#i didn't think she'd agree to ask

[hallowpen]

I was talking about GMMtv's Yfind in the GC and I thought it'd be relevant to anyone who is interested in my opinion hehe I've been raised to be curious in nature (blame my mother for that one 😜😜😜) so I'm going to be following up on this with the resources I have available to me...

Stay tuned, I guess...

[winepresswrath]

I think I would need to reread the first book to really commit to this opinion but imo some of the horror of book!claudia is that she really is a terribly inhuman monster. she was a vampire child, so she never learned to be human. she was a vampire child so she'll never grow up and fulfill that potential. companionship is a necessity for her because she can't look after herself and that makes her bitter and disdainful of people who want love for its own sake, especially in the context of Louis and Lestat, who damned her to her current state to fulfill their own emotional needs. it's a stark contrast to show Claudia, who yes, is a vicious mass murdering vampire and has fun with it, but is otherwise a lonely woman who craves companionship and understanding because she's a person. Her beef with Louis is still about his failure to prioritize her and his assorted bad idea relationship choices but the undertones are so different and I really feel like the tragedy is that he didn't put her first and not that he could never have made her happy no matter what he chose.

[fictionadventurer]

I know it's not technically a fairy tale, but do you happen to have any recs for retellings of Tam Lin?

--Siena

Unfortunately, no, since I haven't read any. However, I've heard good things about The Perilous Gard, which I believe draws from that fairy tale.

[boyapologist]

I think me going back to the dnp fandom and getting back with my ex best friend would be the weirdest 2023 outcome possible

[problemswithbooks]

According to the anime Endeavor was raping for a long time and Horikoshi retroactively asked them to make ot clear it wasn't an arranged marriage situation at all so those intrpretation of manga are now correct

So, a couple of things...

I'd sort of like some more proof to the claim Hori directly asked the Anime team to change things for the episode to better get across what he wanted to say in the Manga. I, personally, haven't watched the anime in a long while so I haven't seen the episode in question, but I have heard it changed some framing around and painted Endeavor in a worse light (though some people don't see much difference so it's hard to say whose right or if it's just a matter of interpretation). But either way I find it hard to believe Hori personally reached out the Anime Team so they would change things. Mostly because there have been huge deviations from the Manga that I doubt Hori would have approved of or asked for if he was this close to Anime creators. Namely how much of Spinner's stuff was cut during the MVA arc. Most of the time Manga Artists aren't really involved in the Anime process so it'd be weird if suddenly, just for this episode both sides got in contact and changed things up for the Anime based on Hori's wishes. So, I'd have to have a statement from Hori himself saying he went to the Team and they changed things up because of his own demands to believe this is what happened.

It doesn't matter if it was an arranged marriage or not, Enji could have been raping Rei anyway. An arranged marriage isn't special protection against rape.

From what I heard it is still an arranged marriage, it's just that more emphasis is put on that fact it's also a Quick marriage--but we already knew this. And to be honest a Quirk marriage can just be a type of arranged marriage. All an arranged marriage is, is a marriage that agreed on by the families or gaudiness of the couple rather than the couple itself. Enji's parents are seemingly dead so helped set it up, but because it still goes through Rei's parents it would count as an arranged marriage.

I think it's kind of dumb to have the question of rape be brought up again when it will inevitably go no where. It was always going to be a grey area where in the very least Natsuo and Shoto's conceptions were dubious consent, but I rather it not be confirmed as straight up rape because we already know it's not actually going to matter much. Enji is on some sort of atonement/redemption arc, yet the bulk of it is centered around his relationship to his kids (namely Shoto and Touya) not how he treated Rei. He is constantly punished for his choices with his kids, not his wife. Yes, the manga makes it clear he was a bad husband but little emphasis is put on him earning forgiveness from Rei. He might do considerate stuff for her like the flowers or the new house but they're treated as side things to bolster the idea he's changing. The narrative doesn't ask him to be a better husband it asks him repeatedly to be a better father. So, yeah, I rather it be left up to interpretation rather then be 100% confirmed rape when it's nothing but a background detail used to drive the point home Enji was a really bad guy. It's not needed--he was already bad enough without it and the things he did were better addressed by the plot. Him raping Rei isn't. It's not ever brought up again, not even by Rei. Which last time I checked, most people agreed adding Rape for shock value was in the very least in poor taste.

[halfmoonaria]

unanswered

pairing: tara carpenter and reader

summary: you break the cycle of being the second choice.

wordcount: 3.1k

tara <3 (10:27pm)

i miss you.

can you come over?

sam's not home.

You stared at the messages for a moment, a mix of emotions churning in your chest.

It wasn't the first time Tara had texted you like this—far from it.

Every couple of weeks, when the night stretched out too long and too quiet, she reached out to you. It had become a pattern, one you were all too familiar with.

You knew why she was texting.

It wasn't because she was lonely, at least not in the way you wished she was.

Tara was thinking about Amber.

Amber, who had her wrapped around her finger. You knew how Tara saw her, like she was something special, someone Tara wanted more than anything.

But Amber. Amber only wanted Tara when it suited her, when she needed someone to make her feel powerful, desired.

When Amber wasn't around, Tara turned to you. You were the one who picked up the pieces, who made her feel wanted when Amber didn't care to.

You knew it wasn't about love, not for Tara—not like you wanted it to be. It was about comfort, about filling the void Amber left behind when she was off doing her own thing.

But every time Tara texted, asking you to come over, you went.

You told yourself you'd resist, that this time you wouldn't give in, but the moment you saw her name on your screen, all your resolve crumbled.

Because for those few hours, you got to be the one she wanted, the one she needed, even if it was just physical. Even if it wasn't enough.

You typed out a quick reply, agreeing to come over, even though you knew how it would end. You would be there for her that night, but tomorrow or the next day, Amber would come back, and you would be forgotten, left waiting for the next time Tara needed you.

As you headed to her place, you thought about how it would go.

She would open the door, looking relieved, like she had been waiting for you. You would follow her inside, and before long, she'd be pulling you close, her hands desperate, her lips searching.

And you'd give in, just like you always did, because in those moments, it almost felt like she wanted you, like she needed you.

But in the back of your mind, you knew the truth. You weren't her first choice—Amber was.

You were the one she turned to when Amber wasn't there, when she needed someone, anyone, to fill the space Amber left behind.

And when Amber did want Tara, everything changed.

The texts stopped coming. You sent her messages, trying to check in, to see how she was doing, but they went unanswered.

It was like you didn't exist. Tara disappeared into Amber's world, wrapped up in her like nothing else mattered.

And when you finally did hear from her, it was a curt response, a text saying she wasn't ready for a relationship, that inviting you over had been a mistake. The words stung, even though you had heard them before.

Then the next day, you saw them at school, Tara and Amber, tangled together like they were the only people in the world.

Amber's arm was slung around Tara's shoulders, and Tara was laughing, looking at Amber like she was the only one that mattered.

You watched from a distance, that familiar ache gnawing at your insides, knowing that you were just caught in a loop—a constant cycle that never seemed to end.

You told yourself you'd stop. That the next time Tara reached out, you wouldn't go. But you knew the truth. You'd go, every time, because for those few hours, she was yours, even if it was all a lie.

And maybe, just maybe, you'd let yourself believe that this time, things would be different.

————

It wasn't different.

After leaving Tara's place, you had gone home late at night, slipping out quietly once she had fallen asleep.

The routine was almost ritualistic, carved into your brain. Waiting until the room was silent, then making your way back into the solitude of your own space.

Sleep had been elusive, haunted by the warmth of her presence and the cold reality of your situation.

The night before had been a predictable spiral of emotions. Amber had been ignoring Tara's messages for three long days. Tara had tried repeatedly to reach out, her texts becoming increasingly desperate and tinged with frustration.

Amber's silence had left her feeling raw and abandoned. The usual pattern of their volatile relationship had taken its toll on Tara.

When Tara reached out to you, she had come to you with that familiar blend of vulnerability and need.

It had begun with her confiding in you about Amber's absence, her frustration palpable.

She had spoken of feeling neglected and unwanted, her words mingling with tears as she expressed how Amber's disregard had left her feeling empty.

As the evening wore on, her need for reassurance had grown more intense.

Tara had sought out your touch as if trying to fill the void left by Amber's absence. Her need for physical closeness was almost desperate, driven by the emotional turmoil she was experiencing.

But even as you gave her what she asked for, you knew it was a temporary fix. You were there to soothe the pain and fulfill her need for affection, but you weren't the one she truly wanted.

The next morning, you found yourself at school, moving through the halls with heavy steps, lack of sleep and with that same old sense of anticipation mixed with dread.

You kept checking your phone, hoping for a message from Tara—a simple acknowledgment of what you shared the night before, anything to suggest that she felt something more.

But the screen remained dark, and with each passing hour, the silence grew louder, echoing the realization that you were still just a momentary distraction in her life.

During a break between classes, you walked through the corridor, your mind preoccupied.

That's when you saw them.

Tara and Amber.

They stood by the lockers. Tara was laughing, her face lit with a joy you hadn't seen since the last time Amber had returned.

And then there was Amber, her arm casually slung around Tara, claiming her with the ease of someone who knew they were wanted.

As you walked past, Tara's eyes caught yours for the briefest of moments.

There was something in her expression—an almost imperceptible flicker of guilt or perhaps regret—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

She looked away, her attention snapping back to Amber, who seemed completely unaware of the tension that had passed between you.

It stung. The way she could so easily disconnect from what had happened between you, the way she could just switch off her emotions and return to Amber as if nothing had changed.

You tried to push the feeling aside, to focus on your classes, but it lingered, a bitter reminder that, no matter how much you wanted things to be different, they never would be.

As the day wore on, you sent another text to Tara, hoping for some form of acknowledgment or a sign that things might be different.

When school ended and you headed home, the ache of being a second choice weighed on you.

The cycle was all too familiar: Tara's need for you when Amber wasn't available, and the emptiness that followed when Amber reappeared.

Each time you allowed yourself to hope for something more, you were met with the same cycle of anticipation and disappointment.

In the quiet of your room, you found yourself once again waiting for the next time Tara might reach out, even though you knew how it would end.

The hope that things might change felt increasingly fragile.

As night fell, the familiar loneliness crept in, settling in the pit of your stomach. You couldn't shake the memory of her touch, the way she had clung to you just hours before.

The emptiness of your room felt suffocating, amplifying the silence that had stretched on throughout the day.

You reached for your phone, staring at the screen, battling with yourself.

You knew you shouldn't reach out, knew it would only lead to more heartache. But the need for some kind of connection, any connection, gnawed at you. The words you wanted to say swirled in your mind—questions, reassurances, anything to pull her back toward you, even for just a moment.

Finally, you gave in, typing out something that almost seemed too desperate, even for you.

i don't want to bother you, but i just dont get why u can't answer.

Your thumb hovered over the send button, hesitating for a moment, knowing that sending it might only lead to more disappointment.

But the need for her to acknowledge you, even in the smallest way, was too strong to resist. You hit send, the message slipping into the void, joining the countless others that had been left unaddressed.

You scrolled to the last message you'd sent earlier.

i miss you. can we talk?

It still sat there, unanswered, just like so many others.

Then, the waiting began—each passing minute feeling like an eternity as you stared at your phone, hoping for the familiar buzz that would signal a reply.

The hope that she might respond, that things might be different this time, felt fragile, like it could shatter at any moment. But still, you clung to it, knowing that even the smallest sign from her would be enough to keep you holding on.

A few hours later, just as you were beginning to lose hope, your phone buzzed in your hand.

Your heart leapt, but the anticipation quickly turned to dread as you read Tara's reply.

tara <3 (11:49pm)

can you stop? i don't want to do this anymore. i don't want anything to do with you.

You stared at Tara's message, trying to process the harshness of her words.

They were unlike anything she had sent before—usually, it was as simple as her saying she wasnt ready for a relationship, or an apologetic excuse.

But tonight, her response was stark and final, a sharp difference to the usual uncertainty.

The weight of her words settled heavily, and the familiar ache of being a backup choice intensified.

You had been through this cycle countless times: waiting for her, hoping for something more, only to be pushed aside when Amber reappeared.

But this time, something felt different—more definitive, more cutting.

The message wasn't just a dismissal; it felt like a cold rejection, an end to the hope you'd been clinging to.

It stung, more than you wanted to admit, especially because it was a departure from her usual way of handling things.

This wasn't about being unsure or wanting space—it was a clear, unambiguous statement that she didn't want you in her life, at least not right now.

You were tired of the endless cycle, the emotional rollercoaster that left you waiting for her next move, only to be met with the same predictable outcome.

