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whocaresstillthelouvre · 8 months ago

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Golden Walkway

Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader (Reader is a teacher in Jackson, has long hair.) Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: It’s your birthday, Joel takes you out to the Tipsy Bison, kisses (and does more to) you in the rain, and takes you home to give you a gift (it's sex, the gift is sex). Also, the thought of Joel spitting whiskey in someone's mouth happened and I had to write it out. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Warnings: smut, drinking, consent first, degradation second, followed by so much praise, hair pulling, spitting, Joel calls you a slut, fingering against a brick wall, F receiving oral, I watched that doggy style Narcos gif (for research) a lot, unprotected p in v, apocalypse birth control (pulling out), Joel’s canon age, Reader’s in her 30’s. Words: 4,300 A/N: Hi! Welcome to my first published fic. I'm currently working on a grander scale fic with these two, I hope to have the first chapter out within the next couple of weeks. I just really wanted to get this out there! Thanks for reading and a big thank you to @ohheypedrito for all of her help and also to our phones for not overheating when I send 40 texts at once with ideas for fics. Hope you enjoy, can't even blame the feralness of this on the full moon.

Edit: I posted the Masterlist for Elks, my work these two are included in.

***

“Was turning 21 as fun as they’d show in movies back then?” You’re cuddled in next to Joel on his couch sketching in your notebook while Joel reads a book about Native Americans that you found him. You always do this, a random question or thought to break the comfortable silence.

“Not for me, bought a 12 pack of Bud Light and split it on my porch with Tommy. Sarah was only a toddler then and I had work in the morning. Didn’t have the money or the time to go to a bar. ‘Course I don’t think a lotta people did anything the way they’d show in the movies.”

“I always wanted to have my 21st birthday at a bar, ya’ know? Wait until the clock strikes midnight and order a weird named shot.”

“Well, I reckon we could do that at the Bison tomorrow night. Might not be your 21st but I’ll get you whatever you want to drink, and the best part is you can drink before midnight.” Joel pulls you in closer and kisses your forehead, “What do you say, let me take you out for your birthday sweetheart.”

“Yes, please,” you sigh into his shoulder, “sounds amazing.”

“Wear that little blue dress I know you have hanging in your closet.”

The drinks flowing through you making you downright giddy, alcohol making you bolder, your body and your inhibitions becoming looser, your hands becoming addicted to touching Joel, first his leg, then his thigh, now his lower stomach, right at his waistband. You haven’t been this tipsy in a long time, your face feeling flushed and red more from your desire than any drink you’ve had tonight.

“You better knock that off before I take you outside in the rain and fuck you against the building, darling,” Joel huffs into your ear. His fiery warning massaging your neck causing your heart rate cooled by your inebriation to pick up.

“Sooo, keep going?” You slur back.

“If that’s what you really want,” Joel puts a forceful squeeze on your upper thigh, a layer of your dress laying between his skin and your skin. If you weren’t both sitting at the bar, and maybe in one of the more darker corners of the saloon you’d surely hike your skirt up and let him learn just how bad you want him.

It feels so good to let go with him, to giggle openly at his jokes, stare at his profile as he talks with a friend or two who stop by to say hello, or place your hand on his broad back just because you want to touch his soft blue denim shirt.

You watch as his tongue darts out and licks the leftover whiskey off his top lip, Joel’s movements becoming a little slower thanks to the amber liquid he’s been drinking all night. Some droplets glisten on his mustache, you fight every urge inside yourself to not lean over and lick them up.

“It’s what I want,” you respond as you move your hand back and forth across his waistband.

“Jesus Christ, I’m about ready to throw you over my shoulder and run home,” Joel says as he takes your hand into his and pulls it away.

“Not so fast. You told me you’d fuck me in the rain, that’s what I want for my birthday,” you whisper into his ear with a breathy giggle.

“Can’t fuck you out here in public. Small town ‘n all, but I’ll make you feel good,” Joel takes a last swig of his drink, puts the glass down and knocks his fist on the bar to let the bartender know you two are leaving. He leans forward and drawls into your ear, “Now finish your drink if you want me to show you just how happy of a birthday I can give you.”

You nod and gulp your drink down. You’re so wet, you don’t know if you’ve ever been this turned on before. Joel grabs your arm with the perfect amount of pressure, you’ve never been so happy to get outside into the pouring rain.

——

It’s absolutely storming outside, your footsteps sloshing in the puddles on the ground. The rain pelting your’s and Joel’s bodies as you walk through late night Jackson. It feels like you’re the only two people in the whole town as you make your way farther away from the bar. The bulbs of the string lights reflecting off the water gathering on the sidewalks making your path towards Joel’s house golden. You don’t rush, the two of you not scared away by the downpour, the drops cooling your burning skin. Joel turns down the street before his, pulling you behind one of the storage buildings, it’s darker back here, practically pitch black thanks to the rain clouds blocking the moon and the nearest light source being three buildings down. You’re pushed up against the brick, Joel’s hand gently cradling your head to block it from hitting the wall, he’s such a gentleman.

“Happy birthday baby, I need you to tell me you want this, ‘n you’re okay with this, I have plans for you and I need you to tell me you want it.” Joel instructs you, all you can see is his eyes and the faint lines of his facial hair, the rest of him camouflaged by the darkness surrounding the two of you.

“I want it, more than anything. Please,” your voice straining as you beg.

“Tell me you want me to have my way with you,” Joel speaks into your slack mouth as he rubs his arched nose against yours.

“I want you to have your way with me,” you moan against his wet shirt, “so bad.”

“Good girl, now, m’not gonna fuck you here, because I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop and I need to have you in my bed tonight.” Joel starts to move his hand down your body lifting the hem of your dress. “But, you are going to cum for me right here.” Joel captures your mouth with his. His hand starts to trace the outline of your panties, you mew out a cry as his fingers slip through and begin to pet you right where you ache the most. His hands are so big, his fingers so long and thick, always putting the right amount of pressure, moving the way you need him to move. Joel Miller is a capable man, everyone knows that, but nobody, except for you, knows just how capable he is.

Joel sticks a finger in you, though his finger is thick and feels so good, you need more to fill you.

“Another,” you instruct in between fevered kisses. Your pussy clenches as Joel pushes another finger in you. “Yessss,” you moan out against his lips.

“That’s my good girl, gotta get you stretched out f’me.” Joel begins to kiss his way down your chin and neck stopping at your chest, your hard nipples jutting through your wet dress. Joel takes one into his mouth, sucking the fabric and your tit deeper into his mouth. The sloppy wet sounds of Joel’s suctions making you want him more.

“Another finger,” you shudder out. “Three? You really want it tonight, don’t you?” Joel mumbles against your chest as he sticks a third finger in. It burns, it burns in the best way. You’re ready for him, it’s what you’ve been waiting for all night. You bite down on your lip as your legs begin to shake, Joel can tell you’re right on the edge and twists his fingers inside of you as he finger fucks you harder.

Your orgasm bursts forward your whole body going stiff as you try not to wail out into the night.

“That’s iiiiiit baby,” Joel pulls his fingers out of you and softly pets your pussy from hole to clit.

He removes his hand from between your legs bringing it up between the two of you resting his finger tips against your lips, you open your mouth and begin to lick. His tongue meeting yours as you both clean his thick digits covered in you. He takes his hand away leaving just your mouths to taste each other. His kiss turns tender, your kiss turns desperate.

Joel pulls away resting his forehead against yours. “My beautiful birthday girl. Let’s get you home, my gift’s not done.”

——

Your body practically chills with the promise of what is left to come. Joel grabs your hand and you take it depending on him to lead you to his home. Every step you take you feel your wet core heavy with lust, you’re soaked from the rain and from Joel, if you could drown like this, you would go down with the sinking ship. His house comes into view, your body tingling in anticipation at the site as the both of you speed your footsteps up in perfect agreement.

He throws open the gate, you’re following so close you almost trip on his heels making your way up the walkway and steps. He fumbles for his keys and unlocks the doors, you take the opportunity to run your hands all over his back and sides, rubbing the wet cloth of his shirt as it molds to his body. The door swings open and you both shuffle into his living room gasps escaping your mouths, both out of breath from your dash home and your mutual want for each other. You step out of your wet shoes and shake your hair out.

“Take your dress off, right now.” Joel huffs out as he tosses his keys on the console table and begins to kick his boots off.

You strip yourself of your baby blue frock as fast as you can. You’ve never had a reason to wear such a revealing piece of clothing. You don’t know why you held onto it, let alone grabbing it from the communal clothing rack, never thinking anything, or anyone, would be worthy enough for you to dress up for. Joel’s worthy, so worthy.

“Feel like I’m a little underdressed here…” your words grab Joel’s attention as he moves his hands up to his chest to begin to unbutton his denim shirt. He gets one button taken care of before he rips it open. Shame, it’s your favorite shirt, you'll have to fix it for him later. You watch as a button rolls underneath a table, before you can note where it lands, your attention turns back to Joel to find him stepping out of his jeans and underwear leaving him completely naked.

What a sight, what a fucking sight. There’s only a lamp on in the room, Joel’s body being cast in amber color and shadow, one side of him on full display glowing in the light, the other more difficult to discern. He moves forward stalking you. “Now I’m the underdressed one here. Take them off for me,” he says as he moves to pick up a bottle of whiskey from his shelf.

You follow his instructions shucking your underwear down your legs and leaving them pooled at your feet.

“Good girl,” Joel says as he begins to walk towards you unscrewing the lid off the bottle. He stands in front of you and takes a drink. “Open your mouth,” he orders as he grabs your hair and tips your head back. He takes another pull from the bottle, this time he raises his mouth over your mouth and begins to dribble drips of whiskey down from his mouth into yours. A moan raises from your throat, causing Joel to tighten his hold on your hair and arch your head back even more. He spits the rest of the whiskey straight into your mouth, you happily swallow his spit and liquor down. He unwinds his hands from your hair, takes another drink and kisses you, the whiskey and his tongue spilling into your mouth. Joel pulls back and takes his last swig before resting the bottle on the table. “Get upstairs.”

You don’t think you’ve ever run so fast in your life, tripping over your feet as you rush your way up, Joel’s naked form hunting you like prey up each step.

The sight of Joel’s bed brings a new wave of goosebumps to your skin.

“Bend over on the bed darlin,” Joel turns on a lamp in the corner and pulls it closer. “Need to lick and fuck you with my tongue.”

You move over to Joel’s side of the bed and bend forward, your ass sitting high in the air and your face in the sheets, you inhale the smell of Joel on his sheets. You swing your hips in giddy anticipation of what’s about to happen.

You feel his body lean over yours, his erection laying over your lumbar. “Okay baby, once again, need you to tell me you’re good with me having my way with your body,” he tempts into your ear.

“Fuck, y—yes, fuck, of course I am good. So good.”

“That’s my girl,” Joel’s heavy body lifting off of yours as he kneels between your legs. You feel his hot breaths on you where you’re aching for him the most, you widen your stance egging him on to touch you. “Look at you,” Joel licks your thigh, “so fuckin’ wet you’ve spilled out into your thighs.”

You scream a pleasured yell as Joel’s teeth bite down into the flesh of your thigh and sucks your skin into his mouth. The pain is perfect. He loosens his bite, kissing and licking the spot, the sensation making your body quiver.

“Okay baby?”

“Y-y-yessss,” you answer.

“Whaddo you need sweetheart?”

“Lick me,” you beg out, “please.”

“‘Course. Where do you want me to lick you?” Joel questions as he nuzzles his head against your ass cheek, giving it a small bite.

“My pussy. Pleeeaaase,” you’d say you sound pathetic but you couldn’t care less, your lust overshadowing any type of pride.

“Mm, you sound so needy baby, you sound like you really need my tongue on you, huh?” His teasing drawl drives you crazy, your body won’t stop moving, absolutely radiating tensity from your want.

“Please,” you implore, sobbing out.

“Alright baby,” his hands grab your cheeks and spreads them, widening his view of you. “Prettiest thing I ever seen, love your pussy.”

This act feels so depraved, everything on display for him, legs and cheeks spread wide, your pussy exhibited for him like it’s an art piece.

You literally scream into the bed, biting down on Joel’s comforter as his tongue finally meets your core. This, thiiiiiiis is what you’ve been wanting all night. Joel moans against you, not being able to hold himself back as he tastes you, his fevered licks exploring your cunt, his large tongue mapping every inch of you. He’s absolutely conquering you, the noises of his lips and tongue smacking against your wetness soundtracking his journey.

He can feel you getting close your hips beginning to cant as your orgasm begins to crest. You knew it wouldn’t take long, between the alcohol buzz and Joel’s tongue lapping up your wetness and cum from earlier, you knew you’d be a goner.

“Mmf, cum for me,” Joel speaks against you, his mouth full of you, too busy to pull away to clearly speak. You don’t think he can get any closer to you, his tongue working your orgasm up in intensity with each swirl and dash against your clit. You feel it, it’s here. Your legs instantly collapse, thankful that the rest of your body is resting on the bed. Your eyes tightly squeeze shut and then begin to rapidly blink as your orgasm shatters through you. Joel flattens his tongue against your clit as it pulses. You’re too turned on to make a noise, Joel stepping in for you and groaning as your juices seep out of you.

“Did so good baby,” Joel says leaving one last kiss on your clit before standing up behind you. You want to flip over to look at him, you haven’t seen his face since you laid down on the bed. You have no energy, you’re just a shell of a woman, the only sensations you can feel is the pool of wetness in between your legs and your light inebriation.

Your attention gets pulled to the sound of Joel spitting in his hand, followed by a hiss coming out of his mouth. When you realize exactly what he’s doing, you summon the strength needed to turn over. You flip over, your back thudding on the mattress your legs still spread wide, feet resting on the floor. And there…. there…. THERE he is, standing in the middle of his room, one large hand wrapped around his hard cock softly stroking as he watches you with hooded eyes. You know you just came, but the sight makes your pussy clench with desire.

Joel jerks himself off as his eyes roam your exhausted form. “Been thinking ‘bout this all day. You all laid out in front of me heaving for air after cummin’ all over my tongue,” slow strokes matching his lazing words. “Just about canceled our night out when you opened your door in that little blue dress, looked like you were wearing the sky, baby.”

You bite your lip as all of your senses are so overtly overwhelmed by lust. The sight of Joel’s handsome face watching you, the hazel flecks in his eyes twinkling in the golden light of the lamp. The smell of the rain on your skin mixed with the heady scent of your arousal and Joel’s sheets. The taste of Joel’s whiskey tongue still in your mouth. The sound of Joel’s fist pumping along his hard cock. The feel of the aftershocks of your orgasm still quaking your body. It’s so fucking much, you need Joel inside you. The thought of feeling him stretch you causes a whimper.

“Yeah baby? Havin’ a hard time over there?” Joel stops stroking his hard length, his hand pauses on his shaft. “You want me to fuck you now?”

“Pleeeease,” you keen out.

“Alright sweetheart.” Joel confidently strides over to you, dick still in hand. He stops right at the edge of your feet. “Turn back around ’n get on all fours in the middle of the bed f’me.”

You follow his instructions eager to please. The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can feel Joel enter you.

“Good girl,” he praises as the mattress dips lower with his weight behind you.

Your heart is pounding so loud, your whole body thrumming, you gulp down a breath of air trying to calm your need. You feel Joel’s cock brush against your ass cheek, he’s so close to fucking you.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck you real good and hard now. Happy birthday baby.”

And just like that, Joel buries his cock inside of you, you’re absolutely stretched around him. Your clit already worked over by Joel’s tongue, now your hole deliciously stinging while it flutters around his cock. He begins thrusting, tender and slow full strokes. Entering and exiting, swirling the head of his cock right at the entrance before plunging back in because he knows you love the feeling. Joel’s groans and your cries join in song as he begins to pound faster, the sound of your bodies slapping together match the rhythm.

“Feel so fucking good, always so perfect for me. S’a good girl, always take it so good,” Joel grits out.

