#so it makes sense that some of that was for this! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

girlgenius1111 · 3 days

Text

behave

ingrid leaves for 2 weeks for national duty. sol and mapi try to stay out of trouble and fill the time. they are successful at one of those two objectives. some medical trauma discussed.

-------

“And I have an extra one of her inhalers, in the medicine cabinet in our bathroom. She hasn’t had an asthma attack in a while but-”

“-But just in case, Solstråle has one in her backpack, and you have one in the medicine cabinet. Ingrid, relax. It’s going to be fine. You’ve left the two of us before.”

“I know, but this time it's for longer, and she’s still not really herself. So many things have happened and I’m so worried,” the Norwegian rambled. It had only been a few weeks since everything had happened, and you were doing better. You were adjusting. Ingrid still didn’t really want you out of her sight, but she was due at the airport to fly back to Norway for the international break. She’d already said goodbye to you back at the house, and now she was very anxiously trying to give Mapi some words of advice before she had to go. It wasn’t the first time she’d left you with Mapi to play for Norway, but it was the first time since your mental health had really declined, since Ingrid became aware of how hard of a time you were having.

“Ingrid, amor, I know. I will take good care of her. Do you trust me?” Mapi said calmly, squeezing one of Ingrid’s hands.

“Of course, María, I’m sorry, of course I trust you. It’s just… keep an eye on her? Please?” Ingrid’s worry bled through her tone, eyes pleading with Mapi to agree to her request.

“I promise, Ingrid. We’ll be completely fine. And if we aren’t, I’ll call you.”

“Okay.” Ingrid said quietly.

“Alright. Fly safe, mi amor. I love you.” Mapi said, pulling Ingrid into a hug. Her girlfriend clung to her, and Mapi rubbed her back softly, trying to provide some comfort.

“I love you too.” Ingrid whispered, pulling back to leave a sweet kiss on her girlfriend’s lips, before turning and walking into the airport.

Mapi sighed, a bit relieved because she honestly wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be returning home with Ingrid after a failed airport drop off. The Norwegian had been increasingly anxious about you in recent weeks, and Mapi knew that leaving you, now, felt like she was failing you as a sister, and as a guardian. She also knew, however, that she had the situation handled. You were comfortable with Mapi, and she was confident in her abilities to keep an eye on you, and make sure you were doing okay.

She understood Ingrid’s anxiety. The Norwegian had always been a person who needed to feel control. Leaving her very vulnerable sister behind while she went off to play football for two weeks would certainly not give Ingrid the sense of control she craved in every situation that scared her.

Ingrid had gone, though. Entered the airport, gotten on the plane. And now it was time for Mapi to get back home to you, and begin the 2 weeks of fun she had planned.

------

Mapi wanted to bond with you, in a way that didn’t involve heavy emotions and tears being spilled. She wanted to do something fun that you enjoyed. Even if it wasn’t something that she necessarily wouldn’t have chosen. When you enthusiastically suggested that you both go to your rock climbing gym, she’d agreed easily. How hard could it be? She was a professional athlete. She was fit and strong, and she knew she could do it. She’d checked with the trainers at Barça, and she’d been cleared for the activity. An important piece of information that she’d forgotten, however, was that she wasn’t the biggest fan of heights.

Well, it wasn’t that she forgot. It was more that she just didn’t think it would be an issue. Her fear of heights had decreased significantly in recent years. She went on hikes often up tall hills and mountains, and was barely bothered. She didn’t stop to consider that being tied to a wall and climbing to the top with very little support would be harder.

It was easy to get on the helmet, the harness, and all the gear. It was adorable to watch you expertly tie the knots to her carabiner, very nonchalantly, though Mapi could tell you wanted to impress her. It was fun to learn all the silly little commands she was supposed to shout. It was fun that you knew all the right pointers to tell her, easily getting her going up the wall. It was even fun climbing; it took a specific muscle strength that was slightly different than the one she possessed, and it was just difficult enough to present a challenge, without being overwhelmingly difficult.

As she got higher up, though, she became more and more aware that the only thing between her and falling a very significant distance to the ground was a rope and a self belaying machine. She kept herself calm, though, until she got to the top of the wall. She allowed herself a small smile, glancing down at where you were cheering for her.

That was her mistake. The ground was so far away. And once she started to panic she couldn’t really stop.

You were yelling instructions up to her, ones she could barely hear.“Okay, like I told you. Flip the hand brake to the other side, and let the slack of the rope slide through your hand.”

“NO!” Mapi shouted, surprising even herself with the volume of her voice. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t? Is it stuck?” You replied. It didn’t even occur to you that Mapi might be scared. She was Mapi. She was fearless and confident and she was brave for you when you weren’t sure you could be.

“No, Sol, I can’t. I can’t.” Mapi said again, and you were floored to hear her start to get choked up. She had a white knuckle grip on the rope in one hand, holding tight to one of the handholds with the other. She looked like her whole body was trembling, and you floundered for a minute, entirely lost on what to do and how to help.

Though after thinking about it for another minute, the solution was clear. Ingrid could fix Mapi, just like Mapi could always fix Ingrid.

“Okay, Maps, hold on I’m gonna help you.” You shouted, seeing her nod weakly. There was no getting her down like this. You had to have some confidence in the equipment, and yourself, in order to repel down the wall, and Mapi clearly possessed confidence in neither of those things at the moment.

You grabbed your phone and called Ingrid. It went right to voicemail. You called again, waving off the worker who came up to ask if you needed help.

“I’m calling Ingrid, Mapi, just hang on.”

Ingrid didn’t answer for a second time. You dialed Caro’s number, one you had for emergencies, and she picked up on the first ring, no doubt concerned at the sight of your name on the caller ID.

“Hello?” Caro said.

“Caro, are you with Ingrid? Can you get her for me?”

“Uh… yeah. She’s in the gym, I’ll grab her. Is everything okay?”

“No, please hurry.”

It was unsettling to see Mapi this distraught, and you were absolutely flooded with guilt that you’d made her do this. She was clearly terrified and it was all your fault.

You heard some muffled voices over the phone before Ingrid’s absolutely panicked one came over the line.

“Solstråle? What is it?” She asked, beside herself with worry.

“Um. Mapi and I went to the climbing gym. And she made it to the top of the wall but now she’s… stuck.”

“Stuck? What do you mean stuck?”

“She’s too afraid to come down, I don’t know what to do.”

Ingrid fought off a smile. The mental image of Mapi stuck at the top of an indoor climbing wall, securely attached to a rope, a thick mat underneath her, in absolutely no danger at all, was comical, she couldn’t lie.

“Switch it to a video call.” She instructed, for no other reason than to get photographic evidence of this. Alexia would be getting a late birthday gift this year, in the form of this moment, framed.

You did as she asked, flipping the camera around to show Mapi up at the top of the wall. It was the shortest one in the place, and Ingrid had a very clear view of her girlfriend, holding onto the wall and the rope for dear life.

“Oh, María.” Ingrid chuckled, finding the whole situation very amusing. She took a screenshot, before you spoke and the situation became significantly less funny.

“Ingrid, I think she’s crying.” You murmured. That sobered up your sister pretty quickly. It was one thing for Mapi to be scared, and entirely another for her to be so terrified she was moved to tears. Ingrid very suddenly remembered Mapi’s fading fear of heights. Or, what was supposed to be a fading fear of heights.

“Shit. Can you get up there? With me in your pocket or something?”

You sounded almost cocky when you responded. “I could get up there with my eyes closed. It’s the easiest wall.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Okay, get me up to her.”

You did as your sister asked, attaching your harness to the ropes and getting the self belay machine all set, before you slipped your sister into your pocket, and climbed up the wall, at a speed that could only be described as a sprint. It took longer than it could have, because you went slightly diagonal, trying to get as close to Mapi as you could. When you reached her, she seemed completely spaced out, every muscle in her body tensed, a few tears on her cheeks.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, turned the volume up, and held it up so Mapi could see her girlfriend.

“María?” Ingrid said soothingly.

Mapi snapped back into herself, her head whipping around to look at the phone, and at you.

“Ingrid.” she said, relief clear in her voice.

“Hey. Are you scared?”

“No, I am staying up here for fun Ingrid.” Mapi snapped. Ingrid looked unimpressed, and Mapi mumbled an apology.

“Can you listen to what Sol tells you to do? And do it with her?”

“Isn’t there another way I can get down?” She asked in a quiet voice.

“Yeah, I can cut the rope and you’d drop right down.” You deadpanned. Mapi looked horrified at you, and you choked back a laugh.

“Solstråle, that is not nice!” Ingrid scolded. “María, my love, you are completely safe. You’re going to do what Sol says, and you’ll be back on the ground in a second, okay?”

“Okay.” Mapi agreed, glaring at you.

“See you in a sec Ingrid! If we make it down alive,” you added, tucking your sister back into your pocket before she could yell at you again.

When you spoke again, though, it was soft and encouraging, and Mapi knew that you were taking her fear seriously. It is one of those little signs that you loved her, too. You weren’t as good at saying it, having not heard it said to you for a lot of your life, but you showed it. When you’d squeeze her hand during a Barça game, knowing how hard it was for her to sit out. When you’d find a silly cat tiktok and send it to her, even though she knew you didn’t find whatever it was very funny. And now, when you talked her through the whole thing, assuring her that she’d be safe the whole time.

“It’s gonna be fine, Maps. Flip the handbrake off, and hold tight to the rope. You won’t go anywhere until you let yourself.”

Mapi found herself following your instructions without much thought. You just very clearly sounded like you knew what you were doing.

“Okay, good. Now loosen your hand on the rope, just a little. A bit will slide through and you’ll drop. The less you let go of, the slower you’ll descend.” Mapi let the rope go a bit, lowering maybe an inch. You nodded encouragingly, lowering down with her. “Keep your feet on the wall. You’re just going to walk yourself down. You can go as slow as you need to.”

Very slowly, at the pace of a wounded snail, you and Mapi moved down the wall. You didn’t stop talking the whole time, forgetting, honestly, that Ingrid was in your pocket.

She was sitting in the hallway, all the way in Norway, wondering what she did to deserve such a sweet sister, who cared so deeply for the people around her. Who adjusted to her girlfriend without a second thought. Who was sensitive and loving, even if you pretended not to be.

When Mapi got down the wall, she was still shaking too badly to undo the harness. You handed her your phone, un attaching her from the wall, as she spoke quietly to your sister. When she was free, and you were free, you shoved your face next to hers, greeting Ingrid again.

If Mapi was worried you’d make fun of her, she didn't have to be.

You just smiled at her. “Ice cream?” You asked hopefully. Mapi and Ingrid felt their lips both tug up into smiles, matching smiles.

“Definitely.” Mapi agreed.

The day had been a bonding experience. Just in a very different way than Mapi had anticipated.

------

You enjoyed spending time with Mapi, you really did. But you were also a person that needed a lot of time to yourself. Maybe it was a consequence of having no one around who paid much attention to you growing up, or maybe it was just how you were wired. Either way, after almost 2 weeks of spending every minute with your sister’s girlfriend, you needed a break.

Some silence, and a break.

Which is how you found yourself on a long hike, two days before Ingrid was due home. You’d gone yourself, without Scout, which wasn’t a common occurrence, but you wanted to be gone for a while. Just you and nature and nothing but your thoughts to echo around your head.

When you got to a fork in the path, you stopped to consider. The right path would lead you back down, and you’d be home within the hour. The left path would lead you through a tricky boulder section of the hike, and you’d be gone another 2 hours.

Your only hesitation with the left path was that Ingrid had very specifically told you not to take it alone. You’d talked to her before you’d left, and she’d warned you that the boulders were really tricky, and you shouldn’t do it by yourself. She promised to go with you when she got back, if you promised not to do it today.

Mapi would never know, though. You’d just tell her you stopped at the top to enjoy the views for a bit, before you headed down. And if Mapi didn’t know, Ingrid wouldn’t know. And you really, really, just wanted some more time to yourself.

So you set off to the left, ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut that you were making a mistake.

------

You didn’t remember it hurting this bad, having a broken bone. It was definitely broken, though. You’d heard it go, even as your body hit the ground with a loud thump.

The boulders had been tricky. So incredibly tricky. They were slightly loose and wobbly, and there were big gaps in between where you could easily fall. You had to get up and over a pile of rocks to keep moving, and you were tired. There were only a few more, by your estimations, and you were so relieved to almost be done that you were a bit more careless on the last few.

It was the final obstacle that you fell from. You lost your footing towards the end of the boulder pile, rolling and tumbling down the last boulder, and onto the dirt path. You threw your arm out to catch yourself, and that was all it took.

Sitting for a moment, you assessed your hand. It was broken. You knew instantly. You’d felt this before, you knew what it was. You felt strangely calm after making that assessment, carefully testing all of your fingers, and trying to move your wrist.

Ouch. No, it was definitely broken. You had a couple options. You could call Mapi to come get you. She’d freak out and call your sister, who would be furious that you’d done exactly what she warned you not to. Or, you could finish the hike and get home. Pretend you were tired from your hike, or sick or something, and sneak away into your bedroom. Sleep it off.

Logically, you knew the second option was bullshit. You couldn’t hide a broken arm forever. The thought of going to the doctor, though, was not something you would even consider. You only had one choice.