The frustration and hurt mingled with a reluctant clarity. It was time to accept that this wasn't going to change, that hoping for more only led to deeper disappointment.

As you set your phone down, the finality of her words clung to you.

It was a painful realization, but perhaps it was a necessary one.

The time had come to stop being her second choice, to stop waiting for a sign that things might be different.

The message was a harsh reminder that you deserved more than the fragments of attention she had been offering.

____

The following days passed quietly.

Tara didn't reach out—not a single message, not even a glance in the hallways at school.

The silence was new, unsettling in its finality, but surprisingly, you found yourself adjusting quicker than you expected.

Maybe it was because you had set your mind to it, determined to break the cycle that had kept you stuck for so long.

You stayed busy, filling the spaces where your thoughts might have wandered back to her.

It wasn't easy, but it felt different this time—like there was a real shift in the way you handled it. Each day that passed without hearing from her was a small victory, proof that you could move forward, even if it still hurt.

But what struck you the most was the time. It had never passed this long without Tara reaching out to you.

In the past, the silence might last a day or two at most, and then you'd see her name on your phone, pulling you back into the familiar rhythm. But now, the days stretched on, and with each one, the possibility of her return seemed to slip further away.

You couldn't help but wonder if Amber had finally come around, realized her own behavior, and decided to commit to Tara in the way she had always craved.

Maybe that's why Tara hadn't reached out—because this time, Amber wasn't pushing her away. Maybe this time, Amber was staying.

You thought this was the end.

Maybe in a way, you even wanted it to be over.

The endless cycle of being Tara's second choice had drained you, and a clean break, painful as it was, seemed like the only way to move forward. If Amber had finally come through for Tara, then maybe you could let go for good.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

It was late on a Saturday night when your phone buzzed again. At first, you didn't even check it—assuming it was just a notification, something unimportant. But then, another buzz, and the vibration against your nightstand was impossible to ignore.

You glanced over, already knowing who it was before you even saw the name.

Tara.

The message sat there, glowing up from the screen in the dark of your room, cutting through the false sense of peace you'd managed to create. For a moment, you didn't want to open it. You didn't want to see what she had to say, because you knew where it would lead. It was never simple with Tara—it was always a pull, always a need that brought you back, even when you knew better.

But your fingers moved anyway, unlocking the phone and opening the message.

tara (2:03am)

are u awake?

Three simple words, but they were enough to unravel everything.

Enough to remind you that maybe you weren't as far gone from her grasp as you had hoped.

You didn't need to ask. You could already guess the situation.

Amber was probably at some party again, the kind where Tara was never invited, where Amber went alone and never bothered to check if Tara wanted to come along.

You could picture it perfectly—Amber's social media lighting up with photos and stories, flashing images of her having the time of her life, surrounded by people, as if Tara didn't exist.

Tara had always hated that. You knew the jealousy had probably started to build, slowly at first, until it reached a point where Tara couldn't take it anymore, and now she was turning to you.

Again.

It was always the same. Amber made her feel small, invisible, and then Tara reached out to you, seeking comfort and reassurance.

And you'd always been there—like a lifeline she could tug on when the weight of Amber's indifference got too heavy. But this time, something in you snapped. You were tired. Tired of being the backup plan, tired of picking up the pieces whenever Amber shattered her.

You didn't want to do it anymore.

Not this time.

The routine had become suffocating, a weight pressing down on your chest, and every time you gave in, it only added to the ache.

You could feel the familiar pull of her message, but instead of giving in, there was a resistance in you, stronger than before.

This wasn't your mess to clean up anymore. You were tired of being the person Tara came to when things didn't go her way with Amber. Tired of being her second choice, the one she used when her first option failed her.

Your heart sank as you stared at her message, knowing what she wanted, what she was asking for without even having to say it. And for the first time, you realized that you didn't have the energy to give her what she wanted. You didn't have it in you to be that person for her anymore.

You didn't answer.

For the first time, you just let the message sit there, ignored. You couldn't bring yourself to respond. Not this time.

Your phone buzzed again, and then again, as Tara's messages came through in rapid succession, each one more desperate than the last.

i'm sorry.

i didn't mean what i said.

please, i'm so sorry.

i do want you. i swear, i do.

The notifications kept lighting up your screen, each one tugging at that old part of you, the part that always responded, always showed up when she needed you.

But you didn't open them. Not tonight. You stared at her words, feeling a familiar ache in your chest, but this time it was mixed with something else—resolve. You knew what this was. You knew it was the same cycle playing out all over again, and you were tired of it.

She kept sending more messages, fragments of apologies, excuses, trying to pull you back in.

please talk to me.

i miss u.

please don't ignore me

i need you.

But you couldn't do it. Not anymore. You let the phone buzz, let her words pile up without an answer, because this time, you weren't going to be the one who gave in.

The ache in your chest tightened, but this time it wasn't enough. You weren't going to be pulled back into the same pattern. Not again.

You felt your thumb hover over the screen, hesitating for only a moment before tapping to block her number. It wasn't easy, but it felt like the only thing left to do.

The silence that followed was deafening, the buzzing of your phone replaced with an emptiness that was almost worse. Almost.

But there was also a strange sense of relief. It wasn't the closure you wanted, but it was the closure you needed. For the first time, you chose yourself. You chose to let go.

And as the night stretched on, you found a quiet peace in the stillness, knowing that this time;

you wouldn't be waiting for her anymore.

[reiderwriter]

🔫 Oh, Captain, My Captain 🔫

Pairing: Unit Chief!Spencer Reid x Fem BAU!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: Unit Cheif!Spencer who uses gun training as an excuse to rub up on the new member🤭

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Gun kink, dubcon, dry humping, pictures/photos, age gap, Pervert! Spencer, unprotected sex, implied cream pie, semi-public sex, boss x employee dynamic, spanking, masturbation, slight cum play, degradation (slut, whore etc), praise kink if you squint (good girl).

A/N: This is my first entry for the CM Kink Bingo challenge 2024~! I chose a lot of the prompts based on some of the smut requests in my inbox and let my TELL you I was SO EXCITED to write Unit Chief + gun kink!!! I'm so excited for this entire challenge tbh, it reminds me of the good old days on past years' Kinktober 😂🥰

Masterlist || Bingo Board

When Spencer Reid was made the interim Unit Chief for the BAU, he agreed with the reasoning. At the time, he really couldn't argue that he was aptly experienced, responsible enough to make big decisions, and reliable. And whilst he had been through a lot in the last two decades with the FBI, he still did value his own sense of morality. 

He accepted the job and then was assigned you as an intern, and suddenly, he didn't agree with any previous assessment of him. 

Experienced, yes, but he was still stammering and rambling when discussing simple things like the weather. He certainly wasn't responsible enough to keep his eyes off you, and he probably couldn't be relied on in the field to focus instead of thinking about your pretty, plump lips and how they would feel wrapped around his cock. 

All morality had gone out of the window after a week of working with you when he closed his office blinds, popped his pants open and took his cock in hand, relieving himself while staring at your newly printed ID card. 

He had a lot of power, during the few months Emily was away, and he was trying desperately not to use it. 

Unfortunately, with great power comes a great amount of orders to give, and since you reported directly to Unit Chief Reid, you'd become his de facto shadow for the first few weeks. You bought him coffees when you got your own, asked him for quick run downs of past cases so you could take notes and remember relevant details for later, asked him for help writing reports. 

Which caused the blinds to be drawn at least once a day as he desperately tried to keep his hands off you. 

Emily had joked when leaving him behind that she'd usually give the new boss the “don't shit where you eat” speech, especially with people in your chain of command, but it really wasn't necessary with him. Of all people. 

It didn't help that you were so damn clumsy in the office. You were usually pretty calm and collected, but since starting at the BAU, the pressure was getting to you a bit. 

You made small mistakes, you double, and triple checked your work, and you were constantly in Spencer's office asking him for opinions on topics, for background information, and for, well, reassurance. 

And you dropped stuff. A lot of stuff. 

Your analytical Monday have been perfectly suited to the BAU, but somewhere between your head and your hands, all your body parts refused to function adeptly. You'd dropped things constantly, tripped on your own feet, and constantly bumped into people even while they stood still. 

Not to mention the time your dropped your (thankfully, iced) coffee all over Spencer's lap when you'd brought him his own. 

“Oh my- Oh my god, Doctor Reid, I am so so sorry,” you scrambled, immediately grabbing tissues as he jumped up from the desk. 

“Please let me help you, god, I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry-” you said, patting away as his lap as he stood frozen in front of you. You dropped to your knees to mop up the traces of coffee still running down his thighs, as he stammered. 

“Y/N, please, you don't need to, I have a spare pair I can-” 

“I'll have them dry cleaned, I promise,” you begged, just as a knock sounded and the door to his office swung back open for JJ to enter through. 

“Spencer, the files for the- woah! Okay, I'm not jumping to conclusions, but I'm still backing out of this room right now.” 

She laughed her way out of the room, which was when your brain finally caught up to your hands and realized the stupid position you'd put yourself in. 

You'd practically pushed your boss up against the wall, kneeled before him, and begged to touch him. 

You'd squeaked out an apology and quickly left the office, much to Spencer's relief, because even after an ice bath and semi-public humiliation, he was hard and horny and his IQ had been knocked to roughly 7. 

How he'd wanted to keep you pinned in place, to stroke your cheek as he made sure you took each inch of him down your throat slowly, filling you up so you couldn't escape. 

How he'd wanted to keep his job as well, something he'd probably not get to do if JJ had decided to walk back in, or - god forbid - bring other witnesses to his debauchery. 

You were clumsy, and he was desperately horny, and you were both complete and total messes.

“I don't see how I can help you, Y/N,” Tara held up her hands in defeat as you begged for her help. 

“I'm competent with a gun, but it's not something I can teach you. I wouldn't know where to start.” 

“I just need someone to show me how to hold it properly. There's a trick to it, right? There has to be a trick to it?” 

“Ah yes, the old aim and shoot trick, I forgot about that one,” Rossi laughed, shaking his head at your office antics. 

You'd been interning for a few weeks, and the latest in a line of ability tests was shooting. You'd pretty much aced the physical fitness test, but you'd never even held a gun before joining the FBI, and you were struggling. 

“I've put in 10 hours at the shooting range in the last week, and the closest I've got to an accurate shot was hitting the next lane's paper. Don't ask.”

Your coworkers shared a sympathetic look as you sat down at the round table, ready to hear the next case details. 

“I'm relegated to office work until I pass this certificate, and I was not made for sitting at a desk for 7 hours.” 

“Well, why don't you ask Reid for help?” JJ said helpfully, bringing her coffee to her lips to hide the meddling smile plastered there. 

“Reid?” 

“He had some issues shooting when he was a rookie as well, but he put in some hours at the range, and now he's the best shot on the team.” 

“Easy there, blondie, I'm nothing to sniff at with a gun myself,” Rossi smiled, patting himself on the back. 

“I'm sure he'd enjoy helping you,” JJ continued. 

“Who would enjoy what?” Spencer said, finally joining the team in the meeting room and pulling out the case files as everyone opened up their tablets. 

“Y/N was just saying she's having some trouble shooting, and I suggested she ask for your help?” 

He froze momentarily and stared down at you as you looked up at him, hopefully, a shy smile on your face. 

He tried to keep his eyes on yours, but from this height, he had the perfect view down your shirt, your perfect-sized breasts pressing together as you leaned towards him, giving him a generous eyeful. 

He looked away quickly and nodded his agreement, sitting himself down and attaching his eyes to the files instead so he could get his mind off of  your body, and your lips, and the begging that surely would've come out of your mouth had he not accepted earlier. His brain was tormenting him with images of you underneath him, under his desk even, his cock in your mouth as you paid for his precious time training you. He blinked away the thoughts and, for once in his life, actually had to put effort into reading and understanding each word on a page as he ignored the raging fire of his lust. 

A few hours later, the two of you were at the shooting range. 

“My main problem is shooting. The instructors said my form isn't great either and that I looked like a child playing with toys whenever I hold a gun, so if you could help with that…?” You said, putting on the goggles and turning back to look at your boss. 

“Doctor Reid?” You asked. 

“Oh, yeah. Yes, they said something similar when I was training. First, let's see what you can do.” 

You smiled at him as he watched you bounce up to the lane and pick up the gun. You calmed your breathing and got ready to take the safety off when you felt a hard hand clamp over your own and pull the gun from your hand. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, staring down at you with wide eyes. 

“You said to show you-”

“You're not wearing a vest.” 

You cursed quickly as he pulled you back over to the side of the room. The place was practically deserted, as it was past the official closing hours of the range, but Spencer had been forced to pull some strings with his new title and had managed to keep it open (and somehow unmanned) until now. 

