#like that lipstick scene ... fruity

[julieverne]

When Maura met Jane, Jane's lips were always dry.

Maura used moisturising lipstick, but she started carrying lipbalm as well, offering it to Jane whenever she licked her chapped lips.

Soon she was used to Jane's hand digging in her purse to find it herself.

Maura had conditioned Jane as surely as she had conditioned her lips.

And then, one day, she'd forgotten to pack the new flavour she'd purchased - a fun, fruity one that had a nice matte finish. She touched up her lipstick in the car as Jane parked, and then Jane's hand was in her lap, grabbing her purse and rifling through it.

She looked up at Maura, confused.

"This is moisturising," Maura offered, but Jane looked at the shade dubiously. With good reason; it flattered Maura's tones rather than Jane's.

"Looks better on you," Jane complained, sifting through Maura's purse again, her face bereft.

Eventually she looked up at Maura with sad, deep eyes and a little pout.

And then she leaned across the console and pressed her lips against Maura's.

"Tastes better on you too," Jane said when she pulled away. The tint wasn't so obvious when it was halved like that, and the flush across Jane's cheeks flattered it. "C'mon, crime scene," Jane said, putting the handbrake on.

From then on, Maura's lips were always a little drier than she'd like, but it was a small price to pay for a kiss every day.

#rizzoli and isles #rizzoli & isles #maura isles #rizzles #jane rizzoli #rizzles ficlet #rizzles fanfic

[daedalusdavinci]

@ikeofeyes asked for spin the bottle kiss w bruce n harvey and im here to. get terribly carried away puzzling out the scene and the crushing realities of homophobia. im putting things under a cut bc it got long

For a whole host of reasons, parties were not particularly Harvey’s scene. They weren’t Bruce’s, either, but Bruce had lived a life that was performance after performance, and Harvey often thought that he no longer knew how to do anything else. He seemed inexplicably drawn to the things that were worst for him, like an addict searching for the illusion of control in destruction.

Unfortunately, Harvey was inexplicably drawn to Bruce. So when Bruce went, he went.

This particularly party was loud, crowded, and smelled too strongly of a host of substances that would get them all expelled in an instant. So, it wasn’t too different from most college parties. It was unbearably dark in most of the rooms, with the one exception being the kitchen, where alcohol seemed to pour nonstop. The front room was entirely taken up by a crowd that was unreasonably invested in an ongoing karaoke contest, wherein the rules were unclear, and the prizes nonexistent. If Harvey had to hazard a guess, he would say the award went to whoever sung the most off-key, but beyond that, it was a mystery to him. Most things people did at parties were a mystery to him.

When he pushed his way through the karaoke crowd, aiming desperately for the stairway that led up and deeper into the nightmare that was a frat house, a girl grabbed at his shirt with the kind of sloppy uncoordination that signified extreme drunkenness. “Harvey! Ohmigod, wow.” Her words slurred together, but she flashed him what he was sure was her most winning smile. Her eyes were dark, her outfit simple, but cute, like she didn’t own anything for a party like this, but knew how to make do. She’d attempted to force curls into her dark, pin-straight hair, but they were starting to loose their hold. He recognized her dimly from one of his classes, but not well enough to recall her name. “Look at you, out of the textbooks! Didn’t know you came to parties like this.”

The stench of beer and something fruity layered over it was beginning to turn overwhelmingly noxious. Someone laughed, and someone else jostled him. His skin was starting to crawl, and he glanced again toward the stairs, hoping desperately that he’d see some trace of the bastard he’d followed here, who had ditched him some time ago to chase a brunette with wicked nails and a smile like a secret. Idiot. “I don’t. Usually. I was roped into it by a friend.”

“Oh.” Her smile faltered, just for a moment. She plastered it back on again like poorly reapplied lipstick. “Well, who’s the lucky girl?”

He blinked, refocusing on her face. The colors from the TV screen washed green and purple over her face, disconcerting. “What? No, Bruce. You remember Wayne.”

Her smile brightened, and she stood a little straighter, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Oh, well, then-”

“I’m sorry, I really need to find him before he gets himself into something stupid. Another time,” he said quickly, placing a placating hand on her arm before once again fighting his way through the sea of college kids. He didn’t hear if she had a response.

Upstairs, most of the lights were off. There was the bathroom, cracked open to spill light into the hallway, and two bedrooms that shone gold at the bottom. Harvey tried the one holding muffled chatter, hopeful that he wouldn’t find Bruce in a compromising position this time, and was relieved to find his friend sitting in a circle with people he didn’t know, fully clothed and laughing far too loudly. Here, the smell of weed layered over the stench of alcohol, so strong that Harvey’s nose wrinkled. Still, it was somehow preferable to the smell downstairs.

“Harv!” Bruce’s grin turned on him, blindingly brilliant and insufferably air-headed. He leaned on a hand to reach out and grab Harvey’s hand, dragging him clumsily into the circle. Harvey’s knee knocked against another girl’s side as he tumbled in next to Bruce, but she seemed thankfully unbothered, only shifting away with a laugh. Bruce’s arm slung loosely around his shoulders, dragging him in to knock their heads together. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to. We’re playing spin the bottle.”

“Where I went off to?” Harvey demanded. Irritation bubbled up in his chest, the overstimultation tipping suddenly from something he could distance himself from to something that rankled. The temptation to drag Bruce out by the ear was overwhelming.

Maybe Bruce could see it, because he deflected, looking to the rest of the group. “Mind if my friend joins us?”

Harvey found himself on the receiving of several once-overs. The feeling of being leered at so openly was startling enough to distract him, if just for a moment.

“Sure thing, man,” a man said brightly. Harvey clocked him immediately as one of the frat brothers, but couldn’t recognize him beyond that.

A girl snorted loudly. “Sure, you mind? Or, sure, you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all,” a different girl said, flashing Harvey a lazy smirk.

The frat guy frowned like he was puzzling out a particularly difficult algebra problem. “I... don’t, I think?”

“It’s your turn,” a different man said, elbowing the girl next to him.

And then, as though there had never been a disturbance at all, the game started up again without Harvey ever suggesting that he wanted to play.

Harvey had never played spin the bottle before. Frankly, he’d kind of thought it was the sort of game that the movies played up for dramatics and to make teens seem hornier than they were. Or, at the very least, he’d assumed it would be the sort of game that would be left behind in high school, and not played at a fucking college party. He found himself reassessing both theories as the bottle spun, and dares passed from person to person.

The point of the game, at the college level, seemed to be to get to know everyone as inappropriately as possible. He watched pair after pair match up- usually straight, but occasionally two women- crawling across the circle to meet each other with awful, drunken kisses. It was abundantly clear that he was one of the only sober people in the room, if not the only sober person in the room, and it showed in the awkward pawing and sloppy tonguing. It was almost embarrassing to watch, really.

It wasn’t long before he was dragged from spectator to active player, though, a redhead with drooping eyelashes and a smile that could make any man flush from heel to head pulling him into a kiss that was messy enough to make the very low rankings of his few high school experiences, and tasted uncomfortably of beer. And then the kisses just kept coming. There was a brunette with curly hair and dark eyes that caught the gold of the light, a bold blonde who liked it handsy, and another girl who winked at him afterward like she was planning on more.

He could handle it. He could definitely handle it.

And Bruce... well. Harvey had had more experience than he honestly wanted to with catching Bruce plastered against various women, in various compromising situations. He’d gotten almost ridiculously good at pushing the right buttons to make a girl swoon or squeal, sweeping her into his lap, all shameless grins and gentle hands. It wasn’t quite so cringy when he did it, though it made Harvey’s stomach twist, and he never could puzzle out why.

And then Bruce had spun it again. And Harvey had suddenly found himself regretting ever setting foot in this stupid house with a renewed, impassioned vigor.

“Just spin it again, man,” said the frat guy with an easy wave of his hand.

But Bruce had that stupid glint in his eye, the way he did when he was about to climb the flagpole, or tell Harvey he was wrong just to get him going, or hit on a teacher just to drive home a point only a small portion of the class realized he was making. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and Harvey resisted the urge to hit him, to try and stop it before he even started whatever “it” was. “But the girls have kissed plenty of times. Maybe we owe them some eye-candy. Equality, and all.”

The attention of every girl snapped to the two of them at once, like predators latching onto prey. Harvey was horrified to hear a chorus of “Yeah, definitely”s and “For the equality”s, and even more horrified to see the frat guy’s face turn contemplative.

Bruce quirked an eyebrow at Harvey, his smile smug in a way that made Harvey want to smack it off of him. Harvey shot him a disbelieving look, and Bruce- intolerable, beautiful, obnoxious Bruce- wiggled his eyebrows back.

One of the guys waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever, I guess. Your cooties.”

“What are you, five?” one of the girls snorted.

“C’mon, Harv.” Bruce’s shoulder pressed against his own, his knuckle tucking under Harvey’s chin. He had a performer’s smile, asking Harvey, silently, to go along with it. The question was in the quirk of his eyebrows, overconfident to cover up something else underneath.

Harvey’s stomach turned. He felt queasy with the pressure, with the eyes on him, with the weight of whatever the fuck Bruce was asking him to help him accomplish here.

There was a scar on Bruce’s chin from when he’d first taken up skateboarding when he was nine and busted it open on a concrete bench. When he’d asked about it, Bruce had told him it seemed like the traditional rebel thing to do, and Harvey had made fun of him for a week. He had a hole in one ear from a piercing that had never closed up properly. His fingers were covered in scars that Harvey couldn’t see, but knew were from a host of other stupid activities, from rock-climbing to clumsiness in the kitchen. He knew them like the back of his own hand, because he knew Bruce. There wasn’t a man alive he trusted more.

Carefully, he reached up, and then curled his fingers into Bruce’s collar tightly. The heat of his chest and the feel of his specific poly blend (because Bruce hated textures, and could stand nothing else) was anchoring. “You owe me, so hard,” Harvey warned.

He felt Bruce exhale relief. Then he dragged him in, his nose bumping into Bruce’s cheek as he kissed him hard and bruising. Bruce’s hand curled against the back of his head, threading tight into his hair. He kissed Harvey like he was desperate for it, heated and wet in a way that made Harvey want to drag him closer, to do it again, and again, and again. He didn’t taste like alcohol at all.

But too fast, Bruce was breaking away from his lips, nipping at his jaw, ducking his head to mark his neck. It was too much- it was insane, and public, and- and for show. And when Bruce pulled away, breathless and grinning, it was to loud wolf whistles and the girl on his other side kissing his cheek, and a sinking feeling in Harvey’s stomach.

#bruharvey #twobats #alcohol // #bruce wayne #harvey dent #my fics #tumblr drabbles

[lazarettta]

Sasha's Night Out

In hindsight, Sasha knew she shouldn't have accepted all of those shots from strange people she didn't know...it wasn't her best idea. But she can't complain about how her night ended. Well, a little bit, but not entirely.

Or, when Sasha gets too many suitors knocking at her door and it drives Charlotte nuts and she can't take it anymore.

Words (2.8k)

The club was packed and it was loud. The air was humid and it smelled like sexually charged bodies and alcohol. The lighting was low, and there were bodies crushed together on the dance floor dancing to some beat that was nearly deafening everyone.

But no one cared because they were all too damn drunk to care. Well, except for Charlotte Flair and Bayley, who were sitting at one of the tall tables on the second floor looking down at their very drunk best friend on the dance floor having the time of her life.

Despite the dark lighting of the club, and the constant movement of bodies, Sasha’s magenta hair made it easy to keep track of her. They had been at the club for about 2 hours nearly 3, and Sasha showed no signs of slowing down.

In fact, it seemed as if she were now heading to the bar again for yet another free drink. And really neither Charlotte or Bayley could blame any of the men, and some women, buying Sasha all the drinks because she truly was a gorgeous sight.

Bayley smiled, shaking her head, “Dude, she’s soooo gonna regret this tomorrow.”

Charlotte just grunted, eyes still trained on Sasha, “I thought she was a lightweight...what happened?”

“Becky trained her.” Was all Bayley had to say to that, and Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“And of course she isn’t here tonight,”

Bayley perked up a little, leaning forward to see over the guardrail better, “Creep alert,”

Charlotte followed Bayley’s gaze and pointed finger and sighed heavily. Damn it. This would be the 7th one tonight.

“I’ll be right back.” Charlotte was off before Bayley could stop her or even say much else. The brunette just shook her head and picked up her cocktail, fully intending on staying back to watch the scene unfold.

In her tight leather pants, calf high boots and her sleeveless top, showing off her impressive arms...Charlotte looked like a tall glass of ice cold water in a hot desert that was ready to whoop ass and take names later.

Down on the dance floor, Charlotte used her height and strength to get through the drunk, sweaty bodies, her laser focus never leaving her target.

But Sasha wasn’t paying attention to anything around her except the pink, fruity drink that was placed directly in front of her. Paid for by dark haired woman with the greenest eyes she’s ever seen and red lipstick that would make the devil blush.

The woman was pressed close to Sasha, nearly trapping her against the bar as she towered over her, “Drink up, baby, so we can get back on the dance floor.”

Sasha giggled, staring up at her new friend as she caught the straw with her lips, and took a big sip and made a face, “Mmm! It’s soooo sweet!”

The woman chuckled, “You said you were thirsty, closest thing to water here.”

“Mmm,” Sasha took another try, nearly sucking it dry before the woman took the glass from Sasha and placed it on the bar behind her, “S’good...I wan’ another one,” Sasha slurred, placing her hands on the woman’s waist, pulling her closer as she was led back to the dance floor.

Everything was a blur around her, so loud and so hot but Sasha was having way too much fun to care.

“How about we get out of here? I can make you one back at my place?” The woman began kissing down Sasha’s neck, nipping lightly at her jaw, making her moan.

Sasha turned around suddenly when one of her favorite songs came on and she began shaking her ass, hands in her hair with her eyes closed.

Before the woman could take advantage, Charlotte slid between her and Sasha, and forced the other woman back.

“Hey?! What the fuck?!”

Charlotte ignored her, and wrapped an arm around Sasha’s waist, “C’mon girly, you’ve had enough!” Charlotte had to shout over the loud music, especially now that the bass that had just dropped.

Sasha turned around and wrapped her arms around Charlotte clumsily, still singing (shouting) along to the lyrics. The unknown woman took in Charlotte’s sleek but muscular physique and thought better of it.

“C’mon, girly,” Charlotte grunted again, trying to haul Sasha’s drunk ass off the dance floor.

“Wait!” Sasha hollered, wiggling out of charlotte's grasp somehow, nearly falling on her face because of her high heels and Charlotte caught her easily, “My friend!? Where she goooo?!”

Charlotte shook her head, picking drunk squirmy Sasha up so she could walk faster, relieved when they finally reached the edge of the dance floor and she could finally put Sasha down.

“OH MY GOD THATS MY FUCKIN’ SONG! CHARLIE! CHARLIE! THEY RAPPED ABOUT YOUR DAD!” Sasha screamed excitedly, laughing as she began dancing again and Charlotte looked over at Bayley who joined them.

“Oh my-”

Sasha turned around and hooked one leg around Charlotte’s waist and an arm around the woman's neck, still dancing to the beat somehow.

“Help?”

And it didn’t help that the DJ kept dropping all of Sasha’s favorite songs, and Bayley was laughing her ass off as she began recording the entire thing on her phone.

And suddenly Sasha’s entire demeanor changed slightly and she burped, “Ah, shit...Ion think I feels so good right now?”

Sasha kicked off her shoes as she stumbled away from Charlotte and right into Bayley, making her nearly drop her phone. Sasha’s stomach grumbled angrily, “oohhhh…”

Bayley held Sasha up while Charlotte got her shoes, “C’mon, dude, I think fun time is over!”

“Noooo,” Sasha whined, pouting and cupping Bayley’s face with two sweaty hands and brought her face close, nearly kissing her best friend, “We can’t! We just gots here!”

“We’ve been here for hours!” Bayley laughed, holding Sasha up as Charlotte helped her put her heels back on, “Oh you’re gonna be in so much shit tomorrow!”

“I made soooo many friends,” Sasha slurred, eyes darting around, “They were sooooo nice!”

“I bet they were,” Charlotte snorted, helping Bayley with Sasha towards the exit, ignoring the leering looks sent their way.

“I gots inviteded to houses guyssss,” Sasha laughed, shivering when they got outside, “I wanna go tonight...ooohh can we? Puhlease??!” Sasha pouted, but fell into a fit of giggles, “My body wanna have all the fun tonight!”

“Drunk and horny Sasha,” Bayley supplied unhelpfully, still laughing, “she’s definitely gonna regret this in the morning.”

Charlotte shook her head smirking because Bayley was right. Every single time. Only this time, it was just Sasha who was fucked up. And not Sasha and Becky.

Getting Sasha out of the club had been a little bit of a challenge. Getting her in the Uber and avoiding a horrible case of car sickness was a bit of a challenge too.

~~

Getting Sasha to shut up and get her to their hotel room was an absolute nightmare.

“Sasha!” Bayley hissed, nearly tripping over her own two feet as she picked up Sasha’s disregarded shoes, “Sasha! Dude, keep your shoes on your feet!”

Sasha laughed, leaning up against the wall by the elevators, to hold herself up. She was laughing at Bayley nearly busting her ass on the floor and Charlotte had to admit that it was funny. 

In the elevator, Sasha seemed to be swaying to some music her friends couldn’t hear and Bayley, still holding Sasha’s shoes, was recording her bestie again with a giant shit eating grin.

“She’s gonna kill you for those videos.”

“Blackmail and karma. I’ll send them to you later.”

When they finally reached the hotel room, Sasha managed to stumble her way to the bed and went down, bouncing slightly. Charlotte groaned slightly, she didn’t want Sasha laying down just yet and Bayley was absolutely no help whatsoever.

“C’mon Sash, we gotta…” Charlotte stopped reaching for her friend when she realized that Sasha was crying.

For what she didn’t know especially since she was just laughing and giggling not even 30 seconds ago!

“Sasha? Sweetheart, what’s the matter? Are you hurting somewhere or feel sick?”

“No!” Sasha shook her head slowly, “No one likes me!” Her face starting to crumble into her dreaded ugly cry face as she loved to put it and Charlotte was low key about to start panicking.

“Sasha? Honey what are you talking about, huh?” Charlotte asked softly, reaching out to touch her friends face but Sasha wasn’t having it and moved away, nearly losing her balance if Bayley hadn’t been sitting right next to her on the bed.

“All my friends!” Sasha sniffled with red eyes, her voice cracking and she was almost whining, “They left me tonight! All I wanted was to feel good and-and,” she hiccuped and burped a little, and Charlotte blinked rapidly because damn...this girl had nothing but pure alcohol in her blood right now, “They left! Why did they leave me, shart-Charlotte? Huh? Why??”

Bayley snorted but covered it with a cough, she hated seeing Sasha cry but this time was a little funny. Sasha had no clue that Charlotte had been cock-blocking her all night. Granted, Bayley was helping for a good reason but this was just great.

“Drunk and horny Sasha strikes again.”

Sasha hiccuped again, swaying a little as she turned to look at Bayley as if she hadn’t seen her in forever , “Bayley? Bayley! You’re here!”

Bayley smiled and wrapped one arm around Sasha’s shoulders, hugging her, “Yep! I’ve been here for a while babe. Where have you been all night?”

“Trying to get laiiiiid!”

Bayley wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Any luck?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes, huffing behind them, “Bayley, don’t encourage her.”

“No,” Sasha pointed, bottom lip poking out as she flopped back onto the pillows without much grace, “because I’m ugly! I’m ugly and no one wants an ugly chick!”

“No you are not ugly,” Charlotte immediately said as she climbed onto the bed right next to Sasha, pushing a strand of hair from her face and some tears as well, “You’re beautiful, smart and funny and you’re just too drunk to function, sweetheart but you’re never ugly, okay?”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Charlotte.”

“Sasha.”

“You’re arguing with a drunk person,” Bayley told Charlotte unhelpfully as usual, and Charlotte just flipped her off.

“She’s going to sleep anyway, look.”

Bayley checked and saw what Charlotte said was true, that Sasha was indeed fading away, heavily, and she was clinging to Charlotte like she was a lifeline.

“That dress can’t be comfortable to sleep in.”

“Nope. Her bag is in the closet, if you wanna just, I dunno, help me out at any point tonight, Bay.”

Bayley stopped the video and set her phone aside, “Fine, just know this was payback for when you left me alone with a drunk you! AND a drunk Becky and a drunk Sasha.”

Charlotte burst out laughing at the memory, “But did you die?”

“You know, screw you dude. That Uber bill was 200 dollars!” Bayley cried, “and that’s not including the clean up bill and when Sasha-”

“Haha, okay okay!” Charlotte chuckled, not wanting to relive that nightmare, Stephanie tore into all of their asses bright and early the next morning too. “It was a good night, though.”

“Charlotte. Stephanie had to bail you out. I don’t see how that was a good night?” Bayley said, tossing her a shirt for Sasha and some shorts, “That night was horrible!”

“Because you were the only one sober,” Charlotte said as she began working Sasha out of her club clothes and into something more comfortable, knowing that Sasha wouldn’t mind. They’ve all had to do it for each other at one point.

“Whatever,” Bayley sighed, collecting her things, “I’m only two rooms down if you two need anything.”

“Night Bay, and I love you!”

“Yeah, yeah!” Bayley grumbled with a small smile as she left the hotel room, leaving Charlotte and Sasha alone.

Charlotte tossed Sasha’s dress towards the foot of the bed and went and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and some Advil in preparations for the morning of hell she knew Sasha was gonna wake up to.