He grabs your hair and wraps it around his fist as he pounds into you. “No one knows how fucking slutty you get for me behind these walls. They think you’re one of those innocent little teachers.” Joel pulls your hair harder causing a scream of ecstasy from you. “You love this, don’t you?”

You do. It’s so rough, so different from how gentle he always is with you. It feels like a luxury to be treated this way by him.

“Y-y-y-yes, God I love it,” you whimper.

“That’s right. That’s what I like to hear. So pretty so smart. So much smarter than me, now I’m makin’ you stupid with my cock, right baby?”

Everybody knows Joel Miller as the strong, silent type, a man of few words, somebody who doesn’t do chit chat. But with you in his bed naked and wailing as he slams into you, Joel Miller won’t shut up.

“Doin’ so good for me. So pretty, so perfect f’me. So wet for me.”

“You made me so wet earlier, I was afraid I was going to leave a mark on the barstool.” Your words coming out as tortured weeps, so lost in your ecstasy you struggle with every word spoken.

“Fuuuuuck.” That got him good. He pounds you even harder, the bed frame shaking violently against his wall, your body and cunt acting as if it’s the only barrier between Joel knocking a hole in the plaster. “Had I fuckin’ known I would have made you stick your face on that chair and made you lick yourself up as I fuck you against it.”

That’s it, that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. Joel’s deep timbered accent grunting those deviant words as he grabs you and begins to roll his hips into your cunt. Your body is strung so tight and rigid in all places besides your hips and core, pumping and rolling along with Joel’s as he fucks you. You’re close again, your panting breaths letting Joel know.

“Baby, if you gotta cum, cum,” his grip on your hips pressure into you.

“Going … going.. going to,” the only words you can say as your third orgasm radiates out of your body, your pussy is the epicenter, tingles firing through your veins, your hands fisting the blankets at your detonation. Slack jawed and fucked senseless you rally the strength to not disintegrate and fall into Joel’s bed. Your world has been shattered by Joel, but your body survives for him, your legs and arms shaking under gravity and your weight as they deal with the fallout.

“C’mere baby, lemme help you.” Of course he can tell you’re struggling. He reaches his hands around, clutching your stomach and pulling you up against him. Your back up against his chest, his hand seeking out your breast, the other wrapping around your torso and clutching you to him. He holds you as he fucks into you, his nose brushing against your ear as he puffs and grunts against your neck. “Fucking. Love. You. So. Much.” Each word matching a thrust into you. Your hands find his and grip them, you’ve never felt more loved and protected. Joel Miller has got you.

You feel the familiar shudder in Joel’s movements as he edges close to his climax. His labored breaths getting louder and more fevered against your neck. You’re absolutely wrecked, but the angle of Joel’s cock inside of you mixed with the feeling of the shudder in his movements as he edges himself brings forth another orgasm. Words are gone, just sounds, whatever your throat can muster up and out of your mouth.

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it,” Joel repeats. His hands squeezing yours so tightly, his chest heaving against your back, his strong thighs straddling yours, his nose pressing into your ear. You feel his body tense as he pulls out. His release coating your pussy as his whole body surrounds you. Hot breaths huffing against the side of your face in between featherlight kisses. “Love you,” a whisper in your ear so delicate and sweet as he lets go of your hands. Your body falling forward without his support, your arms catching you before crashing down on the bed. Joel gets up with a groan as you lay yourself down on your stomach, taking the opportunity to stretch your legs out before rolling over on your side to watch Joel. He stands arms akimbo in the middle of the room. He’d look like a Greek statue if his shoulders weren’t rising and falling rapidly as he catches his breath. He’s gorgeous and he looks just as wrecked as you feel.

“Probably shouldn’t have gotten up as quick as I did,” he chuckles. “Damn well feel like I’m standing in the middle of a earthquake.” You love the casual banter he puts forth seconds after being deep inside you, his cum still covering your core. This is love.

You smile at him, your cheek resting on your hand as a makeshift pillow. You’re exhausted… the whole night and your four orgasms catching up with you. Eyes feeling heavy, matching your limbs you begin to drift off.

A wet sensation in between your legs jerks you awake. “Sorry baby, just want to clean you up,” a whisper just as light as Joel’s tender attention as he washes you lulls you back to sleep.

——

“Baby,” Joel’s low voice gently wakes you up along with a soft kiss to your forehead.

You groan as you stretch your sore muscles under the sheet, opening your eyes to find Joel gazing down lovingly at you. He’s backlit by the filtered morning sunlight shining in through his bedroom windows. What a way to wake up. “Happy birthday sweetheart, I’d let you sleep all day but I need to give you my present.” His face is so bright and cheerful, a boost in your confidence provided by just how happy he looks when he’s with you.

“Thought you gave me your present already last night,” you yawn.

“Sweet girl, that was a present for both of us. Now come on, get up.” You grab his offered hand and reluctantly get out of bed. Joel wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, his hands splayed across your back as you nuzzle your face in his warm chest. “Happy birthday.”

A/N: THANK YOU for reading my first ever fic. My inbox is always open. :)

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #elks #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal

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januaryembrs · 7 months ago

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WAS I FOOLIN MYSELF | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [5]

Description: The THREE times you can't have him no matter how much you want to

Length. 15.2k

warnings: angst, spencer's addiction mentioned, gory cm cases (medical trauma, removing limbs, human marionettes etc) explosion, broken arm and surgery, slight lemon at end but not actually written just described aftermath, Maeve arc (I'm so sorry), guns, almost dying, blood, general cm warnings, anything else let me know!

previous chpt | next chpt

Authors note; I will edit in the morning I just really wanted you all to have the next chapter as promised!!

'I'ma strike these matches, never had control,

I'm ready to let go, no, was I fooling myself?'

The one with the wedding

JJ’s ears were ringing, a high pitched whine like a radio skipping between stations searching for a signal, and she felt the hard concrete against her milky skin before the throbbing in her forehead hit.

“JJ, are you alright?” There were hands at her shoulders, patting her down for fractures, not wanting to move her if her spine had been hit, and it wasn’t until she rolled herself over, eyes frantic and in shock that she saw Morgan.

“Where’s Will? Where’s Bugsy?” She asked, the words blurring into one word. Her legs were struggling to a stand before she could think too much about the concussion she almost definitely had, giving Morgan a quick once over, “Did they get out of there?”

But she hadn’t seen any movement before the blast had shot them back ten feet to the floor. Had only seen the back of the youngest Prentiss woman’s head as she rushed into the building to get emergency medical care to her partner.

“Where’s Emily?” Morgan added, and the two of them realised they were missing perhaps three of the most important people to them with no sign of life from any of them.

It didn’t take much for JJ to take off bolting into where the bank’s entrance had crumbled to the floor, where the dust hadn’t even settled and they didn’t know whether there was a second set of bombs waiting for them. They didn’t know anything.

And it was for that reason JJ dipped straight into the wall of smoke, hand tight on her gun as she went to look for survivors.

Morgan and Hotch were hot on her heels, a dozen firefighters and medical in tow, a similar face of dread in their expressions.

Aaron’s heart was in his throat when they entered the building, the west facing wall almost entirely in smithereens on the floor. The dust choked him the second they ran in, and he coughed before he could even get a word out, hand flying over his mouth to try give himself some kind of filter to the air.

“Bugsy!” He yelled as loud as his dry vocal chords would allow, “Bugsy, give us a signal,”

Nothing. Nothing but the sound of JJ and Morgan screaming for Will and Emily just as loud. And even to that they received no answer.

It wasn’t until they got close enough to the rubble and began seeing the bodies did Aaron start to fear the worst. He called her name again, her real name, splitting up from the rest of his team because it was no longer a mission for the UnSubs, it was now a search and rescue.

He crouched to press his fingers against a woman’s throat, stomach flipping when he felt no pulse beneath them, before he moved onto another one, his eyes darting between the chunks of brick and ceiling to see if he could spot anything that looked like an FBI jacket.

It wasn’t until he found one of the men donned in a SWAT uniform, his gun long since dropped to the tiles that he knew he must be close. It was one of the guys who had gone into the buildings seconds before her.

He felt for a familiar thrum of a heartbeat, his breath thick in his throat when he managed to get a slow and steady thump, and he immediately began signalling for medical attention.

Paramedics came running over with a stretcher between them, but Aaron wasn’t finished, Not until he saw her.

He dodged around the large chunk of stone that piled in the centre of the room, cringing when he saw a splatter of blood on the tiles in front of him, and it was only when he saw a hand splayed out on the floor did his heart truly stop.

His cold eyes were wet with fear as he traced the hand up its arm, the familiar blue he wore himself ripped to shreds, the skin beneath it broken and the bone snapped clean in two. He could barely make out the three letters, F. B. I. that were so covered in blood and dirt it almost matched the navy, before he got the pillow of familiar hair matted against a head that faced away from him.

But it was her. There was no doubt about it.

He thinks he said her name, but it might just have been a sob, because he fell to his knees quickly, scrambling to get to her face to see if she would respond to him at all.

“Bugsy, I need you to wake up,” He ordered, though it sounded like a hiss of pain, his rough hands finding her young face, desperate for any movement behind her eyelids, “Come on, sweetheart, just tell me what day it is,”

Years of training on what to do in a crisis and the correct first aid to give to someone unresponsive flew out of his brain, leaving behind bits and pieces like getting her to talk to see whether she had severed anything in that big, amazing brain of hers that had so much promise.

He leaned his ear down next to her nose, looking down the front of her chest to check for any signs of breath.

This was too similar to what Foyet had done with Haley, like a horrid deja-vu he wouldn’t wish even on their worst UnSub. He had been too slow, too stubborn, too stupid to stop her from getting hurt. He didn’t know what her blood on his hands would feel like, didn’t know if he would ever sleep again knowing he had gotten her killed.

Aaron’s stomach flipped when he saw her ribs rising slowly beneath her vest, her breaths cold against his earlobe.

“Guess it’s my turn to come back from the dead, huh?” A croaking whisper came softly, and he flicked his head around so fast he thought he might have whiplash.

But her eyes were open, squinting and tired, and he cursed the fact he had only then noticed the cut on her forehead, red ichor pumping fast and restlessly down the side of her face.

He gave a breathless laugh, though it pained his own ringing ear to do so, stroking gently down her face with the same care he would put Jack to bed with.

“Gotcha,” She smiled up at him sheepishly, her brows furrowing when she seemed then to notice the tears rolling down the tip of his nose, “Aaron Hotchner crying over me, are pigs flying today?”

He chuckled wetly, and his eyes were the warmest brown she’d ever seen them when he looked down at her. He turned his attention away for a second to call over medical, his eyes landing on Emily who was also frantically scanning the wreckage for her sister and giving her a sign too.

“You gave us quite a scare there,” Aaron said softly, because judging by the bump on her head, and the way blood was pooling in her ears, he guessed her eardrums had been damaged in the blast. Emily was over to them in seconds, looking dishevelled herself, and she gasped into her hands when she saw her sister’s fragile form.

“Bugsy- oh my god your arm,”

The girl’s face dropped, eyes widening as she tried turning to see the damage but Aaron was faster, quickly blocking her view of the mangled mess of skin with hand over the side of her head.

“What’s wrong with my arm?” She asked, and he saw nothing but his son with a scraped knee in her eyes when she looked up at him vulnerably. Emily fell to her knees next to her, taking over from Aaron by stroking her sister’s cheek, because if her adrenaline rose too much, then the numbness of the shock would wear off and she would feel it all.

“I think it’s broken, but the paramedics are going to fix you right up, I promise,” Emily cooed, though she felt herself go a little white at the sight of her sister’s bones so mangled and in pieces.

Aaron looked up when he heard Morgan calling his name, spotting the paramedic team navigating their way back to where the three of them sat, and he waved his hand up to let them know where they were.

He bit his tongue, looking down at where Bugsy was clearly starting to wake up more to just how bad of a state she was in, and she watched him woefully be torn between helping the rest of his team or staying with her.

“You guys can go, I’m no use on the case anymore,” She said, despite the fact she was terrified of what might happen if they left her alone.

“Are you crazy, absolutely not-,” Emily was cut off when two EMT’s rounded the block of concrete and brick that had missed her by a few inches when it had fallen, a stretcher and med packs at their side.

“Good to see you’re responsive, Agent Prentiss,” One of the EMT’s commented, opening his case up to retrieve a neck brace and a splint for her arm before they could move her to the stretcher. Bugsy smiled up at them, though she knew it looked like a wince, taking one more look at her sister and then at Hotch, both of whom looked stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“Go, I’m serious. Will needs you,” She said, feeling Emily squeeze her hand gently, pressing a kiss to her hairline, looking down at her in worry, “Go, Emily. Just bring me pudding when you get to the hospital- no Jello-”

She hissed when the paramedics slipped the brace over her shoulders, strapping her head into place to stop her doing any more damage to her spine.

Emily nodded, and her and Hotch took off round the corner to where Morgan was calling them, and Bugsy let the paramedics fuss over her some more, taking the pain killers without a second glance once she realised just how broken Emily had meant when she saw her arm.

It got hazy from there, until she felt the sun on her face and she felt a hand grab her good side. Her eyes were rolling with the fact she was fighting off sleep, or maybe she really had lost more blood than she thought. Either way she managed to flick her eyes open enough to meet hazel hues, distraught and worried, heard a familiar voice calling her name sadly, but she was too far gone by then. Her eyes shut despite her fighting them, and she was wheeled into the back of an ambulance by the friendly EMT’s, and the doors shut before her medicated brain could even recognise the voice as Spencer.

She was asleep before she could protest to it.

–

The air smelled like bleach- no, like floor cleaner had been drenched all around her, like she had been dropped into a janitor's closet and spilled every bottle over on her way in.

Her body felt stiff, and she frowned when she felt cramp in her fingertips, pain shooting up her wrist the second she tried to move them. Her eyes opened blearily, and she groaned in protest at the overhead white lights, burying her face into the scratchy sheet that covered her body. Only then did it click that she was in a hospital.

She moaned again when she tried moving her legs and her whole body protested, her bare legs rubbing against the paper like material in a way that made her cringe, and she felt only the hospital gown and underwear on her body.

“You’re awake,” The voice startled her, and she realised she hadn’t even heard the door open in her haze. Spencer stood in the doorway, three big bunches of flowers and two teddies in his arms, one of them holding a sign saying ‘You’re bear-y brave!’

What got her was the look of worry in his eyes when he took her in head to toe, his eyes lingering on the bright pink cast on her lower arm up past her elbow.

She grimaced, following his eyes to the horror, “Sexy,”

He rushed over to her bedside, all but throwing the flowers and cuddly toys on the space where her legs weren’t curled up under the sheets, pausing for a second to assess the situation.

“Spencer, you didn’t need to get me all of this,” Bugsy said, her cheeks warming when she saw her favourite flowers right at the end of the bed, blooming right in her direction, “Is everyone okay? Is Will okay?”

He nodded, but had yet to say anything, and he fiddled with his fingertips the way he did when he was struggling to get his point across properly. She reached out with her functioning hand to take them in hers, because she hated when he wouldn’t talk to her.

“Spencer, I’m fine, it’s just a broken arm, right?” The woman asked, trying to shuffle herself into a sitting position only to yelp when her side burst into pain. He rushed to put his arm behind her back, to get her to lay back down without putting too much pressure on her sternum, “What the fuck is that? I feel like I got hit by a baseball bat,”

“That’s what happens when you run blindly into a building without waiting for backup,” Spencer said, an undertone to his words she had never heard from him before, “Two cracked ribs; you’re lucky your lungs are still intact,”

Shit.

“Anything else?” She asked, a grim look on her face as his expression soured.

“Almost tore one of your eardrums, moderate concussion. They had to put pins in your arm to fix the fracture, it was transverse before you ask, lacerations to your legs from the glass, and some shrapnel they pulled out while you were in surgery.” Spencer listed, propping a pillow behind her head for her to rest against more comfortably though he still seemed annoyed, “No biggy,”

She paused for a second, watching him like a scolded child, her lips pulling down slightly, “Are you upset with me?”

