#lands end had like three $50 shirts

[captain-cargoshorts]

Good fucking luck if you're trying to find men's clothes lol

"hey why are all the barrier garments like linen shirts or chemises or combinations going away?"

"oh we have more washable fabrics now! you don't need to worry about sweat reaching your outer clothing when you can just chuck it in the washing machine!"

"cool!"

[100 years later]

"so uh all of those new washable fabrics are leaching microplastics into our water, and the constant machine-washing wears garments out faster. they're also not really sturdy enough to be mended, so we keep having to throw them out and now the planet is covered in plastic fabric waste that will never break down. also it turns out that the new washable fabrics hold odor-causing bacteria VERY well. so could we get those barrier garments back please?"

"sorry babe linen now costs $100000/yard and since it's been so long without them, nobody knows how to adapt barrier garments to the current styles anyway"

"..."

"maybe try this new $50 undershirt made of Special Sweat-Wicking Plastic Fabric! :) :) :)"

[reiderwriter]

hii I absolutely love your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a one shot with gun kink? maybe not really something *aggressive* but just gun kink in the plot !! and please smut with no angst, also maybe aftercare in the end? it's totally okay if you're not comfortable. im loving your kinktober one shots! have a good day :)

A/N: This being one of like... three gun kink requests I've received, we are all not seeing the pearly gates lmao. If you enjoy reading this, even 50% of how much I enjoyed writing it, then I'm happy 😚

Warnings: Undercover FBI Agent reader, gun kink, interrogation room sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, some BDSM themes, Spencer has to 'rough up' the reader etc.

Masterlist

Being rough-housed by a group of FBI agents and pushed against a wall before being handcuffed was never your idea of a fun Tuesday night. It wasn't exactly high on the list for any night of the week, really, but here you were. 

“Caitlyn Grant? You're under arrest for being an accessory to a felony and evading law enforcement, whatever you say…” You drowned out the rest of the statement. It was nothing you didn't have memorized. 

“You're not the usual drug crew, and you don't look sturdy enough to be on most of the other teams either. What part of the Bureau are you in?” You asked the lanky man currently pinning you to the wall as he made sure your handcuffs were aptly tight. 

“You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one-” 

“I waive my rights. It's not human trafficking. You wouldn't be working this case if you were human trafficking.” 

The man just stared at you in vague disapproval as you grinned back at him. His closeness meant you could see every detail of his face up close, the five o'clock shadow, the dark circles from lack of sleep. On most of the agents you'd encountered, it had the effect of making them look older, a little haggard, and depressed. On this man, it was honestly very hot. 

He started your pat down by spreading your legs, though honestly, if he'd asked nicely enough, you'd have done just that for him. You near enough told him just that as he reached the two pockets on the ass of your jeans. 

“Watch it, Agent, my bite is worse than my bark.” 

“Turn around.” 

You pouted at his solid resolve, wondering what it would take to get the man to crack a smile or even a frown. Something that wasn't just disinterest slapped on a face and called a day. 

You did as he asked, making sure your body pressed nicely up against his the entire way until your shoulders were resting on the wall and he was feeling along your waist. 

“Come on, what kind of weapon are you going to find there?”

“Standard protocol, please let me do my job.”

“Standard protocol is calling one of your female agents over here to maintain the boundary, Agent. This feels more like you're just trying to cop a feel.” 

Those words finally got a reaction. The subtle clench of the jaw as his hands tightened slightly on your waist had you suddenly regretting your decision to be put in handcuffs. Your hands should've been free to tuck the stray lock of hair that had fallen in his eyes behind his ear, free so your fingernails could trace a path down his face and neck and chest. 

His gaze landed on the simple silver chain you wore around your list and he delicately pulled it out of your shirt, careful not to touch you (and avoiding you even as you arched your back into him). 

With a quick tug, he pulled the necklace clean off your neck, not pausing to bother with the clasp at all. 

“Clever boy. I'll see you in the interrogation room, shall I?” He said nothing as the female agents you'd mentioned earlier stationed themselves on either side of you as you walked away. You didn't break eye contact until the doors to the police van closed behind you. 

Six months undercover on a case, and this was the first time you'd stepped foot in a police precinct since you'd ditched your real name and life. 

The interrogation rooms hadn't changed in that time, at least, still grey and depressing. Time felt void as you waited for company, and thankfully, you weren't waiting long.

“Agent Y/N, sorry about the arrest, we wanted to make it look as real as possible while pulling you out.” The woman who greeted you obviously held the authority, and while you wanted to respect that, the sight of the man trailing behind her actually caught her full attention. 

“Pleasure to meet you….?” You let the question hang open for both of them but kept your gaze fully focused on the man, who stood himself next to the door, keeping surprisingly quiet. 

“I'm Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, we're from the-” 

“Behavioural Analysis Unit, of course. I was close, you know, earlier. A face like yours wouldn't last five minutes in cartel land. I almost guessed cyber, but you looked a bit too bookish. Doctor Reid, hmm.” 

“This interview is taking place with Agent Prentiss. Please direct all your questions to her.”

“Oh shit, sorry, where are my manners. I didn't mean to disrespect you like that, Agent Prentiss. It's just been a long few months.”

The other woman just chuckled and shook her head, leafing through some documents to pass you over the information on the case they needed assistance on. 

“We think there's a serial killer in the drug ring you infiltrated,” the woman explained, passing over the files with the case details. You took a moment's breath before opening to the crime scene photos, steeling yourself for what you might encounter. 

“There are probably a lot of serials in the organization. It's a drug ring. What makes this one worse?” You said, just as you flipped the file open and answered your own question. 

“Shit- Okay, that's what makes this one worse. He can't be more than 15, right?” 

The answering grimace on the two agents' faces suggested you'd been generous in your estimate. “Okay, how can I help?” 

xxxxx 

A few hours passed in the interrogation room, and you'd walked them through all of your up to date information on your case and cover. The chair wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were glad to be finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The interview was ending, and you could see an end to your undercover work swiftly following too with the BAU's assistance. 

You weren't looking forward to having to acclimatize back into the real world. You'd gone from pushing papers at a desk 9 hours a day to rubbing shoulders with drug dealers and junkies, a lot of whom were kids, young people like you who had no other options than the streets and crime. 

You made a mental note to give a few warnings to the younger kids on the streets to stay alert and then started getting back into character. 

“Thanks again for your help, Agent. We appreciate your time.” Prentiss nodded at you as she gathered the folders, getting ready to leave. 

Spencer Reid stood, too, stretching himself out as he rose from the chair, giving you quite the show as your eyes dragged from his face, down his chest and down further still as you appreciated the view. 

The last few hours had been strictly professional, and you'd enjoyed bouncing ideas off of him, running through theories. Now, trying to get back into your ‘lusty barmaid’ persona, you thought instead about how much you'd like to bounce on him yourself, possibly while running your hands through his hair. 

A girl could dream. 

“Hold on a second, I'm still in cover, I can't go back out there looking this pristine, it's too suspicious,” you said, the two agents turning back to you curiously. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Someone needs to throw me around a little. Rough housing, you know, a few bruises will do it.” 

Prentiss looked at you, caught halfway between impressed and amused. The good Doctor however seemed to darken slightly, covering his shock with a tensed jaw. 

“She's all yours, Spencer,” Wmily winked at the man, turning the door handle and beginning her exit.

“What? Why?” 

“I don't hit women.” 

“And I do? Emily, wha-” 

But the door to the interrogation room has already closed with a small cackle, and you're already being drawn closer to the man like a moth to a flame. 

Turning to face you, you see the shock of the situation on his face before he looks away in a flash, refusing to meet your eyes as he keeps himself close to the door. 

“Doctor Reid, I'm not actually a criminal, you know?” 

“I thought you wanted one of us to treat you like a criminal now.” 

“You make a good point, shall we begin?” 

He signed and rubbed his temples as you advanced, letting you get a little bit closer before holding his hands up in surrender. 

“Wait, wait, tell me first, what should we be doing?” 

You took a deep breath and expelled it, then took the time to think about it. 

You would need some visible marks of the FBI's unkindness - wrists red, a bruise or two on your knees, maybe, from falling. The problem was, you couldn't think about how to get the marks without driving yourself insane. 

There was a quick and easy way to get tender knees, an even easier way to mark up your neck and chest, but you couldn't figure out how to ask Spencer Reid to do those things without spreading your legs and letting him do whatever he wanted. You weren't sure you wouldn't do that eventually, anyway.

“Let's start with my wrists. You were too generous with the handcuffs earlier - just grab them really tight, pin me against the wall if it helps.”

He nodded and took a hesitant step towards you, thinking for a second, before grabbing one wrist and spinning you around. Before you could even process the action, he had you pinned, chest against the wall, arms above your head. 

“Is that okay?” He asked, his grip tight  but not bruising yet. 

“A little tighter, I want the marks to last a while. Why is my face against the wall?” 

He gripped tighter, the pain sending a jolt through your wrists that trailed all the way down to pool between your thighs. 

“I thought you'd be less uncomfortable like this.” 

“With your dick pushed up against my ass? Yes, Doctor, great decision.” 

He let out a cold, quick laugh, leaving you flushed as he pushed your upper body into the wall, too, finally getting to the grip strength he needed to get attention. 

“I'm sorry to disappoint, Y/N, but that's my gun,” the words whispered in your ear were the last straw as you shuddered in his grasp, his hands releasing your wrists as he stepped back a little. 

You shook out your hands a little, trying to momentarily relive the stiffness in your joints. 

He took a few paces to the desk and upholstered his weapon, placing it on the desk before joining you again. 

“So you don't get confused again,” he explained at seeing your raised eyebrow. 

“Oh so next time, it will be your dick?” You whispered, moving back to the desk and sitting yourself on the edge or it, picking up the gun and studying it for a few minutes. 

“Y/N, put it down.” 

“Ooh, possessive, are we?” You giggled, aiming it at him for a second before grabbing it by the barrel and holding it back out for him to grab. 

“Hold it, point it at me or whatever. Maybe it'll help you rough me up.” 

His brow furrowed, but he grabbed it anyway, not immediately slipping it into the holster as he stepped forward. 

“What now?” He asked, and you shrugged. 

“Whatever feels natural. And looks visible, I guess.”

It took him a few minutes to decide, surveying your body like it was a puzzle. Professionally, of course. You were about to speak up and urge him to get on with it when his hand shot out and wrapped around your throat. 

You tried to gasp, but the grip was firm, and boy, was it driving you crazy. Your legs had naturally parted as you sat yourself on the edge of the desk, and he walked into that space now, his free hand still holding the gun. 

Your body pushed forward into his, suddenly awash with arousal as your chest heaved with tiny breaths, lungs burning. 

“Are you enjoying this, Y/N? Or is it Caitlyn Grant that's enjoying this?” 

You felt the gun touch your thigh gently, and you moaned, just as he softened his grip on your throat. 

“Answer me, please. This is an interrogation room, after all.”

You met his eyes, checking to see how far he would take this, how far you could push back. 

“I'll admit, I'm not against mixing pain and pleasure.” 

His gaze flicked down, slowly pushing his gun up the skin of your thigh, raising your skirt with the barrel to catch a quick glimpse of your panties. 

“I can tell.” 

If it weren't for his grip on you, you'd have lunged for him right then and there. The cool metal against your thigh had you shuddering against him, growing wetter by the minute. 

“I read somewhere once that we can't pretend to be someone else without actually becoming them in some small way. You've been a cartel whore for six months, I wonder if this is a lasting effect.” 

He was so close now all he needed to do to close the gap was change the angle of his head, but he kept you in place with that gun, pointing up from your pussy, flush against your stomach. 

“I'll tell you a secret - the part of me that's aroused right now definitely predates this cover.” 

His lips drop to yours, tongue clashing with yours furiously as he grabs the back of your head to angle you better. 

Letting his hand drop back to your thigh, he gently coaxed you further open, skirt riding up. Putting down the gym momentarily, he pressed a wandering finger against your pantie-clad pussy, feeling your arousal before he used it to coat his fingers. 

A second later and the offending pair of underwear lay discarded on the floor. 

“Fuck, Spencer,” you said, gasping for breath as he again picked up the gun. 

“You wanted this so badly, didn't you? You've been needing someone to treat you like this for months now. It didn't even have to be me.” 

He traced circles on your thigh with the gun, and you twitched, years of training not letting you relax around the weapon and months of sexual frustration, making you desperate for something to touch you. 

“Yes, yes, please touch me.” 

The hand at your throat slid down to your chest and pushed gently  urging you to lie back and let him do whatever he wanted with you. The desk was cold - metal biting at your bare skin - and it only sent more shivers down your spine as he lowered himself to his knees and parted your legs for his tongue. 

The first touch was heaven, a state of bliss you'd been without in what felt like forever. His tongue danced across your folds as he tasted every inch of your exposed cunt, grip still strong on the gun pointed now to your chest, pinning you between the machine and the table. 

You tried to be as still as possible, to take the pleasure he gave calmly, but you couldn't. You writhed, moaned, chest heaving as you tried to hold off the first orgasm you'd achieved with someone else in probably a year.  

Like a man on a mission, Spencer Reid did not care. He gladly suffocated between your thighs as you squeezed them together, wrapping them around his head so you could keep feeling the insurmountable pleasure of his tongue on your pussy. 

“Spencer…Spencer, fuck-” you said as he finally pried your legs apart, lifting them just slightly so his tongue could reach further inside of you, curling with each wave of passion. Your hands fisted his hair, desperate for something to ground you to the moment as your pleasure spilt out of you, orgasm jolting through you in tiny sparks of pleasure. 

The gun moved first, coming level with your chest as you untangled your fingers from his hair. Spencer stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he kept the gun on you. 

“I think this turns you on even more. You've been ruined by this cover, Y/N, you're so used to being in danger that you can't even get off without someone threatening you.” 

You attempted to scoff, to brush off his words somehow, but his hand was suddenly back around your throat, picking you up off the desk and pulling you instead towards the room's one-way window. 

“Look at yourself,” he said, again twisting you around so you were pressed into the wall, wrists above your hair, raising your shirt to expose the cold skin underneath. He ran the barrel across the fresh skin, leaving a field of goosebumps along his path. 

“I don't think it would've mattered who came in to rough you up. I think you'd just as happily have convinced Emily to fuck your little pussy raw, right Y/N? As long as there was a gun…” 

Your moan was the only response as he used the weapon to spread your legs. You naturally arched your back and kept your hands in place as he holstered the weapon momentarily to unzip his pants and let his cock free. 

You couldn't see it, but you saw his reflection in the mirror as he slowly stretched you out with it, mouth dropping in a lustful ‘o’ as he fed his dick to you, hard and thick. 

As soon as it was in, the gun came back out, this time to rest against your temple. 

“Get yourself off,” his voice was so low it was practically a growl. “Use my cock, and pleasure yourself.” 

Your body listened immediately, beginning to move back and forth on his cock as he held himself in place. His moans and groans were all the encouragements you needed, the gun at your temple was just made the pleasure more profound as you approached your release. 

But he kept you pinned to the glass, your full range of motion limited, and you whimpered in frustration that you couldn't feel every inch of him. 

“If you need something, use your words, Agent.” 

“More, need more, please..please,” you gasped, breathing ragged. 

The hands at your wrists released, and he fisted a hand into the flesh at your hip, your wrists resting on the glass next to your face as he took over your thrusting. 

“Can't even do this anymore, what a spoiled little whore,” he said as his hips began snapping into you, reaching that spot deep inside you as you drooled against the glass, wondering if anyone had just happened to step into that room and what they must think about you. 

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my cock,” he said it, and entranced, your body did just that, your orgasm taking the last breath of strength you had as he too plunged himself deeper and stilled there, his cum coating your walls. 

Neither of you moved for an eternity, but the first sign of clarity returning was the careful return of the gun to the holster. 

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Spencer minimized the mess you made together, cleaning you up as he slipped out of you. Discarding it momentarily on the floor, he pulled your clothes back into position and led you back over to the chairs. Just as he moved to sit you down, though, you turned and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. 

His arms hung suspended for a minute or two before he let them rest on your back, stroking your hair. 

“Sorry, it's been… it's been lonely, and I didn't realize how hard it had been until-” 

“It's okay. Take your time,” he said, sitting down in the chair and letting you curl up in his lap, burying your head in his neck

“We’ll catch this guy, and then you're out, okay Y/N? We'll come back and get you out soon.” 

Lifting your eyes to his, you nodded, pressing your lips to his with a smile as you again worked yourself back into character, regaining your earlier composure and lifting yourself from the man's too comfortable arms. 

“Well, Spencer, what do you say we get me back into panties and handcuffs and cut Caitlyn Grant loose?” 

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

✨Staticmoth wedding headcanons✨

Because I have a lot of thoughts but can't come up with the plot to turn it into fic

✨ Vox absolutely loses his shit. You would think that Valentino would be a groomzilla material but oh no no, Val just wants sexy dress and enough coke to last three days of partying. Vox needs everything perfect. He has his grand vision and is ready to tear with bare hands everyone who does not deliver. During the preparation time, he murders as many people as Val usually does. Velvette bails on being the wedding planner after just two weeks because it was seriously straining their friendship. But after a month, she's back in the game. Why? Because Vox strangled three other wedding planners in frustration, and things weren't moving forward, so Val was starting to freak out.

✨ The event is held at the Vees' Tower. I reckon they've got a venue suitable for hosting conferences and porn award shows.

✨ It's a grand event. I'm talking Grand™, like the Kim K and Kanye West of Hell kind of grand. But it's also elite, so the guest list isn't that long, around 200 invited people plus 50 ticketed spots for anyone willing to drop 100k hellish bucks to attend. Everything is dripping with gold and diamonds because "quiet luxury" isn't in the Vees' vocabulary. The whole affair reflects Val's aesthetic more, as it's Vox's love letter to him. Vox already had his wedding, and now it's time to fulfill his husband's dreams. So Val makes about 90% of the decisions without shouldering any real responsibilities. Which is fine by everyone because he's annoying as hell when it comes to picking roses, flamingo feathers, and starters. Nobody wants to put him in high-stress situations. Expect lots of red, pink, and gold, with heavy, decadent fabrics and neon lights; it's like an exclusive brothel meets the Las Vegas strip.

✨ When it comes to flowers, they settled on roses because they're Vox's favorites, which naturally made them Val's favorite too, given the sheer number of bouquets he's received. Vox, being the freak he is, counts every single bouquet he's ever given to Val. So, for their wedding, he ensures there are twice as many roses. Yes, he's a pathological overachiever.

✨ As for attractions, there’s a plethora of erotic dancers in cages and mesmerizing drone light shows. Karaoke, slot machines, live cooking stations, and all the drugs you can imagine. And let's not forget a fountain flowing with tequila. It's a true adult wonderland.

✨ Valentino skips the whole white dress thing and rocks a fierce red latex gown that's very Mugler but with a fetishcore twist. Vox keeps it sleek in a sharp black three-piece suit. His shirt's a bold blue, and his tie matches Val's dress. His shoulder pads are pointy, his waist is slutty, his ass looks divine. Oh yeah, about slutty waist - underneath the shirt he is hiding a leather corset, as a treat for the wedding night.

✨ Also none of them really have friends other than Velvette, just associates so there are no groomsmen/maids.

✨ Since there aren't any traditional churches or government officials in Hell (if there's even a government at all), Velvette takes on the role of officiating the wedding. Vox isn't entirely thrilled with this choice because there's always the risk she might crack a joke or publicly rib him, but hey, there's really no one else who could pull it off. I imagine that a wedding in Hell is also some form of magical contract but more about partnership than ownership. They do not exchange rings but blood sksksk also I don’t think that Vox can really wear rings with his claws? And they couldn't quite agree on a design that satisfied both of them. In the end, Val ends up wearing his illegally imported engagement ring from Earth, featuring four pink diamonds shaped like a moth's wings.

✨ Val's vow is, well, atrocious. It's the kind of thing that would definitely land him in one of those TikTok compilations of terrible grooms ruining their weddings. He mentions cream pieing Vox at least once. Vox at first freaks out but seconds later realizes Wow that's the man I'm marrying. I wouldn't want him any other way On the flip side, Vox's vow is immaculate. Crafted with the assistance of Voxtek's CMO and practiced to perfection, it leaves everyone in awe. He has out-of-body experience playing this role of prince charming.

✨ For their first dance, they opt for a steamy tango. Picture this: swirling red smoke on the floor, making it seem like they're dancing on the sky of the pride ring when the sun is setting down. Little do the guests know, the smoke is laced with drugs, sending most of them on a wild trip. The party quickly goes off the rails, but in the best way possible (according to the Vees’ standards).

✨ The cake is a five-tier monstrosity with five different flavors: tres leches and chocolate-cherry chosen by Val, confetti cake and strawberry cheesecake chosen by Vox and Red Velvet for Velvette because she couldn't shut up about it To top it all off, there's a big chocolate figure of Vox and Valentino dancing. Val is later caught drunk, eating it with his bare hands like the filthy animal he is.

✨ Velvette’s wedding gift is a pair of customized matching guns with small engravings that read "Partners in Crime."

✨ Valentino pulls off a surprise special pole dance performance as a wedding gift for his husband. Let's just say it's scorching hot and leaves at least 50 guests with, uh, visible excitement. Later on, things almost escalate to a full-on table bang, but...

✨ Velvette spends the entire evening reminding them that they can't just vanish to consummate their marriage because this whole party took months of preparations, and they need to be present. After all, people paid good money to be around them. The threat of cock cages hangs over their heads, but they promise to behave. However, Val being the horny beast he is, ends up taking Vox to the bathroom for a quickie anyway. Velvette decides to let it slide this time.

✨ At least 20 casualties mark the night. Vox ends up zapping one of the guests who gets a bit too clingy with Val during the dance. Meanwhile, Val gets into a brawl and, well, let's just say it doesn't end well for the other guy. Surprisingly, everyone seems to be having a great time, but hey, these are the Vees' colleagues we're talking about—they thrive on violence and sex.

✨ Yeah, there's no shortage of sex at this party. With a guest list mainly consisting of businesspeople, adult performers, and mobsters, tensions escalate rapidly. By around 3 A.M., half of the party is busy getting down and dirty in every corner imaginable.

✨ When Vox reaches the perfect level of drunkenness, he seizes control of the DJ station. Surprisingly, he's a natural, dropping beats like a pro and having an absolute blast. Val, meanwhile, goes absolutely wild watching him, thrilled to see Vox letting loose and embracing his creative side.

✨ Derek, Vox's assistant, is the odd one out, the only low-status person to snag an invite because Vox felt kinda generous. But truth be told, Derek hates the idea and wasn't keen on attending. However, when Melissa caught wind of his invitation, she practically dragged him there to be his plus one, desperate to get closer to Velvette. Derek's terrified of most of the guests, but Melissa's over the moon. She later fucks him as a reward for being a very brave boy. Angel is not invited because he would ruin mood of both grooms.

✨ Valentino had prepared the filthiest, kinkiest, most elaborate wedding night, but it doesn't go as planned. Surprisingly, things turn out very vanilla for their standards, with a lot of missionary, eye contact, and hand-holding. After 16 hours of non-stop action, they're both too exhausted to even think about getting creative.

Thank you @purrpleowl @watcherofeternalflame @canadianlucifer @aroromantic @malu897 @staticmothed @chaggieslovechild @gumm1defloor @mayflowersfly for your thoughts!

[mothstvrnz]

ʚ♡ɞ・Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader ・ʚ♡ɞ

You decide a little board game from Spencer's will be fun and steamy, but had no idea it would turn out like this

Note: The game I used in this is in fact a real game!

TW: Smut, p in v, no protection (be careful!), Reader has a mask kink, nickname uses (Ma, Daddy, Mommy), swearing, multiple orgasms,

WC: 4.2k - Whoopsie Daisy! This was meant to be 1k - 2k words!

“What in the world did you buy?” Chris chuckles as you show him what you had come home with. It was stupid, really. You were out getting stuff from Bath and Bodyworks, and ended up spending $50 at Spencer’s on a game of all things. “A game, it looked fun.” You sheepishly say. It’s Valentine's Day, and you guys had gotten back from a nice dinner after spending too much time and money at an arcade near your house. “And you got these this morning?” He says while examining the box labeled ‘Kinkyland’ in red and white cursive writing on a black box. 

You nod with blush rising to your face, getting a laugh as a response. “You mean to tell me, you wanted to play this? Tonight?” He asks while tearing the plastic wrap that keeps the box safe. “Yeah. Is that alright?” You ask as he opens the box to reveal a game board, two dice and paper instructions. “Oh, more than alright.” He chuckles darkly while sitting on the floor and opening up the board and setting the dice down before clearing his throat. “Alright, the instructions are simple. We basically roll, and we have to do whatever the space says. We start on the start space.” He says while skimming over the instructions. “We each roll one dice, and one moving piece. What color do you want?" Chris asks while showing you six different colored moving pieces that look a little to similar to a butt plug. "Red works." You say as he hands the piece, taking the black one for himself.

