studying in the library together occasionally, hence Emily’s hopes that Garcia may have JJ in tow that evening.

JJ was also definitely, one hundred percent, completely straight. Fairy lights and Polaroid pictures on her walls straight. She even had a high school sweetheart that might survive the turkey dumping season. Emily didn’t know his name but JJ said the key word early on in the year: boyfriend.

Emily turned back to the boy in front of her, who was describing, in detail, how the stock market worked, without realizing that Emily was not paying attention at all.

He was quite conventionally attractive, with mussed curly hair and broad shoulders. He obviously was interested in her—or rather interested in talking at her and potentially sleeping with her—that despite herself, Emily decided to slot him into her roster for that evening.

Emily considered herself a reluctant bisexual. Women could make her heart skip a beat just by looking in her direction, and men could get it when the situation was right and she didn’t have any other options. The second half of this pleased her mother to no end, as when young fourteen year old Emily Prentiss had decided to come out to her mother—at one of their rare dinners together—she watched her mother grit her teeth and tell her to keep that to herself. Her mother had eventually accepted this part of her daughter’s life, but only under the assumption that Emily would eventually end up with a man, and keep the rest to herself.

Emily looked around the room and wondered if she was going to have any other options that evening besides the very talkative boy.

Excusing herself from the company of…Matthew, she thinks was his name, she tries to find Derek, who had disappeared into the kitchen. Emily weaved through the crowd, steering past a couple making out in the corner.

She turned the corner and found Derek filling his cup with more beer from the keg. He grinned up at her and did the same for her.

“I hate beer,” Emily said to him, grimacing at the scratchy taste of the fermented barley in her red solo cup.

“Suck it up buttercup, you’re in college. You also complained about the juice from earlier.”

“Yeah well, watering down eleven percent wine is as bad as this five percent crap.”

“It did taste a lot better,” he agreed. “Who was that guy?”

Emily rolled her eyes.

“Matthew attempted to explain macroeconomics to me.”

“Oh god, is that what men are like out there?” He asked. “Guess you’re stuck with me tonight.”

“Lucky me.”

“Pong?” He asked, gesturing towards the row of tables set up in the backyard, through the open door and passed the crowd milling about near the speakers. The game seemed to be wrapping up, as the two teams shook hands and reset the cups to their original positions.

“Always.”

They found their spot at one of the tables across from their new opponents: Penelope and her very young looking friend.

“Penelope Garcia?” Derek grinned, recognizing the girl from their floor and walking up to her for a hug. Their rooms were facing each other, and they had apparently gotten the chance to get to know each other.

She grinned and hugged him, clearly a lot more sober than him having only arrived minutes earlier. There seemed to be a lot of hugging at house parties, Emily discovered when she moved to America, acquaintances became close friends once alcohol was involved.

She had bright pink glasses and a matching dress, with bright artfully done make-up highlighting her large smile. Emily knew that she was a CompSci major and had loaded her dorm room desk with monitors and the largest computer set-up that Emily had seen in her life.

“Derek, my love,” Penelope replied, gushing over Emily’s friend in an unexpected, but not unsurprising way. “Fancy meeting you here! And Emily! Have you two met my fine young friend here, Spencer?”

She gestured to the boy, who waved awkwardly.

“Hi, I’m Spencer Reid,” he said.

“He’s like a boy-genius or something. He already has a degree in mathematics and he’s currently working on his second degree in engineering. Isn’t that très cool? We met at the club fair last week.”

“I’m double majoring in philosophy,” he added.

“How old are you kid?” Morgan asked him, quick to the punch.

“Uh- sixteen?” Spencer seemed to ask, shrinking into himself a bit. “I skipped a couple of grades.”

He had a pair of glasses perched on his nose, a brown sweater with a white shirt collar poking through and had tucked his brown hair behind his ears. He was still taller than Penelope, but the smattering of acne and wide eyes made it clear that he was very much a kid.

“More than a couple!” Morgan exclaimed.

He shrugged.

“Are you in intro to logic with Williams?” Emily asked, realizing that she had recognized him from somewhere.

“Yes, I am. Though I find his repeated chess metaphors a touch reductive.”

“You’re right about that. Like, we get it Willy, you play chess. Big whoop,” Emily said, then introduced herself.

He smiled at her, slightly less awkwardly this time but with a touch more confusion.

“And this is Derek Morgan,” Penelope piped in, “the most gorgeous football player I know.”

“Do you know any other football players?” Spencer asked.

“Now you hush!” She admonished him. “We have a game to play.”

“Do you two have something to drink?” Derek asked them, moving back towards their side of the long fold-up table, which was crudely painted in their schools colours.

Emily took a sip of her beer, wondering if the boy should be drinking.

Penelope babbled about how it was Spencer’s first college party, and how she was so excited that it was this one because look at the pretty string lights decorating the backyard and the fact that there was a keg, like in the movies.

Smiling at her new neighbour, Emily thought that this might also be Penelope's first college party.

Derek returned with a cup of water for Spencer, and some beer for Penelope. Spencer seemed relieved at the gesture, smiling as he took a sip. Emily marvelled at her friend's kindness, despite what anyone said about drinking culture on campuses either way, it was tough to attend a party and not drink, putting his drink in a matching red cup gave him the appearance of participation.

“Do we all know the rules?” Derek asked.

“The question you should ask,” Emily said, “Is if they’re willing to play by your rules.”

Emily had discovered that this game, depending on the people you were playing with, had radically different rules. While the premise of the game remained the same: there were six cups on each side of the table, into which you threw ping pong balls and whenever you got a ball in a cup, that cup was then taken out of the picture until there were no cups left. Depending on who you were playing with, the cups were filled with water or beer (Emily hated when they had beer in them, it make things sticky and it was very unsanitary), there were specific rules to what defined an airball, when one could get balls back, when you could call island and what was a permissible trick shot.

“Ha ha Prentiss,” Derek said to her, rolling the ping pong ball in his hands. “I wanted to know if they had played before.”

“Oh I’ve played before,” Penelope said, “and I am unbeatable.”

She waggled her fingers in a gesture that implied magic was involved.

“It’s simple physics,” Spencer added, “I’ve memorized the rules and common approaches. We’ll be more than fine. ”

“Ok pretty boy, let’s see what you’ve got. Eye to eye?”

Looking into each other’s eyes, rather than at their targets, the two boys aimed at the cups, with only Reid’s making it in.

“What the fuck Morgan,” Emily exclaimed as Penelope and Spencer whooped, “what even was that throw?”

With the other team having won the privilege of starting first, Emily was forced to toss her ball towards Penelope, who took it with a grin.

She threw first, missing the table entirely.

“Air ball!” Derek announced, leaping forward and waving his hands in front of the cups on their side, the rules granting him the ability to defend their territory.

Spencer frowned, apparently perturbed by this turn of events. He stuck out his tongue, aimed, and launched the ball, hitting Morgan right in the chest. The ball bounced off of it and fell straight down into the cup.

Derek’s draw dropped. Spencer and Penelope whooped in excitement.

“Derek, how did you lose us that cup?” Emily whined, pulling one of their cups to the side. One point to Spencer.

Derek, who had something to prove, lined up his shot. He gazed at his targets with the focus of a sniper, dunked the ball into one of their cups, dousing it with water, and rolled it in his hands, giving it a bit more weight. He aimed and fired off a quick shot into the centre-left cup. It spun around in the cup, floating above the water, but fell in. If the other team were crafty, they would have blown into the cup and Derek would have lost the point, but Emily sighed in relief when she realized that despite their first point, they didn’t know the rules well enough to beat the current reigning beer champs.

It was Emily’s turn. She took a gulp of her beer—she would always swear she was better when she was drunk because she didn’t think too hard about it—and threw. It neatly fell into the back right cup, scoring them two points for that round.

“Balls back!” Derek roared in delight.

Penelope tossed them, and the game continued.

They sunk one more shot on their turn. 3-1.

Penelope got another cup, Spencer missed. 3-2.

Derek’s ball bounced out, Emily sank hers. 4-2.

Only minutes later, after playing at breakneck speed, there were three cups left on the table and Derek and Emily were quite drunk, with Penelope not far behind. Reid, still very sober, was matching the duo with intense concentration.

It was his throw, with two cups left until his victory. He shots carefully, sinking it without a splash.

Derek and Emily had one cup to go. He went first, sending one barreling towards the cup. It hit the rim and instead of going in, it bounced towards Emily, who leaped forward and grabbed it before it fell off the table.

“Trick shot!” She yelled. Derek could try again, but only if he does it in an inventive way. At the frat house they spent a lot of time in first year, the only acceptable trick shot (under this house’s rules) was bouncing the ball off a poster of Obama. This time, Derek takes an empty cup, puts the ball in, and uses the cup to aim.

Somehow, it went in.

They leap into the air, yelling with delight. But they hadn’t won yet. The other team still had a redemption shot.

“How ya feeling kid?” Derek taunted, “Wanna give up now, save yourself the embarrassment?”

“Not a chance.”

He squinted at the table, lining up his shot with precision. With his left hand he licked his finger, sticking it up in the air like golfers do to measure the wind. Emily wasn't sure if this was a joke, something to psych Derek out, or something the boy was genuinely able to do. He frowned, seeming to ponder the information.

He aimed. He tossed it. He sunk the redemption shot.

They were in overtime.

“You can do it princess,” Derek told her, watching her with utmost intensity. Emily adjusted her stance, chugging back the last of that glass of beer, feeling the alcohol with greater focus than before.

She glanced around at the other team, but out of the corner of her eye she caught a familiar face looking at her: Jennifer Jareau from residence. Her not crush.

She was looking at her. Watching her play.

A swell of nervousness flooded up through her lungs, and she forced it out by huffing a breath.

She needed another drink. Moreover, she needed to focus.

Emily threw it. If it made it in, then they won. If she missed, Spencer and Garcia had another shot at redemption. They couldn’t lose this, not now, not in front of… uh, everyone. She was definitely not thinking about JJ in this situation. That would be something a frat boy thought about. She didn’t want to win beer pong to impress some girl, she wanted to win because she had pride.

The ball sailed through the air, Emily held her breath. It caught the lip of the cup, teetered. A splash announced that they had won.

Thank god.

With a whoop, realizing what they had done, Emily and Derek roared with joy, jumping into each other and hugging in their celebration. A few onlookers clapped, noticing how close the game had been.

They pulled apart and reached out their hands to their opponents.

“Great game,” Emily said, shaking Spencer's hand, “Really.”

He grinned despite his loss.