Charlotte turned off all the lights and dropped the temp a little bit before crawling into the bed under the covers next to Sasha and held her close, going to sleep herself.

~~

“What the fuck!” Sasha huffed into the toilet bowl, her head was pounding and her eyes were dry and sore every time she blinked or tried to roll them. She woke up this morning feeling like she just wanted to die.

She had fallen off the bed crawling over Charlotte’s long ass body and fighting off the sheets trying to get to the bathroom in time.

Charlotte sighed softly, wringing out the face towel for the 3rd time since Sasha woke up in pure chaos at 4 in the morning. “You’re getting it all out of your system, here, this will help honey.”

Sasha dry heaved again, her entire body quivering but she still had enough strength to push away the offered bottled water, “N-no I don’t want it,”

Charlotte knelt behind Sasha, moving her hair aside and put a towel on the back of her neck, to help cool her down, “Baby, you need to hydrate, just take small sips, I promise it will help.”

“You always say that,” Sasha groaned, still shivering, god she felt like utter shit. She wanted to die, “I’m never fucking drinking again.” She slumped over, leaning on Charlotte.

“And you always say that and two weeks later, this happens.”

Sasha groaned and visibly flinched when she tried to roll her eyes, her eyeballs weren’t even shit, “Kill me nooooow!”

Charlotte reaches forward to flush the toilet before standing them both up, though Sasha wasn’t being much help. Charlotte held up the small cup of mouthwash, “You’re not leaving this bathroom until you at least swish.”

“You’re so mean,” Sasha whined, still breathing a little heavy because her stomach was hurting but there was nothing else left to give, but geez she felt so fucking drunk still.

“Well at least I’m not Becky. You know what she likes to do.”

Sasha shivered in Charlotte’s arms and took the little cup without another complaint and threw it back like a shot, and Charlotte grinned. That’s what got you drunk in the first place, shorty.

“Can I go back to bed now? Please?”

Charlotte carried Sasha to the bed and gently laid her down, “I’m gonna order some light breakfast...plain toast and dry cereal should help, okay?”

Sasha shook her head and made little grabby hands that Charlotte just couldn’t resist and she laid down next to one her greatest friends that she’s ever met in her entire life and held her close, adjusting the towel on Sasha’s neck.

“You okay? You never turn down toast?”

Sasha sighed, eyes closed (because it hurt less that way) and shook her head, “I don’t remember a lot from last night...but I…”

“You what?” Charlotte murmured, playing with the end of one of Sasha’s magenta locks.

“No one wanted to...Charlotte, am I ugly? Or something?”

“What?”

Charlotte was taken aback by the question, because that was something that drunk Sasha would ask, not semi sober I regret my whole life right now Sasha.

Charlotte sat up on her elbow, and stared down at Sasha, “What? Why would you think that? Of course you’re not ugly, Sasha. Like I told you last night, sweetie, you’re beautiful and you’re funny, and you’re smart and you’re the kindest person anyone would have the pleasure of knowing.”

Sasha made a face, a face that said that she didn’t believe her, “You have to say that you’re my friend…”

“Sasha-”

“I remember dancing with this one woman and she wanted to take me home and suddenly she was gone and I...was I just unattractive or too drunk? Too drunk to be attractive? Fuck… and there was a guy, he-”

“Sasha, fuck them, they didn’t deserve you when you were drunk and they damn sure don’t deserve you when you’re sober.”

There was something in Charlotte’s tone that had Sasha, painfully, opening her eyes and looking up into Charlotte’s blue eyes, “Charlotte?”

Charlotte opened her mouth to answer, to deflect or to talk her way out of a confession she’s been holding for a year now...but she didn’t want to hold it anymore. She couldn’t. So Charlotte did what she did best, she used action.

Sasha was surprised when Charlotte leaned down and kissed her, and she moved slow enough for Sasha to reject her but Sasha didn’t. She didn’t want to. Sasha moved the towel from her neck and tossed it aside on the floor somewhere as she sat up a little, deepening their kiss.

When oxygen became an issue, Sasha laid back down on the pillow, breathing labored but she was smiling. “I think you cured my hangover.”

Charlotte laughed, and kissed Sasha’s forehead, trying to will her own heart to stop doing somersaults. “Get some sleep, I’ll have toast and dry cereal when you wake up again.”

Sasha held Charlotte closer, eyes drifting closed once more, “You take such good care of me, Char.”

“Always, babe, always.”

FIN

#charlotte flair #sasha banks #wwe bayley #wwedivas

[pearlescent-princess]

I think the theme of this dream was "malice cannot change me".

I was in an arcade. Something about it was lively and upbeat. The only weird part of about it was crawling up a vent tube to get out, or maybe I just did that? Whatever the reason, the place was big. I had been there before, dream-wise.

I had been on the 2nd floor area sitting on cargo net next to someone else. She was having a triple win streak at the claw machine. One of the giant prize machines. Another person was there and she asked me if I could make an exchange for her. This gold colored lipstick with a powder blue case. I was asked if I wore it, and I said it wasn't agreeable with me. I left and went down to find a person to help. Both to reset the claw machine and to exchange the lipstick.

It was around here that there was an introduction of something more. I was near a group of people. Someone had been turned into a vampire by others. (With a short video scene of some strange cryptid artifacts in it. Gold antlered dear and something else). It was different.

There was a whole rivalry thing going on now. I felt mine around, somewhere. But an elderly woman had recruited newly turned vampires from all the people at the arcade. Those that just wanted to be left alone to play games vs those that wanted more.

There was a part where people found my blood alluring, or smelled of something sweet/ fruity. A theme in other things for me (past and present). I know this because I was on the 3rd floor of the cargo net structure with a bunch of vampires. They had covered their noses as I said I wanted to play just one claw machine round. It had been my goal the whole time of this part.

The elderly woman was back with a couple of her members. They were on the same floor but only divded by a thin see-through screen. She spoke to another vampire about how she has his twin. It wasn't mine, but I watched her as she approached me. She had a single front tooth that was her fang, and her husband had another like it. She cornered me, and held my hand to bite it, as did her husband. She said it was futile to resist. That she would change me. But I didn't turn. Not at all.

I can understand why I didn't [turn]. After, they left me alone feeling defeated. I got to do my one claw machine round. Was told by another that vampires got free tokens for life, which was funny (they're immortal), and made sense as to why so many were there.

#dreams #monarch's musings

[vitaminyoo]

I KNOW yeseul and yuseong r gonna end up together but could u iMAGINE THE POWER OF HEEWON ND YESEUL?????

#like that lipstick scene ... fruity #blease 🥺🥺🥺theyd be so cute

[hxneyandespressx]

the holidate

summary: emily and jennifer pair up to be platonic dates for Christmas and New Year’s. little did they know, real feelings would be caught along the way. 

pairing: emily prentiss x jennifer jareau (jemily)

word count: 4.9k

☆。*。☆。

Sitting by the bar, Emily took a sip of her second drink of the night. It was nearing Christmas, and the bar was filling up with lonely singles and a few happy couples. At this time in the night, the bar usually would be packed. Now that it was the holiday season, there was less of a turnout. The noirette had been here for a little while, an hour at most, and was drinking her dread away. She hoped to avoid the questions to come at the upcoming family gathering. Every year, on her vacation to her mother’s mansion, all of her extended family members asked Emily one of the following questions:

“Do you have a boyfriend?” 

“How’s your career going?”

“What’s it like working in London?”

As she thought about visiting them, Emily sat her head down on the countertop. She had been dreading the visit for weeks. Her family could be a bit much, intense one might call it. There were always arguments between the conservative uncles. Endless gossiping amongst the aunts. Even her grandmother would take her time picking apart all of Emily’s flaws. Never once had there been a quiet holiday without someone (usually Emily) creating chaos, dampening everyone’s festive mood.

Several minutes had passed, her head hanging low from stress, and Emily felt a warm presence standing beside her, leaning against the bar casually. This stranger was able to find a spot due to the bar being at fifty percent capacity. Usually, one would not be able to find a spot to sit down at. 

Turning her head at a slight angle, out of the corner of her deep russet eyes, Emily saw the most beautiful woman that she had seen in her entire life. Dressed in a long-sleeved, baby blue mid-length dress with a pair of velvet thigh-high boots, with a black wool peacoat, a petite blonde smiled softly at Emily.

“Drinking your sorrows away tonight?” The blonde said while softly smirking and gesturing at the red lipstick-lined glass. Emily chuckled. 

“Sorry. I just hate going back home for the holidays.” Emily sat up from her previous position, gazing into her almost empty drink.  

“Don’t worry. I feel the same way. By the way, I’m Jennifer,” the blonde held out her hand, “but my friends call me JJ.”

“Emily.” The women shook hands then JJ took the seat next to the slouching woman. The stranger called over the bartender and ordered a blood orange cosmopolitan. 

“A Cosmo. Fancy, aren’t we?” Emily asked with a hint of a teasing tone. 

“Liking a fruity cocktail doesn’t hurt anyone.” The bartender hand over JJ her drink and she took a few sips to get the evening going. 

Emily shrugged her shoulders and took a long sip of her drink. Indie Christmas music played in the background as the two women sat in silence. 

“So… what’s the family like?” JJ decided to start some small talk. What else was there to do at a pub on a Tuesday evening? 

“You know… the typical family from the Capitol. A high-powered mother who’s career-driven, a sprinkle of conservative uncles who care about traditions, a dash of gossiping aunts who only cared about themselves, and the cousins whom you haven’t talked to in years. And the crazy grandmother who’s funeral is right around the corner. Then there’s the dead beat dad. And finally, the lonely and depressed single woman who wants to bring someone home for the holidays so then she won’t get pestered by the family with questions. Hint: that one’s me,” Emily shook her head at herself for spilling out the truth of the Prentiss family. “I can only do so much to tolerate them.”

Emily took another sip of her drink.

“Sorry for spilling my guts out. Holidays can be tough, am I right?”  JJ chuckled softly and passively waved her hand, understanding where Emily came from. JJ’s home life hadn’t been the best. Her sister died. Her parents divorced. The perfect brew for a lonely middle-aged woman.

“Don’t worry about it,” JJ gently laughed. “I didn’t travel back home for Christmas this year because my mother and I aren’t on speaking terms.” 

“Ah…I’m sorry about that.” Emily understood what it was like not having a caring mother. It was difficult to handle, but both Emily and JJ made it through in their own circumstances. 

A shared emotion loomed over the pair: the experience of being lonely during the holidays. JJ felt something stir in her heart. Perhaps a sign telling her to go with her instincts. Maybe something new could be starting between them? JJ furrowed her brow, brainstorming ideas to spend more time with the not-so-strange stranger next to her. The gears turned in her mind. She had to take this opportunity, or else it would slip away — to be forgotten forever. 

“You know… I do need a partner for a New Year’s Eve party that I got invited to.” JJ said nonchalantly. The blonde was interested in this Emily character. She had to think of a way to see her again. 

Emily raised her eyebrows and did her crooked smile. 

“I can take you to the party if I get to take you as my friend-date to a Christmas gala that my family attends every year,” Emily countered, “It gets super lonely when you’re the only single, middle-aged woman there.” The brunette set down her third and final drink down for the night. 

“Platonic? As in two strangers getting together as friends? During the holiday season?” JJ said, lifting her perfectly coiffed left eyebrow.

“That’s what I’m proposing.” JJ twiddled with her rings nervously underneath the countertop. She did not want Emily to see how anxious she got. 

Emily took some time to think about the situation she was getting herself into. 

“So… we agree that we are going to be each other’s holiday dates, as friends?” JJ asked Emily as she took a small black booklet and a pen out of her purse. Emily hummed as she sipped her drink, signifying a “yes.”

Writing her phone number down in light blue ink, JJ said, “I guess you can call me ‘babe’ for the weekend.” JJ winked at Emily when she looked up from her mini notebook.  

A slight peachy blush formed on Emily’s chiseled cheekbones. The blonde ripped the piece of paper from her little notebook, folded it into a neat square, and placed it in the hands of a blushing Emily. JJ noticed the blush and tried her best to not stare at the gorgeous woman in front of her. 

Placing some money as a tip for the bartender, JJ gestured “call me soon” at Emily, leaving the woman sitting by the bar flustered, wondering to herself what she had gotten herself into.

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December 23rd. Dread showed on Emily’s face. She gave herself a pep talk before knocking on the wooden door with the polished brass door knocker. Already regretting her decision, Emily knotted her scarf for the second time to keep the chill wind from nipping her already rosy nose and cheeks. Wanting to keep warm, Emily took out her zippo lighter and pack of cigarettes. She lit one up as she waited out in the cold. 20 minutes went by and Emily noticed a short dark figure approaching the main door. 

Taking her last drag of smoke, the young woman dropped her cigarette and stomped on it to get rid of the evidence from her mother. Just to be safe, Emily popped in a few mints to disguise her breath. Then, the door opened, and behind it was Emily’s mother. Elizabeth Prentiss. 

“Hello, mother,” Emily snarled with a hint of disgust. 

“Emilia.” Elizabeth had a neutral expression when facing Emily. She opened the door wider, letting her daughter in, along with the frosty winter air of December. As she entered the expertly decorated house, Emily took in the scene of the living room. Her little cousins were chasing each other. The uncles were drinking mulled wine and discussing the current events. The aunts were gossiping and making snide comments about their social circle. As Emily walked past her extended family members, a field of judgy looks followed her. Emily sighed, grudgingly waiting for the influx of questions from her aunts and uncles while putting her coat onto the coat hanger, and headed towards the snack bar. While nibbling on some toasted almonds, Emily felt a looming presence next to her. Without hesitation, Emily looked into her mother’s eyes, saying the words leave me alone silently. 

“You’re not still smoking, are you?” Elizabeth inquired. 

“Uh… no mother, I’m not still smoking. It was just a smoky Uber.”

“No man wants to marry a smoker.” 

Emily rolled her deep umber eyes as she walked away from the one person that she resented all these past years. 

“Any time I come home for the holidays, I’m showered in a sea of pity and sad glances,” Emily scoffed in anger. “I mean, why is everyone so suspicious of a happy single woman?”

“We just want the best for you, Emilia.”

“Whatever, mother.” Wanting to stay away from Elizabeth, Emily made her home with the home bar. 

 Couldn’t her mother see how disgusted she was at the mention of “man”? Well, how could she even know her, when Elizabeth Prentiss left Emily, only to be taken care of by a nanny. Since Elizabeth was the US ambassador, she put her career first, family second. Emily always felt she was second to her mother’s career. Well, at least her mother was okay with her being a lesbian. Emily would not say the same for some of the extended family. 

Not wanting to get too hung up on her problems, Emily lent out her helping hands to set up the dinner, to be attended by all of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandmother. Since Emily’s grandmother was the eldest in the family, she was seated at the head of the table. The setting had to be up to the Prentiss standard: skillfully decorated with garlands, candles, dinnerware, and neatly-folded napkins. The main dish was placed in the center to showcase the work put into it. After everything got set up, everyone gathered around to start fueling up their famished selves.

Not even ten minutes passed before one of Emily’s aunts asked her the dreaded question.  

“So, Emily. How are your romantic endeavors going? Found a man yet?” 

The thirty-year-old gritted her teeth in frustration. This was the exact conversation that she wanted to avoid. Most of the family acknowledge the fact that Emily Prentiss was in fact, a lesbian. However, they would rather keep quiet about it to remain perfect to their elitist friends.

“I’m dating here and there. Sometimes it does take a while to find the right man for you,” Emily lied through her teeth. She hated doing this every holiday season. Making up lies just to satisfy a person whom Emily only sees on holidays. Emily resented playing the role of “ambassador’s perfect daughter”. She always had ever since her teenage rebellion years.  

At her aunt's satisfied expression, Emily felt like she dodged a bullet. She did not feel like starting up an argument or an intervention. She only said that to please her aunt and everyone else. She had learned to say such things to avoid controversy, learning from her teenage rebellion that it never ended well for Emily.  

The rest of the dinner went on without an uproar, everyone eating and talking with pleasantries. 

Sometime after, the family was sitting around the large living, the fireplace crackling and its warmth filling the room, altogether creating a sense of hygge. One of Emily’s cousins stood up, clearing his throat. 

“Could I have everyone’s attention?” Jake Prentiss — an insufferable lawyer that Emily never really got along with — nervously called out. “I have something to say.” Everyone in the room became quiet and gave the spotlight to the man in the middle.  

He gently grabbed his girlfriend’s hand, making them stand in the center of the room. Emily mouthed a fuck no underneath her breath, standing underneath the kitchen archway in shock. 

“Claire Alexandria Scott, I know it’s only been four months and 8 amazing days,” Jake dropped down on one knee and he took out a small black box, opening it to reveal an engagement ring. “Will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?” 

The whole family cheered in joyous remarks, as the girlfriend-turned-fiancée accepted the proposal and had the ring put on her. Emily groaned at the scene, zipping up her new jacket, hiding her face in the hood. She felt like hiding away in a closet, never to be seen again. 

Frustration boiled within Emily. Why couldn’t she find someone to be happy with? Was the universe playing games with her? Emily always felt that life was a cruel witch, waiting to cast a spell to mess with her. However, this year, Emily felt something different. It was like life was giving her a chance. A chance at love. To be happy, free, in love. Does God want me to be with JJ from the bar? I knew that I felt something when I first saw her. Emily snapped from her thoughts, poured some more wine, and left the joyous celebration that was happening in the family room.  

Later that night, in her townhouse, Emily laid awake on her bed. She could not sleep as she had a lot on her mind. Grabbing her robe and phone, Emily quietly tiptoed downstairs and entered the kitchen. Usually, when Emily was stressed, she baked. It was the quietness she appreciated as the cookies cooked in the oven. But, her mind was filled too much with anxiety and stress from the holidays, so the brunette chose a simple task. 

Few events had happened that day, and everyone expected Emily to find a man and settle down, now that she’s the only one left single and the youngest of those who grew up with Emily. However, Emily usually was not the type to just settle down, even less so with a man. Many thoughts and emotions went through her mind as the young woman silently worked around the kitchen to make a warm beverage to calm her mind. 

Twenty-seven minutes went by and Emily checked the kitchen clock. 3:39 AM brightly lit against the darkness. Sitting by the bay window, Emily stared at the winter scenery, sipping on a hot toddy while watching the snow gently coating the evergreen pines. Her mind filled with thoughts. I wonder what would happen if I called her. Would she say no? Oh God, what if after meeting at the bar, she revoked the offer? 

Emily worried about being questioned by few family members tomorrow, or worse, being rejected by the one woman she had momentarily shown interest in. The middle-aged woman bit her lips in nervousness. Hoping that she felt the same, Emily unlocked her phone with her thumb and opened the messages app. Her phone teased her with the blinking cursor on the brightly lit screen.

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Christmas Eve. The family was scrambling around to prepare for the Christmas gala that was supposed to happen that night. The event was to be attended by the A-listers, politicians, anyone of importance. Emily stood in the background of the large family room, sipping on her glass of pinot noir while watching the chaos run amok in front of her. One of the cousins was wrapping presents quickly as a last-minute ditch effort. The children were running around the house, playing tag. Emily’s mother was shouting at people to get ready quickly to take a family photo for her social media accounts.

“Come on, people. We don’t have all day,” Emily’s mother said in an exasperated tone. “All we need is one good picture, then we are good to go for the Christmas gala this evening.” The ambassador tried her best to gather the younger children to the family room. 

The gala. That’s all that Elizabeth talked about. Emily was getting tired of it. She rolled her eyes, knowing that her mother only cared about looking good for the public. Since Elizabeth Prentiss was an ambassador, everything was about appearance and being “perfect”. This put a strain on Emily and her mother’s relationship, as Emily had a tough time conforming to what the politicians and other elite people wanted. 

She sighed in annoyance. Feeling slightly anxious, Emily bit her nails as she waited for her friend-date to arrive at the Prentiss house. Honestly, Emily could care less if a few family members caused an uproar over the fact that Emily was bringing a woman as a date. They knew of Emily being a lesbian, but they abided by the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. One could say that this was Emily’s gesture to finally say “fuck you” to all the conservatives in her family. 

Some time passed and the sound of the doorbell rang. Emily walked over to the main door. She opened the wooden door to greet Jennifer Jareau, all dressed perfectly for the gala.

“Wow, um..” Emily felt lost for words. “You’re….uh… beautiful.” She tried to compose herself. What the hell is wrong with me? This is purely platonic. Why am I feeling butterflies in my stomach?

Emily’s eyes did a quick scan to take in what JJ was wearing: a mid-length black lace dress with a high neck, accompanied by a white faux fur shawl, her golden honey locks perfectly curled and set in place. 

“You look beautiful as well.” JJ whispered underneath her breath, closing in the space between her and Prentiss. Deciding to be sneaky, JJ quickly pecked Emily’s right cheek. The taller woman stood under the doorway in shock, trying to rationalize what just happened. Friends do this right? I mean I know in Europe they do. 

Emily tried to cool her rosy cheeks down as she let in her friend-date. That’s all that it was. Platonic. No strings attached. Just friends attending an event together. 

Elizabeth Prentiss saw from the living room archway what was unfolding at the main doorway. She walked over to her daughter to inquire what her plans for the evening were. 

“Who’s this, Emilia?” 

“Oh.. um... This is Jennifer. She’s my... date,” Emily said. “She’s my plus one for the gala.” A few of Emily’s uncles and aunts huffed and turned their heads away in disapproval. A few of her cousins smiled and silently congratulated her. Clearly, they were eavesdropping on what was happening at the front door. 

