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#she let herself drown in that case
dannybobany · 2 months
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"1-800-Sins" by R.I.P. gives me the vibe of like secret detective or smth. Like some alley way & talking with thugs, and just trying to make the world a better place.
But. In a secretive manner
Ooooufh I like that … Betty perhaps
That entire soundtrack is sooo good I love it so much idk if you knew it was a soundtrack I didn’t when I found it but if you didn’t you should check out the other songs it’s good stuff !!! Despite that it’s part of a soundtrack that pairs with a specific animation I feel like the songs carry so much emotion with them apart from their context to where you can apply them to other context and still make sense
Like how I put mommy on Cecil’s playlist, it does have a particular moment it was meant for but I think the title and the music when reapplied to Cecil’s situation still makes sense it’s just that kind of instrumental
Anyway, 1-800 sins! I agree with that particular reapplication of the song I think it makes a lot of sense- hehehehe I said this already but I love your song interpretations
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praeluxius · 3 months
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c'est la vie - Kim Minju
Part 3 of folie à deux.
IZ*ONE Kim Minju x Male reader smut. (ft. a sprinkle of Wonyoung)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
Masterlist word count: 10,553
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c'est la vie - that's life
"I'm so fucked."
Fists clenched and eyes scrunched, you’re venting out loud to no one in particular. You repeat it, "I'm so fucked." Louder this time—to the sky. Well, more accurately, to the plastered ceiling of this little hole-in-the-wall. Either way, the solution isn't there.
It isn't at the bottom of a bottle either, but you're determined to find that out the hard way.
"Is there a friend I can call for you?" The woman behind the bar has stopped polishing off the glasses; interrupted by what she would say are the ramblings of a madman.
"There's no coming back from this." You throw your head forward, catching it in your now open hands, elbows resting on the wooden bar top.
"Sir? I'm going to call you a—"
"I don't need a cab." You draw your head from your hands and open your eyes—allowing the light to pour onto you from one of those little round lights above you. The drink sits in front of you, unfinished. Hard liquor in a tumbler just waiting to be thrown back like the three before it—a plea you can’t ignore. The large ice cube rests against your nose as you pour every last drop onto your tongue and swallow. "I do need another drink."
With the glass set back down, your body slouches and sinks. Eyes stare down at the empty glass and your face is cold to the world, cold to the woman across from you. You must reek of self-pity, the smell thick in the air. 
Let’s be honest, you've had far better days.
She's got her delicate fingers around the neck of the bottle, pouring you a fresh drink and placing it on a napkin, "you know, you're not the first person to stumble into this bar wearing a face like that."
You slide your eyes over to the glass and reach for it. "I highly doubt it."
"But, few of them show up this early, even if it is a Friday." She has a point: you’re propping up the bar alone and drowning your sorrows solo. In fact, there are only two other people in this whole place, sitting together at a table. "So what’s your story?"
"Does there have to be one?" You grip the glass in your hand, giving the stranger the best smile you can fake.
She steps back and brushes her hand on her trousers as she laughs, "I've seen many broken men and women sit at this bar and spend too many hours drinking their life savings, with hearts broken, dreams smashed and most of all, mistakes they regretted. But you seem different."
"Oh really, why's that?" Your eyes stare into your drink. It stares right back at you.
"You're still young."
"Does being broken have an age requirement?"
She shifts and reaches for something, something you can't quite make out, being locked in the most intimate of stares with your drink. It’s the sound of her placing down another fresh glass that gives it away. "Actually, yes. Because you've still got time to work with."
"That's the irony. All I have left is time."
“Then you have to believe in yourself to make the most of that time.” Her words are heavy, like their meaning holds weight within her too.
She lets you dwell on it for a moment while she pours her own drink. She settles herself against the bar top, across from you, resting her head in one open hand. Her gaze burns into you like sitting in the sun. You can feel something else too, a soft vibration in your pocket.
You finally break away from your staring contest with your drink—one you lost anyway—to fish your phone out of your pocket. The screen alights with Gaeul’s name and is followed by the words ‘1 new message’.
After a swipe, it reads, ‘wtf where are you? what happened?’ but the thought of sending a reply never crosses your mind. And, just in case, you switch it over to silent.
“Is that her?” The woman gently waves a slender finger towards your phone as you put it back where you found it. “The reason you’re here?”
"Do you press all your customers like this?"
“Only the interesting ones,” she returns her hand to her glass, taking a sip of it before continuing, “and there’s sadly so few of those.”
"And if I'm not as interesting as you think?"
"Then I'll buy you a drink.” She tilts her glass at you. "For the trouble."
"And if I'm fascinating?"
"I'll still buy you a drink." Another sip from her glass as her lip gloss stains the rim, "maybe two."
"Then no, it wasn't her." And here's the thing, you don't know who to blame. Yourself? Probably. Wonyoung? Maybe. The mystery cameraman who got it all on video? Almost definitely. 
“But it is another woman, right?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m not exactly rushed off my feet here.”
You sigh, unsure exactly where to begin with this whole mess. The complete story is a long one. You could tell her about your family—the trouble at home and why you had to leave—but that’s not for anyone to know.
"I transferred here. Moved here with my brother. He's at work right now, and he will be late into the evening." You pause to take another drink. Another burning sensation. "To keep food on our table and keep me in college." 
Even saying so little it weighs on you, the feelings of regret and the feeling that you're saying too much. You bite your tongue and hesitate.
"So why are you here and… you know... not at college?" She pushes you for more. She flicks a finger towards you with her free hand and then brings her glass to her lips.
You drag your eyes up for the first time and finally inspect the woman across from you.
She's your age, roughly—if you had to guess. She's pretty, and that part you're more confident about. She wears her long brunette hair over one shoulder, running in a loose wave, over her slate black blazer, which sits over a small black tee, cropped at the waist. She smiles when your eyes meet hers. And maybe she had no idea, and perhaps it's all subconscious, but the tips of her slender fingers squeeze slightly against the glass now that you're paying her some attention.
"I never got your name," you say with curiosity laden in your voice.
"Minju."
"And why is a young woman like you working here on a Friday afternoon?"
"Were you not the one telling me about your troubles?" She follows her words with a soft laugh.
"Call it quid pro quo. You answer and then I’ll tell you all about it," you say.
"Fine." She stands back upright, adjusting her blouse with a few gentle touches. The way her finger glides across the collar and tugs at it slightly. It's more than a little distracting. She cuts a sleek hourglass shape out of the shelves of bottled booze behind her. "I'm between gigs right now."
"Gigs?"
"Ah." She waves a finger. "My turn."
Minju tilts her head and then rests her palm against the bar—leaning toward you and eyes focused. It’s like an inspection and you instinctively sit up straighter.
"So why are you here?" she asks.
"Expelled. About..." You bring up your wristwatch into view. "About an hour ago."
Her brows go up a fraction and her eyes narrow on you again, almost as if to accuse you of lying to her. But her expression softens almost instantly. You would never notice if not for watching every second in painstaking detail. Her widening eyes reveal to you the thoughts passing through her mind as she racks her brain for a reason you would be expelled.
"You said that you're between gigs, so what is it you do?" you say, shifting the focus back away from yourself.
"I sing. I dance. I model. I act." She pauses with a bitter look. "However, right now, I serve drinks." You get it; she looks the part. That much is clear. She's far too gorgeous to be spending her time polishing glasses and serving screwdrivers to burnouts at happy hour. She looks every bit like a woman who should be so much more, but this isn't Hollywood, and the storybook tale of the waitress who makes it is so cliché.
You swill the last of your drink around in the glass, watching the little tidal pattern inside. The way the ice cube moves with the current, it hypnotises, entrances. You speak, looking down into the amber-hued ocean within your glass.
"And you have the talent to back up the looks?"
"So they tell me." There's no joy in the words or the tone. No pride or smug sense of achievement. If anything, it's dismissive. “It’s just a slow period. That’s life.”
“C’est la vie.” You catch her gaze as you utter the phrase under your breath.
Minju continues despite you, “but things will turn around soon enough. I'm going places."
"Every actor who is going places never seems to get there." Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's because, right now, you hate this city and everyone in it, but everything that comes out of your mouth is uncharacteristically curt.
And look, you regret it as soon as it leaves your mouth but that doesn't change the way you just dismissed her. It wasn't meant personally, but it's hard to stop your thoughts from curdling into words right now.
Minju is quiet, and the air becomes heavy. You swallow deep and finally look her in the eyes again. There's something there, some little flicker of emotion untold that gives her away for a moment. She is a woman told repeatedly that she has the world at her feet, but the hard truth of it is that she's here, working away behind the bar because, in fact, life is a lot more cruel.
Absorbed by her vulnerability, you feel the need to backtrack, "that's not—"
"So what, you look at me and see nothing but a girl who couldn't cut it?" There's a flash of fire in her eyes. A burn. A spark that sets the sky alight. A very attractive spark.
The way she fires it back. The passion in her words. The tension building between you as your eyes linger on each other.
You can't explain the attraction, but you can certainly feel it.
"No," you fire back without hesitation, leaning towards her, "what I see is a woman working two jobs just to afford a place to live." Your confidence rises with the alcohol pumping its way through your system and you do your damnedest to rescue the situation. "What I see is a girl with stars in her eyes and a dream that somehow she still keeps alive where so many more have given up. I'm not judging."
Silence.
Sudden, silent, and slightly sinister.
"Yeah, you were," Minju's eyebrows arch in amusement, "but that's fine, I'll take my turn now."
As she leans forward, there are words on her tongue. She looks ready to bite back, but she's looking over you, across the room, watching the only other two people in the bar leave. And for a minute, everything is held in suspense, you are locked together in silence, the clap of their shoes echoing through it. Then the sound of the door, and the brief exposure to the outside world, it's the rain pouring and the cars passing by and then it's the slam shut. It's just you and her, Minju, alone under the dim of the lights.
"So what was it?" she finally breaks the silence.
"Hm?"
"What got you expelled?"
You could lie. There's an opportunity for that. But what's the point? Even though she's a stranger, it doesn't feel like there's a risk if you just come clean and spill your dirty little secret, besides, you owe her one now.
"I got caught fucking in the library." The truth comes out plain and simple. It’s a brazen statement to make in the middle of the afternoon to a stranger. Her gaze shoots down at you. Whatever she expected, it wasn't that.
"I’m sorry, you were caught fucking in the library?" She repeats it out quizzically as if she’s taking time to process. Minju has this way of talking—a lilt in her voice. She has a tone and a pitch that rises and falls with each word. She's amused, that much is clear, by the slight smirk that has curled a corner of her mouth to accompany her sound.
"We were alone, or at least we thought we were, and it’s not like we hadn’t done it before, but apparently, there's evidence." You gesture your empty glass at her, a secondary conversation, unspoken but clear that you need another drink before you tell her anything else.
In doing so you see how she tenses her lips together, holding in her laughter at the thought. She’s holding and you’re watching until she finally cracks, her grin wide and laughter loud.
"Now I am the one judging you. You made fun of me for trying while you're too busy swinging your cock around to even try. So, you tell me, who is the stupid one here?"
"Alright I deserved that one." Your hand had been holding the empty glass to her but now you bring it to rest against the bar top. "In my defence, it's not like I had much of a choice. That girl..."
"Here we go. Let's see how you justify this one." She finally takes your empty glass and when the edge of her fingers brushes across the back of your hand, they linger for far too long. And when she draws back, dragging away those long, delicate fingers from your own, you find yourself suddenly cold.
"It's not like I could turn her down if I wanted to. Also I would never have done it in the library if she didn't make me."
"She 'made' you. Go on." There's scepticism in the words. Her mocking tone teasing you as you watch her turn to the shelves behind her, eyes scanning the possibilities.
"No one says no to her. Never."
"Wow, sounds like quite a woman," she says, ever more playful, as she reaches for the top shelf. Her blazer is pulled up now, ever so slightly exposing her back above the waist of her trousers. Trousers hugging the subtle swell of her hips. Her small, tight, round ass is defined through the fitted fabric. You can't look away.
"Everything comes easily for her. There are literally men fighting for her affections. They would die for her," the words tumble from your mouth, as your gaze lingers.
You must have been lost in the daze and absent-mindedly following the contours of her thighs because by the time you shift focus to her face, she's peering at you from over her shoulder. Eyes sharp as daggers, as if to say it’s a little too obvious.
"Wow she sounds like a real piece of work. I know someone like that too. " Minju turns with bottle in hand, hair swirling around her as she does so. She's graceful. Unbothered and unhurried by anything. "This one is perfect. This bottle is older than me."
She pours two fresh drinks with more ice in each.
"Am I going to regret this in the morning?" you question as the weight of the glass finds your hand.
"You might. But at this moment? No."
You trust her, somehow, inexplicably; you do.
She asks, “so, what will you do now?” it’s a question as funny as it is difficult to answer. 
The truth is that you haven’t got the slightest clue. You tell her as much and try to explain it as best you can, and her eyes soften as you share the details. It’s supposed to be a back-and-forth—quid pro quo—but she’s pressing you with question after question: how long have you known her? Is she pretty? Where does she see you in all of this?
“You and her. Still a thing?”
Minju is on your side of the bar now, sitting by your side with little caution about personal space; there’s not an inch of space between you. Her thigh presses against you and her upper arm is flush with your own.
"Me and Wonyoung were never a thing, not really."
Minju stops dead and chokes, holding her throat, and forcing the drink down. Her whole body shifts. She nearly falls off the bar stool and, after steadying herself, she stares blankly forwards.
"Wonyoung? Jang Wonyoung?"
"Yeah, her." The new drink meets your lips and its taste is a hell of a lot richer than the cheap stuff you were pouring down. It’s laden with a smoky taste over sweet tones.
There's a silence even after you finish taking a drink. Something untold hangs in the air. You know it. She knows it. She's here on the verge of telling you something, but what? And you sit here and wait, despite the racing of your heartbeat.
"I should have known." Minju shakes her head, laughing, but without a smile.
"Should've known what?"
"You're Wonyoung's new toy. I should have guessed as soon as I saw you, she has this effect on people."
You stiffen at that. It's always the truth that hurts the most and the fact is you really were just a toy. A convenient dildo.
"You know what you need right now?" She twists on the stool, and suddenly, you've got Minju looking straight at you. Eyes locking with you. Right there. Looking up at you. So close. Right there, leaning back ever so slightly so her chest arches towards you, accentuating her small breasts, straining against her shirt.
"Drinking helps," you reply, raising your glass.
"Yes, but so does fucking."
That’s a line. It’s one that shouldn’t come as a surprise because a girl like this probably has a lot of experience in being wanted, so who is to say she can’t turn the table for once? But in one breath you’re giddy, taken out of yourself and feeling drunker by the moment. Not on the booze, but her. She is intoxicating.
It takes you a few seconds to notice but her free hand slips on your leg, rubbing and caressing as it snakes further and further up.
"What?" You ask as if it needs confirmation and in those long few moments, you think you must have imagined it. And the same way a nervous laughter rises, the laughter spilling out of your throat, she is quick to quench the growing dread inside of you by sliding her palm across your bulge.
"Wait here." Something has switched inside her. You don’t know what, but either way, it's got her standing up and strutting towards the door. With each step, she opens her body language. A growing swagger, letting you see the sway of her hips. Left and right. Just enough to catch the eye. And oh boy, does your eye get caught. You couldn't pull your gaze away now if you wanted to.
She's swiping hands at the door now and flicking the locks. Then she's pulling the blinds shut. A giggle comes from Minju as she spins back to face you. She runs her bottom lip through her teeth and stares right into you.
You feel exposed but, strangely, comfortable. It's so very odd; with no clue as to what happens next. It has your heart pounding out of your chest.
"I thought you were alone tonight because you were upset, but no, I understand it now. You're frustrated. Angry. Stressed. She used you and got away with it."
She kicks off her heels, loses a few centimetres in height, and is walking barefoot across the floor - toward you. Her shoulder rolls to one side and then to the other as her body rises and falls, sashays with the pace of her hips. She can see that you're stuck. You’re rooted to the seat with a dumb look on your face, and yet she saunters ever closer.
“I am a little confused,” you finally say. She's so close that all your senses are lost to the approach of Minju's swaying frame. Her curves, her body, her gentle steps, the way her perfume smells—it's consuming you.
She ignores you and continues, "I’m frustrated too. I'm so frustrated that I'm wasting time in this damn bar. I'm angry at all the auditions that ended up with producers rejecting me. I know exactly what you're feeling. You're angry at the world and everyone in it." Her tone grows raspier. More raw and less stable. "You feel alone. Hung out to dry and in need of attention."
"And you feel the same?"
"Yes, and I'm hungry. Starved of any real satisfaction. You told me I’m going nowhere and I guess it means I need a little attention, too."
You watch her eyes flittering as she looks you up and down. The sultry grin she wears shows she likes what she sees.
"So what are you going to do about it, Minju? What is the solution?" You drop a look down to the soft and slender flesh of her neck.
"No strings. We get this all out of our system." Minju leans in. Lips so close to yours. She stays there. It's torture. "You let all that shit out. Take out your pent-up stress, frustration, anger."
"On you?"
"Exactly. You'll feel better. I will too. Because right now…" Her nose presses against the side of your own. Soft skin. Gentle pressure. "I need it rough."
Her hand lands on your thigh again, rubbing down the denim of your jeans.
The offer is enticing. It has your head swimming with dirty images of everything the two of you could do together, and your cock? Well, that's already twitching in your underwear.
"This isn’t going to help, it will just make things worse."
"Can they really get any worse?"
Minju brings your hand, hers and yours, to her waist. Your thumb feels the soft material of her shirt, and your fingers touch that small patch of skin below it.
"Are we prepared to find out?" Your lips graze gently against hers. The thrill. The electricity in the air.
"I’m ready. More than ready. Just this once, do what you want to do and make me the star of your fantasy. Use me. Make me everything you need." She plants her lips firmly on yours. You both go quiet, muffled by a kiss.
Nothing to do but feel.
Minju's grip tightens on your leg, and yours on her waist. The other hand slides up to her chest, finding her breast, cupping it and feeling her. She opens her mouth. And you follow. Your tongues are colliding and sweeping across one another, eager and desperate.
So you push, guiding the two of you to stand. Minju staggers back, and you're with her every step of the way. Stumbling through a kiss. Hands everywhere. Uncertain. Lost, confused, and passionate. It's an incoherent tumble that takes you both crashing through chairs, pushing them aside until you hit something sturdy. Minju's ass slams against the pool table and she grunts into your mouth.
Her lips drag away and she smiles. "Fuck me."
You grab her by the hips, lifting her onto the pool table.
"I need to see the big cock that’s got Wony all worked up. She wouldn’t settle for anything disappointing." She's fumbling at your waist, struggling with the buckle of your jeans.
"This what you want?" Your words vibrate through her. And when you take a handful of her hair and tug, there's a long, soft, desperate sigh from Minju's parted lips.
"Use me. Abuse me." Her fumbling finally succeeds and the waist of your trousers slackens. "I know how I look, but don't worry, you're not going to break me."
She's pushing at your trousers, your boxers, and when that stiff dick pops out, her smile spreads into a big, stupid grin. It's not an unattractive expression—not really. It just tells the truth. She is excited. 
It’s as clear as day that you are too. You’re rock hard, stiff as hell, ready to fuck, and this, this will give you the chance to let it all out. All of it.
"Perfect." Minju grabs your cock in both hands, still warm, throbbing, and strong. "Just look at this thing."
You pull on her hair again, harder, until she breaks away from you, until she gives way—losing the grip on your cock and falling back on the table. And now you slow as if to savour the moment as you’re sliding your fingers under the waist of her trousers. Not often you get afforded a measure of control.
"C’mon, please, don't be gentle," Minju moans out through gritted teeth. The desperation is painted on her face and that’s the difference here: while a girl like Wonyoung wouldn’t let you go slow, Minju is the type of girl who makes you not want to go slow.
So you pull at the trousers of the girl sprawling out in front of you, tearing the button from the fabric, yanking them open and pulling them down those long, slender legs. The flesh is soft. And to touch, so smooth and light. Minju's breathing picks up—becoming shorter and deeper with each touch to her sensitive skin.
"I might leave marks."
Minju stares you down, hands already massaging over her panties. "I hope you will."
The thought is intoxicating, so much more so than the alcohol in your blood, as your hands paw over her legs; you knead soft skin with a kind of aggression you haven't felt before.
Minju is a rare girl.
Beautiful. And by definition, beautiful women have seen it all before.
But her?
The look she gives? Like no man has ever fully satisfied the itch within her. It's deep-set hunger. The kind that she chases endlessly for.
This hunger makes people behave stupidly, careless and forgetful of the consequences. And maybe you know that all too well but even still it's a risk worth taking. Every choice has led you here and maybe that is your solace, that it's not all downhill from here.
And as your hands reach her small satin panties, the warmth embraces you, and the urge within you grows. You hook your fingers inside and draw the panties aside to expose the tight pink flesh of Minju's cunt.
Not that you would expect anything else, but she is clean-shaven. So smooth. Not a single blemish. This is a girl who kept herself neat and pristine, and yet from her mouth spills utter filth, "just look at how wet this pussy is for you."
She's running her fingers between her lips, showing you everything she has to offer between her legs, showing you where she expects you dick will get put to use.
"This tight fucking cunt can take everything your thick cock has to give."
"Minju, you’re so..." You're standing over her, her legs spread wide beside you, blazer falling from her shoulders leaving nothing covering her but that low-cut top.
Minju stares right at you, eyes fixed, wide and eager, her chest heaves with every deepening breath she takes in. She's wild, reaching for you with one hand, stretching to hold you and then pulling at your shirt to draw you in.
"I'm so needy. Please fuck me." She's whining through closed lips as her other hand slips away from her pussy and glides over her taut abs and leaving her cunt ready to be used. She wants it, desperately, and you're drawing it out. Making it build inside her, and you hold your cock in your hand.
You're stroking, and she's watching. And for all her strain to pull at your shirt, to pull you into her, you hold back. You hold just long enough. Enough for her arm to fall limp. Enough for her to almost give in. "Please..." she trails off with a whimper.
You push the head of your stiff cock against her cunt—against her clit. Your hips roll as you run the entire underside of your cock between her lips. She gasps and breathes deeply. She's holding it all the while. All the time it takes for you to draw your cock back, so the tip is right there. Ready.
She let's go as you do. The air escapes her lungs with a sharp squeal. You let your cock sink in. Slow but persistent, you push further and further, feeling her tensing. Then the clench and tightness overwhelms. She gasps and squirms, wriggles beneath you and her nails scratch at the fabric of the table beneath her.
You push again, sinking your cock as far as you can through her wet hole.
There's a loud snap and squeal from Minju. Pretty girl broke a nail. It flew off somewhere across the room, such is her grip onto the table. "Fuck. So fucking full," she manages, barely. It's more the noise you force from her than any actual communication.
You draw your hips back and she's quick to encourage you, "again," she says.
Your hips are driving forward again, pushing every last centimetre back through her.
Minju whimpers. There's this short, sweet purr from deep within her. You feel her stretch, she moves a little, adjusting herself atop the pool table. There's a warmth that swells, tightens, and pulsates. And you feel the breath come easier. It leaves her as though her body has settled to a kind of ease and pleasure, some form of satisfaction.
You refuse to let her rest. It's not what she would want.
It's not what you want.
You run your hands along her inner thighs, past her knees until you finally reach her ankles and pull them together and hold them aloft. You lift and pull her ass up slightly from the table. She's suspended now while you fuck into her.
The shake of her small frame is completely erotic. Watching her ass and thighs jiggle as you fuck into her. That plump little ass taking slap after slap from your hips.
Her perfect skin reddens as her moans louden the longer you last. There are high-pitched squeals and low and gritty growls. They bounce around the empty bar, reverberating and multiplying—echoing back louder than before.
"Harder." She thinks she can take more. Look, Wonyoung was demanding, she wanted to control everything and push your limits, but Minju? Minju is whole different type of demanding. She's welcoming everything you have with every fibre of her being. Her pussy so eagerly taking it all, and it just seems like no matter what limit you push past, or the more Minju takes, the more she craves.
You pull her legs to you, calves on your shoulders, feet in the air, and your hands move firmly onto her hips. You steady her—ready her. Your grip bruises the tender skin (hey, it's what she wants) and then you fuck her like your life depends on it. Your cock pumping inside with reckless abandon.
"Keep going! Just like that! Fuck!" her voice rises over the rhythm of your low grunts, and the crack of your hips slapping against her ass.