He quickly grabbed the first vest he saw and pulled it over your head, taking the side straps and tightening them until the vest was comfortably protecting all your major organs. His hands lingered for a second, and you stared shocked up at him, somehow enjoying the way he pushed you around. 

You were a grown woman, and you could do this all by yourself, but there was something about a man roughly a decade and a half older than you controlling your movements that were entirely too dangerous. You quickly stepped away and back to the podium, whispering a quick thanks under your breath as you tried to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. 

You stretched out your neck a little as you felt him walk back behind you again, keeping his distance as he watched you shoot your first clip at the targets. 

Out of six bullets, you'd missed the target five times and had grazed just below the targets arm once, a brilliant display of your natural lack of talent. 

“Your form is wrong. You're holding yourself too rigid, which means the recoil has a higher chance to hurt you. Loosen your arms slightly.”

His advice was actually good  and you followed his instructions closely, listening clearly as he walked you through each tip. 

“Like this?” 

“A little more… here, let me.” 

You had no chance to react before his body was pressed behind yours and his hands were wrapped around your own, moving g each finger by a fraction to improve your grip, trailing up your arms slowly, leaving a field of goosebumps wherever his fingers grazed. He repositioned your elbows before moving forward his hands down to your hips, turning them slightly as he widened your stance. 

“Try now.” 

Breathless, you could only nod as he stepped back, unaware if he'd even said anything since his hands had landed on you. 

You forced yourself to breathe again and took one shot.

"Oh my god, it hit. Spencer, it hit!” 

“Do it again and we can celebrate.” 

Another five shots later, and you'd managed a small cluster of hits around the arms and one shot. 

“You're definitely veering left, so let's try and over correct by aiming to the right.”

He pushed up against you again and held the gun, moving it to the right a fraction, taking complete control of your body. 

If your breath was scarce before, it was totally gone now as you felt his crotch press up against your ass. Considering the bulletproof vests put an extra inch around your chests, he was absolutely doing it on purpose, and you were shocked to realize you were too. 

You'd pushed your ass back into him, grinding slowly on his hardening cock as he hooked his head over your shoulder, looked down the sight with you, and fired the gun. 

Straight into the center of the target. 

“Good girl,” he whispered before pulling away.  

He moved two meters away from you, and maintained the distance for the rest of the night, and even though you were both aware of his hard cock tightening his pants, neither of you said a word. 

“Same time tomorrow,” he said and grabbed his jacket to leave. It was the first thing he'd said as your Unit Chief that even vaguely sounded like a command and not an enthusiastic suggestion, and you were suddenly very excited for the rest of the week. 

“Before we start,” he said the next day, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling them up to his elbows neatly. “Show me your posture again.” 

He gestured towards one of the dummy guns at the side of the range, the style you recognised from mission training that held small layers instead of bullets - same weight, same mechanism, no lethality. 

You'd spent the day and night worked up from the last time you'd been here with him, and a small part of you felt disappointed you were starting with the kiddy gun. Not one to miss an opportunity, though. You bent over to pick it up, making sure to bend at the waist right in front of him to show off your ass. 

Maybe you'd gone crazy, but the memory of his touch was burning you from the inside out and you needed to feel it again to make sure you weren't crazy. 

He maintained his distance, though. It was hard for him to keep his hands off you in all honesty, arms crossed to keep himself from crossing any more lines. That and he was sure that you'd be able to tell he'd spurted cum all over them in his office the night before despite him scrubbing them thoroughly multiple times, the weight of his guilt eating into him like a parasite.

“Arms up, point straight. Good.” You tried to keep still as he assessed your form, but his eyes prowled over you thoroughly, and you had to suppress a shudder. 

“You need to control your breathing, Y/N, you can't be afraid of pulling the trigger if you need to.” 

“I'm not-” 

“Shoulders back,” he said, moving to your side as he again began slightly correcting your form. 

Unlike the day before, though, this time, there were no bullets. And no bullets meant no bulletproof vest. 

That's why when his exploring hands came to your chest, he could feel your hardening nipples through the flimsy material of your dress. He could feel you pressing forward into his touch as his hands cupped your breast.

“Calm your heartbeat, Y/N. You need to stay calm so you can shoot straight, right?” 

The words sounded alien, even to him. His gaze was locked on the top of your shirt, looking down it to the slope of your chest, disappearing into your dress. He so wanted to let his hands disappear right along with them, to pull you back into his aching cock and play with your nipples until you cried out for mercy. 

He let his touch fall and played off his molestation as correction, even as your underwear grew slick with desire. 

“Grab your vest. Let's try again.” 

A week of late night training later, and you weren't sure if you were improving at all. The guns were the last thing on your mind when Spencer's hands were on you, his voice in your ear telling you how good you were for him, such a good subordinate. 

Both of you had yet to acknowledge that you were spending the majority of the session just rubbing up on each other, like teens at prom, desperate for whatever friction you could get without having to name the game you were playing. 

“Doctor Reid, if I hit the target this time, can you do something for me?” You chanced on the Friday, needing something else to tide you over for the weekend. 

“What do you need?” 

“No, no, nothing specific, just like a…a reward?"

He'd done his best to keep his hands off of you, which meant that he'd failed miserably, and he knew exactly what he'd like to treat you to as a reward. Keeping his hands of you in daytime hours had become harder and harder as the week flew by, and he felt like a randy school boy the amount of times he'd needed to excuse himself to either kill his bones or abuse his cock with his hand.

“Oh,” he said, growing quiet. You took his hesitation for rejection, and immediately began to back pedal. 

“Y-You don't have to, sir. It was really quite conceited on my part to demand a reward from y-” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“If you shoot six bullets that hit either the chest or the head, you'll get a reward.”

You smiled brightly at him, suddenly feeling very hopeful. 

“But if you miss, you'll get the opposite.” 

The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about what they meant. Just hearing the words made him want to visibly cringe and write himself up for office misconduct. But your smile didn't fade one bit. 

“Yes, sir. I won't let you down.” 

Turning away from him, you loaded your weapon again, and he watched you put yourself into the correct position. Despite his middling efforts to actually teach you, you had seemed to have improved over the last few days. 

He wasn't sure if he wanted that outcome. 

Just as you stepped up to take your first shot, he stepped closer to you, wrapped his hands around your waist, and pushed up against you. 

Your first shot veered left, completely missing the target as you gasped. Spencer had popped open the front button of your pants and was unzipping them, letting his hand wonder down to your panties. 

“Look straight. There will be distractions out in the field, you can do this, right?” 

“Y-Yes, sir.” 

“Good girl.” 

You tried to steady your breathing g and your hands again as he began rubbing slow circles into your underwear, your body alight with lust as you let him. 

Your second shot hit the paper. Your third didn't. 

“You can do better than that, Y/N.” 

You took another deep breath and picked up your gun again, shooting just as he shoved your underwear to one side and dipped his fingers into you. 

Your mouth opened in a silent moan as you quickly shot your last three bullets, not caring where they went so much as where his fingers went. 

“Y/N, I expected better,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he took the gun from your hands with his spare. “You can't even handle a weapon like this.” 

He kept his fingers pumping shallowly inside you, as he inspected the gun again. 

“Maybe you'd learn better under duress. I did, too. It's easy to learn when there's a gun pointed yo your head, right?” 

He quickly turned the gun on you  pushing it to your temple as his other hand shoved your pants down. He angled you forward with a press of his hips as his fingers returned to your cunt and slipped deeper inside. 

“S-Spencer, fuck-” 

“You missed all six bullets, so punishment it is.” His fingers gained speed as you stood, flushed and spreading your legs for him. You wanted to bury your head in your arms and scream out your moans, but the gun to your head kept you quiet and in place. 

“You may not be able to shoot a gun, Y/N, but that doesn't mean you're not enjoying them. You're so wet for me.” 

Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt your climax build and build, chasing the high you'd been searching for with every unprotected touch. 

You were letting your boss touch you, letting a man almost old enough to be your father hold a gun to your head, and you were going to squirt all over his fingers very soon. 

“Spencer, Spencer, please- please….”

“Shhh, it’s okay. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You just needed some more help learning. You can cum now, princess. It's okay, let go.” 

You tried your best to hold back, but your body had a mind of its own as your orgasm hit you, the cold metal of the gun finally moving away from your head. 

With one hand around your waist, pinning you to the side so you stayed upright, Spencer carefully placed the gun back down before dragging your pants back up your legs. 

Taking your elbow in his hand, he walked you to the door as you blinked out the daze in your eyes. 

“We're going to my office now. To talk about your recent performance.” 

You couldn't have cared less what he'd said as long as his hands were on you, stretching your head back so it rested on his chest and pushing up until your lips could connect with the bare skin at his neck. 

“Hands off. We're going to walk all the way back to my office, and you're not going to let anyone know what just happened, okay? Not with your words, or your expressions or body language, okay?” 

You nodded, but he kept a hand on your elbow, gesturing yourself forward. 

You weren't sure how you were even able to walk after what had to have been the most intense orgasm of your life, but the promise of more likely carried you all the way up the stairs until you were comfortably enclosed in Spencer's  office. 

Like he'd found himself doing multiple times a day this month, Spencer closed the blinds, pulling you down to the sofa with him as he sat. 

“When I was your age,” he started, making sure your ass was facing up as he pushed your head into the cushions gently. 

“When I was your age, I couldn't shoot well. My Unit Chief had to kick some sense into me. I think you need that as well, right, Y/N? You need someone to beat some sense into you?” 

You nodded as he stroked your hair, and he thanked you for being so open to him. 

He made quick work of your pants and underwear, and in a quick hot burst, his hand came down on your ass. 

“Fuck, more. Please more!” 

He did it again and again as you squirmed in his lap and moaned, begging him to keep brutalizing you. 

“That's it, show me how pathetic you are, show me how much you're craving my attention.” 

He pushed your legs off of his lap until you were kneeling on the floor underneath him. He pulled up your arms and pulled your shirt over your head, similarly discarding your tank top and bra until you were totally bare on the floor in front of him. 

Instead of stripping himself yet, he pulled out his phone, palming himself through his pants. 

“Show yourself off,” he said, pointing the camera at you. 

You followed his directions quickly, hands flying to your tits to fondle them while he took pictures of your fucked our face. 

With his foot he gently nudged you down onto all yours, letting you know to turn around so he could flash a picture or two of your sloppy cunt as well. 

Your hips rocked back and forth in the air, unconsciously searching for something to rub against, some relief from your frustrations. 

He kept snapping pictures. 

Deciding that you needed his attention and stat, you let your chest fall to the floor, face flat too as your hips lifted higher in the air. Your hands found your ass cheeks, and you spread them slightly, giving Spencer an even better view of how much you needed him. 

He took one last photo, and then he knelt behind you faster than you could expect. 

In a heartbeat, his pants were down, in two his cock was buried deep inside of you. 

“So…tight, shit. You're such a precious little slut, you kept this little pussy nice and fresh just for me, right?” 

It was all you could do not to cum right there, and when he started moving you were a goner. It had always been easier for you to cum a second time than it was for you to cum a first time, and considering how quick he'd made it happen earlier, you really should've been expecting it. 

Your body convulsed around his cock as you screamed into the floor, hands still spreading yourself wide for him as he rutted into you. 

“That's it, milk my cock, Y/N. Milk your bosses cock, let me blow my load inside you.” 

Your nipples rubbed painfully against the carpet, only adding to the storm of stimulation you were experiencing. 

His hips faltered as he collapsed over your body, holding tight as his muscles locked him into place with his orgasm. He came inside you with a grunt, and he felt your cunt still clenching around him, making sure to take every last drop. 

“That- was much - preferable,” you said, gasping for breath. “To shooting - any gun.” 

He rolled off of you as you laughed, body satiated now for the first time in what felt like forever. 

“You still need to work on your gun skills,” he said after you'd detangled yourself, but before either if you had worked up the courage to leave the floor and get dressed. 

“Why?” You said, turning your head to look at him  lying on the floor next to you. 

“It seems I can fire pretty accurately already,” you said, as your hand snaked down to his cock one more time. 

[mapis-putellas]

𝑫𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔

Pairing: Alexia putellas x reader

Words: 2264

Warnings: alcohol

Summary: You’re drunk, and therefore very curious as to whether or not Alexia would still love you if you were a worm.

[prompt list]

"Amor? I have ordered dinner. Is there-" Alexia cuts herself off mid sentence as she pauses in the threshold of the living room, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. You were standing just by the front door tucking your keys into the small purse you had hooked over your shoulder, dressed in a way that suggests it was evident you were heading out and not ready for the movie night Alexia had been planning.

"Where are you going?" She asks, lips slipping into a small frown.