“Honestly I understand the principles, it’s simple parabolas and high-school level physics,” he frowned, “Unfortunately, I need to work on translating those parabolas into the real world.”

“We’ll work on it Spence,” Garcia grinned, shaking Emily’s hand while smiling at her younger friend.

Emily realized that in their celebration, Derek had spilled quite a bit of beer onto Emily’s sleeve and down the side of her shirt and it was currently dripping onto her boots. Emily sighed, handing her friend her cup.

“I’ve got beer all over me,” Emily sighed, “Get me a refill? I’m going to try to find a bathroom.”

Derek nodded and turned back to their new friends, chatting about how impressed he was with their game.

Emily felt a bit sticky, feeling the beer coat her bare arm. Walking back into the house, she glanced at the kitchen sink trying to see if there was any paper towel or something there, but no luck. The sink was full of dishes, the counters covered in assorted empties and cups, without a dishcloth in sight. Not wanting to rifle through their drawers, she made her way towards the staircase.

There was a couple making out on the staircase, which was not something Emily would do herself. It seemed a bit precarious since alcohol was involved, but, to each their own, she thought. Emily opened a couple of the doors upstairs before discovering one of the most disgusting washrooms she’d ever seen.

There was only one thing in the shower: dawn dish soap. The boys who lived here must use that for their bodies. Emily shuddered. On the sink were some toothbrushes, razors and some floss, but for some reason, no soap. Emily found a roll of toilet paper on the floor (ew), and wadded it up to try to reduce the wet spot on her side and hopefully from smelling like a brewery when she returned to residence.

For a moment, Emily found herself gazing at herself in the mirror, feeling hazy and a bit unsteady. She checked her make-up, noting that her dark red lipstick was holding up, but her mascara had smudged under her eyes giving her more of a goth vibe than the alt look she typically went for.

Emily sat down on the tub, patting the toilet paper against her wet clothing, feeling very drunk now that she was seated. Dammit Morgan, couldn’t he have spilled his beer on himself instead of her nice shirt?

The thud of the music was muffled, but there was a ringing in her ears that made everything feel very quiet. That was until there was a thundering of footsteps and the sound of a girl announcing: “I’m going to vom, right now.”

Emily sat, jaw dropped, as a red headed girl threw open the bathroom door, kneeled down on the floor next to the toilet, and relieved herself from the contents of her stomach without so much as a knock. The girl coughed into the bowl, yacking up what was probably way too much beer for the poor tiny girl.

“Oh my gosh,” said another voice, at the door, “I’m so sorry. We didn’t realize there was someone here! ”

Emily looked up, realizing the voice came from no other than Jennifer Jareau.

“JJ!” Emily said, not really knowing what else to do with the girl heaving at her feet.

“You ok?” JJ kneeled down next to her friend, carefully pulling her friend’s long hair back, tugging a hair tie off her own wrist and collecting it so that it didn’t get anything on it.

Emily felt stupid sitting on the tub, not helping anything. She tossed the rest of the toilet paper in the garbage, placing the half-empty roll on the edge of the tub.

“Can I get her some water?” Emily asked, “To rinse her mouth?”

JJ looked up at her and nodded. Emily felt herself blushing slightly as she turned away. Who let one girl’s eyes be so big, and so blue. It was rude.

She returned a minute later having had to rinse her own beer cup out in the gross kitchen sink to make sure that she wasn’t accidentally giving this girl some random person's sketchy cup.

Emily remembered that earlier Derek said that it was a varsity party, so it did make sense that JJ was also in attendance. The whole team probably was. The other girl looked like a soccer player, she had that vibe.

Emily handed the cup to JJ, who gave her a grateful smile. Emily felt their fingers touch for a moment, before JJ turned to attend to her friend.

She tried to get her to take a sip, and Emily took the moment to look JJ up and down, taking in her light blue skinny jeans, black tank and high heeled boots. She was basically wearing the uniform of a straight white girl at a houseparty. Not to say Emily wasn’t also basically wearing the same outfit, pairing the jeans with combat boots and attempting to set herself apart with her black nail polish and eyeliner that her mother once called ‘a lot.’

In contrast to Emily’s fairly undefined thin body, she took note of the strong looking shoulders that flexed as JJ kneeled down on the floor. She was definitely an athlete. Emily looked away, checking her phone, feeling suddenly embarrassed for looking at the girl.

‘Where u go bbg????’ Read a new message from Derek.

‘Girl puknigh up hre’ Emily typed, ‘Got her waterr’

Emily blinked at her typos, pressing the red underlined words, hoping her phone would correct them for her. She wasn’t that drunk.

The two girls were talking quietly, and Emily decided to take her leave, but before she could the red-head beat her to the punch deciding that she wanted to puke in peace.

“Leave me aloooooonnne Jennifer,” she wined. “Get out, I don’t want any more fucking water.”

JJ pulled back, making a face and holding her hands up in the ‘I surrender’ motion. Emily hurried out into the hall with JJ on her heels. The girl kicked the door shut angrily, and the sound of her retching ensued.

“There was a funnel,” JJ offered as an explanation. She leaned against the door. “How has your night been?”

Emily blinked. JJ was making conversation. She didn’t want Emily to leave just yet.

“So far so good,” Emily replied. “Doing better than your friend, at least.”

“That’s not hard to do. So I guess you didn’t chug from a funnel yet?” JJ quipped, smiling and revealing a perfect, white smile.

“Oh I have that scheduled for one-thirty, actually,” Emily said, pretending to check her watch and grinning.

“Let me know before you do, I’d like to watch that,” JJ said casually.

A wave of heat rushed to Emily’s face as she realized that drinking from a funnel would entail Emily on her knees, with JJ watching her… a thought that she needed to push out of her brain immediately.

“I’ll have you know,” Emily said in retort, “I can chug amongst the best. I am no stranger to these sorts of parties.”

JJ grinned. “Oh yeah?”

“I’m a reigning beer pong champ, I’ll have you know.”

They laughed.

“I saw your last victory. Very impressive.”

JJ, in a controlled fall, slid down the door and sat down in the hall, resigning herself to waiting for her friend. Emily wondered if she should return to Morgan now, but unable to tear herself away from the opportunity for a conversation with JJ.

“I’m awful at pong,” the blonde admitted. “I miss every time.”

“You probably just need a good teacher.”

JJ raised her eyebrows, “oh yeah?”

“I mean,” Emily said, sitting down onto the top step of the staircase, facing her floormate, “it’s all about hand eye coordination. It’s basically a sport. You need a coach.”

They both laughed.

“Well if that’s the case, why don’t you teach me?”

Emily gulped.

The door opened, and JJ fell back slightly before catching herself.

“I’m going home,” JJ’s friend announced.

JJ looked up at her dishevelled friend and nodded, turning back to look at Emily apologetically.

“Another time?” Emily offered, smiling before walking down the stairs and rejoining the party.

Next chapter ->

[artsoupsoupart]

Madney Week 2021: Body Party

Smut ahead. Read with caution.

Day Four: “Hey beautiful, are you single?” “We’ve been married for a year.” + fun

Read of Ao3

The rays of the late afternoon sun glisten on the wide expanse of ocean, glittering and twinkling so bright that it would be blinding without the large-framed sunglasses perched on her nose. Everything is peaceful here. Howie had wanted to visit this little villa for so long. It’s always in high demand so scheduling had never been in their favor. They’ve always been too busy with work and the kids. Normally, by the time they were able to finally be together alone, it’s the end of the day and they’re exhausted. Maddie had made it her mission to surprise him with five blissful days of just the two of them because life, as wonderful as it is, had gotten in the way and they hadn’t been able to have a real honeymoon and she figured their first anniversary as a married couple was the perfect time for a getaway.

“Hey, beautiful, are you single?” she hears him next to her and she peeks an eye open. Chimney extends out yet another fruity cocktail he’s mixed up. His skin shines from the sunscreen and he’s deliciously golden, his abs emphasized by the past couple days of relaxing in the sunshine. His soft lips are against hers as he hands her the glass, and she can taste the alcohol and fruit on his lips.

“We’ve been married for a year,” Maddie playfully rolls her eyes when they part.

A year ago, had been the best day of their lives, perhaps only overshadowed by the births of their three children. It’s the longest they’ve ever been without their now prides and joys. But the Lees had offered a week of babysitting and who were they to deny themselves a real honeymoon. They had gotten married three months after their youngest son was born, the wedding had been planned and he, just like his sisters, had been a surprise.

“And yet, it feels like just yesterday you said, ‘I do’,” He grins at her. He’s so sweet, always has been. He makes her heart flutter still and she couldn’t be more grateful.  

Those eyes of his, deep and commanding run down her posed body. His favorite color is red, and the scarlet bikini was carefully chosen so she would receive the exact look he’s giving her right now. The one that says he’s all hers and she’s all his and that he wants his hands all over her. He craves her, is crazy about her, and perhaps she had forgotten just how much in their busy life. But he’s reminded her every single day that they’ve been alone and he’s going to continue to do so for as long as they live.

He thinks she’s even more beautiful than he remembers her being all those years ago when he  had set up her security system. Her skin is already tanner than it had been at the beginning of their vacation. The swimsuit emphasizes it and he think’s she looks as good as caramel drizzle.

“Take a dip with me,” he tugs at her hand and she’s happy to oblige, both of their drinks being placed on the small table.

The water is cool, and the sea breeze filters around them. They are weightless together, unencumbered by anything other than just being present with each other. For a few minutes they simply enjoy their close solitude, arms wrapped around each other as they float and bounce from one side of the pool to the other. His nose nuzzles her chin. Her hands run through his hair. The breeze of the ocean cools them while the beating of the late sunshine keeps them comfortably warm. Their kisses are slow, languid, and passionate.

The edge of the infinity pool leads right into the ocean. It’s truly beautiful, but it is no match for his wife. He thinks Maddie’s touch as his wife is just as new as it is familiar. It’s all made up in his head, but he’s more sensitive to her, every touch eliciting a chaotic whirlwind of primitive lust. Chimney kisses the base of her neck, his teeth nipping at her collarbone, and a shiver runs through her.

“The salty air turns you on, does it Mr. Han?”

His chuckle is low, and he presses against her thigh to show her just how aroused he is. She licks her lips, her hands tugging at his arms in what can only be called thinly veiled desperation. That’s all for her, Maddie thinks to herself. Had they not already been standing in the pool; she knows she’d be soaked already. If it were up to her and her constant impatience, he’d be buried inside of her at this very moment, but he wants to make this last because they’ve only got two more nights here in paradise and every moment, every bit of pleasure he can draw from her matters.