Elizabeth squinted her eyes at her daughter.

“That’s okay with me,” Elizabeth turned to JJ, handing her phone to the blonde. “Can you take a photo of the family before we all head over to the gala?”

“Uh sure.” JJ took the ambassador’s phone and took a position in front of the Prentiss family. Emily stood in her stance awkwardly, wishing that this predicament had not happened in the first place. After a few quick snaps, JJ took the pictures and handed the phone back to Elizabeth. 

“Blurry. Boring. Nope. Nope. Nope,” Emily’s mother said as she swiped through the photos JJ took of the family, also commenting on the “style” the blonde took them in. JJ stood there. She felt like she was being lectured by a school teacher. 

“Okay, none of these will do. We will try again tomorrow.” JJ made a neutral expression, almost in disbelief that Emily’s mother would treat her like that. But then again, Emily had told JJ that her mother was like this. Nitpicky, wanting everything to be precise. To be perfect. 

After the photoshoot, everyone quickly headed out to their cars parked outside. JJ rode in an Uber with Emily to their destination. During their ride to the event, the two women talked. Oh, how they talked like they were friends from long ago. They stopped talking only when they arrived at their destination. 

JJ walked down the white marble steps of the venue. Jazz music could be heard all around the place. Christmas decorations neatly brought the whole ambiance together.

“Wow!” JJ was in shock at the number of people on the floor, mingling and drinking. 

“I know it’s a lot… Don’t worry, I got your back.” Emily took JJ from the top of the stairs and straight up to the open bar. 

Emily ordered a vodka soda while JJ ordered a Moscow mule. They laughed when they realized they both ordered something with vodka, just in two different flavors. After grabbing their drinks, both the women socialized with the other people at the gala — or rather Emily did, while JJ, who did not grow up in the eyes of politics, watched the scene. JJ stood there, smiling at the woman in her sight. She couldn’t tell if it was because of the alcohol or her own feelings, but JJ felt at peace for the first time in a long time. She felt whole. Complete. Loved.  

As she watched Emily Prentiss play the role of ambassador’s daughter, JJ felt a fluttering motion in her heart. It was like the universe was telling JJ that Emily was the one for her. No more second chances. She is the one. And for once, JJ was willing to listen to her heart when it came to this matter. After her four-year relationship with her previous boyfriend, William LaMontagne, ended two years ago, JJ felt she had nothing in the world. A few months after the break-up, the events of her sister’s death and her parents’ divorce unfolded. All of it caused JJ to feel nothing for the next two years. All she focused on was her career. Until that fateful day, at the bar, when she met Emily. 

When JJ entered through those wooden doors of the pub, her eyes first laid on Emily sitting by the bar countertop. Her heart fluttered a little, but JJ ignored it, feeling she wasn’t ready to go into a relationship. But, as she got to know Emily more, JJ slowly but surely fell in love with the brunette. It was definitely love at first sight. JJ was not the type to believe in concepts like that. But she was sure about her feelings for the brunette. 

The blonde, from afar, stared at Emily working her magic to engage the conversation with her mother and a group of elderly men. All of a sudden, Emily’s voice could be heard loud and clear. 

“I’m sorry. You don’t think gay people deserve rights?” Emily questioned while crossing her arms across her chest in anger.

“Well… Just so you know, you are speaking to the lesbian daughter of US ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Yes, I am not the ‘perfect’ daughter, but who cares! Perfect is meaningless in this world. It’s subjective. And I am not sorry for who I am.” Emily stood her ground and walked away from the group she was in with her mother. Elizabeth looked absolutely shocked by that speech. After recovering from the initial shock, the ambassador mouthed I’m proud of you at her daughter. 

Everyone in the venue watched Emily as she headed toward JJ. 

The blonde held out Emily’s drink to hand it over to her. She also poked Emily’s nose, to lighten the mood.

“You okay, Emily?” JJ asked. The taller woman huffed in frustration. Emily felt like she needed space away from the stuffy elitists. 

 “Why don’t we get out of here and take a little breather?” JJ offered. Emily nodded her head in agreement and both women took their jackets and walked out through the glass back doors.

They ducked out of the gala quietly. Snowflakes reflected the warm orange lights from the streetlamps. A type of quietness settled between the “couple”. The crisp winter chilled their flushed cheeks, making them sober up a little.  

The pair stood in the cold, enjoying the silence. But they knew that this would not last forever, as they would have to go their separate ways once the night ended. Emily and JJ continued their walk around the perimeter of the venue for three hours, just talking about every subject there was to think of. Hobbies. Careers. Art. Music. Hopes. Goals. Dreams. They turned around a corner to arrive back at the gala venue. JJ stopped Emily at the front iron gate.  

“Well… tonight’s been fun,” JJ said.  

“I agree. This year’s gala was much more bearable having you by my side.” JJ lightly blushed and barely attempted to hide it with her jacket collar. Emily noticed a tinge of color on JJ’s cheeks and softly smiled. The two women had started to fall for each other, twirling around each other like a pair of ivy vines. 

Unsure of the time, Emily quickly checked her watch. 

“It’s getting late. Want me to drop you off at your place?” Emily offered. JJ smiled happily at the gesture.

“I would love that.”

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New Year’s Eve. The music blared from the stereo system. Lights strobed along with the music. Emily and JJ leaned against the stainless steel railing on the balcony, watching the view below. Many drinks were ordered and downed within the one-and-a-half-hour they had been at the party. The slightly drunk women were playing a game where they made up stories about the people dancing below.

“I think the leather-vest-mate’s up now.”  Emily said. 

“Oh, okay, he’s an options trader.” JJ pointed at a silver-haired man dancing with his very young date. “Divorced. Two kids at Northwestern. She was his decorator on the new condo, hoping to be wife number three.” 

“Very good. Very good,” Emily said, looking at JJ and smiling at her story-making skills.

Both the women turned around and Emily jumped quickly on the scene in front of them. 

“Ooh, uh, white satin ruffles. Rented tuxedo. He’s just drenched in sweat. They are definitely getting engaged at midnight.” 

“Wow. You’re good.” JJ said. 

Emily shrugged at the compliment.

“It’s a gift,” Emily drank some more bubbly champagne, feeling a bit friskier than usual. “By the way, your tits look exceptional in that dress.”

“Thanks. That’s why I bought it.” JJ smiled at the compliment and did a little twirl. 

“Overall, you are just beautiful. As always.”

“That’s really sweet of you to notice.” JJ blushed, and she thanked the dark atmosphere of the venue for hiding it. She wouldn’t want her maybe-crush to notice that she was blushing not from the alcohol, but from her burgeoning feelings for the other woman.

Both the women downed their drinks and ordered some more. Once they felt they had enough, the “couple” headed down to the dance floor and had their fun for the night. They danced their feet off. Blew some gigantic bubbles with a long star-shaped bubble wand Beach balls were tossed amongst the crowd. Then the song “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” came on the speakers. JJ looked towards Emily as the taller woman made way and backed up to provide room for the jump from Dirty Dancing. 

Emily smirked and said, “Nobody puts Baby in a corner.” JJ grinned as she shook off her heels and Emily threw off her blazer, showing off her lean arm muscle. JJ speed walked over to Emily and as the iconic line went off, Emily caught JJ in her hands, like Patrick Swayze in the film. Several seconds later, Emily’s arms gave out and JJ toppled on top of her.

After escaping the dance floor, both the women nursed their injured heads on a leather loveseat. Shoes were off, splayed across the glass table in front of them. JJ huffed in annoyance after what happened on the dance floor. 

“Nobody drops Baby on her head.” Emily crookedly smiled and whispered “sorry”. Both stayed silent as they were becoming inebriated, surrounding themselves with the noise and action. Forty-five minutes passed, and JJ got bored with sitting and moping in pain, rather than having fun on the last day of the year.

“Wanna head up to the roof? We could take a break from the noise.” Emily nodded in agreement. 

They left the crowded atmosphere and climbed up to the top of the building. The chill winter breeze cooled down their flushed cheeks. The stars twinkled brighter against the pitch-black sky. The two women watched the glittering lights of Washington, DC. It was time for the countdown. 

10

JJ ever so slightly turned her head towards Emily.

9

Out of the corner of her eye, Emily noticed that JJ was looking at her and turned her own head towards her date. There was a certain softness to those baby blue eyes. 

8

“I’m glad I get to spend the last seconds of this year with you. You are incredible,” JJ said. Emily blushed a rosy pink, both from the cold and what JJ said. 

7

“I could say the same about you.”

6

“I really do hope we get to see each other more in the new year.”

5

“Why is that?”

4

“Because…. Um.” JJ felt nervous telling Emily the reason. She worried that it would ruin what was happening at the moment.

3

“You know what. Fuck it.”

2

JJ grabbed Emily’s face and roughly placed a kiss on her chapped, pink lips.

1

A roar of cheers and a chorus of yelled “Happy New Year!” filled the air as the clock struck midnight. The whole city celebrated. JJ took a deep breath as she parted from Emily’s lips.

“Happy New Year, Emily.” 

Emily looked at the gleaming girl in front of her and said, “Happy New Year, JJ.”

taglist:  @queer-rambling / @voidreid / @homosexualyearning / @babey-jj / @ssaemxlyprentxss / @pumpkin-goob / @iconicc / @fuckshitupm8-deactivated3728  / @blakes-dictionxry / @gravelyhumerus /  @foreverxgolden / @abbyprentiss / @lizziechase / @purelyprentiss / @heavenlydevil / @haleymalaffey

#honeys stories #criminal minds #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #jemily #christmas #the holidate #wlw yearning #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #jemily fanfiction #jemily fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #userablake

[ssa-sugar-tits]

queen of hearts // chapter three

summary: y/n y/l/n was crushed when she found out about maeve donovan. heartbroken, she left her entire life behind. what happens when she becomes the most prolific serial killer the bau has ever seen?

prologue + series masterlist & taglist

content warnings: angst, strong language, murder/death mentions, bar/alcohol, cheating mention

a/n: reader is a psychotic murderer. this is purely a work of fiction and if you or someone you know is experiencing homicidal urges, seek professional help immediately.

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JJ's POV

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God, poor Spence. I know him and I know he never meant to hurt Y/N. But I also know Y/N. I know how insecure she was despite how confident she let the world think she was. I know how Spencer meant the absolute world to her. I never could wrap my head around what made her leave everything behind but her worst fear came to life. In her eyes, she wasn't enough for the man she loved.

"Y/N is not a killer... Sh-She could never do this! She's kind and funny and she's a human being, n-not one of the sickos we put away! 104 bodies, Jayje. She couldn't..." Penelope keeps denying it with tears in her shimmery eyes. I'm not sure she can do this with Y/N as a suspect. Hell, I'm not sure I can do this with Y/N as a suspect.

"I'm sorry, I'm still stuck on the part where you cheated on her with a woman you hadn't even met. Why? I can't comprehend how you..." Emily sighs and mumbles to herself. Her eyes focus on Reid and the look on her face is un-readable in her Emily way but there's definitely tones of anger.

Morgan immediately defends Reid, "Prentiss, this isn't his fault."

"I know it isn't." Em doesn't sound convinced. She confirms it when she turns to Spence and spits out, "But what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Wrong with him? Y/N killed 104 people."

Spencer looks so sad... I haven't seen him like this since Maeve's death. He looks heartbroken, there's not even a sprinkle of light in his eyes.

"We don't know that, she's just a person of interest. Don't just label her a killer because she fits part of a profile." Rossi tries to settle it but Emily and Derek keep fuming at each other and my head is throbbing.

"Part? Rossi, she fits all of it. And as someone that worked in the BAU for so long she knows what our next moves are."

"Derek you can't just throw away years of friendship because she was hurt and had her fucking sanity taken from her."

"Taken?" Morgan lets out a forced, hostile as fuck laugh. "Emily-"

"Enough!" We all turn to where Hotch is standing. "You all need to stop and work this like a regular case. Right now, we'll treat Reid's insight as a tip and investigate as usual. Rossi go back to the last crime scene. The rest of you, work on tracking her and then bring her in for questioning. And no more bickering like children." With that, he turns and leaves. As I look around, I realize Spencer has a dead look on his face, he's hurting. Derek and Em are both furious... at each other? Garcia has left the room, I didn't even notice with all the chaos, and Rossi is looking at the files again. I should say something, anything. But I don't have any words.

"JJ are you okay?"

Not at all, I want to yell.

"What? Yeah I'm fine Em, thanks."

"You're crying."

Fuck.

I wipe the solemn tears away and clear my throat. "We need to get to work."

The room finally goes silent and I don't think any of us want to keep going right now. Guess it's fitting, granted this team doesn't have the best track records when there's personal stakes.

"Cases worked when law enforcement has bias or personal connections in favor of the unsub are 68% more likely to go unsolved." Barely even audible, Spencer croaks that out. "Typically because the people with the bias are opposed to actually arresting the person they care about."

Again. Silence.

-

Y/N's POV

-

Knock

Knock

Knock

"What the hell?... Go away!" Your thoughts are faster than street racers and you just want quiet.

"Ma'am it's housekeeping, would you like us to put up your do not disturb sign?"

"I can do it myself!" you spit.

Ever since the BAU was called in, you're a wreck. You're nervous, thrilled, agonising with past memories, and most importantly, you have an overwhelming urge to kill again. You get out of bed to put that do not disturb sign up. You walk over to the bathroom to wash your face and stare at yourself. Your hair is a mess, your face is drained and weak. Old mascara clumped underneath your eyes and smeared, faded lipstick. You're only wearing one of Spencer's old shirts and nothing underneath. It's the only one you didn't burn. Opening the hotel mini fridge, you pull out a bottle of cheap scotch and down it all. Halfway through, your throat is burning like hell and the gut wrenching feelings that you just want to fucking numb finally start to fade away. You get back in bed and whimper. Despite the fact that you've lost most of your will to live anymore, all you really want is to be held by him one last time. What are you, pitying yourself now?

Get the hell out of bed and stop crying like a fucking teenager.

It takes everything in you to stand up again and get your shit together. Trembling, you bring a hand up and wipe the tears off your face so hard you think you might make yourself bleed, leave a bruise at least. You put on a skimpy dress and fix your shitty makeup before making your way down to a local bar.

-

Lots of potentials. What if you just shot them all? Here and now? Yeah, right. The BAU would be here before you could get out and besides, whether you like it or not, you're... an "unsub" now.  You fucking hate to admit it but you have a signature and it's completely necessary to you. Scanning the room, you lock eyes with a particularly handsome man and look down to his hand. Tan line on his slim finger. Outline of a forgotten ring in the pocket of his dark slacks.

Perfect.

You look him up and down, making sure he notices your "interest." Then you take a sip of your fruity beverage seductively. Turning around slowly, you wait for him to come to you like a lost arrogant puppy. You know he will. They always do.

"Mind if I buy you a drink, gorgeous?"

There it is.

You trace a finger down his arm and introduce yourself with a fake innocence while he falls for your act hook, line, and sinker.

More flirtatious bullshit exchanged and eventually he invites you back to his place to have some fun.

-

Have some fun?

He has no idea.

-

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x you #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

[fand0m-obsess3d-g33k]

Secrets and Seduction (Tammy x Reader)

Summary: You’re asked last minute to babysit for Tammy when some unplanned events take place which leads to an even more unexpected situation. You’re long awaited dream is about to become a reality.

Words: 3,348

Warnings: NSFW (just cunnilingus)

Author’s note: I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is my first shot at writing anything smut related so please comment or message me any feedback! It’s much appreciated!!! Also I just wanted to extend a thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged Confessions with Cordelia, it really means a lot. I’m done talking now, enjoy darlings! Mwah!

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It was Saturday afternoon when you received a text from the docile blonde who was secretly the subject of most of your thoughts these days. You knew it was wrong especially since you were quite a bit younger than her however, ever since Tammy’s inconsiderate asshole of a husband left, you couldn’t get her off your mind.

Hey Y/N, I know that it’s last minute but I just got a called in. Would you be willing to babysit Keri tonight?  

Of course, Tam Tam, I’d love to! What time do you need me? Even though you shouldn’t your mind drifted to other situations where she may need you but you shook it off before hitting send.  

Oh Y/N, are you sure it’s not an inconvenience? I don’t want to cut into any plans you may have!

C’mon Tam Tam, you know I never have plans and even if I did, I’d gladly drop them to help you out. :)  

Well as long as you’re sure. Could you get here by 4:00?  

Done and done! See you then! :)

You looked at the time...3:00. An hour to get ready, you had to look nice in front of Tammy even if it was only for a little bit. You went up and grabbed your favorite burgundy dress as your mind reminded you that Tammy complimented it the one time she saw you wear it. It had sheer lace quarter length sleeves and fell to just about the knees. You brush your knotted Y/H/C mane before adding some winged black liner and mascara. You completed the makeup with some deep reddish-brown matte lipstick. Before exiting and heading out into the fall air, you throw your black pea coat and flats on.

When you arrived, you noticed the blonde carrying heavy duffel bags to the trunk of the car to which you rush over to take a couple from her hands. Tammy releases a sigh of relief before heaving the bags into the trunk with a loud thump. She was breathing heavily from the exertion; her hair was slightly tousled from sweat and trying to rush around yet she still looked breathtaking as always. You felt your mouth go dry as your mind started wandering to other moments when she would look like this.  

“Y/N? Y/N!” Tammy shouts snapping you out of your daydream. Her hand coming to rest on your shoulder, the touch gives off heat so intense you feel it through your rather thick coat. “Are you alright sweetheart?”  

“Y-yeah Tam Tam, I’m sorry I was just thinking, you know how I get.” A nervous laugh escapes your mouth making her giggle. Her hand giving your shoulder a squeeze before releasing it, she opened her mouth like she had something to say but was interrupted by her cell phone ringing.  

“Yes...yes. I’m leaving now Lou, see you in a bit. Bye.”  

You tense up when you hear Lou’s name leave the beautiful woman’s lips. You knew they worked together, granted you didn’t know what they did for work but early on you decided that was none of your business. If Tammy was happy you weren’t going to pry. Lou was at a party that Tammy had once, she seemed really nice nevertheless you had a sense of distaste towards the other blonde when you realized she was rather handsy. This fact too was none of your business since Tammy was not yours to claim but you couldn’t help being bitten by envy. It wasn’t known if the mother was interested in women yet if she was your mind knew that Lou would have a way better shot than you would, it hurt. The blonde shut the trunk before giving you a quick hug.  

“Thanks, so much Y/N, I owe you breakfast. Stay the night if you don’t have any plans tomorrow. I’ll see you later tonight!”  

“See you!” You yell back as she drives off with the window down waving at you.  

It was about 7:30 and you had put Keri to bed after your hours of making food for you both, painting her nails and dancing around ridiculously around the living room. The little girl was so adorable that you could never be upset when she was around. As you stood in the doorway watching her little form sleep for a minute before switching off the light your mind flashed back to a time six months into babysitting the little cutie. It was a night you just happened to hang out at the house because Tammy invited you for dinner as a thank you for your help.

“Looks like someone was sleepy.” You whispered to Tammy in the kitchen, pointing to the little girl’s body passed out across the couch. The gentle mother came in bending down to pick her daughter up, you stuck your arm out to stop her. “I got her.”  

You carried her up to her room, while Tammy finished up the last dish that was in the sink from dinner. Carefully you made it up the stairs into the girl’s room to tuck her sleeping form in, she stirred a bit as you told her goodnight and kissed her forehead.  

“Goodnight, love you Y/N.” The girl mumbled sleepily before turning over to continue sleeping.  

Your eyes were wide and your heart swelled. It was the sweetest thing ever, you realized Tammy thought so as well because when you got to the doorway she was standing off to the side. A beaming white smile lit up her face and a single tear was rolling down her cheek. You look to her with furrowed brows as if to ask ‘are you okay?’. As if reading your mind, she wiped the tear away and nodded smiling even wider before you both headed back downstairs.  

Just to give Tammy an update you texted her real quick to tell her Keri was asleep in her bed. After an hour passed with still no sign of the older woman so you snuggled up on the couch and switched-on Netflix and decided to watch Carol. It was one of your favorites and since the older woman was running late you figured there was no harm, she probably wouldn’t be back for a couple hours. Before the movie even started you heard the front door open and you frantically searched for the remote. Where in the hell did you put the remote? It was too late to change it, Tammy was already in the door, kicking off her shoes and walking over to you by the time you found the controller and were only able to pause the movie. The blonde doesn’t pay much attention to your frantic actions and proceeds to enter the kitchen while apologizing for being late and not being able to text you with a time frame like she usually did.  

“It’s okay. I know you get busy.” You say shrugging.  

“Would you like to have a drink with me? It’s been a long night.” Clinking of glasses came from the kitchen and you get up to join her, this wasn’t the first time you’d joined her for a glass of wine or two.

“Sure!”  

Tammy caught sight of your outfit for the first time that night as it was previously covered up by your coat on your arrival. Her mouth went dry as she took in your appearance and she was mesmerized, wine glasses all but forgotten for the moment.  

“Tam Tam...Tammy the wine!” You say louder to get her attention as the red liquid continued to overflow the glass making it spill onto the counter top.  

She looked down; eyes wide as she said ‘shit’ under her breath. You rushed over and grabbed the roll of paper towels that she was frantically looking for. After you were both done cleaning up the mess, she looked up at you with flushed cheeks, wiping the sweat from her palms on her shirt. “You look lovely Y/N.”  

