Pitch Perfect 3 Imagines (COMPLETED)

Drunken Cuddles

"MORE SHOTS!"

Y/N groans, covering her face with her hands. "Stacie, please no more."

"DJ Y/N Mitchell takes shots like a frolly!" Amy punches the air and they all stare at her. Next to her on the couch, Emily lets out a giggle.

"Dude, what the fuck is a frolly?" Y/N says, crossing her arms defensively because even though she doesn't what a frolly is, she's pretty sure Amy is insulting her.

Amy just smirks before pouring them more shots.

Y/N feels a hand pat her on the head.

"You are just so...tall." Y/N looks to see Emily staring at her in wonder. "How are you so tall? My mom always said if I ate my veggies I would get tall. She also says bananas make you poop. I hate bananas."

Y/N snorts out a small laugh. "Okayyy, I think that's enough shots for you, Legacy."

"Yeah, you're probably right. You always know so many things. I'm so glad I'm a Bella and you're a Bella and you can teach me because it's just like, so cool to be a Bella." Y/N's eyes widen as Emily leans her head into Y/N's neck, her breath hot and slow against Y/N's chest.

"Umm. Yeah." Y/N smiles fondly and puts her arm behind Emily on the couch to better distribute her weight.

"Hold up your hand," Emily instructs, voice small and tired. She lets out a yawn.

Y/N holds her hand up and Emily touches their palms together, measuring their fingers.

"You have such cute hands..." Emily whispers, leaning her head up to look at Y/N. Her nose brushes Y/N's cheek and Y/N blinks rapidly, suddenly overwhelmed by how close they are and how Emily's eyes are the deepest brown she's ever seen. Emily smells good, like really good, familiar like nostalgia and fresh like autumn leaves.

Emily shifts her fingers so they twine through Y/N's, letting them presss against Y/N's knuckles and squeezing. Emily exhales heavily, nestling her chin further into Y/N's chest, their clasped hand falling to Y/N's lap.

"Wowwww, Legacy," Amy says, letting out an overly dramatic sigh. "You pine more than a tree."

Emily shifts against Y/N, but doesn't lift her head. Y/N glances up, an uncomfortable tension filling her chest that almost feels like anger. "Amy," she snaps. "For once can you please shut up."

Amy holds her hands up innocently and heads to the kitchen. Y/N scowls, but Emily just mutters a quiet "thanks" before she yawns sleepily again.

And for the first time in her life, Y/N feels big, and steady, and unshakable, like the Rocky Mountains.

When Emily falls asleep, Y/N doesn't leave, just glares at Amy every time she brings her smirk near the couch. She stays there, even as her shoulder falls asleep and the clock ticks past 3am.

She doesn't move, not until she decides to carry Emily to her bed for the rest of the night because this couch sucks for sleeping on and Emily's legs are so long they hang over the armrest.

In the morning, when Y/N wakes up, Emily's chin is still pressed to her chest, her long legs draped all the way over Y/N's.

Y/N finds that, somehow, she doesn't really mind.