Bad Girls Fic: The Morning After (H/K)
Title: The Morning After
Fandom: Bad Girls
Pairing: Helen / Karen
Rating: 15 (sex implied but not described)
Summary: The morning after the night before, from Helen’s point of view
Disclaimer: The smutty imagination is mine, everything else belongs to Shed
A/N: Cross posted to passion_perfect
The morning after
At first there is only the persistent buzzing of the alarm clock, slowly encroaching on the edge of your consciousness. You groan and lash out indiscriminately, your movements uncoordinated in your early morning stupor, desperately hoping to find your target, to sink back into denial and end the torturous droning.
Then there is the hangover, pressing down on your forehead, creeping behind your eyes and sliding down into your stomach, gathering momentum with every passing second. You pull the duvet further over your head as remembrance of the previous night seeps through the pain, hoping that the soft, comforting quilt can somehow block out the knowledge of the empty bottles littered across your kitchen table.
It is then that you realise that you’re not alone, that the nearly naked form of Karen Betts, similarly clad in just her underwear, is also seeking refuge in the darkness, as reluctant as you are to acknowledge the harsh light of day and all that comes with it. You part your eyelids just a fraction, enough to peer out into the world and to notice that she’s watching you now, cautiously, surreptitiously, unsure of how much you will admit to remembering, of how you will react.
Quickly, you close your eyes, panicking slightly and pretending not to have seen her, in order to buy yourself some much needed time. You have a choice to make, a decision that will determine the future of your relationship with this woman, a decision that may change everything. You could claim to remember nothing of the night before, deny all knowledge of the sensuous shared kisses, feign indifference to the intoxicating scent of her which still lingers on your fingers. You could take the easy way out and put it all down to the mellowing effect of the wine, to the stress of the job clouding your judgement. Or you could take the plunge and acknowledge the feelings that have been lurking deep inside of you. You could dare to bridge the gap, to pull her close to you and feel her soft skin against your own. Your stomach flutters at the thought and you know in that moment that any notion of choice is purely theoretical. You know what you have to do.
You open your eyes and smile warmly at her, trying desperately to repress the perpetual pounding in your forehead. She smiles back, the uncertainty quickly fading from her eyes. Your fingers touch and in a second her lips are on yours, your bodies pressed together, your tongues intertwined in an intricate dance.
The alarm sounds again and you silence it with greater accuracy this time, your mind now fully alert. The daily grind can wait. This is no time for power suits and coffee, for hastily gulped ibuprofen and thinly veiled stress. Right now you have more important things to do.
Fandom: Bad Girls
Pairing: Helen / Karen
Rating: 15 (sex implied but not described)
Summary: The morning after the night before, from Helen’s point of view
Disclaimer: The smutty imagination is mine, everything else belongs to Shed
A/N: Cross posted to passion_perfect
The morning after
At first there is only the persistent buzzing of the alarm clock, slowly encroaching on the edge of your consciousness. You groan and lash out indiscriminately, your movements uncoordinated in your early morning stupor, desperately hoping to find your target, to sink back into denial and end the torturous droning.
Then there is the hangover, pressing down on your forehead, creeping behind your eyes and sliding down into your stomach, gathering momentum with every passing second. You pull the duvet further over your head as remembrance of the previous night seeps through the pain, hoping that the soft, comforting quilt can somehow block out the knowledge of the empty bottles littered across your kitchen table.
It is then that you realise that you’re not alone, that the nearly naked form of Karen Betts, similarly clad in just her underwear, is also seeking refuge in the darkness, as reluctant as you are to acknowledge the harsh light of day and all that comes with it. You part your eyelids just a fraction, enough to peer out into the world and to notice that she’s watching you now, cautiously, surreptitiously, unsure of how much you will admit to remembering, of how you will react.
Quickly, you close your eyes, panicking slightly and pretending not to have seen her, in order to buy yourself some much needed time. You have a choice to make, a decision that will determine the future of your relationship with this woman, a decision that may change everything. You could claim to remember nothing of the night before, deny all knowledge of the sensuous shared kisses, feign indifference to the intoxicating scent of her which still lingers on your fingers. You could take the easy way out and put it all down to the mellowing effect of the wine, to the stress of the job clouding your judgement. Or you could take the plunge and acknowledge the feelings that have been lurking deep inside of you. You could dare to bridge the gap, to pull her close to you and feel her soft skin against your own. Your stomach flutters at the thought and you know in that moment that any notion of choice is purely theoretical. You know what you have to do.
You open your eyes and smile warmly at her, trying desperately to repress the perpetual pounding in your forehead. She smiles back, the uncertainty quickly fading from her eyes. Your fingers touch and in a second her lips are on yours, your bodies pressed together, your tongues intertwined in an intricate dance.
The alarm sounds again and you silence it with greater accuracy this time, your mind now fully alert. The daily grind can wait. This is no time for power suits and coffee, for hastily gulped ibuprofen and thinly veiled stress. Right now you have more important things to do.