ashhbookmarks

[ashhbookmarks]

you can start anytime.

you can brush your teeth in the middle of the day. you can wash the dishes at 2am. you can do things outside the normal times assigned by society.

[ashhbookmarks]

all shall love her and despair

pairing: agatha harkness/rio vidal w/c: 4125 summary: where rio falls for agatha's spell (metaphorically) and they unintentionally get married (metaphorically) warnings: emotional porn and actual porn, orgasm delay/denial, begging if you squint, squirting (can't believe i'm typing these words), is there a thing called metaphor porn because that's what this is, also rio's internal monologues, this took a slightly angsty turn at the end......... ..... BUT STILL

a/n: wrote this over lunar new year like the good, dutiful, chinese daughter i am you're welcome. also yes, i took a quote from lord of the rings. it works, sue me.

ao3 link (there is NO ao3 link because the site is DOWN, will update when it's back up)

Rio can hardly say she’s lacking for power. She’s the original green witch. With a flick of her fingers, she can level mountains. She flits between realms humans can barely begin to conceive of. Power flows through her veins like ichor. It is her very being, stitched together by the threads that bind the universe. 

Still, Death can say that there’s nothing that makes her feel more powerful than having Agatha Harkness’ head in her lap. 

There’s a certain thrill to having the Witch Killer – covenless, evil incarnate – lounging like a cat basking in the afternoon sun. She holds a leather-bound book in one hand, the other drawing aimless circles into the bedspreads. Rio has the honor of stroking her fingers through her hair, untangling the curls, braiding them, untangling them again. 

It had been a quiet day, a pleasant afternoon slipping into an even more pleasant evening. A rare occurrence for Death and her mortal lover. Rio briefly wonders if her green witch powers included stopping the spinning of time – just so she could let the night drag on for eternity. 

Agatha flips a page, making a quiet huh at the fading rune inked on yellowed pages. Rio notices her fingers tracing a careful arc, then a cross, another circle, and several more lines. She almost laughs. 

The rune.

Into her bed. 

“Are you drawing a control rune into our bed?” Rio scoffs. 

Agatha tilts her head back slightly to look at Rio above her. “Why, afraid I’d mind control you to do my evil bidding?” She quips, a mischievous smirk tugging on her lips. 

Rio shrugs. “You’ll have to try harder than a simple rune.” She’s not wrong. Death is more impervious to magic. It would take a powerful witch and then some for that spell to have any effect whatsoever on her. But for Agatha– for Agatha, Death thinks she would make herself vulnerable. 

Agatha puts her book down. “Oh?” She raises a brow, eyes sparking with curiosity now, her smile devious. This is Rio’s favorite version of Agatha Harkness. When her excitement is so palpable it makes her eyes glow. She sees it when she’s faced with a challenge. Be it draining witches, or stumbling upon a new curiosity, or, in this case, when she’s trying to take Rio apart with only her hands and eyes. “That’s a bold statement.”

She understands now. She understands why Agatha is so good at what she does. Why, night after night, witches follow her into the woods, to their death. She feels drawn in, tempted by a provocation, with the promise of something more, something just on the edge of too much. 

Like so many of those witches before her, witches whose souls she collected. Rio tilts her head at the challenge, taking the bait, “Is it?”

Agatha smiles. A full, predatory grin. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. A hand reaches down to pull at her skirts. She’s shameless in rucking them up, her fingers dipping quickly below the material. 

She lets out a moan, loud and dramatic. It’s entirely for show, but Rio tightens her fingers into a fist anyway. Another moan, softer this time, breathier. Then another, higher-pitched, cut off with a sharp gasp. 

It’s a test, Rio knows. A test of that control that she so claimed she wielded. She feels Agatha set the ritual ground, walking the perimeter, her gaze sharp and unyielding as she assesses. 

Rio swallows thickly. She releases her hands slowly, flexing her fingers. Leaning down, she presses a gentle kiss to Agatha’s forehead, eyes gleaming wickedly. If Agatha wants to play, then Rio will indulge her. 

Her fingers start at the sensitive spot behind Agatha’s ear, tracing slowly. They glide down Agatha’s neck, pausing when she feels her fluttering pulse beneath the skin. When she presses down, Agatha gasps. Genuine, this time. She can’t help herself. She presses harder until Agatha’s breath catches. Rio smirks, triumphant. 

She continues downward, dragging her nail just over her clavicle, pressing once more at the hollow of Agatha’s throat to draw out another whine, her lips pressed together to suppress the sound. Rio can feel it under her fingertips.

Agatha crooks her wrist. And Rio knows — by the way Agatha sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, not quite able to swallow that slight whimper — that she’s sunk her fingers in. 

It’s now that Rio sees a candle lit. The ground has been set, candles laid out in an arc around her. She’d spent so long trying to fight Agatha’s temptations that she had not noticed she was only fighting for a consolation. 

Rio draws Agatha’s bottom lip out from under her teeth with her thumb, spreading her spit over the bruised skin. Her tongue darts out, seeking the taste of Rio, and she lets herself be pulled in, Agatha bites down – hard – though it does little to muffle her whines and groans as her movements speed up. The sounds fall from her lips like an incantation, drawing Rio deeper and deeper in. A hand comes up, blindly reaching for Rio and Rio lets her. 

She sees the moment Agatha comes up to the edge, her fingers stuttering. 

“Stop,” Rio says, unable to help herself as she sends an echo of the command through Agatha’s head. Agatha’s jaw falls slack, releasing Rio’s thumb. Her hand shoots out, gripping her wrist just as she’s about to leap off the cliff, tugging. Agatha whines, and Rio delights in the heat of it. 

She brings Agatha’s fingers up to her mouth, tongue laving over sweet skin and ambrosia, moaning at the taste. “Is this what that book tells you to do?” Rio slips her fingers out of her mouth for a second to taunt. 

“It does,” Agatha says, sharp and teasing at once. She taps the back cover of the book, “Right there, page 86.” 

“You’re so full of shit.” Rio thinks she’s too coherent for having just been denied. 

Agatha only laughs, hearing how heady Rio sounds, the tightness of her voice. The sticky fingers caught in Rio’s hand wiggle in front of her face. “Oh, but, my love, it’s working.”

Agatha is good with her words, Rio knows. Knows that the term of endearment had been thrown in as part of her spell. She drinks it in anyway, letting it fill her until all she can hear is my love, my love, my love echoing in her bones. Like a man starved. Like a lover starved. 

Rio swallows. Tosses Agatha’s hand on the bed as callously as she can. “Go on,” she graciously allows, “continue.”

Agatha smiles – that same predatory grin. Lights the rest of the candles around her as her fingers sink into her heat once more. Her free hand reaches up to her chest, palming her breast over the fabric of her shift. 

Agatha’s face twists, pleasure softening her features until Rio can’t help but lean down, her lips pressing in where her fingers once were. She scraps her teeth lightly, teasingly, over her jugular, relishing the rush of blood beneath. 

It’s not unforeign, Death knows the human body inside and out. But with Agatha, it only makes her ever more perplexing. A mere mortal human – witch, but human nonetheless. Rio doesn’t understand. Doesn’t understand how she could allow herself to be pulled in, to follow a witch into the woods and have runes willingly drawn around her feet. 

It infuriates her. So Rio slips her hand below the collar of Agatha’s shift, and thumbs roughly at the other hard nipple. She wants answers – wants to drag this witch to the edge of the world and demand what she’s doing to a cosmic being like Death. But Agatha moans so beautifully for her that perhaps she might just sink to her knees and beg for it instead. 

Rio pinches a nipple roughly. Agatha responds by squeezing her other breast, and with a well-timed plunge of her fingers, she cries out like she’s barely holding herself together with her bare hands. Rio wants to gather the pieces, spread them out in her garden, and study them until she can understand this paradox of a woman.

“Rio–” Agatha begins. But Rio rolls her nipple between her fingers in retaliation, not wanting to hear the next spell out of the witch’s mouth. “Oh– fuck.” Agatha breaths out, hips bucking, trying to pull every last bit of pleasure she can out of the pain. 

Rio traces a control rune right over Agatha’s nipple. It means nothing, not without magic and intention, but Agatha lets out a strangled groan anyway. 

“Moan louder for me, I know you can,” Rio says with a sharp pinch to the underside of Agatha’s breast. 

Agatha does exactly that, a long drawn-out sound like the rune has slipped under her skin. She tips her head back, sinking further into Rio’s lap, exposing the muscles of her neck, tensing and releasing with each sound and breath.

Rio can’t tell how real it is – how much of it is for show. But it matters not. 

Because it is for her. It’s all for her. 

And even though it’s Agatha who’s squirming and desperate beneath her, Rio isn’t sure she has ever been more enthralled. She’s hypnotized – spellbound by Agatha’s flushed skin and increasingly breathy moans. Rio would step willingly into Agatha’s ritual circle. Would draw the runes herself if Agatha asked her to. 

Rio cups Agatha’s chin, angling her head up so she can better appreciate what pleasure does to her features. Agatha’s tongue darts out, wetting her lips, seeking Rio. But Rio doesn’t let her – keeps her fingers well away from Agatha’s mouth until she whines at the lack. 

“Stop.” Rio commands. And when Agatha pulls away, releasing another drawn-out, desperate sob, Rio swallows the sound in a frantic kiss. Agatha’s hand, soaked in desire, grips roughly at the back of her neck, nails digging in like a lifeline. 

They pull away, and Agatha gasps for breath. Rio takes a playful nip at her bottom lip. She teeths at her jaw, then licks a long stripe down Agatha’s throat. A glorious, desperate whimper reaches her ears, and she feels the quiver of skin beneath her lips. 

Rio takes Agatha’s hand, still on her neck, and brings it down. She squeezes it once, lets her fingers smear her wetness across her lips, then drops her hand at her hip. Rio taps the back of it in a silent, placating command. 

This time, Agatha is slower to comply. She rubs a shaking hand over her thighs, flushed and panting, like she’s doing all she can to stay above the pleasure. To keep in control of the magic instead of sinking into it like Rio wants to do. 

They’re both fighting. 

Rio creeps a hand downward to pull Agatha’s skirts higher up her hips, waiting, watching the way she easily sinks two fingers in, up to the knuckle. 

Agatha pauses, takes a steadying breath. Slowly, ever so slowly, she pulls out, drawing a soft, fragile sigh from her lips. 

Rio can’t pull her eyes away.

Agatha’s fingers are gleaming with her wetness. They almost sparkle in the rising moonlight, drawing Rio like a moth to a flame. 

Almost absent-mindedly, Rio plays with Agatha’s nipples, peaked and sensitive, pinching and pulling and twisting all her complicated, confusing emotions away. She licks her lips, and runs her tongue over her teeth, soaking up whatever taste of Agatha is left inside her mouth. 

“Think you can fit another finger?” Rio teases, breathier than she expected, almost sounding like begging to her ears. 

Agatha groans. Her free hand digs into her thigh, kneading at the flesh. Rio isn’t sure if she wants to run her tongue over the marred skin or leave it so she will see the crescent imprints for days. 

She makes Rio wait, two fingers working her up. Agatha watching Rio watch Agatha. Rio is barely being touched but her skin feels like it’s on fire. Then, slowly, so achingly slow she’s surprised, Agatha slips her index in as well, releasing a symphony of whines and moans. 

Rio is almost salivating at the muscles working beneath, at the veins that pull at Agatha’s skin. And she is too distracted to notice the spell cast, activating the runes beneath her feet, as Agatha’s spellwork lights up her soul. 

“Ah– fuck–” Agatha pants. Rio shivers, magic sinking beneath her bones, the runes settling. She twists a nipple between her fingers. “Rio– please,” Agatha releases in a desperate gasp, the final line of this incantation, and the ritual is complete. 

Rio slips under her spell, willfully bound to her every command, and she can’t find it in herself to deny her witch this time. “Okay,” she nods, and though she’s the one who demands, Rio knows it’s only with Agatha’s permission that she’s allowed to. So she takes what she’s given. “Yes, yes, my love,” she murmurs into Agatha’s skin, repeating it like a mantra, like a prayer to a greater god. 

Agatha’s fingers stutter as her muscles seize in the height of her ecstasy. She shifts, hips rising to meet her fingers as her thumb presses against her clit, movements uncoordinated but enough. Enough for Agatha to suck in a sharp breath, holding it with a whimper, then releasing it in a long moan. 

Rio's skin is on fire, burning where Agatha touches her, burning where Agatha doesn’t. If she asks her to, Rio thinks she could come just like that. At the drop of a hat. At her command. At the mere whisper of want. 

There’s a shift in the air when Agatha slumps back against the sheets. The ritual complete, Rio’s body and mind tethered to the flick and twist of Agatha’s fingers. The candles extinguished, the rune blown away in the rush of magic that followed. 

There’s quiet anticipation as Agatha lifts her hand. Rio almost parts her lips, awaiting. But Agatha merely brings them to her mouth, sucking them clean herself. It leaves Rio wanting, craving. 

It makes her lean down, presses kisses along Agatha’s jaw, to her lips. Collects her ragged breaths like it’s opium. “Is that all you’ve got?” She murmurs, unsatiated and drugged and oh-so addicted. It’s akin to that heady rush from magic. To the spell that’s sinking into her skin, binding to the marrow of her bones. 

Agatha scoffs. “Please.” And it’s different. It’s so different from the one before. “You’re just being needy.” Though, her hand creeps further downward, never letting Rio have the last word.

She winces when she touches herself again. And Rio moans into her mouth. It’s uncontrollable. It’s pathetic. And it’s Agatha’s. 

Agatha’s free hand grips the pale flesh of her thigh, scratching red lines over crescent indents into her already flushed skin. Her face twists, betraying just an edge of overstimulation, though her fingers work quickly.

Rio soothes each crease of pain away, pressing with her lips, with her fingers, her tongue. Until Agatha’s mouth hangs open, crying her pleasure to the world. 

Rio isn’t sure she understands what love is anymore. She thought she did – when she first laid eyes on Agatha Harkness. 

Now? 

Now, she thinks the poets have gravely understated it. It’s a strange word, filling her, burning with a rage that threatens to consume her obsidian heart. And yet, it seems to mean nothing at all. Nothing compared to the thick knot of emotions in her throat. It threatens to unmake her. To become her. 

Rio doesn’t understand why anybody would want to feel like this. She isn’t sure she wants to try to understand it. 

But Agatha sobs her name, and if Rio had a beating heart, she was certain it would stutter to a stop. Names only meant as much as you wanted it to, and Rio picked hers out with a sardonic irony. Right now, Agatha sents her name reverberating around the room, filling the spaces with intent and promise and magic. So much magic. 

Agatha’s hand grasps frantically at the sheets. Her eyes shoot open, and Rio is met with her teary gaze, wild and desperate and pleading. 

They’re standing at the edge of the world, peering into the void. And Agatha offers her a hand instead. Her lips shape a single word, soundless but unrelenting. Please, please, please. 

Rio smiles, entirely too soft for Death. But it’s Agatha. 

She takes her hand, twining their fingers together. She brushes Agatha’s hair back and traces a rune – this one different, now lost to time – right into her forehead. 

“Let go, my love,” Rio whispers, the words barely audible in the midst of all she feels. She brings her hand down, fingers pressing in just so over Agatha’s lower belly. 

They leap into the void. 

“Come for me.”

The world shifts again, collapses on itself, and twists into something altogether different. But Rio doesn’t notice. Because Agatha is right at the center of it all. She squeezes so tightly at their joined hands and Rio squeezes right back. 

Death has the world at its fingertips, and she’s shaking apart in pleasure, spilling her ecstasy onto the sheets. 

It is pure, final, blood on sacred ground. 

Rio has never seen anything more beautiful. Rio doesn’t think she ever will again. 

The after settles like the quiet that follows a calamity. Agatha sinks into the sheets with a sigh, soft and pliant and boneless. Rio’s hands are released from their death grip, and she takes a few seconds to flex them, easing the ache in her knuckles. 

Agatha’s eyes are closed, her breaths slowing to a gentle cadence. Rio brushes her hair to the side, hands landing at the base of her neck. They work expertly, pressing and kneading the muscles. 

Her hands work down to her shoulders, her arm, to her fingers. Rio presses into the spaces between Agatha’s metacarpal bones. Agatha hums in contentment, while Rio, slow and gentle, gathers the fragments of the world and pieces them back together. 

Agatha catches her fingers before she can pull away, twining their fingers loosely, Rio’s palm to the back of hers. Touch. It’s always touch. It’s always easier to take when she can touch. 

Rio squeezes their fingers lightly. Take, she seems to say, take whatever you want from me. 

And they float. Two lovers suspended in nothingness, the world inconsequential, forgotten. 

Agatha, in all her blissed-out generosity, lifts their hands, and presses a kiss to the back of Rio’s. It’s tender. It’s loving. It makes Rio feel delirious not unlike a rush of fresh power or an orgasm. It’s Agatha at Rio’s mercy and Rio at Agatha’s. 

Their hands rest on Agatha’s chest. Rio can feel her heart. It pounds a steady rhythm, a little fast, but all things considered, calming. 

Rio wants to tear her own out — obsidian and still and bloodless as it was. She would put it next to Agatha’, in her chest, so that she might be with her always. Better still if they became one. An obsidian heart that beat and bled. Rio wonders if it were possible. Rio would do it. Rio would do anything in an instant if Agatha asked. 

So she presses the pads of her fingers a little harder into the tender skin of Agatha’s chest, imagining she was cradling her lover’s precious beating heart in her death-touched hands. 

A soreness has started to form in Rio’s lower back from her slumped position– limitations of the mortal body that she has started to learn to appreciate. She slides down further, almost prone, with Agatha’s head on her stomach. 

She bites back a small whine when, minutes later, Agatha flips over onto her stomach. She shifts, resting her head in the dip of Rio’s chest, brown hair splayed over her ribs, almost ticklish. Wriggling her fingers into what little space there is between her skin and the bed, Agatha wraps her arms around Rio’s middle. 

Rio stands corrected. There is one thing better than Agatha’s head in her lap. Here, with Agatha’s arms around her waist, purring in the afterglow of her desire, she can say, with certainty this time, that she has never felt more powerful than when under Agatha Harkness’ spell.

Rio stretches slightly, reaching for the abandoned book. Curiously, she skims through it, eyes flitting across the pages, noting the runes and notes scattered in the margins. It is old, ancient perhaps, enough that even time has touched its pages. Rio was almost certain it would crumble beneath her fingers if she were to remove the protective wards. The spells penned within covered both the body and mind, walking the precarious line of what would be considered dark magic. 

Rio shook her head lightly, mildly amused by Agatha’s incessant pull toward the forbidden and the macabre. She supposed she couldn’t complain. Not if it let Rio have her like this, in Death’s everloving arms. 

Agatha shifts slightly. “That rune,” She says,” what is it?”

Rio almost laughs. Her first words after sex and it’s to ask a question. “If you were conscious enough to feel that, then clearly you can go another round.”

“I’m just good at multitasking.” Agatha retorts lazily.

Rio smiles fondly. She snaps the book shut, reaching slightly to leave it on their nightstand. Almost hesitant, she brings her fingers beneath Agatha’s shift, tracing the rune again onto her back.

“That one,” She points out. 

“It’s a binding rune,” Rio explains slowly, only the slightest bit embarrassed. “It was used centuries ago – longer, maybe – to capture and, well, bind a monster to an anchor.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“It's not dark magic,” Rio clarifies. “It just had a tendency of being used for… worse reasons. Besides, the specifics of it have been lost now.”

“But you know it.” 

Rio is hesitant to reply. She knows most things, not because of who she is, but because of how long she’s been around. Although, Agatha rarely lets her give her information for free. She preferred to source it out herself, the hunt for knowledge as much a challenge as the knowledge itself. Rio didn’t think Agatha meant anything by the question, merely testing the extent of her understanding. After a beat, she nods. “I do.”

Agatha hums in acknowledgment, taking in the information. Rio can almost hear her brain working, filing it away on another page of the book that is her mind. 

“So… what’s the significance?”

Rio sighs. Of course, she wouldn’t let it go with an intellectual explanation. She twists the sheets between her fingers. “It’s… uh– you’re the anchor.”

“And you’re the one who’s bound?”

Rio swallows. “I– yes.”

Agatha tilts her head, a curious smile on her face. “You’re awfully sentimental, you know that?”

“Right, because you hate it.” Rio’s lips twist into a small smile, almost shy. 

Agatha hums in thought. Rio can’t read what flits across her face. She shifts uncomfortably, but Agatha’s fingers dig into her skin in warning at her fidgeting. 

“I like that,” She says finally. “We’re bound.” She tightens her arms around Rio, adjusting her head on her stomach. Rio would go as far as to say Agatha was nuzzling her.

“Did you know, the word monster comes from the Latin word monstrum.” Agatha continues, mumbling into her skin. “It means to warn, or portent, or omen, or—“

“—Miracle.” 

Agatha pauses. Then nods, still sleepily draped over Rio, letting the word sink into her skin. 

“It takes a monster to bind a monster.” She says finally. Rio thinks she means it differently.

Only you, Agatha Harkness. She doesn’t voice it, the words all too soft on her lips. But her fingers sink back into Agatha’s hair, scraping lightly across her scalp. The sound Agatha releases is almost a purr. 

“So what happens when the anchor is destroyed?” She continues. And while Rio knows the question is purely curious, purely intellectual, it fills her with sorrow. Sorrow and anger, and a terrifying willingness to rend the world to pieces just to keep the grief at bay. 

“The creature dies.”

“Huh,” Agatha tilts her head slightly, pressing harder against Rio so she can look up at her. “I guess that’s one way to kill Death.”

Agatha’s eyes shine with mischief, but Rio can only force a smile for her. She is a being of the universe, a cosmic thread in the tapestry that holds the fabric of realities together. That is where Death came from. Rio Vidal, however, lays in bed with her lover, bound by more than words. Agatha Harkness is the thread that holds her together. In a tone that belies a future already writ where that thread snaps, Rio shakes her head, and retorts, “If only it were that easy,” 

[ashhbookmarks]

⋆ i am afraid i will love you forever.

ambessa x sugar baby!reader x sevika. men & minors dni.

synopsis: ambessa & sevika are married for business reasons but cannot stand each other. however, they love you—you who are unaware that they are together.

cw: age difference, older woman/young woman, polyam but is it really bc they just love you and not each other, sugar baby!reader, business moguls!ambessa & sevika, power dynamics, power imbalance (you're a sugar baby, lol), sw, pining, non-sexual intimacy, sexually explicit content, threesome, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, oral sex (everyone is receiving at some point), masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dom/sub, sub!reader, dom!ambessa, switch!sevika, mommy kink, strength kink, face-sitting, face fucking, possessive sevika & ambessa, y'all there's a lot of nastiness in here idk if i can warn for it all, discussions of sexuality, implied assault (non-graphic, within conversation), slightly dub-con, angst, angst with a happy ending, misunderstandings, arranged marriage, sexual tension, hate sex, bisexual!reader.

wc: 10.3k

PLAYLIST.

notes: y'all, i'm going to hell. i had fun with this. i have such a soft spot for plots like this.

ACT I: CONCEPTION. you were used to feeling like a guest in your own life, everything fleeting, everything temporary.

sugaring was something inherently lacking permanence, even in name. it was sweet for a moment, full of gleaming gifts that you accepted with perfect tears in your eyes.

you had more than enough money, saved from endless months in which you traipsed across the world in the hands of older men. maybe it was about the attention now, this idea that you were still young enough to be considered enticing without effort. maybe it was the desperation to wring what you could out of an age gap connection before you became the older one.

still, in the beginning years of your twenties, you found it increasingly grating. very quickly, you understood that the men were the main problem.

they were all the same: fleshy jowls wiggling as they chewed thickly through caviar and jasmine rice, their boisterous laughs sailing across tables when you attempted to join conversations. they took your interests and re-explained them to you, returning them pulpy and distorted as they attempted to convince you that you didn't understand them the way they did. their self-importance clung to them like cheap cologne.

the rare occasions where you actually slept with them were mercifully short, and you learned to suspend yourself out of your body. you would imagine hovering somewhere over yourself, banished to the lavish mirrored ceiling of the ritz or whatever opulent hotel they'd chosen. they shuddered awkwardly above you, and afterward, you'd come back into yourself only to scrub viciously at your skin under the unforgiving spray of the shower.

the women were different—usually. you found yourself drawn to their luxury perfumes and high society drawls. it was because of this that you dropped working through an agency—which you had originally chosen to better protect yourself from male clients—and began independent contracting.

you kept a private log of the ones you liked best. there was the private university professor (who was really a nepotism baby) who loved to wear le labo matcha 26 and smelled so deliciously of fig whenever she kissed you that you sometimes bought the fruit just to continue tasting her. her nickname for you was something in greek—μωρό μου, you think. moro mou. she told you it meant 'my baby', but in all honesty, she could have called you anything. you just liked hearing her speak.

you were a dreamy, distant creature. your appeal lay in your ethereal quality, moving through the world in a way that suggested you were detached from it. people described your presence as lingering, smokey and soft, like a fading perfume in a sunlit room. there was something endearing about the tilt of your head, the deliberate pause in your movements and speech as you stewed in thought, that made people stare a second too long.

you had plied yourself with romantic imaginations since you were younger, when you first grew to hate your mother. that hatred had led you across far waters into a glittering life of your own making. but you'd learned that women could be just as dangerous, if not more so. they could ensnare you, shatter your heart with just the flicker of a glance.

so, of course, this meant that you were bound to get caught in the tides of extensive affection at some point. you just didn't expect it to be with them.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

the first sign should have been the unusual nature they coaxed from you.

you typically focused on one relationship at a time, securing yourself to a single person until you became too honest or too sensitive or too old. but with them, you fo​​und yourself with what you called a roster—a term your best friend and fellow sugar baby clleo (yes, two l's) took issue with during your weekly brunches.

"it's not a roster when it's only two women, [name]," she said, stirring her mimosa with a silver straw.

"it's more than one, no?"

"i feel like you have to have a minimum of three." she raised an eyebrow. "though i have to admit, even two is unusual for you."

the first was ambessa.

you'd met her when you weren't even looking, at some jazz show clleo had received tickets for from her newest beau. you had been perched inside the red velvet of the box, eyes roving over the insides of the other open balcony seats. you loved to observe, to look into others' lives and pretend they could be your own.

that night, you'd worn a navy slip dress that pushed the line of being dress-code appropriate, but it was comfortable and you had been tired. your hair was elaborately braided away from your face, threaded through with silk ribbons of the same color. despite its usually disagreeable nature, you'd managed to make it look elegant enough. your skin was littered with goosebumps from the fervent blasting of the air conditioning.

for once, you'd done your makeup the way you preferred it—less blushing ingenue, more cool nudes and a dark, bold lip. in the bottom of your purse sat two rolling bullets of lipstick: one a berry shade, the other a satiny red slightly subdued by a touch of brown pigment.

your feet had been curled beneath you, your ballet flats cast aside in the corner. the rounded tops were slightly scuffed, but you only saw it as a testimony of love. again, you looked out into the crowd only to find a woman looking back.

she was utterly beautiful, and your body flushed with heat for a moment, eyes wide like a doe. her skin was a dark, rich brown that gleamed with a sheen of oil and perhaps a shimmering body mist. her hair—black and streaked with thin rivers of gray—was pulled up into a tight bun, though the front was cornrowed. her mouth was full and smooth, a small gold cuff inserted in the middle of her bottom lip.

that night, she'd worn an oversized blazer over tailored pants. your eyes caught on her diamond cufflinks, and you felt your fingers clutch tighter around the bulk of your vintage ysl clutch.

she watched you with a sense of urgency, as if you might take flight like a bird and never return. bashfully, you turned back to watch the performance and clapped politely as it came to an end. her gaze never strayed from you, and as you rose to leave with clleo, you knew that she would be waiting.

you don't remember much of what happened after, of arranging the contract and indenturing yourself to her wealth. you only remember how she made you feel, her great body towering over you as she pierced you with her shrewd gaze. she'd cupped your elbow, pulled you gently to the side so that you were less in the way. the movement was easy; you trusted her with your body immediately.

now, ambessa reigned over the entries of your leather journal as your clear favorite. everything she did further endeared you to her, and you found yourself tumbling out of bed to check your phone where it lay on the floor, desperate for her messages. you watched the device all night, its flat body connected to a limp white cord plugged into the wall—willing it to ring.

and when she did call, you were almost delirious with joy.

ambessa's world was a carefully curated exhibition of power. noxus corp dominated the skyline with its obsidian tower, all sharp angles and tinted windows that reflected the setting sun like spilled blood. you'd learned early on not to ask too many questions about her work. the corporate merger making headlines—something about expanding into the industrial district of zaun—was just background noise to the way she'd trace your collarbone with cold fingers heavy with rings.

belatedly, in the midst of your betrayal and anguish, you’d berate yourself on your refusal to engage with real life when it inconvenienced you. you could’ve caught on, dived deep into the hole of information that was the internet as clleo did when taking up with someone new. but you didn’t, you just answered her call.

she liked to dress you up. tonight, it was a paper-thin black dress that cost more than your month's rent, the fabric liquid against your skin. you'd paired it with kitten heels that made soft clicking sounds against the marble floors—ambessa preferred when you were shorter than her, easier to maneuver, to possess. your lips were stained the color of coffee, and you'd lined your eyes with something dusky and soft.

the restaurant was the kind of place that didn't list prices on the menu, where the silverware felt weighty enough to be used as weapons. you liked this style of dining; it allowed you to escape further. you could pretend that since there were no prices, every morsel you ate was free and that the woman across from you was someone whom you loved and received love back from instead of bills.

“pull your hair back,” she commanded softly when you sat down, reaching across to brush a strand from your face. her touch lingered longer than necessary. “i want to see you properly. you should never feel a need to hide from me.”

you obliged, using the elastic around your wrist to gather your hair into a loose knot. the movement exposed the necklace she'd given you last week—a delicate thing of white gold and diamonds that probably cost more than your university education. her eyes darkened with satisfaction. she liked marking you with beautiful things, preferred to communicate through touch and gifts rather than words.

you preened under her clear pleasure. the idea that you’d done something right flowed through you, sweet as sugar as was the phenomenon of female favoritism. your tongue settled behind your teeth as she skimmed the menu, ordering for you as she always did. she seemed more aware of what you liked and needed more than you had ever been.

“are you alright with sharing the roast monkfish tonight, little lamb? i’m not all that hungry, so i think we should deal with something light.”

you nodded and she smiled, chucking your chin as she flagged down the server. you squeezed your thighs together, resisting the urge to rise from your seat and sit at her side with your head resting in her lap.

the waiter arrived with a bottle of wine you were unfamiliar with, which meant it was far more expensive than your beloved six-dollar gas station sémillon. as ambessa swirled the dark liquid in her glass, her phone buzzed. her expression hardened for a fraction of a second before smoothing over.

"business," she said simply, standing. "order whatever you'd like. i'll return shortly."

you caught fragments of her conversation as she walked away—something about zaun's infrastructure and liability concerns. one hour bled into two. the waiter refilled your glass with practiced discretion, and you watched the ice in ambessa's water melt completely. your phone remained silent except for a single text: an urgent matter requires my attention. car service will take you home.

the words blurred on your screen. you'd grown used to her absences, the way she could withdraw completely into her world of corporate warfare, leaving you adrift in these expensive spaces. but tonight, the emptiness felt sharper somehow. you had, more than ever, wanted her to take you home.

it was then that the woman entered the restaurant, right as you blinked upward to dispel the gathering tears. the air seemed to shift with her presence as she absentmindley looked in your direction.

she moved with the fluid grace of someone who knew how to handle herself in the cruel maw of this world, efficient and forceful despite wearing an expertly tailored suit. her left arm caught the light strangely—some sort of advanced prosthetic that spoke of military tech or private healthcare. a significant scar bisected her face, but rather than diminishing her beauty, it enhanced her striking features.

your paths crossed at the bar while you waited for a fresh glass of wine. she ordered whiskey, neat, and her voice was rough velvet.

"you're wearing that necklace wrong," she said, not looking at you directly. "the clasp should be centered at the nape. here."

before you could protest, her fingers—warm, unlike ambessa's—were at your neck, adjusting the chain. you caught a whiff of motor oil beneath expensive perfume. you swayed slightly, pressing into her touch. she steadied you with a single finger at the beginning knob of your spine, strong where you were momentarily weak.

"i'm sevika," she said, finally meeting your eyes. something in her gaze made your breath catch. you’d never seen eyes that grey. "you look like you could use something stronger than wine."

you smiled, albeit shakily, which avalanched into finding yourself talking to her about everything and nothing—about the book of poetry you kept on your nightstand for late night reading, about the way you collected vintage coats, about how you sometimes felt like you were floating three feet above your own life.

she listened with an intensity that made you feel anchored, present in your skin in a way you hadn't felt in months. her questions were sparse but precise, each one drawing out another story, another piece of yourself you hadn't meant to expose. and then she asked you to leave with her, and the answer was quick and easy. a light, eager ‘yes’.

the speakeasy she took you to was hidden beneath an auto shop, all exposed brick and piano medleys that wrapped around you like rope. in the dim light, you noticed the way her prosthetic arm moved with incredible precision as she gestured, the way her eyes softened almost imperceptibly when you laughed. she noticed you shiver and draped her jacket over your shoulders without comment, the leather still warm from her body.

"i manage specialized acquisitions," she said when you asked what she did, her smile suggesting there was more to the story. "currently dealing with some complex merger negotiations. but that's boring. tell me more about that poetry collection you mentioned."

you talked until your voice grew hoarse, until the early hours when the city felt like it belonged only to those who were lost or hiding. when she dropped you home, she fixed your broken porch light without being asked, her movements quick and purposeful. you found out later she'd also left her number saved in your phone under 's'.

what you didn't know—couldn't have known—was that across town, ambessa was returning to the penthouse she shared with her wife of six months, their marriage a carefully hidden clause in the merger agreement between noxus and zaun's industrial empire. their shared living space was largely ceremonial, each woman keeping to their own wing, intersecting only for appearances and board meetings.

that night, sevika found ambessa in their shared study, both of them surrounded by contract papers and acquisition reports.

"the zaun infrastructure reports," sevika said, dropping a thick folder on the desk. her wedding ring caught the light—a simple band worn only within these walls.

"you're late," ambessa replied without looking up. "the board expects updates by morning."

"i had a personal matter to attend to."

