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nickynclark · 3 days ago

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The Psychology of Love and Loathing

Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Enemies to lovers!

Word count: 7,584

Warnings: no use of y/n, reader goes by 'bunny', discussion of a case (nothing too far from usual Criminal Minds gore), reader has three PhD's (bet you didn't know that), briefly mentions readers mother committing su!cide, mentions of toxic parents, alcohol consumption, jealous! Reader, jealous! Reid, pet names (good girl, silly girl, baby, sweetheart, sweet thing), degradation, oral f! Receiving, like one line of oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (pls wrap it before you tap it), no mention of reader being on birth control, anal play, overstimulation, after care. If i missed anything let me know!

Author’s note: i’m so sorry im ovulating. This is porn w a shit ton of plot. We’re talkin WORLD BUILDING

MDNI BELOW THE CUT

You blink at the papers in front of you, checking once, twice, double checking three times to make sure what you're seeing is correct.

You were on a case in Texas, called in by local police after four bodies, two wealthy couples, were found shot execution-style and posed on different park benches throughout Amarillo. While at first, it seemed as though it was your average serial killer, the autopsy report showed that the gunshot wound was done post-mortem- all four victims were murdered by being forced to drink household bleach.

You looked down at the papers one more time, noticing that one man, Adam Gilman, cleaned houses of the wealthy, and he purchased a lot of bleach. Way more than needed to clean a few bathrooms.

You quickly dial Garcia, and she answers within the first ring.

"Ask and you shall receive."

"Garcia, what can you find out about Adam Gilman?"

You hear typing from the other end of the line before spewing information, "35-year-old white male, he grew up super rich until his dad pulled his college funding his senior year when his sister went to school to be a doctor. He started paying for her," She suddenly sucked in a breath, "It looks like he had to drop out. He was at Harvard Law. Spiraled downhill from there, sending you the files and address now."

"Thanks, Garcia!"

You rush into the room where the rest of the team is and run up to Hotch.

"Look at this! He fits the profile to a t!"

Hotch looks down at his tablet, and you feel eyes glance over to you, about to speak, but Spencer Reid bursts through the doors.

"Guys our unsub is Adam Gilman! He lives five minutes from here, and his job is on the way."

Hotch nods at you, acknowledging that you have the same information but Reid said it louder, "Let's go."

Since you joined the Bureau last year, Spencer Reid has been competing with you. Whereas he was thirty-three with three PhDs, you were twenty-five with the same amount. Of course, he got his when he was much younger, but he still seemed to overcompensate.

He was intimidated by you.

This wasn't the first time a situation like this had happened. It's almost like he had a radar for when you made a big break, and he wanted to steal the spotlight.

And not to mention he hates you for some reason.

Ever since your first week in the BAU, Dr. Reid has acted indifferent to you. You understand that change can be uncomfortable, but you have done nothing to deserve this cold shoulder.

On your first day, you strutted into the office dressed in a pair of black slacks, a black, v-neck blouse, and some hot pink pumps; being honest, you looked like you owned the place.

When Aaron introduced you to the team, you shook everyone's hand except Reid's.

"The number of pathogens passed through a handshake is staggering," he stated mater-of-factly while staring at your hand, "it's actually safer to kiss."

You laugh and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, "Although I appreciate the concern, a handshake is actually a sign of peaceful intentions. Soldiers would cover their swords on their left side and shake their right hand to show they mean no harm," you shrug, "but I understand the mysophobia."

He nodded at you, a glare suddenly hardening his features, "interesting."

He has refused to hold conversation with you, maintain eye contact with you, or be in the same room with you for an extended amount of time ever since.

He hates it the most when you're right.

After arresting Adam, the team desperately needed to interrogate him. He was denying all claims despite all the evidence against him. In fact, all he has said has been denials. Besides that, he didn't speak. He hadn't asked for a lawyer, hadn't shown any recognition to the couples, and hadn't said anything besides I've never seen those people before.

"We need to make him uncomfortable," Morgan says, "he's running this whole show. We gotta flip the tide."

Emily looks up from her Chinese takeout, laughing, "Let's throw Bun and Reid in there."

Your eyes widen, and you are suddenly incredibly red. Your face is on fire, and you start looking around panicked.

The team started referring to you as 'Bun' over the summer when you all went to a bar together. You accidentally had one too many drinks, and Derek said you were bouncing up and down the whole time.

"She's like a Bunny."

"Don't call me a Bunny!" You slur, "I'm mean. And vicious."

Penelope laughs at you, throwing an arm around your shoulder, "Alright, Bun. Let's go dance!"

Ever since that night, the nickname 'bun' stuck.

Although Emily suggested you and Reid distracting Adam as a joke, Rossi's lips pull into a smile, "That just might work."

Emily sets her food down, suddenly aware that she presented the first good idea so far, "we could dress them up some, make them look like a wealthy couple, and have them ask Adam some questions. It might make him mad enough to break."

Aaron looks at you and you gulp subtly, then he looks to Reid, "It's up to you."

You look at your feet, frowning, "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get this guy in jail."

Reid simply nods.

"Okay," Aaron says, "we'll go get the stuff."

You and Spencer remain in the small room while the others rush out to get the things you require for your transformation.

"Hi." Your voice comes out quiet.

"Hello." He responds blandly.

You suddenly realize this is the first time you and Reid have been in a room alone together, so you take the opportunity.

"What have I done to you?"

Reid's eyebrows shoot up at the confrontation "Huh?"

You roll your eyes, "ever since my first day you've avoided me. What did I do?"

He scoffs, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't." You sigh and run a hand through your hair, "I'm the only person on the team you practically refuse to talk to."

"I'm talking to you right now," he says as if that's a counterargument, "I talk to you all the time."

"Yeah, when you're forced to!" You say exasperatedly, "You know everyone on the team's birthdays, all except mine. You know their family situation because you've asked."

He shrugs, "I know plenty about you."

"How old am I?"

He looks into your eyes calmly, "You're twenty-eight."

"I'm twenty-five."

Emily suddenly bursts into the room, "There isn't anything for you guys in lost and found. You have to go on a shopping trip. Strauss said a 300 dollar limit."

You nod, "I assume that's just for clothes?"

"Yes," She answers, "Reid is going to wear Rossi's watch and a wedding band JJ's going to pick up. Both of you will wear a ring." She then looks to you, "We have a lot of jewelry for you to pick through."

You nod, standing and Reid rises next to you.

Emily tosses you some keys, "be back in an hour."

***

The ride to the mall was quiet. You didn't bother talking to Spencer as you drove, and he didn't bother speaking to you.

He also kept turning down the radio when you tried to turn it up. It was painfully awkward.

Once at the mall, you and Reid split up incredibly fast.

He ran to some men's warehouse, and you rushed to the women's section of a department store.

You quickly pick up a pair of black pinstriped slacks that hug your curves and a tight, white blouse. You finally grab a black, pinstriped blazer, and you head to check out.

On your way, though, a pair of stunning, emerald heels grabs your attention.

You walk closer to study them, and god do they look lavish.

If you weren't here for work, you would grab them in a heartbeat, but you were, and you had already met your price cap.

"Buy them."

You hear Spencer's voice from behind you, and you jump, grabbing your chest in fright.

"What?"

"Get them," he shrugs, "it's obvious you want to."

You laugh shyly, and he stuffs his hands into his jean pockets, his bag of clothes hanging around his wrist.

"I've already met my limit."

"Okay?"

You frown, studying him. He looks calm and relaxed. You tilt your head slightly, and he matches your movement.

No, that can't be right.

You cross your arms in a silent stare down, and he does, too.

"You're mimicking me."

He scoffs, "God, Bun, not everything I do is to spite you!"

Your eyes widen and you suddenly point at him, "You!"

"What?"

"You just called me Bun!"

His eyes barely widen, but he catches himself, staring straight ahead.

His foot stops tapping, "you're hearing things."

"And that's your tell!" You point at his foot, "You just mimicked me, called me 'Bun', and then lied about it!"

He rolls his eyes, "what size are you?"

"You're avoiding the question!"

"You didn't ask a question." He gestures to the heels, "What size?"

"Why?"

"Answer the question, Bunny."

His tone is stern, and you freeze under his stare.

"Nine."

He nods and grabs a box in that size.

"No!" You protest, "Don't!"

"I still had a hundred bucks left over, it's on the company's card."

You blink twice, confused as to why he's being so nice to you.

"Okay. I need to pay and I'm done."

He nods to you, and you both check out. He hands you the heels and you let out a quiet thanks while headed to the car.

***

When you got back to the station, the turnaround was dizzying.

You were shoved into a room to change, as was Reid.

After you changed, JJ came in and whistled.

"Sheesh, Bun, you look good!"

You laugh and straighten out your jacket, slipping on the heels Spencer bought you today.

"Are those new?"

You nod, "yeah, Spencer said he had some left in his budget."

She shook her head, "Reid must've bought those with his own money."

Your eyes widen, and she laughs, "C'mon, Bun. You need to look at jewelry."

You picked out a pair of dainty, diamond earrings, a matching necklace, and several expensive bracelets that had to be physically screwed onto your wrists.

Once standing in front of Hotch, Emily gave you the wedding bands JJ had picked up.

Yours was a gorgeous gold band with an emerald-cut diamond on top. It was simple, but, God, was it stunning.

You slipped it onto your finger and Reid slipped the simple golden band over his, his hands looking all that much better with the ring on it. It makes your mouth water just thinking about his fingers.

You quickly shake your head. No. You hate Spencer Reid. Nothing will change that.

Hotch gives you and Reid strict instructions on how to talk to Adam, and then he's sending you in.

"Sell it," Aaron says, "this might be our only shot."

You give him a curt nod, linking your arm with Reid and smiling as you walk into the interrogation room.

Spencer looks down at you with a look of passion you've never seen before. One that you aren't convinced could be fake.

As soon as you looked at Adam, you could tell there was something off. He was picking at the skin around his nails and chewing on the skin of his lips where they looked raw and painful.

As you sat down in front of him, Spencer was the first to speak.

"Who is this guy again, babe?"

You held back the shock in your face at the pet name as he put a hand on your thigh. You made a point to twist the wedding ring on your finger before opening the files in front of you.

"Adam?" You look up at the man in front of you, "are you Adam?" He nods, and you hum, "Who are you, exactly?"

Reid smiles and looks to you, "Play nice." He slides the files over to him, "Harvard law, that's impressive. Did you apply or did your father buy your way in?"

Adam's eyes narrowed, "I applied and got accepted. I was a prodigy."

You smile subtly, knowing you and Reid have already gotten him to show more of himself than he had to anyone else.

You look at your fake husband and laugh, "I don't think you can decide that you're a prodigy." You look Adam up and down, "my husband, here," you place your hand on Spencer's shoulder, looking at him as if he hung the moon and stars, "he is a prodigy. How old were you when you got your first PhD?"

"Seventeen," he laughed humbly, looking at you, "you flatter me."

You smile softly as Reid squeezes your thigh, something Adam could not see and, therefore, was unnecessary. You look at Spencer, but he refuses to meet your eyes.

You turn back to Adam, pulling out the photos of the four bodies and showing them to him, "have you met these people before?"

He shakes his head, "I've never seen those people before."

"Really?" You ask calmly, "You've never, ever, seen Andrea Haskins?"

Adam shakes his head.

"Never, not once, seen her husband, Kent Haskins, either?"

He shakes his head again.

Reid sits up straighter, linking his hands together on the table in front of him, "you received a pretty generous amount of money from him every month since... August?"

You mentally thank Garcia for that information, and mentally thank Reid for remembering it.

Adam sits up straight, too, but falling shorter than Reid, "I clean their house for them, don't mean I've ever met 'em."

You hum, "I wouldn't let a stranger into our home, would you?"

Reid shakes his head, and Adam gets visibly upset at your interactions. His hands clench to the table ledge, knees bouncing, eyes narrowed.

"Say, Adam," you perk up, "how much bleach do you use per house you clean, about?"

Adam's eyes trained on me, "you're a smart girl," he then looked to Reid, "with an even smarter husband." He spits the words as if they are poison on his tongue, "You do the math."

You stand, smiling softly, "So, not 10 gallons per week?"

Adam shrugs, "If that's your calculation."

You walk closer to the man, sitting on the table next to him and leaning down to him, "And I assume you also have never met the Coleman's?"

He shakes his head.

"Never met anyone in the Coleman family?"

"No. God, you people suck at your job."

"That's actually interesting considering we have video footage of your picking up Lacey Coleman from school last Monday. A family doesn't let a stranger house cleaner pick up their child from school."

Adam's eyes widen, and you know you have him cornered.

"How long had your sister been friends with the Colemans?" Reid interjects.

"Don't you dare talk about her."

"Why not?" Reid asks simply, "Does she bother you?"

"I was going to be a Lawyer, I was going to be successful and make my dad proud of me. Until she ruined it all with her perfect schooling and perfect husband," Adam spits.

"Halley is a pretty successful neurosurgeon, huh? She gets all of daddy's special attention, doesn't she?" You say.

"Get your wife on a leash," Adam says to Reid.

"All you wanted was to feel loved, to hear your dad say he's proud of you," you keep talking, "and you were going to kill him because he wouldn't say it."

"Shut the hell up, bitch!"

"You were getting ready to kill your mom and dad because, hey, why not go straight to the source? Why not kill who made you like this?"

"What if your family pulled your funds for a sibling, huh?" He yells to you and Reid, "How would you feel?"

The room goes silent and Reid allows you to keep talking, keep getting on his nerves.

"His daddy left him when his mom got sick, and my mommy killed herself when I was seven. We worked for our degrees, and we worked even harder for the scholarships that paid for our three PhDs." You hiss, "I would've worked harder to get what I want instead of just expecting it."

"You're a bitch," Adam spit in my face.

"I could be worse. I could take away a little girl's family. I could kill four innocent people out of my frustration and failure."

Reid finally stepped in, grabbing your hand softly and pulling you back to your side of the table.

"I didn't kill those people."

"That's not what your body is telling us, Adam." Reid states simply, "You are hurt and still are hurting, I understand that. But now so is Lacey. That's on you."

Adam's lip quivers, "I didn't hurt Lacey! Lacey was at her friend's house!"

Reid rises, grabs your hand gently, and walks to the door, and you follow.

"Hey!" Adam screams, "where are you going? Get back here!"

As soon as the door shuts behind you, you let go of Reid's hand. He turns to you and watches your expression shift.

"Good work, Bun."

You nod, and he looks like he's about to say something else, mouth opening, but then Hotchner walks in.

"Great work.”

You smile at Aaron, and Reid stares at you with something dark behind his eyes. He looks nervous, and hungry, and concerned, and certain.

"We'll be heading back in 30. Wrap up. Great job, Doctors."

***

On the plane, you and Reid are still in your "Rich Couple" personas, not having enough time to change out.

You sit near the back of the plane, headphones in, and reading Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience by William Blake.

"Little Lamb who made thee, Dost though know who made thee?"

You hear the words of "The Lamb" spoken, causing you to take out your headphones and look to the source: Spencer Reid.

He sits across from you as you ask, "You read Blake?"

"Blake to Poe to Plath, I don't mind."

You narrow your eyes at him, "what do you want?"

"Really?" He asks, "We can't just have a nice moment?"

You raise your eyebrows at him, "Not you and me. We don't have nice moments."

His facial features soften, and he sighs, "I'm sorry for acting so harsh toward you. You didn't deserve that."

You're shocked by his statement, "Pardon me?"

He runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, "I was scared, Bun. I was the smart one. I convinced myself that was all I could be," his breath hitches and his eyes connect with mine, "I thought if there was someone smarter, more sociable, and nicer than me, they wouldn't need me anymore."

"Spence..." you start, and you realize it's the first time you've called him his nickname.

He notices it, too, eyes shifting from one of concern to one of understanding, "You're incredibly smart. You're kind, and you're fun to be around. I'm sorry it took me so long to notice that."

You nodded, "thank you."

He nods and goes to stand.

"Wait." You quickly speak up and he freezes, "What's... um..." you stutter, "what's your favorite Poe?"

Reid smiles, sitting back down, "Annabel Lee."

You smile, "Gold-Bug."

He laughs, "Really?"

And you nod.

****

"Let's go get drinks!" Garcia announces as you and the team wrap up your paperwork, and you laugh.

"I don't think so," you smile, "not tonight."

"C'mon, Bun," Garcia whines "It'll be fun!"

Reid suddenly looked at you, eyes darker, eyes that held you tight in a grip, "Yeah, c'mon, Bun." He says the name with a sensuality you had never heard before. It sent a shiver down your spine, "it'll be fun."

You look at him, taking in a shaky breath, "I.. uh, don't have a ride."

"I'll drive you," Reid says simply, and the rest of the team just stares at the interaction.

Things have changed since the interrogation room, you know that, but did you want to be alone with him already?

You look at him, his messy hair, his stubble, and chocolate brown eyes, and your pussy clenches around nothing.

You find yourself nodding, mouth too dry to speak.

"Good," he smiles, "follow me."

Your team watches with uncertainty as you walk off with Spencer, and it's almost like they've seen the change, too.

No, they're profilers. They know Reid had you wrapped around his finger while reciting Blake.

They also knew Spencer had been pining after you since you wore those hot pink heels on the first day of work. But they didn't need to tell you that.

Reid guides you to the elevator, and you comply silently. Once the door closes and it's just you two, you turn to Spencer.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" He responds simply.

You turn to face him, "why are you being so nice to me?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Bun."

You roll your eyes, "yeah right."

The elevator doors open, and he walks you to his car, opening the door for you.

"Thank you," you smile cautiously, and he nods.

He sits down in the driver's seat and pulls out of his parking spot. One of his hands rests on the wheel, the other placed on the gearshift. His eyes focus on the road, but they occasionally slide over to you. The silence- although comfortable- practically kills you.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

He glances over at you, and he smirks, "I want to."

You look at him, "why?"

He shrugs, "spent too long not doing it."

You nod and glance out the window, just as Spencer puts the car in park.

As you step out of the car, you hear Derek and Emily from behind you, making a show of letting you know they are also here.

You walked over to Morgan and hugged him.

"Hey, Bunny," he smiles and kisses your forehead, "first rounds on me tonight, sweetheart."

You laugh, "thank god! Need a handsome man to buy me some drinks!"

Reid scoffs from behind you, but you shrug it off, assuming it was about something Emily had said.

It wasn't.

As you walk into the bar with Derek's arm around your shoulder, you quickly make your way to the table with Garcia and Rossi.

"What are you drinking?" You ask Garcia, gesturing to her hot pink drink in front of her, garnished with cotton candy, strawberries on sticks, and a big, twisty straw.

Gracia's eyes widen, "oh my gosh! You've never been here before??" You shake your head, and she squeals with excitement, "Okay, so, it's called the Cotton Candy Chameleon. It's basically strawberry vodka and coconut rum with strawberry soda! Look!" She picks up the cotton candy and places it into the liquid, watching as it rapidly dissolves, "did you see that?!"