You look up at the sound of her voice, your lips quirking up into a small smile as you walk over to her. "Out with Mapi, remember? I told you when you got home." You reach to take the hands she'd folded against her chest.

Alexia frowns, momentarily thinking back to when she'd gotten home a little over an hour ago before adamantly shaking her head. "No, you didn't." She insists.

"Baby, I did. I promise," you laugh softly, knowing just how scatterbrained she sometimes got after a long day of training and media duties. "Mapi and I have had this planned for a few weeks. Drinks and dinner. You were invited too but you said no." You attempt to jog her memory.

Alexia desperately wracks her mind in hopes to remember said conversation she can't remember taking place, but inevitably she comes up empty.

"You don't remember, do you?" You tease softy, letting go of one of her hands and playfully poking her nose, Alexia batting away your hand away with a quiet huff.

"No." She grumbles, her lips forming a pout that you were quick to kiss away. Her arms circle your shoulders, your own looping around her waist and squeezing softly in return.

"How long will you be?" She murmurs, the tips of her fingers trailing through the ends of your hair.

You purse your lips for a second in thought. "I'm not sure babe," you shrug. "A few hours? Maybe more?"

With Mapi in charge of drinks, it was highly likely you'll be out till at least midnight. When you say that girl could drink, you mean it with everything in you.

Alexia nods with a soft exhale. "Vale. I will save you dinner. Just in case." She murmurs, both looking and sounding a little disappointed over the fact you wouldn't be staying in with her.

Truth be told, you were too, though probably not as much.

Of course you absolutely adored Alexia, and given the chance you would spend every single night and day with her for the rest of your life. But Mapi was your best friend. Your best friend who you hadn't hung out with in months and had already rejected numerous invitations from before agreeing to this one a few weeks ago, so it would be extremely unfair to cancel on her now, and plus, you had been looking forward to it.

"You can come with us, you know." You say as you play idly with the waistband of her sweats, not wanting her to feel left out.

Alexia scrunches up her nose before shaking her head, the very answer you'd expected. She never liked to drink during the season, and when forced out with her team for celebrations, she would always stick to water. No matter how much Mapi tries and convinces her otherwise.

"No, amor. It is okay. I will stay here. Watch a game, maybe." She murmurs as she cups your cheeks, trailing her thumbs over the soft skin just briefly before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Are you sure?" You ask as she pulls away, tilting your head to the side.

Alexia smiles. "Sí. I am sure. I will see you later, vale? Be safe."

You lean up on your tiptoes and peck her lips before pulling away and making your way over to the front door. "I will. Promise. I love you." You smile.

"Te amo, bebé."

Alexia watches you go before collapsing onto the couch with a quiet sigh. She felt pathetic for missing you already, having every intention prior to spending the night with you curled up on this very couch.

It was just one night, she reminds herself. Get over it.

*

It was way past midnight when Alexia finally hears the front door open and close, the muffled voices of you and Mapi filling her ears as she pulls out her headphones and sets both them and her phone onto her nightstand.

"Amor?" Alexia calls as she slides out of bed, crossing her bare arms against her chest as she makes her way out of the room. She finds you both still in the entryway of your shared apartment, talking loudly between yourselves as you lean on one another to futilely attempt to kick off your shoes. Neither one of you were particularly successful.

"Amor?" She tries again.

Your head whips round at the sound of her voice, eyes lighting up as you stumble over to her and all but throw your arms around her shoulders. Alexia catches you with no more than a soft grunt as your chest collides none too gently with her own, her arms instinctively looping around your waist.

"Hi baby, I missed you!" You slur, lips upturned into a crooked grin as you stare up at her. Alexia can't help but smile back as she loosely tucks a damp strand of hair out of your face.

"I missed you too bebé. Did you have fun?" She questions, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from you. Her eyes seem to instinctively flicker over to Mapi as you ramble animatedly about your night, the Spaniard still struggling to kick off her shoes as she stumbles and lets out quiet curses beneath her breath.

"-so much fun!" You finish off your drunk ramble as your head flops dramatically against her chest, Alexia humming response as she leans forward and brushes her lips against your forehead in a gentle kiss.

"Oh!" You cry suddenly as you whip your head up from her chest, Alexia's eyes widening in surprise as she stares down at you. You let out a quiet hiccup as you pat her face softly, Alexia grimacing subtly at the clamminess of your fingers.

"Mapi is sleeping here." You tell her 'sternly'.

Alexia's eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Mapi has her own house, no?"

"Yes but-" you hiccup. "But we want a sleepover, and Ingrid isn't home."

Alexia goes to speak again, but was promptly cut off by Mapi who now successfully had her shoes off and was stumbling to her feet.

"Sleepover!" She suddenly yells, Alexia visibly startling at the sound is she glances between the two of you unsurely.

"Sleepover!" You mimic, yanking yourself out of Alexia's hold. The blonde tries not to pout at the loss as she instinctively crosses her arms against her chest.

"Sleepover?" She repeats unsurely.

"Mhhh," you nod, sounding determined. "I am sleeping in bed with Mapi." 

"Qué?" Alexia frowns. You were choosing to sleep in bed with Mapi as opposed to her?

"Me and-" another hiccup. "Me and Mapi are going to have a sleepover, together."

Alexia's eyebrows furrow. "Why?"

"Because she'll be lonely by herself." You say, sounding genuinely annoyed that she didn't already know the answer to your question. It makes Alexia pause unsurely before she dares to speak again.

"But then I will be lonely." She futilely attempts to convince.

"It is-" you hiccup. "okay." You attempt to reassure though Alexia didn't find much comfort in your words.

She knows it wasn't rational to argue with you when you were the drunk. You were stubborn. So much so it was sometimes concerning. But Alexia had been by herself all night. She'd missed you, more so than she was willing to admit out loud and she couldn't quite find it in her to admit defeat just yet. 

"Please?" She finds herself pleading, sounding so unlike herself it makes her feel sick.

You hesitate, looking visibly unsure on what your next move should be. It was like deep down you knew something was wrong, but you were way too intoxicated to really figure it out.

Eventually, it appears as though your drunkenness wins out anyway, Alexia letting out a quiet exhale as she watches you tighten your grasp around Mapi's hand. "It's just for one night." You slur, sounding more convinced than Alexia feels.

She nods anyway, no longer willing to try and convince you otherwise when it was clear you had already made up your mind. Both you and Mapi soon disappear down the hall and into the guest room, the door slamming behind you a little harder than Alexia deems necessary. Swallowing yet another wince, she heads towards the front door and makes quick work of locking up for the night.

A night alone it was.

*

Alexia has no idea what time it is when the bedroom door of your shared room slowly creaks open, the hallway light shining in and illuminating the left side of the large bed she'd been left to sleep in alone. She sits up on her elbow, lips quirking up into a hopeful smile when she see's you tentatively peek your head through the gap the partially open door had created.

"Ale?" You murmur, not quite sounding fully sober but definitely not as intoxicated as you once had been.

"I'm here." Alexia assures quietly.

You step properly into the room before quietly closing the door behind you. "Mapi snores," you grumble as you stumble over to her and climb into bed, Alexia immediately bombarded by your body collapsing down onto her own forcing her head back onto its pillow. She loosely secures her arms around your waist as you continue talking.

"And she kicks." You nestle your head into her chest, your exhale of content seeping through the material of her shirt and hitting her skin. "You're much more comfortable."

Alexia raises an eyebrow. "I am?" She murmurs into the top of your head, her hand slipping beneath your shirt and resting on the bare skin of your back.

"Mhhh," You murmur, heavy lids fluttering closed. "It's sleepy time now."

"Okay." Alexia accepts with ease. You were still in the shirt you'd gone out in, and it was clear you hadn't brushed your teeth either, but she figures convincing you to get properly ready for bed now would only be pointless considering it appears as though you were only moments away from falling asleep. With the knowledge she had no choice other than to deal with it, she presses one last kiss to the top of your head before allowing her own eyes to close.

"Alexia?" Your quiet voice fills the room just as Alexia was on the brink of sleep.

"Mhh?"

"I love you."

Alexia smiles as she absentmindedly begins trailing the palm of her hand over the length of your back. "I love you too, bebé." She murmurs.

A few moments pass.

“Alexia?"

The blonde just about manages to refrain from groaning. "Sí, mi amor?"

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?" You ask with genuine curiosity.

Alexia's eyes whip open as she lifts her head off of her pillow. "Qué?"

You lift your head up off of her chest. It was too dark to see your face fully, but she could just about make out the outline of your features.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?" You ask again, your voice becoming more insistent.

Alexia groans quietly as she drops her head back onto her pillow. "What does that even mean?" She grumbles, lifting one of her hands to rub at her eye.

"It means," you scoot up her body slightly as you clumsily cup her cheeks. Her lips pucker at the action, and she can't help but smile when you lean in and press a somewhat uncoordinated kiss to them. "If I was a worm, would you still love me?" You repeat yourself for the third time as you pull away.

"Amor, I-"

"Would you?"

"I don't-"

You sit up suddenly, legs straddling her hips as you cross your arms over your chest. "You wouldn't, would you?"

Alexia is baffled at the sudden anger in your voice. She forces herself to sit up too, arms winding around your waist effectively holding your chest flush against her own. "I never said that." She defends herself as she presses her lips against your cheek.

"But you didn't not say that either." You grumble, the pout audible in your words.

Alexia sighs heavily as she glances at the clock. Three thirty in the morning was not the time to be having this conversation.

"Amor, I would love you no matter what." She explains, hoping to end this conversation here so she could finally get some sleep.

Your arms uncross as you lean properly against her and rest your head on her shoulder. "Even if I was  worm?" You ask quietly.

Alexia nods as she cups the back of your head and grazes the pad of her thumb over your scalp, smiling at the deep sigh of content that falls from your lips. "Sí. Even if you were a worm." She placates, and you hum in satisfaction as you clutch tightly to the back of her grey tank top.

"I would love you if you were a worm too." You murmur sleepily, and Alexia huffs out a breath of amusement as she settles back against her pillow. 

"I am glad, amor."

"Alexia?"

Alexia groans. "Bebé, it's late. Go to sleep."

"But I'm hungry!" You complain loudly.

Alexia sighs. Of course you were.

**

Tags:

@girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @marysfics @helen-with-an-a @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @goldenempyrean

[crookedteethed]

18+ slight smut (unprotected piv), sex tapes, mentions of anal, jealous!reader, weirdo behavior

⋆ ★ thinking about how dad!rafe constantly gets hit on by slutty moms and how you have to come in and set them straight : (

Rafe loved his baby girl, but he would bash his fist into the wall if he had to listen to Somewhere Over the Rainbow get played as he watched his little girl prance around in her ballet class one more time. 

Don't get him wrong, Rafe loved spending the daddy-daughter time with his little girl, and it was something (even more) persuasive about your daughter wearing an adorable pink tutu that made him agree to get ice cream after Every. Single. Class.

It was the other parents (and The Best of Oz) who made it so insufferable—not just the other parents—the moms. 

The dads were particularly cool. They typically sat there like Rafe, hunched over into a man's spread, aggressively typing on their phones. 

But the moms--no--the fucking moms always wanted to talk, but not just talk, flirt!

The moms were like cougars, always purposely sitting down next to Rafe, peering over his shoulder, debating whether they should talk to him. 

When they finally do muster enough courage to talk to him (the ones that do), they typically say some dumb shit, like: 

"My heart always goes out to single fathers; it does. I’m single, too. We should grab a drink sometime.”

It was only Cynthia Fucking Allen that asked Rafe dumb shit like this. 

It was dumb because she knew that Rafe wasn't a single father and knew well that you two were happily married. 

The other moms were never as Bold as Cynthia. They typically just tried to talk with Rafe to talk to someone as attractive as he was—which Rafe didn't mind.

Cynthia was a cougar because she didn't fear rejection. She'd never turn down an opportunity to make a pass at Rafe--whether it was inviting him over to dinner or trying to set up "supervised playdates” (which Rafe had always turned her down) or going as far as complimenting his derrière in his khakis.

And though Cynthia's constant badgering was becoming a nuisance to Rafe, Rafe never needed to cut into Cynthia because deep down, Rafe had felt bad for the woman.

Rafe had once heard from you, who heard from one of the other mothers that Mr. Allen, Cynthia's husband, had filed for a divorce. So maybe she was just trying to get her groove back or something, Rafe thought.

Shockingly, you were the one to snap and cut into Cynthia for her nuisance behavior, finally. 

It was a stupid and risky idea, and you don't know what had come over you, honestly. It was something the Queen Bee would do in a raunchy teen movie. 

You had sent Cynthia a video of Rafe full-on fucking you. 