"as did i."

neither woman acknowledged sevika’s missing jacket which she never was without, nor the faint perfume—your perfume—that clung to ambessa's blazer. their arrangement was clear: their marriage was business, their personal lives their own. they had trained themselves not to care what, or who, the other did in their free time.

but that night, for the first time since their arranged union, both women found themselves thinking of the same person as they worked in silence. it was one of their more agreeable evenings together.

ACT II: GROWING PAINS.

“where do you go?”

you turned, half-lidded, your hair mussed into an untamed bird’s nest. sevika lay beside you, her smile a lopsided thing—teasing, warm, a little worn. you leaned toward her instinctively, pressing a lazy finger into the shallow dimple that cut into her cheek.

she caught your wrist before you could withdraw, lips brushing the tender pulse beneath your skin before pulling you into her chest. her hand slid across your stomach, warm and heavy, before it wandered higher to pinch your nipple just shy of too hard.

the two of you had met in a hotel, yet somehow, it felt less clinical than it should have.

“what do you mean?” you murmured, breath catching as her hand stilled.

“you go somewhere,” she said, “when we fuck.”

the words hung between you, and you felt your body shift under her scrutiny. her gaze trailed the uneasy motion of your shoulder blades as you shifted upright. honesty clawed at your throat, but you tried to swallow it back. you’ve never been the tiger, only the tiger’s bride.

“i often—” you broke off, tongue darting to wet your lips. her arm tightened around your waist, as if sensing your instinct to retreat. “i tend to disassociate when i do this part of things. i’m not—what i want, i usually can’t achieve. i don’t want to make it anyone’s problem, so i float.”

“float?” she repeated softly. her tone was unreadable, but you refused to meet her eyes.

“i pick a spot on the ceiling,” you admitted, voice small. “from there, i phase myself out of my body. it’s like it’s happening to someone else.”

sevika said nothing at first, and the silence thickened as you focused on the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest. then, carefully, she shifted you into her lap, holding you there like a delicate thing. her lips found the center of your chest, pressing a kiss over your heart before trailing up to the vulnerable line of your throat.

“you do this with me?”

“not always,” you whispered. “you’re…different. you pay attention to me—what i need. only two other people have ever been that way. both women.”

“mmm. do you still see them?” her voice was calm, but you caught the subtle current of possession beneath her words.

“only one.”

“and?”

“it’s good with her. one of the best.”

“and what do you want?” she pressed. the question lodged itself in your chest. “you said you can’t achieve it.”

your cheeks burned, and you squirmed in her lap, but she held you fast. “i—this is embarrassing.”

“there’s nothing embarrassing about your desires, baby girl,” she murmured, her tone soothing. “i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want you to enjoy this too.”

“i do enjoy it, but…i’d like to go further. i like to go under.” you hesitated, then added, “you know that i’m—”

“submissive,” she finished for you.

you nodded, your voice softening as you continued. “i don’t really like the harsher aspects of submission, but i love being taken somewhere else—being softer. i love being told i’m good, that i’m doing well. i love being pushed past my limits, to the point where i’m…hazy. overstimulated. freed from my worries through my body, through the pleasure i give and receive.

“when you manhandle me, when you pull me close and push into me like you’re starving for it, when you break me apart with your mouth, i get so close. i hover in this warm heaven where i’m nothing but what i feel. you know?”

sevika’s expression softened, her face almost unbearably open. before you could process it, she moved, pressing you into the mattress beneath her. her broad frame blotted out the light, sheltering you in a cocoon of warmth and safety.

“you are good, baby,” she finally said. “so good.”

her lips fell again to your neck and you felt her slide her thick fingers into the warm walls of your cunt. a sound slid from your throat, something gutteral and worn. she began to move, curling her fingers as if you pull you closer. there, in the back of your mind, was that heaven.

she kissed your temple, her lips lingering there as your body arched into her hands. “thank you for telling me.”

then, softer: “that heaven? i want to take you there.”

the words sank into your skin, heady and heavy, as if she’d whispered she loved you.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

ambessa had endured a long day—one filled with tedious negotiations and the peculiar frustrations of ruling over people who thought themselves her equals. she'd craved just one moment of quiet in her house, but fate, it seemed, had other plans.

when she stepped through the door, the sight of her wife pacing their kitchen dragged a weary sigh from her chest. sevika's movements were sharp, her broad shoulders taut beneath the worn leather of her jacket. even now, after months of marriage, seeing sevika in their shared space felt like an intrusion.

for a fleeting moment, ambessa considered turning around, but she hadn’t built empires by running from conflict.

“sevika,” she began, voice clipped, “if this is about zaun’s profit percentage in the acquisition, i suggest you take it up with legal. i’ve no patience to discuss business tonight.”

“it’s not that,” sevika muttered, her tone bristling with frustration. “but thanks for your grace, medarda.”

ambessa’s eyebrow arched. “then what?”

sevika stilled, the weight of her gaze pinning ambessa in place. “are you the other woman?”

for a moment, the words didn’t register. then irritation flared, swift and hot.

“i thought we agreed we weren’t in love,” ambessa replied, dry as the desert. “who i see outside this house is none of your concern, unless it compromises our arrangement.”

sevika exhaled sharply, the sound edged with restrained anger. she reached into her pocket and retrieved her phone, its screen casting a gentle glow across the marble counter. with a few taps, she pulled up a recent conversation.

she paused, a smile stealing across her face as she took in the selfie you'd sent of you and clleo in matching milano blaniks. the tenderness in her expression was something ambessa had never seen before.

my feet hurt but it might be worth it!! you'd texted. she had responded in record time.

looking cute, baby girl. i like the purple.

me too! they had a navy and gold pair i would kill for, but i'm trying to be responsible.

sevika's smile deepened, and this time she sent a bank transfer along with her next message.

you can be a little irresponsible.

oh, sevi. that's not what i meant.

i know. i don't mind. get them both.

"i'm sorry, but were we not having a conversation?" ambessa's voice cut through the moment like frost.

sevika snapped back to reality, her face twisting into something ugly—the expression she reserved solely for ambessa. she selected another image, and ambessa stepped closer, her eyes narrowing at the familiar necklace adorning your throat.

she recognized it instantly—it had rested on her desk just nights ago, a small token of indulgence she’d gifted you during one of your afternoons together.

you were smiling, beaming, caught mid-laugh. your hair was damp, clinging to your cheeks, and a sea lion nudged at your side. it was an image of unfiltered joy.

"she was talking to me the other night," sevika began, her voice tight as a wire. "mentioned some other woman. i thought it was a client thing, but then she showed me this." she gestured at the screen. "that necklace. it was on your desk when i saw you."

ambessa said nothing at first, her jaw working. finally, she sighed, the sound heavy with something like resignation. “i didn’t know. i assumed she might have other clients, but i didn’t pursue her because of you.”

sevika’s shoulders sagged slightly, but the tension in her face remained. she bent her head, palms pressing into the cool marble of the counter. “what the fuck.”

“does she know?” ambessa asked after a beat.

"what would it matter?" sevika shot back, her voice rising like tide. her gaze locked on ambessa, and her lips twisted in disbelief. "holy shit. are you in love with her?"

the question hit like a blow, but ambessa’s reaction was instant.

“as if you’re any better,” she snapped. her tone turned venomous, sharp as a blade. “you sulk through the door, reeking of her sex, then slink into the shower as if i can’t hear you simpering in there.”

sevika straightened, anger sparking. “and you’re what? innocent?”

ambessa’s laugh was cold, cruel. “i’ve never been innocent a day in my life. but you—god, sevika, you’re pathetic. you’re worse than i thought.”

sevika’s fists clenched at her sides, but she didn’t lash out. instead, she held her ground, her gaze fierce. “what do we do now?”

ambessa hesitated. her mind raced through the implications, the potential fallout. finally, she crossed her arms, her posture stiff. “we don’t tell her.”

“and keep lying to her?” sevika’s voice cracked slightly. “how long do you think that’ll work?”

“as long as it has to,” ambessa replied, her voice low and final. “this arrangement isn’t just about her, sevika. it’s about us. about what we’ve built. if you care about her as much as you claim, you’ll think before ruining what little stability we have left.”

“for fuck’s sake, ambessa. she’s a sweet girl. she won’t—”

“you have no idea what she will do if she finds out,” ambessa hissed. “and i know how sweet she is. she’s the only goddamn person i know who can stand me. who do you think i’m really protecting?”

for once, sevika had no retort. the silence between them was loud, heavy, filled with unsaid things.

“i’ll handle it,” ambessa said after a long pause, her voice softer now but no less firm. “but don’t let your feelings make you sloppy. if you can’t compartmentalize, this will all fall apart.”

sevika turned away, her shoulders tense. “it’s already falling apart.”

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

ambessa didn’t sleep that night.

not because of sevika’s words—though they lingered like a sour taste in her mouth—but because of you. she’d grown accustomed to the softness of your skin beneath her fingers, the way your presence softened the edges of her world, made it almost bearable. and yet, she couldn’t shake the nagging thought that you might be nothing more than collateral damage in this carefully constructed house of cards.

the following morning, as sunlight filtered through the sprawling windows of her office, ambessa reached for her phone. her fingers hovered over your contact, her mind warring with itself. she’d always prided herself on her control, on her ability to compartmentalize. but now, for the first time in years, she felt the cracks forming.

her phone buzzed before she could decide, sevika’s name flashing across the screen.

“what now?” ambessa answered, her tone clipped.

“the gala,” sevika began, her voice unusually subdued. “this year it’s your turn to host, right?”

ambessa’s grip tightened on the phone. “yes. and what about it?”

“and,” sevika said, dragging out the word, “she’ll be there. she got an invite through one of her clients.”

the air seemed to still around her. “you’re certain?”

“positive,” sevika replied. “what do you want to do?”

ambessa leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the skyline. the decision should have been simple: handle the event with poise, maintain appearances, and ensure that you remained blissfully unaware. but something about sevika’s tone made her pause.

“we’ll stick to the plan,” ambessa said finally. “she doesn’t know, and she won’t find out. not from us.”

they both knew it was only a beautiful dream.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

and then suddenly, it was different. it was horrible in its subtleness, but enough to make you less comfortable than you were before.

you went to dinner. ​​ambessa watched you with eyes as sharp as her diamond cufflinks, and you wondered if she knew how small you felt in her presence. you let her brush her thumb over your lower lip, and you leaned into it, hoping she doesn’t notice your hands gripping your clutch too tightly.

“is something wrong?” you asked her, throat closing around the end of the question.

she seemed to startle, and leaned back with a shake of her head. you knew what was coming next. she was going to blame work or her family, which you barely knew about, or maybe something as clandestine as the weather. you suddenly felt entirely too sick. you took a sip of wine, eyes falling on the little brown bag that sat next to you.

every gift you unwrapped felt a little like a goodbye, the sparkle dulled by the unspoken terms behind it. you kept smiling, face stretching tediously through the pain though your heart was sinking because nothing ruined a good arrangement faster than too much honesty.

you must’ve overstepped somewhere down the line, and she had grown weary of it. you were sweating now, looking away from her. it didn’t help that your phone had stayed dark all evening, your slew of messages to sevika read and unanswered.

“i finished that book you gave me,” you offered and ambessa nodded. “it was lovely. a little macabre, but i managed to push through.”

“bessa?” you asked, voice small.

the nickname seemed to spur her back into herself and she reached across the table, clutching your hand. her rings pressed cold indents into your skin. you'd grown to love the weight of them.

"the annual noxus environmental gala is tomorrow night," she said finally. her thumb traced circles on your palm. "i'd like you to come."

your heart stuttered. she'd never invited you to a public event before. "another client already invited me. i’ll be there."

she squeezed your hand once before letting go, unfazed by the mention of someone else. "good."

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

the evening was opulent in a way that made your skin prickle. the ballroom shimmered with soft golden light, chandeliers casting their glow across marble floors that reflected everything like still water.

you'd been invited by marcus—a client who preferred your company over dinner to discuss art and literature, who looked at you like you were made of gold but never asked for more than conversation. he was safe, a spiderweb you could free yourself from anytime without losing any skin.

your dress—a gift from ambessa—felt like a confession of infidelity. marcus had said nothing in the car, but his face had been momentarily confused. he kept track of what he gifted you, and he hadn’t seen this before. you offered no explanation, just smiled softly and held his clammy hand.

the fabric whispered against your skin with every movement, reminding you of her touch. you held your champagne glass like a shield, watching the bubbles rise and disappear, each one carrying a fragment of your certainty with it.

the past week had been strange. ambessa's usual sharp edges had softened into something almost tender, while sevika's messages had grown shorter, more distant. she’d eventually responded to the ones that had been read, but you felt as though you had disturbed her with them. you'd attributed it to work, to the upcoming shareholder conference business weekly had written about. you were good at making excuses for the people you loved.

and then you saw her.

ambessa stood on the stage like she'd been born there, her voice carrying across the room with the kind of authority that made everyone else feel small. her dress was long and white, with a delicate slit framing the plump skin of her thigh. it clung to her frame with an elegance that made your heart ache. you didn't want to admit how your chest tightened at the sight of her, how your body betrayed you with its instinctive pull toward her presence.

but before you could fully process the sight of her, another figure emerged from the crowd.

sevika.

she stood near the base of the stage, her broad frame impossible to miss. her presence was quieter than ambessa's, but no less commanding. the way she held herself—like she belonged here, like this was her world too—made something cold settle in your stomach. you shifted away from marcus, moved slightly forward with a furrowed brow.

it wasn't just their proximity—it was the way they moved. the way sevika's gaze lingered on ambessa, the subtle nods they exchanged, as if communicating in a language only they were privy to. and then, as if to confirm your worst fears, ambessa's hand brushed sevika's arm in a gesture so familiar, so natural, that the truth hit you like a truck.

the matching rings caught the light. the world tilted sideways.

the soft hum of conversation turned to static, the lights too bright, the room too warm. you tried to steady yourself, clutching the edge of a nearby cocktail table and nearly taking it down, but the weight of realization pressed down on you like a tide. marcus was asking after you, but you snapped at him.

you thought of the gifts—how similar their tastes had been. the way they both knew too much about each other’s companies, about each other's worlds. the little moments that should have added up but hadn't—because you hadn't wanted them to. you'd ignored the signs, wrapped yourself in their separate affections like blankets against the cold.

someone nearby whispered, "isn't that their…" the words trailed off, heavy with implication. you spun, eyes wide and searching. you couldn’t tell who had spoken.

the champagne glass slipped from your fingers. it didn't shatter—caught by a waiter's quick reflexes—but the sound of it leaving your hand seemed to echo through the room. both women turned at the noise, their expressions shifting from professional neutrality to something raw and complicated.

“do you know her?” the question came from a guest nearby, their curious tone laced with amusement.

the tension shattered. the murmurs began, the subtle shifts of the crowd as more guests turned to watch the unfolding spectacle. your voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the gathering noise like a blade.

“how long?”

ambessa stepped forward, her movements slow and deliberate, as if approaching a wounded animal. “it’s not what you think—”

“don’t,” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “don’t you dare lie to me.”

sevika tried to intervene, her hand reaching out as if to steady you, but you recoiled, your fury spilling over. “you both knew,” you said, your voice rising. “you knew, and you let me—”

sevika tried again."baby—"

"don't." the word came out hard and cold.

you backed away, your heels suddenly unsteady beneath you. the crowd parted like water, their whispers following you like shadows. you felt that your dress was transparent, exposing your body to the their ravaging gaze. you made it halfway down the marble steps before sevika caught your arm. her touch was warm, familiar—everything you'd grown to love and now couldn't bear.

"please," she said, her voice rough with something like desperation. she couldn’t possibly understand what it meant to be desperate. "please."

"let go of me." you tried to pull away, but she was stronger. had always been stronger.

"we never meant—"

"what?" your voice cracked. "to hurt me? to make me look like a fool? do you think i love being a loser? that i would be fine because i would view this as some way of knowing what it was like to win?" you yanked harder, and suddenly you were falling.

the puddle wasn't deep, but it was enough. your dress—ambessa's dress—soaked through instantly, clinging to your skin like shame. you stayed there on your hands and knees, watching your tears make ripples in dirty water.

"stand up," ambessa's voice came from behind you, softer than you'd ever heard it. “come inside. we can—”

"no." you pushed yourself to your feet, water streaming from ruined silk. your makeup was running—you could feel it tracking down your cheeks, and somehow that small detail destroyed you more than anything else. for the first time in a long time, you felt ugly. "i don’t want to come inside."

when you looked up, they were both there. ambessa's perfect composure had cracked, showing something raw underneath. sevika looked like she wanted to reach for you again but didn't dare.

"were you laughing about it?" your voice was barely audible. "about how pathetic i was, falling for both of you?"

"no," sevika said quickly. "god, no. we didn't even know—"

"until when?"

"a week ago," ambessa admitted. the truth fell between you, landed hard.

you stepped back, barefoot now, heels dangling from one hand. "oh my god. were you ever going to tell me?”

their silence was answer enough. the air around you grew thin.

a scream rose up from the depths of you before you could stop it, and echoed wildly from the sides of surrounding buildings. you clutched at your face, eyes screwing shut as you let out a terrible heaving noise. you knew they were seeing you now as you really were: a frantic girl who clasped desperately at whatever she could get in order to save herself.

“i hate you,” you screamed at them, hurling the words like they were knives. “i hate you! i never want you to speak to me again.”

it was rendered useless because the three of you knew that simply wasn’t the truth.

“just—leave me alone,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

their expressions were unreadable. if you gave in to your delusions, you could believe that ambessa looked slightly ill.

you walked away, legs shaking, each step carrying you further from everything you'd thought was real. behind you, you could hear them arguing in harsh whispers, but you didn't turn around. the city lights blurred through your tears until everything was just a soft shape and shadow.

your apartment felt suffocating when you returned, the silence oppressive in its stillness. you sank onto the couch, your dress pooling around you like a shroud. the tears came in waves, each one more relentless than the last.

you thought of ambessa’s calculated charm, sevika’s quiet strength, the way they’d both made you feel seen, cherished. and then you thought of the lies. you reached for your phone, your fingers trembling as you typed out a message. but no words came. what could you possibly say? that you hated them? you’d done that. that you missed them already? that you wouldn’t know how to exist without them?

instead, you deleted their numbers, one by one, the act feeling both liberating and excruciating. for the first time in what felt like forever, you were truly alone.

your mother was right. you were such a fun girl, but impossible to love. when someone looked at you, they’d never see someone worth settling down with. another wail unearthed itself, reverberating through the grave of your body. you twisted, holding yourself with your own arms as you felt the grief break you down.

you would never see them again. there was nothing worse than this, not now. you felt like you’d be better off dead.

ACT III: DEFORMATION.

ambessa hadn’t slept in days.

the boardroom’s fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across her sharp features as she reviewed contracts she couldn’t focus on. every word blurred into the next, her thoughts returning to the look on your face when the truth unraveled.

“i don’t think i can fix this,” she had told sevika the night it happened, her voice hollow as they sat in the dim confines of her private office.

sevika hadn’t responded, her silence cutting deeper than any argument could. ambessa could tell her wife blamed her, and in some ways, she couldn’t disagree.

sevika, in response, buried herself in her work. her nights were spent overseeing global operations, her jaw clenched tight as she barked orders to underlings down the phone who didn’t dare question her unrelenting pace.

but even the chaos of the company’s industrial sprawl couldn’t drown out the memory of you. the sound of your pleausre haunted her—high and wispy as she ate at you. her dreams were vivid, stuck on the way you’d lit up when you talked about the things you loved—things she hadn’t known enough to ask about.

they’d both lost you, and they felt it in the empty spaces you’d left behind.

ambessa, meanwhile, pulled back. she gave the reins to her daughter for an indeterminate amount of time, something viewed as largely positive and a sign of trust. but those who knew her interpreted it as a sign of grave danger.

her days were spent much like yours, wrapped in the endless heart of her bed which she only left to sink underneath the soapy water of a warm bath. there were several evenings where sevika would stumble home, slightly drunk but coherent enough to check on ambessa and yank her from the bottom of the bath.

“no,” she rasped, her hand tight on ambessa’s thick wrist. “you face it.”

and you?

well, eventually you realized that the world would continue to move on. blessedly, your breakdown hadn’t hit the headlines or social media platforms. you knew this had to be the work of them, but it was the least you deserved. you cut all arrangements you had leftover. the gifts were boxed up and put into storage.

despite your dramatics, you reminded yourself to not be stupid. all cash you had kept was deposited into your bank account, in increments so it wasn’t flagged as suspicious. you had well over thousands, so you broke your lease and found a block several miles from where you used to be.

you’d invited clleo to live with you, but she’d refused citing her current suitor as her preferred living situation. she felt that he was the one, that they would marry. you felt your bitterness rise up, but you shot it right in the middle of its scaled head. you were happy for her, you said instead of “he doesn’t mean it. please don’t believe him.”

please send an invite.

she’d cupped your face and kissed your cheek. of course. you’ve been with me through everything.

so, you broke another lease and left the city.

ACT IV: REVIVAL.

true to her word, clleo did get married, and she did more than invite you. you were her maid of honor; the only bridesmaid at that. this meant that you were captured into a lavish gown that showed more skin than you thought would be appropriate.

“we can’t forget where we came from,” clleo had said coquettishly, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. she treated you so fragilely now, and you clung to it. you were pretending it was something else.

the wedding was a spectacle of opulence—ivory drapes cascading from every corner of the venue, chandeliers dripping crystal tears, and flowers so fragrant they felt like an embrace. the air buzzed with the cloying sweetness of a celebration meant to declare love eternal. you floated through it all, a wraith in your own right, bound by duty and the magnetic pull of clleo’s joy. you wore the dress she picked for you: black satin that crushed in on itself like paper whenever you moved and clung like sin, with lace so delicate it felt like a secret. it revealed too much and not enough all at once. you wondered if she’d done it on purpose, if she’d wanted you to stand out or to feel exposed. to embarrass you.

no, this was clleo. you were simply…paranoid now.

the ceremony was a blur, a kaleidoscope of vows and veils, of clleo’s radiant smile and the way her hand trembled in her husband’s. you caught the bouquet because she’d aimed it at you, her laugh like champagne bubbles bursting in the air. it was later, during the reception, that you felt it—that electric hum at the back of your neck, the awareness of being watched. you turned, and there they were.

ambessa and sevika.

they stood together, an impenetrable force against the crowd. ambessa’s gaze was as sharp as ever, her golden gown gleaming meanly, a study in power and restraint. sevika, beside her, had the air of someone caught between worlds, her hand resting on a glass of something dark, her eyes locked on you. they hadn’t been invited. you knew this because clleo would have warned you. yet here they were, as if summoned by the threads of some cruel, cosmic joke.

your stomach tightened, but you refused to look away. instead, you tilted your chin, the soft wave of your hair catching the light, and took a slow sip of wine. if they wanted to haunt you, they would have to work for it.

it didn’t take long. ambessa approached first, her steps deliberate, her presence cutting through the crowd like a blade. “you look beautiful,” she said, her voice low enough that it felt like a secret. you hated how your skin warmed under her gaze.

“you shouldn’t be here,” you replied, though the edge in your voice felt dull, worn down by something deeper.

sevika joined her then, her expression inscrutable but her proximity unnerving. “we needed to see you,” she said, her voice rougher, as if it cost her something to speak.

“at a wedding? how romantic.” you let the words hang, your lips curving into a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “good thing it’s not mine.”

sevika’s lips twitched, and you scowled. your pain was not for her amusement.

“[name], we made mistakes,” ambessa said, and for the first time, there was something fragile in her tone, a crack in the glass. it distracted you from your ire. “but we haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

you set your glass down, your fingers trembling against the crystal stem. “i don’t think this is the time or place.”

“when is?” sevika countered, her voice steady but her eyes revealing something raw. “you’ve been avoiding us.”

“i said i never wanted to speak to either one of you again and yet, here you are,” you said, your voice sharper now, cutting through the haze of alcohol and longing. “do you think crashing a wedding will fix what you broke?”

ambessa’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t look away. “we’re not here to fix it. we’re here because we can’t let it end like this. and it’s not crashing if the groom extends an invite at the behest of the bride.”

your heart stuttered, and for a moment, the noise of the reception faded into a dull roar. clleo’s laughter rang out from somewhere behind you, a reminder of where you were, of what you’d tried so hard to rebuild. why did everyone betray you?

“i can’t do this,” you whispered, stepping back. the movement felt like tearing yourself in two.

“baby girl,” sevika said, her voice low, almost pleading. “look at me. this isn’t some big scheme, okay? let’s talk. we don’t even have to do it here. we can go anywhere you fucking want. just like before, mama.”

you shook your head, the weight of their words pressing against the fragile walls you’d built around yourself. “i need air,” you said, your voice barely audible, and before they could respond, you turned and slipped into the crowd.

“[name!]” ambessa called.

fuck being the tiger's bride, you were the tiger. you stood your ground, kept walking.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

the gardens were quiet, the air cool against your skin as you leaned against the wrought-iron railing. the night sky stretched endlessly above you, an intricate canvas of stars that felt too indifferent to your pain. but the world wasn’t responsible for soothing you.

you’d thought the distance would help, that the cool air would clear your head, but instead, it only magnified the ache in your chest.

you heard them before you saw them, the soft crunch of gravel underfoot. you didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge their presence, but you felt it—that charge, that unbearable pull that had slaughtered you repeatedly since the beginning.

“i didn’t ask you to follow me.”

“we’re not asking for forgiveness,” ambessa said, her voice soft but firm. “we are willing—we’re willing to take what we can get. we want to make this right.”

you turned then, your eyes meeting hers, and for the first time, you saw it—the vulnerability, the regret. sevika stood slightly behind her, her expression shadowed but her eyes fixed on you with the same intensity.

“and what does that look like?” you asked, your voice breaking despite yourself. “what could you possibly do to undo the damage?”

ambessa stepped closer, her hand hovering near yours but not quite touching. “we can’t undo it,” she admitted. “but we can promise to be better. to show you that you’re the only thing that matters.”

“you’re both so good with words. but words don’t mean anything if they’re not backed by action.” you laughed then, a bitter sound that cut through the stillness. “you always made me feel like i mattered. that’s why it hurt so much. i have no place between you.

sevika finally spoke, her voice quieter but no less resolute. “then let us prove it. on your terms.”

“you’re not good for me.”

ambessa glided forward, caught your chin inbetween her thumb and index finger.

“nothing in this world that we want with so much intensity will ever be good for us.”

you looked between them, your heart a battlefield between desire and self-preservation. the silence stretched, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. finally, you broke out of her grasp, a small, tentative gesture that felt like stepping off a cliff.

“i have no place between you,” you said again, your voice barely more than a whisper.

sevika's shoulders sagged with disappointment, but ambessa’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. she was like a bloodhound with weakness.

“is that what you want, lamb?” you looked up at her, sensing a shift in the air. “you want to be between us? coddled, warm, and safe?”

“ambessa—” sevika began, but the other woman held up a hand.

“you would’ve been fine if you had know that we were married from the beginning, hmm? is that it? your conscience would’ve been sated, right? because it’s not homewrecking or infidelity if the partners are aware of the others transgressions.”

“that’s not fair,” you snapped.

“mmm, well life isn’t. besides, you must be stupid if you think every client you’ve been with hasn’t once had someone waiting at home. this is your life, little lamb. your permanent affliction,” ambessa sneered. “i think you like it.”

you knew this game well. she pushed you, said the best things to make you act your worst. if you gave in, she won.

“fuck you, ambessa.”

“gladly,” she said with a small smile.

you scoffed, irritated beyond belief and moved to storm past her. by doing so, you gave her what she wanted. as you made an effort to leave, she cinched your waist with her arm and pulled you back into her chest. you could feel her breasts against your back, full and ripe like fruit.

“what are you doing?” you asked incredulously.

she didn’t answer, only hiked your dress up to press a ringed hand to your cunt. she held it there, groping the warmth of you until you were leaking in response. you let out a strangled squeal, legs kicking to no avail.

“see? you want us so badly. it’s like an instinct.”

you glanced at sevika, hoping for some fucking common sense but found her gazing at your lace-clad panties with something unfathomly angry lurking across her face.

“who the fuck gave you those?” she said quietly.

you stopped struggling, looking at her fully now. her stormy gaze lifted, piercing you like a spear through weak flesh.

“it wasn’t me, and ambessa never gifted you shit like this.”

“i had—i had other clients,” you answered and she rolled her shoulders, skulking forward. “but i bought these myself. i don’t see anyone else anymore. i can’t—i couldn’t. it was hard.”

her face softened at that, and she came closer. her large body covered the front of you, shielding your exposed body from any prying eyes. this meant that ambessa could slide the fabric to the side and dip a finger into your cunt. the slide was slick due to your drooling arousal, but the pain still startled you.

she was large, almost too much, but it seemed to burst a part of you that had been straining at its locks. you let loose a silent cry, shuddering desperately in her grasp as she explored you tenderly. sevika cooed, claiming your mouth in a bruising kiss.

“hold on,” she murmured into your mouth and you clutched onto her, gripping tighter as ambessa gave you over.

sevika walked you over to a small alcove, expertly hidden from immediate vision and grunted as she held you up with one arm—removing her jacket with the other. once the concrete floor was covered appropriately, she lowered you on top of it carefully.

you released her, but barely had a moment to thank her before she was on you. your first thought was that it was like before: relentless, tender, and crushing. her hands slid up your thighs until they grasped at your hips. you rocked into her, moaning softly as she squeezed the soft meat of your stomach. your breath came fast, labored and fueled by aching.

“it’s okay, baby. ‘m right here,” sevika said, her voice low and firm.

she pulled back, spreading your legs till the pink of your pussy was revealed to her hungry gaze. it winked at her, clenching around nothing the longer she looked.

“jesus, i’ve missed this,” she murmured.

you flushed, body pulsing hot with flame. from the side of you, ambessa came prowling. she lowered herself to her knees, back arching neatly as she crawled into the apex of your thighs. her mouth descended upon you with a fervor, her lips closing around your clit and sucking. your back bowed until you were practically hunched over her, hands in her thick hair.

she only adjusted herself so that she could better lick into you, her tongue lapping at every crevice of your cunt. you were dripping all over her face, hips bucking as you fucked forward onto her tongue. her hands came to cup the peach of your ass, squeezing and tugging until you felt like nothing more than a piece of meat. after a moment, ambessa pulled back and laughed as you tried to follow.

“sorry, little lamb, but i need to know if i’m doing a good job” she watched you, eyes sharp. “i know you are.”

you shivered at that, and she smiled. impatiently, you further opened your legs and pushed your sopping pussy toward her.

“c’mon. please.” when nothing happened, you let out a groan. “you’re doing a good job.”

“who’s doing a good job?” ambessa asked, moving closer.

you shivered again, your brain beginning to mottle and smear.

“you are, mommy.”

“fuck,” sevika groaned.

satisfied, ambessa suctioned her lips back over you. you let out a high moan, pushing your chest out. sevika reached over, tugging the bust down and exposing your tits. your nipples were straining toward her, so she dragged one in between your teeth. with a cry of surprise, you slammed your thighs closed around ambessa’s bobbing head. she did nothing to open them herself, only slapped a hand on your inner thigh to get you to correct yourself.

“yes, fuck,” you cried. “fuck, please. please. ohhhh.”

ambessa shook her head back and forth, letting herself get messy as she pushed her face deeper inside of your pussy. you were fully fucking her face now, your clit engorged and begging. whatever filter you’d had before was gone now; your mouth ran like water from a faucet.

“yeah. yeah, mommy, like that. eat your baby’s cunt. lick your girl’s pink little pussy.”

ambessa moaned, her nails digging into the skin of your ass. you bounced as much as you could, that warmth coiling deep inside your stomach. sevika was still teasing your tits, but she had a hand inside of herslef now—her pants pushed down for better access.

when you realized she was trying to rub one out, you came with a primal grunt. ambessa attempted to pull back but you kept her where she was with a firm hand at the nape of her neck. breathlessly, you coaxed sevika up for a kiss and then pulled her away by her hair.

“i want you to touch her,” you instructed. your voice was shaky as you edged toward your second orgasm.

it took her a minute to register what you meant and you watched her cheeks darken, her eyes flickering toward ambessa’s rippling back inbetween your legs and then back to you.

“i know you want to, sevi,” you murmured.

your mind was almost gone now; you were so close to heaven.

you could see her warring with herself, but you also knew her love for you would win out. with a curt nod, she moved until she was behind ambessa and lifted her dress until she was face to face with her naked ass. with an efficent movement, sevika pushed ambessa’s legs open so she could smell the musk of her large cunt. there was a moment where you weren’t sure if she would obey, but then she dived in—licking a large stripe between ambessa’s folds. you seized around ambessa’s tongue as she squealed in surprise, your orgasm pouring from you like honey.

you puhsed her off of you and crawled onto all fours, squatting slightly to make the push of your fingers easier as you entered yourself. despite not pleasuring you anymore, ambessa made no effort to move as sevika slapped a hand on her ass as she slurped at her pussy.

“holy shit,” ambessa muttered and you grinned.

“have you—have you touched each other like this before?” you asked, voice breaking as you reached that spot long your walls. “did you fuck when i left to try to stave the guilt?”

there was no answer, but ambessa stiffened. you laughed, bright and a little unhinged. it was confirmation that they’d thought about, but had never actually followed through. you were in a squatting position now, positioning your hips as you rode your own fingers. you wrist twinged in discomfort, but you were more determined to cum for a third time.

faster and faster, you rode. your head was turned up toward the ceiling of the alcove, your tits bouncing as you began to crest that wave. you closed your eyes, focusing on the shaky inhales of ambessa and the wet squelches of sevika feasting on her.

there was a pause, so you opened your eyes and found sevika flipping ambessa over so that the bigger woman sat on her face. like this, she was even more insatiable. she rocked ambessa back and forth on her face, spreading her own thighs weakly as heat cascaded through her.

you weren’t sure what did it: sevika’s newfound desperation to actually fuck her wife, ambessa’s unrelenting eye contact as she came, or the high whine sevika released when ambessa leaned back to fuck two fingers into her frantically pulsing cunt.

but whatever it was ravaged you. you screamed as you came for the third time, legs trembling as you squirted all over yourself and sevika’s suit jacket. the comedown was impossible. you were incoherent, moaning wildly as the pleasure possessed you.

you heard them both scrambling to move toward you, but you held a hand out. your neck bent, your body settling onto all fours like a lame animal as you let your cunt flutter and clench through the remnants of your orgasm. your chest heaved frantically, but you were euphoric. you’d done it, reached Heaven and taken control.

you glanced up at them and know from the look on their faces, you’ve never been this beautiful. if this was what the french called a little death, you wanted to die forever.