He sighed, running a gentle hand over her leg that was covered by the thin sheet, and she felt the sting of cuts on her skin just like he’d said.

“I’m not annoyed, I could never be annoyed with you; you just-” He huffed, looking up at her sad eyes and feeling his resolve crumbling immediately, “You can’t just throw yourself in the way of danger, you have people who care about you, people who love you,”

She bristled for a second, looking into her lap and chewing the inside of her lip worriedly, “I just wanted to help Will, I just didn’t want JJ and Henry to lose him the way I thought I lost Emily,”

Spencer’s heart sank, and any telling off he was going to give her for worrying him left him in seconds, and he forgave her embarrassingly fast.

Taking her hand back in his gently and scooching a chair closer to the bed so he could sit with her, he looked up at her with the sweet, puppy eyes she had always loved on him.

“I know, I know you just wanted to help,” He hushed her, using his other hand to stroke her hair behind her ear, “Next time just… wait for your lucky charm, remember?”

She smiled brilliantly, and he almost could ignore the butterfly stitching on her forehead or the bright pink cast on her arm, or the fact her clothes had looked like a crime scene when they’d shoved them in a biohazard bag with how soaked in blood they were.

Her pretty tweed pants and white shirt she’d bought especially for his Dr Who convention to make him happy, wasted.

“Where’s all my clothes?” She asked, like she’d read his mind, but then again she had been known to do that.

He pouted, because he knew she’d hate the answer, “Emily said they had to cut it off to get you into the brace properly; they ran some scans first to make sure your spine was intact.”

“All of my clothes?” She baulked, and he knew she was upset before she could even say so he stroked his thumb over her hand for good measure, “But my lovely shirt- and the pants they were so cute, weren’t they?”

“They were so cute,” He agreed, even though he thought she looked good in everything.

“And- oh my god they got my bra too?” She asked, wide eyed and horrified like she hadn’t had a building dropped on her, like this was the worst part of her day. Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but he thought better than to tell her it wasn’t a big deal and he was sure Pen could take her shopping for new ones even if the thought of it made his cheeks flush red, “They got the best one, Spencer, that was my best one with the little bows and the lace at the back- fuck,”

She huffed, rubbing her temple in annoyance seemingly completely unaware of the situation she’d put him in, when JJ slowly entered the room, looking more tired and stressed than she had in months, but there was a little glow in her face that washed it all away.

“JJ, they cut off my favourite bra,” Bugsy huffed, holding an arm out for the woman who came to stand at the opposite side of the bed to Spencer, and JJ quickly leaned in to hug her close, Bugsy’s head pressing against her stomach, “It was the only one that fit perfectly, now look at me. Wasted.”

“I can get you another one on Monday after Will and I have stopped by the courthouse,” JJ said, her eyes alight with mischief like she had a secret, and Bugsy frowned, looking up at the woman.

“Why on Earth would Will be buying me- Wait,” The girl stopped, her breath catching in her throat as she took in JJ’s sheepish blush and girlish grin, “Courthouse? You’re getting married!”

JJ’s smile was beaming, and Bugsy yanked her with her one good arm into a side hug, just about as much as her ribcage would allow, and Spencer’s face lit up equally, though he was quick to usher Bugsy back into a resting position so as not to jostle her stitches.

Spencer drove her home that night after she got discharged, and he helped her get settled back into her own bed, her face still a little bitter at the fact her favourite underwear set was “totally mismatched now”; her words, not his. He put a documentary on for the two of them until it was time for some more of the painkillers the doctors had sent her packing with, and she fell asleep pretty quickly after that.

He watched her breaths rising and falling slowly, the sight of her on that stretcher being wheeled into the back of the ambulance flashing in his head like a horror motion picture. Her face had been soaked in blood, her neck in a brace that looked tight enough to crush her, her eyes were weary and dim from what he knew now was the sedative effects of the painkillers.

He’d almost brought up the fact he’d found a geneticist willing to take a look at his MRI scans to help his migraines; almost brought up that she had finally got back to him with results and a plan of vitamins and dietary changes he could make to help ease his flare ups.

Spencer almost mentioned it, but he fell asleep listening to Bugsy’s breaths, checking for irregularities, before he had the chance to.

–

Hot pink did not match ditsy blue whatsoever, she had quickly decided, but the bluebell, floral dress was the only thing she owned long enough to cover the scratches on her legs and arms, and hid the majority of the hideous cast that weighed down her arm.

Spencer had encouraged her not to come to JJ’s ‘engagement party’, had encouraged her to stay at home and sleep; promised her he would rustle up the best chicken soup she’d ever tasted if it meant she would stay on the couch and rest her marred body.

But then Rossi had said he just simply couldn’t let a nice occasion go to waste. A few phone calls later, a drop in the ocean of his wealth and within two days the yard to his stately manor had been turned into a ceremony, the whole arch, pews and altar style.

“You should worry so much, you look lovely,” Spencer softly chided her when he saw her yanking her sleeve further down her arm, trying to cover the hard shell that protected her radius while it healed. She did, despite the fact he had to help her do her eyeliner because she could only do it with her right hand, or that there was still a nasty cut on her forehead that was scabbing up.

She was still beautiful as ever to him. And it made Spencer’s chest sore.

It felt like something had cracked between them since that night she had been dropped to his, her pupils wide as dinner plates, her inhibitions lowered to zero, and had pecked his lips like it wouldn’t tear him up inside to have her so close to him knowing it was everything he had ever wanted.

He knew if she ever kissed him again he couldn’t keep it in anymore, couldn’t stay in this limbo they had found themselves in where all he could think about was how she smelled when she wore his clothes, a mix of his laundry and her skin together, something he’d found himself purely saturated in since she first lived with him after Emily’s funeral. He loved the way her eyes seemed soft and mellow when she looked at him, loved the way his stomach seemed warm and fuzzy when she held his hand, and he knew it wasn’t in the same way it normally was with other people, when he was worried about how many germs they were spreading to him or if they’d had all their shots or if he’d remembered to pack hand sanitizer. His stomach felt funny, and his skin felt sweaty, and his head got scrambled, and it was somehow good.

He would do anything for her, anything she ever wanted from him and it was hers.

He knew it way surpassed friendship. It felt like she was his girlfriend, which was absurd because he had never asked her to be. Or maybe it was just him trying to wish it into existence, because he knew he would never ask her. She was too good for him, too good for this world let alone a scrawny, know-it-all like him.

She simpered under his words, looking at him with tired eyes, though he could tell she still yearned to fluff up her hair or fix her dress because she felt like a polished turd right now.

“Thankyou,” She said quietly, immediately spotting a waiter carrying a tray of champagne passing by and reaching for a little flute, “Want one? Thank you,”

Spencer shook his head politely, quickly spotting Emily and Morgan moving into the garden with Hotch and Beth not far behind them.

“I’ll be right back, just wait here a second,” He said, gently stroking over her spine with his warm hands, before he darted towards the group. Jack took off running towards Bugsy the second he saw her, and Spencer heard the small ‘ooft’ leave the woman as he collided with her stomach and nearly winded her. He was getting bigger by the minute, Spencer swore.

“Don’t you look dashing, boy wonder,” Morgan teased, flicking his finger under the lapel of Spencer’s two piece suit that Bugsy had told him more than once fit him like a glove, “Someone to impress?”

Spencer blanched, his eyes shooting to Emily who seemed to hide a smile, because his feelings for her sister were about as plain to see as the moon that coated their evening in a blue glow. Hotch looked over the younger agent’s shoulder, to where his son was throwing cents into Rossi’s fountain with Bugsy and making wishes, his eyes quickly falling to the pink cast around her wrist, and his face hardened.

“How is she?” He asked, lips pursed.

They had seen her in turns at the hospital, but most of the time she had been extremely out of it, Hotch had managed to catch her right before they took her into surgery for her arm, and even then he’d been ushered right back out of the room because they were getting her prepped to be scrubbed down.

Spencer bit his lip for a second, glancing over his shoulder at Bugsy fishing through her purse with her one good hand for more nickels, before he looked back at them, “She doesn’t want anyone to make a big deal about it, and don’t bring up her arm or her forehead, she’s a little delicate-”

He was cut off by Penelope squealing behind them, and they turned in unison to see the blonde woman cupping Bugsy’s face, checking herself for more abrasions, stroking over the younger girl’s shoulders as she simply allowed herself to be ragged like a doll.

Because it was Penny. And Penny always meant well.

Spencer flustered worriedly, and Morgan chuckled behind him, wrapping an arm over the kid’s shoulder.

“Can’t protect her forever, lover boy,” Derek said, patting him before he let go, taking Emily’s elbow and walking over to where they were serving hors d'oeuvres.

Spencer knew that, knew she could handle herself just fine without him. That was what worried him the most.

–

JJ looked beautiful in her mother’s wedding dress. Bugsy welled up with happiness, true happiness when she saw her friend walking down the aisle with her son, a spitting image of her, in one hand, her father’s arm in the other.

Will looked besotted, but then again he always did when he looked at JJ.

Bugsy felt the love in the entire yard as they said their vows, kissing each other without restraint under the floral arch as Henry covered his eyes with a little giggle and an ‘eww!’ which made everyone chuckle.

The violinists began playing soft hymns as the couple had their first dance, and Henry migrated towards the woman with the pink hand and the sapphire dress.

“Buggy,” He tugged on the bottom of her skirts, huge, sky-blue eyes blinking up at her behind a mop of blonde furls. “Buggy, your hand!”

She knelt down to hear the three year old a little better, and immediately tiny fingers trailed over her wrist worriedly.

“Your hand, it’s hurt,” He said, and Spencer crouched to comfort the boy who he still remembered holding hours after he was born.

“I know, I hurt myself at work,” She said, letting him run his fingers over the pink shelling, his eyes wide and confused about the new material, “But Mommy saved me, and she saved your Daddy, and she saved you, didn’t she? Isn’t she so brave,”

Henry smiled, like all his thoughts of his mommy being Wonder Woman were true, and he nodded, stepped towards Bugsy while making grabby hands for her neck, “Up,”

Spencer was about to protest, because he didn’t want her to push herself, but he knew she could never say no to kids, especially ones as cute as the boys.

“Alright, big man, up we go,” She put her good arm under his bottom, Spencer holding under her shoulder to help her into a stand with a repressed grunt, “Jesus, what did you eat for breakfast today. You really are a big boy, Henry,”

She put him on her hip, shoving off the way it stung her superficial cuts because Henry seemed happy, grabbing a section of her hair in his tiny hands, and stroking her head gently in what Bugsy guessed was the way JJ stroked his when he was unwell.

“Mommy says you have to have a magic kiss when you get hurt,” Henry babbled, and she smiled, her cheeks hurting because the kid was just sweet enough to eat.

“Oh, yeah? Is mommy magic then?” She entertained, feeling Spencer still a ghost over her shoulder in case she started struggling to hold the pre-schooler. His godson laughed like she told a joke, shaking his golden locks as he answered.

“No, Buggy,” He giggled, patting her cheek as she scrunched eyes shut with a smile, “You get a magic kiss when you get fixed. Like this,” He leaned in, leaving a big wet smooch on her cheek that made her giggle, tightening her hold on him with a shiny jaw. Henry turned to where Spencer watched them with a dazzling smile, pointing up at him, little fingernails waving in his face, “Spencer’s turn,”

His godfather faltered, his cheeks turning red and Bugsy looked between the two of them, amused.

“I can’t, I’m afraid Henry. I’m not magic like you and mommy,” Spencer replied, trying to brush the boy off as kindly as possible. Henry’s face frowned, because he had watched Uncle Spencer pull a coin out of his ear not even half an hour ago and so that statement seemed ridiculous.

“You have to! You have to give her magic kisses or she won't get better!” Henry ordered, trying to grab Spencer’s bow tie with vigour, “You have to!”

“Alright, alright,” Spencer agreed, his hands shooting up in surrender, “I’ll give her magic kisses,”

Bugsy looked at him with a heart stopping smile. She looked soft like butter, syrupy and warm as pudding. The moonlight washed her pupils with something like a cartoonish twinkle, and he hoped his forest eyes didn’t turn to two love hearts the way he felt like it did.

He raised one of his hands to her cheek, the same one Henry just kissed, holding her still. She was cool in the night air, or maybe his hand was just too warm because he was so nervous. He hoped he wasn’t shaking, but her jaw fit into the palm of his hand like it was always meant to be there.

He dipped his head in to give her a long, delicate kiss to her cheek, running a thumb down the apple of her cheek.

He pulled away from her, and they exchanged a look, something in her eyes he had rarely seen before. Figuring it was discomfort, or maybe just the light playing tricks on him, he stepped away, and Henry was quickly distracted by a frog hopping through the mildewed grass, and he set Bugsy on the task to help him catch it.

Spencer busied himself talking to Will and Derek in the hopes his heart would calm down any minute soon, but he had quickly felt himself becoming somewhat addicted to the feel of her skin beneath his lips. He wondered lewdly if the rest of her would feel so soft as her cheek had, and immediately scolded himself for it.

The thought haunted him for the rest of the night.

Penny twirled her around by her good arm, and the two of them giggled like school girls under the fairy-light woven pergola, the string quartet finishing off the fast paced song they had switched up the mood with. The blonde was careful about not jostling the woman too much, she could already feel Spencer and Emily’s worried looks from where they sat together at a table, nursing their drinks mid chat.

But whether it was the fact she had been cooped up for days on bed rest orders (Spencer’s, not the Doctor’s, though he’d argued that was the same thing,) or that last morphine patch had really given her a kick up the behind, but she seemed to be hiding the pain well.

JJ would only have one wedding, she’d argued with Spencer, she could have a hundred days in bed, but there would only be one night like this one; when they were all together, safe and happy, when there was enough palpable love in the air that fell over everyone's shoulders like a warm hug. He’d grumbled that he was usually the optimistic one and zipped up her dress for her with shaky fingers anyway.

Before Penny could spin her round even one more time, a figure appeared two tower over the blonde, and a voice cut in between them politely.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me lead the next dance, I think Reid and Prentiss might just tackle you if you shake her up anymore,” Aaron’s voice was soft, inviting with the one and a half beers he’d had edging at his tone, almost teasing in a way so rare for a man so stern.

Penelope looked over Bugsy’s shoulder to indeed see the woman’s two guard dogs watching her like a hawk, Bug’s already opened purse on Spencer lap where her emergency painkillers were.

“Oh god, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Spencer frown like that, it’s like watching a puppy resource guarding,” Penelope faltered, looking the woman head to toe as if she was being held against her will to dance by the blonde, “You’re not hurt or anything- you’d tell me if you were hurt, wouldn’t you?”

Bugsy chuckled, throwing her good arm over the woman’s shoulder, “Relax, they’re both worry warts. I’m having fun, Pen. I think Hotch just wanted a turn with the ugly barbie,”

Against Penelope’s better judgement, she gave the woman a kiss on the cheek with a sigh of defeat, though she had been so careful not to push her in fear of her cracking another rib, but she had loved seeing Bugsy smile like that again.

Derek was quick to swoop in to save her, swooping in to steal her for a dance as Aaron gently took Bugsy’s waist and good hand, entirely respectable and gentle in his touch.

“I’m glad you’re okay, your bell got a little rung in that bank,” Aaron murmured, trying not to fret over the gash on her forehead that had a few butterfly stitches pulling it together. He remembered how frail she’d felt in his arms the last time he’d properly seen her, like a baby bird with its wings snapped in his hands. He was worried he was going to be burying her too, just like he had Emily, just like he had Haley, except he knew for her there wasn’t a catch, an escape route to Paris. There wouldn’t have been a do over.

But she was okay. Broken bones and all.

She smiled at him, as if to remind him just how alive she was, and he saw how her eyes were bloodshot and tired, as if it was taking all of her energy to keep her head upright.

“If you knew how many morphine patches are on my butt right now, you’d freak,” She said, and he laughed, because she was always good at getting those from him. Bugsy relaxed in his arms, and he rocked her side to side sweetly, not quite dancing but moving passively to the soft melody the band was playing.