“Alright, ladies first.” Chris says, passing the red die to you, keeping the black one for himself. You roll the red die onto the board, the cube rolling around until it lands on one. “One, alright.” You say while moving your piece one spot ahead of ‘Start’. “Remove one piece of clothing.” You say with a small giggle while deciding what to remove. “Honestly, I think you should just remove all your clothes, but that’s just what I think.” Chris says with a shrug and smirk, making you laugh. “That’s not what the space says!” You giggle while removing your black shirt to reveal a light blue lace bra. “Fuck, Ma, that’s not fair. I really can’t take it off of you?” He groans, his hands running through his brown hair.

“Nope! Your turn!” You say, a teasing smile on your lips. Turns out that this will be a lot more fun than you initially thought. “Fuckin’ hell, alright.” Chris complains while rolling the black die. “Three.” He says before reading the place he landed before chuckling. “Pick a player, give them a one minute lap dance.” He says before putting his die down and picking his phone up. "Get on the bed.” He commands, making you immediately comply, standing up and getting on his bed, unable to keep the smile off your lips. “One minute, starting… now.” He says before starting the one minute timer on his phone.

He starts slowly, his slender fingers giving small touches up your legs, lingering longer on your thighs than anywhere else, and then he moves on to trail up your stomach. His fingers tease you as his fingers glide around your bra, lingering on the clip and going back to your stomach, leaving goosebumps in his wake. His icy blue eyes connect with your own as his fingers trail up to your neck, making your breath hitch. “I’ve barely touched you, and you’re already clenching your thighs, Ma.” Chris chuckles before he licks up your neck, getting a small gasp. He moves to lick up the other side of your neck- BEEP! 

“C’mon…” You groan as the timer on his phone goes off. Has it already been a minute? “Oh dear, looks like it’s your turn.” Chris says before he goes to sit in his original spot, leaving you clenching your thighs on the bed. You sigh and get up, moving back to your spot on the floor. You pick up the red die and roll it, the cube coming to a stop on four white dots. “One minute kiss.” You say while looking up to Chris, who looks eager to say the least. You put your game piece down on your spot before crawling over to him and sitting on his lap. “One minute, alright? No more.” You say as you grab your phone and prepare a one minute timer.

“One minute, got it.” He says, carefully watching the timer, as soon as your finger hits the ‘start’ button, his lips are on your own. His lips mold with yours in a heated symphony, and it isn’t long till his tongue demands entrance. Your eyes flutter shut as you part your lips, his tongue immediately rushing into your mouth and fighting with yours. Your tongues fight for dominance, but he easily wins the fight and continues to explore your mouth. His hands move to grope your breasts, but you smack them away while moving your lips away. “It's a one minute kiss, not one minute of touching my tits.” You mumble against his lips before diving back into the heated kiss. 

He huffs against your lips before putting his hands on your hips and gripping tightly. You fight the urge to grind your hips, and to hopefully help fight the urge, you press your lips against his harder. You're so into the kiss you almost miss the timer. Almost. “Chris-” You try to say before he pulls you back into the kiss. You huff and push his chest. “What?” He huffs, clearly a little upset, but realization dawns on him as he listens to the timer. He reluctantly lets go of your hips, letting you stand up and go back to your seat. 

“Don't be salty.” You chuckle as he continues to pout while picking up the black die in his hand. “I'm not.” He grumbles while tossing the cube on the black board. The game piece rolls around a bit before finally coming to a stop on six. “Ooo, I like the sound of this. Pick a player and kiss their neck.” Chris says while moving over to you. “How much of a kiss?” You ask with a raised brow as he pats his lap for you to sit on, which you comply with. “A hickey at least.” He tries to reason while moving his lips to your neck, but groans when you pull away. “It says kiss, not a hickey. Pick a spot, and if I feel like you've done more than kiss, I'm pulling away.” You say, getting a nod in response. 

He carefully examines your neck before locking his eyes on a spot just under your chin. He latches his lips to the spot, earning a breathy gasp from you. His lips form into a devious grin before he begins to kiss the spot. His lips are rough against your skin, and the moment you feel his lips begin to suction against your neck, you pull away. “C'mon Ma, I wasn't going to leave a hickey!” Chris says desperately, his lips forming a small pout. “We both know you would've.” You sigh while getting off his lap and sitting back in your spot. He grumbles something incoherent as you pick your die up and roll the cube.

The game piece lands on six, so you move your red marker to the designated spot, making your eyes widen. “Are Nick and Matt home?” You ask worriedly while looking up to Chris who's cackling like a hyena. “No, Matt is on a date with some girl and Nick is with friends.” Chris says while calming down his laughter. You look down at the space again; make your best sex noise. Unbelievable. You clear your throat, close your eyes and let out a down-right pornographic moan you didn’t even know you could make. As soon as you hear the filthy sound that leaves your lips, you instantly close your lips with your hands over your mouth. Hell, even Chris is surprised, he’s never made you sound like that before. “Where in the world have you been hiding that, Ma?” Chris asks with wide eyes as he stares at you, lips parted in shock. “I don’t even know.” You mumble embarrassedly, not even knowing yourself where you had kept a moan like that.

“Well I guess it’s my turn… fuck.” Chris says with a gulp that makes his Adam’s apple bob up and down. He picks up his piece and rolls it on the board, watching it land on five. “Pick a player, give them a hickey. Don’t mind if I do.” He says while looking over your chest and neck, thinking of where he’d be placing his mark. “Don’t make it super noticeable, please.” You ask as he comes over to you, eyes trained on your collar bone. “Yeah, I won’t.” He says before his lips latch onto your breast, sucking ruthlessly. You instinctively moan softly while arching your back ever so slightly, pushing yourself closer to him. His arms wrap around you with his hands gripping your sides, no clear intention of letting go. 

Your own hands fly into his soft hair gripping as he bites and continues to harshly suck your tit. “Chris...” You say in a breathy voice, getting a hum as response. “We’ve gotta' keep playing, or we’ll never finish.” You say, hissing as his lips detach and bite down. He brings his teeth away from the bite mark and runs his tongue over the deep purple spot. “There, now we can keep playing.” He chuckles before going back to his own spot, giving you the change to pick up your die and roll. You watch as it stumbles around the board before deciding to land on four. “Remove a piece of clothing. Seriously? Why haven’t you landed on that yet.” You sigh before standing up and taking off your jeans, leaving you in just your matching lace bra and thong. 

“Fuck Ma.” Chris groans appreciably while his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. Chris rolls his black die, the cube landing on a three. “Aww babe, we’re on the same spot!” He chuckles while taking his shirt off and tossing it somewhere to the floor. “About time.” You say softly with a small smirk as you pick your die up and toss it on the board, the piece landing on six. “Pick a player, and for the next three turns, call them Daddy or Mommy. Really?” You chuckle without any humor. “Yeah, call me Daddy.” Chris laughs, wiggling his brows at you. “Chris-” You try but he turns his head away from you. “Not my name.” He says while crossing his arms in a childish way. “Daddy.” You say, which gets him to turn and face you real quick. “Yes, love?” He asks while looking at you with a shit eating grin.

“It’s your turn.” You say with a small sigh. “I guess it is.” He sighs dramatically as he rolls his die, the black cube landing on two. “Pick a player, and lick anywhere.” He says with a dark chuckle, his icy blue eyes hiding behind his expanding pupils. “C’mere, Ma.” He says while going over to you and lightly pushing you back on your elbows. “Ch- Daddy? What’re you doing?” You ask, blush creeping up on your face as you use the nickname the game decided. “What does it look like I’m doin’? I’m playing the game.” He says before carefully avoiding the board and licking each of your inner thighs, but skipping over your clothed heat. “C’mon, please?” You whine, getting a disapproving tsk. “Nah, I don't think I will.” He says before rising up from between your legs, his lips turn into a wolfish grin before he goes back to his seat, leaving you flustered and your thong increasingly wet.

Annoyedly, you grab your die and roll the red cube, leaving it to land on five. “Tell everyone your secret kink? Uhm, okay.” You say, trying to think of a kink that Chris doesn’t know about. He gives you an odd look as you think, brows raised and blue eyes trained on your thinking face. “Oh! Okay, you really can’t judge me though.” You say with an embarrassed giggle that makes a weak attempt at hiding your flustered state. “No promises.” He says with his own chuckle, making you sigh a little. “Okay, it’s masks.” You say, your cheeks heating up. He looks so utterly confused. “Masks? Like.. Covid masks?” He asks while tilting his head to the side. 

“What?! No! Like… Ghostface, Purge, stuff like that.” You say with a small chuckle as you watch the realization take over his features. “Oh… Oh! You're into that?” He asks with wide eyes and parted lips. “...yeah…” You say with a small voice. “Mental note, get a Ghostface mask.” Chris says with wiggling brows, getting you to erupt in blush. “Shut up. Roll.” You say as he picks the black die up, the cube landing on five. “Pick a player, and for the next three turns, call them Daddy or Mommy.” Chris reads out before looking at you with an unimpressed look. “Would you look at that! You've gotta' call me Mommy, Daddy.” You say with a giggle as he sighs. “Yes, Mommy.” He says, making you blush with clenching thighs. You swallow thickly before rolling the cube, getting a six. “Pick a player, make them remove a piece of clothing of their choice.” You say, looking up to Matt, who’s suddenly stopped teasing you about having to take off your clothes. “If I have to, Mommy.” he says, standing up and taking his jeans and belt off, tossing them towards his shirt. Your eyes immediately dart to the unmistakable bulge of a boner beginning to form. “My eyes are up here.” He chuckles darkly, making you look up to his blue eyes. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t stare at my tits when my shirt came off.” You scoff as he picks his game piece up before tossing it on the board. “I won’t lie, I absolutely did.” He says with a small laugh while his die comes to a stop on four. “Tell everyone how I lost my virginity? Oh lord.” Chris sighs, you knew he lost it to a girl his Junior year of high school, but don’t know much else about it. You’ve both just decided to not talk about it because it’s easier if you don’t. “Go on, Daddy, tell me.” You giggle as he runs his hands over his face. “Okay, so basically, she invited me over since her parents weren’t home, right? Well, she suggested we play truth or dare, and I agreed. After a while, she dared me to give her a hickey, nothing I haven’t done before, so I did it. Uhm, then one thing led to another.” He says quickly, not wanting to go into much detail. “Go on, that’s it? That’s all you’re gonna’ tell me?” You press with a raised brow. “Yup.” He says with a sigh, making you roll your eyes teasingly. 

“This is the last turn I have to call you Daddy, are you upset about that, Daddy?” You tease as you shake the red die in your hand. “Is it bad if I say yes, Mommy?” He asks with a raised brow, making your thighs clench and eyes roll. You toss the cube onto the board, getting roll again. “Hell yeah, the faster we get this done, the better.” You sigh as you pick the piece up and roll again. “Why do you want us to be done with this? I’m having fun.” Chris chuckles, making you scoff. “I’m not answering that.” You say with a huff as you look down at the die to see five. You look ahead on the board as you blush harder. “What?” Chris asks before looking down at the spot you got.

“All players remove a piece of clothing.” You say in a slightly higher voice than normal. “Wait, that’s not fair, I’ve only got one thing left, you have two!” Chris says, making you shrug as you reach around to unclip your bra, teasingly slipping the straps off before tossing it with the rest of your clothes. “Rules are rules.” You giggle as he stands up to take his boxers off, revealing his raging boner. His tip is bright red with a small bead of precum beginning to leak out. “Your turn.” You tease as he rolls the piece, clearly trying to ignore his throbbing cock. 

You watch as he thickly swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he watches the black cube roll around the board before stopping on two. “Ten second kiss, ready?” You ask as you go over to him, placing yourself on his lips, his aching cock pulsing against your clothed sex, which has a heartbeat of its own. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” He says weakly, trying desperately not to rock your hips against his to seek pleasure. You hurriedly bring your lips to his, counting from one to ten in your head, purposefully being slow. Your lips clash, but rather than last time, you push your tongue past his lips first. He’s a little shocked by this, but doesn’t hesitate to tangle his tongue with your own. You softly moan through the heated kiss, and by the time you get to ten, you don’t bother to pull away. He bites down on your bottom lip, the familiar metallic taste of blood invading your mouth as he pulls away. “It’s been ten seconds.” He breaths against your ear, making you shiver and slightly move your hips against his raging cock. 

“You wanna keep playing or say fuck it?” He breathes heavily. As much as you want to skip the rest of the game, you might as well finish it. You’re almost done with the game. A couple more minutes won’t hurt, right? “Let’s finish the game, I’m almost to the finish space.” You say as you begin to stand up, getting a whine in response. “But Mommy.” He says, his lips curling into a devilish smirk. “What? This is the last turn I get to call you that.” He shrugs with a dark chuckle, making you huff. “We’re almost done, then we can put it away.” You sigh, your thighs clenching together as you sit back down to seek some form of relief.

“Fuck putting it away, I don't want to waste that time.” He complains with a slight growl while tossing the die onto the board, landing on five. “Pick a player, make them remove a piece of clothing of your choice.” He says, his blue eyes narrowing at you, not leaving you much of a choice of what to remove. “If you insist.” You sigh while standing up and removing your soaked thong, the slick on the fabric brushing against your thigh, leaving goosebumps. You let out a shaky sigh as you roll the die, more desperate than anything now. The die lands on four, leaving you just one away from the finish icon. “Tell everyone about your last wet dream.” You say before letting out an annoyed sigh. “Uhm, it was about you while you were on your last trip with Matt and Nick.” You say before biting down on your lip. He nods before rolling his own die, also eager to finish this up. 

“Show everyone your best nude. Well, you’re looking at me naked right now, that’s more than enough.” He says quickly, not bothering to let you roll your final time as he stands up from his spot, picks you up and throws you on the bed, his pulsating cock brushing against your clit as he lays above you. “But-” You say, trying to hide how eager you are. “Shut up, oh my god, just please let me have this.” He says as he brings his lips down to your neck and harshly bites down, making you let out a breathy moan. His lips roam around your neck and breasts, biting and sucking wherever he pleases. Your hands fly to tug at his brown hair as he sucks particularly hard on your tit, just above your nipple.

He licks over your nipple, making you moan, but abruptly stops, making you whine at the missed sensations. “Why’d you stop?” You say with a whiny tone, eager for him to continue. “Hold on.” He says simply before getting up and going into his closet, making you raise your brow in confusion. “Do you remember when I tried snowboarding?” He asks while walking back over to you, a piece of black fabric in hand. “What does this have to do with having sex right now?” You ask annoyedly, kind of upset he decided to bring up snowboarding as he’s about to fuck you. “Calm down, Ma. All I wanted to try is that mask thing you mentioned.” He chuckles while getting back on the bed, his weight making the mattress dip. You’re about to ask what the fuck he means but stop with wide eyes as he slips a black balaclava over his face, whisps of his brown hair peeking out. 

You forget to breathe. You forget to blink. You forget your own damn name. He’s already hot, but the mask makes him so much better, giving you the opportunity to focus only on his eyes. “Ma? You here with me?” Chris chuckles while grinding his hard cock against your pussy, making you moan. “There’s my noisy girl.” Chris says while bringing his hand down to stroke his cock a few times. “You ready for me? Is this pretty pussy ready for me?” He asks while glancing down to watch him slide into you. His thick cock stretches you so fucking good. You throw your head back with your eyes closing tightly as he pushes into you, your velvet walls squeezing him beautifully. 

Your eyes flutter open to see him watching you while pulling out just to the tip, leaving you to clench tightly, missing how full you felt. You watch his silver chain dangle against his collar bone before he brutally slams into you, getting a loud moan. “I want to hear what I heard earlier.” He says with a primal growl before setting a disgustingly fast pace, his silver chain thumping against his collarbone. The overall sight could make you orgasm right there. “Chris!” You moan in a high pitched voice as your nails dig into his back, raking down the skin, absolutely leaving red claw marks. 

“There my noisy girl is.” He chuckles while looking down to see him slamming in and out of you ruthlessly, his cock coming out covered in your slick, making him throw his head back. He lets out a low groan mixed with a growl as he repeatedly hits your g-spot, making your moans get much louder. “Fuck, Chris!” You squeal as he slams particularly hard into you. “Louder Ma, I need to hear what I heard earlier.” He commands, making you moan loudly, but it’s still not what you did earlier. “C’mon, not there yet.” He tsks disappointedly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m close!” You moan loudly, the sound unfiltered and unholy. “Maybe I’ll hear it then, huh? You gonna' moan like a pornstar for me?” He says bringing one of his hands to rub tight circles around your clit, earning another filthy moan. “There ya’ go, Ma, finish all over my cock.” He says, pushing you right over the edge. Your climax makes your eyes roll back in your head and your head go light. Your eyes flutter open as he pushes you for another orgasm. “C-Chris!” You moan as the sensations become overwhelmingly pleasuring. He lets out a growl as he feels you clench tightly around him as your nails dig moon shaped markings into his back. “Fuck, Ma, gettin’ close. ‘M gonna' cum so deep into this pussy. Gonna' cum so deep we don’t see a single fucking drop.” He says nastily, making you moan at the thought. You don’t even know when it happens, but you feel another rush of an orgasm begin to build, probably from his filthy words, the circling on your clit, and his devastating thrusts against your g-spot.

“Gonna' come all over this cock again? Conna finish like a good little slut? Huh?” Chris asks as his thrusts turn erratic, the knot in your abdomen getting tighter and tighter with each brutal thrust. “F-fuck, Chris, I’m close, I’m so fucking close!” You moan lewdly as his fingers still toying with your clit speed up. “C’mon Ma, let me hear that pretty voice.” Chris commands, making you moan loudly, but still not the pornographic sound he heard earlier. “Not there, Ma, c’mon. I know you’ve got it in ya’.” Chris says disappointedly. It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re climaxing again, the pornographic sound from earlier escaping your lips. “There- fuck- there it is.” Chris says as he continues to thrust brutally into you. “Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming!” He moans as his movements on your clit stop and his thrusts stop, leaving him buried deep inside your fluttering walls.

Both of you are tired, chests heaving with deep pants, and your minds are blank. Well, not completely.

You both know you will be playing this again soon.

ʚ♡ɞ

Tags: @trevorsgodmother @nickgirl4life @stvrnsslvts @pinksturns

[virtie333]

Snowbound - Poevember 2024

Poe Dameron, a former military pilot living a quiet life outside of a small mountain town, is trying to ignore his new neighbor, the too-young and too-beautiful Rey Skywalker. But a blizzard is about to change his life forever.

Cross-posted on AO3 (even if you read it here, please give it a kudo there!)

Modern AU Damerey (Poe Dameron x Rey Skywalker)

9800 words (sorry, not sorry)

Rated Explicit, but not until the very end. Hurt/comfort. Neighbors to Lovers. Talk of PTSD, Depression, and Suicidal Ideation. Forced Proximity and Sick Fic. P in V protected sex and Oral sex (female receiving).

Lieutenant Colonel Poe Dameron, former F-15 pilot for the United States Air Force, sat at his worn dining room table, staring at the blizzard outside his kitchen window, idly wondering how much snow it would take to bury his whole cabin enough to suffocate him.

He could just fall asleep and never wake up. It would be so easy. So peaceful.

Almost as if he could read his master’s thoughts, BB, his Border Collie, gave a sharp yip. Poe jumped slightly, startled out of his maudlin thoughts, looking at his dog and grimacing. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said out loud. “I couldn’t do that to you.” He took a deep breath, turning back to the blinding white outside. Dawn had arrived, bringing daylight but no sun. Just wind and snow. Lots of snow. “Maybe our neighbor lady would take you,” Poe muttered. She seemed to like animals.

BB yipped again, but this time he was standing at the back door, looking at Poe expectantly. With a wince, Poe stood and walked across the kitchen, barely registering the cold floor under his bare feet. He should probably turn the heat up since the temperature was dropping fast outside. Maintaining warmth in the old house was a bit of a chore. He opened the door and watched as BB shot out. “Don’t get stuck in a snow drift!” he shouted after the dog, only partially serious. BB was a very smart dog and knew better than to wander too far, especially in inclement weather, but it was really bad out there and BB was still at risk in the storm.

He saw the dog heading toward the property belonging to the neighbor he had just been talking about, and he shook his head in frustration. BB liked going over there to see the young woman and to play with her dog, a little tri-colored rat terrier named Deo. Or at least he thinks that was its name; he had heard her call out to the dog a few times since the woman had arrived in August. Now it was November and they were facing their first major snow storm.

Only it wasn’t just a snow storm. The Blizzard Warning had been posted yesterday morning already, with up to three feet of snow expected along with winds reaching 50 MPH; winds like that were unheard of here in the mountains outside of summer thunderstorms. Temperatures that had been in the 60s yesterday were dropping steadily, and they were expected to be in the single digits by tonight. While the air temperature was just under freezing when the snow started, making the snow wet and heavy, the wind chill was already in the teens. He was stocked up on canned goods and firewood in case the power went out, so he was ready.

He hoped his neighbor was.

When his former neighbor, a gruff older man he only knew as Skywalker, passed away last May, he had expected the house and land next door to go up for sale. Instead, a young woman whom he assumed was related to Skywalker took over the property, moving in with her dog, a donkey, and a small herd of goats. In September, she added a horse to the mix, and though he never saw them outside, he spotted at least two cats in a window facing his property when he had been chopping wood one afternoon. He had seen her face peering out at him from the same window, but she had ducked back fairly quickly when she realized he had spotted her.

Feeling self-conscious for the first time in years, Poe had put his shirt back on.

To be honest, he had been surprised she hadn’t come out to talk to him at that point. Twice since she had moved in, she had come over to his house, politely knocking on his door. He had ignored her both times. He had come up to this mountain to be a hermit and he was going to make sure she knew he had no interest in being neighborly. While the land across the gravel road they both lived off of was owned by a rancher who ran two-hundred head of cattle, the rest of the land that surrounded his forty acres and her fifty acres belonged to the National Forest Service. His cabin was five miles along a well-maintained but unpaved road to the highway, and another eight miles to town. It was as close to the ‘middle of nowhere’ he could get, and he liked it that way.

Suddenly, BB was at the back door, jumping on it and barking frantically. Poe felt his heartrate increase as his anxiety shot up. BB never got that upset without a reason. He moved back to the door quickly, opening it without looking out. He expected BB to rush in, bringing snow and cold with him, but instead the dog spun around and ran to the edge of the deck, then turned and looked at him, barking maniacally. Even someone not used to dogs would understand what he was trying to say.

“What the hell, BB?” Poe grumbled, looking out at the swirling snow. He couldn’t even see his neighbor’s house, which was only twenty yards away. BB ran toward him, reaching out to tap him on the knee, then spun around again, this time running all the way down the stairs into the snow, angled toward the neighboring house. He had gone over there, Poe knew. Now he was desperate for Poe to go there, too. His anxiety still sky-high, Poe turned back into the house and toward his bedroom. He pulled on socks and a flannel shirt, then ran back out to find his boots, pulling them on and lacing them as fast as he could. He grabbed his coat and headed out the back door. BB was tap-dancing on the deck, and as soon as he saw Poe bundled up and coming out, he hopped down the stairs and started running toward the neighbor’s, jumping the snow drifts in his way.

“This better not be a false alarm,” Poe groused as he zipped up the coat and pulled his gloves out of the pocket. He trusted his dog, though. Something was seriously wrong.

The snow was drifting badly already, with some drifts already knee-deep. He plowed through them, finally seeing the dark shape of the other house through the blinding snow. Only BB wasn’t heading toward the house. He was going left, toward the barn that was situated on the other side of the garden behind the house. There was a fence with a gate right behind the garden, and he knew there was a lovely stone path that led from the house to the gate, but that was now covered in snow. There were no animals visible on the other side of the fence, so he knew they must be safe in the barn, but he did see a dark shape in front of the closed gate. It was to that shape that BB ran.

Poe rushed forward, knowing he was walking over the garden and hoping he didn’t trip on anything, heading toward BB and the immobile shape. He could barely hear the barking of the woman’s terrier coming from the house behind him, sounding desperate. As he got close, his fears turned to reality as he realized it was indeed his neighbor, slumped down by the gate in the snow. BB was nosing where he assumed her face was, but she was bundled up in a pair of green coveralls, a hood and balaclava covering most of her face. She was dusted in snow, telling him she had been here for a while, and there were mostly covered tracks in the snow leading to the barn, telling him what she had been doing before BB found her.