“this is your place,” ambessa said hoarsely. “you belong right in the center. you are the only one who understands. you are our center.”

sevika lay next to her, and she said nothing for a long while. then her face turned toward you. you met her gaze unflinching.

“baby girl, please. please.”

you thought you were the loser.

“it has to be different,” you finally said. the two women broke into identical smiles. “it has to be. i want you to be transparent with me. i’m not a little child.”

you thought you were down for the count.

“like you said,” you continued, staring right at them. “you are my life. this is my life.”

but here you were, the last woman standing.

© hcneymooners.

⚚ special taglist: @venusiandyke @thatonetargaryen @drgnflyteabox @y2kas13 @baeumonde @blackdykegirlblogger @slut4sevika @sevikasllver @indigopearl96 @dut1fuldyk3 @imheadintothemountains @bambishaven @kirammansbow @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @nightlyconfusion @sevikasrightboob @half-of-a-gay @nsfwruru @yourlovesicklibra @tnash-tammy @sweetcinnamoncookie6 @bluferret @doppelman @savedforlaterr @sevikasserafim @fruitfulfashion @soniiyi @namuranguinhos @16novvs @bubblestrbls @spidercat-soccerfan @pllduniverse @sugrcookiiee @iwasholic @sevslefthand @starting6over @fxngsfxgxrty @leone007 @ambessaswhore @jvalentinelvr @bella-goths-wife @maaaaaaaaaaari @elena0497 @powderpinkandsweeet @sweetcinnamoncookie6 @pearldaisy @sevikas-whore @wolfessa @lazyartizt

[ashhbookmarks]

Freedom far away - R

Happy Lunar New Year! I've been struggling with my life, which has kept me busy since the end of last year. One of my favourite movies is Howl's Moving Castle.

Fem Reader X Agatha X Rio

Part A | Part B | Part C&D | Part E | Part F | Part G | Part H | Part I&J | Part K | Part L | Part M | Part N | Part O&P | Part Q | Part R | Epilogue

Warning: Imply of miscarriage may be disturbing to some readers

The days after your awakening passed in a blur of quiet moments, whispered reassurances, and an undercurrent of unspoken tension. Though your body was still sore, Rio and Agatha’s unwavering care surrounded you like a protective shield. Each of them had their own way of comforting you—Agatha with her sharp, focused attention and Rio with her softer, playful banter. The two were always by your side, except for brief moments when one would leave to attend to something urgent, though you suspected they never went far.

It was during one of these quiet evenings, the fire crackling softly in the hearth, that the conversation shifted to the future.

“We’ve closed all the gates,” Agatha said, her voice calm but resolute as she stood by the window, her gaze fixed on the star-filled expanse of their realm. “All except one.”

You sat curled up in a plush chair near the fire, Rio’s hand resting lightly on your knee. “The one to my city?” you asked, your voice still hoarse but gaining strength.

Agatha turned to face you, her sharp blue eyes meeting yours. “Yes. It’s heavily warded—no one can pass through it uninvited.” Her lips tightened before she added, “I left it for you. If you ever decide to see your sister…or your brother again.”

The mention of your siblings brought a pang of emotion, both longing and apprehension. You hadn’t seen them since that fateful night, and while part of you yearned to reconnect, another part feared what lay beyond the safety of this world.

Rio’s grip on your knee tightened ever so slightly. “It’ll be there when you’re ready, love,” she said, her voice warm and steady.

For a moment, silence settled over the room, broken only by the gentle crackle of the fire. You glanced between the two women who had become your everything, your heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you,” you murmured. “For everything.”

Agatha crossed the room in a few strides, kneeling beside your chair. Her hand brushed against your cheek, her touch warm and grounding. “You don’t need to thank us,” she said softly, her sharp features gentled by the vulnerability she rarely showed. “This is your home now, just as much as it’s ours.”

You reached for her hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. “It means more than you know.”

-------

The decision to move wasn’t born out of dissatisfaction; it was born out of love. Agatha and Rio wanted to show you the world, to remind you that life existed beyond the safety of their sanctuary. That quiet realm would always be there, a constant in your lives, but they both knew it wasn’t enough. You deserved to see and experience more, to step beyond the comfortable boundaries you’d built around yourself since your awakening.

It was Agatha who brought it up one evening, her sharp eyes softened by the flickering firelight. “You’ve spent enough time hiding away from who you are,” she said, her voice steady but tender. “We want to show you the world, on your terms, of course. Somewhere you can come and go as you please.”

Rio, lounging beside you as usual, added with a grin, “And what better way than with a house infused with our magic? One that can take us wherever we need to be. A little taste of adventure, with none of the hassle.”

You glanced between them, your heart swelling with gratitude. They had already given you so much, and now they were offering this—a home that could be a gateway to the world. “I’d like that,” you said softly, your voice laced with quiet excitement. “I’d like to see what’s out there.”

The house came to life with their combined magic, every inch of it woven with care and intention. It was cosy, with dark wood beams and stone walls, the kind of place that immediately felt lived in. A fire always burned warmly in the hearth, and the scent of fresh bread and herbs lingered in the air. It was a sanctuary in its own right—but its true wonder lay in the door.

Crafted from enchanted wood, the door stood at the centre of the house, marked with four distinct sigils. Each sigil represented a different place, and with a simple turn of the handle, the door would shift to reveal a new world beyond its frame.

-------

The first sigil led to a seaside town, its air thick with the scent of salt and brine. The fish market buzzed with life, vendors calling out their wares as boats bobbed in the harbour. The waves crashed rhythmically against the docks, a soothing melody that followed you wherever you went.

The first time you stepped through the door, the scent of salt and brine filled your lungs, crisp and bracing. A gust of wind carried the calls of seagulls overhead, their cries mingling with the distant chatter of merchants. The cobbled streets beneath your feet were damp from the ocean spray, and before you even took another step, Rio stretched her arms over her head and grinned.

"Now this is more like it," she sighed, closing her eyes as if soaking in the very essence of the town.

Agatha, standing at your side, remained composed as always, but there was an unmistakable glint of satisfaction in her sharp blue eyes. "It’s a working town," she noted, scanning the busy port ahead. "You’ll like it here."

And she was right.

The town was alive with movement—fishermen unloading crates of fresh seafood from their boats, shopkeepers arranging their displays, children running barefoot along the docks with wind-tangled hair and sunburnt cheeks. The market was the heart of it all, bursting with energy as people haggled, laughed, and shared stories over counters stacked high with glistening fish, fragrant spices, and woven baskets filled with dried seaweed.

Rio, always drawn to the livelier parts of a place, immediately made herself at home. You watched as she leaned over a stall, chatting with an old woman selling skewered seafood grilled over hot coals. Moments later, she returned, passing you one without hesitation.

"Eat," she said simply, grinning as she took a bite of her own.

The taste was smoky and rich, laced with a hint of salt from the sea air. Warmth settled in your chest as you chewed, watching Rio’s excitement as she scanned the stalls for the next thing to try. Agatha, ever the observer, simply took it all in, her gaze lingering on you every so often, as if assessing how you were adjusting.

That evening, you stood by the docks, watching the waves crash gently against the wooden posts. The lanterns swayed in the breeze, their golden light reflected in the dark water below. The town was nothing like the realm you had come from, but it was beautiful in its own way—alive, untamed, full of stories waiting to be told.

"You don’t have to love it right away," Agatha murmured beside you, her voice low and steady. "But you should at least give it a chance."

You exhaled, the weight in your chest loosening just a little.

"I think I already do."

-------

The second sigil opened to a meadow of wildflowers, vibrant and unending. The breeze carried the sweet aroma of blossoms, and the grass seemed to shimmer under the golden sunlight. In the evenings, fireflies lit up the horizon, painting the scene in soft, glowing hues. It was a place of serenity, where time seemed to stretch and still.

The transition from the bustling seaside to the meadow was almost jarring. One moment, you were surrounded by the salty tang of the ocean; the next, you were enveloped in the scent of sun-warmed grass and wildflowers.

The world stretched out before you in endless shades of green and gold, rolling hills blanketed in vibrant blossoms. The sky overhead was impossibly blue, the clouds drifting lazily as if they, too, had nowhere to be.

Rio spun in a slow circle, arms wide, breathing in deeply. "This," she declared, "is paradise."

And it was.

The meadow was quiet, but not silent—birds chirped from the nearby trees, the wind whispered through the tall grass, and somewhere in the distance, a small brook babbled over smooth stones. The ground was soft beneath your feet, and the sheer openness of the space made it feel like you had stepped into a dream.

Agatha led the way to a lone tree near the crest of a hill, its thick branches offering shade from the warm sunlight. It became your spot almost instantly, a place to lay back and watch the clouds shift, to listen to the rustling leaves and let your mind wander.

Days here passed slowly, unhurried and peaceful. Rio would chase after butterflies with mock seriousness, her laughter echoing through the open fields. Agatha would find a quiet spot to clean her dusty tomes or read, though she was always aware of everything happening around her. And you… you simply existed in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

At night, the meadow transformed. The fireflies came first, glowing softly as they flitted through the grass, like tiny stars that had fallen from the sky. The air cooled, carrying the distant hoot of an owl, and the world became something utterly magical.

One evening, as you lay beneath the tree with Rio’s head resting in your lap, Agatha sat beside you, her fingers idly tracing patterns in the dirt.

"You like it here," she observed.

You smiled, watching as Rio dozed peacefully, the fireflies reflecting in her dark hair. "Yeah," you admitted. "I really do."

And just like that, the meadow became another home.

-------

The third sigil brought you to the bustling heart of a foreign capital city. Streets teemed with life, the hum of countless conversations blending with the music of street performers. Market stalls overflowed with treasures from around the world, and towering buildings framed the sky, glowing with lanterns and lights as night fell. It was a place of discovery and excitement, where new adventures awaited at every turn.

If the seaside was full of life and the meadow was a place of peace, then the capital city was pure energy.

The door opened to a narrow alleyway, its walls adorned with vibrant posters in a language you couldn’t read. The air was thick with the scent of sizzling street food, smoke curling into the fire-lit sky. Beyond the alley, the streets pulsed with life—vendors shouting their wares, musicians strumming their instruments, carriages and horses weaving through the crowded roads.

Rio practically vibrated with excitement. "Now this is my kind of place."

Agatha, on the other hand, immediately fell into observation mode, her gaze sweeping the streets, calculating every possible escape route, every place someone could hide a weapon.

You simply took it all in.

There was something intoxicating about the city—the way the streets pulsed like veins, the way the people moved like they were part of something bigger than themselves. Every corner held something new—smoky teahouses hidden behind plain wooden doors, underground bookshops where rare tomes were traded like secrets, towering palaces that stood in stark contrast to the chaos below.

You spent your days exploring, tasting foods you couldn’t name, losing yourselves in the twisting streets. Rio thrived in the chaos, always darting ahead to see what was around the next corner. Agatha remained at your side, her steady presence keeping you grounded in the overwhelming tide of sound and colour.

One night, as you stood on a high balcony overlooking the glowing sprawl of the city, you found yourself smiling.

"You don’t seem overwhelmed," Agatha remarked, studying you with quiet curiosity.

You turned to her, feeling the hum of the city beneath your feet. "I think… I like it here," you admitted. "It’s alive."

And for the first time in a long while, so were you.

And the fourth sigil—the one that meant the most—always brought you home. Back to their realm, their sanctuary. No matter how far you travelled, how much you explored, there was always a door waiting to take you back  to the place where you were safe, where you were loved.

The sanctuary was unchanged, its quiet presence as steady as ever. The familiar trees, the ever-burning hearth, the way the realm hummed with power—it was your anchor, your foundation.

But as you stood before the door, ready to choose your next destination, you realised something: you weren’t the same person who had stepped through it the first time.

Agatha had been right. You had spent too long hiding away. But now, you had seen the world, breathed in its air, tasted its stories. And you weren’t done yet.

With a glance at Rio and Agatha, you reached for the door.

"Where to next?"

-------

The fire crackled softly in the hearth as the three of you sat together, the warmth of the flames casting long shadows across the room. You rested between Agatha and Rio, your head on Rio’s shoulder while Agatha’s fingers played absently with yours. The comfort of their presence was as familiar as the rhythm of your own heartbeat, yet tonight, something unspoken lingered in the air.

“I’ve been thinking,” you began softly, breaking the silence. Your voice wavered slightly, and you took a steadying breath. “About…about the baby.”

The room seemed to still, even the flames quieting their dance. Rio’s hand tightened slightly on your shoulder, and Agatha’s fingers stilled against yours.

“I didn’t even know,” you continued, your voice trembling. “And because I didn’t know…I couldn’t protect them. I couldn’t protect what was ours.”

Rio leaned down, her lips brushing against the top of your head. “You didn’t fail them,” she said quietly, her voice filled with conviction. “What happened wasn’t your fault, love.”

Agatha’s grip on your hand tightened. “You didn’t even have the chance to know,” she murmured, her voice unusually soft. “And it was stolen from all of us.”

Your chest tightened at her words, and you turned to look at her, meeting her sharp blue eyes. “I can’t help but feel like I failed,” you admitted, tears welling in your eyes. “Like I failed you both.”

Agatha reached out, her other hand brushing against your cheek. “You didn’t fail us,” she said firmly. “And you didn’t fail them. What happened was because of him, not you.”

Rio’s voice, low and soothing, joined in. “We can’t change what happened. But what we can do is honour them by building the future they couldn’t have.”

You blinked back tears, your gaze shifting between the two women who had become your world. “Do you really think…we could have children? Even after everything?”

A soft smile curved Agatha’s lips, her usual sharpness tempered by something tender. “Of course, we can,” she said. “And this time, we’ll protect them. Together.”

Rio chuckled lightly, her dark eyes twinkling with affection. “We’ve already shown we’re excellent at protecting what’s ours,” she teased, her tone playful. “Why not add a few more to the mix?”

A small laugh escaped you despite the heaviness in your heart. “You make it sound so easy,” you said, shaking your head.

“It won’t be easy,” Agatha admitted, her fingers brushing against yours again. “But nothing worth having ever is.”

Rio shifted slightly, turning so she could meet your gaze fully. “Do you want this, love?” she asked, her tone serious now. “Do you want to try for children? Because if you do, we’ll make it happen.”

You hesitated, not because you didn’t want it, but because the weight of the decision felt so immense. Finally, you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I do. I want that. I want to build something with you both. A family.”

Agatha leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Then it’s settled,” she said, her voice steady and certain. “We’ll try.”

Rio’s grin returned wide and mischievous. “And you know,” she said, her tone turning playful, “with Agatha’s particular talents and my…creative enthusiasm, we’re bound to succeed.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and free despite the lingering ache in your chest. “I’m going to regret agreeing to this, aren’t I?” you teased, your eyes shining affectionately.

Agatha smirked, her fingers trailing along your hand. “Only a little,” she said. “But trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

Rio pulled you closer, her lips brushing against your temple. “We’ll make sure of that,” she promised softly.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the ache in your heart began to ease, replaced by a fragile but growing hope. As the three of you sat together, the firelight illuminating the room, you allowed yourself to dream of what could be—a future filled with love, laughter, and the family you’d create together.

Agatha, her expression soft but with a mischievous glint in her eye, broke the silence with a playful suggestion. “Why wait? We could start now.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, but before you could reply, Rio stood with you in her arms in one smooth motion, lifting you effortlessly. Her grin was devilish, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “I like the way you think,” she said, her tone playful yet warm.

“Rio!” you shrieked, laughter bubbling up as you tried to push her away, though your protests were half-hearted. “Not now!”

Agatha chuckled, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “You’re lucky we adore you,” she teased, her tone light but filled with affection.

Rio’s laugh was rich and infectious as she gently set you back on your feet, her hands lingering on your waist. “Fine, fine,” she relented, though the mischievous glint in her eye remained. “But don’t think you’re getting out of this that easily.”

Still laughing, you shook your head, warmth blooming in your chest as you looked between them. You didn’t know what the future would hold, but in that moment, surrounded by their love and laughter, you felt ready to face it.

Agatha and Rio’s magic had created something extraordinary—a home that moved with you, a gateway to endless possibilities. And as you stood in the cosy living room, surrounded by the warmth of the hearth and the steady presence of the two women who had become your everything, you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time: hope.

This wasn’t just a house. It was freedom. It was love. It was the start of something new.

[ashhbookmarks]

Stolen Power

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Female Reader

Summary: Agent Prentiss cuts you a deal that you cannot refuse.

Genre: Smut, (strap-ons, roleplay, restraints, light gunplay, praise, scratching, semi-public sex, teasing, humiliation, coercion, power dynamics), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 2.2k.

This piece is for day 2 of kinktober under the 'roleplay' prompt.

More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.

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The glacial metal of handcuffs encircled your wrists, tightly, bound to leave engravings in the wake of their agonising hold. Emily had delighted in the prospect of incapacitating you, trapped inside the four walls of the interrogation room, anchored to a chair. 

“You’ve been a bad, bad girl, haven’t you?” Her enjoyment was blatant, striding around the room with a confidence that radiated in abundance, a powerfulness that until now, had remained undiscovered. 

“You tell me,” you challenged, dauntlessly, “I thought it was your job to figure that out or am I mistaken?”

“Agent Prentiss,” Emily corrected, sternly, her eyes narrowed in displeasure as she sauntered sexily towards you. “You will address me as Agent Prentiss, is that clear?”

The newfound dominance undeniably looked good on her, the sparkles that flickered in her dark irises causing shivers to suffuse along your spine. A subtle smirk plucked at the corner of her mouth, a glimpse of brilliant white peeking out from behind cherry-stained lips. Suddenly, the countless times she had spent gasping below you evaporated from your mind, replaced with a new reality that rendered you helpless and entirely at her mercy.

“Yes, Agent Prentiss.”

“You know, I’m going to put you away for a long time,” she threatened, huskily, a finger snaking its way beneath your chin, forced to meet her unwavering gaze. “And I don’t think you’ll do too well in prison.”

An audible gulp freed itself from you, your attention momentarily diverted to the cleavage that had jostled its way out from the deep teal silk that shrouded it. The stolen glance did not go unnoticed as Emily withdrew from you, a scoff of disapproval bursting out into the silence.

“Oh, I’ll be just fine,” you countered, smugly, intent on riling her enough to draw her back to you. “I’m sure the girls in prison will really appreciate what I have to give, Agent Prentiss.”

And then, a twinkle of unrestrained thrill flared amidst the onyx and without time to calibrate, she had strutted her way back to you, a hand clasped harshly around your throat. 

“That pretty mouth will get you in trouble,” Emily warned, vehemently, her tongue swiping the underside of her teeth, her glare unabated, stricken with lust.

Emily battled earnestly to conceal her arousal from you to no avail, this pretence of anger as flimsy as the silk she wore. In fact, the fervour that clouded her seemed to permeate the room with such intensity that the air had grown thick, torrid. 

“My mouth can do a lot of things, Agent Prentiss,” you provoked, undeterred by the way her grasp toughened around your words. “But that isn’t all I have to offer.”

With a forceful jolt, Emily released you, a certain curiosity cloaking her expression as she paused to rake her eyes over the entirety of your frame. Boldly, you drove your hips up from the chair, your attempt at an escape thwarted instantly by the sudden emergence of Emily’s gun unholstered and prodding into your sternum. 

The severity of the threat had stunned you into rigidity, oxygen evading you more now than when Emily had deliberately restricted it earlier with her hands. Silence prevailed, obstructed only by the quaking breaths that emitted from you, the force of her gun dissipating until she halted, the pistol trained on the space betwixt your thighs. A subconscious shiver rattled its way over you, secretly enthralled by her supremacy, the gun merely deepening the allure. You weren’t scared at all, no, you were excited. 

“I thought I frisked you for weapons,” Emily uttered, shaking her head lightly as she drew backwards, quick to rescind the threat and deposit her pistol upon the table.

“Not well enough,” you mused, taunting her, the materialisation of Emily’s roaming hands occurring to you as they smoothed over the bulge you were hiding.  “You want to see what it can do, Agent Prentiss?”

A sharp exhale sounded from her, tongue sneaking out to paint a fresh coat of saliva over her lips until they glistened beneath the piercing light. 

“You see, a gun incites fear, will have you begging for your life,” you acknowledged, a short-lived vibration shuddering over you as Emily unzipped your trousers and hustled the appendage from its confinements. “But this, Agent Prentiss…” you smirked, revelling in the way that her lip had found itself pinched firmly between her teeth, “this will make you scream, make you beg for more.”

A wry chuckle sprung from her as she regarded you, surprisingly unaffected by your persistent torment. In an instant, her fist wrapped itself snugly around the base of the strap on. And then, she leaned in tantalisingly close, her breath tousling softly against your ear.

“I’m willing to cut you a deal,” she whispered, enticingly, her head bowing slightly to lick a searing stripe across your pulse point and immediately setting you ablaze. “But, I’m going to need something from you first.”

“I’m listening,” you mumbled, half-convincingly, your mind positively possessed by sinful reveries, Emily at the centre of them all. 

“You get me off,” she drawled, sultrily, a series of fleeting pecks pressed to your jaw, “and I’ll let you walk, no questions asked.”

“You’ve got a deal, Agent Prentiss,” you acceded, keenly, a hum of amusement rumbling from her. “Please, get me out of these cuffs and I promise to give you exactly what you want,” you blurted, “No games-”

“No deal,” Emily rebutted, decisively, eliciting a huff of disappointment from you. “The cuffs stay on,” she reiterated, her eyebrow twitching upwards in a wordless warning, “I’m a big girl, I’m sure I can get what I want from you all on my own. You just sit still and be good for me, hm?”

“Yes, Agent Prentiss,” you nodded, her words inspiring sparks of arousal to form and persist, “I’ll do whatever you ask.”

A palpable tension descended, only amplifying when Emily yanked herself away from you and began to unbutton her shirt. The article of clothing was not entirely abandoned, left to splay open freely as Emily shot a cautious look towards the camera that surveyed every angle of the room from above. Bizarrely, the continual red light that beamed outward from it waned to black, and you were unable to shake the gnawing feeling that it wasn’t quite a coincidence at all.

The flash of indigo lace haunted you, approaching until it saturated your vision and the welcome weight of Emily settled into your lap. The intricate patterns of her bra nuzzled against your shirt, soft strands of silver tickling the skin of your cheeks, her breasts almost close enough for you to pepper kisses upon. 

“You’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?” Emily questioned, a hint of reticence in her voice as though she was not yet convinced, her hands groping roughly at your breasts as if she was trying to coax out a favourable answer.

The pleasant sensation that bloomed below her exertions saw your wrists twisting aimlessly in the handcuffs, intent on liberation. But the flitting pleasure ceased almost as promptly as it had arrived, Emily’s dazzling orbs hurling daggers as she awaited your response.

“Yes, I’ll be good, Agent Prentiss,” you affirmed, eagerly, though on the interior, you weren’t nearly as confident in your claim. “I promise.”

Emily wrestled an arm around your neck for leverage, her fingernails scraping against the bone of your shoulder blade, destined to inscribe crescents of scarlet thereafter.

“Time to put that pretty mouth to good use,” Emily ruled, her free hand tugging at the lace until her breast sprung forth, her nipple tactfully manipulated into your hungry mouth. “Suck,” she barked, her teeth gritted, and you were more than willing to devour her.

A lengthened hum of contentment rumbled in her throat, her rosy bud stiffening as you pursed your lips around it and suckled with vigour, the occasional flick of your tongue across its surface activating an erratic jerk of her hips. Her sturdy grasp locked you in place, her skin smothering you so delightfully that breathing no longer mattered, too absorbed in the task that she had assigned. You vowed to make her time worthwhile.

“Such a good girl for me,” Emily purred, the gyration of her hips becoming more coordinated, a rhythm falling into place, the strap on nudging against your stomach as she rutted fervently against it. “Don’t stop, just like that.”

The pleasured expression that claimed her features blossomed with clarity, the transcendence of her beauty only invigorating your need to please her. Your tongue manoeuvred ardently, desperate to will more of her into your mouth and satisfy your insatiable hunger. And when she rolled her hips with added force, her jaw slackening as she dragged in a panting breath, you were met with the indisputable reality that you were spellbound, foreordained to fulfil her every demand.

“Oh, fuck,” she quavered, an air of franticness befalling as she disengaged from you, her hands in a frenzy as she purged herself of the trousers she donned. “I think it's time for you to uphold your end of the deal, hm?”

Veiled below translucent, indigo lace, Emily presented herself in all of her glory, a knowing smirk glued to her lips. Coherent thought eluded you altogether, the words that lingered in your mind instantaneously kissed away the moment you caught sight of her.

Emily snickered in amusement, “See something you like?”

“Yes, Agent Prentiss,” you choked out, your mouth uncomfortably dry, your thighs shifting in anticipation of her residence upon them.

“I’ll ask you again,” she growled, provocatively, her hands cinching at her hipbones. “Are you going to give me what I want?”

You nodded avidly, “Of course, Agent Prentiss, anything.”

Emily returned to you in haste, her fingers tracing downwards until they had successfully ripped aside her panties, revealing her arousal. She wasted no time, a trembling moan escaping as she sank down upon your strap on, her weight shifting a little as she readjusted to its size.

“Fuck, it’s big,” she hissed, her tone brimming with zeal as she knotted her arms securely around your neck, her lips temptingly close to your own. “Such a good girl filling me up so well.”

A string of stifled expletives tore from her, hips undulating at a painstaking pace, so torturous that you were certain this little display was a bid to stave off a brewing climax. The metal rattled audibly as you writhed forcibly in the cuffs, the dulling pain of their imprints becoming more noticeable, maddening.

“Aww, poor thing can’t even touch me,” Emily gibed, breathlessly. “You just have to sit there and watch me use you to get off. But, I bet you like that, don’t you, huh?”

“I want to touch you,” you protested, mindlessly, too intoxicated by Emily’s sensual motions to think of anything except having your hands on her. “Please, Agent Prentiss, let me touch you.”

“Nu-uh,” she crooned, a slender digit pressed firmly to your lips as she continued to rock her hips, unperturbed by your resistance. “Good girls do as they’re… told,” she explained, her words briefly obstructed by a sudden gasp of mirth. “Keep your eyes on me, pretty girl,” she instructed, “don’t make me call off the deal.”

Shameless groans sprinkled the silence, Emily’s brow tinged with perspiration as she quickened the pace that she had initially established. The sounds that emitted from below were nothing short of obscene, your eyes flickering downward to regard the way her pussy swallowed the length so effortlessly.

Emily noted the shift in your focus, her forehead pressed against yours to hold your attention captive for a moment. “Do you see how wet I am?” She whispered in sheer delight, “and it's all because of you, pretty girl.”

A pitiful mewl discharged from you, unchecked, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, certain that your skin glowed visibly in pink. Emily let out a breathy chortle, a surge in her expeditiousness only furthering your sense that she was approaching the apex of something more.

Bravely, you drove your hips to meet her movement, her head thrown backwards in utter surprise as you pushed in to the hilt, her hands clinging to you with a force so brutal that it brought a grimace to your face.

“Naughty,” she spat, her breasts bouncing ruthlessly out from her bra as you continued to jog your hips with reckless abandon, her whimpers emboldening you. “Gonna be good and make me cum, hm? That’s it, pretty girl, yes, make me cum all for you.”

Emily’s fingers lowered to rub senselessly at her clit, her climax soon coursing through her body and ripping a loudened squeal from her lips. The muscles of her thighs fluttered in your lap, her breathing heavy, erratic.

“I see why you like being in charge,” Emily admitted, breathily, a chaste kiss delivered to your lips as an afterthought. “It was kind of fun.”

“We could always do it again,” you suggested, observing with a knowing smile as Emily shook her head in conclusive disagreement.

“It’s so tiring,” she whined, wearily, her head drooping forward to rest upon your shoulder. “Besides, I’m all out of favours with Garcia after this one.”

Curiously, you peered upward, noting the re-emergence of the red light and panicking a little inside. “Well, I think she might’ve jumped the gun,” you revealed, nervously, “Because someone’s definitely watching us.”

“Well, fuck.”

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[ashhbookmarks]

sing with me please

emily prentiss x singer!reader

prompt: reader and emily are dating and she’s a rising artist on her first small tour. she’s been gone for weeks but is back in dc for a show. obviously emily is there and reader begs for emily to come on stage and sing their song with her to close out the show.

a/n: au inspired by this picture of paget and this series i’ve been writing for myself about a singing reader/oc. also this is not proofread at all. let me know what you think— and if you’re interested in more stuff like this :)

song featured : juna - clairo

“God, i can’t wait to see you.” y/n breathed down the phone quietly.

“Oh trust me, I’m right there with you. I’m starting to think I should’ve just taken the time off and gone with you.” Emily groaned into the phone from her desk.

“Oh I don’t want to hear it, I tried everything I could to get you to come along. And I mean everything. But you’re married to the job.” y/n replied with a tease.

“Aw, come on. I feel like I haven’t been here long enough to take three months off to follow my pop star girlfriend on her first-ever tour. Plus, it’s not like the world knows who you write all those love songs about anyway. And stop saying I’m married to the job, you know I hate that.” Emily all but whined.

“Right right right. Well, none of that matters now, because in just a few hours you’ll be front-row being serenaded for a good two hours.”

Emily grinned at the thought of having her girlfriend’s attention in a room full of fans. “Having my favorite singer’s attention in a room full of her adoring fans, sounds like a dream come true. What time should I get there?”

“Looks like this shoot is going to run over, so I might not be able to see you before the show. Either way, DeeDee has your name on the list already so you’ll be taken to your seat as soon as you’re there. Are you bringing anyone with you? I can give DeeDee their names too.” y/n rambled in thought.

Emily eyed the bullpen curiously, she hadn’t exactly thought to ask if anyone wanted to go with her. It felt a little too personal and after all this time on the team, she feared Garcia’s reaction to her having a serious girlfriend without her knowledge. “No, it’ll just be me. I’m sure everyone has plans. It is Friday after all.”

y/n chuckled softly at her girlfriend’s words, “Okay, make sure you text me when you get to the venue so I can let everyone know.”

“Yes ma’am. And after the show?” Emily asked hopefully. She really missed having her girlfriend home.

“I’m DC based for the next three months.” y/n grinned.

“Oh thank God.” Emily sighed in relief causing y/n to giggle softly.

“You can thank DeeDee for convincing the label to let me write and record here.”

“Well DeeDee has a very expensive bottle of wine with her name on it.”

There was a bit of shuffling on the other end of the phone and Emily knew the signs all too well, “Listen Em, I’ve got to go. They’re ready for the next outfit. Remember to text me.”

“Okay, I will. I’ll see you later.” Emily smiled.

“Yes, see you later. Love you.” y/n whispered before ending the call and handing her phone back to her manager.

-

“Hi DC.” y/n spoke into the microphone with a bright smile. The room filled with cheers almost instantly as she spoke and her cheeks grew red under the praise. “Oh you all are too sweet. How are we feeling tonight?”

y/n scanned the audience waving happily until her eyes fell on the VIP area she’d requested for Emily. Her eyes lighting up instantly as she caught Emily with her hands cupped around her mouth cheering with the other fans in the room. Sending a wink in her direction y/n spoke in the mic, “You all look so beautiful tonight. Thank you so much for coming out to my final show on my first tour. It’s been so fun meeting and talking to everyone but I’m very happy to be home. With that being said, let make this the best show yet!”

-

Emily was on cloud nine. She was absolutely beaming with pride and she couldn’t think of any place she’d rather be. When y/n said she’d be serenading her all night, she really hadn’t been kidding. As much as she could without making it too obvious, she practically spent the last two hours gazing lovingly into Emily’s eyes. And Emily felt mighty special. Her favorite voice, just for her.

“DC you’ve been so amazing tonight. I don’t think I’ve felt this happy in a long time. My favorite city, in a room full of my favorite people. It’s so so good to be home.” y/n spoke as the band set up for the last song of the night. “As you all know, we’re on our very last song and as much as I hate to end this night– I’m so excited to sleep in my own bed.”

y/n sat on the stool center stage and shuffled some papers on her music stand with a smile. She looked over to Emily with a mischievous smile that had her heart trying to beat out of her chest.

“This last one is very very special to me. It’s my biggest song and the reason I’m even on this tour. But more importantly, it’s about the most important person in my life. My love, my light, my muse.” y/n spoke eyes trained on Emily the entire time. The room awed and cheered happily at the mention of their favorite artist’s secret girlfriend. “I’m lucky to have her here with me tonight and I know she’s going to hate me for this but I wanna do something a lil different for my last show. Em, will you sing with me?”

Emily’s face was beyond red. She was staring at her girlfriend in shock and awe. Not only had she just told this room of people she was the muse for most of her discography but now she wanted her to get up on the stage to sing with her. She was shaking her head in disbelief and fear before she could even think about it. And she looked at her girlfriend like she’d grown a second head.

This only made y/n smile more, “Please Em. You’re my favorite duet partner and I’ve missed singing with you more than anything.”

Emily was cracking. Between y/n’s words and the adorable pout she was sporting there was only so much more she could take from the woman she loved before giving in.

“Everyone, let’s give her some encouragement. Can we chant ‘Emily!’? y/n asked the audience and like the loyal fans they are, their screams filled the room. And there was really nothing Emily could do at that point. Throwing her hands up in surrender, she walked toward the stage looking extremely nervous as the room cheered.

y/n moved to help Emily up the stairs and onto the stage with a blinding smile. “I can’t believe you just did that.” Emily grumbled softly as she rested her forehead against her girlfriend’s.

“Kinda surprised you came up.” y/n grinned so hard her cheeks hurt.

“Well, you unfortunately know that i will do anything for you baby. and you sure know how to milk it.” Emily replied and smiled as y/n pulled her toward the stool. She sat Emily down and turned toward the crowd.

“Alright everybody, this is the last one. If you know it sing along.” y/n placed the microphone on the mic stand. She could practically feel Emily’s nerves radiating off of her but knew once this moment would live with them for as long as they lived. y/n stood between her legs and placed a kiss on her nose lovingly before cueing the band to start the song. “Just you and me, like at home.” She coaxed before she started singing the opening line of the song.

“Come to me slowly. It's when you talk close enough that I feel it on my skin, breathe it in.”