It was your time to blush while avoiding her gaze as you thanked her quietly. She offers you the glass that she didn’t overflow while she herself bent down to the glass and slurped the liquid from the rim of the glass until it was low enough to pick up and carry to the living room. With the remote in hand, you were getting ready to quickly switch Carol off until she interrupted you.  

“I’d love to watch a movie. What were you going to watch?”  

Your cheeks get hot once again. “Carol. We don’t have to watch that though we can watch whatever you want.”  

She seems to ponder the title while she sets her glass down on the coffee table. “Oh, I’ve never heard of that movie I’d love to watch it! Go ahead and start it up and I’ll make us some popcorn, how does that sound?”  

Like I’m going to want to crawl into a hole to wallow in my embarrassment. You thought.

“Sounds great!”  

The movie starts playing and you practically shove popcorn in your mouth with every Therese and Carol scene. The next time you try to reach into the bowl you were shocked to feel soft skin against yours, you both pull your hands back slightly before taking turns grabbing more popcorn. After Tammy’s second glass of wine was gone you noticed she sat down closer to you on the couch now right up against your side actually now that the popcorn was gone. The bowl forgotten on the coffee table along with your finished glasses. You were relieved that the wine had helped you relax a bit, the blonde hadn’t seemed to mention anything about the two women interacting on screen which you took as a good sign. The perfume scene was now playing on the screen and you swallowed hard still a little nervous that the woman beside you will question you or comment. Instead, you feel a soft hand land on your knee before she copied Therese from the film, leaning in and nuzzling her nose into the side of your neck under your ear. She breathes in your perfume; it was her favorite you guessed since she typically always commented you when you wore the fruity scent.  

“Hmm...you always smell so wonderful Y/N.” Tammy whispers.  

Thankfully she turns her head and continues watching the movie that is until the Waterloo scene comes on making you shift in your seat a bit. You’re watching a lesbian sex scene with your very straight crush! How could you not squirm? Why did you agree to watch this with her you idiot? Because you can’t say no to her the other side of your brain rationalizes. With the internal questions reeling in your head, you don’t realize that Tammy’s face got closer again until you hear her speak.  

“Are you getting a little hot and bothered sweetheart?” She purrs in your ear making you shiver at the low octave of her voice. “I see the way you look at me Y/N. Do you think about me sweetheart?”  

You swallowed hard and your body betrays you by shivering again by the words being whispering in your ear. The light graze of unbelievably soft lips against your ear lobe.  

“Yes.” You breathe out.  

“Look at me Y/N,” You do as she says, her expression absolutely serious, “if you feel uncomfortable tell me okay?”

You quickly nod your head. This brings a smile to the blonde’s face before she brushes a piece of your Y/H/C hair behind your ear, her thumb caresses your cheek. You subconsciously lean into the touch and release a huge breath that you didn’t realize you were holding. Soft lips ghost over your own testing the waters before coming back for more with more pressure making you moan. You allow your hands to get buried in the golden tresses that you’ve longed so many times to touch bringing her closer to you as you kiss her with the same amount of enthusiasm as she did. Your lips trail along her jawbone to her neck where you kiss and nibble here, a mixture of gasps and moans leave her lips sending heat straight to your core. However, intruding thoughts pushes forward...what about your friendship? Why you? You pull back to look at her.  

“I-I’ve wanted this for so long Tam Tam...are you sure you want me? Y-you don’t want Lou?”  

In response she turns away from you, your stomach sinking for a minute regretting the questions that flowed from your lips until you see she undid her button of her pants.  

“First of all, Lou is with Debbie and no I do not want Lou. Come here Y/N.”  

You move closer to her on the couch until you are right beside her; your knees bumping her legs. She gently grasps your wrist and brings it into the waistband of her pants to cup her core through her underwear. Her thoroughly soaked underwear. You gasp shocked not only at the gesture but also at the fact that she was so wet, another shot of heat goes directly to your own core which you were sure was just as wet as hers. You move your fingers over her core just barely touching, she releases a small moan and grinds into your hand for more pressure.  

“Is that what I do to you?”  

She nods biting her lip and grinding into your hand once more. To Tammy’s dismay you remove your hand before kissing her again, your hands grab the hem of her shirt pulling it off and tossing it aside. If you were being honest you expected nude-colored undergarments, not that you minded because either way this is what you’ve wanted for so long. The subject of your dreams, and fantasies just...Tammy. You were pleasantly surprised to find that her bra was a dusted pink color that looked so beautiful against her pale skin. In an instant after drinking in the sight before you, your lips are all over her pale skin. First her lips, then her neck, from there your lips are everywhere...her collarbone, licking at the parts of exposed breasts that weren’t confined by the bra. Tammy arches her back to which you take this opportunity to reach around and unhook the material, tossing that aside to lay with her discarded shirt.  

Tammy watched in awe as she watched your Y/E/C eyes darken in lust before she felt your soft hands caress her perfectly sized B cup breasts. Just the right size to perfectly fit in your warm hands. She gasped when she felt your tongue flick against her nipple before taking her breast into your mouth, sucking on it before releasing it with a pop. All the while shimmying out of her pants as your hands made quick work of simultaneously pulling them down your hips. The blonde’s honey brown eyes met yours, the desire in them matching yours.  

“Y/N, you are wearing too many clothes sweetheart.”  

The words come out in heavy rasps and you realized you could get used to making Tammy breathless.  

“Can you help me out of them Tam Tam?” You ask with the same rasp to your voice.  

“I thought you’d never ask.” She leans towards you as you turned around for her to unzip your dress. As she did so you felt the coolness of her knuckles pass over the skin of your back causing you to shudder and gasp. The older woman’s mouth found the same spot and slowly kissed from your shoulder blades up to the side of your neck, prior to slowly dragging the top half of your dress over your shoulders and down to your hips. Her hands drag along the same path afterwards it felt like heaven, it was too good to be real. You needed confirmation as her lips then followed the path, she was everywhere.  

“Tell me I’m not dreaming. Tell me this is real.” You breathe out, craning your neck to the left side to give those wonderful lips better access to your pulse point. A nibble to that exact spot made you moan deep in the back of your throat.  

“Oh, Y/N this is very real. Stand up please I need to see you.”  

Tammy watches with hungry eyes as you do what she says and remove your dress revealing your black bra and panties. The primal look in those honey brown eyes is something you had never seen before however; it was definitely something you wanted to see more of. Her hands grab your hips gently and pull you towards her still seated form on the couch, her long slender fingers hook in either side of the waistband of your panties then slowly peeled the fabric down your legs. The older woman noticed your fingers fidget nervously at your sides as if wanting to cover up, which makes her take action by moving to the edge of the cushion and placing a kiss to the skin above your mound.  

The older woman scoots down the couch and lays back flat against the cushions then politely instructing you to straddle her hips. You follow her instructions of then removing your bra and easily follow as her hands press into your back causing your torso to lean forward. Her hands and mouth find your breasts sucking, kissing, and touching the ache in your core grew stronger to the point where you could barely stand it. Tammy must’ve felt your arousal against her hip bone because she grinded her hips up and moaned.  

“Come up here please sweetheart.” It took you a second to realize what her words were meaning exactly until your brain processed exactly where she wanted you. You were still hesitant though, no one had ever done that for you what if you didn’t smell or taste good. Tammy’s hands grabbed both of yours intertwining your fingers, the action made your stomach flutter. “Do you trust me?”  

You instantly nod. You trusted Tammy more than a lot of people in your life. This made you feel confident enough to let go of hands and climb your way up her body finding your balance on your knees straddling the beautiful woman’s face. A kiss is placed against your clit making you jump slightly. Within seconds you felt the older woman’s tongue on your pussy swiping through your folds before coming to suck on your clit. Your legs started to quiver but then you whimper in disappointment when you feel the lips release the sensitive bud.  

“Tammy.” You whine.

“Not yet.” You hear her mutter softly.

“Tammy please.” You whine again this time looking directly into her eyes. This is her weak spot, just like you, she never wanted to deny you anything.  

“Just remember you need to be quiet. Can you do that?”  

“Y-yes...yes just please Tam Tam, let me cum for you.”  

A moan leaves the beautiful lips below you before you feel the long thick tongue attacking your pussy again swiping through your lips once again before entering slowly into your soaking wet core. You had to bite your lip hard in between your teeth to keep your moans and screams at bay, her tongue was so talented as it filled you and hit the sensitive spot inside your walls. Fingers started rubbing your clit in quick, tiny circles, you looked down at her with your mouth open wanting to scream but thankfully no words escaped. Your Y/E/C eyes met hers and that was your undoing. Your thighs spasmed, pussy walls clenching against the warm, talented tongue belonging to the most beautiful woman. It was the most intense orgasm you’d ever had.  

Tammy quickly cleaned up every drop of your arousal moaning at the taste until you came down from your high. Moments later you laid there for a moment in each other's arms breathing heavily, feeling her fingers draw little patterns on your back.  

“Can I taste you Tam Tam?” You asked quietly.  

She smiled like a cat that caught a canary and kissed you passionately before sitting up.  

“Grab the clothes and follow me upstairs sweetheart.”  

#tammy x reader #tammy robinson #ocean's eight #lesbian #imagine #sarah paulson

[thehypercutstudios]

Can we see the transformation scene of Fiona please?

Sure thing, here we go.

*It was a beautiful night at the house of Fiona Demetria the Sea-Diver and she was with her sea monster friend named Anjellica, they are finished watching a deep sea adventure called Fruity Divers*

Anjellica: Wow, that Shark must have been hungry for that Colossal Cherry Tart!

Fiona: Yeah, glad that the size growth worn off before he tries to eat those fishes and made it shrunk to guppy sized!

Anjellica: Guess that the Shark must had the Last Bite! Get it? *she and Fiona starts laughing at that joke, unaware that the full moon is out to play a transformation game. Cut back to the girls*

Fiona: *settles down and turns off tv* Welp Jelly, I guess it is time to go to bed.

Anjellica: Yeah, all of that sea diving and things have tired us out! Also, are we going to see what happens next to the Sea Rangers from the book?

Fiona: Yeah, we should. *looks at the moon* Hey Anjellica, look outside! Isn’t it beautiful?

Anjellica: Yeah, it sure does! I like it when the water reflects the Moon, it makes me think there is a second moon.

Fiona: Oh jelly, you and your ideas- *Then, her lips turn pink*

Anjellica: Hey Mermaid, did you put lipstick on?

Fiona: No, why did you ask? *Anjellica has gotten her a mirror to look at* Huh? Where did that come from? *And sooner or later, her transformation begins as she felt pain like she is starting a werewolf transformation styled transformation* Urgh! My body…It feels weird! *her Hands starts to turn into Humanoid Flippers with her feet gaining webs on her toes* Jelly, what is going on with me?

Anjellica: You are going through a Semi-Corruption.

Fiona: A Semi-What?

Anjellica: A Semi-Corruption. It is a not bad curse that happens during the Months of a Crab named Cancer, it starts on June 21st and ends on July 22nd, think of a werewolf version of a sea monster.

Fiona: *She has grown Anjellica’s Tail* A not bad curse? Why does this hurt? *Anjellica’s Skirt comes out of Fiona’s Pants*

Anjellica: Yeah, it does hurt but you have to get used to it until July 22nd.

*Fiona feels her back being sore as it grows a Backfin with her teeth sharpen, her body is aching from The changing and her clothes turns into a combination of her clothes and Anjellica’s body design, her hair even gains a Pompadour Shape. After her head has physically changed, she catches her breath with her eyes now changed to Brown Cyan, her scleras now yellow and her pupils are now dark pink with her eyelashes having pink tips on it and her hair has a crinkle shape with a pink tip*

Fiona: is it done?

Anjellica: Yup, now you look good as ever!

Fiona: *looks at herself* Woah…I guess you are right, I do look good as ever, but do I have powers?

Anjellica: Yup, you have my Dynamic Dolphin and Jellyjolt Powers, with a hint of a Siren Song. That song can put anyone who hears it into your command.

Fiona: Wow, just like a Siren!

Anjellica: Yup! But since you might be not sleepy from the rush of the transformation, how about we go for a dip?

Fiona: Huh, that seems like a great idea!

*End of Scene*

#Balan Wonderworld #bww #balanposting #Fiona Demetria #Anjellica #Balan Wonderworld Chapter 2 #Semi-Corrupted Form

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter 7

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

Hallowe’en chaos.

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

After trivia night, Emily Prentiss found her world had shifted slightly. 

For the first time in her life, she had a friend group: a consistent presence of not only just Derek and the occasional Hotch, but also Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia and most importantly, Jennifer Jareau. 

Emily noticed it most in the dining hall. Most mornings this semester, she would grab coffee and maybe an apple on her way to class. Now, she was invited to breakfast in the caf. And everyone was also invited, so the six of them began eating not only breakfasts together when their schedules lined up, but soon that melded to include dinners and the odd lunch between classes. While Penelope initiated at the beginning, soon this became a routine. 

While they were all busy, and driven people, all with full course loads, extracurriculars and miscellaneous commitments, they managed to get the whole team together multiple times that week. 

A few times, extra faces joined them. Penelope’s friend from class, Kevin… something, joined for a lunch on Wednesday. He sat shyly as Derek stared him down the entire time. On Thursday, somehow Hotch convinced their Criminology TA, David Rossi, who was part time Masters Student and part time weed dealer, to have lunch with the bribe of them using their guest pass so he could get a free meal. He reluctantly acquiesced, but seemed to enjoy himself. On Friday, the day before Halloween, Emily brought Tara Lewis, the MC from the Trivia night that was two years ahead of her in criminology, they ran into each other in the quad, recognizing each other. This open door policy made these dinners fun, with new faces alongside their team.

This was all new for Emily. Not having friends, that is, because Emily could always muddle along with some friends, and when she was younger she shaped herself easily into whatever the popular kids wanted her to be. No, it was new because it was so easy. The team, as they now called themselves as a shorthand, had fallen together so effortlessly. 

Today was Halloween and they had plans at Dave’s student house, the shabby place that she had ran into JJ, Penelope and Spencer all that time ago. Had it only been a month? She felt like she had known them all for lifetimes by now. 

It happened that way with Derek last year, the whole living together thing sped up that connection. Intimacy comes fast when you brush your teeth next to someone. 

Emily was sitting at her desk, finishing up her makeup. She was aiming for a vampire, which wasn’t hard given her previous fashion aesthetic. 

Yes, Emily did have a goth phase. She will admit it. Not to her new friends just yet, and Derek had been sworn to secrecy. She was now a much more toned down goth, more alt than goth, wearing mostly black but significantly less chains and make up. 

Tonight, she wore her fishnets, a short black dress and a cape that was already tied around her shoulders. She had put a slightly too pale foundation on her face, down her neck, and was currently working on her eye liner. She carefully created elegant swoops over her lashes, coming to sharp points. 

Next, she added a deep red lipstick. Blood red. It was all very spooky. 

Finally, she struggled to test out the fake teeth insert that she had ordered online, slipping it over her top teeth. It fit surprisingly well. 

“Happy Halloween,” she said to herself, testing out whether or not she had a lisp. She did. She didn’t care. It was perfect. 

Emily did a couple of spins in the mirror on the back of the door. Turning off the overhead light, she looked at herself in the glowing light of her string lights. 

She was satisfied. She looked like a hot vampire. 

She grabbed her tote bag, which was filled with six miscellaneous beers and coolers that she had leftover from the last few weeks, knowing that she hated the cheap hoppy beer that Rossi would have at his party. 

Emily was picky about her alcohol.

She glanced out the window, considering taking an extra layer. It was dreary outside, with the sky an eerie green and powerful gusts of wind rattling the window. Emily grabbed her leather jacket. 

Hoisting her bag onto her shoulder and draping her coat over her arm, Emily peeked out of her door, looking out into the hall. In both directions were students in costume; she spotted a Frankenstein, a couple of cats and even someone dressed up in an inflatable t-Rex suit. 

She made sure her door was locked and then walked down the hall to Derek’s room, who was at the very end of the hall, as he had lucked out and got a massive room with lots of windows, across from the showers. 

She opened the door, finding just about all of their friends already there, sneakily drinking out of mugs, cups and water bottles. 

Reid was a zombie, wearing tattered, bloody clothes and a full face of makeup that Emily assumed that Penelope did for him. Sitting next to his computer, queueing music for their pre, was Derek, dressed in a baseball jersey and hat, apparently as a baseball player. This was expected, he wasn’t big on Halloween. Hotch was… a devil? He wore all black and simply had devil horns on his head. Low commitment but the spirit was there. 

Emily hoisted herself onto Derek’s bed and greeted her friends. 

Spencer was sneaking up behind Derek, peeking his head over his shoulder. Derek, at that moment, seemed to be texting, squinting down at his phone. 

“I’m going to eat you!” Spencer yelled into Derek’s ear, causing the larger man to jump to his feet, swatting at the boy in his fright. 

Emily laughed at her friend’s distress. He really didn’t like Halloween that much. 

“Are you ready for a spooktacular evening?” Spence asked, making his voice wobbly as he put on a dramatic effect. He shone an orange, pumpkin patterned flashlight under his chin.

“Of course,” Emily lisped, “In fact, I vant to drink your blood!”

She lunged forward, and Spencer hid from her behind Derek. It was silly but she could tell how much he liked Halloween, he had talked about it all week, and she couldn’t help but adopt a lispy vampire voice to go with her costume. Though the boy was only two year younger than them, his thin frame and wide eyed expression made him seem much younger. 

“Your teeth are excellent,” Spencer pointed out, “Very realistic.”

“I don’t get the hype about Halloween,” Derek said, “Disguises? Pass. Horror movies? No thank you.”

“Booooooo,” Emily protested, “Don’t be a buzzkill, Morgan. Let us have a little fun.”

The door opened again, and Penelope, followed by JJ, joined them. 

“Is my statuesque god of sculpted chocolate thunder being lame again?”

“He barely dressed up,” Emily complained.

“Neither did Hotch!” Derek said, gesturing to Hotch’s devil horns. 

“Hey, at least I bought these at the party store,” Hotch said, “I’m sure both of those are items from your own closet.”

Derek did not confirm or deny this. Emily knew he wore the same get up last year.

“So when should we be there?” JJ asked.

She was dressed as a witch, with an oversized pointy hat perched on top of her head, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders in perfect curls. She wore a purple dress and tall boots to go with her witch look. She and Penelope joined Spencer on the floor, sitting with their backs to Derek’s closet and cracking open a beer for JJ and a fruity cooler for Penelope. 

With large wings, glittery make up and an adorable skirt, Penelope was clearly dressed up as a fairy, which was entirely apropos to who she was as a person. In fact, it was not entirely dissimilar from her normal outfits. 

“Rossi said to come by eight,” Hotch said, “So in party talk he means nine-thirty earliest.”

“It’s, what?” Derek checked the time on his laptop, “Eight fifteen now, so we can pre here for an hour or so then start walking over.”

“Yeah,” Hotch said, “His house is just off campus.”

“The weather is crazy out,” Penelope said, looking out the window. The trees were swaying and the leaves were blowing everywhere.

“We could take a cab?” Emily offered, “I’d rather avoid getting leaves in my hair tonight.”

There were some nods, then they got back to preing, playing a few rounds of King’s Cup to ensure that all of them were sufficiently drunk before they left.

Morgan put on his new playlist, not “For The Boys (and emily)” this time, but one titled “Team Vibez” that Emily had seen him make during their lecture on Thursday. It had a lot of his normal songs, some top hits, but a few fun pop songs that Emily knew he added for Penelope, and even some classic rock for Hotch. 

At this point, Emily was feeling buzzed. She had two cans discarded in the bin, both hosting lipstick prints from her dark red vampire lips. 

JJ was currently chatting with Hotch about some student government scandal that was happening at the time. While politics gave Emily the heebie jeebies, she had reluctantly joined the Criminology Academic Society. It would give her a leg up on grad school applications, for one, and so far, even as a low-level member, she found she was actually making a difference for her classmates. This meant that Emily, despite her deepest urges to not touch political scandals with a ten foot pole, knew exactly what they were talking about.

As the two discussed the student politicians—there were some minor accusations of nepotism, embezzlement and coverups by the undergraduate executive—Emily looked at JJ. Her brows were furrowed in concentration and she was gesturing wildly with her hands as she talked about how badly they were handling their crisis communications. 

Suddenly, interrupting this discussion, their phones blasted out a siren, followed by a chorus of the same robot voice announcing an emergency alert.

“National Weather Service: TORNADO WARNING in this area until 10:15PM EST,” the robot announced, “Take shelter now in a basement or an interior room on the lowest floor of a sturdy building.”

They looked at Derek’s three, large windows, and watched as large gusts of wind sent leaves barrelling down the street.

“If you are outdoors, in a mobile home, or in a vehicle, move to the closest substantial shelter and protect yourself from flying debris,” it continued. “Check media.”

Then, their phones went silent and Derek’s music continued unheeded. 

“A tornado?!” Penelope said, “Here?”

The window rattled. Derek stood up and hesitantly moved away from it. 

Penelope grabbed Derek’s computer, her hands moving in a flurry.

“Ok so,” she began, “from what I can gather from the good old Internet, we’re in a region of extreme winds and the meteorologists are thinking that funnel clouds and tornados are possible this evening.”

“So much for Halloween,” Spencer whined. 

“Party is definitely off,” Hotch said. “We should probably take shelter. Is there a basement here?”

“There’s the laundry room?” Emily said. 

Adrenaline started pulsing through her veins. She’d been through some severe weather before in her life but never a tornado, nor did she expect one. They were in the north east, nowhere near tornado Alley. 

They all stood, making a move for the basement, when the lights flickered once, twice, then shut off entirely. Rain begin to fall down, hard onto the windows, and the boom of thunder filled their ears. 