He squatted down in front of her. “Hey!” he said loudly, reaching for her. She appeared to be kneeling, leaning against the fence. One of her gloved hands was gripping one of the fence rails. “Hey!” he said again, leaning in to see what he could of her face. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes were closed and she did not respond.

“Miss?” He shook her shoulder slightly. “Hey!” Still no response. Using his teeth, he removed the glove from his right hand and brought it up to her face. She reacted to his touch, her eyes opening slightly. Her skin was hot. Too hot. “Hey, can you hear me?”

She blinked at him, then turned her head slightly. Her hand slipped from the rail and she slumped even more. She mumbled something that sounded like “sleep” and he reached for her, holding her up so she didn’t fall completely into the snow.

“Yeah, no,” he grumbled as he moved in to grab her under her arms. “You can’t sleep here.” He moved to stand, pulling her up as he did so. “You’re sick. You’ve got a fever. You need to sleep inside where it’s warm.”

“I am warm,” she mumbled, but she didn’t fight him, grabbing a hold of the back of his coat.

“Yeah, well, the wrong kind of warm,” he told her as he directed them both toward her house. “You fall asleep out here, you’ll be frozen to death in an hour, fever or not.”

She said something he couldn’t understand, then tripped and fell against him. With a heavy sigh, Poe shifted so that he could pick her up in a fireman’s carry over his shoulder. She didn’t struggle, but he could hear her say something unintelligible again. He pushed through the deepening snow, finally reaching the steps that led up her back deck, BB at his heels. He could see the little terrier watching them from the screen door, his expression fearful. Carefully, he balanced the woman just enough he could free a hand and get the door open, praying the little dog didn’t run out into the blizzard. But BB pushed inside ahead of him, herding the little dog backwards and making room for Poe to step inside.

Looking around frantically for a place to set the woman down, Poe tramped through the kitchen and into the main room, aiming for the couch that sat on the far side of the room. He set the woman down with a groan; she may be skinny, but she wasn’t tiny. She moaned, but did not open her eyes. She was also shivering. How long had she been out there before BB found her? He turned and went back to close the inner door, keeping the cold and snow outside, then removed his own coat so he could maneuver better. He headed back to the couch and began removing her outerwear.

Boots first. Big, black insulated rubber muck boots. Then he unzipped the coveralls, pulling them off her shoulders and down her body. She had a hoodie on underneath, and as he pulled the coveralls over her hips, he saw she had thermal leggings on. At least he knew she had been prepared for outdoor work in frigid weather. He threw the coveralls back toward the kitchen, not wanting all the snow still stuck to them to melt over her carpet, then he untied the hood and pulled it down, gently pulling off her balaclava. Her brown hair was in a tight braid, but it was also soaked in sweat. Her shivering became more violent, and he was glad to see it; it meant her body was warming itself up from the external cold. He figured it wouldn’t take long with her fever helping from the inside.

A big gust of wind hit the house, and suddenly the light in the kitchen and the light next to the couch went out. “There goes the power,” Poe mumbled. He looked over at the two dogs who were both sitting quietly watching him. He scanned the room, glad it was daylight and the house had lots of windows. He noticed an orange and white cat on top of the stairs that led up to an open loft. Her bedroom, he wondered? There were two blankets folded on top of the back of the sofa, and the fireplace off to the side was currently cold, but it not only had wood in it ready to be lit, but a good stack next to it. Okay, this woman was prepared for the weather, he thought.

She just hadn’t planned on getting sick.

Poe reached for the zipper on her hoodie, tentatively pulling it down. She had a pale blue camisole on underneath, and no bra; the outline of her small breasts were clearly evident under the cami. He looked around the room again, noticing what looked like an oversize sweatshirt over the back of a pretty wooden rocking chair close to the fireplace. He went over to grab it, then went back to the woman, removing the hoodie and pulling the soft and warm looking sweatshirt over her head. He wondered if it belonged to her boyfriend as he pulled her arms through the sleeves. He had never seen a man visit her since she had moved in, but maybe it was a long-distance relationship. There was no way she could be single.

He grabbed one of the sofa pillows and carefully laid her down so her head was on it. She wasn’t really unconscious, he knew, but she didn’t seem to be aware, either. She was unresisting as he situated her lengthwise on the couch, then he brought the blankets down to cover her. Her shivering had stopped, but her face was still hot and he could tell she was still sweating. It felt wrong to cover her up, but he was still convinced hypothermia was the main threat. He could however try and make her more comfortable. He went to the kitchen, grabbing a dishtowel and turning on the water at the sink. Nothing. “Shit,” he groaned. “The power’s out, dimwit,” he told himself. Like him, he was sure her water source was a well, and the pump was electric. He wondered if she had a generator.

He went to the back door, opened it and used the towel to pick up a bunch of snow, wrapping it up as he closed the door tight again. He used his hands to work the snow, melting it, getting the cloth as wet as he could, then dumped the rest in the sink and took the cloth over to the woman, putting it over her forehead. She shuddered, then settled.

Poe sat down briefly on the coffee table, his mind busy as he planned what he had to do now. Start a fire, collect some snow to melt for water, check to make sure they had food for the duration, for both people and animals. He wouldn’t bother going back to his house, yet; it was going to get cold, but there was nothing in it that couldn’t handle that. If she didn’t wake up completely by sunset, he should probably go check on her animals in the barn; he assumed that’s what she had just finished doing when she collapsed, so they should be fine until dark. He pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket, unsurprised to see no signal. Even on clear days it was hard to get a signal out here, and there would be no internet with the power out. The way the weather was, even if he could get a hold of emergency services, it would be too dangerous for them to try and make it out here.

It looked like he was here for the duration.

******

The woman’s fever broke around one in the afternoon.

Poe had gotten the lower level of the little house nice and cozy by then with a good fire. He had found as many large containers as he could in the kitchen and filled them with snow, setting them next to the fire to melt, and he kept a cool, wet cloth on his patient’s forehead to help with the fever. Sometimes she would open her eyes, but he could tell she was completely unaware. She was restless, mumbling words he couldn’t understand, and never responded to anything he said. Her dog had joined her on the couch, either lying on her hip or perched on the back, as if he was guarding her. Though he had never done anything aggressive toward Poe, he still watched everything Poe did with distrust. BB followed Poe around in whatever he was doing, settling on the floor in front of the fire the few times Poe let himself sit down on the old recliner kitty-corner from the couch.

Poe tried not to snoop, but it was hard as the morning passed and the afternoon advanced. There were pictures throughout the room, including one of her with Skywalker. They were smiling and seemed happy. He wondered what their relationship was to each other, and he wondered why Poe had never seen her visit the older man. Granted, he had only lived here for a little over a year before Skywalker died, but the man had seemed just as much of a hermit as Poe desired to be.

Poe was relieved when the woman’s temperature returned to normal. She settled and seemed to finally fall into a real sleep. As four o’clock neared, he decided he better check on the animals in the barn. He bundled up and headed outside, BB insisting on coming along. Before he left the deck, he checked under the tarp at the far end, pleased to see even more firewood ready if needed. Then he grabbed the snow shovel that sat propped up against the railing and headed down the stairs into the snow.

The wind and snow had not let up at all, but because the temperature was colder than this morning, the snow had changed consistency. Instead of feeling like he was getting pelted with mini snowballs, he felt like he was getting battered by small bits of glass. He trudged toward the barn, using the shovel to scoop through any drifts that got a little too big. When he got to the gate where he had found his neighbor, he saw that the snow had drifted so badly there that it was over the fence in places. He shoveled the gate clear just enough for him to open it, then pushed through. The area between the barn and the gate was almost bare, but the snow had drifted up against the barn itself, blocking both the big door and the smaller ‘people’ door. He shoveled that one clear, and pushed inside.

He was met with a chorus of nickers, bleats, screams, and brays.

He had been worried about water, not sure how he would get enough for the animals he knew were inside without power, but immediately his worry was eased when he saw the 55-gallon stock tank against the wall, full of water. The animals themselves were in stalls, the little grey horse in one, the donkey in another, and the five goats in the third, but there was a bucket next to the water tank that allowed him to transfer water from there to the buckets hanging in the stalls. There was a thin layer of ice over the water in the big tank, but it was easy to break through. Once he knew all the animals had water, he opened a bale of hay and distributed that, too. He wasn’t going to feed anything else without knowing what they all required; just hay would suffice for now, keeping their bellies full and their bodies warm. As he worked, it got darker and darker. The sun was setting. After topping off the water and giving the animals one final look over, he and BB headed back to the house. Most of the areas he had shoveled on the way to the barn were already drifted over once more.

Once back inside the house, the first thing he did was check on his patient. Both she and her dog were sound asleep. A wave of exhaustion washed over him and he looked at BB. “We should probably eat before sleep, huh?” The dog wagged his tail in response. “Let’s see what she’s got.” He moved to what he knew was most likely the dog kibble container and opened it up. The food was still in the bag, and he was happy to see it was a higher-end kibble, not the cheap crap. The little terrier had woken the moment he opened the container and was at his feet next to BB in a split second. Poe laughed. Finding the little dog’s bowl next to the container, he took an older looking plastic bowl from the cupboard and filled them both with appropriate amounts of food, then fed both dogs. As they ate, he searched the refrigerator, knowing most of the contents would probably go bad before the power came back so he might as well eat some of it. He was pleased to see some bottled water, and grabbed one up, drinking it down quickly. He also found slices of ham and lots of cheese, so he grabbed a pan and some bread and prepped a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches. He put the pan over the fire, and while he couldn’t hold it long enough to call them ‘grilled,’ it melted the cheese and was delicious. He let the dogs out, watching the little one carefully to make sure he didn’t stray too far into the snow, and finally he settled back in the recliner, watching the woman sleep.

He should find out her name, he thought idly. Her purse was on the counter near the back door and her wallet was most likely inside of it. And yet, he didn’t look. He preferred to wait until she woke up and told him herself. He snorted softly. As if he hadn’t had the chance to let her introduce herself in the past.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

******

He dozed, but didn’t sleep, so when both dogs started moving about and the little one started whining, he was awake immediately. He sat up straight from where he was slumped in the chair and looked over at his patient.

She was blinking, looking around her with confusion. She spotted him and her eyes widened. “Wha- what’s going on?” Her voice was rough and…she had an accent.

“You’re okay,” Poe told her softly. Her dog was clambering up her body, his tail wagging faster than lightspeed, and she reached out to pet him as she focused on Poe. “The power went out a while ago, but everyone is safe and warm in here.” He had spotted two more cats up in the loft, but only the orange one had ventured down for a brief time.

“What happened?” She started to sit up, clearing her throat. She rubbed her head, and he knew she probably had a headache due to not only whatever had caused the fever, but dehydration. He got up and moved to the kitchen, pulling a bottle of water out of the not-so-cold fridge. He opened it as he brought it to her.

“You had a fever,” he told her. “I found you passed out by your back gate in the snow.” He looked at his dog, who was looking back and forth between them. “Well, BB found you and let me know.”

He watched as she drank, then she focused on him again. “What time is it?”

Poe looked at his watch. “Almost midnight,” he told her, surprised himself it was so late. Maybe he had slept a bit in that chair. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

She took another drink and licked her lips. “I was calling in to the store. Talking to my manager. I was joking that I was glad it was supposed to blizzard because I didn’t feel well enough to come in, but calling in sick is tough.”

“Where do you work?”

“Bea’s Books.”

Poe nodded. He was familiar with the book store. The few times he visited town, he usually stopped there to stock up. “Your boss is a prick, huh?”

She laughed softly, and Poe found himself startled by the brilliance of her smile and the odd color of her eyes. “Yeah, she is,” the woman said, taking another sip from the bottle. She raised an eyebrow. “I own the store.”

Poe couldn’t help but laugh.

“I remember heading out to the barn,” she continued. “I remember making sure the stock tank was full and everyone had plenty of hay.” Her eyes widened again in panic. “The animals!“

Poe interrupted her. “I was out there just before sunset. Everyone is okay. I watered them and gave them more hay.”

She settled, nodding, then she focused on him once more. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Poe,” he said softly. “Poe Dameron.”

“Rey Skywalker.”

He nodded. “Related to the Skywalker who used to live here, I’m assuming?”

“My father,” she whispered, her expression turning sad. “He moved here after my mum died. He asked me to come, but I had a good job in Glastonbury and didn’t want to leave England. I had intended to visit this past spring, but something came up.” He saw a tear slide down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly, biting her lower lip. “I didn’t expect…”

Poe nodded, already thinking about his dad. “My mom died when I was a kid. And now I’m thinking I should maybe at least give my dad a call.”

She looked at him seriously. “Yes. You should.” She was silent for a while, then she cocked her head at him. “So, I suppose I should thank you for saving my life?”

Poe shifted in his chair, shaking his head. “You would have eventually come around and made it back to the house,” he told her, even though he didn’t believe it.

“Bullshit,” she quipped. “If I don’t remember you bringing me in here, taking off my clothes, and taking care of me for the last several hours, then odds are I would have just fallen asleep in the snow and never woken up.” She smiled slightly. “Thank you.”

Poe felt his face heat. “I didn’t take off your clothes,” he muttered.

She snorted a laugh, then winced and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, he could tell she was hurting. “I need to use the loo,” she said, pushing the blankets off of her legs and putting her feet on the floor. Poe jumped up and took a step toward her, holding out his hand. At first, she looked confused by his action, but then as she pushed herself up onto her feet, she wobbled and grabbed him. “Oh!”

“You’ve been out of commission for almost seventeen hours,” he told her. “You’re bound to be a bit weak.” He stepped into her and proffered his arm. “I’ll help you to the door.”

She took his arm and leaned on him as he slowly walked her to the bathroom, which fortunately was on the ground floor. As they walked the short distance, he asked about her remaining animals. “I’ve seen your cats, but I didn’t see where you keep their food or litter.”

“I have a walk-in closet upstairs that I use as their room,” she told him.

“I’ll go up and check their food and water, then,” he told her.

She just nodded, focused now on her destination. He let her go as she used the doorframe to support herself. “Just yell out when you’re done,” he told her, wondering if she actually would. She seemed pretty damn independent and stubborn.

He headed up the stairs to the large open loft area. A lovely four-poster bed sat near the far wall, which was almost all floor to ceiling windows, and a desk sat off to the left with a laptop and stacks of papers. The closet was on the right, and the whole wall it sat behind was covered in full bookshelves. Of course, the owner of a bookstore would be a bookaholic, he thought with a smile. He went into the closet, pulling out his phone to use the flashlight as the light from the fire below wasn’t enough to see by up here. Two covered litter boxes sat in the left side of the closet, and two water fountains, neither of which were running now that the power was out, sat on the opposite side. Two empty bowls were in the middle, but Poe found the cat food up on the shelf right above them, along with some more bottled water. The food was the same brand as the dog food, he saw. He filled the bowls, then took a couple of bottles and filled the fountains, which were both half empty. He wondered just how many cats she had; they were all hiding from him now.

He headed back down the stairs, unsurprised to see Rey already back on the couch, the big orange cat in her lap purring away. He sat back down in the recliner. “It’s cold up there,” he told her. “But not freezing.”

She nodded, but didn’t speak.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked. “I noticed you had cans of soup. It should be easy to warm up some over the fire.” He cocked his head. “Maybe some Tylenol, too?”

The corner of her mouth curled up. “There’s a bottle in my purse,” she said. “And yeah, soup sounds lovely. Bean and ham if possible.”

Poe moved to the fridge and pulled out another bottle of water, then grabbed her bag, taking both back to her. “What is it with women always carrying around pain meds in their purses?”

She snorted. “You try bleeding out your uterine lining every month, then ask that question.” She dug out a small pill bottle.

“Yeah, yeah,” Poe winced. He moved back to get a saucepan with as long as a handle as possible to put the soup in, also grabbing a can opener and spoon. He was glad he had snooped through the kitchen earlier when there was more light and knew where everything was. “So, if you moved here from England, how did you end up with so many animals?”

She swallowed down a couple of pills and looked at him. “I’ve just always wanted a little herd of goats. I love goats. So, I found them the day I moved here. Henry the donkey came with them.” She laughed. “I bought Feisty a month later when I realized I actually had room for a horse. I used to ride all the time as a child.” She shrugged. “Deo and the cats came with me.”

“How many cats do you have exactly?” he asked as he took the full pan over to the fireplace, carefully warming it up.

“Three. The two girls are shy. Thomas isn’t.” Both Thomas and Deo were on her lap now. The cat was bigger than the dog, he realized. “How about you? You mentioned calling your dad, so he must not live around here.”

Poe nodded slowly. “Upstate New York. It’s where I grew up.”

“How did you end up here?”

He shrugged, but stayed silent.

“Quid pro quo, Mr. Dameron.”

He winced, but nodded. “Lieutenant Colonel Dameron,” he muttered. “United States Air Force, retired.”

“Pilot?”

“Yeah. Mostly F-15s.”

“Combat?”

“Yeah.”

“And now you’ve become a hermit in the mountains,” she said softly. It wasn’t a question.

“Drones are taking over my job,” he said with a smirk.

“Yeah,” she replied sarcastically. “That’s why you left.”

She knew. Somehow, she knew. He had seen too much. Killed too many.

“I was a nurse,” she continued. “I worked in the ER for the last two years before I came here. The pay was good, but the things I saw…” She shrugged. “It was rough, but I bet it wasn’t even half as bad as war.”

Poe was silent for a while, stirring the soup, feeling the heat of the fire on his face. He knew she was waiting for him to say something, but she wasn’t going to pressure him. “When you’re a pilot, you can distance yourself from the violence,” he started. “You can shoot down other fighters and not think about the human element. You never see their faces. You never know their names.” He paused. “The base I was stationed at in Iraq was hit several years ago. The mess was the intentional target. Suicide bomber. I wasn’t there at the time, I was on the other side of the base, but I ran to help.” He took a deep breath. “Two of my friends were in there. Twenty people died. You couldn’t even match up the body parts.” The soup was starting to boil, so he pulled it away from the fire, stirring it as he walked back to the kitchen. “I was never the same after that.”

He set the pot on the stove and pulled down a couple of bowls from the cupboard. He poured the soup into the bowls, splitting it in half. “Last year, while I was training on the F-35, there was a malfunction in the pressure throttle. I had to eject. Broke my leg after landing in rough terrain. The plane just barely missed base housing. I still have nightmares where I’m watching from my parachute as it crashed, only this time taking out several houses with it.” He brought the bowls over to Rey, who was focused on him intently. He handed her one, then sat back in the recliner. “I was diagnosed with PTSD and Clinical Depression and offered early retirement. They said I’d probably had both since the incident in Iraq.” He gave her a wry smile. “Mental health isn’t really a priority in the armed forces, though it’s better now than it used to be.”

He started eating, suddenly self-conscious. He had never talked so much about his past to anyone, even the therapist he had been seeing before deciding to come here and use nature and solitude to help heal. Rey watched him for a while, then started eating as well. When they were finished, he took her bowl and his to the kitchen, leaving them in the sink to be washed whenever the water came back on. He added a couple of logs to the fire, then sat back in the chair. She had settled again, looking sleepy. The pain killers must be doing their job, because she looked much more comfortable.

“So, how did a nurse end up owning a bookstore?” he asked, super curious.

“It was my father’s,” she said softly. “I had the option of selling it, but… I like it. Just like I like living up here, even if it means getting snowed in from time to time.” She smiled at him. “I like my neighbor, too.”

He snorted, but gave her a soft smile in return. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to me. When this storm is over, I’m going back to ignoring you.”

“Wanna bet?”

******

When Poe woke up, he quickly realized two things immediately. One, was that Rey was not on the couch. And two, he couldn’t hear the wind anymore.

He sat up, pushing the footstool of the recliner down slowly (Rey had warned him the animals liked to climb underneath it when the footstool was up) and looked about the room. There was grey light coming in the windows, letting him know dawn was almost here, and the fire had obviously had more wood added to it recently. He heard a noise and turned his head to see Rey moving about the still dark kitchen.

“Hey,” she said when she saw him. She had the coveralls he had stripped from her yesterday morning in her hands.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, getting onto his feet and heading toward her.

“I was going to go check on the animals in the barn,” she said. Her voice was tentative. She didn’t sound enthused. “It looks like the storm’s over finally.”

He shook his head. “You were just unconscious with a severe fever, Rey. You do not need to be doing any physical work right now.” He reached forward and gently took the coveralls from her hands.

“I feel fine,” she argued.

He nodded. “But you’re still weak. And whatever it was that caused the fever could cause you to relapse if you stress your body too much. You’re a nurse. You know I’m right.”

She sighed and her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I wasn’t really looking forward to going out there, but you have your own life to get back to. You don’t need to still be babysitting me.”

“It’s my choice to take care of you, and that includes checking on your animals.” He laid her coveralls over a chair and started putting his boots on. “Do you want me to give them anything other than hay?” he asked.

“There are two plastic garbage cans in the tack room,” she said. “They’re labeled. The goats can have two scoops of the goat feed in the big, long feeder in their stall. Henry can have half a scoop of the horse feed, and Feisty can have a whole scoop. Their water will probably be frozen by now. There’s a mallet on the shelf in the tack room you can use to break the ice if you need to.” She paused. “I can make breakfast, at least. Do you like bacon, or are you not a meat eater?”

“Bacon isn’t meat,” he grinned. “It’s ambrosia.” He frowned. “Is it still good?”

Rey nodded. “I had some in the freezer. It looks like it’s just barely thawed. I should be able to fry it all up over the fire.”

“Okay. I’ll shovel a good path if I can, so you can get out there later.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Poe. For everything.”

He gave her a soft smile and pulled on his coat and gloves.

The temperature outside had to be at or near zero, but there was absolutely no wind, for which he was very grateful. He worked at shoveling a narrow path to the gate, then dug around the gate a little more so that he could close it and open it again without too much trouble. Once more, the area between the gate and the barn was almost clear of snow, but he shoveled all around both doors to the barn; he was pretty sure the animals would want to get out eventually. Once inside, he was surprised at how much warmer it was. The combined body heat of the animals and the drifted snow that had insulated the barn somewhat helped, he was sure. It was still well below freezing, though, and he did have to use the mallet to break up the ice. He watered them all, gave them more hay, then gave them the feed as Rey told him to. He doled out more water as most of them had drunk immediately after the first round, then headed back to the house. Hopefully the power would be back before Rey needed to come out again.

The house smelled amazing when he entered, and his stomach growled. Rey already had a stack of cooked bacon on a plate on the coffee table, as well as two glasses of juice and two bottles of water. The dogs were both eating kibble, and Rey was standing at the fire with another pan full of bacon, carefully flipping it with a pair of tongs. Her face was rosy from the heat of the fire, and her smile was bright when she saw him.

“All good?” she asked.

He nodded. “They all seem happy, if a bit bored.”

“Hopefully they can get out this afternoon for a while. I’ll need to clean their stalls.”

“I’ll help,” Poe said automatically as he stepped out of his boots and hung up his coat.

“Poe, you don’t-“

“I’ll help.”

She sighed and nodded toward the pan with the sizzling bacon on it. “This is the last of the package, so dig in.”

He sat on the recliner again, taking a sip of juice, then took a slice of bacon. He just nibbled on it, waiting for her to join him before really eating. It didn’t take long, and the smile she gave him as she added to the stack of bacon and sat down on the couch was even better than the food in front of him. They both began to eat, and while they did so, they talked about past winter storms they had both experienced. Having grown up in Southwestern England, Rey wasn’t used to much snow, and the bitter cold of the northern U.S. winters was unheard of. Poe had dealt with winter weather growing up in Northern New York, and heavy snows were not unusual, but this particular storm was bad in his experience, especially so early in the season. They wondered how people in town were faring. Did they have power? How long would it take the plows to make it out this far? Both of them decided they should probably invest in some emergency radios for use in future storms.

They continued to talk about everything and nothing for the next several hours. Around eleven, the sun came out, making the white outside blinding. They made cheese sandwiches for lunch, and Rey ventured into the chilly loft to clean litter boxes. The other two cats, a tuxedo named Tasha and a tortoiseshell named Freckles, followed her back down, watching both Poe and BB with wary eyes. In the afternoon, Poe helped Rey bundle up into her coveralls and they made their way out to the barn together. Rey made sure the gate was shut behind them, then she opened the big barn door and let everyone outside. Poe watched with her, laughing as the animals ran around cavorting in the snow, then he helped her clean out all of the dirty straw and frozen poop from the stalls, dumping it all behind the barn in what was essentially a compost pile. They added fresh straw, fresh water and food, and brought them all back in just before sunset. Poe had never really done anything with large animals before, but he found he really enjoyed the work. His beautiful companion was an added bonus.