“Patience, Mrs. Han.”. Maddie figures she’ll never get over sharing his last name, of choosing to be his just like he chooses to be hers.

He has too much power over her. She’s known that for as long as they’ve had a romantic relationship. So, she wills her fingers to grasp his chin to make sure he pays attention to her and her only, a sneaky smile on her face. Their lips hover over each other, a ghost of a kiss just centimeters from connecting before she leans back and floats away from him. He groans at her teasing, his delayed reach for her hindered by the buoyancy of the water.

Her hands reach behind her back when she has his undivided attention, unclipping the clasps of the bikini top and letting the offending material fall away from her body to float above the water. Chimney’s eyes are practically vantablack in color. He’s frozen for a moment, his gaze focused on the tops of her breasts as they peek out above the water. All it takes is a raised brow for him to be back by her side, to have her pressed against the wall of the pool. His lips are against hers once more but no longer is it that soft, loving kiss of before. Chimney is filled with desire, lust, devotion, excitement, and he wants to show her just how much she affects him.

Maddie is so grateful they have no responsibilities for the first in so long. There’s nothing to worry about, nothing to plan. There is just him and her and them and they can touch and caress as much as they want to.

She looks so damn sexy, delectable really. His hands raise from the water, his digits testing the weight of her breasts along with the water. Her nipples hadn’t been this sensitive when they first started sleeping together. Her body has changed, though, and he’s learned every new lesson he needs to. Those talented fingers roll smooth circles around her nipple, the pink nub becoming erect from the indirect touch. Her lip is caught between her teeth as though she’s trying to stave off her moans that threaten to fall already.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Han,” he says, and she smiles at him.

“Yes, Mr. Han?” His own sly grin is enough to tell her exactly what’s on his mind though the hand against her ass and the other stroking her thigh under water were signs enough.

“I have some rules.”

She grunts in vaguely disguised annoyance mixed with euphoria because of course he has rules for her. It only means that he’s going to be relentless in their lovemaking which she welcomes despite the impending torture. Maddie hums to let him know she’s listening. His lips connect to one of her taut nipples and she has to focus on him, on his words, on his rules or else she’ll never last long.

He releases the nipple when her hand starts to tremble against his arm. Chimney looks her directly in the eyes saying, “I want to hear you. Every moan, every word, everything, Maddie Han. Do you understand me?”

She nods. But that won’t do, and he lets her know it won’t. Her breathing stutters before she can verbalize her understanding, his lips distracting her when he leans down to capture the neglected nipple. There’s no one around for miles, the villa being the perfect excluded vacation, so there’s no pressure to be quiet. There’s no one to complain or to make them feel embarrassed about how passionately loud they can be. There will be no knowing glances from strangers. There’s no need for hushed whimpers and sneaky touches. They are completely uninhibited by anything, and the thought alone gets her heart racing and her thoughts of what she’s going to do with him take a turn for the sexy.

Chimney’s lips release her nipple to find her lips, his hands tracing her curves under the water. Maddie’s never been good at keeping her focus on him when he touches her. Her skin sizzles and tingles and it makes no sense, but she can’t think when his hands are on her like this, sure and confident. Simultaneously, he reaches for her bikini bottoms, and she reaches for his swimming trunks, helping each other out of the offending material that floats far away from them, joining her discarded top. She opens for him easily as he slides a single digit between her folds. She’s so good at stroking him, but he’s better at distracting her. The guttural moan that falls from her lips breaks their kiss. Chinney’s deft fingers stroke between her lips with such agility that her own hand falters against his dick. He’s taking over as he always does, prioritizing her and her pleasure over his own, getting her head to swim like it’s in its own pool of water. He pushes her hand away, pins it back with his free one while her other clutches at his shoulder.

Underwater sex isn’t the greatest, but they’re so lost in one another that it doesn’t matter.

“You love this, don’t you,” he huffs into her ear. She can’t take that, the gruffness of his voice that drips with arousal as he talks her through it. She can’t listen to him because she won’t last long if she does. But that’s his entire purpose and they both know it. Maddie immediately needs more of him, much more. She nods her head, says yes against his cheek as he dips one finger inside of her, then another, enjoying the stretch of her around him. He sets the pace somewhere in the middle, not too slow and not too fast and she’s building just a quickly. The curl of his fingers inside her send sparks to the tips of her toes. There’s no stopping them now that they’ve started, there’s no going back until they are completely and utterly spent and exhausted. Maddie wishes she could give back the same intense feelings he’s giving her, but he’s content with her taking because she’s so beautiful and the sounds she makes are euphoric. He’s content with adding a third finger and curling them deep inside, feeling that rough patch of flesh against his fingertips that drives her absolutely wild. His voice is silky smooth as it reaches her ears, guiding her up and up the rollercoaster of pleasure. He lets her hand go in favor of wrapping his own around her thigh, lifting her leg. The angle of his thrusting fingers changes and that does the trick The new angle sends her over the edge, and she climaxes against his fingers, their bodies pressed as close as they could possibly be.

Her arms cross around his neck, the only thing keeping her standing is him and the bouncing of the water. Chimney is still so strong, the years of being a firefighter-paramedic keeping him in perfect shape though it would be easy to let himself go with a wife and three children. Her legs are around his waist in an instant, his lips attached to the valley of her breasts as he pushes against the tension of the water. He moves up the stairs out of the pool and places her back against the lounge chair. He’s not done yet. Chimney won’t be done with her until she’s incoherent and babbling. In no time, her legs are around his shoulder, his lips connected to her still pulsing center. She tastes of the chlorine and salt and the musk that is unique to Maddie and Maddie only. She is honey in a steaming hot cup of tea, scalding his tongue as he readily drinks every last drop of her.

She’s so beautiful, mouth open in a desperate but silent cry of lust. He wishes he could really see her while he tastes her. “Are you dying for me to touch you?”

“Ch-Ch-Chim,” she stutters out, hips still whining at the constant tugging of his mouth at her clit. Maddie knows he won’t stop until she releases against his tongue. but she longs for him to be inside of her right now. “Please…” is all she can get out as her head fogs with pleasure and her breath puffs out in gasps.

All she receives in turn is the vibrations of his chuckle against her pussy that sends her once again careening to an almost over stimulated point of pleasure. Their lips connect. The taste of her clings to his tongue, the smell of her to his beard and they’re intoxicating in a way that could never be compared to alcohol.

She still wants him two orgasms later though she’s tingly and sensitive. It blows her mind because he knows it too. Two orgasms and she’s ready for him to fill her and draw out a deeper sensation. Against her cheek she hears him ask, “You want me to fuck you?”

He has to ask it again because she’s somewhere else, somewhere that has her lightheaded and dizzy. He gets his answer when she whimpers, “Yes…”

He drags his dick along her slit and she’s so incredibly wet he can’t help but groan out “oh fuck.” Maddie’s laugh is weak. She absolutely loves the affect they have on each other. How they can bring each other pleasure with the simplest of touches and how it intensifies the longer they’re together. He teases up and down and up and down until he knows she can handle him fully. It takes a few minutes of soft grinding and whispered nothings, but eventually she nods that she’s ready for all of him.

His cock is pushed between her legs in one solid thrust that forces her to sharply inhale, her nails digging into his biceps. The stretch is just as delicious as it was years ago. He fills her perfectly, fully. She writhes and squirms, matching his movements stroke for stroke, and the pleasure is overwhelming. Every inch of him is inside of her and he’s not going to last long. She isn’t either. If she were on earth and not miles and miles away in her own pleasure, she’d tease him about the way he tries to focus on something other than her velvety walls. She’s so wet, so smooth, she drips around him.

“You’re desperate. So desperate.” She hears him say. And all she can respond with is gasps of air and meek little yeahs. He’s not going to get more than that, he knows, but he keeps going. “You like that don’t you? You like how good I fuck you.”

Her teeth sink into his shoulder, her nails carving long, scarlet welts in his back, and the sound she lets out is so guttural, so primal, he thinks he’s lost her to her pleasure. He knows her body so well. He hits all the right spots, his hips rolling in perfectly timed rhythm. Every thrust, every kiss to her neck, and she’s being brought closer and closer to the most intense release yet. Chimney is losing control right along with her. She doesn’t have to hold back; he doesn’t have to either. He groans between gritted teeth, accompanying the slap of their bodies against each other creating some type of sensual symphony. Those rough, calloused fingers pulse against her clit, the pleasure relentless.

“I’m gonna make you cum so hard, baby. Are you ready?” He knows she is, can tell by the way her walls squeeze and pulse around him. She can still manage her repetitive yeahs and they’re so needy, she’s so ready. Both of their bodies grow taut and suddenly everything is silent as their pleasure snaps and they climax together, their lips open in unison but no sound coming out as he spills inside of her.

He stays buried deep within her; his kisses still being placed to any portion of skin his lips can meet. Chimney knows she loves to feel the weight of him in these afterglow moments, the closeness, the intimacy. They lay together for a beat, simply breathing each other in and catching their breath. Eventually they’ll move, part from each other, and go back inside, but they’ll never grow tired of each other. Not after one year, not after one hundred years.

[leafs-lover]

Because Two People Got Drunk: 29

Series Masterlist

Chapter 29

A/N: I am not a doctor and have no medical training (besides 13 seasons of Greys). Italics represent a flashback and some of your thoughts. This chapter is written from Fred’s POV. 

Summary: The high you’re feeling from winning the second round comes to an abrupt end.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, mentions of car accident

Word Count: 7600

Fred’s POV

“Good game tonight Fred” Kyle the NBC sportscaster says. You run your hands through your hair damp with sweat having just gotten off the bike.

“Thanks, yeah the boys really came together and played a full 60 minutes and we pulled out the W” you answer. You grab your towel and wipe the sweat from your forehead “the boys did a good job at limiting their chances and keeping them away from the slot, kept my job pretty easy” you chuckle slightly.

“Yeah it was a good effort all around. You looking forward to a couple days off before the conference finals?” he asks you. The other matchup being Toronto and Tampa is tied after 4 games, they play game 5 tomorrow night, but the series will need at least 6 games to be decided.

“Yeah it will be good for us to have a few days without games. Be able to allow some of the boys to rest, I know some of them got a little banged up this series” you explain shifting around on your feet, hoping to wrap this up to jump in the shower to get home to (Y/N). Tonight is the first day she has been willing to talk and you don’t want to miss any time with her. You bring your water bottle up to your lips taking a sip of Gatorade while the interview continues.

“What did you think of the power play? Sidney alluded to some issues and needing some work if you want to be successful in the conference finals.”

