#she's completely crazy and it's great actually | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pythonmoth · 4 months ago

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cw: post-traumatic stress disorder. paranoia. anxiety. panic. overthinking. reader is traumatized and unreliable. explicit suicidal thoughts. mentioned depersonalization. the voices. jealous simon. kissing the homies pt2. author was angry while writing.

× framed traitor f!reader x lt ghost. poly tf141.

text is heavily styled to show reader's panic. if it's difficult to read, I can share the normal version tomorrow. ♡

Part 8

Slow.

That's the only way you can describe how the progress has been for you.

Ever since you fell asleep with Simon on a call, you've been feeling so calm. It's like all the problems disappeared. Your therapist is confused, but glad to see you all happy and content, like never before. Your appetite has come back, your nails have been growing nicely. You give yourself a chance to try on comfortable shoes, a little hesitant to make your toenails hurt, but you can actually walk with them now. They're still a little sensitive, but you're running your errands on your own now. No need to be dependant anymore.

To feel like yourself again has given you so much comfort that you find yourself texting the team properly. Even Gaz has been taking your calls when he's available, which has been great for your mental health, and your heart. Price has been mostly quiet, but you're not surprised, as he's always busy; he mostly just shares updates on missions, like Simon. Johnny has been incredibly funny on the phone, sharing silly things and your mutual hatred towards a new movie has been helping you bond again.

Simon, however...

"Hey, I'm serious! Don't you dare using that fucking tea bag!" Simon grunts from the phone.

You turn to him, laughing as you see him frowning. Simon's unmasked face covers your phone screen, his distaste for the cheap tea bags completely clear. His eyebrows are furrowed together, his mouth curled in a little disgusted snarl. You can only grin, mocking him, lazily patting your hands dry on your pants.

"I've no energy to prepare anything else!" you sigh, dropping the tea bag on the mug, getting closer to the phone to turn the volume up.

Your phone is fighting for it's life resting against a little cookie jar on the isle, your hands still a little damp from doing the dishes.

"Well, if you didn't try to do everything at once, you would" Simon voice retorts. His forehead is covering nearly half of your screen, making it hard to take him seriously.

"I can perfectly do multiple things at the same time".

"The stove".

You turn around to see the stove still on. With a grimace, you turn it off, ignoring his little chuckle as you reach out for your tea and your phone, walking over to the living room. The couch is cozy and fluffy, making you sink into it as if it were a cloud. You drag a blanket over your legs as you smile at the screen, staring at Simon.

"Whatever. Now, what did you have for dinner?"

Ever since that night, this has been your new normal. He has time off, you have a videocall. Really, it's a win-win situation, and it makes you happy, so that's fine. He tells you all about everyone, he tells you about how much he misses you and how much he wants to see you. It makes you smile, genuinely so.

The therapist isn't convinced you're okay yet. She says you're still jumpy, still flinch around people, and she even said you're hyper vigilant. But there's nothing wrong with being precautious, so you don't understand how that's a bad thing. However, you can admit it's a little hard to do things with your hands. It's not that you can't use your hands, because you can, but it makes you feel as if you were in a simulation, as if you were part of a game and you're the point of view for someone else.

Perhaps you should've kept that to yourself.

That's probably why the therapist refuses to allow you to go back. She probably thinks you're crazy, when it happens to everyone. She just doesn't understand.

It's no matter, because they're coming.

Price told you a few days ago that they're finally free, and will be having a few months off unless they're strictly needed. It's been nine months since you last saw them in person, so it makes you feel excited, content!

Tomorrow. They're coming tomorrow.

The best part is that you don't even need to ask what they feel like eating. You know them well enough to know just how much they love meat, so you just have to go out and buy everything.

The air is a more than chilly now, your birthday month coming right up, so you decide to put on your favorite jacket and take your car keys. The drive to the store is calm, the music absolutely blasting your ears, though, your enthusiasm sky high with how much you've missed them these past few months. It makes you giddy, to welcome them, to see them again.

Your therapist has been helping you to identify your emotions, helping you to understand how you are genuinely feeling. And having them over... it makes you a little anxious. Only because you haven't gotten any visitors outside your family and friends, really. Of course you want them there, it's just gonna be new.

In just a few minutes, your car if parked and locked at least five times just to make sure, canva tote bags in hand and then you're walking in the store. You're always making sure to come at a time when there's less people, and you're glad it's keeping up the same. Headphones over your ears, music gently playing on then, you move with practiced ease.

Meat. Vegetables. Pasta.

Meat. Fruit. Meat.

And meat.

They would die if you gave them anything but meat, truly.

You smile to yourself as you carry your things back to your car, your headphones now curled around your neck so you can pay attention to your surroundings, your eyes slyly looking around, turning smoothly whenever you feel someone is looking at you from your back. Your eyes wide open, you fill your car with the groceries, quickly closing it once you're done.

Just for precaution, you look around again before looking inside your car, and as soon as you open the door, you're inside and lo ck in g the car.

Just precaution.

It's dangerous out the re.

You're home the rest of the day, preparing the meals you'll be giving them tomorrow morning. Price did say they'll be arriving at 2pm, so you make sure everything is perfect before going to bed.

That night, you sleep with Simon's breathing next to your ear again, your heart pounding in your chest. The an xie ty keeps on growing, but you're sure it's just giddiness. Really, you're just too excited you can't wait.

The next morning, you almost don't want to get up. The woodpeckers are going crazy with the tree just outside your window, the sunlight hitting your face perfectly from between the curtains and it feels peaceful. Your bed is empty, except for your pillows —and a big plushie of a dragon Johnny got for you a few years ago—, and it's so, so warm you just don't want to get up.

With a sigh, you stand up and quickly get ready to welcome the day, and your friends. You're thankful you made sure everything was ready the day before, because just as you're done blow drying your hair, there's a firm knock on your door.

Surprised, you turn to look at the clock. You didn't even realize you spent so long just staring at yourself in silence. You lost so many hours, when you could've been doing something else!

"Coming!" you yell from your room, jumping down the stairs to the kitchen and turning the stove on.

When everything is already getting heated up, you stand in front of the door, your body suddenly frozen. You're sweating, your heart slowing and then racing in your chest as if it couldn't choose what to do. Your throat is closing up.

You can't move.

Don't open the door.

Run.

Why?

What is happening?

Run.

Another knock makes you snap out of it, but your hands are still shaky as you finally open the door. Your shoulders relax as your eyes fall on Gaz, strong arms instantly wrapping around your middle as Price, right behind him, presses the door against the wall so they can all get in.

Gaz lifts you just enough to make room for the rest.

"Hey, sweetheart. Looking good" Gaz says, beaming, pressing a soft kiss to your cheekbones before letting go of you.

However, you're instantly shutting off again. You don't understand why your legs feel like jelly, why your healed fingernails are throbbing. You don't understand at all why the sudden urge to run, far, far away.

Leave.

Price grins down at you, patting your head and gently gripping your shoulder before side stepping you. "Thank you for having us, kid".

When you look up at Johnny, he's grinning down at you, but you can see the way he quickly catches on your reaction, the way your forehead is covered in sweat, and the way your lips are pursed.

Danger.

"It's good to see you" Johnny says gently, nodding down at you and moving past you very carefully, trying not to touch you.

It feels odd. It feels incredibly off. And there's something weird in the air.

Your stomach is twisting and churning. It's confusing. It's weird. Sulfur? Acid?

Fully focused on trying to understand what happening to you, you're suddenly aware that the burning smell you can perceive is coming from your deep in your stomach.

Fear? Pain? Panic?

Your throat is so closed up you can barely breathe. The fear is making your sight turn a little blurry, your breathing shaky.

Bile. You want to throw up.

When you look up at Simon, your hands clench on your sides, swallowing thickly. It feels so, so wrong to look at him like this, especially when you two are supposed to be okay again, but for some reason, you can't handle looking at him. It's making you feel... off. Odd.

You give him a tight smile and a nod, the giddiness turning ice cold in your stomach.

You bring your hand to your mouth, nibbling on your fingernails.

As soon as they're all inside, door closed behind them, Simon takes his mask off, his eyes fixed on you, frowning.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm okay. Yeah, come on" you reply, maybe a little too quickly, but you don't give him, or any of them, a moment to think about it as you move to the kitchen.

You check on everything by the stove as Johnny fills glasses with wine. It's too early for wine, but with your teeth destroying the growing fingernail on your thumb... you don't really care right now.

"It smells amazing" Price comments, inhaling deeply. He's sitting at the head of the table, looking ready to sink his teeth in anything. If he's oblivious to the tension in your shoulders, or if he's choosing to ignore it, you can't tell. "This is what having a wife at home feels like. All we're missing is a little one".

That manages to make you smile slightly, your shaky hands relaxing at the friendly tone. You reach out to mix the pots, turning to look at him.

"The only little one any of you will be seeing from me is my knee on your balls. Now, be useful and set the table" you grunt. Price raises his hands in surrender and pats Simon's shoulder so they can do as you asked.

It's not the first time they've come, anyway, so they don't have to ask you where you keep things. Johnny stays by the table, claiming he already poured the wine, but he ends up helping Simon and Price with the plates anyway.

Gaz leaves the table to stand right next to you, suddenly smacking the hand on your mouth firmly.

"Stop that shit" he whispers angrily. He's quiet, even gentle with it, so rest don't hear.

"Sorry. I'm... feeling weird" you mumble, forcing yourself to stop.

"Go sit. I've got this" he hums, nudging you with his shoulder until you let go.

You make sure to sit by the isle, just because that ridiculous anxious feeling isn't getting any smaller. If anything, you can jump and cover yourself with the isle, so this place is fine.

As Gaz serves for everyone and they start sitting down again, you nearly jump off the chair when you realize Simon's sitting next to you, instead of where he was sitting on the opposite side of the table.

"Hey, that's my chair. Go sit over there".

You look up to see Simon glare at Gaz, the two of them staring each other down, a silent conversation between the two of them. In the end, Simon simply let's go of the chair and sits away from you again. It helps you relax, but you keep quiet, reaching out to grab your glass of wine.

"Really, though. If you had a kid running around..." Price starts again, his mouth filled with food.

"Back off" Johnny complains, nudging Price still. Price rolls his eyes, waving a dismissive hand. "What a prick".

Simon, however, can't look away from you, paying attention to all of your movements, the way you lean on Gaz, the way you barely seem to be listening.

"If she's marrying anyone here, that's me" Gaz says, suddenly wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Y'all stand no chance".

It makes you relax, but only a moment, feeling suffocated by their eyes on you, especially with the way Simon's gripping his fork. You hit Gaz on the ribs with your elbow, only to make him let go. He grins, his eyes gentle. You know he doesn't mean it like that, but it's making you uncomfortable again.

"Oi, watch your—" Simon starts, his eye twitching.

"Not playing house by choice, I've been forced to. I'm pretty sure we don't wanna talk about it, so eat up and shut the fuck up" you snap, your tone just shy from screaming at them.

That makes Price's teasing smile die, nodding solemnly, and finally shutting up. You refuse to look at the way Simon and Johnny's faces drop, both of them staring at their plates, suddenly feeling no appetite.

It's an awkward meal, everybody afraid to make a single noise. You can hear the way Simon's munching on the vegetables, you can hear Price's breathing slowing down just the way he does when he's on a mission, and Johnny... he's only mixing his food together, stabbing an innocent carrot.

After a while, when nobody's chewing and nobody even dares breathing, Gaz breaks the silence.

"So..."

The rest turn to him.

Gaz grins.

A movie.

The sun is still high up, but Garrick suggested to watch a movie, and you said yes. In a heartbeat. Really, Simon shouldn't complain if he gets to see you for a little longer. Whatever that means, anyway, because you don't want him near you at all. Fuck, you didn't even let him sit next to you.

All these months, he thought he'd been helping you, he thought therapy was going well, because during the constant videocalls you've been cheerful, your old self. You smiled at him, you laughed. He had made you laugh at his fucked up jokes again.

But this?

Johnny went with Price to buy crisps, soda, more drinks, and sour candies for you. Those two bastards really couldn't handle a single comment and bolted immediately. Pair of cowards. Simon wasn't stupid, he had seen the way Johnny nearly burst into tears, the way Price's jaw clenched, felt his own heart break inside his chest, but he has to sit here and take it. Because he wasn't a coward.

And this?

You're leaning on Garrick. Heavily.

Simon eyes the way Garrick interlocks your hands together, checking on your fingernails. His eye twitches as he hears you talk, both of you fully focused on each other, as if he wasn't there. It's not that that's a new concept for him, he often only talked so much.

But this?

His heart pounds in his chest when Garrick grips your jaw with a hand, kissing your cheek loudly after you pout at him.

It makes you smile.

That's it, he thinks. I'm getting up and I'm beating him up. Who the fuck does he think he is? Stealing my girlfriend right in front of me.

In the end, he only shifts, his face betraying nothing, looking down at his beer, hoping the other cowards arrive soon so he doesn't have to see the way he keeps losing you.

Losing you, all over again. Over a fucked up mistake, for following an order. And the worst part is that he genuinely gets it. Garrick is the only one who didn't hurt you, of course you're okay with his touch and not the rest.

Fucking hell. He wants to stab himself in the gut to end his misery.

But no.

He did that.

There's no changing it.

Simon looks up at the two of you.

His anger dissipates when he hears your soft laugh, Garrick's hand on the back of your neck, keeping you steady as he pokes your side, clearly sharing a silly moment. Simon grimaces and turns away again, sipping his beer.