"That's why it's called a Chameleon," Derek laughs, arm still around you, "want me to get you one?"

You nod happily, "and a shot of Titos? I'll pay you back!"

Morgan winks at you, "It's on me, Bun."

As he walks toward the bar, you and Garcia continue to chat about anything and everything, her childhood cat, where you grew up, and how Garcia got put on the team.

"You were so good at being bad," you laugh, swirling your third Cotton Candy Chameleon that Morgan brought over to you, "that the FBI gave you a job instead of jail time?"

She nodded, giggling, "Pretty much. Are you going to take that shot?" She points to the round Rossi had bought for the table.

You laugh, quickly picking it up and downing it, "god!"

"Woah!" Morgan laughs, hands catching your hips to keep you steady, "careful, Bunny."

You feel eyes glaring into you, and you trace them to Reid sitting at the bar. He has his elbow on the bar, leaning into his hand as he watches you with a look of unhappiness.

You roll your eyes, finishing the final chug of your drink, and placing a hand on Morgan's chest.

"You're warm," you say with a goofy smile, and Derek laughs.

"Oh, really, sweetheart?"

You nod, leaning further into him as his hands rest on your hips.

You make eye contact with him before you smirk and push away, "I'm going to get another drink."

"Hey, Bun!" You turn around to Rossi, his empty glass raised to you, "Get me another old fashioned."

You nod, smiling at the older man, and waltzing to the bar, right next to Reid.

"You having fun, Bunny?" He asks, voice low.

"Yes, sir." You smile, waiting for the bartender to walk over.

He sucks in a breath at the title, "You sure are touchy with Morgan," he grits out, staring at you, not quite your eyes, but something a little bit lower.

You scoff, "What's it to you?"

"Nothing." He spits, eyes connecting with yours, pupils taking over the brown of his eyes.

The bartender finally comes up to you, a cute girl in a black, low-cut tank top and some black, short shorts. She has short blonde hair, barely reaching her shoulders and it's curled up and pinned back so her hair is framing her face.

She was gorgeous, actually.

"What can I do for ya?" She asks, shaking a drink before breaking the seal and pouring it into a glass.

You tell her your order, and that it's on David Rossi's tab, and she nods.

Then she turns to Spencer, "What about you handsome?" She says it sultry like she's trying to seduce him, "Need another? I'd be happy to get you somethin' else."

Your eyes narrow on her, a deep, red-hot feeling forming in your gut. She doesn't see your stare though, completely focused on Spencer, leaning over the counter so her cleavage is on full display, biting her lip and twirling her hair.

You decided then and there that you hated her.

Reid tells her that he's okay, water if she insists, and when she comes back with his water, she hands him a napkin with ink scribbled on it, "I get off in 45 if you're interested."

"He's not."

The words come out of your lips faster than you could think, your brain taking longer to catch up with your mouth.

"Pardon?" She asks you, calm and calculating, "Didn't know you could decide that for him."

You laugh cockily, "Oh?" You act fast pulling yourself into Reid's lap before he can protest, but his hands wrap around you, trapping you where you sat, "I think I can."

Reid looked at the bartender, then his eyes trailed back to you, "Sorry, Brooklyn, I'm spoken for," his eyes darkened, a sly smile rising on his lips.

The bartender walks away to work on your drinks, and you turn all the way to face Reid.

"What are you doing, Bun?" He asks, voice low. You shift your hips and he hums, grabbing your waist to stop the movement, "Stop that. Talk to me."

You whimper, leaning into his chest, "You were really going to choose some bottle blonde over me?" Your words come out harsh, but it's also the first time you've said what's truly on your mind in front of Reid.

His eyes land back on Brooklyn, and he smirks, "She's pretty, I'll give her that," he looks down at you, right as the bartender places the drinks in front of you, "But you? You're on a whole different level, Bun."

You blush and shake your head, just as Brooklyn walks back over to hand you your drinks.

As she sets them down she says, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you two were a thing."

You quickly shake your head, "Don't worry about it," you smile, "neither did he."

"In my defense," Spencer laughs, his lips close to your ear, "I didn't know you were an option. If I had, there wouldn't have been a competition."

You shiver when you feel his breath on your neck, "yeah, right. You've hated me since I joined the BAU."

His eyes widened, "Hated you?"

You nod softly, a little confused by the question.

"Hated isn't the word I would use," He laughed.

"What is?" You ask quietly.

He leans his head side to side, as if pondering the best way to answer, "obsessed? Intimidated?" He looked at you, a small smirk playing on his lips, "Lusted?"

Your eyes widened, "what?"

He shrugs, a hand falling to your thigh, thumb drawing circles, "The way you are entrances me. The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you exist." He leans his head down so his eyes meet yours, "I knew I couldn't do anything about that, so I stayed away. I guess it came off as hatred."

The hand that wasn't on your leg reached up to pluck the cotton candy off of your drink, opening his mouth and letting the sugar melt on his tongue.

"Mmm," he hummed, eyes still locked with yours, "so sweet, Bun."

Your jaw dropped slightly, thighs clenching, and he grips your flesh, "Nuh, uh. What's wrong?" He chuckles as you whine against him, "Use your words."

You sit up, straightening and sliding off of his lap, "You're a sick freak, Spencer Reid."

He licked his lips, eyes trailing down your body, "I'll bring Rossi his drink, wait by the door."

You cross your arms over your chest, but your heart is pounding so loudly you can hear it in your ears, "what makes you think I listen to you?"

"Oh, Bunny," his finger lifts your chin, "I'm a profiler. Absolutely everything tells me that you'll listen to me."

You roll your eyes and scoff, "And if they ask where we're going?"

A devilish smirk flashes across his lips, and he leans toward your ear, and you can feel his breath on your skin, "you already told them you're tired," he pauses, "I'm going to fuck you to sleep, Doctor."

You suck in a shuddering breath, eyes glazing over as he chuckles, pulling away from you.

You take a step back, mumbling, "Hurry back."

He smiles widely, pupils practically taking over his chocolate eyes, "good girl."

You suck in a breath as he turns on his heel, walking over to the team as you wait by the door. Penelope frowns at you, waving, and Emily blows you a kiss.

Rossi looks at you calmly, and Derek raises a smooth eyebrow with a smirk.

Spencer walks back to you, grabbing your arm as you walk to the car.

Once you get back to his black Dodge Challenger, he presses you against the door, “How drunk are you right now?”

“From one to ten?” You ask, voice quiet, Reid looking at you like you’re a meal.

He nods, hands gripping your hips, “Goddamn it, Bun,” he hisses, “Yes, one to ten.”

“Four,” you answer, and his lips slam into yours in a frenzy.

It’s all tongue and teeth like he couldn’t wait a single second longer to taste you. Like it would kill him.

Your chest arches into his, hands going to his shoulders, holding on for life in the bruising kiss.

He pulls away, his eyes nearly black, eyes filled with an undeniable hunger, and it makes you shiver.

A smirk comes over his face as he steps away from you, opening your door, “get in.”

You don’t have to be told twice, stepping into the car, carefully so you don’t fall in the emerald heels he bought you.

With his own money.

“Spencer?”

He turns on the car and pulls out of the parking spot, “Yeah?”

You look at him, studying how you are both still dressed like a posh-rich couple, “You bought me these heels.”

He nods, chuckling and placing his hand on your thigh, “Excellent observation.”

You shudder at the contact, “with your own money.”

He smirks, “Who told you that?”

“JJ?”

“Ah,” he laughs, “Yeah, green’s your color.”

You raise an eyebrow, “How did you decide that?”

“A few weeks ago you wore this emerald green sweater,” he says, “It looked so goddamn good on you.”

You recall the memory, smiling softly, “Is that why you were avoiding me? You thought I looked pretty?”

His voice gets stern, face serious when he looks over at you, “Stop talking, Bun.”

A belly laugh escapes your mouth, head thrown back as you cackle, “I thought I pissed you off somehow!”

He gives your thigh a sharp squeeze, “I don’t think I’ve ever been genuinely angry with you.”

You sit dumbfounded, a quiet oh slipping past your closed lips.

He looks at you and parks the car, “I’ve been upset, frustrated, and God have I been irritated with you,” he turns to look at you, pulling his hand away from your leg, “But I have never been angry with you.”

He unbuckles quickly as you stare at him in surprise, and he gets out of the car, rushing around to open your door, “hurry up.”

You stumble out of the car, and he puts a hand on the small of your back, ushering you into his apartment.

You don’t get a chance to fully appreciate the chaotic charm of Spencer Reid’s place. As soon as you notice the books piled up everywhere, he spins you around, pressing your back against the door and capturing your lips in another kiss. This kiss is slower and more controlled, with his hands sliding up your sides to your back, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of your neck. You ball his shirt into your hands, pulling him impossibly closer.

“God, Bun, your fucking intoxicating,” he sighs against your lips, hands slipping under your shirt to rest on your bare hips, and you sigh at the contact.

He smirks, trailing wet kisses down your neck, gently grazing his teeth over your pulse point, and you moan, “there she is,” he mumbles, “been wanting to hear you make those pretty little sounds for a while.”

You whimper, “Shut up.”

He laughs, tugging you away from the door, and guiding you into his bedroom.

You shed off your suit jacket, and he rips your shirt over your head before pushing you down on his mattress. You gasp as you fall, Spencer's hands quickly move to your slacks, unbuttoning them and looking up at you with eyes so fiery you feel your whole body set aflame.

“Yes,” you say, noticing the silent question Spencer is asking you, “please, yes.”

He smirks, kissing the skin just above the waistline of your pants before tugging them down, and you lift your hips to help him slide them off.

He throws the items into the corner of his room, sitting up and looking at you: dressed in nothing but a black bra and matching panties, his eyes darken. He slides his hands down your body, and he practically growls when he feels your sopping wet cunt.

“God dammit, you’re so wet Bunny,” he says, his finger sliding over the soaked fabric of your panties, “such a silly girl, thinking I could want anyone but you.”

You whimper at the comment, and he leans down to kiss your upper thigh, slowly spreading your legs apart with the palms of his hands. Your legs widen as he settles in, kissing slowly up and around them, licking, sucking, and biting until you’re littered with heart-shaped marks.

“Gonna show you how much I wanted you,” he hisses, his hot breath fanning over your covered pussy, “gotta let you know how dumb you are for thinking I was anyone’s but yours.”

You whimper shamelessly at the comment, your legs trying to close, desperate for any kind of friction.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you, Bunny?” he laughs, looking up at you from between your thighs, “You like it when I tell you just how stupid you are? How fuckin’ useless that little brain of yours is?”

You nod rapidly, and Spencer licks a thick stripe over your clothed core. You let out a loud gasp, your head lolling to the side at the much-appreciated attention. He pushes your underwear to the side, diving into your pussy like a man starved. Spencer kitten licks your clit before pulling it into his mouth and sucking harshly, and your back arches from the bed.

“Fuck, Spence,” you moan, hands shooting into his hair, “so fuckin good, feels so good.”

“Mmm, there you go, baby,” he says, his index finger circling your entrance, “let me know how good I’m doing,” and his finger slowly pushes into you as his mouth reconnects to your hot skin.

Spencer Reid was talented with his tongue, but, god, his fingers were a whole other story.

He curled his finger toward him, finding that sweet, gummy spot inside you almost immediately, abusing it before inserting another and scissoring his fingers.

“You’re so tight,” he mumbles against your cunt, and a loud moan slips from your lips, your hands tangling into his hair as you desperately try to grind against his tongue, but he puts a hand over your stomach, holding you down.

He continues his torment, fingers working you open and his tongue moving rapidly through your folds. His fingers drag down your front wall slowly, and you can’t help his name slipping off of your tongue.

He smirks, looking up at you, “Atta girl, Bunny. Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”

You moan loudly as he continues his torment. Your legs start to shake, his tongue swirling circles around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and one of your hands grabs your breast to ground you. Your breathing gets ragged, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from screaming.

“You gonna cum for me, Bunny?” He asks, voice low, “Gonna cum all over my fingers?”

You nod, and he tsk’s.

“Without asking?” He says, a smirk on his perfect lips, slowing his fingers down and moving to kiss the insides of your thighs, “Not even going to ask after I’ve worked so hard for you?”

You throw your head back with a groan, “Please, Spencer!”

“Please what?”

You consider slapping him, telling him to stop treating you like some desperate slut, but in your current state? You might as well be.

“Please let me cum! I’ve been so good for you, Spence, I’ll be so good!”

“Yeah? You going to be my good girl?” he asks, eyes locking with yours, eyebrows raised, as he speeds up his fingers inside of your spasming pussy, “You promise?”

“Promise! Please, Spence, let me cum for you!”

He pauses for a second like he’s thinking, the smirk on his face growing, “cum for me, Bunny,” and he watches your face, jaw dropped as you orgasm around his fingers, your slick coating his palm and dripping onto the sheets below you as he works you through your bliss.

Once you come down, though, his fingers don't stop moving, his thumb moving to rub tight circles on your pulsing clit, “You’ve got another one in you,” he says as you bite your lip and your eyes water slightly, “C’mon, baby, you can give me another, right?”

You nod your head, your lip tugged between your teeth, your legs still shaking. He doesn’t give you time to breathe, just continues to suck and lick on your clit like it’s what he was made for, and, before you know it, your eyes clench shut as you rapidly approach another orgasm.

Little whimpers leave your lips, and Spencer chuckles slightly, “My poor girl, so desperate for me. I can tell you’re getting close again, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, and he speeds up his pace, your jaw dropping into a silent ‘o’.

He kisses your stomach, holding your shaking legs with his free hand, “Give it to me, Bun.”

And you release with reckless ambition, thighs flung open and a hand gripping the sheets for your life as a string of moans leaves your lips. Spencer removes his fingers and moves down to lick up your come, and you have no choice but to whimper. He smirks and pulls away from your cunt, placing his lips hot on your own, and you taste yourself.

“You’re so sweet, Bunny. Sweeter than candy,” he sighs, hands sliding down your chest.

You whimper, forcing your hands into his hair in another soul-crushing kiss, and he chuckles into it.

“Desperate for something?”

And you nod, one hand trailing down the front of his body, grabbing his dick covered by his pants and he groans.

“You want this cock, Baby?” He lifts off of you, sitting with his knees on either side of your body while he quickly undoes the top two buttons of his shirt before deeming it useless and pulling it over his head while your hands make quick work of his pants, pulling off his belt and tugging his pants and boxers down enough to free his aching cock.

You moan at the sight, immediately leaning forward to kiss his tip, before he pushes you back onto the bed.

“Another time, Bun,” he grumbles, “need to feel you around me.”

You moan, nodding and lining him up with your quivering pussy, and he pushes forward just slightly, enough for his tip to pop inside of you, and the groan that leaves his lips is pornographic.

“She’s so fuckin’ tight, baby, can feel her squeezing me.”

You whimper, “please! More!”

He chuckles darkly at your request, “yeah? You need something?”

You roll your hips forward, pushing him in a little further before he slaps the outside of your thigh harshly.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart. I’m gonna take my time with you.”

He emphasizes his words by pulling out slightly, and pushing back in, fucking you with just his tip, and a desperate gasp leaves your lips.

“Look at you,” he groans, continuing his torturous motions, “so desperate for my cock. Such a nasty little thing.”

And the thrusts harshly, abruptly sheathing his whole cock inside of you, and your head throws back.

He has the audacity to laugh at you, quickening his pace, each thrust hitting causing him to hit your cervix in a blissfully painful way, your eyes rolling back, begging for something. You're not quite sure what, though.

“So fucked out you can't think straight?” He coos, his pace never slowing, “if I knew this was all it took to shut you up I’d have done it a long time ago.”

And you whine at the thought.

He raises an eyebrow, “You like that idea, don't you, Bunny?” And you nod.

Suddenly, he pulls out completely, slapping your thigh again, “Roll over. Hands and knees.”

You quickly comply, supporting yourself on shaky arms and legs, and he trails a hand up your spine before pushing down, forcing your chest to the bed below you.

He groans as you arch your back, quickly pushing himself back inside your sopping cunt.,

“Such pretty holes you got here, baby,” he whispers, spitting onto your asshole as one of his thumbs spreads out the lubricant, causing your breath to hitch.

“Wanna fill both of them for you, can I do that?”

And you nod recklessly, your head bouncing against the pillows at the speed and power of his thrusts, and he takes your permission to push his thumb into your virgin ass, and the moan that rips through your throat is almost humiliating.

“You like being so full of me, don't you, Bunny?”

And you groan out, “yes! Fuck, I’m so close, Spencer!”

He laughs as your cunt starts quivering around his cock, his tip bullying that sweet spot inside of you.

“I know sweet thing, give it to me. Cum around my cock.”

With permission, you release around him, your pussy clenched around his dick and your ass squeezing his thumb, but he keeps fucking you through it.

His free hand laces through your hair, pulling your head back as you whimper in overstimulation.

“Take it,” he groans, mumbling more to himself as his cock twitches inside of you, “come on, take it like the dirty whore you are. Love having me fill both your nasty holes, fuck.”

His rhythm falters, and he thrusts one or two more times before spilling inside of you, fucking his seed deeper inside of you.

Once he calms down, he slowly removes his thumb before carefully pulling out of your pussy, and you whimper at the empty feeling.

“Stay here,” he whispers, kissing your hip before scrambling to the bathroom for a warm, damp washcloth.

He gently wipes you off, murmuring about how good you did for him, saying he’s proud of you before he helps you roll over onto your back.

He chuckles at the goofy smile on your lips, eyes tired and droopy, and he pushes the hair that had matted to your skin with sweat out of your face.

“You okay?” He asks, voice low, and you nod happily.

“‘M perfect.”

“Good,” he smiles, pulling the comforter over you and cuddling up to your spent body.

You lay in silence for a moment, happy and relaxed in his arms, before you speak up.

“So, you never hated me?”

“Jesus Christ, Bun,” he sighs exasperatedly, “go to sleep.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut

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just-some-random-blogger · 16 hours ago

Text

Bruhhhh. I read this just as I woke up and it left me so fucking hit and bothered. 😭😭😭😭 I legit di my chores and was in the middle of watching a movie when I realized I still had yet to come back to this and I just want to say I am not the same person I was 1 fic ago fucking hellll what the fuck.

You say a quick prayer to the Mother as you gaze at the moon, praying for your sister’s safety during her pregnancy; praying that this one would carry to term and that the Seven would bless your sweet niece Rhaenyra with a little brother or sister.