And I mean, you went all out. A tripod was set up and everything. 

It was an 11-minute length video of Rafe fucking you in two positions. 

For five minutes straight, Rafe took you from behind--your plush ass dangling off the edge of the bed as Rafe pounded into your sopping loud cunt, standing up, with his thumb occasionally pressing into your asshole.

With each thrust from Rafe's hips was met with your ass, causing the skin-on-skin slapping to fill the room. 

And then for another five minutes, he fucked you in missionary--with your legs pressed to his sides, Rafe sucking and biting your neck and cursing in your ear about how this is "Your dick."

You had made sure to include a minute of Rafe jacking off and cumming on the folds of your pussy and onto your clit. Then, you told Rafe to hurry up and grab the phone and record him fucking his cum deep inside of you because you were the only one indeed that owned Rafe's cock, and seemingly Cynthia needed to be reminded of that.

When you sent the video to Cynthia, you set it on vanishing mode and made sure it was to be deleted as soon as she finished watching it, so if she ever mentioned it, it was her word against yours.

You never told Rafe about sending Cynthia your sex tape, and Cynthia never brought it up, but you knew she had gotten the message since she never bothered Rafe again afterwards.

[purplesuitcowboy]

this is so long, my god but i love a sexy maid moment.

tw: rape (under negotiated kink and consent with coercion)

This job had not been Brittney's first choice. She'd been working at the restaurant one night when a man far to wealthy to be eating at an establishment as shitty as the place she worked had gotten her attention and slipped her his card. He'd told her that if she was ever interested in expanding her work opportunities and entering into a lucrative new field, she should give the number a call. At the time, she'd brushed off his proposition, thinking him a creep, but she never threw out his card. Of course, she'd gotten fired a week later for tardiness and after weeks of fruitless job hunting, she had re-evaluated his offer. Maybe, it wouldn't be that bad? He was pretty posh so she didn't imagine they have her doing hard labor outside or anything.

She checked her bank account and the minuscule balance helped her steel her nerves. She didn't have enough money to pay her rent this month. The leasing agency had been lenient with her thus far but she knew that eventually their patience with her late or missing or incomplete payments would wear out and she'd be out on the street. She'd called and found out that the number was for an agency that matched attractive young women with wealthy clients who needed extra assistance performing common household tasks. She'd asked the agent for more information but hadn't been able to get more out of them then vague statements about client confidentially.

She'd agreed and gone through the strangest application process she'd ever experienced. She'd never been asked to submit her measurements to a job before. She thought that maybe they just had specific uniform standards but she never received anything. The only pro about the whole thing, other then the pay check, was that it didn't take them long to match her with a client. She was sent an address, date, and time to arrive, and was told not to be late under any circumstances unless she wanted to be terminated immediately. This seemed like a lot for a job cleaning houses but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

That's how she'd managed to find herself in the swankiest building she'd ever been in on an elevator headed to the penthouse. The doors opened to a small hallway that lead to an ornate door with a gold door knocker in the shape of a lion. She knocked once and stood there in front of the door. Just how rich were these fucking people? She heard a series of locks being released and then the door opened, revealing a older man with salt and pepper hair, and strong jaw. He was obviously in great shape for his age, and she struggled to find the right place to look at him so she wasn't just shamelessly ogling her employer. He had a stern look about him and Brittney was happy that she wasn't late. She did not want to what he looked like when he was angry.

"Oh, uh. Hello, sir. I'm-", she started speaking quickly, trying to introduce herself but he cut her off.

"I know exactly who you are Brittney. Please come inside," he turned on his heel and briskly walked into the spacious apartment, not bothering to check and see if she was following behind him.

She squeaked in surprise and followed quickly behind him. The door immediately shut behind her and she heard a series of clicks as all of the locks fell back into place. It was the nicest apartment Brittney had ever seen. Everything was clean and white with the kind of modern minimalist furniture that only rich people liked. The best thing about the apartment was the windows. It had the best view of the city, that seemed to sprawl out like an ocean beneath them.

"We have much to discuss so why don't you get changed into your uniform and then we'll talk."

"Oh, I don't have a uniform. I thought the company was going to provide something but nothing ever came," she told him apologetically.

"I'd certainly hope not. We have a uniform for you here. It's in the other room there. It's based on your measurements so provided you did not lie, it should fit just fine."

Brittney looked at him baffled. She waited for him to provide more of an explanation but he did not so she walked into room to get changed. It was guest bedroom with an attached bathroom. Laid out on the bed was what looked like a slutty maid costume which was odd. She wandered around the room, looking for her uniform. Upon finding nothing, she poked her head out of the bedroom door.

"Excuse me, sir. I don't see my uniform," she told him.

"It should be on the bed," he told her, which would mean that the skimpy maid costume was her uniform.

"Oh, I'm sorry I can't wear that."

He looked at her for a moment with an expression on his face that seemed to communicate that he thought was was very stupid.

"Tell me, Brittney. Did you happen to read the contract before you signed it?"

Her face redden. She had looked at it but not very carefully. It just looked like a normal contract to her so she'd signed it without much thought.

"I see," he replied, voice cold." In the future, I would suggest you read contacts before you sign them and certainly before you show up at a clients house for a job. If you'd read it, you'd understand that employed in this capacity I own you - all of you. If you wish not to continue, please tell me now so I can send you on your way and we can stop wasting my time."

Her eyes widened as the reality of what she'd signed up for dawned on her. She'd figured that the job was weird but she didn't realize that it was going to be this. He was giving her an opportunity to leave and she should take it but she knew that if she did she could kiss her check good-bye.

"My apologies, sir. Please forgive me. I'll get changed right away."

She ducked back into the bedroom, closing the door gently behind her. She changed out of her clothes and into the skimpy costume. She'd original thought that it was one piece but it was actually three. It also came with a matching choker, tights, and high heels, as well as a little metal thing shaped like a tear drop with a heart shaped jewel on the end but Brittney couldn't figure what that was suppose to be for.

The top was something like a triangle bikini top with a matching shrug that only covered her shoulders. The triangles of the bikini top covered her nipples, which had come to points in the cool air and were visible under the thin fabric of the top, but little else. The skirt, which had a white apron sewed onto it, was equally immodest. It hugged her hips well but barely covered her shaved pussy. She'd looked around for underwear but found none. Brittney tried to pull her tiny skirt down to cover a bit more of her ass but it was in vain. She hoped that he wasn't going to have her picking anything up because she'd be completely exposed. With the addition of the accessories and shoes, she was (barely) dressed in her uniform. She walked back into the main room of the apartment where her client was waiting for her, holding the small metal object in her hand.

"I'm dressed, sir," she told. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to do with this though."

He walked around her in a circle, looking over her body appreciatively.

"It fits you well," he told her, taking the item from her hand. "Don't worry. I'll help you. Now, I am going to tell you about this job and you are going to listen. Today is going to be unlike your other days here. Consider it an introduction to the job."

He slide the item in his pocket and with his hand free, he grabbed Brittney by the waist and pulled her towards him. She stumbled forward, landing with her hands on his broad chest. He cupped her ass with his big hands, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. Brittney gasped, at the sensation of his hands on her. This was bad. He was her boss, he shouldn't be touching her like this and she shouldn't be enjoying it. Despite her reluctance, she said nothing, afraid of pissing him off and losing her job.

"As I previously mentioned, while you work in this capacity, I own you and I mean this very literally," he told her, as he turned her so that her ass was pressed tightly against his thick cock. He ran his hands up and down her lithe body, groping her full tits and upper thighs.

"You are going to do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it, and who I tell you to do it with," he continued. With one hand, he freed her tits from the confines of her tiny top, teasing her sensitive nipples with his fingers, and the other, he sneaks between her legs to rub at her little pussy. He runs two thick fingers against her slit, coating them in her juices, and then plunging two of them inside of her. Brittney moans in response, hips bucking to take in more of his thick fingers.

"You will not talk back, and you will not make me repeat myself. Do I make myself clear?" When she doesn't respond quickly enough, he pulls his fingers out of her cunt and roughly spanks her pussy, earning a yelp of surprise from Brittney.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," she replied, but she quickly learned that this was not the response that he was looking for as he delivered another series of slaps to her pussy.

"Not quite, try again," he told her, his hand hovering over her wet cunt ready to deliver another series of slaps if she fucked up.

"Yes, sir."

"Good, girl," he tells her and she shudder's at the praise. "Now, I am a firm master but I am not unfair. It is expected that you will make mistakes but you will be guided and corrected as needed."

He slips his fingers back into her waiting cunt, scissoring them to stretch out her hole and then adding a third finger, pumping them in and out roughly. While he fucked her with his fingers, he used his thumb to rub her tender clit until her legs began to tremble. He lets her get close to the edge but denies her, over and over again. To Brittney, it feels like her pleasure stretches into eternity. She has no conception of how long they have been standing here in his living room with his devilish fingers playing with her pussy. Letting go of her tit, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the object from before.

"This, my dear, is a butt plug and it is apart of your uniform. I expect you wear it whenever you are working in this capacity. I'm sure this seems daunting now but I'm sure you'll grow to love it."

He pulls his fingers out of her cunt and pushes the plug inside, coating it in her juices. Brittney whimpers at the sensation but offers up no resistance. Slowly, he fucks her with the plug until she's close to cumming but slips it out before she can. He carefully pushes the plug against the tight ring of her anus and watches with satisfaction as it stretches around the toy. Brittney groans as her ass is slowly stretched and filled by the unfamiliar object. With the body of the plug snugly in her ass, the only thing that can be seen is the twinkling heart shaped jewel between her ass cheeks.

"That's a good girl. I think, you've earned an orgasm."

With her ass filled by the plug, his thick fingers in her pussy and against her clit felt even more intense. She came with a scream, as her legs buckled and she sagged against her employer's broad chest. She'd never cum that hard before. She felt like she'd been shot into space.

"Now that you've cum, I think it's time that you show your appreciation, huh?" he told her, as he pushed her to her knees and pulled out his hard cock.

[my-castles-crumbling]

smart - October 6th - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - word count: 665 - trans!Regulus Inspired by a reddit post that I heard about on a podcast so I don't have the original source to link it lol

"It's going well, I think," Effie whispered to Monty, who nodded at his wife, grinning.

"I like him. I have to admit, he's not what I thought he would be, though," Monty murmured, looking across the room.

It was true. James was so larger-than life and attention-grabbing; so loud and, Effie had to admit, dramatic. But Regulus, James's boyfriend who he'd finally agreed to introduce them to, was quieter. It had struck them as strange that it had taken so long, since Regulus was Sirius's little brother, and Sirius had practically been their adoptive son for years. But they didn't know a lot about Regulus. Just that he had taken longer to cut ties with Sirius's problematic family, and that their son was absolutely crazy about him.

He also seemed nervous and a bit skittish, though when he did speak, he came off as extremely smart. Though both men looked at each other with stars in their eyes, it was certainly a different match than what James's parents had been expecting.

When they interacted together, it made all the sense in the world, though. At least in Effie's opinion. They were natural opposites in the best way, and Regulus seemed to bring out the best in James. He'd never seemed happier.

"I'm going to do the dishes," she announced, standing and exiting the room, waving all of the boys off as they got up to try to help.

But as she began to get to work, the short, curly-haired man who had been glued close to James's side all night entered the kitchen, balancing a stack of plates.

"Oh, let me get those, dear!" Effie jumped over to grab the stack from Regulus's hand, eager to help.

"Thanks, Mrs. Potter," Regulus smiled softly. "The meal was wonderful. Was that thyme I tasted?"

"Oh, thank you, dear. It was! Do you cook?" she asked as they began to fall into a rhythm of washing and drying together.

"A bit. I learned a lot of family recipes as a child, and it was one of the few things my parents insisted on teaching me that I actually enjoyed," Regulus shrugged, meticulously drying a plate.

"Interesting," Effie frowned, speaking over the running water. "Did they make Sirius learn, too?" Sirius had become a permanent fixture in their household long ago, but had never mentioned learning how to cook.

Regulus just snorted softly. "No, they only made the girls learn."

It took a moment for Regulus's admission to sink in, and the dish Effie was now washing in the sink slipped from her hands as she realized. "Oh!" she said softly, her brain catching up with the conversation.

Regulus's eyes grew wide as he, too, figured out what had happened. "James and Sirius never told...?" His face, which had previously had a small smile playing on his guarded features, grew nervous and almost cold.

But Effie wasn't having that. "Regulus," she said firmly, grabbing his arm with her wet hand and refusing to allow him to turn and walk away. "It doesn't matter to us," she stated, looking the terrified man in the eye, making sure he understood she'd never been more sincere.