“Yeah well I think you guys have mentioned it a lot in interviews and post game coverage. We know there is some work needed in that aspect of the game. So we can use the next few days to refocus and figure out how to generate some momentum from that. Both Toronto and Tampa have a very good P.K. so we need to have success on our power play to advance to the finals.”

“Well thank you and good luck Freddie” Kyle says.

“Thank you” you respond smiling.

Him and the other sportscasters turn their attention to the coach and you finally head into the showers. You look at the clock and see it’s about 45 minutes after the game. Wanting to get home quickly you decide to have a quick shower at the rink, and have a full one later. You can’t wait to cuddle up beside (Y/N) for the first time in weeks, feel your boys kick while you breathe in her fruity conditioner. While you know there is some difficult conversations still to be had, you just want to wrap yourself around her for a few hours first.

After a quick shower you throw your game day suit back on. It’s your navy three piece suit with a light grey vest, it’s (Y/N)’s favourite and you like to think it brought you good luck tonight. You leave the top button of your white dress shirt undone, reaching  for your tie.

A few hours ago you were in the bathroom finishing getting ready when Oliver came running in with a present for you. It was something he and (Y/N) saw online and ordered a couple weeks ago and it just came in. He had the biggest smile on his face, carrying the box with a simple grey bow.

(Y/N) was leaning on the doorway watching the exchange with a small grin on her face, you could see it reflecting back to you on the mirror. Her hair was in gentle waves, no makeup on her face. She had on a pair of track pants with a black tee that was a little too small, the bottom of her bump exposed. All you wanted was to kiss her, but you didn’t want to push her limits; even if she did give you a soft kiss a few hours ago.

You opened the box and revealed a black silk tie with Toy Story characters in various poses stitched into it.

“It’s lightyear and woody!” your son cheers smiling and you chuckle lightly, this being one of his favourite movies.

“Wow, thanks Ollie this is great” you say running your fingers on the fabric.

“I was actually looking at ties for him for the wedding this summer, when he saw this one and he loved it. I asked if he wanted it, and he said daddy would” (Y/N) explains walking over to the vanity resting against the counter a few inches from you.

“Well you’re right” you say smiling at Oliver “I love it buddy!”

“Wear it daddy” Oliver exclaims.

“You think I should wear it to the game tonight?” you ask him.

He nods his head with a  huge smile “yeah!” you can feel the excitement radiating off of him.

You look at (Y/N) who raises an eyebrow at you with a light chuckle. You don’t exactly have a reputation for wild or colourful suits, leaving that style to the younger boys. You set the box down and turn back to the mirror, you begin to loosen the navy blue one you normally pair this look with. (Y/N) walks forward a few steps and picks up the tie, removing it from the packaging and putting the fabric around your neck.

She begins to effortlessly tie your tie for you, she smiles at you her face a few inches from yours. You smell her conditioner, and don’t break eye contact with her while she tucks the tie in your vest. You see the faint freckles on her nose, the pinkness to her cheeks and take a gulp having missed her touch more than you even noticed. She has a slight smile on her face while she adjusts your collar and smooths the fabric making it straight and stepping back “what do you think Ollie?”

“It’s perfect” he exclaims jumping into your  arms. “Good luck daddy” he says wrapping his arms around your neck. You holds his tiny body against your chest, his legs dangling while you kiss his cheek.

“Thanks bud, I’m going to have so many saves because of my new tie” you say setting him down. He brings a hand up, giving you your pre-game fist bump before leaving the bathroom.

You turn your attention to (Y/N) who steps in front of you, she places her arms on your biceps and leans in close to your ear. Goosebumps build feeling her breath on your neck “good luck Fred” she whispers and you shiver, feeling her words sending a tingle to your spine.

She pulls her face back, now looking up into your eyes, without thinking you bring your lips down to hers and your hands down to her hips. She steps into your embrace, wrapping her arms around your neck opening her mouth to allow you entrance. Her hands tangle into your hair, and you are tempted to slide your hands down to give her ass a light squeeze but you don’t want to push your luck. You settle with your hands resting on the small of her back.

Your tongues fight for dominance, a soft moan slipping from her lips has you almost gets you hard. She finally pulls back smiling while you take a gasp of air. She places another soft kiss on your lips before stepping back to the counter with a smirk.

“Thanks (Y/N)” you say wiping the side of your mouth.

“Talk to you later tonight” she says while you lean in to place a kiss on her cheek. She grips your arms and pulls away “you’re going to be late” she says softly causing you to groan before turning around and heading out for the game.

You smile running the smooth fabric through your fingers remembering the exchange from earlier that day. You loosely wrap it around your neck, not bothering to tuck it into the vest. You know there are some extremely difficult conversations to come tonight and over the next few days, but you are extremely grateful (Y/N) is willing to talk. Her showing up at the game shows how lucky you are to have this amazing woman. She could have just asked Kathy or Christina to bring him, but her coming gives you hope for how the next few days will go.

After gathering your belongings from your stall you open the dressing room door with your cell phone in your hand. Assuming (Y/N) left after the game you unlock your phone expecting to see a “congrats” text from her, but your screen display is empty.

“Daddy” you hear a voice identical to Oliver’s call out. You look up, gazing the room for the child and see your son in his Andersen jersey and red curls running towards you.

“Hey Oliver” you say bending down to hug him. His arms wrap around your neck while you stand up holding him against you. “What are you doing here?” you ask scanning the area for (Y/N) surprised she would wait with how she has been feeling.

“You were so good daddy!” he squeals ignoring you. “Maybe you will play Uncle Auston and Uncle Mitch!”

You laugh lightly making your way through the crowded hallway, you begin to head to the lounge assuming she found a comfortable spot to wait for you.

“Hey Fred” you hear a voice call from beside you, you turn to your left to see Kathy. “(Y/N) wasn’t feeling the best so she left after the first period.” She pulls out a set of car keys and hands them to you.

“She took the car home? She must have been super uncomfortable to get in that thing” you laugh. “Thanks, how was this guy?” you ask shifting him on your hip. You look at your son and see his eyes getting heavy causing a light smile to cross your face. Oliver rests his head on your shoulder as Kathy responds “he was great. He was very into the game, his eyes were glued to the ice the entire time. He also ate a lot of popcorn”  she further explains. You laugh lightly at that and kiss his forehead “but he was great. Never stopped smiling”

“That’s awesome, thanks again Kathy. He has been laying the guilt on (Y/N) for not going to games, I’m sure he was thrilled to get to stay.” You wrap your free arm around her giving her a side hug “well I’m happy to bring him with me anytime.”

“You say thank you to Kathy for keeping an eye on your tonight?” you ask Oliver.

“Thank you Kathy” your soon coos on your shoulder.

“Anytime Ollie” she smiles “have a good night Fred” she says smiling and turning down the hall to find Sid. You head to the car Oliver resting his head on your shoulder, you hear his soft breathing thinking he has fallen asleep against you. You buckle Oliver into his car seat and pull away looking at him, you see his brown eyes are open, very heavy but open.

“Hey bud” you say wiping his hair from his face “you tired?” you ask him. He still has a big smile glued to his face, even if his eyes are struggling to stay open.

“No daddy” he mumbles shaking his head. You place a quick kiss on his cheek and get into the driver’s seat, you adjust all the settings and get comfortable. You start the short drive home, knowing traffic will be light at this late hour.

“You have fun tonight?” you ask Oliver driving down the street slowly, avoiding the fans who are celebrating on the street. You see brake lights ahead, which is unusual for this time of day, but sigh slowing the car.

“Yeah daddy, so much fun!” he cheers from the back seat as you stop. You look in the review mirror and see him looking out the window at the surroundings.

“Well make sure you thank mommy for taking you” you say smiling.

“I will daddy” he says, you see him smile before you turn your attention back to the road. There is 3 streetlights before you get on the onramp, and the lights ahead of you have switched from red to green a few times, yet you haven’t moved. You want to turn the radio on for an update on traffic, but you also don’t want it to keep Oliver awake. You shift slightly in your seat as you pull up a few car lengths, approaching the first intersection.

“Daddy why aren’t we moving?” you hear him mumble from the backseat.

You look into the review, and his eyes are barely awake while his head nods on and off. You chuckle and decide to not answer, knowing he is seconds away from passing out. You tap your finger on the steering wheel and begin to advance closer to the first light.

You see a police officer in the middle of the intersection directing cars to turn at the intersection, likely because of an accident; a bad one if they are diverting traffic away from the area. You groan, knowing your quick drive will be longer but follow the flow of traffic around the corner.

About 15 minutes later you are finally back on track, merging onto the freeway. You scan the review mirror and see Oliver fast asleep, his head leaning back and mouth wide open. The only good thing about the delay getting home is that Oliver will be fast asleep when you get home, and there is no chance of you waking him up putting him in bed.

The rest of your drive is smooth and you finally pull up and open your gate. While making your way slowly up your driveway, you take in the scenery that is illuminated by the full moon while the garage gradually opens. When it finally opens you notice the BMW isn’t parked in there. You stop and look around the driveway trying to see if (Y/N) parked outside and you didn’t notice it but don’t see anything.

You put the SUV in park you check your phone and don’t see any missed calls or texts from (Y/N).

F: Hey babe, just got home and you’re not here. You okay?

You carefully scoop Oliver up from his car seat, resting his head on your shoulder making your way to his room. I’m sure she just went to her grandparents, it’s closer to the arena you think setting Oliver down on his bed. You gently strip the jersey off, and pull his shoes off his feet; you decide to leave him in his pants and t-shirt he was wearing underneath in order to not wake him.

“Goodnight Ollie” you whisper placing a kiss on his forehead gently pulling his Penguins comforter up to his chin tucking him in. “Love you” you say pulling the door, but leaving it open a crack to allow in a little light from the hall.

You pull your phone out and see no new notifications, you click back on your conversation and the message hasn’t been delivered yet. You scowl lightly knowing every car has a charger in it, so her phone isn’t dead. You walk down the hall to the bedroom, sitting on the bed wrinkling the duvet slightly pulling your tie off your neck and tossing it beside you.

F: If you’re still mad at me babe I understand. If you regret earlier or aren’t ready to forgive me I get it.

You sigh hoping that isn’t the case, if she did regret kissing me would she have come to the game? You stare at the conversation seeing the second message still hasn’t delivered. You lock the phone and stand up tearing the rest of your suit off. Normally you would carefully place them on the hanger and back in the closet, but tonight you just throw them onto your crinkled sheets.