The room buzzed in anticipation when y/n nudged Emily softly and stroked her cheek in encouragement. Emily was nervous but she truly felt like she could do anything with her girlfriend’s eyes trained on her. “Most of these days I don’t get too intimate. Why would I let you in? But I think again.”

y/n smiled instantly, throwing in some of the background vocals while Emily sang. She started timidly but with the love shining in y/n’s eyes, she grew more confident with the words. Plus the cheers from the audience helped quite a bit. They joined together sweetly, Emily taking the melody and y/n harmonizing with her as they went. “I don’t even try. I don’t have to think. With you, there’s no pretending.”

When they got to the chorus y/n smiled and turned her head to the crowd, “Come on everyone, You know me, you know me. And I just might know you too.”

The smiles on both women’s faces were permanent as y/n pulled Emily up to dance with her across the stage. In a room surrounded by people who loved her girlfriend, she knew without a doubt that none of them could compete with her. They finished the song with the help of the crowd and when the music came to an end, everyone screamed their appreciation. y/n grabbed Emily’s hand and pulled her into center stage with a laugh.

“DC, give it up for the love of my life!” And despite y/n’s hand on the small of her back, Emily timidly tried to hide from the praise. The applause died down a bit and they wished everyone a farewell before heading backstage.

Finally in the quiet of her dressing room, y/n pulled Emily into a bruising kiss. Pulling away was not a priority, but when it became a necessity their foreheads rested together.

“DC give it up for the love of my life?” Emily teased.

“Yeah. That’s you.” y/n shrugged with a smile.

“Mmhmm, is that so?” Emily asked, squeezing her waist.

“It better be so. I’m sure it’s all over the internet by now babe.”

Emily groaned, “Of course it is. You are so lucky I love you.”

y/n shrugged with a smile and reached up to pinch Emily’s cheek, “Oh I know baby, and I wake up every morning so grateful. And lucky me, I get to wake up in your arms for the next three months.”

Emily sighed happily, pulling the singer into a hug. She mentally prayed for the serial killers of the world to chill out for the foreseeable future and kissed y/n’s head. “Welcome home my love.”

-

y/n

liked by prentissemily, and 9,000 others

dc, i love you. but not as much as i love em.

thank you for an amazing first tour. my heart is so full and i can’t wait for the next one. y/n 2 loading…

ps. whoever took that second picture— i owe you my LIFE

pennythegreat @prentissemily — rue when was this?

prentissemily literally what does this mean?

prentissemily my superstar xx

y/n my muse xx

[ashhbookmarks]

Thread

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Younger!Rhaenyra Targaryen x Fem!Reader

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Ask by @loveislove4 : Hey I was wondering if I could request and rhaenyra fem!reader where rhaenyra and the reader have been together since they were young but through time the reader starts to feel used and unwanted by rhaenyra because of all the men she has put before and she try’s yo leave but rhaenyra seizes her and holds her captive

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 1.3k

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: yandere behavior, slight dark rhaenyra, being held captive, reader sadness, angst, DARK!THEMES, toxic!Rhaenyra, suggestive topics. Don’t come for me. I support my queen.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ fades notes: my first request since the new season

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

The side of Rhaenyra Targaryen is where you stood all your life, even if you had a choice or not.

Things began when you were chosen to be one of her ladies by coming from a great family. There was nervous but skip in your step when you got to kings landing for the first time, anxious to meet the year older princess. And you weren’t sure if you could be good enough for her but you had brought a lovely gift for her.

A hand stitched dragon.

You fiddled with the cloth behind your back as you bowed at her presence. The day was warm with a comfortable breeze and the garden was blooming with beauty. But you had never seen something more beautiful then the young white haired girl. 

The girls beside you stood in a line and you could tell everyone was just as nervous, but they had more social skills. The bugs in your stomach made you feel sickly, so staying a good distance was all you could do. Each girl swarmed around the princess and overflowed her with comments and ask her questions of all sorts. About her dragon and what it’s like to ride one, or how beautiful her dress was and the brightness of her hair.

Standing just beside the table you look curiously at the princess, she had a glint in her eyes unmatched to anyone else. A mischievous smile as she teased the others by answering their questions. You heard of Targaryen features and she had the best of the stories.

A blush swept over your cheeks when you realized you’re staring, so you turned to the cup in your hands and played with the metal and carvings. Glancing over to the stitch you made for her—embarrassment filled you at how every detail was off. You worked hard of course, but her napkins must be more fancy then it and without mistakes.

Frowning your brows you glare down at the cloth. You shouldn’t be here if you can’t even talk to the princess. How could you be friends if you can’t speak? Though the Targaryen princess noticed you too, the only girl away from her and took silence. She was intrigued by you since everyone alway wanted to talk to her and these girls threw themselves at her feet.

She dismissed the others and headed over to you, you didn’t notice at first. Her hands grabbed a small pie and your eyes finally met her but slowly reaching up to her eyes. The moment of realization was pleasant to watch, the wide eyed expression and a soft gasp and fumbling over yourself to bow at her.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” she teased, you swear in the second she would bite. You set down the cup on the table and wiped of the palms of your hands quickly, “Forgive me, your grace. I didn’t want to overwhelm you, I- um,” you lose your words as she bats her eyelashes at you and tilts her head like you are the most interesting thing. The gaze felt mischievous, like she was making fun of you or wanted you to break.

Watching her eyes drift down to the corners of the table you frowned and rushed to grab the stupid gift. You laugh nervousness and picked at the sticked out threads, “Tell me, is the apple pie good?” You choked over your dried throat, maybe she would talk about anything else. Your wishes aren’t granted, her hand extends out and flicks her eyes to the stitch.

Heavily you handed over the cloth for her judgement you felt more sick then before. Shifting from foot to foot as her eyes trailed over the gift, and you couldn’t wait to see if the gods would strike you down. “You made this?” you nodded to the question.

“Sincerest apologies, it was my first attempt at making a dragon—”

“I shall hang it up on my wall,” she flashed a smile and threw herself at you and tugged you close to her side, “I shall show you Syrax, she is perfect to paint or stitch.”

As years go by the attraction and affection of Rhaenyra grow stronger. She is the only person who demands your attention and hates when it’s on someone else. And romantic feelings come fast, but only when she is a bit older do you both share your first kiss. You are her main priority. The world is made to make you smile and she will do anything to have you stay by her side.

At first it was heavenly, so much passion and love. She watches you like a hawk to make sure no one takes you, gifts you jewelry to claim you in plan sight. She clings to your side after the passing of her mother and most night she ends up in your arms. Of course things could never go smoothly forever as her ego grew larger, she played with her protector and never spent time with you anymore. Unless she needs to be held.

“Don’t act like this,” she groaned as rubbed her temple at your outburst, her chamber filled with yelling and cries from you. You scuffed and crossed your arms, “Act reasonable? I am tired of being treated like a toy unworthy of respect and love, only to call on at night for comfort or affection.” The pointed glare you gave made her eyes roll.

Shaking her head, she smiles like you are crazy, like you aren’t even worth hearing. “I am the heir to the throne, what do you want me to do? Drop all my duties and cater to your needs?” thats the irony because you do that just for her, you have refused countless proposals to stay by her side.

But that had stopped a few weeks ago.

“You never have to,” the anger continued to make you tear up in frustration and grabbed a letter from the table and throw it to her direction. She gave a puzzled look at you before opening the letter to read what was inside. And you hate to admit— you felt satisfied at the shocked and scared look in her eyes.

“Your father granted us permission, seeing as I was a loyal lady for you for years. My things are already being packed,” you calm down your voice and straighten your dress to take a few breaths. “Let me never be a burden again like you think of me. Nor, someone who you use like a pawn.” glory was a amazing feeling as you expressed your feelings, and the feeling of being freed from the pain she caused.

The door was right there, but she blocked the way with a bitter expression you never seen. You stopped and tightened your jaw to seem unaffected by her tempts. “You think you can leave after everything. No matter what you think,” she stepped forward and you tried to back up but she grabbed ahold of your wrist. “You are mine, and I love you.” trying to pull away from her got her more upset.

“I will not let you leave me.” You broke free from her grasp only for her shout for her guards and they came flooding in at her command. The skin in your wrist pulsed in pain. “She is to be taken to her room and locked in, and not to be let out by any means.” she demanded to the men. The guards look at each other wandering if the order is right to do.

“I am the heir,” she roared and the noise made all ears ring, so they did their job and grab you by the arms as you struggle against them.

“You can’t do this, Rhaenyra. Stop this at once.” your pleads fall death to her ears as she gave a victorious smirk as you are dragging into the hall.

There was no escaping Rhaenyra Targaryen. Not when she controlled the thread of your life.

[ashhbookmarks]

This is Her Trying

sum: she sold out every value she holds dear, even a person. That happens to be you. So, one night after Voit’s little game, she speeds to your apartment in hopes you’ll still want her.

(is there a lot of music references? Yes.)

WARNING: BIG ANGSTY, smoking, some fluff?

Emily saw this coming, with the way everything was happening. The BAU hadn’t taken up a case they couldn’t solve, it just seems that now they’ve met their match. Emily didn’t want it to be true, no, she just couldn’t accept that. She was too prideful to give up.

That also meant doing everything in her power to solve this case, even if it meant pushing the boundaries of the law. She hated that she even considered doing it, so why do it at all? That was a question she asked herself often. Sometimes she sat in her chair wondering if Hotch would be disappointed in her. Or if he would tell her that she ‘needn’t worry’ even though she should.

In the midst of all this ‘Gold Star’ business happening, she was also pushing you away. Not noticing the hurt facial expression you made at her clearly not wanting your presence. She pushed you away so much that she had forgotten how much peace you’d bring her. Even Rossi had warned her to go home but she never did listen, she did what she thought was best. But sometimes she couldn’t think for herself.

—

“Shouldn’t you head home to see the Mrs?” Rossi asked, driving them back after Emily had gotten arrested. The truth was, she wanted to go home, she was just too scared that you too would be disappointed in her, and she’d rather not have the person she loved the most think I’ll of her. “She knows I’m out, it’s fine..” The silver-haired woman grumbled, picking at her thumb nail again. Someday she’d get over the whole thumb thing but now was not the time. All that she was focused on was Brian Garrity being on the top of her list to be killed off if she ever did spiral into madness; which she was already on the brink of.

Dave looked at her with this face, it was his ‘I know you better than you think, please don’t lie to me right now’ face. Emily huffed, groaning as she flopped her head into her hands. “It’s been almost 3 days, Emily. A hello or hug would suffice” He tutted, even after all these years he still had to teach her fatherly advice.

“She’ll survive, Dave, she’s not going anywhere” Emily seethed, her emotions slightly breaking loose, the Italian took note of her behavior. As he pulled back into the parking lot, he stopped the engine, turning to look at her with a soft expression.

“If I’ve learned anything from my marriages is, never make them wait for you. Because the hardest feeling is choosing whether to wait or give up” He says, exiting the car first to let Emily think.

—

The Unit Chief sat on the rooftop again, the cigarette she was smoking, balanced between her fingers. She only smoked when she was really stressed, that seemed to be almost every day now. You had told her to stop smoking but old habits die hard.

Ever since that call she had about being on restricted duty she felt like she was completely under the water, she couldn’t breathe. The feeling on being dragged down over and over again was starting to get to her. This definitely wasn’t her first rodeo but it was starting to feel like her last. She kept telling herself to keep pushing and they’d solve this but maybe, for once, they’ve gotten a case they won’t figure out.

The BAU was crumbling around them, the public was already trampling on the name. But if they didn’t figure this out, what was the point of anything? What was the point of all this work if she couldn’t even save herself?

How could she protect her team when her choices were the ones hurting them? She’d been dying inside since Bailey’s death. She couldn’t give up now, she had to figure this out so he didn’t die in vain. But she wanted to give up, it was so much easier to lay down and die.

This isn’t how she imagined she’d end up. A broken marriage, at least she thought so, a broken team, a broken case, everything was tumbling down and she didn’t have the energy to build them back up anymore. She always wondered how some people could die with so much happiness accepting that they didn’t do everything they wanted to. That was one of the qualities that made you fall for her.

She didn’t stop till she got what she wanted. That’s how you agreed to go on one date with her. At first you didn’t want to, not wanting to be with someone so ambitious since it could end badly, later she showed you that you were the only one she wanted.

Letting out a shaking breath, Emily looked below, the who-ing of the owls seemed to be her only company that night. The stars were shining above her, she was jealous of them. How could they live so peacefully without worry. They were taunting her with their beauty.

Almost like the first time you and her met. She smiled at the memory, her time of youth escaped her but she never seemed to forget it.

~~

You were one of Garcia‘s friends, she met you during one of her baking lessons, and got to know you during one of her cooking lessons. You were skilled in both, your nimble fingers kneading the dough, your hands holding the sharp knife as you made precise cuts on the vegetables.

Emily could’ve never been prepared for the day you’d given Penelope a visit at work. She practically choked on her coffee the moment you walked in. You were stunning, your eyes soft like the rain morning, your face free from blemishes and impurities, even your hands looked extremely agile. Your presence alone cast an ethereal radiance around the room. “Hi, I’m Y/n Y/l/n, it’s nice to meet you…?”

Your brow arched, signaling her to introduce herself, Emily quickly stumbled to her feet with a goofy smile. She was enchanted by your shining smile. Internally, she was panicking so bad she couldn’t even think about what comes out of her mouth next, she was too busy staring at your tits.

“Prentits, Emily” she said a little too confidently, she slapped a hand over her mouth as Morgan barrel rolled on the floor in laughter. Rossi, JJ, and Penelope were snickering in the background. Hotch and Reid stood with shocked expressions, for once Aaron had cracked a smile.

”I’m sorry! I meant Emily Prentiss, it’s nice to meet you as well” her voice got more silent with each word, the red hue over taking her face. You laughed, “it’s okay, Emily,” you leaned into her ear, “but next time just ask to look at them”

~~

Emily snorted to herself, still looking into the dark nothingness below her. A soft chuckle escaped her, even the darkness seemed more peaceful than whatever she had going on. In those few minutes that she had stared into the oblivion, she realized, it wasn’t too late to fix things. At least with you anyway, she just hoped that you’d still want her after everything she had put you through.

The guilt of leaving you alone for so long clawed at her. As she now hurried down the halls, she thought of you. That smile that could make her melt, the laugh that could infect anybody, and those arms that held her close when no one understood her.

Even in the car, the first thing that played was your favorite song. She slammed her fist against the console, the pain was agonizing but that was the least of her problems. Her fingers gripped around the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white and cramped. As she speeded home, she realized that she dearly missed your lips. Your soft, delicate, and loving lips. Even the first time the both of you had said you loved each other, she knew that you were gonna kiss her in a way that was gonna screw her up forever.

At the door of your shared house, she felt a sinking feeling in her chest, her hands turned clammy. It was like she was sent back to when she was ask you out on a date again. Except this time she was asking for your forgiveness.

She brought out her house keys, unlocked the door, and stepped in. The inside was still dimly lit so she knew you were awake, probably staying up late again. “Baby? I’m home!” Emily called out, shutting the door behind her, making sure to lock it before venturing deeper into the home. She heard shuffling from upstairs, it stopped for a moment before the sound of your footsteps made their way down. She was nervous, the smell of smoke on her clothes. It stood out from the scent of the rest of the house.

It smelt of you and your soft smelling vanilla perfume. You smiled seeing her, though the emotions in you remained conflicted. “Em, you’re home, I thought you were gonna be working late again” You chuckled lightly, nothing was funny. She messed up and you knew it, she knew it. So, why couldn’t you just go ahead and scream your feelings out. That’s what you wanted to do days ago, but not that you see her face…you don’t feel so angry anymore.

“No, I needed to come home. I needed to see you, I’m-” Emily abruptly stopped her sentence to swallow the sound of her breaking voice, she never minded being emotional in front of you. Now, she couldn’t bear to cry in front of you. She felt she didn’t deserve to, you’re the victim here, after all. It was selfish to take that away from you. She was selfish. That’s all she had been for weeks now.

“I’m going insane, y/n. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, I’m not alright.” She admitted it, she was scared and confused. She felt like some little kid in the corner after doing something bad and not knowing it was bad. She didn’t know how to cope with any of this. It was too big to do alone. She couldn’t ask you to help her, not when she’s already taken so much from you.

As Emily’s eyes began to sting, the tears pooling. Yet, she didn’t let them fall. She couldn’t, it wasn’t right. “You smell like smoke again, what happened this time?” You asked, brushing past her and walking into the kitchen. You fixed Emily a glass of cold water, “I messed up some case, I’m on restricted duty. The BAU is Dave’s now. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” She said through a shaky sigh, leaning on the kitchen island, the marble cold to the touch. You were slightly shocked that she would actually tell you, most of the time she wouldn’t tell you anything. You understood that even knowing a little bit could endanger you both so you never pressed. “Have you eaten?”

Emily crossed her arms, sniffling and looking at her with a blank expression. You knew that look, she was trying to profile you. “Emily, if you’re trying to profile me, it’s not gonna work.” You said sternly, getting the ingredients out for beef and broccoli, one of her favorites.

“Okay, I’m sorry…” she replied, biting her lip. “No, I haven’t” she added after a moment of silence. You smiled to yourself, “Good, I haven’t had dinner yet”

The silence was oddly comfortable, it gave Emily a sense of false comfort. She watched you cook as she idly played with her fingers. You could’ve called it a night ages ago and gone to bed not talking to her at all. Instead, you chose to stay and make food. You always stayed silent when you were mad, you came from a home with screaming being the norm. You hated yelling at someone out of anger, you hated it with your heart and soul. Even now if someone yells at you in anger, the tears will pool and won’t stop streaming down your face. Your breathing turns shallow and the tightness in your chest the least of your concerns.

As you finished cooking the food, the steam drifted into the air, eventually filling up the whole kitchen. Both of you quickly ate the food, silently glancing at each ofher when the other ‘wasn’t’ looking. Emily didn’t know what to say, and you didn’t want to say anything.

The older woman went upstairs to change, and hopefully get a shower. It had been a few days since she’s had a good shower. One where she felt relaxed and fresh. You washed the dishes, humming to yourself as you thought about the situiation you were in. You wanted so badly to be angry with her but, there was something that kept you from feeling anything about what was happening. Your face would contort into an expression of anger but you didn’t feel it.

You completed the rest of the cleaning and headed upstairs, maybe you’d be able to get a good sleep tonight. You always slept best with Emily in bed with you, she just gave you a sense of comfort that no one else could give you.

Already being in some pjs, you brushed your teeth, and washed your face. With a heavy sigh, you pulled your body up to sit on the counter. You had grabbed your phone, scrolling on social media as you flossed with a floss pick. You heard the shower stop but you didn’t look up, too interested in a News article you read. It was an article about ‘Gold Star’. A case Emily was on, he was clearly dangerous and had already killed the spouse of one of his latest victims who was also a cop. That must’ve been why she’s been down at the office, at least, that’s what you heard from Pen.

“Damn it…” Emily muttered, pulling a silk robe over her thin pjs. Her hair was soaking wet, and her face free of makeup, she was looking for something. “Have you seen my towel?” She asked, looking at the rack then back inside the shower. You looked down and saw you were sitting on it, lifting a thigh, you grabbed it and handed it to her.

She smiled at you, drying her silver locks with the towel. Walking over to the sink, she began doing her skincare routine. You stared at her, a blank expression on your face, she looked so focused.

You felt the urge to reach out and touch her face when she finished, she looked like a supermodel in this light. I’m any light actually, she was a timeless beauty you couldn’t get enough of. That was when you felt it, the subtle shake of your hands, the sting of your eyes, the flips of your stomach, the drowning feeling, and the way you bit the inside of your cheek.

Emily looked at herself in the mirror before looking over at you with concern, your eyes filled with hurt. She hummed softly, placing a hand on yours, squeezing it as a way to ground you. “I love you, Emily Prentiss…so much that you piss me off,” You said with a hushed tone, as if you’d be scolded for speaking normally.

“I love you more, my precious girl” Emily kissed each of your knuckles, kissing up your arm as she moved to slip herself in between your legs. She eventually got up to kiss your lips, it was quick, a big dose of comfort, for Emily at least.

“Don’t say things that aren’t true…” You insisted, placing your hands on her shoulders, the robe damp from her wet hair. “You left me, for almost a whole week with minimal to no contact, you didn’t even check in with me so I knew you were alive and breathing.”

Emily looked down in shame, she wished to take it all back. “I had to hold on to the hope that you were okay, and I had to get updates from the team, who you never seem to interact with anyway.” You sniffled, toying with her hair. “I know about this whole ‘Gold Star’ thing. The information it public, most of it anyway. So, please tell me what’s bothering you. Please…” You admitted, holding her face so she would look at you.

“Baby, Gold Star…he’s a dangerous man, after what happened with Don Bertoli” she paused, wiping her tears away, refusing to let them fall. She’s been doing that often now, you noticed since she was always comfortable crying around you. “I couldn’t handle you living in fear, I couldn’t hand us living in fear. A part of it was because I was so focused on this case, I hardly thought about anything else other than the case, and you. I know that sounds weird but, every decision I made was made because I thought I could protect you.” She kissed your palm, looking at you with the same adoration and love she had been for years, “If Don, this big muscular man, can’t stop him from killing his wife. How can I stop him?” She sobbed, hugging you close.

“Ever since this case even started, I changed so much. I hate it. I let a serial killer out of his cage to work among profilers like he meant something. I kept a secret from JJ that I shouldn’t have, I ruled over my team like a tyrant instead of working with them. I’m…turning into my mother, just like I thought I would. But the only question I have is…why haven’t you left me yet?” Emily sniffled, tears stains on your sleep attire. You pulled away from the hug and held her head, wiping away the tears with your thumbs.

She looked so fragile, like could crack of you touched her. You rarely saw her break, Emily was always the strong one even in the relationship. She took pride in opening jars, carrying bags, doing any sort of lifting. She also compartmentalized like her life depended on it because it kind of did.

”You are not going to be like your mother, you are my wonderful, amazing, ambitious, smart, hilarious, stunning, annoying wife. You’re my everything in one and I love you for it. I haven’t left you because I made a very important promise to be yours forever. I intend to keep that promise, no matter what. Also, last time I checked, you have the most awesome team. So, if you fess up and take responsibility, they’ll accept you. Remember that you have to earn that trust back but, I know you care.” Emily let out a choked sob, she loved you more than anything. What did she do to deserve you?

“When you were gone that long, I didn’t mind that much. Until you stopped texting me back, I didn’t hear from you for days. I panicked, thinking you were mad and I spiraled, every possible out come in my head played out beside for this” You said, tucking a piece of damp hair behind her ear.

“What I mean is, I’m not going to tell you that this was okay, what I am gonna tell you is that I love you despite what happened.” You pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, she was hurting, you could tell from her face and mannerisms. You felt like you had spent a whole lifetime memorizing everything about her. Sometimes, it scared you. You knew things about her that even her team didn’t know, for you knew they’d never know.

With that, Emily burst into tears, hugging you tightly, pulling you as close to her as she could.

You’ve missed her dearly, nothing in existence or nonexistent could keep you from loving her. You feel every emotion at once yet none could rival the pure love you felt for the woman. She’s gone through hell & earth to have you. Now, you were ready to do the same for her.

She’s saved you from a maniac serial killer once, the least you could do was be here when you needed her. You knew she’d return the favor, you preferred to have her be alright before returning anything. After all, you taught middle schoolers for a living, you had your moments but thankfully there was never anything much.

“I’m sorry, so, so sorry” She sobbed, her head buried in between the crevice between your neck and shoulder. Her body slotted so perfectly with yours that you were convinced she was made for you. “I forgive you, always”

You felt her arms tighten around you, she sniffled looking up into your eyes. Pressing a kiss to your lips, she played with your hair, twirling it between her fingers.

She didn’t know what was waiting for her in the future, she was unsure of a lot of things. One thing was certain, that you were hers, and she was yours. She find a way to cross realities if it meant being with you.

As the night went on, both felt as though they could stay their forever. Intertwined. Sewn together. Forevermore.

—————

UHM. THIS WAS IN MY DRAFTS FOR A WHILE.

This is a nice appetizer for all the fics I’m about to serve to you guysssss. I hope you enjoyed restricted duty Emily :)

[ashhbookmarks]

The Vow Spoken Through Time

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Warnings: MDNI, mild smut (at the end), threesome 

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: ~1.9K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“God my head fucking hurts,” you whine, sitting up to rub your eyes. “That wine really hit out of nowhere.” Your head pounds, it has to be part of a hangover. The last thing you remember before drinking yourself to sleep was getting fired. Your boss hadn’t even had the decency to let you know face to face. An HR representative and your manager requested a zoom call at the end of the day and politely told you to ‘clean your desk.’

After nearly three years of work with the same accounting firm, it was weird to not wake up early and head into the office. The worst part really was that your performance was still stellar, the firm was just hemorrhaging money after several questionable expansions. 

Despite the pounding headache and sensitivity to light, you force yourself to open your eyes. “What the fuck?!” Glancing around the room frantically, you panic as you realize you weren’t waking up in the comfort of your room. You had to be the subject of some prank reality tv show because the decor was undoubtedly some renaissance festival shit. The walls were brick with large tapestries decorating the stone. You were laid in the center of a giant four poster bed, black and red canopies flowing.

Slipping from the tangle of sheets and blankets, you pad towards the door. “Okay,” you call out, “you got me. Very funny.” 

Silence. 

“This is so weird” you murmur, pushing the door open as gently as possible to peak out. A woman rushes by you, dressed in some kind of drab linen and an apron. “Excuse me!” you shout, attempting to get her attention. 

The short woman slowed down, stopping to curtsy quickly at the sight of you. “My lady, forgive me. I didn’t you see you there!”

“My lady?” You asked. “What are you talking about? This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny, my lady,” she replied quietly. “Please don’t tell your wife I was making jokes! I swear I meant no harm-”

“My wife?!” Everyone has officially gone off the deep end. First this medieval times shit, now apparently you have a wife.

The woman’s eyes go wide, “Your wife, Queen Rhaenyra. My lady, are you unwell?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I have no idea what’s going on. I lost my job. I don’t know where I am or apparently who I am. I just want-” You choke off into sobs.

“Let me help you back to your room,” she offered, taking your elbow. “I’ll let the Queen know you’re unwell.”

You nodded, letting her lead you back into the room. The woman helped you into a steaming bath and left you to soak while she fetched your wife. “Can’t believe someone made an honest woman of me,” you laugh.

At some point, the entire situation stopped feeling like a prank. Maybe it was watching the maid fill the tub painstakingly bucket by bucket, or the significant lack of electricity. Either way, your situation was beginning to feel more and more real. You grab the bar of soap and lather up a cloth, scrubbing furiously at your skin. 

“That’s weird,” you murmur as you notice that your skin seems far too perfect. You usually had a couple scars littering your arms and legs, leftovers from frequently crashing your bike as a kid and general clumsiness. They all seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving nothing but perfectly smooth, supple skin behind. “Okay, I’m officially going crazy.”

You see a small mirror on the ledge next to the tub, and reach out with shaky hands. You sigh in relief as you glance into the mirror and see that you look the same. At least you have something familiar here.

“Admiring the view? I know I am.” A deep voice purred from behind you.

Tossing the mirror back, you swiftly cover your chest and pray that the water obscurs the rest of you. “What the fuck?!” You yell, turning to confront whatever pervert decided to interrupt your bath. A tall man towered over the tub, his white hair practically glowing as the candlelight reflected off of it.

“I’m trying to have an existential crisis in here,” you hiss. “Can you come back later or something?”

He snorted a laugh, stalking forward to grab a brush from the side table and sit behind you. “And miss this opportunity? I should think not, my love.” He gently began detangling your hair and brushing it out. 

“My love? You do know I’m a married woman?” You retort.

“You never let me forget,” he replied, kissing the top of your hair. 

“I mean I have a wife, asshole!” You twist around to snatch the brush from his hands, but he lifts it out of your reach.

“What a coincidence,” he purrs, blatantly staring at your breasts. “I do too. Two, if I’m not mistaken.” His eyes dart down to your left hand, as if he knows something you don’t.

You glance at the ring that’s been there since you woke up. The black metal has a dragon insignia that looks awfully similar to the embroidery on this man’s shirt. “Fuck.” 

The man’s brows furrow, “what’s wrong?” He sets the brush down, grabbing a sheet and pulling you from the bath. He wraps you up and sits you in his lap. The warmth seeping into your skin feels so familiar and you feel yourself begin to break. Tears stream down your cheeks, and you burrow your face into his neck to hide them. 

Warm hands rub up and down your back soothingly. “My love, I cannot fix whatever is wrong if you don’t tell me.” He hums. “You don’t even have to tell me. Just give Rhaenyra a name and I will ensure whoever made you cry will never breathe again.”

You laugh at the irony. “I don’t know who Rhaenyra is. I’m not sure I even know who I am.” 

Before he can respond, a door slams. “Daemon, thank Gods you’re here. The maid said y/n was acting ill and didn’t rememb-” 

Your head peaks up over the man–Daemon’s shoulder to see the woman who ran in. Her hair is just as white as Daemon’s and her clothing adorned with the same dragon insignia. This must be Queen Rhaenyra.

“Y/n?!” Rhaenyra rushes over, kissing your cheek before she hugs you tightly. 

“My queen,” Daemon greets, leaning in for a kiss. You find yourself pressed between the two, and as much as you don’t want to admit it….the warmth and pressure feels comforting…like home. 

“I hate to break this up,” you say, wiping the last of your tears away. “But can someone tell me what is going on. The last thing I remember was being fired, getting wine drunk, and going to bed early.”

“Fired?” Rhaenyra looked confused and immediately started inspecting every exposed inch of your skin. “Did you try to feed Caraxes again? He’s a temperamental old man, just like his rider.”

“Who is Caraxes? Do ya’ll have a dog or something?”

“Dog?!” Daemon sounded almost offended. “A dog?! Rhaenyra we should fetch a maester. Our little dragon is either begging for a punishment or in need of a healer.”

Rhaenyra attempts to cover her laugh. “Caraxes, Daemon’s dragon? You insist on telling him a goodnight story at least once a week.”

“He’s a dragon of war for fucks sake,” Daemon mutters. “You’ve been making him soft.”

“Dragon?!” Your eyes go wide. “You’re joking. You’ve gotta be fucking me right now.”

“We are most definitely no-”

“We certainly could be-”

Daemon and Rhaenyra spoke at the same time. You would have laughed, but the implications of Daemon’s words were starting to settle in.

“Wait,” you being. “So if Queen Rhaenyra is my wife….and Daemon has two wives…and you two seem to be close…that means-”

“That you both are all mine,” Daemon purrs.

“Daemon, we must call for the maester. This seems serious, she doesn’t even remember us.”

“What year is this?” You ask, not sure if you want the answer.

“125 AC.” Rhaenyra responds.

“And where are we?”

“The red keep.”

“What, is that like England or something?”

“We are in Westeros.” Rhaenyra feels your forehead. “Daemon, put y/n to bed while I have the maids summon the maester.”

You yelp in surprise and Daemon stands up, holding you close to his chest. He carries you to a vanity, setting you gently on the bench before rummaging through some drawers. “Arms up, love.” He says, pulling a white shift over your head. You stare of into space as Daemon gently braids your hair. 

“Where’d you learn to do that?” You ask as he ties a ribbon at the ends of the braid.

“You and Rhaenyra are quite the demanding duo when you want to be,” he snorts. “The staff might revolt and establish Rhaenyra’s cunt of a half-brother as king if I bothered them everytime you both needed your hair done.”

“Language,” you chide. Daemon rolls his eyes before he sweeps you back up into his arms. He carries you to the bed, depositing you in the center before he climbs in. Daemon sits up, back against the headboard as he pulls you in to lean against his chest. 

“Do you really not remember us?” He asks. 

“How long have we been married?” 

“Five years. We were married in the old ways. Your High Valyrian wasn’t as good back then though.” Daemon laughs. “But it was perfect, and I wouldn’t trade you both for anything.”

“So if Rhaenyra is queen, what does that make you?” You ask. He had to be King, right?

“A lucky man.”

You laugh, and lightly hit his chest. “No, really. I don’t remember anything. Help a girl out here.”

“Prince consort.” Daemon answers. You nod, so Rhaenyra must be in charge around here.

“So how’d I end up married to Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Consort Daemon?” You ask in the poshest British accent you can muster.

“You threw yourself at my feet saying ‘Please Rhaenyra, I cannot live without you! You are the sun that brightens the sky and the stars that guide ships home!’” Rhaenyra teased. You sit up to see that Rhaenyra isn’t alone, she brought back some balding man with her. 

“I didn’t say that-” You protest.

“Really?” Daemon laughs. “My queen, it’s not proper to toy with someone who is ill.”

“You’re one to talk,” Rhaenyra says, raising a brow. “You seemed rather close when I came in earlier.”

You groan. How did you manage to survive these two for five years. 

!!SMUT BELOW!!

PREVIEW FOR PART TWO

“No,” Daemon scolds, clasping your hands together in his larger one and wrenching your body into his. “You’re not in charge here. You’re going to listen and obey like a good little girl.” You whine in response, nodding furiously in agreement. Suddenly, Rhaenyra’s warm body brushes up against your back. She nibbles lightly at your ear before kissing and licking her way down your neck.

“No need to be cruel,” Rhaenyra purrs. “Our little dragon is just begging for attention the only way she knows how.”

You whimper, canting your hips into Daemon’s. He slides a thigh between yours, pressing it up against your cunt. Your eyes roll back and you moan at the friction. “Please,” you breathe out, your teary eyes meeting his. 

NOTE: Hey all! I'm not dead, sorry for disappearing! Life happened (new job, had to travel home for a funeral). But, I got my shit back together after taking some time for myself and I'm ready to give y'all the stories I've been cooking up. I have some steamy and inspiring requests I'm working on for Feyd Rautha (so if you requested...they're coming). Glad to be back and BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR PART 2!!!! - Lacie <3

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Helplessly In Need.

Summary: After being bratty all morning, Wanda decides to punish you in front of her coworkers.

Pairings: Mob!Wanda x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut, established relationship, a lot of bratty reader, use of remote controlled vibrator, mommy kink, exhibitionism, marking, thigh riding, edging, mentions of spanking, one (1) thigh slap, crying, humiliation, degradation, praise, aftercare.