It takes Price and Johnny half an hour to come back, and Simon couldn't be happier to see them.

With the snacks covering the coffee table and their laps, Simon genuinely tries to ignore the fact that you're still pressed against Garrick's side, happily munching on your sour candy. Johnny's sitting on the floor right between his legs, occasionally feeding him orange gummy bears or crisps. Price, between Garrick and himself, is staring at the movie, seemingly content with sipping on his beer, and stealing some of Simon's gummy bears.

Every time he hears your low laugh, Garrick's hands on you, Simon wants to die. He grips Johnny's shoulder, his nails digging slightly into his skin, trying his best to pay attention to the movie, but he isn't able to understand what it is about. He doesn't know what's happened in front of him for the past hour. He knows how many times Garrick's lips were pressed to your cheek. He knows how many times you laughed with Garrick. He knows how many times you've shifted, closer and closer to Garrick.

He can't do anything but dwell on his own regret, on his anger. His pain.

He doesn't blame you, he doesn't blame Garrick. Hell, he doesn't even blame Price, or Johnny, or anybody else. Just himself.

He could've done this so much better, but there's not much he can do. He needs to be alone with you so he can talk properly, apologize again, but every time he looks at you, even without the mask, you flinch. It doesn't matter how hard you try to hide it, he can see it.

Johnny gets up, snapping him out of his thoughts. He sees him take the empty plate, walking towards the kitchen.

Not even a minute later, Johnny's cursing and there's a shattering sound echoing on the house. Simon stands up, moving to go check on Johnny, but he freezes when you stand up abruptly, your face in complete shock as you walk away, your arm bumping onto the walls as you rush away.

He's torn for a whole second too long, thinking if he should follow you or check on Johnny first, and that's enough for Garrick to beat him to it. Simon can only stare at Garrick follows after you, sprinting.

After a moment of hesitation, he walks over to Johnny. Simon finds him picking up the shattered plate, grimacing when he sees someone walking in.

"Ah, it's you. I tripped" Johnny grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You hurt yourself".

"Just a tiny cut, 's nothing. Where did she go?" Johnny questions, bringing his thumb to his mouth, sucking a little on the blood.

"I don't know. Practically bolted when you dropped the plate".

Johnny stares at him, blinking. "And what are you doing here? I must've scared her" he sighs, standing up. "Where to?"

"Garrick already went after her".

"So?"

"They're getting along. A lot".

Johnny blinks again.

Smack.

"What the fuck? What was that for now?" Simon growls out, rubbing his head. Johnny shakes his head, still expecting an answer. Simon sighs. "Over there. Come on".

Simon guides Johnny, their feet barely making any noise, used to being quiet and, also, because they don't want to spook you any longer. He finally spots you, the door of the guest bedroom ajar.

He freezes.

Johnny's hand grips his arm, his whispered curse falling on deaf ears.

Simon stands there in complete silence, his blood, and stomach, and his heart and his brain falling to his feet as he can only stare.

Your cheeks are wet with tears but it's barely visible because Garrick's hands are covering them, his lips on yours.

It looks peaceful.

And Simon wants to die all over again.

Johnny quietly shuffles away, but Simon can't look away. Not now.

Garrick pulls away and kisses your cheek, then your forehead, then grips your nose, making you huff, a small smile on your lips. He's grinning, rolling his eyes, as if that kiss didn't just happen.

Simon isn't breathing. He's not even sure he's here anymore. Perhaps he did die, and this is his personal hell.

Must be.

chingue a su madre emilia pérez y todos los involucrados. I was pissed writing this and I wanted chaos.

-ˋˏ✄——————————————————

Masterlist | Part 9

Buy me a coffee

anyway, so there's that ♡ thank you so much for reading!!!

taglist: @euphoricn @lilg101010 @enfppuff @carolchaotic @silas-fanfic-favs @nina-from-317 @an-ever-angry-bi @kittygonap @dorothy-rainbird-deactivated202 @adventurerabby @defronix @sheepispink @iambuttwodaysold @blackhawkfanatic @malevolentghoul @thriving-n-jiving @literallegendicon @echo9821 @angel-bugz @ssc7514 @clickbait-official @hades--baby @blackhawkfanatic @sirbonesly @saki---chan @skeletonsucker @nnsissys @kukavittu @tessakate @honestlymassivetrash @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @rayrayyio @diseasedclitoris @alex1011sdzfgh @thebumbqueen

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binmeister · 13 days ago

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Quick question how would huntr/x and the saja boy react towards a fem muscle mommy bodyguard reader as like the saja boys bodyguard or something 👀✨

honestly great question, i think it kinda depends on how fem!bodyguard is as a person

dropping some small loose HCs and thoughts on this - no content warning aside from be ware of completely unformatted thoughts below

if fem!bodyguard is a big softie, i think the girls love you and really suck up to you whenever you're at a shared event and checking in on them to make sure they're okay

probably concerned for your well being because it doesnt seem like you're aware of what the saja boys are but if you are aware of them they're like - wait but you're still working for them? and it's a whole little discussion on how you dont particularly care and want to make sure they still feel protected because imo human fans are scarier than demons could ever be

theres a few times that zoey crashes after an energy high and is just knocked out so the girls have flagged you down to ask if you could help them carry her to their car or to help move her to somewhere comfortable and you do so with the utmost care that when zoey learns about it from the girls she keeps staring at you with big adoring eyes like 'wow..!'

i feel like jinu ends up relying on you a lot more than he realises, the presence of a woman + allowing for emotional vulnerability, you'd unintentionally started to actually mother the saja boys during your time working for them and he knows he can trust you with their safety

highkey i am a believer that mystery always seeks you out so you can run your fingers through his hair, like he just likes to plop his head on your muscular thighs and loves the contrast with how your fingers gently comb through his hair

abby adores you as his gym buddy - he might actually be too excitable over it to the point you have to tell him to take a rest day because it's not healthy to go all the time and he argues and complains about it til your voice gets stern and he tenses up like oh.. oh you're like. serious serious.

it's a pretty common thing to witness in the boys' abode where you're picking baby up and scolding him while keeping him in air jail against his will but he's so just dangling there until you finally put him down after he agrees correct his mistake and then you've placed him back down on his feet and straightened out his clothes with a small apology about being rude

......i feel like a vast majority of people can agree that romance is really into it right- like i'm not crazy here- but he is into it, he likes to admire your figure without you knowing and maybe there's a chance that you've opened up to him about your insecurities at being so big and then he's complimenting you more frequently to make sure you understand he appreciates and sees your beauty when you're occasionally feeling a little out of it

a small thought i have is that when you get stern with the guys about them behaving inappropriately as idols a couple of them start to question their preferences because it's extremely attractive to them and then they're avoiding your gaze for the next week or so bc if they stare at you for too long they get flustered

#kpop demon hunters x reader #saja boys x reader #kpdh x reader #huntrix x reader #bodyguard!reader

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eeriesilkworm · 2 months ago

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The painting and Rink-O-Mania situation from Mike’s perspective is actually crazy

I mean think about it:

You just realised you don’t like girls and that you have feelings for your best friend the day he leaves for California. (Worst timing ever??)

You unexpectedly get back together with your girlfriend on that day too, but how the hell are you supposed to tell her that kissing her was your gay awakening when she just said, “I love you” to you?

So fucking awkward.

So now you’re stewing in purgatory hell, entering your freshman year of high school (which is already hard enough) and pining for your friend who never picks up the phone and won’t even call you back for eight months.

Plus, distance makes the heart grow fonder, so you’re definitely experiencing some angsty teen gay limerence. But you're holding out hope, because it seemed like he was sending you some signals last year... right?

Then you get a letter from El that Will has been painting a lot, acting weird, and that there’s probably someone he likes. Oh, and that someone might be a girl. LOL ok. FML. He’s not been calling you, so it must be someone else. Cool. Real fucking cool.

Then when you get to the airport and finally meet him, you’re so nervous you can’t even make eye contact or hug him properly. But he doesn’t even seem nervous at all. Also when the fuck did he get lowkey buff?

But he’s holding a painting! OMG yay! Maybe the painting was for you the whole time. There isn’t someone else, thank god. So, you ask about it. Like, immediately.

And he just completely rebuffs you? He brought it to the airport to pick you up and it’s not even for you? First, that was embarrassing. Second, what the fuck?

You just keep playing it cool and smile through the pain. Then El mentions a place called Rink-O-Mania. OH. Will is bringing the painting to Rink-O-Mania. He wants to give it to someone there.

Ok, time to put on your investigative goggles. Who’s going? Any of El’s friends? You glance Will’s way to see if he reacts. Will asks, “What friends?” He also wants to know who’s coming. Then, “Angela?” Will seems out of sorts. This Angela girl must make him nervous. Fuck. Since when did Will like girls anyway?

Then you get to Rink-O-Mania and there’s no Angela in sight. Will is mopey. He won’t even laugh at your jokes. He keeps rolling his eyes. He really doesn’t even want to be here. It’s like he doesn’t even care that you just got here!

This Angela chick finally shows up, but you get a little distracted by her friend. He’s kind of cute. He has nice hair. It kind of looks like… oh god he kind of looks like Will. Never mind. Get yourself together. Angela doesn’t seem to even notice Will – maybe it’s one-sided. Good.

You’re so distracted that you don’t even notice El is not comfortable with these people. Will is super concerned. What’s his problem? Jealous? Hah! Not so nice, is it?

And then oh, ok. El is being bullied. El is being bullied and has been for a while, and no one thought to tell you so now you look like a complete asshole. Great. Also, since when did Will know more about El than you? What are you now – the third wheel? Why is no one telling you anything?

And then Will has the gall to be angry at you. You who has been a SAINT. Piously waiting and pining on him. Trying to do the right thing, trying to be a good boyfriend. Trying to find the right time and the right words to tell her the truth even though it’s fucking scary. But honestly, what’s even the point? The guy you’re in love with doesn’t even like you back and thinks you're an asshole.

Plus, he complains that you only called a few times, when you tried to call a lot more. The phone was always busy. He was the one who barely called back! What is this? Some sick cosmic joke? Then your girlfriend loses her shit and schmacks Angela in the face in front of so many people… this is officially the worst day ever. Jesus Christ.

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #mike wheeler is gay #mike wheeler is in love with will byers #mike wheeler apologia #imagine how EMBARASSING it was to ask about the painting and not have it be given to you LMFAO #IN FRONT OF EVERYONE #AND WHO'S THIS ARGLE DUDE??#that day was fresh hell for him #mike wheeler POV #st4

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darkmatilda · 30 days ago

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𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which one spencer gets beaten up by an unsub, but as a result, his unfailingly attractive, sharp-tongued flatmate steps in as his personal nurse so in the end, it could always be worse.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, medical care, lecture on safety and risk-taking, no detailed descriptions or blood, reader on her period, spencer not putting a ring on that reader's finger (but he fucking should)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.3k

𝐚/𝐧: request

Spencer slowly dragged himself up the stairs, wincing in pain with every step he managed to take. A slight sense of relief wrapped around him only at the very top, when he allowed himself to freeze in place for a while and take a deep, cautious breath.

What had happened to him was fairly self-explanatory — a minor scuffle with an unsub he accidentally got involved in, a pretty solid beating, and afterward telling everyone around that he was completely fine.

Because at that moment, yes, he was fine. Or at least he felt like he was. The remnants of adrenaline still lingering in his body had a numbing, dulling effect on most of the pain. So he allowed himself to tend only to what was visible and bleeding — a split brow and went home as if nothing had happened.

His actual condition only started to register somewhere halfway back.

First and foremost, a steady pain in his ribs that became unbearable only when climbing stairs or making sudden movements. His knuckles also made themselves known with a burning sensation. There were a few scrapes there, but if he were to assess himself entirely objectively, nothing life-threatening. He’d grab some ice from the fridge, shove it under his shirt, spend the next few days wincing when bending over, and that would be it.

Spencer forced himself to stand up straight and entered the apartment. With slow movements, he unwound the scarf from his neck and took off his coat, squinting when a sharp pain hit his side as he pulled one arm free. Ice. He definitely needed ice.

As soon as he washed his hands, he headed straight to the kitchen to grab some. However, he didn’t even make it close to the fridge when he suddenly and with surprise came to a halt at the sight of a woman sitting on a chair by the kitchen island.

His temporary flatmate glanced at him briefly, registering his arrival, but remained completely unfazed. In front of her was an open laptop, next to it a plate with half-eaten food and a mug, a blanket covered her legs, and she seemed focused on what she was doing.

She glanced at him again, this time raising an eyebrow questioningly. Spencer parted his lips but said nothing, realizing he had frozen for a moment, staring at her. It was no longer just about the surprise of her presence, but more about the dilemma of what he should do next.

Should he just walk to the fridge and take out some ice without saying anything? Sure, it was his apartment, but what would he say if she asked a question? Should he tell her how he gave a great demonstration of strength, caution, and professionalism by letting himself get beaten like some limp boxing dummy?

Did she even care enough about his condition to ask?

He shook himself out of his thoughts and closed his mouth before a fly could fly in. He cleared his throat, leaning one hand against the kitchen island and trying to look casual, as if his ribs weren’t throbbing in pain. Almost immediately, however, he realized his knuckles were all scratched up, so he quickly pulled his hand back. Still, he preferred to think the whole situation through. He cleared his throat again.

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” he said. “I mean, this early.”

They usually finished work around the same time, unless his team was working on a case. Then their entire schedule would become irregular or even completely crazy.