You rose to your feet, the movement jostling your arm just enough to make your stomach turn. You bent over, throwing up onto the path. Straightening up again, you set off down the path, arm cradled close to your body. You could do this. You were strong and independent and you didn’t need anyones help.

------

You felt like the universe was on your side, with the way things were going. Aside from the broken arm, of course. You were able to slip past Mapi, telling her a small lie that you’d grabbed food on the way home and weren’t feeling well, before you made it to your room. She popped her head in to say goodnight, and if she thought your behavior was weird, she didn’t say anything.

You waited until she was in bed to shower, knowing she’d be up early for training the next day. You weren’t quite sure what your plan was past that, but you were taking this step by step.

If Mapi didn’t know, she wouldn’t make you go to the doctor. She wouldn’t tell Ingrid. And Ingrid wouldn’t be mad.

It was very poor logic, but logic nonetheless.

You probably could have kept it up for longer, too, if your damn dog wasn’t so intelligent.

------

Scout wasn’t sure what a broken bone was. Nor was he sure what was wrong with you. But you were hurting, had cried yourself to sleep the night before, and no one was doing anything. The helpful tall one was gone, leaving him with only the annoying and loud short one. Scout didn't think she was very smart, but he’d try to get the message across that someone should probably do something about you, his favorite person on planet earth.

He followed her around when she arrived home from training. She ignored him.

When she sat on the couch and turned the TV on, he stood right next to her, staring daggers at her face. She ignored him.

It wasn’t until he started to whine loudly, and paw at her hand that she got fed up and finally looked at him.

“Scout, chico, I am begging you to leave me alone.” Mapi sighed. The dog just looked at her, taking a tiny step closer to the Spaniard and letting out a quiet whine. “I swear to god.”

She stood from the couch, heading for your room. If Scout would listen to anyone, it would be you. And she assumed that he was just pouting because you had shut your door, not allowing him inside. Now that Mapi thought about it, though, she realized she hadn’t seen you at all today, though she had exchanged texts with you while she was at training. Upon arriving at your door she raised her hand to knock, but before her hand could make contact with the wood, she heard a quiet, pained yelp come from the room.

Mapi frowned. “Nena?” She called, knocking on the door before trying to knob.

It was locked.

You never locked your door.

Mapi paused for a moment, looking down at Scout next to her, who was panting and staring up at her. See, his eyes seemed to say. I told you something was wrong.

“Solstråle? Can I come in?”

Inside, you had clapped your good hand over your mouth, realizing that Mapi had heard the sound you’d made. You’d been trying to pull a sweatshirt on to hide the awful sight of your arm, but even the soft brush of the fabric against your arm was horribly painful.

Fuck. Fuck. Mapi wasn’t going to go away, not without seeing you. You struggled with the sweatshirt further before responding, but you were unable to muffle a cry of pain when your forearm twisted slightly.

You shut your eyes, fighting back tears. “I’m fine, Mapi.” You replied, though you knew very well that it would not be enough for the Spaniard.

“You don’t sound fine.” Mapi said, twisting the knob again, as if it would have magically unlocked itself in the last few seconds.

“I am. All good.” You said back, fighting against the urge to open the door and collapse into her arms; your arm was on fire, the pain so bad that you were barely keeping yourself from openly sobbing.

On the other side of the door, Mapi shook her head, growing more and more panicked. You didn’t sound right, not at all. Scout next to her had begun to pace, and she was trying to figure out if she could break the door down before she spoke again.

“Open the door, nena. I am not asking. I need to see that you’re safe.” Mapi said firmly, closing her eyes and praying to god that you were okay.

You had no choice. You stepped forward, unlocking the door, and Mapi’s eyes fell to you, cradling your arm close to your chest. You arm that looked wrong. It was bent at a slightly awkward angle, turning an ugly shade of purple, and it was twice the size of how it normally was.

“Jesus.” Mapi sighed, stepping closer to you, she missed the pure panic that flashed across your face, but she saw you flinch violently away from her, backing up until you were on the opposite side of the room. There were tears in your eyes, and Mapi froze, raising her hands in the air.

“Sol,” Mapi began, her heart shattering when you shook your head rapidly, wordlessly begging for something, although Mapi wasn’t quite sure what. “It’s just me, Sol. I won’t touch your arm. I just want to look at it, okay? I promise, I will not touch you.”

You blinked at her for a minute, before nodding slowly. You moved over to your bed, taking a seat on the edge, sitting rather stiffly. It was a testament to the trust you had in the Spaniard that you held your arm out for her to see, a quiet sob falling from your lips.

Mapi moved closer slowly, like you were a wild animal she didn’t want to scare off, until she was standing right in front of you. She kept her hands behind her back, simply looking at your arm. It was broken. Mapi wasn’t a doctor, but this wasn’t a difficult determination to make. A broken arm is pretty obvious.

“What happened?”

“I fell.”

“How did you fall?”

“I was hiking along those rocks that Ingrid told me not to climb on and I lost my balance and fell on my arm.”

“This was yesterday?” Mapi breathed, sick to her stomach at the thought that you’d been hiding this from her for so long. That you’d been hiding it at all, but that you’d gone to sleep with an untreated broken bone, that she’d left you alone while she went to training, while you had a broken bone.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, cariño.” She sighed. “You must be in so much pain.” She studied you closely, and she decided that now was not the time to have a conversation about hiding things from her. “Nena, do you want a hug?”

Now that she knew, it was even harder to pretend that you were fine. She was right. You had been in a lot of pain. You were acutely aware of that pain, now, and how desperately you wanted someone to take charge of the situation and make everything okay.

“Please,” you whispered, leaning in her direction. Mapi very carefully wrapped her arms around you, gently rubbing her hand up and down your back. You trembled against her, and Mapi thought at that moment that she would break her own arm if it meant you weren’t in pain.

Mapi hugged you tight for a minute before she very regretfully pulled back, putting her hands on her shoulders and studying you. “Okay. Okay. Here is what we’re going to do. Tomorrow, we are going to have a talk about hiding injuries from us. Because Sol, this is so dangerous. I don’t know why you didn’t tell me, and you can explain later, but right now we need to go see a doctor.”

“No.” You said simply, your face hardening as you looked up at the Spaniard. And it wasn’t that Mapi hadn’t expected some resistance; she knew that you had an issue with doctors. It was the decisiveness with which you spoke, and the barely masked fright on your face.

“Solstråle, we need to get that x-rayed.”

“No. It’s fine, Mapi.”

“It isn’t fine! It looks broken, nena, we need to get it looked at.”

“No. No doctors, no hospital, no x-ray.”

“Solstråle, I will call your sister if I need to. We are going to the doctor.”

A look of betrayal flashed across our face, and you held your arm tighter to your body in a protective manner. “Please don’t make me.” You whispered.

Harsh wasn’t working. Demanding wasn’t working. Mapi knew she couldn’t force you. She just had to convince you. She stepped closer, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You are scared, that’s okay. I’ll be with you the whole time, though, nena. Do you trust me?”

“Yeah.” You said, your voice cracking a bit, looking up at Mapi with wide, wet eyes.

“I promise you, I am not going to let anything happen to you.”

You considered for a moment. You knew, realistically, that you had to go in. And you also knew that Ingrid was probably going to be furious with you. You craved comfort from your sister, though, you needed to hear her voice, telling you that you were safe. Ingrid knew a bit more than Mapi did about your issue with doctors, even though she didn’t have the full story. Ingrid was safe, and so was Mapi, but you really just wanted your sister.

“Can I call Ingrid on the way there?”

And even though Mapi winced internally at mere thought of how upset this would make her girlfriend, she nodded. “Of course you can. Come on, let’s go.”

The care with which Mapi helped you down the stairs brought tears to your eyes. She put your shoes on for you, double knotting the laces like you always did, before she paused, crouched in front of where you sat on the bench by the front door.

“I promise you, Sol. I am not going to let anything happen to you. Okay? I’ve got you, kid.” She said, watching as you blinked hard, clenching your jaw and nodding.

“Yeah, thanks,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Mapi helped you up, then, and you both exited the house.

Mapi dialed the phone in the car, connecting it to the speaker. Ingrid picked up on the first ring, almost like she knew something was wrong. “Hi mi amor,” she greeted warmly.

“Hola. We’re in the car, Sol is with me.”

“Hi solstråle,” Ingrid said.

“Hi,” you replied, not uttering another word.

“Tell her what happened, mi sol.” Mapi encouraged

“Tell me what? What happened?” Ingrid asked, her tone much more concerned and serious.

“I hurt my arm. We’re going to the doctor.” You mumbled. Ingrid sighed, but she got the feeling that this wasn’t the worst of what you had to tell her, that it was going to get worse.

“How? What’s wrong with it?”

“I was hiking and I fell. Mapi thinks it’s broken.”

“Broken…climbing… on the trail I told you to be careful on- wait, Sol that was yesterday. This happened yesterday!?” Ingrid shouted. “Why are you just taking her now, María?”

Mapi winced. “I didn’t know until now.”

“YOU DIDN’T TELL MAPI UNTIL NOW?” Ingrid yelled, so loudly that the speakers crackled slightly.

Mapi glanced over at you to see that there were tears pouring down your cheeks, and your bottom lip captured in between your teeth, as you tried valiantly not to cry. Shit.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Relax, let’s all just take a breath.” She soothed, turning to pull over on a side street.

“María, I will not relax, this is not oka-”

“Ingrid, stop.” Mapi said firmly, her voice more stern than you’d ever heard it. Ingrid fell silent. “Sol, breathe. Ingrid isn’t mad, she’s just worried. We are okay, everything is okay.”

You nodded frantically, trying to get a handle on your emotions, which were, frankly, overwhelming at the moment. “Sorry, I’m sorry Ingrid, I’m so sorry.” You sobbed.

Ingrid felt her heart shatter. She hadn’t meant to shout. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled, honey.”

“I just- the last time I hurt my arm mom didn’t believe me and you told me to be careful and I didn’t want you to be mad, and I didn’t know if you’d think I was lying, and I don’t want to go to the doctor, Ingrid, but Mapi is taking me and she says I have to, and-” you cut yourself off with another loud sob, before arms were reaching over the center console and wrapping around you.

“Shh, nena, it’s okay. You are safe, you are loved. You are okay.” Mapi whispered, loud enough that Ingrid could hear it over the phone. Tears were falling down her cheeks, too, for a combination of reasons. Mostly, though, because her girlfriend was being so absurdly sweet and patient with you. Not that María would ever be anything different, but Ingrid would never stop appreciating it.

Once you’d calmed down a bit, you leaned back away from Mapi, looking at her desperately. “María I really don’t want to go to the doctor, please don’t make me,” you begged. Even as everything in Mapi wanted to give in and take you home where you felt safe, her eyes flickered down to your arm, which was black and blue and swollen, and she knew that wasn’t an option. Before she could speak, though, Ingrid chimed in.

“Solstråle, switch the phone to a video call and let me see your arm.”

You did as she asked, fighting back another wave of tears when Ingrid’s face popped up on the screen, looking sympathetically at you. You held up your arm, holding back a groan of pain as you did so, not happy when Ingrid frowned at the sight.

“Sweetheart,”

“No,” you cried, hiding your face in the crook of your elbow. This was absurd. Your arm was clearly broken, you were 18 years old, and you were afraid of the doctor. Like a child. It was humiliating and you wanted nothing more than to pretend that this was fine, that you were fine going to get a few x-rays and a cast, but the feelings of anxiety and panic were only rising in you again, and your whole body shook at the thought of letting a doctor anywhere near your arm.

“I know, I know,” Ingrid whispered, sounding like she really did know. While your parents had always dismissed your fear of doctors as you being dramatic, ingrid had always been able to tell that you were completely and utterly terrified of going in for a check up, or going into the hospital. The pure horror in your eyes whenever you had to do so was proof enough, but she’d had to take you once, just to get your flu shot, and you’d silently cried the entire way to the office, thrown up in the bathroom upon arriving, and almost broke her hand with your strong grip while the shot was being administered.

You hadn’t always been like this, though. It had started when you were 10, and Ingrid had never known the reason. You’d never told her, and your parents hadn’t either.

“You’re scared, yes? Can you tell me what is making you so afraid?” Ingrid asked gently.

You took a few shuddering breaths before hesitantly looking at her on the screen. “When I broke my arm? They had to reset it because mom waited to take me to the doctor and the bones were in the wrong spot.

They told me they were going to put some ice on it and a bandage and then the nurses were holding me down and the doctor was forcing the bones back into place.”

You took a minute, trying to stop the incessant shakes that were running through your body at the memory. You jumped slightly when Mapi’s hand found your uninjured one, but you grabbed on tight, closing your eyes to finish your explanation.

“I cried and I screamed and mom told me to stop being dramatic, and that I was embarrassing her in front of all the doctors. They made her leave the room then, and it was just me and the doctor and the nurses. The bones didn’t go back right on the first try, and they had to do it two more times before it worked. Mom only came in when they were done and they were putting the cast on. I asked her if I could call you, and she said no, because you were too busy for me.”

It all made sense, now. Ingrid remembered coming back from international duty after you’d broken your arm. You’d seemed so depressed and withdrawn, and she’d assumed you were upset about the injury. Never could she have imagined what had gone on while she was gone.