Chilled but satisfied, they went back into the cozy house, where Rey warmed up a can of soup over the fire while Poe moved some more firewood in from outside. They ate quietly, both tired for different reasons, and once finished Poe stood to take both their bowls back to the kitchen.

“I should probably go back home now that I know you’re okay,” he said as he added the dishes to the small stack in the sink.

“It’s going to be freezing,” Rey countered. “A fire won’t be able to warm up your house after being cold for this long. Not easily.”

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll have to stay here at least one more night,” she said decisively. “If the power is back on by mid-day tomorrow, then you can get a fire started over there and let it warm up the house before tomorrow night.” She shrugged as he continued to look at her. “I’ll take the recliner if you want the couch.”

He snorted. “The recliner is fine,” he said softly. He wasn’t going to admit he was glad for one more night. It was crazy, but he didn’t want this forced proximity to end. He didn’t want to go back to being alone.

Rey shot him her thousand-watt smile and got up, passing him in the kitchen. “Let’s play some poker,” she said as she got a bag of potato chips and a large bag of M&M’s out of the cupboard, then grabbed a couple of cans of soda from the warm fridge. She held up the bag of M&M’s. “We can play with these!”

Poe laughed. “Game on!”

******

The power came back on sometime around three in the morning.

Poe woke when the light in the kitchen and the one next to the couch flicked back on, and immediately there was a clicking sound from the heating vents. He realized that not only was BB squeezed up next to him on the recliner, but Thomas the cat was sleeping on his lap as well. He smiled, then focused on the woman sleeping on the couch, her little dog and the other two cats curled up in various locations around her. He sighed heavily, knowing what the power coming back on meant.

He didn’t want to go back home, he thought. No. He didn’t want to leave this woman. She made him feel joy. She made him feel protective. She made him… feel. He didn’t want to lose that.

He realized her eyes were open and she was watching him, her sleepy gaze relaxed and trusting. He pulled his hand out from under his blanket and looked at his watch. There was no need to get up and start the day yet, he thought. He pushed his way past the two sleeping animals and got up out of the chair, then moved to turn off the lights, first the one in the kitchen, then the one next to the couch at Rey’s feet. When he turned back to the chair, both BB and Thomas had curled up in the middle of the seat. To add insult to injury, Deo had left Rey and jumped up on the chair to join them.

He heard Rey laugh softly and looked at her. With a raised eyebrow, she lifted the edge of her blanket in invitation. Poe hesitated. The couch wasn’t that big. It would be a tight fit. He took a step closer, sitting on the edge of the couch carefully, then lay down next to her, his back toward her. The two cats jumped up and moved away from him, but they didn’t go far. As he brought his feet up to the couch, she tucked the blanket over him, leaving her arm around his waist, spooning with him. He tensed, but he could feel her breathing deepen and knew she was already falling back to sleep, perfectly comfortable being so close to him. After a few minutes, he relaxed as well, and he joined her in sleep.

When he woke a few hours later, he was shockingly comfortable. He felt her move a little behind him and decided he better get up so she could get up as well; he didn’t need her climbing over him right now.

“It’s Sunday,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he responded. “So?”

“The store’s not open today.”

“You couldn’t even get there if it was,” Poe grumbled. “Which is good, because now you need to help me dig out my house.” He sat up as he said this.

She laughed. “Deal. After breakfast.”

“We can make some legit toast today,” he told her with a grin.

“And coffee!”

An hour later, they bundled up and headed outside with BB. They fed the animals and let them all out of the barn. Rey put a submergible heater into the water tank after they broke the ice and they left the door to the barn open so the animals could go in to eat and drink when they wanted. Together they then shoveled a path to his house, and Poe was grateful there was no fence between the yard part of their properties. There was a wooden post and rail fence that surrounded the back half of her property, and an old barbed wire fence around his. He wondered if she would like if he re-fenced his land with the same wooden fencing she had and allow her to use his pasture for her animals. Maybe he could get a horse of his own to add to the herd; he had ridden as a child, too, and missed it. The idea of roaming the mountains on horseback with this woman really appealed to him.

Once they made it to the house, he went in to turn up the heat. It was cold, but still above freezing inside, as the heat had been on, just not very high; he hadn’t had a chance to turn it up before BB had come to take him to Rey. The sun was out once again, and the temperature was a bit warmer than the day before, so he figured the house should warm up well before sunset. That thought didn’t really cheer him up. He had no reason to stay at Rey’s anymore.

They worked together to shovel his driveway, then hers. Right after they got the animals back in for the evening, they heard a loud roar coming from the road. They watched as a plow made its way past their houses, turned at the dead end where the gate for the neighbor’s cattle pasture was, then headed back toward town. “Looks like I’m going back to work tomorrow,” Rey said. He couldn’t tell if she was happy or sad about that fact.

“Then let me take you out to dinner tonight,” Poe responded.

She looked at him, startled. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I can get on-line, see what’s open. I’m sure a lot closed up even in town for a while.”

Suddenly, she was excited again. He left to go back to his house to shower and shave, then met her in front of her house. She was wearing a cute dark blue sweater dress with wool leggings and heeled boots. Her hair was loose around her shoulders. They decided her three-year-old SUV would be better to drive than his twenty-year-old pickup. He took her to the Bumpin’ Buffalo Bar and Grill, where he knew the food was good and the atmosphere pleasant. It wasn’t at all busy, and the staff was short a couple of people, but those that were working were on top of things, and the service and food were excellent.

“I’ll have to go shopping after work tomorrow,” Rey mused as they sat talking after the meal. “Replenish my fridge.”

“Yeah,” Poe nodded. He hadn’t had a lot in his fridge, fortunately, but he would need to get a few necessities.

Rey tilted her head at him. “Please tell me you’re not going to hide away again.”

“Would you let me?” Poe asked seriously.

She shrugged. “If you don’t want me around-“

“Oh, I want you,” Poe interrupted, his voice soft but intense. “In every way you’ll let me have you.”

Rey’s mouth formed a cute little ‘o’ and her eyes widened. Then she licked her lips and shifted in her seat. She focused on him. “Stay with me again tonight,” she whispered.

“Why?” he asked. “More poker?”

“Strip poker, maybe.”

Poe felt the corner of his mouth quirk upward. “If you want my clothes off, you can just ask.” He winced and looked down at the table. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any kind of protection.”

“I do.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

She gave him an embarrassed shrug. “A friend of mine gave me a box as a going away gift, sure I would find some hot American man immediately upon my arrival here. Sadly, it’s unopened.”

“You moved to the wrong place, I guess,” he told her. “No hot American guys here.”

“Wrong,” she said with a smirk. “Stupid man just ignored me for three months.”

Poe nodded. “He is indeed an idiot.”

Forty-five minutes later, Poe found himself on his back on the floor in front of Rey’s fireplace, watching the flame light up her naked body as she rode him. He had his knees up, his feet braced on the floor, his hands gripping her hips tightly as she bounced up and down on his cock. He moaned as he watched her small but perfect breasts jiggle with her movements, which were becoming erratic, then he stared in awe as the skin of her face turned a rose color, the blush extending down her neck and over the tops of her perky tits. Her thighs clenched tight around his hips and her cunt squeezed his cock as she shuddered and cried out above him.

Her shoulders drooped as she came down from her high, and her closed eyes opened to look at him in shock.

He pushed back on her hips. “Up! Up!” he told her, his breathing hard.

She whined, but she obeyed, sliding off of him and slowly getting to her feet. He forced himself to his knees, then he grabbed her thighs once more and pushed her gently back toward the couch behind her. She gasped softly as she fell onto the furniture and he scooted between her legs, pushing her thighs open without giving her a moment to think. He dived in, anxious to taste her glistening folds. He had wanted to go down on her first thing, but she hadn’t given him the chance, stripping naked as he built up the fire, then pulling him down to the blankets she had laid on the floor by his belt loops. Somehow, his clothing was eventually discarded, piece by piece.

But now it was his turn to control things, and he was determined to make her come on his tongue. He reveled in the squeals and sighs and “Oh, my God! Poe!” He thrilled at the feel of her fingers in his hair, first combing it, then gripping it hard as her back arched and her thighs closed around his head. He played with her clit, sucking on it, then fucked her with his tongue, moaning into her as he felt a fresh wave of her juices flow out. Poe had always considered himself experienced at cunnilingus, and had never left his partners wanting, but he had never tasted a woman as amazing as this one, whose reactions were so honest and powerful and beautiful. When she came again, sobbing his name, he felt proud and humbled at the same time.

He straightened up, watching her carefully as she reclined back on her elbows, trembling. When she opened her eyes to look at him, her expression made him smile. She bit her bottom lip, her gaze moving downward where his cock, condom still on, was standing stiff against his belly. She met his eyes once more, a small smirk appearing on her lips, then she shoved herself up and moved past him. He turned to watch as she kneeled down on the blankets, her back to him, then dropped her front end down so she was on all fours. She looked at him over her shoulder and wiggled her ass.

“Fuck!” he hissed as he turned and moved toward her, dropping down on his knees once more, this time behind her. He took himself in hand and slid into her weeping pussy. She gave a high-pitched moan as he sank in, balls deep. “You okay?” he huffed, knowing she must be super sensitive.

“Oh, yessssss,” she sighed.

He started thrusting, trying to go slow, but not succeeding. The way she moved underneath him. The sounds she was making. The way she smelled. The feel of her tight, wet cunt gripping him. He couldn’t hold on to his control any longer. He started plunging into her, over and over and over. She responded by lowering her upper body to the floor and saying “Yes! Oh, my God, yes! Please! Harder! Oh, fuck me hard! Poe!”

He felt her body spasm right before his own body convulsed, and he threw his head back, shouting out as he emptied himself. “Oh, God! Rey!”

When he could focus again, he pulled out of her and carefully removed the condom, tying it off and tossing it into the fire. He reached for Rey, wrapping his arms around her waist as she giggled, watching the condom melt in the flames. He sat back on his heels and pulled her up so she was sitting on his thighs. She let her head fall back onto his shoulder and she sighed heavily, then shuddered, and he realized her giggles had turned into sobs.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said pushing her away and encouraging her to turn and face him. He sat so his back was against the couch and straightened his legs, then pulled her into him again. She straddled him and let herself fall against him, once more laying her head on his shoulder as he held onto her tight. “You okay?” he asked softly into her hair. “I didn’t hurt you?”

She shook her head. “No,” she said. “Far from it. I just…” she paused. “It’s never been like that before. I used to hear people talk about how great sex was, and it never was for me, but that… I don’t even have words for how amazing that was.”

“It was pretty fucking incredible,” he agreed. “I haven’t even been interested in sex in years. Too busy in my own stupid brain. But you… you made me feel again, Rey. It’s never been that good for me.”

She sat up and looked at him. “So, you’re not going to go back to ignoring me?” She had a smile on her face, but her eyes were serious. She was really worried this was a one-time thing.

“Impossible,” he whispered, reaching up to stroke her face. “How it happened this fast, I don’t know, but I want you in my life forever, Rey.” He swallowed. “Is that scary?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it is scary. But it’s right.” She leaned forward to kiss him, then nuzzled his nose with hers. “It’s perfect. I love you, Poe. And I want to keep making you feel. I want to help you heal. I want to grow old with you.”

He snorted. “I’ll be getting there sooner than you, I’m afraid,” he joked. “But I would be honored to share my life with you, Rey Skywalker. I love you, too.”

Suddenly, BB, who was curled up with both Thomas and Deo on the recliner, his new favorite spot, whined. Poe and Rey both looked at him, noticing that the dog was looking out the side window.

“Hey, it’s snowing again,” Rey said.

Poe looked at her and smiled. “Let it snow.”

THE END

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Can be read platonically or romantically/beginning of relationship.

Summer Celebrations were well underway, and the Lounge was blossoming. The seamless designs of glass walls and cavern arches blending into familiar walls was time staking. Some portions and rooms weren’t exactly symmetrical, and other areas were some interesting shapes but he loves it. He loves the work and painstaking time he put into it.  

Yuu did as well, he knows that. Often finding her simply curled up on the couches facing the tanks and watching the wave of coral and fish. It was one of the reasons she got along so well with all three of them. An appreciation for land, but a fascination with the ocean. Where he found calm and intrigue on the sands, she found it within the waves.  

But he hasn’t found her curled on the couches, or even lingering in the breakrooms. She wasn’t stopping to chat with any coworkers, or even eating during her required breaks. Her jaw was clenched, her smile polite but tight, and she had even snapped at Floyd. She had apologized immediately afterwards, but the point stood.  

Azul thinks he knows exactly what it is, when he sees her fidget with her uniform again as she ran food. Azul thinks he understands exactly.  

It’s the end of the night, and he asks to see her after changing out of her uniform. When she walks in, she looks tired, that’s not unusual. What is the obnoxiously large black hoodie and sweatpants.  

“Ms. Yuu,” Azul starts, setting aside his pen, “Welcome! May I offer you a drink?” 

“I thought we were past the point of pleasantries, Azul.” she sighs, trying to muster a smile. “What do you need?”  

“Very well, to the point then.” He circles to the front of the desk, leaning against the front. “I’ve received some reports of some out of character behavior from you-” 

“Has it impeded my job?” she interrupts.  

“...No.”  

“Have I been harmful to the business or my coworkers?” she asks, hands tight in her pockets. 

“No.” he sighs, crossing his arms. 

“Then you have nothing to worry about and it’ll pass. If that’s all-” 

“Fine!” he snaps, standing fully. “Fine, I’m not asking as your boss. I’m-as your friend. As somebody who-I think what-maybe...” 

“Where’d that silver tongue go, eh?” she laughs but it’s humorless.  

“Oh, hush!” Azul was never good at this part, fixing his glasses “I’m getting there.”  

He looks out the window of the VIP room, into the lounge itself. They both watch the slow movement of a shark across the room. 

“Floyd tells me that he sees you all the time at the gym recently, at least twice a day. I’m guessing that’s where you're going now?” She doesn’t say anything, pulling the hoodie closer to her body. Azul would understand, she thinks, she knows he might, but she doesn’t know if he could handle her like. If she trusts him enough to not use it as blackmail in the future. But if anybody would understand in this college of entitled, take everything for granted- 

“I lost 50 lbs.” He flinches. “I lost it. I gained muscle and strength. I worked. I worked damn hard. I’m proud of the work I have put in. But I’m never-” she looks down at her shoes, “I’m never going to look like people like Floyd or even Deuce. All the extra fucking skin-”  

He nods, feeling his own throat tighten. Yes, nobody mentions how it hangs, how the stretch marks reach for any available surface. That the mirror never looks right compared to what you can do.  

“And I just-It’s not fair. I know life isn’t fucking fair but damn it!” Her hands wave at her figure before just ripping the hoodie off. “When does it get better?” she looks at him, gesturing to her body, “When-” she chokes, gripping at the baggy t-shirt. “When do I finally get to feel beautiful?” 

He pulls her close, her head dropping to his shoulder and muffling the sounds of quiet tears. Tears that he recognizes all too well. His arms go around her waist, rubbing her back and letting her go. It’s not uncomfortable, surprisingly. Even when she hugs him back, arms wrapped his waist, and he doesn’t worry if she can feel his body through the shirt. It’s perhaps the first time that has ever happened.  

“I can’t tell you that.” he whispers. “But I can tell you that I like you regardless. I enjoy you regardless. I will continue to. And that until you can believe so and even after, I will find you absolutely lovely.”  

Yuu nods, and neither of them say anything when they finally separate and there is a wet spot on her shoulder.  

“I will believe for you too.” She whispers, wrapping the hoodie around her waist. 

Azul only smiles softly. There is a small part of him that wants to disregard it or laugh it off. It’s what he’s done with every other person who has ever hinted as much, even the twins. But a smaller part, smaller than the little pot that he grew up in, wants to believe her.  

[dollboyism]

College AU | Sukuna x Transmasc!Reader - Part 1

MDNI - underage people dni/dnr with this PLEASE Transferring to a new college in your second year should have been a breath of fresh air - far from your hometown, you considered this change of surroundings to be your anchor, a new start. New experiences, new friends, a new life away from prying eyes. And yet, just when you were sure nothing could go wrong, luck has outplayed you: beer in hand, a misstep. Liquid running down a scowling, pink-haired guys shirt. Little did you know an apology would not cut it. Soon, you would find yourself encountering the same judging eyes, turning your dreams for a fresh start into nothing but a nightmare.

word count: 7k

tags: longfic, alternate universe - college + no curses, slowburn, hurt/comfort, sexual content, transphobia and gender dysphoria, mental health issues, reader has anxiety/is a mad pushover sometimes, eventual soft sukuna, junpei is alive <3, organized crime(eventually...), everyone has their canon scars etc. + Reader either pre-T or in beginning stages of it, up for interpretation.

dividers by saradika-graphics

nav // part 2

Overwhelmed.

Catching your breath, you press your cheek against the soft warmth underneath you, someone's arms keeping you still. Your chest rises and falls, lips part after a strained gulp. Your dazed eyes look to the distance, away from the bed, then focus back on the tattooed flesh you are resting on. Your heart thumps in your ears, making it difficult to snap out of it and get ahold of yourself.

As a hand finds itself running up and down your back, lips landing on your forehead with a questioning hum, you try to understand how you ended up in this situation. Your eyes shut closed.

Faint music plays in the background.

Hmm...

It's a faint melody...

Getting closer..

Is that buzzing?

... 

Shit!

You jolt up on your bed, quickly patting down your surroundings as you grab ahold of your phone, flipping it to check your time. Shit! You're late to class! Quickly throwing on some clothes, grabbing a banana from the fridge, you run out of your dorm, giving your hair a tight wrap in the midst of the motion - the door opening and closing with a whiny creak. Running down the stairs, you shout a stuttered hello back to a passerby.

"Hel-"

"HELLO!!!"

You finally break out of the student housing, dashing past two-story buildings with wires overhead, your feet are already starting to hurt as you try to cut the 5-minute stroll by half, or even less than that. Left turn, right, past the park, ah, parking lot.. You stare back at your map to check the number. S5. Almost there! You circle the building, running past the Science Lab and three lecture halls. You find yourself panting as you rest your palms onto your lap, having finally met the entrance sign, bold letters.

WELCOME TO...

At last, you half-jog into the classroom just before it hits 8:50. You straighten up so nobody looks at you weird, slow down and get yourself a seat, further back in the room. As you catch your breath, you stare at the clock, then the professor, as he greets the class. Leaning back into your seat, you slowly unpack your things until your eyes land on your phone.

New message, from him.

Ueeeehhh...

This is not how you wanted your first week to start.

You're new here, having just moved universities. Due to different courses and classes, you have to take some additional required classes from the previous year, and the schedules look to be clashing for now. Maybe they’ll get changed later, but chances are, you’ll be running from building to building at least twice per week. Attendance matters more than homework here, so you wonder how you’ll manage. Though, at least the students don’t seem like they would be causing trouble.

The entrance ceremony was just a few days ago - it had you worried sick with the amount of new faces and the vastness of the place, all the chatter.. There were so many people - exciting, but also so nerve wracking - it is a funny thing, you longed for such an environment since getting to the city, but also found it overwhelming all the same. You remember sitting near a trio of friends, they were mostly arguing between each other, but you couldn't hear about what. The girl was the louder one, clearly winning the argument over a pink haired guy, who seemed to be begging or whining about something. Some kind of movie night planning, but whatever he chose was too boring for her. Seated nearby, you were bound to get invited to the argument, as she asked you if you’ve ever heard of the movie…

Eh, back to earth. Class has started.

You sigh, focusing your vision on the notebook in front of you, drawing lines atop the paper to divide it into little boxes for the title, description, main writing... And a little corner at the edge for doodling. The lecture goes on without problem. It's only been a few minutes, like five at best. With a steady heartbeat, you decide to finally scan the room as you notice one peculiar student - his pink hair sticking out, sitting at the other end of the room. Your eyes meet, he hums and waves at you wordlessly. You do the same.

He seems nice enough, you think. The lecture goes on - you fidget with your pen, eye twitching - The more time passes, the more you feel yourself inching to check your phone. You take notes, read sentences, yet at the back of your mind dance around thoughts of the stranger. Seriously, of all times to pick.. Unable to resist the urge, you peek at your screen and scroll up, seeing that pinned notification.

“Morning, cutie.”

You feel your cheeks go warm. You were riding the high of moving out of your hometown into the vast, blossoming city of Yokohama. You could pretty much lose yourself in this crowd and nobody would even notice - a breath of fresh air from your previous state. However, it seems all of that excitement got to your head, and you got a bit impulsive. Drunk, and impulsive. Really, all it took was a few taps on the screen and a gay dating app finds itself in your hands. Only the day after did you realize the shit you got yourself into, cursing yourself as you try to wipe away the messages from the day before, as if rubbing at the screen would cause them to disappear.

What if you just ghost him? Sure, he's got a hot body, but do you really feel like dating him? Or hooking up? What if he's some homophobe lurking on the app? What if he doesn't like you? Maybe he's a bot, you should probably ask him a math question - or wait, no, don't ask anything, don't text him!!!

"Are you alright?" A classmate asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You nod, rubbing at your neck as you get your facial expression straightened out. Look at the board, copy keywords from it.. Ah, still the introduction to Plato. Nothing new was missed then. Still, you mull over.. Is something wrong with you? Maybe you just need to adjust to this, after all you could not be openly queer without shame. Don’t let your fears ruin this , you think to yourself, you probably just need to take a leap of faith . Your finger hovers over the send button after you type out a single hi, which takes a lot of energy out of you. Casual greetings, asking how he is. 

“ I'm alright. Just finished working out.”, his message reads. Mulling over a response, you text back:

 “ Ah, rest well and have enough protein then!”

 He takes a lot of time to text back, so you leave your phone be, to write down some summaries for yourself, keeping tabs on the chat through your peripheral vision. As you notice a yet another message bubble appear, your skips a beat for the Nth time.

“Worrying about me that much? Cute.”

You don’t even realize you’ve been staring at the screen for a minute straight, your eyes getting irritated from the lack of blinking, the word cute repeating, no, echoing in your vision and ears, completely missing the follow-up message:

“How are you?”

“I'm okay. In class right now.”

“ Tsk. Pay attention then.”

You purse your lips, embarrassed, and follow suit.

Walking out of the lecture room, you get a can of soda from the vending machine and walk to the cafeteria. It is around a ten minute walk. There are many students outside, going in different directions. You take the longer, quieter route, your eyes following the familiar walls and signs. You pass by bushes, trees, street signs, the park, and finally - you reach the cafeteria. There are a lot of tables, a lot of people. It's a bit disorienting at first. Entering the queue, you look over the menu from afar, scanning the options by name and visual. Humming to yourself, you decide to go for ramen over potato salad today. Maybe you should meal prep for tomorrow?

You decide to sit closer to the window, enjoying some solitude, watching cars pass by. It will be a while until another lecture - you still have around 40 minutes on you to finish lunch. You figure to spend that time scrolling through social media and enjoying music. You put on your headphones, reminiscing over the news and latest events shown on screen, as a familiar melody caresses your ears, making you feel as if in a little bubble - nobody comes in, nobody comes out, just you, your food, the tab of the can you keep fidgeting with back and forth and..

You notice someone pass by in your peripheral vision, a muffled voice.. You push your headphones back to hear them speak after being poked in the shoulder. “Mind if I sit here?” A toothy smile greets you, worn by the same pink-haired boy. You shake your head no in response and greet him curtly after you swallow your bite. He sits at the chair, opposite of you, placing his lunch down.

“You're new here, right? I'm Itadori Yuji.” He extends his hand.

“Ah hi, I'm…” You clear your throat before saying your legal name, and introduce yourself properly. Feels nice to have your chosen name finally be used. He keeps eye contact while shaking your hand and hums.

“It's nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. Second year, right?”

“Yup. Education faculty. You?”

“Ah, urban science.”

 “Cool, then we will have some classes in common.” He stretches and shifts his weight on the seat, stabbing at his meal as he puckers his lips - awkward silence. “Don't feel too awkward to ask me or my friend Fushiguro for help, he's better at this subject than me, honestly.” He looks at your notes after a beat, then grins awkwardly. You smile weakly. He is a bit hyperactive, but not malicious. He fidgets, tapping his leg against the floor, before finally asking:

“Sooo, you wanna eat with my friends? They’re under the urban faculty, too.” He draws out the sentence for a bit, then points to the table further into the centre of the room. There they are, the one with black hair, neutral facial expression, you assume that’s Fushiguro, and the girl - you didn’t catch her name just yet. She’s got short brown hair, side bangs, an eyepatch on one eye. You hum and nod slowly. Standing up, you hold the platter and follow behind as he talks about something - philosophy homework, was it?