She shrugged.

“Took some work home,” she explained, slowly shifting her gaze back to the laptop. Spencer was inwardly relieved she hadn’t noticed anything strange in his behavior. “Didn’t feel too well.”

He nodded as he listened to her. “You okay?”

There was a certain suspicion in her look—because even though they were currently living together, this kind of mutual concern was still something new. And even when it did happen, it was never expressed directly, only hidden somewhere between the lines.

But that day, he was too worn out to play around with it.

“Yeah,” she replied after a moment—not dismissively, but in a straightforward, genuine way. “Just my period.”

“I think I have a hot water bottle somewhere in the bathroom. At least I think so. Just in case you need it.”

“Already found it,” she said, patting the blanket that covered her up to the waist. Her gaze returned to him for a moment, and just as he was trying to figure out how to smoothly and inconspicuously grab a bag of ice from the fridge, her eyes suddenly narrowed in alarm, focusing on a very specific spot. “Wait, are you okay?”

Spencer’s mouth fell slightly open for a moment, unsure what had given him away—until it hit him that he literally had a butterfly bandage on his eyebrow. Instinctively, he reached up to touch it—with the same hand that had scraped knuckles, which she immediately clocked. Until now, her arms had been resting casually on the counter, but she crossed them over her chest, eyebrows lifting in a silent demand for explanation.

“I just kinda got hit,” he said quickly, hoping to downplay the whole thing before it turned into a bigger deal than it already was. And to avoid getting into the full scope of his physical state—something he preferred to take care of on his own. Her expression didn’t change at all, didn’t accept his answer, which forced him to sigh and add, “it’s…it’s normal, sometimes. I mean, unsub fights back and—”

He gestured vaguely with his hand, trying to finish the thought without saying too much. Her eyes followed the motion of his injured hand as he did, and he had to fight the urge to tuck it behind his back—opting instead to fold it in, just enough to be less visible, though it hurt a little.

“Right, but that’s why you have a gun. And why there’s more than one of you on scene—to keep that from happening. Or at least not often.”

Her voice had a sharp edge, and her expression was tense—until she fell silent for a beat, taking a calmer breath. It was clear she wasn’t trying to scold him or speak out of turn about something she hadn’t seen firsthand. After all, she worked in the same field and knew exactly how things sometimes went.

For a moment, she looked at him in silence, as if assessing the quality and precision of the bandage on his brow. She didn’t seem to find anything to complain about—which didn’t mean she was satisfied. A sigh.

“At least tell me you washed your hands? There’s…”

“Antiseptic ointment in the fridge,” he finished for her. “I know. I bought it myself.”

“Fantastic. Now go ahead and use it.”

Spencer wanted to roll his eyes at her nagging tone, but he was quickly bombarded by her even more piercing gaze, so he hopped over to the fridge. She was watching his back, he could feel it. He wanted to bend down and get the ice from the freezer too, but he was afraid it would hurt too much. He’d do it when he went to bed.

He turned back toward the kitchen island and set the ointment box down after squeezing the right amount onto his index finger. But instead of spreading it on the back of his hand like he should, he paused, meeting her fixed gaze.

“You can go back to work. You don’t have to supervise me,” he said.

“I think I do. If I didn’t tell you, you probably wouldn’t even use that ointment.”

‘I totally would’ve. Actually, I was going to.’

She didn’t look like she believed him for even a second. And that was completely okay, because he didn’t quite believe himself either. The layer of ointment on his scratched knuckles caused a burning sensation. He bit his inner cheek, trying not to wince.

He kept that unreadable expression until she looked back at her laptop screen, though he still felt like she was glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

Suddenly, their black cat jumped onto the counter and immediately padded over to him with a purr. Spencer turned his hand so the ointment wouldn’t get on the cat’s fur, stroking it with his palm. “Come to say hi, little acrobat?” he asked gently. The woman glanced at him, again, and he was aware of it.

Marie loved compliments and scratching behind her ear, so she started circling around the kitchen island, trying to get more. He closed his eyes as her tail brushed against his face.

A tickle in his nose. He felt an impending sneeze with dread but couldn’t hold it back. With the sneeze, he bent slightly, and then a sharp pain spread across his ribs.

And it was no longer a gentle bend; Spencer really doubled over, unable to hold back a loud hiss, his hand pressed tightly against his side, which did not help at all. Through his heavy breathing, a certain sound reached him — the sound of a laptop snapping shut.

“You cheeky liar,” the woman said to him, rising from her seat. In two steps, she was by his side but did not touch him until the wave of pain had passed and he was relatively upright. Only then did she practically push him onto the stool, forcing him to sit. “Sit here and don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Spencer, following the order, didn’t move. Mostly because he wasn’t sure if he could even get up on his own. If the pain brought any good at all, it was that it at least overshadowed the feeling of embarrassment that filled him when the woman returned to the kitchen with a first aid kit, which she loudly set down on the counter.

In the way she set it down and the sound that echoed, he sensed an unmistakable, openly displayed anger. He had to admit, he hadn’t expected such a reaction at all. He watched it all like some unknown water he couldn’t swim in, deciding not to speak first to avoid sinking.

“Tell me, how long did you plan to keep babbling with me before admitting that you’re not okay?”

He couldn’t stop himself from replying, “I am okay,” to which she only scoffed loudly. He felt as if the legs of his stool had suddenly lowered by several inches—dragging him down with them.

“People who are okay don’t usually double over in pain from a sneeze,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest and giving him a piercing stare. “People with rib or chest injuries do.”

Spencer clenched his jaw slightly and exhaled shallowly.

“You’d probably laugh,” he muttered. He didn’t think too hard about the words before letting them slip out, but he truly believed them. The woman pulled her head back, eyes wide in disbelief. Spencer broke eye contact and fixed his gaze on his bruised knuckles, running the fingers of one hand across the other. “It wasn’t some phenomenal fight, and anyone would tell you that. I just got beaten up.”

“Well, I see something different,” she said.

Spencer didn’t quite understand what she meant until he shifted his gaze to her face and noticed she was looking directly at his knuckles. Even so, he awkwardly shook his head from side to side.

“You weren’t there.”

She tilted her head slightly, silent, looking as though she had a dozen things to say but wasn’t sure which to pick. In the end, she spread one hand to the side with a shrug.

“Does it even matter?” she asked. “You still have wounds that need tending. Take it off.”

Seeing that Spencer wasn’t exactly eager to cooperate and didn’t even move, she snorted.

“Or I’ll just…”

She stepped closer and started unbuttoning his shirt herself, beginning with the ones near the collar. Spencer wasn’t cooperative, but he didn’t protest either. A kind of resignation settled over him, and maybe he just didn’t care anymore.

“Either way, I’m going to ask the team what really happened,” she stated. Her fingers kept working on the buttons. What he noticed was that her movements were the complete opposite of her tone and manner of speech—slow and gentle. “If I find out you went up against some giant all by yourself, I’ll be furious. None of you have any sense of self-preservation, and that’s not just about you—it’s all of you. Sometimes it’s better to wait for backup…”

“Sometimes there’s no time,” he cut in.

For a moment, she shifted her gaze from the button she was working on to his face.

“You’re one of a kind. There’ll be plenty more unsubs to catch.”

“So the victims.”

Only then did her hands really slow down, just at the last button. She sighed.

“Okay, that’s not something I can really argue with,” she admitted. Spencer didn’t feel like the winner in this discussion, though. Once his shirt was fully unbuttoned, she carefully helped him slip both arms out of it, and he realized he didn’t even feel embarrassed about his half-nakedness. He didn’t have time to dwell on that realization, as he focused on her reaction and the concentrated look in her eyes as she stared at his ribs.

He looked down on himself. Bruising from rib injuries usually appeared only after some time because of how well-protected they were by muscles and fat tissue, but since he was rather slim, a faint bruise had already started to show. Her hand landed on one of them and even though she barely brushed it, Spencer held his breath from the sharp pain. She didn’t pull her hand away, however, examining the spot with attention.

“It’s warm and starting to swell. You really weren’t going to mention it at all? Spencer, they might be broken.”

He made eye contact with her, holding back from squeezing his eyes shut when her hand moved further up, to a spot that hurt even more.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. He couldn’t hide it — his voice shook completely and nearly broke into a whimper. He also drew a sharp breath into his lungs, which only worsened the pain.

Only then did she pull away. Spencer avoided looking directly at her face just above his, but he accidentally did when his head tilted slightly back from the conflicting sensation in his side. Her expression was rather unreadable, but definitely no longer angry. More concerned. The way anyone would look if their flatmate was writhing in pain right in front of them.

“Sorry, but I don’t trust any of your opinions when it comes to your health or well-being. You’re painfully biased and you overlook literally everything,” she muttered with a scoff.

Even though it was a criticism of him, Spencer nearly burst out laughing. He had to hold it back, though.

Meanwhile, the woman bit her lower lip thoughtfully.

“Let me be the judge of whether they’re broken. Try to sit up straighter, okay?”

She stepped back and motioned for him to breathe. She observed the rise and fall of his bare chest for a moment, and the weight of her gaze — along with the silence between them — felt almost suffocating. Even though he knew it was just an examination, he wanted to throw his shirt back on the second she finished.

“How do you even know what you’re doing?” he asked.

“Don’t talk.”

“No, genuinely, I’m wondering.”

She sighed impatiently.

“Let’s say it’s not the first time I’ve done something like this,” she said enigmatically. “For some reason, everyone sees me as a perfect, private nurse.”

Spencer frowned, unconvinced. She noticed, and the corner of her mouth twitched.

“Ask Morgan if you don’t believe me.”

She seemed to have finished watching his breathing. She was by his side again, leaning in slightly. Her hands slowly pressed against his ribs, meanwhile focusing on the places without bruises and that didn’t cause as much pain.

“So,” he started quietly, carefully controlling himself so as not to make any embarrassing noise, “is this kind of a typical Thursday for you?”

She locked eyes with him, not letting go or stepping back.

“No, actually this one is quite special,” she murmured. Spencer hesitantly parted his lips, not quite sure what she meant, but curious. Even impatient for her to finish the thought. She, as if on purpose, didn’t hurry.

He watched as her body straightened, her hands slid off him and crossed, one of her hips shifted to the side, and it was clear she was about to announce the final diagnosis. He preferred that she finish her previous thought first.

“I’ve never met anyone who blushed because I glanced at their bruised ribs,” she finally said, and it was obvious she was barely holding back amusement at the sudden change in his expression. “That’s why it’s so special.”

Spencer tried to keep a straight face through it all, though he could feel real heat rising on his neck and face. It always happened whenever someone pointed out his blushing — as if it were something he could control. Sometimes it just happened, even without a good reason. He gave a slight nod.

“So you’re saying it’s just bruised?” he asked. She smiled wickedly at the smooth topic change, but he pretended not to notice. “So I was right?”

She rolled her eyes, though there was something gentle in the gesture.

“Yes, you were right. But don’t get too excited—you still have bruised ribs.”

She hesitated for a moment, and then, for what must’ve been the umpteenth time, moved closer to him again. This time, however, her hand didn’t go to his ribs but to his face. She brushed a few strands of hair away so she could quietly inspect the butterfly bandage over the cut on his brow.

He thought she was going to say something about it, but she didn’t. She just looked at him, his hair caught between her fingers.

“You’ll be fine if you lie down on the couch for a bit,” she said softly. She let go of his hair, which, true to form, fell right back into a different shape than it had before she touched it. Unbothered, she lightly combed through it again with her nails, as if restoring order had become her goal. “I mean, not lie down completely. It’d be best if you were half-sitting, half-lying. I’ll bring you some ice in a minute. Something for the pain wouldn’t hurt either.”

Spencer frowned slightly, studying the expression on her face. Surprisingly soft—and only then did a certain question arise in him, one about her behavior that day and the care she had shown, which he decided to hold onto for just a little longer.

Instead, he chose to clarify something.

“You’re bringing me ice? While I’m just lying there?”

“Sweet of me, right? You should be grateful,” she replied smoothly.

“I am,” he admitted immediately, almost instinctively, with a slight nod of his head. “But why are you doing all this, really?”

Her hand finally finished its renovation of his hair and handed him his shirt, which he caught, though he didn’t put it on yet.

“Because,” she began slowly, “you could be bleeding internally and still pretend you’re totally fine. And if you died…” She reached out toward the cat sitting on the kitchen island, gently scratching her under the chin. “Marie would be fatherless. And I’d have to find someone else to bully.”

He parted his lips slightly, raising his eyebrows.

“So that’s really my only purpose..?”

She tilted her head, flashing him an overly sweet, innocent yet commanding smile.

“Go lie down, sweetheart.”

#spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid #spence reid #spencer reid criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #diva reader ♱#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you

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pbaz7 · 5 months ago

Text

ONE SHOT: HEAT CHECK

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content (whores 😒)

word count: 10.2k

A/N: This idea was not mine at all so all praise to the anon who sent me the prompt. I hope I was able to make your vision come to life lol. Let me know what you think! Very minimal proof reading this time so spare me

—————————————————————————

Paige had convinced herself she was fine, she was great actually. Really, she was.

Sure, her WNBA debut was one of the biggest moments of her life. Sure, she had spent the last 24 hours checking her phone, hoping for some last-minute miracle text from Azzi. But Azzi was in California for an endorsement meeting—one Paige knew was too important to miss.