“That is awful, nena. You did not deserve that, and I am so sorry that happened to you.” Mapi began, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “I understand why you’re scared. I promise you, though, I won’t let anyone touch you until you say it’s okay. They’ll tell you what they’re going to do before they do it, and I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Your sister could tell that you were slightly more convinced, now. You really trusted Mapi. She’d never given you a reason not to trust her.

“Solstråle, you really need to get it looked at. I’m sorry I’m not there, I’m sorry I wasn’t there the first time, but Mapi is going to take really good care of you, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed, another tear sliding down your cheek. Even as you did so, though, even as you gave Mapi permission to start the car and resume the drive to the hospital, you weren’t sure you could do this. You understood the importance of getting your arm taken care of, and you’d try. Whether you’d get through this hospital trip, though, was a different story.

--------

Mapi was relatively sure she was going to need an x-ray herself; you were holding her hand so tightly, your knuckles were white. You were shaking in the hospital bed, a vacant expression on your face.

You’d been sort of… despondent since returning from your x-ray. The doctors had insisted you go alone, and after some convincing, you’d agreed. When they walked you back into the room where Mapi was waiting, though, it was clear you were in another place. All she could do was wait for you to come back a bit.

“Mapi?” You said quietly, getting the attention of the Spaniard, who had been looking down at her phone, texting your sister.

“Sí nena?” Mapi replied, very gently squeezing your hand. You looked at her, then, making eye contact for the first time since returning from x-rays, and Mapi winced at the terror in your eyes.

“I don’t feel safe.” You whispered, unsure of what else you could do or say. You needed help, your fear was rapidly becoming overwhelming, especially because you knew that any minute, the doctor would be returning.

Mapi nodded sympathetically, reaching out with her free hand to push some hair off your forehead. She knew that physical touch was often the only thing that could comfort you when you were feeling anxious. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel more safe?”

“Promise you won’t leave? You won’t let them hurt me?”

“I will stay right here with you the whole time. And I will never let anyone hurt you.” Mapi looked at you with such conviction, spoke with such confidence and finality, you had no choice but to believe her.

“I want to go home.” You whimpered, your voice cracking.

“Soon, mi sol. Soon.”

It was only a few minutes later that the doctor returned. She was a kind woman, gentle and cautious. She had some understanding that you were afraid, and she’s respected that. She told you everything she was going to do before she did it, and she hadn’t once made you feel ridiculous for how you were acting.

“Alrighty. Got your x rays here. We’re looking at a bilateral forearm fracture, which means both the radius and the ulna are broken. The fractured are clean across, nothing is displaced which is good news for you; that means we can put the cast on, and nothing has to get put back into place.”

Mapi watched as your body practically deflated next to her, a long sigh of relief escaping your lips.

The doctor continued. “I am curious, though. Have you broken this arm before?”

You stiffened slightly, and Mapi shifted next to you, moving closer unconsciously in a protective manner.

“Yeah, when I was 10.”

The doctor nodded. “I can see it on the x-ray, there’s a line here, where it didn't heal exactly right. That white dot? You’ve developed a bit of a bone spur there where the bones weren’t properly aligned the first time. Does it give you pain?”

You shrugged. The relief was gone from your face, and you only looked defensive now. “Sometimes.”

Mapi guessed that sometimes meant often, and she wondered if you ever would have told her and Ingrid that you were having issues with your arm, if this hadn’t occurred.

“Well, the good news is your bones are not at risk for healing in the wrong spot, so you should avoid a repeat of the first injury complications. There are options, though, if that bone spur continues to give you issues. Physical therapy, steroid injections, and surgery are all on the table.”

You nodded, jaw clenched tightly shut. Mapi could tell this wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have, and she figured you’d been pushed far enough today.

“Thank you, very much. What is the recovery time like?” She said, effectively drawing the attention away from you as the conversation turned to casts and braces and slings.

You might as well have been in another room, for all you heard. You didn’t need to get the bones reset. Just a cast. You could handle that.

Or, you thought you could. It was much more stress-inducing than you expected, when the doctor came in with the items to make the cast, and reached for your arm. You flinched away from her violently, looking helplessly at Mapi. You were thinking about how she said she wouldn’t let anyone touch you if you didn’t want them to, and Mapi knew that.

“Can you give her a second, please?” Mapi said, not taking her eyes off of you as she slid into the hospital bed you were sitting upright in.

The doctor nodded, for her part lacking understanding, but not needing an explanation to respect that you were clearly terrified.

“Sol, breathe. It’s just the cast. They’re gonna put it on, they aren’t going to mess with your arm. You can do this, I know you can.” Mapi encouraged, more than a little surprised when you took a deep breath, nodded, and held your arm out to the doctor.You turned your head away, pressing your face into Mapi’s shoulder, gripping onto her shirt with your good hand.

You were putting all of your trust in Mapi in that moment, to ensure that the doctor was gentle and didn’t do anything she hadn’t said she would. This wasn’t lost on the Spaniard, and she watched closely as they wrapped your arm, and began applying the plaster.

She could feel your tears soaking through the fabric of her shirt, though you were completely silent as you cried. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last time, Mapi cursed your mother with everything in her. The woman had given her Ingrid, and you by extension, but she had inflicted so much pain on you in your short life. Mapi ached for the day where these scars weren’t painfully obvious, for the day you could go to the doctor without fear, ask for a hug when you needed one, cry openly when you were hurting, believe with all your heart that you were loved.

She held tight to you, watching as the doctor put the finishing touches on your cast.

“I’ve got you, nena.” She whispered. “Almost done.”

You were too good to have experienced everything that you had. She just wanted you to be happy.

When you pulled away from her to inspect your arm, she could still see such apprehension written clearly across your face. She wondered how long it would take for it to fully leave. Or if it ever would. Some scars never faded.

You gave her a watery smile, though, nodding towards the blue of your cast. “Couldn’t get it blaugrana but this is good too, right?” You joked.

Mapi returned your smile, feeling a very familiar spark of hope inside of her chest. Of course you would be okay. Of course you would. You were one of the strongest, most resilient people she knew.

“Very good. I am going to draw something so inappropriate on there before your sister gets home.”

You laughed, and Mapi laughed, both of you felt a bit like everything would be okay. Even if Ingrid scribbled over whatever Mapi drew on your cast.

-------

You sat blankly on the couch upon arriving home, staring at the cast your hand was wrapped in. You weren’t really sure what to do now, and it didn’t seem like Mapi knew, either. She took a seat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her.

“Talk to me, nena.” She encouraged.

“I just don’t feel good. I’m really tired.” You told her.

“It’s been a long day, your body is coming down from a lot of stress and anxiety. You’re okay, now, so let’s just lay on the couch and relax, sí?”

You agreed, shifting to move into your spot in the corner of the sectional, before you paused. “Can you stay with me?” You asked.

Mapi smiled at you. “Of course I can. Even if it means your damn dog is going to come lay on my legs and get fur all over my pants.”

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly, but you couldn’t give much of an argument because Scout jumped up on the couch right after, flopping down on your legs, making sure to stretch a leg out to rest on Mapi’s legs, too.

You dozed off relatively easily, clearly drained from a very emotionally and physically exhausting day, and Mapi took the opportunity to call her girlfriend, who she had been updating over text frequently, but who would still be, no doubt, beside herself with worry.

When Ingrid answered the phone, and only Mapi’s face appeared in view of the camera, Ingrid half convinced herself that you’d locked yourself in a room somewhere and were refusing to come out. Mapi shifted the camera, though, showing you absolutely passed out on the couch, your uninjured hand holding onto her arm, something you’d done completely in your sleep.

“Hey.” Mapi greeted. She didn’t worry about the volume of her voice; you could sleep through anything.

“Hi.” Ingrid said, feeling ridiculously emotional at the sight of her two favorite people together. “She’s okay?”

“Yeah. It was really hard for her, I’ve never seen her that anxious. They just put a cast on, though, and she’s relaxed enough now to rest. She was so exhausted, Ingrid, I’d be surprised if she slept at all last night.” Mapi paused as Ingrid hummed. The Norwegian could tell her girlfriend was upset, just from the way her mouth was set stiffly, and the way her eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“How are you doing my love? That must have been really hard to see.” She commented, studying Mapi’s expression closely.

The Spaniard just shrugged, though. “I am sorry this happened, I know how worried you must have been being so far away.”

Ingrid shook her head. “Don’t do that, don’t try to distract me. I want to know how you are doing.”

Mapi nibbled on her lip for a moment, her eyes everywhere but on the phone in front of her. “I am so sorry Ingrid.” She said finally, the phone dropping into her lap as she wiped impatiently at her eyes. Ingrid had to be furious with her. Had to be. This was all Mapi’s fault, after all.

Of course, Ingrid had never considered blaming Mapi, not for a single minute. “No, baby, this isn’t your fault.” She said, as if she’d read her girlfriends mind. Mapi could only scoff. “I’m serious, María. These things happen, it’s no one's fault.”

“She didn’t tell me. She didn’t trust me enough to tell me.” Mapi whispered.

Ingrid frowned. “No, she trusts you. It’s complicated with her, when she’s hurt. You heard what she said about when she broke her arm the first time. Her response to being hurt was completely based on that experience, it had nothing to do with you.”

Everything Ingrid said was so logical, Mapi had a hard time coming up with a counter argument. She wasn’t quite ready to forgive herself, though, so she changed the subject.

“You come home tomorrow.” She said, a small smile gracing her lips.

Ingrid let the very obvious subject change go in favor of smiling back at her girlfriend. “I do. I’ve missed you both so much.”

“I have to make sure to sign Sol’s cast before you get here.” Mapi said thoughtfully.

Ingrid grew pale at the thought. “No, María, whatever you are planning to put on there please, please don’t. Just write your name.”

“Oh, my name will be on there.” Mapi smirked.

Well, at least it didn’t seem like she was planning something explicit. “Leave room for me to sign too.” Ingrid said grumpily.

Mapi almost jumped when you chimed in from next to her, throat slightly scratchy. “Ingrid signs first. Those are the rules.” You mumbled, barely opening your eyes to address your sister when Mapi tilted the phone towards you.

“Ha!” Ingrid said, looking very pleased with herself.

Mapi wanted to argue, she really did. She knew, though, that Ingrid felt insecure about her relationship with you. You were a bit more open with Mapi, a bit more outwardly trusting. Mapi knew this was just because she normally had a much softer approach, though Ingrid’s tougher one was definitely necessary. She knew, too, that Ingrid worried a lot that you preferred Mapi to your sister. So, she let this one go.

“Fine. I don’t need to sign it. I’ve already got that number 4 tattooed on you.”

Ingrid paled. “No. No you didn’t. María Pilar León Cebrian, no you did not.”

“She did. It’s huge, on my right ass cheek.” Next to you, Mapi stifled her laughter, and you did your best to keep a straight face.

“You better be kidding. I swear to god if I get off that airplane and you have a four tattooed on your ass I will kill you both right there.”

“How are you going to check? Are you going to pants me in the airport?” You laughed.

“Solstråle,” Ingrid began, her teeth clenched.

“Relaaaax Ingrid. I don’t have any more tattoos,”

She let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”

“...Yet.” You added, laughing with Mapi when Ingrid brought the phone closer to her face.

“NO! No, Solstråle, no no no no no.”

You and Mapi laughed so hard you could barely breathe, hearing Ingrid repeating no over and over.

Ingrid rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t annoyed, not really. You were laughing and that was a big change from before. You were on the road to recovery, and you looked adorable all curled up next to Mapi, grinning at your sister through the phone. How could she be upset at your [stupid, idiotic, immature] joke?

Though she really would murder her girlfriend if you had another tattoo when she got home.

-------

this took me an absolutely absurd amount of time.

hope you enjoy sol <3

ps. please tell me all your sol thoughts comments keep me living and breathing 🫶🏻🫶🏻

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #platonic reader #🍓☀️

698 notes · View notes

yeyinde · 6 hours

Note

The 141 finding out you've never had sex.

Just casually drinking, playing cards. A joke causes it to slip out.

body electric: the virgin edition

Gaz, the instigator, mutters something about not having been fucked in ages. this springs up a sudden surge of comradery, because, yeah. neither have they.

Soap's devote Catholicism (i like to imagine) leaves little room for flippant intimacy. he tries to be a good boy. key word, of course, being: tries. but the last serious relationship was years ago. back when he was grunt. he's pent up. abstinence, yeah? he holds it tight in his hand. but the thing about fists is that they're often mistaken for anger. Soap's a realist masquerading as an optimist. he knows whoever falls into his jowls next will be a MacTavish by the time he's through with them. and commitment. well. his comes at a price. a hefty one.

Ghost prefers casual flings where he doesn't have to take any clothes off. unzips his trousers, frees his cock, and then tries to pretend he's a real, flesh and blood, human. to feel something, anything, except a vacuum between hollow bones. but his tastes are peculiar. on the side of unhinged. he hasn't found the perfect body yet satiate himself with.