The gray eyes that stared back at him grew wide and watery, and he blinked a few times before nodding and letting out a shaky breath. "I- okay," he mumbled. "Sorry, I- It's just, my parents were-"

"I understand," Effie murmured, movign her hand up to squeeze his shoulder.

Nodding again, Regulus visibly relaxed, turning back to the dish he had been drying.

"It won't matter to Monty, either," Effie clarified, squeezing his shoulder again and returning to the sink. "As long as you and James love each other and you support his Quidditch team, he'll approve."

Chuckling, Regulus smiled. But after a moment, he turned to Effie, frowning. "What Quidditch team? Because James likes the Chudley Cannons and I can't even pretend to like-"

"No, he likes Puddlemere," Effie laughed, pulling him into a hug.

[hard-core-super-star]

the good, the bad, and the dirty [kinktober special]

pairing: sugardaddy!kate bishop x sub!reader x dom!wanda maximoff x dom!carol danver x dom!natasha romanoff

summary: kate might be young and inexperienced but she's a damn good negotiator. so, in search of a merger that will catapult bishop security to the top of the food chain, she shares her most prized possession with the other CEOs.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI -> porn with almost no plot but a bit of exposition; slightly dubcon at first but consent is given!; kate being far too cocky for her own good; daddy kink [kate]; mommy kink [wanda]; fingering [R receiving]; cunnilingus [R receiving]; mentions of humiliation; so many petnames; praise + degradation; brief choking; voyeurism; a dash of petplay/R being referred to as "pet"; implied dom/sub dynamics

wordcount: 3.5k

a/n: hihihi, it's me again! i thought my last fic was the smuttiest fic i'd ever written but i think this one takes the cake. it's an idea i've been toying with for a long time and i'm very excited to send it out to the world. there's so much more i want to do with this concept so the ending is a little open. SPEAKING OF! i'm pretty sure i'll end up writing a part two to my recent wandanat fic so keep an eye out for that. anyway, hope you enjoy <3 [and like always, feel free to share your thoughts via my inbox]

* * * * * * *

Never in your life would you have imagined you'd end up being the girlfriend of one of New York's youngest, and richest, CEOs. More than that, you would have never imagined you'd agree to being her sugar baby. And yet...here you were.

In your defense, Kate Bishop could be very persuasive when she wanted to be. Especially when she wanted something.

You're not sure what about you captivated her so much but you hadn't been able to shake her off after your first meeting. There was nothing even particularly exciting about how you met.

You had gone into a ridiculously expensive, and awfully busy, coffee shop around Fifth Avenue in search of a good drink and a sweet pastry to take the sting off of being fired yet again. In your frustration, you hadn't noticed Kate's speeding form and she'd ended up running into you.

Thankfully, there was no coffee spilled, but that didn't stop the brunette from offering you far too many apologies in a short span of time. You'd never been particularly bold and yet, you told her she could buy you a drink to make up for it.

Your boldness was rewarded by the young CEO and before you knew it, Kate had become a part of your daily routine.

The relationship slowly progressed into something less sweet the more time you spent with her. The more you got to learn about her desires, about her need to take care of her partner in every way possible.

Her trauma probably had a lot to do with that, but instead of spending her money on therapy, she spent it on you. Hence her transition from supportive girlfriend to devoted sugar daddy.

It might not the world's greatest arrangement, by any means, but there's no denying your fondness for the young CEO. 

Sure, she can be reckless and borderline cruel when she wants to be, but for all her flaws, she feels like...safety.

It's what keeps you coming back to her. It's not the money, or the expensive toys, or the endless gifts, or even her looks. It's the way she can read you with a single look. The way she's so fine-tuned to everything that makes you tick. Whether it's in the bedroom or outside of it, Kate knows you. 

More than that, she relishes in it. In knowing you better than you know yourself and guiding you through the ups and downs that come with a relationship like yours.

There's nothing Kate loves more than surprising you with things you've always wanted to try but can never ask for. She gets the usual rush of power that she loves so much, but she also gets to please you, which you're quickly learning matters to her far more than anything else.

Maybe that's why you should have known what she wanted when she asked you to come to the office with her. You knew she had an important meeting set for later in the day, something about a business proposal she was trying to finish up, but she asked you to come with her anyway.

Everything was normal until she felt for her meeting, only to ask you to come into the room a few minutes later.

You obeyed pretty much instantly, but your obidience didn't take away your nervousness as you stepped into the room.

"Come here, princess." Kate's voice is sweet but no less firm as her eyes rake up and down your body.

The underlying command in her words can't be ignored, not that you'd try even if you could. 

You're acutely aware of the eyes trained on you as you make your way over to the brunette. The smirk on her face is far more attractive than it has any right to be and she happily extends her hand out to you once you're close enough.

She helps you climb onto her lap, your back flush against her front. The warmth of her body helps your tense muscles relax as you sink back against her.

"Good girl," she murmurs, her arms wrapping loosely around your waist. "Just sit here and look pretty for me, okay?"

You hum in response and do your best to keep your nervous fidgeting to a minimum.

The meeting resumes as if nothing happened and yet the other women's eyes seem to return to you every few seconds. You try to keep your head down and ignore their looks, but there's a certain fire in them that you can't ignore.

Wanda's gaze seems particularly intense and it makes your thighs clench together despite how badly you don't want them to.

If anybody notices, they don't say anything. Kate's hand makes its way onto your lap, though, her fingers slowly tracing shapes across your thighs.

"You can't be serious, Kate," you hear Natasha say. "A merger will never work."

"Why not?" Kate questions. "We've all got the means to support it and I doubt jealousy will be an issue."

"You sure about that?" Carol asks, her eyes trailing back and forth between you and the young CEO.

Kate's grip on you tightens for a second and you barely hold back a gasp as she lifts your leg up, slowly maneuvering you until your legs are spread and you're completely vulnerable to their gazes. "It's why we're all here, isn't it? I have something you guys want and I want you to accept my proposal. I think there's a way for all of us to get exactly what we want."

"Kate," you whisper, your hand shooting down to grab her wrist.

She shushes you before placing a series of feather-light kisses to your neck. "It's alright, baby. Just trust me."

You do trust her, but no amount of trust can make the situation any less nerve wracking. It's impossible to deny your attraction to the other women, though, and as much as you hate to admit it...a part of you is really interested to see how things will play out.

Kate's never been good at sharing her toys and you can't imagine her possessive instincts won't get triggered once things get started.

You're eager to find out and judging by the way she's squirming under you, your lover feels exactly the same way.

"What do you say, ladies?" The brunette asks. "I'll let you have your fun and then we can get back to business. And by business, I, of course, mean you accepting my proposal."

The three women exchange looks, each of them wearing a different kind of incredulous look. Carol looks surprisingly impressed, Natasha's gaze is glued to the spot between your legs, and Wanda seems mostly amused by it all.

None of them seem particularly against the idea, though, and your blood boils with a different kind of heat. You've never felt more desired in your life.

And sure, maybe, you should feel a little humiliated too but you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when you've secretly fantasized about this for longer than you'll ever let yourself admit.

"And you're sure about this?" Wanda asks, her eyes moving from Kate to you. "Both of you?"

Kate's fingers stop moving, leaving you suspended in the air as you try to catch your breath. The check-in is more than appreciated and you allow yourself to think things over. To truly analyze the situation in front of you.

Unfortunately, the situation in front of you is far too intoxicating for you to be able to think properly. All you can focus on is how incredible their attention feels, how weirdly powerful their desire makes you feel. You don't know it, but you've got them all wrapped right around your finger.

They would do anything for you.

"I'm sure," you say, your voice slightly shaky. "I'm in if you are."

"Told you," Kate says. "My good girl isn't afraid of getting a little naughty."

Her words make you clench around nothing, your thighs attempting to close to ease some of the growing ache settled between in your core. The brunette doesn't let you get too far, though. Her hands drift down to grip your thighs, slowly spreading them wider until you're fully spread out on her lap.

The position leaves you vulnerable and far more aroused than you ever thought you would be. Along the way, your skirt had moved up, giving the three CEOs a tantalizing view of your soaked panties.

Carol groans at the sight of you. "Fuck, look at her, she's drenched."

Her words have an instant effect on you and Kate's nails dig into your skin in an attempt to get you to stop squirming so much.

"She's desperate for you," your lover points out almost absentmindedly. "Are you guys gonna stop stalling, or should I give you a preview of what our deal will give you access to?"

"You're getting cocky, Bishop," Natasha says with a low chuckle. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"Do you?" Kate bites back, her fingers trailing teasingly along your thigh until they reach the soaked fabric of your panties.

The gasp you let out is instantaneous and the sound seems to echo across the large meeting room. It's just one small sound and yet it seems to ignite the same thought in each of the CEOs.

"Fine," Wanda says. "We'll play your game. But don't be surprised when your little girlfriend ends up hooked on us."

 The green-eyed woman's words made Kate laugh. "Trust me, the last thing I'll be is surprised if that happens."

Their conversation did little to soothe your growing need. 

Kate obviously knows that, considering the way she continues teasing you, callused fingers hovering over your aching clit. Your underwear is practically stuck to your slick folds already, giving everyone a perfect view of your dripping entrance.

"Come on, baby." The brunette's breath hits your ear. "You know what you have to do."

You do know. But that doesn't make it any less humiliating. Then again, the slight sting of humiliation also makes it feel better.

"Please," you whimper. "Please touch me. I need you."

Carol can't even try to hold herself back after hearing that. She instantly jumps up from her seat, her smile so sweet it borders on dangerous. "Don't worry, honey, I'll give you exactly what you're begging for."

You're not sure what to expect from her as she approaches you. You watch silently, Kate's hands keeping you spread wide open and grounded in the moment.

"Such a good girl, aren't you, sweetheart?" Carol sinks down onto her knees in front you, instantly leaning in to trail her lips across your inner thigh. "So responsive. It's cute."

Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of her mouth on your skin. Her touch is different from Kate's, no less adoring but far less hesitant. She knows exactly what she wants and exactly what to do to get it. She doesn't even need to ask.

Her fingers drag your ruined underwear to the side and she groans as your cunt is finally exposed to her eager eyes. "Fuck, Kate, how do you not spend all day buried inside her?"

The feeling of a hand wrapping around your throat makes you jump. Your eyes open only to be met with Wanda's dark gaze, her lips curling upward as you relax once more. She doesn't speak her approval but the soft squeeze she gives you is more than enough for you.

"I've done it before," Kate admits. "Pretty sure I've fucked her in every corner of my office."

"That's because you're impatient," Natasha says. "And reckless."

The older woman doesn't sound particularly amused by what's happening in front of her, but you don't miss the way she keeps palming at her crotch. Just because she doesn't seem to pleased by this idea doesn't mean she isn't enjoying the show.

Carol steals all your thoughts away in an instant as her tongue makes contact with your folds. You both moan at the feeling and your hands reach out to grip her hair before you can stop them.

Kate stops them for you, though. She grips your wrists and brings them behind your back without a word. 

The blonde between your legs takes advantage of this and her hands make their way onto your thighs. Your hips buck even as she holds you down, her tongue drawing teasing circles around your swollen clit.

"Hands behind your back, baby," Kate mumbles. "Just let them use you. It''s what you want, right?"

"Yeah-"

"Good girl." 

The praise doesn't come from the brunette, it comes from Natasha and the sound of her approval makes your walls clench around nothing.

"Come on, 'Tasha, stop being such a grump," Wanda says with a roll of her eyes. "We can all tell you're enjoying the show."

"I still don't approve of this."

"You don't have to approve of it to have a good time, detka."

The redhead narrows her eyes, a silent warning in her gaze. Wanda seems unfazed by it, though, clearly more than used to the other woman's prickly personality. "You're worse than the Bishop girl."

Their conversation is interrupted when Carol pushes her tongue inside your tight entrance, drawing out a desperate moan from your throat. Even with her tight grip on your thighs, you manage to buck your hips into her face, nothing but pure desperation driving your movements.

It's a little embarrassing how close you already are to falling apart, but it's not like you can help it. Not when they've all been doing their best to drive you crazy since you walked into the meeting room.

Wanda gives your throat a gentle squeeze in an attempt to bring you attention back to her. "I think someone's getting a little ahead of themselves."

"That tends to happen when she's needy like this," Kate says, easily offering up details of your sex life as if it's nothing.

"Cute." Her free hand finds its way between your legs, her fingers teasing your clit and causing you to cry out once more. "You still need to beg for it, sweetheart."

Your response is instantaneous.

"Please, can I cum?" You beg, ignoring how humiliating it feels.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, baby, Wanda's not easily impressed." Your lover's hands find their way under your shirt and she slowly caresses your heated skin. It's a small thing, but it's designed to remind you she's right there, looking after you and making sure you're okay.