It’s fine, she told herself again and again all day. She was now tugging at the hem of her warm-up shirt as she stood in the tunnel before tip-off. Azzi had sent her a long, sweet text a few hours ago, promising to watch the game no matter what. Paige could practically hear Azzi’s voice in the words, telling her she’d be amazing, that she’d be right there with her in spirit.

Still, it wasn’t the same.

She had wanted Azzi there. Needed her there, to fall into her arms after the game.

“Damn, P, you good?” Arike nudged her as they jogged back onto the court.

Paige blinked. “Yeah, why?”

“You just look... a little tense.”

Paige forced a grin. “It’s just the nerves.”

And it was. But it was also the fact that the one person she wanted to see in the stands—the only person whose opinion matters—wasn’t going to be there.

She glanced toward the front rows, taking in the packed arena. She couldn’t help but chuckle when she noticed some people.

Ice, KK, Sarah, Morgan and empty seats next to them surely for some other teammates.

They were one row back from the courtside seats, already settled in, talking amongst themselves. KK had her feet kicked out in front of her, looking completely at home, while Ice was scrolling through her phone. Sarah and Morgan were in conversation, but Paige could tell from the way Sarah was laughing that Morgan had just said something ridiculous.

A grin broke across Paige’s face.

But before she could even process it fully, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of player introductions.

She exhaled, shaking out her hands.

Okay. This was good.

Her people were here.

Well… almost all of them.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to focus.

The first half of the first quarter had been a blur. Paige had settled into the game quickly, feeding off the energy of the packed arena, her nerves long gone as she focused on what she did best. She hadn’t even thought too much about Azzi—not because she didn’t want to, but because she couldn’t afford to.

Paige was sitting on the bench during a timeout when the crowd erupted out of nowhere, loud and excited, their cheers rising above the usual buzz of a timeout. Paige, confused, wiped her face with a towel and glanced at the jumbo screen, searching for whatever had them going crazy.

Paige swore her mouth went dry.

Azzi was sitting courtside, waving to the camera like she knew exactly what she was doing. Her hair was in goddess braids—her go-to summer look—but it wasn’t just the hair that caught Paige off guard. It was the entire outfit.

Cowboy hat. Cowboy boots. A very short jean skirt. And Paige’s #5 Dallas Wings jersey.

Azzi was chewing her gum lazily, her glossed lips moving slightly in the process. She turned her head toward the court, her gaze locking on Paige like she had been waiting for this exact moment. A slow, smirk tugged at her lips before she sent Paige a quick wink.

Paige felt her pulse stutter.

“Oh damn,” Lou murmured beside her, letting out a low whistle. “She looks hot.”

Paige exhaled sharply, shaking her head as she wiped her towel across her face again, as if that would somehow cool her down.

Azzi just kept smirking.

The timeout buzzer sounded, but Paige was still sitting there, gripping her towel, her mind catching up to the fact that Azzi had somehow made it. Had gone out of her way to be here. Had done it all without telling her.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or drag Azzi out of her seat as soon as the game was done.

One thing was for sure, though—she’d be thinking about that damn outfit for the rest of the game.

After the timeout, Paige tried to refocus, but it was impossible to ignore Azzi, sitting courtside, looking like that.

Paige was doing her best to stay locked in, but every time the ball left her hands, she felt a certain pair of brown eyes on her. When she drained a deep three from the wing, she knew exactly where to look.

Her gaze flickered to Azzi, who was already watching her, the corners of her lips tugging up in the smallest smile. She didn’t cheer, didn’t do anything flashy like their friends in the row behind her—just raised her eyebrows slightly, as if to say, that’s cute.

Paige fought back a smirk as she jogged back on defense.

She didn’t have time to get caught up in whatever game Azzi was playing. Paige and Arike were playing off of each other perfectly. Their ball movement was seamless, as if they had played together for years and the defense was scrambling to keep up. Every time the defense adjusted, they had another move ready, feeding off each other in a way that made it clear just how dangerous this duo was going to be in the future.

But then, late in the quarter, Paige had to inbound the ball—right in front of Azzi’s seat.

She swallowed, walking over as the cameras in the arena turned in their direction. The moment stretched between them, tension buzzing in the air as Paige took her place near the sideline.

Azzi, fully aware of the attention on them, just leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs as she sipped her drink through a straw. It was a simple action—calm, almost nonchalant—but Paige could smell her perfume, that warm vanilla scent mixed with something slightly sweet, and it had her clenching her jaw just a little tighter.

Azzi must have noticed because she glanced up at Paige through her lashes, her lips curving just slightly before she took another sip of her drink, covering her smirk behind the straw so the camera couldn’t see.

Paige exhaled through her nose, biting the inside of her cheek at the attention.

Azzi didn’t say a word.

She didn’t need to.

She already knew Paige was thinking about her.

The ref finally handed Paige the ball, and she shifted back into game mode, shaking her head slightly to clear her thoughts as she got ready to make the inbound pass.

…

As soon as the final buzzer sounded and the win was officially in the books, Paige barely registered anything else. The moment she finished the postgame handshakes, she was already untucking her jersey, her feet moving on autopilot toward Azzi and her old teammates waiting courtside.

Azzi didn’t stand right away. She let Paige greet Ice, KK, Morgan, and Sarah first, all of them pulling her into hugs, hyping her up.

“You were hoopin’ tonight girly,” KK grinned, giving her a playful shove.

Paige smirked, bumping her back. “You know I had to put on a show for y’all.”

Ice threw an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s be real—you didn’t start playing for real until you saw Azzi.”

Paige rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t even argue.

Finally, she turned to Azzi.

Azzi stood, her smile soft and her eyes warm as Paige immediately pulled her into a tight hug resting her head on Azzi shoulder. Paige held on for a second longer than necessary, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume, her heart settling in a way it hadn’t all night.

When she finally pulled back, she let her eyes sweep over Azzi, her gaze dragging over the cowboy hat, the denim skirt, and—most importantly—her jersey over Azzi’s frame.

“You look good,” Paige mumbled, voice just low enough for only Azzi to hear.

Azzi’s lips curled into a smirk, her eyes flickering with something.

“I know.”

Paige let her eyes drag over Azzi, taking in every little detail. She licked her lips without thinking, fingers twitching slightly at her sides.

Azzi, catching the look immediately, gave her a warning glance. “Stop,” she mumbled, tilting her head slightly. “We’re in public, and there’s cameras everywhere.”

Paige barely blinked. “I don’t care,” she muttered, her voice a little low as she reached down and tugged discreetly at the hem of Azzi’s skirt. “When’d you get this?”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Yesterday.”

Before Paige could respond, Lou appeared, sliding into the conversation with a huge grin.

“Azzi, you made it!” Lou beamed, pulling Azzi into a hug.

Paige took the opportunity to really look at her again, her gaze tracing over Azzi’s outfit, the way the jersey fit her just right, the way her legs looked in that skirt, the way she still had that damn smirk on her face.

Azzi felt her staring.

And she definitely wasn’t imagining the way Paige’s fingers brushed the back of her thigh before she pulled her hand away.

For a second Paige spent some time with her family, hugging her mom tightly, dapping up her dad, and joking around with her brothers and sister. The excitement from her first W game in Dallas was still buzzing around them, but before she could fully settle in, one of the staff members called her over telling her they wanted her for a postgame interview.

Before heading back, she found Azzi again, stepping up close as she spoke. “I’ll have Lou bring you the keys in a second.”

Azzi just nodded, her eyes still holding that same glint from earlier.

But before Paige could walk away, a photographer approached them, camera in hand, gesturing toward them for a picture.

Paige didn’t hesitate. She wrapped an arm around Azzi’s waist, pulling her in close, and Azzi melted into her, tilting her head against Paige’s shoulder. Her hand rested lightly on Paige’s stomach, fingers grazing the fabric of her jersey, and Paige swore she could feel the warmth of her touch through it.

The camera flashed.

Azzi smirked.

Then, they adjusted, shifting slightly as the photographer snapped more pictures.

In one, Paige held Azzi a little tighter, her fingers pressing into the soft denim of Azzi’s skirt. In another, Azzi turned slightly, her hand now resting a little firmer against Paige’s stomach.

Without even thinking about it, they turned toward each other.

For a moment, it was just them.

Azzi smiled first—it was small, soft, just for Paige—and Paige couldn’t help but mirror it, her grip tightening slightly on Azzi’s waist.

Click.

Paige barely heard the sound of the camera going off, but she knew that shit was about to be everywhere.

…

After showering and changing in the locker room Paige felt the exhaustion in her body, but the second she stepped into the garage and saw her car, that tiredness melted away.

She couldn’t fully see Azzi through the tint, but she knew she was in there.

A slow smile spread across Paige’s face as she walked past the driver’s side, stopping at the passenger door instead. She opened it, reaching inside and gently pulling Azzi out.

Azzi blinked at her, momentarily confused, adjusting her balance as she placed her cowboy hat on the seat behind her. "What are you doing?"

Paige just smiled, shutting the door before settling her hands on Azzi’s waist. Her gaze dragged over Azzi’s face, then down to her outfit—the denim skirt showing off just enough to make Paige’s pulse stutter.

“You look so good, baby,” Paige mumbled.

Azzi gave a small smile as she wrapped her arms around Paige’s neck. She hummed, tilting her head slightly.

“I know you already told me P.”

Paige chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. The moment felt thick now—like all the tension from the night had finally caught up to them.

She leaned in, her lips hovering just above Azzi’s, “The correct response is thank you baby.”

Azzi rolled her eyes and exhaled softly, her back pressing against the car as she followed Paige’s lead, tilting her chin up just enough to close the space between them.

The kiss was deep and desperate—the kind that made up for lost time. They hadn’t seen each other in over a week, and while that might not have been long for most people, for them, it felt like forever.

Paige’s tongue slid into Azzi’s mouth, her grip tightening as her hands moved under Azzi’s skirt, squeezing her ass.

Azzi let out a small sound at the feeling, a mix between a gasp and a pleased hum, pulling Paige closer as their bodies pressed together against the car.

They stayed tangled in each other for a while enjoying the feeling of the others lips after so long, But then Paige started trailing kisses down Azzi’s jaw, then lower, her lips brushing against the soft parts of her neck.

Azzi let out a breathy laugh, her hands coming up to Paige’s shoulders. “Alright, that’s enough ma’am.”

Paige mumbled against her skin, her voice muffled. “Come on, I miss you Az.”

Azzi smiled, tilting Paige’s chin up slightly so their eyes met. “I miss you too, baby, but we’re in public. And still in your place of work.”

Paige sighed dramatically, pulling back just enough to pout at her. “Fine.”

Azzi grinned before leaning in one last time, pressing a quick kiss to Paige’s lips, then turned toward the car. Paige exhaled, shaking her head fondly, before opening the passenger door for her.

As Azzi stepped in, Paige smiled, landing a playful smack on her butt. Azzi shot her a look over her shoulder, but the small playful smile on her lips betrayed her.

Paige shut the door, chuckling to herself as she made her way around to the driver’s side.

As Paige pulled out of the garage, steering them toward the afterparty, she finally got to ask the question that had been sitting in the back of her mind all night.

“How the hell did you even make it to the game?”

Azzi smiled, leaning back in her seat. “I moved my meeting up.”

Paige furrowed her brows, sparing a glance at Azzi before turning her attention back to the road. “To what time? It was already early as hell.”

Azzi shrugged slightly, like it was nothing. “Six.”

Paige’s head snapped toward her so fast she nearly forgot she was driving. “Six A.M.?”

Azzi hummed in confirmation, barely reacting.

“Baby, that’s crazy,” Paige said, shaking her head, still processing.

Azzi just shrugged again, scrolling on her phone.

Paige narrowed her eyes. “Did you close it?”

Azzi turned to her, giving her a look like she was almost offended by the question. “Of course.”

Paige grinned, reaching over and squeezing Azzi’s thigh. “That’s my girl.”

They kept talking as they drove, catching up even though they had talked every single day. Paige’s hand stayed resting on Azzi’s thigh, her fingers lazily tracing patterns over her skin as they talked.

Azzi didn’t mind. She let it stay there for most of the ride.

But then, at some point, Paige’s hand slid a little too high.

Azzi glanced at her, eyes narrowing. “Can you not?”

Paige didn’t even look at her, barely suppressing a smirk. “What?” she asked innocently, moving her pinky slightly just to prove a point.

Azzi scoffed. “You know what you’re doing.”

Paige smirked now, finally glancing at her. “I don’t know why you wore that skirt if you didn’t want me touching you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “I wore it for you.”

Paige grinned, turning her focus back to the road. “Exactly. So let me be.”

Azzi huffed, shaking her head, but she didn’t bother fighting it.

As they drove through the city, Paige glanced over at Azzi, who was casually scrolling through her phone.

“You know,” she started, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel, “if you would’ve told me you were coming, I probably would’ve played a lot better in the first few minutes of the game.”

Azzi grinned but didn’t look up. “And miss the chance to see your reaction when you noticed me on the jumbotron? Nah.”

Paige scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re rude.”

Azzi finally looked over at her, her smile softening. “You looked good out there, though baby I’m proud of you.”

Paige grinned, tilting her head. “Just good?”

Azzi sighed, playing along. “Fine. You looked great.”

“That’s more like it.” Paige reached over and squeezed Azzi’s thigh, then let her hand rest there again. “You staying with me for the whole month, right?”

Azzi nodded. “Yup. Figured I’d get tired of you after two weeks, but I’ll push through.”

Paige scoffed. “You love being around me.”

Azzi hummed. “You’re alright I guess.”