Maybe it was the fact he wasn’t in work mode, or maybe it was because the night air was cosy and light, or maybe she just weaselled out the guilt that had been stored in his chest for nearly a year, but he let himself look at her with a sad, sepia gaze, and it was like she knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“I’m-”

“Don’t apologise,” She cut in quickly, her own expression falling into something forlorn, “You have nothing to apologise for, Aaron,”

He took a deep breath through his nose, “I do. That wasn’t right how I treated you. You’re not spoiled.”

“I can be, sometimes,” She argued defeatedly, but he shook his head before she could add to it, “You were doing what was best to keep Emily safe, it was her I was more mad at than anything. She’s my sister, she should have trusted me, you and JJ didn’t owe me anything.”

“We owed you a better explanation than we gave,” He said, watching her sigh and rest her cheek on his shoulder. He cursed Spencer for allowing her to wear heels in her condition, though he didn’t doubt that the pretty boy had put up just as much fight as he would have seeing her grab the shoes on her way out, “I never meant to hurt you so much. And we do owe you better, we’re a family. Families fight, and they say mean things and they tell white lies sometimes but we love each other, and I only ever wanted to keep everyone safe. Okay?”

She nodded against his blazer material, dropping his hand in the interest of wrapping both her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug, ignoring the dulled ache of her ribcage.

“I love you too,” She murmured, and he gave her a feather-light squeeze back, all too aware of her bones creaking under her skin, “I’m sorry I hit you,”

She let go of him, and he held her hand, the tips of her fingers poking out from beneath her cast that already had Jack’s name scrawled over in black sharpie.

“I deserved it, I was being cruel,” He said honestly. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but the emptiness in her laugh, in the way she’d stormed out, had scared him. He thought even if she lashed out, if she screamed at him or cried that would be better than the silent treatment because at least then he would know where she stood with him. But instead he had driven the knife in deeper, and for that he couldn’t say he blamed her for it, “I’ve had worse, much worse. Maybe you’re not as tough as you think,”

She baulked, and realised he was teasing her, “Maybe we could go round two Monday morning, I bet it would hurt a lot having a hard plaster cast swung at your face,”

“For me or for you?” She smacked his arm with her good hand, and it made him chuckle again, and soon she was laughing too, resting her head back onto his shoulder comfortably, “I’m glad you’re okay, Bug,”

“Did you not hear where I put those morphine patches? I could paper mache with those bastards,”

And they danced between chuckles for another half an hour.

–

“Wait, wait, you’re going to compress her spine,” Derek stopped, Bugsy dipped at his waist where he was supporting her full weight because she’d complained she missed dancing with Penelope. She hated people walking on eggshells around her, and if anyone was going to have fun with her who could still make sure she was safe, it was Derek.

The woman grinned up at him, Derek’s hands safely around her waist and not pressing on her ribs whatsoever, though she had to admit she was ready for another dose of painkillers after a few hours of dancing between Hotch, then to JJ who had swiftly been taken over by Henry who wanted to be lifted high enough he could hold Bugsy’s hands like he had seen the others doing. David had even entertained her with a very slow three step waltz, until Derek had been her next target because he seemed to be having the most fun whirling Emily around the dance floor.

“Spencer!” She said and Morgan returned her to full height once he saw Reid’s fretful expression. She pouted, “Spencer, I was having fun,”

“You know what’s fun? Eating cake is fun, drinking water is fun, resting on the couch is fun,” He said, and Morgan was quick to hand the baby Prentiss over to Reid who rifled around his pocket to produce the tablet version of her buprenorphine, “You need more medicine or it’s going to hurt worse in the morning, remember? Getting ahead of the pain?”

She sighed, nodding, and before he could pop two out of the shiny, metal coated tray, she stopped him, “Wait, dance with me first,”

He looked at her incredulously, eyes softening when she stepped closer to him, her hand coming over the top of his to push the pain killers away, “It’s going to hurt more if you don’t get ahead of it now,”

“I know, I know,” She muttered, nodding docilely, “Look, I promise if you just dance with me a little now, I’ll have my meds and take it easy for the rest of the night, no questions asked,”

He looked unconvinced, because she was known to put up a fight when it came to doing something she didn’t want to.

She sighed, “If I sit down now, I know I won’t be getting back up again for the rest of the night, and I wanted to enjoy myself until I couldn’t anymore,”

Spencer looked at her pleading puppy dog eyes, and broke almost embarrassingly fast, letting her follow his hand into his pocket, putting the drugs away and letting her take his now free hand in his own.

“I’ll have it known I tried to stop this when this catches up to you and you have to go lay down on Rossi’s spare bed,” He argued back, but felt his stomach flip when she laced her fingers with his, pushing herself closer to him as a means of drawing him out of his grumpy mood.

“He has more than enough, just dance with me,” She brushed his attitude off, wrapping her plaster-cast over his shoulder.

He took her waist gently, feeling the plush, softness of her hips and wishing the heat away from his cheeks. She looked divine under the fairy lights, ready to be whisked away by sleep yes, but the sleepy blinks added to her charm, and she was soft and pliant under his touch like a tame cat ready to curl up on his chest.

“I had so much fun,” She said, meeting his adoring gaze, probably because he couldn’t drag his eyes away from her. He nodded, worrying then if his hair was sitting right or if hid bowtie needed straightening. She was a goddess in his arms, the colour of her dress matching her skin beautifully, a few wisps of hair falling over her eyes from where Penny had damn near done the quick step with her.

She looked like a dream.

“I never thanked you for everything you did for me when Emily was-” She gulped, her eyes suddenly down turned, like she couldn’t admit anything to the hazel of his eyes, not when they looked at her like that. “You were the only thing I had for a very long time, and I never really said how much it all meant to me,”

“You’re my best friend, I’m always going to be there for you,” He said, lovingly stroking a thumb over her skin, his voice tender as this touch, “That’s what friends are for,”

Even though he was sure he’d never felt this way about any of his friends before, even the tiny crush he’d had on JJ for all of two weeks when he’d first started at the BAU didn’t even make a mark on how she got his chest hammering like a jackrabbit.

Her face flickered with something he couldn’t read, and she nodded, “Right. Friends.” She swallowed heavily.

She slumped against him, like the wind had been taken out of her, her head on his shoulder, but it felt nothing like when she had danced with Hotch.

It felt like everything she’d ever wanted was right in her grasp, like the one person who made her feel whole again was pressed against her, stroking down her spine with an affection she could swear blind was nothing like she’d ever felt before. Like the only air she knew how to breathe was filling her lungs, every note of fresh linen, the hair gel he sometimes used to tame his curls, down to the faint smell of his apartment, so filled with books the smell of worn leather and thin paper seeped into his clothes.

She couldn’t remember who she was before she knew Spencer. She felt like she’d always known him.

He wasn’t just her friend, he was every bit of her that she wasn’t. Every ugly part of her that had always felt so alone, like loneliness was just ingrained into her since birth that seemed to jump up in a strange feeling of longing and home whenever he was near.

She let herself revel in his arms as long as she could, because she knew it was so illicit to be feeling so hungry for something she couldn’t have. She knew he was too good for her; she had never deserved any scrap of kindness he gave her. She could be mean, and rude, and loud, and ugly, and spiteful and he was everything she wasn’t. He was kind, and sweet, and gentle, and loving, and he didn’t deserve someone like her; he deserved so much better.

Bugsy let herself stay against his chest for a while longer, slowly swaying with him under the moonlight as JJ and Will took each other in their arms; a couple that fit together, Bugsy thought, two people who were so right for one another. Who deserved their happiness.

And so she selfishly let herself pretend she could have him as long as she could, silently dancing together under the pergola, until she agreed to go sit down because she would never admit that the ache in her side had started to seep back in, and he fussed over her some more and she told him he was being silly, but she preened under his affections anyway.

They’d reached a stalemate, Spencer would have probably called it.

Bugsy knew she shouldn’t want him, but she did. She shouldn’t want him because he was the pretty boy, the sweetheart that sat untainted by everything he’d seen and endured, the one who had jumped and cleared every hurdle life had thrown at him where she had fallen flat. He had gotten better on his own after Hankel; she had crashed and burned and taken nearly everyone with her. He was strong, and she was weak. She shouldn’t want him, it was selfish, but she did.

Spencer knew he couldn’t have her, because she was beyond anything he had ever dreamed of, beyond his best friend, beyond the girl who kissed him and didn’t ever want to talk about it again. He couldn’t have her because she was still healing, still wounded and vulnerable and rattled from barely recovering her relationship with her sister before she’d had a bank dropped on top of her. It would be wrong, it would be selfish, she would never want some scrawny kid from a shitty home where he was beaten up by girls even smaller than him and wedgied so hard he had to follow the librarian to class. He was a nobody. He couldn’t have her because she deserved so much better, but he wanted her.

They sat at a stalemate for a few weeks longer, until Emily got a job offer in London, and she asked Bugsy to take an internship at Interpol one of her old associates had sent to her. Twelve weeks learning how international databases worked, even some forensic work for Scotland Yard if she played her cards right.

And she took it; without much warning she took it, even if not to give herself some breathing space from how much her chest pined to be back in Spencer’s arms she had that night.

Bugsy headed to London, and didn’t look back.

2. The one with Maeve

Four Months. Bugsy had been in England for four months.

At first, they had called regularly, almost every other day, except the days she was just too tired to stay up until two am to call him when he got home. They had spent an hour on the phone at least; she had asked about the team, the cases, if he missed her yet which he always told her to knock it off because of course he missed her, and he had asked about London, and what England was like, and how Emily was doing.

Until around two months in when her schedule had changed to night shifts, and they could only ever communicate by texts, at which point he had been the one struggling to talk because he had no clue how to work his phone. She had called the odd time on her half an hour lunch break, but it was always rushed, never consistent, usually ending up with her excusing herself and hanging up on him fast because she was needed urgently somewhere else.

Cynically enough, the only time she could ever call was Sundays. Sundays when he was already busy, Sundays when he was admittedly on the phone, only he wasn’t talking to her.

He was talking to Maeve.

The geneticist he had been ready to tell her all about before JJ’s wedding, who had all but cleared up his migraines within a few sessions, who had asked him three days after Bugsy had flown out what had made his head flare up again and so he’d told her. Told her his best friend moved to another country temporarily, that he missed her and had been looking after her cats for her while she was gone because her new landlord wouldn’t let them have pets. And it had spiralled from there, she had asked more about the rest of his life, and he had asked about hers, and suddenly they weren’t just talking about his migraines anymore, they were flirting.

He hadn’t told Maeve that he was in love with said friend who had taken a great opportunity with both hands and fled the second she could. He couldn’t hold it against her, not when he was choosing his calls with Maeve over the only chance he had to speak to Bugsy, and four months really wasn’t that long in the scheme of things.

That was what he’d tried telling himself at least. He missed her more than anything, and the only thing that he’d found combatted the sting of her being gone was Maeve.

Maeve; who he had never seen, whose voice was sweet and alluring, who got his humour the way girls rarely ever did (besides Bug ofcourse). Who liked what he liked, and could talk his ear off about what she’d been reading, and about her day in the lab.

She was Bugsy in every other font, every other manner, and best of all she liked him. She told him weeks ago she liked him, that she wanted to date him, that he was her dream guy.

Call him a cynic for enjoying having a chance with someone, then that’s what he was.

Life since he had tried pushing away his unrequited feelings for one Prentiss girl had been going swimmingly. He liked their new team mate, Alex Blake, the brilliant linguist who warmed to him quite quickly; he had a girl at his heels who returned his feelings, who was everything he always said he looked for in a partner, even without having ever seen her face, and he was rather enjoying having Nico and Sergio around to keep him company.

But as it always did, the contented limbo he’d found himself in where he might actually be able to get a girlfriend came to a screeching halt on Sunday afternoon when he was stepping outside at three forty-five, readying himself for the ten minute walk to the nearest phone booth for their call at four pm on the dot. He had just about locked his front door, turning on his heel with his scarf draped over his shoulders when he had collided with someone’s chest.

“Oh I’m so- Bugsy?”

“Spencer!” She smiled at him wider than she ever had before, and she threw her arms over his shoulders because he had never protested to her affection before, “It’s so good to see you- I missed you so much, there’s so much I have to tell you-”

“What are you doing here?” It sounded like a confrontation, though he hadn’t meant it that way, just that he hadn’t been expecting her back for another two weeks at least and he certainly hadn’t expected to see her today, right before he was about to go call the girl he was sort of seeing, sort of not.

She bristled at his tone, because he didn’t sound nearly as happy to see her as she had expected. Pulling away, she realised he hadn’t even bothered to hug her back, and she tried to shove away the embarrassment that she’d never ever felt in front of him before.

“I- just- I wanted to surprise you. Interpol said I could finish early since I’d finished all my paperwork and could take the exams online in a few weeks,” She stammered, feeling uncharacteristically stuck for what to say. He flicked a look down to his wrist, his brows furrowed like she was taking up too much time, “Is something wrong, did I do something wrong?”

“No, you just-” He breathed heavily out of his nose, running a hand through his hair, “I’m late for something,”

“I’ll drive you!” She jumped at the chance, fishing for her keys in her pocket, “Car’s right out front, I sort of just threw it there because I wanted to see you,”

“I’m walking,” He said, in that frustrated tone again and she stopped looking at her jacket, her eyes snapping to his as he looked past her like she was in his way.

“O-okay, well then do you want company?” She said, her bag heavy with the souvenir she got him, though now it seemed to be weighing her down.

“It’s sort of personal,” He replied shortly, like she was a stranger selling him something on his doorstep, when really he was just cursing his luck that the girl he’d spent months trying to get over was here in front of him like someone was waving a bone in his face and he was a pup being told to sit. He was cursing the fact that he had spent hours and hours dreaming of the minute he’d see her again and she had showed up out of the blue after weeks of little to no communication like a damn hallucination of the senses.

She stopped then, her face contorting into a frown, “Is everything okay, are you sure I didn’t do anything-”

“You could have called, I’m kind of busy, Bugsy,” Spencer replied, even though he knew he was being unreasonable. It wasn’t her fault she was unravelling all of his progress just by being there. He thought he was finally getting over her, and with one whiff of her perfume, of her shampoo mixed with her natural scent, he was remembering just how in love with her he had been just a few months ago, like Pavlov’s fucking dog.

Her face fell then, into something kicked and hurt, “Sorry- my phone died on the plane, I didn’t even think, I just- I just wanted to see you,”

He faltered, the frustration leaking out of him, but before he could really say much else, she’d taken a step away, swung around to head for the stairs, “Sorry, I’ll call next time, sorry I got in your way, Spence,”

And she sounded genuine, not annoyed like he would expect for someone who’d been spoken to like trash. The guilt seeped in almost immediately, but then his mind ticked over the minutes he had left until Maeve would be expecting a call. Nine minutes now, he would need to speed walk.

He could make it up to Bugsy as soon as he was done with the girl who was almost her but not.

–

Spencer felt like an idiot. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the look on her face when she had left his apartment, nor had he not stopped chiding himself for not heading straight out after her.

His phone call with Maeve hadn’t gone how he’d expected, which would have been the only thing soothing the burn of his scathing tone, except she had hung up rather abruptly after he had suggested they meet up, something that had played on his mind for weeks now.

“Are you being safe?” He asked, the payphone hard and cold in his hand as he pressed it to his ear.

She chuckled softly down the phone, a sound that would have made his heart flutter if he hadn’t been feeling so wound up about seeing Bugsy, “Yes, I’m being safe,”

“Do you think he knows about us?” Spencer dared to ask after a moment of silence, because he could tell it was worrying her too. He wondered if the two of them would be dating by now if it wasn’t for the fact she had a stalker who may or may not turn his attention to Spencer if he realised they were seeing one another.