Minju's face twists, red and flushed. She's so tense. Muscles tight around the neck and her teeth buried in the soft flesh of her lower lip. Her voice is low and raw, growling, as she pleads for more with words you can't pretend to understand. It's not eloquent or graceful... In fact, it's that incoherence that makes this all the better—so utterly unbothered, unconcerned with anything other than being thoroughly used, fucked and defiled.
She has that hungry glaze in her eyes when you look down upon her, a girl being exactly the kind of filthy thing she promised to be. And those eyes only draw you in, you're pushing over her, folding her legs further against her body until she's truly helpless. Pinned to the table. Bent in two. No ability, nor want, to stop you from dominating her.
"I'm gonna—" she tries to speak until you press down, right into her. She squeezes your cock inside that tight, creaming hole. Then she whines, loud.
So loud.
Her back would arch high if it could. But she can't break free. You have her completely immobilized with your upper bodyweight. And fuck does she love every second of it. She's got handfuls of her shirt, pulling it, clutching, writhing. Ecstasy courses through her and eyes roll.
And now she's rolling, you're turning her. Ankles in your hands, you have pulled out and you're flipping her onto her front, face down into the table. She’s just… accepting it. Not an ounce of fight in her. Not even a word. Just a throaty moan.
"Be a good girl for me, won’t you?” you’re ordering, “give me your hands.” 
She reaches her arms back over her subdued body and lets you take her delicate wrists.
She submits.
Just lying there prone, her delicate body against the table, with that tight little ass perched on the edge of it, and that skimpy underwear still pushed aside for her throbbing cunt. Those slender legs left hanging either side of you. And go on, you're allowed to think it in the simplest of terms; Minju is sexy. In a word, that's it. Sexy. And yet, the reality is there's so much more you can say. Every soft curve of her toned body is alluring, she is magnetic and inviting, and that cute face peering over her shoulder, long hair spilled all behind it. All the words in the world couldn't do justice to describe her—couldn't properly capture the image.
"What are you going to do to me, daddy?" Oh, she says it so seamlessly, slips it in like it's been on her lips for a while - floating in the atmosphere since you took control. And now that it's finally landed, you feel its weight. It has her voice different; smokey and dripping with sex. And it hits you straight between your legs. 
She licks her lips and tests it out again, just for good measure: "what does daddy think I deserve?" 
One hand holding her wrists against the small of her back, another gripping her hip. Her legs sway lazily, unable to reach the floor. Helplessly dangling, waiting for her fate. And you're not a man to disappoint a girl like Minju.
"I'm going to use the needy little slut in front of me," you say as the head of your stiff cock probes at her cunt, slipping between her wet lips and sliding against her swollen clit. Teasing her. 
You draw it back up again and pushing apart her ass cheeks with the length of your cock. Slipping under the thin fabric of her soaked panties.
She bites her lower lip and whimpers through her teeth. The head of your wet cock slides against her tight asshole, and her hips twitch back. "Whatever you need, take it from me." She means that. There's yearning in every word. The hunger and desire in her voice growing thicker.
You push against her, cock sandwiched between her cheeks, pushing your weight down and pressing her against the table. Her eyes close for a moment, her fingers curl into her palms.
"Yes. Fuck," Minju's desperate encouragement spills through clenched teeth.
You pull back your cock and replace it with your thumb, sliding your hand over her ass and slipping it against her puckered hole.
"Please da—" You slip the tip of your thumb just inside her ass and hold it there while she holds her breath. 
Anticipation— 
Waiting— 
Knowing what's coming next. 
Minju is completely still as you drive your cock into her cunt again. Sinking yourself in so deep—balls deep. Her hands become tight fists and her whole body is shaking. You withdraw and plunge again, and she hisses, breathing from the bottom of her lungs, ragged and shallow, and fighting to speak.
"I'm a dirty, needy, little slut and you’re going to use me—"
You spit at her spread ass, right onto your thumb, and use it to dig a little deeper. "What are you?" your question provokes an instant answer,
"I'm a horny slut. I'm a fuck-hole. That's what I am."
As if it's a reward for her honesty, you fuck her a little harder. Push your thumb a little deeper. She smiles through a howl of ecstasy, the sound swelling into the room.
"Tell me again," you command with another pump of your hips, stretching her even more with your thumb.
Her words crackle, dying in her throat with each impact of your hips, "I'm just a dumb girl who needs to be full of cum."
No sane man would refuse it. Not you, not anyone. Definitely not you at all. You couldn't resist any part of her, but especially not that filthy demand. Especially not with how you felt watching those gorgeous fucking curves ripple every time your hips slapped against her ass.
It's all so easy, how you continue, keeping pace. Thumb deep in her ass. Balls smacking against her soaked pussy with every thrust. It's a pleasure all too overwhelming—a thrill, a sensation, a powerful sense of utter fucking satisfaction and all-consuming desire—an erotic overflow inundates, a swell, an ever-growing crest inside your balls.
"Minju. I'm. Gonna—"
"Cum in me? Please." She's the hallmark of innocence-gone-wrong; the way such words roll off her tongue with playful ease. And she knows all the right ones. The ones that she knows will bring all the right reactions. To speak to you on a primal level. She's at it again, cutting into you, "Inside— Inside me."
Cutting through you like the blade of a knife, right to your core and you obey—fuck.
"Daddy please."
You're incensed.
Dogged with the pounding you're giving her, you have lost control of just how deep you have your thumb in her ass. This is so Indecent. Obscene, even. For you, or for anyone, to just... enjoy something like this. Your body is roaring with lust as her ass and cunt both squeeze on you, clamping you as you drive yourself to the brink.
"I wanna... feel your hot load," her voice comes shaking through the unabated pounding you're inflicting. "Fill me please," she's begging and it sounds a little clearer now, stronger, a little louder, no doubt because she knows it's almost done.
You tug at her wrists, pulling her arms back and her body away from the table. Her head hangs forward beneath a wave of hair. Face covered by sweat streaks across those pretty sculpted features.
"Please, I'll be a good girl and take every drop. All the fucking cum that daddy has. Make me your stupid dirty little slut," she compels, then yelps with every new slam and stroke of the stiff cock being buried into her again and again.
That tight asshole, and that cock-hugging pussy. All the relentless slamming that you have done and will do. All the desires, with the pent-up frustration, the rage and anger and tension that has built up—you release it. Everything goes as you send your load rushing through your cock to paint her insides.
Pushing everything you have in. Pumping. Driving hard.
Her squeals are like music to the soul. Relief and rapture are overflowing. And fuck. What a ride. What a rush. You pump her full until she's gasping for air, struggling in your grasp and making sure to moan each and every dirty word into the atmosphere as she fights to hold on. What a thrill. And as the two of you hit the limits of physical exhaustion and exhilaration, you pull back. Letting the girl lay there, spent, and filled, on the pool table.
Used.
Satisfied.
Sullied.
Minju to you, today, is a feeling of freedom. Fulfilment. Absolution. As she lay limp, arms out, legs hanging, hair draped over her face and pooling on the table—a girl well fucked and on display. She is satisfaction. And she is dripping with your cum.
She slips her fingers under her panties. That shrivelled piece of fabric that clings, or struggles to. Now she pushes them off her hips and they tumble over her feet.
When this beautiful girl speaks her voice has the distinct scratch of someone whose lungs have had the oxygen stolen from them, her throat sore with moaning, "I need more."
She moves to her back and you can only watch in amazement as she turns to you with that flush face. One of her small, delicate hands falling between her legs and her dainty fingers tracing around her cunt—through her pink folds, and dousing them in your leaking cum.
There's a knock at the door. It rattles in the frame. "Open up!" It's the voice of the young man seeking an afternoon drink. You think that, luckily, hopefully, between the blinds, the posters and the neon lights in the windows along with the dim lighting, he can't see in.
"Fuck off!" Minju shouts. Her chest is heaving, and there are the gentle lulls of a giggle welling in her throat.
You notice she hasn't moved the fingers away from her swollen and sticky cunt. There's a building cackle, almost as if she is going to fall into hysterics.
"Let me in! You should be open!"
"I said fuck off!" Minju's climbing from the table with a wild smile on her face. Cum is trailing from her cunt, pooling, oozing, dripping down her thigh, down her leg. Her tongue slides over her lips, she's eying you up like a tiger.
"I want to ride your thick cock." She's breathing the words out heavy and finally pulling that shirt over her head. Small round breasts exposed. Stiff dark nipples. Hard and taught. That bare torso. Tight and tone. Firm and solid. Every muscle defined under glistening, sweaty skin.
She pushes herself against you until you push between a pair of stools and your ass plants against the bar. "You made me a dirty girl, and now I can't stop."
You find her strength a little unnerving, the way seems so unphased and determined. She's running on pure adrenaline. It's hot, sure, a kind of raw passion is certainly not without appeal, but also maybe a touch too overpowering. The way that she grabs at you, a touch forceful, and the way you come together is perhaps too rough and less than elegant.
So unkempt, un-romantic, yet so insanely gratifying as her soft skin finds yours.
You take her body in your arms, lips on one another, exploring mouths with tongues. Grasping the round cheek of her ass as she lifts her left thigh up to your waist. Hand trailing between the two of you and then grabbing a firm hold of your cock, guiding the thing back to her pussy—and not letting go.
This is it. This is where she belongs.
It’s all so natural for her to be on the end of your cock, so much so that she can casually pull away from the kiss to switch her focus to finding a drink on the bar behind you. She’s taking a drink of it now and some of it spills from the corner of her mouth.There is something undignified in that, but utterly perfect nonetheless.
She's grinding against you now, swirling her hips and cooing like a little kitten, as your hands move over her ass and that silken smooth back.
Minju sets the empty glass back down on the bar, and pulls back to meet your eyes. She presses a finger to her tongue, her eyes gleaming and focused solely on you, as she guides a small, playful trail of drool to run over her glistening tits. "Fuck," she breathes through a grin, taking both her hands and smoothing that drool over her chest.
Another knock at the door. Another fist pounded into its frame.
All these fucking interruptions.
"Ugh! Fuck this. Come on, follow me." And before you know it, she's guiding you across the room. "I'm going to ride you until I can't walk. Until I'm so sore that every step will remind me what it felt like to have you deep inside me."
Your phone rings, on the floor in the pocket of your trousers. Who would call right now? Just as one interruption finally concedes at the door, another emerges.
Minju bends to fish it out of your trousers. Her little ass, one cheek marred with a handprint from your grasp, is so close you could bend forward and eat it (any other time, you would.) but it's not that which intrigues you the most. When she rises, slowly, your phone is in her grasp, screen displaying Wonyoung's name.
"This should be fun," Minju chuckles to herself. She swipes the answer button and raises the device to her ear. "Hello?"
Minju reaches out to hold your hand and pulls you toward the staff only door. "Sorry, he's a little busy right now," she says as she walks through the door with you in tow. Her head pivots. Minju stares, eyes boring deep into yours. That sultry expression. The spark of desire igniting all over again.
Minju turns on her heel, letting you go and taking a step back. Thin fingers stroke over her cum-soaked thigh, up and along her wet lips, higher and past her flat stomach, sliding between her firm tits. "He is really busy."
She points at the couch in the break room, gesturing you to sit. You oblige, a little nervous about the turn of events. She's rubbing at her perky little tits as she speaks, "do you want me to take a message?"
"Minju..." you say with warning, ready to take the phone off her. But it's so hard to ignore how utterly sexy she is, and your hand starts to stroke along your shaft. She turns her body and poses, looking over her shoulder to you, and she grins. Minju affords you all the time you need to admire her while she listens to the ramblings of Wonyoung through your phone.
Minju steps toward you, looking down at you. "You need to speak to him?" She rests a hand on your shoulder, and then she clambers over you, straddles you. Her leaking cunt right above your cock. She licks her lips and rubs her slick pussy over your stiff dick, eyes focused on you, head tilted down. "Give me one second."
She holds the phone against her collar and shifts above you, resting the tip of your cock against her hole.
"Minju, let me—"
She sinks onto your cock. 
Inch by pleasurable inch, she takes you. Minju rocks forward and adjusts to settle on the length of your rod. Fully hilted and stuffed. She's a slick sheath of velvet on your stiff rod and you realise then just how perfectly she fits on you. You bite your tongue, trying to not make a noise so you don't alert the woman on the other end of the phone. Minju, however, is careless, and she lets out a soft moan as she shifts on you, readying herself.
Cum still seeps out of her cunt and down your shaft—your own and hers in some messy cocktail. The smell is sharp but unmistakable. It hangs in the air as the unmistakable evidence of what has happened and what will happen again. It’s so potent; invigorating and exciting. A reminder of everything and more, as if you would ever forget it—as if you could ever forget what she has become for you.
Minju draws the phone back to her face and, with a cocky smirk parting her lips, she speaks again, her voice breathy and full of lust. 
"He's in a bit of a tight spot right now." She throws you a wink and continues, "give him ten—wait, no—give him fifteen minutes and whatever is left of him is all yours."
There's the sound of a voice coming through the phone, so unmistakably Wonyoung's but you can't make a word of it out. There's another sound, one much dirtier, that fills the air between the two of you. The soft squelching as Minju rocks and rotates those full hips on you.
"Sorry, what was that?" Minju is stifling a giggle and not-really trying to keep the naughtiness of the situation in check. "Yeah, Wonyoung,you’re right. It's me, Minju," she purrs, biting her lip as her eyes fix on you. Then her tongue flits from her lips, sweeping from left to right.
‘It's me, Minju.’
Look, it’s not really a surprise that they know each other well. It was always a possibility that Minju had just heard of Wonyoung but had never really been acquainted. Thinking back, however, the strength of her reaction to the girl’s name should have told you everything. The truth is now ever so clear. 
Not that Minju is going to let you process it. She will not allow you to focus on anything other than the caress of her pussy over your sensitive cock. She's elegant with the movements of her hips—the motions subtle and slow. Her pace is sinful. She's running her tongue over her teeth and staring at you, enjoying the quiet grunts that rattle from your throat.
"He showed up in—" Her breath hitches and she catches a moan in her throat before it escapes. "In the bar, drinking alone."
There's a gasp, then another as she strokes her hands through the locks of your hair. "Yeah. He was doing that." She's laughing under her breath and looking you up and down. "That thing with his hand, yeah, it's cute."
“What? No. I wouldn’t.” You’re getting half a conversation and none of it makes any sense.
She reaches out her hand to the side of your face, thumb brushing the line of your jaw and her body leaning in. "He's got a sexy jaw line," she admits and then picks up the speed of her movement. 
Her hand slides down your neck and presses into your collar. "His body?" Minju hums as her hips are churning; her body is rolling and her abs are flexing. "Yeah, I think so too."
Minju's back arches and her tiny tits bounce as her movement changes, bouncing rhythmically on your cock. She's adjusting and getting more comfortable on you. As the seconds pass, she's getting rougher and moving ever faster. 
Fuck.
"Well, he's drunk, so it's no surprise."
It's been no end of strange situations over the past couple of months, but this may well be the strangest yet. The girls are having a friendly conversation, but one is on top of a cock that's dripping with her mess.You're still trying to piece it together. They're friends—that much is clear. But there's still so many questions unasked: How? Since when? And why are they having their catch up right fucking now?
Her delicate frame moves fast now and the rise and fall of her chest growing sharper leading to short breaths.
"Mhm," she utters, keeping her voice low and words at a premium. "N—No we aren't." To give her credit, she's actually very good at sounding natural. In some twisted way, it's one hell of an audition for how talented of actress she can actually be. 
But that image comes crumbling down before your eyes.
Just for a moment, the picture freezes. Her mouth is half-open, eyes wide. She bites down on her lip, silencing herself, and then she drops her hand from her ear. She's hitting her fist, clenched around the phone, against her thigh repeatedly as she fights against her own body. There's another choked grunt as she is being pushed ever so close to the edge.
She draws the phone to her face again, breathing in deep and staring at you with those glossy eyes scanning all across your body, and she swallows. 
"We aren't fucking," Minju denies, as your hands creep up from her slender thighs, sliding over those beautiful taut hips, gripping tight and helping pull her back and forth. It's clear, from the way she bites down on her bottom lip, the subtle trembling of her chin, she's hanging on by a thread, ready to lose it at any second.
"No. Don't—" Minju holds the phone out, and she’s looking at it—you can see it too—Wonyoung has just ended the call. "Ah fuck it." Minju throws the phone down on the couch.
She looks at you with a face that's a little lost in thought, considering things unknown to you. All while her body is on auto-pilot, still fucking down onto you. 
After a moment, her face changes, an expression of indifference, of calmness. She smiles a little and rests both of her hands on your shoulders. Staring deep into your eyes, she grows ever more serious with a tinge of intent. She shifts from auto-pilot to manual, tightening the grip with her legs and slowing the pace, but fucking you harder.
Minju rides the ridge of your cock. Your whole length is dragged up and down her insides, setting every inch of you on fire. She moans every time she slams onto you. 
Every time. 
She's falling further apart in front of you—coming completely undone. Eyes rolling and biting that lip again. Hips shifting in all kinds of directions. A cacophony of beautiful grunting sounds that flood the room.
Minju is a woman derailed by pleasure.
"God. Your cock— Your cock is—" She's struggling now and you're only going to make it worse. Using the hands on her hips, you buck yourself up into her, bringing yourself a fraction closer each time. 
"The things this cock— the things you— fuck." Minju has no power to string any kind of sentences together, no matter how many words you force from her. They grow less and less like words you can understand until all that remains are these loud and unashamed gasps. 
Gasp after sharp and unstoppable gasp.
The rush of exhilaration courses through her, from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. She feels it. All over. It's written on her face, in the way that she moves and in the look in her eyes. A look like that is a hard thing to fake, even for her—there's nothing else like it. Minju is cumming all over your cock and every bit of it is evident in every tense muscle, the quiver in the corner of her mouth, the sheen across her brow, the mist in her eyes as she blinks lazily and tries not to be overcome, overawed, with emotion and all the intense sensations, one wave after another, rippling through her.
You're just about there again too. You try to warn her, but you're fucking up into her with so much energy that you're not sure if the words ever left your mouth. But she knows it, somehow, because she has renewed aggression in her. Even through her orgasm, she's bouncing on your cock with such ferocity. Minju takes hold of your head and draws you into her. Nose to nose. Foreheads touch. "Cum in me again."
They're four of the best words she could have said.
She rides you faster still as you pump rope after hot rope into her cunt, your entire length filling her already overflowing cunt. You cum so hard inside her that the world seems to distort, twist, and wane.
"Yes! Yes!" she shouts in a whisper—her voice stolen by pleasure. "Fill my little pussy."
And with every last ounce of strength you have, you continue. Bucking into her, driving deeper with the last throes of your second load. It's too much. It's beyond pleasure and into pain now, as you have nothing left to give her.
You squeeze at her hips and waist, holding her down and doing everything you can to stop her fucking you.
You're panting. Tired. Done.
Done.
Minju raises herself just enough to slip that ruined and swollen cockhead from the depth of her. You watch as your combined fluids flow out of her onto your leg.
All that filth, a dirty combination of the two of you. Two loads of your cum drained into that one pretty pussy.
Minju is stroking a hand up your stomach, your chest, along your neck and jawline. Across your face and to your chin, so slowly, as if memorising your features.
You watch her body, so fucking perfect, flexing and trembling still and her breasts heave beneath sweat and exertion. Her breath is so ragged that a chuckle emerges between the hard, deep inhales and exhales. She's sweating, perspiration painting her body and strands of long hair matted to her head. So beautiful. Always so fucking beautiful.
She looks into your eyes, studying, thinking. "You feel better now," her voice has returned to the softness of before, low and sultry. "Don't you?"
With a smile, your hands move again, wandering further up. They snake their way around her slender waist. There's something strange, something new, about how they explore her—before, you were quick to set them and demand control. But not now. Now, it's tender and grateful and you have a slow, searching rhythm to the touches that skim the skin across her skin. 
"Yeah." It's honest. You do. She has done her magic, she has restored the balance, and the release has cleared a space within the self, within the mind. You stare back into her gaze, "thank you."
"No." Minju brings her head forward, her face almost colliding with yours. "Thank you. This is exactly what I needed, I really—" She bites down on her lips and hesitates. She pauses for a second before she begins to move herself off you. Standing up straight, wobbling for a moment on the spot before stepping off and the sticky remains of your fucking cling to her inner thighs, glistening on the flesh, thick and trailing down from her hole.
She stares at you for a moment in some profound silence. You sit on the couch, on that musty old fabric, fully spent and staring. She's searching for something, eyes drifting over the room until it catches her eye, and she heads right for it.
You find the strength to stand and as you do, you’re still watching the sway of her body—noticing each bounce of her perfectly formed butt. Your eyes linger, appreciating the body that was given to you, enjoyed by you, and that gave so much to you. Your strength slowly builds from within, your legs are sore, your stomach and core are aching, your lungs feel crushed.
She's fumbling around on the table for something, she's leaning over slightly, her thighs pressed together. She wears sex like a crown—the pride, confidence, and accomplishment manifesting in her natural glow. Minju radiates. There's always something so electric about a woman in the post coital haze.
"You smoke?" she asks.
"No."
"You should," she says as she turns, fishing one out of the pack and perching herself on the edge of the table, crossing over her legs. "Makes you less nervous. You might need it."
There's an elegance in the way she slips the filter between her lips. An attractiveness in the casual way that she places the box down. With practiced poise, she flicks her wrist with lighter in hand so it flips open and her thumb runs against the sparkwheel. Once, twice, and on the third go the light takes and the flame holds steady. Minju lights the end of the cigarette and leans in, taking a deep draw and holding it.
It's mesmerising to watch. The way her mouth closes around the stick, how the soft glow dances upon her features. A darkness in the hollows of her cheeks as the smoke fills within, while she flicks the lighter back closed and slides it on the table.
Minju tilts her head back as her lungs empty, billows and tendrils escape into the room.
In the silence, you've had some realisation.
Minju is cool.
Like— really cool.
So you stand naked, facing her, in the breakroom of the bar she... works in? Owns? Hell, you don't even know that. Doesn't matter. And you finally ask her, "how do you know Wonyoung?"
For a long moment she just smiles, blowing smoke towards you, teasing with silence.
"We go way back," she says, and that is hardly the complete answer that you've hoped for. 
Eventually, she offers more. "High school. We were friends." Minju studies the cigarette, eyeing the burning stub. "Guess you could say we were closer than that. Fuck. If not for—"
Silence.
And yet you wait.
"Well, there was this boy," she continues eventually, offering a soft and resigned smile. "My crush, and then my boyfriend. He was my first. First kiss, first date. First—" Minju looks over to the wall and inhales hard on the cigarette again. She breathes in slowly and you watch the small ember dance, the edges turning amber and glowing bright before she brings the cigarette down and flicks ash in the tray.
"What happened?" you ask, taking a seat alongside her on the table, pushing a cup aside to make space. It's not exactly hygienic, but nothing the two of you just did was.
"Wonyoung happened. Right before we left school, he left me for her and he thought he had a chance, but, well, you know Wonyoung. She's unattainable."
"You blame her?"
"Fuck no. But it didn't exactly bring us closer. He left me for her, she rejected him. What a mess."
There is always something when Wonyoung is in the picture, a messy little tangled web, something hidden behind those silky smiles. She's the reason for many lost loves and many lonely nights. You take a pause to appreciate that fact—to see what's really at the core. She’s the common denominator. Wonyoung—the arrogant heartbreaker.
"So what was all that about? On the phone?" you ask, trying to make some sense of it all.
Minju laughs aloud, tilting her head back and blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. She holds her cigarette between her slim fingers and rests her other hand on your thigh. "I wanted to play with her a little. I wanted her to know. Because well, and no offense, but you’re one of her possessions. She basically owns you. Don't get me wrong, it's kinda hot, but I wanted to see how she would react."
"So you teased her."
"Pretty much."
She laughs a little. There is some spark in her eye, born out of childish fun.
"Don't think she cares," you shrug.
You both turn toward the door that leads back into the bar. You both heard it. Out there. The knock against the front door of the bar.
Minju turns to you, crushing her cigarette into the ashtray beside her. There's a smirk on her lips and amusement in her eyes. In that look alone, there's a lot to unpack; there's an air of knowing, a glimmer of deviousness, and something else lurking beneath the surface.
"Then why is she knocking on the door?"