ARRYN READER?! you had me at this honestly. I have not yet read an arryn!reader fic and it's so girlie pop refreshing we love to see it

She better than me. I simply would have jumped him again

As per usual, though, your ever-observant husband was one step ahead of you. His toned arms wrap around you and pull you up, until you’re sitting in his lap, your legs on either side of his muscular thighs as you straddle him, balancing yourself by holding onto the rim of the tub as his hands remain on your waist, “It is the prince, is it not?” He asks slowly, carefully, his eyes never leaving your own.

First of all [obscene noises], second of all HES SO BIG DICK ENERGY SUCH A DADDY SUCH A GIVER CUZ WHAT DO YOU MEAN IS IT THE PRINCE HELLO

“Husband,” you gasp, eyes squeezed shut as you mewl into his neck, the lavender scent of your bath oils filling your lungs, “Oh, Gods!” You moan, your aching bud catching on the head of his cock.

FUCKING hell fuck

“I imagine I shall see Prince Daemon in the training yard today,” he had softly cooed, a warm hand tenderly caressing your cheek, “If I do, I shall speak with him about our…offer. See what he says.”

😭😭😭😭😭 HE SO JDJDJDJDKSKSKSKKSKS I WOULD SUCK HIS DICK LIKE YOURE GONNA GET ME THE PRINCE FOR MY BIRTHDAY FUCK I WOULD PAY TO SEE WHAT THEY TALKED ABOUT FUCKKKKKK

What if he thinks me perverse?

🧍‍♀️ bestie. That men bred not 1 but 2 of his nieces

You know this is nonsensical — [...]

YEAH calm ur tits

“Konir sagon ñuha gaomilaksir,” a deep, smooth voice answers from behind you. You gasp, whipping your head around just in time to see Daemon step into the courtyard, dressed in his familiar dark metal armor, Dark Sister hanging from his belt, “Ñuha riña.” He nods simply. (That would be my job.) (My lady.)

THE WAY THIS HAD ME SCREAMING (CREAMING) AHHHHH

“To ride Syrax!” She giggles, “She’s getting big and the keepers say she is almost ready!”

🥺🥺🥺 my baby girl. My baby girl

“Nothing to worry your pretty head about,” Daemon chides, shaking his head with a small smile, “Just some news from the council, nothing that would be of interest to you,” he continues quickly, waving his hand dismissively before nodding his head to the old stone archway that leads back inside the Keep, “I need to speak with your aunt quickly, run along to the dragonpit. I’m sure Syrax would appreciate a treat before we begin training.”

HES SO COCKY AND FULL OF HIMSELF. I NEED TO BE FULL OF HIS COCK

“Ser Harwin approached me earlier this morning in the yard,” he starts, eyes sweeping over your body like a predator eyeing its prey, “Vēttan nyke iā jiōragon.” He smirks, watching you blush under his gaze. (He made me an offer.)

I WANT TO KNOW I WANT TO BE A FLY ON THE WALL SO FUCKING BAD. HE MADE ME AN OFFER GOT ME LIKE

(I am legally obligated to say that I fucking hate this gif but love it so much every time I use it it's so fucking horrible and hilarious I loathe it HAHH)

“Consider this my agreement,” he says proudly, gaze straying to the neckline of your gown, “I’ve been asked to arrive at your chambers at the hour of the owl,” his lilac eyes meet yours once again, “Is this acceptable, naughty girl?”

GNAWING AT THE FUCKIN BARS OF MY FUCKING ENCLOSURE HELLO?????

“There’s no need to be so formal,” he chides, reaching forward to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, “Certainly not with the way we’ll be so intimately acquainted later this evening,” he steps back again, still smirking, “You may call me Daemon…or sir.” He adds, noting the way it makes you squirm.

HES SUCH A LIL SHIT SUCH DIPSHIT ENERGY IM GONNA WRECK IT

“Ser Harwin,” Daemon drawls, looking your husband up and down as he strides into the room, cocky as usual. Finally, his eyes land on you and you can’t help the small fizzle that takes hold in your belly at the way he stops suddenly in his tracks, his eyes glazing over as he looks you over, “My lady,” he says softly, nodding at you as he stalks closer to where you stand, feet still planted firmly in the carpet, “Ȳdra daor ao jurnegon gevie.” (Don’t you look beautiful.)

NSJJSNDJSKSKSN IM SO FUCKING SORRY FOR REQUOTING YOUR ENTIRE FIC BACK BUT THE IMAGE OF DAEMON WALKING IN FUNDAMENTALLY SAYING SUP BRUV & HEY BEAUTIFUL IS SO FKDKKDNSNSNSNSJ

“He says I am beautiful,” you tell your husband, translating the Valyrian for him, an act that is second nature for you now.

KSJJSSJS I LOVE HOW THEY LOVEEEE MDKDKSNJSJSKSJSJ NAURRR 😫😫😫😫😫

“Oh, hush,” the prince dismisses, prying his hand from Harwin’s grasp with a tsk, “She’s enjoying it, naughty little thing.”

“You told me, yes,” Daemon interrupts, giving your husband a pointed look before shifting his gaze back to you, “However, it is her nameday. I believe she should get to decide.”

HES SO SASSY I WANT TO KNOW HOW HARWIN PROPOSITIONED HIS FUCKING WIFE TO HIM PLEASEEE

At that remark, Daemon looks at you with great interest, making your cheeks heat up as Harwin helps you remove your robe, draping it over a nearby chair. He turns around quickly when he hears you gasp, only to see the prince laving his tongue over your nipple again, mouthing at it through the paper thin lace of your nightgown, as one of his hands busies itself with your other breast, palming at it desperately; his other hand visible through the thin material of your gown as his fingers tease at your center, brushing through the slick folds with practiced ease.

Just as your husband's fingers speed up within you, Daemon traces tighter and tighter circles around your eager bud, his mouth growing more insistent on your breast as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth, sucking it harshly into the warmth of his mouth.

DONT MIND ME I JUST HAVE TO REQUOTE ALL THE SCENES THAT MADE ME CREAM MY PANTS

“What a naughty, dirty girl,” the prince teases, fingers only leaving your bud once your legs had started to twitch from the overstimulation, “Peaking over the fingers of two men,” you whimper as your husband carefully removes his fingers from you, face flushing when he immediately takes them into his mouth, licking off the evidence of your arousal, “No better than a common Flea Bottom whore.”

🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡YES SIR WHATEVER YOU SAY SIR THANK YOU SIR SORRY SIR

“She is a good girl,” Harwin corrects him, hands lovingly stroking over your body, “For peaking exactly when I commanded her to. Such a good, obedient girl.”

I WOULD CREAM MY PANTS HES SUCH A GIVER HES SO SOFT HES SUCH A SOFT DOM I WOULD GIVE HIM 100 BABIES

“Please…” you start softly, finally finding your voice, “Please, husband, sir, please may I have my nameday spankings?”

SCREAMMINNGGGGGGGGGGGG SHE LIKE ME FRRRR SHES SO ME WHO IS THIS DIVAAA

“Pretty little cunt,” Daemon quips, smirking when he hears you whimper as he spreads your cheeks apart, hands gripping you hard enough that there are sure to be fingerprint sized bruises, “Wetter than the Narrow Sea.” He remarks, chuckling as he runs a thumb over the slit of your heat, marveling at the way your slick remains connected to his thumb by a thin thread for a second as he pulls his hands away.

“N-no,” you say tearfully, taking deep breaths to calm yourself, “I want to, please.”

SHES SO ME A FULL BLOWN MASOCHIST

Harwin has Daemon pushed against the wall next to the bed, one of his forearms pinned down across his chest to hold him back; Daemon looks enraged, his teeth bared as he stares down your husband, “Unhand me, Strong.” He growls.

I WOULD CRY BUT ALSO TOUCH MYSELF BUT ALSO CRY AND CREAM MY PANTS AND SO MANY EMOTIONS BIG DICK HARWIN COMING THROUGH

Daemon whimpers.

DAEMONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN FUCKIN GGG HEELLL DAEMON MY BRAT SUB HES SO ME I WOULD NOT MAKE IT I WOULD MOAN AND BEND OVER AND BEG AND

He’s quiet for a second more before a teasing, nearly sinister smile slowly spreads across his face, “She likes being spanked, you say,” he starts, putting more pressure on Daemon’s throat, “And you, your grace, like being choked, don’t you? Nothing more than a common Flea Bottom whore, right?”

GAGGGEEDDDDD JAW ON THE FLOOR HARWINS SUCH A GOOD DOM HARD DOM STERN DOM SOFT DOM I NEED HIM PLS FUCKING HELL

You’ve never heard your husband use that tone before, so deep and threatening, it makes your thighs clench, a soft breath escaping your lips.

GIRL YOU AND ME FR MOVE OVER IM TRYNA GET RAILED BY FUCK AND FUCKER

“Come now,” Harwin shoves him a little, just enough to make him jump, “Answer properly.”

Me and daemon, except one of us is more in denial I wonder who it is:

“Such a lovely, precious girl,” he grunts, his eyes nearly black but still shining with adoration, “Gods, princess, you’re perfect like this.”

NFJDNDNDN I LOVE THE DEGRADATION NEXT TO THE PRAISE I THINK IM PREGNANT WHAT

“Seven—“ Daemon chokes, hands gripping your waist enough to bruise. You can’t help but ruck your hips against him, your bud dragging deliciously against the barely there hair on his chest, “Fuck you, Strong.” He grunts, legs twitching as Harwin meanly squeezes at his length.

IM SAYIN DAEMON MOVE THE FUCK OVER IF YOURE NOT GONNA GET YO ASS FUCKED I WILL

“Please, let me fuck your pretty wife,” Daemon sighs, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, making you gasp and rut your hips against his stomach again, “Please, ser.”

🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤 head empty no thoughts I think is should be stuffed somewhere else

The man below you groans, the wild look returning to his eyes as you start bouncing more frantically, “Fucking perfect,” he grunts, wrapping an arm around the small of your back and pulling you down to him, your chests pressing together, “Perfect, wet, fuck, wet little cunt.” He groans into your neck, hands gripping at your ass again.

MMMM GOOODDD SOUPPPP AM I BEING SO SI ANNOYING GOOD

“Ooh, she’s getting close,” Harwin observes, lightly tugging at his length as he watches you come undone atop Daemon, “Don’t you want her to soak your cock?”

Literally creaming

“Aren’t you going to ask my permission?” Harwin teases, smirk spreading across his face at the frustrated groan that leaves Daemon. “You need my permission to make her peak,” your husband says, his gravelly tone making you shiver as you lose yourself, “Beg for it.”

SWEATING SO MUCH IM SO HOT AND BOTHERED AND HANDMSKNSNSN HELLO

He laughs, kissing the top of your head, “You need not thank me, princess,” he says tiredly, his choice of pet name making your heart skip a beat, “The pleasure was mine.”

FUCKKKKKKKK DAEMONNN SCREAMING

“Fuck her,” Daemon says suddenly, his eyes scanning over Harwin, “I wish to see her break.”

JAW ON THE FLOOR YOU DO NOT HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT ME YOU DO NOT HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT ME WHAT HE FUCKING SAID

“Fuck,” he grunts, rutting into you as you squirm beneath him, “I swear to the Seven you feel better every time.” He praises, looking down at where his cock disappears into you, marveling at the way your cunt shines in the light of the many candles placed around your chambers.

WHAT IF THIS EAS MY LAST STRAW IM LITERALLY TOO FUCKED UP IN THE HEAD I MAY BE OVULATING THIS MAY BE WHY IM SO AFFECTED BY THIS HELLO

A second later, he is leaning down again, his lips nearly connecting with yours as he spits into your waiting mouth, sharing Daemon’s seed with you.

When I tell you I SCREAMMMED well I've been screaming but NDKZJNDNSNSNNSNSMSKNS FCUUKFN SUCJNCNDMMDMXUJ DNDNSNSS BARKKINGGGG I WISH I COULD PUT A MEME BUT IM ON MOBILE AND I HAVE ONE LAST CHANCE

“Yes, yes, yes!” You moan in time with each of his thrusts, nodding your head wildly as you thrash within his grasp, pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

She's so me 🫦💅😋

“Watch as I claim her,” he commands Daemon, tangling a hand into his silvery hair, pointing his gaze exactly where he wants it — where the two of you connect, “Watch as I breed our princess.”

“Vaogenka riña,” Daemon drawls, his hands grasping one of your legs, massaging the muscle of your calf as your foot rests delicately on the center of his chest, “Taking pleasure from watching your husband with another.” (Dirty girl.)

I never said I was more than a hole

Daemon kisses you, much sweeter than he had before, “Hen rhinka, dārilaros.” He smiles, picking you up by the backs of your legs, making you squeal with laughter as he carries you over to the tub, sitting on the edge with you on his lap as Harwin prepares the bath, just the way you like. (Of course, princess.)

This was so self indulgent I may have to reread this because fuck and I don't like rereading stuff cos my brain isn't wired like that but fuckkkkkkkkkk FUCKKKKKKKKKKK AND ITS 11K WORDS BUT ITS NOT DRAGGING AT ALL FUCKKKKKK it so good lobotomy me rn

Hour of the Owl

summary: there's only one thing you want for your nameday and your sweet husband is more than happy to let you have it

pairing: dom!harwin strong x sub!reader x switch!daemon targaryen

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors go away!), afab reader, reader is described as having some targaryen features (white hair, lilac eyes) but no other physical descriptors are mentioned, threesome, oral sex (f & m receiving), handjobs, piv sex, brief spitting, cum play, brief breeding kink, choking, spanking, daemon ignoring the rules, fingering, breast/nipple play, hair pulling, facesitting, very brief mention of miscarriage (world building only, does not directly affect the reader), praise kink, degradation, aftercare included, some fluff, "good cop/bad cop" trope, hair pulling, creampie, bi!daemon and harwin (they're at least experimenting asdfgh), daemon whimpering!!! i repeat, daemon whimpering!!!

word count: 11.8k (genuinely HOW)

a/n: this is dirty, y'all, i won't lie. this is filthy, filthy stuff. there's literally about 7.2k words of just pure smut here. gird your loins, this one is a wild ride. godspeed.

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!🌟

A soft breeze blows through the sheer curtains of your chambers, filling the room with the scent of the sweet smelling flowers your older sister had planted in the gardens of the Red Keep a few moons prior. You busy yourself with removing the countless delicate golden pins your ladies had stuck in your hair that morning, silvery hair pooling around your shoulders as you undo braid after braid. Finally, you run your fingers through the last one, lost in thought as you walk out onto your balcony, your feet bare against the cool stone floors.

You sigh as you lean against a stone ledge, looking out over the many fires and torches that light Kings Landing each night, spread out below the Red Keep like a field of stars. You say a quick prayer to the Mother as you gaze at the moon, praying for your sister’s safety during her pregnancy; praying that this one would carry to term and that the Seven would bless your sweet niece Rhaenyra with a little brother or sister.

You smile as you hear the heavy wooden door to your chamber opening, practically skipping to the door as Harwin slips inside, already unbuckling his leather armor.

“My love!” You call happily, giggling at the exaggerated groan he makes as you thud into him, practically attacking him as you wrap your arms around him, “I missed you!” You whine playfully, breathing in his scent as you bury your face in his chest, your cheek pressed against the tunic he wears.

“I missed you too,” he laughs, his hands hooking under the backs of your thighs as he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his middle. He walks you over to your large bed and gently sits you down on the plush fabric, “My sweet little wife,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead before turning around and striding over to the mirror leaning against the wall next to your wardrobe. “What meanness did you busy yourself with today, I wonder?” He questions, smiling adoringly at you over his shoulder.

“No meanness,” you smile, eyes scanning his muscular body as you watch him unbuckle and untie his leathers and tunic; you bite your lip when he finally pulls the tunic over his head, eyes scanning his bare back, lightly tanned with various scars and bruises from his training. You feel a heat building in your belly at the sight of him, which only grows stronger when he turns to face you once more, your eyes roaming over his strong chest and stomach, covered in dark hair that disappears beneath the tops of his trousers. “I simply assisted Aemma in choosing decorations for the princess’s upcoming nameday celebrations,” you start, standing from the bed and making your way over to Harwin, watching for a second as he struggles with the knot at the top of his trousers before you finally push his hands away and begin pulling at the strings yourself, “Then I aided her in welcoming some new maids, worked more on my needlepoint, and responded to the letter from our mother.” You shrug, finally pulling the ties free before returning to the bed.

“A busy day indeed,” he smirks, running a hand through his curly hair as he stalks toward you, “Mine was much the same; we started training the new recruits today.”

“My poor husband,” you pout, sitting on your knees at the edge of the bed, “Working so hard.” You coo, aching between your thighs as Harwin places his hands on your waist, feeling his warmth through the thin, nearly translucent Myrish lace of your nightgown. You press a soft kiss to the middle of his chest, the hairs there tickling your lips, before you bring your hands up to his shoulders and begin kneading the skin there, massaging around his neck and shoulders.

He groans appreciatively, letting his eyes slip closed and his head tilt back as he allows himself to savor the feeling for a moment; your sweet hands, so small and delicate compared to his, still send shivers down his spine. He can’t help but think of the first day he saw you – you had looked so ethereal stepping out of your family’s carriage in the courtyard, draped in a fine silk dress in the sky blue color of House Arryn’s coat of arms. You had arrived the day Princess Rhaenyra was born and had made King’s Landing your home ever since.

He had been fond of you from that moment forward, offering to give you tours of the Keep and personally escorting you anytime you ventured from its walls. He had known you for nearly eight years and in all that time, he had yet to find a single fault with you. Were it up to him alone, the two of you would have been married within a week, although you had always joked with him that those were the exact sorts of thoughts you’d expect from the foolhardy teenage boy he was at the time. Eventually, your families finally came to a marriage agreement, Lord Rodrik Arryn pleased with the promise of you one day inheriting Harrenhal with Hawin. He smiles, thinking back to your wedding day, in disbelief that it was nearly a year ago now.

Finally, he opens his eyes once more, finding your mesmerizing lilac ones already gazing back at him. “You are so handsome,” you breathe, fingers tangling in his hair as you lovingly smile at him, “The most beautiful man in all the kingdoms.”

He captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his arms holding you tightly to him, wanting to feel as much of you pressed up against him as possible. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling the sweet smells of the oils you use in your baths, “And you are positively divine, my sweet love,” he murmurs, pulling back to gaze at you once more as he twirls a silvery strand of hair between his fingers, “The Seven have truly blessed me with the most heavenly of creatures.”

You blush, lying back on the bed as he kicks off his trousers, his entire form finally bare to you. Your eyes roam his tanned skin appreciatively as you lean back against your pillows, fingers fiddling with a tie at the front of your dressing gown.

“Would you do me the honor of joining me in the bath, my lady?” he asks, reaching out a hand to help you up from the bed.

“Oh, I would be honored, my handsome knight,” you joke back, kissing his cheek before the two of you make your way over to the bath, separated from the rest of your chambers with a decorated screen you’d gotten from a trip to Dorne many years ago.