“No, as far as I can tell he doesn’t,” She said, her voice slightly more rigid than what he was used to. Her voice was always honey smooth when they spoke, and Spencer had more than enough time to wonder if it ever matched what she looked like. “And we need to keep it that way,”

The line went dead, and with it the only thing that he’d been telling himself was worth hurting his best friend even the tiniest bit went with it.

Spencer felt like an asshole. He’d tried calling Bugsy’s phone, then when she hadn’t answered he’d tried asking Penelope, who said she’d gone to visit JJ, Will and Henry since he was too busy.

At least that would have lightened her mood, he hoped, as he walked into the office Monday morning, and saw her at her desk, already chatting to Penelope with Derek’s arm around her shoulder.

She was all smiles today, pretty much how she had looked yesterday before he had all but kicked her out, and the sinking feeling in his chest tripled when she looked past Penelope’s shoulder and saw him. Her eyes wavered for a second, head turning downwards as if she hadn’t properly spotted him,

“Pretty boy! Look who it is,” Derek called him over, even though he was already speed walking and he stopped in front of her, looking her head to toe for the first time fully.

He realised then her hair was slightly different, that she’d had it cut shorter since the last time he’d seen her, that she’d gotten a new ear piercing. It made her look older, more mature than when he’d last seen her, or maybe he had just not seen her in so long. Maybe he just hadn’t bothered, he thought painfully.

“I saw him yesterday,” Bugsy said, and he felt caught immediately, Penelope’s head whipping to him, “He was kinda busy though, weren’t you, Spence? More of a passing visit.”

She sounded indifferent to yesterday’s rudeness, like it hadn’t really phased her despite the fact he’d seen for his own eyes the way her expression dropped.

“I was- I had an appointment,” He said, because he felt the need to explain himself even if he couldn’t.

She smiled at him, something dampened and fake, “I leave for a few months and suddenly boy wonder is too busy to talk to me, what is the world coming to,” She joked, and Spencer felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, though Penny and Derek laughed.

“No, really, I had an appointment-” He tried to reason, but Penelope stopped him before he could fret too much, his hands wringing and he tried to lie on the spot without getting caught.

“She’s just kidding, Spence, don’t worry,” Pen shook him off warmly, quickly grabbing Bugsy’s arm tightly, the faint scar where she’d had her surgery trailing up her skin, “Now, to my bat cave, where we can talk all about just how good British guys are in bed without the boy germs getting all over our gossip,”

Bugsy laughed, allowing herself to be pulled along, right past Spencer without a second glance, despite the fact he looked like he was about to throw up.

Why hadn’t he thought about that? Why hadn’t he considered for a second that she would meet anyone, if not seriously, then for a one night stand? What if all those nights she was too busy to talk she had been with someone, someone much cooler and hotter and overall more experienced than he was. He was thirty years old and he had only ever slept with two women, one being Austin the bartender she’d told him to go after despite him lingering around her the whole night, the other being a girl he’d met in O’Keeffes after a hard case when he had been a few months sober, wanting anything, anyone, to take his mind away from going back to the little vial of trouble.

How could he be so stupid? Of course she’d be hooking up with other people. She was young and gorgeous and smart as a whip and single. She’d be any guy's dream.

He knew he was being so, so disgustingly hypocritical. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Maeve for months, and yet here he was seething with jealousy at the very thought of Bugsy being with someone who could love her without feeling guilty for loving her.

Spencer swallowed his pride and set his stuff down on his desk, watching Penelope grab Alex and drag her to her bat cave on her way, the older woman lighting up at the fact she was meeting the Bugsy Prentiss.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and felt a migraine start to ache behind his eyes.

–

“Alex- Blake, where are you going?” Spencer called, shoving his cell in his back pocket as he jogged toward the woman about to climb into the SUV.

Sure enough, Bugsy had been back in the office for one hour before they were getting pulled into another case, and she was more than happy to jump in to help with her new found skills in Interpol.

It was a gruesome case, which was saying something for all the shit they’d seen. The UnSub was amputating legs off one victim to then put onto his next one. There had been one guy waking up in his hotel room with both legs missing below the knee, then another gentleman had walked into an ER room with legs that weren’t his own attached to his sockets.

It made Bugsy’s skin crawl, but that was simply a day's work for them. They were at the most recent victim’s body; a woman who seemed to have been too weak to survive the surgery had been dumped on the street with her limbs switched to someone else’s. They had at least one other victim they hadn’t found yet, the girl thought darkly.

“Hotch called, he wants us back at the station ASAP,” The woman replied, Bugsy at her side.

“Can you give me a ride to 5th and Main, it’s on the way?” Spencer asked, trying his hardest to ignore the frown the youngest Prentiss gave him, confusion written across her face.

“Uh, yeah sure. What’s at 5th and Main?” Alex asked, also confused as to what was so pressing he needed to side track their case.

“I need to talk to somebody,” He replied shortly, the same cut off tone he’d used with Bugsy just the day before, and Alex faltered.

“Yeah, uh, okay. Sure.” She agreed, not wanting to rock the boat considering she was still so new to the BAU. She looked over at Bugsy, who seemed disgruntled as she headed for the passenger side, Spencer climbing into the back of the SUV with a troubled look on his face when their eyes met in the rear-view mirror.

“You’re coming with us?” He asked, looking on edge when he saw she’d gotten into their car and not into JJ’s like she had on their way over there.

“Yeah, is that a problem?” Bugsy asked, and he shrugged, playing with his fingertips in his lap.

“No, that’s fine, I just didn’t know you were coming with us,” He replied shortly, his face starting to warm when he realised how rude he’d sounded. He heard her sigh, and look out the window with no more protest in her.

Alex didn’t ask questions as she put the handbrake down, perhaps sensing the tension in the car between the two agents, and she didn’t need to be a profiler to tell there was either a lot unsaid between them or maybe even words that no one could take back.

Either way she did as he’d asked, because Bugsy hadn’t actually protested, just bit at her fingernails that said she was thinking too hard, and stepped on the gas.

–

The car pulled around to where a dimly lit payphone sat, empty and looking like it hadn’t been used in years. Which it probably hadn’t, besides as a dog urinal.

Alex stopped the car, and Spencer was already opening the door before she could even put it into neutral, “Do you want us to wait?”

“Uh, you know what, it might take a while, so I’ll just get a cab back,” He said, his tone clipped and leaving little room for questions. He felt Bugsy staring at him in confusion from the front seat, and he avoided her gaze like the plague, even if there was something sad in them that he was being so distant. “Thanks anyway,” He hopped out the car slamming the door shut, and digging through his pocket for change as he headed for the payphone.

Alex drove off, and he felt his chest get lighter for it, because he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the act.

He hated lying, especially to her. Every morsel of his being writhed in discontent whenever he would lie, like the truth was just begging to slip out one way or another, and he knew he would only feel all the more guilty for it as soon as the case was over and he couldn’t avoid her eyes that haunted him like a wraith or her touch that seemed to have been kept to herself since he had snubbed her hug at his doorway.

He knew he was pulling away, knew she was doing the same thing, and he hated it.

Bugsy sat in the car, her face moody as anything as she glared out the window and Alex took the corner around the block.

“So is it usually like this between you two?” Alex dared to ask, her food steady on the pedal, “The lingering looks, the awkward silences? From what Penelope told me, the two of you are as close as can be,”

“Yeah, usually we are,” Bugsy replied coldly, and within a second she was unplugging her seatbelt, “In fact, pull back around the block. I’m done with him being an asshole without an explanation.”

Alex felt like she had just pulled a pin from her grenade with her delicate question, though she had meant entirely well, and did as the girl told her to, worried just what might blow up in her face if she didn’t.

Spencer had already dialled the number he knew off by heart, with or without his eidetic memory, by the time they pulled around.

His face dropped, knowing the returning call would be coming any minute now and he just hoped Maeve wasn’t too worried about him. But he had no time to think about her, because the second he saw Bugsy getting out of the car he could tell she was pissed.

Pissed in a way she had never been with him, but then he supposed, he had never treated her like that either.

“I’m going to give you one chance to tell me the truth, Spencer, because I’m tired of the clipped responses and the pushing me away,” She said, walking over to him like he owed her money. Which he didn’t. But he did owe her a good explanation as to what the hell was going on with them, “Did I do something? You can tell me if I’m an asshole, I know I can be an asshole, but you have to tell me so I can fix it-”

“You haven’t done anything, Bug, just please get back in the car,” Spencer cut her off, which was clearly the wrong move as he saw her brow raise at him.

“Something’s not right, Spencer,” Alex agreed, though she held back because hurricane Bugsy seemed to be more than enough intimidation for the guy, “What’s the deal?”

“What do you mean? Why did you guys come back?” He rushed, because he could feel his face warming, and he played with his fingertips like he did when he was struggling.

“Don’t answer a question with a question,” Bugsy chided, and he rubbed his palm with his thumb self-soothingly, and that was what tripped him up. Her eyes zeroed on his hands, looking back up at him and he almost went white at the predicament he’d found himself in, “You’re lying about something,”

“No, I’m not, I would never lie to you-” She pulled his hands apart, looking at him with hurt written across her soft features.

“Bullshit, I know when you’re lying, Spencer, or did you just forget that we’re best friends. That seems to mean nothing to you nowadays,” She snapped, and he could only look back at the phone booth, knowing that she would be calling any second now, “Are you even listening to me?”

Her tone was hurt, wounded, because he had to admit he was being inconsiderate.

“A while back, I found a geneticist that helped clear up my migraines, and we stayed in touch while you were in London,” He said, because that was all true, and she couldn’t call him a liar again if he was telling the truth.

“So? What does that have to do with the case,” Alex prompted, her own face scrunched in ire as he hopped around the subject.

“I think maybe my friend may be able to see something we’ve missed.” Spencer rushed out, his eyes puppy like as he willed Bugsy to stop looking so damn betrayed.

“You have four of the best minds I know back at the station, you have a woman with a biochemistry master's standing in front of you who dabbled in medicine for fun, but you need your friend for help?” Alex responded, because there was no way he was getting out of the hole he’d dug himself if she had anything to say about it. She too, as new to the team as she was, had no time for secrets on a job where trust meant everything.

“I know, but sometimes a different perspective helps me think better, okay?” He replied, his hand itching to take his palm back because he knew it still wasn’t the full truth.

Bugsy scoffed, crossing her arms over one another, and shifting her weight to one foot.

“You’re being ambiguous, you always do that when you’re lying,” She muttered, loud enough for him to hear and he gulped, turning his head to the ground.

“All of this begs a bigger question, why did you ask me to bring you?” Alex asked, because she was thinking the same thing.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Spencer said, but his spine straightened impossibly when the payphone began ringing, and he seemed skittish like a naughty school child.

“You could have asked JJ or Morgan to drive you, but you asked me. You had a problem with Bugsy coming, because you didn’t think she’d be with us, so what’s the deal? Why me?” Alex pushed, and Spencer flustered, his head whipping around to where the high pitched chime continued, and he knew she didn’t have much time before the line went dead.

“Alex, please,” Spencer begged, feeling Bugsy’s eyes boring into the side of his head as he avoided her gaze like the plague.

“Just answer the question,” Bugsy bit out, because she was sick of being ignored all day, of being treated like she was contaminated or like he had never known her a day in his life. Not when she had flown on the first plane back to see him because she missed him more than she could ever tell him.

Not when she had been racing up the stairs to his apartment, her souvenir in her bag, the words on the foreword written in her own hand ready to tell him how she felt.

Because she knew it, after weeks of not seeing him, hours of just missing him and the few texts back and forth, she knew it. She knew she had to tell him, even if they had to brush it under the rug to be friends again, even if it was a shot in the dark she had to tell him.

She couldn’t choke it down anymore.

Only when she’d gotten there, thrown her arms around him, he almost felt like a stranger beneath her hand, almost felt like he never even knew her.

Spencer sighed heavily, looking at Alex because he thought he might just crack if he looked at Bugsy when he said it.

“Because I didn’t want them to know about her, alright?”

And she knew it then, knew it by the way he’d softened entirely when he said her, the way he seemed to melt just by thinking of her, the way he cowered into taking a step back towards the phone booth. It wasn’t just his geneticist, it was someone else entirely. Someone so much more to him.

Bugsy felt a lump in her throat, and she forced with all her might to not let her eyes well with tears. Because friends didn’t feel like they’d been sucker punched in the gut at hearing they were seeing someone else. Friends didn’t feel an all consuming jealousy writhe under their skin at the idea of them being with someone who wasn’t them, feeling something for someone who wasn’t them.

That wasn’t what just friends did.

And Bugsy thought with horror, as he picked up the phone and spoke in hushed, gentle tones that he once did with her, that they might never be friends again.

3. The one with their first date

Things were weird. Really weird. And painful. Really, really fucking painful.

Bugsy and Spencer had never been like this, never been so cold besides the first time they’d ever met, and even then she had warmed him from the inside out. She was sharing her sharlotka within hours of even knowing him, never even knowing he was knee deep in an addiction he was struggling to face alone, and that she had made him feel better than he had in weeks with her smile and her kindness and her quick witted brain.

Things were strange between them, and it was becoming noticeable too.

She boarded the jet behind Alex, the woman taking a seat next to Hotch at the table, the only other seat left being next to Reid, who stopped midway through what he was saying.

“It’s difficult to lure most people from the security of their own homes, eighty four percent of stalking victims have some sort of original connection with their stalkers, meaning-” He paused, and so did she for a fraction of a second, debating whether to sit beside him. She straightened quickly, dipping her head down and looking to the floor, and bristling past the empty seat to sit herself next to JJ on the couch.

He cleared his throat, trying to look like his face hadn’t dropped in hurt, and continued.

Hotch and JJ exchanged a look, the same silent message reading clear in their eyes.

The blonde looked up from her file as the others chatted, Penelope piping up from their computer, and glanced at the younger woman who was unpacking her things on her lap, despite there being a perfectly good table next to them.

“You alright, Bug?” JJ asked, trying not to seem too worried, yet she knew she was coming off troubled by the tense behaviour from the pair of them.

It had been three weeks of this, the silences, the uncomfortable pauses, the avoiding each other at all costs. The only time they ever really spoke was on a case, when they were closing in on an UnSub and their feelings had to be put to one side for the moment. Well, her feelings. Because all of his feelings were occupied as of the moment. With Maeve.

She couldn’t stomach talking about the woman anymore, couldn’t stand Derek’s teasing remarks about how lover boy was getting lucky, or Penelope’s thousands and one questions about the geneticist that she knew had come from a place of care, or Alex’s motherly guidance on his love life. The entire thing made her feel queasy, and she stayed quiet most days in the way he’d always hated, the way he’d always tried to pry her out of.

But nowadays he didn’t bother. Didn’t bother much with her at all, really.

“Yep,” Bugsy said, her lips tight, “Peachy,”

JJ knew not to ask any more than that.

–

Human marionettes were a first for her, she had to admit. They had already found two victims stuffed into boxes with craft paper surrounding them, their limbs almost entirely broken out of their sockets ante-mortem. It was a time sensitive case, with two deaths in three days and no sign of slowing down, and so that meant that of course the two brains of the team were assigned together, even if Hotch saw the way her face dropped when he’d said it.

She was drawing the geographical profile on the board, the squeaking of the marker against the screen the only sound in the room aside from Spencer’s flicking of pages.

“Did you get the first dump site?” He asked, even though he knew she more than likely would have done.

“Mhm,” She said, not bothering to actually say anything, because it was a stupid question she knew he was only asking to fill the awkward silence between them.

“What about the store that sold the outfits, did you get-” He started, only for her to cut him off with a clipped tone.

“Got it, and I got the radius around the store, and I got the second dumpsite.” Bugsy replied, capping the lid to the marker pen and setting it down on the desk beside him, “I’m going to get coffee. Want one?”

Though she didn’t stick around long enough to really hear his response. She simply waltzed out of the room to the tiny kitchenette the police station had to offer, in search of anything that would keep her occupied and away from snapping at him.