“Shit,” Emily said. “Anyone have a candle?”

 ---

Ten minutes later, the six of them were seated in a circle, on the strange carpeted floor of the laundry room, with the severe weather making the wind howl outside. Between JJ’s two candles, which were very against the rules, and Derek’s laptop screen, they had enough ambient light to see, but it was all very spooky. 

The room smelled damp and earthy, with a strange combination of laundry soaps and dryer sheets. They had to move a spare sock to form a circle around the candle. It looked very much like a séance, so that did fit the Halloween spirit. 

“Well,” Hotch said, “At least this is festive.”

Derek was still queuing his music, filling the silence with his DJ skills. 

“Aren’t you worried about your battery life?” JJ asked, “What if the power doesn’t come on in the morning.”

“Then I have a great excuse not to finish my essay,” Derek said with a shrug.

“Fair point.”

“Anyways,” Derek continued, “No sense giving up on our party. We have drinks, we have music and thanks to JJ we have illegal candles.”

“They’re not illegal!” She protested, “Simply very against res rules! I like lighting a candle while I study.”

“It’s lucky that there was no one left in res because of Halloween,” Emily said. “Or we would've had a bunch of party crashers.”

“This is better,” Penelope, “Team bonding!”

“What should we play?” Hotch said, “we don’t really have much to work with.”

“This is all very high school,” Penelope said, “A couple of kids, in a basement, sitting in a circle on the floor…”

“With a tornado tearing through our city…” Emily quipped. 

“Statistically speaking for this region we are more likely to experience dangerous winds rather than an actual tornado. Worst case is that fallen tree branches hit power lines, or fall onto houses or cars.”

“So you’re saying that we’re in the worst case scenario right now?” Hotch said. 

“Yup.”

Hotch frowned. 

“How about we play truth or dare?” Penelope changed the subject.

“I’m down,” Emily said, surprising herself. “If everyone else is.”

“I’ve never played!” Spencer said.

“Never?” JJ asked. “Not at any sleepovers.”

“I didn’t get invited to many sleepovers.”

“Neither did I,” Emily admitted, “Some parties I went to played it too.”

JJ looked at her, there was a brief look of sympathy, and then understanding on her face. Emily made note of that. 

“I guess we’re playing,” Hotch murmured. 

“Derek,” Penelope purred, “Mon cher, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he said defiantly, bracing himself with a swig of whatever was in his water bottle.

“Who is the prettiest fairy in the basement?”

“You, of course,” he replied with a wink. 

“Gross!” Emily exclaimed, “Truth or dare is not for flirting. Hotch: truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he said with a quirk of his eyebrow. 

“Show us the… most embarrassing photo of you on your phone.” 

He frowned. 

“I don’t take many photos.”

“Try,” Emily urged with a laugh. 

He fumbled in his pockets, grabbing his phone and scrolling through his photo album for a few minutes. 

“It’s from high school,” Hotch said with a sigh. “I was in a play.”

He held up a photo of him in a pirates outfit, he looked smaller, younger than he did now. His hair was shaggy and his face rounder. He was pointing the sword at the camera. 

“Who’s the girl?” JJ asked. 

“My girlfriend Hayley,” Hotch said, “we’re long distance now. I joined the play to get close to her and it seems to have worked.”

“That’s not embarrassing,” Penelope said, “that’s adorable. Try again.”

“Oh I have one!” Emily said, pulling up her Snapchat memories. She had a photo of him conked out in a lecture last year. His mouth was open and his head conked back, fast asleep in a dimly lit lecture hall. Emily had taken a series of these photos before waking him up. 

“Now that’s what i'm talking about,” Derek said. 

“How can you fall asleep during lecture?” Spencer asked in horror. 

Hotch shrugged. 

“I was tired, we had a game the night before,” Hotch said. “Morgan: Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I don’t know any dares,” Hotch looked around for help. 

“He could play the tinder game?” Emily said. 

“What tinder game?” 

“Oh that’s a good one,” JJ said, “Derek opens tinder and we randomly tell him which way to swipe and see who he matches with.”

Derek groaned. Opening the app and placing it down onto the carpet. 

“Right!” JJ said to start. 

A match.  

“Left?” Hotch said, it came out more like a question. 

“Right,” Emily said. Another match. 

Left, right, left, right. New message from a recent match, left, right, right, right, right. Derek looked on in horror. 

“Ok I think he’s had enough,” Emily said with a laugh. 

“Derek it’s your turn,” Penelope said. 

Derek sighs in relief. 

“Uhhh, Pretty Boy,” he turned to Reid. Thinking for a moment. “Have you ever smoked before?”

“Smoked what? Cannabis, tobacco? Something else. Be specific.”

Emily’s jaw dropped. 

“I dunno man,” Derek said, “I was talking about weed but go off.” 

“I have.”

“How?” JJ said, “You’re like sixteen! I haven’t even smoked weed.”

“Me neither,” Penelope said, sounding outright disappointed. 

“I believe it,” Hotch said. “He has a Juul.”

“Seventeen now,” Spencer said. “Kids in my first degree found it funny when I performed actions that they deemed mature for my young age. 

“What?” Penelope said. “But you were sixteen last week.”

“It was my birthday on Wednesday,” he said. 

“And we missed it?” JJ asked.

Emily decided not to inform them that her birthday had been a few weeks back as well. 

“It’s no big deal,” Spencer said, “I don’t really do birthdays.”

“Well I do birthdays!” Penelope said, “and you’re getting one.”

Emily could see the gears turning in Penelope’s head.

“Wait you haven’t smoked weed?” Emily said. She didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but hell, it was college. 

“I’ve never been offered,” Penelope said with a shrug.

“You have a Juul, Spence?” JJ said. 

He shrugged. 

“Anyways,” Derek said with a laugh. “Reid it’s your turn to ask.”

And the game continued roughly the same for a few more rounds, with some truths, some dares, a lot of drinking and a fair amount of laughter. 

Emily learned that JJ likes some angry rock music when she’s upset, that Penelope has committed several federal crimes, that Reid used to coach basketball in high school, that Derek has been posing nude for art classes on campus for extra cash, and that Hotch has never successfully completed a word search in his life. 

The dares were limited, because frankly they were basically hiding out in a basement during what might actually be a tornado. Emily was dared to do an impression of Hotch, which wasn’t good and involved a lot of eyebrows and frowning. After, JJ was forced to leave her snapchat at Garcia’s mercy for the entire night. Other dares involved dancing, attempting gymnastics, and seeing whether or not Reid fit into the dryer. He did. 

The game finally had played out when it was Hotch’s turn again to ask. 

“JJ, what’s your greatest fear?” Hotch asked.

“Mr. Serious over here,” Derek said with a whistle. 

“Probably the woods,” JJ replied. 

“Why?” Spencer asked, tilting his head. 

JJ grabbed a candle, holding it under her chin much like Reid did earlier. 

“I used to be a camp counselor, when I was a teenager. In the woods up in Vermont.”

She leaned forward. Emily didn’t know she worked at a camp. It made sense. She pictured her in a camp t-shirt making a bracelet. It suited her. 

“I had the night shift. I tucked the girls in, turned off the lights. The typical drill. Everything seemed fine; all the kids were asleep. You know, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.”

Another dramatic pause, both Spencer and Derek had leaned in, invested in the story. 

“Until I noticed there was some blood, on the hallway floor. So, I followed the blood trail out to the camp director’s cabin, walked up to his bed and he was just lying there, underneath his covers. Dead!”

Penelope gasped. The room was silent.

“Someone stabbed him. I ran out of there so fast, out the door, down the hall. I just remember it… being really dark. Once I got to the door, there was another counselor there. I guess she heard me scream.”

JJ set the candle down, looking at the flame flicker. This couldn’t be real, Emily thought, this had to be a joke. 

“They caught the caretaker on his way to town, I guess he still had the knife on him.” 

“Anyway, I guess that’s probably when I decided I didn’t like the woods.”

“You’re serious?!” Derek demanded. 

“No!” JJ said with a laugh. “You bought that! I’m kidding!”

“So are you afraid of the woods?” Emily asked.

“Yeah,” JJ said, “They’re spooky I don’t know.”

They all laughed at that. 

Emily glanced at her phone; they had been down here for almost two hours. According to Penelope’s intermittent checks on the status of the extreme weather, most of the city was experiencing black outs, but there was no sign of an actual tornado. They were still supposed to take shelter for the next hour or so, just in case. 

In this time, Emily was close to five drinks in, with only one left in the basement. A growing pile of empties had built up around them, and Hotch had pulled out a small bottle of whiskey in addition to his beer, passing it around the circle. Having recently turned 17, the group had officially decided to give Spencer a beer, which he nursed slowly, wincing at the bitter taste. 

“Emily,” JJ turned to her and looked mischievous. “Truth or dare?”

She felt her heart flutter.

“Truth.”

“Hmmm…” JJ said, “Where was the weirdest place you’ve ever had sex?”

Emily found herself blushing at the memory.

“Oh god,” Emily buried her face in her hands. “IHOP parking lot.”

“What?”  

Emily nodded, downing the last of her beer. 

“No further questions,” she proclaimed as she opened her next drink.

“I think that should conclude Truth or Dare,” Penelope said, “It’s time for another sleepover classic, since some of you are sleepover virgins.”

She grabbed Derek’s water bottle, plopping it down onto the carpet and spun it. 

“Spin the bottle!”

Emily went pale. What was Penelope doing? She stared into her drunk, not daring to look at anyone else. 

“That doesn’t seem very sanitary,” Spencer said.

“Boo,” Penelope, “You’re no fun. It’s a classic! And we’re all friends, it’ll be fun. Hotch you spin first.”

He looked horrified, but took the bottle. There was no getting in the way of Penelope Garcia’s will.

“The rules are simply: kiss or you have to finish your drink?,” Penelope said, “Got it?

Hotch nodded, he spun the bottle. It went around the circle, once, twice, three times, then landed clearly on himself.

“How do I kiss myself?” he said, deadpan. 

“Drink!” Emily told him. He downed his last beer.

Derek spun next, rubbing his hands together nervously as it went around and around. It landed on Penelope.

“Come here, chocolate thunder!” 

Derek took his baseball cap off, turning it backwards. Penelope pulled his shirt towards her, tugging on him as their lips met. They both closed their eyes, she could hear JJ giggle at the sight.

“Was that the only reason we’re playing this?” Spencer asked, “So that you could kiss Morgan?”

“Maybe?” Penelope, “What’s it to you, boy-genius!” 

He put his hands up in surrender, it was his turn. 

He spun the bottle awkwardly, so that it rocked back and forth in addition to spinning. It went around once before landing on JJ.

Emily wasn’t sure what to think about that. On one hand, he was just a kid and the kiss wouldn't be anything, but on the other hand, Emily was jealous that she didn’t get a kiss. 

“Come here, Spence!” JJ said, making a grabbing motion at the boy and laughing. 

He leaned in with his eyes closed, Emily wouldn’t be surprised if he told them he hadn’t done even this before. JJ put a hand on his face, turned it gently, and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Derek clapped him on the back and made a comment about it being ‘pretty boy’s first kiss,’ and Reid simply sat and blushed as he busied himself with drinking some of his beer. 

Emily’s turn. She tried not to cross her fingers and pray for JJ, but it happened anyways. It landed on Derek. Emily sighed dramatically.

“Ewwww,” Emily mock protested.

“Come on, princess,” Derek jeered, “You know you want some of this!”

He lifted his t-shirt up and rubbed his hands down his abs.

“Put that away sir!” she covered her eyes. 

“Oh come here,” she said, leaning in. They kissed on the lips with a loud ‘mwah!’ noise. 

“That was cute,” Hotch commented.

Emily fake gagged, while Morgan tried to wipe her red lipstick off him. 

Last was JJ in the circle. She spun it casually. Emily tried to read her facial expression, wondering if JJ, too, wanted it to land on Emily.

See, Emily was starting to believe that JJ liked her back. She was single, and for all Emily knew, she was straight, but the more Emily got to know her, she got queer vibes. She played soccer! Her nails were short and- 

Emily couldn’t think of any other things that moment, as she was currently freaking out about the spin the bottle situation that was presently unfolding. 

The moment in the bathroom, Emily thought, that was something! The way she looked at Emily… she was sure that she felt JJ’s eyes on her linger. 

The bottle landed on Emily. They had to kiss. It was part of the game.

Holy shit. 

Penelope squealed and Emily could feel the entire room's eyes on her, except JJ whose eyes were on the ground. 

Emily could hear her heartbeat. She desperately wanted to kiss JJ but did she want to under these circumstances? For a dare? 

JJ looked at her. Blue eyes staring into brown. She could hear her blood rushing in her ears. She found herself leaning forward, only slightly. JJ did the same. Her lips parted, her eyes hungry.

Emily shifted forward, she sat with her legs tucked under her, bracing herself with her arms. JJ was cross legged, her arms free to grab at her face. JJ’s hands tugged her forward.

Their lips met. 

It was uncertain, chaste, soft. Then, JJ’s hands pulled her closer. They were pressed together, heads tilting so that their noses didn’t bump.

Jennifer Jareau was kissing her. They were kissing!

Emily’s brain short circuited. JJ filled her senses; the blonde’s vanilla perfume and soft lips and the taste of alcohol on her tongue. 

Oh god, her tongue. 

Emily did not want it to end. Their mouths opened and their tongues slid against each other, feeling so perfect and sending Emily’s blood racing away from her face and noticeably south. 

JJ was incredibly hot and Emily desperately wanted to do more than kiss her. Or kiss her like this forever. Her ams were caressing her cheek and tangled in Emily’s hair, pulling her closer.

The lights flickered on; they had power, again. JJ pulled away from her, sharply. 

Emily sat back, sitting up straight. The room was luckily too distracted by the lights to notice how out of breath Emily was. Or that they probably shouldn’t have passionately made out on a dare. 

JJ wouldn’t meet her eye, but Emily could see her own lipstick on the other girl’s lips. Emily blinked at the bright light, started by the sudden return of the electricity after she had become accustomed to the dim light of the candle.

“What impressive timing,” Spencer murmured.

Taking the lights as a good sign, Penelope checked on the emergency alert. It was over and they were safe to go back upstairs. She found out that a few downed trees were the cause of the outage and there was never an actual tornado. No one was hurt but there was a bit of property damage throughout the city. 

Without the atmosphere of the candle light, and the likelihood of a RA doing a check of the building, they decided that that was the end of their party. They gathered up their empties, and blew out the candles.

As they finished up cleaning, all making sure not to leave any trace of their illicit affairs, Emily tried to quell her racing heart and blushing face, completely unable to look anyone in the eye. 

The door opened, their RA was there. Erin Strauss. She was a hardass.

“What are you all doing down here?” she demanded. 

They all stood, stock still, jaws dropped, smelling of alcohol and clutching clinking tote bags. 

“Erin,” Emily said, trying to sound as sober as possible despite the five plus drinks in her system, “We were simply following the directions on the emergency alert.”

“Yes! It said to seek shelter from the storm and the basement seemed the best for that,” Penelope said. 

“Uhuh,” Erin said, “What’s in the bag?”

The bag clinked. 

“Oh just some garbage,” Emily said, lying through her teeth. “We had some snacks.”

“Sure,” Erin said, not believing them. 

Emily tried not to sway, but did not feel steady on her feet. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or her recent kiss with JJ.

For a second, Emily was sure that their RA would bust their asses, but the girl simply sighed and told them to go to bed, muttering about how dealing with non-existent tornadoes wasn't part of her job.  

The six of them scurried upstairs, all freaked out about their near-miss with a write-up.

Reid disappeared up to his room, then JJ and Penelope walked down the hall to their’s. Emily slipped into Derek’s avoiding Erin Strauss’ watchful eye, helping Derek steady a very drunk Hotch.

Hotch, who had probably had a little too much of that whiskey, stumbled into Derek’s room and decided to sleep on the floor. Emily placed a water bottle next to him, and placed him in recovery position, glad for the distraction from the blush that refused to leave her face or the lingering taste of JJ on her lips. 

She walked slowly down the hall back to her own room, the events of that evening playing back in her mind. She threw herself onto her bed, dazed by her situation. 

Emily fell asleep with vampire make up still on her face that night. 

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds tv #jemily #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #gravelyhumerus cm college au #prentiss x jj #jemily cm #fanfiction #fanfic #criminal minds fic #my post #my writing #this is such a chaotic chapter!!! #enjoy!!!!

[nsheetee]

Makizushi | pt 1

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Chenle x Reader Genre: Suggestive  Length: 3.4k Warnings: female reader, a few make out scenes, Chenle is just a big tease throughout this whole thing, mentions of alcohol Summary: Renjun invites his close friends and you, his sister, to celebrate his birthday at a high-end sushi restaurant. Just one thing: you’re dating Renjun’s friend, Chenle. And another thing: no one can know.

◉◉◉ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ◉◉◉

Chenle checks himself out in the mirror of Renjun’s foyer, fixing the wrist cuffs on his suit jacket and putting pieces of his brown hair in the perfect spot. He has a clear view of what’s happening behind him through the reflection: the birthday boy is pulling apart Haechan’s gift that he says he absolutely has to open now, wrapping paper flying over Renjun’s head as he digs in.

“A flask?” Renjun deadpans and turns to a hoping Haechan, “Why did you get me a flask?”

“Remember the last time we went out for a fancy dinner like this? You saw that older guy with a flask and thought he looked cool, so I got you one, too!” Haechan explains but when he notices Renjun’s frown, his shoulders slump. “If you don’t like it, I’ll happily use it instead.”

“No, that’s not what I meant…” As Renjun and Haechan argue over the new flask and Jeno and Jaemin take some pictures together in the other corner of the room, Chenle takes a moment to slip away from the scene. He quietly scurries up the carpeted staircase and across the dark hallway to lean against the wooden frame of your bedroom door.

The reason everyone is waiting downstairs is because you haven’t finished getting ready, on account of Renjun telling you about tonight’s dinner plans very last minute. You texted Chenle in dismay hours ago, asking why he didn’t tell you of Renjun’s plans for tonight, but Chenle could only laugh at how flustered you became at the thought of getting ready for your brother’s dinner in only two hours.

Chenle has only seen the back of your head from his spot at your bedroom door, but he can already tell you look stunning. Something brews in his chest, a sense of pride and gratefulness brought up by how you manage to look so good, but Chenle knows he would be proud to call you his whether you’re the prettiest girl in the restaurant tonight or not. The feeling goes away as Chenle thinks some more on his thoughts.

He wishes he could call you his.

Freely, without restrictions, without having to worry what your brother or any mutual friends would think. These are the reasons you told Chenle that you can’t let your relationship out into the open yet. Chenle respects your wishes, but every secret date that passes and every time Chenle sneaks in through your window for quiet midnight cuddles makes him more and more frustrated.

You move in your seat at the mirror, catching Chenle’s attention. He doesn’t think you’ve seen him yet, and his thoughts are confirmed when you speak up.

“Renjun, come help me clip this in my hair, will you?” Chenle smiles at your cute struggling, walking up behind you and taking the metal flower clip out of your hand and helping you slide it into your hair. You’re startled to see Chenle’s reflection appear in the mirror, your heart thumps faster as you hear Renjun’s and Haechan’s argument get louder downstairs, a reminder of their presence.

“What are you doing up here? You’re gonna get us caught.” As soon as the words leave your lips, you completely forget about them. Chenle’s nimble fingers, strong from years of playing piano but oh-so-gentle when they caress your warm skin, run down your hair and tickle the back of your neck, then push your robe away to tenderly slide down your shoulder. You shiver from his loving touches and Chenle can tell how much he affects you when he leans down and whispers into your ear.

“You look amazing.” Despite the glaze that’s glossed over your mind, you still manage to roll your eyes and swat his hand away, standing up to face him.

“I’m still in my bathrobe, what do you mean I look amazing?”

“You mean, you aren’t going to a five Michelin star restaurant dressed like this?” Chenle teases, motioning down to your bright yellow robe and panda slippers, “Man, I thought you looked hot now. If you change into something better, I’ll be a dead man.”

“Then go dig your grave.” You playfully push his chest and walk around him, grabbing your actual dress for tonight. You motion for Chenle to step out of the room, but he pouts.

“I don’t want to go.”

“You’re not staying here while I change.” Chenle’s pout deepens and he clasps his hands together in front of his chest. You shake your head at his begging, walking to your bathroom. Before you fully enter, you turn around and point to your bed, signaling Chenle to sit down.

“Yes, ma’am.” He playfully salutes you and plops down on your bed. He hears you shuffling around in the bathroom for a while, and spends his time making blanket angels in your duvet and resting his head on your fluffy pillow; it smells like your shampoo and Chenle shamelessly digs his nose further into your sheets. When the bathroom door opens, Chenle sits up and his breath is immediately sucked from his chest.

You stand in front of him, your robe draped over your arm and your slippers dangling on your fingers. Chenle’s jaw drops at how your dress grips your waist, a bit jealous that this piece of fabric can do what he can’t tonight. The dress glimmers subtly in the lighting of your room, and it shows off your neckline and collarbone, one of Chenle’s favourite physical features about you.

He stands up and strides to you in two big steps, pushing the robe off your arm and precariously throwing the slippers somewhere behind him. You’re about to ask what he’s doing, but he wraps an arm around your waist, his other hand coming up to steady your jaw and his lips meet yours before you can take a proper breath.