Carol's tongue continues exploring your cunt as Wanda continues playing with your clit, both of them working in tandem to drive you absolutely out of your mind. It works far too well, considering how difficult it is for you to form words.

To top it all off, Kate's hands move up to play with your breasts while Natasha keeps eye contact with you. It's almost like she's challenging you to keep yourself together when it's so obvious that you're an inch away from losing all control over yourself.

As much as you might move being stubborn, there's no way for you to win out over the pleasure. No way to stop yourself from sinking deeper and deeper into their control.

"Please, mommy," you whine before you even know what you're doing. "Please let me cum for you. I wanna be your good girl. Please-"

Despite how messy and borderline incoherent your pleas are, they all take pity on you and wordlessly decide to give you what you want.

"Good girl. Cum for us, sweetheart."

Your body instantly responds to her words, even though she's not usually the person you ask permission from. Kate doesn't seem to care, though, her eager eyes taking in the blissful expression on your face as you let go for them.

"That's my good girl, I'm so proud of you, you're perfect." The brunette continues to whisper endless praises as Carol draws out your orgasm, happily cleaning you up as you make a mess of yourself.

Your body trembles in Kate's lap, chest heaving as the remaining waves of pleasure make their way through you. You're pretty sure you've never had an experience as intense as this one, no orgasm as absolutely breathtaking. (Not that you'll ever tell them that, they're way too competitive to handle the information.)

The hand that's wrapped around your throat moves up, gently tilting your chin until yuo're forced to look up at Wanda. Her usually vibrant eyes are dark and you can practically see every dirty thought that flashes across her mind. No one has to say it out loud for you to know you're far from done.

"You're so fuzzy already, aren't you?" The older woman asks, even though she already knows the answer.

Her thumb brushes your lower lip and you part your lips for her. A warm chuckle slips out of her as you take her thumb into your mouth, your eager submission plastered all over your face.

You can hear Kate's voice, no doubt trying to convince Natasha to take the stick out of her ass and have fun, but your focus is entirely placed on Wanda's eyes and Carol's lips trailing up and down your trembling thighs.

You're not sure how much time goes by like that, with your mind completly submerged under the comfort and safety they all provide you with. All at once, though, things pick up again.

Wanda steps back from you, drawing a whine out of your lips when she takes her thumb with her, and Carol effortlessly picks you up from Kate's lap, strong muscles flexing under her tight shirt. You enjoy enjoy the sight as she carries you over to the meeting table.

She sets you down on the edge of the ornate table and her hands start undressing you before you can even comprehend what's happening. You've always made fun of Kate for being too impatient but the blonde might have her beat considering the way she practically rips your shirt off of you in her hurry.

"Hey!" Your lover pipes up. "That was expensive."

"You talk too much," Natasha says.

It's not until you hear her talk again that you realize she's taken your spot on Kate's lap. Despite the position, there's no doubt who's in control between the two of them. You're sure you've never seen the young CEO so submissive before.

You'd be lying if you said it wasn't an instant turn on.

Your legs wrap around Carol once she manages to undress you, pulling her closer to you with an impatience that rivals hers.

"You're gorgeous, baby," she mumbles as her hands explore your chest, her fingers twisting and pulling at your hardened nipples. "I can't get enough of you."

"Carol," you groan, trying to pull at her clothes only to be pushed onto your back.

"Don't tell me you forgot about me, sweetheart," Wanda teases. 

There's a glimmer of amusement in her eyes as she watches you struggle to comprehend what's happening. It's not like it's surprising considering how hazy they've left you. How thoughtless they've rendered you.

"Aw, Wands, she was enjoying the show," Carol coos, her fingers spreading your folds open to reveal how wet you are. Again.

"Is that right?" Natasha's voice sounds far too close despite the distance. If you try hard enough, you can see her head tilting back, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure while Kate nips at her neck. "You like watching your daddy be put in her place?"

You nod but Wanda's subtle eyebrow raise is a command you can't ignore. "Yes, I like it. Wanna watch."

"That's adorable...but I'm not quite done with you yet."

Carol doesn't give you a chance to process her words before she's plunging two of her fingers deep inside your sensitive cunt, her groans mixing with your moans and drowning out the sounds of Kate pleasuring Natasha.

Wanda's left out for the moment, busying herself with removing her clothes as she takes in the scene in front of her. She's sure she's never seen a more sucessful business meeting before. None of them will admit it, but Kate's idea was perfect.

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Based on Oliver mentioning Buck and Jee baking together in an upcoming ep.

(I wrote this on my phone so it's not the greatest)

now also on AO3

---

"Is it someone's birthday?" Maddie asked, running through all of their friends and relatives in her mind, trying to figure out if she forgot a birthday.

"No." Buck shook his head and kept pulling ingredients out of the fridge and his kitchen cabinets.

"Ok... What's the occasion then?" she asked when he didn't elaborate.

"It's for Tommy. "

"Oh, is it his birthday?"

"No, not for a few weeks."

"Right. So this is a practice run?"

"What? No. I found the recipe online, but it's easy enough."

"Ok..."

"He likes cake."

"Ok."

Buck sighed and rolled his eyes at his sister before glancing up in the direction of the loft's bedroom.

"He's had a rough couple of days. He had to make an emergency landing because of bad weather yesterday and the ambulance couldn't get to them fast enough and they lost the patient."

"That was him? Josh took that call and he was exhausted from stress by the end of shift."

Buck nodded.

"Tommy too. And he was hurting all over last night. He never takes any pain medication but he took two ibuprofen and a hot shower and crashed into bed."

"Are you sure you're alright to take Jee for the afternoon then? I can ask Mrs Lee or see if she can go play with her friend Emily from down the road. "

"It's fine." Buck told her and turned to Jee. "You're my sous chef aren't you? Are you going to help me today?"

"Yeah!" the girl yelled happily.

"But we have to be quiet ok? Tommy is sleeping upstairs and we don't want to wake him. He needs to sleep because he's sick."

Jee nodded solemnly to show she understood.

"But we're going to surprise him with cake so he'll feel better soon, right?"

"Yeah!" she yelled again, making her mother and uncle laugh.

"At least she's enthusiastic." Maddie tried and bent down to hug and kiss her daughter goodbye. "You be good for uncle Buck, me or daddy will pick you up tonight ok?"

"Ok mommy!" Jee said and climbed up onto the stool next to the kitchen counter.

"Go. We'll be fine." Buck assured her, wrapping an arm around Jee to keep her safe.

After Maddie had left, Buck gave Jee an old shirt of his to wear as apron, made her wash her hands, and the two of them got to work.

He tried to let her do as much as possible while still making sure everything was going to plan and she wouldn't hurt herself.

Before long the cake was in the oven and they started the clean up.

"And when it's done baking, we let it cool off a little and then we can put the icing on and decorate it with these." he showed Jee the assortment of sprinkles he kept in his kitchen for her.

Jee nodded happily and started planning out her sprinkles masterpiece.

Buck looked up towards the bedroom area and listened for a sign of life from his boyfriend.

When he didn't hear anything, he decided to put Jee in front of the TV and go check on him. Tommy was fast asleep, rolled up in the duvet like a human burrito, and didn't seem to have woken up since Buck had made him eat something that morning.

Satisfied everything was ok, he went back downstairs and let Jee tell him all about the cartoon she was watching, until the cake was ready for decoration.

"Which ones do you want to put on first? Pink or gold?"

"Gold!"

"Alright, gold it is. Put it on where you think is best." Buck told her. "But not too much, we need to leave room for the other colours. And we can put your name on it. And mine."

"And uncle Tommy." she decided and Buck froze for a second.

Sure Tommy and Jee had met and he'd explained to her that Tommy was to him what mommy and daddy were to each other, and he was pretty sure she'd understood, but to hear her call him uncle Tommy, that was new.

Jee didn't seem to notice just how much she'd just turned his world upside down and was babbling about what colour sprinkles should go where.

"Pink here for the heart." she decided and Buck wondered when they'd agreed on heart shaped decorations.

"Right, yeah, that... that works." he let Jee draw a heart in pink sprinkles and dutifully wrote his and Tommy's names in it. "And where should I write your name?"

Jee thought for a minute and studied the cake but then shook her head.

"No name."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Jee said like it was the most obvious thing in the world and put some sugar stars across the top half of the cake, above the heart with their names. "That's the sky. With stars."

"Oh wow, that's beautiful miss Jee, did you make that?"

Buck jumped a little when he suddenly heard his boyfriend's voice behind him and felt a hand on his waist.

"Uncle Buck helped" Jee told Tommy.

"Did he now? I'm sure you did all of the important work." Tommy said and gave her a conspiratory wink before turning to Buck and stealing a small kiss. "Hey." he greeted him softly.

"H-hey... Did we wake you?"

Tommy shook his head.

"It's fine. Had to get up eventually."

"Feeling better yet?"

Tommy shrugged and sat down at the kitchen island.

"I'm alright." he just said, which wasn't really an answer but Buck decided to let it go for now.

"Uncle Tommy, it's for you. You need to come look!" Jee insisted, pointing at the cake.

Tommy met Buck's eyes over her head and mouthed "Uncle Tommy?" at him.

Buck shrugged and smiled.

"Uncle Tommy, come see!" Jee said again, a little louder this time, clearly getting fed up with the adults in her life.

"Why don't you two come here and show me, and you can tell me what you made."

Buck helped her down from her stool and put the cake on the island in front of Tommy before helping Jee back on her stool, this time sitting next to Tommy who immediately put a hand on her back so she wouldn't fall off.

"This is the sky with the stars." she started like she was explaining the mysteries of the universe. "And you can fly to the stars."

Tommy laughed a little.

"I don't think I can go quite that high in my helicopter. But maybe I can show you how high I do go. When you're a little older. And your mommy and daddy are ok with it. Maybe uncle Evan will want to come too."

Jee-Yun turned to Buck and gave him an expectant look.

"Yeah, maybe." he settled on, trying to get his heart to calm down and not burst out of his chest hearing his boyfriend make plans with his niece. Even if she was only three and would probably have forgotten about it by the time she was old enough to even think about going up.

She seemed happy with that answer and turned back to Tommy to explain the rest of their creation.

"It's really amazing Jee, it's almost too pretty to eat don't you think?"

"No. You have to eat it. It's chocolate." she said as if that explained everything.

"Oh really? I do love chocolate." Tommy told her. "But can I take a picture of it before we eat it?" he reached into the pocket of his sweats only to realise he'd left his phone upstairs. "Evan, can you take a picture and send it to me?"

"Sure." he grabbed his phone and opened the camera. "You should be in the picture too, we made it for you after all."

Tommy dutifully posed with the cake, tilting the pan towards the camera so the decorations were clearly visible.

"And now one with the master chef herself." he put the cake back down on the table and moved a little closer to Jee so they'd both fit in the picture with the cake and Buck took a few pictures.

After that Jee insisted on having a photo shoot, and by the time Maddie came to pick her back up, his camera roll was filled with pictures of the three of them.

He showed a few to Maddie at Jee's insistence and set one of Tommy making a funny face at Jee as his new contact picture.

They said goodbye to Maddie and Jee-yun and settled on the sofa together, scrolling through the pictures and laughing at some of silly ones.

"I like this one." Buck said, stopping at a selfie of the two of them where Tommy had kissed his cheek at the last second.

"Yeah. Me too." Tommy said softly, not really looking at the picture. "Thanks. For today. For getting me out of my head."

Buck smiled and kissed him.

"Of course."

[vivwritesfics]

Padawan Learner

Mrs Vettel, ex Williams driver, current McLaren driver, can't drive while pregnant. Although she's contracted until 2026, she can't drive while she's with child. But she can't stay away from racing, and can't help but take the Williams rookie under her wing.

Sebastian Vettel x Reader, (Platonic) Logan Sargeant x Reader

Warnings: Brief description of smut

She wasn't supposed to retire at the same time as her husband. He felt as if he was at the end of his career and there was nothing more he could offer to the sport, so he retired. He'd had his glory years in Red Bull, moved to Ferrari, every racers dream, and ended things in Aston Martin, alongside his wife's old teammate.

She still had more race left in her. She'd been with Williams for years, racing alongside Valteri Bottas, Lance Stroll, George Russell, and, later, Alex Albon. But then she moved to McLaren, a team she felt would help her fight for wins.

Her husband very thoroughly celebrated the beginning of his retirement. She found herself stuffed full of cum almost every day of winter break.