Word Count: 8.2k

a/n: no one perceive me for this... this is practically just pure filth, two hands on the phone at all times people 🫵

Wanda didn’t know where your sudden attitude had come from. Since she woke you up this morning you were full of grumbles and snarky remarks. You had already cussed at her for awakening you from your slumber and had thrown her pillow at her in an attempt to get her to leave you in peace. It was a Sunday morning, you didn’t feel the need to be up so early. Apparently Wanda had other ideas. Ideas you were certainly not a fan of. 

You stomped your way downstairs after Wanda had stolen your blanket away from you and told you for the umpteenth time that morning to get up. Your sour mood didn’t improve even after seeing that Wanda was making pancakes for breakfast. 

You didn’t help her out during breakfast like you usually would. Instead, you decided on huffing and complaining before soulching over on the sofa, propping your feet up onto the coffee table and opening up your favourite game you liked to play. Wanda watched you, boring holes into the side of your head. You knew the rules, no gaming before breakfast. 

She called out to you, telling you that breakfast was ready but she received no reply from you. She knew you heard her. Giving you the benefit of the doubt, she waited just to see if you were saving your progress and were going to get up as soon as you had done so but even moments later, you made no effort to get up.

A sigh left her lips. You really seemed adamant on testing her today. 

Leaving her setup in the kitchen, Wanda made her way over to you making quick work of snatching the controller from your hands. She was generous enough to save the game before shutting the tv off and staring down at you with a glare.

“I was playing that.” You grumbled, attempting to match her harsh stare but you couldn’t be so intimidating even if you tried. Wanda merely rolled her eyes as you stated the obvious and she shoved your feet back down onto the floor. You knew it was a pet peeve of hers having your feet up on the coffee table. It was almost as if you were deliberately trying to push every single one of her buttons this morning. 

Ignoring your comment, she simply pulled you up from your cosy corner of the couch, not letting go of your hand as she led you into the kitchen with her. She didn’t feel the need to explain to you once again that breakfast was ready. She knew you had heard her the first time. You were just adamant on being a testy brat today.

You whined and half heartedly tugged on her hand, wanting to go back to your game. The promise of pancakes was tempting but you didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of you backing down. You didn’t feel the need to pack in your attitude after being disturbed all morning. 

She pulled out the chair next to hers. “Sit.” You pouted, a forlorn look on your face as you looked over at the tv, only wanting to go back to playing your game. You could have breakfast later. Wanda tilted her head at you when you didn’t immediately follow her instructions. “Be a good girl and sit your pretty ass down.” Her stern tone made you squeak. Reluctantly, you took your seat and Wanda kindly tucked in your chair for you before going over to her own spot at the dining table. 

Breakfast was a little quieter than normal, you still hadn't fully awoken and you weren't that talkative. You were never a morning person. You replied to Wanda with short comments whenever she tried sparking up conversation. You did thoroughly enjoy your pancakes though, dousing them in Nutella and having your side of fruit as Wanda had requested. You still thanked her for making your favourite and told her how delicious her cooking was, as always. 

You went back to your game after you were made to load up the dishwasher. You sighed in relief when you heard Wanda finally make her way back upstairs and left you in peace. It was a Sunday, your day to relax and sit back. Not wake up early and have a day full of boring chores.

You entered yet another race in game, ready to outplay everyone else you were up against. You scooched closer and closer to the edge of the sofa as the race went on. The third lap was getting tense, you were being tailed. One wrong move, one miscalculated turn and they were going to easily overtake you and you couldn't afford to lose your champion streak, it was one of your longest streaks yet. 

Being so focused on your driving, you hadn’t noticed the sound of Wanda's footsteps as she made her way back downstairs. You hadn’t heard her calling out to you. She stood behind you, arms crossed over her chest and a displeased look on her face. 

As you approached the finish line on the fifth and final lap, your component close behind on your trail, the tv turned off and the screen went black. Your eyes widened, mortified, as you just lost the race. You stood up, ready to lob your controller halfway across the room when a hand caught your wrist in a tight grip. She snatched the controller from your hand before placing it down.

You practically scowled at Wanda as you turned and saw her, the tv remote in her hand. “What was that for? I was just about to win!” You glared at her. “Can't you see I’m in the middle of something here? I’ve just lost my streak! Thank you Wanda, really, just thank you for that. Ugh!” You finished off your mini temper tantrum with a stomp of your foot and you mumbled something under your breath. 

“What was that darling? Say that again. I didn’t quite hear you.” Wanda stared at you and cocked a singular eyebrow.

“Nothin’.” You mumbled, diverting your eyes downward and tugging on your wrist a little, trying to free yourself from her tight grip. Suddenly you were wishing you didn’t just lash out at her.

Wanda tilted her head. “Really? It didn’t sound like nothing to me.”

You squirmed under her intense gaze. “N-nothing mommy, I’m sorry.” Your tone softened up as you addressed her this time. Wanda hummed and released her hold on you. 

“Get dressed.” Wanda ordered. “We’re leaving soon, I’ve already laid your outfit out for you on the bed.”

It was only then did you realise Wanda was dressed in her usual work attire. Her blonde hair was tied up in a bun, a few strands at the front framing her face as she wore her usual black suit. You whined. “But it’s Sunday. You work at home on Sundays.” A pout was slowly forming on your face.

It was true, Wanda had rearranged her work schedule several months after your little arrangement. She would schedule off her meetings and work at her computer at home in her own office so she would be able to spend more time with you. Her schedule was unpredictable and a little hectic sometimes but she tried her best to set aside time for you. Sometimes however, like today, she wasn’t able to rearrange. 

“I’m sorry baby girl. I couldn’t postpone this meeting.” Wanda sighed watching your features turn into a frown once again.

“I’m not going.” You huffed and sat back down on the sofa, planting yourself down and getting comfy. 

Wanda stalked around the back of the couch and dragged you back up. “Yes. You are.”

Another whine escaped you as your comfort was being stolen from you. “Mommy, no.” 

You grumble as you get pulled towards the staircase. “Go.” Wanda pointed up to the bedroom.

You turned and glared at her. “You go.” You pushed her with a hand on her shoulder, attempting to shove her towards the door. Only, somehow, she didn’t move an inch.

You swallowed thickly under her sharp stare. A hand came down and swatted your ass harshly and you yelped out in surprise. “Mommy!”

She pinched the tip of your ear tightly between her thumb and forefinger and pulled you into her. “Shut your mouth and listen to me, brat. You’re going to go upstairs and get changed into what I’ve laid out for you. We’re leaving in ten minutes and I promise you, you don't want to find out what’ll happen to you if you’re not standing at that doorway with your shoes on in time. Do you understand me, little girl?”

“Fine.” You muttered.

“I said, do you understand me?” Wanda repeated, still pinching your ear tightly while maintaining her stern look on her face. 

“Yes mommy.” You spoke quietly. 

She let you go and shoved you a little harder this time and you stumbled over your feet before regaining balance. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment. “Go.” Wanda nodded up the stairs, her tone leaving no room for arguments this time.

Reluctantly, you started making your way up to your shared bedroom, grumbling to yourself, still not wanting to sit through some boring meeting. You rubbed at your now sore ear that was turning red, mumbling complaints under your breath. You pushed the door open, walking into your shared bedroom. There was an outfit laid out on the bed already as Wanda hold told you.

You looked over it, it was a rather simple outfit. You should feel grateful Wanda wasn’t trying to doll you up today, she probably knew you weren’t going to be happy about being forced out of the house and so she decided to give you comfy clothes to wear to hopefully lighten up your mood. You didn’t actually hate it but you were definitely displeased with the fact that you couldn’t stay in your pyjamas all day. It was the weekend after all. You didn’t want to go out anywhere. 

You changed into the outfit rather quickly seeing as you knew Wanda was down there counting down the minutes you had left. You knew how much she hated tardiness and you didn’t want to be the reason she was late to her own meeting. Yes, you were a brat but that was a punishment you were not ready for. 

A box captured your eye as you folded up your pj’s and placed them neatly at the edge of the bed. You picked it up and slid off the lid. Your breath hitched in your throat seeing a vibrator laying in there. Was she serious? 

You recognised it to be the remote controlled one. The settings could be controlled by an app Wanda had on her phone. It wasn’t the first time she had used this on you. If there was one thing about Wanda it was that she absolutely loved toying with you. You knew you were in for it now.

You knew you couldn’t just not wear it. Wanda would notice within seconds if you didn’t have it in. She was good at that. Reading your body language. She always knew everything. And it irked you sometimes when you weren’t able to hide things from her that you didn’t want her to find out. Some things you just wanted to get away with. Inside was also a note in Wanda's handwriting that read: Brats get punished. You whined out to no one in particular. You knew this was going to be a long day. 

You made your way back downstairs, albeit rather uncomfortably, with a deep blush covering your cheeks. With every step you made you could feel the vibrator shift inside you slightly. You didn’t know how you were going to survive a whole meeting with that thing nestled inside you. 

Wanda smirked at the sight of your flushed face. She knew you had followed her orders. “That’s my good girl.” She strung out her words as she spoke as if she was trying to make you even more flustered than you already were. She offered you a coy smile while you could barely muster the courage to even look up at her. You didn’t think you could without stumbling to your knees. Her praise always had a certain effect on you. You whispered out a small ‘thank you mommy’ and went to put your shoes on. 

Coats on and all ready to go, Wanda took your hand in hers and led you over to the car that was sitting waiting to pick the two of you up. Unlike you, Wanda greeted her personal chauffeur, Mr Colby, or Lorenzo as you preferred to call him, with a soft smile. You normally would greet Lorenzo with a cheery smile and a wave but you had too much going on with the sensations of the vibrator shifting inside you with every step you took and didn’t feel you could keep your composure long enough to say a polite hello. 

Lorenzo opened the back door and welcomed the two of you inside like he usually would and Wanda entered the car with you following close behind. An unexpected squeak left your lips when you were pulled up onto Wanda's lap. She secured her arms around your waist and pulled you closer so your back laid flush against her front. 

You furrowed your eyebrows noticing how the divider between the front and back seats was up. It wasn’t like you had any plans to be making much conversation with Lorenzo today but you couldn’t even remember the last time it was pulled up. 

You felt the car being put into drive as the three of you set off to the now familiar building of Wanda’s workplace. It sometimes happened to be quite a tense environment which was to be expected knowing Wanda’s line of work. Some meetings you had to excuse yourself from but Wanda never held that against you, always checking in with you and comforting you after. Though once you grew to know the people who worked there more, you didn’t feel the need to stay glued to Wanda’s side the entire time you were there.

Everyone there liked you, they said you brighten up the place well. Except for Natasha that is. You didn’t know what her problem with you was but you never received anything other than harsh glares and rather rude or simply dismissive comments from her. You did your best not to dwell on it though as your friendships with the others flourished as time went on. And also maybe because you enjoyed throwing her attitude right back in her face. Poking Natasha was far too easy and it was a good outlet for your bratty behaviour. 

You wriggled on Wanda’s lap and her grip around your waist tightened. She leaned down and whispered into your ear. “I can't wait to edge you all day baby.” Your eyes widened and you whimpered. You could feel her breath against the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as you failed to attempt to collect yourself. 

One hand traced against the waistband of your pants as her lips made her way down your jaw, gently kissing along your jawline. Your breathing grew heavier as her hand inched towards the place you needed her most. She still hadn’t turned the vibrator on since you had put it in and you didn’t know how much longer you’d have to wait to finally receive even the smallest amount of stimulation that, knowing Wanda, would only leave you more desperate for her in the end. She would never give you what you wanted right away, she was going to make you work for it. 

Her hand that had a firm grip on your waist started dragging you across her thigh. The friction felt heavenly, finally being allowed some stimulation. You gasped, going along with her movements and grinding your hips down onto her thigh. She flexed the muscle beneath you as she guided your hips back and forth.

“Will you be able to stay quiet for mommy during her meeting? While she plays with you and tortures this poor little needy cunt of yours? Or will you sit there, crying and whimpering like a pathetic little girl? I bet you’re already dripping, hm?” She tightened her grip on you effectively stilling your moments. You had to stifle your whine. You should’ve known she wouldn’t give you much. You gasped and bucked your hips up into Wanda’s hand as she cupped your clothed core. 

It was like she knew you better than you knew yourself. You suddenly grew painfully aware of the mess pooling in your panties. All you wanted was to feel something, anything to make the ache feel just a little better. A quiet “please mommy” was the best you could muster up as you squirmed in her lap.

“Sit still.” Wanda tutted, clearly displeased with your wriggling around. You whined and did your best to restrain yourself from grinding down against the hand that still hadn’t moved from your core. You felt Wanda’s lips make her way down your neck, mapping out a path to that sweet spot of yours she loved to suck on. 

A moan escaped your lips before you could stop it when Wanda started sucking and nipping at all of your most sensitive spots. “Quiet darling. Wouldn’t want Mr Colby over there to hear what we’re doing back here now, would we?” Wanda asked coyly. She didn’t waste any time going back to marking your neck up, leaving you no room to reply to her question as you bit your lip to stifle another moan that threatened to escape. It wasn’t like he was going to be able to hear anything anyway. The divider set up was soundproofed but it's not like you needed to know that.  

You really couldn’t help yourself this time when you grinded down against Wanda’s hand. It didn’t matter to you that the friction you were given was only a small amount, it still felt blissful with the combination of Wanda’s lips sucking marks onto your neck. 

A slap landed on your thigh and you yelped a little, soon whining as you found that Wanda removed her hand from your centre. “I told you to stay still malyshka. Don’t make me say it again.” Wanda warned. Your breath hitched when you felt her teeth sink into your skin, the sensation sending a bolt of electricity straight down your spine. She soon licked over the bite marks dotted across the expanse of your neck, soothing them over. 

The deep red spots on your neck were turning purple in some places and Wanda pulled back a little to admire her work. A pleading look took over your face as you turned back to pout up at her. A cocky smirk formed on Wanda’s face as she drank in your desperate expression. 

A hand cupped your jaw and tilted your head up slightly and the two of you made eye contact. 

“Such a pretty little girl.” You preened under her attention as her eyes scanned you. She was shamelessly undressing you with her eyes as her thumb rubbed gentle circles over where she had smacked your thigh moments before. Her other hand slowly trailed down your neck, tracing the newly formed marks that sat there. You whined quietly as you buried your face into her shoulder in an attempt to hide the growing redness in your cheeks. 

Wanda chuckled and ceased her ministrations on you, allowing you a moment to calm down and collect yourself. She soothingly rubbed your thigh as you inhaled the scent of her signature perfume you had very quickly grown to love. A few deep breaths and your heart rate was steadily returning back to normal though the persistent throb down there didn’t seem to be passing anytime soon. 

The silence that settled over the two of you didn’t last for long as Wanda spoke up again. “Mommy's looking forward to spanking that pretty ass of yours when we get home.” You squeaked as you peered up at her meekly. “I wonder what tool I should use. You know I’ve always been a fan of the belt. It leaves such pretty marks behind. Or maybe I should go with the crop this time. It leaves more of a sting.” Wanda thought aloud. 

“Mommy.” A whine escaped your throat as you squirmed on her lap, imagining the feeling of the instruments colliding with your ass. You remember the last time she used the crop to spank you and you couldn’t sit comfortably for days after, a dull ache constantly reminding you to behave. 

“Or I could use the paddle. Make your ass all red and bruised.” You swallowed thickly at the proposition. She’d only ever used the paddle on you once and it was not exactly at the top of your list of things to experience again. Wanda merely chuckled at your frightful expression. Yes, she always gave you the intended aftercare. No matter what she would always tend to your bruises, applying lotion to the entire expanse of your butt and gently massaging the pain away. But after some particularly intense scenes, the ache would not properly simmer down until days later. You didn't feel like wincing every time you had to sit down. 

Wanda petted your hair as you sunk into her. You were silently wishing for her to take pity on you even after your display of bratty behaviour all morning. You were still painfully aware of the vibrator sitting inside you that still hadn’t been turned on. You knew that if Wanda were to dip her hand into your panties her fingers would come out sticky with ropes of your arousal clinging to them. 

You settled against Wanda for the rest of the drive as her arms remained secured around your waist. Luckily, she had stopped her teasing but deep down you knew that it was only the start. Sitting through the meeting was most likely going to be much worse on you. 

It wasn’t much longer until you had arrived and Lorenzo was pulling over, putting the car into park. As always, the door was opened for you and you slid out of the car, feeling brave enough to give Lorenzo a friendly smile despite the wild blush on your cheeks. He simply smiled back and gave you a curt nod. Wanda soon followed behind and she enveloped her hand in yours, interlocking your fingers. 

The two of you entered through the double doors of the building you had long since become familiar with. It took a lot of time to convince Wanda to loosen up the rules she had set for you while coming to work with her. She was extremely cautious considering her line of work, she didn’t want you to get involved with the types of people she dealt with. She would never forgive herself if anything bad ever happened to you.  

She was still surprised at your reaction when she first told you about her job. You didn’t seem scared, you were more intrigued than anything. You had many questions you wished to be answered and Wanda couldn't help but smile at your childlike wonder. You were always so innocent and curious. She was relieved she hadn’t scared you off, you showed absolutely no amount of judgement towards her. You secretly found it hot that you were dating such a powerful woman. And the thought of her carrying a blade around had shamelessly crossed your mind one too many times now. You’d have to talk to her about that sometime. 

Since that conversation, Wanda became more open about her personal affairs. You worried about her safety sometimes when she came home with cuts and bruises littering her hands. Just like she had taken care of your marks, you took it upon yourself to take care of hers. No matter how much she insisted that she was okay and she could take care of them herself, you always remained stubborn on the matter. The soft and gentle way in which you would tend to her wounds never failed to make the blonde woman melt. The way you looked at her with such tenderness in your eyes as you took care of her only made her fall for you even more. 

The first time she had ever brought you to her office, you were content enough just to be there, happily looking around the parts of the building you passed on the way to her office and absolutely marvelling over her office itself once you had arrived. No matter the rules for you, you were thankful to be shown another part of her life. Everything in that building just seemed so her. 

One visit at a time, the rules started to loosen up. She still didn’t like it when you wandered around on your own but she allowed you to talk to the people there and get to know her coworkers. They got to know you as Wanda’s sub. It never failed to make you blush when that's what you got introduced as while Wanda kept a possessive arm around you. Some rules between the two of you got explained to the others, telling them why you would never speak to any of them without permission or why it was so important that you listened to Wanda’s commands.

The redheaded woman, who you’d learned names was Natasha, her reaction to everything was probably the most humiliating. She laughed and teased you calling you an obedient little pet and then calling you out on your blush. You probably enjoyed Kate’s reaction the most. You didn’t know it was possible to meet someone who was more shy than you but it appeared that in that moment, the dark haired girl was even more meek than you. You tried your best to contain your giggle at the expression on Kate’s face as she blushed furiously and struggled to look at either one of you. But she never made you feel like you were being judged. You were thankful for that. 

After enough time, she would allow you to explore with either Maria or Carol as your company knowing you would be safe with them. You tended to favour Carol over Maria. She was much more fun, causing trouble with you at any given opportunity. Maria wasn’t like that. She was much more stern with you, reminding you of your place before you even got the chance to step out of line. It amazed you how she knew you were up to no good before you had even done anything. It was like she had a sixth sense when it came to your cheekiness. 

Hand in hand, the two of you took the elevator to the desired floor and walked the familiar path to Wanda’s office. She dropped off her bag and collected a few documents that you had not enough interest in to ask about. Instead, you decided on plopping yourself down on her swivel chair by her desk. You loved that chair, you couldn’t believe how comfortable it was. But you didn’t get the privilege of sitting in it often. If Wanda was working, you’d have to settle for second best. Or you’d bug Wanda until she got tired of your whines and allowed you to sit on her lap as she worked. Her lap was always going to be your favourite spot. 

You watched Wanda as you swivelled side to side and sometimes all the way around on her chair as she searched through the drawers containing all her files. She was probably looking for the right documents on topic with whatever this meeting was going to be about. Wanda was normally very organised, usually already having all of the paperwork already out and ready on the corner of her desk for a meeting. Seeing her frantically search like this was new to you. She was probably telling you the truth when she said she wasn’t able to reschedule. If it was a meeting planned so suddenly, it had to be important.  

You pouted a little at the sudden lack of attention that was on you. She had her eyes on you all morning and she had been touching you the entire drive and now there was nothing. You hadn’t forgotten what was said to you in the car. You knew Wanda intended on edging you throughout the entirety of the meeting but maybe you could convince her to be nice to you if you decided to be good. 

You squirmed slightly in the seat, pressing your thighs together as your clit throbbed for attention. You could feel the vibrator shifting inside you with the small movements you made and you wished she would just turn it on already. Making you wait for it was its own form of edging in itself. “Wands?” You spoke out, interrupting the silence in the room. She hummed, still rummaging through the drawers and not sparing you a single glance. 

“Can I stay in here during the meeting instead?” You asked hopefully. You watched as she shook her head at your request. “No baby, I want you on my lap the entire time.” You whined, a pout forming on your face. “Please? I’ll be good!”

Wanda pulled out another file before closing the drawer and locking it shut. She walked towards you, placing the small pile of files down on her desk before resting both of her palms against the hardwood and leaning down towards you, practically towering over you. “No darling. I know you won't be good. All you want to do is stay in here so you can play with yourself and finally get what you’ve been wanting all morning. I’m not falling for that. You’re going to sit on my lap throughout that entire meeting and stay quiet and take everything your mommy gives you like a good little girl should. Understood?” 

You nodded, looking down at the floor, finding that much more interesting all of a sudden.

“Words, detka.” Wanda reminded you. 

“Yes mommy, I understand.” You all but pouted. 

“Good girl.” Wanda smiled and took the files, sliding them under her arm before offering you her hand to take. “Let’s go.” You reluctantly stood up from the comfy chair and took Wanda’s hand and the two of you headed to one of the board rooms. 

As the two of you walked down the familiar corridor, your breath hitched as your body jolted slightly and your grip tightened on Wanda's hand. The vibrator sat snugly inside you had come to life, only on a low setting but it was enough to get you even more needy than you already were. 

Wanda seemed to pay no mind to your reactions to her ministrations, she simply kept on walking while looking ahead. Your steps became a little wobbly as your face turned bright pink. You had to collect yourself before walking into a room full of other people but you didn’t feel like you could. You didn’t like how Wanda pretended like nothing was happening. Like what she was doing wasn’t having any type of effect on you. But she knew exactly what she was doing.

The vibrations didn’t stop. And truthfully, you didn’t know if you actually wanted them to stop. Your breathing became a little ragged as you attempted to keep your composure. Lucky enough you were able to keep all your sounds in seeing as the setting wasn’t too high. You didn’t feel like that would still be the case for much longer though. 

The two of you entered the room, the door shutting behind you. You tugged at Wanda’s hand, silently pleading with her with your eyes to be allowed to sit in the corner instead as she sometimes allowed but she simply ignored the look on your cute little face and pulled you down with her as she sat at the head of the table.

You sat perched on her lap, similar to how you were in the car. An arm slid around your waist while Wanda's other hand laid out the files in front of her on the table. You tried not to squirm too much, not wanting to gain any attention to the others who already sat in the room. The incessant vibrations weren’t nearly enough to make you come but it was enough to leave you growing wetter by the minute.   

Maria and Natasha were the last to enter the room, engrossed in their own little conversation as they took their seats at the table. It was clearly only a small meeting, only Wanda's inner circle was present. You wondered how important the matters were. Wanda cleared her throat, gaining the attention of everyone in the room before starting to discuss the matters of the meeting at hand. 

Your head was tilted downwards, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone at this moment. The red tint on your cheeks was impossible to hide at this point and you silently prayed no one could hear the sounds of the toy still vibrating inside you. You focused on your breathing and the sound of Wanda’s voice as she spoke. 

Everyone soon became focused conversing with one another. You couldn’t concentrate well enough on what any of them were saying after Wanda had upped the speed. All your attention was focused on your breathing as you bit down on your lip in an attempt to conceal any type of sound that wished to escape. If you bit down any harder, you’d probably split it. You could feel yourself leaking around the toy as you forced yourself to stay still and not rut against Wanda’s thigh like some desperate bitch in heat. 

A squeak escaped you as the toy was turned up yet another level. Wanda peered down at you, face full of faux concern. “Are you alright printsessa?” She asked, her tone as sweet as honey as she spoke, as if she wasn’t aware of what she was doing to you. All you could muster up was a small nod of your head and Wanda hummed, promptly turning her attention back to the discussion happening across the table.

Your hips faltered as your composure started to break slightly. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep yourself quiet for. Your cheeks were turning a deeper shade of pink as you grew hot all over. The sensations were blissful but not enough at the same time. You needed more. Your head fell back against Wanda's shoulder and you grabbed onto her hand and played with her fingers. The conversations happening around you didn’t seem to stop, no one seemed that focused on you at the moment. Which you were happy about. 

The dull ache settling in your lower stomach was becoming more apparent as the vibrations never settled. The constant stimulation had you growing more needy as time passed by. You couldn’t conceal the whimper you let out as you bucked your hips up, your resolve crumbling ever so slightly. A few eyes, as well as Wanda’s, landed on yours at the disruption you had caused. Your eyes casted downwards as half of the room's attention was suddenly now on you and your squirming form. “S-sorry.” You squeaked out, your voice a couple octaves higher than usual. 

At your apology the rest of them got back to the matter at hand, but Wanda kept her gaze locked on you. “Keep it down. Wouldn’t want everyone here to know what a needy fucking slut you are, would we?” She reprimanded you in a hushed tone and you shook your head, pushing your body back into hers. You could do nothing to relieve the growing ache as your clit throbbed and begged for even an ounce of attention. All you could do was pathetically rub your thighs together. 

You couldn’t decide whether or not you wanted the sensations to stop. You were growing closer to the edge now as the coil in your stomach tightened and the thought of coming in front of Wanda’s coworkers was nothing short of humiliating but you always hated the feeling of being denied. 

Though it wouldn’t exactly be the first time something of that sort would’ve happened. Wanda had no shame in playing with you in front of the others once she found out that was something you would be open to. You didn’t want anyone other than your mommy touching you, unless given explicit permission from both of you to do so, which was a rule that Wanda and the rest of them respected but you had no problem having them watch and make comments at any time. Not that you’d ever be willing to ever admit that again. But you liked the humiliation of it all. 

It felt like your lip was about to split with how hard you bit down on it in order to conceal your moans that wished to escape. Your squirms didn’t cease as you remained perched in Wanda's lap, attempting to stave off your impending orgasm. Your breathing was ragged and your face was flushed as the toy vibrated against that sweet spot inside of you. You were not so subtly grinding down against Wanda’s thigh, the movements of your hips practically out of your control at this point. 

This was something the girls were now catching sight of. They were piecing the puzzle together of what was happening with you at the sight of your red face, your chest heaving up and down, the squeak you made earlier and your squirming form. The fact that you were much quieter than normal and kept to yourself and didn’t greet any of them. Now they figured they knew why. 

You really tried to keep your whimpers down the closer to the edge you got but you didn’t feel like you could keep yourself quiet with the constant stimulation. With the way that the vibrator was angled perfectly against that sweet spot of yours you were going to finish any minute now. The coil in your stomach tightened almost painfully. You shut your eyes tight as you gripped onto Wanda’s hand, keeping your lip between your teeth as you grew ready to fall over the edge hopefully as silently as you could. 

All the vibrations stopped at that moment, just like that. A desperate gasp left your lips as your eyes shot open and your hips bucked up in search for any type of friction you could get. No attempts were made to conceal the whine you let out after being denied. Wanda tightened her grip around you, effectively keeping you pinned against her making sure you kept still. 

Maria snorted at the situation playing out in front of her. Natasha had to stop herself from laughing at you and making some cheeky comment that laid on the tip of her tongue and focus on the topic of the meeting instead. You were even more embarrassed knowing they had just watched you get denied right in front of them. 

Wanda hushed you while you whimpered and whined, tears brimming your eyes from sheer desperation. You fought against her grip around your waist, your attempts to finish yourself off on her thigh in vain when she effectively kept you pinned in place. You sulked against Wanda, resting your head back against her chest. You didn't know how many times this was going to happen to you before the meeting ended but knowing Wanda, you figured she'd milk the most out of you she possibly could. 

Besides the fact that eyes were drifting towards you more often than not, the meeting went on as normal. No one strayed away from the topic of conversation but you could feel the stare of Natasha's eyes constantly on you. “What're you looking at?” You snapped at her, attitude coming back to the surface once again. 

Wanda didn't like this, she never entertained the small feud between you and Natasha. It was another rule of yours that you were to respect the people she worked with, they were all people of power. The vibrator was turned on yet again, almost at full speed and you jolted in her lap a lewd moan escaping from your throat. 

“Shut the whore up, will you?” Natasha rolled her eyes at your antics, annoyed at you for distracting everyone. Wanda merely chuckled. A willing plaything like you on her lap she couldn't help toying with you. She always loved the reactions she could coax out of you. 

You squirmed around on Wanda's lap, on the verge of an orgasm yet again. The coil was tightening in your stomach, almost ready to snap. Everyone's attention was on you now, the meeting taking a temporary break in order for some entertainment. You flushed under everyone's gaze and kept your head tilted down to the floor. You felt like you'd combust if you made eye contact with anyone in that moment. As you approached yet another edge you whimpered pitifully as the sensations were stolen away from you once again. You cried out, not caring about how loud you were being anymore. “No please! Please, I'll be good.” 

A few laughs spread around the room at your pathetic, helpless state. “Calm down printsessa, you're disrupting my meeting.” Wanda shushed you once again and pulled you flush against her while you tried not to cry. It was like she didn't see how she was torturing you on the spot. Your panties clung to your folds the wetter you grew and you could feel your wetness start to drip down your thighs. 

Everyone went back to conversing after Wanda dismissed your whines and brought everyone back on topic. You could feel your cunt throbbing, begging for a release. You sniffled, wishing she would take pity on you. The ache in the pit of your stomach was becoming unbearable. You chose to hold back the rest of your pleads, not wanting to beg in front of everyone else in the room. They had already seen enough. All they'd do is make fun of you. You were not making yourself look any more desperate than you already seemed. 

Thankfully, you were given a small break to pull yourself back together. You really tried your best to sit still after Wanda scolded you yet again for your squirming but you couldn't help the occasional rubbing of your thighs. All you needed was her but she wasn't going to give you that. Not today at least. 

Your break however didn't last as long as you had hoped. Wanda seemed to be having too much fun messing around with you, bringing you to the edge another three times before the meeting came to a wrap and the sprawled out files all along the table were being collected in. Carol winked at you and wished you good luck before she left and you appreciated her kind words, she knew you were most likely in for it when you got home. 

You got along with Carol exceptionally well. She was practically your partner in crime, always tagging along when you decided to cause trouble in the offices. Whether it was pulling harmless pranks or deliberately doing anything to push someone's buttons, she was there by your side. She was probably the one you befriended the quickest. 

A gentle squeeze of your hip signalled for you to stand up and you did so on wobbly legs. You were all dishevelled, your face featuring a permanent blush. You pouted up at Wanda all teary eyed and needy as she smirked down at you. “My poor little girl.” She cooed at you as she lifted you up into her arms and you wrapped your arms and legs around her, clinging to her like a koala. She secretly enjoyed the pitiful state you were in, you looked far too pretty when she made a mess of you. You inhaled the soothing scent of her signature perfume as you buried your head into her neck. She carried you back over to her office, offering you consoling back rubs. 

She closed the door behind her, making sure to lock it so no one unexpected walked in. She sat you down on her desk and you rocked your hips up, staring at her pleadingly to finally let you finish. She cupped your cheek and kissed you feverishly, her tongue sliding against your lip asking for permission. You granted it immediately, moaning as you felt her tongue slide against yours. 

The kiss broke as the two of you grew desperate for air and had to pull apart. She showered you with praises, telling you how proud you had made her and how well you had taken everything she gave you. You were always going to be her good little girl. You smiled bashfully, kicking your feet back and forth, practically glowing as she praised you. 

“I'm going to take it out now, okay?” Wanda double checked with you before taking out the toy nestled inside you. You whined. You weren't exactly expecting to be given what you wanted today but you had still hoped. You nodded meekly and spread your legs open for her. With your permission, Wanda's hand dipped into your panties, fingers gripping onto the vibrator that was now coated in your juices. Her hand slipped a little as she pulled it out due to how soaked it was. 

She set it aside on her desk, ready to be cleaned later. She grabbed a fresh pair of panties for you to change into so you weren't so uncomfortable on the way home. She always had a spare pair for you tucked away in the toy drawer that sat at the bottom left side of her desk in case you ever played in her office. Which wasn't exactly a rare occasion to happen. 

Wanda offered you a hand to clean you up and help you change, your legs were still a little too wobbly to be standing on your own. All of the gentle kisses being peppered along your face along with the praise she was showering you in almost made you forget about the persistent throb that still hadn't been dealt with. She gave you her water bottle to drink from and you greedily took a few sips. You sat back down on top of her desk facing Wanda while sat behind it, making work on noting down everything from the meeting onto her computer. Your legs dangled down against the drawers of her desk while you snacked on fruit pieces you didn't know Wanda had packed. 

You admired her beauty for a moment while she sat concentrated, typing away. You don't know how you managed to get so lucky with her. You hoped one day you would be able to call her yours for certain. Her soft blonde hair up in a bun today, a few strands pulled out at the front to frame her face. There was a small furrow between her brows as she focused. You reached out, gently smoothing out the creases with your thumb and she paused to look up at you. “Relax, Wands. Carry on like that and you'll have permanent wrinkles soon.” You giggled, teasing her a little. 

Wanda chuckled along with you at your lighthearted comment. She knew you meant it as a joke. “Don't worry.” You continued, “Even with wrinkles, you'll still be beautiful in my eyes.” 

A smile overtook Wanda's features, “Oh thank you darling.” Wanda chuckled and gently rubbed your knee before going back to finishing her notes. 

The two of you chatted while you finished your fruit pot and Wanda finished off her notes. She turned off her computer, packing it away before holding out her hand for you. You jumped off her desk and eagerly took her hand in yours and gave it a gentle squeeze which she returned right back. Hands intertwined, you made your way back to the car that took you here. 

“Hi Lorenzo!” You waved at him with your hand that wasn't holding Wanda's. He smiled back at you, returning your cheerful greeting. Wanda and him exchanged small pleasantries before the door was opened for you two and you entered the car. You rested your head against Wanda's shoulder and played with the rings adorning her fingers while Lorenzo drove you both back home. 

You peeked up at Wanda, trying your best to appear as innocent as possible while you asked your question. “Am I still getting spanked later?” Your voice was soft and meek. 