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clementinegreye · 1 month
Text
the sweetest sin of all
aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader ||
summary: in the midst of investigating a serial killer who chooses victims based on the seven deadly sins, aaron hotchner finds himself entangled in more than just the case (inspired by hozier's new song 'too sweet'):
word count: 3.4k
warnings: heavy tension, hurt comfort, crossing professional boundaries and general talks of CM violence and murder (nothing graphic):
a/n: hi! i wrote this entire thing for a friend, but maybe you might enjoy it too! this is my first piece of writing on this new blog so if you like feel free to like, reblog or even just let me know! and hopefully if it goes well there'll be more soon!
a/n update: it went well, here's part two!)
From the dim lighting of the office it was almost impossible to tell the exact lateness of the night. His watch consistently ticking, remained a steady rhythm. He ran a hand across his face, his tie undone and lying, long discarded on his desk. The first few buttons of his shirt undone, unbuttoned and an almost vulnerable step away from his usual armour. Papers containing violence were spread haphazardly and with chaos across his desk. A nearly forgotten glass of strong neat whiskey sat in place of his usual bitter coffee.
His team had been on the case for nearly a week, and Hotch felt they were no closer to catching the Unsub. The whole team was feeling the pressure. The profile told him they were dealing with a moral enforcer, a highly organised, violent offender with a clear mission. It should have been easy for them but bodies seemed to be continuously appearing and everyone was feeling uneasy and frustrated.
He was drowning in the details of this case, the Unsub's pattern ever-present in his mind. He thought of the remaining sins - envy, wrath, and lust - and something burned deep within his chest. It was a dangerous game they played, one where the stakes were higher than any case he'd ever worked on.
Being head of the team he felt the responsibility more vehemently than the rest, and he was doing something he’d promised the team he wouldn’t. He was letting it get to him.
There’d been four victims so far, each killed to match one of the seven deadly sins. So far his victims had been; gluttony - an overzealous upscale restaurant critic who binged food that he slated publicly, greed - a high-profile stock broker with the inability to control his obsession with obtaining more of his client's money, sloth - a wealthy trust fund baby who squandered their university scholarship out of laziness and pride - a wealthy woman with a shopping addiction who frequented beauty salons and had an intense social media presence flaunting herself.
Each victim came from a different geographical area of the city and Garcia hadn’t been able to uncover any crossover between their lives where it might have been somewhere they could have met the Unsub. There were no leads and the team felt at a loss. 
Knowing the Unsub was three victims away from the end of his mission, Hotch knew they were close to losing him if they didn’t catch a break soon. He’d sent the team home to get some sleep and told them to be ready bright and early the next day. Yet Hotch couldn't bring himself to leave the office, hoping the crime scene photos might uncover something he'd missed. He thought everyone had listened to his orders until he was drawn away from the graphic images in front of him by a gentle knock at the door.
"Come in." He croaked harshly, the hours of not speaking catching up to his vocal chords.
It was her. Of course, it was her.
She always had a way of pulling him from the edge, of grounding him when the world became too much. In the chaos and uncertainty of their work, she was his constant, his unwavering beacon of light. She was his solace, his calm in the storm, and in that moment, he allowed himself to get lost in her.
She was like honey, dripping out and pooling where flies could get stuck on the intoxication and drown. He could feel it, the danger she could be. If he’d been a man less controlled he could see how she could be his every downfall and triumph. In her, he saw a reflection of all his desires and fears. She was every strength and weakness. In the moment, he couldn't help but want to drown in the intoxicating allure of her, his deadly and dangerous, yet irresistibly sweet sin.
‘I’m heading home for the night…’ Her voice trailed off in a quiet hush to match the silence of the office. 
The creases in his forehead from pouring over crime scenes and endless theories seemed to smooth out. He breathed out hours' worth of tension in a single breath, allowing the corners of his mouth to turn upwards so quickly that unless she’d been a profiler paying attention she might not have noticed. The way his body language shifted was subtle enough to the untrained eye, but not to her. He couldn’t conceal himself in his controlled, cold-edged front as well as he usually could when she was around.
"I gave those orders hours ago." He mused, leaning back in his chair, the breath of a sigh dying on his lips.
She gently shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her. "I thought you might be used to me defying your orders by now, Hotch. You should take your own advice, didn’t you promise to stop working so late," she replied, a glint in her eyes that held an irresistible challenge. Their playful banter was a welcome change from the dark seriousness that he’d been so consumed by moments ago.
She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief waiting for his retort.
"I didn’t promise anything." He huffed.
She didn’t wait for an invitation, she didn’t need to. Crossing the threshold of his office and making her way to the imposing desk of the Unit Chief.
She’d not seen her boss look so troubled by a case in a long time. Her gaze was drawn to him as his elbows leaned against the desk, his usually impeccable suit dishevelled. She noted the way the top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a hint of the man beneath the stoic FBI Unit Chief. It was a stark contrast to the man who was always put together, always in control. Yet, in that moment, he looked anything but. Not yet unravelled, but on the edge of it.
She moved further into the office, she was not someone who second-guessed her decisions. She walked with confidence, and perched herself on the edge of his desk, letting her legs dangle over the edge her black work trousers tight across her thighs. She rested her hand on the desk, dangerously close to her Hotch’s, mere centimetres.
His gaze shifted from the papers in front of him and followed the contours of her face, lingering a moment too long on her lips. He swallowed hard, his mind flickering with thoughts he'd held at bay for far too long. But he was Unit Chief, and professionalism might as well have been his middle name. He lightly shook his head, feeling the back of his eyes burn from the focus he’d had all day.
Hotch wasn’t one to open up, he was always controlled but around her, there was a tug at the stitches of his personality.
‘I have a bad feeling about this case.’ He hummed, the night breeze catching against the window. He could smell her perfume, mixing with the scent of burnt coffee and paper. He dare not think about it too long.
He reached across his desk and grabbed his near-forgotten whiskey, downing it in one drag. He bent towards where her legs were hanging over his desk, motioning for her to lift them. She drew them up towards her chest and he opened the drawer beneath her pulling an expensive-looking bottle from it and refilling the glass, this time handing it to her. Their fingers grazed slightly with the exchange. His warm, hers icy cold - meeting to form the perfect temperature.
‘We have no leads. I always trust the profile, but this case… We’ve got nothing.’ His eyes watched her as she swirled the liquid around the glass, her eyes watching it splash against the sides. He sighed in defeat, rubbing his eyes with both of his hands before leaning his head back, a deep exhale exiting his thin lips.
‘We’ll get him.’ She said confidently, something shifted in her tone. It was like a dagger's sharp edge, certainty dripping off it like blood. He almost believed her, but she could see the already dim light dissipating from his dark eyes. She felt sympathy pooling in the tips of her fingers. If she didn’t hadn’t been holding their shared glass she might have reached out and touched him so that it could bleed from her into him, so that he would feel less alone.
She leaned back slightly, her eyes searching his. It was unclear what she was searching for in them. He couldn’t read her entirely, even with all his years of profiling. When she smiled, he felt his heart catch in his throat. It was like looking directly at the sun. Burning and bright hot.
‘You should follow your own orders… And for once so should I. Go home. Get some rest.’ She downed the liquid with a swift tip of her head. Hotch watched the curve of her neck as she moved and the way she licked her lips catching a fallen drop of liquor. She laid the glass down on the desk, allowing her hand to brush over his. His skin crackled with electricity.
She moved with grace as she climbed down from his desk. That one moment shared more intimate than she’d expected it to feel, with their proximity, the lateness of the hour and the unusually undone Aaron sitting at his desk.
His eyes followed her every movement, skin stinging as if he’d been burned. She was halfway to the door before he heard himself call out to her. It almost didn’t sound like his own voice.
‘Wait. Don’t go yet. Come here.’ His voice was firm like it always was, but there was a depth to it that she hadn’t heard before. One she’d always longed for. His eyes glinted with dark hues as he watched her turn from the door. He almost breathed out in relief.
She had an unreadable expression. One that set the blood in his veins on fire. She lowered her head, and with it, her eyes darkened. He stood from his desk, making his way over to her with steps that felt dreamlike. Their eyes met with an energy never shared before and once in front of her he reached out, gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear so that he had an unobscured view of her whole face. The same face that had the power to completely undo him.
Her eyes widened slightly as if surprised by his gentle touch, but at the same time, there was a knowing in them as if she’d been waiting for it all along. She remained still, and his heart pounded in his chest as he looked into his eyes, an unspoken conversation passing between them. It felt like any words would have made the moment less intimate.
His hand lingered against her cheek, the warmth radiating from his touch was a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environment of his office. Her skin felt like it was burning under him. The silence between them was palpable, filled with the yet unspoken words and emotions that threatened to bubble to the surface. Hotch, usually so controlled in his feelings suddenly felt so unsteady. His heart beat suspiciously with the feeling that perhaps he’d crossed a line.
‘How do you know?’ He whispered, eyes scanning hers as if he were a detective trying to uncover the evidence that gave her certainty. In the light of the office, she looked like she’d been hand carved, art that he’d been lucky enough to be in the presence of. He traced his thumb over her lips, eyes heavy with a mixture of desire and something else she couldn't quite place. It was a dangerous gesture, one that could endanger his whole career.
'I trust you, and that’s all I need to know that we’ll get him.' she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes glazed with a devotion that almost made him groan. The conviction of her words pierced his wavering confidence. He’d gone from feeling almost hopeless to buzzing with determination.
He let his hand fall away from her face, but the warmth lingered, an almost promise that what she’d been sure she’d felt moments ago had indeed been real. Reality swarmed his brain, aware of the situation he’d almost found himself in. He straightened up, posture contrasting his relatively dishevelled exterior.
"You’re right, you should follow my orders. Go home, get some rest. I told the team we’d start fresh in the morning," he instructed, a softness in his voice that was rarely displayed. But she didn’t move, and he didn’t either.
He watched her eyes for any sign of discomfort, the tension in the room was palpable, an electrifying current that Hotch didn’t dare to break. Silence blanketed them, only broken by the ticking of his watch. It was a solitary reminder of the passing time, yet the urgency of their case had fallen to the back of his mind.
‘Close the door.’ She instructed, using the same authority that Hotch usually spoke with. The change in dynamic almost made him falter, but with a small smirk, he moved towards the door. He’d been aware of the power imbalance he held in his position but with the tone of her voice, there was a subtle shift in the air between them. She moved back towards his desk with certainty. Moving his name tag so she could perch to face the dark space of the office.
Their eyes met across the room. She tilted her head to the side, examining his body language. As he locked the door behind him, the air seemed to constrict around them, the room becoming a world of its own where only they existed. The only sound in the room was the soft click of the lock and their breathing. It echoed throughout the office, bouncing off the walls and settling into their bones. The tension escalated, but it was different now, charged with an anticipation that neither of them could ignore.
He might have been unit chief, but right here, right now, she was in charge. The line between professional and personal blurred dangerously as their eyes locked, a promise of something more hanging in the balance. The air was charged now, they were poised, daring each other to make the first move. They both knew that they were on the precipice of something dangerous, something that could have dire consequences professionally.
Yet, the pull was too strong to ignore, and for the first time, Hotch allowed himself to teeter on the edge, his resolve tested by the powerful undercurrent of desire that crackled between them. Tonight, they were not just colleagues, they were two individuals drawn together by an irresistible force. In the room, the undeniable chemistry that had been simmering under the surface for far too long had nowhere to hide.
On the desk, she rested each hand palm down to the side of her thighs and opened her legs wider to create space for his body to fit. She moved her head in a motion for him to step forward. Hotch couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, pupils were blown wide from more than just the darkness of the room. How long had he craved something so forbidden, how long had he denied himself the idea that this could ever happen?
As he moved closer to her, he couldn't help but think about the deadly sin of lust, a strong passion or longing that was deemed sinful. Here he was, teetering on the edge of crossing professional boundaries, something he’d never done. The balance of energy in the room was no longer solely from the stress of the case, it was about them - about her. He could have tried to argue that it was, but no jury in the state would believe him. If this were a trial, he was about to be found guilty.
The Unsub's deadly pattern echoed in his mind - the three sins he’d yet to kill for; envy, jealousy over another's life or possessions, wrath, a violent anger driven by hatred, and finally, lust, a powerful desire that can become all-consuming, much like the craving he was experiencing in that very moment. Looking upon her he felt envious of anyone who had ever been allowed to touch her, he felt wrath for anyone who had ever wronged or hurt her, and most of all he felt lust. He definitely felt lust, his desire for her taking over all his senses.
Was he caught between duty and desire? No, he had no doubt in his mind. The sheer intensity of her shared gaze and the way she was beckoning him forward smashed the boundaries of their relationship. He’d never seen her in this light, never dared to allow himself to think of her like this. But now she was in front of him how could he ever deny himself something so sweet?
Hotch had always been a man of control, a man who kept his emotions in check. But in this room, with the charged atmosphere heavy between them, he felt his resolve wavering. He was caught in the powerful current of the desire for her that he’d managed to keep at bay. He didn’t want to be in control anymore. 
He closed the distance between them, fitting himself between her legs, his hands landing on her hips as he looked down at her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
She brought one hand off the desk to hold the waistband of his suit trousers, tugging lightly.
“Are you finally going to kiss me, Agent Hotchner?” She asked, voice dripping with honey. Sweetness laced with danger that hit him right in the chest like a bullet.
She was an intoxicating mix of all seven, a deadly sin in her own right. She was his lust, his unending desire. She was his gluttony, the one he wanted to consume endlessly. She was his greed, the one he wanted all for himself. She was his sloth, his reason for inertia. She was his wrath, the one who could ignite a fire in him like no other. She was his envy, the one he admired and coveted. And she was his pride, the one who made him feel like he was on top of the world.
‘You will be the ruin of me.’ He breathed, his eyes almost black. He looked down at her taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and the way her eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief and satisfaction. He was entirely wrapped around her finger. Tonight, he decided, he would willingly drown in this sweet sin, consequences be damned.
‘That is entirely my intention.’ She chuckled and he groaned, a guttural sound that felt foreign to him.
"Only if you promise not to tell the team," he murmured, a playful undertone to his voice.
As he leaned down to capture her lips with his, he knew without a doubt that this was a deadly sin he was willing to commit. It was both sweet and intense, a perfect reflection of their now complicated relationship.
Her lips tasted of the whiskey they'd shared, sweet with a hint of burn that left him wanting more. She tasted like a curse, sickeningly sweet as if to cause him decay. He deepened the kiss, pulling her impossibly closer. He was standing on the cliff of the unknown, and he was more than willing to jump and fall headfirst.
As he pulled away, he couldn't help but study her face. He’d come face to face with endless serial killers, and been in the presence of pure evil. But he’d never been so close to something so dangerous. She was a temptation he couldn't resist. Sweeter than any apple in the Garden of Eden. He traced the contours of her face with his fingers, his gaze never leaving hers.
He could still taste her on the back of his tongue, sugar and shared whiskey burning. He’d never been so certain that he’d been willing to trade his control for the intoxicating sweetness that was her. She was a forbidden fruit that was too alluring to resist, and Aaron Hotchner had no more resistance left in him. Not now he’d tasted something so delicious.
After all, wasn't life about balancing the deadly sins and virtues? Tonight, he chose to sin.
(you can now read part two here!)
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zombiecheri · 5 months
Text
A Girl And A Samurai
pairing: mizu x fem!reader
tags: slight dubcon?, reader is drunk, mizu is a bit tipsy, thigh riding, fingering, mizu does a knee thing, grinding, neck kisses, neck bites, teasing, fluff
A/N: here's the second part finally! It's nsfw as you can tell from the tags so 18+ please. Hope you enjoy. It will have one more chapter after this.
chapter 1
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Chapter 2
On the fifth day you both found a small inn and decided to stay overnight instead of spending yet another night shivering out in the woods by the small campfire. You told her you'd cover the cost and mizu nodded, leaving you standing in the middle of an inn as she sat down on an empty spot ordering soba and glancing in your direction with a questioning look. You shook your head and went up the stairs to your shared room not feeling hungry.
That's how you ended up sitting on a tatami with a bottle of sake in front of you as you took sips from the cup trying to run away from your own thoughts.
From that day where you got to know her name, you two got closer and the more you got to know her more your mind started drifting away noticing small details about her that made your head heavy with thoughts and heart full of feelings that you were scared to address.
The way her eyes softened whenever she shared memories about her swordfather, bits and pieces from her childhood, her deep, raspy voice that send chills down your spine and how surprisingly kind she was despite her somewhat fearsome appearance.
And those lips, that slight curve at the edge of her mouth and mirth in her ocean eyes whenever you shared some silly memory from your past made you go weak in the knees, made your face red and left you a stuttering mess.
So you drank. Downed a cup and then another and another to forget it. Forget the feelings that weren't supposed to be there. Drowning in sake until you couldn't think at all.
She found you like that after she returned in the room with nearly half the bottle empty and you sitting on the bed not meeting her eyes choosing to look down at the floor instead.
Mizu wasn't a fool, she noticed the way you were looking at her, noticed how easily you got flustered everytime she smiled at you and despite herself she grew interested. Intrigued at the possibility of what lay underneath that kind appearance and charming smile. You were somewhat of a puzzle and she realized she wanted to solve it, to understand you better. As easy as it was to fluster you, you carried yourself with such dignity she hadn't seen in other women before. At least not in women of your status. It was mindless, carrying yourself in such manner in a place like this where any men could easily take advantage of you at any given moment but even despite that, she was curious.
She decided to push your buttons a little bit to sate that curiosity. Or maybe she was just bored. Either way, there wasn't much to do on a road so she'd try to pass time to see how much she could tease you and it seemed that you've finally reached your limit at last.
"Where did you get that bottle?" Her ocean eyes narrowed at the half empty bottle before settling on your form, eyebrow raising in question.
Mizu's words shook you out of your trance and you finally looked at her, eyes following her as she sat down on a chair in front of you.
"I had it with me" your voice was surprisingly steady considering how much you've drank but fortunately, or not in your case, you could handle the alcohol quite well so it didn't manage to get you as drunk as you'd hoped. More like, she interrupted you before you could do it.
Your plans to drown your feelings with alcohol didn't work out. She was right in front of you and there was nowhere to run - from your thoughts or from her. Not that you hoped you could outrun her at all. Nowhere to go, nowhere else to stay. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to drink on the road but it was too late to dwell on that, you supposed.
You let out a sigh and tried to stand up and stumbled the world spinning around but before you could fall mizu's hands were on you firmly holding you in place.
Perhaps you did manage to get drunk after all, you wondered as the world continued to dance and spin and twirl. You felt like you were spinning along with it.
You didn't want to look up, you couldn't, but she didn't let go and curiosity won so you peaked a glance behind your lashes and instantly regretted it.
Mizu was looking down at you with that familiar curve at the edge of her mouth and amused glint in her icy blue eyes and you understood in that moment why she hid them behind the tinted glasses all the time (besides hiding her obvious mixed heritage). Her eyes were so expressive and you were going to drown in them.
No, you were already drowning. You couldn't breathe, couldn't blink as the world continued twisting and her face was so close.
When did she get so close?
Her breath smelled faintly of alcohol and it seemed you weren't the only one who was drinking. Maybe, some distant parts of your mind wondered, she was also running away from something. Or someone.
Ah, your thoughts were wandering off again and her face was getting blurry. You blinked and let out a breath you were holding in, then you leaned forward. Mizu's eyes were so pretty you could get lost in them forever. Her eyes widened a bit and the hand holding you, let go. You didn't like it so did something unthinkable, something that if you were sober you'd probably have regretted doing.
You reached for her. Your fingers traced the soft skin of her cheek, feeling the warmth of her breath against your skin. You saw her eyes narrowing in suspicion? Or something else, you couldn't tell at the moment.
"what are you do-"
Before she could finish the sentence your lips were on hers, soft and warm against her rough mouth. And it seemed that world finally stopped spinning.
Kiss didn't even last few seconds before she was pulling away - from your soft mouth, your wandering hands and from you.
Regret suddenly crashed into you like a wave, settling uncomfortably in your stomach and you tried to think of something to make her stay, to not turn her back on you and leave you in this inn. Would one kiss make her run away? Probably not, but you couldn't face the shame and embarrassment of that, couldn't face her after she rejected your advances so blatantly. What could you say to make you feel less like a mess? Sorry I thought you wanted to kiss me? Sorry, I misunderstood the situation? Sorry, I was drunk?
stupid girl
You couldn't even look at her but before your drunken mind could come up with an explanation her hand was on your wrist. Mizu's warm fingers were holding you tightly and suddenly you were the one pulling away. You didn't understand.
You didn't..
And in the next moment, she was pulling you closer, into her arms, into her warmth, her lips against yours and time seemed to stop at once.
Your pulse panicked, stuttering to a halt and tried and tried to start again. Heart was beating against your ribcage with such ferocity your mind felt dazed.
While your kiss was soft and tender, a slight touch of lips, a whisper - hers was bruising, demanding, almost as if she tried to devour you. It was not a warm kiss. It was all-consuming. A warm breeze against a ranging storm if you were to compare.
Mizu swallowed your gasp and the next one and licked her tongue inside your mouth that sent a pulse through you forming a knot in the lower part of your stomach.
You got lost in the taste of her, her smell and the feel of her hand on your waist. She made a sound then, not a gasp but not a groan either, mix of a two perhaps and that noise did something. You chanted her name against her lips as you tangled your hands in mizu's kimono trying to steady yourself on your shaky legs, pulling her closer and closer until there was not a space left between you, until you were molded together like a statue and you felt like you were being pulled underwater and searing up high in the sky all at once.
You weren't unfamiliar with the heat and lust and your hands between your legs easing that tension, that burning need, reaching the high and left shaking and satisfied afterwards, but you had never experienced it to the extreme, to this extent, to the point where you couldn't breathe.
You remembered then. To breathe.
You pulled away and took a deep breath to dive right back in, kissing back just as hard, hands clutching the kimono so tightly as if she'd disappear if you let go. You didn't know what it was to be kissed like that.
Mizu was spinning you around then, your back against her front, her knee coming up between your legs and making you gasp. Her hands were traveling up your body, warm fingers tracing the patterns on your kimono before sliding inside and finding your breasts.
You let out another gasp, legs shaky as her fingers brushed against your hardened nipples, her knee keeping you steady and suddenly Mizu was turning you around again taking few steps back dropping down on the chair and pulling you down, on her.
Your legs parted, your kimono loose and you sat on her thigh as she continued to devour your mouth in a franzy and then moved lower. To your cheekbones, to your neck. Found a pulse point there and bit down and you let out a choked moan head falling limply against her shoulder.
She smiled against your skin and shifted her leg the motion making her thigh brush against the spot that got your head spinning. You suddenly felt shy. Your head buried in her shoulder hiding your flaming cheeks and muffling your gasps and moans.
"you okay there?" Mizu chuckled, but she wasn't as unaffected as she tried to seem. Even in your drunken state you could hear the slight edge to her raspy voice, feel the light tremble of her long, slender fingers wandering on your body freely.
The voice did something to you still, lightening up whatever nerve center controlled your body and not your mind and heat pooled between your legs and became nearly unbearable so you grinded down hard on her thigh and felt her wandering hands against your waist coming to a halt.
You didn't feel shy anymore. You felt starved, desperate. You wanted more.
you needed more
She let out a startled sound and you swallowed it and then another and suddenly roles were reversed. You were the one reaching for her, hands roaming on her body, sliding under her loose kimono feeling the bindings wrapped around her chest. You continued grinding down and the tension raised. Your mouth found hers again locking in a hungry kiss battling for dominance as her frozen hands finally slid down your body, her fingers brushing against your bare thighs and stopping there. Teasing.
"Mizu" you let out a desperate huff, meeting her eyes and she laughed, her knee raising intentionally to brush against your damp spot not quite enough to sate the lust but enough to make you crave more.
Your lips found her neck and you were biting down hard making her laugh get stuck in the throat until it turned into a strangled moan as you sucked and licked, her hand gripping your waist almost painfully, but you didn't really mind. If anything, it made you crave her more.
Mizu stopped teasing you then, her fingers running up and up on your thigh until they found the dampness, pushing the fabric away and sliding inside your heat without warning.
"fucking brat" she sighed in your ear and the world was starting to shift and crack again as she continued pumping her trembling fingers.
in and out, in and out
In a steady rhythm, sliding as deep inside as she could reach before pulling them almost completely out of you, occasionally rubbing against your clit and the tightness was growing and you were going to..
you were going to-
Her voice, her smell, her breath against your skin, her words. You were overwhelmed, your head was spinning, your eyes were losing focus. Something about the way she said it, something about that tone, that deep and raspy sound...
Then you were spiralling.
Your body jerked and you grabbed her for support as the feeling wracked through you, hands trembling, your eyes closing shut orgasm overtaking you sending almost painful waves of pleasure like shockwaves throughout your body. You clamped down hard against her fingers and she slid them out completely after your body stopped spasming.