Paige gave her a look. “Bro please be for real.”

Azzi laughed, leaning back in her seat. “Okay, okay, yeah. I might love being around you all the time, just a little.”

Paige smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

They fell into a comfortable silence again, the only sound being the low hum of the car. After a moment, Paige gave Azzi’s thigh another squeeze before deciding to voice her thoughts.

“I want you to keep it on later,” she said, giving no context.

Azzi turned her head slowly, raising a brow. She didn’t need to ask what Paige meant—she knew.

“Who said you’re getting anything later?”

Paige shot her a quick look, deadpan. “Be for real Azzi.”

Azzi bit back a smile, letting the moment linger before finally sighing dramatically. “Whatever. I’ll think about it.”

Paige smirked as she pulled the car to a stop in front of the club. “Yeah, okay.”

As Paige handed her keys to the valet, she turned just in time to see Azzi stepping out of the car, holding down her skirt as she did so. Paige sighed, running a hand down her face.

“Nah,” she mumbled, eyes trailing down Azzi’s legs before flicking back up. “You’re not leaving my sight tonight.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but smiled, reaching for Paige’s hand and interlacing their fingers. “You’re so dramatic.”

Paige just shook her head. “I’m deadass.”

They walked into the venue, the bass from the music vibrating through the floor as they entered. The afterparty was already in full swing, players, friends, family and staff scattered across the club. Neon lights flickered over the bar, where bottles gleamed and loud laughter echoed over the music.

Before they could make it too far inside, a familiar voice rang out.

“P!”

Paige barely had time to react before Arike, already a few shots in, threw an arm around her shoulder. Her grin was as she pulled Paige in.

“We’re about to go crazy this year,” Arike yelled. “Tonight’s just the start rook.”

Paige laughed, nodding along. “You’re not wrong.”

Arike squeezed her shoulder before letting her go, and moving back toward the dance floor.

Paige turned toward Azzi, who just gave her an amused look. “She’s so different from what I expected.”

Paige laughed. “Bro just give her three more shots, and she’s gonna pull out a bible and make them turn off the music.”

Azzi chuckled as Paige nodded toward the bar. “C’mon, I see Lou, Ice, and KK.”

They made their way over, spotting them leaning against the counter, drinks in hand. Ice was mid-sip when she noticed them, setting her drink down with a smile.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Ice teased, nudging KK. “And look at Paige bro.”

KK snorted, giving Azzi an exaggerated once-over. “I see why. Azzi, you tryna get someone in trouble tonight?”

Azzi rolled her eyes but smiled. “I literally just got here, and y’all are already on me?”

Lou laughed, sipping her drink. “You did walk in looking like that, though. You knew what you were doing.”

Paige hummed, wrapping an arm loosely around Azzi’s waist. “Exactly what I’ve been saying.”

Azzi just shook her head, leaning into Paige slightly. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

Lou raised her glass. “To another season and all of Paige’s sanity being tested.”

…

Paige and Azzi leaned against the bar, the bass of the music making the floor vibrate as they waited for another shot to accompany the drink they already had. The club was packed now. Paige had one arm draped loosely around Azzi’s waist, absentmindedly tracing her thumb over the fabric of her jersey as she barely listened to what Ice, KK, and Lou were saying.

Azzi took a slow sip from her glass, her lips wrapping around the straw before smirking at Paige. “You gonna keep staring at me, or you actually gonna drink yours?”

Paige huffed a laugh, taking a sip, eyes still on Azzi. “Hard not to when you’re wearing that.” Her hand brushed against the hem of Azzi’s short denim skirt, making Azzi arch an eyebrow at her.

“You’re horny,” Azzi murmured, leaning in just slightly so only Paige could hear.

Paige just grinned, shrugging. “I’ve been told.”

Their easy back-and-forth continued as they downed a couple of drinks, the warmth settling in and loosening them up. They weren’t being overly affectionate—just hanging out, laughing with their friends, letting the night settle around them. At one point, Lou challenged them to a ridiculous game of guessing random people’s professions just based on their outfits, and Paige and Azzi found themselves doubled over when KK confidently said some guy was a lawyer, only for him to turn around wearing a DJ staff badge.

Just as Paige was finishing her drink, she noticed Arike waving her over from a section across the club. With a smirk, she turned to Azzi, reaching up to flick the brim of her cowboy hat playfully.

“I’ll be right back, beautiful,” she murmured, her voice just low enough for Azzi to feel it more than hear it.

Azzi tilted her head. “Don’t take too long,” she said simply, sipping her drink again as Paige walked away.

A few minutes after Paige left Azzi was mid-sip of her drink when she felt someone slide up next to her at the bar. She barely had time to set her glass down before she heard a voice— one with a beach accent and distinctly unfamiliar.

“Hi, I’m Sevgi, but most people call me Sev. Or Gi.”

Azzi turned slightly, taking in the dark-haired woman beside her. Sevgi’s accent was thick, her posture confident as she leaned against the bar. Azzi, assuming she was just introducing herself as one of Paige’s new teammates, smiled politely and shook her hand.

“Azzi.”

Sevgi held her gaze, her lips forming into a smile. “You’re beautiful, Azzi.”

Azzi almost choked on her drink. She set it down quickly, grabbing a napkin to wipe her lips before forcing a tight smile. “Uh… thanks.”

Sevgi’s expression remained relaxed, like she hadn’t just casually caught Azzi off guard. “I’ve watched a few UConn games but I haven’t seen you around before. Did you move to Dallas?”

Azzi shook her head, sipping her drink again. “No, I don’t live here yet. I’m just visiting Paige for a while before going back to school.”

Sevgi’s gaze flickering toward where Paige was standing talking to Arike before settling back on Azzi. “Ah, so you’re here for Paige?” She hummed as if processing something. “Seems like a lot of people are, they love her already around here.”

Azzi simply hummed, confused by the comment. Suddenly wondering where the hell Ice and KK disappeared to.

Sevgi took another sip of her drink before smiling. “Paige Bueckers. One of the best to ever do it they say.” Her eyes flickered over Azzi’s face, her voice dropping just slightly. “I think she’s even luckier than I realized.”

Azzi’s brows lifted, her body tensing slightly as she finally clocked what was happening.

Before she could fully react, Sevgi leaned in just a fraction, lowering her voice like she was letting Azzi in on a secret. “I have a thing for shooters,” she said, her tone light but suggestive. “Especially ones with eyes like yours.”

Azzi, not really knowing how to navigate this, just says “Huh….”

Sevgi grinned, her fingers lightly drumming against the bar. “Mm. There’s something about precision, about the way a shooter locks in. So much focus, so much control…” Her voice dipped just slightly as she added, “It’s very attractive.”

Azzi exhaled through her nose, half amused by the attempt, half uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure if Sevgi just had a naturally flirtatious personality or if she genuinely had no idea that Azzi was very much taken.

Just as she opened her mouth to say something—anything to shift the conversation—she felt an all-too-familiar presence beside her.

Paige, who had returned from talking to Arike and was now standing between them with an unreadable expression.

Azzi barely had time to react to her presence before Paige’s hand was resting on the back of her neck.

“You’re a little close there, Gi, no?” Paige’s voice was light, but there was a slight edge beneath it that Azzi caught.

Sevgi turned her attention to Paige, offering a smooth smile. “I was just getting to know your—” she glanced at Azzi as if choosing her words carefully, “—your beautiful friend from UConn.”

Paige’s jaw tensed slightly, but she didn’t let it show, her fingers subtly tightening against Azzi’s neck. “Yeah? Well, my beautiful girlfriend doesn’t need any new friends tonight.”

Azzi bit the inside of her cheek, holding back a smirk.

Sevgi’s smile didn’t waver. “You know rook, in my culture, we don’t limit beautiful women to just one.”

Paige’s jaw tightened at that comment. “Look, Gi,” she said, her voice calm, “I really don’t know you that well yet, so I don’t know if you’re trying to be disrespectful or not, but I really hope that’s not the case.”

Sevgi held her gaze for a moment longer before raising her hands in mock surrender. “No disrespect. Just an observation is all.”

Paige didn’t blink. “Yeah? Well, here’s another one since we’re giving out observations—you’re standing too close to my girl.”

Sevgi exhaled, taking a small step back. “Noted.” She gave Azzi one last lingering look before saying, “Still… you’re stunning.”

Paige let out a sharp breath, her patience wearing thin.

Azzi, deciding to cut things off before Paige really lost her temper, gave Sevgi a polite but firm smile. “Appreciate it, but I’m good where I’m at. Really.”

Sevgi smiled but didn’t push further. “Fair enough.” She grabbed her drink and disappeared back into the crowd.

As soon as Sevgi was gone, Paige turned fully toward Azzi. Her jaw was still tight, but her eyes softened slightly as she took in Azzi’s amused expression.

“I leave you alone for two seconds,” Paige muttered, shaking her head.

Azzi laughed, looping her arms around Paige’s neck and pulling her in closer. “Not my fault I look good.”

Paige huffed, her fingers tugging at the hem of Azzi’s skirt. “It’s because of the skirt.”

Azzi let out another laugh, glancing down. “You can barely see my skirt—I’m sitting down.”

Paige hugged her tighter, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she said, “Exactly. It’s too short.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You weren’t saying that when you were grabbing my ass in the garage.”

Paige’s expression flickered for a moment before a smile spread across her lips. “Mmm… you make a good point.”

Before Azzi could respond, Paige pulled her up from her seat, and palmed her ass with both hands, squeezing firmly.

Azzi gasped, half-laughing. “Paige—”

“What?” Paige murmured, leaning in, voice dropping lower. “You were making a good point baby.”

Azzi exhaled, biting her lip as she shook her head. “You’re a perv.”

Paige rolled her eyes, completely unbothered. “No, I’m not. You’re my girl.”

Azzi huffed like she was annoyed, but the way she wrapped her arms fully around Paige’s head said otherwise. She pulled Paige in, pressing their lips together in a kiss. Paige responds immediately, squeezing her closer. The music and noise of the club faded into the background, the warmth of the moment making Azzi’s fingers tighten slightly in Paige’s hair.

Paige gave Azzi’s butt another squeeze, deepening the kiss, but just as she was about to take it a step further, Azzi mumbled against her lips, “I’m bored.”

Paige pulled back just enough to look at her. “Kissing me is boring now?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, fingers still playing with the hairs at the back of Paige’s neck. “No, us being here is boring.”

Paige smirked. “Oh yeah? What you wanna do then?”

Azzi tilted her head slightly, eyes flickering over Paige’s face as she tugged at the jersey she was wearing. “Go home,” she murmured. “Maybe show you how much I miss you… wear this for you like you want me to.”

Paige let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah come on, we’re leaving.”

The drive back to Paige’s apartment was quiet, the soft hum of music playing in the background as the Dallas city lights blurred past them. Azzi’s hand rested lightly over Paige’s, which had been sitting comfortably on her thigh since they got in the car. Neither of them had spoken much.

Paige was focused on the road, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against Azzi’s skin, but then she felt Azzi’s hand shifting, guiding Paige’s palm higher up her thigh. Paige’s grip instinctively tightened for a brief second before she shot her a look.

“Azzi,” she warned.

Azzi just hummed, acting innocent as she leaned over the center console, playing with the short hairs at the back of Paige’s neck. Paige swallowed hard, keeping her eyes locked on the road.

“You’re gonna make me crash,” Paige muttered, her jaw clenching slightly.

Azzi smirked, watching her with that look in her eyes. “Then keep your eyes on the road, baby.” Her fingers still tracing over Paige’s skin, her nails lightly scratching at the nape of her neck just to make her shiver.

Paige exhaled through her nose, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her spine, but then she felt Azzi shift closer, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss to the side of her neck.

“Azzi.” This time, her voice was rougher.

“Hmm?” Azzi responded innocently, her lips grazing against her again.

Paige let out a slow breath through her nose, gripping the wheel a little tighter as she cast a quick glance at Azzi. A smirk was playing on her lips like she knew exactly what she was doing.

“What you doing, baby?” Paige asked, her voice lower now.

Azzi’s lips brushed against her jaw again, just barely. “I just miss you,” she murmured, her fingers still tracing soft patterns at the back of Paige’s neck.

Paige exhaled sharply but didn’t stop her. “You’re making it hard to drive, pretty girl.”

Azzi leaned back slightly, but not enough to fully retreat, still draped over the center console. “You’ve done more while you were driving before.”

Paige shot her another side glance, smirking now. “I remember. You couldn’t wait until we got home.”

Azzi hummed, tilting her head slightly. “Exactly. I had on jeans if I remember correctly.”

Paige swallowed, her jaw tightening as the memory rushed back to her. She nodded, gripping the wheel a little harder.

Azzi’s gaze flickered down to Paige’s hands before she spoke again, her voice quieter, almost too casual for what she was implying. “I have on a skirt now.”

Paige’s knuckles went white on the wheel.

Paige glanced at her, eyes flickering over her face before settling on her lips for just a second too long. “You drunk or something, baby?” she asked.

Azzi met her gaze. “No,” she said simply. “I told you, I just miss you.” She shifted slightly, her nails tracing absentmindedly over the back of Paige’s hand. “You think I dressed like this for fun?”

Paige swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling dry. Without thinking, she moved her hand up, her pinky brushing lightly against Azzi’s inner thigh.

Azzi let out the softest sigh, barely audible over the low hum of the music. She didn’t say anything, just leaned back and watched her.

Paige exhaled, shaking her head as a slow smirk spread across her lips. “You really tryna kill me tonight, huh?”