What had she really got to be mad at him for? For getting a girlfriend? For rubbing it in everyone's face how happy she made him, how perfectly suited she was for him? Except she didn’t think that last one was necessarily true, it just felt that way because it cut her so deep to hear about the girl who was everything she wanted to be. She had no right to be mad at him for anything except being distant with her since she got back from London.

She still made him a coffee half heartedly, swirling in a tonne of sugar the way she knew he would like, because he never changed being so perfectly him in the time she was away.

She used to tell him he didn’t need all that sugar because he was sweet enough as he was, because it was true. He used to be entirely honeyed and saccharine when he spoke to her, now she was lucky if she got a full good morning.

Bugsy bit her lip to stop it from quivering, and took the mugs back to the tiny office they were stationed in, seeing Alex at the door and hearing half their conversation.

“Is this about, uh, phone booth girl?” Blake asked, and Bugsy wanted to snap because what else would they be talking about. Her name was Maeve, she wanted to snarl, Maeve, Maeve, Maeve, Queen of the Fairies and of Spencer’s heart, Maeve, Maeve, Maeve.

She never hated a name so viscerally, though she knew in deep down it wasn’t her fault. Maeve didn’t do anything wrong, she just fell in love with Dr Spencer Reid and his charms. She couldn’t blame her, really. It wasn’t difficult to do so.

“She wants to meet,” Spencer’s voice was soft and nervous, and it was the most she’d heard him talk all day.

Bugsy froze, and Alex’s jaw dropped, “Wait, you guys have never met?” She saw Spencer shake his head just before she rounded the corner back into the office, feeling like she was intruding immediately, “Aren’t you curious what she looks like?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter what she looks like, she’s already the most beautiful girl in the world to me,” She stopped at the doorway, feeling like she’d had the entire cup of hot coffee dumped over her chest in a scalding pain the minute she’d heard it.

Spencer called her beautiful many, many times before, both when she’d been done up to the nines and even when she was running away from a damn wedding in the middle of a storm and she looked like a sewer rat.

But that didn’t matter, because everything about Maeve was beautiful to him, and that was where she seemed to draw the short straw. Because who would find her selfishness beautiful? Or her spoiled nature, or how she could be so crass and rude she had been in more fights before she started the BAU than she’d care to admit. But Maeve was nothing like that. She was sweet and gentle and beautiful on the inside.

Bugsy plonked his coffee down harder than she’d wanted to, and he thanked her, pausing for a second as he looked between Alex and Bugsy, the second woman now sipping her steaming coffee freely and pinning maps to an adjacent board as if she couldn’t hear a word they were saying.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” He said, fiddling with his sleeves, “I mean; I slouch, my hair’s too long, my tie is perpetually crooked,”

“Your hair’s fine,” Alex combats back, watching the girl down her drink in a few sips, “Jesus, do you have asbestos in your throat?”

Bugsy turned to her and shrugged silently, “I’m tired, I needed the caffeine,”

Alex watched her with a hesitant eye, as if she was keeping just as close an eye on her as Jennifer but didn’t want to say, before she stepped away from the doorway, “Alright, I gotta run. You kids update us if you find something out.”

And with that Blake took her leave, leaving the room in silence for a moment, and Bugsy heard Spencer thinking too loud with that big brain of his.

She sighed, tacking a map of the city up next to the other one with points of interest noted on, “You’ll be fine,” She said after a minute, and he froze.

“I’m sorry?” He asked, formally like she asked to sit next to him on the bus or to squeeze past him in a store.

“I said you’ll be just fine on your date with Maeve,” She reiterated, using a purple sharpie to start drawing the routes the victims took to work.

Spencer sighed, shuffling papers around his desk, “How can you be so sure?”

She looked at him then, properly looked at him and he felt his breath almost catch. He’d been telling another one of his half truth’s earlier, because he couldn’t very well say just how many night’s he’d thought about Bugsy being all over him, about kissing her and sweeping her off her feet, about squeezing her close to him in a passionate embrace and never letting her slip away again. He thought about all the times she professed how much she loved him and how good a friend he was to her, and how happy she made him, and how he had spent the first year of knowing her getting to know her for that big brain of hers that rivalled his own.

He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything, but he couldn’t have her. He could have Maeve though. He could meet her and fall in love with her and marry her. He could do it. But she still wouldn’t be her.

She smiled at him like she had a secret, one she was willing to share with him, one that came at a cost but she would give it to him anyway because it was him and she was so good to him and deserved so much better.

“What’s not to like about you, Spencer?” She said softly, her expression that of a street dog looking for scraps.

He swore he shuddered when she said his name like that, but he tried a smile back at her anyway. But it was too late, she’d already turned away to continue plotting the points on the map.

Spencer felt his chest swell in a way Maeve had never gotten it to do.

–

He felt stupid. Half an hour of primping himself in the BAU bathroom, worrying and fussing over what he was wearing and if his hair sat right and if his face looked too skinny, he had made it to the restaurant only to baulk at the last minute when he’d seen a guy in a booth flicking his head to look back at where he was sat in a window seat, a red rose potted in the middle of the table and an empty chair across from him.

He had panicked and called Maeve, told her to go home because her stalker was there at the restaurant, and she had done just that with little to no question. Only for him to see, minutes later, the guy he thought was her stalker being approached by another guy and he realised he had likely been looking out the window to check for taxi’s parking outside the restaurant.

Spencer had blown it, the one chance he had at meeting her in person, and he felt more like an idiot than ever.

He didn’t care about the weird rift between them at that moment, he just wanted to see Bugsy, because she always seemed to know what to say to make him feel better. Like she had a talent for it, even when he had not been the best friend himself.

He knew he had to fix it, knew it didn’t matter if it was a little unethical to be on the cusp of having a girlfriend whilst also pining after his best friend, he didn’t care. He wanted to set things right with her just to have his best friend back.

He walked up to her apartment complex, the excuse already brewing in his head that he missed Nico and Sergio, that he maybe missed her a whole lot too but he knew the cats were a sweetened deal way of getting him through the door. Because she would never say no to him seeing the boys.

And then he would tell her, that he’d been an asshole the past few weeks, that he’d been struggling to understand how to balance time between her and his almost girlfriend, because that was a much better half truth than the fact he was trying to bury his feelings for her so deep they couldn’t see the light of day or else his life would be entirely ruined.

That’s exactly what he would say.

Spencer felt a little better than he had leaving the restaurant knowing he’d messed up his chance. In all honesty, he was excited to have Bugsy back, even if his night wasn’t exactly going to plan.

He waltzed up the stairs he’d been on a million times. She loved his apartment, she always said so, but he insisted her TV was bigger and so they usually stayed at hers to watch Dr Who when the newest episodes came out.

Spencer hesitated for a second, hoping his plan worked before he rapped on the door with boney knuckles, his hand fingering the strap of his bag nervously as he heard her moving behind the door.

“One second!” She called, and he chuckled, she had probably fallen asleep on the sofa without pants on, or maybe even just gotten out the shower, either way he heard her scrambling to get clothes on and then-

She swung the door open, and his eyes quickly dropped to her neck that had a long row of hickeys trailing down to her collar bone. His small smile at seeing her vanished like one of those magic tricks he liked to do, and he realised her lip gloss was smudged over her chin, her shirt definitely wasn’t her own and he didn’t actually think she had even bothered to put on underwear beneath the large band tee she’d clearly thrown on in the middle of passion.

Bugsy looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“Spencer!” She said, her voice choked up like she was exhausted, and he felt his stomach turn. He looked away from her, like he couldn’t stand to even look at her, “I thought you were with Maeve- yo-your date,”

“I had to cancel, it wasn’t safe,” He murmured, tugging the strap of the bag tighter around his shoulder.

He felt like a complete loser. More than he ever had being shoved into lockers, being dipped into toilet water, being led around by the librarian and her damn butterscotch.

Spencer felt like his chest was caving in, which he knew was fair on no one to admit, but it was true.

“Are you okay?” She asked immediately, scanning him over for wounds, “Are you hurt- Is Maeve okay?”

He opened his mouth to reply when he heard foot steps and a hand appeared around her waist, tugging her into a muscled body as the door opened wider.

“Who is it, babe?” A deep voice spoke, and Spencer felt his face go green when he saw the adonis of a man who stood behind her, his chest littered with smudged lip gloss and bruises resembling her own neck trailing down to his crotch.

Her face was on fire when Spencer looked back at her, something betrayed in the hazel of his eyes which he knew was entirely illicit to feel in the circumstances, but it was true.

“Fuck off, Renly,” She shoved him back behind the door, looking at Spencer like the friendship between them they were scrambling to salvage hung in the balance with whatever she said next. “You remember Renly, my lab partner at Johns,”

Spencer nodded, the image of her lips on his pubic bone wouldn’t leave his mind, and he wondered what came after that, “I remember him,”

She nodded back, and they went silent.

They’d found themselves back at that stalemate.

TAGLIST:

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions. @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3 @rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist t @theoraekenslover @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @greenvita @busy-buzzing

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader

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fillinforlater · 6 months ago

Text

C'mon

Choi Yunjin (Jini) x Oh Haewon, Kang Seulgi

Length: 7895 words

Tags: lesbian sex, girl x girl relationships, idol x idol, fingering, licking, heart break, drunk sex, hook up, thigh riding, eating out, there is a story in this, like really I tried doing drama and all that

TW: rusty writing, rusty editing

Inspiration: "C'mon" by JINI (if you pay attention to the lyrics, they might come up in this fic again)

(A/N: yeah, I'm back for a hot second. I had this fic in the freezer, topped it off with a hot/cute ending to give you hope that I might return xD I hope you enjoy it all; the plot, the sex. Happy Pride Month, remember to be excellent to each other and accept them, even if you might not understand everything <3)

“Have you seen the new trainee?”

Jini looks up from her phone, the instagram story instantly forgotten at the sight of Haewon entering the living room. She has a white towel atop her round face, an oversized t-shirt enveloping not only her entire upper body but also her butt and crotch. Jini is very much used to this style, especially post showering, hell, she even started to copy Haewon after only a few weeks of training together. Yeah, it only took weeks. Everything went so fast.

“Oh, you mean Sullyoon?” Jini responds, eyes blatantly fixated on Haewon’s lips. “Yeah, I saw her. She is very pretty.”

“Oh yeah?” Haewon raises her chin and slowly steps closer to the couch Jini sits on. “So she is very pretty.”

“Not only very pretty,” Jini breathes, her voice teasing, she drops the phone. “I think she’ll be the visual of the group.”

Haewon is right above her now, staring down at Jini’s smirk. Jini knows that her girlfriend can never resist her addictive teasing, the naughty words that are nothing but a set up to get in the mood. It works like a charm, even right after a shower, Haewon is ready to get sweaty again.

“You’re on a first name basis too,” Haewon remarks before suddenly grabbing Jini’s t-shirt and pulling the stunning stunned girl's face close. Jini huffs, her face is flushed with thrill, the excitement of getting Haewon aroused and ready to press her body on hers. “Why are you wearing my t-shirt again?”

“I like how big it is… and how it smells.”

“Take it off.”

An order Jini gladly follows, though she remains purposefully slow to enjoy Haewon’s gaze on her toned, bare body underneath the thin, white cloth, which is quickly discarded behind the couch. Haewon’s knee carefully opens Jini’s legs as both of them lean closer to each other, yet to touch, but the heat of their bodies already merging.

“Only panties?” Haewon notices, not looking at the tiny pink thing covering Jini’s sex, hell, she’s not even looking at the nude hills with hard nipples atop of them. She only focuses on Jini’s eyes and the black haired girl wouldn’t have it any other way. This is why she loves this dork so much.

“I bet it’s the same for you, babe,” Jini giggles, finally courageous enough to dig her hand beneath the towel into Haewon’s moist hair. “I need you.”

“I know, baby. Have I told you I love you before?”

Haewon’s dorkiness is showing. Before Jini can respond, the soon-to-be-leader shoves her knee right on Jini’s pussy while her hands both grind over Jini’s sensitive breasts. The timing is a bit off, the movement sloppy, but Jini would not have it any other way. Haewon could even do some cringy shit right now, and Jini would still be wet and horny for the older’s fingers.

“Y-yes, babe,” Jini moans, biting her pointer as to not alert someone who might possibly pass this dorm room. “You do it all the time, I—oh my God!”

Haewon’s tongue glides over her girlfriend's collar, up her throat to her chin, Jini’s chin, the most sensitive chin in the world. It’s a unique spot to be so erogenous, and Haewon is ready to use it for Jini’s peak pleasure. The moment she nibbles on the smooth curve, Jini pulls her in, the rest of their curves melting, Jini leaking on Haewon’s knee, then her digits hovering down her abs, into her heat—

“Haewon, Haewon, I love you!”

The debut is approaching rapidly, like an unstoppable train, days filled with dancing, recording, dancing, shootings, dancing—most nights, Jini just falls asleep the second she meets her bed. Luckily, Haewon is still there, together they fight through the tough times, share a secret relationship, until Haewon has to stay longer for extra meetings and other stuff.

“Being a leader is hard,” she says and kisses Jini’s forehead before she heads out to yet another extra schedule. “I’ll see you later, babe.”

Jini stares at the ceiling, tired yet unable to use the four hours she has to sleep properly. She misses Haewon, her touch, the shared intimacy. It’s the one thing that has carried her through the rough trainee and group building process, to lose it now is unimaginable to her. Maybe the best times are already past the two of them, maybe the homophobic culture surrounding them will have their love suppressed to the bare minimum, absolute secrecy, where Jini has to ask herself:

Is this really love?

Haewon returns earlier than Jini expected, out of breath, face equally exhausted and worried. Jini lifts her blanket and Haewon slips right next to her, wordlessly, only deep breaths leaving her lips. This is very much not the Haewon Jini is used to, no amount of training has her this quiet.

“Is everything okay, love?” Jini carefully asks, hands on Haewon’s soft, beautiful cheeks. “I’m here if you want to talk. I’m also here if you just want to sleep.”

“Can you bring me the tequila?” Haewon whispers defeatedly and Jini hurries to get the bottle and two shot glasses. In the faint moonlight falling through the window behind her bed, she fills the glasses and hands one to Haewon, who immediately downs it, followed by a loud, exaggerated sigh.

“Tequila?” Jini asks with a small smile. “That bad?”

“It goes down so easily, easier than—” Haewon stops and reaches for Jini’s glass. Another shot of tequila goes down her throat in a blaze of fire. “Jini, I-I think we need to… put our relationship on hold.”

Jini sinks to the floor in front of her bed, in front of Haewon who looks down to her with sad, glistening eyes, though Jini feels already a lot closer to crying. Before it can happen however, Haewon guides the bottle to her girlfriend's lips, and the colorless, burning liquid makes Jini jerk up. Tequila stains her cheek, chin, Haewon’s t-shirt she stole out of her drawer last night.

“Careful, you’re spilling it everywhere,” Haewon cackles quietly, as if she doesn’t mean it.

“Haewon, why? I love you, I need you, please don’t break up with me,” Jini cries out but Haewon just goes for her chin and licks the liquor off of it. Jini calms down with a soft moan, while Haewon starts to hum and kiss all over her face.

“We are not breaking up. It’s just that… we won’t have any privacy. They will restructure the dorm rooms and the rest of the time, we’ll be learning choreographies. I just want to be honest with you—we won’t have any time, but I still love you, Jini.”

“A-and what if we tell them about us and ask them to give us our own room?”

A pained sick laugh leaves Haewon’s lips and she avoids looking at Jini, not able to bear those anxious eyes. Instead she focuses on pulling her onto the bed and getting a hand underneath the t-shirt.

“Don’t be silly, Jini. They will never accept us. They can never know about us, not even Lily. I don’t want them to hurt you.”

“I-I’m not scared of them,” Jini whines, while Haewon has her shirtless already. “I’m scared of losing you.”

“Don’t worry about that, baby, let’s just enjoy tonight.” Haewon’s tongue dances with Jini’s, not in the rhythm of their song for the millionth time, but lazily, sloppily. If there was a dance teacher, they’d complain about the execution, but Jini only cares that this tongue is there and makes her feel warm and wet.