You quickly undress, draping your gown over the screen, as Harwin steps into the bath with a hiss, “Seven Hells!” He curses, wincing as his skin adjusts to the water, “Did you have your maids retrieve this water from the belly of the Dragonmont itself?”

You snicker, gently easing yourself into the water at the opposite end of the tub, “After all this time one would think you would know how I take my baths, husband.”

He simply rolls his eyes, finally lowering himself into the rest of the water with a pained groan, much to your amusement, which earns you a splash. The two of you laugh together for a moment and you tell him all about the various decorations you’d chosen for Rhaenyra’s nameday as the two of you quickly wash. Finally, he beckons you over, resting his arms on the rim of the bath as you settle yourself against him, curling into the side of his long, burly body as you lay your head on his chest, creating swirly patterns in the hair on his chest with the point of your finger as you finish describing the decadent flavors you and Aemma had chosen for the cake.

“Speaking of namedays,” he begins, chuckling as he hears you groan, “A certain someone’s nameday is a mere two days away and she has yet to tell me anything she wishes for.”

“I’ve told you,” you start with a sigh, peering up at him, “How am I meant to wish for anything when you spoil me so?”

“I do not spoil you!” He admonishes, a guilty smile tugging at his lips, “I simply give you all that you deserve for being such a sweet little wife.” he teases, punctuating each word of the pet name with a kiss to your forehead and cheeks, making you giggle – his favorite sound in the world. You lay in a comfortable silence for a moment, still tracing various shapes and patterns onto his chest before he speaks again, his voice soft and questioning, “There must be something you long for, my love. Anything you want, simply name it.”

You stay silent for a minute longer, pondering exactly how to voice your thoughts. There was something you wanted, or rather someone — Daemon, the king’s younger brother. Like Harwin, he had caught your eye quickly when you’d first arrived at King's Landing. According to Aemma, Viserys had even been considering betrothing the two of you for a time; though your sister had put a quick stop to that, she had never been the Rogue Prince’s biggest fan.

Yet, still, there was something about him that simply drew you to him, something intriguing in the way he moved, the way he spoke. You loved your husband, more than anything else, but Daemon was…tempting, you couldn’t lie.

You look up at Harwin, still silent as you stare into his soft brown eyes, before looking away again, unsure of how to even broach the topic.

“Husband,” you start, worried he is upset with you, “You must unde–”

“I understand, my little love,” he soothes, pulling you closer to him, relishing the way your breasts press against the firmness of his chest, “You need not explain it to me,” you rest your head on his warm chest, your face buried in his neck, “Lust for him does not do away with your love for me, I know this.” He confirms, gently carding a hand through your hair.

Even with his reassurance, you remain silent for a moment still; this is new territory in your relationship – never before had you seriously considered the possibility of sharing yourself with another, your husband so adoring and protective of you that you never dreamed he would entertain the thought.

“You…wish to share me in this way? Truly?” You question, heart skipping a beat when you feel his cock beginning to harden between your legs.

“I admit I was wholly against the idea at first,” he starts, his calloused hands slowly running up and down your thighs, half-submerged in the warm water, “I am still not thrilled that the object of your desire is Prince Daemon,” he laughs, teasing you, “Of all the knights in all the seven kingdoms, you pick him.” He jokes, his chest vibrating underneath you as he laughs.

“Harwin!” You gasp to hide your own laughter, though you know the cheeky smile tugging at your lips gives you away, “Please, be serious!” You reprimand, playfully slapping at his chest.

“I yield, I yield,” he laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. Eventually, the two of you settle down once more, a quiet calmness descending over you, “But I see the way you look at him,” he smiles, indicating that he isn’t upset when he sees worry cloud your soft features once again, “Very different from the way you look at me…only lust. And I see the way he looks at you,” your head shoots up at this, a soft blush creeping over your cheeks at this knowledge, “Lust, yes, but also a certain softness,” his hands come to rest on your hips once more, gently rocking your slick heat against his length, “Like you are something sacred to behold.”

He finishes finally, taking pleasure in the way you shudder against him, small whimpers and whines escaping your lips as your bud is dragged up and down his cock, his hands gripping your waist so tightly there are sure to be bruises in the morning.

“He should look at you in that way,” Harwin grunts, thighs bending under the curve of your rear as his knees come up out of the bathwater, giving him more leverage to rut against you, “Like you are, fuck, like you are something divine.” He groans into the hair at the crown of your head, big hands coming up to cup your breasts, thumbs swirling against your sensitive nipples, “You are, my love,” his words come out in breathless, broken gasps, “Divine, sacred, a gift sent straight from the Seven.”

You nod wordlessly, whines and moans getting caught in your throat as your hands roam over the firm planes of his chest, lips busying themselves against the column of his throat. No further words are needed between the two of you, a common understanding being enough for now as your bodies press closer together, nearly melding into one beneath the warm, sweetly scented water.

Golden morning light shines in through the sheer curtains of your chambers as you busy yourself with dressing for the day, your maids flitting around you as they button, tie, and lace you into your dress.

Harwin had left much earlier than you, already strapped into his leathers before the sun rose above the horizon. Just like every other morning, he had gently kissed you awake to let you know he was leaving, telling you he promised to be safe when training and that he would see you at supper. Unlike every other morning, however, he had added, “I imagine I shall see Prince Daemon in the training yard today,” he had softly cooed, a warm hand tenderly caressing your cheek, “If I do, I shall speak with him about our…offer. See what he says.”

At the time, you had simply mumbled sleepily, head too clouded with sleep to truly process his words. Now, though, you could not keep from wringing your hands with worry, fidgeting uneasily as your hair was pinned up, half your hair braided and wrapped up into a bun at the crown of your head, the rest left to cascade down your shoulders like a pearly waterfall.

Your maids finally finished, leaving you in your chambers with your still steaming breakfast, which you could only bring yourself to pick at, the nervous knots in your stomach keeping your appetite at bay.

What if he thinks me perverse? You worry, staring out at the morning sky, watching as puffy clouds blow in from the winds of Blackwater Bay. You know this is nonsensical — if even half the rumors of Daemon’s various appetites were true, he had no justification to call you of all people perverse. What if he tells everyone? You wonder, halfheartedly sipping at your tea, but even this you know was absurd. He was brash, incredibly rude at times, but the prince knew when to be discreet, and if he truly gazed at you in the way your husband claimed, you had no doubt he would keep your secret.

After exhausting your list of worries, you finally stand up from your small breakfast table, intending to find Aemma and ask for her to accompany you on a walk through the gardens.

You make your way into the hallway, winding your way through the various passages of the Red Keep in your search for your sister, saying polite thank you's to anyone wishing you a happy early nameday.

“Auntie!” You hear a small voice call behind you as you step out into the Godswood, the stoic face of the weirwood tree there peering at you from under its canopy of red leaves. You turn on your heel, smiling brightly when you see Rhaenyra running at you at full tilt.

You scoop her up at the last second, grunting a small “Oof!” as she barrels into your arms, “If it isn’t my favorite little niece!” You chirp brightly, her small arms hugging around your neck, “What wickedness are you up to?”

“Training!” She answers, excitedly squirming in your grasp, perched atop one of your hips.

“Training?” You question with exaggerated interest, “Whatever for?”

“To ride Syrax!” She giggles, “She’s getting big and the keepers say she is almost ready!”

“How exciting,” you nod, setting her down before crouching before her, “She is growing quickly indeed,” you add, motioning for her to turn around before you begin braiding her hair, the same pale shade as your own, “Are the keeper’s training you as well?”

“Ñuha dārilaros,” you nod in return, quickly finishing Rhaenyra’s braid before standing and turning to face him, “I trust the morning has found you in good spirits.” (My prince.)

“Oh, it has indeed,” he says, eyes flashing with mirth as he smirks at you, his head cocking to the side, stands of pale hair contrasting against the dark metal covering his chest, “Eman ryptan mirri udir, ñuha riña.” He drawls. (I have heard some news, my lady.)

This catches Rhaenyra’s attention, her Valyrian lessons clearly paying off as she gasps excitedly as she bounces between the two of you, “What news? What news?”

Rhaenyra nods happily, twirling a small yellow flower around in her hands as she practically skips from the courtyard, singing, “A treat for Syrax, a treat for Syrax!” as she disappears down the hall.

“Ao jorrāelatan naejot ȳdragon lēda nyke?” You question once Daemon returns his attention to you, politely clasping your hands together. (You needed to speak with me?)

“Gōntan ziry?” (He did?)

“Konir sagon paktot,” he continues, voice nearly patronizing as he slowly paces around you, circling you like a shark in the water, “He says you want me to fuck you.” He finishes, coming to stand before you once more, a proud smile on his face once he sees the shock on yours. (That’s right.)

“Iksis bisa drēje?” He asks once it becomes clear you don’t know how to respond. (Is this true?)

“Kessa.” You say simply, inwardly wincing at the wobble in your voice, though you try your hardest to appear confident. (Yes.)

Daemon snickers, “Naughty, naughty girl,” he tsks, shaking his head teasingly, one hand casually perched on the hilt of his sword, “He tells me I’m meant to be your nameday present; quite the honor, I must say.”

“Mērī lo ao agree naejot se jiōragon, ñuha dārilaros.” (Only if you agree to the offer, my prince.)

You flush deeply at his nickname, only used to sweet praises from Harwin, “That is most acceptable, my prince.” You nod.

“Very well…Daemon.” You tease, feeling proud when you see his eyes widen just the slightest bit.

“Perhaps this sweet little kitten has claws after all,” he smirks, eyes looking you up and down once more, “Very well,” he says with a nod, “I’m needed at the dragonpit, but I shall be seeing you and your husband later this evening.”

“Hen rhinka.” You nod as you watch him leave, your entire body relaxing, releasing unrealized tension, as soon as his back disappears from view. You allow yourself to breathe for a few moments, standing in the silent courtyard as your heartbeat returns to normal, before you leave, once again going to try and find Aemma, or really anything else to keep yourself occupied until the evening. (Of course.)

“I promise, sweet girl,” Harwin says, watching from the small sitting area in your chambers as you pace back and forth across the stone floor, “I told him all he would need to know. About you, about what you like, all of it.”

You nod, half listening, as you walk back and forth, feet bare on the large, plush fur rugs that cover the floor in front of the fireplace. The warmth of it on your skin was usually a welcome feeling, although tonight you only felt overheated. Outside, the sky was dark, the sun having set quite a while ago. King’s Landing once again sprawled out like a sea of stars beneath the Keep, mirroring the stars in the black sky overhead, the bright light of the moon reflecting off of the waters of the bay – the hour of the owl was drawing close.

“We do not have to do this if you’re having second thoughts, my love,” he says, standing and striding over to you, “If you wish, I will simply tell Daemon to fuck off.” He jokes, chuckling as you relax in his arms.

“I do want to!” You sigh, tilting your chin up to peer up at him through your lashes, “I’m simply nervous, I suppose. We’ve never done anything like this before,” you bite your lip, looking away from him as you resume speaking, “Honestly, I’m still shocked you agreed to it at all.”

“I want to share you,” he shrugs, pressing a comforting kiss to the top of your head, “Show off what’s mine.” He says lowly, chuckling when he feels you shiver against him – he knows very well that his possessiveness gets to you.

Suddenly, a knock sounds on the thick wooden door of your chambers, making you jump, which makes Harwin chuckle as he stands to open it; he had dismissed the guard that normally stood at your door in the evening, insisting that he take the night off. Not knowing what to do with yourself, you merely stand in front of the fire, nervously fidgeting.

Your husband gives you one last look, his eyes questioning; you nod to him, signaling that it was okay, that this was truly what you wanted, and he opened the door.

“He says I am beautiful,” you tell your husband, translating the Valyrian for him, an act that is second nature for you now. “Kirimvose.” you say, trying your hardest to keep your voice from trembling. (Thank you.)

Daemon comes to stand in front of you, his eyes searching yours for a second, looking for any hesitation you suppose. When he finds none, he hooks a finger into the delicate ribbon tied around your waist, the one keeping your silk dressing gown shut; again, he catches your eyes, and again you suppose he must find what he’s searching for because suddenly he’s pulling the bow there undone.

“She looks ravishing all the time,” your husband said, his breath fanning over the back of your neck as he seems to materialize behind you, rough hands skirting up your arms before coming to rest at your shoulders, “The most beautiful creature.”

“A beautiful creature,” Daemon agrees, his hands, not as rough as Harwin’s though still battle-worn, settling on your hips as he looks at your body appreciatively, his light eyes growing darker by the minute, “And a naughty thing.” He finishes, smirking when he hears a small, barely there whimper escape your lips.

“Is she?” your husband asks, gathering all your hair over one shoulder, exposing one side of your neck before he kisses you there, relishing the sigh he gets in return. You gasp as one of his hands comes up to cup your breast, warming your skin through the thin lace of your nightgown, “She’s such a good, obedient girl.”

You lean back into Harwin, your back against his firm chest as he kneads your breast, sending sparks flying down between your thighs. “Only bad little things fantasize about being taken by two men.” Daemon practically growls. Your eyes are only half open but you still don’t miss the look he gives your husband over your shoulder, nor do you miss the way the brunette subtly nods against the column of your neck. You moan when Daemon’s lips finally press against your own, his mouth soft and warm, tongue already licking into your mouth.

The motion presses you further back against Harwin, pressing his half-hard cock into the small of your back, the feeling making you near dizzy with lust as you realize that he truly wanted this just as much as you. Daemon’s tongue eventually wins its battle for dominance and the two of you kiss for a moment longer, the only sounds in your chambers being being yours and the prince’s lips moving together as your husband kisses, licks, and bites along your neck, causing you to mewl softly into Daemon’s waiting mouth like a puppy.

“Are you a bad girl, sweet little thing?” The prince growls against your jaw as he finally separates his lips from yours, trailing kisses down the opposite side of your neck.

When you neglect to answer, too caught up in the men’s attention, Harwin suddenly palms at the plump flesh of your rear, roughly grabbing and squeezing it enough to have you whining, “I believe Daemon asked you a question, my love,” he chucked, his other hand pulling down the neckline of your nightgown, nearly ripping the delicate lace, to reveal your breast, “It would be rude not to answer.”

“Gods!” You moan, sucking in a breath when you feel the blond’s lips wrap around your exposed nipple, his teeth teasing at the sensitive, peaked skin, “I-I’m a good girl!” You gasp, your fingers carding through silky hair, the same silvery shade as your own, “Harwin says I-“ You start, only to be brutally cut off as one of Daemon’s large hands wraps around your throat.

“Harwin may claim what he wishes,” he sneers, nose touching yours as he speaks, “But to me, you’re nothing but a lovely whore.”

You gasp, having never been called such a thing before. A part of you knows you should be offended, yet you can’t help the way your thighs squeeze together at his harsh treatment, knees nearly buckling beneath you.

Your husband tenses behind you, his kisses freezing on your neck before he lifts his head. Narrowing his eyes at Daemon over your shoulder, he grabs his forearm and pushes his hand off of you, “You are not to speak to her in that manner,” he growls, jaw squared, “Nor handle her so harshly. We discussed this earlier.”

“Oh, hush,” the prince dismisses, prying his hand from Harwin’s grasp with a tsk, “She’s enjoying it, naughty little thing.” He nods his chin at you, noting the blush on your cheeks and the way your chest is heaving.

Harwin’s eyes shift to yours, his hand tilting your chin up as he peers at you. Before he can speak, though, the large bells at the top of the Keep begin to chime, signaling the hour. Once, twice, all the way up to twelve. Finally, the hour of the owl had arrived, and with it your true nameday.

“Well, well,” Daemon drawls, abandoning you and Harwin to perch at the edge of your bed, helping himself go to the pitcher of wine sitting at your bedside, “You know, the girls in Flea Bottom have quite the… interesting nameday tradition.” He smirks, studying you and Harwin with amusement as he takes a sip of wine.

“What is it?” You ask, pulling your husband behind you as you approach the bed, accepting a glass of wine from Daemon. Beside you, Harwin shakes his head, glaring at the other man.

“We talked about this. I told you that I would be taking the lead–”

“You told me, yes,” Daemon interrupts, giving your husband a pointed look before shifting his gaze back to you, “However, it is her nameday. I believe she should get to decide.”

“Decide what?” You inquire, looking between the two men.

“Who will be giving you your birthday spanks, naughty girl.” The blond smirks, gazing at you appreciatively, “One for each year you’ve graced the realm with your presence.”

You looked back and forth between the two men again, Daemon looking at you as if you were a piece of prey, a prize to be won, and Harwin looking at you concerned, as if you were a precious treasure in need of protection. You deliberate for what feels like a long while in your mind – on one hand, Daemon was new and exciting, but you also knew of his unpredictable nature; on the other hand, Harwin was comfortable and safe to you, but wasn’t the entire point of this endeavor to branch out?

“Can…” you begin hesitantly, looking back and forth between the two men, “Can both of you do it?”

“I think that can be arranged, my sweet girl,” your husband says huskily, excited at the promise of exploring this particular act with you once more, “Why don’t you be a good little girl and kneel on the bed for us, hm? On all fours, as you normally do.”

He can’t help but admire you for a short moment, cock hardening at the soft blush that settles across your cheeks, the way your chest heaves as you gasp with pleasure, tits bouncing as you writhe against the other man’s hand. Finally, he comes out of his reverie and strides to where you and Daemon stand, taking his place on the other side of your body.

He begins toying with you once more, guiding your mouth to his while his hands roam over your curves before one finally settles on your breast, the one unoccupied by Daemon’s tongue. His tongue battles with yours as his palm gently squeezes your breast, fingers teasingly pinching at your nipple, causing him to groan in satisfaction once you start mewling in the way he loves. His other hand joins the prince’s at your core, two of this thick fingers teasing at your opening, “Fuck,” he groans, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth, “So wet, my love.” His fingers slide into you with a practiced ease, knowing exactly what you like after having spent nearly a year taking you apart on a practically daily basis.

They crook up perfectly, rubbing against that spot within you with the perfect pressure and accuracy. If there was one thing Harwin was determined to perfect from the moment you were officially declared his in the eyes of gods and men, it was bringing you pleasure in greater amounts than you’d ever thought possible. He couldn’t help the satisfied smile that spread across his bearded face as the sounds of your whimpers and whines grew more and more desperate, telling him once more that he was successful in his mission.

“Getting close, naughty thing?” the blond asks teasingly, lilac eyes peering up at yours as he continued stimulating you.

You nod frantically, whining as Harwin begins tracing his lips down your jaw, right to that spot on your neck that he knows drives you crazy. “Let go, princess,” he husks, the tips of his fingers zeroing in on that small rough patch within you, “Give us your pleasure.”