"Fuck" you murmured against her neck but it didn't quite cover it.
"Fuck" she agreed and adjusted her kimono.
Your world shifted into focus after your trembling eased a bit and you noticed how your wetness left a damp spot on her thigh wondering if she had another kimono to wear. You were watching her as she tied her hair and wondering when it got untangled before your gaze settled on her face. On her eyes.
"let me return the favor" you whispered, your hands already reaching for mizu before she stopped you and shook her head. She did something then that made your cheeks aflame.
Mizu brought the fingers covered in your release to her face inspecting them, giving it an experimental lick before she put them in her mouth tasting you as her gaze never left yours while doing it. Her blue eyes were twinkling with mischief that familiar smirk in place.
Oh.
Where did she learn to do that? You wondered, your cheeks hot.
"maybe another time, yeah?" she smiled and you nodded your head planting a shy kiss at the edge of her mouth before you were sliding away from her lap, adjusting your own kimono.
another time
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pelova4president · 2 months
Text
Secreta
Salma Paralluelo x Barca!Reader
summary~ You’ve been dating your girlfriend Salma for a while now but never really told the team. Will they find out?
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Hiding something from your teammates was difficult, especially when you’re part of the Barca squad. One big family. Well, a unique family but one nonetheless.
And it got even more complicated when the secret is between two teammates. Being in a relationship with a teammates was something itself, sharing it with the team meant endless teasing and god knows what else.
Salma was a flirtatious type so it wasn’t uncommon for her to hug you, pick you up and sometimes even slap your ass. Most of the team is Spanish anyway, they’re all more into pda than the English. Whenever someone would comment on it you had a good excuse, she does it to everyone. But it was hard to cover up the red that invaded the apples of your cheeks.
Mapi was the worst of them all, you may or may not have told her about your little crush on the striker before anything actually happened between the two of you, and she wouldn’t let it go. She might have her suspicions but she never really told you them out loud and luckily for you that saved you some embarrassment and unnecessary lying.
“Los tortolitos no pueden quitarse las manos de encima” (Lovebirds can’t keep their hands off eachother) Mapi yelled from across the pitch. Salma had swung you over her shoulder, having spurted water all over her earlier and now she wanted payback. Vicky, her partner in crime helped her with that. The younger girl had stolen a bucket full of ice cold water from the recovery room and was waiting for Salma to run towards her. Once she arrived with you over her wet shoulder Vicky drowned you in the freezing water.
Gasping for air you scolded the Spanish girls. “Joder! I’m gonna get you both for that, little shits!” and when you began kicking yourself free from the strong grip Salma had on you, they sprinted away.
“Jesus Christ..” you sighed, happy to be on your own two feet again. Alexia and Frido laughed at your wet state, “Kind of deserved it, don’t you think.” the Swede said. You rolled your eyes at her, receiving a disapproving look from the other woman.
After training Salma drove you home. You shared the appartement, deciding to move in together rather quickly, u-hauling. It seemed like the obvious choice, you needed to be at the same location at the same time almost every single day and you got to be the passenger princess. You would cook some actual food for the both of you, seems like a win win situation right?
That was until some teammates started to get suspicious of your whole living situation. Alexia thought she knew everything about you and when she discovered you lived with Salma she was a little surprised, you would’ve told her right, why didn’t you tell her. That was the base of her little Sherlock Holmes case.
Vicky was just noisy and like a little sister. Salma adored her and so, you did too. She was around almost every day so you couldn’t hide that you had moved in with your girlfriend. It was around the second week of living together that Vicky came around and walked into your bedroom, your shared bedroom. Obviously there were two bedrooms in the apartment but only one in use. With some garbage on the left side of the room and actual books on the right she knew that Salma had company.
“Salma, ¿tienes compañía?” (Salma, do you have company?) the noisy teenager asked. Salma walked towards the girl and kept herself cool. “La cama de y/n aún no ha llegado así que duerme en la mía.” (Y/n’s bed hasn’t arrived yet so she sleeps in mine) Salma replied. “You’d tell me if you liked someone, sí?” Vicky winked.
Apart from La Reina and the annoying teenager nobody suspected a thing.
salmaparalleulo
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liked by lucybronze and 281.828 others
a pleasure to have been there last night and end 3rd. thank you ❤️
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vickyylopezz._ mi 🐐
keirawalsh 💫
aitanabonmati mi hermana
y/n_y/l/n 🤤
commenting that might not have been the best thing since it only raised suspicions, especially with Vicky. But honestly, how could she look that good. And Salma is your girlfriend so you had all the right to drool over her.
When she finally came back from her little ballon d’or trip you almost had no time since you were expected for training the next day. Your schedule was full, scarily so. You could be in Italy, playing against Ireland one day and the next you’d be expected at Barca to play a full 90 minutes against Atletico Madrid.
This also meant that you had little time with your girlfriend whenever one of you were off for some event or sponsorship.
But even once in a while you needed to let go and go out with your girls, even if that meant you had to Uber home since your personal driver wasn’t there to drive you.
y/n_y/l/n
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liked by leahwilliamsonn and 186.725 others
🫶🏽🥂
comments
ellatoone take me with you next time xx
alexiaputellas what’s this?
vickyylopezz._ who’s that?
salmaparalluelo 🫶🏾
lucybronze barca’s doing you good
Stealing one last kiss you got out of Salma’s car. Hand in hand you walked towards the changing rooms. You were surprised there wasn’t anyone yet. Alexia would’ve already been here by this time. Tying your shoelaces up, not wanting to wear those football boots without them since they seem to be falling off players foots. Well, clumsy Alessia’s but a player nonetheless.
Salma had been done ages ago but decided to wait for you before heading into the canteen. “Ready, mi amor?” she took your hand, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Not quite yet..” you kissed her on her lips. Without meaning to really deepen the kiss it got heated.
“Hmm, need you Sal..” you hummed against her swollen lips. She kissed you even harder at that statement. “Haven’t had you in so long.” your grip getting tighter around her shoulders, almost like a koala clinging around a branch. Your girlfriends hands traveled lower and squeezed your ass before letting them rest there.
And before you could remove yourself from the striker, the changing room door swung open, revealing a complete Barca team. Vicky’s face was one with disgust, hearing your words from earlier. Alexia’s captaining face had taken over and disapproval was to be seen on some of your older teammate’s faces.
Mapi and Lucy burst out laughing. “Fucking told you so Mapi, give me my money!” ofcourse they had a fucking bet going on. Mapi and Vicky groaned at the same time but for different reasons. “My ears! I have to amputate them now! And my innocent eyes!” she screamed dramatically.
“Oh shut up Vicky, you’ve seen enough with those innocent eyes of yours!” your rolled your eyes at the teenager. “And you two had a fucking bet going on? How many of you had your suspicions?” It was your turn to be annoyed. Everyone seemed to find the walls, floor or even the ceiling more interesting than the questions you’ve just asked. “Joder..” Salma groaned, you really thought they had no clue.
“Well, dog’s out of the bagage. Everyone knows now.” Aitana says in broken English. “It’s cat’s out of the bag but yeah, good job with trying Aita” Keira praises her.
salmaparalluelo, y/n_y/l/n
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liked by jillroord and 261.738 others
dog’s out of the bagage
comments
leahwilliamsonn what does that even mean?
alessia cute 💕
ellatoone love youse
janafernandez3 guapaaasss
alexiaputellas still mad.
vickyylopezz._ ew gross 🤢
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
Note
Oh my golly I just thought of this neow hear me out. So it’s obvious that Alastor doesn’t care about others personally space but he cares about his own, so what if reader hates hates HATES being touched and they keep to their own space well what if Alastor always gets to close to them literally face touching face. Reader tries to lick his face yes at first he is disgusted but then later on it’s becomes a game between the two. Now one day Alastor is yet again in readers personal bubble and reader as a warning tries to lick/bite him again but what is Alastor just grabs their face, turns it to the side, an licks a long strip across their face… reader sits there then is fuming!!!! Then it turns into a casing game. (For the sake of the story let’s say reader also has shadow powers somehow) ANYWAYS I thought is was a little funny but if you find it totally weird please ignore LOVE YOUR WORK BY THE WAY💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖❤️❤️❤️
It's so DISGUSTING I LOVE IT ❤️ Like nasty little kids so fucking hilarious
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
❌️Romantic
✅️Platonic
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TW: SPIT, NASTY
Description: 👆⬆️
Alastor may have started this but you're going to finish it
From the moment you guys wake up then you both are on edge, knowing it's gonna be 👅 on sight when you see each other
Alastor hates losing so he's ready to put up one hell of a fight, using every dirty trick he can think of
But he's pushed your personal boundaries too many times for you to let it go now, you're in it to win it
You both are so equally disgusted but childishly stubborn about it, neither willing to submit
Sometimes someone will enter a room just to see two racing shadows and hear wet licking noises
"You BASTARD that's DISGUSTING!! Your mouth smells like blood!"
"Really dear, you should see someone about your excess saliva problem. I'm surprised you haven't drowned."
Okay I'm just gonna close this door-
It's to the point where the others in the hotel are scrambling to get away from you guys in fear of getting drawn into your weird little game
Except Niffty of course
She lets herself in on the game
But she doesn't get that it's just between you and Alastor and ends up terrorizing the others
Charlie and Angel just put up with it, Niffty is too cute to stay mad at~ Yes she is~
Vaggie and Husk have had ENOUGH
Not everyone banding together to finally put an end to the licking war between you and Alastor
NOT YOU AND ALASTOR MAKING A TRUCE TO TAKE THE OTHERS OUT OF THE GAME
You and Alastor refusing to look each other in the eyes after picking all that fur out of your teeth and him coughing up a hairball
Fucking Husk and Angel Dust
Honestly this probably lasts a full month before it's out of your systems and you two have come to an understanding
He'll be more mindful of your personal space and you'll NEVER put your tongue on him again
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I hope this makes you laugh!! I thought it was a pretty funny idea
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andersonlore · 4 months
Text
#BRAINROT! — abby anderson x reader
abby never thought she would be so lucky to have an opportunity like this. the two of you were roommates, two peas in a pod unable to be separated until ellie had won your heart. filled with anguish, abby had tolerated your relationship for the past two years. putting on the bravest face, being supportive, letting you lean on her through the lows of ellie.
ellie wouldn’t see it this way.
your girlfriend, seemed to grow an ugly green head at the burly blonde’s wondering eyes. ellie had made her case many times, trying to convince you abby wanted more than to be your best friend during your relationship. she wants you. stupid, rage fueled arguments started by her always ended up with a curse of roommate’s name. all roads lead to abby, especially your big blow up fight a few nights ago.
ellie gave you an ultimatum, her or abby.
both of them were here at the new year’s eve party with jesse as rhetorical hosts and you decided to stew. angrily, bitterly stewing. ellie didn't have the right to push someone out of your life just because she felt jealous. someone you care about, one of the few people who fully understands, helped you through your lowest moments and ellie expected you to just cut ties, as if it’s easy. as if you want to.
ellie is sitting next to dina on the couch and abby just made her way outside on the patio to watch the fireworks. the god awful turning feeling growing in the bottom of your stomach, nerves boiling over as rhea adrenaline pumped through your veins because you knew.
you knew, you knew, you knew.
the person you couldn’t leave without, the answer became clear when forced upon you.
you watch the clock as it winds down.
11:57
she didn’t speak a single word all night. all you were welcomed with were puppy eyes and a bleeding heart each second you refused to talk with her. ellie’s green orbs caught wind of your own, looking at her. you know she loves you, even when she can’t help it when she becomes crazy jealous, only spurring out insane nonsense. in her own way, she does but the anger her father left is drowning you, making it inescapable. she wants you to come to her, you know she does. even if ellie is mean when she’s afraid, she irrevocably in love with you.
but you can’t. because ellie knew you better than you knew yourself. you knew she didn’t want to be, but her eyes filled with regret as yours resembled pity. it beamed as brightly as a full moon on a starless evening, tears in her eyes as you made yourself across the living room to the back door.
11:58
your senses are met with the smell of cigarettes and cheap tequila, but you see her sitting beside herself away from her friends. she’s on a bench swing, rocking her body weight back and forth. she looks perfect with a beanie as her locks lightly framed her chin.
she’s anxious, forefinger picking at the label in beer, condensation making it easy for it fall away. abby wonders if everything will leave just as easily, you mainly. tonight at least she does, you hadn’t spoken a word to anyone really. she wonders if she did something wrong, if she’s hurt you in any type of way. abby hopes she’s just in her head too much because she can’t stand the thought of you hurt at all, but especially by her hands.
abby is pouting so badly, she misses you going up to her. until your weight sends the swing moving slightly, before she digs her feet into the wooden planks. you grab a swing of her beer, a drink you ate but you’ll need all help you can get if you still want to follow through with this.
it isn’t because this is difficult, it’s the easiest thing you’ve done all year. it terrifies how quickly you made the decision once you picture a life without her. you can’t see one, it’s not a possibility at all.
11:59
“c’mon, what you are you doing out here? it’s almost midnight. go find ellie, bub. is everything good?” abby says, but you almost don’t catch a thing she’s saying. you’re looking at her lips, licking your own in anticipation.
“it’s cold, too. where’s you jacket?” abby doesn’t wait for you to respond. she peels of your bomber, wrapping it warmly over your shoulders.
“i guess, i don’t know, i got distracted. i’m perfectly fine, abby.” you say, getting lost in beautiful blues. never really appreciating them like you should. if she let you, from this moment on, you’d never stop.
you’re leaning in closer to her, right hand resting on her thigh, and abby’s more confused than ever.
“are you sure everything is alright? why aren’t you trying to find ellie?” abby furrowed her eyebrows, trying to put the pieces together but nothing was fitting.
“i know exactly where ellie is.”
“okay….” abby looked at you skepticism glazed over her face.
the people you love, friends and family, they start count down from sixty.
“can you tell me what’s going on?”
“ellie wants me to make a choice and i’m making it. so just, sit there, ring the new year by my side and let me, please?” you begged.
“she really said it’s me or her?” abby whispered out, trying to hide the small grin trying to break out. all you did was give a nod.
the counts come down to twenty when abby asks another a question. “your girlfriend of two years gives you an ultimatum, and you’re deciding to sit with me.” the blonde is having a hard time believing you, slowly putting the pieces together one by one.
“yeah, there’s isn’t anyone i’d rather be. it’s you abby, i-it always has been.” you move your head so you can look at her, the two of you are leaning in closer, it’s when you notice the love in her eyes. how deeply it flows and god you hope it flows all over you. maybe it’s been there all along, just waiting for you to be there, waiting for you to feel the first drop.
12:00
everyone’s cheering as abby’s lips meet yours and dear god are they perfect. luscious, bottom lip separates your own as her calloused hands cradle your face as she angles the kiss deeper. abby pulls you closer as she handles you with all love in the world. you forget where you are and you’re moaning into the kiss, allowing abby to slide her velvet tongue in your mouth, claiming you for the first time.
the moment she’s imagined is more perfect than she deserves but she takes it anyways. abby can’t believe it as she pulls away, forehead resting against her, looking at you like you just the placed the world in her hands. and in a way, you kind of did.
“if there was ever any doubt, it’s always been you, too. but, i’m pretty sure you already knew it. i’m not one for subtly.” abby kisses you once more, and now you know this is how it was always meant to feel.
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megalony · 2 months
Text
Have You Slept- Part 2
This is the second part to my previous Evan Buckley imagine, thank you all for the lovely feedback on the first part. I hope you will all like this one, feedback is always lovely.
Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35
Evan Buckley Masterlist
Part 1
Summary: Evan invites the team to meet his wife and twins who he is very protective over. As one of the boys is autistic and (Y/n) happens to have narcolepsy.
Enjoy.
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Leaning against the doorframe, (Y/n) folded her arms over her chest and tilted her head to the side. A soft smile flooded her face as she looked over at her little family.
She thought it had been a bit too quiet up here for Evan to be upstairs with the boys. Especially when Cole had been playing with his trucks earlier and Finn was never silent in anything he did.
They were fast asleep.
Evan didn't usually take naps in the afternoon, especially not after he'd been on a night shift. He preferred to stay awake all day and go to sleep at night so he got a full night's rest and it didn't screw with his body clock. But he had been on shift all day yesterday and into the night.
(Y/n) had left her boys upstairs for all of an hour when she realised it was far too quiet for them.
She hadn't expected to find Evan laid out in the middle of their bed, laid on his side with his face hidden behind a pillow. He had one arm draped around Cole who was tucked up against him with his hands and face smushed against Evan's chest. And Finn was laid out on (Y/n)'s pillow with his face nuzzled into Evan's curls. Finn usually laid horizontally across his bed and usually on top of the pillows rather than stretched out. They weren't sure why.
Taking her phone from her pocket, (Y/n) snapped a quick picture before she advanced into the room with Dodger right behind her.
"No, leave them alone." She hushed quietly and clicked her finger before Dodger had chance to get on the bed.
He would definitely wake all of them up if he clambered on the bed with them and Evan needed his rest and the boys needed a nap. They all looked far too sweet and endearing to risk having Dodger wake them up.
She reached out and turned the tv down since it was playing a Scooby Doo cartoon. Evan liked background noise to send him to sleep, he couldn't handle the silence whereas the twins could sleep anywhere, anytime. Even Finn could sleep easily despite his active nature.
(Y/n) would let her boys get their rest and she would join them later. She was trying to take one nap in the afternoon at the same time to regulate her body clock and let herself rest. She was more tired than usual now she was pregnant again.
She stripped down to her underwear and rummaged in Evan's chest of drawers as quietly as she could until she found one of his lounge sets of a shirt and matching shorts. They weren't going anywhere this afternoon and she would rather be comfy than look presentable after a shower.
She took a lasting glance at her boys before she shooed Dodger out the room and let him trail after her into the bathroom.
As usual, Dodger flopped to lay down beside the shower with his head near the shower door.
He stayed in the bathroom with (Y/n) in case she had any cataplexy or sleep attacks when she was alone. Dodger could alert her in time for (Y/n) to sit down and keep safe. It wasn't safe for (Y/n) to take baths alone, even a microsleep could cause her to slip under water and she could drown or choke. The only times (Y/n) had a bath was when Evan took one with her.
And they had two handrails in the shower in case (Y/n) fell or had cataplexy and needed to lower herself to the floor.
(Y/n) left the shower door open just a little so Dodger could keep his nose near the door and sense her and keep an eye on her.
She could hear the tv fluttering quietly in the background since she'd left the bedroom door open. It was nice to have some background noise other than the sound of the water raining down on her. She tilted her head forward but didn't close her eyes. She didn't need the risk of letting her mind get confused and sending her into a microsleep.
Her hand smoothed across the base of her stomach when a sudden kick made her smile. She knew Evan was hoping for a girl this time. He would be over the moon either way, but he wanted a girl at some point in the future. (Y/n) could see if they had a girl, she would be a daddy's girl just like Finn was a mummy's boy. Evan would be a menace with a girl, he would spoil a daughter. Either Evan was going to have a little girl, or an army of boys to take after him.
Dodger was barking.
A shiver coursed down (Y/n)'s spine and her smile faded as she turned her head to look over her shoulder.
He had nudged the shower door open and started pawing at the back of her leg as he began to whine. (Y/n) took the hint and reached out to grab the handrail just as she felt her head drop forward and her eyes closed.
"Hhm… what?" A groan tumbled past Evan's lips as his hand that had been tucked beneath the pillow groggily moved to rub at his eyes.
He felt one of the boys nestle further into his chest and he was sure he could feel them kissing his chest. When he tilted his head back, Evan reached out towards whichever twin was tucked around his head like a scarf and he quickly realised it had to be Finn around his head and Cole on his chest.
A bark made Evan's eyes snap open and he tried to pick his head up before he suddenly felt Dodger nudging his nose against his bare back and pawing at his hips.
Oh no.
"Shit, shit." Evan uncurled his arm from around Cole and shuffled backwards to let Cole flop into the middle and allow Finn to pull away from his head and curl around the pillow instead.
His feet hit the floor and he stumbled over the jeans he had stripped off earlier before he went and fumbled over Dodger. His elbow smacked into the side table and he swallowed a groan as he took three tumbling steps forward when Dodger continued to get stuck under his feet.
"Move!" He was always grateful to have Dodger around for emergencies like this, but the labrador wasn't great in a panic when he always seemed to find his way under Evan's feet and trip him up. He hissed quietly, cradling his elbow as he bolted from the bedroom. It didn't take much to know (Y/n) was in the bathroom. The door was open, the light was on and Evan could hear the shower running.
Evan propelled himself around the doorframe and bolted towards the shower door that was swung wide open.
"Baby? Baby,"
Swatting his hand out, Evan grabbed the dial and turned the shower off, but not before his upper half and his hair got drenched under the tap.
He bent down until his knees hit the plastic floor and he knelt down in the puddle of water and bubbles foaming around his bare legs. The way his knees harshly hit the floor caused droplets to splutter up and cascade onto the walls and over his chest.
(Y/n) had one arm stretched up on the side of the shower with her hand slumped at an odd angle between the handrail and the wall. She had tried to lower herself down but Evan couldn't tell if she had managed it or if she had fell. Her knees were curled oddly beneath her with her shoulders slumped back against the wall and her head had flopped forward so her chin was tucked down against her chest.
Reaching out, Evan cupped (Y/n)'s face and gently tilted her head back against the wall. He pressed his thumb against her cheek and started to swipe it across her skin as his right hand curled into a fist and he began rubbing his knuckles up and down her sternum.
He could feel Dodger hovering nervously behind him and every few seconds, his nose would brush against Evan's back and shoulder as if to let him know that he was still standing faithful behind him.
"Come on baby. Wake up… there's my girl." Tilting his head back, Evan glanced around and reached out for the towel slumped over the side of the sink.
He wrapped an arm around (Y/n)'s back and slowly eased her forward until he could wrap the towel around her back and pull it over her shoulders. He froze for a moment when (Y/n)'s hand moved to grab his wrist and his face fell when he saw her trying to come back round.
Her eyes were watering as they tried to focus on him and he could see her breaths were starting to run away without her.
"Did you hurt yourself, baby? You okay?" He trailed his fingertips across her skin and looked down to see if she had any bruises forming or any tender spots. He hadn't heard a bang so he was hoping she hadn't fallen down like a ton of bricks and had managed to lower herself down instead. But that didn't mean to say she hadn't hurt herself in the process.
A whimper passed her lips as she slowly pulled her arm down and a twinge of pain shot through her wrist that had bent awkwardly around the handrail. She did her best to lower herself down before she dropped. The last thing (Y/n) wanted was to fall and hurt herself or the baby.
"Just a sprain," Evan mumbled and kissed her wrist and the action made (Y/n) want to smile, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. She shakily held his wrist and moved his hand until he pressed his palm against her lower stomach. "Well you've certainly woken them up." His fingers skimmed along her stomach and made aimless patterns while he felt a round of kicking bashing into his palm.
(Y/n) kept tight hold of Evan's wrist even when he carefully let go of her stomach so he could hold her waist and shuffle her forward towards him. But when she sat up, a gasp tumbled past her lips as her head dropped forward and bashed into Evan's chest.
Her fingers tightened around his wrist and she tried to hold down a groan. Her cataplexy was starting up again. She felt the way her head hit Evan's chest with a thud and sent him jolting backwards before he regained his balance.
"Ooh baby, come on. I think you need a nap." Evan pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her head and held her chin to lift her head onto his shoulder.
She had had an attack in the shower and now she was having cataplexy, she needed to go to sleep to settle her system and recalibrate.
"Up on three. One, two, three,"
When he felt (Y/n) holding his shoulders, Evan slowly pushed up and pulled (Y/n) to her feet. He let her lean her weight onto his chest and he backed up out the shower and spun round so he could ease (Y/n) down onto the toilet.
He knelt between her legs and rested his elbows on her thighs, grinning up at her softly while he helped her dry off. She heard hum mumble 'sneaky' under his breath when he looked over and realised she'd stolen a pair of his lounge wear clothes from his drawer.
"Do you feel okay, you haven't hurt yourself?" He smoothed his hands up and down (Y/n)'s thighs while she slowly pulled his shirt over her head. She managed a smile when Evan leaned forward just before she pulled the shirt over her stomach. He pressed his lips against her stomach and moved his hands up her thighs, around her curved stomach and towards her back so he could cup her waist.
"Just drowsy, I think we're okay." (Y/n) didn't have any sudden aches or pains anywhere and the baby was okay. They didn't need to take another trip to the emergency room, that had happened far too often in the past.