You know they will wrinkle, just as the duvet under them but you don’t care. You know you should hang it up, put it away so it isn’t strewn across the bed when (Y/N) gets home but with every second (Y/N) doesn’t pull into the driveway or answer her phone you start to think she won’t come home. You run your hands through your hair, letting out an exasperated sigh you walk to the shower turning it on. You lean against the counter and unlock your phone once more, calling her this time. After one ring you hear:

“Hey you’ve reached (Y/N) sorry I missed you” you mumble a fuck under your breath and hang up not bothering to listen to the remainder of her voicemail. You scroll through your contacts and hit the call button, after a few rings you hear Debbie, (Y/N)’s grandmother, answer the phone.

“Hello” she mumbles into the phone barely awake.

“Hi Debbie, I’m sorry to call so late” you say into the phone while she clears her throat. You hear a bit of a commotion on the other end of the phone, and can hear John mumbling about someone calling at this hour.

“It’s Frederik dear” she says away from the mouth piece, you can hear John muttering in the background. “Is everything okay?” she asks turning her attention to you.

“Is (Y/N) there?” you ask.

“John, is (Y/N) here?” she asks him. “He’s gone to check, what’s going on?”

“(Y/N) came to my game but left after the first period, but she isn’t home. I thought maybe she decided to crash at your place instead of doing the drive home” you explain.

“I see” she says and silence falls over the line. “John says she isn’t here” she says and you feel your heart drop as panic sets in. You take a gulp and run your hands through your hair, leaning backwards feeling your back hit the mirror.

“Okay thanks” you manage to croak.

“I’m sure she is fine dear” she tried to reassure you, but you don’t think she even believes it knowing this in unusual for (Y/N). And you have a pit in the bottom of your stomach that says otherwise.

“Yeah…thanks. I’ll let you know when I hear from her” you explain hanging up the phone. You walk over to the shower and feel the steam hit your face, you reach in and turn it off trying to think who else might know where she is, who you could call. It’s unlikely she called her friends from home about where she went, and the women all saw her leave after the first period. If Kathy knew something she would have told me after the game. And if she hadn’t heard from her by the end of the game none of the other women would have. And no matter what she would have called me, even when she wouldn’t talk to me she was delayed at her hair appointment and still text me so I wouldn’t worry. No matter how she is feeling towards me she wouldn’t just take off.

You slowly walk into the closet and pull out a pair of track pants and a t-shirt from your drawer. You pull them on and unlock your phone once again.

F: I just want to make sure you’re okay. Please answer me

F: I love you xox

As you hit the send button you sigh again seeing your messages still aren’t being delivered. You are pulled from your trance by your main gate buzzer going off. You run to the speaker in the bedroom and press the button.

“Hello (Y/N/N)” you practically yell into the speaker, not even realizing that she wouldn’t need to be buzzed in.

“No sorry, this is Officer Black from Pittsburgh P.D. Is this the address of (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)?” the unfamiliar voice asks back. You take a few deep breaths, releasing the buzzer and hitting the open button. Your heart rate begins to pick up, the pit in your stomach grows while you almost fall down the stairs running to the front door.

Your hands shake as you reach out for the door handle. You see the police cruiser parked through the frosted glass, and two figures approach the door. You grip the handle, maybe that second figure is (Y/N) you think. Disappointment and fear fill your body when you open the door to see two officers approaching you, no sign of (Y/N).

“Hi I’m Fred, I’m (Y/N)’s boyfriend” you say as they approach the door. “Where is she, is she okay?”

“I’m Officer Black, this is Officer Taylor. Can we come in?” one officer asks.

“Where is she?” you ask feeling your voice crack.

“She is in the hospital but is okay” the second officer says to you “she was in a car accident at Logan and Wylie.”

That was the accident I was diverted around on my way home. You go numb while the officers wait for you to respond. You take a gulp and brace yourself against the door frame, your heart beats out of your chest.

“Maybe you should sit down” one of them says gently guiding you into the office. You lean against the arm of one of the red chairs (Y/N) bought. While this room is rarely used, you still notice the details she put into it. There is a large canvas pictures of the 3 of you above the fireplace, and pictures of your families framed on the desk. She spent hours finding the pillows for the window bench that matched the chairs perfectly. The bookshelves are filled with all the books from her childhood that were previously in storage, multiple candles are scattered around the room.

All these minor details that she spent hours planning, make this house a home. Normally you would feel close to (Y/N), sense her in the space but in this moment you have never felt further from her. Tears are building in your eyes, you look at the officers through blurred eyes “you said she’s at a hospital?” you whisper.

“UPMC Presbyterian” they respond.

“The babies? She is pregnant” you say wiping the side of your eyes sitting upright.

“We don’t have any more of an update just that she is in critical condition and they are working on her” he says to you. “Do you need a ride there?”

“No I can get myself there, just have to get my son” you whisper lightly and stand up. The officers leave your house while you head upstairs pulling out your phone to call Debbie back. You tell her about the accident and she says John will meet you at the hospital and take Oliver back to their house. You hang up and open the door to his room, the light slowly approaching the bed.

You see your son lying on his stomach, blue tucked tightly under his arm. You freeze in your tracks seeing your son, your first son with (Y/N) and immediately break down praying everyone is okay. You fall to your feet and sob thinking of the worst case scenario, losing (Y/N) and the twins, having to raise Oliver alone without a mother.

No I can’t think that way, she will be fine. I just have to get to the hospital. (Y/N) is fine, she is fine. Y/N is fine.

You keep repeating that to yourself, trying to make yourself believe it. Finally after a few deep breaths you find the strength to stand up wiping the tears from your eyes. You shake your head and spot the bag (Y/N) packed beside his door.

You planned on Oliver going to John and Debbie’s when she went into labour. Since Dr. Morris put her on steroids she packed two bags weeks ago. One bag full of items for the two of you and the twins and the second is Oliver’s bag to take to their house with some clothes and books; knowing they have lots of toys there. You walk over to Oliver and sit on his bed, pulling his body against your chest. You kiss his head, your hands stroking through his hair. You need to get to the hospital, you need to check on (Y/N) and the twins, but in this moment you need this.

You gently rock him side to side, his small body resting in your arms causes you to relax slightly. You hear him mumble and stir slightly in his sleep as you gently set him back down. You walk over to his duffle bag and throw it over your shoulder and carefully grab him and blue.

The drive to the hospital is a blur, you are almost sure you shouldn’t be driving in your state. You park in the parking lot staring down the building; the building that can change your future. You didn’t expect to be here for a few more weeks, not until the day (Y/N) gave birth.

You get out and walk to the backseat of your car, unbuckling Oliver and grabbing his bag, when you realize John won’t have a car seat. You gently set Oliver down on the spare seat reaching over him to remove the car seat. You feel a hand touch your back and you jump up, hitting your head on the ceiling of your car.

“Fuck” you mumble under your breath, rubbing your hat over your scalp while stepping out of the vehicle. You see John and practically fall into his arms, letting out a sob while he wraps himself around you.

”Sorry” he whispers. You aren’t sure if he means for scaring you or about the current situation. Your body shakes while he holds you against him for a few minutes. You are brought back when you hear him calling your name.

You pull away and see his bloodshot eyes, glossed over with tears. “Hey John, how are you doing?” you ask him wiping your tears away.

“Alright, been better. Same as you I’m sure” he says looking behind you to the building. You only nod in response, realizing the last time he was rushing to a hospital in the middle of the night was when his son and daughter-in-law died.

“Did the police give you any information?” he asks turning his gaze back to yours.

“No they didn’t have any at the house and I just parked a minute ago” you explain.

“You should get inside” John whispers trying for his voice to not crack “I can get the car seat Fred.”

You nod and hug him once more “I’ll keep you updated” you say. You pull away and place a kiss on Oliver’s cheek before running into the hospital’s emergency room.

“Hey” you say running up the admittance nurse “hello I’m Frederik –“

“Hi Frederik, you need to sit down there are people ahead of you waiting to see me” the nurse tells you looking down at the computer in front of him. You look behind you and see 3 people sitting on chairs and turn back to the nurse “you don’t understand I’m not here for a doctor. My girlfriend was in an accident and brought here, I don’t know where she is” you spew out at the nurse.

The man stops typing and looks up you “what’s her name?” he asks.

“(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)” you say to the nurse who enters the info into the system.

“Follow the blue line to the elevator, take that to the 3rd floor, follow the blue line to room 307 she is in there” he says to you.

“Thank you” you say tapping your hand on the desk and taking off down the hall. Once in the elevator you look at the index for the floors, surgery is 7th, labour and delivery in on the 5th so that has to be good she isn’t in either. Floor 3 has trauma rooms, the ICU and imagery .

The door dings to the 3rd floor and you sprint down the hall ignoring the calls from staff to stop running. When you find 307 you practically throw the door open, it crashes into the wall causing some of the staff to turn their attention towards you.

“Sir you can’t be in here” you hear a nurse say to you, but you ignore her and walk in. You hear the scattered beeping of machines, when you see one of her hands limply hanging off the bed. You bring a hand up to your mouth gasping at what you see.

You see the bracelet wrapped around her wrist; the bracelet you bought her in the beginning of the season. It was during your first long road trip. Oliver was giving her a hard time, he was struggling with you being gone and there was nothing you could do to help besides leaving and going back to Pittsburgh, which wasn’t an option.

While walking through the warm streets of L.A, you passed by a jewelry store and it immediately caught your eye in the window. You thought of her and walked inside and bought it without even looking at anything else. Through everything she never took it off. The once beautiful white gold bracelet, is now stained red with her blood.

She has monitors hooked up all over her, you can see her hair is wet with blood, blood stains her clothes that have been cut off her and are lying on the floor. The jacket she finally wore to a playoff game, the black denim jacket with your name embroidered in the back, the jacket she was so excited to get when you clinched is in pieces never to be worn again. You can see that a pool of blood has collected between her legs as you sniffle stepping forward to her. She looks cold, a shell of the woman she once was as you see the ultrasound machine being set up.

You feel a hand grip your arm firmer than before “sir you can’t be in here” you hear a voice say and you try to brush it off, trying to get closer to (Y/N).

“She’s my...that’s my” you struggle to form words looking over her body, you watch as someone squeezes some jelly onto her stomach “those are my babies. Are my babies okay?” your hands run through your hair watching the scene unfold around you.

“Yes, we have the fetal heartbeats on that monitor there” they say nodding to one of the machines “a little erratic but right now holding steady. She has some abdominal bleeding we are monitoring right now” the person with the wand says to you as the woman beside you attempts to guide you into the hall.

“You have to leave sir” she says more firmly.