You can’t help the noise that leaves you, a loud, desperate, whining moan that would leave you horribly embarrassed at any other time, but right now you don’t have the ability to care. The ministrations from the two men, along with the utterance of the one pet name Harwin only dared utter in private, send you tumbling over the edge. You feel your knees buckle, although you aren’t worried about falling, too dumb with pleasure to think but still reassured that two pairs of strong arms will surely hold you steady.

Fireworks explode behind your eyelids as you feel your center contract around your husbands fingers; the two men groan when they hear the slick sounds pouring out from between your thighs multiply nearly tenfold as your peak takes you, soaking Harwin’s fingers and wetting Daemon’s hand.

Again, Daemon’s words send a shiver up your spine, the knot that had just come unraveled in your stomach tightening once more. “She is a good girl,” Harwin corrects him, hands lovingly stroking over your body, “For peaking exactly when I commanded her to. Such a good, obedient girl.”

Your head spins at their words, head swimming as one man degrades you, clearly gaining pleasure from the way his teases and rude remarks affect you, while the other praises you so lovingly, proud at way his tender words affect you so after months of perfecting them, learning exactly which phrases drive you to madness and fully exploiting them.

“Are you ready for your sweet spanks, my good girl?” Harwin asks, brown eyes shining with love.

You nod breathlessly, still leaning on both men for support. Beside you Daemon chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Ask for it properly, naughty girl.”

“Ask us, sweetling.” Harwin nods encouragingly.

“Please…” you start softly, finally finding your voice, “Please, husband, sir, please may I have my nameday spankings?”

Daemon growls lowly in his chest, satisfied at you finally learning your place and addressing him the way he feels he deserves, “Get on the bed.” He commands easily, leaving no room for backtalk or questioning.

Blessedly, your sweet husband still sees fit to help you arrange yourself on the edge of the bed, taking your shaky legs into account as he helps you move. You’re indeed kneeling on all fours, your legs tucked up under you as your feet dangle off the bed, your ass in the air, though still covered by the lace of your gown.

You feel the air shift behind you as they move, both standing behind you still but Harwin to the left and Daemon to the right. The one of Daemon’s hands strokes down your back, you can feel him leaning over you as he trails his hand down from the very top of your shoulder blades all the way down to the small of your back, right where the curve of your ass starts; you can hear him hum appreciatively. His other hand drags up the back of one of your thighs and slowly, he slips his fingers under the hem of your gown. He pulls it up over your ass, letting the soft, silky fabric pool in the dip of your spine; your walls clench around nothing when you hear both men groan behind you.

“Gods,” Harwin breathes, rough fingers lightly tracing over your skin, “You get more beautiful every time I see you.”

“Ready, princess?” Harwin murmurs behind you, hands soothing where Daemon had grabbed you.

“Please!” You nod, hands gripping the furs spread across the bed.

Suddenly, a hand comes down on the left side of your ass, harsh but not overly painful; you whimper at the impact, walls clenching from the pleasant sting left behind. Harwin. You were sure of it – the two of you had only experimented in this way a scant few times but enough that you knew the feel of his blows.

Again, a hand comes down, this time making you jerk as a palm strikes the right globe of your rear. A sharp cry leaves your lips, back bowing for a second before the same hand is pressing harshly at the small of your back, “Keep that back arched, naughty little thing.” Daemon hums.

Harwin gives you a moment to breathe, a gesture you appreciate very much, before striking you once again. Again, you mewl as you feel the welcome heat spread across your skin. You turn your head, burying your face into the soft furs beneath you, only to practically inhale the wolf pelt there as Daemon brings his hand down again, making you gasp. Another cry leaves your lips, louder and harsher than the last as tears pool in the corner of your eyes, some already leaking onto the coat. The right side of your ass practically feels as if it’s on fire, the sting so harsh it makes your ears ring.

“That’s two,” Daemon taunts, smiling wickedly as he sees an outline of his handprint already blooming on your ass, “So many more left to go.”

Harwin leans over you, brushing the hair from your face, brows furrowing with concern when he sees your tears, “Are you alright, my love?” He asks, smoothing a hand down your back, “Do you wish to stop? We don’t have to continue.” He reassures you, smiling lovingly.

You shake your head, determined to see it through – determined to impress Daemon, really. “N-no,” you say tearfully, taking deep breaths to calm yourself, “I want to, please.”

“Don’t be so modest,” Daemon cuts in, gripping your cheeks harshly once again as he spreads them, tugging them somehow further apart than before as he clicks his tongue, pleased, “You love this,” his hand wetly smacks against your slit, making you whine as Harwin further soothes you, glaring daggers at the prince, “Little cunt’s soaking the bed.”

Your husband knocks his hands away, the ferocity of it making you gasp and peer over your shoulder, “We’ve discussed this,” the brunette hisses through his teeth, knuckles white as he grips Daemon’s wrist, “You will not handle her in such a manner, we agreed on this.”

“Oh, please,” the prince huffs, rolling his lilac eyes as he jerks his arm from Harwin’s grip, “She’s enjoying it, see?” You don’t have any time to react before his palm is once again smacking against your flesh, harder than the previous two hits combined. Your vision swirls, eyes stinging as tears blur your sight, a scream ripping its way from your throat as his hit shoves you further up the bed. You feel as if your entire lower half is radiating with pain, ears ringing once again.

There’s some commotion behind you, though it takes you a few seconds to get your whits about you enough to turn over, grimacing as the tender skin of your rear brushes against the pelts, ones that normally feel so soft now digging into your skin like dozens of little thorns. When you do finally clear your eyes, rubbing the tears away, your mouth practically falls open at the sight before you.

Harwin presses him down harder, chest heaving with anger, “You dare harm her,” he mutters, his other fist clenched at his side, “We trusted you for this and you harm her!”

“She fucking liked it!” Daemon retorts, struggling against your husbands strength — although strong in his own right, he had nothing on Harwin, “Go look at her fucking cunt, it’s soaked! She loves being hit!” He positively seethes, nodding his head toward you.

The brunette sneers, lip curling up in disgust as the other man continues to squirm in his grasp. You watch, worried, as the hand not pinning the prince to the wall shoots up and roughly grips Daemon by his throat, forcing his head back.

Daemon whimpers.

The world seems to stop in a single breath, the three of you staying quiet and still. Your eyes are wide, not believing the small sound you heard, but there was no mistaking it. Harwin seems just as shocked as you, taking a half step back from Daemon as soon as he hears the noise.

You’ve never heard your husband use that tone before, so deep and threatening, it makes your thighs clench, a soft breath escaping your lips.

The small sound seems to remind both Harwin and Daemon that you’re still there and their heads whip toward you. They remain silent for a moment but then your husband smiles, looking between you and the prince with a mischievous smirk.

Harwin leads Daemon over to where you sit on the bed until both men are standing in front of you once again, the blond in the front with the brunette behind him, one hand holding his arms behind his back while the other remains wrapped around his neck. There is still a fire in Daemon’s eyes, though it’s merely a simmer now instead of a blazing inferno; you can’t help but be reminded of a tamed animal, of the dragons in the dragonpit — so much wildness choosing to be contained.

“I think you need to apologize,” Harwin starts, pushing Daemon forward until his legs hit the side of the bed, the two of them towering over you, “For hurting our lady, hm?”

Your breath catches at his choice of words, our lady. You watch as Daemon nods, his eyes half closed, glazed over by some kind of fog, his breathing slow and calm, as if he’s in a trance.

“Come now,” Harwin shoves him a little, just enough to make him jump, “Answer properly.”

“Yes….” Daemon whispers, hardly able to get words out around the grip Harwin has on his throat.

“Yes what?” Your husband asks slowly, words spoken through clenched teeth, his lips right next to the prince’s ear.

Daemon sighs, his shoulders sagging as any fight that remained in him seemed to vanish, “Yes, ser.”

“See?” Harwin teases, patronizingly tapping him on the cheek, “You can be good.” You see Daemon shiver at that.

Leaving Daemon to stand at the side of the bed, your husband bends down and kisses you softly, “You still desire this?”

You nod, looking deeply into his eyes as one of your hands cards through his curly hair, “Yes husband,” you whisper, “More than anything.”

“Stand.” Harwin commands simply, and you obey, coming to stand beside Daemon. “You,” your husband snaps, motioning at the man standing next to you, “Strip and lie down.”

Daemon does as he says, with no fuss for once. You can’t help but admire the way he moves as he removes his tunic and pants, his movements still so fluid and graceful despite the haze he seems to be in. After a moment, his clothes lie in a pile on the floor as he takes his place on your bed, laying on his back, half hard cock lying on his stomach, already leaking and flushed.

“Good.” Harwin praises simply, though you see Daemon’s brows flutter with pleasure. “My love,” he addresses you, giving you a gentle kiss, “Let me?” He asks, gesturing to your nightgown. You nod with a smile, letting him undress you. “Perfection,” he groans once you’re bare before him, dark eyes roaming your body.

“I want you to do something for me, princess,” he says, leading over to the bed, motioning for you to kneel on your knees next to Daemon.

“What’s that?” You ask, looking from your husband to the prince.

Harwin grabs your waist, much gentler than Daemon had ever touched you, and you can’t help but whimper, loving the way he manhandles you into position. Before you know it, he has you hovering over Daemon’s face, your entire body flushing as you realize what he wants.

“Sit.” He says lowly, letting you drop onto the prince’s waiting mouth.

“Oh!” You say in surprise, your thighs clenching around Daemon’s head. Immediately, you feel a rumble beneath you, making you whine as you realize he’s groaning with contentment as his tongue meets your aching heat. “Gods!” You gasp, hips moving of their own accord over his lips as your fingers tangle in his pale hair, causing him to groan more underneath you.

You pant, humping against his face like nothing more than the wanton whore he claimed you to be, mewls and whines escaping your lips constantly as your eyes squeeze shut.

You hear Harwin shuffling next to the bed and open your eyes, peering over your shoulder and shivering at the sight of your husband undressing, his muscular body on full display for you. Finally undressed, he turns to you, stroking his cock as he stalks toward the bed, eyes scanning over your body.

“Is he making you feel good, my little love?”

“Yes, sir!” You pant, nodding frantically. The bed dips under his weight as Harwin kneels on the bed next to you, his free hand coming up to palm at your breasts, thumb teasing over your nipples before he pinches them, humming appreciatively at the way you squirm atop Daemon.

“Good,” Harwin chuckles, leaning over to mouth at one breast while his hand continues teasing the other, “He must atone for earlier.” He finishes, letting go of his stiff cock to slap at Daemon’s thigh, making the man below you jerk and moan, his hands gripping at your rear tighter as his cock twitches against his abdomen.

You gasp, surprised by both the slap and the way Daemon’s lips seal around your bud in response, sucking it into his mouth and teasing it with his hot tongue as your hips grind down harder, “Oh, Gods, fuck!”

Beside you, Harwin stands on the bed, bending to kiss the top of your head, chuckling at the way you cling to him for support. “Shh, little sweetling,” he soothes, standing up straight, the sight of his cock making your mouth water as he fists it in front of your lips, “I have something you can occupy yourself with.” He teases, moving closer to you.

Smiling up at him, you softly lick the tip, pride swelling in your stomach at how much the slit is already leaking. You wrap your lips around the head, suckling softly as one of your hands untangles itself from Daemon’s hair to stroke the rest of Harwin’s length. You mewl around him as the prince continues feasting on your slit, plunging his tongue inside of you, deep groans vibrating through you every time he feels your walls clench around the muscle as he fucks it into you.

Slowly but surely, you take more of your husband into your mouth, eyes watering when he hits the back of your throat. He groans above you, half lidded eyes keeping contact with yours as he gently strokes his hands through your hair.

“Such a lovely, precious girl,” he grunts, his eyes nearly black but still shining with adoration, “Gods, princess, you’re perfect like this.”

Your husband’s sweet praise pushes you closer to the edge, the knot in your stomach growing dangerously tight as you rut against Daemon’s mouth, his tongue zeroing in your bud as he feels you moving more and more determinedly against him, his eyes rolling back in his head at the way you taste.

“Are you getting close, sweet girl?” Harwin asks, gently fucking his hips into your mouth.

You nod around his length, eyebrows furrowing together as you stare up at him pleadingly. Blessedly, your sweet husband can never bear to make you wait very long.

“Find your peak, my love,” Harwin huffs as he strokes his length, “Cover him with it.”

As always, you do as he commands. The knot in your belly finally snaps once more and you moan above Daemon, practically crying at the way each wave of your orgasm crashes over you, sending shivers down your spine. The prince slurps noisily below you, savoring your release as his cock twitches, leaking heavily onto his stomach.

“Ah!” You cry, hips twitching as Daemon’s tongue persists against you, only stopping when you lift yourself off of him and settle back onto his chest, “Seven Hells.” You breathe, your wet slit pressed tightly against the center of Daemon’s chest.

Harwin once again kneels on the bed and you peer over your shoulder, eyes widening as you see him swipe a finger through the pool of of arousal leaking from the flushed head of the prince’s cock, where it rests against his stomach, bringing it to your lips for you to suck off, which makes the man below you groan.

“Seems he wants something,” Harwin teases, “Shall we let him have it?”

“Please, sir,” you whine, nodding pathetically at the chance to finally sink onto Daemon’s cock, “Let him, please!”

“Aww, sweet thing,” Harwin coos, tenderly caressing your cheek, “Thank you, although you are not who I wish to hear from.”

At that, you can feel Daemon squirm beneath you, a determined set to his eyes, “Forget it.” He shakes his head, hands tracing over your curves.

“Really?” Harwin asks, reaching behind you and grabbing Daemon’s aching length, stroking him slowly, making the prince’s body go rigid as he practically whines beneath you, “You don’t want to feel our lady’s sweet little cunt on your cock?”

“I don’t think it’s me you want to fuck,” your husband taunts, shaking his head, “I know you want it, know you want to have your way with my little wife,” you can tell when Harwin begins stroking Daemon’s length again as the man underneath you tenses, his muscles pulling taut, “Simply ask nicely and you may have her.”

You watch Daemon for a moment, studying the pained look on his face, his jaw still clenched and determined. You know he won’t do as your husband commands, still too proud no matter how true Harwin’s taunts are. So, you take pity on him, unable to reign in your own desire either. Bracing your hands on his chest, you move yourself back along the length of his torso, coming to hover over his stomach just above where your husband continues teasing at his length.

Leaning down, you gently kiss along Daemon’s jaw until your lips are positioned just under his ear, “Tell him what he wants to hear,” you implore, your breath tickling his pale skin, “I want it as badly as you, please my prince, please just do as he asks.” You beg, rutting your hips against his firm stomach.

Daemon opens his eyes finally, dark with desire as he looks at you, watching as you nod encouragingly, your own brows set in a pleading furrow. Again, the prince sighs, his body deflating, “Please,” he starts, his voice barely a whisper at first, growing louder once you dip your head down and begin teasing his neck, “Please let me fuck her, let me please her.”

“Let you fuck who?” Harwin teases, finally releasing Daemon’s cock.

“Please, let me fuck your pretty wife,” Daemon sighs, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, making you gasp and rut your hips against his stomach again, “Please, ser.”

“That wasn’t so difficult, hm?” Your husband chuckles, making himself comfortable at the head of the bed, his back against the plush pillows. He fixes you in his dark gaze, muscular arms folded over his chest, “Ride him. Tame our dragon, sweetling.”

Our dragon. Again, his words make you shiver and you nod wordlessly, sliding further down Daemon’s lithe body before your center, dripping and aching, is finally positioned over his length. Once more, you look down at the prince’s face, his silvery hair spread in a halo around his head; he’s breathing harshly, his cock twitching against your center as he gazes at you, the animalistic lust in his eyes replaced with a glimmer that makes your heart twist — you’ve seen the same one in Harwin’s dark eyes time and time again.

Before you have time to dwell on it, Daemon’s hands grip your hips, pushing you down slowly. Both of you groan, his length stretching you deliciously. You brace your hands on his chest, nails digging into his skin as your hips sink lower and lower, cursing as he’s finally pressed inside you completely, his cock filling every inch of you as your walls pulse around him.

“Fuck,” Daemon grunts, his hands gripping at your waist and hips as his eyes roll back, “Tight little cunt, so good.” His hands suddenly grip your ass, making you whimper and grind yourself against him at the feel of his rough hands against your still tender skin.

You can’t help the moans and whimpers that escape your lips as you begin rocking in Daemon’s lap, angling your hips in a way that causes his head to brush against that spot deep within you, the one that makes your head spin. “Gods, shit!” You can’t help but gasp at the way he feels inside you, his cock stretching you nicely — not as wide as Harwin’s but just a hair longer, filling you to the brim.

“Does he feel good, my love?” Your husband asks, causing you to open your eyes and look over at him. You nod as you meet his eyes, the brown almost totally taken over by blackness as he relaxes against the pillows, eyes sweeping up and down your body as he watches you grind yourself atop the prince, “How does she feel, your grace?” He addresses Daemon.

You whine at the feel of his lips and teeth on your neck, your hands tangling in his hair. You whimper when you feel him bend his legs behind you, his thighs pressing against your bum; your whimpers turn to sharp cries as he begins thrusting up into you, spearing you down onto his cock over and over, the head nearly kissing your cervix as he does.

Your cries rise in volume the closer you get, your thighs tensed against his movements as the knot in your stomach tightens, your walls clutching at his length. You gasp as one of his hands comes up, abandoning your ass to wrap lightly around your throat, only holding it instead of squeezing. His movements make your bud rub against the small thatch of hair at the base of his cock, sending sparks throughout your body.

“Ooh, she’s getting close,” Harwin observes, lightly tugging at his length as he watches you come undone atop Daemon, “Don’t you want her to soak your cock?”

“Gods,” Daemon groans, feeling the way your walls keep getting somehow tighter around his cock. He pants as he moves his hips faster, punching his length into you relentlessly, savoring the way you gasp and moan into his mouth, “Yes, yes want it.” He groans brokenly, spiraling toward his own release as well.

This time, thankfully, Daemon does not protest, both of you too desperate. “Fucking hell,” he hisses, a light sheen of sweat on his brow, “Please, fuck, please I need to make her peak, please!” He huffs, pressing his forehead against your own, staring deeply into your eyes as he grabs at any flesh of yours he can reach.

“Very good,” you do not miss the way Daemon shivers at Harwin’s praises, “Make her come undone.” Your husband commands.

At this, one of Daemon’s hands buries itself between your two bodies, fingers frantically seeking out your bud and rubbing tight, wet circles into the sensitive flesh. Within seconds, you unravel, light bursting behind your eyelids as you cry out, fire igniting in your veins. Your walls pulse around Daemon’s cock as you cry out, your whole body shaking as your release flows over you in waves.

Even through the blinding pleasure you can tell Daemon is teetering on the edge, savoring your orgasm before he allows himself his own. Harwin can tell too and his smirk grows, a devious idea coming to mind, “You cannot finish inside her,” he growls, shaking his head at Daemon, “That is mine and mine alone.”