Wanda smirked and nodded her head. “Of course you are.” She said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Yes, you had taken the first part of your punishment exceptionally well but Wanda hadn't forgotten about the brattiness you displayed that morning or all the times you disobeyed her orders or broke her rules, whether intentionally or not. You pouted a little, secretly hoping your good behaviour while you sat in Wanda's office had gained you some mercy from her and you'd be let off the hook. But you would be lying if you said you weren't at least a little excited.

taglist; comment to be added!: @alexawynters @itsalwaysskorpioszn @idkwhatever580

[ashhbookmarks]

Red Wine Supernova

Pairing: Emily Prentiss × Fem!Reader

For: Anonymous Request, @cmkinkbingo2024, and @imagining-in-the-margins Pride Challenge!

EXPLICIT CONTENT, SMUT

Content Warnings: Partially clothed, fingerings, rough (all consensual), reader + Emily are closeted, coming out (everyone is supportive), Emily calls reader baby, reader has afab anatomy

Summary: You tease Emily at a party and she decides she's had enough.

Author's Note: HAPPY PRIDE!!! Listened to so much Chappel Roan and Kehlani while writing this, hope you can tell.

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN!

You and Emily were enjoying yourselves a little too much. David had thrown a lovely party, complete with pasta, singer, and plenty of wine. You had been flirty all night, the drinks going straight to your head (and between your legs).

Emily was clearly getting riled up, shooting you glances and glares at every opportunity. As much as she wanted you, there was nothing she could do about it. The two of you hadn't come out to the team, not because they wouldn't support you, but because it was nice to have something that only belonged to the two of you.

However, Emily didn't share the same sentiment at the moment. She wanted to do nothing more than bend you over the elegant mahogany table and fuck you senseless.

The party started to wind down around 11, and everyone lounged on the leather seats in the living room. You listened to Rossi's stories from the early days of the BAU, Garcia's latest date, and JJ proudly showing off Henry's latest achievement.

You locked eyes with Emily, giving her a knowing smirk before standing up and stretching out your arms. "I'll be right back, just getting a drink."

Her eyes glinted with need, and you knew your plan had worked.

She waited a few seconds as so not to arouse suspicion before standing as well. "I've got to use the bathroom. Hotch, show JJ that video of Jack scoring his goal."

Emily successfully distracted everyone as she made her way upstairs. As soon as she saw you, she pulled you into the nearest bathroom and locked the door.

"What the hell was that?"

You shrugged innocently, denying anything as she visibly seethe. Before you could egg her on any more, she pushed you back into the sink and kissed you harshly.

Grinning, you kissed her back, raising your hands up to cup her cheeks and pull her closer. She broke the kiss and shook her head, grabbing your wrists and pinning them against the edge of the sink.

"No. You're going to listen to me."

You nodded, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of you as you kissed her again, albeit a little more cautiously.

She spent a few minutes lavishing your lips before moving on to your neck. Emily took in your sinful sounds as she worked bruises into your neck, looking up smugly.

You watched her with heavily lidded eyes, your focus on her dexterous fingers currently groping your breasts hungrily.

"Oh my God, Em-"

She shook her head, bringing her fingers up to your face and pressing her index and middle to your mouth. "Open."

Your jaw dropped slightly at her boldness, and she took full advantage of it. Her fingers slipped past your lips, pressing down on your tongue. You lapped at them, causing the tension between you to grow.

Finally, she caved. Emily gripped your hips and spun you around, bending you over the sink. Your cheek pressed against the mirror as she yanked your pants down, getting a good view of your panties before pulling them to your knees.

"If you wanted me, all you had to do was say so, baby."

Your thighs clenched at the sound of her sultry voice, and she knew she had you right where she wanted you. Her hand slipped against your waiting heat, relishing in the slickness she found there.

"You knew exactly what you were doing all night, didn't you?"

You nodded dumbly, too focused on the way her fingers were currently pressed against your clit.

"Em, please."

She smirked even more at your desperation, starting to draw agonizingly slow circles.

"Apologize."

You tilted your head back, taking in your needy expression and deciding it was best to do as she said.

"Sorry. 'M sorry."

She nodded satisfactorily, rewarding you with her middle finger slipping past your entrance. Immediately, you let out a moan, clenching tighter around her. Emily reveled in your noises, curling her finger to elicit more.

A particularly harsh thrust hit that spot just right, and you practically squealed. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, but she yanked it back.

"No, let them hear. I'm tired of hiding this."

Meeting her gaze in the mirror, you realized behind all the sexual frustration, it was more about having to hide who you both were. You nodded, squeezing her arm reassuringly.

"We can tell them after this."

Some of the tension left her expression, but she didn't forget what she was doing as her ring joined her middle. Your eyes nearly rolled back, the pressure in your lower belly starting to grow. "Em, I'm so close."

She nodded, bringing her thumb back to your clit as she kissed the back of your neck. "I've got you, baby."

You started to see stars, your vision waffling as you clenched around her fingers, moaning her name.

She helped you come down before pulling her fingers out and licking them clean. The sight had you eager for another round, but you knew there were conversations to be had.

She washed her hands as you used the bathroom, making sure you were alright before you opened the door.

Standing right outside was Spencer, his hand raised and ready to knock.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Um, I didn't realize it was occupied. I've only been here for a couple seconds. Take your time."

The two of you burst into laughter at his fumbled apology, waving him off and letting him head inside.

"See, it's not that hard coming out."

You rolled your eyes at her, holding her hand as you both made your way into the living room. Everyone looked up at you, clearly having heard Reid's awkward encounter.

She cleared her throat, holding up your entwined hands. "We're dating."

The rest of the group were in various states of shock and confusion, but to your relief, no one was upset. There was nothing but overwhelming acceptance in everyone's eyes as they all gave you their congratulations. Rossi raised his glass, and everyone else followed. "To our new lovebirds."

You raised an imaginary glass, leaning over to press a kiss to her lips. "Actually, we've been together for about nine months."

Garcia let out a squeal, standing up and pulling you both into a suffocating hug. "I'm taking you two to the next pride!"

[ashhbookmarks]

Good Vibrations - Part 2

Tara/Rebecca || Rated: Explicit || WC: 1886 Fill: Dirty Talk (for @cmkinkbingo2024) Additional Tags: Established relationship, phone sex, masturbation, sex toys

Tara's in Kansas, Rebecca's in DC. Thank god for technology.

[Read on AO3] || [Kink Bingo Masterlist]

Rebecca sighed, opening the next folder on top of the large stack on her desk. She was still at work, even though everyone else had long since left for the night. If she'd been in town, Tara would have come to her office by now to make sure Rebecca left at a reasonable time. Without her partner's presence, she'd completely lost track of time and it wasn't until her phone rang that she even noticed that it was nearly 20:00.

She smiled at the picture of Tara that lit up the screen as she answered the call. "Hey, babe. How's it going?"

"Hi love. I just got to my hotel room, are you ready to try it out?"

"Oh, shit," Rebecca replied. She'd completely forgotten she promised Tara they could try out their new app-controlled vibrator tonight. "I'm sorry, I would...um, but I'm currently...."

"BEE! It's nearly eight o'clock, are you still at the office?"

Rebecca knew she'd been caught, so she didn't even try to deny it. "Yeah, sorry. I was working on case notes and time just got away from me. I'll start packing up."

"You know I'm staying on the phone until you're getting in the car."

"Wouldn't expect anything else," Rebecca laughed as she put her phone on speaker to gather her belongings. "How was the drive?"

"Pretty boring, you know how Kansas is, endlessly flat with nothing but wind turbines to look at."

"Actually, Dorothy, I've never been to Kansas."

"Lucky," Tara jest. "Wish I could click my heels three times and be home with you."

They chatted until Rebecca got to the parking garage and even then, she had to promise to text when she got home. She felt bad for standing Tara up when she wanted to take the vibrator for a spin. This was the first time she'd taken it out of town and she'd really been looking forward to seeing how well it really worked when they were so far apart. Unfortunately, because she'd spent so long at work, Rebecca already knew she was going to go to bed as soon as she got home.

Being in a relationship that was often long-distance, with Tara in a different time-zone every week, had admittedly created plenty of hurdles in their new relationship. It wasn't uncommon to only exchange a couple of texts a day when they were both busy with work. Texts were preferred because they didn't require instant attention, unlike a phone call.

The thought gave Rebecca an idea of how she could make sure Tara still enjoyed herself tonight. She opened the voice notes app and recorded a long message for her girlfriend. She sent it through before starting her car to drive home.

Tara was surprised to get a text from Rebecca so soon after she'd gotten to her car. There was no way she was home already, it usually took her almost a half-hour even at this time of night.

[Voice Note - 0:47] sent 19:03

[Voice Note - 4:16] sent 19:03

[Sorry I ruined your plans. Hope this is a good consolation prize.] sent 19:03

Tara turned up her volume and hit play on the first recording, smiling as Rebecca's voice filled her hotel room:

"Okay, don't laugh, because I'm extremely out of practice with this kind of thing, but I thought I could send you a bit of...inspiration. That way you can still enjoy yourself even though I blanked on our plans. I guess, um, get comfortable and I'll just, uh, oh god this is so stupid. Don't say I didn't warn you if this is the worst idea ever. Okay, get comfortable, uh, with the vibrator...then listen to the next message."

An intrigued grin spread across Tara's face as she reached the end of the recording. She'd already prepared the vibrator in anticipation of an intimate call, so it was still close by. She followed instructions, getting into a comfortable position, then let her thighs fall open wide enough to tease her clit with the egg shaped device. It didn't take long for her to relax enough to insert the vibrator fully into position. She wasn't sure what to expect with the recording, so she just set the hands-free vibrator on it's lowest setting then pressed play:

"Hopefully you're comfortable now. I can almost see you, laying on the bed, most likely wearing nothing but a t-shirt, those impossibly long legs of yours bent at the knee, bowed open just enough to rub your clit how you like. God, I love watching you fuck yourself. Set the vibe to the custom program I saved in the app..."

Tara paused the recording and opened the vibrator app again, navigating to the requested settings. Her toes curled as the device pulsed in her cunt, the external portion teased her clit in a similar pace as she'd use if she was using her fingers instead. Rebecca knew her so well. She laid back and continued:

"...I've been playing around with the settings, I think you'll like this combination. Alright, now just lay back, close your eyes and pretend I'm there with you. I'd be tracing my fingers through you gently, just teasing you because I love how wet you get from my touch. Are you wet already? ..."

"Yess," Tara replied to her empty room as her own fingers met her arousal.

"You look so good, legs open, that pretty pussy on display for me. I bet you're aching for relief after such a long drive, I know how much you like to get fucked before bed. Fuck, my mouth would be all over you right now. Head between your legs, my tongue tracing through your pussy, mmm, you taste so goddamn good...."

The vibration patterns changed on their own to a alternate in waves from low to high intensity. Tara imagined it was Rebecca's tongue instead, licking her rhythmically up the length of her opening, lapping her up over and over.

"...I don't think I've ever seen a pussy as perfect as yours, baby. So tight when I'm eating you out, my tongue fucking you slowly, my breath hot against your clit. Damn, I'm getting wet just thinking about it. I could eat you out all night, you know I have the stamina, but you never last that long do you, hm? Not when my mouth is on you. Not when my fingers are fucking you, right baby? ... By my mental count, the vibe should just about be to the -- "

"Oh, fuck!" Tara groaned as the vibrator changed again. The steady pattern maxed out intensity for a second or two, stopped completely, then max out again, mimicking the pace Rebecca's fingers would thrust into her.

"-- good part. One finger to start, while I'm still eating you out and rubbing your clit. Your hands in my hair, holding me down like you do. Not that you need to, I'm not going anywhere. I could fuck you all night long and never get tired of seeing the way your body reacts to me -- hm, fuck, I can see it so clearly. I'd add another finger, fucking them into you hard and fast, just how you like it..."

Tara was fucking the vibrator into herself, envisioning her girlfriend's fingers. Her other hand was under her shirt, groping and kneading her tits. It felt divine.

"...I bet you look gorgeous right now, fucking yourself to my voice. I know you like to be in control, but tonight I want you at my mercy. I want you to fuck yourself to my instructions. You always act so tough, but I bet I can ruin you with nothing but this message and that saavy little toy..."

Her back arched as she rocked her hips in sync with the vibrations. She was soaked, her arousal smeared between her legs, but she needed more. The had a bit of trial and error until she slid one finger into her cunt to join the vibrator. It was slightly weird to have it buzzing against her knuckles, but she found the right angle to make it work.

"...I've ruined you with less. You know how good I can fuck you, how good it feels when my fingers are inside you, my mouth all over you, biting the inside of your thighs to leave reminders. I know the bruise I left the other night is still sore, maybe I'd bite you there again, just to hear you scream...does it hurt when you touch it still? Let's find out...I want you to grab your thigh like I do..."

Tara reluctantly followed the suggestion, digging her fingers into the dark bruise on the inside of her thigh. It hurt so good, the pressure against it sent a shock of pain through her at the same time the vibrator began it's final pattern in the custom program. Her toes curled as she tried to multi-task between listening and fucking herself over the edge.

"...you're doing so good, gorgeous. You must be getting close by now. I can see you so clearly, panting, whining, are you muttering my name? Don't come yet, baby. I know you're close... but not until I say so, got it?"

Again, Tara replied to an empty room, "Yes, yes, Bee, fuck...please..." She was right on the edge, the tension between her legs building more and more with every passing second. Just as she found the perfect combination of movements, working with the vibration pattern, the vibe stopped completely. She glared down at it in confusion, "NO! What?!"

"...You have to wait for it...you ready?"

Tara was about to pull the device out to try and troubleshoot it, when it unexpectedly came back on with the most intense vibrations it was capable of. She moaned loudly, jaw clenched, head lulled back into the pillow. The finger in her cunt curled, pushing into her favourite spot.

"Three..."

Her body tremored, abdomen clenched with tension as she crested.

"...two..."

"Oh god, fuck, fuck, I'm going to --"

"...one."

In perfect synch, Tara toppled into oblivion as the recording ended. She groaned as the pleasure washed over her, she pressed the vibrator against her clit to extend the orgasm until she was completely spent. She fumbled with her phone, turning off the device so she could slide it out of her cunt safely.

She laid there for a moment, chuckling to herself in utter disbelief. She and Rebecca had barely been together a month and yet, her girlfriend already knew her well enough to make good on her promise. She really did manage to make Tara come undone with nothing but a four-minute voice message and the app-controlled toy.

When the stars cleared from her vision, she sent Rebecca a text:

[If I'm Dorothy, that makes you Glenda the Good Witch, because that was absolutely witchcraft.] sent 19:13

Tara blinked as she caught the time for the first time. She checked it against the timestamps on the original messages, shaking her head in disbelief. Not only had her Rebecca managed to make her orgasm from one-thousand miles away, but she'd also managed to do so before she even finished the drive home from work.

She fell back on the bed again, laughing to herself. "Actual fucking witchcraft."

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

[ashhbookmarks]

For the CM Kink Bingo: Breeding Kink with Jemily? (Bottom JJ)

Deeper

JJ/Emily || Rated: Explicit || WC: 1208 Fills: Held down (for @cmkinkbingo2024), Breeding Kink (for @storiesofsvu bingo) Additional Tags: First time, Strap-on, semi-rough sex, Top Emily, Bottom JJ

[Read on AO3] || [Kink Bingo Masterlist]

JJ had barely caught her breath from their last round, before Emily was on top of her again, kissing down her neck, her tongue tracing over the sheen of sweat. "Em."

"Yeah?" Emily answered between leaving kisses across JJ's collarbones.

JJ moaned as her partner's teeth grazed her nipple. She grabbed Emily by her hair to get her attention, "I'm ready now."

A grin slowly spread across Emily's face. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I want it."

Emily moved to kiss her lips, slowly, deeply. She tugged her bottom lip with her teeth when she pulled away. "Okay, I'll go get it."

Emily disappeared into her closet as JJ laid on the bed, heart pounding in her chest. It was the first time all night they'd slowed down enough for her to let it all sink in. How many times had she imagined this? How many years had she closed her eyes and wished her hand was Emily's instead?

They didn't go to the bar tonight expecting their evening to end in Emily's bed, but here they were and JJ had absolutely no regrets about it.

Emily was even more incredible with her mouth and hands than JJ could have ever imagined, but when Emily first asked about using the strap, JJ turned timid. She'd slept with men before, but she wasn't the biggest fan of penetration past fingers, so the idea of a strap was intimidating. Yet, after spending the past two hours at Emily's mercy, JJ knew, without a doubt, that even if she changed her mind again, Emily wouldn't make her feel bad about it.

Emily returned wearing a black leather harness with a matching black dildo fastened in place. She instantly noticed how JJ's eyes widened as she took in the size of the toy. "We can go slow, okay?"

JJ nodded and reached her hand out to invite Emily back to bed. She pulled her on top of her, kissing her again as the strap pressed between their bodies. The silicone was cool compared to their flushed skin and JJ tried not to psyche herself out before Emily even began.

As they made out, Emily began rocking her hips into JJ, the strap slid against her already sensitive clit and JJ gasped loudly. Her fingers dug into Emily's back as she instinctively rolled her hips upwards to meet Emily's. The motion caused the head of Emily's dick to dip into JJ's pussy and that one small motion cleared any lingering hesitation from her mind.

"Fuck me, Em."

Emily grabbed the lube and slicked the strap and lined it up with JJ's opening. She took it slowly, to let JJ adjust to the size. "If it hurts or anything, just tell me. We'll stop."

JJ gave her a vague nod of understanding between short breaths as she grabbed Emily's ass and pushed her down to take all of her in one swift motion. They both groaned at the feeling, but it was nothing compared to how it felt when Emily began moving. She opted for slow and steady cautious movements to ensure JJ was comfortable, but JJ had other plans.

She'd turned feral as soon as Emily was inside her, stretching her out, filling her up. It made her body feel alive, her mind already fuzzy before Emily even picked up her pace. JJ craned her neck upwards to nip the tip of Emily's nose, "I said fuck me, Em. I'm not going to break, I promise."

Emily chuckled and braced her elbows to either side of JJ's head to get the leverage she needed to thrust into her. JJ's legs locked behind Emily's back, just trying to pull her as close as possible so she could feel all of her.

With barely a handful of thrusts, Emily had her in a frenzy, JJ wanted more. "Harder, please, I want you to fuck me harder, baby."

JJ had never called her 'baby' before and it sounded so perfect falling from her lips as she laid on her back, getting fucked, the term of endearment flipped a switch in Emily's mind. She grabbed JJ's legs and repositioned them over her shoulders so she could thrust harder. JJ groaned at the new angle, her hands moved to Emily's waist to guide her.

"Holy..." JJ couldn't even finish the sentiment as she lost all ability to form actual words, instead communicating through nothing but loud moans and whimpers as Emily fucked her. She fought the urge to close her eyes, she didn't want to miss a single moment of this. She tried to commit it all to memory, the sweat at Emily's brow, her mess of hair clinging to her face, the determination in her deep brown eyes.

Based on the sounds Emily was making in return, JJ could tell she was getting close to climax. Just the concept that Emily might orgasm without any physical stimulation, from nothing but fucking JJ with the strap was both endearing and mind-blowingly sexy.

Before she could register the absurdity of the notion, JJ was panting into Emily's ear, "Come inside me."

It was so unexpected, Emily actually stopped all together to stare at her in confusion. She was breathing heavily, in a daze from being so close only a moment ago. "I mean --"

"Ohmygod," JJ muttered as she turned bright red in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. I just momentarily forgot that..."

"No, no, it's fine," Emily reassured with a smirk. "I didn't know you were into that."

"I'm not," JJ replied honestly. "Not usually, anyway. But god, you feel so good and it just slipped out. I didn't mean to make it weird."

Emily teasingly pushed the head of her dick into her, "It's not weird. I think it's hot."

"You do?"

Emily began sliding in and out again, smiling as JJ's pupils dilated when she pushed into her fully. "Definitely hot."

With that she started a steady rhythm as she pushed JJ's legs down against her body to fuck her as deeply as possible. The momentary pause was forgotten as Emily fucked her hard and fast, the weight of her body pressing JJ into the mattress with every thrust. It didn't take long to rebuild the tension, Emily was panting, almost growling with every movement. Yet her noises were barely audible under JJ's loud moans and screams of enjoyment.

JJ wedged her hand between their bodies so she could rub her clit, knowing she was about to fall apart. This time her request was purposeful, she locked eyes with Emily as she whimpered, "Fuck yes, yes, yes. Come in me, come in me, baby!"

Emily thrust into her sharply, groaning as she closed her eyes and envisioned it. "Oh, fuck, I'm going to..." One more primal groan and her body stilled, her fingers gripped JJ's waist firmly enough that if she had any length of fingernails she'd probably have left little crescents of blood where they dug in.

JJ fell apart simultaneously, screaming Emily's name as her back arched, her chest heaving. She trembled from the intensity, eyes rolling back in her head as she transcended.

The room fell silent save for their heavy breaths and Emily finally pulled out and let JJ readjust so her legs weren't pinned to her shoulders anymore. They laid on their backs, dizzy from the high, both in their own worlds as they recovered. JJ instinctively laced her fingers in Emily's, holding her hand to anchor her consciousness back into her body.

The night may have started like any other Friday, but it certainly didn't end like one and JJ could already tell this was the only way she wanted to start her weekends from here on out.

[ashhbookmarks]

The Surprise Masterlist

Find all chapters of The Surprise here. Updated as new chapters are released.

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: some chapters are 18+ MINORS DNI (they are marked as such), pregnancy times throughout, other warnings marked chapter by chapter Current total word count: 29k

The Surprise (Part 1)

The Lentil & The Blueberry (Part 2) (18+)

The Kidney Bean & The Grape (Part 3)

The Kumquat (Part 4)

The Fig & The Lime (Part 5)

The Peapod (Part 6)

The Lemon & The Apple (Part 7) (18+)

The Avocado & The Turnip (Part 8)

The Bell Pepper & The Big Tomato (Part 9)

The Banana (Part 10)

The Carrot (Part 11) (18+)

The Spaghetti Squash (Part 12)

The Mango (Part 13)

The Corn Cob (Part 14)

The Rutabaga (Part 15) (18+)

The Scallion (Part 16)

[ashhbookmarks]

Your Mina (Wilhemina Venable x f!Reader)

Synopsis: The world has ended and not just due to the missiles. Your Mina is gone, the cold Ms Venable left in her place. If only you didn't still want her.

Words: 6.3k

Warnings: degradation kink, humiliation kink, mentions of possessiveness, mentions of exhibition, swearing, thigh riding, chocking, jealousy, BDSM themes, objectification

The end of the world hadn’t been what you were expecting. It hadn’t been a slow build to something, climate change not the cause. Missiles, as the news announced, felt so stark and impersonal in the face of the death they wrought. You hadn’t even had the chance to feel the fear or the loss or the anxiety before hands had clasped around your arms and you were being escorted into a massive SUV.

Kicking and screaming brought blank stares, no one bothering to step in. Tears were running down your face but you were hardly the only one. The missiles were on the way and you were just another person facing this overwhelming truth. The world was ending and you were being kidnapped.

You would never get the chance to kiss your girlfriend goodbye.

You were bundled underground, into some kind of bunker built for the rich and powerful. You tried, over and over again, to tell them that they had the wrong person. You weren’t rich. You weren’t powerful. You were nothing and no one.

In a room, questions unanswered, you were left to stew. Firelight licked up the walls, shadows dancing, putting you on edge. You saw no one else, alone, the silence uncaring as you screamed at them to let you go. When the screaming ran out, tears fell down your cheeks. It was beginning to sink in just how alone you truly were. There must be other people in whatever place it was, but your family was gone, your girlfriend, your friends, everyone you’d ever known. They were all gone and you remained.

It was a cruel mistake.

You sunk into a chair eventually, curling up in it. Time was moving but you couldn’t feel it, the numb feeling growing in your chest. Your life had changed and you weren’t sure you wanted it. You wanted your life back or to have perished with everyone you loved. Not whatever this was.

The tears stopped. The numb feeling grew. You stared into the fire, wondering when it would consume your body. At some point, you knew, it would.

You ignored the sound of approaching footsteps. Your chin rested on your knees, arms curled around bent legs, staring at the flames until they were all you could see. No one could make it better. Of that you were sure.

A sharp tap of a cane on the floor had you stiffening. Their cruelty knew no bounds. You squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to let any more tears fall. They weren’t going to break you, no matter what this torture was. Maybe you had died and this was hell.

Another sharp tap of the cane so much closer and you half turned your head towards the sound. Your eyes scanned up from shoes hidden under a long dress, a dark cane held in pale hands. Your heart gave a small flutter. The further up, the more familiar the figure standing in the doorway was becoming.

Dark eyes were staring at you from a mask like face. Hair you’d once run your fingers through was pinned up. Lips you knew the taste of were pressed into a thin line. Your mouth grew dry.

“Mina,” you breathed, rising from your seat.

You couldn’t believe it. She was standing there, right in front of you, looking none the worse for wear. She was perfect. Your heart was thudding in your chest, loud in your ears, and she was right there. You could touch her, if you just reached out, because she. Was. Right. There.

“You will call me Ms Venable.” Her voice was so cold.

“But-“

Her hand shot out, open palm striking your skin. You gaped at her, the sting bringing tears to your eyes. She was staring at you, daring you to argue and you didn’t know what was happening. This wasn’t your Mina. Your hand trembled as you raised it, lightly touching the skin that bore her handprint.

“Yes Ms Venable,” you whispered, not even aware you were doing it.

Your eyes focused on your feet, your breathing shallow, the sting of her slap still echoing through your body. The end of the world had taken her from you, but not through death, through transformation. Pushing the tears back once again, you caught your lower lip between your teeth, biting down until the coppery tang of blood bloomed on your tongue.

“Welcome to Outpost Three,” Ms Venable said, and her voice was so familiar it hurt.

“Thank you,” you said.

“As a Purple you’ll be supplied a furnished suite,” she said.

Your eyes flashed up, purple meaning something more than whatever she was suggesting.

“Purple?” you asked.

“One of the elite.” Her voice practically purred and your entire body felt like a live wire, “come.”

You moved on shuffling feet, following behind her as she walked with such confidence. You had no idea when she’d been shown this place. She’d never spoken of it, never even hinted at something like it. All those years together and not once had this ever entered into your life. Until the end of the world.

The end of the world she knew about?

She explained the rules to you, your arms slowly tightening around your body. None of it felt real. None of it was reasonable. You’d stepped into a world where nothing made sense and nothing was okay. Your Mina was gone and yet was also standing right there.

Standing there but different. Your Mina would never wear black, purple the colour she wore at all times. You didn’t like it. She never wore her hair so pinned up, so severe. While you could appreciate how it showed off the long line of her neck and the cut of her jaw, the sway of her hair had been a constant in your life. At least the scent of lavender seemed to cling to her, not quite hidden. Yours gaze slid over her body, finding her more a stranger than was comfortable.

You stepped through the door she indicated into your suite, should brushing against hers. That familiar scent of lavender lingered in the air of the room. You breathed in deeply, eyes slipping closed for a moment, letting yourself imagine for a moment that the world hadn’t changed so drastically. You turned, looking at her, eyes sweeping over someone that once had been as familiar to you as your own reflection.

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“Which part?” Cruelty was the flavour of her voice.

“All of it. I mean, I know about the missiles but why am I here? I’m not anyone,” you asked.

For the first time, something in her eyes seemed to break apart and hastily be put back together again.

“You must have been important to someone in power,” she said, “if you find yourself so inconsequential.”

You looked at her, really looked at her. You’d woken that morning to her already having left the house. There was a vague memory of lips pressed to your forehead before rolling over. There’d been no note, not indication anything was going to be different. You’d slept last night with her warmth beside you, arms around you, breathing in time with one another. Now… now she was so far from the bed you’d once shared and you had no idea how to get back to it.

“I suppose so,” you replied, voice soft, letting her have the out she was looking for, “thank you, Ms Venable.”

She gave you a short nod before turning on her heels and walking away, the tap of her cane lingering long after she was gone.

The closing door was quiet and so was the sigh that passed over your lips. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. The world had ended but Mina was still there with you. But different. Not your Mina. Ms Venable. Not the woman who would come home at the end of the day and slip into the bath with you, but something new. Someone you’d never known before.

You wandered through the suite. It was plush, expensive, nicer than the home you’d shared with Mina. You didn’t know what to do with it. The world had ended and you were living in luxury. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it.

In the large closet, purple stared back at you from every corner. You ran your fingers of the materials, finding that each item was beautiful. Each one was perfect. Someone had put a lot of thought into curating the wardrobe you were to have in the end days. You shook your head, not sure what to do with that information. None of it was making any sense to you.

You were slow to dress and by the time you found your way to the dining room, it looked as if you were the last to join them. Mina was sitting at the head of the table. You couldn’t look at her, not without a wound in your chest opening up again. You felt the weight of the other gazes on you, not looking up from the hands clasped in your lap.

One weighed heavier than the others.

You’d dressed carefully, in the dress you thought shed’d like the most on you. It was soft, delicate, almost romantic. You couldn’t bare facing her only to be met with disdain. It had been a message that you would do what she wished to please her.

You’d keep to whatever role she was placing you in. Just sharing the same space as her would have to be enough in your new reality. You could be perfect for her, if that’s what she needed from you. Even now, when she wasn’t your Mina, you’d still do whatever you could for her.

Thank god your therapist hadn’t survived the end of the world or she’d have a lot to say about that.

You kept your interactions with the other Purples to a minimum. You found them insipid at the best of times, and you craved the attention of only one person in the entire Outpost. Instead, you watched the way she terrorised them. She stalked the halls, doling out discipline as she saw fit, lurking in the shadows just to catch them breaking the rules. The joy she seemed to get from it seemed so different from the woman you’d known on the outside, and yet you’d seen glimmers of it sometimes. On her worst days, mostly.

You didn’t find it any less intriguing, though. You might have been willing to play along with her facade of being nothing but strangers, but you still noticed that left you with less of her attention than the others. It might have been bad attention, but at least it was attention. You craved it, like it was the air you breathed. Where once the weight of her gaze ws comforting and familiar, now it felt exciting in its scarceness.

And then there was Ms Mead. Her right hand, her confidant, her trusted advisor. A kernel of jealousy curled behind your ribs, hissing in your ears that you’d been replaced. That she didn’t need you anymore. That she didn’t want you.

So you decided to do something drastic if only to prove to yourself that you were still burrowed in her heart.

It was slow, not wanting her to catch on before you were ready. You took your time, inching towards the group of Purples day by day until you were sitting with their group, listening to them talk. No one questioned it, no one pointed out you’d spent months ignoring them, now seeking them out.

Gallant was the first to notice your sarcastic comments, muttered under your breath. Catching your eye whenever Coco said something, a shared smile, the sting of friendship was surprisingly painful after months kept to yourself. He would sit beside you, the two of you sharing barbs.

If Mina noticed the change, she didn’t show it.

So you amped it up. You whispered with Mallory in dark corners, you complimented Coco loudly, you shared smiles with Dinah. In short, you did all you could to show her she no longer had your attention either. That you’d moved on. That if she didn’t want you then you weren’t going to sit around waiting for her forever.

Her eyes began to trail you throughout the twisting halls of the outpost.

One more turn of the cog. Standing in your wardrobe, the handpicked clothes for you by the woman who knew you better than anyone, you considered each one with a critical eye. Yes, the one in the far corner, tucked away as if she hadn’t wanted you to find it. That was the one.

The lavender slip dress was silk, so soft against your skin. Clinging to your figure, a cowl neckline and slit up to your thigh, it was sexier than anything else you’d worn, nothing like the Victorian inspired fashion you’d grown used to. But she had left it for you and it felt like a challenge.

You pinned your hair up, not as sever as her, softer, more romantic. You looked in the mirror, doing your best to effect the wide eyed look of innocence you knew you’d need to sell the whole ideal. Give her something to ruin.

You waited, just long enough to know you would be the last to sit down to dinner. Not late, but on the cusp. Stepping into the dining room, it was like a slow wave, faces turning to you, only one looking less than pleased.

You took your usual seat beside Gallant, ignoring the one woman you were trying so hard for. Some eyes were still lingering on you, Coco to be exact, and she looked put out at your appearance.

“Nice dress,” Gallant said, leaning towards you but in the quiet room his voice carried.

“Thank you,” you said, smoothing one hand over your thighs, “I found it in my room and thought why not? No point wasting something so pretty.”

Your eyes looked past him, finding Ms Venable watching you. There was fire in her eyes and you didn’t fail to notice the way her fingers clenched on the head of her cane. With a small smile you turned your face away, looking down at the gelatinous cube on your plate. Hardly your favourite meal but given it was the only one in existence you’d take it.

Your dragged your eyes up again, Coco looking at you with a cocked head. You offered her a wink, smirking at her. It wasn’t so much a feeling as a shift in the atmosphere. A tap of the cane on the ground, your thighs clenching together.

The meal was as unsatisfying as ever. Well, the food was. The eyes that you kept drawing to yourself were not. Arching your back, your neck, letting your fingers trail over your collarbone, laughing softly in Gallant’s ear, letting your teeth sink into your lower lip. You were using all the tricks that had once worked on her. The tricks that also led to you pinned to the mattress moaning her name.

No one said you had to play fair.

Once the meal was over, you slid your arm through Gallant’s, letting your hips sway, not bothering to offer a parting look to the woman who still owned your heart. He escorted you into the library, the infernal song making you purse your lips.

“So tell me,” he murmured under the cover of Coco’s complaints, “who’s benefit is this little number for?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, smiling at him, letting him know you were lying.

“You do know sex is strictly forbidden,” he said.

“Who said anything about sex?” you laughed, “nothing wrong with being desired.”

“Did you really find this dress in your wardrobe?” he asked.

“Would you believe my answer if I said yes?”

“Not for a moment,” he replied, “but whoever it is, they’re going to find you hard to resist.”

You sat in the corner of the sofa closest to the fire. The light, flickering over your skin, would be temptation in itself. Gallant seated himself beside you, his eyes scanning over the room, most likely trying to ferret out which of the other Purples you were trying to seduce. The woman moving through the room, taking her position with her back to the fire, was ignored by him. You smiled down into your lap before looking up at her. The glare you received in return was nasty.

You only stayed long enough to not raise suspicions. You squeezed Gallant’s shoulder as you left, getting an indulgent smile in return. The air in your room was stale and yet it continued to hold notes of lavender, even so many months later. You sat on your bed, face turned towards the door.