“Please” you croak out “I need to know” you say and the doctor sighs and nods to the nurse beside you. He places the wand over her stomach adjusting it to find the babies, you swallow even though your throat is dry. The heartbeat fills the room and you see one of the babies faces on the screen causing you to chuckle and wipe your eyes. You are so relieved hearing the heartbeat of one of your sons. The doctor moves the wand some more finding the second baby and you just stare at the monitor, hearing their tiny hearts beating gives you back some hope and optimism.

“Sir we’re going to take care of your wife, that’s our job” you hear someone say to you. “But you have to let us do our job, so please let us do our job.”

“Okay” you whisper and nod while two nurses help guide you out of the room and shut the door behind you. You step off to the side and slide down the wall, ignoring the nearby seats. You land on your ass, bending your knees. Your rest your elbows on your knees and your head falls into your hands. You take a deep breath, you didn’t realize how much you had been holding in trying to process everything. You have been taking advantage of her always being there and now she might not be anymore.

You don’t know how long you sit on the floor for, could be minutes could be hours when the door opens and a bunch of the staff leave. You don’t think you can move from this spot yet somehow rise to your feet, when the last nurse stops in front of you.

“She’s doing okay for now, the doctors are ready to talk to you when you’re ready” she gently squeezes your arm and walks away carrying some of the supplies.

You take a deep breath and walk into the room even though your feet feel anchored to the ground. “Hi I’m Fred” you say walking in to the room.

“Hi I’m Dr. Lang a pediatric surgeon and this is Dr. Cooper a trauma surgeon”

“How is she?”

“Your wife is stable, but she has a cracked ribs and some internal bleeding. She sustained a pretty serious gash to her head, but we don’t see any bleeding or swelling in her brain, likely has a concussion. She sprained her left wrist but otherwise just bumps and bruises” the female doctor explains to you.

“Your babies are holding steady, it’s been a little touch and go but they are both stable right now” you hear the other doctor explain. “She had some uterine bleeding caused during the accident which appears to have stopped on its own for now but we will keep monitoring it.”

“You said she has internal bleeding?”

“We are monitoring the internal bleeding, if it corrects itself then the babies can stay in, hopefully for a few more weeks” Dr. Cooper explains. “But if it doesn’t stop she’ll need surgery.”

“And the babies? What then?” you ask.

“We would likely have to do an emergency C-section at that point. We got the file from her OB and they have given her prenatal steroids, with that and their weights we are optimistic they would be okay with an early delivery. We also have her on some more drugs to try and encourage their growth, any time we can get is important.”

The doctors talk to you for a little while longer before leaving you alone in the room with (Y/N). Her body looks so small lying in the room, you feel a ball catch in your throat while you pull a chair up beside her bed, gripping her frail cold hand.

“Oh my god (Y/N)” you whisper “I can’t believe this happened to you.”

You bring her hand to your lips, kissing it around the tape holding the IV in place. You hold her hand to your lips, tears fill your eyes as you sit there listening to the beeping. You can barely look at her, the once vibrant woman full of life, now unconscious machines connected, lines everywhere.

After sending some update messages to her grandparents  you adjust in the chair. You try to get comfortable knowing you are in for a long night, you close your eyes attempting to sleep. Between the nurses checking on her, the beeping and the uncomfortable chair you are barely able to sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time.

Around 7am you feel (Y/N)’s hand twitch and the monitors begin beeping erratically. You squeeze her hand calling out for her as she squirms in the bed.

“(Y/N)” you call out as nurses flood the room pushing you out of the way. The two doctor’s rush in the room, as your chest tightens. “No please” you cry out feeling your eyes glaze with tears “(Y/N).  The nurses continue to try to usher you out of the room while you keep calling her name. The door is slammed in your face and you can hear scattered conversations and rushed actions from inside the room.  

You pace in the hallway, adjusting your hat. What is going on in there?

You pace around finally sitting in the chair in the hallway you can hear the controlled chaos from inside the room; all you want is to open the door and see (Y/N). You hear your phone ring, you shake the tears from your eyes and see Debbie’s name on the screen. You bring the phone to your ear “hey Debbie” you say choking on your tears.

“How is Oliver doing?” you ask after a couple minutes of updating her on (Y/N)’s status.

“He is okay, just finished breakfast. He was a little confused why he woke up here and where you guys were. He wanted to talk to you” she says. You know that you need more than just his voice, so you switch the call to FaceTime.

“Hi daddy” he says, his face lights up seeing you.

“Hey buddy” you chuckle wiping your eye, his face helping to repair your heart.

“Where are you?” he asks getting really close to the screen and you can only see his mouth; Facetime and cameras not being his strong suit. Both you and (Y/N) have countless “selfies” he has taken of himself which is just a close up of his eyes and nose.

You sigh for a second and take a deep breath, adjusting your hat on your head “I’m uh…I’m at the hospital with mommy. Mommy got hurt but the doctors are taking good care of her” you explain to him.

“Mommy got hurt?” he asks, you can hear his voice break a little bit.

“Yeah but she is okay buddy” you say into the phone. You want to reassure him but you don’t know how much of it you believe right now.

“Can I see her?” he asks pulling back and you can see more of his face on the screen.

“Not right now” you say and you see his face fall a bit “she is sleeping. But she would love it if you drew her some pictures.”

“Okay daddy” he says and the door opens while the staff begins to exit the room.

“I got to go see mommy, I love you” you say wiping the few remaining tears from your eyes.

“Love you daddy” your son says before you disconnect the call.

You walk into the room and see Dr. Cooper checking some of the monitors. “She is okay, her blood pressure is rising and she is still bleeding but okay for now. The babies are becoming too stressed, if their heart rates don’t drop we’ll have to deliver them. We’ve been giving them medication since she was admitted to try and lower them but so far it’s not working. Some studies say hearing the dad’s voice can help” she says shooting you a soft smile and walking out of the room.

You walk back to the chair and sit down gripping her hand, and your other slides to her stomach. You lightly place it on her belly, around the monitors.

“Hey boys” you whisper stroking them slightly. “I know you want to come out, but it would be better if you didn’t. I need you to stay put inside your mommy a little while longer. God I can’t believe we’re here right now, never thought this would happen” you feel tears begin to fall and release her hand to wipe them away.

“You know (Y/N) people keep calling you my wife” you chuckle shifting to look at her. A big bandage is in her hair, her face is partially swollen, lower lip cracked, but the woman you love is there, underneath all that. You rub your hand over her stomach, a strangled chuckle leaving your throat “and god I don’t know why you’re not. I said I wanted to wait and you said you were fine with having more kids first, but that just seems ridiculous now. Why would I wait when I have the most amazing woman in my life. You should be my wife, but god I don’t deserve you. You are way too good to me, and if the past few weeks have shown anything it’s that I need to be better. I need to be better for you, for Ollie, for these two” tears are streaming down your cheeks, eyes completely blurred while your hand rubs (Y/N)’s stomach gently. “Make it through this and I will spend every day trying to be the man you deserve.”

You stand up and press your lips to her forehead “please be okay (Y/N), please be okay so I can make you my wife and get you that puppy you haven’t stopped talking about. I’ll get you 5 dogs if it means you’ll be okay.” You feel one of the babies kick causing you to laugh through your tears “he seems excited for 5 dogs.”

A few hours later you are on a conference call with the coach and GM, you sent them a text explaining your absence from practice. There is up to a week before the conference finals begin, but they are preparing for Jarry to start those, you can’t see yourself being back for that. You look out the window, watching the rain stream down the glass, lightning illuminates the sky. Normally the sun would be preparing to set over the city, but a large storm rolled through making your worst day even more miserable.

You hold a cup of crappy hospital coffee in your hand while they prepare the press release on your absence. In this moment though you don’t care about the quality of coffee, any source of caffeine is appreciated. The hospital brought you a cot to sleep on, but you couldn’t leave her side, opting to hunch awkwardly in the chair and you can’t see yourself  sleeping in the cot tonight.

Apart from sleep deprivation your back and neck are sore, but that pain is nothing compared to the emotional roller coaster you have been going through. There was multiple instances where (Y/N)’s blood pressure or the babies would get erratic and you have been ushered out of the room. The doctors say she still has some internal bleeding which is causing the babies levels to increase, which causes (Y/N)’s to rise. They don’t think it can continue like this for much longer before they have to deliver the babies and address the bleeding.

The team says you can come out with the goalie coach for private sessions any time if you’re feeling up to it. But you can barely handle leaving (Y/N) to get a coffee, let alone a few hours to get out on the ice; and in this moment you have no desire to play. The one constant in your life, the thing that has calmed you, always been there for you and now you can’t imagine ever doing it again.

“I got to go” you say quickly hanging up the phone and rushing across the room. (Y/N) eyes flutter open and her heart rate monitor begins to beep faster as she gasps for air.

“Hey (Y/N)” you say so excited to finally see her eyes open again. You grip her hand and run your other up her arm. Her eyes struggle to stay open while you squeeze her hand “you’re okay skat” you say softly trying to reassure her.

Her heart is racing while she squirms in the bed “Fred” she mumbles opening her eyes again. Tears pour down your face, you didn’t think you would hear her beautiful voice again.

“(Y/N) you need to lie down, you can’t move” you hear a nurse say walking into the room as the beeping continues to increase, (Y/N) gasping for air. The nurse presses a button and you hear feet running into the floor while you are pushed out of the way, body going numb while you watch them inject something into her arm.

She begins to relax her body and falls back into the mattress, eyes closing in the process. You didn’t even notice she was bleeding until a nurse lifts the blanket and reveals a small pool between her legs. “Oh my god” you whisper as Dr. Lang comes running past you.

You watch the scene unfold, stumbling backward into the wall. You put an arm on it, bracing yourself trying to catch your breath. The voices and sounds are barely audible, all you can hear is the hustle and eagerness of the staff. You watch them pull her arm railings up and begin to wheel her out of the room.

You feel a hand touch your arm, and you turn your head to the left and see Dr. Lang. He is talking to you, but you can’t focus on the words having watched your entire world leave. You feel as though you are outside your body, watching everything unfold around you.

“Fred” he calls touching your arm again, his touch returns you to the surface.

You blink through your tears and wipe them away. “Fred did you hear me?” he asks as your eyes focus on his face.

“What?” you whisper, bringing the back of your palm up to wipe away the tears.

“The bleeding isn’t correcting itself, (Y/N) needs surgery now. I’m going to do an emergency C-section and then we’ll take them to the NICU to monitor them. After the C-Section Dr. Cooper and Dr. Muzek a general surgeon will operate on (Y/N). We need you to consent to the surgeries” he explains pushing a clipboard in front of you.