The prince curses, his eyes squeeze shut as he manages to lift you up, pushing you back to sit atop his thighs as one of his hands comes up to strip at his cock a scant few times before a low, rumbling growl settles in his chest. A second later, he jerks suddenly, abdomen contracting as he finishes over his fist, pearly cum dripping onto his stomach, some of it shooting onto your chest and torso as well, making you gasp.

The two of you breathe heavily as you collapse forward onto his chest, your tired muscles unable to hold you up; you whimper softly at the feel of his seed on your stomach, one of his hands stroking over your hair. “Thank you.” You sigh.

He laughs, kissing the top of your head, “You need not thank me, princess,” he says tiredly, his choice of pet name making your heart skip a beat, “The pleasure was mine.”

You feel the bed shift beside you before a pair of lips descend upon your back, kissing up to your shoulder. Your husband pushes your hair back and you smile up at him shyly. “You are truly perfection, my little love,” he smiles, “Has our dragon tired you out?”

You shake your head, reaching out for Harwin, “I want you,” you breathe, letting him flip you onto your back until you’re lying next to Daemon, “Please, take me, my love.” You beg, grabbing onto every part of Harwin you can as he positions himself between your legs.

“Fuck her,” Daemon says suddenly, his eyes scanning over Harwin, “I wish to see her break.”

You shudder at his words, your core clenching at nothing, making you whine. Harwin shushes you lovingly, running his length through the slick still dripping from your center. “Shh, I will give you what you want, sweet one,” he says as he pushes his head into you, already deliciously stretching you, “As I always do, always will.” He grunts, sinking into you.

Your eyes flutter, his cock still stretching your walls, causing your center to ache beautifully, your back arching on the furs. “Gods,” you breathe, moaning as Harwin bends down to lick into your mouth, your hands grabbing at his thick shoulders, “You feel so good inside me.”

He chuckles into your mouth before leaning back up, brown eyes gazing down at you adoringly, watching your chest bounce with every frantic breath you take as his hips finally press against yours. Groaning, he grabs at the backs of your knees, your legs bending as he pins them back, nearly folding you in half.

The two of you move together for many moments, slick sounds from your center making you blush as you lose yourself in Harwin’s strong thrusts. He knows exactly how to unwind you after this much time together, and he wastes no time in doing so, a proud smile on his face as he feels your muscles tensing underneath him.

“Close already, pretty girl?” He asks, his curls tumbling wildly as he moves. You nod, words catching in your throat as you clench around his thick cock.

Beside you, Daemon, who has been watching with dark eyes all the while, slowly strokes his length, his other hand resting on your throat once more, his own breath growing more ragged each minute.

Harwin’s gaze shifts to him, his thrusts speeding up as he looks over the prince’s lean figure, “Up,” he commands, motioning for Daemon to stand next to him, “Watch as I claim her, see her in the way I do.”

Again, Daemon listens without a fight, rising from his place next to you as he comes to stand at the side of the bed, shoulder to shoulder with Harwin as he continues pumping at his cock, breathing heavily as he stares at the place where you and your husband connect.

Harwin bends down suddenly, the motion pulling his length from you and causing you to whine — though that quickly turns to a sharp gasp when you feel his tongue lick at your stomach. Tilting your head up, you look down in just enough time to see his tongue sweep through the pool of Daemon’s seed, still splattered on you. “Oh!” You exclaim, surprised as you watch your husband gather the other man’s spend on his tongue.

Leaning up, Harwin once again spears you on length before hovering his face over yours, his eyes searching your gaze. Knowing what he wants, you open your mouth, smiling through moans at the familiar sight of him gathering spit in his mouth. A second later, he is leaning down again, his lips nearly connecting with yours as he spits into your waiting mouth, sharing Daemon’s seed with you.

Your eyes roll back as you swallow, savoring the unfamiliar, heady taste of the prince as your cunt flutters. Above you, Daemon lets out a groan so loud he almost sounds as if he’s in pain.

“Good girl,” Harwin praises, smoothing a hand through your hair as he resumes his harsh thrusts, his other hand bracing itself against your lower stomach, thumb toying with your bud, “My good girl.”

“Seven Hells.” Daemon groans, fisting his cock harder and faster as he nears his own release.

“I’m close, my love,” Harwin pants, his thumb pressing against your bud harder, making your hips twitch under him, “With me?” He asks, half lidded eyes watching your own.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You moan in time with each of his thrusts, nodding your head wildly as you thrash within his grasp, pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

His words send you over the edge, your walls milking his length as you feel the heat of the two men’s gazes fixed on your cunt. You gasp as your peak washes over you once more, the strongest of the night, causing your entire body to spasm uncontrollably in Harwin’s strong grasp.

Above you, Harwin grunts as his cock spasms within you, painting your walls with his seed. As he tips over the edge, he turns his head to Daemon, pulling the dragon to him, their mouths crashing together. Hearing their twin groans, you manage to open your eyes, the sight before you nearly making you peak again. Their lips battling for dominance, neither relenting as their tongues tangle together, grunts and growls filling each other's mouths.

Daemon finishes at nearly the same second your husband does, his seed splattering onto the furs beside you as his chest heaves.

Harwin comes to a stop within you, his hand softening in Daemon’s hair though he does not pull away. You watch them kiss for a moment more, surprised at the heat building within you at the sight. Your walls clench around your husband's spent cock, making him jump and finally pull away from the other man, facing you with a knowing smile as you blush, your eyes flitting between four others.

“Watching him with you.” You clarify with a grin.

Happily groaning, Harwin withdraws his length from you, shushing you as you whine. You feel your husband's seed dripping from you a moment later and both men hum appreciatively at the sight.

“Shall I draw us a bath, sweetling?” Harwin asks, brushing sweat from your forehead, “I know you do not like to go to sleep so dirty, though if you are too spent…”

You shake your head, giggling as both men help you stand on shaky legs, “I would gladly take a bath, husband,” you look between the two of them before your gaze settles on Daemon, “With both of you?”

A few moments, and kisses, later your husband confirms it’s ready. He steps into the bath first with a curse, “I do not know how you find pleasure in this heat,” he jokes, gritting his teeth as his skin grows accustomed to the hot water, “Caraxes may as well be burning me where I stand.”

Daemon laughs at that, the two men helping you into the bath, settling you against Harwin, a position you’d taken many times before. You sigh gratefully as the water warms your tired skin, the sweet smelling oils relaxing you, “Hush,” you chuckle, watching as the prince lowers himself into the water as well, on the opposite end of the large tub, “It feels perfect.”

Daemon sighs in agreement, long arms resting on the lip of the tub as he tilts his head back, the steam making silvery strands of his hair cling to his shoulders and chest. “Perfection indeed.” He says contentedly, making Harwin’s chest shake with laughter against your back.

Your eyes droop closed after a moment, Daemon massaging your feet and legs as Harwin busies himself with washing your shoulders, neck, and chest.

A gentle breeze billows through the sheer curtains of your chambers, the cool air feeling delicious on your heated skin, the smell of Aemma’s sweet blossoms in the palace gardens making your lips quirk up into a tired smile.

“Sleep, princess.” Harwin commands gently, whispering against your neck.

“Ēdrugon.” Daemon echos. (Sleep.)

You obey.

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#harwin strong x reader #harwin strong smut #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #i am not the same person i was one fic ago

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covenofagatha · 1 day ago

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Saw you're taking requests and decided to toss one your way!

Agatha x reader, reader has had a really tough day and Agatha helps put her into subspace to relax. Some soft!dom Agatha with a splash of praise, degradation, mommy and maybe some size kink? And of course some fluffy aftercare after reader has been thoroughly fucked out of her mind❤

Hope you enjoy! (Disclaimer: I've never written subspace before so hopefully I did it justice, along with everything else you wanted)

Bad day

When Agatha comes home to find that you had a bad day, she takes it upon herself to make you feel better

Word count: 2600

Warnings: praise kink, degradation kink, subspace, size kink, mommy kink, oral, strap-on, aftercare, smut, and fluff (I may have missed one)

You’re on your last nerve when you get to your afternoon class on Wednesday.

Your car didn’t start in the morning so your girlfriend, Agatha, had to drop you off at work, which you’d never complain about, except she had still been asleep when this happened so you were almost late because she had to get ready.

And then work was awful. You had a shift at the popular retail store in town and it seemed like every customer who came in was on a mission to personally ruin your day.

From dissatisfaction with the prices to vomit all over the restroom floor, it seemed like nothing could go right.

Agatha had been at work herself so you had to call one of your college friends to give you a ride after.

And now you had to sit in a class on Personality Theory for the next three hours and listen to your professor drone off on tangents. You would be getting your tests back from last week though, and you were hoping you had done well.

“Alright, before we get started, I’ll go ahead and pass out your exams. Once I call your name, you can come up and look at it,” your professor says and you anxiously tap your fingers on the desk while you wait for your turn.

Finally, he says your name. Butterflies in your stomach, you walk to the front to look and it’s like you’ve been punched in the gut.

There must be something wrong, you don’t understand how you missed this many.

Red ink stains the page and you have to clench your jaw together to keep your composure. Tears prick at your eyes as you hand the exam back to your professor and head back to your seat, burning with shame.

It seems like it’s just one thing after another.

You barely pay attention for the rest of class, head spinning with thoughts of how bad you did, how everything sucks, how you just want to go home.

Agatha texts you a few times during the three hour time span, just checking in on you, but you don’t even respond. She always says that you get too wrapped up in your own brain and you know she’s right. You do let her know that you won’t need a ride home, not sure you could take the older woman’s softness right now.

You just want to take a shower and lie in bed.

Class finally ends and you order an Uber instead of asking a friend to take you home. When you get in these moods, you don’t want to talk to anyone.

You grunt in response to the driver’s question of asking how you are and then the rest of the ride is spent in silence. It’s not often you get in such a foul mood, but when it does, it’s tough.

When you make it through the front door of Agatha’s home, you immediately collapse on the couch and breathe in the blanket that still has her scent. She’ll be home soon and now you just want her to give you a big hug and tell you that everything will be alright.

You hear keys jingle in the front door maybe ten minutes later and you sit up on the couch expectantly, heartbeat picking up. You’ve been with Agatha for six months now and she still managed to have the same effect on you that she had at the beginning.

“Hey, baby,” she calls out, seeing the lights on, and she makes her way to the living room to find you swaddled in her favorite blanket on the couch. She frowns, instantly able to tell something is wrong. Usually you get up to give her a kiss. “You okay?”

And then it’s like a dam breaks. You start sobbing and telling her all the things that have gone wrong that day and she instantly sits down next to you, engulfing you into a hug and whispering that everything will be okay.

She lets you cry for a bit, hand stroking your hair, making soothing sounds. Eventually, you calm down enough to take slow, shaky breaths.

“I’m sorry, doll. Sounds like you had a rough day,” she says, pressing a kiss to your head and wiping the tears off your cheeks. You nod in agreement. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

You shrug while you think about it. And then you lean in and chastely kiss her lips.

When you pull back, she’s smirking.

“You want mommy to help you?” She coos and instantly, a fire awakens in your belly at the use of your favorite name for her. Your head bobs up and down eagerly but she tuts and grabs your jaw to hold it still. “Words, baby.”

“Yes please, mommy,” you whisper. No one can make you feel as good as Agatha can.

“Good girl,” Agatha hums and the fire gets worse. “What do you want?”

You squirm on the couch, just looking at her, begging with wide eyes.

“Why don’t you show me what you want?” You whine and grab her hand and bring it down to your shorts. “Oh, do you want me to touch you?”

“Please,” you force out again. “Touch me, mommy.”

Her grin is wicked as she lays you back down on the couch, positioning herself so she’s holding her weight above you. Your noses are almost close enough to touch.

“Does my little baby want me to reward her like the perfect little angel that she is?” Agatha purrs and you gasp, feeling your head start to get fuzzy. She plays with the waistband of your shorts and your hips buck up involuntarily. You make a sort of strangled noise from your throat – all you can do, really – and she shushes you. “Just relax, doll. Let mommy take care of you.” You whimper as she kisses your nose and moves down your body to undress you.

You feel like you’re on a different planet when Agatha pats your waist so you can lift yourself up for her to take your shorts and underwear off.

“There we go, so good for me,” she says, leaving kisses against your thighs. You moan, senses heightened. You babble something incoherently and you can hear her chuckling at you. “Baby, you’re absolutely dripping for me.”

Her fingers move up and down your slit, collecting wetness, and sounds are pulled out of your mouth by her administration.

“Does that feel good, hon?”

Your head lulls back on the couch and you try to say something to affirm her question.

“Aw, is my little baby in subspace right now?” Something in the back of your mind tells you that you must be, but you’re too blissed out to answer.

And then her tongue is on your pussy and you couldn’t say a word even if you tried. If you didn’t already feel like you were floating then, you sure do now. Your back arches off the couch as she sucks on your clit but her hands come up to hold you down.

“Be a good girl for me and let mommy do all the work.”

Your moans get louder as she keeps eating you out and you’ve never felt this good before. It’s like all your worries and stress and frustration that built up over the day are melting away to leave you in a puddle of pleasure.

“Mommy, so close,” you slur, hands digging into the couch beneath you. Her teeth scrape against your clit and she moans into you and it sends you into an explosive orgasm.

You’re not sure you’ve ever cum that hard.

She licks you through it and you have to pull her away after a while because you become sensitive.

Agatha comes up to kiss you, long and hard, and you can taste yourself on her tongue.

“Do you want to try something new tonight, baby?” She asks once she pulls away and you nod eagerly before even asking what it is. You trust her more than anyone. “I’ll be right back.” She gives you one last parting kiss and quickly runs upstairs.

She’s up there for a few minutes while you lay on the couch, still in a trance-like haze.

And then she comes back down and your mouth falls open.

Attached to her hips is the biggest strap-on you’ve ever seen. She must have just bought it. You had gotten to where you could take the toys you had pretty easily, but you are certain that this will stretch you out so much more than them.

“Mommy,” you whisper, eyes widening as she comes back over to the couch. You can see that she’s holding lube in one hand.

“Mommy wants to see if your tiny, little pussy can fit her big cock,” she says and a thrill runs through you despite yourself. “Might have to work you up to it.”

Your legs part without thinking and she laughs.

“So desperate for me, aren’t you? My perfect, little slut.” You gasp at the words, feeling yourself get even more wet.

While you loved the praise from her, degradation almost turned you on more.

“You have to relax, baby,” she reminds you, moving to kneel on the couch between your legs and pushing them even more open. She rubs your clit and slides two fingers in easily. You grind up on her fingers, trying to pull them in more. “Look at how well you take my fingers. So good for mommy. You can’t get enough of them, can you?”

You shake your head and groan when she curls them just right.

“Such a good whore for mommy,” she sighs. “Can you take another?”

“Please,” you gasp out, walls clenching around the two already inside you. She pulls them and you feel empty, but that feeling is quickly gone when she pushes three in you. The stretch feels so good and your hips meet her every thrust, the pleasure in you already growing.

And then it’s gone. Your head flies up to look at her wrapping the hand wet with you around her strap and coating it. And then she opens the bottle of lube and pours a hefty amount in her other hand to also stroke the toy with.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Go slow, mommy,” you tell her, even though you know that she will. “You’re so big.”

“You’re going to look so pretty, sweetheart, stretched around my big cock,” she says and positions the tip at your entrance. “Like a little, perfect slut.

The first push steals all the air from your lungs.

“Fuck,” you groan. You’ve never been so full in your life and you barely have any of it inside you. Agatha doesn’t move, just rubs small circles on your thighs and waits for you to tell her you’re okay.

It takes a few moments for you to adjust. It’s definitely easier in the headspace that you’re in right now.

“Okay,” you say and Agatha obeys, slowly moving forward inside you. She stops when your breathing gets strangled and doesn’t move again until you’re back to normal.

“God, your little pussy looks so good taking my big cock so well,” she grunts once she finally bottoms out. If your mind was clearer, you’d tease her about the size kink she so clearly has. “How are you doing, baby? Can I move?”

“Please, mommy,” you beg, still feeling euphoric. Every drag of her cock against your walls now feels like heaven. She smirks and starts to move.

She starts slow at first, just short, slow strokes to make sure that you’re still comfortable, and then she starts to really fuck you.

The pace Agatha sets is rough and bruising and you can hear the wet, squelching sounds that the toy makes as it pushes back inside you every thrust, a mix of your wetness and lube.

“Mommy,” is all you can pant as she fucks into you over and over again, a light sheen of sweat breaking out on her.

“So fucking good, sweetheart, you’re taking my cock so well, such a perfect slut for mommy,” Agatha mutters, never slowing down once. If you were already in subspace before, you’re not sure you have a word for what state you’re in right now. There are not even semblances of thoughts in your head, there is only Agatha and the pleasure she is giving you. You can’t even remember what you were in such a bad mood about earlier.

She reaches down to rub your clit again and you hear someone moan obscenely loudly.

You think it might have been you.

All you know is that you’re getting so close again you can taste it. She seems like she can tell because she somehow speeds up, which you didn’t think was possible. Little gasps are forced out of your mouth with every push and your walls are tightening so much around her that it makes it hard for her to thrust.

“So good, baby, you’re taking me so well,” Agatha chants, a hand reaching up to play with your nipple under your shirt. “So perfect, such a perfect slut, my perfect good girl. Cum for mommy, cum all over mommy’s big cock.”

She angles her hips just right and rubs your clit hard and you spasm, back bowing off the couch. You’ve never felt pleasure this extreme; it feels like you’re having an out-of-body experience. All the tension in your body is gone and you pant heavily as Agatha pulls out of you.

“You okay, baby?” She asks and you wheeze a laugh.

“M’okay,” you say happily, a slow smile spreading onto your face. You can feel your head clearing with the loss of her touch.

“Let me get a washcloth, alright? I’ll be right back, I promise.” She gives you a kiss on your head and she’s back in what seems like seconds with a warm towel. You wince at the feeling of it between her legs but it helps. “Do you want to move to bed?”

You nod, but you’re not actually sure if you can stand up based on the jelly feeling in your legs. Agatha seems to understand this without you saying anything and she scoops you off the couch bridal style and carries you up the stairs.

You giggle and burrow your head into the crook of her neck, breathing her in and feeling her against you.

“You did so good, baby,” she whispers.

“Thank you, Agatha. I really needed that.”

She pauses for a second in the hallway to peck your lips. “I know you did. I’m happy to help, sweetheart. Whatever you need.”

Once in the bedroom, Agatha helps you into some comfy pajamas and makes you take sips of water from the bottle on her nightstand. You lay down and she pulls the covers over you both, pulling you close to her so she can wrap an arm around you.

“You’re so perfect, baby, you know that?” She murmurs. “I love you so much.” She kisses you softly, bringing a hand up to stroke your hair.