She didn’t leave you waiting long.

The knock on your door was perfunctory. You were slow to rise, wanting her to wait. Pulling the door open you didn’t have the chance to say anything before a hand was curling around your throat and pushing back into the room. Your hand snapped up, fingers curling around the delicate wrist, but you didn’t try to pull it from you. The door closed quietly behind her.

“You have been making a spectacle of yourself,” she said, squeezing.

“And you’ve been enjoying the show,” you shot back, breathless and hoarse.

She snarled, throwing you back. You stumbled, doing your best not to trip over your own feet. She advanced, slow and steady, each tap of the cane making you lose a little more of your breath. Her eyes swept over your body, looking less than impressed with what she found.

“You think too highly of yourself and your little display,” she said.

You took a step into her personal space, feeling her familiar warmth wash over your exposed skin. Her eyes darted down your body again, lingering on your lips for a moment before meeting yours. You pulled those lips up into a smirk, leaning forward.

“And I think you look at me and remember exactly what I sound like when I orgasm on your tongue,” you murmured.

“Insolence,” she growled, “your base desires are nothing of my concern.”

“Once they were only your concern,” you said, stepping back from her, “but I suppose you’re right. Someone else might want that job now.”

“No one will ever have that job,” she hissed.

“Yes yes, I know. No unauthorised sexual intercourse,” you said, rolling your eyes, enjoying the hint of jealousy in her voice.

Your hand slowly skimmed up your body, lingering on one breast. Her eyes zeroed in on it, darkening in a way that felt familiar. You brushed a thumb over a hardening nipple, a little gasp your only response.

“That doesn’t stop me fantasising about you every night with my fingers knuckle deep inside my pussy.”

Her throat bobbled.

“I used to just remember how it was. You, me, our bed or our bath or our kitchen counter,” you said as you pinched your nipple through the silk of your dress, “but then I got creative. Rather than Mina I had Ms Venable. Disciplining me. Tying me up. Bruising me. Choking me. Degrading me. I found I rather liked those fantasies.”

“You disgust me,” she growled.

“Then why are you thinking about using me for your own pleasure?”

Her eyes darkened and you saw her jaw clench. You knew her, better than you knew yourself. She’d never been good at hiding what she wanted from you, especially when what she wanted was you. You made small noise in the back of your throat as you tugged on your nipple, eyes fluttering closed at the shot of pleasure to your core.

A hand curled around your throat again, forcing you backwards until your back hit the wall. You didn’t bother opening your eyes, rolling your nipple, her name a soft exhalation. Lips brushed the shell of your ear and the scent of lavender curled around you.

“You’re nothing but a dirty whore ruled by your own animal instincts,” she growled in your ear.

“Uh huh,” you hummed, her words lighting your blood on fire. She’d never been one for this before, when it was sweet and soft and full of reassurances. You were having fun exploring this side of her.

“Pathetic,” she snarled, “do you really think this will end well for you?”

“I think it’ll end well for you,” you all but gasped, “you know how good I am with my tongue.”

Her fingers tightened around your throat, cutting off your air supply. Your back arched into your own touch, her warmth brushing against your bare skin. Your eyes opened, finding her watching you, teeth biting into her bottom lip. You lent into her hold, eyes focused on that lip, wanting to bite it until you tasted her blood.

“You want me to use you?” she hissed, “would that bring you pleasure?”

You nodded, watching her lips form the words. You could still remember what they felt like against your skin. They curled up into a cruel smirk.

“On your knees, slut.”

With the hand around your neck she forced you down. You looked up at her from under your lashes, tongue dragging along your lower lip. She let you go, stepping back. With careful movements she set her cane aside, sitting on the edge of your bed. She crooked a finger at you.

You crawled across the floor on hands and knees, practically panting at the thought of getting your mouth on her after so many months. She raised her foot, pressing it against your shoulder, holding you back, heel digging in painfully.

“You think you deserve to touch me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” you said, not even having to think about, “name one person who knows your body better than me. Name someone who can make you feel as good as I can.”

“Whose to say I haven’t found someone here?” she asked. That same jealousy curled in your gut, whispering in your ear, telling you Ms Mead had replaced you. She didn’t need you.

“Let me prove it,” you begged, surprised by how much you needed it.

“And what have you done to earn the honour?” she asked, “you choose to debase yourself in front of me. You flaunt your body as if that will impress me. You associate with degenerates and air heads. You are nothing and you will never amount to more than nothing.”

“Please,” you breathed, “please let me do this for you.”

Her foot dropped from your shoulder. You crawled forward again, unhindered. You stopped between her feet, dragging your eyes up her body. She was staring down at you, those dark eyes unimpressed but so intent on you.

Your hands skimmed up her calves, finding bare skin under your fingers. You pushed her skirt up, admiring the line of her leg. Your brought your lips to her right leg, finally touching her soft skin, tongue darting out to taste her. So familiar and yet so different.

“Hurry this up,” she growled, “I have places to be.”

“Yes, Ms Venable,” you said, lips brushing her skin.

Her legs parted further, giving you room to continue your exploration up her legs. She was still watching you, hands resting on your comforter, eyes darkening as your fingers slid over her knees. Your nose skimmed along her inner thigh before your breath caught.

Mina had always splurged on nice lingerie. It had been one of those things you’d loved. Silk and lace and satin. Always in shades of purple. She seemed to get a kick out of each new one revealed to you, the way your eyes would widen before you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off her. She planned it to perfection, each reveal making your head spin and desire pool between your legs.

If you’d considered the opportunity for lingerie in the Outpost, it was usually drawn from your imagination, your desire of what you’d like to see Mina in. In reality, you expected something functional, perfunctory, much like you’d found in your own wardrobe. Functional over aesthetic. Basic and simple, serving a purpose beyond stoking desire.

What you hadn’t expected was for her to forego underwear altogether.

Right there, easily accessible, her centre was glistening in the firelight. Fingers tangled in your hair, tugging until a sharp pain in your skull caught your attention. You tipped your head back, finding her staring at you.

“Problem?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Her act of indifference might have worked better if you couldn’t see the effect you’d already had on her. Her fingers tightened in your hair again, pulling past the point of pleasure.

“No, Ms Venable,” you replied, lowering your eyes back to her pretty pussy.

The hand on the back of your head forced you forward, headfirst where she wanted you most.

“Then get to work. Prove to me you’re the best slut I have on offer.”

Your tongue darted out, licking through her folds. The fingers in your hair tightened again. You did it again, revelling in her taste. You’d missed it, more than you’d realised. You hummed, eyes closing as you treasured the moment, tongue delving deeper. You wanted her taste on your tongue forever.

When you ghosted over her clit her fingers clenched. You did it again, wanting to feel the pull. The sharp pain was making your legs feel like jelly. You hadn’t thought that would be something you liked, but then you hadn’t thought you’d like this new Mina before you’d met her. But she was fun, opening up a whole new world of exploration for you.

You let your lips wrap around it, slow to suck. She forced your head harder against her, grinding against you. Your tongue flicked out, determined to hear her moan. The sound of it haunted your dreams. You craved it. You yearned for it. It would fulfil your dreams.

She kept silent.

Your arms hooked around her thighs, keeping them open as you pressed closer in. Your tongue lapped at her, circling her bundle of nerves, feeling her hips rise to meet you. You hummed again, tongue thrusting into her. Her legs pressed in, ignoring your hold on them, contracting around your head.

“Fucking whore,” she hissed, “so desperate for me. It’s pitiful. You disgust me.”

You tried to plunge further in, wanting her to feel you. Your nose bumped against her clit. She forced your head forward, grinding against you, uncaring of how you might be feeling. Your tongue was working hard, thrusting into her, setting a pace that you weren’t sure you could keep up. You looked up, watching the way her face contorted in pleasure. Her lips fell open in a silent moan, eyes closing. You stroked at her internal walls.

“I’m sure I’m your favourite taste. You’d stay there on your knees all day if I’d let you lick at me like a desperate little whore. Would you service me whenever I asked?” You knew you would.

You pulled your tongue from within her, wrapping your lips around her clit. You prised your fingers from her thigh, replacing your tongue, pushing them in until you could curl them, finding the place within her you knew so well.

She moaned.

“Maybe I should take you with me to dinner, have you feed under the table, at my feet as you deserve. Or would you rather eat from me instead? Let the rest of them know what a desperate little slut you are.”

You pressed your thighs together. Your fingers were slow as they pumped inside her, stroking and curling, twisting in a way you’d found she’d liked so much so many months before when the world was still the one you knew. You were sucking on her clit, her fingers pressing you harder, grinding hard against your tongue. The thigh you still held was beginning to tremble and her words were becoming breathy.

“Or maybe I should have you laid out on the table, touching yourself through dinner, let everyone see the control I have over you. Debase yourself in front of them. Show your shame to them all. Remind them you’re nothing but a dirty whore who earned her place here with her body, not through worthwhile means.”

You whined. Her laugh was breathless, fingers in your hair tightening. you could feel your own arousal beginning to drip down your thigh, her words only spurring you on. You wanted all of it, everything she was describing. You wanted her claiming you in front of them. You wanted to debase yourself, her words controlling you, begging her for release for everyone to hear. She owned you, body and soul, and it had taken the end of the world for you to realise how true that was.

“Even Coco is more worthy of her spot here. All you have is your body. Nothing but an object for my pleasure.”

You stroked the spot within her you’d always been able to find in conjuncture with a sharp suck to her clit. Her head fell back, hips jumping forward. Her thighs were squeezing your head, hands forcing you against her. It was hard to breathe but it was unimportant to you, her rising pleasure all that mattered.

“Look best on your knees,” she panted, “desperate to please. Willing to debase yourself, making a spectacle of yourself, demeaning yourself. Think you can please me. Think I’ll like seeing you giving into your animalistic urges. So… So… pathetic.”

She groaned as her internal muscles clenched around your fingers. She was keeping you pinned against her pulsing core, riding your face as hard as she could. With your tongue tasting her, you wondered if she’d cum since the end of the world or if this was the first time in all those months.

Her breath was slow to even out. Your fingers slid from her, your tongue dragging over the skin of your palm to clean yourself up, not wanting to miss a drop of her.

She dragged you up, your knees screaming from being pressed against the stone ground for so long. She ignored your whimper, lips crashing against yours. Her tongue was in your mouth, almost lazy as she stole your breath, giving you what you��d been yearning for since entering the Outpost. It was like kissing your Mina again. Her other hand was pulling up your skirt, fingers skimming your skin, making you whine into her mouth.

With probing fingers she discovered you’d also forgone underwear, bare under her touch. She made a noise, drawing back from the kiss, a look of affected disgust crossing over her face. Her finger ghosted through your folds, lingering on your clit. Your breath froze in your lungs, hips stuttering towards her. She guided you down onto her still bare thigh, bare cunt against her skin.

She curled her lip, watching the way your lips sunk into your bottom lip. The feel of her against you was almost too much. Your hips rocked, a tiny movement that would have been unnoticeable if she hadn’t been watching you so intently.

Her hands grasped your hips, tight enough to leave bruises, keeping you still. You whined again, eyes begging her to let you move. You were dripping with need, her thigh already slick from your arousal. The curl of her lip was undercut by the gleam in her eye, self satisfied and interested in you.

“You disgust me,” she said, “nothing but your base urges motivating you.”

“Ms Venable,” you whined, “please.”

It was torture, being held like that, pressure on your clit but held still. Your breathing was erratic, need filling your veins. Her eyes swept over you, considering you, finding you wanting.

“Go on then,” she said, turning her eyes away from you as if she didn’t care, “rut like the animal you are.”

No matter how much disinterest she tried to affect, her hands were the ones guiding you against her thigh, tensing underneath you. Your head fell back, moaning loudly, wanting her to hear how much she still effected you. She was setting a tortuous pace, your clit slowly dragging over her skin. You were whimpering, trying to catch her eye again, wanting her to see how desperate you were.

Your hips rocked faster, harder, grinding down against her. She was slow to turn her gaze back to you, sweeping over your undulating body again. Her name mingled with pleas and thanks was all that fell from your lips. She snarled at you, only flooding you with more heat. You liked how she degraded you, even as she gave you the pleasure you were so desperate for.

Her fingers grasped your chin as your head began to tip back again, forcing you to look down at her. You moaned, staring in her eyes as your hips ground down, seeking out more pleasure. She growled, pressing her thigh up harder. You wanted to bury your fingers in her hair, feel the silky strands against your skin, pull the pins out so they’d tumble down her back. You wanted to kiss her deeply, burying your moans in her mouth. You wanted her to watch you come undone.

You made a small noise in the back of your throat, breathy and throaty, a half whine. Her eyes were watching you, lips pressed together, a flush high on her cheekbones, barely visible in the firelight. You were rocking against her, chasing your high, the spring tightening within you. Your fingers clenched around nothing, not knowing if you could touch her, muscles straining to the point of trembling.

“Aren’t you done yet?” she drawled.

Your breath caught, body tensing above her, your orgasm crashing into you. Wave after wave moved through you, her name sweet nectar on your tongue as you cried it. A smirk settled on her face, eyes practically smouldering, fingers tightening on your hips again. Your head fell forward, seeking out her lips.

She allowed you to kiss her, surprisingly soft. Her tongue stroked against yours and despite the fact your heart was still beating double time from your orgasm, heat stoked in your lower stomach again. You sunk your teeth into her lip, giving in to your impulse. A hand pressed between your shoulder blades, forcing you against her body. Soft supple curves pressed against yours, the rough fabric of her dress scraping your skin.

The kiss softened again, more reminiscent of times long since gone. You sighed into her mouth, hands finally landing on her shoulder, thumb brushing against her pulse point. With strength that had always surprised you, she lifted you from her thigh, laying you back on the bed. Her hands skimmed down your body, featherlight until you were thrumming under her fingers.

“I must admit,” she murmured against your lips, “I have missed you.”

“Really?” you asked, drawing back just far enough to see her properly.

“You are the owner of my heart, little one. Holding back from having you has been torture,” she said, fingers stroking through your hair, pulling leftover pins from it.

“Then why were you?” you asked, wondering how long you’d have your Mina back.

“Maintaining distance was necessary. I could smuggle you in but once here I couldn’t show any such favouritism. Not if I wished to remain in charge, unquestioned and complete,” she said, “and you made it so incredibly difficult, little one. I felt those beautiful eyes watching me, looking so lost and hurt. All I wanted was to take that hurt away.”

“I just didn’t understand how I’d lost you. The end of the world and you were there but you weren’t and I had no one.”

Her fingers were still running through your hair, comforting and soft. Her other arm curled around your waist, rolling until she was lying on the bed, holding you close. You rested your head on her shoulder, pressing yourself to her with a level of neediness you didn’t usually feel around her. After months without, you needed it more than you needed air.

“So now what?” you asked her.

“What do you mean?” she asked, lips brushing your hairline.

“We just had unauthorised sex,” you said, “am I going to be shot?”

“Of course not.” She stiffened and you could hear the horror in her voice, “I authorised it. I am the leader of Outpost Three, after all.”

“Yeah, that whole thing has definitely awoken something in me,” you said.

Her soft chuckle vibrated through her chest, passing into yours. You pressed closer, legs tangling together, uncaring of the arousal that still coated both of your skin. Her lips pressed to your forehead.

“I noticed, little one,” she said, “perhaps next time I’ll tie you up and tease you until you think you’re going mad.”

Your shaky exhalation earned you another kiss, soft and lingering, a promise for you to cash in.

“In public we shall remain as always. The leader and a Purple. Behind closed doors, we shall be us again,” she said, “if that’s agreeable to you?”

“I’ll take whatever I can get of you,” you replied, “you’re my world and I’ve missed you so much.”

Your name was sweet on her tongue, a soft sigh, a small smile. You lent up, kissing her until she was melting beneath your touch. You felt liquid, dreamlike, you hopes coming true right in front of you.

“I love you,” you muttered against her lips.

She rolled you, hovering above you, staring down with those dark eyes. Firelight danced across her skin and she’d never looked so beautiful to you.

“I love you too, little one,” she said, before kissing you once again.

[ashhbookmarks]

In the air

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader 

Warnings: Smut, angsty-ish, reader is a bit cold/lacks emotion, Emily is a bit out of character lol (just this once), mentions of death (you know the regular cm stuff), sexual tension (or more like an attempt at it lol), curse words, eating out, vaginal fingering, nipple/breast play, dirty talk, use of pet names, degradation, praise. Let me know if i forgot something - Also MINORS DNI

Summary: When you get brought in for questioning at the FBI and they have Emily interrogate you - the tension between you is instant.

Wordcount: 2k

A/N: Um hello I guess, I’m back lol. It has been a hot minute since I both wrote and posted on here, and tbh I am a lil scared doing this again. Even tho I love posting and writing I have been so uninspired and unmotivated for so so long for some reason. But I will try to post more, can’t make any promises tho lol. 

The beginning of this has been sitting in my drafts for god knows how long and I wanted to do something with it so here I am doing it lmao

Also a reminder if it has been forgotten, english is not my first language - and I would deeply appreciate your thoughts and opinions on this, thanks besties <3

This was requested by the lovely Jas @rafetopia​​​ (you requested this such a long time ago so you have probably forgotten it, and i can’t find your ask either, sorry about that lmao) who wrote the following: “so what if you wrote a blurb or one shot with emily (or jj tbh i don’t really care i love them both) and there are some murders and the reader is the suspect and there’s a hot interrogation session (i’m a sucker for it) but the ending is up to you like if she’s innocent or not (only if you want to lol) i didn’t want to make it too specific so you still have freedom 😅”

I decided to go with Emily for this one, hope that’s fine Jas (also hope it’s fine i added the smut lmao) thank you for this request and i hope this turns out the way you wanted to <3

☽ My masterlist here

☽ Want to request something from me? Take a look here

Keep reading

[ashhbookmarks]

A game for two

Pairing: emily Prentiss x fem! Reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: teasing, profanity, smut, fluff(?),

Summary: y/n is the youngest agent with a TikTok account. And after video goes viral, people notice a connection between her and emily.

"Come on Pen! It'll be a quick break. No longer than thirty minutes!" Y/n beamed as she dragged Penelope from her office.

It was a known scene for anyone to see. The youngest member of the BAU pulling someone or a few others with her to teach them a new trend. Posting on a page she ran and deemed the official BAU page, naming it bootylicious_BAUbaddies. Fitting.

"What even is the trend this time? You post like every single day, people are gonna think we don't do our jobs." The blonde grabbed the phone. It was a complex dance with a lot of camera work. "This is what you want to post onto the BAU page? You don't think it's a bit risqué?"

The word made Y/n laugh, "it's an unofficial page under my personal information. I can post whatever I want. Plus, you are the only one who understands camera work." That's when her eyes landed on Matt and JJ walking in. "Omg! Can you guys throw papers and be flashlights?!"

"Y/n...we just got home from a case. It's almost midnight." JJ sighed, putting her stuff down anyways to help out. "Is it another dance?"

"Another? You did one today?" Penelope frowned, had Y/n found someone else to film her?

"It was a rough draft of the dance. So I could critique it and work on it. I only learned it this morning. Spencer filmed...but he doesn't have your magic Penelope," she reassured. "Lights on the sides at all times, Penelope moves forward following me, and it'll be a one take if you do it right."

Emily watched the one take from her office. Amazed by how smoothly someone could move even after a long day of murder. But yet, there was Y/n. Stretching very lightly before getting in position. The faint music from the phone played as Y/n moved in ways that made Emily blush from her office.

"You had all this energy for that dance, but you didn't have enough when running?" JJ teased, putting her phone away as she collected her belongings. "Goodnight to you all, I hopefully won't see you till nine." She left quickly, needing to get home.

Everyone else was close behind as their day came to an end. Another case and dance completed.

What Y/n didn't know, was that dance would be the one to bring her page to light.

By the morning, when Y/n was on her way, she had checked. Laughing a little bit about is the video blew up, but she scrolled and found another little idea to do. It was something simple and sweet, giving a kiss on the cheek to everyone and seeing their reaction.

It truly was harmless since the team was used to her affectionate behavior. She made it known that she cares for everyone on levels they don't even realize. How she had made it a point to spend time with them all individually continuously.

By the time she got to the bureau she could spot almost nobody. Her eyes jumped to the round table room, frowning as they all waved her in.

She set her stuff down and trudged over, "one day serial killers will respect our schedule." She sat before looking at the screen. Her frown instantly becoming laughter as it was her video. "Thats what you all were in here for?"

"Well it's only been up for a few hours and it's already surpassed three million likes." Penelope dropped the tablet with the data pulled up. "You put the BAU as one of the top units now."

"Means we'll have a lot more attention on us, and as the unit chief I have to remind you, just because it's personal, doesn't mean it won't affect you. If something is posted that is not appropriate to share, there will be consequences. Use this freedom wisely Y/n." Emily bowed her head and walked out. Heading to her office, where she would watch the dance over a few times before getting back to work.

And that's how most the day was. Just another paper work day with Y/n going around and gauging reactions from everyone for her next video.

Penelope covered her face and kissed her all over, leaving bright pink lipstick marks and a blushing Y/n. They also recorded the cleaning up and retouching as a separate video.

Luke gave his classic smile, which only earned him an eye roll and a playful laugh as he spun her and dipped her.

JJ smiled and gave a wide smile. The two talked about how sometimes the trends Y/n did brought light to such a dark job. And JJ really appreciated that.

Spencer was taken aback and started spewing facts about germs as Y/n wiped off her lips gloss from his cheek.

Rossi thought the trend was stupid, but still let it happen. Never having a smile on his face, making the viewers think he wasn't a happy old man.

The only one left was Emily. And Y/n couldn't have been happier. She knocked lightly before waltzing in. Setting the phone down on the desk, already recording as Y/n pulled over a chair.

"And what is this trend?" Emily looked at the camera, more watching how Y/n fixed her appearance and reapplied lip gloss. She was so entranced by the young agent.

Her eyes then jumped back to herself, she had silver hair and a few wrinkles. She wasn't as young as she used to be anymore. "You are still beautiful for your age, Prentiss." Her voice broke in. Could she read minds? "No you forget I'm one of the best qualifying new agents in my generation. Of course I can read your mind when you space off."

"Right..." Emily whispered. "So the trend?"

Y/n beamed, "yes the trend! In short because I can't tell you too much, it's quick simple, and everyone else can tell you that if you need another backing source. Even Rossi took part."

Emily pondered over for a second, but overall agreed. "Ok. I'll bite."

And so the younger grabbed Emily's phone, having already pre sent her the audio before walking in. "You know, I'm surprised you even have TikTok on your phone. I figured you would've been apart of the group that thinks it's useless and a waste of time. But then when I got the little notification that you joined, I have to admit, I got a bit excited. I can teach you about it if you ever need. And teach you any trend you want to learn." Y/n rambled on. Not giving Emily a chance to say anything as the sound started.

Soft music began to play as the two sat there and Y/n just so suddenly turned and kissed Emily's cheek. Her lip gloss shining against her pale skin, that soon turned a light pink. Her world went silent as her heart hammered and she looked to Y/n with a stunned smile.

It was silent as the two just stared at each other. But it wasn't a friendly stare it seems, Emily was looking absolutely smitten and Y/n could see it. The thought that her boss could possibly like her making her grow a matching pink.

The sound ended and began to replay, but was lost upon deaf ears. Suddenly the room felt different. Did it suddenly get warm in here?

Y/n was forced to watch as Emily glanced down to her lips. Licking her own in the process. It made her blush even deeper. "Emily..." she barely got out.

The silver fox leaned in closer to her prey. Suddenly eager to get just a taste. Her hand reached up to cup Y/n's soft cheek, feeling truly how warm she was. Smiling down at the stunned agent.

She pulled Y/n closer. Just barely touching their lips. Emily enjoyed the small gasp that escaped as her eyes widen in shock.

However, the knock at the door ruined their moment. Emily grabbed her phone, turning it off to end the song playing on repeat. That's when she noticed the other phone still recording the whole moment. And she flashed a smile to the camera, her canine seeming to twinkle in the light.

"Come in," she recomposed herself. Hands folded on the table.

Y/n on the other hand, had composed herself on the outside. But internally she was a wreck. She never knew Emily would be so capable of making her a mess. Yeah, she's thought about it, but it wasn't anything like what just happened.

JJ poked her head in. "We just got a case....it's bad." The worry on her face being enough for both to snap into work mode.

~

The case was over in a week. A week of sleepless nights and too much coffee. Everyone was exhausted.

"I can not wait to be on that plane," Y/n groaned. "I swear I'm taking tomorrow off. I'm going to sleep all day long."

"Now that does not sound like a bad idea," Luke agreed, along with the others. "A nice little at home day. What do you say Chief?" He turned to Emily.

She took a good look at everyone's exhausted face, and her decision was clear but she took too long to observe and didn't notice Y/n walking over and hugging her.

"If you say no, I will make the world think you actually hate us." Y/n playfully threatened, smiling up to her boss and practically skipping back to her bags. "I mean it." She suddenly had a serious face on.

Emily knew it was just the sleep deprivation that was causing this much attitude. But a little part of her, felt that she really did mean it. "Fine, tomorrow you can all have the day off. It'll be Saturday anyways." She gave in.

They all cheered as they boarded the plane. Spencer spread out on the small couch, JJ across curled up into a chair, Luke and Rossi on the other side sitting horizontally from each other, Matt and Tara in the other seats across from each other. Then there was Emily.

Y/n figured she would've sat across her, keeping a small space, but she wasn't complaining when she sat next to her. "Switching it up on me?" She teased.

"Mm well, I figured last time we were this close we got even closer." She threw back, reminding the agent of their last encounter. "Did you ever post the video?"

Slightly stunned, she shook her head. Her ponytail brushing against the seat and reminding her of her headache. She went to reach for it, eager to pull it out.

"Here," Emily broke in quickly. "Let me," her hands were up by the black rubber band suddenly. Carefully pulling at it and the hair. Dropping the hair tie onto the table and taking it upon herself to scratch the others head. Her nails sending tingles all down Y/n's body.

And y/n couldn't deny it, Emily was good with her hands. She seem to suddenly know how to touch her in ways she didn't even know. She scratched in the right spot and she hummed a moan as her eyes were shut.

The team all looked over to the two of them. Questioning at first but then laughing. "So she finally gets the famous 'Prentiss scratch," Spencer cracks the joke.

"Have you all had one..." Y/n sharply inhaled when she got a new spot. "Ohmygod..." she whispered as her face contorted.

"Enjoy it while it last, you only experience it once. Mine was four years ago." Luke mentioned.

"Mine was for my birthday, I felt like my hair was thirty times lighter." JJ gave her experience. Soon everyone was talking about theirs.

And before she could process any words, Emily's hands were leaving from her head. "No, don't stop!" She protested, earning chuckles from around at the reaction. But her hands left anyways, and Y/n whipped to look at Emily. Her pupils blown wide.

It wasn't a reaction Emily thought she could get. Did her touch really work her agent up that much? A sly smirk crossed her lips as she shook her head and turned away.

"You can't just give us the knowledge of how good your head scratches are and then just rip it away! That's vicious!" She put up a fight. Hoping that it would get Emily to continue her actions. "I thought you liked us..." her eyes suddenly pleading.

"I'm with her on this one, come on Prentiss!" Luke played along. "It's a gift, those hands."

Y/n dropped her head to look at Emily's hands. They were stunning. How only a few rings decorated them, but they all matched perfectly. Matching the bracelet that wrapped her wrist. Then were her arms. Strong and yet so careful. Sculpted by the best.

"Those hands..." Y/n mouthed to herself. Her eyes snapping up to Emily's. Already finding hers staring back. With a huff and blushing cheeks, Y/n turned away.

~

Y/n woke up, but it was colder on the planes than usual. Everyone was asleep, and by best guess they still have four more hours. It was too cold to sleep though, she wanted her sweatshirt.

But she was on the inside, the window seat. It was either over and out or under or just climb over the sleeping woman.

"Do you need something?" Emily's eyes fluttered open. Her head rolling over to stare. Even waking up she was still beautiful.

"It's cold..." she mumbled. Hoping it wasn't to much to ask, "my sweatshirt is in my bag." But instead, Emily slipped out of hers and handed it over. Falling back asleep before any protest could begin.

She sat there with the sweatshirt in hand. Knowing there was nothing to do but put it on. And so she did, along with setting up her phone and grabbing the mic of her headphones.

The video began. "Hey vlog, or whatever...turns out, I read her ," the camera panned over to Emily. "Signs right! She gave me her sweatshirt and the video we made...guys listen I can't even add it in because of how intimate it is. Maybe I'm delusional though. Cause she's literally my boss ...I think I'm being crazy....nah, she definetly likes me. Emily Prentiss, I hope you're ready for what's next." And the video ended. Lasting a little over a minute.

But she didn't fall back asleep, she couldn't. Her mind raced with too much thoughts. For another two hours she had to weighs her pros and cons of going for it.

Eventually she rubbed her eyes and sighed. She leaned back and closed her eyes again. Counting sheep until she drifted off.

A few more hours had passed, leaving only an hour left until the landing. Emily had woken up know. Instantly feeling something on her shoulder. Slowly looking down, she saw Y/n peacefully asleep.

In her moment, she pulled out her phone and took a few pictures. Dropping it quickly as the other stirred awake. Lifting her head and peeling open her eyes.

"That was some good sleep, holy shit." She yawned. Her comment earning tired laughs from everyone else. She leaned over to Emily, "see how they all are followers? Waking up at the same time as me? Wannabes." She joked.

Emily shook her head. "I'm glad you got some sleep." She hummed. Checking her phone now, and when she opened it, the pictures were pulled up. She tried to swiped out of them, but Y/n had seen them.

Blushing madly when the woman met her eyes. It was a hard stare, causing feelings to arise when they shouldn't. Her legs squeezed slightly at the eye contact. "Was that...I'm sorry if I was leaning, I truly didn't mean to." The apology fell with a laugh following. It was genuine and still light. "You're a little weird though, Unit Cheif Prentiss. Taking pictures of your young sleeping agent."

Her comment was full of playfulness. Emily knew that easily. It made her smile slightly. "Can you blame me? When a cute agent as yourself is sleeping, it's no doubt I'd take pictures."

Y/n elbowed her arm and shook her head, looking down to her phone. "Be careful, if someone sees they'll think I'm your sugar baby." The joke fell without second thought.

It caught Emily off guard. How easy the joke was made. She didn't continue playing the game, silently pondering over the joke.

"Seems like someone can't handle being a sugar mommy," Tara teased from across the way. Having watched the entire interaction. "Should make it your lock screen, really sell it. It'll bring you in more sugar babies. Have one for everyday of the week."

Y/n scoffed with a smirk, "who says I wanna share my new found sugar mommy? I like the attention only on me."

The jet laughed. "You make enough to not even need a sugar mommy, plus, sharing is caring." Matt butted in now.

"Even if I don't need financial support, Prentiss is still attractive and also...I don't care." She gave a shrug, looping her arms with the woman next to her and leaning on her. "There's only room for one sugar baby in her life."

Emily couldn't believe the conversation she was hearing. The term they kept using. Sugar mommy. Would Y/n let her spoil her if she asked?

Then there was the physical contact. How she held onto her. Pushing her breast against her arm and holding on so possessively. Who says I wanna share....her words rang in Emily's head. She wouldn't want to have anyone else if she had her.

She took a quick glance down to the other, finding her completely unphased by the conversation. Instead she was scrolling through her phone, looking for a new trend to partake in.

~

It had been a few days now. Everyone was doing paperwork and trying to finish their day. That's when Penelope came rushing in towards Y/n.

"People are noticing!" She squealed as she put the phone onto the desk. There was an edit made between the young agent and her boss. Comments about how they look 'down bad' for each other. "You and Emily are becoming a very popular topic, fifth trending hashtag."

"That's hilarious. How much evidence is built against us now?" She scrolled through a few comments, them all making her smile. She took it upon herself to scroll further on the new hashtag. Over a thousand videos reacting to the edit and a few more edits.

"Just wait till they find out she's your sugar mommy," Tara came and took interest in the phone as well. "Looking at it now, you two do look like you're beating around the bush."

"Well that's cus it's only a one sided bush. Emily Prentiss does not want anything romantic to do with me." Y/n clicked off the phone, handing it back over. "She probably wants someone more wise and shit. I have a TikTok account with the term bootylicious in it."

Both woman looked down in disbelief. That when JJ came in. "I have know Emily for a while now, and I can tell you know, that woman let's you get away with more than she ever would've. There's definitely two sides of the bush."

The woman in question came out, looking over her team and being curious of what the women were all talking about. "What's the conversation?"

Y/n sighed, "we've become a trending hashtag. They're beginning to think we're more than just friends. Then Tara made the joke about when they find out you're my sugar mommy." She explained shortly. Leaving out the bush part.

"Oh? What are they saying?" Emily questioned, almost feeling desperate to hear more of this new information.

Penelope opened the phone and handed it over. The four letting their boss scroll a bit and read. A small smile cracking on her lips. "Yeah...wait till they find out you're my sugar baby." Emily joked as well.

Truly, she was hiding the sudden excitement. Was there a chance? Surely she had made enough moves for the other to figure it...right? She almost did kiss her the other week.

"I have a meeting though, if anything comes through just shoot me a text." She made her exit, the smile really growing as she couldn't stop thinking of the two together. The things that she would do.

But the thoughts got lost over the long day. Papers being filled out and turned in. By the end, everyone was just happy to be free.

Emily had walk out, her bag in hand. Confirming they were actually done.

"We so have to get drinks. We haven't had a day were we finished reasonably on time." Y/n groaned, stretching from her chair. "Plus I wanna do who we all think will be the drunkest."

"If it's a competition I'm so there," Luke agreed. "But you're so going down."

Tara scoffed, "you do not want to play any drinking game with that one. She reigns undefeated on girls nights."

"We don't know how she does it, she's held the title since the first night. We were all set up that night..." Penelope reminisced in the memory. How drunk they all were...

"But you're so welcomed to try, Alvez." She beamed in pride. "I say we all change and meet in an hour?"

They all agreed and began to walk out together. Emily noticed how Y/n walked over to Penelope's car. "I can drive you?" She offered. "I live closer than Pen does to you so she wouldn't have to go out her way."

She glanced to Penelope, her head now facing away from Emily. Giving the blonde a wink before turning back. "Sure, it makes more sense. Though, this is very sugar mommy esc of you, Emily." She joked as she walked over. Looking through her lashes with such an innocent look, "I bet you'll even put your hand on my thigh and help me pick what to wear, won't you?"