Chenle’s force stumbles both of you into the doorframe of the bathroom, pressing your back against it while holding your hips against his own. Your forearms come up to rest on his shoulders while your fingers dance on the sliver of neck that his suit jacket exposes. Your fingertips against his skin make him shiver, and his lips press harder onto yours to somehow relieve himself of the growing adoration for you in his chest. The hand that holds your cheek lightly glides down to move the hair around your neck away and his lips follow to press kisses to the skin he exposed.

“Chenle…” You mumble, “We need to go, or else everyone will start to wonder where we are.” The words tumble from your lips, but you don’t really mean them.

“Can’t we just stay here? I’d love to do this all night.” He says between pecks, moving to where some of your cleavage is exposed by your dress. He nips at the soft skin slightly, not enough to leave any marks but enough to create a kindle of want in your body, dizzying your mind and making you grip onto his collar.

“Y/N! Is Chenle up there with you?” You both jump away as if you shocked each other, looking at the door in slight fear of being walked in on, even though Renjun’s voice is clearly coming from downstairs.

“Yeah, he’s using the bathroom.” You yell back, slipping out of Chenle’s hold, but grabbing onto his hand and silently pulling him to your vanity. You hand him a makeup wipe and shoo him out of your room; he leaves, but not until he uses the hand that’s placed in yours to pull you into him once again and give you a big, fat kiss on your cheek. You sit down at your chair to fix the mess Chenle made to your lipstick and also calm your heart down from his fervent kisses.

◉◉◉

You try not to look at Chenle on the drive to the restaurant, opting to sit in the front passenger seat next to Renjun, who’s driving everyone in one car to the restaurant. You can feel Chenle’s eyes all over you-- from the second you walk downstairs, to the car, and even when you walk from the valet to your reserved table.

You try not to give him too much attention, not wanting to spoil Renjun’s night in anyway. Although it does make you excited to see Chenle reacting to you like this, you fight an internal battle on whether to tease back or to keep your hands to yourself.

Your table is circular and intricately set up; Chenle is seated to your right and on your left is Jeno, on his left is Jaemin, and then Renjun, and Haechan. The waiter gives out the menus and asks for your drink order; you’re surprised when all of your friends opt for something non-alcoholic.

“Are you guys planning on doing anything after this?” You ask after the waiter leaves, not looking at your menu yet.

“No, I don’t think so. Why?” Renjun looks at his friends who are too focused on picking their meal for tonight, no doubt skipping over the price tag since Renjun is paying-- not by his own choice, of course.

“None of you ordered alcohol.” You point out.

“Are you calling us alcoholics?” Haechan speaks up, crisply closing his leather-bound menu and raising an eyebrow at you.

“No, but you all love alcohol, and today is a celebration.” You can’t help but sound suspicious. Haechan lets out a small smirk and shares a knowing gaze with Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, who all either have a dumb smile on their face or try to conceal their dissapointed expression with their hand. Haechan looks over his right shoulder, then his left, and pulls his suit jacket away from his chest, taking out a flask and flashing it at you.

“Is that Renjun’s birthday present from earlier?” Chenle asks from next to you in a whisper.

“I told him not to bring it here. Did he listen? No.” Renjun whispers angrily over the table, rolling his eyes when Haechan nudges his shoulder.

“This place only serves fruity cocktails, we need something stronger.”

“So, what did you bring?” Jaemin asks.

“Tequila.” Everyone’s eyes widen when Jaemin reaches over the table and snatches the flask, quickly downing a long gulp and passing it to Jeno. The flask makes its way around the table, even Renjun takes a small sip after he loses to a round of rock, paper, scissors with Jaemin. When the flask comes to you, you pass, but are surprised when Chenle also skips and hands the flask back to Haechan.

“Are you not drinking?”

“Someone has to drive us all home.” He explains, tilting his chin up as if he knows he has impressed you with his “maturity.”

Admittedly, he has.

Chenle knows you like it when he shows some responsibility, and even if it’s by being the designated driver for one night, he’ll do it if it means you’ll adore him a little bit more. The waiter shows up at your table with your drinks, the flask is promptly hidden under the table, and everyone gives their order. Before you know it, the waiter is looking at you for your answer, and you realize you haven’t even opened your menu in the past ten minutes.

“We’ll share a plate of makizushi, the chef’s choice.” Chenle orders for both of you and hands the menus to the waiter. You don’t mind; Chenle’s ordered for you many times before when you go out for dates, and you usually agree with his taste in food. When the waiter walks away, you notice how everyone is looking between you and Chenle skeptically.

“Chenle’s sharing his food… with Y/N?” Jeno slowly puts together, and you pray that he stops his thought process there before he can come to any real conclusions.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to hold up the waiter. Was that okay?” Chenle explains, and everyone turns to look at you when his question hangs in the air over the table. You open your mouth and close it, looking identical to the fish in the large aquarium that takes up the left side of the restaurant.

“Yeah, it’s whatever.” You manage to breath out. Jeno, Jaemin, and Haechan turn back to their conversation, along with taking secret swigs of the flask. However, Renjun sends you a look, something between suspicion and curiosity, and you send him back a small smile to ward off any mixed feelings. He eventually goes back to enjoying his night along with everyone else.

The food is served, plates of sushi and several side dishes cover every inch of your table. The food is colorful and presented at the highest quality you could imagine, making your jaws drop and let out some “woah’s” at the sight. You dig in right away, the table going quiet for a few minutes as everyone takes a moment to indulge in the various flavors. As the night progresses, the opposite side of the table becomes visibly drunk, laughing loudly with no restraint and eventually not caring if anyone sees them with the flask.

You and Chenle sit closer together to be able to share the same plate; to you it feels natural, something you do every time you and Chenle go out to eat food. You have to keep reminding yourself that the other four guys around the table have no idea of the connection between you and Chenle, and you try to keep your distance. Chenle notices your tense figure, and decides you need to just relax a bit. Your brother and his friends are drunk enough to not bother you two anymore.

Your soul almost leaves your body when you feel Chenle’s large hand come down onto your knee underneath the table. You try to keep your reaction to a minimum, but you can’t help but send him a wide-eyed glance. He doesn’t look towards your direction, continuing to eat as if nothing is happening under the silk table cloth. You shake your knee in hope of knocking his hand off, but he only moves his hand up and down your thigh, his pinky finger ghosting underneath the hem of your dress.

“What are you doing?” You mouth to him, hoping to not attract any attention. He sends you a devious smile, and you know he wants to get you riled up.

“Are you guys okay?” Renjun’s voice startles both of you and you turn to face him.

“Yeah, we’re fine. Why?” Chenle answers for you, his continuance turning saintly rather than the playful spark his eyes held before.

Chenle’s hand squeezes the skin of your thigh in assurance, and you suddenly get hotter, squirming in your chair. This time it’s not because of the possibility of your friends finding out about your secret relationship, but because of Chenle’s touch. His warm hand feels at home on your skin, and you’re reminded of how he pushed you against your doorframe just a few hours ago, that same hand moving your hair away to press the most sinful kisses to your neck and chest.

The dirty thoughts in your mind make you slightly dizzy, your heartbeat in your throat and your thighs squeezing together before you shoot out of your seat, standing straight up. Chenle lets go of you, now a worried expression on his face, along with Renjun’s curious gaze.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, really. I’m just going to use the restroom.” You keep your voice steady, a surprise to you since you feel like a wobbly mess at the moment. You make your way to the restrooms, walking into one of the rooms and locking the door behind you. You take only a moment to notice how nice the bathroom looks; not just a toilet and sink, but a small lounge area in the corner with a loveseat and a chair. It feels like you’re in a living room rather than a restroom. You walk up to the marble counter sink, a pitcher of cold water sits in the corner and you fill up a cup, taking a long gulp to calm you down.

The cold water should extinguish the fire in your chest, but your mind still runs wild with thoughts of your boyfriend and his wandering hands. You take a moment to curse at him for getting you so riled up over something as small as just a few touches under a table. Maybe it’s the exhilarating feeling of staying secret, of being covert in front of the people you’re usually so open with-- it excites you.

Before you can think any further, a knock on the restroom door echoes through the room. You’re about to tell the person to go away, but they speak up first.

“It’s Chenle.” You hear, and whatever fire the water extinguished earlier is back and burning brighter than ever. You set down the glass, stride over to the door, and open it to reveal your boyfriend on the other side.

“Are you okay?” He asks, looking genuinely worried, glancing up and down at you, “I’m sorry if I went too far, I promise-” You don’t let him finish, forcefully grabbing the lapel of his suit jacket and pulling him into the bathroom. The door shuts and you push Chenle’s back against it, not letting him utter another word as your lips meet in a mess of sloppy kisses.

You don’t waste time, pulling his jacket over his shoulder, down his long arms and throwing it somewhere behind you. Your lips don’t stop moving against his, you don’t allow either of you to breath. Your hands grip his shirt collar and you press against him more, just wanting to feel him. His lovely hands, the ones that were causing you so much turmoil, finally wrap around you after a moment of hesitation. They glide over your waist and hips, the material of your dress pushing up at Chenle’s curious wandering.

When you do finally pull away, it’s when you feel like you might just pass out from lack of oxygen, and you both breath heavily. You don’t separate too far from each other, your breaths mingling in the small space between you both.

“This is not what I was expecting when I came to see if you’re okay.” Chenle admits, a sly smile on his lips that lets you know he doesn’t mind the unexpected turn of events. You slowly lean in, your gaze set on his lips until you join in another kiss. This time, it’s slower, a bit more loving and a bit less frantic. Your lips blissfully press together over and over again; you’re lost in a daze of Chenle, the scent of his cologne and the taste of makizushi on his tongue, that you don’t even realize he’s leading you backwards across the tile floor. When you feel the back of your legs hit the loveseat, you pull away and take a deep breath.

“Did I tell you how handsome you look tonight?” You ask Chenle in a low whisper, as if to not disturb the quiet murmur of voices barely bleeding in from outside the restroom.

“No…” Chenle laughs, a bit confused by your sudden question. You take the time to run your hands through his light brown hair, trail your fingers gently along his jaw and neck, your head leans in to press some quick kisses to the skin there. Chenle is reminded of earlier tonight when he saw you in your dress for the first time, how he did these same actions to you at that time, and wonders if he makes you feel as good as you’re making him feel right now.

Chenle barely realizes how your hands grip his sturdy shoulders, effortlessly pushing him down onto the loveseat. His eyes flutter open just in time to see you place your knees on either side of him, finding a comfortable seat on his lap. His hands naturally come up to run along your thighs, more of your skin exposed now that your dress is riding up. He leans his head back in pleasure to let you kiss from the base of his neck, all the way up to his jaw, and to his ear.

“I love how good you look in a suit.” You whisper, and Chenle can’t take it any longer, forcefully grabbing the back of your neck with one hand and pushing you into another heated kiss. His other arm wraps around your waist, pushing your body into his. He groans at the friction between you and him, and you whine at how stubborn the buttons of his dress shirt are to open. Neither of you hear the knock on the door, or Renjun’s voice from outside asking if you’re okay. But you definitely hear the bathroom door opening, your brother and your friends standing at the entrance of the bathroom with slack jaws.

“What in the hell is going on here?”

#chenle #chenle fluff #nct fluff #nct imagines #chenle imagines #nct chenle #nct dream chenle #nct dream fluff #chenle scenarios #chenle fic #nct scenasrios #nct fics #nct oneshot #nct dream au #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream fic #chenle x reader

[reggiesmolina]

when she talks (i hear the revolution)

And look, she isn't dumb, okay? She knows what she looks like, what with the small chest and broad shoulders, how she looks with her short hair she asked Alex to cut with his razor last summer after a fight with her mom, the men's flannels with baggy jeans. She's known since Andrew Williams from her 8th grade History class told their entire grade she was a dyke after he catched her looking at an old Playboy magazine behind the bleachers. She knows.

or

The one where Bobby and Reggie are lesbians and maybe Bobby should love herself a little bit more.

Read on AO3

for eris (@molinajulie) , who didn't ask for this but whom i love dearly. thanks for introducing me to this show and loving bobby as much as i do.

Bobbi's uncomfortable the moment she gets inside the club.

This isn't their usual scene and although it's not that different from the grimy, underground places Sunset Curve usually plays at, it's new enough that it has her constantly looking over her shoulder and jumping a little bit every time someone stands just a little too close.

After their last bassist, some dude named Austin who was just mediocre enough and a little too much of an asshole to Alex for anyone to truly care about him, had quit the band two weeks ago, Luke had insisted they do the club rounds, check what the L.A. music scene had to offer and hopefully snatch a new bassist for themselves before their next gig.

They've not been successful, so far. There's lots of talented bassists, this is L.A. after all, but they're either too enamored of their own bands to give their offer a chance, aren't into Sunset Curve's sound, or just straight up don't like the idea of being in a band with a woman. Bobbi doesn't care about men's comfort enough for her to be offended when they give her a once over with a frowned brow and ask Luke if he's sure that's the kind of band he wants to be part of, but when it's the girls who do it... Well that just hurts.

And look, she isn't dumb, okay? She knows what she looks like, what with the small chest and broad shoulders, how she looks with her short hair she asked Alex to cut with his razor last summer after a fight with her mom, the men's flannels with baggy jeans. She's known since Andrew Williams from her 8th grade History class told their entire grade she was a dyke after he catch her looking at an old Playboy magazine behind the bleachers. She knows.

It doesn't make it any better, knowing, when she has to pitch her voice a couple octaves higher that usual when talking to a girl she doesn't know yet so they don't get scared of her or think she's flirting with them. And it sure as fuck doesn't make it better when bassists would rather stay with their shitty, dead-end bands playing underground clubs and illegal parties than be in a band with someone like Bobbi. With Bobbi.

"Did you came here to listen to the music, or are you here just to sulk at the bar and look into your beer like it killed your children?"

And well, Bobbi must have been too busy with her self deprecation time to realize someone sat next to her at the bar and was now looking at her. Not just someone, either, but a girl. A pretty girl.

"I don't have children," she says before she can stop herself, and maybe this is why she's still single even tho it's 2020 and lesbian bars and dating apps are a thing that exist.

"That's good to know," the girl says, and gifts Bobbi a bright smile dressed in red lipstick. "Hi, I'm Reggie Molina"

"Bobbi Wilson," Bobbi says, and fucking extends her right arm for a handshake like a dumbass.

"Nice to meet you, Bobbi," the girl, Reggie, chuckles shaking her hand. "So? Are you here to see a particular band or did you just came here to be sad? 'Cause I gotta say, if it's the second one you chose a terrible place for it."

Reggie is giving a pointed look at the crowd to prove her point, and she's right, of course. Some band is playing a Pearl Jam cover and the audience looks sweaty and a little bit gross from dancing all together and jumping to the beat of the music. Bobbi can't quite make it out with the dark red light situation the club has going on but she's sure she sees Alex by the right side of the stage talking to someone.

"Uh, no, not really. I'm in a band and we're missing a bassist for our next gig. We're supposed to be looking for someone to play with us but everyone seems..." She doesn't finish her thought but Reggie shoots her a look like she knows what she means.

"What's your band's name?" Reggie asks, taking a sip of her drink.

And wow, maybe Bobbi should practice her people skills because she didn't even notice Reggie already had a drink or the way she looks so pretty holding the straw between her red lips. She also got pretty hands, from what she can see of them holding the tall glass of her drink. They look soft but not too delicate, and Bobbi is definitely not looking at how long and slender her fingers are, absolutely not, sir.

"Uh, Sunset Curve?" She's not sure why she phrases it like a question but she hopes that it's just distracting enough so Reggie doesn't realize she went quiet because she was looking at her hands.

"Oh, shit, are you serious? I fucking love your music," Reggie says with another one of her open smiles. And Bobbi isn't looking, but she can see how pretty Reggie looks when she smiles like that. She has one of those smiles that make her do everything she can to keep seeing it. "I saw you guys play this club over at Sunset Boulevard last month, I think, you guys killed it. My sister definitely has a crush on your frontman, bought your demo and all."

Bobbi kinda hates the sound of her own laugh but she can help but laugh at Reggie's words. Girls having crushes on Luke is such an usual occurrence that they now count on the fact that most of their audience at any given point it's made up of teenage girls and young women who are there to see Luke bounce around the stage with his arms at full display. It's cute, honestly, how Luke gets all flushed when Alex and Bobbi joke about how he ought to take his shirt off on stage to see if that helps selling more tickets to their shows only for him to go on a rant about how 'it's about the music, you dorks'.

"She'll be happy to know he's single, then," Bobbi says between laughs.

"Oh, is he now?"

If Bobbi's heart skips a beat or two at the edge of interest in Reggie's voice she hopes it doesn't show on her face. Of course Reggie is interested in Luke, why wouldn't she.

"Is your drummer, too? Single, I mean."

"Uh, yeah, Alex's single," Bobbi says, her disappointment bleeding through her voice just a little bit. "He's gay, thought. Alex, I mean."

"What about the rhythm guitarist?" Reggie asks again, her smile a little darker and just on the edge of flirtatious, and Bobbi is sure she's imagining the way her eyes seem to give her a once over. "Is she single?"

Bobbi takes a long second to reply, suddenly hyper aware of the way Reggie's blue—so, so fucking blue—eyes are looking directly at her, how her left hand is so close to where Bobbi's is, right next to her beer that's most likely gone warm by now. She's suddenly aware of how close they are, how Reggie must have been closing their distance while they've been talking because now she can feel her breath just inches away from her lips, can even taste the fruity taste of whatever cocktail she's drinking.

"Yeah, I'm single," Bobbi says. It's barely more than a whisper, but Reggie hears it all the same if the way she gives her another one of those lopsided smiles and moves even closer to Bobbi are any indication.

They're so, so close now that Bobbi would have to barely move at all to kiss her. Actually, their lips are so close that they might as well be kissing right now because Bobbi can feel the way they move against hers when she speaks again.

"And what's you guys' policy of dating other band members?"  

"Uh, well, Luke and Alex dated for a while a couple years ago before they decided they liked each other as friends better," she replies. She's pretty sure she must look stupid right now, all cross eyed with how close they are and how she keeps trying to look at Reggie's mouth and eyes at the same time. "Why?"

"Well, you said you guys are looking for a bassist and I would like to audition for the position, but there's this really hot guitarist on the band, too, and I don't think I could play with her if I don't get to kiss her, too."

And Bobbi's brain is so haywire by now that one thing she says to this is, "I haven't even heard you play."

Reggie's face moves back just a couple inches as she laughs at Bobbi's words but she's frowning at the distance anyway, so used to feeling Reggie's lips just barely against hers as they speak.

"Then I'll guess you'll have to stick around and watch," Reggie says with a wink and kisses Bobbi.

It's hardly a kiss, to be honest, just a little more than a touch of lips and it's over so fast Bobbi can't even react to it and kiss her back. It nonetheless stuns Bobbi enough that she stands sat at her bar stool even as Reggie gives her another wink and starts walking towards the stage where another band is starting to set up for their own set, too dumbfounded to go after her and still trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #jatp #jatp fanfic #reggie jatp #bobby jatp #fanfic:mine #fanfic:julie and the phantoms #ship:bobby/reggie

[singeramg]

CONGRATS ON 500!!! I'm going to request #7 “Good boy”, for MIKEY please. 😈

Title: Do You Want To Be Good?

Rating: NC-17 (Come on now, y'all know what this is)

Character: Mike (Hellraiser Series) x Y/n

Warnings: Sub! Mike, Domme! Reader, Oral (F/M), Masterbation, Groping, Orgasm Denial

A/n: This was fun and new for me! Thank you for giving and chance and even more thanks for the congrats! Hope this meets your expectations! I may write more for lil Mikey baby in the future.

Check out my Masterlist for more Fun!

“Sexus”

The tiny sound of a buzz, keys you in that the door has been unlocked for you. Your stilettos click across the dark alleyway and up the equally dark steps and pass the doorway. It didn’t look like much out front and that was by design because this was one of the most exclusive places in the city. The club you were attending tonight catered to a very specific crowd and even if you knew about it, it didn’t guarantee you would be let in. Club Noir was strictly for those in the BDSM scene, and a place you frequented once a month. You really hadn’t planned on being here tonight but after a shitty day of high powered men in suits with sexist comments and misplaced hands you really needed to blow off some steam.You were a domme, preferring to expect what you needed rather than beg for someone else to give you pleasure. 

No subbing was not for you. However...wringing the pleasure out of someone else. That was the real fun.The inside of the club was set in dim lighting. Enough to see everything happening, but low enough that you could feel the ambiance and intensity. You pull off your knee length trench coat, handing it to the clerk behind the counter. He tries to make eyes with you but with shaggy blonde hair and deep set brown eyes he is not what you were looking for. However you do smile in his direction.

“Which band for tonight?”

“Black.” The club had a rule of wearing a colored band. It was non- negotiable to not wear one. Each band meant something different. Yellow was Sub, Purple was Switch, Blue was voyeur only, red sets were for couples, and Black was for Dom. There were others if you wanted to get more specific but you weren’t really in for that tonight You could wear more than one band but Black was all you needed. You let the doorman slide your band on your arm, and walk into the main floor of the club, making your way to the bar. 

You knew you had eyes on you, the black dress was skin tight, highlighting everything. The heels made your legs look long, paired with blood red lipstick, you knew you looked ready to eat someone alive. It was a busy night for the club but not so busy you couldn’t spot the regulars. A few you had played with before and a few that had wanted to play but wasn’t worth your time. You ordered a drink, something sweet and fruity in nature despite you being anything but on a night like tonight. One of the main reasons you liked this club was the fact that they never kept the music too loud despite the fact that the whole building belonged to them. It had various rooms and levels all dedicated to the kink of your choice. This was just the beginning of whatever fantasy could take hold of you the minute you walked through the door. 