“I love you too,” you mumble in-between kisses. No one has ever made you feel more loved than Agatha.

“I’m so proud of you,” she continues and you blush. “I know you had a hard day today, but tomorrow will be better. You’re so strong. You’re my perfect girl. I love you.”

And she keeps whispering the sweetest things into your ear, and you drift off to sleep in her arms, feeling like nothing was ever wrong.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along

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short-honey-badger · 2 days ago

Text

Doll

Pairings: Shanks x Female Reader

Summary: Shanks meets an escaped slave from Marie Geois and swears to teach her how to live.

Notes* hey lovelies. As you can see from the oneshots, I'm finally back in action. I hope you enjoy the start of my new series that I'm planning to help me really get going. Expect some protective Shanks and some darker elements. Pretty fast pace just cause that how I enjoy writing him lol. I've really missed writing for him and sharing works with you wonderful people. Anyway, enjoy! ❤️

Doll Masterlist

There aren't many things that could surprise Shanks on the Grand Line anymore, but the woman that sat at the bar could definitely be considered a good one. He didn't recognize her, but he could tell that she was in a league above the other patrons that sat around the bar. She sat in the back corner, a bottle of booze sat on the table in front of her that she occasionally took a pull from. Shanks sat at the front and got the attention of the bartender.

“Who's she?” He asked and the man shrugged as he cleaned a dingy glass.

“Dunno. She blew in a couple of days ago. She pays, so I don't ask questions.”

Shanks huffed and ordered a drink for himself, “And whatever she's been drinking, too.”

Drinks in hand, Shanks stood from the bar and ambled over to the table where the woman sat. He plonked the bottle down and, head tilting to the side, “This seat taken?”

You looked up, blinking rapidly as if coming out of a daze and gave the redhead a smile once you focused on the ale he'd sat beside your empty one. “Is now.”

Shanks grinned and plonked down in the chair opposite you and leaned back and eyed you from under his bangs, “You from about here?”

The woman shakes her head, a mysterious little smirk painting her lips, “Nope. And I can tell that you aren’t either.”

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing in thought before her eyes brighten like a bulb has gone off, “You’re Shanks, right?”

The emperor huffs and gestures to himself, “You caught me.”

He doesn’t expect the woman to go quiet, an almost contemplative look about her as she shifts in her chair. He can’t help but lean in, curious despite himself.

“Maybe you could help me out then?” You murmur and flick your eyes up to meet his own. Shanks is surprised to see the desperation lingering there, hidden behind the self-assurdness that you seem to wear like a second skin. What would a girl like you need help with?

“Alright, I’ll bite. Tell me what’s going on. Don’t let my money go to waste though, doll,” he murmurs and gestures to the untouched ale that he’d brought over. You smile in thanks and take a sip, wetting your mouth as you get ready to spill. You can only hope that the emperor will accept.

With shaking hands you reach up and unbutton the top few notches of your shirt, just enough to expose your left shoulder where the brand still tugs uncomfortably at your skin. Even though you’ve had the brand for years now, you’ll never get used to the sickening way it pulls at your skin. The constant reminder that you were owned.

Shanks sucks in a sharp breath, the brand of a slave staring back at him in before he tears his eyes away and looks back at you, “How’d you escape?”

You grimace and button back up, eyes flinty, “My old master,” you hiss the word in disgust, “Sent me on an errand in Sabaody so I took my chance. That was about a month ago now. They’re stil looking for me.”

“Who got your off the archipelago?” Shanks asks and downs half his tankard of rum in one go. He’s met slaves before while visiting the string of islands, but with Silvers there, Shanks steered clear most of the time unless he happened to drift close. The though that even after all that Fisher Tiger had done, the Celestial Dragons still kidnapped and baught slaves. It disgusted the emperor to have seen that brand on a woman like you.

You shrug and bite your bottom lip. You busy your hands by playing with the ring of condensation that the bottle of ale has left behind, “Didn’t really catch their names. I stowed away the first ship I could find and I’ve been drifting ever since. I just… I can’t go back to that place Shanks. I don’t want them to find me.”

Shanks doesn’t know what makes him reach out, but he takes both your hands in his own, and wow, you were such a small thing weren’t you? He squeezes your palms and gives you a confident grin to hide the rage that threatens to erupt like an active volcano. He may have just met you, but there is a feeling in the pit of his stomach that tells him that he’d met someone special. Someone that could change his life, and he finds himself hardpressed to even think of letting you slip away from him.

“Don’t worry, doll. I won’t ever let that happen,” Shanks swears, and it’s then that a thought crosses his mind. A blush flushes his face and he peers at you, “Maybe you outta tell me your name, though. Or I could just keep calling you doll. Either works for me.”

Your laugh sends a shot of heat straight to his stomach, and your smile could light up the sky, “My name is _, but you can keep calling me Doll if you’d like.”

Shanks meets your grin with one of his own and then stands, carefully pulling you up with him, “Well, doll. How about you come meet my crew?”

Shanks stays close to you for the rest of the evening, introducing you to each one of his crewmates and pointing out what they do aboard the ship. You smile and make conversation, though some of it is stilted and awkward, like you aren’t sure how to talk to someone so casually. You loosen up after a couple more drinks, and find yourself leaning against your new captain, bottom lip stuck between your teeth as you watch the crew’s antics.

“I don’t want to be a burden to you, Shanks. Do you think that you could teach me?”

Your voice is soft, breath featherlight against his skin, and Shanks thinks that he would do anything for you in that moment. Instead, he tips a bottle of rum up to his lips and takes a deep swig before he answers.

“Sure, sweetheart. What do you want to know?’

Your eyes burn with a sort of determination that the emperor doesn’t see often, and it makes anticipation well up in his chest as you lick your lips and look at him.

“Everything, Shanks. I want to know everything.”

He sets the bottle away so that he can give you his full attention. He can feel the air thicken, the winds and sea changing as he dips his head and reaches out to cup your face in his hand. He swipes his thumb along your jaw, then your chin, eyes never leaving your own.

“Then that’s what I’ll do, Doll. I’ll teach you how to live, yeah?”

#reader insert #one piece #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #shanks #opla shanks #one piece x reader #pet names

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mekakitsune · 2 days ago

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"you don't want me here? then why does your body say other wise?" jinx x fem piltover!reader - nsfw - minors dni

(requested by anon)

for as long as you can remember, your family did everything in their power to keep you from venturing into the undercity. topside was where you belonged, no doubts about it. you were polite, kindhearted and far too soft for that kind of lifestyle– or so you thought.

it wasnt until you met her, that your views changed. she showed you so much, taught things you never had the chance to know, all while being so incredibly...human?

did jinx use your piltover status against you? absolutely. when you first met, you could tell she hated you, just by seeing how you presented yourself. she made it her own personal mission to get as far under your skin as she possibly could.

"you really shouldn't be here jinx, my parents are sleeping downstairs..." you mutter as she pressed kisses along your neck, making sure she left bruises as she went. she ignored your plea, hands roaming under your shirt, making you shiver.

"then i guess you'll have to be quiet then, yeah?" she smiled deviously, hands tracing the underside of your breasts.

"jinx...im serious" you whined, voice low and slightly trembling. your parents would have both of your heads on a spike if they knew what was happening right now.

she slides herself off your hips and moves to dip her fingers into your pants, making you suck in a harsh breath of air. she smirks as her fingers trace over your underwear, relishing in the way you react to her touch.

"youre cute yknow? so sensitive..." she whispers, circling her finger around your clit through the fabric. you moan lowly, hips shifting as a silent plea for more, despite your better judgment. she seems to get the hint, and moves to slide your pants and underwear down– her eyes fixated on your now soaking cunt. feeling rather exposed, you attempt to close your legs, but shes inbetween them, and her hands grip the soft flesh as soon as she feels you hesitate.

"s'funny baby...you don't want me here? then why does your body say otherwise?"

she smirks as she runs her finger through your folds, bottom lip slipping between her teeth as she feels you soak her fingers. "practically dripping f'me" she purrs.

you whine as her fingers find your clit again, rubbing precisely where she knew would make you cry out.

"jinx.." you sigh, looking at her face to see a sinister smirk. she locks her eyes onto yours as she lowers her hand, easily slipping two fingers into you. you moan out, and before you can curse yourself her hand slaps over your mouth.

"shhh, youll wake em up, doll." she giggles, almost as if she didnt have her fingers deep inside of you. you whine against her hand as she thrusts her fingers in and out, curling them into that spot that makes your brain fuzzy. she can feel you getting close, with the way your practically dripping into her palm, and she decided she needed to make you cum, right here, right now.

her thrusts continue, the slick sound making your cheeks heat up as she works you closer to the edge. her chest is heaving softly, the sight of your like this always worked her up, not that she'd ever admit it.

"you close?" she whispers again, hand still over your mouth. you nod desperately, your sounds muffled by her palm. she picks up her pace, practically slamming her fingers into as you writhe beneath her. she groans quietly as she feels you tighten around her fingers like a vice grip, body stilling as you cum, hard.

she lets you ride it out, not stopping until your whine against her palm once more and your thighs are shaking. she removes her hand from your mouth and slams her lips onto yours, biting at your lower lip. your hands find her hips, and without warning, you flip her over so you are hovering over her form. her eyes widen at the sudden movement, a smirk growing on her lips.

"i think its only fair i get you back for that, yeah?" you lean down, face close to hers and you swear you feel her breath hitch in her lungs.

it was only fair, after all, she wanted you to cum? now its her turn.

"keep quiet, or i'll stop" you smirk as your fingers find the waist of her pants.

thank u for the req anon! more to come & feel free to leave me a prompt ;)

#wrote rhis with my pussy #also sorry its short </3 im tired and its 3am lol #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane smut #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx smut #nsfw.mp3 🫧

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sapphic-kpop-fics · 3 days ago

Note

Can I request this Prompt: Wrapping their fingers around your wrist and guiding you to where they desperately need you. With Yeji. Thank you.

Needy (Hwang Yeji x Reader)

Smut

Your girlfriend and leader Yeji was by no means an entirely dominant person, she tried being a serious leader when doing group activities and outside viewers would be surprised at the sight of her currently.

In your bed, shirt and underwear off, wearing only a bra and a skirt that was almost flipped completely up to show her bare bottom half. One hand rests on her upper thigh while the other is palming her chest over the lace fabric while your lips left kisses and bites on her neck. Her breath shook and little whines left her lips which she was biting to mute her noises as the members were scattered through your dorm.

“Please.” She whimpered out, her voice barely there.

“What do you want baby?” You smirk into her neck before pulling away to look at her.

“You know what.” She rolls her eyes a bit.

“I want you to say it.”

“Come on.” She whine, frustration and Impatience took over Yeji as you had been making out and teasing her for an hour by now.

“If you keep acting like that I won’t touch you at all.”

“Seriously?” Her attitude less but still there, “please.” She adds looking at you with big pleading brown eyes, a light pout settling on her lips.

“You’re hard to say no to you know.” You push the hair out of her face, looking at her with a mix of adoration and lust.

“Don’t say no then.” A smile replacing the pout as she grabs the hand on her thigh and slowly pulls it to her center, you can feel how wet she was practically dripping onto your hand, “I need you.”

And who are you to deny her when she’s looking at you like that, blown pupils and the way her chest heaved even as you so much as look at her.

Collecting some of her wetness on your fingers you move them up to start making small circles on her clit making her arch slightly into you, her bare chest brushing against you.

“Fuck.” She whispered out, followed by a whimper muted by her teeth bringing her bottom lip between them, an attempt to keep quiet.

“Gonna be good and be quiet for me?”

“Yes.” You push your fingers into her entrance as she answers, the end of her wording ending up a high pitched whine that gets cut off by her own hand covering her mouth.

“You’re so pretty.”

Yeji just moans at your words, too focused on her pleasure and keeping her volume down, her eyes roll back as you speed on the pace of your fingers.

“Please” Your girlfriend finally manages to get out as moves her hand to your back and she hides her face in your neck to muffled the sounds she’s making.

“Please what baby?”

“I-“ you speed up once again, and you can feel her tighten around you a sign she’s close which is not surprising as you teased her for an hour prior, “I need- fuck.” a couple tears leaves Yeji’s eyes as the pleasure overwhelms her, a hint of frustration in her voice at her absolute need to cum but difficulty of verbalizing it. It doesn’t help that you’re leaving kisses down her neck and chest, sucking and biting the skin as it becomes available to you.

“Need to cum, pretty girl?” You ask, helping her get the release she so desperately wanted, and she was your good girl, she knew to wait until told to cum and to always answer verbally during sex so when she just desperately nods her head.

“Words, baby.”

“Y-yes, please, let me cum, please, i need it.” The words tumble out of her mouth quickly, almost unintelligible, a series of “pleases” are also mumbled after she finishes her sentence.

“Cum for me, baby. You’re doing so well.”

She lets a moan that a little too loud, and definitely heard around the dorm room, as she reaches her release. Eyes rolling back as her nails dig into your back, legs shaking and threatening to close but your body blocks them from doing so as she rides out her orgasm.

“Thank you” Yeji moans, who would’ve thought the leader of one of the biggest girl groups would be thanking you for making her cum.

When she finally settles back into her bed, heavily breathing with eyes closed, arms falling from around you and onto the bed.

“Holy shit.” Is what she says when she gains the ability to think again, finally opening her eyes to see you sitting and staring down at her lovingly, “I love you.”

“I-“ as you’re about to answer you hear a knock.

“Can you guys stop fucking, dinner is ready” Ryujin’s too loud voice breaks through.

Yeji looks absolutely mortified with red cheeks and wide eyes, while you’re giggling down at her causing a pillow to be thrown your way.

“Shut up.” Yeji groans.

#itzy smut #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #kpop smut #itzy x reader #itzy imagines #hwang yeji #hwang yeji x reader #hwang yeji imagines #hwang yeji smut #yeji #yeji x reader #itzy yeji #yeji smut #yeji imagines

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beanarie · 1 day ago

Text

i never wanted water once part 3

tommy is also breakup baking, prompted by my dear @sanguinarysanguinity

tw: mention of parent death, mention of child abuse

part 1

part 2

Gutierrez eyes him on his way out of the locker room. "Feel like no one ever sees you anymore. You coming back to the pickup game or what?"

"Oh." Tommy gives his damp hair one last rub from the towel. "I wasn't planning on it, to be honest. Too awkward."

Gutierrez frowns. "Why?"

"You know," Tommy says, wishing he didn't have to, "Eddie Diaz. I broke up with his best friend."

"Diaz hasn't shown in weeks. Probably got injured. You know how that crew is."

And that. Well. He and Eddie were friends. They became tight very quickly in a way Tommy hasn't experienced with many people. He shouldn't have thrown a connection like that away without at least trying to salvage it.

He sends a text, a polite, generic one asking about his welfare. Worst thing that can happen is Eddie tells him to fuck off and he's back where he started. He fully expects to be left on read.

He does not expect Eddie to tell him he's moving back to Texas because he's given up on his son deciding to come home. Eddie invites him to a pre-going away dinner at a bar and grill before he goes down South for a few days to scout out homes. And, no, absolutely not. But Tommy proposes getting a drink, just the two of them. Eddie very validly explains that he can't spare the time, since he's already started packing up his life and he's working overtime to save up for a down payment. Tommy gets it. He does.

The day after the dinner, Eddie calls him. "Hey, man. I know we're like two ships passing in the night, but I didn't want to leave without a proper goodbye. I still got some more shifts before I move for good, but the time will go by quick. We'll just stay on the line, okay? Keep me company while I go through my kitchen cabinets."

"It's good to hear from you," Tommy says honestly.

"So yeah." Eddie hums. "Why'd you do it?"

"Text you?" Tommy says. "I heard that-"

"Kinard," Eddie says, unamused.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"You just didn't seem the type to flee."

None of you know me as well as you thought you did, Tommy doesn't say. That's not fair to any of them. "I wasn't, in the past. Well, I tried not being that. A couple times. It didn't work out."

"Oh," Eddie says. "There it is."

"There what is?"

"You've got shit."

"Haven't we all?"

"Hey, I am not denying that." Eddie chuckles. "Do you plan on dealing with it, or letting it blow up every good thing you find until you die?"

"Jesus, Eddie."

"What's the point in mincing words? You did something dumb and destructive. What kinda friend would I be if I let that go without saying anything?"

"So what's the weather even like in El Paso? Does it ever get below 100?"

After a groan, Eddie lets Tommy talk about his shit, about Texas, parenthood, and chess clubs, for the rest of the call. Tommy can't say that he'll miss him. He missed him already and now he gets to continue doing so. All of this sucks.

Tommy tries his hand at gnocchi made with ricotta, lemon, and pepper that subsequently almost causes a fistfight during B shift.

Demetra favors him with a warm smile, taking in the large box in his hands. "Tom, right? Welcome! What's all this?"

"Tommy," he says easily, impressed she remembered his name at all. He hasn't been to this slightly dusty community center in five or six years. "Uh, this is garlic knots and mini calzones."

"Well, hey. You're even more welcome than before. Come take a seat."

December is a stupid time to rejoin group, many of the participants close to the edge from a cocktail of seasonal depression, missing dead loved ones, and generalized loneliness. Tommy knew it would be like this going in. He counted on it. Everyone will have so much to say that there likely won't be any time for him to open his mouth. He's not ready to spill. It will help to just soak in the atmosphere of unashamed honesty for a while.

At his third meeting, Cal, a slender guy in his mid twenties with a curly mohawk, keeps bringing up his mother. "She never wanted me to enlist," he says, "and now that I'm back home and struggling, she can't stop being all 'I told you so' morning, noon, and night. She never says it, but she is thinking it."

"Is she?" Tommy finds himself asking. "Or are you putting something on her that isn't there?"

"Maybe so." Cal pops one of Tommy's fried ravioli in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. "I don't know, I should probably give her a chance, think first about what she's actually saying before I react. But it's hard in the moment, you know?"

"Tommy?" Demetra says a minute later, making him feel like a kid being called on by the teacher. "How's your relationship with your mom?"

"Nonexistent. She died when I was fifteen." He crosses his ankles. "Fell asleep in the car on our way back from an away game and we couldn't wake her up. Heart attack."

Demetra frowns sympathetically. "That must've been hard for a kid to witness."

"I've seen so much worse since then. People shot in the head by machine guns, people covered in burns over most of their bodies..."

Demetra shakes her head slightly. "They weren't your mom."

He ducks his head, pressing his lips together. "True. It's just- That's not- It's not trauma. I don't fear falling asleep and not waking up."

"What do you fear?" Cal asks.

Being left, being hurt, being validated in his belief that no one will ever see him for all he is and choose to stick around. "Standard stuff, really. Clowns, taxes, drivers on the freeway."

He gets a pity laugh, a groan or two, and one outright glare. "Okay, okay." He exhales loudly. "Ending up alone by someone else's choice rather than mine."