Azzi smiled, leaning her head back against the seat. “No. Not yet.”

Paige’s pinky traced slow, deliberate circles against Azzi’s underwear. She kept her eyes on the road, but the slight smile on her lips told Azzi she was enjoying this.

Azzi exhaled softly, shifting just a little, her breath hitching when Paige’s fingers pressed firmer for half a second before retreating, barely there.

Paige hummed. “You were saying?” she mused.

Azzi bit her lip, eyes dark as she glanced over at Paige. “I said… not yet.” Her voice was breathier now, betraying the effect Paige’s teasing was having on her.

Paige chuckled under her breath, her fingers tracing lazily along Azzi’s center, never quite moving where Azzi wanted but never pulling away either. Every so often, her knuckles would graze a little firmer, making Azzi’s legs tense slightly before relaxing again.

Azzi let out another quiet sigh, her fingers curling against the seat. “You’re playing too much,” she said, her voice laced with some frustration.

Paige turned her head just enough to meet her gaze, her smile growing. “Oh, now I’m the one playing?” She pressed her fingers a little more firmly, dragging them slowly along, savoring the way Azzi’s breath hitched again.

Azzi inhaled sharply, her whole body tensing in anticipation the moment Paige’s hand slipped beneath her underwear. Her eyes fluttered shut, a soft breath escaping her lips as she waited.

But then, suddenly, the warmth of Paige’s touch was gone completely.

Azzi’s eyes snapped open just in time to catch Paige lifting her thumb to her mouth, sucking on it.

Paige’s expression was casual, her eyes locked on the road, one hand steady on the wheel.

Azzi let out a sharp exhale, half frustration, half disbelief. “You’re such an asshole.”

Paige hummed around her thumb before popping it out with a smirk. “Oh, now I’m an asshole?” She flicked her gaze over to Azzi, blue eyes sparkling. “But I thought you missed me?”

Azzi clenched her jaw, narrowing her eyes as she shifted in her seat. “I do.” Her voice was firm, but there was a slight pout forming on her lips.

Paige chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. “Then be patient, baby.” Her hand returned to Azzi’s thigh, but this time, it was just resting there.

Azzi huffed, crossing her arms. “You’re mean.”

Paige fired back instantly, her smile only growing. “And you’re a brat.”

Azzi scoffed, shifting in her seat again so she was leaning away from Paige. “Maybe if you weren’t being so mean, I wouldn’t have to be.”

Paige let out a chuckle, squeezing Azzi’s thigh before pulling back again, just to be a tease. “Oh, is that how it works? So it’s my fault?”

Azzi turned her head to look at her. “Obviously.”

Paige bit back a grin, keeping her eyes on the road. “Sounds like someone needs to learn the word patience.”

Azzi let out a scoff. “I think someone needs to stop talking and drive faster.”

Paige hummed in amusement. “Oh, now you want me to focus on driving?” She shot Azzi a quick glance, lifting a brow. “Wasn’t that an issue, like, five minutes ago?”

Azzi exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “That was different.”

Paige laughed softly, reaching over to tug at the hem of Azzi’s jersey, pulling her slightly closer. “Mm. Convenient.”

Azzi let out a quiet groan, flopping back in her seat. “I hate you.”

Paige just chuckled again, squeezing Azzi’s thigh one last time before finally giving in and stepping on the gas just a little harder.

As Paige pulled into the garage, she barely had the car in park before Azzi was already unbuckling her seatbelt and pushing the door open.

Paige watched in amusement as Azzi slipped out, her long legs moving toward the house without so much as a glance back. Paige let out a chuckle, shaking her head as she turned off the engine.

By the time she made it inside, Azzi was by the entryway, bent down as she worked on taking off her cowboy boots. Paige let her eyes roam, taking in the way Azzi’s skirt rode up completely with the position, exposing more of her toned legs. Smirking, Paige stepped up behind her, hands easily finding her hips before she rolled her hips forward, playfully pressing into her.

“Don’t be like that, baby,” Paige murmured.

Azzi sucked in a sharp breath before immediately shoving her off, making Paige stumble back a step. She stood up, kicking off her boots without sparing Paige a glance before walking deeper into the house.

Paige chuckled, licking her lips as she followed. “Oh, so now you’re ignoring me?”

Azzi still didn’t say anything.

Paige smirked, enjoying this way too much. “Why you being like that, baby? I thought you missed me?”

Azzi exhaled, her hands clenching briefly at her sides, but she kept moving.

Paige trailed behind her grinning. “Mmm. What happened to all that talk in the car?”

Just as she reached the bedroom door, Azzi stopped. She turned her head slightly, finally meeting Paige’s gaze.

Paige smirked at that, stepping into the bedroom with an easy confidence. Azzi followed closely behind, her eyes immediately catching on something new.

“When’d you get that?” Azzi asked, nodding toward the large mirror now positioned perfectly in the room.

Paige’s smile grew, as she leaned casually against the dresser. “Got here yesterday.”

Azzi hummed, her gaze flicking between the mirror and the bed, taking in the angle, mentally mapping it out. Her lips curved slightly. “I like it.”

Paige pushed off the dresser, stepping closer until she was right in front of Azzi, tilting her chin up.

“That’s why I got it.”

Azzi rolled her eyes and tried to walk away again, but Paige was quicker, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back with little effort.

"Stop being a brat.”

Azzi just looked at her, lips pressed together, refusing to respond. Paige wasn’t fazed. Instead, she tugged her closer by the waist, dipping her head to press a kiss to Azzi’s neck.

"Let me get rid of that attitude for you," Paige whispered, her lips dragging against Azzi’s skin.

For a moment, Azzi’s resolve wavered. Her breath caught, and she instinctively tilted her head to the side, granting Paige more access. But just as quickly, she remembered why she was mad. With a sharp exhale, she planted her hands on Paige’s shoulders and shoved her back—not hard enough to truly push her away, but enough to make a point.

Paige only laughed, her tongue brushing over her bottom lip as she grinned. "Oh, you’re really mad, huh?"

“Yes you called me desperate.”

Paige’s jaw dropped. “Bro, no I didn’t.”

Azzi’s glare was instant. “Don’t ‘bro’ me.”

Paige sighed, pulling Azzi closer again, her hands resting firmly on her waist. “Baby, I did not call you desperate.”

Azzi didn’t budge. “You basically did.”

Paige huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head before dipping down to press slow, open-mouthed kisses against Azzi’s neck. “I didn’t,” she muttered between kisses. “But even if I did, it doesn’t matter.” Her lips traveled lower. “You know I love it when you’re like that for me.”

Azzi’s breath hitched, her body betraying her as her head tilted again, granting Paige more access. But she didn’t fully give in—her hands remained stubbornly at her sides, her posture still carrying the weight of her petty grudge.

Paige smirked against her skin, nipping just lightly before pulling back. “What I gotta do to make it up to you, baby?”

Azzi’s lips finally formed a smile at that, looking at her. “I wanna go back to the car.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “We have a whole house, baby. Why you wanna go to the car?”

Azzi shrugged, but there was a glint in her eyes. “Because we haven’t fucked in your new car yet.” She let that sink in before adding casually, “And it’s bigger than your Jeep.”

Paige scoffed, about to respond when Azzi leaned in close, her breath warm against her ear.

“And,” Azzi murmured, right before biting down softly on Paige’s earlobe, “you can’t run from me in the car.”

Paige swallowed hard, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief second as she licked her lips. She nodded—maybe a little too eagerly—before mumbling, “Okay… yeah, we can go to the car. Whatever you want.”

Azzi beamed at that, turning on her heel and heading toward the closet immediately. Paige watched her, smirking when she saw the first thing Azzi grabbed. But then her smirk dropped completely when she saw the second.

Her brow furrowed. “What’s that for?”

Azzi barely glanced at her as she responded, “You know what it’s for.”

Paige’s stomach tightened as she watched Azzi casually walk out of the bedroom, clearly expecting her to follow. She hesitated for a second before trailing behind her, saying, “I almost died last time we tried that.”

Azzi threw a smile over her shoulder. “Well, you shouldn’t have called me desperate.”

Paige groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “She’s about to kill me,” she mumbled under her breath, shaking her head as she followed Azzi out of the room, through the house, and straight into the garage.

Paige got in the car first pushing both front seats forward to create more space. She moved with ease, but there was still an underlying tension in her movements—anticipation low in her stomach as she adjusted the seats. Once she was satisfied, she leaned back, expecting Azzi to climb onto her lap like she always did.

But instead, Azzi leaned forward, connecting her phone to the car’s Bluetooth. Paige watched her, eyebrow raising slightly as Azzi scrolled through her playlists, carefully ensuring the engine wasn’t actually on before the speakers filled the car.

Paige exhaled through her nose, smirking as she rested her hands on her thighs. “You settin’ the mood or something?”

Azzi didn’t answer. She took her time, adjusting the volume, tilting her head as if she was testing how the music sounded in the space. Then, finally, she settled in the back seat, straddling Paige hips, her hands finding their place on Paige’s shoulders.

Paige’s smile grew as her hands settled on Azzi’s waist. “That a yes?” she teased.

Azzi smiled, leaning in so her lips just barely brushed Paige’s. “Stop talking.”

Paige nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, ma’am.”

Azzi didn’t give her a chance to add anything else before she closed the distance, her lips molding against Paige’s in a kiss that she led with confidence. Her tongue slipped past Paige’s lips, exploring her mouth like she owned it, and Paige let her—let her take, let her have, let her do whatever she wanted.

Paige’s hands found Azzi’s butt, pulling her in until there was nothing between them, her fingers flexing underneath Azzi’s skirt.

It was always a miracle how long they could stay like this—kissing and learning each other over and over again—until their lips were almost raw and they were both burning from the inside out.

Paige was completely under Azzi’s control, gripping her like she was afraid to let go, as Azzi’s hand wrapped securely around her neck. Every time Paige tried to shift, to gain a little more, Azzi only tightened her grip, keeping her where she wanted.

When Paige finally broke away from the kiss, her breathing was uneven and her lips were tingling. “Baby, please.”

Azzi looked down at her. “Please what?”

Paige groaned, her hands sliding up Azzi’s back in frustration. “I need something.”

Azzi hummed, tilting her head as if she was considering it . “Mm.” She leaned in, brushing her lips over Paige’s jawline before trailing down to her neck.

Azzi smiled, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of Paige’s neck, tugging just enough to make Paige suck in a breath. She moved up, her lips barely grazing the shell of Paige’s ear as she whispered, “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Paige let out a shaky exhale, her fingers flexing against Azzi’s thighs before she murmured, “That’s the problem, baby.”

She tried to slide her hands up, reaching for the hem of Azzi’s skirt, but before she could make contact, Azzi caught her wrists, intertwining their fingers as she pinned them down. “I didn’t say you could do that.”

Paige sighed, tightening her jaw as she let her head fall back against the seat in surrender. She was burning with impatience, but she knew better than to fight Azzi on this—not when she was playing her little game.

Azzi took full advantage of the position, tilting her head to press slow, open-mouthed kisses down the side of Paige’s throat, occasionally nipping at her skin just to feel the way Paige shuddered beneath her. Paige sighed heavily, groaning here and there, murmuring pleas in between sharp intakes of breath. But every time she tried to coax Azzi into more, Azzi only chuckled against her skin, whispering smug remarks in return.

“You getting desperate, baby?”

Paige groaned. “Azzi—”

Azzi licked a long trail up her neck. “Mmm. You’re cute when you beg P.”

Paige scoffed. “I’m not begging.”

Azzi pulled back slightly, tilting her head. Then she smirked. “You don’t want me?”

Paige swallowed hard, her hands twitching where Azzi still had them pinned. “Course I do.”

Azzi hummed in satisfaction before whispering, “Then beg for it.” She bit down a little harsher this time, drawing a sharp inhale from Paige before soothing the spot with her tongue.

Paige held firm, refusing to give in so easily. She just let Azzi work her way along her neck knowing exactly how to unravel her. But Azzi knew this little front of Paige’s all too well. Knew the stubbornness. Knew exactly how to break it.

So she shifted, pressing her hips down just a little more, her breath fanning against Paige’s ear as she let out the softest moan.

Just like that, Paige cracked. “Fuck—Az, please, baby.”

Azzi smiled. “Please what, Paige?”

Paige groaned, her voice rough. “Lemme get you right.”

Azzi chuckled at that, pulling back just enough to meet Paige’s gaze. “Oh? Is that what’s gonna happen?”

Paige only hummed in response, her hands finally breaking free to palm at Azzi’s butt, pulling her in closer.

Azzi just smiled down at Paige as her fingers worked at the buckle of Paige’s belt, taking her time, teasing her without any words. Paige just watched her, eyes hooded, a small grin tugging at her lips.

Azzi caught the expression and arched her eyebrow. “What are you smiling at?”

Paige exhaled a soft chuckle, tilting her head back slightly against the seat. “You look good.”

Azzi hummed at that, feigning nonchalance, but the way her lips curled told a different story. “Yeah?”

Paige’s eyes flicked between Azzi’s hands and her face, her grin widening just a little. “Yeah. Real good.”

Azzi shook her head, amused, but didn’t argue.

Once Paige’s belt was undone, Azzi slipped off her lap simply saying, “Take off your clothes,” as she began to unzip her own skirt.

Paige immediately obliges, tugging at her clothes, ripping them off as if they were on fire. Once they were off, she reaches for the harness silently praying Azzi doesn’t remember what else she grabbed.