“Yeah of course” you say grabbing it and signing the form.

“She is in good hands, we’ll keep you updated on the progress” he says giving your arm a light squeeze before taking off down the hall toward the elevator.

Next Chapter

[badjoices]

My Life With You

IV. So There's This Guy... Dean's been spotted around town and made quite the impression on the local singles. (All chapers can be read stand-alone)

Read on AO3 | Fic Masterpost

The sun was long past the horizon, the high street illuminated by the yellow-amber glow of the street-lights and the dim coloured lights spilling out from the bars. The spring air was cool and still, the whoops and hollers of the rowdy Friday night crowds echoed through the centre of town.

In one of the bars that lined the street, a group of early-thirties women gathered together to toast to another week of work behind them. Pushing past their exhaustion was their relief, their ecstatic joy at being free at last, even if only for two days. The ladies sat around a high circular table covered in a rainbow of different fruity cocktails, curly straws, and paper umbrellas. Already the table was littered with empty glasses of drinks long since backed.

“So…” began one woman, Rachel, pushing her long blonde hair behind her shoulder. “I saw the hottest guy at the playground the other day.”

Tia, a tattooed, bespectacled brunette, leaned in eagerly. “Oh?”

Rachel gave a knowing look to her friend before she began her story…

“It was on Wednesday, on my day off. I took Ethan out to the playground near my house, and it was all normal; the usual moms and nannies,

“Anyway, then I spot this guy helping his little kid, the cutest kid by the way, on the slide. There are a few dads around sometimes, you know, but this guy- when I tell you he was cute, it’s an understatement,

“He was so good with his kid too. The way he smiled at that kid, it was like he felt just so lucky to have him. Every five seconds he was squeezing him, or ruffling his hair, or kissing him on his little forehead.

“I just thought, I bet he’d make such an amazing step-dad, maybe I should get on that. A guy like that’s definitely not single I bet. I don’t know if he’s married, I couldn’t see a wedding ring from where I was sitting, but I was pretty far away.”

“So you didn’t speak to him?” a third woman, Sara, with hair in a neat puff and arms wrapped tight in a thick cardigan, asked, straw perched just below her lip poised to take another sip.

“No, I just watched him from afar.” Rachel sighed dreamily, recounting the man’s devilish smile and angled jaw in her mind.

“Why not?” Tia pushed, playfully slapping her friends arm. “You need to get back out there since Mike.” she spits the name and follows up with a gagging gesture.

“I know, I know.” Rachel shrugs, shrinking somewhat from her earlier excitement. “I’m still working up to it, but if I see him again I swear I will.”

The fourth woman, Yulia, took a big sip of her mojito, almost like a deep inhale, then added. “I have a cute guy story too.”

Tia perked up immediately and starting bouncing in her seat. “Okay, okay, spill.”

“So,” Yulia began, fiddling with her tall glass and nervously shuffling in her seat. “He’s been coming into the café every morning to get coffee,

“He’s tall- actually not that tall, maybe six foot? But still - tall. Anyway, he came in on Thursday morning and he actually made conversation with me. When he got up to the counter he gestured up to the menu and was like ‘I don’t know what half these things mean’. And I just laughed really nervously; it was so embarrassing. His smile was so pretty, you guys, I just melted. Then he said ‘Cas is the one who knows about all this stuff, I can’t keep up, you know, coffee is coffee.’

“I think Cas is his wife or something ‘cause then I clocked he had a wedding ring on. Shame. Anyway I just said ‘yeah’ really awkwardly in a sort of half swoon; I couldn’t come up with anything to say. Then he goes on to order the most complicated drink with like, three different flavour shots in it. He says ‘it’s not for me’ like he’s so embarrassed about it, it was so cute. I was like ‘no judgement, you can order whatever you like’. I really didn’t mean to sound so thirsty.

“Then he leaves and, I don’t wanna admit this, but I watched him go, you know. Nice ass.”

Sara, who was seemingly the most composed of the four, shook her head, snickering at her usually timid and reserved friend openly thirsting for coffee shop guy. Tia was frowning, trying to string together a thought that was forming messily and incoherently in her slightly tipsy mind.

“That kinda sounds like the guy who fixed my car…” Tia mused, voice a little slurred.

“Oh my gosh,” Yulia gasped, more excited than this particular revelation really called for. “I think coffee shop guy did say he was a mechanic at one point.”

“Wouldn’t it be crazy if it was actually the same guy though,” Tia said, before taking a big sip through her straw. “The car guy was really hot too. Like, I was twirling my hair the whole time laughing at everything he said.”

“Oh my god, Tia,” Sara shook her head. “Did you know he was married?”

“Yeah I saw the ring, whatever,” Tia laughed. “I bet I can steal that bitch’s man.”

“God, stop it.” Sara scolded through her laughter.

“Seriously, unless she is the perfect vessel of divine beauty, I could totally steal him,” Tia continued. “I mean, when I came to pick up my car there was definitely something there,

“I walked up and he, unprompted, was like ‘you’re the girl with a cute little bug, right?’. I was like,” Tia stuck out her chest, letting her cleavage peek out of her tank top in a cartoonish pose, and began to speak with an over-the-top sultry tone.

“‘Yeah, that’s me; cute girl for the cute bug.’. And then he laughed a little bit. Then he even commented on my tattoos he was like ‘nice sleeve’ and we talked about them a little bit and I asked him if he had any and he said he has one, but it’s on his chest. So… I was a little brave and I said ‘Oh, well you can show me some time if you want’ and I could have sworn he got a little flustered.”

“He probably got flustered because he was at work and he’s married!” Sara protested.

“Maybe,” Tia conceded with an unbothered shrug. She seemed a little lost in her thoughts. “He looked so good with a little car grease on him though. I’d buy a calendar of that guy. You know, I would so objectify him.”

“Tia, please.” Rachel grimaced. “Here’s me talking about a sweet loving father, and then there’s you flirting with a married mechanic.”

“I mean, not to be judgemental,” Sara added. “But how do you know he’s not like a typical misogynistic macho type?”

“What, just because he’s a mechanic? That’s so judgemental, Sara, you can’t make assumptions like that.” Yulia scoffed. “He seemed really sweet. When he was talking about his wife, you could tell he really loves her. I didn’t get a typical ‘I hate my wife’ vibe from him.” Yulia gave a sympathetic look to Tia. “Sorry, Tia.”

“Doesn’t matter, I still think I have a shot.” Tia shrugged. “What ‘bout you, Sara? You got your eye on anybody? Some nerdy glasses guy who reads Jane Austen or whatever it is you’re into.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Actually yeah, a really sweet guy came into the library this week with his kid. He’s probably too old for me, and I think he’s married, but he had dark hair and really nice blue eyes,

“He took out a bunch of picture books and he told me that he’d just moved here recently. He also borrowed some gardening books, which was like, swoon. He just seemed so genuinely sweet and honest. The way he spoke was just… kind?”

“He’s definitely gay.” Tia asserted. Sara just gave her a weary look. “I’m just saying every guy you like turns out to be gay. You have a type, and it’s gay guys.”

“No way! Dan wasn’t gay.” Sara pouted.

“Yeah, but he was bi, and he moved to Florida to be with his boyfriend Julian.” Rachel added.

“Well technically I had a shot with him. You know, before he moved to Florida.” Sara said, deflated. “I mean, library guy didn’t seem gay. Not that it matters anyway.”

“How does someone seem gay?” Yulia pondered honestly.

“Well it’s not like there’s one set of traits for gay people,” Tia said. “But I think a pretty good predictor is if Sara has a crush on them.”

“Shut up.”

“Woah guys, oh my god!” Rachel hissed, patting Yulia’s arm furiously. “The guy, the hot dad, he just walked in. Don’t look, but he’s right by the bar!”

The other three immediately started craning their necks, very obviously, to get a good look. There at the bar seeming to be ordering a pair of drinks was hunter, husband, and father; Dean Winchester.

“Dude, that’s the car guy.” Tia said, getting a good look by standing up on her tippy toes.

“Yeah, that’s coffee guy.” Yulia confirmed.

Tia sat back down. “Don’t tell me that’s library guy too?”

“No,” Sara shook her head. “Library guy had dark hair, remember.”

“Uhhh, that him?” Tia said, pointing towards the table that Dean was quickly approaching, two beers in hand, where a smiling Castiel sat in wait.

Sara gasped. “That is him.”

Dean, as soon as he had placed the two bottles down on the table, leant down to plant a quick kiss on Cas’s lips. As he pulled away, the girls could see Cas smiling up at Dean, his gentle gaze soft and sincere, while Dean looked back at Cas like he was looking at the most precious thing he’d ever laid eyes on, which he was.

The ladies sat in stunned silence; what they’d just witnessed was somehow disheartening and heartwarming all at once. Tia was the first to speak.

“Sara, you’re cursed.”

[sohotthateveryonedied]

This was so fun to think about, seriously you’re awesome and I love you anon ♥️

Damian:

• *looks in the mirror five seconds after the spell hit. gasps* “I’m HIDEOUS!!!”

• Wayne Enterprises employee, smiling brightly: “Good morning Mr. Drake-Wayne. How are you today?”

Damian: “I don’t know but you’re fired.”

• He gets so fed up with having to push Tim’s bangs from his eyes that he resorts to borrowing Cass’ sparkly butterfly hair clips to keep them up and out of his face.

• “Why am I only an inch taller than I used to be? I still can’t reach Pennyworth’s cookie jar even on my tiptoes. You need to grow more, Drake.”

• He finds out why Tim wears long sleeves so often, but he doesn’t say anything to Tim about it. He does file it away for future conversation, though, and he monitors Tim more closely even after the whole incident is over.

• “Damian, why are you chugging an entire carton of milk?”

“Because Drake is too small for me to tolerate any longer. I’m a beanpole. A toothpick. A runt amidst a litter of bats.”

• *goes outside for an hour* “HOW THE HELL AM I SO SUNBURNED??? WHAT ARE YOU, A VAMPIRE???”

• He’s sad when his pets don’t recognize him and run when he tries to pet them. As a solution, he douses his entire body in catnip. Turns out Tim never told him he was allergic to catnip, so that was an interesting discovery.

• He has to drink at least four cups of coffee a day or else he gets sick because at this point Tim is addicted to coffee.

Same goes for normal food. Eating ramen noodles with goldfish and butterscotch pudding is fine, but he ate one (1) apple and his body tried to reject it.

• Ives: “Hey Timbo, what’s up?”

Damian: “Uh....Hello, associate of mine. Feeling very fleek today. Everything is cool beans. Crackalackin.”