The dance floor was nearby and you took to sitting on the nearby stool to watch people and how they interacted. It was always a fun part of your night to watch the interactions between people. You were very good at reading body language which was why your eyes were drawn to the other end of the bar that curved the wall. You lock target on a man tall but young. At least younger than you. You look him over from head to toe noting that he hadn’t made much effort on his clothes, a black leather jacket and jeans with a white shirt and clearly he was the type to make sure that every strand of his dark hair was in place. His side profile boasted a strong jawline, cherry lips, and distinctive chin. His height makes you want to pay attention, but you are looking for his band and see it’s dark like yours. 

A pity really, you had considered him for the night.

You let your eyes linger over what could have been for a second longer when the woman he was trying to charm, maybe even came with stands up and pushes him away clearly no longer interested in whatever game he was trying to play. As his lower back hits the edge of the bar he hisses but if you hadn’t been looking at his face you would have missed how he bites his lip and grins briefly in response. It wasn’t from pain but from pleasure. It was that, that made you look at the length of his body over longer than first glance. You note he isn’t carrying himself like a dom. He might have been pretending an air of confidence but in reality he was putting on a show. The fake dominants were always the most fun to break, because when they broke... oh baby they were the most eager to please and judging by babyface over there, watching his ego devolving into nothing would be the best part of your night.

You take another sip of your drink and watch as he lets his guard down for a moment, clearly feeling out of his element but won’t admit it. He folds in on himself and orders another drink. You wait for him to notice you, and once he does look in your direction you smoothly look away. You smirk briefly as he slides into the space next to your stool, leaning on it, pretending to be casual.

“Now what is a beautiful woman such as yourself sitting here all alone?” His voice was deeper than you imagined, but you liked it. You turn to him calmly, coming face to face with a megawatt smile, and a young face looks even younger up close.

“Who says I am alone?”

“The way you look in that dress you shouldn’t be, but I haven’t noticed anyone around you all night, I think it’s because you got the wrong color at the door.” You laugh, the sound hollow and you lean forward, making sure he could see down the front of the dress.

“Oh no I didn’t baby boy, I am very sure of what I asked for however I think you aren’t.”

“Oh no doll face I am a dom through and through. I usually don’t like them strong willed like this, but a little brat is fun to deal with.” You laugh again you can tell it feels like the spider catching the fly. The longer you were in his presence you knew he wasn’t a dom. He just didn’t have a clue he wasn’t.

“What’s your name baby?” You ask swirling your pointed nail around the rim of your half empty drink.

“Mike, but you can call me daddy if you want.” 

“Okay Mikey I have been watching you.” You cut he down from the jump, he needed to understand he was out matched here. 

“I know thats why...” He starts and you cut him off, quickly a stern face on delicate features on your face, always tricking men and women alike into thinking you were innocent until this face came out, and you watch with a brief smirk as he folds internally, wet paper would be stronger than his willpower against you at the moment..Just how you liked them…

“Did I say you could talk yet?” He stops talking almost instantly.

“Sit down Mike.” He goes along and you know you’ve got him hook, line and sinker. You get up from your stool, stepping into his space, legs making room for you. You run your hands up his torso, and then the biceps, pleased with the lean muscle you find there, ending your tour with the hand closest to the crowd on his face and the other back high on his thigh. You turn his face directly toward you, the movement quick and slight enough so that no one but him pays attention to you.

“Mike sweetheart. I watched you, and I promise that everything about you screams Sub. You can try all day to pretend that the leather coat makes you a bad ass dom, all ready to break a young sub, but everything about you called out to me. Even just now the way you swallowed deep, and your heart is racing from just the thoughts alone. I don’t even have to touch you to bet you are rock solid under those jeans.” You bite your lips and move both hands to the front of his belt loops, pulling him slightly, and he lets you get close to his face.

“Maybe you aren’t a full sub, but I can tell already you are one of the best the brat world has to offer... you might want to stop pretending to be a dom.” 

You say looking him directly in the eyes. His blue eyes are boring to yours and you barely want to look away, but you have to and you do just that as you move your lips to his ear. 

“Hmmm...the things I could show you if you only let me. It’s a shame you are insisting that you are a dom. Have a good one Mikey baby.” 

You kiss his cheek, your lipstick not leaving a trace as it was designed not to and you pull away. Downing the rest of the drink in your glass you head for the voyeur area. Saying your mental goodbye to the handsome young boy who you know you could have shown a thing or two. You are walking into the crowd to get to the elevators that will take you to that floor, when you feel someone behind you. You know it’s him. 

You let him yank you into the stairwell just next to the elevators. His large hands are wild, and they hold you close to his raging erection which judging by the feel of things did not seem small. You let him get grabby with you, his hand digging down the front of your dress to paw at whichever breast he could get his hands on, while he kisses at your neck. It was when his free hand started trying to pull your dress up that you pulled away and switch, grabbing at the lapels of his jacket, crushing his lips  on yours and pushing him against the wall. Since he hadn’t been expecting such a show of strength from a girl of your size he wasn’t expecting you to have him moved against the wall and you to begin palming at his cock through his jeans. You know he is giving in when he groans almost pathetically into your mouth. His lips are smooth, satisfying but not overpowering, definitely needing some tips but that came with time.You keep this up for a few minutes before pulling away.

“Come.” One word sentence has him following you to an empty room, secluded for sessions like these. He stands in awe of you and he tries to reach for you but you slap his hand away. 

“Aht Aht ah. None of that. You only get to touch me when I say you can. Is that clear young man?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Oh I like that. Now puppy.... strip for momma.” You say sitting a plush red chair, crossing your legs slowly. Mike wastes no time pulling at his clothes and you chuckle, you can tell he has never been more aroused in his life. With every piece of clothing revealed you are confident in your choice to bring him up here. A young hard body, leading downwards to a dark happy trail that leads to your soon found happiness.  He is big, thick and uncut and you can feel the wetness pooling in your panties as you think about how that is going to feel inside of you. You bite your lip and smooth them over with a wet tongue just thinking about it. You have him lay down on the bed and make him watch as you pull off the dress and your clothes slowly. Clad in only your underwear, you crawl up the bed, locking his eyes on yours, you make him watch you slowly engulf him into your mouth, daring him to look away as you take him to the base. His groans are delicious and you pull off slowly.

“Hands behind your head. You touch me and you lose the use of your hands all night. Oh and you don’t cum until I tell you.” 

He does as you say and you begin sucking him as your mouth had been salivating to do since you had pressed against him at the bar. You grip him, jerking him and twisting, messy, running your tongue against the vein in his cock and then working your tongue like he was the only source of moisture. You were in the middle of a deepthroat move, his throat making a choked off sound when you feel his hands in your hair, daring to hold you as he thrusts his hips slowly. You pull back to where his tip is only in your mouth, his subsequent moan makes you laugh and pull off.

“What did I tell you about the hands Mikey.”  You say as you sit moving up so your thighs are cradling his hips, his erection poking your ass. He doesn’t respond so you slap at his face and grab him around the jaw.

“What. Did. I. Say. About. Your. Hands?”

“You said I wouldn’t be able to use them if I touched you.” 

“Exactly and did you listen?”

“No.”

“And now I’ve got to punish you, you will never get it.” You get up from the bed, heading over to the large wardrobe against the wall opposite the bed. You open both sides wide to scare the shit out your would be dom. The look on his face telling you he had no clue what half of the stuff was. You would take it easy on him tonight, he needed to be broken but too much pain play wouldn’t do it. Pulling down the handcuffs from the display and grabbing a vibrator from a drawer but you let him see it and go back over to the bed. Mike lets you handcuff him to the built in handles on the beds headboard. Once finished securing him you go back to the plush leather chair, leaving him with a confused look on your face. 

He watches you take off your panties and sit with your legs wide on the large chair. You slide your hands over your body, wishing you didn’t have to punish him by not using his hands, they slide up your torso to your breasts as you play with sensitive nipples. You hear his breathing pick up and one of your hands slide to your center and being the show of making yourself cum.

“Oh Mikey baby. See what happens when you are a bad boy, momma has to do this all by herself. She can’t make you feel good like she does.” 

You can hear him pulling at the cuffs but he won’t get out. You smirk and start with the toy he didn’t know you had. Moaning and groaning his name all while he was helpless on the bed.

 “Oh how I wish you could fuck me.”

“I can... please.. I can.” He says pulling at the cuffs again.

“I don’t know, only the best puppy gets rewarded. Do you want to earn a reward?” He nods his blue eyes big and pleading as you walk back over to the bed pulling at his hair, his dick twitches in response and dribbles a little pre-cum from the tip. You resist the urge to lick it away with your tongue, instead reaching down and swiping at it with your finger and being it to your lips.

“Mmm...” You moan and Mike’s head drops back helplessly. You can tell he has never been denied this long in his life.

 “I asked you, do you want to earn a reward?”You ask again making it clear he needed to speak.

“Yes. Please momma I’ll do anything, just let me fuck you please.” You can feel yourself drip as you get back into the bed, moving up his chest until you are hovering your cunt over his mouth.

“ Show momma how much you want to make her feel good. Earn your reward.” 

He wastes no time delving into you, you can’t hold back a whimper as he proves to you he was much better at kissing below the belt line, his tongue moving it ways that made you grip at the headboard and get jealous at whoever he had practiced on to learn how to eat pussy correctly, trying to forget as he takes a few moments to suck at your clit and then delve inside with his tongue. 

See you were the one in danger now because tongue game like his had the ability to make you want to keep him forever. 

You slide one hand off the headboard and into his dark hair and you ride on his tongue with his nose bumping against your clit. You grant him some mercy and reach back, stroking his reddened cock, while you think about how you can’t wait to ride that too. He moans into you, the vibrations making your legs shake. When Mike catches you off guard by flicking his tongue against your clit you cry out 

“Oh shit Mike, Fuck!” As you unravel on his face from his unexpected movements.You fall next to him on the large bed, chest heaving and you can hear the smirk in the little bastards voice when he asks you,

“Did I earn it yet?” 

You, still coming down from your orgasm can only say

“Good boy.”And once you gather yourself again, you know that was just the beginning of a very long night for you.

Oh .....Yes you just might have to keep Mike around...

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

A/N: Once again I reiterate this was kinda new for me in terms of the woman being the dominate so those of you that more versed send me tips on what you want to see and read, maybe what needs improvement? I am open!

Taglist (Still open)

Henry tag list

@msblkfire84 @magdelen69 @peeyewpeeyew @agniavateira @fcgrizi @diehadess @mary-ann84 @snowbellexx @tearsontape13 @tvdplusriverdale @p3nny4urth0ught5 @laxgirl1799 @crazymexicanfangirl @iloveyouyen @oddduckthatgirl @pinkcollectorparadiseblr @sweetybuzz25 @normatural

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill fanfic #Mike x you #hellraiser: hellworld #500 follower celebration #prompt #henry cavill #henry cavill smut

[sohin-ace]

Trish - Sister Figure

This is cross-posted from Wattpad and available on AO3.

Enjoy~

Trish x Female reader because babygirl needs feminine compagny.

Trish came in or more like burst into the hideout in a hurry, almost panicking as she pressed her arms firmly against her chest.

"Oh hi Trish! Wassup!" Narancia called as he noticed her and Fugo followed with a lazy wave.

"Welcome back." Bruno greeted her with a smile.

Abbachio barely glanced up, Giorno looked at her curiously and Mista turned around on the couch to look up at her.

"W-where is Y/N?" Trish's face was strained and she squirmed under their insistant glances.

This was really the worst timing for everyone to be just there, all noticing her arrival. Just her luck.

"What's wrong? You look uncomfortable." Bruno noticed her unease and she looked away, her arms not leaving their place against her chest.

"Where is Y/N?" She insisted, almost breathless with rising anxiety.

"Come on, come join us! There's cake!" Mista invited with a casual gesture.

"GUYS!" She snapped and the boys flinched, "WHERE THE FUCK IS Y/N?!"

"I'm here!" Your voice called in the distance upon hearing the commotion

You walked in from the kitchen while quickly wiping your hands on a towel, your appearance immediately brightening Trish's face. You hurried towards her and she relaxed, sighing in relief.

"What's wrong Trish? Are you okay?" You asked worriedly as you approached the pink haired girl, bringing a gentle hand to her face and the other on her bare shoulder, checking on her, your big sister instincts kicking in.

"I...I-"

She wanted to speak, but before she could lose herself in your soft worried gaze, she glanced at the boys who were watching the scene with nosy curiosity. For some reason, the gang was really into you girls' dynamics.

"... Can we go to the bedroom...?" She muttered a bit above a whisper, but the room was already so dead silent that some of the boys in the gang still heard.

You nodded at her in understanding. "Of course, let's go." You put one hand around her shoulder and guided her to your bedroom.

As you were both out of sight, Mista sat back straight and looked at his comrade with a teasing and quite amused look on his face.

"Oouuhhhh did you guys hear that??" He boasted and Giorno glared at his friend in disappointement.

...Really Mista?

"What? No? What did she say???" Narancia leaned forward, his giddy curiousity taking the wheel.

Fugo deadpanned at the overly excited boy beside him. "She said something like 'let's take it to the bedroom', or whatever. What of it?"

Mista covered his mouth as he snorted uncontrollably and Narancia's eyes widened like saucers as his mouth formed an 'O' shape.

"Hohohohoho some people are gonna get freeeaaa-kyyyyy~" Narancia sang obnoxiously.

"That's stupid. You guys are a bunch of dumbasses, they're just going to do girly shit or whatever, none of your dirty businesses." Abbachio clicked his tongue, trying to talk some sense into their empty brains.

"But like... Wouldn't that be hot? Like... Two girls... Doing... Ya know..." Mista said trailing off, a slight blush dusting his cheeks, almost hesitant to admit his own thoughts to the public.

"I don't think... That's a bit much, I'm sure their relationship is not like that." Giorno made a face at Mista's assumptions.

"Whatever they do, let's be happy for them." Bruno took a sip of his tea, only wishing for the best for the two of you.

A deafening pause settled in the room and the atmosphere became heavy as the temperature dropped. Foreshadowing sign that somebody was about to say something stupid.

"Don't." Bruno warned and everyone looked at him.

"What?" Fugo started as he squinted at Bruno, confused. "Who are you even talking to?!"

"None of you go eavesdrop on them. Especially you two." He glared sternly at the Mista and Narancia. "End of story."

"Aww come on!" Narancia whined childishly.

"You're no fun, capo! What even makes you think we would have that idea?" Mista retorted with unfounded offense.

The entire gang stared bluntly at them like it was obvious they would have such a stupid idea. If it wasn't them, then who else would?

In the meantime, you and Trish finally arrived to your bedroom and you let her enter first.

"Are you okay? What wrong baby? You can tell me." You asked patiently as you closed the door behind you.

She tried to ignore the speeding of her heart at the cute nickname as she turned around to look at you. She loosened her arms over her chest to reveal her top completely sliced up along with the skin on the side of her breast. The aftermath of fleeing a Stand user.

"Y-you're injured!" You gasped in horror as she held her small piece of cloth against her blood-leaking chest.

"It's okay, I'm fine! I just couldn't deal with it with the boys obviously..."

You ushered her to sit down on your bed. "Sit down, I'll be right back-!"

You instantly sped out of the room to get everything you needed to treat her wounds and she obliged, sitting on your plush mattress, feeling slightly awkward and bashful.

She didn't want to worry you uselessly, but she knew you were so protective of her that you would worry regardless of what happened to her, even for even the tiniest of things.

She looked down, thinking about you in the silence of the room. Your room smelled nice, a bit fruity. She looked over your dresser, there was a small make up palette and a single lipstick next to some perfume.

She smiled to herself, thinking how great it would be to have a girls day with you. But a gangstar's lifestyle hardly ever let you have time for this luxury.

Sometimes she wondered if life in Passione would be the same without you. Without your help, your advices and without your sweet smile. She would probably go nuts from her interactions with Mista alone if you weren't there to put him to place.

"Sorry I made you wait. Let's get into it." Her train of thoughts was interrupted by your voice that she loved so much.

She shifted awkwardly, not sure how to position herself as you put the medkit beside her and prepared everything. You then kneeled in front of her, staying eye-level with her chest.

"Let me see your wound, cara."

She blushed in embarassement and looked away as she hesitantly moved the shredded fabric away from her skin. Why did you have to be so... So... Entrancing?

Her ruined top that could barely stay on now was really the least of her problems. She was never really the shy or modest type and she didn't mind the revealing clothes, in any other situation she would have been unfazed, but now it felt... different.

Maybe it was you, or the feelings she had towards you that suddenly made her feel bashful about being naked in front of you. Sensing her discomfort and seeing how her chest heaved, you tried to reassure her.

"It's okay, it's just the two of us, I won't stare, if that's what's making you uncomfortable."

"No I'm-" She paused and looked away, not daring staring down at you. "It's kind of awkward." You chuckled and she wanted to melt right here and there.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, I'll have to touch you. But I'll try my best to not be too intrusive. Just relax." You spoke softly and she nodded, looking into your reassuring eyes.

You were always so good to her, she had a hard time seeing you as a sister figure. She wasn't really to blame, with all her family issues, she couldn't really know what a sister was like, or what it felt like to have one.

So when you came into her life, you basically made her rediscover herself. If she didn't know how to grow into a woman, she definitely knew that you would be the lead to follow on that path.

She looked up to you, respected you, and most importantly, she loved you. She felt genuine happiness when you were around and she felt like she couldn't trust anybody more than you.

Sometimes, she was even confused with her own feelings towards you, but that was the one subject she couldn't talk to you about and sexuality was not something she was comfortable with bringing out to you or even explore as of yet.

Maybe one day she'll talk about it with Bucciarati, but for now, she brushed everything off and appreciated the nice moments with you.

"Good thing I was a nurse before I joined Passione." You laughed as you finished patching her up. "Or else, you'd have Mista put ductape all around you."

Trish chuckled "Oh yeah, you sure are better than Mista."

You stood up and went to your closet as Trish observed you with curiosity. You then came back with a cute f/c shirt and gave it to her.

"Here, I won't let you go out there with your boobies out." You joked and shetried to hide her blush.

"No way, the boys don't deserve the view." She scoffed and immediately slid your shirt over her head.

It smelled just like you, fresh, sugary and comforting. A wave of tingles coursed through her as she reminisced your scent from all the warm hugs you would grace her with. She tried her best to not sigh out loud in immense delight.

"Awww it looks cute on you, I might just let you take it!" You squealed at her as your clothes complimented her baby face. "Everything looks good on you anyways, you're just that beautiful!"

Her heart pounded in her chest, flustered by your compliments. She met your gaze and you looked at her with such sheer fondness, she thought she was about to cry from how velvety soft your eyes were on her.

If Bucciarati could wear the soft look like a proud mother, surely yours would put him to shame. How could one's eyes not well up with tears when you carressed them without even touching them?

"... You're beautiful." Trish muttered quietly, in a love-drunk daze.

"Hm? I didn't catch that." You leaned down to hear her better as you looked at her questionningly.

She carefully got up and wrapped her arms around you, burying her face in your neck. You tensed up a bit, but relaxed in the embrace.

"Thank you, Y/N..." She mumbled against your skin, trying to hide the wince of pain from her wound.

Something told you she wasn't thanking you for the patch up. You carefully wrapped your arms around her small form, tracing soothing patterns on her back.

"Get some rest, love."

You moved some hairs on the nape of her neck and planted a gentle kiss there, you soft lips tickling her and triggering her nerves as she tensed up. He hid her furiously blushing face deeper into your skin, praying you wouldn't feel her hammering heart against your chest.

Now you really had her.

Bonus:

"Do you hear anything?" Narancia whisper-yelled as he looked up at Mista.

"Shhh!!! Shut up they're gonna hear us!" The taller male hushed as he put his ear closer against the door.

"A-ahh, Y/N, wait!" Trish whimpered from the other side of the door.

"It's okay, Trish, relax. It's going to hurt a little," The boys heard your faint and soft voice say. "But I'll be as gentle as I can."

"Yoooo duuudeee!!!" Narancia's eyes widened as he looked at his friend who stared at him in pure disbelief. Was... Was that really happening?

"Stop me whenever, okay bella?"

"Nngh... F-fuck..." Trish hissed out and the boys were dying on the spot, slappinh their hands over their mouths to muffle their noises, unable to contain their reactions.

"Yes, you're doing amazing, Trish. You take it so well."

"Ah... Haaah... Argh- Y/N-ah! ...P- Please!"

Mista was getting awfully agitated and Narancia couldn't help but slap the gunman's arms repeatedly, channeling his fanboying. They tried their best to stay silent and not get caught as their faces were now a deep shade of red, minds filled with litteral filth.

"Hey... Y/N is surprisingly sweet, even in these situations." Mista took a deep breath and wiped his now bleeding nose with the back of his sleeve.

"Pfftt she's a sweet dom ohmigod!" Narancia squealed like a schoolgirl, a little bit too giddy for what they were doing.

They kept on giggling in their hands like little fangirls, imagining more unholy scenarios when a scary shadow was cast over them.

"...What do you think you're doing?" Bruno appeared out of nowhere and towered over them, eyes glowing with the primal need to murder.

They gulped, sweat beading down their foreheads.

Screams of horror could be heard from outside your bedroom and you stopped what you were doing, looking at the door. You shrugged it off and went back to patching Trish up.

When Bruno got rid of the nosy boys, he passed by your door again and stopped for a second.