Azzi chuckles at this, reaching over Paige to grab the small vibrator she had sitting there. She looks at Paige expectantly, not saying anything as she pushes it toward her.

Paige sighs as she takes it from Azzi’s hand and slides the vibrator into the slits of the harness, turning it on before she pulls the harness against herself, taking a sharp breath immediately at the feeling.

Once Paige was situated Azzi climbed back onto her lap, settling on her thighs first as she gathered her long braids, moving them to one side. Paige watched her, eyes hazy, the desire in her eyes unmistakable.

“Nah,” Paige murmured, voice rough. “You need to get on it now.”

Azzi chuckled softly, dragging the moment out just a little longer before she lifts her hips up and eases herself on top of Paige slowly, letting out a quiet sigh as she did.

Paige’s reaction was instant. Her head fell back against the seat, a deep groan escaping her lips. “Fuck baby,” she breathed, arms lifting to rest on the back of the headrests, fingers flexing as she tried to keep herself from reaching for Azzi knowing she wouldn’t last long if she did.

Azzi kept her eyes locked on Paige as she rolled her hips moving like she was putting on a performance just for her. A teasing smile on her lips as she watched Paige try not to unravel beneath her.

Paige’s head was still thrown back against the seat, arms stretched over the headrest like she was watching a show—but the longer Azzi moved, the harder it became for her to keep up the act. Her jaw tightened, eyes fluttering closed as she swallowed hard.

Azzi smirked at that. She leaned forward, grabbing Paige’s arms from the headrest and guiding them around her waist, forcing Paige to hold her. As soon as Paige’s hands found their place on Azzi’s hips, Azzi tangled her fingers into Paige’s hair, tugging gently as she whispered near her ear, “You’re supposed to be watching, baby.”

A low moan escaped Paige’s lips. “I can’t, baby.”

Azzi hummed in amusement, her movements never faltering as her own breath got a little uneven. “Why not?”

Paige sucked in a breath, struggling for words. “Because…”

Azzi chuckled, her breath warm against Paige’s ear. “That’s not a full sentence,” she teased, letting a soft gasp slip as she pressed herself closer.

Paige groaned, tightening her grip on Azzi’s waist as she felt the deliberate push against her. Azzi pulled back slightly, her fingers grazing the hem of Paige’s jersey she had on, lifting it just enough to make Paige’s breath hitch. The slow, torturous pace was getting to her.

Paige was never one to let Azzi have all the control. Wanting to turn the tide in her favor a little, she lifted her hips into her, just enough to catch Azzi off guard. Azzi let out a sharp moan, her eyes fluttering closed as the movement sent a jolt through her.

Mmm, what happened, baby?” Paige purred, her voice dripping with amusement as she tilted her head, watching Azzi’s every move. Her hands slid down to Azzi’s ass, fingers tightening as she pulled her even closer, grinding against her slowly. “Getting a little lost, huh?”

Azzi’s breath hitched, her hands gripping Paige’s arms for leverage. “Probably you more than me.”

Paige’s grin widened as she felt Azzi’s breath stutter, the slight hesitation before she recovered. “Mmm, I don’t think so baby,�� Paige whispered as she lifted Azzi’s hips completely before pushing them back down.

Azzi’s jaw tightened, refusing to let Paige see just how much she was getting to her. Instead, she retaliated, rolling her hips, pressing down against Paige in a way that forced a sharp inhale from her lips.

The smirks on both of their faces never fell as they pushed and pulled, challenging each other for dominance. Paige’s fingers dug into Azzi’s hips as she tried to hold her still, but Azzi countered by shifting forward, her hands sliding up Paige’s arms before pressing into her shoulders for leverage.

Neither wanted to give in, their bodies moving in sync as they played their little game—one teasing, the other taunting, both determined to win. Little sounds slipped from their lips, unintentional reactions to the tension between them, to the way their control over the situation teetered with every movement.

Azzi leaned in, her lips hovering over Paige’s, their heavy breaths mingling. “You sure you’re winning this one, baby?” she taunted, her voice just barely above a whisper.

Paige swallowed, as she smirked. “You’re not.”

Azzi, not liking that, rolled her hips down again, watching as Paige’s head fell back against the seat, her fingers tightening around Azzi’s waist. Paige sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, trying to hold on to her composure, but Azzi caught the way her body twitched under her.

Paige recovered quickly, exhaling sharply as she dragged her hands up Azzi’s back.

She flipped their positions pressing Azzi back against the seat, her hands pinning Azzi’s wrists on either side of her head. Azzi’s eyes widened in surprise before she let out a soft chuckle, biting her lip as she looked up at Paige before pulling her in for a kiss.

Paige groaned against Azzi’s lips, her fingers gripping at the jersey, bunching the fabric in her fists as she deepened the kiss. Azzi hummed into her mouth, pulling Paige closer, her hands sliding up Paige’s back before tangling in her hair. The kiss was messy, all tongue neither of them holding back as they pushed and pulled at each other, fighting for control even now.

Paige nipped at Azzi’s bottom lip, pulling away just enough to murmur, “You look so fucking good in this, baby.” Her voice was thick, her eyes heavy as she tugged at the jersey again.

Azzi smirked against her lips, tilting her head slightly. “Yeah? You like it?” she teased, running her hands down Paige’s back before gripping her waist, and flipping their positions back. Paige barely had time to react before she found herself against the seat again, Azzi now on top, straddling her once smirk again.

Paige's grip tightened instantly, her fingers digging into Azzi’s skin as her head fell back against the seat. “Fuck, I can’t, baby,” she groaned, her voice strained, eyes squeezed shut as she tried to hold on. “I’m close.”

Azzi, still in full control, shook her head. “No,” she murmured. “Not yet.”

Paige let out a desperate sound, her hands gripping harder as her breath came out in uneven pants. “I—I can’t control it, mama,” she admitted, her voice breaking slightly as she fought against the overwhelming feeling.

Azzi hummed in response, bringing Paige’s hands up to place them firmly on her chest under the jersey. “Yes, you can,” she whispered, pressing her forehead against Paige’s, their breaths mingling. Paige whimpered, eyes fluttering open just enough to meet Azzi’s gaze.

Azzi smirked, tilting her head as she kept her rhythm steady, teasing, pushing, and pulling Paige right to the edge but never letting her tip over. “I want you to hold it for me,” she mumbled against Paige’s lips, her fingers sliding into Paige’s hair.

Paige's jaw clenched as she let out a shaky breath, her entire body tense beneath Azzi. Her hands trembled slightly as she squeezed Azzi’s hips, desperately trying to focus, to obey, even though every fiber of her being wanted to let go. “Fuck I can’t,” she groaned, voice hoarse. “You’re killing me, baby.”

Azzi chuckled, pressing a kiss to Paige’s jaw. “No, I’m making you feel good.”

Paige’s grip faltered as she instinctively moved her hands away from Azzi’s waist, gripping the leather seats beside her in a desperate attempt to ground herself. But Azzi wasn’t having it. She grabbed Paige’s hands, guiding them right back to her hips.

Paige let out a shaky breath, her body tensing beneath Azzi’s as she struggled to maintain even a sliver of control. But Azzi knew exactly what she was doing—exactly how to unravel her.

Pressing soft, lingering kisses along Paige’s neck, Azzi hummed against her skin. “Why do you keep moving your hands, baby?” she whispered, her voice low, teasing.

Paige swallowed hard, her fingers twitching against Azzi’s waist. “I—I don’t know,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

Azzi smirked, kissing just below Paige’s ear. “Mmm. You don’t know?” she murmured, trailing her lips lower as her fingers traced slow circles against Paige’s wrist. “You always get like this when I take my time.”

Paige let out a frustrated groan, her fingers gripping Azzi’s hips even tighter. “Az..Fuck—Az please,” she breathed, her head falling back.

Azzi chuckled, running her fingers through Paige’s hair before gently tugging. “Did you like my outfit today?” she asked.

Paige let out a shuddering breath, her fingers flexing against Azzi’s waist. “What?”

Azzi kissed along her jaw, her teeth biting against the sensitive skin. “I saw you looking all night,” she continued, her tone light. “You think I wore it just because?”

Paige squeezed her eyes shut, her body reacting before she could even think of a response. Azzi was relentless—and completely in control.

“Tell me,” Azzi whispered, biting lightly at Paige’s ear. “Did you like it baby?”

Paige’s breath hitched, her hands gripping Azzi’s waist harder as she struggled beneath her, the tension in her stomach pulling with every word. “You know I did,” she admitted, her voice nearly breaking.

Azzi hummed in satisfaction, kissing down Paige’s neck again. “Good.”

Paige’s entire body was taut beneath Azzi, every muscle locked as she tried—desperately—to hold on. But Azzi kept dragging out every second.

“I’m close baby,” Azzi whispered, her voice strained, her hips still moving in perfect rhythm.

Paige groaned, her grip on Azzi’s waist bruising as she fought to keep herself together, her breathing ragged. “Baby, please,” she gasped, eyes fluttering shut, her resolve hanging by a thread.

Azzi leaned in, capturing Paige’s lips in a kiss that stole the last of her restraint. It was deep and possessive, sending a sharp, overwhelming heat rushing through Paige’s body.

That was all it took. Paige tensed beneath her, a strangled moan leaving her lips as she completely unraveled, her hands gripping Azzi like she was the only thing keeping her tethered to reality as her body started to shake.

But Azzi didn’t stop.

Even as Paige trembled beneath her, trying to catch her breath, trying to get Azzi to slow down, she kept moving—dragging her lips along Paige’s jaw, whimpering softly in her ear as she chased her own release.

Paige whined, her hands sliding from Azzi’s waist to her thighs in an attempt to stop her movements . Saying desperately, “Az, baby it’s too much. I can’t—”

Paige barely had time to finish her sentence before Azzi’s lips were on hers again, swallowing every whimper and shaky breath. Azzi kissed her deep, desperate, as if she was chasing something only Paige could give her.

Within seconds, Azzi’s body tensed on top of Paige, her grip tightening in Paige’s hair as she gasped into the kiss. Paige felt it—the way Azzi’s body shuddered, the way her fingers curled into her scalp, the way she bit down on Paige’s bottom lip to stifle the sound that threatened to escape.

Paige groaned into the kiss, overwhelmed by how good Azzi felt against her, by the way Azzi clung to her like she never wanted to let go. She held her close, letting her ride it out despite the tension rapidly growing in her stomach again as she pressed soothing kisses against her jaw as Azzi's breathing came in soft, uneven pants.

“Damn, baby,” Paige murmured, her voice rough, her hands still gripping Azzi’s waist like she needed something to ground herself.

Azzi let out a breathy chuckle, her forehead resting against Paige’s as she tried to collect herself. “Told you I wasn’t desperate,” she whispered, a smirk pulling at her lips despite how dazed she looked.

Not being able to take anymore Paige pushed Azzi off of her as she struggled to pull the vibrator off of her. Azzi chuckled as she watched Paige struggle, her chest still rising and falling unevenly. She leaned back against the seat, completely unbothered, while Paige ran a hand down her face, trying to collect herself.

But Paige wasn’t having it. With a huffed breath, she reached for the door handle, muttering, “We’re going upstairs.”

Azzi smirked, tilting her head as she reached for her skirt thrown on the seat. “Yeah?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

Paige shot her a look, jaw tight, eyes still clouded. “Yeah,” she confirmed. “Now.”

Azzi hummed, pushing the car door open as she stepped out, stretching her arms lazily as if she wasn’t still feeling everything that just happened. As Paige moved to follow, Azzi turned back, biting her lip before murmuring, “I’ll be by the mirror baby.”

Paige turned off the car, taking a deep breath to steady herself before stepping out.

Azzi was already heading inside, her skirt discarded on the floor, leaving her still in nothing but that damn jersey that barely covered anything as she made her way upstairs. She didn’t even look back—just walked with an effortless sway that had Paige gripping the door frame for a second longer than necessary.

Paige smirked, licking her lips as she shut the door behind her. “I’m about to fuck her up,” she muttered to herself, rolling her shoulders back in confidence.

She followed Azzi up the stairs, her cocky smirk only growing as she shut the bedroom door.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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talaok · 9 months ago

Text

Acting Normal

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Summary: Javi’s been thinking about that night every minute of every day, while you're acting like it never even happened, and if he doesn't do something about it, he's gonna lose his mind.

warnings: smut| fingering, protected p in v sex, dirty talk, javi being a simp, sex in the workplace, (it's not public but there's a possibility of getting caught)

a/n: I already know what to write for part 3, this couple is my new obsession lol

This is a part 2 to this story, but it can be read alone

Javi

This was really important stuff

He was really supposed to be listening

He was paid to listen to it,

that's what he kept repeating himself,

and yet- yet if someone asked him to repeat whatever Carillo was saying, he couldn't have spit out one singular word.

But it wasn't his fault, not really.

You must have been doing it on purpose, there was no way you were doing all that just accidentally.

Your lips were wrapped around the lollipop in a way that left nothing to the imagination- he could feel those lips on him, he knew how soft and sweet they were from kissing them, but around him... oh they would feel even sweeter, he was sure-

"If you're not gonna listen to me then why am I even here?"

It took Javier much too long to realize what Carillo had said

"I'm listening" he stated with enough confidence to fool anyone- except he was talking to one of the few people that could see right through his bullshit.

"I'm surprised you haven't done it yet" the Colonel shook his head, blowing out a cloud of smoke "I thought she would have given in by now"

"I don't know what you're talking about"

Carillo couldn't help but laugh.