Price. well. with his bloody hands, he thinks he'd rather not dirty the same people he swears to protect. and divorcing at the age of 30 does that to a man, maybe. his role as a captain (an excuse in retrospect) also keeps him from unleashing his wants. the very same ones that are probably best under lock and key, anyway. it's just for the best, really. something he ought to do because the moment he has another chance to sink his teeth into someone's neck, he'll tear them apart. break them into pieces.

despite bringing it up, Gaz knows the real reason he's single is because he's pushy. he wants. so he takes. and then takes some more. more. more. until his gullet is full of the person he's obsessed with. carrying them around in his breast pocket everywhere he goes. the perfect mate. the one he can shower with unfettered affection. a deluge, in all honesty. one with the ideation to drown. biblical floods. trapped beneath him. he likes it more than he should, but. singedom, then, he supposes.

and then you roll the dice. admit, sheepishly, that, technically, you have them all beat. zero is always lesser than five, ten, twenty. but it's this misstep—zero, never—that catches their attention.

suddenly, you're not surrounded by kin but a pack of wolves. all hungry in their own ways, all starving. it just makes sense to quench their hunger with you, doesn't it? friend, ally. pretty little thing. so sweet for them. and perfectly mouldable. putty they shape to their hearts desire. the perfect mate.

Soap grips his rosary. the sign of the cross, heavenly Father and Holy Spirit, digging into his palm like the burn of a baptism. what's devotion if not pain? he cuts himself on the gold. offers blood of the sacrament to whoever might be listening, and leans in, sniffing.

Price's knuckles are white. he leans back, hidden in shadows. all you can see is spark of burning orange from his cigar as he takes mouthful after mouthful of smoke, contemplating. assessing.

"that so?" he doesn't even need to look at his Lieutenant to know that the man has gone still. too bad for you, it's not from shock.

Ghost barely holds himself back. keeps tight in his seat. fists clenching. unclenching. he has a good enough read on the people around him to see the unfiltered desire ripping across their face. scorching. but to bite, with his mouthful of jagged, seraded teeth; ones meant to rip, break, tear, would ruin you. permanently. unequivocally. and—

"wanna give it a go?" all eyes turn to Gaz, electric in his seat. eyes smouldering umbre. "i mean, you trust us the most, don't you?" us. it's stunning, he thinks, the way Gaz can weave tapestry in the air like this with just his words. one tangled like shibari binds. "and we care for you a lot. we'll be gentle. it's up to you, of course, but—"

Soap's bloody hand disappears under the table. you gasp. "yer askin' fer it, ain't ye? beggin' so pretty fer it."

"n-no, i—"

"mind your manners." Price. his voice is chiselled into char, authoritative; low. a lulling command spoken in a breath of smoke. "and don't lie, love. or i'll have to take you over my knee."

the tension is thick. Soap's arm moves, slow. deliberate. Ghost has clench his jaw to avoid bearing his teeth. snarling.

Gaz cuts it with a knife. hews compliance into your skin with a fine needle point. "it's okay. we'll take such good care'a you. make you feel so good."

your submission is a heavy thing. oppressive. the shallow dip of your chin, the blistering heat simmering under your flesh, burning right, is the prettiest fuckin' thing he's ever seen. he does clench his jaw this time. tight, tight. tight

until something pops.

"okay." you yield. head bowed. beautifully submissive.

when he looks around, catches the predatory crackle in the air. his hackles raise. immediate. instinctual. and ah, right.

it's easy to forget he's surrounded by a wild pack of stray dogs. starving ones, too.

#141 x reader #my grandpa is going into town and im going w hin so i wrote this on the way sorry for the mistakes

597 notes · View notes

nottsangel · 3 days

Text

impatient — t.n.

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings: smut 18+, unprotected vaginal sex, degradation, face slapping, creampie, cursing, dirty talk, cum eating, public bathroom sex

word count: 2.3k

summary: it was difficult keeping your hands off your boyfriend while with his friends, so you decided to tease him until he gave him.

nav. // m.list // blurbs m.list // taglist

You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was that made you so incredibly horny tonight— whether it was your boyfriend’s piercing blue eyes staring at you, or his expensive cologne filling your nostrils, or his deep voice and Italian accent, or maybe all of it combined with the alcohol in your system. Whatever it was, you felt an ache between your legs, prompting you to rub your thighs together to create some friction— you desperately needed to feel him and it consumed your mind.

Theo was completely oblivious as he chatted with Draco— a cigarette in one hand and the other arm wrapped snugly around you. You were discreetly watching him, observing every single detail as you bit your lip, yearning for his touch. Poor Pansy was busy prattling on in detail about her new crush, but it was one ear in and the other out as you were distracted by Theo's gentle touch beneath your shirt, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin, and the way his eyes occasionally met yours, making your heart flutter.

Even though they were more Theo’s friends rather than yours, hanging out with the Slytherins was usually fun, however, this time around wasn't quite as enjoyable. Your mind was filled with countless thoughts and fantasies of Theo fucking you in every way imaginable— missionary, with your hands pinned above your head, or doggy style, while he roughly pulls your hair, or— “You alright, cara mia?” Theo’s deep voice snapped you back to reality, causing your eyes to widen as you blinked rapidly, nearly choking on your saliva.

“Y-yeah, why wouldn’t I?” You responded quickly, furrowing your brows and forcing a smile, masking your true thoughts as you gazed up at him, trying your hardest to hide the fact that him, naked, on top of you is the only thing on your mind right now. Theo’s blue eyes briefly narrowed, considering your behaviour to be somewhat strange but he shrugged it off, taking a drag from his cigarette.

His rough hand roamed over your body, from your waist down to your thigh, dangerously close to where you craved his touch the most. You bit your cheek, struggling to maintain composure as you were practically eye-fucking him and watched the smoke lazily drift from his lips. Fuck it.

“Actually, no. I am not alright.” Theo redirected his attention to you, his brows drawing together in puzzlement as he gazed down at you before you rose from your seat and moved to sit on his lap, facing him with your arms wrapped around his neck. He spread his legs wider so you could sit on his right leg more comfortably, his eyes tracking your every movement.

“What’s wrong, Piccola? Talk to me.” Theo asked with curiosity as you drew closer to him, your nails lightly grazing his skin, sending shivers down his spine as you gathered the courage and whispered into his ear. “I’m so fucking horny, Theo. I need you. I need to feel you inside of me.” His eyes widened a bit and his jaw clenched as he uncomfortably shifted in his seat, taken aback by your response. Theo collected himself quickly before taking another drag from his cigarette and exhaling the smoke, its scent filling your senses, before putting it out.

“You’re gonna have to wait, princess.” “But Theo-“ “I said, you’re gonna have to wait.” He repeated himself with his gaze fixed ahead of him and his voice cold and devoid of any emotion. His authoritative tone and piercing gaze made you feel a chill to the bone, yet it somehow only fuelled your desperation. Pressing your lips to his neck, you placed soft kisses on his skin while wiggling your ass right on his crotch, causing him to instantly grip your hips with one hand, holding you firmly in place, his nails digging into your flesh.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here.” he warned with his lips pressed tightly together, his expression reflecting a sense of disapproval. Challenge accepted. You knew you had his attention now, and you weren’t going to give up that easily as you gazed up at him through your eyelashes, batting your wide, doe-like eyes. The contrast between your innocent appearance and your naughty behaviour only turned him on more.

Normally composed and collected, Theo found it increasingly difficult to control himself as he prodded the inside of his cheek with his tongue, growing visibly more frustrated. A cheeky smile spread across your face, knowing you were close to getting exactly what you wanted. “Just let me make you feel good baby, I know you want it. I’ll even let you cum inside me.”

Theo’s knee restlessly bounced up and down while he tried to focus on the conversations in the room— Lorenzo was once again bragging in detail about some girl he fucked the night before, but it became unbearable when you subtly began kissing and sucking on his earlobe while your soft hands wandered all over his tense body.

“I’m wearing that set you like. You know, the black one... with the pretty lace.” You paused, taking in his stressed form with a sly grin. “It’s just a bit… a bit uncomfortable, though. You should help me take it off.” Theo momentarily closed his eyes and inhaled sharply before unexpectedly rising to his feet, causing you to stumble forward. He forcefully seized your wrist and pulled you along as you struggled to keep up with his fast pace and felt his grip tighten with each step.

“Where are you off to?” Draco asked confusedly but Theo ignored him, his gaze fixed ahead as he purposely strode forward with long steps, as if driven by a clear goal. Opening the door to the dimly lit corridors, deserted at this hour, he forcefully dragged you along with him.

“Theo, where are we-“ “Shut up.” You gulped when his stern voice cut you off, taking long strides as the chilly air prickled your skin with goosebumps. He pushed open the door to the toilets and aggressively hauled you inside, causing you to let out a small squeal. After closing the door behind him, he turned, looming over you, his large figure pushing you towards the sink, causing you to stumble backwards and shiver as the cold porcelain met your back.

It was dark and quiet in the bathroom— shadows clung to the corners and edges of the room while moonlight softly illuminated your boyfriend's handsome features, providing the only light in the place. The occasional drip of water from the sink added to the mysterious and eerie atmosphere, emphasising that you were the only souls in the vicinity. An unpleasant mix of heavy cigarette smoke along with the faint lavender scent of soap entered your nostrils, only to be quickly overpowered by Theo’s cologne as he stepped closer and closer to you, his tall body pressing against yours.

Theo abruptly gripped your face, his fingers pressing into your cheeks as he forced you to meet his gaze. “You wanna behave like a fucking brat? Then you’ll get treated like one” He hissed as he let go before your face abruptly met the palm of his hand, slapping you with force. Your head cocked to the side as you felt a bit lightheaded due to getting more turned on with each passing second, your arousal dripping down the inside of your legs beneath your skirt.

Theo gripped the back of your thighs before swiftly lifting you up and placing you on the flat surface of the sink. He smirked when he noticed your wet underwear as he spread your legs before massaging his thumb over your clothed swollen clit, causing you to take a hitched breath. “So pathic. You just always need to be filled with my cock, hm?”

He moved his mouth to your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine before he began sucking on your skin, leaving you covered in love bites. “Use your words and tell me what you want, bella.” He whispered, followed by him sucking and biting on your neck more aggressively, causing goosebumps to form all over your body before wrapping your legs around his body to pull him closer to you.

“I want— need to feel you inside of me, please.” you murmured, your fingers running through his soft hair while his hands wandered to the hem of your shirt before pulling it over your head and tossing it across the cold tiles of the empty bathroom. He met your pleading gaze with his own intense blue eyes, gleaming in the moonlight before removing his own shirt as well, revealing his muscular body and making you drool at the sight.

“And you think you deserve it?” he questioned while sliding your soaked underwear off and tossing them on the floor. You nodded cautiously, unsure of what answer he wanted to hear but the need to feel him taking over your entire brain. “You do? Such a stupid fuckin’ slut.” He growled before unbuckling his belt and pulling both his pants and boxers down as his erection sprung free against his abs, precum dripping from the tip.

“If you want it that bad, then I’ll give it to you.” He growled before he positioned himself in between your legs and pushed in with one quick thrust, no warning, making you moan out his name as you threw your head back. He quickly set an unrelenting pace, completely stretching you out as you felt a hint of pain that was soon replaced by immense pleasure as he pounded into you. His hand travelled over your tits, squeezing them firmly before putting his thumb in your mouth, forcing you to suck on it as you innocently gazed up at him. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

He then removed his thumb from your mouth before his palm struck your face with force once again, the impact of the slap sending a burst of a stinging sensation through your skin, igniting a feeling of ecstasy as the tip of his cock simultaneously brushed against your sweet spot, causing you to let out a shattered breath. “You like that shit, no?” He asked with a condescending tone and a malicious grin on his face, his Italian accent heavier than usual. “Of course you do, such a naughty girl. Always beggin’ for my cock.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but were unable to form any coherent sentences, resulting in merely choked sobs to leave your mouth as his cock massaged your walls so perfectly. Theo gazed down to where your bodies met, watching his cock disappear into your body, making him groan. “Gonna fill you up so good, bella. You want that?” He asked, his voice raspy and hoarse.

You eagerly nodded with your eyes closed as his hips snapped against you and the sounds of smacking flesh echoed in the empty bathroom, along with your erotic moans as the pleasure kept building. He gripped your face, forcing you to look at him as your eyes shot open, “Use your fucking words.”

“Fu— fuck, please! I want it so fucking bad” he released your face before his hand roamed to your core followed by his thumb rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit, causing all of your muscles to tighten, your fingers gripping the edge of the sink as if your life depended on it. You felt your release nearing as his cock brushed against your g-spot over and over again, each hit sending a wave of pleasure through your entire body. You wrapped your legs tighter around his torso, bringing him as close to you as possible.

It didn’t take long before your orgasm finally struck you, causing your back to arch and your vision to blur as you clenched tightly around his cock, seeing stars as he fucked you through it. “That’s it, princess. Cum all over my cock.” He didn’t come long after you as his thrusts became sloppier and his fingers gripped the flesh of your hips firmly followed by him emptying himself, feeling the familiar pool of his warmth deep inside of you. A string of Italian curse words left his lips as he threw his head back and painted your walls white with his cum.

He rode out his high while you struggled to catch your breath, your chest heaving up and down before he gently pulled out. Your legs were trembling as you felt his sperm slowly trickle out of you, but Theo was busy putting his clothes back on before gathering your underwear from the floor and stuffing it in his pocket. “What are you doing!? I need that, I’m literally dripping everywhere!” You snarled, knowing that if you stood up right now, his cum would drip all over your legs. “No, you don’t.” Theo replied coldly before running his fingers over your cunt to gather your mixed juices, causing you to wince in overstimulation before he forcefully stuck his digits in your mouth, forcing you to suck them clean as you drooled all over them. “Problem solved.”