You sit down and just listen to their conversation after exchanging introductions. You learn their majors, one of which was easy to guess - The girl, whose name you now know is Kugisaki Nobara, is leaning into fashion design studies. You hum along to their conversations and look to your lap as you eat. They’re not too imposing on you, which is nice. The girl compliments your bracelet - you thank her and compliment her phone charm back, avoiding looking at her patch - alienating someone else is the least of your plans. The charm is made of a few pastel pink beads, with little animal-shaped add-ons per each fourth row.

“Thanks. It’s a parting gift from a friend.” She replies back, leaning against her seat.

“Ah.” You smile politely. “Looks cool.” 

You check the time on your phone. Just twenty minutes left or so, then another class starts, and the lecture room for this one is relatively close to the cafeteria - you check the map in your gallery again to make sure and nod to yourself. Other peoples’ voices become one mixed up muffled noise as you focus on your ramen, chewing through the meaty parts. Yum.

“So?”  Itadori repeats.

“Hm?”

“What are your hobbies?” He asks for the second time, still enjoying his meatballs with veggies on the side, voice a bit muffled from eating and talking. The corners of your lips slightly raise in a smile as Kugisaki scolds him for chewing so loudly, giving you time to mull over your answer. Resting your chin on your fist, you let out a hum, thinking - there’s no wrong answer,  yet you still hesitate.

“Ah, well..Photography, uh.. Comic books..” You start out quietly, smiling awkwardly as you stare to the ceiling, then back to Itadori. His eyes light up almost immediately.

“Comics!!” He exclaims and leans over the table, getting closer to you - A wide grin on his face. “Me too!” What kinda comics you into??”

“Ah, uh- I mean- Like," You mentally slap yourself for using that filler word, quieten down for a second and let out: "Junji Itos' stuff is pretty cool. Oh, and One Piece.."

His eyes lit up more than before, causing you to grin awkwardly - you can't help, he looks very cute when excited! The two of you talk on and on about comics - and you find out that there is an actual club for comic and movie lovers at your university, which seems to be a fun after-class activity to join. You write down a note on your phone about it to not forget to check it out later.

"That sounds pretty fun.." You murmur to yourself, then look up at Itadori. "Thanks."

In the midst of this little break in conversing, Kugisaki raises her hand, directing your attention to her.  “You coming to the party?”

You blink, turning to look at her. “Party?”

“Ah right! I came up to you first to ask if you're coming to the party, we texted about it in the group chat” Itadori explains himself and looks over to you, an apologetic grin on his face. 

“Where?” You ask curiously.

“The Angel club near the Koganecho station.” Fushiguro explains, speaking up for the first time. You make eye contact with him, then to Itadori as he adds on:

“Sort of like preparation for the semester and to get to know newbies. Starts at nine. You wanna come with?”

You think to yourself.

College party. Loud music, bright lights, people making out and yelling - you assume a combination of all above will happen and be common with the place he mentioned, after all, the parties you went to were only hosted by your school itself. No alcohol, no nothing. You lean back, thinking to yourself.. It is a bit of a nerve wracking scenario to be in, but also…Exciting. 

“Is it gonna be loud as hell?”

“Nothing too crazy.”

Looking at the trio, you are met with this picture: The three of them looking at you with interest, each waiting with varying levels of interest for your response. You shrug - it's your first week, you’ve yet to have found your footing. FOMO would eat you alive, going alone would be boring - Maybe going in a group to a place like that would be better than alone, and they usually have quiet spots at these clubs, right? You’ve had enough of being homebound before moving to the city. You’ve been looking forward to a real college experience, and maybe this would be the start of it. Nothing too crazy, as Fushiguro said. 

This is supposed to be your time to shine. Make some new friends. Itadori and the other two seem friendly.

“I’ll be there. And, invite me to that group if you can?”

In theory, dressing up should not be this hard. In theory, though. You run your hand over the wrap on your hair and sigh, staring back to the loads of clothes at your bed. With a heavy sigh, you try out yet another, simpler outfit, looking at yourself in the mirror right after. Jeans, button up, a jacket…Color matched, at least. You can’t afford to mull over it any more - you might be late! You shrug at yourself, pouting, and turn to the side, checking if your binder is covering things fine. Spacious enough to not choke at your ribs, functional enough to not make your chest clockable. Still, a slight bump is there that you don’t like. As a last resort, you throw on a shoulder bag, resting it atop your chest for more camouflaging. You put some essentials in the front pocket - keys, cash, etc..

Good enough. Now, hurry the hell out! Some steps there, some turns here, you walk your way to the exit. You step outside, walking to the bus stop - first you get to the station closest to the uni, then you get off at Koganecho.. You tap at your maps app, tilting your head and following the directions. The sky is a darker blue, it’s rather warm, not very windy. So you don’t have much to regret with not taking warmer clothes with you. You brought a mini umbrella just incase - April and rain go hand in hand this year. Holding onto the railing of the bus to find your footing as the vehicle stops near the station entrance, doing just the same at the metro itself, scrolling through cached games and downloaded comics on the way there. You get off and look to the street signs, calmly walking your way to the direction of the Angel club. It would be fun to go with Fushiguro or Kugisaki together  since they’re under the same faculty as you, but.. You don’t know them much. Going alone feels easier, gets you to prepare better.

…

Loud, sure. Bright lights? Not too flashy. People making out? Not much. Yelling? Lots of it, people are singing along to the music coming from the speakers. You stand outside the club for a bit, looking through the entrance glass, shifting your weight from one foot to another. You’ve come a bit earlier than others, so you decide to lean against the wall and scroll on the phone for a bit before getting in - no need to get lost in the crowd. You open an app folder to click on the music app, but hesitate as you notice the very familiar chat icon, thumb hovering right over it. Ah.. You think to message that stranger again.

“You busy?”

You eye the timestamp on top, and hum. Probably busy. You scroll down, checking your notifications and notice a group-chat invitation, the sender being Itadori. You click “accept” and scroll the chat for a bit, smiling at the emoticons and memes used there. Seems nice. Homey. It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for the group to arrive, either. You see some similar faces, some from third year. Greeting them politely, you follow them into the establishment. You eye the entrance, bar, dance floor, and seating area to the side. You decide to get a drink first before sitting down. You notice a familiar pair walk in - Fushiguro and Kugisaki. Probably still waiting for Yuji - they don’t move from the entrance. You train your eyes back to the bartender.

“Ah, excuse me..” You speak up a second time so the bartender can hear you over the music. You order your drink and tap on the wood absentmindedly, waiting and looking at the crowd once more. There is Itadori, talking with someone, dragging another to the dance floor - you squint and notice that it’s Fushiguro. You chuckle and look further to the right - other students are the same - dancing, sitting and chatting, some smoking at the balcony, and of course, the usual patrons. You shrug to yourself. Paying for your drink, you slowly make your way to the seating area, making sure to avoid any obstacles as you hold your drink in one hand, covering the rim with the other. Someone calls a name out. Once, twice. Okay, now louder…

Ah, they’re referring to you! Just as you spin to meet eyes with an excited Itadori waving his arms to invite you to the dance floor, you suddenly feel something press against your shoulder, causing you to fall forward and collide with what seemed to be a wall. So does the drink you oh so carefully held by the rim, tipping over and landing against bright-white wallpaper. Wait, aren’t the walls in here black? You jolt and stagger backwards only to realize that you didn’t just collide with a wall, but a person. You blink a few times as you process their pink hair, then their scowling face - Definitely not Itadori - and..Ah. Oh. You stained their shirt.

“Sorry!” You apologize immediately, wide eyed, and glance upwards yet again only to see a pair of red eyes staring down at you. Straight nose, red eyes, grown out dark roots showing a bit, must've been a week or two post-dying his hair. His eyebrow raises, looking you up and down. For a second there, his facial expression looks almost cute, handsome in his surprise, until he gets his focus back, feeling his friend's eyes on him and frowns at you, distaste filling his eyes.. Looking you up and down, as if having already read you, the man's eyes then fill with indifference after a huff. He scowls, curses something to himself and passes you by, giving you a harsh shove as you try to cover what was left of your drink from the second impact.

Something like, watch where you walk, or, idiot . He tugs on his shirt, his knuckles turning white, as if holding back on an outburst due to being in public - or you looking like a freshman. You gulp, still processing the events that happened in just under a few seconds, then do the cowards walk to the balcony to avoid the stares and questioning eyes from others. 

Your heart thumps in your ears, and god they feel hot to the touch just from the embarrassment of it all! You cover one ear, trying to get the thumping to stop. You just went to a party with these people for the first time and what is the second thing you do right after getting a drink? Of course, spill it on some assholes’ shirt! Your life is over! You groan and sit at the chair, pouting at your spilled drink - some of it got on your shirt too, but that’s the least of your worries right now.

“Let it go, Sukuna! She’s just some newbie after all..” One of Sukunas friends comment as they walk by the balcony, unaware you’re there. You cringe internally and grip at your wrist, staring down at the ground. You bite your lip and try to fight back the wave of dysphoria crashing over you - just why? You tried. You hid your frame, you had your binder, you made sure to not act effeminate, performed and performed and got your act right - but the moment you got startled your voice became high pitched again. Or is it your hair? Height? What the hell was it now?!

Fuck. You lean against the railing behind you and grip the armrest of the chair tight, staring out to the car lane… Alright. You can feel yourself reach a limit.

Breathe in, blow out the flowers, again, and again, you stutter out your breaths until they even out, slowing… You breathe in sharply at last and close your eyes. Get your shit together. This isn’t the most life-wrecking mistake to make in your first week. At least you didn’t.. Your mind can’t make up examples, but surely it isn’t so bad. You turn to leave the balcony, only to get startled by the sight of Fushiguro leaning against the entrance frame. Just when did he get in here?

“You alright?”

You nod and grin weakly. “Just an embarrassing moment.” You say with a shrug, trying to act chill. Or at least chill-like. 

“Ah.. Ignore him. He’d pick a fight with a wall just for being in his way.” He shrugs and backs away from the frame. “Come sit with us soon?”

You nod at him. He hums and goes back to the crowded party. Sukuna… You finally register the name once calm and think it over a few times, wondering why it sounded so familiar to you. You can’t wrap your mind around it. Maybe he has a similar name to a classmate? Su…Su… You pout, thinking to yourself even as you get to the seating area, waving to your new friends as you sit at the end of the lounge chair. You see Fushiguro exchange a brief look with a few, as if they were talking of something.. Your eyebrow quips.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Itadori asks, offering a treat to you - an Edamame. They got some sweets while you were busy pouting at yourself on the balcony, they adorn the table. Your mouth waters a bit - quickly, you thank him and take a bite, then shake your head after a beat. 

“Nothin’.”

He hums. Kugisaki just fiddles with her phone charm and looks away. It’s obvious: They all saw the interaction, but won’t comment on it for your sake. And you’re better off without having awkward conversations, anyway. In the midst of the conversation, you catch yourself tapping at your phone, pretending to have a message, and stiffen. With a quick headshake, you pull at the zipper of your bag and slide your phone in. Fidgeting with it nervously when you’re supposed to relax and get to know people is a no-go. You join the conversation, slowly, a relaxed smile landing on your face.

There are some new faces - friends of the trio, they study over at Tokyo, though. Zenin Maki - a tall girl with short black hair, with some markings on her face and her forearms -  is a stern looking political science student, sitting next to her is a man named Okkotsu Yuta - a psychology student with a kind smile but very tired-looking eyes. He has a ring on his finger that he fidgets with a lot, which you focus on for a bit until moving on. Ah, and Junpei - or more like, he was supposed to come but couldn’t. Some sort of movie marathon night. 

“Sounds fun.”

“Eh. Just a bunch of horror movies again.” Maki waves her hand. They talk about assignments, projects, portfolio work - Kugisaki begins showing off her sketches for the next week, taking in some critique - mostly praise. You eye her drawings silently and hum along. 

“I’ll get another drink. You want anything?” You ask and look around the table. Yuta politely asks for one, you nod. As you order the drinks, you notice in your peripheral, a man sitting at the bar stool. A double take makes you realize that it’s Sukuna, and he still looks pissed off. Before he catches your gaze, you quickly look away. Thank god you didn’t stand close to him! Tense, your shoulders stiffen, you side-eye him once more, just to make sure. He is sitting there, arms crossed, a black shirt on. His white shirt on the table, still stained, still damp - evidence of your fuckup clear. Maybe you should apologize? Offer a napkin? You purse your lips, taking a few seconds until you straighten your back and breathe in quickly. You eye the bar table and notice a batch of napkins. You could ask for some. You pay for the drinks and thank the bartender, fidgeting with their covers - at your request, they came with safety caps, and.. - You hesitate.

Come on, just apologize and move on. Nothing bad. 

You fidget, still standing near the bar. You look over your shoulder, then to the napkins, barista, Sukuna, napkins- Ahhh!!! You muster up the courage to call for the barista. “Sorry, could I take a few?” You point at the napkins. He nods calmly and moves back to the other end of the counter. You pick up a few, carefully, and head to the end of the stool as planned. Around five minutes passed after you first left to get the drinks, maybe some more due to you stalling. Embarrassment does not seem to cover what you feel as you slowly inch closer to the man, who has his back facing you, and try to get his attention. You open your mouth, then think back on it and just tap his shoulder. He turns his head and gives you a glare.

“Uhm, sorry.” You retract immediately and raise a hand in an i-come-in-peace gesture, cringing. “..I wanted to apologize for the mess..” You say a bit louder to be heard over the music and place napkins near where his palm rests on the table. “I think I saw a heater around here, you might be able to dry your shirt without burning it. Or somethin’. ” 

Sukuna looks at you, eyebrow raised, then gives a quick glance to the napkins. Back to you. Back to napkins.. His expression changes to a mix of annoyance and confusion as he speaks out, loudly: “I don’t need this.”  He cocks his head, looking up at you again. His voice is a bit low, but not sounding as pissed off or bassy as before - a strange mix. The man's red eyes pry at yours, as if confused as to why you’d even offer him anything, or approach him in the first place. He scowls, trying to read you, and this is where it clicks for you.

Did he take this act as something rude? Or a suck up gesture? Ah fuck!!!  

You grin like a dummy, eye twitching in a nervous tic. “Sorry.” You apologize again in a mumbling, awkward manner and take a few steps back to the stool you were seated at just a few seconds ago. Your hands find the now-covered drinks, and your feet lead you away from the stool, back to the lounge chair, each drink in hand - slowly, trying to not bump and spill them again, even with their caps on. 

Back at the seating area, you sip at your drink until the space around you gets all floaty and muffled. You blink slowly, following along to whatever conversation your classmates are having. The back of your head finds refuge against the softness of the sofa, eyes staring at the ceiling with colors-a-plenty reflecting against it, like watercolor bleeding towards the back of a thin paper. A few minutes pass - You look to your classmates, then to the table, your hands, holding a now empty glass - behind yourself, at the dancing ground, and see him again, grumpy, staring down at a person standing or half-dancing near him, grumbling something at them. They look to be listening but not very receptive or angry at his behalf. White hair with red streaks, a stylish suit on.. They look cute! But with that guy ranting at them, though...

You remember, suddenly, a meme of a drunk guy talking about something very emotionally to a girl who couldn’t give less of a damn and snort to yourself, causing a few people on the couch to peek at you curiously. You smile nervously and look to the side. “Sorry, random memory.”  It's either the buzz from the little alcohol you had, or the awkward mini - interactions, or you just need to have a single conversation where you don't end up embarrassed - but for whatever reason you still feel flustered as hell. You pout and let out a sigh. You lock eyes with Itadori for a sec, then notice the others eyeing you curiously, still. You clear your throat and decide on a quick topic change:

“Have y’all seen that new horror movie?”

..Right.

You sip some water, slowly getting out of the dizzy spell you got into back at the club. It is now 11:30 pm - way too late to catch a bus after getting back to the nearby station, but a nightwalk to the dorm isn’t an issue for you, a good walk and some fresh air is sure to get you relaxed and tired - straight to bed...Possibly. Kugisaki and Fushiguro take the metro with you, though there’s not much to talk about - Megumi stares at the wall in front of him, Nobara taps away on her phone, possibly messaging a friend or so - without Itadori here as a conversation carrier, you feel too shy to really..Say much. Except for thanking them for the invitation, some pleasantries to exchange on their university work - Fushiguro had some nice stuff going there, already setting up to volunteer and intern. So, that small talk goes smoothly.

At least they don’t hate you, right?.. Ah, you’re still tipsy for sure, especially for having these thoughts. You tap your forehead and sigh, then turn to them once more.

"It was fun today." You whisper quietly, then look to the blinking light at the ceiling of the carriage. 

"Yeah."

Getting out of the station, you find your breaths turning into little clouds before you, your nose feeling a bit chilly, same with the tips of your fingers - oh, and the air is cool, too. Sudden unreported weather changes, yay!.. You frown and rub your palms together, thinking - just how long until you get there, 15 minutes? 20? Your mind swirls, counting down the seconds out of pure impatience.

“Damn it’s cold” Kugisaki complains, rubbing her shoulders as her teeth begin to chatter. Megumi agrees, trying to warm his palms as well - he’s got just a button up on and a light jacket, though you guess it doesn't do much for warming him up. You hum and look down at your attire - your jacket is warm enough, you reckon, and it's usually a guy thing to offer, or just a polite thing..Either way!! After some hesitation and awkward shifting, you take it off and walk toward Kugisaki, tapping on her shoulder as you offer it to her with a slight smile. You get a bit embarrassed as you realize, you tapped on the side of her eyepatch. She shifts awkwardly, then turns her body to you, noticing the jacket in your hand.

“Here. It's a warm one.”

Surprised at first, Kugisaki stares at you, then accepts after some non-verbal persuasion. “Thanks.” She says after a beat. You hum back wordlessly, crossing your arms - now you feel even more chilly, but it’s fine. Fushiguro is in the same student house as you - the dormitories are, however, divided by gender. So of course, the two of you walk Kugisaki to her dorms first - She hands you your jacket back and smiles in a laid-back manner.

“See ya guys.”

“See you.”

As you walk by the now closed lecture halls and cafeterias with Fushiguro, you reach the entrance to your dormitory, first floor. Fushiguro waves you goodbye. “Mines on this floor.” You nod, then still for a second. You rub your neck awkwardly and call out to him before he turns to his room. “Fushiguro?”

He hums at you, hand on the handle of his dorm as you meet eyes. You focus at the scar on his cheek for a split second, then back to his eyes. “Thanks.” You smile slightly. You noticed the gaze he gave to your classmates back at the club, silently telling them to not bring the whole Sukuna thing up, and sure, there was some teasing from Maki, but it didn’t go into an interrogation-style disaster. He nods again and disappears into his dorm, expressionless. I guess he's just like that, or somethin. You walk up the stairs, pass by a few rows of numbers until you meet your dorm door. One, one two..Aha! 

Before you even get to unlock the door, you hear some loud, bass-y music coming from the next door dorm and knot your eyebrows, confused. You double, triple check the time on your phone - it's past midnight now, is it not? - You hum to yourself, shrug and get to your dorm. You have late lectures tomorrow, so the background noise will not worry you much.. You do feel a bit embarrassed at the selfishness, there are probably other students cursing this guy for the loud music, but, ahh…They can talk to him themselves!

You walk by the kitchen counter and stretch over it to reach the fridge, fetching yourself a cold water bottle and taking a sip. Icy water fills your empty stomach and burns at your insides, suddenly making you aware of the numb pain that’s been following you for around two hours - and, a loud rumble. You realize, you haven't gotten a full meal since lunchtime, minus the sweet Edamame. And that was what lunch at, one pm? Ugh, the Edamame... Your mouth waters again and you groan. Your stomach rumbles even more in retaliation, scolding you - you’re hungry as shit. Sighing, you approach the counter as you change into comfier clothes - your shoulder bag nests itself on the chair handle, shirt and jacket leaning over the top, waiting to be folded, binder slid into a hard-to-find pocket of your bag - old habits die hard.

Once in your jammies, you throw packaged instant noodles into a bowl, pour the water in, and set the bowl to sit in the microwave for a few minutes - thank god they don’t have you asking for permission to use them - and open up the laptop that’s been abandoned on the desk, pressing on the power button a few times impatiently. You really feel like binge-watching a show or two. Clothes folded and put away, shoulder bag emptied, you sit hunched over at the desk, scrolling the web as you pick at your lips with your teeth. You had a few shows saved on your watch list, maybe one of them will do the trick. As you scroll on, you hear a notification sound, or a buzz. You eye the edge of the screen- nothing. Move your eyes toward your phone - ah, there it is. He replied. 

He replied.

You swipe up to open the conversation and squint as you read the message.

“Sorry, I was with my friends. Hope your day went well.  ( ◠‿◠ ) ”

A smiling emoticon, how cute. Fidgeting with the edge of the table, you pick a show, then type away a fast response. Maybe this isn’t the time to multitask, but if you focus on him too much, you might text him something silly. Your face feels like putty again just from the thought - at least you have the self awareness to not start ranting on him.

“It did, I met some new friends, got home just a bit ago. :-)”

Is that emoticon corny?

The microwave beeps. You stand up, turning it off and popping up the door to take out the bowl. You lick your lips, drop the flavor packet in and get to mixing with your chopsticks. You finally take your first taste and almost sob from happiness. A meal!!! Oh, and it’s too hot, burns! - Cringing, you place it on the table and rest back onto your seat, waiting for the meal to cool off as you press space on the laptop, giving the website the cue to play the episode. Though, you don’t give much attention to the pilot - despite your wishes to refrain - your eyes are still glued to the phone.

“Why are you awake so late? Go to sleep.”

“But I wanna talk to you :(“  - You pout as you type out this message. Corny.

“We can talk in the morning, silly.”

You try to argue but, per usual, he’s gone offline as quickly as he did get online. Right, it's 12:30, you can't expect him to stay up for you just to chat. Ah, but that would be nice… You pout some more and fidget on your chair, rocking, moping. Before you get stuck in daydream land, you reason - it’s probably a busy day for him tomorrow - he said he had a meeting of sorts to attend this week... Soooo, no staying up and talking like that one night. You bite at your lip, peeking at the bowl expectantly, then shift on your seat. Maybe, the lack of company will give you time to spend with yourself and just chill out, me-time, self care, or whatever they call it. Oh, and enjoy that shitty tv show.

At last, you pick at the noodles and take another taste-test. Cooler. Yummy, too! You enjoy your spicy noodles while half-following the plot of the tv show, your stomach slowly letting up with the rumbles and pain. You stare at the characters arguing within each other, giggling along to some dialogue “That’s silly..” You mutter to yourself. After a few episodes, you find yourself a bit bored, or more like, a mix of tired yet restless. Calming stroll and straight to bed, right. You laugh a bit at past you, yet know that the future you will curse you for staying up so late. Staring to the clock, you rock yourself on your chair, then impulsively decide on doing the best next thing to doomscrolling to cure your boredom - Homework. You clap your hands, then slide a notebook out of your bag, fiddling around with it. If sleep doesn’t find you, some early homework sessions will. You open a google docs tab and start typing away, researching for an essay, a few more tabs open, and some more...And some more, until you have enough in your brain - or pinned to the top of your document to refer to as you begin writing an essay on Platos Forms. Your eyelids lower, eyes squinting here and there sometimes. When you begin to feel a burn, you decide to turn an eye comfort filter.

By the time you’re done with the stage 2 editing, you check the clock once more. Must have been twenty minutes or so, you think... 

Almost 3 AM. 

You blink slowly, gaze deadpan. Not again? Groaning, you, save the file and shut off your laptop. Tidy up the table, get the bowl rinsed, and get yourself to bed. A sore ache finds itself at the base of your back as you stand up, stretch or lean over anything- you sat like a shrimp again, for sure. You whine and drop yourself onto the cold bed, relaxing underneath tons of blankets, curling up into a big comfy ball. "Stop hurtin'" you argue with your back, but it's upset at you for a reason, so it speaks not.

Eyes closed and hugging a plushie, having put on some nice background ambiance to fall asleep to, you think to yourself - that's a nice way to end your good-to-bad-to-awful-to-meh-but-alright-and-great kind of day - with a smile on your face. But all of the sudden, that loud neighbour next-door becomes your problem again. A big one, in fact. You've got no tv shows or sounds of the keyboard being tapped at, pen making muffled noise against paper - no, sir, just you and your ambiance - and now, all that noise next-door becomes completely impossible to ignore. Each time you find your eyes closed, ready to drift off to sleep, whateverthefuck that guy is playing in his room gets louder and louder, buzzing and vibrating right against the wall - right where your bed is!!! Aghh!!! You groan, kick at the wall and roll over, covering your ears.

At last, the music stops. Though, whether you're awake by the time that happens to even notice is up to discussion. There goes that "good ending" to your day -

You fell asleep with a pout.