Emily stared down, her pupils dilating at the words. Her lips curled into a devious smile. Her mind running with possibilities.

She simply turned, leading back to her car. Opening the door for the other as she slowly rounded the car, the smirk never leaving her lips.

And for the entire drive her hand traced circled on the others thigh. Yet, Emily never got a reaction. Y/n played it cool and just scrolled through her phone.

Although, Y/n could hardly read anything on her screen. The burning sensation being the only thing she could truly think of. But she enjoyed the game, eager to see how much Emily could take before loosing it.

They parked and walked in silence next to each other. The teen in the main lobby giving a second glance at how the two looked. She had seen the edit and couldn't believe her eyes now. Quick to pull out her phone and film the two getting into the elevator. Capturing how Emily's right hand fell to Y/n's lower back and the two shared a look before moving. Disappearing into the silver box.

Y/n gave a small exhale once it was just the two of them. "Someone can't handle their own game?" Emily's words were quick. Her eyes already staring back and full of wonder.

"I don't know what you're getting at, Agent Prentiss" she tried to deny the grin but it was useless once she looked at Emily. The whole situation was just setting in to her.

It set in even faster when the silver fox had her against the elevator wall. Her right hand gripping at her jaw as the other held her close by the waist. "You don't seriously think you'll win, do you?" Her voice was vicious. "Y/n, you're so much smart than that." Her brown eyes scanned over ever feature, lasting the longest on the plush lips.

The elevator dinged, and in a blink Emily was off her. Standing as if nothing happened, but she was stunned when Y/n walked away...unbothered entirely.

Her hands fiddled with her keys before finding the one to unlock her apartment. Laughing lightly as Emily rested her hands on her hips. "You are handsy, I must say." She joked. As the door unlocked, her hips pushed back into the others, causing the hands to slip more forward. A playful gasp came, "maybe even too handsy!"

She broke from the grasp, entering the home and taking a deep breath. "It's nice to be home," she dropped her stuff by the door. Y/n disappeared around a corner, only giving the choice to follow.

When Emily obeyed, she was speechless. The view from the big window was insane. Being able to see over half the city and the bureau. "If you would like to pregame, I have a mean stash of dark."

"Trying to get me drunk already?" The older came closer, leaning against the cool marble counter. Once again, her answer was a mere laugh.

Y/n had this glimmer in her eyes. It's the same one she has every time she's about to say something unexpected. This time being no different.

She came close to her boss, leaning into her and pulling her down by the neck. "I don't need you to be drunk for you to sleep with me. I already have you and you didn't even notice, so much for a profiler." She backed off now, still housing that devious look. "It's a shame the teams waiting for us, would've loved to see where this went..." her voice trailed off as her eyes looked Emily up and down.

Y/n winked, leaving the guest in the living room as she went to her bedroom. At first not hearing foot steps behind her, then they were hot on her trail. Glancing over her shoulder, she couldn't help the rush of excitement at the frustrated Emily. Everything was going to plan.

Emily turned to shut the door, carefully and not slamming it. Spinning on her heal to really lay it down, but Y/n stood by the closet entrance fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Pulling it up slowly, but right when her bra shows, she turns. Entering the closet with a sexy sway in her hips.

She passed through her outfits, trying to find the new dress she ordered. As she was about to push the George Town sweater over, hands wrapped around her waist and a nose was burrowing into her hair.

She let it play out, continuing to search for the dress. Stepping over twice while the woman still held her. Her hand pushed the black formal dress over, finding just what she was looking for. She felt the felt of the hanger under her hand, but forgot everything by a new touch. Soft lips hovered over her neck, letting warm breaths fan over the skin. Skilled hands roaming up to her chest and cupping her boobs through the bra.

The moan was light, quiet. But the groan following from behind was deep, lustful. "Is that all it took? Touching you right?" Emily whispered against her ear.

Y/n wanted to cave in, she was ready to as well, but she knew just one more would win her everything. So, with a steady hand, she grabbed the dress and turned in Emily's arm. "And what would you know about touching me right? Do you fantasize about me? Is that how you know?" Her voice steadier than ever.

Emily let her tongue dart over her lips. "You have no idea..." she thought this was it. That drinks would be forgotten and she could finally have her.

But it's never easy with Y/n. "I can give you a sneak peak if you'd like..." she beamed up to Emily. Not giving her the chance to respond as the younger stood on her tip-toes to be next to her ear. Fake quiet moans falling from her plush lips, "oh...right there...yes Emily...yes.."

Her grip tightened on the other's waist as her breathing became erratic. "Baby, id make you scream." She leaned her lips closer. She was right there, lips practically on hers.

That's when the small laugh came, and Emily had no idea what was so funny. "I always win," was all she got out before breaking away and leaving Emily on the verge on loosing it.

She groaned again, this time in frustration. Her head was shaking as she tried to piece together what the next move could be. The dress, she figured.

Her eyes snapped up when she thought of the outfit. Hands covering her face as she tossed her head back. It hugged onto her so well, showing off enough legs to keep Emily busy for hours. The perfect amount of cleavage could be seen. And the flowy sleeves to give a little arm coverage. It fell right below her ass.

Emily swallowed thickly as she left towards the door. Trying to ignore the sound of laughter that followed her out. "Can't handle a little skin?" She teased as she brushed pass. Locking her door before looping her arm to Emily's and handing over her keys.

The action confused Emily. "Why didn't you bring a purse? I'm sure you had one?" They stood outside the elevator.

"I don't plan to come home tonight," Y/n hummed. She stepped a little closer to the woman, squeezing her arm just a little to bring her eyes down. "That is...if you give up first. Cause I can play this out all night. And personally, I don't think you can last all night."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of, bunny." She gave the new nickname. And it made Y/n's heart beat a little faster and her smile grow a little more. The blush dusting her cheeks as her pupils dilated a little more.

"Bunny? Is that because you're a silver fox?" Y/n joked, feeling excited at the new found name. The elevator opened and the two get on. Just them. Neither one stepping away or saying anything until they hit the eight floor.

The doors opened and in walked a man that seemed unfamiliar. He was fine as he was...until he gave a once over on Y/n, then one on Emily. The difference being the smirk he gave the first, then the disgusted he gave the second.

He seemed closer to Y/n's age, and that's what they assumed was the reason for his comment. "If you ever get tired of the old hag, I can support you." The words fell out and both agents seemed star struck.

"And what is it you do for a living?" Y/n asked, loving how the interacting had Emily pull her closer to her and wrapped her arm around to hold her hips.

"I'm a college professor. Youngest in my building." He flashed his smile. Enjoying the attention, but soon letting his mood fall when the woman shared a look. "And what does she do? Crochet and feed her cats?"

"She's the FBI's section chief....so I think she's got you beat..." Y/n shrugged with a mocking look. Getting a mean look as he got off on the fifth floor. Grumbling as he shook his head. The doors closed a few seconds after. "I told you people think you're my sugar mommy."

Emily scoffed and let the tiny smile spread on her lips. "Maybe you're the one who fantasizes...this whole sugar mommy talk. Would you like me to spoil you rotten? Is that what this whole game is?" Her hand sliding down from the hip to rest right on her lower back.

It was a quick motion suddenly. She pushed Y/n forward and let her arms wrap her up. Her left hand holding onto the left boob and her right hand gripping her right thigh.

Y/n's hips pushed back into Emily. "I don't kn-,"

"I don't know? But bunny, you do know. You know you want to give in and just let me have you." Her hand slid closer to her core. "We could have so much fun if you give in."

It was tempting, but she shook her head. They were at the second floor. Trying to ignore the hand slipping into her panties. How close she was.

The elevator dinged, and Emily was off in no time. Something she was so good at. Disappearing like a ghost. Leaving Y/n cold from her touch.

The doors opened and Y/n relooped their arms. Passing the teen in the lobby once again. Y/n flashing her a friendly smile as they left. Emily's car being right in the front.

~

It was about two in the morning, and the drinking battle was about to begin. With the entire bar watching, Luke and Y/n had ten shots of light, and three dark shots.

Matt stood behind him, cheering him on. Saying how the rumors were fake and she couldn't drink. And Y/n knew they were all drunk and just saying things cause they can.

Emily was behind her. Hands on her hips as she gave them a squeeze. "Put him in his place and make me proud, bunny." Her voice was seductive on all levels.

Y/n met Luke's eyes. Both having hands on the pool table by their first shot. "You're so fucked Alvez," she slurred. She leaned over to him slightly, "I'm gonna make her proud."

"Wait let's film this!" Penelope came up. Setting up one of their phones to capture both of them. Giving a drunk thumbs up as Tara stood on the other end.

She inhaled, "ok, I want it nice and clean. Ready.." the room went silent. "Set..." the two contestants glance at each other one last time. "Go!" Tara shouted.

It was a blur, truly. Shot after shot. They stayed close the entire time, but by the fifth, Luke began to slow by a millisecond. That was all Y/n need for a lead, and she jumped three shots ahead. Making it to the darks before he could get down his sixth. Cheering when she slammed down the last one.

Her arms in the air as the room cheered with her. "I told you Alvez! I make my woman proud!" She gloated around. Reaching and grabbing the two dark shots he never made it to and turned to hand one to Emily. Pleased when she understood and they shared the victory.

JJ laughed at the sight, "do you even have a limit?" She also grabbed an unfinished shot. Passing one to Tara and Penelope. Matt taking the last vodka shot and handing Rossi the dark.

Y/n shook her head with a wide smile. "I was the academies party animal. I had to be able to out drink everyone." She spilled her secrets.

"You're who threw the party that nearly caused a city power outage?" Tara furrowed her brows, enjoying the openness.

Y/n grinned, "that's me! I out drank Captain Johnson that night." She took pride in that achievement.

"Mmm as much as I would love to hear a drunk confession, we are closed. Your drinking battle was the last round I poured." The bartender came over and informed.

And everyone was out within half an hour. The team biding drunken goodbyes as they went their own ways. Everyone too drunk to notice Y/n and Emily leaving together.

Their drive back to the closer apartment being filled with humming and wind blowing through the car. They stopped at a stop sign, and Y/n stopped humming along.

A sudden realization that the night was almost over...and Emily had still yet to make the her move. "What's wrong?" Her voice rang through her head. "You seem upset now..." the worry laced her words, only to be countered with a cute pout.

"You're being stubborn." Y/n grumbled. The effects of how much she drank really getting her in the car. Which was new for Emily to be witnessing.

She figured that the passenger would be more submissive now, but that would be too easy. Y/n was the farthest thing from easy. Always throwing in a curve ball. This was her drunken curve ball.

While the light stayed red, she just acted. Grabbing Emily's jaw with her light pink nails digging just slightly into her soft flesh. She brought the older closer, tight to touching their lips.

"Why won't you give in?" She pouted. Eyes flickering down to her lips, then back up. "Do you not want me? Have you played me Emily?" Her voice was quiet and fragile.

A laugh nearly fell out of Emily's mouth, but she contained it. Grabbing the hand that held her face, "because I want to be able to do whatever I want with you." She pulled the hands away as the light turned green. Y/n huffed and crossed her arms. Looking away and out the window. "Pouting about it won't help your side, bunny. You could give in and we'd be over this game already."

"No," the response was instant. Her eyes wide and back on Emily. "I'll play this game forever until you give in. I know you want me in ways I can't even think of, so you'll be the one suffering. Especially since you can't do anything about it." She yapped. Her mind truly telling her that her plan was going to work.

Emily rolled her eyes as they pulled up to Y/n's apartment. Ignoring the questions of why they were here. She opened the passenger door, sighing at the agent who was acting childish.

"Y/n."

"No."

"Y/n, let's go."

"No."

They got into a staring match. And Emily was just not having it anymore. It was late and she was tired just as much as the other was. So instead, she reached in.

"Wait no, stop!" Y/n tried to protest but the hold Emily had was too strong. She was thrown over the shoulder as she kept trying to get free. "Out me down! My butts gonna show!"

That's when a hand was placed over it. Holding the dress down and making Y/n burn red. As soon as it was there, it was gone and she was set down. Facing the elevator.

"You're no fun." She grumbled. Meeting the brown eyes in the reflection. It earned her a small laugh as the doors opened and she got nudged in.

"And you're drunk. If that's even possible." Emily joked. Her hands found home on the others waist. Holding her swaying body up and from falling. "But you did take thirteen shots in a row. Which I must say, is pretty impressive."

Y/n suddenly switched moods. Turning with a bright smile. "Anything to make you proud." Her eyes being genuine with each word. "Luke never stood a chance anyways."

"That confident from the start, huh?" Her brow arched in question.

Y/n shrugged, "I had you on my side from the start. Well actually I planned it and you fell right into the trap. But shhh that's a secret." Her index finger rose to her lips.

"Your trap?" Emily was full of curiosity now. What plan did she come up with? "Tell me about it?" But she shook her head, spinning to face the silver doors. "Please? What did that pretty head plan?" Still nothing. "Bunny?"

The doors opened and the younger was gone. Swaying while fidgeting with her keys for the right one.

It wasn't until Emily came up and carefully grabbed the keys. Getting the door open in only a few seconds. The accomplishment getting a loud cheer from Y/n, who was being directed into the apartment.

This did not set well with Y/n. And making it easy wasn't gonna happen either.

Before Emily knew it, she was chasing Y/n down the hallway. Scooping her up bridal style. "We do not need to be running around like this. Someone will hear us and file a complaint."

Y/n gave a chuckle, "we're the only ones on the floor," she pointed Emily's chest. Stumbling into the apartment and kicking off her shoes. She found her way to infront the big windows.

Emily moved in the silence to get a glass of water. She figured Y/n would stay by the window...but then again she just chased her down the hall.

Arms wrapped around her and a head hit the back of her dark silk shirt. The action was cute, she'd admit that, but she was also set to get some water in with all the alcohol.

Without thinking much of her actions, she turned and gently gripped the jaw. Tilting her head back and bring the glass to her lips. "Drink." Emily simply commanded. Watching at how easily she complied, tapping twice on her wrist to say she was done. "No. All of it. If you can do thirteen shots you can finish a glass of water."

~

Waking up, Y/n felt like hot garbage. She had to have been drunk last night for the consequences she would face. Especially once her stomach begin to turn. In a blink she was in the bathroom. Letting the night free from herself.

There was a hand holding back her hair and another on her back. And if she wasn't regretting whatever happened, she would've been in defense mode instantly.

"I'll go get you some water," Emily's voice rang in her head. Oh dear god. What happened last night?

She sat back and tried to recall anything. Not getting past roughly ten. She came home with Emily, then went out for drinks, then had said drinks.

The possibilities of what could've happened continue to haunt her. "Here," the voice broke her thoughts. She looked up to Emily, who was giving such a kind look almost always while looking at her and holding out a glass of water.

It made her feel less nervous. "Emily Prentiss, did you sleep with your sugar baby while she was drunk?" She joked about what she thought happened, taking the glass. She wanted to know what happened in the missing hours.

The comment made her boss flush pink, "no! No you were far too out of it for anything of that sorts..." She shook her head, pausing ever so slightly. "I'd want you to remeber screaming my name."

It was Y/n's turn to flush. "Well played." She downed the water and got up. "Unfortunately I don't remember much after ten...and seeing that it is well into the day makes me assume it was a long night?" She prepared to brush her teeth and rid of the lingering taste in her mouth.

Emily laughed at the confession. "So you would say you finally got drunk?" She teased, coming up close to the other. Y/n rolled her eyes and was about to walk away from the bathroom. But Emily grabbed her wrist and spun her back. Holding her firmly at the waist. "You didn't answer my question."

"Wouldn't you enjoy that? Me obeying you so easily?" Y/n was so easy to quip back. Never in the mood to back down. "And even if I did confess that to you, nobody would believe you."

Emily was surprised at the remark. "You think the team wouldn't believe me? And why's that? You have something to counter it?"

"If you as much say a word of me being drunk, you'll never get what you want. And I will make it only hell for you." She got closer, the two being nothing but a whisper apart.

"And what is it I want?"

"Me."

"Confident much?"

Y/n answered with a smirk of many implications. Leaving the grasp to change into a different lounge outfit.

"Do you have any Saturday plans I should be aware of?" Emily sat on the edge of the bed. Watching as Y/n moved to collect a new outfit. Throwing each article onto the bed.

"Why yes, actually! I have a hot date coming over." She flashed a smile over her shoulder. "Wouldn't want to third wheel would you?"

Emily rolled her eyes and looked towards the window, facing away from Y/n. "Your date would be the one third wheeling." She was about to stand, but she was weighed down.

Y/n had made her way over into Emily's lap, straddling her and looking down to her. "You're right. Especially because you're my sugar mommy. If they touched you I think I would've lost it."

"So you admit it?" Emily had a hopefully grin. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, this was it.

"Admit to what exactly?"

"That you would let me spoil you. Be your sugar mommy?"

"Mm...no. I don't need your money. Plus, being a sugar mommy is an arrangement with no feelings involved. And if I wanted to put myself through a literal living hell than I would, but that's not on my bucket list. Not good for my mental state either." She answered truthfully without directly saying her truth.

Emily processed the words, slowly putting them together. Not realizing how Y/n began to form a smile and get up. Her head shaking while she thought in her own world.

"I don't have any Saturday plans. The most is finding some movie that I haven't seen before. Do you have any Saturday plans?" She began to get dress.

Emily was still in her own world with the words. And when she looked back to the now dressed woman, she was full of questions.

"So does that mean...?" Was all she let out, still not knowing if she meant was she meant.

Y/n laughed and came to stand in front of Emily. Hands on her shoulders, and Emily's pulled her closer by the back of her thighs. "You are the worst profiler in the entire unit," Y/n teased, a cocky smirk in her lips.

"But that whole little game you played? You're telling me you meant it?" Emily stared up, confused still by the idea of it.

Someone as young as Y/n having a crush on someone older. Old enough to be her mother almost.

"The idea is not that hard to grasp Emily Prentiss. I like you for you. I don't want you for some arrangement. I want you as my girlfriend." Y/n cupped her cheek, bringing her lips to be just a breath away. "But now that you mentioned my little game, just know I still plan to win."

The younger began to back up, making the mistake of turning her back on Emily. It was the second her back was turned, that Emily was moving. Spinning her around and pinning her between the dresser.

"I am not playing your game anymore. You're not going to tell me all that and then just walk away after a night of teasing." Emily's eyes were dark and swarming with emotions.

Y/n cupped her cheek once more, watching the woman lean into the touch. Turning her head to place a kiss to her palm. From her palm to her fingertips and back, the action caused Y/n to fail at comprehending anything. How delicate Emily's lips were against her skin. To be able to feel her lips pushing against her skin.

"Give in." Y/n whispered, knowing she was only a few seconds off from giving in herself.

"What is winning to you?" Emily kept placing kisses against her skin, trailing up her arm and to her neck.

They met eyes finally, a hair apart as they stared at each other. Y/n licked her lips, "everything." And that's when Emily closed the space. Kissing hungrily but softly. Tasting the fresh mint in a delightful way.

Y/n smiled in the kiss, putting just as much emotion into it as the other, if not more. How her heart was beating to a fast pace tune, her mind was silent with only thoughts of Emily.

The two stayed there for a little before the kiss began to get more heated. Emily dropped to scatter kisses all over the others neck. Taking Y/n by surprise with a bite to her pulse point, eliciting a gasp and a grip in the silver mane.

Y/n tried to push off the dresser, her back still digging into the edge, but it seemed Emily was lost in the moment and almost growled. The sound was deep and her voice came out gravelly. "I could practically eat you, you're so sweet. Letting me have you here."

Her hands slipped under the oversized shirt, feeling how soft and warm Y/n was in contrast to her cold hands. Her rings not helping as the metal touched the skin.

Y/n tried to push off again, growing eager to get to the bed. "Emily...the bed is right behind us." She managed out, eyes glossy as she scanned over the messy duvet. Her hand came up to her chest when she didn't get an answer, pushing her off slightly to break her trance.

Emily's breathing was erratic and her pupils blown wide. Her brows dropped as she was confused by the push. "You got a bit too lost there," Y/n blushed. "Is that really what I do to you?"

"Oh bunny you have no idea," Emily smirked. Throwing a look over her shoulder to the bed. "Are you sure about this?"

Y/n followed and glance over Emily's shoulder, looking at the bed. "Yes. But...I won Emily." She smirked up, watching the dread fill her eyes. "Oh trust me, you'll enjoy me being in charge. I'm full of surprises remember?"

The older groaned and took a step back. "What is it you want me to do?" She sounded almost defeated.

Y/n laughed and pushed her back to the end of the bed. Leaning over her slightly, "you make it seem like I'm going to torture you. You wait here for five minutes, I'll knock and you'll close your eyes and then I'll tell you to open them, m'kay?"

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Fine." Emily agreed. Sitting for the two minutes on the edge of the bed, taking in every detail in the room. Hoping to see it again. The knock had came and Emily closed her eyes.

Y/n peeked her head in first, making sure they were closed. Before going in to set up her winning. She had changed into a cute lingerie set, one she knew Emily wouldn't be able to resist.

The outfit change taking five minutes. "Ok." She stood right in front of Emily. Entirely on display for her. "You can open your eyes."

And when Emily did, her mouth ran dry. Y/n looked absolutely stunning. "I don't.."

"Ruin me Emily Prentiss." Was all Y/n had to say before she was being pulled in and being covered in kisses.

Emily took her time covering every inch she could get with kisses. Leaving several hickies on her neck before scattering them all across her chest. To anyone else it would look like a whole different story.

Y/n's pants and moans spurred the boss on. She truly would start to believe Emily had fantasize about this for how she just knew where to touch. It made her squirm for more. "Mmm, Emily..."

"I'm going to take my time with you." She was nothing short of stating a fact. "You look so adorable in this set. Have you been saving it?" Her deep brown eyes bored down at Y/n. "Did you order it with that dress from last night? I never told you how good you looked." Her head dipped down and kissed over the hardened nipple. Sending a jolt of electricity through her body. "And then when you beat Alvez," a kiss to the other. "You truly are something special, Y/n."

Her hands slipped behind to unclasp the mesh bra. Freeing the boobs and watching them naturally be. Emily licked her lips once again, ducking to the right nipple first.

Her tongue swirling over it lightly at first, but then adding more pressure. Listening to the sinful sounds that rang in the room.

"Emily...please..." Y/n breathily begged. Not knowing if she was ready for what Emily was planning. But her answer was teeth grazing her chest. Earning a new sound from the woman above.

"Baby, best things come when you wait. I want to work you up so much that it's undeniable that you'll never want anyone else." Emily answered truthfully, continuing her ministrations.

Y/n was lost in the feeling, but it wasn't enough. And it was clear it wasn't going to be enough anytime soon.

And after minutes that felt like timeless hours, Emily began to move down further. Her hair tickling in her previous place. She was back to her loving kisses all across her thighs. Feeling the legs shake slightly.

"You're so easy to work up," Emily hummed against the inner thigh. Her eyes staring up at the beauty above her. Watching as her head shook side to side. "Really?"

"You're just better than what I imagined," Y/n confessed without thinking. Realizing her words too late to even take back, and she knew they fed Emily's ego like a three course meal.

She wanted more though. Emily pulled back and hovered over Y/n, a yearning look hidden behind all the lust. "You've imagine it? So you do admit it. You've thought about me in naughty ways, how perverted of you." A laugh followed out. Making Y/n suddenly feel small at the comment, and not in an enjoyable way.

There was no answer in return and that's when Emily could see through the clouds. She had crossed a line and potentially screwed everything up.

Without realizing, the silver fox backed off entirely. Moving to the end of the bed and rubbing her eyes a bit. "Y/n...I'm sorry if I've crossed a line."

The younger sat up, crawling over to the other. Grabbing her hands and holding them silently at first. Trying to gather the right words for this situation. "...it's ok, but just know you're dealing with a pillow princess in all honesty. I like to be treated highly, like when you call me bunny. I enjoy that very, very, much. Your stone cold demeanor is sexy at work, but I want the real Emily Prentiss. The one who knows what emotions are." She snuck her hand on Emily's cheek and leaned in. Kissing her softly and with unspoken words. "Now don't let this afternoon be ruined." Y/n whispered before slowly moving toward the middle of her bed.

Sitting on her knees with her back arched and pushing her bruised chest forward. Her eyes glistening for Emily to come finish what she's started.

And Emily was not going to miss her chance. She took a deep breath and her eyes were filled with lust again. Exciting Y/n on a new level. She made her way up, standing on her knees as her hands slipped around the smooth waist. Leaning in and claiming the plush lips as her own now, forcing Y/n to bend back as well. Emily sunk down with each kiss until she was eye level.

"Can I undress you?" Y/n fiddled with the shirt. Only now realizing that Emily was in her clothes. The shirt and sweats making her seem so at peace. But as her hardened nipples poked against the fabric, it was hard not to imagine the lack undergarments.

A small smile played on Emily's lips, "of course you can, bunny." The two stood and Y/n took her time. Trying to mentally prepare to see her wild thoughts with her own eyes now.

She played with the hem of the shirt, balling it up before pushing the fabric up. Showing of the freckles that adored her chest. Taking a moment to admire the skin details, eager to ingrain every spot into her brain.

Her eyes then jumped up to Emily, who was staring and focusing on every move. "You're absolutely stunning...." Y/n let the smile take over as she leaned in for a kiss. Their bare chests pressing against each other.

The warmth of Y/n clashing with the coldness of Emily. But together they balanced the other out. Cooling down the burning skin, and warming up the icy touches.

Pulling back only slightly, Y/n slid her hands down. Slipping her hands to push down the shorts. Revealing the simple black underwear.

"Those mine?" Y/n gave a playful laugh, figuring if everything else was.

Emily shook her head though, "no I went home while you were asleep. I had to change from last night's clothes."

Y/n furrowed her brows. "So then why wear my clothes?"

"So that even when you were asleep, I could still be surrounded by you." Emily answered so easily. Gaining blush from the younger.

Emily would've loved to stay in that moment, it was simple and the start of something new, but when Y/n stood there in nothing but lace panties, it was hard to stay there.

"I could be surrounded by you forever," Emily smirked before pushing the other back onto the bed. Not waiting to dive to where they both wanted her. She took a deep breath in, "you smell so sweet, do you taste this sweet?"

Y/n let out a giggle, "you could find out." She propped herself up a bit on her elbows. Finally seeing Emily between her legs, growing impossibly wetter at the sight.

Maybe it was the lighting, but the sparkle in Emily's brown eyes was enough to say she planned to. She littered a few more kisses, leading Y/n to believe that there was more teasing, but with the first swipe of her tongue, both knew how this was going to end.

It was like an instant addiction. One Emily would never get enough of and wouldn't want to try and quit. And maybe she got a little out of hand when she tore the panties right off. Causing a surprised gasp to echo in the room as she dived right back in.

The room being filled with Y/n cursing, panting, moaning, and lewd Emily's that slipped from her mouth. It had to be a crime how good she was.

"Mm..fuck Emily," her name came out broken on Y/n's tongue. Her head rolling into the comforter under her. Emily swirled around her clit, moving so smoothly.

The tightening in her stomach grew suddenly. But right as she thought she would find a release, Emily wasn't working her magic anymore. Instead, she watched as Y/n clenched around nothing before meeting her eyes. "I told you. And with how addicting you are bunny? God we're gonna have a fun time," she smirked. Her hands massaging at the pillowy thighs. "You're beautiful you know that? Anybody would be lucky to have you."

Her hands slid up to her waist. Squeezing it in her hands and humming. "You look amazing in everything as well. It would take an entire country to make you look bad. But even then, you'd still be the most beautiful." She kissed all over her stomach.

Kissing up between her boobs. Where she took notice of how ragged her breathing was. "To be able to share these moments with you, baby. I promise to never let you go. I'll make sure you're safe everyday."

Her lips pressed against her neck. Sinking into the already bruised skin and sucking. Listening to the moan. They drove her into a different dimension, she would swear on that.

Y/n choked on a gasp as two fingers slid into her, catching her once again by surprise. The burn of being stretched was tedious, but it melted into pure pleasure. "You..." she couldn't think as Emily moved her hand. Her mind drawing to a blank as her palm hit her clit as it went.

"Yes baby?"

"You...mmmph...do you mean it?"

"Every word."

Tears pricked in the corner of Y/n's eyes as the feeling drew her close again. She prayed her legs not to give her away, but they work on their own for Emily. It seems all of Y/n worked against her. They began to shake, trying to close around her hand and keep it there, but with Emily in between, it was useless.

"Please," Y/n huffed. Her back arching up off the cover. And when she was just one more thrust away, Emily was gone again. "You so suck." She panted while looking up at the white ceiling.

"Oh, is someone upset they didn't get their way?" Emily faked a pout. Leaning in close and placing a chaste kiss to her lips. "I've told you my plan."

"The working me up?! If that's the case I want to redo my reward." Y/n sat up quickly and crossed her arms.

"Oh yeah?" Emily laughed a bit, "and what is it you want now? Even if you change it all now, you're still all worked up and no release. Now who do you think is gonna give it to you?"

Y/n blinked a few times, really thinking it over. Emily was right. She was worked up twice and knew it wouldn't be the same now that she's had Emily. She pondered a little more before crossing her arms and looking away.

"Are you gonna keep pouting?" Emily tilted her head to the side. Not getting Y/n to look at her. She knew what the other was wanting, it was obvious. "You are one princess you know that?"

Y/n smirked over her shoulder. "I told you I was, remember? Right after you called me a pervert?"

"You gonna hold that over my head?"

"Till you're on your knees begging me, I will sit here and look away." Y/n looked away again. Letting the choice be up to Emily now.

And man did Emily enjoy this more than she thought. The brattiness wasn't over done and Y/n knew what she deserved. She still held more control than she let on. Emily could feel herself give in almost instantly too, but she held down for a few seconds.

Then, she pulled Y/n to the end of the bed and got down in front of her. Hands traveling up her legs and wrapping them around her own head. Emily now sat with her head between Y/n's legs and looking up to her.

She placed caring kisses to the thighs next to her. "Is this better?" Emily glanced through her lashes, meeting the others eyes.

"You're not begging." She had spoke down to her, a devious smirk pulling at her lip. "Why should I let you?"

"That's how you play?" A brief nod. A beat of silence. And a silent sigh of defeat. "Please bunny, I need to taste you again. You've denied me too long. Please, please, please, I need you." Her humorus tone disappears as as she spoke, turning into true desperation as she could smell the effect of her words.

Her hands held her thighs, her grip tightening. Y/n wasn't budging yet. She was holding out on her self just to watch Emily fall apart. "Y/n. Please. I can't wait long. Please."

Y/n gave a look, tilting her nose into the air a bit to look down. Opening her legs to give Emily access and wearing a winning smile. "That's so much better," her tone was cockier than ever. Even her moan as Emily took her first swipe again.

And even for the second time, Y/n still tasted just as addicting. She sounded even angelic with her sinful noises. Everything about her lured Emily further in. Almost loosing herself in the moment. Her mind could think of nothing other than the beauty on the bed.

"God, Y/n...." she hummed lowly. "You're just so delicious. So beautiful. So desirable." Her tongue picked up. Her thoughts of wanting to see the other fall apart becoming heavy. "Just like that baby."

Y/n gasped once more before her breath hitched in her throat. The knot in her stomach snapping without much warning. Her hand flew down to Emily's hair, nails scratching at her scalp as she rode out her high. Profanities running from her like no tomorrow.

Emily once again littered her kisses once more before coming up. Placing a kiss to Y/n's plush lips, but following as it turned into a soft make out.

"Fuck Emily." Y/n laughed. She couldn't help but to think of the moment that just happened. "You definitely had fantasies."

The silver fox shook her head with a smile, laying down and pulling the other into her. "You know how to lure someone in, it's hard not to think of you." She shrugged off her truth. "We still have the rest of the day....can I take you to dinner?"

"Aww, was I not fulfilling for you?" She joked one more time before kissing Emily. "I would very much like dinner with you. But....it looks like I was in a fight and lost..."

Emily sat up and looked down at the other. Scanning over the amount of love bruises that covered her. "That does seem like an issue, you don't have any makeup?" A shake of the head. "Well then I guess we're going on a run to get you makeup and something to cook for the night."

"We're gonna cook? Didn't you almost give someone food poising last time you cooked?" Y/n loved how the idea sounded, she was thrilled. "What'd you have in mind anyways?"

Emily let a nasty smirk take over again, and Y/n could hear the thoughts and laughed. "Something easy. Maybe pasta? Then after....who knows what'll be for desert."

The younger let out another laugh at the implied. "Fine, but I'll make it a deal. We make a video while cooking, and then I'm all yours again. But the video has to get at least 100 likes by the time we finish."

"And if it doesn't?"

Y/n let her smile grow even more, "then you get nothing."

"What?!"

A shrug was her answer, "I don't make the rules." She sighed, glancing to her bathroom. "I could go for a shower, couldn't you?"

Emily looked over to the bathroom as well, taking a second to process what was being implied. "I could, I really could!" The thought to see the woman in her arm dripping with water and soap worked her up all over again.

~

Monday had came again, and the team was back in the bullpen. Enjoying the paper work to the best they could.

Penelope however was walking at a dramatic pace to find Y/n. Eager to know about this weekend that was all over TikTok now. And she came in hot with her phone already being opened. "Y/n! Care to explain?" She shoved the phone in.

Y/n watched the cooking video, smiling at the time they had. "We spent our Saturday together. And maybe our Sunday too but that's all."

Tara laughed enough to let everyone know she was listening. "Cooking doesn't leave a mark on your neck though." She pointed out the hickey right below her ear.

The side eye she received was vicious, "I burnt myself curling my hair."

"Yeah ok," Emily walked in with a knowing smile.

Tara leaned over to JJ, "bet the curling iron was that Prentiss brand."

"All the way up to it seems," the blonde fed the joke. "And what did you cook?"

Y/n sighed, feigning hurt," you don't even follow my account? You've made like a gazillion appearances."

JJ shook her head, "I don't have TikTok. But let me guess, there was a deal within that video that only you two know about?"

Emily came back with her coffee in hand, and another for Y/n. "She didn't win."

Penelope had been standing there shock about how simple they made it seem. "So! What I'm getting is! You two?"

Emily and Y/n shared a secret conversation. Both letting an infectious smile appear, "yeah, us two." They said in union. Too busy getting lost within each other to listen to the blonde jump for joy.