Feeling exhausted as your eyes struggled to stay open, you whined, “Let’s just… go back to your dorm and shower together, please? ‘m so tired.” Theo lifted you gently and set you down, causing you to sway slightly on shaky legs. He gathered your clothes, helped you dress, then planted a quick kiss on your forehead.

“Not a chance. We’re gonna go back to the others and you’re gonna face the consequences of your own actions.” He ordered strictly before taking your hand and dragging you through the door to the chilly corridors once again.

“But— but literally everyone can see we just had sex Theo, it’s fucking embarrassing.” “Good. Let everyone see. Let everyone see that only I can fuck you this good. Let everyone see that you’re all mine, cara mia. Mine and mine only.”

reblogs and comments are very appreciated !!

nav. // m.list // blurbs m.list

tags (join here): @xolaylaxo @one-direction-harry-potter1 @kayleiggh @abaker74 @anahcruz15 @jasminejandee @leelizzz @droplikeconfetti @burningdesirebby0 @itzliyalupin @hvgwartss @bunnyweasley23 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @loveeharrington @demirunner @saturnmoonyy @nyctophicbtch @usuck @bigtiddywench @mih-velaryon @scrletletter @ecliqwze @le000xxgrd @dramaticals @thepotatopigeon @etolies-garden @drewstarkeyslut @rafesslxt @diaries-of-a-hopelessromantic @jllyunn @rafesgiirl @sluttychanel @blackthunder137 @rafesthroatbaby @eternalbuckley @i-like-pandas5 @qualitykinghologram + my gf @oceandriveab

784 notes · View notes

kisses4reid · 2 days

Text

missed it | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you celebrate your birthday alone in tears, until someone knocks on your door.

genre - colleague!reid x fem!reader, angst, fluff

warnings - angst, crying, memories of neglect and favouritism

a/n - a little self indulgent. thank you for 450 followers!!!! taglist is open as always, sorry for the cliff hanger.

Crisscross applesauce on a wooden barstool in front of leftovers from the night before. Exactly how every Wednesday night is. It’s raining, you can smell petichor, and you had just finished a book your colleague had lended you two days prior.

There is nothing special about today.

Your day was full of paper work and coffee breaks. Exactly how every Wednesday is. It was overcast, you could smell petichor, and you had just handed in some classified paperwork to your boss.

There was nothing special about today.

You night will be sleepless, full of tears and terrible memories. Not like every Wednesday night. It will storm, you’ll smell dirt and mud, and you’ll show up the next day to pretend you’re as bubbly and smiley as every one thinks you are.

There is nothing ever special about today.

You gripped your fork and stuffed the last of the leftover rice into your cheeks, chewing as a coping mechanism for the ball gathering at the back of your throat.

Glancing at your phone every two minutes didn’t help the gathering tears either, especially when it was a black screen every time. It happens every year.

Maybe your little cousin will send some emojis and a love heart, but it’s been years since that last happened. Your brothers and sister would get posts on your mothers Facebook, and you got a happy birthday from a distant aunty you met once when you were 3.

Maybe this is why when you dry yourself and start your nighttime routine, you light the candle you bought yourself, and get changed into pyjamas you bought yourself, and you light a skinny colourful candle you bought yourself.

You don’t get the chance to blow it out before a tear extinguishes it.

A sob rakes through you. Even in these warm pyjamas surrounded by your favourite vanilla and citrus scent, you can’t seem to be happy with what you’ve got. That’s what your father would tell you every birthday until you were 11 - when the presents stopped rolling in.

Be grateful for the clothes you’ve already got, for the books you’ve already read, for the food you’ve already eaten.

Be grateful that your little sister can breathe to blow out your candles, that your brothers have hands to open your presents.

Be grateful.

You are grateful you got that part time job to move out so young, that you were accepted in the BAU and welcomed with open arms, that it gave you the financial stability to own your own apartment with windows to get rained on and bookshelves to fill.

The covers on your bed were darkening with every tear that dropped from your cheek. It was ruining your skincare.

A laugh escapes you, barely audible through your closing throat, before you hear a firm knock on your front door.

Slippers on, hair loose and messy, you opened the door with a frown. It was not the day nor time for any soliciting or girl scout cookies. But you stopped for a second and glanced at the time displayed on your oven. It was 11pm.

“Y/n? Are you awake?”

Your eyes widened at Spencer Reid’s voice, eyebrows furrowing and hand quick to twist the door knob.

“Spencer what are you-“

“Happy birthday?” A full teeth smile was plastered on his place, but you didn’t notice as his face was hidden by a vanilla cake and small bag with plastic casing over it.

Any other time Spencer would be welcome in, it would make sense today wouldn’t be any different. For gods sakes, he has a key to your front door - but when his smile fades and you feel the last tear drop catch on your socks, you rethink opening the door all together.

“Y/n… are you okay?”

You felt a pit of coal and ash stir in the bottom of your uneasy stomach. Your eyes flashed between his eyes and the cake, one last single tear dropping down your cheek.

Spencer caught it with his thumb, wiping it with a deep frown.

“I’m fine,” you stepped back to let him in, plastering an awkward smile on your face (something you hoped would say caught me!), “Sad movie, that’s all.”

“A sad movie on your birthday?” He set down the bag and cake on your kitchen countertop, concerned expression not lifting after your lie. You bit your lip as his eyes wandered the apartment.

He had been there a million times, but now he seemed to be profiling it.

There was an orange stained plate in the sink - probably your left overs, no indent on the couch nor movie playing on the TV. He peered into your bedroom to find a wrecked bed and slouched pillows, tissues splayed amongst the duvet.

You swallowed, feeling caught and trapped. There was no escaping this, Spencer was too good of a profiler.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” His eyes were a deep brown, glossy against his matte chocolate hair. He wore those glasses you liked, even when he insisted he hated how he looked in them. What a beautiful sight in such a sad situation.

You brought your left hand to your right elbow and shook your head, “It’s okay-“

“No it’s not.”

“Spencer, I’ve dealt with this for over 12 years. You get used to it.”

Spencer stood a metre away from you, eyes scanning you like he was trying to scrap the skin off your bones, see what was really going on.

And at that point, in your den of lies and self-pity, you felt no more rotten truths could hurt you more than you had hurt yourself. Spencer wasn’t much taller than you, but looking at him for this long at an angle was beginning to hurt more than your heart.

You grabbed the cake off of your counter top and smiled as if nothing wrong was happening, “Cake! You brought me cake.”

Spencer followed you into your living room awkwardly, “Yeah. It’s vanilla- I brought it because we didn’t eat at work today, nobody…”

Said Happy Birthday.

You nodded to yourself, patting the space beside you for Spencer to sit. “I know, it’s okay. It was a very busy day, I don’t blame them.” You undid the lid of the cake - obviously store bought - and took in your hand a wine glass that had stood empty for around half an hour. “Thank you, my favourite flavour is vanilla.”

“I know.” The tall boy let out a small smile then, but it quickly disappeared. He hated how you shrugged off such a devastating situation, how it meant nothing to you, how you claimed it had been like this for 12 years and not broken down.

“Y/n-“ Your loud sigh cut him off, stabbing the wine glass into the cake and lifting it, taking a bite of cake that slide out of the cup. The couch softened under your sudden slouch, Spencer faced you with his legs spread like a man.

Your eyes felt tight, chest collapsed. Nothing could be worse than this.

“My birthday is a week after my older brothers, so even when we did celebrate my birthday, it was small. And then one of my uncles passed away a few days after, and celebrating my birthday was seen as inappropriate.” You took another bite and talked through the frosting, “Instead at Christmas they let me choose which presents were for my birthday, many months late. I was grateful, that was all that mattered.”

Spencer moved closer and whispered, “Being grateful for neglect isn’t healthy, Y/n.”

“But it helped me, as a kid. As a girl who wanted to be loved so badly. When your siblings blow out your candles, and your cake is your sisters favourite flavour, all you can be is spiteful. And when I was, I was reprimanded. Be grateful, Y/n. At least you have siblings who can breathe and eat.”

You laughed after some time, Spencer’s mind racing at a hundred miles per minute.

“So I never told anyone my birthday. That’s why I showed up at the door looking like this,” you point to yourself and giggle, “I didn’t think anyone knew.”

“You look gorgeous.” He whispered, thigh touching yours on the plush couch. His hand lifted and skimmed your face, thumb moving to wipe a dot of frosting off of your lips. His hand fell.

“What’s in the bag?” You ask.

“Open it and see.” He replies.

What’s inside surprises you more than his initial arrival. It a medium sized glass bottle of perfume, with simple rinestones and gorgeous patterns engraved in it, a baby pink ribbon around its neck. The words were in french, the only words in english reading vanilla & citrus, in cursive writing.

A breath escaped you, your fingers tracing each detail like you were to memorise it. Spencer gulped as your eyes were glued to the writing and the shiny glass, how the liquid inside sloshed only slightly at every move.

“It is… do you like it?” He asks, turning his body towards yours trying to scope out your expression.

“I love it.” You mumble in awe.

“What?”

“I love it, thank you. Spencer, this is…” A wide smile escaped you, an incredulous giggle accompanying it. He let out a held breath and wove his shaking fingers through his hair. He was still at a loss for words at your previous confessions, but at least he made you happy, laugh.

Your eyes held each other for a moment, the room getting so suddenly small and hot.

“I…” you try to finish your sentence before you notice his gaze flickering to your lips, causing a small smile to appear.

“Happy birthday, Y/n. I’m sorry your birthdays were overlooked, I promise they won’t be anymore.” Spencer whispered, leaning in.

taglist (open!!) : @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #cm

615 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 3 days

Note

Hi 🥺 can I pretty please ask for a fic with emt!marauders treating and helping reader get through getting stitches? Maybe having a huge fear of needles and they always make her so faint and nauseous so the boys fix up their clumsy girl and coach her through getting them because it’s just the absolute worst time ever?

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting! These always get so long because I get wrapped up in the semantics haha. I don’t think this is an accurate reflection of how things work for paramedics, but for the purposes of fiction we’re gonna ignore that :3

Cw: needles, hospital, mention of nausea

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

James is murmuring what you imagine to be placations into the side of your head, so quietly you can’t make them out, and you’re doing your best to keep your hand completely still as a nurse cleans the cut on your palm.

Sirius is watching you from beside the small bed with tension written all over him. He’s digging his fingernails into his biceps and looking like he might actually jump the nurse if she makes a wrong move.

“Where’s Remus?” he asks, not for the first time.

“He’s just finishing up with another patient,” she answers again. “He’ll be here shortly.”

As eager as you are to see your boyfriend, dread curls like vines around your ribcage. James, sensing this, presses his lips to your temple.

Ordinarily, paramedics don’t handle stitches, but at your request and after some sweet-talking on James’ part, the director agreed to let Remus see to you. What was staunchly not allowed, however, was for anyone not currently on shift to step in, so your remaining two boyfriends are stuck providing emotional support. James seems to be taking this better, whereas Sirius has been antsy and overprotective since you’d arrived.

A fraction of the tautness in his biceps dissipates when a familiar set of quick footsteps draws closer on the tiled floor outside your curtain. The nurse is the only one who doesn’t seem to notice, the three of you perking up like meerkats the moment before Remus pulls back the curtain, stepping inside.

“Hi,” he says, a small, automatic smile curving his lips at the sight of all of you.

The nurse finishes with perfect timing, tossing the wipe into the trash as she starts to leave. You and Remus both thank her, and once the curtain closes the four of you in together everything feels suddenly more right. You hear James sigh softly.

Remus gets closer than he was willing with a colleague present, wrapping a kind hand around your elbow and soothing upward from there. “Hi, darling,” he says again, softer now. “They tell me you’ve had a kitchen accident.”

“Totally intentional,” James jokes. “We all just really missed you, needed an excuse to visit.”

You try to laugh for his sake, and though it’s not fully felt it still helps to loosen the knot of unease in your chest.

Remus smiles gently. His thumb strokes up and down the back of your arm. “How are you doing?” he asks you.

You do your best to smile back at him, though from Sirius’ expression it must not be very good. “Honestly? I already feel kind of nauseous.”

“That’s okay,” he promises, and you can tell he’s making his voice extra low and smooth on purpose. Any other time you might laugh at him for it, but actually it’s quite helpful. “It makes sense to be a bit nervous, yeah? But you won’t feel anything, and so long as you don’t look at it while I’m working I think we’ll be all right.”

Remus looks you in the eyes for a moment longer to make sure you understand. His eyes are the color of tea steeped just the way you like it, warm and honey-sweet. And maybe you’re feeling vulnerable and mushy, but you think you fall a little more in love with him.

You nod, letting him take your injured hand.

“I have to numb it,” he warns you, “and that will likely be the hardest part, but once it’s done things will go fairly easily. Okay?”

You press your lips together, nodding again not because you want to but because you know you don’t have much choice. James readjusts his hold on you, gripping you tightly with one arm around your shoulders and the other folding your head into his chest. You suspect it’s partly to keep you from moving and partly because he knows you need it, but it feels as though he’s just doing his best to give you a continual hug. You appreciate the effort.