[swissboyhisch]

The Aussie Chrissie Experience

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Aussie!Reader

Summary: Since Nico is injured just before Christmas, you head back to Australia for Nico to experience an Aussie Chrissie

Word Count: 2142

Warnings: Alcohol and kids

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

For you and Nico, Christmas was usually spent housing the stray teammates who couldn’t go home for the holidays. Mainly the other Swiss players who would love it when you cook some of Mama Hischier’s recipes. Nico’s favourites. But this year, Christmas was going to look a little different. Well for you and Nico that is.

This year, Nico was injured and wasn’t predicted to be back in the lineup until mid-January. Despite Nico being captain and wanting to be around the team, even when injured, he had asked his coach if he could take time off to travel for Christmas. Meaning you both could finally spend a Christmas with your family in Australia.

Much like Easter, Christmas was a big family event. Your family were the hosts of the family Christmas thanks to the inground pool in your backyard. The heat was predicted to reach 50 degrees celsius this year. One the highest you had experienced in your life.

On the 22nd of December, Nico and yourself landed in your town. Greeted by a small welcoming party in the airport terminal. After grabbing the three suitcases, your family made their way back to your parents. The first thing you did was put out the labelled presents under the tree the family had set up earlier in the month. Keeping the ones from Santa in the suitcase for Christmas Eve night.

Both you and Nico changed into some bathers before joining your parents under the gazebo near the pool. Your mum had made a cheese board with some crackers and dip for you all to snack on. 

“Welcome to Australian summer Nico,” You dad chuckled, passing him a stubbie.

Dropping your coverup, you slid into the pool. Soaking in the cold water. After being in New Jersey for a couple years, you’d acclimatised. Now the heat felt crazy extreme. Luckily your parents had the pool. Ice cold water. Soothing on the skin. Best remedy and where you’d find yourself for the week while you’re both visiting.

“Neeks, come in,” You suggest as your mum passes you a Cruiser. “It feels so good.”

You watched carefully as Nico lifted up his t-shirt. Abs on full display.  A pair of red shorts are the only clothes he’s wearing. He had a snapback on with sunnies. Everything made him look ten times better than he usually did. Just so handsome. The things that you could do to him. Your mind is wondering. 

“You’re drooling,” Your mum calls. She pretends to wipe off some drool from her lip mockingly.

“Leave me alone.”

“Never,” She laughs. 

You and Nico make yourselves comfortable. Since it was a Friday, your siblings were coming over for dinner. Homemade pizza was the plan since they had a woodfire pizza oven. 

“Auntyyyy,” Your niece screamed as she came running out the back door. 

Within an hour, your family had all come over. Excited to see you and Nico. To catch up and see what’s been happening since you last saw everyone at the start of the offseason. Everyone was lounging around the pool. Drinking. Having fun. The kids were playing with the water guns and other pool toys your parents had spoiled them with.

“Uncle Nico, look!” Wyatt shouted before doing a cannonball right next to where you and Nico stood in the shallow by the edge. He popped his head above water and floated over to you both. “Did you see Uncle Nico?”

“Sure did buddy,” Nico grinned, lifting the boy onto his shoulders.

Layla swam over to you, “Aunty (Y/N), chicken!”

You agree with your niece and lift her onto your shoulders. Nico and you shifted to the deeper end of the pool before allowing the kids on your shoulders to start shoving each other. It may not have been fair with the age difference between the two but where’s the fun in fairness.

Each kid did the rotations on your shoulders. Wanting to play chicken with their favourite aunt and uncle. You both were tired by the time they had given up on chicken. Nico got out and grabbed a drink for the pair of you. Joining you in the cold water once more.

The rest of the day was spent lazing by the pool. Cooling down. Eating. Drinking. The classic Australian summer. Even when the evening came around and you all made your pizzas. It was an early night after dinner because both you and Nico were crashing quickly after your travelling. 

Christmas Eve. The night where all your siblings, their partners and the kids stay over at the house. Every year your family does the same thing. First is an early dinner, usually something quick. This year it was just a sausage sizzle. Simple and easy. Then you all dress up to give out candy as people drive past and come visit the christmas lights.

Your dad loved Christmas. And as a result, the house and front yard was lit up with Christmas lights. Since you were a teenager you and your family put up lights. But since they’ve become an empty nest, your dad plans for this event all year round. Probably why it’s won the local competition. It wasn’t just a drive show display though. It was a themed walk through garden. 

The property you grew up on was a large block on the outskirts of the town. The large front yard had a nice garden thanks to your mum and every Christmas it got decorated. Each year it was themed. And on Christmas Eve night everyone from your family dressed up to match the theme. Giving out all sorts of lollies and little treats. 

This year’s theme was The Nightmare Before Christmas. Your favourite Christmas movie. One you watched every Christmas Eve night. You and Nico were to dress up as Jack and Sally since you had the costumes from last year’s Halloween. Your parents were Dr Finkelstein and Jewel Finkelstein. 

After dinner you all start to get ready. The sun was setting meaning it was nearly show time. You were lucky that Kendall liked to paint so she helped you and Nico with your makeup. Once your dad was ready, the family gathered on the road to watch the lights turn on. 

“Are you ready?” You asked Nico excitedly.

This was the best theme to have been chosen in your opinion. You were bouncing with energy as the lights flickered on and everyone clapped and cheered. Your neighbours had all gathered around to watch it as well. 

“That’s amazing Paul,” Nico compliments, looking around in complete awe. 

It was a matter of minutes before the first cars started to park up and excited kids climbed out. Each of you got into character. You were holding a bowl full of lollies for the kids as they explored the garden. One thing you loved was the little detailed and hidden gems your father sneaks into the designs. 

Your mother wandered over to where you were standing watching Nico engage with the kids. One thing he loved was that he wasn’t known for hockey here. As much as he loved hockey… He loved being just a regular, non-famous, person. 

“He’s so good with kids,” Your mum coos. 

You blush. Of course he was. You’ve known that since the first family skate you got to attend alongside him. “He really is.”

The family continued this till 10pm when all the kids finally went to bed. That was when all of the adults pulled out their Santa gifts to put under the tree. Knowing the kids will be up early, everyone went to bed not long after. Nico and yourself hid out in your room, chucking A Nightmare Before Christmas on to watch. You had introduced Nico to your own little tradition. Way back when you first started to date. After the movie, and some midnight snacks, you both went to sleep, out like a light.

The sun was rising by the time you had heard your mother tinkering around the kitchen. Like Easter, breakfast was a big thing. Many of the same things were on the menu. Pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon. You rolled over once more, tucking yourself under Nico’s arm. Thank God your room was cool at the moment in time. 

“Morning beautiful,” Nico whispers.

You feel a kiss on your forehead. “Merry Christmas Neeks.”

“Merry Christmas baby.”

The two of you bask in the glow of the early morning with each other. Nico’s fingers tracing up and down your body. You traced shapes on his bare back and shoulders. Pressing the occasional kiss to his bareskin that you could reach. 

“Let’s get up, yeah? Before the kids?” Nico suggests.

You hum in agreement. Both of you got dressed in your bathers. It was a tradition you and your siblings had when you were kids and your parents had restarted it now some of the grandkids are older. The first present they get is a water pistol each for a water fight. Unknown to your siblings, you had also brought the bunch-o-balloons to fill for the kids.

“Merry Christmas,” Nico greets as you join your mum, Kendall, Kacey and Molly in the kitchen. 

“Morning you two. Happy Chrissie.”

You check the Christmas tree and all the stockings. So many presents had found their way mysteriously under the tree. Nico hands you a mimosa which was perfect for the early morning start. Much like your sisters were drinking. You helped your mum with breakfast while the other adults started to come in and grab drinks. Once you heard a giggle from the hall, everyone shared a look. 

“Kids,” Sarah whispers in horror jokingly. 

Within seconds of that word being uttered, a gaggle of kids came racing down the hall and into the lounge where the Christmas tree and all the presents were. 

“Ah, kiddos, you know the drill,” You dad calls, holding up the sack of water pistols. 

All the kids raced outside into the heat, not bothering to change out of they’re pyjamas. You, Nico and some of your other siblings followed suit. You always participated in the fun. Nico on the other hand had never witnessed the sheer carnage that was the Christmas Day Water Fight. As your dad laid the water guns in the middle of the yard, you filled the water balloons and placed a couple buckets filled in the middle of the yard as well. All the ammo was there.

“Are we ready?” Your dad asked. All the kids screamed excitedly. 

Dylan, Molly, Nick, You and Nico stood amongst the kids. “Go!”

Everything was pure chaos. Water balloons being thrown. People were sprayed. Within minutes everyone was drenched. The kids loved to gang up on the older participants but it was also the other way around. You guys always targeted certain kids if they had been annoying. 

“Noooo Uncle Dylan,” Lyla screamed as she ran away from your younger brother.

He cackled as he chased after her with a huge water gun. “You better run.”

It went on for about half an hour until the kids had had enough and went to change. You pulled on your coverup and Nico patted himself dry and threw on his shirt once more. Everyone made their way inside and had breakfast. It was great.

“Who’s gonna help Santa this year and hand out the presents?”

You mum looked over to Nico, “Nico, do you want to take on the role? It’s rare we have you home for Christmas.”

Nico agreed and started, one by one, handing out the presents to who’s written on the tag. He worked the pile down to one last one. He grabbed it and sat back down beside you. Everyone started opening their presents. You enjoyed watching everyone’s reactions to opening their gifts. The happy squeals from the kids. 

It came down to the last few presents. You had finished opening yours and just enjoyed being cuddled up to Nico. Nico had finished but had one little box in his hand. 

“Uh, I’d like to say something.” Nico stood from the couch and pulled you up from the couch. He held your hand as he sank down to one knee. Opening the ring box in his hands. “(Y/N)... you have been my best friend since you came into my life. Both of us being new to Newark, coming from another country. The city wouldn’t have become home without you. I’m so proud of how far we’ve come as a couple… as adults.” That pulled a laugh from your older family members. “I love you to the moon and back. I’d be honoured if you’d become my wife.”

“Of course!” Nico slid the ring onto the correct finger before standing and giving you a kiss. “Mrs. Hischier has a nice ring to it doesn’t it?”

Nico grins, “I can’t wait!”

TAG LIST

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings @jayrami3

[elmaestrostan]

The US tour heading to New York reminded me about this 2022 NYT article & photo shoot. Of course he was in his Villarreal shirt with a ball 🥲

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/08/09/sports/soccer/unai-emery-arsenal-villarreal.html

Unai Emery Is Back for More

Fired after falling short at P.S.G. and in the Premier League, Emery has rebuilt his coaching reputation at Villarreal. It may not be long before his phone is ringing again.

Aug. 9, 2022

NEW YORK — It has been more than three years now, but Unai Emery still remembers the moment as if he had just witnessed it. When he brings it up, all the frustration he felt on that day in March 2019 comes rushing back.

Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang has just claimed the ball, the clock has ticked beyond the 90th minute and the referee has brought calm to the chaos. Arsenal has won a penalty, a last-gasp opportunity to win the match. It is also a chance for Emery, in his first season as Arsenal’s coach, to drag his team into the Champions League at the expense of the club’s bitter North London neighbor, Tottenham Hotspur.

But Aubameyang, usually a lock from the penalty spot, fails to score. That shot, that missed opportunity, was the moment, as far as Emery is concerned, that ended not only Arsenal’s hopes of playing alongside European soccer royalty, but also his hold on his job as Arsenal’s manager.

“We played a good season, and we were very close, but this moment…,” Emery says, allowing the sentence to trail off. He has made his point.

For Emery, now two seasons into what has been by most metrics a hugely successful effort to rebuild his career at the Spanish club Villarreal, it is not only soccer games that are defined by moments: a missed penalty or a late save, a blown lead or a match-winning goal. Entire careers, he knows as well as anyone, can also be upended — or sent off on new, unexpected trajectories — by a single moment here or there.

Emery, 50, did not fall all the way down the ladder after his firing at Arsenal. He was out of work only months before he landed the next summer at Villarreal, where he has directed a golden run that he believes has once again established his credentials for one of the sport’s top jobs. At least one Premier League club has come calling. (He said no.) More big clubs will follow. Emery sounds like a man who is ready to listen.

“I think I recovered my level to keep in future my challenge high, high, high,” he said, raising his hands above his head. “I am very ambitious.”

He has already been to soccer’s heights, after all: victories in three European finals with Sevilla, two seasons coaching Paris St.-Germain in the Champions League, then that call to go to London to manage in the Premier League.

In 2018, Emery was tasked with leading Arsenal into the future, with managing its transition from 24 years under Arsène Wenger. The Emery era started well enough, with 11 consecutive victories, the club’s best run of form in more than a decade. But then came the botched penalty, the failure to leapfrog Tottenham in the standings, the bitter loss to Chelsea in the Europa League final. Emery survived the summer, but in November, after an extended winless run, Arsenal showed him the door.

His morale-sapping departure has been traded for a two-year adventure in eastern Spain, a thrill ride that has delivered Villarreal’s first major trophy, moments of glory against some of soccer’s mightiest teams and proof, at least to Emery, that he can still be considered one of the game’s finest coaches.

His most eye-catching successes came last season, when he took his team — a mix of rugged veterans, big-club castoffs and promising youngsters — on an improbable jaunt through the Champions League. Villarreal eliminated Juventus and Bayern Munich before threatening a comeback of cinematic proportions against Liverpool in the semifinals.

That journey, Emery said, was built on players who rose to the occasion when their moment came. Much of Villarreal’s success was forged on the training field, he said, by practicing set pieces and counterattacks, by drilling into players the idea that they had to dig in and stick to a plan.

“That is the difference you can reduce with other teams,” Emery said. In his view, coaches can improve their players and their teams by 10 or 15 percent. The rest is up to them, to a blend of preparation, belief and poise in critical moments.

“How can I explain it?” he said. “Last year, we were worse when we played against Arsenal in the semifinals of the Europa League. We were worse than them. They were better than us. But our work before arriving to play against them — we created a very good mentality, and that is when one coach could make his team better than one that has better players.”

It was a formula he brought to bear again in the Champions League last spring. Before each two-legged tie in the knockout rounds, Emery said, he told his players that they should expect to suffer and be outplayed for large spells, but that they should believe their chance would come to unsettle the opponent, either defensively or offensively. “When they start to suffer,” Emery said, “is when you can win.”

The moments were unforgettable. A 3-0 victory at Juventus. A stunning first-leg victory over Bayern Munich in Spain, and then an 88th-minute goal to eliminate the Germans on their home field. Against Liverpool, Villarreal overturned a 2-0 first-leg deficit within 41 minutes to leave its opponent shaken and its stadium rocking.

Liverpool regained its footing and survived — other teams get to have their moments, too — but the Champions League run has raised the profile of Villarreal’s best players. Some will move on. Their coach admits he probably will as well one day.

He has already knocked back the advances of some suitors, including an approach from Newcastle United after the Premier League club was acquired by Saudi Arabia’s sovereign wealth fund. “It was not the right moment,” Emery said of his decision last November. Newcastle, for all its new riches, was last in the table at the time, and Villarreal was in the Champions League.

That competition, he and his players knew, could change perceptions in ways that success in the Spanish league could not.

At the beginning of his tenure, Emery said, he had planned to focus on the league. “But when we beat Atalanta and when we played against Juventus, the Champions League was, for me, more important,” Emery said. The club was getting recognition for its successes, and for players and coaches alike the performances could catapult their careers in new directions. “I know I have individual challenges as well,” Emery said.

Emery had arrived at Villarreal bruised by the nature of his Arsenal exit. Those wounds are not completely healed. He described the departure in Spanish as a golpe — a blow. By the time he was fired, Emery was facing criticism that at times felt more personal than professional: Long before the end, former players and parts of the news media had taken aim at his command of English.

Those criticisms still smart: When a fan at a preseason match in England recently goaded Emery by asking him to say, “Good ebening,” the coach responded with an obscene gesture that went viral.

At Villarreal, the team’s wealthy owners have provided Emery a platform to find balance in his life, as well as a space to rebuild a belief in his style of coaching. But Emery said he was certain that his success was not a case of a coach’s finding his level, of a leader most comfortable one rung below the elite. “I’m in a very good environment to feel strong, to feel confident again, adding confidence in my work,” he said. “And then, a new challenge.”

His determination to return to the top is perhaps best demonstrated by his extracurricular activities: While he has been re-establishing his credentials in Spain, he has also been working hard on his English. He described his summer trip to New York as a learning opportunity as much as a vacation with his son, Lander. It is perhaps a tacit admission that not all of the criticism during his time at Arsenal was wide of the mark.

He has been ruminating on those moments at Arsenal when he could not quite get his message across, or those crucial early conversations with key players when linguistic barriers made it hard to create the type of coach-player bond essential to winning teams.

“The next time I will arrive with better English,” he said.

That time may come soon. For now, though, Emery is prepared to bide his time, to wait for the right moment.

[i-cast-teatus-deletus]

Clothing - Pajamas (Part 1)

I did a phenomenal amount of legwork when it came to pajamas. There are tons and tons of websites out there that sell "plus size pajamas" and it turns out they go up to a 2X, also a 2X on their size chart is a US 16/18. Most of the search results for the first WEEK OR TWO didn't result in anything appropriate that was ALSO made of a tolerable fabric. I know exactly how long a recycled polyester pajama bottom is going to last, unfortunately. If this is a pair of pajamas that you likely won't use again after you've recovered, it's less of an issue, but I am trying to buy stuff that's a little more durable than that.

So you can imagine my shock and delight when I came across Land's End. I recognized the name, but I had never purchased anything from them, and this seemed as good a time as any to try.

Firstly, if you buy anything on the LE website and you're getting anything less than 50% off of the list price, you're getting scammed. They routinely have 60-75% off coupon codes, and usually there's a code already in effect on the website, a separate code for coupon sites (possibly multiples?), and a code for the mailing list at any given time. None of these three is always the best price, it will typically depend on what you're buying, and I highly recommend you try all of the codes at checkout to see if you can lower your total.

I ended up, if you can believe it, putting in THREE orders in a relatively short span of time (7 or 8 weeks, as I recall), mostly buying various clearance items to try them out. Not everything I bought was pajamas, obviously, but I'll highlight the pajamas that fit the theme here

I really loved the flannel pajamas, which are 100% cotton, sold separately as tops and bottoms, come up to a 3X and, inexplicably, fit me PERFECTLY. I'm used to clothes being wrong in at least one dimension, but their 3X is the correct length and everything. I love it so much I went and bought more pairs of flannel pajamas, and I got compliments on the pattern that I chose. It's a really warm and durable flannel, too, not like a lot of the cheap stuff most places use for pajamas.

They also have a flannel sleepshirt, which I also am quite fond of (especially as a light robe), that buttons up the front. I also bought, as mentioned before, a shirt/shorts set of their Tencel pajamas. They also have robes in a wide variety of fabrics, though I haven't bought any of those yet.

If you need to go larger, or find the patterns too feminine, they sell men's pajamas as well, up to a 4X, though I was less impressed with the men's pajamas pants that I bought. The flannel pants I bought in a 4X have been pilling already.

Unrelated to pajamas, though, I did buy some of their men's underwear (boxer briefs) and have been SUPER impressed with how comfortable and durable they are. If you're in the market for boxer briefs above a 2X (like I had been for years), they are definitely a place to look. I also bought a pack of cotton boxers from them, which were also really nice (though I wear them a little less often than the boxer briefs), but especially for surgery recovery (and especially wearing them as shorts) they are really great.

[percontaion-points]

Arena chapter 6

Click here for the rest of the series!

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 6

She gestured at Callie’s foot. “How’s it feel?” “I think it fits.” She snugged the laces.

Is this a thing that people actually say? Or is this the author sitting and struggling to come up with the correct word, failing, shrugging, and going “’snug’ it is!”? I swear that I googled this, but literally nothing was coming up. Editors? We don’t like their kind ‘round these parts.

“I needed the money,” Callie said, annoyed. “How was I supposed to know they were aliens?”

I’d like to remind everybody that she was promised $50 for this shit. She literally threw her life away for a measly $50.

Even here, in the worst of conditions, Rowena’s sensuality throbbed. Her blue jeans molded a slender waist and curved hips like a second skin, and her scoop-necked T-shirt clung so tightly it left little to the imagination.

Look, all I’m saying is that it’s a little weird for a so-called straight woman to be this hung up over another woman’s “sensuality” and curves.

“So happens, you’re in luck. We’ll be stopping at Manderia for supplies b’fore we hit the canyon. If you can wait a few weeks, you can check out your Gate there.” “Manderia? Is that a town?” “Yup. All the Gates have towns. I guess people get that far and don’t know what else to do.” “Did ya hear about those folks over in Devon who’re building a dirt ramp?” John said. “Figure to walk right on up to the top.” “Morons,” Garth scoffed. “They’ll die of old age ’fore they finish. But we all gotta do what we gotta do.”

At least they’re trying SOMETHING rather than sitting around and moping about it.

Though she fully intended to read through the manual’s unencrypted portion before week’s end, she never found the time.

How though? She lost hers to things that almost bit her thumb off. Unless one of the others happens to have their own lying around somewhere?

Garth dismissed it as sulking, but it was clearly more than that. As the weeks passed, Callie realized Pierce was a deeply troubled man, plagued by horrific nightmares during which he jerked and grimaced and screamed, or curled whimpering into fetal position. Often, his cries woke the others, who’d watch him intently for a while and then go back to sleep as if they were long used to it.

I’m sorry, but why the hell is Pierce the only one here with PTSD nightmares? I have several questions about why nobody else is waking up screaming.

Three weeks at their mercy. Three weeks to be their plaything. I’ve misjudged him. Badly.

Chapter 6 summary: They continue along until they eventually get to a camp with a bunch of other people. They all have names, but don’t worry about them; none of these people are important. Anyway, one of the ladies pulls Callie aside and gives her some proper hiking boots instead of the “bedroom slippers” the aliens had given her. The woman explains that the aliens will make trades. However, the “benefactors” mentioned in the manual are literally non-existent. As Callie tries the boots on, the woman explains what the land is like. That once they tried to hike up to the top of the mountains, but had every trouble imaginable. The air was thin, there was a storm the entire time, wild animals would not stop attacking them… And when they reached the summit, they found that the other side was nothing but a literal sheer drop into nothing. “Like when they thought the earth was flat, you know? It just falls into nothing.” They want to try to go into the inner part of the arena, but the last group that went in… There was only one survivor who returned. Callie then explains what happened to the others. They express concern over Pierce’s lack of action against the trogs, and contemplate kicking him out from the group. Changing the subject, they ask Callie how she got tricked into coming in here. One guy was mugged in LA, and left for dead. The aliens patched him up and sent him there. One lady was on a cruise ship that crashed; she would have gone down Titanic style if not for the aliens. Are we working on Magical Madoka logic here? Time passes, and Callie keeps trying to read the manual, but finds none of the info actually useful. The important stuff she learns, it’s from the people who have been there for a while. Pierce frequently has screaming nightmares. When Callie finally asks some of the others about it, they tell her that Pierce had been held prisoner by trogs for 3 weeks. It makes him on edge and unreliable in a fight, but he can also tell whenever trogs are near… Which is pretty much the only reason why they keep him around anymore.

[rpmonger]

Name: Arthur & Felicity "Lissa" Boothe Ian McKellen & Julie AndrewsAge: 85(A) & 87(F) Sexuality: Straight Career: Physics professor & Opera Singer Notable Markings: •Arthur has a series of freckles on his left arm that form the big dipper •Felicity has a burn scar on her chest from where Norman and Warren dumped a hot tea on her on accident (they were trying to be sweet but started arguing over who got to give her the cup) Favorite Color: •Arthur - Wine Red #5E2129 •Wendy - Antique Pink #D36E70 Guilty Pleasure: •Arthur - ??? •Wendy - gardening Fun facts: •Wendy & Arthur own several acres of land, which also includes a large pond. •Arthur could always tell the twins apart until he developed Alzheimer's. •The couple still go on dinner dates where they dress up very fancy (Norman usually ends up stuck coming with them to be there for Arthur. He sits at a different table and reads), and will also go on walks in the park to keep Arthur active. •Felicity made good friends with Vivienne after meeting her at a mommy and me class. The two always go out for tea every single Wednesday. Well...Tea for Felicity.