It shouldn't have been a surprise when they got pregnant. But she wanted to murder Sebastian. For all of five seconds she wanted to drown him in their pool. But, after that five seconds passed, she was overjoyed, wrapping her arms around Sebastians neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

She told McLaren and they pulled Oscar Piastri in for the year. That was how he got his first drive in F1. All because Sebastian Vettel was incredibly horny, but he didn't need to know this.

She might not have been able to drive, but she still wanted to be trackside whenever she could. Her old team gave her this opportunity. She didn't hang around the McLaren garage, as she had half expected.

No, it was Williams and the new team Principle, James Vowles, who gave her somewhere to be during the season. Even in preseason testing, she was there, watching the Williams.

It was great to be in the garage with Lily again. She'd always liked Lily, thought she was great for Alex when they first met. After her move to McLaren she rarely got to see Lily, and as much as she hated sitting in the garage, it was nice to be sat in the garage with her.

Alex was a great driver. Any advice a veteran like her could have offered him, he already knew.

But then there was his teammate.

She watched Logan from his very first race weekend. She had known about the rookie for a couple of years now and had watched him succeed in Formula Two.

But now, in the Williams tractor, he was struggling. Week after week after week he was finishing outside of the points, or he wasn't finishing at all. She really felt for him.

"Hey," she said after the Hungarian Grand Prix.

Logan hadn't spoken to anybody since he got out of the car and did all that he needed to do. Clearly he was struggling. He didn't say anything, just looked up.

She stood beside him. At her stage of pregnancy she could have gotten down to the floor to sit with him, but she wouldn't have been able to get up without help. Her hand rested on her bump as she looked down at him.

"I still remember my first season in Formula One," she said as she looked at the retired car. "It was 2013 and Seb was set to win the championship. I was in my first year in Williams and I think I only finished maybe ten races," she said with a laugh.

"Wait, seriously?" Asked Logan as he looked up.

She nodded her head. "I crashed out of most, or the car fell apart on me. Most people wondered why I had a seat for the next year, but Williams saw potential in me. I know they see it in you, too."

Every time Logan didn't finish a race, every time he came dead last, she was there. Nobody could comfort her like she did. Sometimes Seb joked that they might as well adopt him, and Logan agreed. Most up and down paddock called Logan her padawan learner, which was very fitting.

Logan began being the person she spent the most time with when Sebastian wasn't there. He'd looked up to her for many years and having her support meant the world to him. He was there for her too, making sure she had somewhere to sit and something to drink whenever she needed it.

In September, a month before her due date, Sebastian begged her to stop travelling. Just in case he wanted her home with him, where he could take care of her. They still watched every race together and she made sure to send Logan a good luck text before every practice session, qualifying, and race.

When Logan got his first points, nobody celebrated more than Sebastian Vettels wife. She was so proud of him, even if those points were because of two disqualifications. She posted a picture of him and her from a previous race on Instagram like a proud mum. Funnily enough, Logan comments 'thanks mom' on the post.

Just two weeks after this, her water broke. Sebastian got her to the hospital. He stayed by her side, holding her hand through the hours of excruciating labour.

Leon Vettel didn't cry when he was born. He was so quiet, that it actually scared his mother. But the doctors and nurses assured the new parents that he was perfectly healthy.

He was their perfect little man.

She insisted on asking Logan to be Leons godfather. They had grown so close over the last few months that it seemed fitting.

Logan accepted. As soon as the Vettels could, they were taking Leon to races. Or, Sebastian took Leon to races, to watch his mother race. Of course he was wearing a Williams hat and McLaren shirt.

"Papa," Leon said at four years old after watching the Australian Grand Prix qualifying session.

"What is it, my little man?" Asked Sebastian as he sat Leon on his lap.

"I wanna be like mama and Uncle Logan," he said, and Sebastian couldn't stop himself from grinning.

[barcaatthemoon]

study date || paige bueckers x reader ||

You try to help Paige study.

18+

"This shit is boring," Paige groaned dramatically as she threw her head down onto the table. You rolled your eyes at her, having heard this every single night for the past week. Paige needed to get on top of her grades, she had promised you that she'd do so. You knew that she was declaring for the draft this year and had simply asked Paige not to let her grades slip again.

To make it easier, you agreed to help her. KK and Azzi were both a bit jealous. Several members of the team had tried to get your help with their homework, but you had always claimed to be too busy. You were a busy person, but this was the only way you could make sure that Paige would actually end up doing her work like you'd asked her to.

"Paige, you need to focus," you told her. Paige let out a whine that had you shooting daggers at her. It was a pretty simple little paper, and yet, Paige was acting like it was hopeless to try and finish it. "Come on, you need the extra credit babe. I've seen your other papers for this class."

"Oh, and now she bullies me too!" Paige exclaimed. You slapped your hand over her mouth to shut her up before you got kicked out. Paige pried your hand off of her mouth, but didn't let her grip on your wrist go even as you tried to move away. "I think you owe me an apology for being mean. Come on, out with it."

"Paige, you're being ridiculous and trying to distract me. Just finish this paper and we can leave," you said. Paige pretended to contemplate it. She leaned in close and pressed a kiss to your lips. "Paige, please do your work."

"No, I want to do you instead," Paige said. She pulled you onto her lap at the table. You had come to the library straight from getting your cheer pictures done. In hindsight, you should have known that Paige would be distracted with you dressed up in your uniform.

"Finish your paper first," you tried. It was no use as Paige balled the paper up and threw it behind her head. "Paige!"

"All done." Paige smiled at you smugly as her hand snuck under your skirt. The moment her fingers brushed against you through your underwear, all of your common sense seemed to go right out the window. You knew that nobody was in the library this late, everybody having left nearly an hour ago, but you and Paige were both stubborn.

"You're going and getting that paper after this," you told her. Paige looked like she had something to say, but when you turned in her lap, she promptly shut up. "I mean it Paige, you're doing that paper tonight."

"Yes ma'am," Paige agreed. Her hands twitched as they rested on your thighs, just waiting for you to give her the go ahead to touch you a little more. "I just have to get some of this energy out, that's all."

"Yeah, I bet." This time, Paige pinched your thigh for your attitude. You went to flick her shoulder, but Paige caught your hand before you got there. She placed the tips of your pointer and middle fingers into her mouth, sucking just enough to coat them a little in her spit. You watched as she used your own fingers to tease you, rubbing them over the fabric of your underwear.

"You're such a good girlfriend, always helping me like this. Anything I need, you always make sure that I have, even when I don't want it. You're so good to me, and I just want to make you feel good," Paige whispered in your ear as she pushed her own fingers past your underwear. You buried your face into the side of her neck to muffle the little moans and gasps that she was already pulling from you. The last thing you wanted was to get kicked out of the library after getting caught.

"Paige," you moaned as she pushed her fingers inside of you. You could feel them filling you up as she pushed them deeper inside. She curled her fingers as she dragged them out, making your hips buck forward a little. "This really wasn't what I had in mind when I told you to meet me here tonight."

"I'm sorry, but you know that I can't keep my hands off you. Especially when you're wearing your cheer uniform. That fucking skirt is devious baby." Paige knew exactly what she was doing. She knew how her words affected you, occasionally even more than physical stimulation. You were close to dripping onto Paige, who could feel the little flutters of your cunt around her fingers as she praised you. "That's it baby, cum for me. Let me feel it, you know how much I love it. Be the good girl I know you are."

"Paige, fuck," you hissed through grit teeth. Your legs snapped shut around her hand as she rubbed your clit, pushing you over the edge. Paige placed her hand over your mouth and leaned her forehead against yours. Once your moans had been reduced to a bit of light panting, Paige moved her hands away from you. "Go get your paper."

"After that?" Paige asked, incredulously. You slid off of her lap and back into your own seat. Paige pouted, but did grab her paper and uncrumple it. "Are you sure that we can't just go back to my place? Come on, you need a shower."

"Paige, I love you dearly, but we both know if I went back to your place, you'd pin me to the mattress and fuck me within an inch of my life in my skirt. We're staying here until you finish that paper, and if you do it before 11:30, I'll go back with you," you promised her. Paige checked her watch and immediately kicked it into gear. You knew she wouldn't finish in time, but you still ended up going over to her apartment to sleep for the night.

[the-modern-typewriter]

your writing is seriously amazing and what got me back into role-play writing! thank you! if possible could we get a human princess who attempted to outsmart a fae king and failed miserably? whether it be for power of her own, or the better good of her people and now she is to be at his side, watching the consequences of her own schemes play against her?

"You..."

"Me," the fairy king said. He sat upon her father's throne with the improper grace so common to his kind - legs dangling over one of the arms. He twirled the crown of her kingdom between his elegant fingers like it was a mere trinket.

The princess squared her shoulders.

"You tricked me," she said. "I asked you to get me out of this - this wretched marriage and you-!"

His head tilted, gaze sharpening a fraction, as she panted. His eyes seemed to glow in the dimly lit room, ever brighter with the rain pelting outside of the window, like he was the only thing that the sun still remembered.

"I'm not marrying you," she said, through gritted teeth.

"You didn't ask not to marry me," he said. "You asked not to marry Prince Calloway or any of the other silly mortal men intent on wielding your power as their own. I do not fall under either of those categories."

That was true. But she hadn't thought for a second-

"You asked," he continued relentlessly, "to rule upon your throne forever more. You never specified you would do so alone."

"It was implied."

"Implication is not a contract."

"Why would you even want to marry me!?"

"Why would you think for a second you were capable of outsmarting a fairy king?"

The princess swallowed.

His voice hadn't exactly changed, still light and breezy, but something as old and dangerous as winter lurked beneath his sunny smile.

The deal had been a simple one, a classic tale. He would save her from the stupid fate her father thought best for her, and she would give him her first-born child. Fool on him that she didn't plan on having any children no matter the lineage of her bloodline. Why would she need to do that when she planned to be the first and eternal queen of her kingdom?

"I suppose," he said, with a sigh, "it is because you are a silly, spoiled mortal, no? Incapable of coping with the one time daddy didn't cave to your whims immediately. A child throwing a temper tantrum."

"That doesn't sound like someone you want to marry."

"Oh, you'll learn. Don't worry."

Her fists clenched. "I do not need your tutelage."

"Evidence suggests otherwise."

"I'm not marrying you."

"Your father has already agreed. And you owe me a child."

"It's absurd to marry someone simply to punish them!"

"Your unhappiness is a mere bonus."

"You're insufferable!"

"Careful, beloved." The very rain outside seemed to stop for a moment, two, as the princess's heart hammered. "For a second there it seemed like you'd forgotten who exactly you were addressing."

Her mouth dried.

He was prettier than Calloway was, but it was easy to mistake him as having the same nature. A foolish prince. Some player of the court too dumb to realise when he was being manipulated, as so many of them were.

He was not that.

He was very much not that.

"I'll marry Calloway," she said, a slight quiver in her voice. Calloway, at least, could be controlled. He was a brute, an idiot, but...

"Too late. The deal is done."

"We could make another deal."

"Why would I wish to make another deal? You have nothing else that I want."

"I - but I - I'm not marrying you. I refuse."

"Then you will be in breach of contract." His head tilted the other way. "Do you know what happens to silly little mortals who breach their contract with me?"

She did, regrettably, know that much. She had read about the fae before she summoned him. She hadn't - well, she'd considered some of the lesser fairies of his court and kind, the less powerful ones, but she was a princess. She'd thought it only right that she dealt with royalty. With him.

Now...

"You've made your point," she said. Her pride burned. "Please."

"Kneel."

She'd never knelt for anyone or anything in her life. She dropped to the cool tiles, face aflame with embarrassment, fear twisting in her stomach.

"What is my point, princess?"

"I'm - you're smarter than me," she said. "I'm a fool. A silly mortal girl."

"Indeed."

"So I've learned my lesson. You don't need to do this."

"Are you sorry?"

"I'm so sorry," she said. She managed to squeeze out a few tears. "I was unforgivably rude. You have my deepest, sincerest apologies. Sire. Uh - fairy king."

"Mm." He finally adjusted his pose, no longer so careless, sitting properly, leaned forward a little to appraise her with his handsome face resting upon his hands.

"So..." She dared another glance at him, biting down on her lip. "You'll call off the deal? Write this all off as a mortal mistake?"

"Oh, not at all," he said. He flashed her a smile. "But it's always good to start a marriage as one means to go on, isn't it?"

"You!" She jerked to her feet, dashing the tears from her cheeks. She managed to stop herself from outright insulting him again as he raised a delicate eyebrow.

"Me." Flat. Simmering.

She backed up a step. Her breath caught in her throat.

Thunder rumbled on the horizon.

"You're dismissed, princess," he said, cold, bored. "After all." He straightened. "You have a wedding to prepare for, don't you?"

She really wished, later, that she hadn't asked him for forever.