You follow the movement of Remus’ hand as he picks up a syringe from the tray the nurse had brought in. There’s that odd tingly feeling of the blood draining from your face, the awful queasiness in your stomach.

“Don’t look,” Sirius tells you, voice just as caring as it is tense. You can tell he’s trying to calm himself for your sake, even if he’s not very good at it. You’ve heard from James and Remus that he’s cool as a cucumber when he works with other patients, but when it’s you or someone he cares about he can’t help getting a bit rattled. “You’re okay, baby, just close your eyes. Think of something else.”

You can manage the first but not the second. When you feel Remus shifting his hold on your hand your breaths shallow.

“Quick poke,” he murmurs, and your grip on James tightens as his does on you.

Though you think you’re prepared for it, a mortifying pained sound rises in your throat at the sting. Both James and Sirius coo sympathetically, but then it’s done, and Remus is murmuring praises while James presses kiss after kiss into your hair.

You open your eyes to find Sirius has moved closer. He passes you a vomit bag, and you take it thankfully, trying to breathe through the closure in your throat.

“You’ve got it,” he tells you, brows knit together by both sympathy and concern. “You’re okay, it’s already over with.”

“I don’t really feel like I’m completely out of the woods,” you try to joke. The truth to it tightens something in you nonetheless.

“You won’t even feel the rest,” James assures you, still with his lips stuck to you like it’s his job. He smells nice, his eucalyptus shampoo cutting through the icky hospital scent. “You’ll hardly know it’s happening, lovie, we’ll just talk about other things and be out of here before you know it.”

“I really don’t want to faint,” you say. “I feel like today has been bad enough without fainting.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” says Remus. You’ve been avoiding looking at him, wary of catching sight of another needle or worsening your nausea by seeing your cut, but his gloved hands are empty. He cradles your injured hand in one, the other drawing a tranquilizing path up and down the side of your thigh. “You won’t faint, sweetheart. We’ll do our best to keep you distracted, and if you need to take breaks we can do that. It’s whatever you need.”

You blow out a long breath, nodding. Remus gives you a small smile.

“I only ask that you don’t hold any of this against me,” he teases. “I’m going to require lots of assurance that you’re not upset when I get home.”

James coos, sounding like he’s considering pulling Remus into your hug as well.

“No, I know this is all my own fault,” you admit. Sirius huffs his agreement. “I could never hold my clumsiness against you.”

“I appreciate that.” Remus sends Sirius an intrigued look. “Though maybe I’ll have to make it up to you by cooking, since it seems like you could be barred from the kitchen for some time. Can you feel that?”

You blink at him. “Feel what?”

“Good.”

Remus starts messing with things on the tray again, and both James and Sirius seem to come to attention, James putting his arm around your head again while Sirius pulls up a chair by the bed.

“The medicine’s working,” Remus tells you, “so I’m going to go ahead and get started, okay? Just try and relax for me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes go automatically to what he’s doing, but Sirius says sharply, “Hey.”

That gets your attention, and he gives you an apologetic look, gentling his tone as he takes your good hand.

“Just look at me,” he tells you. You don’t know if he knows it, but his thumb is tracing a line below your thumb that’s exactly where your cut is on your other palm. “Are you okay to talk, pretty girl?”

You hum. It comes out high-pitched and shakier than you would’ve expected.

“Why don’t you tell us about that book you want Remus to read?”

For a moment, surprise eclipses your anxiety. “You really wanna hear about that?”

Sirius grins. “No, but you’ve got a captive audience. If I were you I’d seize my chance.”

You start to smile back at him, but then there’s an odd tugging sensation on your hand. Sirius notices the change, moving to block your view with his hand before you can look towards Remus’ work. Still, your stomach rolls uneasily. Your head feels unnaturally light.

Sirius says your name firmly. “Tell us about the book, baby.”

“It’s…” You fight to solidify your thoughts. “It’s a true story.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I thought it was fiction, but it’s not.” Another tug, and you whimper. “Sorry, I don’t feel well.”

“You’re doing great,” James says, and Sirius takes the bag from you, opening it up in case you need it. “Just stay relaxed, we’ve got you.”

“What’s the true story?” Sirius asks, trying to get you back on task. “What’s it about?”

“This guy,” you answer. “He’s from Syria, but he lives in New Orleans and he’s there when Hurricane Katrina hits. I’m not that far in, but so far it’s about, like—” you swallow “—how he’s discriminated against even when he’s helping people.”

Though you try to stop it, a tear skids down your cheek. Sirius wipes it away gently. “Yeah?” he asks you. “Are you liking it so far?”

You nod, feeling more in your own body as you try to focus on the conversation. Even the panic is a bit of a relief, better than the strange weightlessness of your head when you’re on the brink of passing out.

“I don’t think I would have picked it up if I’d known it was nonfiction,” you tell Sirius. He smiles wryly, which looks like it takes effort. “I usually only read fiction, but this was done really well.”

“I think you’re right,” he replies. “Remus absolutely should read that.”

“Not you?” James teases.

Sirius shoots a mean look over your head, though you can tell he’s relieved at the familiar banter. “Are you volunteering?” he asks James. “No? Didn’t think so.”

“Surely there’s a movie version we can watch instead. Lovie, do you know?”

“I haven’t heard of one,” you admit, “but the book’s a bit older, so maybe the movie came out before I’d heard about it.”

“We’ll have to look it up,” Sirius decides. “If it’s really that good, there’ll be a movie.”

That’s something you could argue about forever, and he knows it, but just then you hear something snip and Remus says, “There.”

“There?” you echo.

Sirius looses a breath, and James hugs you tightly. “You’re all done, angel,” he says brightly.

“Oh.” You feel, perhaps, not as relieved as you ought to, and Sirius chuckles at your confusion, taking your face between his hands and planting a kiss between your brows.

“You really are done,” he promises you. “You killed it, babe.”

James loosens his grip on you and Sirius moves his hand, letting you turn your head to see Remus securing a bandage over your palm. He looks up at you when he pulls off his gloves, pride and fondness mingled in his expression. His eyes narrow at the look on your face.

“Hug?” he guesses, and you nod as you sit forward, wrapping your hands around his shoulders.

It’s the closure you need, relief dissolving the tension in your muscles and gut as Remus’ thumb strokes your nape reassuringly. “Thanks,” you mumble into his shoulder.

“You did it, darling,” he tells you. “Nothing to thank me for.”

“Before I bled all over our counter, I was cutting tomatoes for pasta tonight,” you say. “I’ll finish it up when I get home so I can thank you with dinner.”

Sirius scoffs loudly. “Yeah, fat chance. You’re not going near another knife for the rest of your life.”

You roll your eyes as you pull away from Remus, but he raises an eyebrow at you, smiling faintly. “I’m with him on this one,” he says. “At least a temporary kitchen ban is in order.”

You groan, leaning sideways until your shoulder rests on James’ chest. He wraps his arms around you automatically. “You guys are so lame,” you gripe.

“Don’t worry, lovie,” says James, kissing the side of your nose lightly. “I’ll finish your pasta when we get home. Everybody wins.”

522 notes · View notes

kenntolog · 2 days

Text

𝝑𝝔 an: i don’t really like this much :( im feeling so sick ngl reader is me i am reader, just need me a boyfie like sukuna here :((( anyways, i posted this because i felt the pressure to do it sk bare with me please!! i love you all <33 read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!

so you’ve been silent through the whole day, which has been bothering sukuna whenever he was reminded of it. nervously checking his phone at practice every chance he got, which got his teammates interested in whatever the hell happened that got him so invested in his phone(only toji tbh). his mind being focused on you instead of the upcoming game which reflected greatly on his practice and made everyone worried.

sukuna just waved them off and continued calling you with no results and texting you, which also got him nowhere. so of course, he decided to check on you after being done with university.

no one answers your door, radio silence, which leads sukuna to taking out the poorly hidden spare keys from under the fake plant and going in, still uninvited but determined to find you. he calls your name a few times, walking around the rooms with a frown on his face. the sight that greets him when he enters your room is even more confusing than your silence throughout the day.

a big pile of blankets on your bed. the longer he stares at it the clearer he can see the faint movement of it — slowly up and slowly down, up and down. he approaches it, looking over only to find a tuft of your hair peeking out from under it.

“what the hell..?” he mutters under his nose while his hands tug down the blanket to reveal your face.

even in your sleep you manage to frown and you only do that when you’re not feeling well, so sukuna leans in closer, sensing the heat radiating from you, and touches your forehead with his lips, eyes widening at how hot you feel. “the fuck happened to you?”

you blink sleepily before opening your eyes and looking up at him for a few seconds. sukuna sits down by your side, hands caressing your face gently as he inspects your condition quickly, “what’s up, loser?”

you say his name, yet he can barely hear it before you start coughing and turn away from him. he can see your face scrunch in pain; his heart squeezes in his chest when you lie back and this time your lips wobble slightly as you mouth his name, barely audible, “‘kuna~ think ‘m sick~”

“yea, no shit.” he rolls his eyes with no real annoyance in them. “let’s make you feel better, yeah, baby?”

you nuzzle into his palm and he smiles gently at you… until you unintentionally sneeze right into it, leaving slimy boogers and gross spit, and sukuna’s eye twitches as he tries to contain his curses.

of course, first thing sukuna does — calls his older brother jin, because the former doesn’t even remember the last time he got sick and jin always knows what to do, especially in a situation like this since little yuuji hasn’t developed the best immune system yet.

“are you sure you can take care of her properly?” jin asks worriedly from the other end of the line, causing sukuna to roll his eyes.

“have some faith in me, will you?” jin only sighs, barely listening to him as he writes down the list of various medicine and things he must buy to make you feel better. yet, he still catches his younger brother’s almost incoherent mumbling. “i can take care of her like no other.”

“then do just that.”

sukuna hums and presses end call, continuing to look through your kitchen cabinet full of different medicines in hopes of finding whatever the hell jin sent him.

you’re not a very obedient person when you’re sick though, he notices. sukuna can tell you’re still a bit hazed from the high body temperature and trying to sleep it off without any care, yet the sickness makes you more stubborn than ever.

and he can’t find it in himself to push you around when your body is hurting and muscles are sore from spasming in an attempt to warm up. so he just lets you sit on the chair in the kitchen, wrapped tightly in your blanket, dazedly watching him make you some soup.

he feeds you the soup himself, too, agreeing a little begrudgingly of course. you whine a bit with that pitiful broken voice of yours and he just gives in because your eyes are watery and your lips wobble, and he is just a weak man around you. don’t judge him!

sukuna is so caring, though, it makes you fall in love with him all over again. he’s a bit clumsy when it comes to cooking you stuff and making you curing beverages; rough around his the edges about his timing and maybe a little too annoyed with your childish antics, yet never showing it directly like he usually does.

watching your favourite movies and shows with you, when he’d usually just shit on your taste and choose something of his own(which you also eventually like, but nonetheless get angry at him). getting invested in them too — just so he can entertain you afterwards and take your mind off of your ill state.

not commenting on your messy state; sweaty hair sticking to your forehead, complains about cold when changing your equally sweaty shirts to clean ones, whines about the tea being too hot or the syrup being too gross(okay, that one kinda angers him he just shoves the spoon in your mouth to make you drink it since you wouldn’t do it yourself).

he also sleeps with you later that night, ignoring your warnings about him getting sick too :(( holds you tight, shares his body heat and wakes up every now and then to check if you’ve sweated any more.

needless to say, you feel a lot better the next morning!! all thanks to sukuna.

(also he gets sick a day after, but don’t ask about that pls heh).

#— miya writes!#jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna ryomen fluff #ryomen sukuna x you

742 notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 1 day

Note

hiiii!!! im not too sure if requests are open, if they arent please just ignore this!!!!! i really really loveeeee the way u write angst!😭✌️ could i please request blade, dr ratio, aventurine and sunday reacting to finding their loved one on the floor barely alive? UGHHHH I IMAGINE THE SHOCK AND FEAR AND BREATHLESSNESS aqhjddkkxnsk

thank u smmm!!!!!😭🩷🩷

Aventurine

Didn’t think it was possible to physically feel his heart being ripped from his chest anymore then it already had, until he spotted your bruised and barely conscious body lying on the floor in a way that made his blood become ice cold.

‘No.’ He whispered to himself in disbelief as a tight feeling blossomed within his chest. It felt as though he was being painfully constricted or squeezed tightly by an invisible hand, a feeling that only grew worse with every step he made towards you until he was finding it hard to breathe.

‘No.’ Aventurine whispers again, not wanting to think of anything that he was seeing before him as real but more of a realistic nightmare. ‘Please don’t take them away from me, I’ll have nobody left.’ He pleads as he drops to his knees and struggled with unsteady hands to pull your body towards him and holding you tightly in his arms as he rests his head against your chest, desperate and hopeful of hearing your heart beat as proof that you were alive.

‘Haven’t you taken enough from me!!?’ Aventurine screamed at the top of his lungs, staring up at the ceiling as though the Aeons would hear the rage, the heartbreak and the pain within his voice. ‘Haven’t I suffered enough by your hand?! You have taken everything and everyone I have ever loved and now you think you can take from me again just because you feel like it!?!’ He continued to scream, letting everything he’s kept inside out as rivers of tears streamed down his cheeks, blurring his vision of you as he looked down at you as he felt his soul cry out for yours.