"Oh yeah, you sure are better than Mista."

He heard Trish comment and cackled to himself at the words.

"Savage."

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo #jjba #vento aureo #golden wind #trish #trish una #x reader #reader insert #writing #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo part 5 #part 5 #trish x reader #trish una x reader

[weregonnaneedmorewhiskey]

Covet

Chapter 1

Chapter 2- “You look like a bougie hooker but in a good way”

Let me know if you want to be tagged by sending an ask or a DM :)

Songs for this chapter:

Touch Me, Tease Me- Case ft Foxy Brown & Mary J. Blige

March 22nd

"So, did he tell you where's taking you?" Adrienne asks me whilst I apply a layer of Fenty lip gloss onto the deep pink lipstick. Turns out, I wasn't going to be forgotten so easily by James Brooks since he texted this morning asking me for drinks. After the party, I thought I should google him because 1. He could be lying about who he is because there are crazy people out here and I'm not trying to get murder for acting like a dumb bitch and 2. A part of me was weirdly enough curious about him. Maybe it's the Miami heat or maybe it's Taty's words finally sinking in.

"Yeah, some expensive bar. Can't remember the name but I thought I probably shouldn't wear jeans there. How do I look?" It wasn't an overly dressy look but dressy enough to not feel out of place once I got. Just a little black dress with thin straps that just about covered my ass, pair of lace up stilettos and my signature gold hoops. "You...look like a bougie hooker but in a good way. Like a hooker that only messes with NBA players or A-Rod when he was still a fuck boy"

"Good to know" I reply sarcastically. Another 20 minutes until he arrives. "Do you think you'll fuck him" I knew Adrienne gonna ask that. "Haven't given it much thought but I'm not stupid. If he's willing to give up the dick, then I'm gonna be there to receive it" Ok Taty's words have definitely sunk in. My phone flashes with a text from him. In the lobby. "A, He's in the lobby".

"10 minutes early. Impressive. Well have fun and be safe. Hold up" She goes into her suitcase and throws a condom in my direction. "Because I know you wouldn't think to take one with you". That's the good thing about Adrienne, she's the mom friend you need in life. Well...in terms of her being like a mom, she's kind of like Regina George's mom. But her heart is in the right place.

There he was. Stood in the lobby as if he had just stepped out of a GQ Magazine spread. James had that timeless attractiveness that stretched beyond what was happened to be in style. Sort of that Marlon Brando thing.

"Well...you look good" he greets me.

"Why? Did you doubt that I wouldn't look good?" I joke. When did that comment come from. I don't say things like that

"Quite the opposite. Just to clarify, you are of drinking age right?"

“Yes and you’re how old? About 45?” He definitely didn’t look 45. More like late 20’s, early 30’s. 33 at a push.

“I’m 32” Damn, I was just a year off!

“Based on the car, I see you’ve done well for yourself for being so young”

There was a matte black Tesla Model S parked outside which James got into the drivers seat.

“Something like that”

We arrive at the bar. James leads us to a booth in one corner of the room. I notice there’s no one else in this corner of the room.

“It’s just us two” I point out.

“Yes. Thought it would be nice if we had some privacy. If you don’t mind...”

“No, I don’t mind” We go and sit down in the booth. Soon after a waiter comes to take our drink orders in which James goes out of his way to order a bottle of Merlot.

“You come here quite often?” I ask him.

“From time to time. A lot of my clients like to come here and have events”

“These clients you mention, so are you like a lawyer or something?”

“No” he says. “I do marketing for a talent agency”

“Wow, impressive. Who does your agency rep?” I ask him.

“Lebron James, Travis Scott, Margot Robbie, Ben Affleck, Doja Cat, Kaepernick” Well I definitely wasn’t expecting those names at all.

“Your agency represents all those people? That’s...a lot of people” A lot of people? That’s fucking huge! No wonder he drives a Tesla. Probably not his only car based on the clientele.

“So what’s your major or have not decided it yet?” James snaps me out of my thoughts/state of shock.

“It’s Art with a minor in Latin American Studies”

“So you’re an artist?” He asks. The waiter comes back with the bottle of merlot. James pays for the bill and slides the waiter a $20 tip.

“I guess you say that but it’s not what I want to do after college. I’m more interested in art dealing” I take a sip from my glass and let the flavours dance on my tongue. It’s deep and fruity.

“Good wine?” He asks.

“Yes. Nice choice. I’m typically not a wine person. More into whiskey” I let him know.

“Well I’ll remember that for the next date” He lets me know.

“The next date? What makes you so sure they’ll be one?” I raise my eyebrows at his confidence

“I just have a feeling. Plus I can be quite persuasive”

I know I technically shouldn’t be attracted by him making a statement like that but yet it’s rather sexy.

“Well I would like to see it” Taty’s words have sunk in. I’m on a date with this guy, might as well have some fun with him and besides I may never see him again.

”What were you doing at the party the other day. Doesn’t seem like your kind of scene”

“It’s not. Well...not all the time. My friends dragged me to the party. I was quite happy spending the day with Audre Lorde but can’t say that I regret going to the party” He smirks at the last bit of my sentence.

“I wanna know more about you” James tells me, still wearing that smirk that’s shamelessly sexy.

“So do I. Who goes first?” I tell him. I think that liquid courage is setting into my bloodstream.

“Well since I asked you out, I think you should go first. Only fair” he takes a final sip from his glass before pouring a new one.

“Well, I’m originally from San Francisco. I’m a Virgo, My mom is Latina and my dad is Black. Got one brother. I go to Berkeley. Your turn” I finish off my glass and he goes to pour a new one for me.

“Alright. I was born in Seattle but I moved to Boston when I was 13. I have one brother as well. Went to Columbia for college, was living in New York until a year and a half ago” He gives me his brief bio but I have this feeling there’s more to him than he’s telling but it’s the first date and I didn’t give him much info so I guess it’s tit for tat.

“Why did you leave New York?” I ask him

“Needed a change of scenery” he gives a very brief answer.

“Well alright then” I can’t figure it out but there’s something about him I can’t put my finger on.

“Why are you staring me like that?” Once again snapping me out of my thoughts.

“I’m trying to figure you out. I feel like there’s more to you”

“Well, we could get out of here and find out more about each other. Maybe I could find out if you’re a scotch or bourbon girl since you mentioned you like whiskey” He does not bullshit at all.

“And where would we go then to drink this bourbon or scotch since we’re already in a bar?”

“I think I know a place. It happens to have some great art pieces as well that a potential future art dealer might like” That smirk was back on his again.

“Well, now I’m interested. Let’s go then” I finish the glass of wine and we leave the bar.

Tag list:  @emjayewrites

#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill x poc henry cavill x woc #henry cavill x black reader #fanfic #fanfiction #woc reader #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x black ofc

[radiostaticmuke]

Halloween Series Sequel

A/N: Was going through some old stories and felt inspired to continue with the storyline of Michael turning you into a vampire. In this version, y/n is replaced by the Vixen. Happy Halloween and enjoy!

---

Click-clack. Click-clack. Black stilettos stroll down a New York City sidewalk. Perfectly styled hair gets blown back by a nightly breeze to reveal striking eyes, focused on the path ahead. The eyes belong to a pale face with painted lips and adorned by subtle jewelry. She clutches her purse, weaving through the stragglers in the street. Moving closer to an apparent hole in the wall with a glowing red neon sign that reads ”Delight."

She approaches the closed door and checks her surroundings before entering. As soon as the door closes behind her, the place comes to life. A red glow illuminating all of the dancing twenty-somethings, intoxicated by their drinks, drugs, and lust. She inhales, removing her coat to reveal long graceful arms and a bustier hugging her body. She makes her way to the crowded bar, already in need of a drink.

Little does she know, her entrance has been noticed. Eyes focus on her from the balcony. He moves along the rail as she does towards the bar. His green eyes flash red and he disappears from view as she scans the scene.

Her empty shot glass slams on down and she swivels in her stool, there's an intention behind her eyes as she looks out to the dance floor. Hands groping bodies, fingers running through loose and untamed hair, a group of drunken girls dance and cheer one another on, using flash for their group photos. Of the four girls seemingly having the time of their lives, one looks out of place. That’s the one.

Where her friends are decked out in pumps and bodycon dresses, she sports a sensible shoe for dancing and wears a patterned jumpsuit, somewhat revealing if you find shoulders and collarbones seductive. She casually sips from her fruity cocktail, asking her friends if they're alright. They insist they're fine though half of their drinks are on the floor or each other. Two of them encourage their homely friend to dance, she moves to the beat in time but her friends prioritize being provocative over rhythm.

Another shot downed, the woman at the bar rises from her seat, feeling somewhat loose. She makes her way to the dance floor.

”I’ll be right back!” the young woman calls as peels away from her sloppy group and looks relieved as she flees to the club’s tiny restroom. Two sets of eyes watch her from afar. He watches the Vixen while the Vixen watches her prey.

Vixen makes her way through the crowd, blending in as her hips move to the electronic beat. She catches the attention of some overly-confident man. She notices him staring at her hungrily, assessing her body with his eyes, and deciding she's worth it. He quickly clasps her wrist to keep her from walking away, playfully pulling her back toward him. She looks from her wrist to him. Not you. Not tonight. Typically she’d take him on but she’s in the mood for a challenge.

”Where ya going in such a hurry? I can tell you wanna stay to dance”. His slurred words and tugging at her arms make her clench her jaw, but for a moment the tension seizes. Her tone is like butter, ”Oh yeah? You wanna dance with me?” She invites him closer, attempting to project over the music and voices around them. He leans into her but she raises her hands. He plays along, meeting her hands with his own and interlocking their fingers.

The looks of sweetness and flirtation dissipate and her striking eyes narrow and flash a similar red before she quickly breaks his wrist. Unflinching, she watches as his face twists with anguish. He is prepared to let out a horrified cry. She silences him with a finger, ”shhh...” she stares into his eyes deeply, his still filled with confusion and pain.

”You’re not going to scream. You’re going to silently exit the dance floor and crawl back to whatever gutter you came out of.” Her sweetness returns as his face falls still and he complies, now oblivious to his broken wrists. Her eyes return to their natural color as he turns away from her obediently. She continues on her mission.

Meanwhile, the mysterious figure from the balcony lurks closer to the bathroom, to where the young woman escaped. Almost forgetting where he is, he nearly makes it up to the bathroom door. But before he can enter, his ears are invaded by the sound of snickering. He turns to meet two other girls in line for the bathroom, glancing at him judgmentally. “Must be an emergency, huh?” one of them laughs. He ignores them and backs away from the door. Sighing, he leans with his back against the wall and waits.

Determined, the Vixen exits the dance floor and glances around to make sure her actions go unnoticed. Once the coast seems clear she struts towards the bathroom. Before she can see the figure standing along the wall, he slips into a crowded corner, keeping his gaze on the huntress as she eagerly enters the bathroom.

Once in the bathroom, she notices the young woman adjusting her outfit and fixing her hair. Cooly, she approaches the mirror and begins to do the same. Side by side they could not be more different. "Jumpsuit" looks at herself somewhat disapprovingly, her eyes scan her face for every imperfection and the growing frown on her face lets us know she’s found them. While the vixen stands tall with her shoulders back, she drinks in her image in the mirror. Carefully tweaking the slightly out of place hairs on her head and touching up her lipstick, a deep shade of red sure to stain. “Having fun out there?” the vixen asks, eyes still locked on her reflection. Her voice breaks Jumpsuit out of her trance, watching the vixen be effortlessly perfect.

“Something like that…” She sighs and takes another sip of her nearly full glass.

“Well, you’ll definitely need to finish more of that if you wanna have some real fun. Especially with the crowd tonight, the guys here can be a bit tame.” The Vixen faces her and smiles warmly. Jumpsuit’s expression seems bewildered, as though this is the longest she’s spoken to a stranger. She becomes flustered.

“Oh I’m not much for places like these, just having a girls night and I was out-voted.” She confesses sweetly and sits on the bathroom counter. The Vixen eyes her with the same hunger as the man she encountered before. The girl opens her mouth to speak again but as the words exit her mouth, the sound is drowned out by a pulsating beat. Not the sound of the club’s music being played, but mimicking a heartbeat.

The Vixen eyes the girl and as she moves her hair to one side, she can’t help but stare at the smooth skin on her neck and the large, inviting vein that runs through it. Vixen gulps, feeling her instincts kicking and her lips parting slightly in anticipation.

“But that sounds silly, doesn’t it?” Suddenly, reality kicks in and the sound of her voice returns, refocusing the Vixen on the task at hand. Jumpsuit looks up at her innocently and laughs at herself, “Sorry, you must think I’m nuts or something! Well, I’d better get back to my friends, who knows what they’ve gotten themselves into…” She hops off the counter and brushes past the Vixen, heading for the door.

In an instant, the Vixen appears in front of her, blocking the exit. “But I thought we were having fun here?” Jumpsuit looks startled but her expression falls into a naive joy.

“Believe me, as much as I’d love to hide out here with you, I should probably go take care of my friends.” She laughs slightly but the confusion begins to take over as she notices the Vixen unamused, now with glowing red eyes. She backs away from her slowly. “ Who said I was hiding"? the Vixen coos, revealing her elongated fangs. As Jumpsuit is about to scream, she is pounced upon. The Vixen begins to devour her, careful not to leave a mess. She squirms and fights for her life but the strength of the huntress is too great and her efforts are futile.

Driven by bloodlust, the Vixen finishes her off and beams in euphoria as she drains her of the last of her blood and lets her body hit the floor with a thud. She wipes her mouth and looks down at her kill. The girl’s lifeless body looks like a wilted flower, her once struggling arms now lay sprawled. The Vixen's eyes fall upon her wrists and the puncture wounds poking through her sheer sleeves. Her eyebrows furrow and her fangs retract smoothly.

”Who...” she begins to ask herself as she kneels beside her. The Vixen's eyes carefully examine the holes. She glances from the girl’s face to her neck to her wrist. ”Looks like tonight just wasn't your night, huh?” she drops her wrist and rises to her feet with inhuman speed.

The Vixen grabs her ankles and drags her into the largest stall. She positions the lifeless body beside the toilet before digging into her purse and fishing out a bottle of unlabeled pills, ”Some people just don't know when to quit”. A handful of pills trickle down the girl's throat and she leaves her corpse with the now empty bottle.

She pats her head before turning on her heels and exiting the stall. She turns to look at her reflection in the mirror but nothing’s there. She smiles to herself and wipes the corners of her mouth once more.

Vixen steps outside and rejoins the club scene, the energy just as electric as when she left. High off her kill, she joins the sea of people crowding the dance floor. This time she lets herself get lost in the music and the hunt. She pulls a possible suitor closer, smashing her lips against his. He doesn’t question it, but gives in to her, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in. She leaves kisses along his jaw, moving down his throat before biting down. She doesn’t even need to compel him, on a high of his own, he finds her aggression titillating. Carelessly the vixen releases him back into the crowd, a thin trail of blood running down his sweaty, bare chest.

“You oughta be more careful," a voice stands out among the rest from behind her. She stops in her tracks, searching in her mind for a face to match. She turns to face him. Michael. Her expression turns sour, as though she’s suddenly sobered up.

Michael was notorious for leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, at least he was when they first met. He was the man responsible for ending her life, well, her human life. He made her into the monster she is now, doing so without remorse. She glares at him as he inches closer, wearing a familiar, cocky, grin. “That’s rich coming from you.” She practically spits.

Now face to face, Michael drinks in her image. “Lifeless looks good on you, babe. It’s almost like I did you a favor..” The words make her skin crawl and she bares her fangs as she hisses at him. He puts his hands up in defense, amused by her anger.

“Don’t tell me you’re still mad? That was ages ago.” He raises a brow, the strobe lights reflecting off of the piercing. She lets her guard down and retracts her teeth before anyone around can notice.

“Six years ago to be exact, and not too far from here, if you can remember,” she says with contempt.

“Oh I remember, you looked almost as delectable as you do this evening…” he takes her hand as they make their way off to the side.

Equally as fast, they vanish up to the balcony where he’d previously been spying. They both laugh as they watch a few confused faces in the crowd look for them. Her laughter comes to a halt first as she looks at Michael, reminded of what he was, what he took. “What’re you still doing lurking around these places? Looking for another naive girl to turn into your little experiment?” her voice is indifferent, but Michael refuses to leave her alone.

“You know you’re the only one I’ve turned. The others have gotten my usual treatment of drink, drain, and dump.” He says oh-so-casually, leaning against the railing. He takes a piece of her hair and tucks it behind her ear, his touch the same temperature as hers, it's almost comforting.

“How romantic” she snarls, swatting his hand away impulsively. They continue to look down on the crowd of mortals beneath them. Michael grinning with delight at all of his options. The vixen was suddenly not in the mood for the hunt. She starts to turn away and he wants to call after her but he senses she doesn’t want to be followed. Something stops her and she turns back to face him.

“Why did you leave then?” she asks genuinely. Her eyes are serious and demanding of an answer though he pretends he doesn’t know what she means. “What’re you on about now”?

She sucks her teeth and leans on the rail once more. “If I’m the only victim you’ve ever turned, then why did you abandon me as a fledgling?” He stifles a laugh at her wording. She rolls her eyes at his immaturity. Some things never change.

“Forget it. I don’t know why I bother even trying to make sense of you.” She looks down disappointedly before putting on her coat. He bites his cheek, wanting to explain but unable to find the words. She looks at him once more, a little more fondly this time. “Wish I could say it was good seeing you-”

“What, are you leaving already? The night’s only just begun” He interjects, gesturing down to a group of fratty looking guys who entered the building. She smiles at the notion but insists, “Goodnight, Michael. “

The familiar sound of heels clicking across the floor returns. For a moment, he is about to let her walk down the stairs, but he races after her at lightning speed, almost going through her. She spins around and he stops just before her. “I didn’t abandon you.” He huffs. “What?”

He looks almost admiringly at her confused eyes and smirks, “You just didn’t need me anymore.”

She takes a step back, realizing how close they’ve become.

“You know you took everything away from me! My whole life!” she pushes him back with great force, but he only stumbles a bit, still amused with her anger. “And when I have to live like you to survive…” Her anger turns into a pain in an instant “... you leave.”

He notices this shift in her but refuses to acknowledge it, “Look, there’s no obligation for me to take care of you. I’m sorry you felt orphaned or whatever, you were gonna have to get used to being on your own one way or another.” She stares daggers at him. It fuels her and she throws a punch. Unfortunately, he catches it before she can make contact, “It’s already toughened you up quite a bit I see.”

Fed up, she pounces on him, taking him to the ground. He fights back harder and grabs her by the throat. With the upper hand, he corners her. She tries to pry his fingers from her throat but it's useless. He's twice as strong as she is. “Fuck...you” she manages to choke out between gasps for breath. She smiles, watching her squirm beneath him, her life once again in his hands. “We never quite made it to that part did we?”, he jokes as he finally releases her from his tight grasp, glancing around to ensure their discretion. She rubs her neck, looking at him disgustedly. “You’re right about one thing.”

“Just one?” he replies slyly.

“I don’t need you.”  She rises and composes herself.

He eyes her, unsure of her next move. Michael’s face falls as he realizes her utter contempt and he tries his best to brush it off, “You got the hang of it....eventually”. She scoffs, “You really can’t just give one single compliment, can you?”

Their familiarity brings them closer together. She couldn’t help herself around him, even when they first met. His energy was magnetic, maybe it was his charm or maybe he compelled her without her even knowing. Whatever it was, she couldn’t stay mad at him, even after everything.

She had to admit to herself that she was stronger now, all that time spent alone, learning to hunt, how to control herself, how to get away…

Michael peers at her with secret admiration, he was obviously attracted to her as a human, but now there was an edge to her. Maybe he liked that she’s lethal now, and he made her that way.

“I’m just a little cranky since someone went after my initial meal” his voice oozes with sarcasm and a slight pang of irritation. She ponders this for a moment before smiling to herself, remembering the rush. “Jumpsuit? Oh, she was a treat”. Tauntingly she licks her fingers the way you would after eating ribs. Her eyebrows furrow in slight confusion, “But you already knew that didn’t you?” She recalls the puncture marks on the girl’s wrist.

Michael cocks his head at her like she’s joking, he searches her face for any kind of tell but she looks equally as confused.

“No, but she looked pretty sweet from afar…” Michael shrugs off the comment but the cogs in her mind begin to turn. “But there were bite marks…”

“Not from me.” He says curtly, pulling out a flask from his dark denim jacket. “Drink. Drain. Dump. Remember?” She rolls her eyes at his indifference, but she also understands it. It’s much easier to get attached, otherwise, the guilt does the feeding.

“Well, I guess we have another one among us…” She joins him in looking over the balcony, their eyes search in sync through the crowd. “Is that gonna be a problem?” he asks, half-jokingly, half-serious.

She looks from the crowd to Michael’s eyes. They gaze at each other in comfortable silence for a moment. The corners of his mouth turn upward slightly as his eyes land on her stained lips. Instinct makes his fangs extend and his softness fades as his eyes turn red. She can’t help but laugh, “You’re not nearly as sly as you think you are. You got me one time too many.” Somewhat defeated, he retracts his fangs and the red disappears from his eyes. His lips part to speak, probably something snarky, but they’re interrupted by the sound of a high-pitched shrieking.

“Somebody help! Please somebody help her!” the once drunken girl group pour out of the bathroom, screaming out for anybody that will listen. Their cries are somewhat muffled by the bumping music. But the highly-tuned ears pick up the sound in an instant.

Michael and the Vixen look at one another knowingly.

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