She let Evan take her hands and pull her up to her feet again before he turned them round so he was behind her like a shadow. His hands planted down firmly on her hips and gave a comforting squeeze. He kept her in front of him and stayed glued to her back as Dodger led the way out the bathroom.
Reaching her hand out, (Y/n) pressed her palm to the wall and her other hand curled around Evan's wrist when his hands curved round from her hips to cradle the bottom of her stomach beneath her shirt. It was comforting to feel his warm hands on her skin and his hard chest up against her back like a safety net.
They walked like they were conjoined and (Y/n) tilted her head back onto Evan's shoulder, just in case she had another cataplexy attack and couldn't hold her head up.
Just as they reached the threshold of the bedroom, (Y/n) gasped when her legs gave in.
It felt like she had turned to jelly. Cataplexy made her muscles relax and go weak as her body got confused between wanting to be in a sleeping state and needing to be awake. It was like she suddenly turned paralysed for a few seconds at a time. Usually it kicked in when (Y/n) felt a rush of adrenaline or when she was excited, but when her body was confused and unable to regulate for sleep, cataplexy crept up on her whenever it liked.
Her knees crashed into the carpet and she felt Evan bash his shoulder into the door as he doubled over her and tried to keep her upright. His hands managed to stay around her stomach and he bent his knees out around (Y/n).
"Fuck- Dodger out the way boy." Evan nudged Dodger back when he started to bark again. He pranced in front of them, shifting his weight from foot to foot and started rubbing his nose into Evan's bare thigh. "Baby you're gonna go again, I'm just gonna carry you, okay?"
(Y/n) barely had chance to nod while Evan held her wrist and looped her right arm around the back of his neck. But when he looked back down at her face, he watched her chin flop forward onto her chest. She'd gone again. Evan scooped an arm beneath her knees and gripped her waist securely before he lifted her up into his arms.
He pressed his lips to the top of her head as he walked into the bedroom with (Y/n) limp in his arms. He couldn't count the times he had carried her back to bed when she'd taken a nap or had a sleep attack like this. It was part and parcel of their life now.
His knees pressed into the edge of the bed and he lowered (Y/n) down just as she started to murmur and groan, waking up again. A softer smile fluttered across Evan's lips as he kissed her temple and planted his hands down on either side of her arms as if he were caging her in beneath him. He hooked his leg around and climbed over her, smothering his lips on the side of her neck to tickle her as he moved onto his side of the bed where Cole was.
"There we go, you go to sleep sweetheart."
Evan felt wide awake now but he would gladly watch tv for a while and see if he could doze back off to sleep while the rest of his family slept.
He tugged the cover over (Y/n) and propped himself up in the middle of the bed while Cole wriggled around. Evan had wedged himself right in the middle with (Y/n) on his right and Cole on his side of the bed on the left. And he gently shuffled Finn down off the pillow and eased him onto his chest for a snuggle to keep him settled and asleep.
Finn curled his knees up to his stomach and looped his arms around Evan's neck while he wedged his face into the crook of Evan's neck.
He found himself smiling when (Y/n)'s leg slumped over his thigh until her lower leg rested between his knees and she buried her face into his shoulder with her arms curled around his bicep. She pinned his arm into her chest and nudged closer until her front was glued up into his side. Evan grinned and pressed his palm against her lower stomach while he looped his free arm around Cole. He had one of them tucked under each arm and Finn crushing down comfortably on his chest.
***
Glancing at the watch on his wrist, Evan sighed and tilted his head back against the headboard. They had another half an hour before Maddie would be bringing the twins back home.
She had decided to take them out for the day to the aquarium. The bright colours and large glass tanks were like beacons to Finn and he loved them. And Cole loved learning about anything new so while Finn studied the tanks, Cole would read through the plaques and learn about all the fish.
Evan only had two hours left before he needed to get ready. The team were heading out for drinks tonight and he was going out with them. It had been a while since they had all gone on a night out and he was looking forward to it. He just wished (Y/n) was tagging along.
It didn't feel right leaving his family at home and going out somewhere without them. Maddie had offered to have the twins for the night, but (Y/n) didn't feel like going out. She loved the team, she was starting to think of them as her family, but her cataplexy was really playing up this week.
It came and went in spasms and she could go weeks without an attack, but she was having two or three almost every day. (Y/n) didn't want to go out and fall or almost head-butt the table or have an attack in public. And she couldn't drink anyway since she was pregnant. She would be sat in the corner feeling uneasy and unwell. It was safer and calmer if (Y/n) had a movie night in with the boys, and Maddie if she fancied staying for a while.
And it meant Evan could go out with the team and enjoy himself for the night.
Evan moved his hand to rub the bridge of his nose before he slung his arm back behind his head and left his right arm curled around (Y/n).
She was tucked up into his side with her back pressed into his right side and she had confiscated his arm and tucked it under her head. Not that he minded at all.
Whatever was on the tv wasn't capturing Evan's attention very much. He felt like closing his eyes and having a nap along with (Y/n). But he doubted it would make him feel refreshed, he would end up going out tonight feeling tired and sleepy if he went to sleep for half an hour. His body didn't need any extra sleep like (Y/n) did.
A jolt coursed through Evan's body and he scanned his eyes around when he suddenly heard Dodger barking.
He'd forgotten Dodger was in the bedroom with them if he was being honest.
When Evan came upstairs with (Y/n) attached to his front and his lips glued to her neck, he knew Dodger had remained downstairs with a new toy. Dodger was always more alert when Evan wasn't in the same room as (Y/n) or when he was out. When Evan was home, Dodger seemed to understand that Evan would take care of her.
He wasn't sure when Dodger had wormed his way into the room and flopped down on his blanket at the bottom of their bed. Sometime after Evan had had his way with (Y/n), presumably.
"Dodger, what is it boy?"
He watched Dodger perk up from the end of the bed and trot round to (Y/n)'s side of the bed. He sat down and leaned his chin on the bed, nuzzling his nose against (Y/n)'s arm as he started to whine.
A frown formed on Evan's lips as he moved to lean over (Y/n) and pressed his hand against her neck.
Her heartbeat had suddenly started to race. Usually when (Y/n)'s heartbeat dropped swiftly, that was a sign that she was going to have a sleep attack and Dodger could sense it. Her heart speeding up was normally a sign of cataplexy because that sometimes happened when she was excited or fuelled with adrenaline.
But (Y/n) was asleep.
She wasn't at risk of having an attack when she was already having a nap and she didn't have cataplexy when she was asleep.
"Baby… baby," Evan drawled as he brushed his thumb across (Y/n)'s jaw and carefully turned her so she was laying on her back and he was hovering over her.
Maybe she was having a nightmare. Her narcolepsy caused very vivid dreams for (Y/n). Some dreams were so intense that she could still see them when she woke up and opened her eyes. And her body often got confused, such as loosening her muscles or seizing up while she was still awake.
The body was supposed to lock every muscle while asleep so someone didn't act out their dreams, but (Y/n)'s signals and the hormones that controlled sleep didn't work properly. She didn't always lock up when she was asleep. Evan had woken up hundreds of times to (Y/n) lashing her arms out or jolting forward and almost falling out the bed.
"Baby… you gonna wake up for me?"
She had to be having a dream because Dodger was still whining uncertainly and Evan could feel the palpitations she was having.
His eyes widened and he leaned back a little when (Y/n)'s eyes opened but her eyes were immediately focused on something in the far right corner of the room. Evan tried looking over but he couldn't see anything. The room was basked in darkness because he had closed the curtains and the only light was coming from the tv. Shadows were draped around the room like dark hanging cloths.
Evan wanted to try and say something but he didn't get the chance when he realised (Y/n) was starting to shake. Her elbows were pinned into her waist and her lower back had arched up from the bed just a little making her spine curve, but every part of her was shaking.
She wasn't moving.
Evan brushed his thumb across her jaw and kept his fingers pressed into the side of her neck to feel her pulse which was still fluctuating and steadily rising. He could feel her chest rising and falling and shallow, panicked breaths blundered past her lips.
"There's nothing there, sweetheart. It's okay, you're awake now."
A guttural scream gurgled at the back of (Y/n)'s throat in response but she couldn't move her lips to try and speak. She couldn't move anything. Her body had frozen and locked up. And now her eyes were open, she couldn't seem to close them either.
"Shh, shh baby it's alright… it won't last long. You're okay, just look at me baby."
Evan shifted round until his left forearm was pressing down into the bed beside (Y/n)'s shoulder and his right hand started to graze up and down her neck and shoulder. He leaned across her with his chest lightly pressing down onto hers and he pecked her forehead when tears started to fall down her face.
She was having sleep paralysis. It didn't happen too often, Evan couldn't remember the last time she'd locked up like this. But it never lasted longer than a minute or two. Her body was just confused and needed to realise she was awake now so she could start to move again.
Tears continued to burn down (Y/n)'s face and she made another muffled sound when she couldn't even move her eyes to look up at Evan. She was locked on staring at the shadow in the corner of the room that looked mysteriously like the figure she had seen in her dream.
Most of the nightmares she had were of being followed or being trapped somewhere with no escape. Now she was locked in her body that was refusing to cooperate or move to her will.
"It's okay, I'm right here, I've got you."
Evan's voice was comforting and the feeling of his lips against her neck was like sparks igniting under her skin and lighting up throughout her body.
When her eyes finally closed, (Y/n) screwed them shut as tightly as she could, grumbling and gasping through clenched teeth as she continued to writhe and tremble against the mattress and Evan.
She wasn't sure what Evan said next over the blood pounding through her ears, but (Y/n) suddenly felt her right hand twitch against her thigh. It was enough to make her relieved and she tried to move it again. Her hand bashed into her thigh and sent a jolt running down her leg, but it was enough. It was something.
When her other hand started to move, (Y/n) shifted her trembling hands and locked them around Evan's bicep that was curved over her chest. She could still feel herself trembling and the rest of her body felt stiff as if she had been covered in clay that had now dried and locked her in a plaster cast form. Even the tears rolling down her face felt like they were starting to dry out and make her face crack and tense up.
"Alright baby girl, let's sit you up." Evan never liked to move (Y/n) until he knew the paralysis was wearing off, just in case he hurt her or confused her body even more and kept her locked in for longer.
He wrapped his right arm beneath her arched back and curled his hand around her bare hip. Keeping her chest flush against his own as he slowly reeled up and pulled (Y/n) along with him. Lying on her back wasn't going to help, it was only going to persuade her body into going back to sleep which was the last thing she wanted or needed right now.
Evan pulled his knees up and sank back on his heels, letting (Y/n) slump forward into his chest until her face was tucked just beneath his chin. And her trembling arms moved to lock around his torso with her half-curled fists bashing into his back to try and pin herself against him.
"It's okay, I'm still here."
Evan tilted his head down and pressed his lips to the back of (Y/n)'s head, inhaling her scent as he began to rub his hands up and down her back in slow, soothing circles.
"L-locked up," (Y/n)'s lips smothered against Evan's exposed chest and she spoke quietly against his sternum that was pressed beneath her lips. She could feel the heat radiating off of him and how tense he was against her even though his arms were loosening up and felt soft and warm against her sides.
"I know baby, but you're awake now, it's passed." Evan had only experienced sleep paralysis once in his life and he hated every second of it. He hated feeling like he had disconnected from the rest of his body and no matter how hard he tried, nothing would move of his own accord. Evan had never had to think about moving his muscles before, it was automatic until that one paralysed moment.
Turning his head, Evan leaned his cheek against the top of (Y/n)'s head while his left arm curved around her waist and rested over her stomach.
"Maybe I should stay home tonight-"
"No. Y-you go out… no more naps, and I'll be okay." (Y/n) nudged her nose against Evan's chest before she managed to flop her head back so she could look up at him. She wasn't going to let him stay home and miss out on a night with the team. That wouldn't be fair on him when he was looking forward to going out with them tonight.
As long as she didn't have another nap and tried to go to sleep at her usual time tonight, she should be okay. Her sleep attacks didn't usually last long enough for her to have a bout of paralysis like this and she hoped her cataplexy wouldn't play up. But that was something she could deal with on her own if Evan went out.
He deserved a night off with the team and she wasn't going to have him stay home when he didn't have to.
"Are you sure?" He nudged his nose against hers and reached his hand up to cup the side of (Y/n)'s face. His thumb pulled down across her lower lip and swiped across her chin.
"Yes, go have fun." (Y/n) managed to move her hands against his back and she felt the way he hissed against her lips when she dug her nails into the back of his shoulders. His lips moved away from hers and made a trail down her jaw and along the side of her neck until he reached the junction between her neck and shoulder.
"Hm, that's not quite my idea of fun."
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
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Difficult III
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Baby!Reader
Summary: A domestic day at home when you were a baby
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Ingrid thinks Mapi hasn't looked prettier than when you're on her hip.
It's where she can most often find you.
Mapi's enamoured with you, Ingrid knows this. She hovers around you like she's a little kid around a new puppy.
It's pretty adorable and Ingrid can't help but smile often when Mapi sits with you on the floor and helps you play with your cars.
"She's not going to fall, Mapi," Ingrid says with a hint of humour as you toddle around the room pushing your little walker.
"She might."
"She won't."
"But she might."
"Mapi," Ingrid says fondly," She can walk fine. She's not going to fall."
You ram your walker into the wall, giggling loudly at the sound it makes. You do it a second time and then a third. You let go of it and clap, jumping around before abandoning it in favour of toddling over to your playmat and slumping down on top of it.
A Norwegian soap opera plays on the tv, the opening credits that you clearly know very well by the way you're bopping your head along and garbling out sounds that Mapi's half sure aren't actually words but she doesn't quite understand Norwegian just yet so she can't be truly certain.
Ingrid clicks her tongue at you and says a long string of words that Mapi doesn't understand again.
You turn your head to look at her, gummy smile wide and happy.
Ingrid pats the space between them and you pull yourself over, arms raised up so you can be lifted.
You wiggle between the pair of them, sucking happily at the sippy cup Ingrid gives you. You've just properly started to wean off bottles and Mapi's, yet again, in complete awe at the way Ingrid knows exactly what to do with you.
It's hard to believe that your Ingrid's first baby, though, probably also her last.
You're more than enough for both of them.
You push away Ingrid's hand and take the sippy cup in your own.
Immediately, Mapi feels nervous.
"She's not going to drown herself," Ingrid says with a laugh," She's trying to be more independent."
"She's a baby," Mapi replies," She shouldn't need to be independent."
"She's a baby," Ingrid echoes," She's growing up. She won't be with us together."
"No," Mapi says firmly, pulling you onto her lap and curling her body around your little one," She's going to stay with us forever and ever."
Ingrid laughs. You look to be quite happy sitting on Mapi's lap, wiggling your little toes as you stare blankly at the tv ahead of you.
"You'll get sick of her when she's older."
"Of my bebita? No. Never happening." She presses a kiss to your cheek that you begrudgingly accept before tugging at her fingers with your strong baby grip.
You screech when her grip on you tightens and you try to push her off.
"Mapi," Ingrid says warningly, plucking you from her grip to place back on your playmat," You can't hold her like that. She doesn't like it."
Mapi pouts but you're happy again on your playmat, banging a toy car on the floor and throwing it across the room. You scooch around on your bum a bit, just out of reach of her extended arms.
You end up sitting with Bagheera, who lets you rhythmically pat her back with little more than a judgemental look in her eyes.
Ingrid's happy to let you play by yourself, nudging Mapi with her feet to get her to stop staring at you.
"She's not going anywhere. It's just Bagheera."
"She might scratch her."
Mapi's never had an issue with Bagheera scratching people before but with you sitting by yourself, she can't help but imagine everything going wrong and you getting hurt.
"Then she'll know not do it again," Ingrid replies," You can't protect her from everything."
You grow bored of Bagheera quickly and bum shuffle back over to the sofa. You peek your head over the arm where Mamí is sitting. You make eye contact with Mumma, who smiles at you.
"We should put her in bubblewrap," Mapi says," And I think we should get her a helmet. Just in case."
She's shocked when you pull yourself up, popping your head over the arm of the sofa as you propel yourself forward. You tumble head first into her lap but right yourself and climb over her to get to Ingrid, who happily takes you into her arms.
You sag against her, wining.
She presses the sippy cup against your mouth and you happily drink.
A camera shutter sounds and Ingrid looks up to see Mapi holding up her phone.
You turn too, more so because Mumma's not looking at you than you actually caring about what Mamí's doing.
"I'm going to make that my lock screen," Mapi says as you grunt and wiggle your way into standing up on Ingrid's thighs.
It's nice being tall like Mumma sometimes but you find yourself getting bored of it like you got bored of your walker and of Bagheera.
The outro of the soap opera starts playing and your hurriedly scramble onto the floor to bounce to the rhythm.
It's not quite dancing (you don't have the fine motor control to do that just yet) but your bouncing is quite good and Mapi immediately connects her phone to the speakers.
"Dance party, bebita!"
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reiderwriter · 6 months
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At Long Last Love Has Arrived
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Final Chapter of That's What You Get
Summary: After a hard case, the team gathers in a celebration of love and friendship.
Warnings: suggestive content, no smut. Spoilers for Seaaon 7 Episodes "Hit" and "Run."
A/N: This is it! This is the final chapter! It's been a long journey and I'm so thankful to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged, and generally followed along with the story! And to anyone who is here now that it's finished: Thank you as well! For now, this is everything I have planned for this series, but I might add a few epilogues a few months down the line!
For everyone waiting for my last week of kinktober content, thank you for being so patient! I'm hoping to get it all finished and the backlog up this weekend, so let's just count this as a super special weekend special!
As always, you can find my masterlist here and the series masterlist here!
It was late in the day when the case finally wrapped, and you'd never felt more relieved to have come out of a case unscathed. 
JJ was a wreck, obviously, having had her family targeted and believing on multiple occasions that she was about to lose her partner. Emily was acting strange, too, and you were growing more concerned with her, especially after she'd put herself in harm's way to save Will. 
The team was exhausted, and you gladly slunked away that night, practically falling into your own apartment as you tried to bury a day of close calls. Spencer followed you, of course. The two of you sat silently together after the days events, just thankful to have company, really. 
Your husband (you were still warming yourself up to that title) sat, jaw tensed, on your couch, book in hand and hair a mess as you sat beside him, slowly sinking further into the couch as you thanked the gods that everyone got through that, but especially him. 
"Spencer," you whispered, looking at him to see if he'd notice your small sounds. No reaction.
"Spencer." You tried again, still in a whisper, but he still didn't make a move. Sighing and falling further into the couch, you decided just to go for it and laid your head in his lap quietly, closing your eyes and finding a comfortable position. He didn't bat an eye, though, simply tangling a hand through your hair and gently stroking it until the comforting repetition pulled you into a dreamless slumber. 
He tried to wake you up gently a few hours later, but the shrill ring of his cell interrupted his gentle touches. You gasped and startled up, almost headbutting him but instead ending up face to face, close enough to hear the hitch in his breath as he caught you just before you collided. 
"Sorry… I must've fallen asleep." Your voice was low, mostly because you'd let your gaze fall down to his lips, getting distracted by his proximity. 
"You did." He said, stroking your back and looking just as distracted. 
"We should probably pick that call up, right," you suggested, but you were already being drawn into his orbit, noses practically touching.
"Maybe we should," he replied, but instead of moving to do so, he simply tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and pulled your face up to his. The slant of his lips against yours was calming, so sweet and familiar, and so goddamn good that it helped drown out the pitchy screech of his phone. His hand stayed firmly on your jaw, controlling your movements and showing you exactly what he wanted in these stolen moments.
As the kiss went on, it grew hotter, a gentle flame searing your chest as you begged his lips to put it out, needing more and more of him. His hand left your jaw, falling instead to your ass as he pulled you on top of him fully, letting you straddle him as he kept your lips connected. 
You were entranced, letting him devour you to your heart's content. You wanted to move your hips to feel more of him at your core, but he had a firm grip and wasn't letting you go that easily. 
"Talk about topping from the bottom," you laughed into his ear as you pulled away for a second, pushing your hair behind your ear before he grabbed you and pulled you down for another hungry kiss.
"Don't get bratty, Y/N, we both know you're a pillow princess," you laughed at that and he took advantage, pressing his lips to your neck as he finally let your hips fall to meet his. Your laugh morphed into a hiss as you desperately clung to his shoulders, head thrown back in the bliss of what was to come. 
The ringing had stopped, thankfully, and honestly, it was so far from your mind that you'd almost completely forgotten what had woken you in the first place.
Until it started again, except this time it was vibrations in your pants and you practically moaned out loud before clapping a hand over your mouth and bolting from Spencer's lap, grabbing your phone as fast as you could while Spencer barely contained his enjoyment of the situation. 
"This is Y/N." You said into the receiver as you glared daggers at him. 
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but considering Doctor Reid just let my call ring out, I think I might have." David Rossi's barely contained mirth was evident even through the phone, and you mouthed some bad words at Spencer as he grabbed you and pulled you down into his lap again. 
"Since that wasn't a question, I won't be dignified it with a response. Is there anything you need, Rossi?" You asked, tipping your head back against Spencer’s shoulder but not letting yourself relax just yet. You'd never be able to live it down if you made any mistakes on this call. 
"Somehow, the knuckleheads around me keep getting engaged and married, and as a generous soul, I find myself wanting to help them." 
"Who got engaged?" You said, suddenly perking up. It'd been a tough day. Some good news and a celebration were direly needed. 
"Relax, I'm getting there. Are you and your now seemingly permanent husband free tomorrow night? A little birdie may have told me about a certain blonde finally giving into a proposal today. That same birdie may also have already flown out a Mrs. Jareau to bare witness."
"David Rossi, has anyone ever told you what a wonderful man you are?" 
"Not enough, I'm sure."
"We'll be there. What time?" He told you the details, and you whispered them into Spencer's ear, knowing that was just as good as jotting it down on paper. 
"And Rossi?" You said, as you were about to say your goodbyes, "thank you. For everything." The call ended and looked back up at Spencer from your place on his lap. 
"I think we have another shotgun wedding to attend." 
–X– 
Waiting for JJ to come down in her wedding dress, you were reminded again of what a truly wonderful choice of husband you had made. 
The two of you had arrived together at the wedding, but had made a small attempt to separate yourselves for now, not wanting to take the attention away from JJ and Will on their big day after their nightmarish week. You'd had a quick wink from Penelope, though, and a wiggle of the eyebrows from Emily, which made you chuckle as she handed you a flute of champagne. 
"You look incredible, Mrs. Reid." She said under her breath, and you giggled a bit but called her off as best you could. 
"Laying low for now, so keep your mouth shut, Agent Prentiss." She stuck her tongue out at you, and the two of you burst into laughter as you enjoyed the peaceful ambience Rossi had created in his back garden. 
"If Rossi ever re-retires, he should think of pursuing a career as a party planner. I know writing is working out well for him, but damn, that man could make a killing." Emily joked, catching your attention for a second, but you were distracted, eyes watching Reid from across the lawn. 
He was crouched down beside Henry, showing the eager, bright-eyed boy a magic trick. He looked so happy, so genuinely engaged with Henry, focusing his entire attention on him, that you couldn't help but watch on fondly. You knew how it felt to have his attention devoted entirely on you, and you felt your skin grow warm as you imagined how he would be with his own children. 
With your children. 
"Looking a little feverish there, Y/N. Baby feverish." In embarrassment, you looked away, letting your eyes fall around the lawn to anything but Reid as you tried to stammer out a response. 
"Whatever could you mean? Oh, would you look at that, Hotch is calling me over, see you." 
A skilful exit it was not, and now you'd forced yourself to go and make awkward conversation with your boss for a few minutes to escape the cackles of laughter escaping Emily behind you. You felt your ears glow red as you slowly marched across the lawn, convinced that someone was going to try and extinguish you before you reached your destination. 
Luckily, Beth saw you approach before Hotchner did and called out to you, extending a smile and a greeting. 
"Y/N, you look lovely. It's great to see you. How have you been?" You exchanged pleasantries and chatted for a while before Hotch cut in again. 
''Beth, I think the ceremony is starting soon. Would you mind finding Jack for me while I discuss something with Y/N?" He dismissed her effortlessly, and you suddenly dreaded the conversation that was about to come, noting your slip up from a few nights before. 
"Y/N, I don't mean to pry, but I've been meaning to ask you about your relationship with Spencer." Your eyes opened wide as you blinked at him again for another second. 
"Hold on, you don't know?" He looked down at you with a furrowed brow, somehow thinking you'd both misunderstood the conversation and where it was headed. 