Everything within Aventurine was hurting and it was hurting like hell but that didn’t loosen his hold on you one bit, if anything it made him tighten it, almost as though he was the only thing stopping the deities from claiming your soul as theirs. Aventurine would fight them to keep you if he must and he didn’t care what the consequences of doing this would be, his left hand was more unsteady then ever as it desperately grasped for your hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing; letting out a whimper when he didn’t feel you squeeze his hand back like you always did to reassure him that you were not going anywhere.

‘Please.’ Aventurine begged as he pressed his forehead against your own, not wanting to walk through this life if the one person who stood by his side wasn’t going to be there. ‘Don’t take them away from me, not now, I don’t want to be alone anymore.’

Sunday

He’s seething and seeing red.

He’s unable to contain his anger as he rushed to your side, clasping your hand tightly between his own, as though he could transfer some of his strength to you in hopes it would allow him to look in your pretty eyes again.

‘My love, I beg of you, tell me who did this to you.’ He pleads as could only watch your body with a sense of hopelessness and desperation for a sign. ‘Tell me who did this to you and I shall make them pay tenfold.’ He adds as his anger became harder and harder for him to conceal, how could he possibly keep his composure when you had been attacked because of your ties to him? Someone was out to get him but did so through underhanded means rather than direct confrontation and for that Sunday couldn’t help but think of a multitude of ways to capture this cowardly assailant for harming you.

When you did not answer him Sunday felt parts of his sanity begin to slip away as his breath hitched in his throat and his hands tightened on yours. ‘My love I beg of you to stay with me, for I cannot loose you now nor ever, I forbid you from leaving me this way. I cannot breathe without you, I cannot smile without you, for you are my lifeline in every sense of the word.’ He says as he felt the colour in his life begging to fade from view and become monochrome.

You were the colour in his life, you always have been, and without you he couldn’t see the beauty nor value in anything anymore as you were the most valuable thing to him. Sunday felt himself grow cold with every second they passed where you didn’t do anything to tell him that you were okay, all reason had left him as revenge took it’s place and almost as though a switch had been flipped within his head, Sunday stopped crying as his face became a blank slate.

‘I’ll keep you safe my beloved.’ He said as he lifted you in his arms. ‘You’ll never have to worry about anything else ever again once I bring back the person who did this to you at your feet, pleading for mercy and to spare their pathetic life.’ He then presses a kiss to your forehead as he looked ahead with a pair of dead, unfeeling eyes. ‘I promise this to you and so much more, just you wait my heart, I shall gaze upon your eyes soon enough.’

Ratio

He kind of internally shuts down upon seeing you laying on the floor, barely alive.

He stands there for prolonged periods of time not saying anything but it was clear within his eyes that Veritas was struggling to comprehend the situation before him in a logical manner.

Everything was quiet as though someone had just removed all sound out of the room and all he could focus on was the fact that you were barely moving, barely breathing but the expression on your face made it seem as though you were in a peaceful slumber. Veritas would soon snap himself out of his own mind and made his way towards you before kneeling by your side, he then placed two fingers to the pulse point in your neck and letting out a uneven sigh when he felt your pulse beat softly against his fingertips.

He hasn’t even noticed that he had been crying until he felt something wet hit his clothed thigh and reached up to touch his cheeks that were wet with the trail his tears had left. Nothing felt real yet everything was becoming too much for the scholar as felt himself actively trying to disassociate from everything as a way of dealing with the possibility of you dying.

His body is wracked with fear of an uncertain future as he kept his fingers glued to your pulse as a way as to ground himself in the reality that you were still alive despite what your current state looked like. He remained by your side silently, not a single word left his lips as he remembered your last conversation, it wasn’t pretty and a few unsavoury words were exchanged before you left his office with a heavy heart.

Veritas felt partially guilty for your current state even though everyone knew he had no part in it but he felt guilty regardless for how things were left between you two. He regretted not apologising for his blunt words and harsh criticism earlier, and now he had to deal with the horrible idea that that could’ve been your last ever conversation you had with him, along with the idea that you thought he might’ve hated you as you were left alone in a empty room after having been attacked in what you believed were your final moments.

Something of which that wasn’t true at all, Veritas loved you dearly and held you close to his heart whenever you were apart, finding himself longing to come back to your side and fall asleep together within the comfort of each others arms. However that didn’t mean much when he could barely hold you without touching a wound by accident and keeping his hands to himself for the rest of the day in fear of hurting you further.

Veritas had never felt such raw fear in his life until you were almost taken from him and on such negativity terms too. Something he wishes to never experience ever again.

Blade

Death refused to claim him and so it decided to try and stake its claim over you -the one person whom Blade cared deeply for -which didn’t sit right with Blade as he wordlessly held you in his arms, his jaw clenching at the sound of your pained whimpers.

‘Death won’t have you,’ he began, ‘I won’t allow it to because if it refuses to give me what I have been long since owed, then I will keep you from its clutches for as long as I can until it submits to our whims.’ Blade then kisses your forehead. ‘I will not let it claim you when you have so much to do, whereas I on the other hand, have nothing left ahead of me.’

Blade hated seeing you hurt but this only made him want to hunt down whoever did this to you and make them pay with their life, but he knew he couldn’t leave you on the assumption that they might come back and finish you off when he turned his back, so he stays by your side like a guard dog with his hand at the hilt of his sword constantly as he awaited for help.

Blade never thought he’d find himself in a situation where he wished death didn’t come, especially when that person was you because you were his guiding light, his only love and he would do anything to keep you safe and protected from all harm that came your way; even if that meant denying death to have your soul.

In comparison to him, you had so much more to offer and so much to accomplish in life, and Blade knew he would never forgive himself if he were to let you die before you even saw the fruit of your labour with your own two eyes. He wanted you to reach the stars and see that all your work wasn’t for nothing and then see you reach heights that he could only dream of touching.

He didn’t care what happened to him, he could heal as fast as he was hurt but you, you couldn’t heal like he could and the wounds that littered your body would become scars, scars that would look similar to his own that reminded you of what you had survived by the skin of your teeth. Blade didn’t want to loose you to something he could’ve easily prevented from happening, he felt as though he had failed you and for that he couldn’t forgive himself for what happened to you, calling it a mishap on his behalf in ever leaving you unguarded.

So now he stayed close to you, hand at the hilt of his sword, tempting fate to try and take you away from him again.

505 notes · View notes

bueckers · 3 days

Text

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ━━━ 𝐏𝐁

a/n | hiii! new blog but not new to wbb or writing, i’m infact true to this! masterlist & blog introduction soon but i thought i’d get a fic out first (this is lowkey long but bare with me).

summary | in which the pleasure elicits a confession.

warning(s) | smut with plot! fingering, fear of being caught, praising, pet names, scissoring, some angst at the end, idk paige is absolutely obsessed with you..

pairing | paige bueckers x fem reader

You hadn’t particularly expected yourself to get sexually involved with the star athlete of UConn, but it kinda just happened.

You’d met Paige Bueckers through Azzi Fudd during yours and hers junior year. Hitting it off with her and the team was no problem. You got along with everyone and it was one of the many qualities that could be admired, but Paige found a sense of comfort with you.

During the start of her recovery, she found it hard to go back to going out like she used to. But the one night she’d decided to make an appearance for the first time since tearing her ACL, she met you and it changed everything. You had morals that changed her perspective, a bright smile that lured her in, and confidence that wasn’t too cocky to be deemed unattractive. You were everything.

From hangouts with the group to study sessions and finally hanging out alone, you found yourselves entirely comfortable with one another. So much so that the team had gotten so used to seeing you together, that they asked where the other was when you were by yourself.

One night when Paige had decided to stay over at your dorm, you’d been wrapped up in a conversation about relationships and the complexity that came with them. You both had similar ideas just like you did on nearly everything. Paige not being able to really commit to anybody with her busy schedule, and you just simply not being into dating. It never went well for you. The last girl fucked up and if there was one thing you always got sick of, it was waiting for people to change.

An idea sparked your mind, and just like always, you spoke it. It was a suggestion that would possibly change your dynamic forever, but as Paige watched the words slip out of your mouth and your eyes dart between her lips and eyes; something you always did but it seemed different this time, she couldn’t say no. It felt like a bad idea. She really liked you and wasn’t sure where that would lead the two of you, but she would’ve taken any part of you she could get her hands on.

Now, a little less than a year later, it was safe to say your dynamic had changed. Completely. Paige was at the highest point in her career, her popularity only expanding just everyday. Your casual sex continued, but the more intimate you got, the more Paige found it hard to deny the feelings she felt for you. She distanced herself. You didn’t talk the way you used to and surely didn’t hangout the way you used to, because those hangouts always turned into more.

You missed Paige. You had her but you didn’t have her, and although you knew what your suggestion would bring, you still couldn’t pinpoint why she couldn’t open up to you anymore. Why she avoided conversing with you alone. It was an abrupt change from the comfortability she’d showed when everything first started, exploring each other in ways past imagination because that’s what the agreement was for. But everything changed so quickly, and Paige found more meaning in the words she whispered while reaching her high, more meaning in the flirty jokes, and more meaning in your lingering gazes. She over-analyzed everything, and it was fucking driving her crazy.

Nobody knew. You couldn’t even fix your lips to tell Azzi how you’d been hooking up with her best friend. You were sure everyone had an idea though; paige could hide a lot of things physically but the glint in her eyes when she looked at you was undeniable, and although KK and a few others had pointed it out jokingly, you two brushed it off like it was nothing.

Currently, you’d been sitting at a table with some of the team members at the bar. It had been getting late despite you only being on your second drink and not feeling a bit of it, engrossed in a conversation with Aubrey about all kinds of things. Sometimes you wished you were a lightweight.

A few minutes later, Paige slid onto the stool next to you, but you didn’t acknowledge her. You hadn’t talked to her in a little bit over a week, and finally decided that if she wanted to play the distant game, you would too. She seemed a little tipsy to you, her continuous movements you caught in the corner of your eye proving so. You could admit she looked good when she first walked in. She must’ve worn braids to practice or something because her wavy locks had been flowing over her broad shoulders, a look she knew you fell weak to.

Your attention averted at the sound of Azzi’s voice. “I’m heading out!” She announced loud enough for her friends to hear. They bid her with goodbyes as you began to gather your things, stopping at the feeling of Paige’s hand creeping up on your thigh. She turned to you, a look on your face that you could’ve mistakened for a slight pout.

“I wanna take you home,” was as all she said, and your eyebrows furrowed for a moment. You understood her words, but found it hard to comprehend as her thumb began stroking the crease dangerously close to your center.

Regaining composure, you cleared your throat. “‘S okay. I rode with Az, she can take me home,” You replied almost sharply. You didn’t question her silence over the past week, not in the mood to cause a scene; just responded like everything was normal, yet one thing you could never hide was an attitude.

As you turned to get up, content with the few words exchanged, Paige twirled your stool back around to her with her opposite hand, stopping you. “I wanna take you home,” She stated again, her voice low but firm. You knew Azzi had been stalling as she waited for you, so as you locked eyes with Paige’s piercing blue hues, you knew what you had to do. What felt right but so wrong.

Averting your gaze, you whipped your head to Azzi’s direction, immediately catching her eye and jerking your head to the side slightly to indicate that Paige would be taking care of you (in more ways than one). She gave you a knowing look, causing you to roll your eyes and spin back around to Paige. She had her suspicions, but they weren’t confirmed so it didn’t matter.

As soon as you did so, Paige easily stepped down from the barstool, grabbing your hand so she could help you down, a bigger challenge for your height. “We’re heading out too,” She stated simply, and the crew eyed your exchange, little chuckles escaping their lips. The entire group had their conspiracies about you two, simply because they’d never seen Paige act like this around any other girl.

Saying your goodbyes, you hadn’t realized Paige’s hand still interlocked with yours as she looked around the bar, seemingly antsy and ready to go as you said goodbye to her teammates. As you dragged her out, she glanced down at your hands, quick to pull them apart and cover it up by reaching to slip her lanyard out of her pocket, the ringing of the keys interrupting the silence.

You only stared at her a second longer before sighing, licking your lips as you crossed your arms. Your position didn’t falter the entire way there, and the walk from the campus bar to Paige’s dorm felt like ages.

“Is there a reason for that lil’ attitude you got?” Paige chirped, the two of you barely making it through the door as she walked in before you, her back turned as she flung her keys to the counter. You scrunched your face up as you shut the door behind you, your arms finally uncrossed.

“What are you talking about?” You asked in fake oblivion. You were aware of the sharpness in your tone when you first replied to her. Your demeanor the whole walk here even.

Paige only chuckled, turning around swiftly as she leaned against the island. “Heard it there too,” she said, pointing out the way you’d responded. “I do something?”

It was your turn to chuckle, audibly shocked that she had the nerve to even ask such a thing. “How’d you decide that tonight was the perfect night to have sex with me again after ignoring me for a week?” You ask rhetorically, a smile on your face. You wanted to punch the stupid smirk off of hers. She was too cocky for her own good, and you knew your words would only ignite that trait.

“If you wanted me sooner you could’ve hit me up, you know this,” She replied, her arms now crossed over her chest as her tongue swarmed her mouth. She was amused.

You scoffed, walking closer as you spoke which was something you tended to do when you were upset. You got in people’s faces. “That’s not the point, Paige.” You stuttered out, looking for the right words. Only Paige could make your normally nimble-minded self stutter at such a comeback.