“Touch me, Haewon, please.” Jini’s voice cracks during that moan as Haewon gladly flicks past her clit and fingers the dripping sex below.

“You too, Jini, put them on me. I love your smooth skin here I could—rub it forever.”

Jini gives it her all, always making sure to be spotless down there, which is quite the struggle in between all the schedules. But it’s the way Haewon likes it, Jini has never seen her with any hair down there. And so her fingers brush past the flawlessly shaven skin to the bundle that makes Haewon take deeper breaths—

—draws moans from her, loud and glorious, like her singing voice. The fingers dance, on the outside, then inside, back and forth, always careful. For the first time in a while, Jini feels her body relax, even as it twists and jerks at Haewon’s thrusting fingers and nipple-sucking lips.

“Jini, you’re so sexy.” Haewon’s voice is deep and Jini can’t remember when they got completely naked and moved to the couch, but she doesn’t care. More important is Haewon’s pretty pink pussy on her face as she sits on it. Jini eagerly gets her tongue inside while she feels Haewon’s gaze admire her midriff, her thighs, her sex that is—

“You’re dripping~” Haewon moans.

“You too, Unnie.” Jini can’t get enough of that addictive taste. She’d love for her mouth to be filled with it; to make Haewon cum messily has always been her goal. Up until now, it’s been amazing but not yet the way she imagined it. She will have to work harder, while her Unnie rubs up and down her clit.

“You’re about to cum again, I can feel it. Your hips are jerking up.”

“Just because your hands are so good, Unnie~”

Jini can feel Haewon smile against her crotch, those lips kiss right above her slit, never the way she does it, but it’s enough. Jini’s eyes tear up for the second time this night and with the flick of her tongue, Haewon makes her scream.

“Unnie, Unnie, I’m—”

Jini’s hips lose all their tension when her orgasm subsides and she falls into the cushions. In her blissful state, she forgets her duty to eat Haewon out, so the elder just chuckles and rubs her cunt on her nose. She will do so until the deed is finished and Jini can only admire her beautiful, stunningly hot and talented lover throw her head back in pleasure.

“Ji-Jini, I love you.”

“I love you too, Unnie.”

Jini has been warned, but no warning would have been sufficient for the absolute lack of touch, of intimacy, of love that was about to come in the following months. All there was was training, dancing until your legs fall off, singing until your ears are ringing—then came the posing for cameras.

The idol life she has always dreamed of finally started. It’s been a tough road, now she is living her dream, a dream filled with the painful reminder that she truly has to sacrifice everything. From a normal childhood to freetime to all kinds of relationships.

She knew about the last part, but it’s a different kind of sacrifice. If you can never find a person to love, you don’t know what you’re missing. However, if the person you love is right there and the only interaction you have is a bad quickie on the toilet, the pain will sting and remind her forever.

About that quickie, it was hasty, a dumb decision that wasn’t even a decision. Haewon had forgotten to close the door and Jini came bursting in because she needed time away from everyone, it was all too loud and if she had to listen to ‘Tank’ one more time—

They both just locked the door and locked lips. Haewon sat back down and pulled down the shorts of Jini’s stage outfit. It was all spontaneous, so Jini wasn’t properly shaven and Haewon did nothing to hide her visible disgust. However, she didn’t say anything and so Jini rode her thighs, admiring that beautiful face that still had a glint of hope for their relationship in her eyes. A tiny glint that Haewon did not try to uphold.

Other than that, she did not cum, neither did Haewon, and they both wordlessly left. No ‘I love you’ or a goodbye kiss—no one could suspect a thing. On this day, Jini’s heart started to break properly. She let it happen until a final surge had her bursting into Haewon’s and Sullyoon’s shared room.

“Haewon-unnie, we need to talk.”

“Oh my God, Jini, you scared me!”

Haewon slams the laptop in front of her shut. The entire room is filled in darkness, except for a faint light in the tiny, corner bathroom. Jini is in her haze, induced by alcohol, induced by sadness, but mostly induced by the desperate desire to get back to Haewon, back to her lover. She just walks over and wraps an arm around the leader's waist.

Unlike the beautiful times before, Jini is pushed away by a cold hand, stiff and it feels so heartless. She can’t see Haewon’s face but she knows it must have the same coldness. Is there anything left? Any heat from their past love that could move her an inch?

“I-I missed you,” Jini whimpers.

“Sullyoon is right there, you can’t just—”

“What is—” A sleepy Sullyoon stands in the door frame, a yawn interrupts her words and she blinds everyone by finding the light switch with her hand. “—happening here? Jini, what are you doing here?”

“I—I…”

“She was looking, no, bringing me something,” Haewon interjects and grabs Jini’s wrist. “I’ll come back in a second. Sorry for waking you up, Sully.”

Sullyoon’s eyes switch from one girl to the other before she weakly nods and moves back into the bathroom. The moment the door closes, Haewon drags Jini out of the room and the two find a quiet corner somewhere in the endless corridors of a mostly empty, dimly lit dormitory.

“Jini, what the fuck?” Haewon growls angrily and her eyes punch holes into Jini’s heart—her words follow quickly. She must not be thinking how much it hurts. “You can’t just do this, what will they think? Don’t touch me like that, not in public!”

“I-it was just a hug, everyone hugs in public.”

“But you do it differently. They will see, and they cannot—”

“Why?” Now Jini shouts and tears stream and fists fly against the next wall. “Why, why, why? I don’t care what they think! They can know it, they can hate us—fuck, Haewon, I just want you, I love you!”

“Jini you—this will kill our careers.”

“I don’t care.”

“You.” Haewon holds her mouth in shock. She steps back, her hand no longer on Jini’s wrist. “You can’t be serious.”

The shift in her eyes is beyond eerie. No horror film could ever encapsulate how scary this is. To see the person you love, your lover, turn from sadness to anger—away from everything Jini knew and loved—to poison. Words cannot reach her any longer, whatever Jini says will be held against her, it will all blow up. Even the L-word, it is powerless.

Nothing can be salvaged. But Jini will only realize this later.

“I am, I lo—”

“You just want to fuck me, is it that? Jini, you don’t give a fuck about my career, what I worked for, huh? You just want to have sex with me, and everyone can know it—you disgust me.”

“No, what, Haewon that’s—”

“Stop it, stop saying my name! You, I don’t want to hear it!”

Haewon reaches for Jini’s shirt—no, this is not one of Jini’s shirts. It’s the final Haewon-shirt she holds dear to her heart. The only remnants of their intimacy, hidden deep in her closet. She only wears it every now and then and now, in what is the nightmare of her life.

“That’s how you play, you take everything. My love, my career, my fucking t-shirts.” Haewon pulls at the hem. Jini fights back at first but with every tug she feels all power leave her body. But once again, it’s Haewon’s eyes and her poisonous words that kill her spirit. “You are such a piece of shit, Jini. To think I ever loved you.”

“What?”

“Give it back, give me back my youth, my love!”

“B-but Haewon, I love you, really!”

“Never say that again. You just played with my heart!”

The t-shirt is in Haewon’s hands, a couple of strings and tatters falling off of it. Jini falls to her knees in between them, only dressed in her bra and some pathetic gray sweatpants that quickly darken as her tears fall onto them. Haewon scoffs, her face puffy and angry. She is about to cry as ugly as Jini is, but this endless anger keeps her from doing it now.

For a few seconds, she just stands there breathing, looking at the salty rivers running down Jini’s face. They are no crocodile tears, genuine, absolutely real—but she dismisses it all and faces away from her former girlfriend.

“We had nothing,” Haewon whispers and walks away. “I wish I’d never met you.”

And Jini cries the entire night.

The only thing paler than Jini’s face is the wall behind her manager. Jini has been fixated on it ever since she entered the office room. It’s like she can look right through it, see what could have been—the prosperous idol career she always dreamed of, fun group activities, a successful love life in secrecy.

The disbelief in her manager’s eyes is like a mirror that suddenly reflects the truth back to her. Jini’s dream is a lie and now she has to face it, face to face with a livid man who has his palms on the desk. He can make the floor shake.

“You, you can’t be serious!”

“I am!” That shout was easy on her lips, easier than it should have been, with a heavy, racing heart, Jini stands up. She won’t back down to him, she will get her way out of here. “I don’t want to stay here for another day, I—”

“What the fuck, Jini!” In his rage, Jini’s manager stomps to the wall and smashes a small picture, its frame crashing down to the floor in a thousand sharp pieces. Now the wall is even paler and Jini can see that her real future might as well be an immovable object she is running straight into, head first, blood all over her—

“I will leave,” Jini proclaims, loud and unmistakable through the choleric pants of her enraged manager. “Or else I’ll let the world know what happens in this company.”

“Shut up.” A pained laugh as he looks down at the mess of colorful splinters and a now worthless picture. “You’re bluffing.”

“Oh yeah? I know at least half a dozen staff members who are a bit too fond of the trainees. Those helpless, naive, young little boys and girls.” Jini steps closer; he is now the palest in the room, both the light and the wall are no match. “That’s why I picked you. You did no such things. You just looked away, like we all did.”

“Jini, you stupid—”

“Stop defending them, for fucks sake.”

Every muscle in Jini’s body is filled with tension. She could really use some release, more than mere screams. A punching bag, some crazy rapid workout or maybe just a few drinks to knock her out. It’s the opposite for her manager, who lifelessly flops onto his chair and looks like he’d vomit at the next movement. Jini has never seen him cry and this might be the moment he does without actually showing tears.

“I—I can’t, this is my dream job, my future, my life.”

“It was mine too. Dreams die, so let me leave.”

“Why now? I just got this position and you’re going to ruin my chances of ever getting back.”

The manager starts to sob, though he cannot admit it. Jini feels sick to the stomach, while her anger does not fade. When he turns around, she just imagines the blank face of Haewon and her venomous words. She can argue against that all night, all day until it frees her of this hell hole.

“I’ve looked away for too long,” Jini proclaims and reaches for her coat. “If you don’t have anything to say, I’m leaving. Don’t try to stop me or else.”

“You’re cruel, Jini, I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

“Good.” She opens the door. On the other end of the long hallway are her former members, waddling to their next practice session or photo shooting or music show. Whatever. Luckily, she can only see their backs, each of them a bit exposed, sweaty—then there is Haewon, her hand on Sullyoon’s back, a bit too intimate. “You won’t even hear from me, I’m basically dead.”

“Hey, it’s me.” Jini is about to ignore and delete the voicemail, but this is from a person that actually cares about her. “I heard what happened. Look, I dunno why it happened or if you are feeling good or bad about it—I’m just your idiot brother after all—but I know just the place you might need right now. I’ll send you the address. Don’t worry, it’s girls only. From what I heard, they are very popular amongst your kind. I really hope you’re doing fine.”

Jini cracks a weak smile. She hasn’t left her apartment in days, only reaching out to very specific friends to tell them about what happened, her decision to leave the company. Actually, no one knows about her break up, the relationship with Haewon. It was all a well-kept secret not even her best friends knew about.

As for her brother, he is the only one in her family who knows about her sexuality. The rest would most likely not accept her, hell, her father hasn’t really talked to her ever since she became a trainee. Jini’s life has developed far away from her family, especially her other relatives. Hearing her brother's voice feels like a relief with the bitter aftertaste of loneliness. Lonely, like the tiny apartment room she now lives in.

Maybe it’s time for her to go out again. One night of nothing but drinking and mindless flirting, regretting it all the next day—and then it’s time for her to look forward. She can’t stay in this apartment, this state of sorrow and grief forever. Before this new found feeling of ‘fuck it all’ can go away, she puts on her prettiest dress and a tiny bit of make-up. Luckily, the bar is not too far away.

“If you promise to visit me, I might pay for a few of your drinks ;-P” Send by Idiot Brother

Jini’s second smile is already a lot stronger.

To Jini’s shock, she does not find a small and cozy lesbian bar with a couple of hot, single girls. The place is fucking huge, probably the biggest in all of Korea. There is a constant influx of women, usually in pairs and groups, standing together, talking, drinking, partying. The noisiness, paired with the all black and rough looking interior makes Jini quickly order and down her first cocktail. Something, something tequila. When she watches couple after couple make out all around her, she grabs her second one. Something, something vodka.

“Hey, do I know you?” the bartender asks her, voice firm and concerned.

“Nah, it’s my first time here,” Jini responds and shakes her head. A terrible idea. She can feel the alcohol flooding her head and already doing its thing. Soon, she’ll lose control—and gradually forget about the Haewon-shaped hole in her heart.

“Oh, I didn’t mean from here.” The bartender leans forward, towards Jini. She stares at the former idol, clearly unsure about something. “Maybe from the news or something?”

“Not possible, I’m not—famous.

“C-can I get another one? A Daiquiri?”

“Sure, gimme a second.” The bartender walks to the other end of the bar.

Jini’s heart starts to race. For a second, she was famous. An idol of JYP Entertainment, of course that is enough for people to recognize her. Leaving the group does not evaporate her fame. Clearly the bartender must have seen some posters or news about her. How could she forget about something like that? What’s going to happen now? Can she really go unrecognized through this night?

Suddenly, someone grabs her arm. Jini would shriek, but the liquor is already slowing her reaction time down.

“You shouldn’t be here,” a serious voice from behind her says. Jini turns towards the woman, but a mask covers her face. The uncovered eyes however look very familiar.

“D-do I know you?” Jini asks and hopes that the bartender returns. She does not. Crap.

“There is a different area for people like us. Quick, before someone recognizes you!”

Jini’s arm is in the firm grasp of this stranger who drags her through the bar without a care for the other partying woman. Jini tries to apologize, but the liquor already weighs her tongue down and so she is quietly staggering behind her kidnapper. An inconspicuous door later and the two are in a lot quieter area with multiple security people scanning them.

“It’s safer here, trust me,” the woman says and removes her mask. Jini needs a second and a good shake of her head to realize who just pulled her out of the bar into—another bar.

“A-aren’t you… Kang Seulgi? The Seulgi!?”

“Sorry for not introducing myself.” Seulgi scratches her head and then combs her slightly sweaty hair back. “But it was necessary. You can’t run around like this when you’re literally—”

“Huh, is this dress too revealing?” Jini interrupts, her voice drowsy, a bit unhinged. She tries to pull down the hem of her dress before Seulgi grabs her shoulders and shakes her entire body.

“Girl, you are the top news story of today! Everyone knows you, everyone who gives a tiny fuck about our genre thinks about you. This was the worst day to just show up at the biggest lesbian bar in all of Seoul. If anyone saw you—did anyone see you?”

Jini tries to think real hard, a finger pressed to her lips, forehead in wrinkles. She does not notice how she sways from one foot to the other, dangerously close to just slumping backwards, then forwards. Seulgi gently puts a hand to her back and guides her towards a corner with neat tables and cute chairs.

“Th-Thank you,” Jini whispers and tries to keep eye contact with the older idol. Her beauty and the fact that she is right there, a genuinely concerned look on her bear-like features has a bigger effect on Jini than any of the first drinks she’s had. “Sorry, I’m a bit… tipsy. B-but maybe, the bartender. She might have recognized me, maybe.”

Seulgi sighs in relief. “Okay, if it’s just one of them there is no need to be concerned. If you believe it or not, it’s not the first time a gay idol icon has just walked into a regular bar—it’s a miracle that they haven’t been in the news before.”

“S-so you’re saying that there are more idols l-like us? Wait, are you into g-girls too, Seulgi?!”

Seulgi raises an eyebrow and leans back on her chair. A black, leather jacket, at least a size too big, hangs down her shoulders. Beneath it is a loose crop top that exposes her insanely attractive midriff. To finish it off, her tight black pants are pulled high above her waist and hint at, almost teasing a navel. Seulgi is stunning, definitely made for the girls, as they say. “Don’t tell me that this is a surprise to you? What’s next? Exy or Eunseo suddenly like men?”