Name: Warren Arthur Boothe Norman Reedus Age: 49 Sexuality: Straight as a pin Career: Actor Notable markings: •mole near the left hand side of his mouth •tattoo of Norman's name on his chest that was gotten when they were teenagers while drunk on a dare Favorite color: Genetian blue #2A6478 Guilty pleasure: The Pearl Harbor Movie (he will lie if asked) Fun facts: •has been acting since the 90's •despite being from a very cold climate, Warren hates the snow •can dislocate his left shoulder at will without pain (this upsets his twin who insists he's going to injure himself doing this, and his little brother who swears it's not normal and bad for his joints)

Name: Norman Patrick Boothe Karl Urban Age: 49 Sexuality: Gay but has experimented with women a little. Career: trauma & ER nurse, Retired hockey player for the Jets Notable markings: •healed broken nose •scar on upper lip under beard •tattoo of a death's head moth on his left front hip, a lantern on his right bicep Favorite color: Teal #008080 Guilty pleasure: the 1995 Persuasion movie & 2005 Pride & Prejudice movie Fun facts: •had a hockey scholarship •played for the Jets for about 5 years before he retired (Still plays for fun with Norman and a couple guys) •owns more Hawaiian shirts than sweaters •Ette's dad. Gave up hockey to parent her, was manipulated by Helene to give her up because he was a "bad parent". Absolutely regrets giving her up. Name: Nova Age: 6 Breed: American Staffordshire Terrier Color: Blue Career: hunting dog and well loved snuggle baby Notable markings: white spot on her chest Guilty pleasure: sleeping on the bed with Arthur when he takes his naps

Name: Calvin Warrington Boothe Jude Law Age: 47 Sexuality: pansexual, but doesn't know it Career: Head of Anesthesia Notable markings: a birthmark on the back of his neck, along his hairline, vaguely shaped like a fish Favorite color: Sienna #A0522D Guilty pleasure: 50 First Dates Fun facts: •adores his kids •would rather be holed up alone in a cave in the middle of winter than in absolutely any building with Helene •absolutely knows his hairline is receding but finds joy in pretending to be shocked when people mention it

Name: Daniel "Dani" Arthur Boothe (prev. Danielle Alessandra Boothe) Trystan Hawthorne Age: 27 Sexuality: Bisexual, questioning (thinks he might technically be straight because he's a dude and he likes women but is that still straight if he's not a bio male?) Career: Movie Rental Store owner (Cassettes) Notable markings: •top surgery scars •a scar behind his left ear from when he, his sister, and his cousin tried to pierce his ears •bite mark on his leg from a fox •a watercolor no outline tattoo of three fairies dancing by his ankle. Favorite color: Blue Lilac #77679A Guilty pleasure: monster smut books Fun facts: •better at roller skating than ice skating •can stack dice in a cup •once got bit by a fox when he mistook it for a cat Name: Nine Age: 3 Breed: Blue Sphynx Career: layabout and spoiled king of the movie rental store Notable markings: nude colored chest, throat, and like along his muzzle Guilty pleasure: begging customers for food, as if Dani has never fed him once in his life

Name: Nanette "Ette" Boothe Abigail Breslin Age: Sexuality: Straight Career: Student (?) Notable Markings: Favorite Color: Baby Pink Guilty Pleasure: Bondage? Fun facts: •Biological child of Norman and an unknown woman •Is absolutely gorgeous but doesn't really know it •Can pull off literally any outfit •Abused by Helen in a way where it's almost not noticeable to anyone •May or may not have been drugged by Helen for years

Name: Helene Marie Boothe Charlize Theron Age: 48 Sexuality: Straight Career: Stay at home mother (also is in an MLM) Notable Markings: A scar on her left middle finger from where Ette bit her when she was little. Favorite Color: Telemagenta #CF3476 Guilty Pleasure: Swiss cake rolls Fun facts: •There's nothing fun about Helene. •Goes by Helen instead of Helene •Absolutely married Calvin for money •Convinced Norman to let her adopt Ette (oh, honey. You're way too busy. She'll get neglected and you really don't know what you're doing with a kid...), only to abuse her because she's not good enough according to her standards. •Likely has been drugging Ette for many years (no evidence yet) •So good at manipulation, tbh

Name: Xavier & Jane Chandler Anthony Hopkins & Jessica Lange Age: 87(X) & 80(J) Sexuality: Straight Career: Psychiatrist & Stay at home wife Notable Markings: x Favorite Color: Green Gray #4D5645 & Mint Turquoise #497E76 Guilty Pleasure: Xavier has no guilty pleasures. Jane likes The Fifty Shades series. Fun facts: •Xavier is a bit bigoted. His wife, however, is not and has tried to be supportive of her grandkids. •Jane has secretly been seeing a divorce attorney. •Felicity, Jane, & Vivienne have a book club together.

Name: Skye Barlow Sabrina Carpenter Age: Sexuality: Pansexual Career: Streamer Notable Markings: Favorite Color: Sage Green #B2AC88 Guilty Pleasure: Fun facts: •Does not have an OnlyFans, despite her fans clamoring for one

Name: Owen Barlow Jacob Tremblay Age: Sexuality: Career: Notable Markings: Favorite Color: Guilty Pleasure: Fun facts: •Visits Skye sometimes over the summer and stays with her. They both enjoy their time together.

Name: Mary Anne & Luke Barlow Katherine Heigl & Jason Bateman Age: Sexuality: Straight Career: Notable Markings: Favorite Color: Guilty Pleasure: Fun facts: •

Name: Loren Carreno Mike Vogel Age: 44 (according to his tumblr. correct me if I'm wrong) Sexuality: Gay Career: Detective Notable Markings: Favorite Color: Guilty Pleasure: Fun facts: •Was married to a woman named Caroline for 5 years •Inspired by his father to go into law enforcement •Youngest ever to have been promoted to lead detective

Name: Shay Carreno Emily Kinney Age: Sexuality: Straight Career: Actor Notable Markings: Favorite Color: Guilty Pleasure: Fun facts: •Got her first big break in The Walking Dead (also where she met Warren) •A very accomplished and well liked singer

Name: Shavon, Sheyenne, Shelbi Carreno Natalie Dormer, Evanna Lynch, Peyton List Age: Sexuality: I'm guessing they're all straight

Name: Hillary Carreno & Alfred Carreno Kristin Bauer & Kevin CostnerAge: Sexuality: Straight Career: Alfred - Lawyer, Hillary - Erotica writer Notable Markings: Favorite Color: Guilty Pleasure: Fun facts: •the pair met at a consultation after Hillary started writing & publishing her books/stories •Alfred is closest with Shelbi out of all his daughters

Name: Asher Ioane Jason Momoa Age: 32 Sexuality: Straight Career: Dom for Hire, Erotic/Boudoir photographer Notable Markings: •Combination of Maori & Samoan cultural tattoos •Scar through his left eyebrow from a surf accident Favorite Color: Purple Red  #75151E Guilty Pleasure: buying sex toys or furniture, The Rebel Blue Ranch series Fun facts: •Was briefly a sub for an older woman. Did not work out. (mild trauma?) •Does not kiss subs because he views kissing as a very intimate thing. (might involve the trauma) •Makes erotic furniture as a hobby.

Name: Kele & Enola Ioane Robbie Magasiva & Kimberly Gurrero Age: 52 & 58 Sexuality: Straight Career: Owns a surf shop (K) & was a Hula instructor (E) Notable Markings: •Upper bicep tattoo of a combination of Samoan and Maori cultures (kele) Favorite Color: Orange Brown #A65E2E , N/A Guilty Pleasure: Dog the Bounty Hunter Fun facts: •Enola died when Asher was in his 20's after falling while surfing, taking a hard hit to the head from her surfboard •Kele doesn't eat pork.

Name: Vivianne Morgan Jane Fonda Age: 86 Sexuality: Straight Career: Chef Notable Markings: a tattoo of a sword on her wrist that matches Selene's tattoo of a sword (she's not jsut a grandma. She's a cool grandma) Favorite Color: Gold #FFD700 Guilty Pleasure: Donny Osmond music Fun facts: •A good friend of Felicity & Jane •Absolutely gave Jane the number for her divorce attorney and has been encouraging her to leave Xavier and take him for everything he has. •Has been married 3 other times. She's pretty sure her third husband is the one who got Darcy into the...community he's currently a part of. •Spoils the hell out of Selene, and has been known to send gifts for Dani and Ette when Selene visits them.

Name: Darcy Morgan Jeffrey Dean Morgan Age: 49 Sexuality: straight Career: "Carnival" owner. DEFFO not a money launderer or leader of the local mob. Def doesn't have drugs going in and out and didn't ever kill anyone. Never. Not once. Notable Markings: •scar at his right temple from Dierdre •tattoo of his daughter's name on his left arm •various other tattoos Favorite Color: Iron Grey #434B4D Guilty Pleasure: Those REALLY bad Scifi Movies (not Sharknado, but in the same vein) Fun facts: •Has a very rocky relationship with the local police department. They're mad they can't catch him for any of the crimes they're 90% sure he's associated with. •Absolutely killed Lucy's boyfriend after he saw him hit her outside a bar one night. Followed them home, learned his routine, and then killed him. If the cops ask, no he didn't. And he does not know where the body could possibly be. •VERY protective of Selene, despite letting her do whatever. •Always willing to help when the cops come knocking at the carnival. •very Shrewd businessman. Don't owe him money...

Name: Dierdre Morgan Age: n/a Sexuality: Straight Career: n/a Notable Markings: had a scar on her arm from where one of Darcy's rings cut her Favorite Color: Honey Yellow #A98307 Guilty Pleasure: The goldfish pingpong ball game Fun facts: •Was a good mom, but threatened to take Selene away from Darcy because she didn't want her exposed to "that life". •Went missing when Selene was 3 years old. Her body was found in the woods.

Name: Selene Morgan Age: 26 Sexuality: Bisexual Career: Part time Student, part time at Cassettes Notable Markings: multiple tattoos, including a sword that matches with her grandma. Favorite Color: Traffic Black #1E1E1E Guilty Pleasure: Chocolate Chip cookie cakes (can AND WILL eat a whole one by herself) Fun facts: •Dating Landry in secret, because she's almost 90% sure her dad would beat the hell out of him if he found out. •So spoiled, but like. Not in a shitty way. She can absolutely be a bitch, but knows when to dial it back. •Despite being told she's not supposed to be fucking around in the carnival, absolutely fucks around in the carnival with her friends (sometimes Ette if she can convince her). She knows what's going on there. She's not stupid... •Loves Dani, but favors Ette because she likes to hang out with her.

Name: Lucy Irving Age: 35 Sexuality: ? Career: Paramedic Notable Markings: Multiple small tattoos on her arms Favorite Color: Blue Lilac #6C4675 Guilty Pleasure: eating junk food while rewatching True Blood for the 500th time Fun facts: •Is Norman's best friend, and maybe the only person that's not family that he'll make the time to go out with (before Loren). They met while he was working in the ER as charge nurse. •Has been to the carnival more times for work than she ever has for fun. •DID have a boyfriend. He ghosted her after beating the shit out of her.

Name: Landry Moon Kevin Creekman Age: 30 Sexuality: Straight Career: Runs the shooting range at the carnival & Darcy's right hand man Notable Markings: bodysuit of tattoos Favorite Color: Mint Turquoise #497E7 Guilty Pleasure: Mario Party Fun facts: •Is way too similar to Darcy for his own good. •Discovered he was attracted to Selene when they got in an argument one day. He called her a bitch, she called him an asshole and slapped him. •Is a bit too possessive sometimes. •Comes off as abusive, but he'd never hurt Selene. Unless she told him to.

Name: Henry Ripley Jonathan Bailey Age: 32 Sexuality: Bisexual, preference for men Career: Dance Teacher & Aerialist (specializes in silks) Notable Markings: Favorite Color: Melon yellow #F4A900 Guilty Pleasure: Fun facts: •Met Alex on the bus when he fell and ripped the strap to Alex's messenger bag. •Met Dani randomly at a pride event when Dani was a teenager and took him in when Helen kicked him out for a year (he and Alex are now Dani's "other dads") •Has been doing acrobatics and aerialist stunts at the circus since childhood. •When he's at the studio, he can often be found with a trail of kids (from his classes) following him. •Loves that people can't tell if he or Lex are the top in the relationship.

Name: Alexander Kennedy Sam Claflin Age: 34 Sexuality: Bisexual Career: Horror writer Notable Markings: •Scar on the underside of his chin from where he stabbed himself with a fork as a child. •Scar on his left knee from where a friend dropped a type writer on him. Favorite Color: Moss Grey #6C7059 Guilty Pleasure: Verity by Colleen Hoover Fun facts: •Does, in fact, have a secret bookcase that moves to reveal...another bookcase. With all his valuable books on it. •Was kicked out of the house when he was 17, because "you're old enough to work, you can live alone." •Published his first horror novel at 18.

[casspurrjoybell-25]

Skating on Thin Ice - Chapter 50 - Part 3

*Warning - Adult Content*

Elijah Ellis

I was able to calm down on the short ride home and talking to Ian helped dissipate the heavy feeling in my head.

When we entered the house and went up to my room, I didn't expect to find Fox sitting on my bed.

My eyes widened when they landed on him and I couldn't help but let them linger on his injuries.

"I thought I broke up with you," I said, causing Fox to stand from the bed and roll his eyes at me.

"Shut up," he replied before looking over to Ian.

"Is everything okay?" Fox asked him.

"You guys broke up?" Ian asked, ignoring Fox's question.

"No," Fox said, at the same time I said, "Yes."

Fox glared at me, shaking his head.

"See, this is why I came over here," he started with a stern tone.

"You left my house all sad looking and I knew you'd go back to thinking like this if I let you leave."

Ian looked increasingly uncomfortable as Fox and I shared glares.

"I'm going to let you two fight this out on your own," Ian said, backing away toward the door.

"I'll just go and bother Joshua."

Ian shut the door behind him, leaving Fox and I standing across from each other in my room.

Fox's eyes narrowed at me as I sat down on the bed.

"How did you even get here?" I asked, briefly looking down at my hands in my lap and then back up at him.

"Wren dropped me off," he answered.

"He said he had somewhere to go anyway."

"Okay, so why are you here?"

"I already told you why," he said, rolling his eyes again.

"You tend to overthink."

I felt bad about being cold toward him but now that I was looking at his injuries again, all the thoughts of why this happened came flooding back.

I knew he deserved better than this, yet he still wanted to be with me.

He was checking on me while he was the injured one and that made me feel useless.

"Dad and Mandy want me to go file a restraining order on Dave tomorrow," I told him.

"Maybe you should too and on the guys who hurt you."

I had talked to Dad and Mandy briefly when I had gotten home from Fox's.

They noticed something was wrong but didn't push me to talk about it.

The three of us planned to go in the morning to take care of the restraining order.

Fox walked over to the bed, sitting down beside me and tossing his arm around my shoulder to pull me against him.

"I think that's a good idea," Fox mumbled against my skin as he placed a kiss on my cheek.

"Foxy..." I whined, resting my head on his shoulder as he held me tighter.

"I'm so tired of this."

"I know," he agreed, wrapping his other arm around me so that he hugged me to his side, placing kisses on my forehead.

He winced as I made contact with his stomach and that caused me to jump away from him.

I looked at Fox with sad eyes, my mouth pulling into a frown.

"Don't even start," he warned, a stern expression taking over his face.

"Yes, I'm in pain. No, it's not the end of the world."

It was progress that he was even admitting to being in pain.

"Can we just go to sleep? I'm so tired," Fox said, taking his glasses off and rubbing his bruised eye.

It was then that I noticed how tired he actually looked.

He acted like nothing took a toll on him but it did.

He was exhausted.

I leaned in and connected our lips briefly in a kiss before standing up from the bed and changing into more comfortable clothes, leaving my shirt off.

Fox followed my lead, pulling his shirt off over his head and placing it on the nightstand next to his glasses, after folding it.

It took all my willpower to keep my eyes away from the bruises that littered his abdomen.

"Can I borrow some pants?" he asked, looking up at me with a grin.

A small smile sprouted on my face as I pulled a pair of pants out of my dresser and handed them to him.

Fox pulled his jeans off and stood up to put on the pants I brought him.

"They're a little tight," he said as I laughed at the way the pants hugged his body.

"At least your ass looks good," I said with a chuckle, wrapping my arms around his torso and pulling him down on the bed and with me.

"Like always," he added, raising his eyebrows. I hummed in agreement, pecking his lips.

Fox brought his hand to the back of my head and pulled me back to him to connect our lips again.

He kissed me slowly and patiently, savoring the feeling.

When we were like this, it was like there was nothing else around us. We slowly pulled away, staring into each other's eyes and sharing a sort of unspoken dialogue.

Just by the look he gave me, I could feel his love.

I hugged Fox closer to me, allowing him to lay his head on my chest as the two of us fell asleep.

********

I woke up to Fox detangling himself from my arms. I propped myself up on my elbow, watching him as he threw his shirt on and fixed his glasses on his face.

"Are you're leaving?" I asked with a yawn.

Fox turned, his eyes looking up and down my body, the comforter resting just below my hips.

"It makes it hard to when you're looking at me like that," he said, his lips quirking upward slightly.

"Then come back to bed."

"I can't, sweetheart. Wren's picking me up to go get the battery for my car," Fox replied, kneeling on the bed to give me a kiss.

I gave him a look of disgust at the nickname but didn't comment on it.

As he tried to back away, I pulled him by the front of his shirt and planted my lips on his again.

Fox's lips melted into mine as I kept my grip on his shirt, him cupping my face in his hand.

I started to deepen the kiss, biting down on his lip and letting my tongue enter his mouth.

A surprised noise left his throat as he pulled away.

"You're trying to make it impossible for me to leave," he accused with raised eyebrows.

"Maybe," I said with a grin.

"Well we have to stop that before your dad comes up here and catches us. Again."

Just as he said the words, Dad called up the stairs to let me know that breakfast was ready.

Fox gave me as if he was bragging that he had been right.

I rolled my eyes at him, getting out of bed and heading downstairs with Fox following behind me.

"Good morning," Dad stopped short, choking slightly as his eyes focused on Fox and me.

"Oh, hi Fox. I didn't know you stayed over."

"Dan," Mandy said in a warning tone, swatting Dad's shoulder.

Fox looked embarrassed, his cheeks reddening as Joshua and Ian began laughing from where they sat at the kitchen table.

"You don't usually sleep without a shirt on Elijah," Dad added.

"Why are you..."

"Dad," I exclaimed, my voice going higher than I anticipated.

"On that note, my brother's here to pick me up," Fox said, awkwardly looking down at his phone.

"I'll walk you out," I muttered, turning and leading Fox out of the house. 

The two of us scurried as quickly as we could out the front door and down the driveway to where Wren's car was parked in the street.

When we reached the car, Wren stuck his hand out the window to wave.

Open skin on his knuckles caught my eye and I quickly looked to Fox to see his eyes fixed on them as well.

"Wren, what the fuck?" Fox asked, gesturing toward his brother's hand.

Wren rolled his eyes, resting his arm out the window.

"It's nothing, get in," he said in a bored tone.

Fox's eyes turned dark, narrowing at his brother as he tightly pressed his lips together in a thin line.

"What did you do?" Fox slowly asked, his tone low and matching his expression.

Wren gave him a blank stare, keeping his mouth closed as he raised his eyebrows.

"Come on, Fox," he said.

"Get in the car. We have to go."

"I'm not getting in until you tell me what you did," Fox retorted, placing his hands on his hips.

"You won't get in if I tell you," Wren said with a sigh.

Fox didn't answer.

Instead, the brothers stared each other down, each willing the other to give in.

It was then that I noticed how similar the two of them looked.

Their matching expectant expressions highlighted their likeness and their matching stubbornness reminded me of why the two of them were always butting heads.

Wren let out a longer sigh, looking up briefly as he shook his head.

"Fine," he caved, dragging his eyes back down to Fox.

"I may have paid a visit to one of the guys that attacked you."

My eyes widened at his confession but Fox didn't seem to be all that surprised.

"How did you even find him?"

"It wasn't hard to find the driveway with the car you described," Wren said with a scoff.

"I was just slashing his tires and then he came out throwing punches."

Other than his knuckles, Wren seemed to be unscathed.

He had either gotten away or the other guy didn't put up much of a fight.

Fox was silent, his jaw tightly set.

He turned toward me and took a deep breath before leaning in to give me a chaste kiss on the lips.

"I'll come back later, after we pick up the battery," he said in a low tone against my lips.

I hummed in agreement, nodding my head slightly.

"Okay."

Without another word, Fox climbed into the passenger's seat of Wren's car and the two were off.

[eakdoeseurope]

Marseille, day 2, part 3

Bike tour time! So when I was researching Marseille (I did do a little research), I discovered that one of the main attractions is the Calanques. What is a calanque? Well, I've now apparently seen three of them, and I still don't know. I think it's like a mountain?

Or maybe it's the part that isn't the mountain, like a doughnut hole? Whatever, they're a natural wonder, and I love me a natural wonder. There's a hike that's accessible by bus, but I came across an e-bike tour of the calanques and I thought, "hey, I can ride a bike! I can totally do that! Easy peasy!"

(Narrator: "It was not, in fact, easy peasy.")

See, I thought the hard part would be figured out the electric motor part. But it was a pedal assist thing so the bike took care of that for me. No, the real problem is that the closest I'd ever been to mountain biking was going down the 46th Avenue hill by Oakland Lake near my house as a child. And that is not the same thing.

I'm not a good biker, as I discovered after about five minutes on the bike. The tour guide went up a steep embankment and then stopped on the plateau to wait for all of us to regroup. Everyone in front of me followed suit. I attempted to as well, but I misjudged the amount of momentum I would need, and came to a stop with only my front tire on the plateau. The bike started rolling back down the embankment, and it was too heavy for me to keep it in place (because of the motor), and l didn't have the presence of mind to hit the brakes, so I rolled back down the embankment with it and landed flat on my back with the bike on top of me.

My pride was more wounded than anything else, thankfully. And I was near the end of the pack so only a few people saw it happen. I do wish I could have seen it from a third-person perspective; I'm sure it looked hilarious.

Anyway, that was a harbinger of things to come. A fair portion of the trek was on gravel roads dotted with larger rocks, and many of the roads were also being used by cars and hikers. Oh, right, and we were going up and down mountains.

Going up was actually okay. I mean, it was hard work, even with the e-assist, but going down the mountains, I was 50% sure that at any moment my bike was going to skid out and I would slide off the road and fall down a literal mountain. I had my rear brake fully engaged for pretty much the entirety of the descents and I think I got tendonitis in my neck from how hard I was clenching my jaw the entire time.

In theory you're supposed to keep to the right so cars can pass you on the left, but when the right side of the road was the cliff side, I made the executive decision to stay to the left instead. And I am alive today thanks to that decision (I assume).

There was a group of guys in their early 20s in the tour group who were acting like the worst version of guys in their early 20s -- immediately removing their shirts, refusing to wear their helmets, taking smoke breaks, showboating by popping fucking wheelies. I couldn't have rolled my eyes harder. Who are you trying to impress, dude? The only hot girl on this tour is here with her boyfriend.

There was also a middle-aged man who did his own showboating, but that just involved going off the trail to show how he could do real mountain biking, not like us trail-riding plebs.

After one of our descents, we wound up at a little inlet beach, where the water was shockingly blue.

I took off my shoes and socks and waded in the water. It was a little cold, but nice.

Of course, then we had to head back up. You wouldn't think the trip up would be more enjoyable, but biking up a mountain is much less terrifying than biking down a mountain. I was actually surprised by how much quicker the trip up was than the trip down.

See that light patch of lighter turquoise water where the land goes in? That's the beach we were at. I biked that.

The tour guide offered to take a picture of me looking sweaty and exhausted in front of a beautiful vista, so here's that:

Then we just had to get back to the starting point, which involved more descending down gravel roads, and then some comparatively pleasant biking through the city. I returned the bike and treated myself to some "I lived, bitch" gelato (flavor: Kinder Bueno).

To get back to the center of Marseille, I decided to take a ferry rather than the subway; it would take longer, but be more scenic. There was some mild confusion while boarding because I assumed that I could use my 72-hour transit pass, which supposedly included buses, trams, subways, and ferries. But it did not include THIS ferry, so I guess it just included the ferry that goes across the Vieux Port? So I paid €5. Which is honestly pretty cheap for a 20-minute boat ride. The most annoying part was that there were two women sitting near the boarding point who for some reason found it hilarious that I thought my transit pass would work on the ferry. Truly, they were acting like I tried to swipe a MetroCard or something.

We did indeed have lovely views from the ferry, and the spray from the boat's wake was nice and refreshing.

We got a good view of the Cathedrale La Major as we approached the Vieux Port.

Then I limped back to my hotel and took a much-needed shower. The end.