In all honesty, you'd jumped to the conclusion after his warning over the phone the day before that he'd known about your relationship with Spencer. It didn't really make all that much sense to you, but you thought he must've been your second witness, only because there were very few people with the power to keep Penelope Garcia silent. But now, you wondered if you'd been wrong.
"Don't know what? Y/N, I'm simply asking a question about your physical relationship with Reid and if you think it will color either of your judgements on cases." 
"Physical… oh my god." You begged the earth to swallow you whole at that point. 
"I'm correct in thinking you two had relations whilst we were staying in Las Vegas, am I not?" His brow stayed furrowed as he fished for more information.
"How… How did you know?" 
"Spencer babbled about Star Trek in the lobby that last morning in Vegas. He seemed nervous, and combined with your suspicious attitude, it wasn't exactly a well-kept secret. Plants aren't great hiding spots, Y/N." 
"Oh god," you groaned again, a hand falling to your mouth to cover your shocked face as you took everything in. He'd practically known from the start, even if he hadn't really known. "So you want to know if we can be trusted to stay impartial in the field." 
"Simply put, yes, it is a concern of mine. The FBI technically frowns on casual hookups between employees, but in this case, if you can work professionally-" 
"We're married," you blurted out before you could stop yourself. You almost enjoyed the shock on Aaron Hotchner's face as you dropped that bombshell, as momentary as it was. 
"That certainly…changes things." He considered your words for a moment before opening his mouth again. "We can talk about this in the office on Monday. For now, congratulations are in order." 
As you clicked your glasses together awkwardly, Rossi gathered everyone's attention, ready to begin the ceremony. You took your place next to Spencer and let him grab your hand and squeeze it for a moment, sharing a look before you turned your gaze back to JJ and watched as her mother walked her down the aisle to marry the love of her life. 
His hand in yours was warm and constant, and he held you so softly that you felt like you were floating. He'd been worried that morning that you'd feel slightly forlorn at the wedding ceremony. After all, you didn't have much of one, even if he'd promised you 100 do-overs and vow renewals. 
But standing here with him, you found yourself feeling thankful simply that he was there with you. Your wedding had been perfect, and you gladly applauded JJ and Will as they finally kissed at the altar, wishing them all the bliss that you felt in that moment. 
The party was a blast and you had an amazing time eating, drinking and dancing with all your guests, gladly taking the opportunity to hog Spencer for a few dances, enjoying how you were able to shamelessly cling to him with no one batting an eye. Your joy and laughter spilt out every time he swung you around and pulled you into him, abuzz with love. 
You were almost glad when JJ called you all in for a quick speech, grateful to let your feet have a rest - Spencer may have been dancing enthusiastically, but he was still Spencer, and your toes had been attacked a few times in the course of your few dances. 
"I want to say thank you for coming here tonight, and, of course, thank you, Rossi, for hosting this beautiful wedding. It's not every day we get to celebrate a wedding in the BAU, let alone two in one year, so I'm just thankful we got to come together to celebrate like this." 
Will looked perplexed by her side as she raised her flute to start the toast. 
"Hold on, who else got married?" 
Your eyes widened as you stopped your champagne flute by your lips, suddenly catching on to the thread of conversation. 
"Oh my god, it was you!" You shouted, jumping up and probably confusing every single guest in attendance. "JJ, you- you were the other witness!" You stood there shaking a pointed finger at her, semi shocked. 
"Witness to what?" Morgan asked tentatively, wondering what he'd been left out of for a second. 
"I guess the cats out the bag. Sorry, Spence." 
"Why are you apologising to Spencer? Who got married?" Derek's questions were going unanswered, though, as you blubbered in the middle of the crowd suddenly put the pieces together. 
"You know, the FBI really shot themselves in the foot when they let you go over to Homeland. You're good." You cracked a smile at JJ, and she smiled back, just as you felt a hand on your back. 
"We didn't want to announce it here and hijack your wedding, but since you kinda let it slip first, would you mind if we…?" Spencer vaguely gestured between you, just as JJ let him take the floor, her and Will standing off to the side as Spencer turned the both of you around to face the crowd. 
You tried to meet his gaze as he did  but his eyes stayed trained on the crowd in front of you instead. Still puzzled, he began to talk, and you listened. 
"Last month, we chose to get married in Las Vegas," he started and braced for impact as he looked out at the audience. "And- and it seems like most of you knew that?" He'd theorised that most of your team knew already, but he wasn't prepared for just how many of them stood looking back at him with a sheepish 'yes, we know' look on their faces. 
"Wait, how do so many of you know?" He glanced around the crowd, landing on Rossi's gloating face first. 
"Don't look at me kid, you told me about it, and I kept my mouth shut."
He turned to Emily next. "Y/N sent me a text meant for someone else, and I tortured the information out of her after that." 
Exasperated, he looked down at you before shaking his head and looking at Hotch. 
"I expressed some concerns about your… involvement earlier, and Y/N informed me about your relationship status." He explained, tone serious in that mocking way only he could carry off. 
"And I was there, and so was Penelope." JJ filled in the gaps, leaving you feeling particularly bashful at Spencer’s side.
In a second, though, you were consumed by giggles as Morgan whipped around on Penelope dramatically. 
"Et tu, baby girl? Am I seriously the only one who didn't know?" Morgan glanced around receiving pats on the back from the crowd as they slowly trickled back to the dance floor, picking up extra drinks as they went. 
"No, I'm there with you, Morgan. JJ didn't even tell me you guys were dating." Will said, looking genuinely taken aback once again. 
"Oh, well. That's probably because we didn't actually date. We just got married." You replied, feeling your face flood with heat as you stuttered the words out once again. 
"You're telling me I had to almost die to get JJ to agree to marry me, even after 7 years of dating and a child, and you managed to convince a woman to do it in one night in Vegas?" Will seemed genuinely impressed, and with a laugh, gave Spencer a clap on the back awkwardly as he offered his congratulations. 
Penelope led Morgan away to console him, and the other happy couple walked back to the dance floor again as well, leaving you in the arms of your husband, as you finally had to face your small mistakes. 
"So, Mrs. Reid, whatever happened to keeping this to ourselves for a while?" 
"Honest mistakes, both of them, I swear." He took your hands in his and pulled them up so he could kiss your wrists before gently dropping them and pulling you in at the waist. 
His mouth fell to your ears as he spoke again. 
"And I was so looking forward to using one of the methods we brainstormed the other night." You stood confused for a second as he pulled back to watch your expressions, your mouth twitching the second you realised what he meant. 
Ring. Motel. Loud sex. And breeding you until he knocked you up. 
Clearing your throat, you wrapped your arms up and around his shoulders, hanging yourself off him, putting yourself at his mercy as you fluttered your eyelashes up at him. 
"Well, I wouldn't want to spoil your enjoyment now, would I? I'm sure we can still find the time to try those methods out." 
The excitement in his eyes was almost comical, and you genuinely yelped as he literally swept you off your feet. 
"Spencer, what are you doing? Put me down!" 
"No, you're coming home with me, Mrs. Reid. Sorry, it's official now. You're mine."
"And I'm not going to forget it easily, now put me down." 
"And let you go back on your promise to let me do some very dirty things to you? Never." 
With another startled squeak, he carried you through the crowd and right to the doors, carrying you all the way into your new life together.
At long last, your love had arrived, and he was carrying you away into your future.
🏷 @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @whovianwholikesgirls @doriantomybasil
626 notes · View notes
nobody7102 · 7 months
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Not What He's Made For
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Spoilers for Season 6, Episode 11
Pairing: Evan "Buck" Buckley x Reader
Warnings: Angst, mentions of pregnancy and lost pregnancy
A/N: First fic in a while, it had to be for my baby Buck. This was inspired by Billie
Main Master-List
________
Standing at the window watching as everyone gathers in his room. Buck swallows hard, seeing himself laying in the hospital bed hooked up to the ventilator, his jaw clenches with anger, an anger that no matter how hard he tries, he can't wake himself up.
Its as if the universe is playing some sick joke on him. He already talked to Daniel and the alternate version of Bobby, what more does the universe want him to learn?
Banging against the glass window “I’M HERE!” He yells over and over as the crew of the 118 slowly file out of the room. Leaving just three.
Maddie, Bobby, and Y/N,
He watches as they sit and make small talk, sometimes discussing things that the doctors and nurses have told them about Buck’s current status. After about an hour a nurse stops in to have Maddie look over some paperwork as his closest next of kin, being that their parents are still hours away from arriving at the hospital. Leaving just Bobby and Y/N.
If there ever where someone who hid their troubles well, it was Y/N.
Always seeming fine and calm in tense or hard situations as her fears screamed inside of her.
When Y/N joined the LAFD most of her previous houses would say thats what made Y/N such a good firefighter, but if you asked Y/N she would always say it was her fear that runs her life. 
And when Y/N joined the 118, Bobby was the only captain who could read through her facade. 
After a call where Y/N had to crawl through a collapsed building a year after she joined the 118, Bobby found her having an anxiety attack in her hospital room after the 118 had visited her after she was found in the rubble. Other time Bobby had learned to tell when Y/N was too in her head about anything.
And when Buck and Y/N had started to turn their situationship into an actual relationship Bobby helped Y/N learn how to navigate her fears when it came to seeing a fellow first responder, and he taught Buck how to help Y/N navigate her anxieties.
And slowly over time, Buck and Y/N became each other’s persons. They had been though so much together, from being almost drowned by a tusnami, being shot at, crawling out of a sinkhole, to fighting wild fires down in Texas, and now this.
A lightning strike. Something so beautiful yet as much as Y/N would normally have admired their beauty, right now she loathed the beauty of plasma.
The one shift she took off and now Buck’s life hangs in the balance.
Placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, Y/N turns her head away from Bobby to quickly wipe away her tears. “Comon Y/N… what’s going though your head?” Bobby prys gently.
Letting out a sigh Y/N shakes her head, finally turning to face Bobby. “Did Buck tell you we had a fight-” she correcters herself “or rather that we’ve been fighting…” 
Bobby shrugs slightly “He mention you two were bickering but he didn’t say over what” he takes a seat next to Y/N.
“...The fights… the bickering, whatever you wanna call it… its part of the reason why I asked for this shift off…” 
Bobby nodded his head as he listened “I get it, come back with a clear approach to everything after giving each other some space… what have you been fighting about if you don’t mind me asking”
“...Buck….. Buck thinks I don’t wanna be with him anyone…. That I’m getting tired of him, and I kept trying to tell him… show him that it isn’t the case” Y/N glances over to Buck.
“Okay… then what’s the other reason you asked for this shift off?” Bobby raised his brow. 
Blowing out a breath, Y/N shakes her head.
“If you let it sit, it’s gonna fester into something more. We both know that” Bobby sits back in the chair and crosses his arms, waiting for Y/N to talk.
She knows he’s right, if she avoids talking its just gonna sit in the back of her mind and eventually come back to bite her in the ass later. 
“...If I tell you this… no one else can know, you have to swear to me Bobby. No one… not Athena or Maddie or Eddie or Buck, no one.” She turns to Bobby.
“Y/N, if its serius enough you know Buck-”
“Bobby.” Y/N pleads “He can’t know” 
Bobby lets out a sigh, stuck between a rock and a hard place, he eventually nods his head “It stays between us, I promise” 
Slowly nodding her head, Y/N takes a deep breath and looks back at Buck one last time before she turns back to Bobby.
“... Buck and I have been fighting because he thinks I’m pulling away from him… this has been going on for the past week and a half” Y/N glances down to the floor as she continues “and I mean maybe I was a little bit like three days ago but it’s not for the reason’s Buck thinks” 
Starting to pick at the loose threads of her hoodie, Y/N shakes her head and blows out a breath before glancing to the doorway of Buck’s hospital room, making sure no one other than Bobby is around to hear her before she speaks.
“... a little over two weeks ago… I found out I was pregnant” Y/N sees the shock on Bobby’s face and cuts him off before he has the chance to speak “I was gonna tell you, I swear… but anytime we were on shift it was slow, we didnt end up doing anything super dangerous… and I wanted to tell Buck before I told anyone else”
Bobby’s gaze softens as he sees Y/N close her eyes and lean back in the chair as she takes a breath before continues. “If…. If I was pulling away, it’s because I was trying to figure out how to tell Buck” He sees how Y/N keeps her eyes to the floor as she talks, a tear starts to roll down her cheek before she brings her hand up to wipe it away. “Becuase its Buck. We all know he’d make a great dad, and a great dad deserves to be told in a great way… because Buck is worth taking extra steps to plan for so I ordered this little onesie and all these balloons and a cake to surprise him… and I know he would have loved it” Bobby can hear the passion in her voice before Y/N goes quiet for a moment to compose herself before she clears her thought.
“But then… four days ago I went to the ER because I was having some cramps and light spotting… I asked my doctor about and she said it was normal” Y/N shakes her head “But I could tell… something wasn’t-” Y/N stops herself, taking a moment before she swallows hard. “And… that’s when I learned that I lost the pregnancy…” She shrugs as she tries to maintain was little composer she has left.
“They don’t know what happened… in the ER they told me that things like this just happen sometimes…” Y/N’s voice tightnes she brings her hand up to cover her face for a moment as she tries to take a few deep breaths.
“So… for the last few days… yeah I was pulling away because I had all this stuff planned and I had to figure out what to do with it now because-” her voice breaks “It was all for nothing” her shoulders shake as Bobby wraps his arms around Y/N, letting her cry on his shoulder as he glances between her and Buck with pity and sadness in his eyes. 
“Y/N” He starts once she’s a bit more calmed down “This isn’t something you can hide from Buck”
Y/N just continues to shake her head “I can’t Bobby, I’ve tried-” 
“Y/N” 
“No I mean it” Y/N cuts him off her voice wavers a little bit “I have tried to tell him at every opportunity but i can’t… everytime i try i choke everytime.”
Pulling away from Bobby, Y/N sniffles and wipes her eyes before she glances to Buck “...I think it’d just make it worse, make it hurt more if I told him…” Y/N mumbles “he’s not made for sadness Bobby… Buck thrives on the happiness and joy… love and happiness and passion run his life… something like this?” she just stares at Buck laying in the hospital bed and the tears start to roll down her cheeks once more “it’s not was he’s made for…”
Staring at Y/N and Bobby, Buck bangs his fist against the glass one last time before he stops banging, his hand growing sore as he rests his head against the glass, his tears matching Y/N’s as all he can do it watch…
Hoping that this isn’t his forever.
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Tagging: @beachbabey @t-nd-rfoot
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rainydayathogwarts · 1 month
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Open arms - Emily Prentiss
Smut - the way this fic has been sitting half written in my drafts forever. Go me for finally getting it done. Summary: Emily can't help but approach her ex in a dimly-lit bar wc: 2.1k
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Emily thought that the night would be nice and relaxing for her and the team, celebrating another closed case at their favourite bar, their laughter drowning out the sounds of other people's conversations in the dim-lit restaurant. That was until her eyes locked in on a familiar figure standing near the bar, most definitely accompanied by someone. Emily froze, her hand tightly gripping her drink, and audibly gasped when you turned around, exposing your face to her.
"Y/n?" She whispered, catching Penelope and Derek's attention, who both turned to look at her. "You okay there Prentiss?" But she really wasn't. You were her only partner who ever stayed up waiting for her to come home from a case, genuinely concerned about her. You held her in your arms, letting her just sit there and open up if she wanted to. If she didn't, it didn't bother you, and you showered her with love nonetheless, always managing to pull a smile from her. And you were definitely the best in bed. Having you withering under her, relentlessly crying out her name was an image Emily would never forget.
She regretted leaving you every day, but it would keep you safe. After seeing what Hotch had to go through, she knew it was the smartest decision. Now that you were there though, in person after over a year of being apart, she wouldn't be able to stay away from you. If you would let her that was. She remembered your reaction, how you completely broke down, calling bullshit on her 'keeping you safe' excuse.
"I'm fine." She said, bringing herself out of her trance to take a long sip of her drink. "That an ex of yours?" Derek questioned, looking at you, now talking to a friend. You looked gorgeous, he thought. Your short black dress showed off your long legs and had a low cut to display your biggest weapon, the heels you wore flexing your calf muscles in the nicest way possible. Your stunning smile exposed your white teeth while a hand flipped your hair over your shoulder. He wondered how a dumbass like Emily was able to get you.
Emily's head shot back in your direction when she heard coughing, only to find out it was you, your face now going red as you choked on your drink, your friend, who Emily now realised she knew from when you dated, rubbing your back. Oh no... When the coughing stopped, you immediately looked back at her, confirming your suspicions. She returned your eye contact, awkwardly waving at you before you were suddenly facing away from her, refusing for the interaction to continue, earning a sympathetic look from your friend.
Emily heard a chorus of "Oof" and "Oh"s from the team, who were all cringing at the interaction. "Shut up." Emily groaned, stealing a shot from in front of Derek and downing it. She coughed twice, ignoring Derek's complaints, and turned to Spencer who was now telling them a statistic about exes. "It was actually found that 44% of Americans get back with their exes at some point after breaking up. And that only includes relationships post-break up instead of one night stands, so I'd say your chances are pretty high."
As much as Emily was unimpressed that Reid was giving her dating advice, she found herself walking up to you the minute your friend left, leaving you alone at the bar. Better me than anyone else shooting their shot, she thought. It was only when she stood right next to you that she realised she had no idea what to say and that the entire team was probably watching their interaction. She cleared her throat, muttering a small "Hey." You jumped slightly, rotating on the bar stool to face your ex-girlfriend. Emily expect you to frown, thrown your drink in her face even, but to her shock, you cracked a small smile at her. "Hey Em". "Can I sit?" She asked, shifting her weight from one leg to another.
You nodded, watching her as she sat. She looked different. She had cut her hair into bangs and wore her hair pin straight instead of the loose curls she'd put them in. She wore a low cut black top with black jeans as well as her go to combat boots. You assumed she came here straight from work. When you looked back up at her face, she was still staring at you, her gaze stuck on your thighs. "Um, can I get you a drink or something?" Her head shot up and she shook it "No, I've had enough to drink. Thanks." A long awkward silence followed and you looked over at the table she had come from, watching as all of her friends' heads shot in the opposite direction apart from one of them, still cluelessly observing you.
"I'm sorry - I shouldn't have-" "No!" You cut her off, cheeks going rosy. "Why don't we go for a walk or something?"
That walk led you both to the side of the road, waiting for a taxi as you made small talk, no discussion of going to either of your apartments until you were both sat in the back of the taxi on the way to your flat. Emily's hand rested on your thigh, both of your sides pressed against each other, faces mere inches apart as her free hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to her. You felt your desire for Emily grow, squeezing your thighs together to get any amount of friction.
Emily's eyes caught the movement, smiling slightly as she felt her own core heat up for you. She leaned towards you to look out of the window, pressing her tits up against you as she tried to see how far away you were from the apartment, making small talk while you waited. The second the taxi driver pulled the car over, she was tossing her money at him and following you out of the car, both her hands resting on your hips as you led her into your fancy building and towards the elevator. The second you were in the elevator, pressing the button to the right floor, her hands were wrapping around your waist and she was pressing her lips against the soft skin of your neck.
You grabbed her hand when the elevator doors opened, leading the way to your apartment and frantically opening and shutting the door before you turned around, throwing yourself into Emily's arms. You slammed your lips onto hers, wrapping your arms around her neck as you pressed your body against hers. Her hands were immediately under the skirt of your dress, groping the fat of your ass in her hands. You pulled away from the kiss, muttering "couch" to Emily, who complied, bending down slightly so she could wrap her arms around the back of your legs and picking you up.
You squealed as she walked you over to your big couch, having forgotten about her FBI agent strength. She dropped you on the couch, crawling over you but you pushed her back so she fell flat on her back on the large couch, throwing a leg over her hips to straddle her. She tried sitting up but you pushed her back, kissing her again so she would give in, letting you take control of the kiss. Her hands trailed up your body until they reached your tits and she tugged at the front of your dress, letting them spill out the front of it. You gasped, and she took your shock to her advantage, throwing her hips up into yours and rolling over so she was on top of you.
Her hands were instantly on your tits, pulling and twisting at your nipple, the other one in her mouth. "Em, Emily!" You begged, trying to grind your hips into hers but she wouldn't listen, taking her time kissing all over your body. When she couldn't reach any more skin due to the fabric of your dress, she fully separated from you, ordering you to turn around so she could undo the zipper. So you got up onto your knees, allowing Emily to undo your dress and pull it above your head, before her hands were wandering again, down your stomach and into the skimpy panties you wore.
She moaned into your ear, feeling how wet you were before both her hands were at your hips again and she was tugging you towards her as she fell backwards, landing you in her laps. She welcomed your kisses, tightly gripping your hips as you ground your cunt on her jean-clad skin. Eventually, you got desperate, tugging her shirt up so you could feel underneath it, hungrily reaching for her tits. At your whine, she finishes the job for you, tossing her shirt somewhere in the room before your hands were back behind her, unclasping her bra.
Before you manage to throw yourself onto Emily even further, you feel her hand under your panties, immediately searching for your clit, which she finds in mere seconds. You hear yourself begging for her, struggling to hold yourself above her. Emily's hands manhandle you so your back in pressed against hers, your legs spread in front of you. Her hands begin wandering once more, and she inserts two fingers into your warm core. You cry out, arching your back as Emily continues to suck hickeys onto your neck.
Her unoccupied hand plays with your tits, alternating which one she massages. Your head rests in the crook of her next, trying not to buck your hips into her hand as she continues fingering you. Your chest heaves with each breath you take, and you're too far into pleasure land to think of how much of a mistake you were making. You feel the familiar knot building up in your stomach and whimper, your hands reaching below you to grasp Emily's thigh. Moaning loudly with an arch of your back, you cum on Emily's hand. Emily, who is whispering praises in your ear and brushing your hair out of your face with her free hand.
With the effects of your orgasm now gone and you catching your breath, you begin to internally cringe. Why on earth did you think this was a good idea? You will yourself to turn around in Emily's arms, whispering "Your turn", fully aware that she wouldn't say yes. "No baby, it's okay. This is just about you." You nod, allowing yourself to fall onto the couch beside her. "I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Dragging yourself up from the couch, your legs still shaking, you shut the bathroom door before Emily gets the time to follow you.
You wrap a free towel around your torso, mentally cussing yourself out, thinking of a way to get Emily out of your house. The clock on the wall reads 3:28. It's late. You should go home. Repeating the words to yourself, you open the bathroom door to be met with the tall brunette. She smiles widely, a hand coming to your hip to bring you close and kiss you softly. You return her kiss but can't bring yourself to do the same with a smile. She senses the change in your behaviour and you take that as your chance to tell her: "It's late. You should go." You look down and away from her face so you can't see the way her smile drops. "Right. Um, this was fun." Your hum is enough of an answer to her and you practically chase her to the door once she's fully clothed.
Once the door is shut behind her, you peek through the peep hole to see her bring a hand up to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. She calls someone on the phone, someone you can only imagine was at the table with her at the bar. Listening closely through the door, you hear "No Derek, I did not win her heart back. She's really done with me."
But it's late. You should go sleep.
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wifey-badalee · 2 months
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CLEARLY YOU’D RATHER BE WITH HER
Warnings: angst, mentions of suicide, death, blood
Part 6
Wow, you never thought your life would come to this. You sitting in your bath tub with a razor blade making cuts all along your wrist. Oh yeah and the torture got worse when Alexia’s fanbase got a hold of some information that isn’t the whole story that you attacked Olga and you are ruining her life by making false accusations that she got you attacked by gang members. You were just so fed up with life and so tired, you honestly wanted this all to disappear, you didn’t even want to go to the court and testify instead just let Olga go and you just run away somewhere far away from Alexia and Barcelona as a whole.
As you were sitting in the tub rethinking your entire life you just saw that you had nothing else to live for your reputation and everything is now ruined you could never go back to normal no matter what. Normal was something you desperately needed in your life right now.
That was it, your decision was made, as much as you had loved Alexia , the hate is now equivalent to that Love. You could never forgive her at all. You quickly got out your tub , blood dripping and took a notepad and pen and started to write to alexia, your poured out you love and disappointment, all of it into that note and left it on your bathroom counter. And then it was tour final step you message your best friend how much you loved her and thank you and you ran the razor blade one last time deep and long. All you remember seeing is dark red blood flood your bath tub and you fell into a deep slumber.