Tim:

• “Why are my pecs so huge.” *cups them* “They feel like rock hard muscle melons. Like a cantaloupe filled with pure power. What strong breasticles.”

• He’s amazed by the amount of muscle on Jason’s body and spends most of his time trying to see what stuff he can crush with his bare hands.

*breaks a stick in half* “I AM ALMIGHTY.”

• He braids Jason’s white streak and pins it back with some pink hair clips Steph gave him.

*poses in the mirror* “I’m a buff zombie princess.”

• *on the phone with Roy* “Hey Roy, so remember that secret I told you once and demanded you never to tell anyone else? Yeah, that one. Would you mind explaining it to me in explicit detail, slowly so I can write it all down.”

• *gentle gasp* “I’m allowed to drink alcoholic beverages in this body.”

*later that night after his fifth shot of appletini* “DO YOU EVER JUST THINK ABOUT THE MUPPETS AND CRY??? KERMIT THE FROG MAN, KERMIT THE FROG.”

• He has to wear sunglasses and a hat whenever he goes out because he has to make sure no one in Gotham recognizes the late Jason Todd.

• The first time he sees what Jason’s body really looks like under all the armor and layers, he’s shocked. Jason doesn’t take his shirt off in front of people much because he’s embarrassed by all the scars. Tim tries not to look at them because he knows Jason doesn’t like sharing this detail with anyone, but occasionally he finds himself absently tracing the autopsy scar under his shirt. He has a new respect for Jason after this whole ordeal.

Jason:

• “I feel like an overcooked noodle.”

• Adjusting to how flexible Dick is turns out to be quite the experience. He does the splits with no problem. He swings from a tree branch and lands on the ground as fluid as a leaf. He does four backflips in a row.

Jason, cartwheeling through the room: “Watch as he flips with the greatest of ease, the rad noodle man on the flying trapeze.”

Dick, in his tiny Damian voice: “That’s not even how the song goes!”

• “Why does my mouth taste like ketchup and ice cream 24/7. What do you eat, Dick.”

• At first he thinks it’ll be nice for once, being able to walk around Gotham without worrying about people recognizing him as being a dead man. Turns out, it’s almost worse when he can’t go to a McDonald’s without a bunch of paparazzi and fan girls following him around and begging to take a picture with the hottest Wayne boy.

• He goes to the police precinct for work and is on edge the whole time because this is the first time in years he’s been surrounded by cops who don’t want to arrest him.

• Catcaller: “Hey, nice ass!”

Jason: “Thanks, I got it from my brother!”

• Dick from the next room: “If you smoke in my body and give me cancer I’ll kill you!”

Jason, with a lit cigarette in his mouth: “It’s a metaphor, you see. I died once and I’ll die again because I’m not a fucking coward.”

• After he’s back in his own body: “Hey, I wonder if I can still do all that flipsy shit.”

Later: “So, Master Jason, tell me again how you shattered your collarbone?”

Dick:

• He eats one (1) cheeseburger, but unfortunately forgot about Damian being vegetarian so he winds up getting violently sick because the body he’s in doesn’t accept meat anymore. So that was a learning experience.

• “Why does it physically hurt to smile. Who hurt you, Damian.”

“A bunch of assassins and a psychopath for a grandfather.”

• Damian may be athletic, but he’s nowhere near as stretchy as Dick is used to. He tries putting his leg behind his head and nearly breaks his pelvis.

One upside is he’s far smaller and lighter in Damian’s body, which makes swinging around on the trapeze a breeze. He’s like an Acrobat Barbie doll.

• He has to call Tim for help when he can’t reach his cereal on the top shelf.

Tim, walking into the kitchen half asleep and confused: “Are you one of Santa’s elves?”

Dick, sobbing on the floor: “I CAN’T REACH MY FRUITY PEBBLES”

• He starts crying again later that afternoon because “THIS WEAK ASS BODY CAN’T EAT SRIRACHA WHAT AM I GOING TO DO NOW???”

• He stands in the middle of the room and watches all the adults bustle around: “I am a bean. A tiny chihuahua. A mere flea in a world of elephants and woosles.”

• “If there is one upside to all of this body-swapping, at least I can finally use the Dora the Explorer baby toothpaste without being ridiculed.”

• Jon: “Hi, Dami! What’s up?”

Dick: *to himself* “Hmmm what would Damian say...Oh, I know!”

To Jon: “Salutations, comrade. Photosynthesis. Lackadaisical. The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”

[ooops-i-arted]

15 Day SWTOR OC Challenge

15. Free day. Anything you’d like to talk about that wasn’t covered goes here. Fun facts? Not-fun facts? Go wild. I don’t own you.

A bunch of random tidbits about my OCs??  Don’t mind if I do!

Avei

Avei is right-handed but can use her left hand well enough in most situations to be somewhat ambidextrous.

She makes many jokes about how good she is with her hands.

She smol, about 5′2″.

After Corso gave her Flashy and Sparkles she uses them exclusively.  She always wanted cool modded blasters but could never afford them, so she treasures her pair and keeps them in top condition.

Avei loves to tinker with stuff and does it to calm down or soothe herself.  She feels the same about ship maintenance and if she’s stressed will just open a random panel and tune up everything inside.

Her favorite place in her ship is the cockpit.  She loves to sit and just watch the stars.

She got her fancy blue dress one night when Avei went home with a Coruscant socialite for fun times, her dad came home early, and Avei grabbed the wrong set of clothes on her way out the back door.

When Avei was about eight, an Organa noble’s kid snuck on board Atr’ii’s ship.  He wasn’t very useful - more enamored with the ~glamour~ of a rogue’s life than any of the reality - but he was a convenient babysitter for Avei so Atr’ii let him stick around for a few weeks.  He would teach Avei all sorts of fancy noble mannerly things to entertain her and she went through a princess phase for a while.  As an adult she finds it useful when she does a job smuggling for a more white collar client.

She also went through a Jedi phase as a kid.  When she met Skye she was immediately excited to have a cool Jedi friend.  (Skye took a while to warm up.)

Avei can be charming and suave for short periods of time but if you get to know her at all the fact that she’s huge dork is revealed.

She loves puns.  The worse, the better.

Her idea of seducing her husband is “Hey farmboy, let me ride your tractor, I can drive stick hurr hurr”

Avei thinks hair is weird af.  Obviously she’s used to being around humans and everything, but it’s still weird to her.  If drunk enough she will play with people’s hair.

She will dance sober but dance even more enthusiastically if drunk.  She will only sing when drunk, and when she does it is loud and terrible.

Avei’s favorite song is the Star Wars equivalent of Uptown Funk.

If you make slave girl or dancer comments to her face, she will shoot you, most likely in the junk.

She hates the Hutts and the Cartel because of their enslavement of her people.  When she needs a girl’s night, she, Risha, Akaavi, and sometimes Skye will go rob some Hutt business or another.

She is not an animal person.  At all.  She was incredibly salty about Risha putting the shanjaru on her ship.

There are NPC lines about statues being built of your PC.  At least one of Avei gets built.  Avei has a holo of her touching her own butt.  She then made Corso pose for a holo of him touching her butt.  They are framed and displayed in their house.  Avei is very proud of them.

Kiva refuses to bring her first girlfriend home because of them.  Corso ensures the holodisplay is mysteriously not working when needed for her sake.

Avei suspects she knows why the holodisplay keeps mysteriously going out but she likes tinkering with stuff too much to really complain.  Also she makes the picture bigger each time.

She prefers fruity sweets over chocolate.  Her favorite is a specific brand of sugared shuura fruit imported from Naboo.

Illivrin

Illivrin, being raised in a poor subsistence farming community and then being a slave, has a very low-grade education.  In American terms, she probably wouldn’t have even graduated high school.

She has poor reading and writing skills.  She struggles to read at more than a slow pace, and her handwriting is rough chicken scratches.  She completes everything she can digitally.

This is how Sali’ra manages to turn Illivrin’s base against her; Illivrin gives Sali’ra more and more paperwork over the years so Sali’ra gets more and more intel and can start manipulating Illivrin’s underlings accordingly right under her nose.

Also due to this she will eat anything.  If she gets it and it looks vaguely edible and she’s sure it’s not poisoned, she will eat it.  Her diet is terrible.

She is extremely paranoid about poison being hidden in richly flavored dishes, and avoids fancy foods.  Her diet mainly consists of ration bars, some vegetables, and crappy roasted meat.

Illivrin is right handed.

Like Avei, she pretty smol.  About 5′5″.

She is incredibly strong in the Force.  The Anakin Skywalker of her day.  I don’t give a rat’s ass what KotFE canon says about Vaylin.

She is hardcore introverted, and is honestly happiest wandering in the depths of a Sith tomb alone or with just Khem, looking at weird artifacts.

Unlike Bioware I did not forget about the Silencer.  Illivrin will take any excuse to whip it out and point it at an enemy.  It’s like Life Day for her.

She isn’t a fan of music, and prefers quieter recordings of obscure classics from Imperial and Sith cultures if she does have to listen to something.  Generally things that sound like quiet wailing to the untrained ear.

She doesn’t like to wear things heavier than a scarf on her face or neck because it reminds her of her slave collar.  She still treasures the Mask of Kallig, but it’s the only exception.

For this reason she keeps her hair short until she is exiled, when she doesn’t have a way to cut it regularly.

She didn’t trust anyone with scissors near her neck and had a barber droid, which she mindwipes regularly to avoid tampering.

She kept bangs grown out on one side because she is self-conscious of the burn scar on her face.

Illivrin’s Force powers manifested while she was a slave in the form of a Muggle Repellent charm-type thing.  Any slave overseer getting ideas about the nearest female slave got hit with a massive, uncontrolled “STAY TF AWAY” wave from her through the Force; all they knew was that they suddenly got a horrible headache.

Because of her days as a slave, Illivrin enjoys killing slave owners and...the slaves.

She kills the owner first in a horrible, horrible painful way ofc.

But then because her mindset is “I would rather die than be a slave again” she kills the slaves too, because slavery is a fate worse than death and as far as she’s concerned, she’s saving them.  The slaves do not see it this way.

Illivrin’s final end is when Kiva reverses the binding rituals, frees the Sith ghosts Illivrin bound, and in turn binds Illivrin to an eternal prison in a tomb on Yavin 4.  She is trapped there, separated from Khem Val, the only person she ever cared about, for all eternity.

It is a deeply beloved and self-indulgent headcanon of mine that at some point Anakin Skywalker finds her prison tomb thing and she fries his bitch ass.