[spitfire-of-the-sea]

Stowaway Series, Part 3: A Bubbly Disaster

Finally, part 3 of the Stowaway series. I was torn between ending it there and continuing it, but for now stopped here. :D

Find part 1 and part 2 if you want to read the beginning of this. =)

Word count: 3 Warnings: Still SFW. Just a naked butt. Pretty safe, I think? Characters: Ace, Marco & Thatch... and cat!reader :D

The Stowaway Series, Part 3: A Bubbly Disaster

The last remnants of your sanity drowned in a bubble-filled bath that smelled of rose water and white lotus.

At least that was what the label of the bottle read, the content of which Ace had squirted quite generously into the bathtub while he filled it with warm water. Generously enough to result in a veritable mountain of bubbles you had almost hoped would hide you when Marco dropped you into the bathtub, rather unceremoniously so.

Ace had strongly protested that kind of treatment, the sweet boy, while you had sunken deep into a puffy cloud of white foam. Sure, you’d tried your very best to bite Marco’s thumb off a minute prior to that in an attempt to escape… well, to escape whatever the fuck was going to happen in a giant bathroom with three pirates with a combined bounty of over Two. Billion. Berry. And a combined shirt count of one.

So perhaps it didn’t come as a great surprise when Marco dropped you into the bath – with a happy grin, too. But honestly, a girl had to at least try, right? Not that you were totally against getting bathed by three handsome men suffering from a veritable lack of fabric. Preferably those men would not be world-renowned criminals, though. And preferably, you’d be in your human form, being fed grapes or something such. For this whole scenario to work, you shouldn’t be in your cat form. This was just plain weird.

So you’d splashed into the water and immediately stood up to your neck in it, spluttering as you tried to keep your nose over water. Of course, you landed on your feet – you were still a cat, even if only like… 50% of one. The foam had fused closed above you, hiding you from sight, and you’d tentatively waded towards where you thought the door might be, your fur soaking in water as swirls of rosé pink and white drifted past you. After a moment, you squeezed your eyes closed. A soap bubble had gotten into your right eye and you’d almost yowled in pain and annoyance.

 “Where is she?” you heard Ace ask, concerned. Groping hands parted the foam somewhere behind you, and you waded more quickly, your whiskers twitching desperately at the constant contact to the myriad of bubbles in front of your face.

“Ace, that was way too much,” Thatch commented and sighed. “I literally can’t see her in all those bubbles. Why’d you go for so much?”

“Girls like bubble baths,” Ace murmured, shoveling hands full of foam out of the tub. “I didn’t think it’d blow up like this. I should have used my soap.”

“She’s a cat-yoi,” Marco said, and you heard somebody move around the tub. Or at least you thought you did. The bubble foam made sizzling noises in your overly sensitive ears.

“Do you even have soap?” Thatch asked, sounding genuinely curios.

Flattening your ears against your skull, you waded onward, a task made very difficult by being fucking submerged in water to your nostrils. Using your tail like a paddle seemed to do little to propel your forward. Useless thing!

“She’s a girl cat,” Ace corrected him. “She might like it. Kotatsu likes bubble baths. Also. I do owe a soap. Fuck off.”

“Kotatsu is five times her size and is no danger of drowning in it,” Marco replied warily, and you heard fabric rustle, and then a big set of hands parted the foam to your right – you couldn’t see it, but you could hear it.

You melted away from that side and wondered how fucking huge this bathtub was?! Did they do communal baths?! Pirate orgy parties?! Where was the end of this?! You shuddered and waded onwards.

“When was the last time you took a bath, anyhow?” Thatch continued, unperturbed. Water splashed behind you, and you almost growled in annoyance. “By the way, I suspect Kotatsu appreciates the company of the nurses more than the bubbles,” he chuckled, and a hand touched your tail.

You snapped it forward against your body and squinted against the pain. Bubbles. Bubbles everywhere. Was this how you’d die? Suffocated by fucking bubbles?!

“Actually, only four days ago, thankyouverymuch.” Ace sounded exasperated.

You grimaced. Pirates.

“Well, you might as well use the chance,” you could hear Thatch and then something that sounded like he was heartily patting Ace’s back. “Since you went to all the trouble to prepare the biggest bubble disaster since Haruta’s prank of ’17.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna get in there naked. You saw what she tried to do to Marco’s thumb?”

You rolled your eyes. You hadn’t even been successful; your teeth had barely nicked him. Plus, whatever Ace was thinking, you definitely wouldn’t try to sink your teeth into his naked arse. Or anything else, for that matter. You had class, after all.

“Guys,” Marco said, “Focus. The cat.”

You’d given up trying to find your way out of the fucking bathtub for a moment, but now that hand after hand full of foam was suddenly shoveled away, your chance was slipping away quickly. You might have even made it to the rim of this veritable pool if a bubble hadn’t found its way into your left nostril. You tried to control yourself. To be zen. To find your inner center.

You managed for about 2.5 seconds before a hearty sneeze parted the bubbles in front of your face.

Aw, rats.

Looking up and squinting against the burning in your eyes, you saw Marco look down at you, clearly very amused. Clearly also very shirtless and up to his elbows in foamy water. He apparently hadn’t noticed the small cloud of foam that was sitting on his shoulder. “There she is.”

Yay. He found you.

You sneezed again, realized that the door was very much not in front of you, and heaved a sigh that didn’t even nearly match the tragedy one wrong decision had brought upon you. Closing your eyes again, you accepted your fate, your tail curled tightly around you, your ears flattened against your skull, and your strength seeping from your body from the continued contact with water – even if it wasn’t saltwater, it wasn’t exactly doing great things to your stamina and strength, submerged as you were.

“Where’d you get the bath thingy from, anyway?” Thatch asked and sidled up on the other side of the bathtub. You blinked your eyes open briefly. Long enough to notice that he had not bothered putting on a shirt in the meantime. Well. Understandable. But distracting. You closed your eyes again.

“Izou’s stash,” Ace answered and removed a bulk of foam from around you. “Aww, kitty, this is too high for you!” He moved away, and then a slurping sound somewhere behind you announced that he was letting some of the water out.

After a moment of silence, Thatch spoke up again. “He’ll kill you.”

“Naaaah,” Ace shook his head. “He’ll like her.”

“He’ll kill you and not even try to hide it. Shoot you right between the eyes.”

You ducked into the receding water line, curled up as much as you could. Five minutes spent in this porcelain prison, and they were already talking murder. Fucking hell. You better be a very convincing cat.

“Miau,” you uttered and cleared your throat. No, that hadn’t sounded quite right. “Miau?” you tried again, happier the tone.

“Sssh, kitty. It’s all good,” Ace said, and you personally didn’t think anything at all was good right now, but hey, you might be biased.

“He won’t kill me,” he then continued. “I’ll just tell him it was Marco.” He chuckled, and suddenly his hands were on you. Not that you could see right now, but he’d touched your butt enough times today for you to know the way his hands felt on you, and that in itself was… disconcerting. You didn’t even know how your life had derailed like this.

“Yeah, as if I’d be that dumb-yoi,” Marco snorted. “I think she’s got foam in her eyes, she’s not even opening her eyes.”

A large hand came around your chest and propped you up only a moment before a second hand cupped your face. You opened your mouth to protest – still undecided on whether this warranted a hiss or a growl, you weren’t quite sure on the proper cat etiquette – and felt water pour over your eyes. Sputtering, you tried to reel back, but Marco held you firmly. A moment later, his fingers traced your eyes, and the burning sensation was gone in a second. You slowly blinked your eyes open, seeing three very expectant faces looking down at you. All naked, as far as you could see. The men attached to the faces, that was, not just the faces. All very built as far as you could discern. Huh. Apparently a life of pirating made for great upper body training.

With some delay you remembered that you should probably be scared and shrunk away.

“She’s got pretty eyes,” Ace cooed and started to massage the shampoo into your fur, the movements surprisingly tender and somewhat hypnotizing. You blinked up at him. One plus point to Freckles. Clearly, he had great taste.

“Mhm,” Marco made and mirrored Ace’s movements at your front. Each only used one hand, steading your body with the other. There was literally nowhere left to go.

Ace’s hand felt pleasantly warm, while Marco’s was refreshingly cool. It was weird, but… if you had to be honest… probably the most comfortable bath treatment you’d ever gotten in your life. Ah, well. If you were doomed, you might as well enjoy a massage, right?

So what if they were hardened criminals? They also had amazingly dexterous fingers – probably from strangling marines or something such – and they hit just the right spots. Right there, on your lower back and just above your shoulder. You didn’t realize that your eyes had drifted shut, and you had started to purr until Marco chuckled.

“Not so bad now, huh?” he murmured. “Considering you were trying your best to chew off my finger just a minute ago, kitty-yoi.”

You abruptly stopped the purring, and your eyes snapped open. Right. Right. You shouldn’t get too comfortable. The chances that they’d do something nasty after going to the trouble of fishing you out of the sea and literally bathing you like a princess were slim. Not zero. But slim.

You eyed the three of them, taking note of their wide shoulders and muscular chests. Your eyes landed on Ace’s upper arm, the muscles rippling below his skin as he moved, and the letters spelled on it. ASCE. Drunken mistaken? Illiteracy? A lost bet?

The hat he’d worn before was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t look too hard, though; you got distracted by the freckles on his shoulders and, even more so, his very defined pectorals. Shit. He was hot.

Quickly looking away to the pirate in front of you – Marco – you hoped to regain focus. However, his chest was just as defined, and the lines of the giant tattoo there just invited your eyes to roam. It was like they were models for the Hottest Pirates of the Year calendar, and that was slightly unfair.

But enjoyable.

You looked up, your eyes locked with Marco’s, and for a horrible, horrible moment you saw something in his eyes that looked like scrutiny. His brow furrowed and you gulped. Shit. Did he know?! Shit. Shitshitshit.

Just then his hand reached your right ear and he started to rub circles against it and without any conscious choice your brain cells took a vacation and you absolutely melted into his hand like butter onto warm toast bread. One touch and any intelligent thought was annihilated. Your ears were your weakness. The purring was back, full volume, your chest vibrating.

“Awww, just listen to her. Almost as loud as Kotatsu,” Ace grinned and worked the shampoo into the fur along your spine, setting off all kinds so reflexes.

Overstimulated, your tail started to twitch as you tried to simultaneously shift against his hand while remaining in full contact with Marco’s hand at your ear. Your paws were kneading water, your eyes dropping closed.

Suddenly, it didn’t seem all that important anymore that they were allegedly plundering and killing their way through the Grand Line. Their hands were magic. To be fair, you’d never seen them make any trouble on your island, on the contrary… they restocked, paid good money… partied… and left.

Maybe they weren’t so bad.

Maybe getting a full-on body massage was actually completely ethically acceptable.

Maybe playing cat for like a week or however long it would take to land on another island wouldn’t be too bad.

“Well, seeing as you have the little Miss under control…,” Thatch said, and you’d have protested that notion if you weren’t so busy feeling fucking amazing right now. You cracked one eye open to watch him.

He got up and ran a hand through his wet hair. Somewhere, in the periphery of your conscience, you noticed that his wide chest and back were decorated with several tattoos, as were his muscular upper arms. “I’ll go take a shower, and rinse the salt off of me too.”

The next time you had something resembling a conscious thought was when your eyes landed on his very naked butt on the other side of the room, stepping into a shower. His very naked, very shapely butt. And his strong, muscular thighs. And, as he turned to draw the curtain closed, you saw even more that piqued your interest... You craned your neck, the purring momentarily forgotten. How… interesting.

 “Alright, I think she’s all shampooed up-yoi,” Marco decreed and dropped his hand from your ear. You shot him an indignant stare because you certainly didn’t feel all shampooed up yet, you were pretty sure there was a spot still missing just behind your ear. Why did he stop?!

“Didn’t get her paws yet,” Ace murmured, slid his hand below your belly and scooped you up in one movement before you could so much as squeak your protest. In the next moment, you were held against his chest and his fingers massaged your paws. The ticklish feeling immediately shot up your spine and you drew your paw back and away only for him to reach for the next one. The game went on – you had four paws after all – and perhaps you’d have tried to protest more strongly if you hadn’t been made very aware of Ace’s physique over the last minutes. A physique you were now very close to. Close enough to boop your nose against.

Thing was, the longer you stayed in your cat form, the more feral mannerisms bubbled up in you. You’d known this for a while and usually it was fine.

Did you feel the need to run after flickering lights sometimes? Yes.

Could you handle it? Usually.

However, you’d never been in your cat form for this long.

So your tongue was already out of your mouth and halfway to his neck when you realized what you were about to do. Scraping the remnants of your sanity together, you bit down hard, wincing at the pain and quickly turned your head away from him, eyes glazing over. What the hell.

You’d almost licked the 550 billion berry pirate like a Popsicle.

Perhaps he’d been right to decline a bath. Perhaps you would have tried to bite his ass if it was even half as nicely shaped as the rest of him. Just a little. Just a nip. In a friendly, complimentary way, of course. Respectfully.

“There you go, kitty, now you’re all clean,” Ace cooed into your ear and you shivered. Ah, shit. You were in even bigger trouble than you’d realized.

“Time to rinse it all out-yoi,” Marco announced suddenly. “Close your eyes!”

“What?” Ace managed to ask while you squeezed your eyes shut.

Next thing you knew you and Ace both were dripping wet, although it was fair to say that you had been for quite some time and were far less surprised. Ace, on the other hand, looked utterly flabbergasted as he glanced down over his length, then at you, then at Marco, and then back at himself. A frown appeared on his face.

“What the hell, man?!” he demanded to know, his hands tightening around you.

Marco chuckled. “I figured it was a good opportunity-yoi.”

“For what?!” Ace snapped. “Being the most annoying brother since Luffy raided the alligator mom’s nest and had her hunting us through the whole forest for days?!”

“Regular showers are highly encouraged,” Marco said mildly, a serene smile in place.

Ace’s fingers twitched and you looked up at him, seeing his grin grow absolutely feral as he lowered his head. Suddenly, you felt very much like you’d like to switch holder.

“Is that so?” he asked and tenderly set you on the ground. You made a squishing noise as you touched down and grimaced. Shampoo bubbles were still everywhere in your fur.

“As per the nurse’s request…-,” Marco started and easily dodged the bucket full of water Ace was splashing his way. How quickly he had managed to pick up the bucket, scoop it full with water, and splash it out was beyond you.

Within five seconds the situation had derailed completely. Marco was hosing Ace down at any chance he got, Ace was catapulting buckets full of foamy water at Marco, Thatch was humming in the shower as if this was an everyday occurrence, and you sat there. Just watching. Just wondering if these men were indeed the criminals you had assumed them to be.

Also… should you… like… just go finish rinsing yourself, or…?

Let me know with what we shall continue - Ace's bath? Picking a name for cat!reader that she will hate with a certainty of 100%? (Suggestions? :D) Let me know in the comments! :D @ms-sasa You wanted to be tagged, here you go! <3

[jvblood]

tear drops

pairing: argyle x afab!reader

word count: 2.2k

summary: argyle made the realization that he is dacryphilc. that is it.

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ minors dni), dacryphilia, dom!reader, pwp, m!reciveing oral, practice safe sex

Argyle found out something about himself that he wasn’t really proud of. It took three accidents before he realized how he was feeling about it and it was starting to be a problem. The first incident was whenever you and him were at your local skate park. You were learning a new trick, which ultimately failed. You landed on your back and you laid on the floor for just a bit. The pain on your back caused you to tear up. Not to the point of streaming down but your eyes were definitely pooling at the edge of your eyelashes.

Argyle was the first one to run beside you to check if you were okay. You look up at him and smile and a tear finally escapes. He watched the tear go down your face and something flipped the switch in him. 

“Uhh– you okay.” He asks, holding a hand out for you to take. 

“Yeah, just had that gnarly fall.” You say, grabbing his hand to help you get up and wipe the tear off. As you stood up, you lifted the back of your shirt and asked him if he thought it was going to leave a mark. He looks at your back, all red and a bit scratched from falling. He felt heat rise to his face yet again and felt weird about this. 

That was strike one. 

The second incident was when the two of you were at a roller rink. You were holding hands, skating around, that was until there was a bump in the way. You fell so fast that when Argyle blinked you were straight on the floor. Your knees hurt, they felt like hell. You just so happened to be wearing shorts too. Your knees were scraped and your eyes were pooling with tears. 

The two of you exit the rink area and go sit at a table. Argyle went to go grab a bandaid and came back to you, hands in your lap, waiting for him. You spot him walking towards you and you give him a blank smile. Your eyes were puffy and the tears were already gone. He kneeled before you and put the bandaid on for you and when he looked up at you, your face softened. 

Eyes puffy and red, you suggested it was time to leave. Argyle felt that funny feeling again looking up at you. 

Strike two. 

The third instance happened today. The two of you were at your house watching a movie that you’ve seen over 50 times. He wasn’t really paying that much attention to it but still enjoyed it. You, on the other hand, were entrapped with the movie. While watching the screen, you could feel tears start streaming down your face. Argyle only took notice when he heard you sniffle. 

“You okay?” He asks, waiting for your response. You look up at him,  eyes red and puffy. The tears on your face were slowly going down. 

“Yeah, it’s just this scene always gets the water works flowing.” You chuckle, wiping the tears off. 

 For some reason when he saw your reaction, he felt his heart rate beat a bit harder than he liked it to be. Not to mention he felt himself getting a bit hard. God, he felt like a pervert. Thankfully, the pillow that was over his lap was covering his situation. Yet, the movie just kept on making you cry. You were sniffling and frowning at the screen while Argyle was just fixated on you. You wiped some tears quickly after realizing your mascara was falling. He cringes at how he got hard so quickly. 

When the movie ended, you finally regained composure. Argyle though, could not. At this point he was supporting a hard on and tried everything in his power not to. He couldn’t help it, you looked too pretty. You got up from the couch and turned the TV off, cleaning up a bit around you two to make it look decent. You took notice at how Argyle wasn’t helping and the fact that the pillow was covering him. 

“Argyle?” You question. All he could do was hum, looking away from you. 

“Is everything okay?” You ask, sauntering over to him. 

“Uhm, yeah dude.” He huffs out. 

“Can you help me?” You ask, testing the waters.

“Yeah! Totally. What do you need me to do?” He says. 

“Stand up.” You say, crossing your arms. Argyle’s face dropped at the thought. You knew damn well what was going on. Argyle looked at you wide eyed and mouth open trying to come up with something. 

“Argyle.” You whisper to him trying to get his attention. He refuses to look at you, trying to not make his situation worsen. By now, you’re looking at the pillow in his lap. You reach to grab the pillow but he reacts instantly and grips onto it. He’s in a state of panic looking at how he’s gripping at the pillow and now looking at you. You call out his name one more time, teasingly. He sighs and lifts the pillow. Underneath, Argyle was hard. Bewildered as you look between him and the boner. “When was this?” You exclaimed. Confused because the movie was quite sad and you didn’t think anything else of it. 

“During the whole movie.” He admits.

“How?” You question, not really knowing how he could get hard. Argyle just went silent. He was too embarrassed to say. He felt like a degenerate for even thinking about it. The thought of your pretty eyes cloudy with tears. God he felt sick. You keep on egging him to confess but he’s ultimately mute. 

“Argyle, I could help you if you want, just–I would like to know how.” You say slowly falling to your knees. His breath hitches as you slowly began to rub your hands up and down his thighs. 

“Well,” he stutters, heat rising up to his face “ it’s pretty fucked up of me.” He’s avoiding eye contact with you and scratching his head. Yet, his boner is still in full effect. 

“It’s okay, I won’t judge. I could never judge you.” You coo as you slowly reach for his erection through his pants. His eyes shot down to watch you palm him, eyebrows furrowed in anticipation. 

“You can trust me.” You purr as you reach for the button of his pants. Slowly, playing with it. 

“You were–fuck–crying. When you were crying it sorta just happened.” He admits, this caught you by surprise. You never knew that he could be turned on by such a thing. He starts going off about how ‘he felt like a pervert and how he didn’t really want for it to happen but you looked so pretty.’ You smile at his confession and unbutton his pants. 

“Do you want me to continue?” You ask before you reach to pull his erection out. Argyle nodded so quickly that he almost sprained his neck. You smirk at his excitement and pull out his cock. Slowly, you began to stroke him. He shudders underneath your touch as you begin moving up and down. 

“You said while I was crying,” you pondered “ Argyle, I didn’t know you were such a pervert.” You tease him by emphasizing on pervert. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes while looking down at you. Lazily, you move your hand along his length. You dribble a bit of spit on top of his tip and watch it drop down. His breath hitches as you begin stroking again with the added spit. 

“It’s okay, I think it’s kinda hot.” You coo as you lick your lips. You gradually lower your lips to meet his tip, kissing softly. He watches in anguish as you tease him. He pleads for more contact, shutting his eyes at the feelings of you on his dick. You smirk at his demise and slowly begin to take him in your mouth. 

He tilts his head back when he feels the familiar warmth that surrounds him. His hands are gripping the couch as you try to take him deeper. He watches you try to take more of him and your eyes begin to water. You knew he wanted it and this is what you were going to give him. You come back up to get a breather and a string of spit snaps as you pull away from his cock. 

“You wanna fuck my face?” You ask, slurring your words. He nods eagerly and he puts a hand onto your head, lacing his fingers through your hair, trying to get a grip. He looks at you, waiting for approval to start moving. You look at him, nodding to let him know. Slowly, he guides your head back onto his cock. He’s being gentle, not wanting to make you uncomfortable in the slightest. 

“Pinch me if it gets too much, okay?” He  says purely because he doesn’t want to make you uneasy. You try to smile with his cock in your mouth to let him know. He began to move your head a bit quicker. The sound of your mouth sucking his cock starts to get louder and louder. 

Your eyes began to water again and soon enough, tears began going down again. With how fast Argyle began to move your head and seeing you begin to cry, he was getting close. You could feel in your mouth that he was getting close as he began to throb inside your mouth. He moans as he looks down at the sight of you. Your eyebrows wrinkles, tears falling and forming and his cock disappearing in your throat. He exclaims that he’s cumming as he finally pushes your head down onto his length fully. 

You roll your eyes back as he finally releases into you. He gingerly pulls you off his cock and you open your mouth to show him to show his seed that it’s no longer there. Your face is warm and your throat finally empty. As much as he thought that he would be finished, his cock was still hard. You get off of the floor and discard your pants and underwear. You grab his hand for him to get a feel of how wet you are. He moans as he slowly begins to slip a finger in. You rolled your eyes as he began to slowly curl his finger in. 

He picks up the rhythm and begins to curl his finger faster. You grip onto his shirt to gain some sort of balance and begin to shiver at the feeling. The sound of him moving his finger in your wet cunt gets louder each time he goes faster. You clench your walls absentmindedly as he  added another finger inside. He could feel you getting closer as you lean into him, moaning as he picked up the speed. Your eyes roll back into your head as he finally stops and removes his finger. Whining out loud at the loss of it, your legs begin to shake a bit. 

“I’m sorry– I saw somewhere to do that to like–” He rambles trying to let you know why he edged you. You try to form a coherent sentence to tell him that it was fine and thankfully he understood. Your knees locking from the sensation, you finally decide to straddle him. His breath gets caught in the back of his throat as he feels the wet warmth from your cunt. You grab hold onto his cock and line him up, slowly you begin to lower yourself onto him. The two of you shiver in ecstasy as he fills you up completely. 

He bucks his hips into steadily latching his hands on your waist to hold onto you. You gasp out feeling as he leisurely thrusts into you. You fall onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He caresses your back, feeling the rough spots that’s on your back whenever you fell the other day. He takes the opportunity and picks up speed. Your breath hitches as he began to accelerate. 

“Faster.” You moan into his ear. Soon enough, the speed of thrusts began to quickly pick up speed. The sound of skin slapping fills the room. He wraps his arms around your waist and begins to pound. This was new. Usually, he would like to take his time but today was obviously different. You curse at the feeling and unbeknownst to you, your eyes were getting clouded as you were getting overstimulated. You feel the coil forming as his speed wasn’t stopping any time soon. He feels you tighten around him as he thrusts. 

Suddenly, you felt your release hit and quickly got up off of him, legs shaking. You steady yourself to look at him as he watches your legs shiver and pouts. He looks at you with eagerness in his eyes and you take the hint and steadily let him enter you again.. Your cunt tightens around him and he hisses. He lays there waiting for the okay before he decides to move again. You whisper for him to move and he slowly penetrates. He rolls his eyes to the back of his head feeling you tighten for him and he ruts his hips, indicating his release. He ruts hard, hitting into you.

He pulls out from inside you and shuts his eyes in ecstasy. The two of you are sweaty and holding each other on the couch. Both of you trying to get down from your highs. You rest your head on his chest, hearing his heart pound underneath you. 

“You know you’re a freak, right?” you say, closing your eyes, ready to take a nap.

“Yeah.” He says, wrapping his arms around you.