Jini’s eyes open wide. Before she becomes incoherent however, she falls back down to earth, her face buried in her hands. Of course there are more lesbian and gay idols, hell, she has been in a relationship with one of them. This reminder of Haewon has set things in motion. Melancholy spreads in Jini’s mind and it is only a soft hand on her head that distracts her.

“Hey, sorry about that.” Seulgi smiles softly. “I remember being a baby gay too, visiting this bar for the first time and being surprised at how many girls are like me. I promise, the longer you stay here, the more often you come here, the easier it will be to accept and understand things.”

Jini lazily looks around. She notices idols and other famous people, namely actresses and athletes sitting everywhere in this cozy bar. The music is a lot quieter, so the screams and dancing from next door are clearly audible. If she is honest, none of the people she recognizes truly shocks her. They were all already ‘probably not straight’ in her head, in her reality.

“It’s not even about that,” Jini suddenly begins to explain. “Like, I of course kinda knew you were into women, that’s why me and many others admired you. You showed us that it’s possible, even if we can’t be fully open about it. No, it’s because you all remind me of… her, and it hurts like hell.”

Seulgi’s orbs widen a bit and she starts to caress Jini’s hand. “Do you want to tell me what happened? Or should I get us some drinks and we just get black out drunk and forget everything, all our worries?”

“How about both?” Jini asks with a weak smile and Seulgi reciprocates it. She quickly skips over to the bar where the bartender is swift at preparing two colorful cocktails. Jini has no idea what it is she is sipping, but it tastes good and does the job. No reason for her to care.

“So, feel free to tell me,” Seulgi says and takes a huge first swing from her drink. “As much as you want, as much as you need.”

“It’s all just shit. A whole lot of shit.” Another sip. The drink is growing on Jini, or maybe it’s the fact that she is suddenly scared to talk about it. If only Seulgi, the older one, the clearly more experienced girl would make the first step.

“Losing your career?” Seulgi suddenly asks, somewhat mindlessly, and Jini feels her heart drop, ache, break while she somehow cracks a smile from somewhere.

“That and the way it happened. But I can’t go back. It hurts so much.”

“Oh, that sounds like I can relate,” Seulgi says, then scoffs as her hand reaches over the table to pull Jini’s cocktail glass down. “Slow down, babe, or you’ll drown in it.”

Jini blushes, almost drops her drink and spits out the rest. That word, the nice b-word, shouldn’t roll off of her tongue so easily. Seulgi is so nonchalant and sexy about it, seeming to not mind flattering the young girl while also clearly enjoying it. To make matters better, she puts her hand atop Jini’s and starts her own story with a smile.

“I had this thought of quitting multiple times. Everytime we fight, she makes me feel like I’m not good enough—only her stress reliever. It’s like she just sees me as a sex toy. Hell, I don’t mind if the entire world just sees me as a body—but from her, I want more. Worst of all, she knows it and still flip-flops. I wish I could just stop loving her or find the courage to quit, but I simply… can’t.”

“Who,” Jini gulps. “Who are you talking about?”

Seulgi shakes her head and locks eyes with Jini. The sudden seriousness and fierceness overwhelms the younger girl. It’s like Seulgi looks right through her, as if her head is made out of glass and every memory of Haewon is replaying like a 4k movie. The truth is sucked right out of Jini as the thought about her ex-girlfriend loving her intimately starts to hurt like daggers in her soul.

“You have a girlfriend too, huh? Gorgeous, hot, your whole obsession—and very toxic at the same time.”

“I-I… I had. We broke up. I ran away. I couldn’t stand what she said to me. But I still love her, I want her more than ever.”

Jini drops her head to the table, hand firmly around the glass. She tries to squeeze it, crush it, like it’s that last remnant of yearning for Haewon inside her heart. But the glass slips and she spills the rest of the ice cold drink over her dress. A frustrated gasp from her.

“Oh God, you can’t be serious…”

“Looks like he is serious,” Seulgi jokes with clenched teeth as she gets up and kneels next to Jini. With some paper towels, she tries to dry off Jini’s dress as best as she can, but the stain looks like it will stay for the rest of the night.

“Don’t sweat it,” Jini says, flustered again. “I think after this night, it’s not going to be the only stain. And also, I really do not care if I smell of alcohol after tonight.”

“So you really do plan on getting drunk.”

“So drunk that I’ll forget about both of our toxic relationships,” Jini responds with a smile. Before she can raise her hand to order another drink, Seulgi dashes away and returns almost instantly with two red cocktails.

“These are super sweet, with vodka. I bet you’ll love the taste and suddenly—bliss will hit you like a train.” Seulgi starts to drink first as if she was talking to herself. Thus ends the heavy chatter and light fun begins. Both girls crack jokes left and right and fill the bar with louder and louder noises. Laughter, laughter everywhere until they are kindly asked to move ‘upstairs’. Jini has no idea what’s ‘upstairs’, but she simply follows Seulgi who helps her up a hidden staircase behind the bars. The older girl is giggling like crazy, while Jini is confused about all the secrets in this mysterious bar.

“Where are we even… going,” Jini mumbles, complains, then laughs again as her head gets dizzy from the short exercise.

“Just some private room for private things,” Seulgi lewdly giggles and presses herself against Jini’s back as the door to a simple hostel room opens. Simple in design and layout, simple in lighting as there is only the faint moonlight illuminating the interior. Jini’s unfocused, unbothered eyes fall onto a bed and suddenly, she falls onto the bed as well. Seulgi must have guided her through the room, the door closed for privacy, and now they are entangled on the bed.

“Private things?” Jini asks sheepishly and looks back at Seulgi. The way the full moon reflects off of her pale skin and those wonderful, dreamy, drunk eyes suddenly erases the stinging pain deeply stuck in her heart. Jini never believed in miracles, but she just found hope, peace and love in her hopeless state of mind.

“Oh, you know, like talking about more serious matters,” Seulgi ponders, her tone drastically sarcastic as she drags a finger from Jini’s thigh over her curves up to her chin. “Or not talking at all~”

“B-but I think it’s very important to-to talk, before, uhm.” Jini tries her best. She fights against her drunkness, her dazzled mind and relaxed body. Although they all urge her to go on and just kiss the girl spooning her, holding her waist and her chin, Jini does not want to rush it. She stops before her lips meet Seulgi’s and her glassy eyes tell the older woman that the uncertainty is real. It can even trump the enhanced state of drunkenness they are both in.

“Then tell me, oh pretty girl, what important things do you want to talk about? I’ll try my best, but I’m really wasted, like I won’t comprehend your question properly, probably, prolally.”

Jini pouts and holds onto that smooth arm that secures her body to Seulgi’s. She can feel the amazing shape Seulgi is in. Trained, strong even, a nice bust and incredible hips. No, they are all urging her to just lose it. Jini wants to lose to the booze and the smell of Seulgi’s lips and very faint, but mind-melting perfume—but for now, she resists.

“I—I don’t want to stop! I want to sing and dance and be an idol and—shit, this won’t stop me. But I’m scared, because I’m gay. I’m gay and they are not. Sorry they can’t relate—but I know they won’t even tolerate it. I-I can’t even have an open, truthful job interview because of it!”

Jini’s ramble is stopped by Seulgi releasing a deep, somewhat unhinged sigh. It’s as if she couldn’t hide her frustration any longer. At first, Jini thinks she screwed up and just lost a night of (most likely) great sex. However, Seulgi, after a short stint of eye contact with the ceiling, locks eyes with Jini again. This time, she looks fierce, more determined than Jini has ever seen before.

“I know you, I can relate. I felt very similar. But all these ‘can’t’ and ‘won’t’ will never get you anywhere. It might not look like it, but there are cool people out there. They don’t care about who you like. They can manage your career around that, give you the necessary freedoms and can even hire good producers fairly often. There is a way around all the shit, believe me.”

“I want to believe,” Jini mewls and slams her fist into the bed and it creaks. “But for that, such a person not only had to exist but also have enough money to run a company or something; and fuck, it’s like only assholes run the biggest businesses.”

Seulgi rolls her eyes and laughs. “If only there was an experienced idol nearby that could help you to find such a person. But what do I know? I’m just a drunk lesbian talking to some rookie who’s like eight years younger than me.”

“Ten, actually,” Jini responds with a pout, but she quickly laughs when Seulgi’s drunk brain actually gets a small, shocked expression to form on that gorgeous, moonlit face. “Ten years that I don’t mind.”

“It’s still quite a lot, damn.” Seulgi bites her lip. Suddenly, Jini feels like she is even closer with the Red Velvet member. Maybe it’s because they are facing each other now, quick breaths touching the other, hands on the other's body. Maybe it’s because Seulgi reaches for Jini’d chin again and tilts her towards her lips in a way that is nonchalant and deadly. The temptation is too great.

“You know you’re an icon for younger idols—in fact many girls in and out of the closet? They wouldn’t mind this age gap; neither do I.”

“Oh yeah?” Seulgi asks, more sure of herself now as she presses her lips onto Jini’s and momentarily shuts the other girl down. For a few seconds after the disconnect, Jini is still mentally paralyzed and doesn’t realize that her hands are tugging at Seulgi’s clothes in an attempt to get rid of them. “I’ve heard they like me, but to be this crazy for someone ten years older? I think that’s just you—and all that booze is helping a lot.”

“C-can we still fuck?” Jini bluntly asks in a daze.

“Hm, sure. Let me show you something~”

Seulgi drops her jacket. It glides off her arms and Jini’s gaze follows it before Seulgi directs it back at her. The older girl is on top, her arms next to Jini’s head as she leans down for another kiss. This time, it’s passionate, a rapid attack of lips on lips and tongue on tongue. A bit too fast, a bit too violent, but actually just right for Jini. She wouldn’t want it any other way. This is so unlike Haewon, so surreal in fact that it’s more comparable to a wet dream than any masturbation or pornography.

Seulgi is absurd, the way she controls the kiss and presses her body on top of Jini’s. Instinctively, the younger girl tries to wrap her arms and legs around the one attacking her mouth, but Seulgi has different plans. She gently pushes Jini’s limbs away and makes sure she can lay in between her legs. At first Jini pouts, but then she feels what Seulgi wants to show her.

It’s akin to a dance. Seulgi’s hands roam from the top of Jini’s brown dress, along her arms and sides over her hips to the hem. In the meantime, the lips disconnect and draw a line of kisses down the dress, making sure to pay attention to all the stains of vodka, gin and rum. Jini knows where those lips will end up and the thought alone is sending her into a frenzy.

“How is this?” Seulgi asks, her cheek resting on Jini’s abdomen, her fingers playing with the hem of that dress, already carefully pushing it up her thighs.

“F-fantastic, oh God,” Jini groans and takes a deep breath when she looks down her body into Seulgi’s dazed eyes. Although Jini knows it’s just a reflection of moon light, nothing too special, it genuinely looks like Seulgi’s eyes are glowing on their own. A soft, cold light that sends a shiver down Jini’s spine—a shiver that is suddenly across her entire body when Seulgi’s mouth disappears behind that pulled up dress. “Y-yes, right there!”

A tongue on her thong, expertly finding the aroused nub below. Seulgi is clearly no stranger to this, which is emphasized by her not stopping. Her actions are nonstop. A twirl here, a strong lick there. Fluid motions from start to finish and Jini is tweaking, wetting her already arousal-stained thong with more of her fresh juice to the point she can’t keep eye contact anymore.

“Look at me, babe,” Seulgi commands softly, and Jini stands at attention. Somehow she keeps her upper body upright on her arms, but it’s all unstable, trembling. “I want you to go all out. Don’t hold back. Wrap your thighs around my head, pull my hair if you need you. I want you to cum on and on and on.”

“S-Seulgi, I—I’m not shaven, I—”

“Like I care.”

Too late and all over. Seulgi has a finger on the weakest spot, pulling aside that thin garment and leaving Jini exposed. Seulgi does not wait. Her tongue caresses the aching core and Jini presses it onto her face with a shriek. She is a moaning mess and she wants to be even louder. Seulgi knows and so she fiddles her clit, licks that cunt, goes all out until Jini is screaming profanities.

“Fuck, yes, lick me, fuck! Seulgi, eat my pussy, yes!”

A suck on her clit and Jini wraps her legs around Seulgi’s head. The older girl is delighted that her prophecy became true and continues. It’s like she has never done anything else in her life. Her girlfriend must truly be a lucky bitch, Jini thinks and tries to curse at this unknown person—but all her curses are those of pleasure. Pleasure, just pleasure. No more Haewon, no more JYP, just Seulgi eating her out until she is silly.

“I’m so close, you’re getting me close, I can’t—”

Jini pulls at Seulgi’s messy hair in an attempt to hold out a little bit longer. However, it’s all for nought. Not a single second longer. Jini explodes and floods Seulgi’s tastebuds with her runny nectar. Her head falls backwards into a pillow.

“Oh, we are not yet finished,” Seulgi laughs. Her voice is horny, a little bit crazy and very much drunk. She grabs both Jini’s waist and her back and pulls her up. Suddenly, the young woman finds herself seated on Seulgi’s thigh at the edge of the bed. “I need to see your face more. I want to hear you cum again, baby.”

“Ah, if-if you call me that, I—” Jini blushes. She can barely catch her breath with her face covered in her hands. Seulgi, however, continues. It’s for the best. It’s for Jini’s pleasure. She gets rocked back and forth on Seulgi’s thigh, her dripping core stimulated once more.

“Now I want to call you it more,” Seulgi whispers, one hand on Jini’s hips, the other trying to cup the idol’s face. “My baby. Cum on me. Forget about everything and just love me hard for tonight. I want you loud, cum so fucking loud that the neighbours start to complain.”

“I might, I might,” Jini moans and throws an arm around Seulgi’s shoulder. The two share an intimate gaze before Seulgi’s lips crash down on Jini’s chin. Another exposed weak spot that sends Jini spiraling into an abyss of more and more pleasure. She is falling, but not from Seulgi’s thigh. The older girl makes sure of that.

Soon Jini is riding on her own, wetting those black jeans. She finds it a bit sad that Seulgi gives her everything but she can’t seem to give her pleasure back. In an attempt to change this, Jini tries to sneak a hand into the top of Seulgi’s jeans after opening the button. At first successful, then futile. It urges Seulgi on more. She plants her fingers on Jini’s clit and rubs her in circles.

“Oh, fuck, Seul-gi!”

The tempo is slow but perfect. The timing is immaculate and Jini becomes a fountain. She squirts out her second orgasm all over Seulgi’s crotch, drenches her clothes and the edge of the bed in her girl cum, all while her voice finds new levels of volume. The bed shakes, the ceiling shakes, Jini’s world shakes as her orgasm washes everything away. Before the concoction of alcohol and orgasmic pleasure can push her into a blissful slumber, Seulgi kisses her with a giggle.

“After you wake up, you better get rid of my pants before using your fingers, babe~”

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you. You must be Miss Choi? Miss Kang told me a lot about you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, but please, just call me Jini. I’ve always been called by my stage name.”

“I’d love to do that. How about we sit down and you just tell me a little bit about yourself? I know that this organization has, rightfully so, put a lot of trust into your abilities. I personally value the recommendation of Miss Kang a lot, but I’d like you to tell me more, if you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all. I think that my personal manager should know what they are getting into. I wouldn’t want to surprise you with something.”

“Wwe are on the same page then. Excellent.”

“It might sound a bit odd, but I think I should start off by saying that I, uhm, like girls and have a… very vibrant life when it comes to relationships and… yeah.”

“Oh, I can’t say this surprises me.”

“Uhm, what?”

“Well, I know Miss Kang has certain tendencies when it comes to this. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind and I don’t care. As long as I know everything I need to know to manage around certain things, you are free to do whatever you like.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, sure. It’s my job as your manager to support and protect you.”

“You have no idea how much this means to me!”

You scratch the back of your head. The beautifully dressed girl in front of you smiles from one ear to the other, lyrics sheet in one hand, in the other the freshly signed contract. You don’t know why, but you surely seemed to have made her smile. So smile back.

“You’re welcome, I guess?”

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