The next day everyone had arrived to court. Your best friend had tried getting a hold of you but brushed it off thinking you were nervous and busy getting ready. Alexia was sat beside Olga and her family all holding Olga’s hand in support and telling her everything would be alright. 2 hours had passed and you were still not there, the judge had asked your best friend where you were and she had no answer, she said she call and check where you were but there was no answer. The police then said they would ride down to your house and check if everything was alright and so they did . The scene they were met with was horrifying especially for you best friend, her heart skipped beats not in a good way and she just stood there frozen looking at you body drowned in dark red water. The water was so dark they could barely see your body. Your best friend felt like she had failed you as a friend. She couldn’t she you from Alexia and Olga now she couldn’t save the rest of your life.
Back at the court Alexia and her family saw an officer run up to the judge and say something. They were so curious to know what happened. The judge then stood up and said that the case was being dismissed due to your suicide. Alexia stopped breathing for a minute. She was shocked and didn’t know what to do. She definitely did feel like this was her fault .She thought of the look on your parents faces when they saw their dead daughter she promised to protect. She felt heartbroken and she was mad at herself for feeling that way because she was part of the cause that you were dead. Olga just shook Alexia and told her to snap out of it and then she pulled her out of the court room.
On instinct her body took her to your house, she saw your house filled with cop cars and ambulances and the coroner’s and everything felt so much more real. Your neighbour’s were even crying and standing outside. That’s when the waterworks came and they were flowing, she ran up the stairs to your door and tried to get in but the police stopped her. She tried to fight them to get then to let her in, but that’s when the coroner came out with your body on a bed and a white sheet covering. She just stood frozen as your body was pushed besides her and just then your hand dropped out of the bed and brushed her hand. Weird to say she felt a spark, but that made her feel like a piece of shit, because you were the love of her life and while being with you she ignored you and ending up falling in love with the person you were so insecure about while you were together and now you were gone because of that person. You would still be here if she had just payed attention to you and not let Olga get in the way of things. But that was too late now you were gone.
A police officer came out and gave her the note you left to her saying he found it on your bathroom counter. Even though she felt happy that you were thinking of her in your last moments she felt sad that none of them were good memories just heartbreak. The day went by in a blur alexia was in a complete funk trying to process that you were actually gone but her day was about to get worse when a police officer showed up to her door arresting Olga claiming they had proof she planned all of your attack. One of the gang members had recorded a video of her when she went to meet them for situations like this. Olga tried to give every excuse in the book but she was caught and there was nothing she could do. Alexia felt even more betrayed she was baffled that Olga could do this. Not to mention how shitty alexias mom and sister felt after all they said and did to you and not this. Alexia was disgusted at Olga but mostly at herself for not believing you and saying all those nasty things to you. She should have belive you, you were you , you never lied and never did such malicious things. She wisher she could just turn back time and apologize for everything. She just ran outside to who knows where too just cry and let it all out. She went to the place you two had your first date that made her cry and feel even worse. She just wanted to apologize and ask for forgiveness so badly from you, she regretted it so bad everything thay she did.
Your family had come to Barcelona to claim your body and they were just broken, seeing your dead body there was the last thing they ever thought the would see. No parent should ever have to bury their child, they always thought you would be burying them not the other way around. They were furious at Alexia , they didn’t even want to see her face , they would never forgive her and they wished she would rot in hell along with Olga and they hoped she never got out of jail , she should suffer the worst pain ever.
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clit warming with abby ??? thinking so many thoughts rn
a/n | sorry if this isn't what you wanted!! lol
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tags | abby x reader, smut (barely,) fluff
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The pale of the moonlight kissed your skin, a luminescent ray that glittered across your soft features as you slept, haloing you with angelic luster as you rested in your dream-like state of unconsciousness. Abby thought you looked beautfiul. As she undressed herself, peeling the dirt and bloodsoaked clothes from her body in an uncoordinated, sloppy manner until she was down to her boxers and ribbed tanktop, she knew you looked beautiful, could see it with her own eyes as she struggled to keep her attention on anything but where you slept; sprawled out on the sheets in picturesque beauty.
Thoughts swirled through her mind; all of you.
You danced across the backs of her eyelids each time they drooped closed; blinking away the exhaustion that filled her body. Your smile was permanently etched in Abby's mind as if you were a prophecy of something greater, calmer- something she had always needed.
Now she had you- though, that hadn't necessarily been the case today.
Gone since the moment the sun peeked over the horizon, the only time Abby had seen you the entire day had been in the form of her standing by the bedside, admiring the way your nose twitched and eyebrows creased as you slumbered. She had walked for miles, fought off what had to have been thousands- if not millions- of infected as the seemingly neverending day progressed. One close call after the other, she should have thrown herself right in bed and slept for the next day and a half- and yet, the only thing on her mind the second she stepped through the door was you.
She couldn't help herself.. She was only human.
Roused from your sleep by Abby's calloused- yet always soft- fingertips, she brushed loose hair from your face, strands tickling your skin. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the darkness around you as Abby's burly frame came into view, her silhouette outlined by the celestial crescent looming in the otherwise starless night sky.
"Abs.." You breathed out, you voice soft and groggy with sleep as you reached out for the girl as if acting on pure, not-yet-aware-of-your-surroundings instinct. Any awareness you did possess rested solely in Abby, settling in the muscles of her physical form- one you longed to hold after a day spent apart.
With a groan of relief, Abby fell into you, allowing her tense muscles the limpness they craved. It was almost as if her body let out an audible sound of relief, bones and ligaments under the thickness of her skin sighing dreamily as she nuzzled her pouted face into the crook of your neck. "Hi, pretty.." She drawled, her sleepy-sounding words followed by a kiss to the shell of your.
You shivered in spite of your drowsiness, goosebumps prickling on the surface of your skin at the sweet display of affection- though, you couldn't help the feeling that rose in the pit of your stomach, something stirring inside of you as Abby's body weight pressed into you, her heat fuelling a slowly-burning fire that you had suddenly become aware of. "Missed you, baby," Abby continued, her soft lips brushing against your neck as she spoke, seemingly unaware of the effect she had on you from the moment you opened your eyes to see her standing there.
Maybe she was aware. A small part of her, at least, as she began trailing kisses along the curve of your shoulder, soft noises of contentment spilling from her puckered lips. "D'you hear me? Said I missed you."
Those few words had you realizing you hadn't said a single thing. Your brain had shut down, cut off at the source by the woman who had you caged beneath her, her hands pressed into the mattress on either side of your head as she gazed down at you. "Missed you, too, Abs," You offered as a weak, slurred response, pressing your palms against Abby's chest that was almost flush against your own.
Though hardly visible- the expression drowned out by the droopiness of her sleepy face- a smug smile pulled at Abby's lips. "What you thinkin' about, baby? Hm?" She questioned, a knowing tone to her voice as she exhaled something akin to a chuckle through her nostrils. "Thinkin' about me?"
Thankfully, the blush that immediately flushed to your face was hidden by the darkness that blanketed the room with obsidian-like shades, each adding to the shadows that casted over both yours and Abby's lustful features. "Mhm.." You swallowed down the lump in your throat in order to respond, your own words- or lack thereof- leaving you with a hint of embarrassment that almost made it hard to breathe.
"Well, 'm right here.." She cooed, a hint of amusement laced in her tone. Then, her amusement faded, the blue irises that filled her eyes almost completely morphing into nothing but dilated pupils as she gazed at you with an expression that was almost doe-like, needy as she leaned down to press her face against your sternum. "God, you smell so good.. Feel so good," She all but groaned against you.
It wasn't long until her kisses gave into their desire to explore every inch of your body, pliable in Abby's grasp as she hooked both her left and her right index finger and middle under the elastic of your underwear- your usual sleepwear consisted of one of Abby's shirts and a pair of shorts, but laziness had overcome you this night. "Just wanna feel you, angel." The tone she used was almost begging; begging to feel you, to be skin to skin. To be connected to you at an almost inseparable extent was something she craved more than the air that she breathed. "Let me?"
Who were you to deny her?
That question alone had always led you to where you are now.
Legs spread around each side of Abby's face, she had her mouth connected to you, rosy lips wrapped around your clit in a manner that spread warmth throughout your body. The feeling flooded through your tree-like veins, travelling to a place of contentment that lived inside of you as your fingers glided across the golden ridges of Abby's braid, scratching at her scalp to try and relieve the tenderness beneath the tightly-wound hairstyle.
She was in heaven; soft grunts spilling from her lips with an undeniable tune of tranquility that graced your ears in muffled form. With her arms hooked around the backs of each of your thighs, her hands grabbed and groped the plush fat of your body she was absolutely obsessed with, keeping her mouth to you as if one of you would disappear if she pulled away - either way, it would be absolutely tragic.
You couldn't help the way your hips twitched beneath her. Couldn't help but whimper ever-so-slightly as, for just a tiny fraction of a second, the feeling that throbbed inside you with an insatiable need was sated.
A thin string of saliva stretching from Abby's pouty lips to the sensitive bud of your clit, you whined when she pulled away, fighting away the temptation to dig your fingers into her scalp and pull her back in- somehow you resisted. "Relax, baby.." She slurred, her body limp with the exhaustion that wanted so desperately to take the lead. "Don't get yourself worked up.. Just wanna feel you.." She repeated, relaying the same words she said that had gotten you into this mess in the first place.
With that, Abby nuzzled her face against the inside of your left thigh with a tired sigh- one that, though low, showcased just how happy she was with this situation; to have you with her, to be right where she was always meant to be. She placed a soft kiss on your skin, a smile pulling at her lips as she took you into her mouth once more.
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imaginespazzi · 9 days
Text
Part 5: One Perfect Day
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
Let me photograph you in this light (in case it is the last time that we might be exactly like we were)
(In which a procrastinating writer procrastinates giving her ship happiness)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Pining, Some Fluff
Words: 7.5K
TW: Swearing, Alcohol, Alludes to Sexual Content
A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. As many of you have reminded me it is indeed Friday and so here we are, nobody needs to yell at me! I know I'm years too late with this but I hope y'all like it anyways, even though this is very much mainly hurt with very little comfort. But for things to get better, they have to get worse and remember, it's all for the plot! There's plenty of creative liberty taken this chapter with how hotels and post-championship celebrations work and other logistics but I wrote it how I needed to so just go with it. Did I edit? Yes. Are there typos and errors anyway? Probably. As always, tell me what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a wonderful weekend lovelies!!
March 2019 
The final buzzer echoes through the Williams Arena, and the disappointment of the last couple of years is finally drowned out as the Hopkins Royals win the state championship. Surrounded by the cheers of her teammates, Paige doesn’t know if she’d call this the happiest moment of her life, the stomach flu symptoms haven’t quite faded yet, but she knows it’s definitely on her mount rushmore of times when life was great. 
For a second, as she’d been crouched over the toilet with Azzi’s hands soothingly rubbing her back, feeling her soul leave with the remnants of last night's dinner, Paige had almost lost hope. But she’d never been taught to give up without a fight. And so it hadn’t mattered that she definitely looked a little green or that standing up was taking twice the energy it normally did, Paige was going to play today. It hadn’t been a flashy scoring night but she’d done everything else her team needed. And as that lead had built and built and built, Paige knew, the moment was still hers. 
“Paigeyyyyy,” Drew is the first one to find her after her and her teammates break apart, launching his tiny body into her legs, “you won!”
Paige laughs, lifting her brother into her arms and spinning him around, “I told you I was gonna didn’t I?”
One by one, her whole family, the epitome of a modern family, pull her into hugs and then they gather into one large group hug, with Paige at the centre of it all. Her siblings look at her with pure admiration while her parent’s eyes are filled with pride. And it fulfils that part of Paige that has always lived a little more for her family than for herself. 
As her family moves away slowly, Paige finds herself face to face with Azzi’s shining smile and her heart skips a beat. And she doesn’t really know when it started or even how really, but it gets a little more difficult every time she sees Azzi, for Paige to convince herself that that fluttering in her chest is nothing. 
“You look a little pale white girl,” Azzi teases, taking a couple of steps towards the blonde, “glad you didn’t vomit all over the floor.”
“Nah no bullshit flu is stopping Paige Bueckers. The flu is scared of me,” Paige juts out her chest with a smirk, earning her a patented eye roll from the younger girl. 
“Oh yeah, you’re real scary,” Azzi indulges before pulling Paige into a bone-crushing hug, “I’m proud of you P.”
Paige smiles into the crook of Azzi’s neck, basking in the glow of the compliment. It’s these little moments they have in between their constant banter, where they let themselves be each other’s biggest cheerleaders, that makes them Paige and Azzi. They pull away, still grinning. and Paige’s eyes roam over the Team Paige jersey framing Azzi’s body. It makes her feel some type of way to see the younger girl wearing her name across her chest, but it’s not a feeling Paige is quite ready to accept. Perhaps it’s been written in their destiny that someday things will change, that eventually they’ll both have to confront the something more that’s simmering underneath it all, but for now, Paige just wants to protect what they already have. 
“That’s a pretty jersey,” she says with a wink, fingers rushing over the soft material. 
“I was forced at gunpoint to wear it,” Azzi sighs dramatically, “I was actually cheering for Stillwater. Their pg’s kinda cute.”
Paige bristles at the comment, the queasiness from this morning returning with vengeance, “she’s mid as hell on and off the court.”
“Don’t be petty Paige. You think she’d let me wear her jersey instead?” 
“You know what,” Paige fights a losing battle with the quick surge of anger that’s taking birth in her stomach, “how about you take off my winner’s jersey and go to the loser’s locker room and beg for her jersey instead.”
She knows Azzi’s joking, knows the point guard on the other team isn’t even really Azzi’s type, knows that even if Azzi’s being serious, Paige doesn’t have a right to feel this way. But that green eyed monster is clawing at her heart, squeezing it and making it hard to breathe. 
“Oh- hey hey hey,” Azzi’s quick to grab at her when Paige tries to storm off, “chill dude. You know I’m just kidding.”
“Well it wasn’t funny,” Paige pouts, aware that she’s being unnecessarily childish. 
Azzi opens her mouth, about to make some smartass quip but there must be something about how genuinely frustrated Paige looks that softens her expression, “I came to watch you P. I have no idea what that other girl was doing. I was cheering for you the whole time.”
“You’re so sappy,” Paige snorts, throwing a handful of confetti at Azzi, but inside, the ice cold jealousy melts into something warm and lovely, spreading through her heart into her veins. 
“Can’t even say nice shit without you being a dick about it,” Azzi rolls her eyes, as she links her arms through Paige’s,  “now come on, let’s go celebrate you.”
***
It’s almost 2 a.m. when Paige’s teammates finally begin to filter out of her house, leaving with droopy eyes and tired smiles. She and Azzi stand in the doorway, waving goodbye to every last one of them and it feels a little domestic, like a couple after a dinner party. Paige shakes that thought away the minute it begins to form, forcing herself to ignore the burst of wouldn’t that be lovely that blooms in her chest.
“What if I just fell asleep here?” Paige sags against the doorframe. 
“You’d probably fall flat on your face and I’d get an epic video of it.”
“You’re so fucking mean to me.”
“Oh yeah right because you’re so nice to me.”
“Am to,” Paige retorts, before she makes grabby hands towards Azzi, “carry me?”
Azzi swats her hands away, “Absolutely not lazy, it’s one flight of stairs.”
“That’s like 20 steps,” Paige whines. To be honest, she’s not that tired. Out of the two of them, she’s probably closer to being a night owl. But Paige is nothing if not a little bit of nuisance, especially when it comes to Azzi. 
“Are you an athlete or not,” Azzi chides, rolling her eyes. 
“Bro I just won a championship AND I had the flu. And you won’t even carry me? What kind of best friend are you?”
“Paige.”
“Azziiiiii.”
“Paige I’m tired.”
“Pleeeeeaseeee.”
The younger girl sighs, a sign of her caving in, before turning around so her back is facing Paige's front, “fine, get on you big baby.”
“YES-”
“Dude shut up, you’re gonna wake everybody up,” Azzi groans, always the responsible one. 
“Sorry, sorry,” Paige whispers as she jumps onto Azzi’s back, the force of it causing the brunette to take a couple steps forward, “fucking hell Azzi don’t drop me.”
Azzi lets out an indignant squawk, as she regains her balance,  “with that attitude, I should drop you.”
“If you’re too weak to carry me, just say that,” Paige teases, wrapping her legs firmly around Azzi’s torso.  She buries her shit-eating grin in her best friend’s neck, as she loops her arms around Azzi’s shoulders.
“It is not my fault you’ve put on like a hundred pounds since I last saw you.”
Azzi squeals when Paige pinches at her ribcage and the blonde immediately slaps a hand on her best friend’s mouth, “what happened to being quiet? Now, onwards horsey- OW! Did you just fucking bite my hand!?”
“What happened to being quiet?” Azzi mocks, adjusting Paige’s weight on her back as she begins to walk towards the staircase, grumbling something under her breath about ‘ungrateful best friends’ but Paige knows she doesn’t mean a word of it. She snuggles further into Azzi’s neck, letting herself breathe in the scent of the younger girl. 
When Azzi had first left Minnesota, after they’d spent every second since the plane ride back from Argentina, Paige had thought that that hollowness in her chest was temporary, that it would fade once she got back into daily life. It didn’t. And the thing is the word miss had existed in Paige’s dictionary before too but she doesn’t think she really understood what it meant til she started to miss Azzi. 
As soon as they reach Paige’s bedroom, Azzi’s already swatting Paige off her back. The blonde falls back onto the pillows on her bed with a content sigh, watching with a cheeky grin as Azzi pretends to stretch out the muscles on her back and her arms.
“I think that might have broke my fucking back,” the younger girl groan, face scrunching up in mock exhaustion, “and I have to sit on a plane again tomorrow.”
That wipes the smile straight off Paige's face. It’s so easy to get lost in the moment with Azzi, so easy to forget that they spend less time together than they do apart. They haven’t bothered with the actual lights but even in the dim glow of the moon through Paige’s windows, Azzi sees her best friend’s change in expression clearly, her own face becoming melancholic. Sighing, she climbs onto the bed herself and lies down next to Paige, intertwining her hands with the older girl’s. 
“You could stay a little longer,” Paige says after a moment, eyes resolutely focused on the ceiling. 
Azzi let out a wistful sigh, “I wish. But you know I can’t.”
“You can, you just won’t, little miss goody-two-shoes,” the light-hearted teasing eases some of the mood as they both let out soft giggles. They dissolve into a comfortable silence before, “I can’t wait til we’re playing for UConn together.”
Paige misses the way Azzi stiffens a little next to her, too enthralled with imagining a future where she and her best friend could conquer the world together. She knows Azzi, with all her indecisive tendencies, hasn’t quite come around to being anywhere near ready to pick a college team yet but Paige still has time to convince her and Paige Bueckers is nothing if not persuasive. 
“So it’s definitely UConn then?” 
“Yeah. I mean it’s UConn dude. The UConn. They’re the best. All these other programs are nice but when UConn calls, you don’t say no to that shit,” and Paige means that with all her heart. As the number one recruit in her class, there had been no shortage of offers and of course Paige had entertained them for a little while. But the minute Geno Auriemma had given his offer, everything else had become obsolete. She hadn’t committed yet, still maintaining a façade of being in the decision stage, but all of that was just a front. Paige knows she’s meant to be a UConn husky, there’s no way around it. 
“I think you’ll make a pretty damn good Husky,” Azzi says with a soft smile, as she absentmindedly plays with Paige’s fingers. 
“We’ll make damn good Huskies,” Paige affirms. 
“I don’t know P, California’s pretty tempting,” it’s said teasingly but a hint of seriousness slips through the cracks anyway. 
Paige scoffs, “cause it’s hot? Bruh that much heat would be boring. Connecticut gets all four seasons. We’d get the heat and the snow.”
“I get all of that in Virginia already,” Azzi points out with a huff, “maybe I want something different.”
“You do get something different. You get to play with me. That’s different.”
“Yeah but-”
“Dude why are you fighting me on this? Do you not want to be on the same team as me or something?” Paige asks agitatedly, suddenly feeling frustrated with the turn the conversation had taken. 
“Okay breathe,” Azzi gives her a stern side-eye, “I was just saying California’s nice. Of course I want to be on your team. Did the shirt not make that obvious?”
Involuntarily, Paige has to smile at the memory of Azzi’s jersey, the team Paige that had been loudly imprinted across her chest, “right, sorry got a little carried away. I just always want you on my team, you know?”
“I’m always on Team Paige. I always have been. I always will be,” Azzi says firmly, as if it’s the most obvious truth in the world.  
When Paige turns her head to look at her best friend, the younger girl is already looking back at her and the sincerity in Azzi’s eyes makes Paige’s heart stutter. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige swears she can see every little detail in the dim light. And the thing is Paige has always known Azzi’s a pretty girl, she’s not blind. But it’s different tonight. Tonight Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that Paige wants to memorise until it’s imprinted in the back of her eyelids, the kind of beautiful that she wants to lock away in a treasure chest and preserve only for her own eyes to ever see again. The kind of beautiful that Paige knows she isn’t allowed to think of Azzi as. But still, right now, Azzi’s the kind of beautiful that makes Paige want to try and see if maybe, just maybe, there’s the possibility for something more. 
That night, when she finally falls asleep to the sound of her best friend’s quiet breathing, Paige dreams of UConn and championships and at the end of it all, kissing Azzi under the confetti. 
***
April 2024
There’s 14 seconds left in the National Championship game and UConn is ahead by eight points. Adrenaline courses through Paige’s veins as that one elusive dream of hers seems to finally be coming closer and closer to fruition. Winning a National Championship had been on her mind since she’d first picked up a basketball. The minute she’d committed to UConn, it had felt inevitable and yet year after year, her team had fallen just a little short. But this afternoon, it seems like it’s finally within grasp. 14 seconds to go. 14 steps closer to having her perfect moment. 
Except, every time Paige had imagined this moment, she’d expected her best friend to be there. In the beginning, before everything, she’d dreamed of them being on the court together, running into each other’s arms the minute the buzzer sounded. And then, until the last second today before she had to take the court, Paige had just assumed that when she’d look in the stands, somewhere in the crowd, there’d be the one face she wanted to see most in the world. But no matter how much she squinted, that face had been nowhere to be found and Paige had forced herself to compartmentalise her disappointment, and focus on the game. She hadn’t looked at the crowd since. 
The ball is in the other team’s hands, their point guard, diligently calling out plays before she inbounds it. Coach’s words echo in Paige’s head, try for a clean steal but don’t under any circumstances foul. Their pg inbounds the ball and the shot clock starts to count down. The ball bounces through the hands of different players on the other team but the UConn defence is stifling. Their coach is out of timeouts and it isn’t until the last millisecond that they heave up a prayer shot. And it doesn’t matter if it goes in, it’s a two point possession game, but Paige’s eyes are glued on the basketball anyways. 
The shot is an airball. The buzzer sounds through the arena. UConn wins their 12th national championship. 
For a second, everything goes silent around Paige. The normally over-excitable girl, known for her insane golden retriever energy, is perfectly still. It takes a couple more seconds for the adrenaline to hit. And then she’s screaming, pummeling her body into the rest of her teammates as the bleed blue crowd goes wild. She loses herself in the noise of her teammates cheering and the bright lights of cameras flashing nearby. They did it. And it doesn’t erase just how fucking hard the last couple of year had been, but it makes the burden significantly lighter. 
Paige rushes through the handshake line, the opposing team’s coach giving her an appreciative review of her performance before she’s recaptured into a group hug by her teammates. It’s a surreal feeling really, one that’s far better than even her most wonderful dreams. For the first time since the game began, Paige lets her gaze wander over to the family section who are all tearfully hugging, smiling at her parents and then her siblings and then- 
When her eyes meet Azzi’s, it’s like the last piece of the puzzle has finally settled into its rightful place, completing the perfect picture of Paige’s perfect moment. A #5 UConn jersey hangs loosely against Azzi’s hips as she smiles shyly at her best friend. And Paige is scared to blink, scared if she looks away, the girl in front of her will disappear. It takes everything in her to not rush into the stands, pull her best friend into her and kiss her under the confetti. 
Azzi doesn’t budge when the rest of the family and friends crew start to move towards the court. There’s too much attention, too much media, for that to be a feasible option. Paige wishes they would all just disappear, let her have her moment the exact way she’d pictured it. She thinks she’d like to fulfil that dream of hers, kiss Azzi in the confetti, twirl her around, and between it all, let the world know that she was Paige’s. 
As always, Drew is the first person to reach her. He’s a little too big for her to pick up, but she spins him around anyway. 
“You won Paigey,” her little brother squeals and he might be older now, but that innocent admiration of his older sister is as palpable as always, “I knew you could do it!”