"You've been obsessed with her since she first arrived"

Javier hadn't even noticed that his gaze was back on you... or that his colleague had spoken again.

"yeah," Carillo chuckled, patting Javi's back "I'll just talk to Murphy"

And that was that, Carillo was gone, and Peña was left at a desk at the corner of the room, staring at you with the intensity with which a lion watches a gazelle.

He didn't know what the fuck to do.

To be completely honest with himself, he'd made a fucking mess.

He'd always been attracted to you, I mean there's not much of you that any man could find not hot, and sure, he'd spent about a year flirting with you as you rolled your eyes at him... but that's just how he was- he never thought it'd ever actually happen- and now...

Now he was fucked

You seemed so incredibly normal around him, like that night a week ago had been just a perfect dream, while him- fuck he couldn't even look at you without picturing how perfect you looked from between your tighs.

He'd thought he could manage to just do it that one time, to get it out of his system... what a stupid fucking bastard- he'd only made everything ten times worse.

And the worst part was that you didn't seem affected by it, not even a little bit- like now, there you were, looking all concentrated and everything, your brows furrowed, your bare legs crossed, one of them swinging ever so often, and your lips... your lips wrapped around the candy were an image sent straight from heaven.

Fuck- he was half fucking hard just by looking at you.

He needed to do something- now- or he was gonna go fucking crazy.

__ __ __

"can I have a talk with you for a moment?"

He was leaning over your desk, not doing a great job of masking his desire.

You, on the other hand, hadn't even looked up from the paper before you.

"what's up?"

what's up?

He'd made you squirt on your boss' desk for fuck's sake, and you tell him what's up??

"Just something I think you could help me out with, in the evidence room"

"now?" you winced, finally looking at him

"Yeah now"

__ __ __

"so what is it? did they misplace a file again-"

"How are you acting so normal?"

A gasp fled your mouth as you turned around and found him but an inch from you

"Jesus" you breathed "what are you talking about?"

"and who even eats lollipops past the age of five?"

He took a step closer and you took a step back, only for your back to hit the wall.

He'd cornered you.

"what is going on with you?" you hissed, only for him to take another slow step, and place his hand on the wall, right next to your head

"you, that's what's going on with me" his breath was fanning over your mouth, images of last week's night flashing both your minds "I've had the best sex of my life with you, and you're acting like it was just another Tuesday night"

"I-"

"I can still taste you on my tongue, I can still feel you around me, and you look at me like I'm nothing more than a fucking colleague y/n"

"Javier-"

"And then" he chuckled darkly, interrupting you once again "and then you have the nerve to suck on a fucking lollipop right in front me-"

A soft laugh couldn't help but bubble up your throat at that.

"Did that seriously... turn you on?"

"So what if it did?" he purred, his left hand finding your waist and forcing you off the wall and flush against him, against the blatant proof of his arousal.

You gasped, your hands clutching the shirt covering his chest.

"you're worse than a hormonal teenager"

His eyes sparked with malice as he bent down, his mouth skimming your mouth and cheeks, leaving shivers in his passage, until he pressed his lips right below your ear.

"A hormonal teen that made you squirt for the first time in your life"

"Javier-" your voice had already reduced to a thread of a whimper.

Fuck him and his irresistible sex appeal.

He was right, no one had ever made you feel as good as he had, and as much as he thought you weren't affected by that knowledge, he'd be shocked to find out how difficult it proved not to squirm every time he merely looked at you.

Yes, of course you were constantly thinking about that night too.

"Tell me you don't think about it"

He was like a mind reader

You stayed silent, conscious that any response you could give would inevitably give you away.

"That's what I thought" A snicker rumbled from his chest, his hand moving from your waist to slide underneath the hem of your skirt.

You hummed, your brain only half functioning as he continued to trail hot wet kisses down your throat.

"W-what are you doing?" you tried to speak normally without success.

"what does it look like I'm doing?" he smirked, his hand now fully cupping your clothed core, making you whine "What I've been thinking of doing for a whole damn week- so I don't lose my mind"

Two of his fingers were circling the wet spot on your panties when a phone rang from the other room, making your eyes snap open.

What the fuck were you doing?

You were at work- anyone could come in at any moment.

"Javier wait," you said, finally getting your voice back to normal.

"what is it, sweetheart?" from the way his eyes were still a thousand shades darker and blatantly staring at your mouth you could have guessed the danger of being caught didn't trouble him one bit.

"We can't"

He groaned frustratedly then, his head falling between your neck and shoulder

"why not sweetheart?"

"are you serious?" a quick laugh bubbled up your throat "we're at work"

"so?"

"so?" you parroted, only your voice was heightening with exasperation "so anyone could catch us at any given moment"

A soft smirk pulled at his lips, the hand that was still on your wall going to your waist to get you flush against him

"Are you ashamed of me sweetheart?" he teased

"Well, to be completely honest having sex with the biggest slut in Columbia isn't exactly my highest moment"

He feigned a gasp, his hot breath fanning over your own parted mouth

"Me? A slut?"

"yeah, you" You couldn't fight the smile pulling at your lips.

There he was, doing it again- making all your common sense fly out the window with his godforsaken charm.

"c'mon baby, I'll be quick"

And although you didn't want to, you could see yourself starting to consider his proposal.

"that's supposed to convince me?" you arched a brow, an amused smile pulling at your lips

"What, you think I can't make you come quickly?" he purred, his hand going to your ass in a swift move to grab at it.

You bit down a whine "Well I don't know"

"tell me you don't want it" he teased, the fingers on your core starting a torturous path up and down your still-clothed, but unbelievably drenched, slit "That you don't want this"

His fingers had trespassed your panties and had now found your raw skin, making you gasp

"anyone could come in us, including Messina" you added breathlessly

"I locked the door" he promised, his forehead on yours as his ring and middle finger gently found their way inside of you.

"a-and what if someone needs to get in?" you tried your best not to moan, but the way he curled his fingers made it so very fucking difficult

"then we'll tell them to fuck off" he murmured, his mouth now touching yours, but still not kissing you.

"If we get caught I'm gonna kill you, we clear?"

"yes ma'am" he smirked, his breath mixing with yours

"now- may I kiss you, baby?"

You rolled your eyes before answering "Yes, you may"

And just like that, he was devouring you, his lips crashing with yours and his tongue sliding into your mouth to explore every inch of it, gaining dominance on your own in a matter of seconds.

"fuck I missed this" he groaned, his fingers suddenly speeding up and robbing you of all ability to tease him about his words "these fucking lips are gonna be the death of me"

Your mouth was open as you desperately tried to get oxygen to your lungs, but he didn't care, he took your bottom lip into his mouth and started sucking, his fingers fastening their pace as the filthy sound of your wetness bounced off the walls of the room.

"tell me you thought about it too" he growled, his palm making contact with your clit and forcing you to gasp as your hips started grinding onto it, onto his hand, sparks of pleasure staining your vision. "tell me I'm not the only crazy one baby"

You bit your lip to stifle a moan as you felt yourself grow closer to a release.

"shit- you look so fucking hot when you're about to come"

"I-" your eyes were squeezed shut, but you could feel the heat of his stare on you, the way his eyes never left you, not even as he kissed your neck, the soft stubble of his mustache tickling your skin "I've thought about it too javi"

The satisfied groan he let out told you just about everything you needed to know.

"When?" he asked, his voice hoarse, his fingers relentless

"A-always" you whimpered, "e-everytime I look at you"

shit- maybe you shouldn't have said that

"yeah?" a wolfish grin tugged at his lips "You think about me? about my cock? my fingers? my tongue?"

You mewled at his words, at the memory they brought with them, at how fucking good he was making you feel-

"J-Javi please"

"what?" he breathed, his mouth on yours again, your hips grinding shamelessly onto his hand "You're gonna come baby, 's that it?"

"y-yeah- fuck- I-"

he knew the signs by now, he knew those desperate breathless sounds you made just as you reached your peak- and god did he fucking love them

"come for me- come baby" he murmured, his lips crushing with yours to stifle your moans just as your walls spasmed around his digits- wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

Oh how he loved seeing the strong fiery woman he saw every day come apart beneath him, all your walls crumbling down 'till there was just pure lust and pleasure beneath your eyes, 'till your body went limp and clung to him for support.

"fuck" you breathed your eyes finally opening again, only to find that his had never left yours. "I-" you gulped, but his lips were on yours again, his hands holding your face on each side, his fingers now out of you.

"w-we should get back," you said, mostly trying to remind yourself, of where you really were, of what you were really doing... but it was all so difficult when he was looking at you like that- when you could feel his hard cock straining against his jeans- the same one that had felt so fucking good inside of you.

"we should" he agreed, although a twisted grin played on his lips.

he was already kissing you again, exploring you again, and in no time you found yourself caged between him and a shelf filled with boxes of evidence, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck.

Damn him

"People are gonna start wondering where we are"

"we're here... looking at evidence," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his hips grinding onto you, his mouth on the corner of your lips.

"fuck- fine," you murmured, the need for him stronger than anything at this point, even than the fear of getting fired.

He didn't waste a second- his dick was out in a heartbeat, and your panties were pulled to the side before you had even time to breathe.

His tip, his red, glistening tip found your entrance, making you gasp.

"c-condom" you suddenly remembered, your voice so feeble it was almost inaudible "Please tell me you've got a condom"

"fuck- you're right" he muttered, frustration tracing his tone "I should have one in my wallet"

Of course he had one in his wallet

His left hand reached into his back pocket, finding his wallet and taking the condom out of it as quickly as he could, throwing the wallet somewhere to the side.

You were supporting yourself all on your own as he rolled the condom onto his dick, which might sound easy... but seeing the state of your leg it really was a miracle.

It was all so fast, he seemed desperate as he guided his tip to your entrance, as he gripped your waist and kissed your lips while entering you.

He was so fucking big, definitely the biggest one you'd ever encountered, and not only that... but he fucking knew how to use it too.

It was impossible not to moan, and for him, it was impossible not to groan- let's just say the possibility of getting caught wasn't first on the list of things in your mind at the moment.

"fuckfuckfuck" you whimpered, letting out a soft cry when he finally bottomed out

"Jesus Christ you feel fucking perfect" he growled, his eyes on yours, his hands gripping your waist as he tried his best to give you a moment to adjust and not start to fuck you like an animal right away.

"J-Javi"

And that, that little plead in your voice was all he needed to hear.

There was no way the sound of your skin slapping with his couldn't be heard from outside.

He felt so fucking good- criminally so.

"oh my g-" you had to bite down on something, and the little sliver of skin his shirt didn't cover right where his shoulder met his neck seemed much too perfect for your need.

He groaned, the bastard fucking groaned in pleasure as your teeth sank down into his skin, and you swore to god you could have come from that sound alone.

Your hands were laced between his neck, fingers taking hold of whatever hair you could grab, as he thrust up into you like a man starved, and you did all you could to meet his movements with the same urgency.

It had only been a week, and yet it felt like it'd been an eternity- a torturous, awful eternity of daying yourself of this.

"been thinking about this every fucking minute this week" his voice was breathy, hoarse, as he whispered to your ear "about this perfect fucking pussy of yours- about your mouth, about how- Fuck me-" his own growl interrupted him, your walls were squeezing him much too fucking tight "how good you taste, how hot you look when I'm eating you out- about this fucking perfect body of yours" he purred "Jesus christ you make me lose my mind"

You couldn't help but moan, moan at his words, at his pace, at the way his touch sent sparks flying in your belly- it was all too much.

"You've gotta be quiet baby" he murmured as you raised your head to look at him, to beg him for something- anything.

"I know sweetheart, I know" he breathed, his lips skimming yours "I know issa lot"

And to think you couldn't even stand him seven days ago... look at you now- looking into his eyes pleadingly as he fucked you in the evidence room.

"Javi" you could only breathe as his mouth crashed with yours once again, "I'm gonna-"

"I know"

Of course he knew

And just like that, you were over the edge, his tongue in your mouth muffling your cries as his thrust got more erratic, and somehow even more powerful.

Once again, he'd given you the best orgasm of your life.

He tried to hold off to let you ride it out, but fuck him it was proving to be real fucking difficult.

And then you opened your eyes- your beautiful, dreamy, eyes that he'd been dreaming of for days and there was no point in fighting it anymore-

"F-fuck y/n- fuck-"

There was a loud thud somewhere behind you, but neither of you cared enough to look, or god forbid stop- there was only you, you, and the spectacular groan Javier fed you into a kiss as he finally reached his climax.

There was only the sound of your breathing, both your heavy breathings as you looked at each other- and then you smiled, and he couldn't help but do the same.

And then all of the sudden the sounds from the office started flowing into the room again.

Oh right

"we really have to get back"

"yeah" he halfheartedly agreed, slowly setting you back on your feet, only in doing so, something caught your eye.

"fuck"

There were files on the floor- there were files on the floor because you'd knocked down some of the boxes of evidence- and you hadn't even noticed.

Javier followed your line of sight, but while panic was setting in your heart, he began to smile

"don't laugh!" you hissed, "what the fuck do we do? How do we explain this?"

"we don't" he simply shrugged, closing his zipper back up as you quickly tried to make yourself presentable.

"What?"

"we were never here- now, get back out there"

"I-"

"trust me" he said, retrieving his wallet from the floor.

And for some fucking reason, you did- you trusted him.

"I hate you so much" you muttered, finally exiting the room.

Tg:@fallout-girl219

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