Her eyes scanned your face. “Then what is the point, mama?” Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden pet name. This girl knew you in and out and she was using it to her advantage. It hurt, but you blamed yourself.

You stopped in front of her, trying not to let her looks get the best of you as you bit down on your lip. “You’ve been distant,” you mumbled, avoiding her gaze as you stared at the ground. You felt pathetic— something you’d only felt a few days out of the year. It was rare. “And I hate it.” You finally emphasized, peering up at Paige who seemed to have lost any of her previous confidence at your words.

Her lips were plump and parted as she stared at you. It was enough to know you’d noticed and that you cared, but she didn’t want to address it, she wanted to kiss you. In one swift motion, she dropped her arms to their respective places, like a default and they knew where to go: one gripping your waist like her life depended on it, and the other cupping your face like she was being handed something she was told to take care of.

Your body trembled as you softened underneath her, your lips automatically moving against hers as you used all your pent-up emotions to keep up with her. You’d forgotten all about your said attitude and the way Paige had totally dismissed the conversation, but right now, it was the last thing you cared about.

Her tongue slipped into your mouth, eliciting a whine from you at the quickness that made Paige’s knees buck. She loved to hear you. She loved any sound you made. You made her weak.

“Can never get e-fucking-nough of you,” she breathed out, the comment more to herself. It was words like these that made you question how casual your hooking up was. She got so poetic and warm in the world of sex with you, and you loved it. It didn’t matter if she was praising or belittling you because you would eat it up every damn time.

Your hands roam through the waves of her hair, finding a spot that you comfortably grip and tug, the motion causing Paige’s lips to part from yours as her head tilted back slightly. You brought your lips down to her jaw, peppering kisses down the line and to her neck as you held her by her hair, Paige smiling above you. It always started like this— a constant fight for dominance that Paige always won. It was why she’d been smiling so hard.

It didn’t take long for you to find that good spot of hers, her smile instantly becoming a face of pure satisfaction as you sucked a light hickey onto her neck within seconds. You never did that because you knew Paige would only have to cover it up, but it felt right.

As Paige’s hands hooked under your legs and hoisted you up, you yelped, following the gesture with a giggly laugh that Paige couldn’t help but crack a smile at. She missed you. “Tired of standing,” she mumbled, carrying you to her bedroom. During the short way there, your lips had found her face again, never getting enough of all of the places you could leave a wet, sensual peck.

Setting you down at the edge of the bed, Paige turned around so she could shut and lock the door. She slid her UConn sweatshirt off in the process, pivoting back to you as you sat there in all your glory, laid back on your elbows. Paige immediately got to work, pulling off your pants as she hovered over you, her bottom lip sitting snug in between her teeth.

Glancing up at her, you immediately wanted her closer as she took them off painfully slow, and as soon as she was done throwing them into a corner of her room, she didn’t have any time to fully turn her head before you were pulling her into you, kissing her eagerly for the second time that night.

Her hands roamed beneath your engulfed bodies as her mind already knew where everything was without having to look. If there was one thing she learned from having sex with you, it was your body. She knew it as if it were a topic she’d studied for hours. Her fingers glided over your clothed cunt, causing your body to squirm at the unexpected touch.

She smiled into the kiss at your reaction and the feeling of your wetness, her body falling next to you as she propped herself up with her elbow. She pushed the fabric to the side with two fingers, her lips continually moving against yours as she circled your clit. Without warning, she pushed her two middle fingers into you. You never needed much foreplay because of how wet you got so easily, but that was a gift only Paige received.

You instantly pulled away from the blonde at the feeling, your head glancing down to her moving fingers as your mouth fell agape. Paige’s hooded eyes stared at the side of your face as your head eventually settled back onto her leaned arm with a gasp. She licked her lips, looking at the way her fingers moved in and out of you so effortlessly. “Look, baby. Doin’ so good for me.” She praised, your moans sounding like music to her ears as your eyes fluttered shut.

Suddenly, she curled her fingers, eliciting a loud, pornographic moan from the depths of your throat. “I told you to look,” she stated firmly. You opened your eyes slowly but surely as Paige lifted her arm underneath you so your head was at an elevated angle to see the bottom half of your body, and you swore you would come simply at the sight and Paige’s strength that had been showcased from her holding you. “So fuckin’ pretty,” she cooed. Another praise. Paige never cursed, but when she got in bed with you, it was inevitable.

“I’m gonna come, baby,” you told her, and although your mind had been completely fucked out, you were still good at picking out the things Paige got weak about, which realistically would be everything, including when you called her baby.

Her breathing picked up, the room becoming hot. “Yeah? Can’t wait any longer?” Paige questioned, and you automatically shook your head through moans, turning to look at Paige who had her eyes locked on you. She took a snapshot of you with her eyes, a picture she would frame in the Louvre if given the chance.

“N-no. Can’t wai— fuck!” You came undone on Paige’s fingers with a loud groan as her pace quickened inside of you, your juices coating her fingers. She couldn’t revert her gaze from your glistening cunt and the way it reflected on her slender hands, getting an urge to taste you, yet she held off.

Your chest heaved as she slowed down, a noise being made as she slipped out of you. You laid back once more despite the fact that Paige’s arm must’ve fallen asleep by now, watching through half-shut eyes as her fingers came into view. She shoved them into your mouth, her lips parting as she tilted her head slightly and watched you lick your own slick.

“Mmm,” she mumbled, nearly drooling as you grabbed her hand with your own, pushing her digits further into your mouth. You indulged at your own pace, peering up at her, knowing the thrill it would give her. Your tongue slid between the two fingers, working its way to slurp everything off. Finally, Paige had enough.

She forced her fingers out of your mouth, sliding out with a pop because of how tight you’d wrapped around them. She got up and made her way around the bed, settling with her back against the headboard. You followed her there with a crawl, laying in between her slightly spread legs as you leaned into kiss her. As your lips moved, you felt the urge for more, pulling away abruptly. Catching your breath, Paige couldn’t control her own as she looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What?” She breathed out, her hands still cupping your cheeks.

You looked down, your head moving in between her cupped hands. “Too many clothes.” You panted, prompting a smile from Paige who was quick to lift her hips up, your bottom halves crashing for a moment as she slipped her sweatpants off, throwing them off the side of the bed. You followed suit with your shirt, leaving you in a lacy, purple bra that made your tits look fucking phenomenal.

Paige leaned back against the headboard, taking in the sight as you sat up before her, teasingly running your hand up the strap of your bra while you looked down. You knew what you were doing, purple is Paige’s favorite color. Eventually, you brought both hands to the clasp in the back, finally glancing at Paige who seemed to be stuck in a daze. You smirked slightly, not tearing your eyes away from her as your tits fell from its holder, and Paige was ready to dive into you.

“C’mere.” Her voice was husk as she whispered for you to come closer, and you obeyed, crawling back to your previous position between her legs with a smirk. Thinking Paige was going to kiss you once more, you brought your lips closer to her, but she dipped her head to your collarbone, her mouth immediately getting to work as you moaned softly, bringing your hand up to play with her hair.

She began sucking, and you swore you started to feel dizzy. You glanced down at the pink-ish mark forming on your skin above the place she’d now been getting to work on, making you a bit confused in the mist of your heavy breathing before you glanced down at the spot on Paige’s neck that had now been a dark purple color. You didn’t think she’d noticed, but obliviously she had. Paige knew it wouldn’t be a good look to her friends, but she didn’t care. It was fair game and she couldn’t resist you.

She then moved down, beginning to fondle with your breasts. She massaged one with one hand, attaching her lips to the other, her tongue swarming your nipple. “Missed you so much.” You whimpered, bringing your hand around to tuck her hair behind her ear, getting a good sight of her. How pretty she looked beneath you like this was all you could think about.

A few moments later, she pulled her lips away, seemingly content with the work she’d done. She hastily pulled her boxers down afterwards, you following eagerly with your soaked panties, the same ones Paige hadn’t even bothered to pull down when fingering you. Just as the two of you tangled your legs together, your beating cunts an inch away from igniting the longing pleasure, the jingle of keys and distinct chatter interrupted the moment, making you whip your head around towards the door.

You could make out the voices of Amari and Ice, realizing they must’ve left a little bit after you and Paige. The walls were too thin for this.

Without notice, Paige pressed her bottom half into you, making you moan out. She was quick to cover your mouth before you could yourself, your eyebrows furrowing through pleasure and fear of being caught. “You know I love hearin’ you but you’re gonna have to be quiet for me, baby, okay?” she whispered, making you nod. Although the chances of being caught were high because of the unlocked door, the warmth of Paige’s clit hitting yours over and over was enough to make you forget about all of that.

You moved against her in a way Paige thought was painfully slow, a bead of sweat already forming at the top of her head as you both couldn’t tear your eyes away from where your bodies interlocked. She brought you down to her face, peppering soft kisses to your lips as you could barely build up the strength to kiss her back, all of it going into the way you moved.

Through low curses and pants, you finally mustered the strength to move your hand to Paige’s cunt, her reaction resulting in her dropping the hand previously over your mouth, her bones feeble. “Shit, keep going,” Paige murmured, her words enough to make you speed up your motions. Your hips bucked back and forth on her, whining as you tried to get as much as friction as possible.

Paige’s hands shot down to your waist, gripping them as she admired the way her fingers molded into your skin. They trailed down to your ass, her head tilting to the side a bit so she could get a good view of the way you looked from behind. She couldn’t quite fathom how you looked good in every position.

Dazed and breathless, you both felt your high bubbling within you as you continuously moved, the sound and smell of sex filling the room. “Paige, I’mmm.. fu— almost..” you could barely get any words out, but the blonde could make out what you were trying to say as she pushed her hips up further, getting any resistance she could.

“I’m right with you, fuck,” Paige dragged her words out, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to hold off a little longer, but she physically couldn’t. Her stamina was a bit better than yours overall because she was an athlete, but tonight she wasn’t holding off.

You leaned down to rest your head in the nape of Paige’s neck, the slightly new angle pushing you both over the edge. You felt intoxicated as you came undone, Paige’s center never giving the throbbing a rest as she came right with you like she’d promised. “Sh-shit.” Paige’s voice had gotten high for the first time that night. “I love you so fuckin’ much, fuck.” Paige admitted, her words rushed out. You only panted, bringing your head up to rest against her forehead as your chests heaved and you both stopped moving. Paige opened her eyes at your touch, only being able to stare into your eyes for so long— caught in a different universe as your lips hovered over hers.

Still breathless, Paige managed to wrap her arms around you and set you down next to her, your wet, sweaty body hitting her sheets. Coming down from the sacred high and finally having room to think, you’d only just then comprehended what Paige had said, knitting your eyebrows slightly from next to her. You turned your head, realizing she had managed to hoist herself up and put her clothes back on, grabbing scattered pieces of clothing in the process. Your scattered pieces of clothing.

You propped yourself up on both elbows, her comforter covering your chest. You realized that if anyone were to walk in right now, there would be no hiding the fact that you’d indeed just fucked— your mascara smudged, your hair an absolute mess. You cleared your throat, indicating you were back in the right state of mind and Paige’s body shook. Her back was turned to you, but she could already feel the tension heavy in the room.

Paige had never, not once said those three words to you. And with the way she was acting, you could tell it wasn’t one of her heat-of-the-moment sayings. She’d meant it. “Paige—“ she cut you off before you could address it.

“You should go. It’s late.” Despite her attempts to shake you off, Paige knew better than anyone that she wouldn’t get the last word with you. She might’ve been too full of herself, but you were one quick-witted individual.

You chuckled from behind her, an attempt to hide the actual hurt in your tone. “You’re serious?” you asked, although you knew she was. Your eyes were widened and you couldn’t believe she’d said such a thing before literally kicking you out.

She turned around and effortlessly tossed your clothes onto the bed, the garments landing right in front of you. She didn’t have to say anything. You could fucking feel it. You didn’t have the energy to put up a fight or an argument because it simply did not seem like she cared enough for it. Her words would only hurt you more. You’d known and learned this girl through and through and you would’ve never thought she’d do such a thing. You normally stayed the night, took a shower together, or even just stayed in each other’s warmth until having to tend to something. But tonight, she’d dropped a bomb and resulted in acting like an asshole.

You had a slight frown on your face as you hastily gathered your things, your clothes sloppily thrown on your body like you were sneaking out from a one-night-stand. You tucked your hair behind your ears as you put your shoes on, ignoring the unreadable expression on Paige’s face as her eyes shot daggers into you. Why weren’t you saying anything back? Why weren’t you shouting the most cruel things in her face? She felt like she’d deserved some backlash for what she just did, yet you seemed more hurt and eager to get out of her room than angry.

Without a second glance at the blonde, you rushed out of the room, nearly slamming the door behind you which elicited a slight jump from Paige. Waltzing across the living room, you almost didn’t catch the widened eyes of Amari and Ice in the kitchen. You didn’t care that their speculations had been confirmed, because it was shut down now. Despite being the only girl Paige had been fucking for months on end, she treated you like just another fling tonight, and you were hurt. You were hurt because you loved her too and she didn’t care enough to say it again.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #wlw #wlw ns/fw #lgbtq #paige bueckers headcannons #uconn women’s basketball #bueckers’ works 🍒

472 notes · View notes