“Thanks for always believing in me, little dude,” Paige says softly, leaning her cheek against the top of Drew’s head.
Over the top of her brother's head, Paige realises with sudden panic that Azzi’s not there anymore. Dread filters into her bloodstream, the voices in her head screaming it was too good to be true. The way her body tenses doesn’t go unnoticed by her mother who’s quick to hold her. 
“She said to tell you she’d see you at the hotel later,” Amy Jo says with a knowing smile, before letting Paige’s body sag into hers. She rubs her daughter’s back as relief settles into the younger girl's features, “proud of you Paigey.”
Paige smiles into her mother’s chest. Last year had been the hardest of her life and for a while the light at the end of the tunnel had been hard to see. Today, she feels the light surrounding her, washing away all the darkness from the last few years, bathing her in the glow of happiness. 
***
“I always knew you’d look good in a UConn jersey.”
Azzi’s eyes fly open and Paige smirks, leaning her body against the wall. The last couple of hours had been a whirlwind of media, champagne and excited chatter about what the after party would be like. Paige’s focus had been on celebrating, but the thought of getting back to Azzi had been a constantly lingering presence in the back of her mind. And as the bus had gotten closer to the hotel, anxiety had creeped in because what if Azzi wasn’t there? What if she’d changed her mind? 
Paige had smiled for the fans outside the hotel, diligently posing for pictures and signing autographs, ignoring the heaviness in heart. But as soon as she was far away from prying eyes, she was bolting towards her room. And then everything was okay. Paige has heard a lot of cliché things about love, about how it makes you hear violins and see stars and all of that, about how it increases your heart rate and makes you flush. But Paige thinks all of that can’t quite be right. Because when she’d seen Azzi, curled up in her sheets, #5 jersey crumpled but still fitted around her body, Paige had only felt a sense of calm. And that Paige thinks, is probably the actual truth of love, it’s about finding peace and to Paige, Azzi has always been her peace. 
“I’d look great in any jersey,” Azzi claps back groggily, moving to sit up. 
“But you look the best in mine. You always have,” Paige tries to keep her voice teasing, but it comes out sounding rather wistful, and the next words are even softer, “you came.”
Azzi bites her lips, looking down at her fiddling thumbs, “you asked me to.”
Those four little words carve themselves into a little crevice in Paige’s heart as if they’ll stay there forever, as if they’ll echo through her entire body for the rest of time. She practically throws herself onto the younger girl, the force of it pushing Azzi back down into the pillows, as she buries her head in the crook of Azzi’s neck. Their legs slot together of their own accord and it’s a little bit like they’re trying to meld into each other’s skin the way they press themselves as close as possible, til there’s barely space for air in between them. They lie like that for god knows how long; it goes by in a rush and yet ever so slowly. 
“I’m really fucking happy you’re here,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s skin, “really fucking happy.”
Azzi doesn’t say anything, humming into Paige’s hair as she tightens her grip on the blonde’s waist but Paige can tell by the way she stiffens underneath her, that Azzi’s holding herself back from something. Her heart hammers in her chest as she lifts her face from Azzi’s neck to inspect the younger girl’s face. 
“What aren’t you saying to me Az?” she whispers quietly with a sinking feeling.
“Paige,” Azzi closes her eyes. And just that is enough for Paige to understand exactly what’s going through her best friend’s head and suddenly she wishes she’d never asked, just let them have this moment. 
“Never mind, I don't want to hear it.”
“That’s not how that works. I- I wanted to wait a little but we- we need to talk.”
“No we don’t,” Paige retorts stubbornly, fighting the tears threatening to spill, “I don’t want to.”
“Paige-”
The girl in question pushes herself off of Azzi, rising to sit on her knees, “this is meant to be the best day of my life Azzi.”
“I know- I’m sorr-”
“What game are you playing, Azzi? Why even fucking come if you were never gonna stay?” Paige spits out. 
“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” Azzi says softly, as she sits up “maybe- maybe I should have stayed away. But it’s you Paige, it’s you and I- I’ve never been that good at staying away from you. And maybe I’m just really selfish but I- I told you once that I wanted to be there when your dreams came true and so- here I am.”
They’d barely known each other when Azzi had said that, when they had just been young innocent girls with a tentative friendship, lying in the grass and sharing their dreams. Back then, the words had thrown Paige off. She hadn’t quite understood why they had meant that much to her, why they had filled her with more warmth than the sun shining above them. But she’d tucked them away in a little corner of her heart hoping she’d understand it better when she was older. She’s older now and she understands. Except every single emotion she’d felt at fifteen is heightened with the realisation that the words had meant something to Azzi too. And-
Paige surges forward to kiss Azzi. She’s pretty sure this bipolar act of theirs will be the death of them someday but it’s the only thing in the moment that makes sense. Azzi is hesitant at first, clearly too in her head, always the overthinker, but she gives in when Paige squeezes at her waist. It’s not as if they’ve kissed that many times before but it feels familiar, a little bit like coming home. She moves to straddle Azzi’s hips and they can’t get any closer really with every bit of their bodies pressed together now, but Paige tries anyways, tries to etch please don’t leave me into the other girl’s skin. And she isn’t sure if the salt she can taste is from the tears steadily streaming from Azzi’s eyes or the ones free-falling from her own. 
The minute Azzi pulls away, Paige misses her. 
“We can’t-”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Paige cuts Azzi off immediately, resting her forehead against the younger girl’s, “please.”
“Paige,” Azzi breathes out, “I have to go.”
“No you don’t,” Paige says stubbornly. 
“Paige please-”
“Stay- fuck please- Azzi- just give me tonight. Tomorrow we can talk and you can-,” Paige swallows, not wanting to say leave out loud, “but please- tonight can we just pretend? Can you give me that? Fuck- can I just have tonight? Please- just- stay.”
Azzi lets out a shaky breath, “it won’t make it hurt less.”
“I know- fuck- I know but I just don’t want it to hurt right now.”
“Okay,” Azzi whispers slowly, thumb caressing Paige’s wet eyelashes, “okay, I’ll stay tonight.”
Paige kisses her again. 
***
The UConn team falls in love with Azzi in a matter of hours. No one had been shocked when Paige had shown up to the after party a.k.a everybody gathering at the hotel bar, fashionably late and with a nervous Azzi teetering behind her. It had been awkward at first; everyone was a little unsure of how to act around the new presence. Not only was Azzi from a rival team, but everyone was at least a little aware of her tumultuous relationship with their star player. But then KK had wanted to film a tiktok that needed someone to do random camerawork and when everybody else had groaned, Azzi had quietly volunteered. Much to KK’s delight, Azzi turned out to be quite the cameraman. And that apparently was all that was needed and Paige marvels at the way Azzi just fits.
She moves around Paige’s team as if they’re just as much hers. One second she’s timing some stupid drinking game that KK and Ice are playing, the next she’s sitting in a corner laughing with a more subdued Ash and Q. 
Aubrey and Ayanna gush over their girlfriend and Azzi’s coos over their pictures, a hint of wistfulness on her face when she meets Paige’s eyes. 
The team does their routine of teasing Aaliyah’s about being vegetarian and Azzi diligently backs the Canadian up with a spiel of how tofu isn’t actually that bad. That gets her a hi-5 from Aaliyah despite the eye rolls from the rest of the team. 
Despite being a little tipsy from having been dragged into doing shots with Amari and Carol, the two other people she knows pretty well, Azzi diligently lets Inés and Jana teach her little bits of Portuguese and Egyptian. 
Even Nika sheds her frostiness, amused by Azzi’s curiosity to learn her native language beyond just the curse words, and teaches the younger girl a couple of words. Azzi rolls her eyes fondly when she realises she’s been taught to say UConn is the best team ever in Croatian and amidst Nika’s laughter, Paige knows is a hidden acceptance. 
But the best part of it is that although Azzi’s suddenly being pulled in all different directions by various UConn girls, she never really leaves Paige’s side through it all. There’s always a little bit of them touching, whether it’s their shoulders or their knees, even when they’re both involved in completely different conversations and activities. It feels oddly domestic and Paige is reminded of the part after her state championship all over again. The burst of i want this forever that stirs in her chest makes her want to sob because it collides head first against a wall of this is only for tonight. And Paige knows that one night won’t ever be enough for her. 
“Aye Paige’s girl, come play truth or shots with,” KK’s loud voice breaks through Paige’s cloud of distress and it’s eclipsed by the implication of those two words. 
Paige’s girl. The phrases makes itself home in Paige’s heart, sounding so fucking right. She hasn’t let herself acknowledge it truly ever but that’s how it’s always been in Paige’s mind. It’s how she’s always thought of Azzi. As hers. Her Azzi. Her girl. 
“I’m not-that’s not-” Azzi’s cheeks are tinted pink as she stutters through her words, withering under KK’s cocked eyebrow. 
“Uh-okay if you say so,” KK rolls her eyes, holding her hands up in a sarcastic defensive position, “guess we’re starting off truth or shots by lying.”
The rest of the team laughs as Azzi’s blush grows even deeper and Paige can’t even try and hide her smile, her own neck tingling a little bit as she tucks herself into Azzi’s side. And it’s not real, they’re not anything, but in this moment it feels a little bit like they’re everything. 
“You guys are sickening,” Ice accuses when she notices the two of them cheesily smiling at each other, “it makes me gag.”
“They’re cute. Leave them alone,” Caroline chastises, ever the supportive friend. 
Azzi leans back against Paige’s arm as the group goes around the circle, asking each other ridiculous questions, cheering like little kids when their teammates opts to drink instead of answering a vaguely invasive question. When it’s her turn, Paige can already tell by the glint in KK’s eyes that her menace mini-me is about to cause trouble. 
“Paigey cakes, when’s the last time you had sex?”
Next to her, Paige can feel Azzi stiffen immediately. The shot feels heavy in Paige’s hand as she seriously contemplates taking it. She knows why KK asked the question, probably having concocted some idea of exposing Paige and Azzi. She’d known by the waggling eyebrows that the whole team had thought the two of them were late because they’d been fucking but that couldn’t be further from the bitter truth. 
Paige chances a look at Azzi’s face as she bites down on her lips. The younger girl’s face is stoically devoid of any emotion and Paige knows she’s thinking about the night of the crash (or as Paige likes to call it, the most terrifying night of her life) except- 
“November, last year,” Paige says slowly and Azzi whips her face around to look at her, lips falling apart in shock. 
“Don’t play, there’s no fucking way,” Ice guffaws and Paige shrugs. 
“It’s the truth.”
“Bruh what the fuck,” KK looks a little shell-shocked, “how the fuck did you survive that long?”
“Some of us actually know what to do with our own fingers,” Paige quips defensively, trying to ignore the butterflies dancing in her stomach at the way Azzi’s still looking at her. 
“I bet Azzi knows all about your fingers huh Azzi?” and even that, KK’s unhinged commentary, isn’t enough to get Azzi to pull her gaze away from Paige. It’s almost as if she hadn’t heard it all. 
“You didn’t- that night?” Azzi manages to get out. 
“Couldn’t do it,” Paige mumbles, “she wasn’t you.”
Despite the horde of people around them, they’re in their own little bubble now. There are a multitude of questions swimming in Azzi’s eyes and Paige wants to answer all of them if it means that maybe just maybe, she could prevent the inevitable misery tomorrow would bring. 
“Okay Azzi, it’s your turn,” Amari’s voice draws Azzi’s attention away and Paige feels cold without the heat of it. She doesn’t know how she’ll survive tomorrow. Living in the present isn’t working and Paige finds herself already feeling the emptiness she knows will become her reality in a couple of hours. Her fingers tap an incessant pattern on her thigh as she tries to keep her focus on the game, 
Azzi swallows nervously before mustering up a grin with false confidence, “I’m ready. Hit me with your best, I’m not drinking.”
“We’ll see about that,” KK smirks, diabolically rubbing her hands together, before she turns to Nika, “all yours Nik-Nik.”
The other girls “ooh”, knowing  Nika’s reputation for being notoriously good at this game. The Croatian grins at Azzi, as she sits up from where she’d been lazily lying on the love seat, a glint of mischief in her eyes. And then her eyes meet the forlorn ones of her twin and something shifts. When she looks back at Azzi, there’s a more serious look on Nika’s face. 
“Have you ever been in love?”
There’s pin drop silence once the gravity of the question registers. The light-hearted air in the room is replaced with anticipation, as all of Paige’s teammates look back and forth between their point guard and her best friend. Paige isn’t sure if she wants to know the answer, doesn’t know if there’s an answer that wouldn’t break her heart just a little bit. For a second, it looks like Azzi’s going to drink until she puts the shot down on her hand rest until- 
“Yes,” she confesses in a whisper, and Paige feels her heart begin to race, “I have.”
“How many times?” Nika prods
“That’s not how the game works. I already answered your question.”
“Different rules for newcomers,” Nika shrugs. It’s a blatant lie but nobody says anything. Paige is still caught up in her own head and the other girls won't challenge Nika, not when they’re just as curious, “I get to ask questions til you drink.”
Azzi narrows her eyes, knowing it’s all bullshit and maybe if she wasn’t a little bit tipsy and competitive, maybe if she couldn’t feel every inch of Paige’s side pressed against her, she’d walk away but she can’t. 
“Only once,” she answers. 
“With your ex-girlfriend?” Nika asks. The way she raises an eyebrow suggests there’s only one right answer to the question. Paige doesn’t know if there’s a right or wrong answer, only that there’s an answer that would shatter her. 
“No. I was never in love with her,” Azzi directs the answer towards Nika, but everyone knows it’s meant for Paige’s ears. And despite the tornado still roaring in her body, the blonde lets out a sigh of relief. 
Nika’s intimidating demeanour cracks a little bit when that answer makes her smile, “are you in love with someone right now?”
Even if it’s not said out loud, the implication of Nika’s question, the someone, is clear. And suddenly Paige doesn’t want to hear the answer, not right now, not when they’re both a little tipsy, not when they’re surrounded by all her teammates, not when their future is so unclear. 
“Drink,” Paige cuts in, holding the shot in front of Azzi, “don’t answer it.”
“Paige-”
“Drink Azzi,” Paige says firmly. 
Azzi looks equal parts relieved and frustrated as she downs the drink, happy to have gotten out of the uncomfortable round of questioning but a little annoyed at losing in front of the UConn girls. 
“And you said you wouldn’t drink,” Nika sneers, as she hi-5’s her teammates. 
“Because you bent the rules; she did great,” Paige defends immediately and everyone snickers, the mood in the room returning to something more casual.
“So fucking pussywhipped,” Ice teases. 
“Shut up,” Paige whines, hiding her face against Azzi’s shoulder as everybody else laughs. If the voices in head screaming this is just for tonight would shut up for a second, Paige thinks maybe she could fall in love with this moment, surrounded by her found family. 
It’s almost 3 am when the team decides maybe they should start going to bed, knowing they have a morning flight back to Connecticut. Everyone else is still in a jovial mood, sufficiently drunk of both alcohol and the high of a championship but Paige’s stomach pools with dread. Every minute is a step closer to a goodbye, she’ll never be prepared to say. 
They get to the lobby of the hotel when Paige turns to Azzi, ignoring her anxiety to be a nuisance instead. 
“No,” Azzi says immediately when she sees Paige making grabby hands at her, “there’s literally an elevator Paige.”
“So? That just makes it easier for you. This is tradition.”
“In what world is this a tradition?” Azzi sighs exasperatedly. 
“Since I won the state championship,” Paige grins, “pleeeeease, I’m tired, my feet hurt.”
Azzi gives her an unimpressed look, “you’ve been sitting for the last couple of hours.”
“And before that I was winning a championship, after beating your team by the way,” Paige’s smirk widens when Azzi guffaws at catching a stray. 
“Oh fuck off. Reminding me of that is not the way to get me to carry you by the way.”
“C’mon Az, you know you’re gonna give in anyway. You know you wanna sleep, stop wasting time.”
Azzi rolls her eyes with a dramatic sight before doing exactly what she always does, giving into Paige, “hop on then you big baby.”
Paige cheers, latching on Azzi’s back as her knees circle around the other girl’s waist. Unlike when they were younger, Azzi’s doesn’t stumble anymore at the additional weight. She’s stronger now, completely solid and steady underneath Paige and that absolutely doesn’t trigger any inappropriate thoughts in the older girl’s brains, absolutely. 
“Y’all are so cringe,” KK crinkles up her face when she turns to look at them as they wait for the elevator, but there’s a certain amount of fondness in her voice, “but Azzi’s cool. Much cooler than you P boogers. You should bring her around more often.”
Paige’s smile vanishes in tandem with Azzi letting out a strangled noise. KK looks between the two of them, slowly realising maybe she’d just put her foot in her mouth. 
“Yeah, maybe,” Paige answers noncommittally, trying to keep her voice steady. 
Much to her relief, the elevator dings open, saving her from having to say anything more. She wraps her arms tighter around Azzi, burying her face as far into the other girl’s neck as she can and closing her eyes, trying to lose herself in Azzi, instead of in the jail of her own mind.
She doesn’t look up from where she’s nestled into Azzi’s skin, when the rest of her teammates start towards their own separate rooms, telling Azzi how lovely it was to meet her. 
“Can you get off her back, so I can give her a hug?” Ice pinches Paige’s arm but the older girl just shrugs her off. 
“No. Go hug someone else.”
“Bro you’re so fucking annoying,” Ice groans and Azzi sends her an apologetic wink but it doesn’t go unnoticed that she doesn’t try to shake Paige off like she normally would. It heals something in Paige to know that Azzi doesn’t want to let go either. And she doesn’t understand why they’re doing this, why they’re fighting this, when neither of them want to. 
“I think your teammates might like me better than you,” Azzi teases when they finally get back to the room and Paige climbs off of her back. The blonde is too lost in her thoughts to come back with a smart quip. And of course her best friend notices it immediately, nudging her quietly, “P? You good?”
Paige blinks up at Azzi, and even before she says the word, she knows Azzi’s already read them in her eyes, “I don’t want you to go.”
“Paige,” Azzi sighs tiredly, “what happened to pretending tonight?”
“Fuck pretending,” Paige blames the alcohol for how loud her voice comes out, guilty only because it makes the girl in front of her flinch, “I don’t want just tonight. It’s no where near fucking enough. I want forever. With you.”
“That’s not- Paige- we live on different sides of the country.”
“For now, but we can make it work. It’s us,” Paige pleads desperately. 
Azzi scoffs, stepping away from Paige, “you say that like it a good thing.”
“What-”
“Us! We don’t- it’s not- being ‘us’ is not a good thing Paige. May us from before but us now? Us now is complicated and messy and hard and I just- I can’t do this Paige.”
“You can- we can- Azzi- just- think about it okay- sleep on it- you’ll see. You’ll see, I’m right.”
Azzi shakes her head, closing her eyes as a single teardrop leaks out, “you’re making this so fucking hard Paige.”
“I don’t want to- I’m sorry- I’m so sorry baby,” the term of endearment slips through Paige’s lips before she can catch it, “but I need you to think about it once please.”
She moves to cup Azzi’s cheeks, thumb caressing away the tears, “please.”
“Okay, okay,” Azzi nods, resting her forehead against Paige’s, “I’ll think about it.”
They’re quiet as they get changed for bed, thinking about the same thing. Co-existing together comes naturally to them after years of inhabiting each other’s space and the. there's no getting in each other’s way, even if they’re both dead silent. It’s awkward when they finally get into bed, both of them lying on their back, resolutely staring up at the ceiling. Paige is the first one to move, turning onto her side so she can face Azzi. The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige thinks that so much has changed, but Azzi’s still that kind of beautiful, the same kind of beautiful Paige had thought of her as since the state championship. 
“What was your answer going to be,” she asks quietly. 
“To what?”
“To Nika’s question. Are you in love with someone right now?”
Azzi hesitates a little bit, before turning her own body to face Paige, “you know the answer Paige, you don’t need me to say it.”
Paige doesn’t prod, knowing they were too volatile for her to keep pushing. Instead she reaches over to intertwine their hands together. 
“Do you know what my answer would have been?”
“Yeah,” Azzi says softly, squeezing her hands, “yeah I do.”
Maybe there’s peace in knowing. Or maybe there’s only more pain. Paige doesn’t know if the truth sets her free, doesn’t know if she could ever even be set free from the shackles that bind her to Azzi, doesn’t think she even wants to be set free. But at least Azzi knows too. Maybe there’s peace in drowning together. 
***
Paige wakes up in a panic when she reaches over and finds the other side of the bed empty. She gets up with a jolt, eyes frantically searching for Azzi, until they finally land on the girl sitting on the couch next to the bed. 
“Fuck,” Paige’s voice is still wracked with sleep, “I thought you left.”
“That’s more your style,” Azzi says and Paige flinches at the reminder, “how’d you sleep?”
“Pretty good. How about you?”
“Pretty shit actually” Azzi admits, “I woke up every two seconds, scared you’d be gone.”
“Az-”
“You asked me to believe in you- to believe in us and I-” Azzi draws in a sharp breath and Paige knows she’s not going to like where this is going, “I want to- I really, really, wish I could. But I don’t. I can’t- I can’t be with you Paige- not when I’m scared you’re going to break my heart every second.”
“Azzi,” Paige scrambles across the bed, stopping when the girl in question holds her hands up. Everything in her feels like it’s on fire. There are no burn marks on her skin but she swears she’s been turned to ashes underneath. 
“And you deserve better than that too Paige. You deserve someone who- who’s not scared. Who can give you all of herself without- without holding back and I- I can’t do that.”
“You can- fuck- Azzi you can- please,” desperation leaks through every syllable as Paige fights what she knows is a losing battle. 
“Not right now. Too much has happened between us and we can’t- we can’t just ignore all of that and start something new- maybe someday- but not right now.”
Azzi stands up from her seat, hesitantly walking over to Paige’s side of the bed. She cups Paige’s face, watery dark brown eyes meeting crystal blue ones that are glistening with tears. 
“Azzi please,” Paige begs, feeling everything slip away before she’d even had a chance to fight for it. 
Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s forehead, holding them there for what feels like the briefest of seconds until she’s pulling away, “I’m sorry P.”
And then she’s gone and every part of Paige’s heart is gone with her. 
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flowersforvi · 1 month
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thinking about hockey player!abby...seeing her with her hair down after she showers after practice GAH i wanna tell her how pretty she is
ohmy god this awakened something in me.
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imagine hockey player abby coming home from a game— one of the only games you had to miss because of work. she looks so tired and drained as she walks over to you on the couch, plopping down next to you.
you don’t need her to say anything to know it wasn’t a good game, either one of her teammates was being puck-hoggish, or even, in the worse case—
“we lost.”
she looked up to you with the saddest puppy eyes ever. she had taken her loses very seriously, and constantly put the blame on herself, even if it wasn’t her fault.
“oh abs, i’m sorry. you tried your best yeah? don’t blame yourself, i don’t have to be there to know you did amazing.”
slowly shifting from where you sat, you move to face your sweet girl, giving her a soft smile. she reaches in to give you a tight hug, inhaling the scent of pine and vanilla on her body.
“thank you baby, i just wanna relax now. maybe shower and watch a movie together, yeah?”
you pull away, ugh, you absolutely adore your girlfriend. she’s so perfect. her attitude, the way she presents herself, how utterly beautiful she was, always had been so attractive to you.
abby lets you know she’s going to take a shower, giving you time to pick a movie out for the both of you. you settle on a corny romance movie, something abby had teased you for enjoying, but you like to think she secretly enjoyed it too.
after a while, you hear the water stop running from the bathroom, followed by incoherent mumbling coming from abs.
apparently she changed in the bathroom, because when she comes out of there, she’s already wearing a graphic tee, and grey sweats. long dirty blonde hair wet and soaking her shirt slightly.
“look at you abs, all comfy? you look so perfect.”
“haha, very funny baby. start the movie already.”
she’s fucking perfect, and you weren’t sure how many times you would have to repeat that to her for it to finally stick.
you two are cuddled up on the couch, big, fluffy blanket almost drowning the both of you. deciding it was a good time to do so, you lean over and give her a soft kiss on her cheek.
“what was that for?”
you give her a smile and caress exactly where you placed the kiss to her skin.
“no reason. you’re just beautiful— and i’m so proud of you for working so hard always.”
she gives you a kiss return, this time on the lips.
“i love you.”
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taglist; @syrenada @satellitespinner @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @ellieslob @starlynnr @enhanct @fl0wrsgr0wing1nmyv3ins @4ftergloww @marsworlddd @sapphiclesbli
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