"So you're cool with being on your own, as long as you're the one keeping everyone away," Cal says.

God, that sounds idiotic. "Yes?"

"You prefer it like this?" asks a woman about his own age wearing a green bomber jacket.

He shrugs. "It's not ideal, but as far as worst case scenarios go, it's okay. It's fine."

"It's spineless," says a gray-haired man with a Desert Storm hat.

Tommy doesn't flinch. "Yeah, that's kind of an inherent character trait. I keep thinking I got it licked, then it shows up wearing another face. Scared of my dad, so I joined the army and became someone he couldn't hurt anymore. Scared of people knowing I was gay, so I waited to come out until I was surrounded by brand new people. Scared of my boyfriend leaving, so." He pushes at the skin above his knees, kneading it. "So I left him first."

"You fall back," says Bomber Jacket. Her name is Annie or Angie. She has conflicted feelings about dating a man with kids. "It's easy to stop being scared when the thing that scared you is far away."

He hears Eddie. You just didn't seem the type to flee.

Demetra holds up a hand. Tommy's face must be doing something concerning. "No one here faults you for what you did to survive. Is it still serving you, is the question, or is that just what you're used to?"

He doesn't bake when he gets home. He drinks half the beers in his fridge and does a shockingly efficient job of cleaning his house, while drafting and deleting twenty-seven different texts. He then wakes up the next day, and goes to the pickup game.

Gutierrez scores four rebounds on him and doesn't shut up about it for the rest of their next shift. Tommy grumbles, and talks shit, and promises he won't have much to brag about next time.

#911 abc #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #my writing #things by beanarie

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nats-firefly · 6 hours ago

Text

choices

sorority!wandanat x reader

summary: Natasha never stays the night, what will happen when someone else shows interest - college au

warnings: smut 18+ only you are responsible for your media consumption, drinking, smoking, it gets a little angsty in the middle

a/n: THIS IS A CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE FIC endgame will depend on your choices. (repost)

I was inspired to do this by @caws5749‘s 1k celebration where she also did a choose your own adventure type story (hers was very cool and is linked here)

🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩

header made by wickussy (iykyk) | feedback is always welcome | masterlist

Natasha has always been straight forward, especially with you. You knew that from the second she strolled into your apartment. Her confidence radiated off her and you were instantly drawn to her.

You threw the last of your clean laundry into your closet just as there was a knock on your door. Glancing over your perfectly and freshly cleaned apartment, you took a deep breath before reaching for the door handle and pulling the door open.

The air was almost knocked out of your lungs at the girl standing on the other side of the door. Her green eyes sparkled as she looked at you, her lips made a popping sound as she pulled the red lollipop from her mouth and reached out her hand, smiling widely.

“Hi, I’m Natasha,” Her voice was sweet and welcoming and the giggle that followed when you didn’t move made your head spin.

“Um, h-hi,” You shook her hand, moving out of the way so she could come into your apartment. “I’m Y/N.”

She walked in, looking around the small kitchen and connected living room. She needed to pretend like she was still making up her mind; she loved the pictures on the ad you put out and after taking one look at you she knew she had to have it. She had to have you.

“Why did the last person move out?” She asked walking through the hallway to the vacant bedroom. “Was it something wrong with the place?”

“Not exactly,” You chuckled, scratching the back of your neck and following her down the hallway and leaning against the doorframe. She looked at you questioningly, tilting her head to the side as she sucked on her lollipop, your eyes dropping down to her lips momentarily before looking back up to her eyes. “She was my kinda girlfriend, but we broke up.”

Perfect, Natasha thought. “Bad break up?”

“For her,” You shrugged. You and Val started sleeping together very soon after you moved in, which went on for almost two years. Until she wanted to commit and you didn’t. She couldn’t take it, you were completely fine with the arrangement you had. Natasha raised her eyebrow at your response, before popping her lollipop out of her mouth once again and turning her body to look at the room. “She wanted to commit, I didn’t.”

“That explains the ‘kinda’,” She moved into the bathroom, looking over the sink then the shower. You moved back into the living room, waiting for her to finish looking over the place. She emerged from the hallway not two minutes after, waving the lollipop stick in the air, now empty. You pointed at the trashcan in the corner and she walked over to it so naturally, you’d think she already signed the lease. “When’s the earliest move-in date?”

“Um, next week?” You said.

“Perfect,” She said with a smile. “How do I apply?”

“You don’t have to,” It slipped out before you could hold yourself back. But if a goddess walked into your apartment asking to move in, you’d probably give her the keys on the spot. “If you want, we can go over the lease and you can pay the deposit tomorrow.”

Natasha smirked and made her way over to you, her hand gripping your chin as she looked into your eyes.

“You’re cute,” She said, before shaking your head briefly and letting go of your chin. She turned her body and found a sticky note and a pen on the counter, quickly scribbling down her number. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Things were so different back then. You couldn’t see yourself wanting to commit to anyone. And then you got tangled in Natasha’s web and everything felt different. You wanted more. More of her laugh, more of her lingering looks, more of her touch, more of her. It never felt like it could be enough.

But you knew she didn’t want more, she was completely fine with what she had. You were wrapped around her finger, always ready for her whenever she needed, in turn she tried to deny it, but knew she would be whatever you wanted her to be, whenever you wanted her.

And you hated it. You hated how much you wanted her, which is why you increasingly looked for distractions whenever Natasha wouldn’t find herself in your bed, ready for you. Your phone buzzed with your most recent and most exciting distraction: Wanda.

homework sucks :/ come help me out?

something tells me if I do your homework isn’t gonna get done

i wasn’t talking about helping me with homework ;)

[i’ll be there in a second]

[busy tonight. are you going to delta psi on friday?]

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff x reader smut #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wandanat x reader smut #bonk.wandanat #bonk.repost

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whiteferraristurns · 23 hours ago

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𝒲𝒜ℛ𝒩ℐ𝒩𝒢𝒮! Smut, pet names, She/her pronouns.

🐻ྀིྀི - i personally think this sucks this is my first time writing smut so please bear with me. I made this so long ago so i’m sorry if it’s actual ass

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬ღ

Chris had never ordered an uber so fast. You had texted him saying that you were finally ready to let him have you.. All of you. You two had been together for almost two years now and you had never gone past heated makeout sessions or some light touches. You were so nervous he wouldn’t like what he saw even though you knew that he worshiped you and he always reminded you of that. He was always so patient with you. He wanted you to be ready and he waited until you were.

The sun was setting, casting a warm glow through your window as you waited for Chris to arrive. you glanced at the clock for the third time in five minutes, anticipation bubbling up in your chest. He had texted you a few minutes ago, saying he was almost there. You couldn’t wait. You were finally ready to give that last part to him. It was a scary thing to think about but you trusted him with your life.

A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. Your heart skipped. You sighed running a hand through your hair before rushing to open the door, your face lighting up as you saw him standing there, his signature grin already on display. “Hey, pretty girl,” Chris greeted, leaning in to give you a quick, soft kiss on the cheek. He looked comfortable and laid-back, wearing his favorite hoodie and a backwards hat that kept his unruly hair in check. You loved that about him—how he always looked so effortlessly good.

“Hey handsome.” you said softly, stepping aside to let him in. "You made it, I thought you’d get lost or something." Chris chuckled, slipping his shoes off. “Oh, please. I could find my way here with my eyes closed at this point.” you smiled and closed the door behind you. You walked up to your room. You sat on the bed looking up at him with your big eyes and innocent looking features. Chris had always loved how pretty and innocent you looked. He was ecstatic that he was the one going to take your virginity. You were the purest not really understanding the jokes he’d thrown around, or how to really do anything.

Part of Chris wanted to bury himself deep inside you as soon as possible and the other part wanted to savor every moment. Your chest rose and fell with every breath. Nervousness bubbling in your chest. “Do you know what it means when we do this baby..?” Chris mumbled. You shook your head. “Words.” he rubbed a hand down your arm. His eyes took in every detail of you and imprinted it into his mind. Your skin glowing beneath the dim lights. “No..”

“It means you won't be the only virgin in our group anymore.” He rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip smirking at his own joke. You rolled your eyes and pushed his hand causing him to chuckle. “Lay back f’me..” you nodded and moved your head onto the comfort of your pillows. Chris kissed your cheek.

He grabbed the hem of our shirt looking at you in approval. You nodded once again. He pulled your shirt up over your head. The light orange bralette that sat perfectly on your chest displayed everything. His face lit up. “When did you get this?” he asked, his fingers ran over the lace.. “Yesterday.. I thought you’d like it..” you sheepishly smiled. “No, I don't like it.” your face dropped. “I love it ma.” Your face filled with obvious relief. “I’m just messing’ with you.”

he chuckled, running a hand down the side of your body leaving goosebumps in his wake. “Lift your hips for me love.” you did exactly as he said. He pulled your shorts down. “Matching panties too? You tease.” you smiled. He kissed your stomach. “Okay once again.. Are you one hundred percent you want to do this?” You nodded. “Yes chris. I’m one hundred and 10 percent.” He smiled up at you and ran a finger over your clothed clit. A gasp left your lips.

He spread your thighs open more. A soft whimper left your lips. “Chris don’t tease..” He frowned. “That’s the best though.” You shook your head lightly. He slowly pulled the panties down your legs. He almost drooled at the set of your dripping wet folds. “You are so wet fuck.”

He cursed. You suddenly got self conscious. You went to close your thighs before Chris stopped you and pushed your thighs open again. “Baby that’s a good thing.. You're gorgeous.” you bit your lip. He leaned down and kitten licked your clit. Causing you to whine. He maintained eye contact. He flattened his tongue against your clit, alternating between long, slow licks and slowly but surely fastening his flicks. He was so fucking hungry for you, for your taste, for the innocence shattering beneath him at this very moment. “Oh fuck- chris,” You gasped, placing your hands in his hair. “I need—oh God.” you threw your head back when he shoved his tongue into your dripping hole.

His hands dug into the fluffy flesh of your thighs.“You taste so fucking good.” He mumbled against you. The unfamiliar feeling bubbling up in your stomach. “Chris i-” you gasped he pulled away slightly rubbing his finger over your sensitive bud. “Just let go Ma.” he breathed, leaning back down and continuing his pace. He sucked and licked and till you started to shake under him. Your thighs closed around his head, he quickly pushed them back open. You bucked your hips against his face.

Chris pulled away with a big smirk on his face. He licked his lips. “You did so good f’me” you looked at him with a blushed out face he leaned up and kissed you shoving his tongue into your mouth. You could taste yourself on his tongue. He pulled away and dropped his head into your neck sucking dark marks into your skin. He trailed down your neck onto the cleavage of your tits.

He continued to suck dark marks. He pulled the bralette off you and dropped his head instantly sucking onto your perky nipples. You moaned softly as he kneaded your left one. He switched and gave some attention to your other one. You ran a hand through his hair. He pulled off with a small “plop” which caused you to flush. He smirked up at you. “Your so pretty baby.”

He stood up pulling his shirt off and then his sweatpants. An obvious wet spot was forming from his boxers. He discarded his boxers quickly after. Your eyes darted down, you couldn't help it. You had always imagined something like this but it scared you. “baby..” He chuckled.

Your face flushed with embarrassment. He rolled on a condom and got up back on top of you hovering over you. “I wish I could say this isn't gonna hurt but if it becomes too much you tell me okay sweetheart?” He reassured you. “Okay.. I trust you..” He nodded and rubbed his throbbing head against you. You whined. He slowly pushed into you. You grabbed his bicep.

He wasn't even half way in and it hurt. It hurt so bad you almost called it then but Chris kissed your cheek. He completely stopped his movements and looked at you with scared eyes. “You can continue..” you mumbled. He nodded and pushed more in. He hissed at how tight you squeezed him. Once he was fully in you you looked up at him with tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “I’m gonna move okay..?” He asked.

You shook your head, eyes glossy. He soothed your hair out slowly moving out and then back in. The pain slowly turning into pleasure. “You can go faster.” He bit back a smirk and picked his pace up. Everytime thrusted into you the more that feeling bubbled back into your stomach.

“Fuck mamas your taking me so good.” He grabbed your hips. “Chris!” you screamed as he pushed himself deeper into your gummy walls. He repeatedly hit your G- spot. Yours and his orgasm ripped through you both. Your moans and his groans mixed together as you both came undone on each other.

As he pulled out you whimpered at the loss of contact. You felt so full with him in you. He disappeared into the bathroom. You sighed with a huge smile on your face. He came back out with a warmed washcloth cleaning you up. His face seemed so focused on making sure you were clean.

He brushed the sweaty pieces of hair off your face. “Arms up.” You lifted your arms up as he slipped his shirt over your body then slipped your underwear up your legs and over your hips. You two slipped under your covers as you laid on his chest listening to his soft heartbeat. “Was it just how you imagined..?” he mumbled, rubbing small patterns into your hip. “Even better. Thank you, handsome.” You mumbled back. He smiled like a kid in a candy store and pulled you closer. “I love you pretty girl.” you hummed back and drifted off into sleep in the comfort of your boyfriend's arms.

🐻ྀིྀི shatter me reference? (Iykyk..) ALSO PLEASE TELL ME HOW YOU GUYS FEEL ABOUT THIS😓

TAGS ʚ♡ɞ @sturniqloo @strnilolover @themotherofmattschildren @chrislilcumslvt @il0vecatzzz @aymeesblog @heartz4matt @mattsfavginger @ncm9696 @starfuckoff @chrissturnioloslvt @n0tnovaa @ghostlyplug

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paigeluvvr · 19 hours ago

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roles switched

summary: paige let you guys switch roles

warnings: SMUTTT!! fingering giving head hair pulling squirting strap on sex overstimulation

paige x reader

you and your girlfriend was going out tonight with her teammates. you didn’t want to go but the thought of drinking got you. “babe you almost ready?” paige asks you coming into talks shared bedroom. “yeah i’m done, how do i look?” you ask paige “fucking amazing baby, can i have a 360?” you understand why she would want this because you are literally dressed like a slut right now. “yeah” you say as you begin to turn around. she grabs your ass while your in the middle of turning. “now can i have a kiss?” “you don’t have to ask.” paige says and kisses your lips.

the bar has this energy that is booming and you can see, smell, and hear it. so you know there will be a headache coming in sooner or later. so you go to the bar and order you and paige’s drink. “how can i help you ma’ma?” the bartender asked you. “um can i have a shirley temple and a vodka soda.” “yes i will have that right with you miss.” “thank you.”

you go back to the booth they are all at to give paige her drink and sit down. “here you go baby.” she looks at you surprised “thank you baby but i didn’t have to buy this for me.” she tells you. “i know i just wanted to do something nice.” she gets out of her seat to kiss you on the lips.

“babyyy” paige comes to your seat and you can already tell she had way more drinks then needed. “yes baby?” you say to her “can we leave i’m starting to feel sick and i have a headache.” she tells you and you feel bad because she looks as what she says. “aww baby yes we can leave, do you want to tell the girls bye?” you ask her. “no can you just text them i don’t fell good.” you tell her ok and yall walk out of the bar.

“baby i don’t feel so goo-.” paige tells you before she throws up into a trash can. “paige baby are you okay?” you ask her and she keeps throwing up. after what felt like hours she finally says “ok baby now we can actually leave.” so you walk her to the car and she says she ok to drive and you trust her. “baby can i have a kiss?” “i would love too but you just vomited everywhere so no sorry.”

yall are back at home for about an hour when paige says “baby can you top me tonight?” you looked at her surprised because you didn’t think she would let you top her. “um yeah if you want me to.” you tell her and she gets supper happy. “yay i can’t wait.” she tells you and that is what makes you say “we can do it tonight right now.” “oh my god yes!” she tells you as you get up and drag her to yalls shared bedroom to fuck her. “baby i need you so baddd.” paige tells you. “really how bad?” you ask her and she shoves her boxers down to show you how bad. “oh my gosh p your soaked.” “i know ma that’s how bad i want you and how much you turn me on.” she says so you waste no time in pushing her down on the bed. “OH FUCK!” paige says as you suck on her clit. “does that fell good baby?” you tease paige and she nods but you won’t accept that. “words baby.” “ye-s fuck it fe-els so go-od.” she says so you go faster. “oh god.” you can tell she’s close because her moans are turning into screams. “i’m cummin-g s-o hard.” she is now gushing in your face and her hands are pulling your hair so hard it might bleed. “good girl.” you tell her has she sits up and your up too.

you come back from the closet with a black box that you and her know to well. “ma i hope you don’t think your fucking me with that.” she says to you. “baby yes i am i’m topping you so i get choose what i do.” you tell her because you do have control so you strip out of your clothes and attach the harness on your waist. you waste no time in shoving the strap into her cunt so she lets out a cute little squeal. “baby!” you start slow so she can get use to the feeling. now that she is used to the feeling you are plowing into her at a pace that is deadly.

“oh god!” paige says as you pound into her like you’ve been doing for the past 15 minutes. she has already came 7 times going in her eighth according to her. “you gonna cum again?” you ask her teasing her. “y-eah.” she says and you can feel how tight she is so you pull out of her edging her. “baby why did you stop.” she asks you so you say “wait baby.” you get off the bed and head over to your bed side table that has a drawer full of vibrators. you pull out the biggest one and he eyes widened but your already putting it on the highest setting and placing it on her clit. “it’s too much.” she tells you and you don’t care. “i’m gon-na cum!” and just like that she is gushing and you notice something else. paige bueckers just squirted on you. “holy shit am i pissing?” she asks you and you laugh. “no baby you squirted that was hot.” she turns red from that.

after yall clean up and stuff yall lay back down. “goodnight baby i love you.” you tell her “goodnight ma i love you more and can you top me more?” she asked which earns a slap on the arm. “owwww”

finally finished this after forever…😫

taglist: @sierrale8ne @thaatdigitaldiary @lovegalor333 @lupinqs @paiges-1vur @avvwritesstufff @moshuka @paigebueckersmommy @azzibuckets @writingbuckets @ohbueckers @cosmopretty @bbydoll18xx @pb524830 @pbnbucks

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fic #paige x reader #paigeluvrr #tallyn fics ✨

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neysaadept · 3 days ago

Text

Prometheus Chapter 9

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 9 - Why Do You Keep Saying No?

Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Drinking. Smoking. Slow Burn. Murder. Depictions of Flaying. Implied Rape. Mentions of Date Rape Drugs. Strangulation. Restraints. Mental Institutions. PTSD. Childhood trauma. Psychological Trauma. Implied references to child abuse. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 6.6k (and I thought the last one was long)

AO3

Chapter 8

Two weeks have gone by since Indio and you turn inward, boxing up your feelings with a neat bow to return to status quo but you’re sure Prentiss wasn’t buying it. Thankfully, she was too busy with section chief duties to really bother you. Instead, you branch out and integrate further with the team at work. JJ found out you liked to run and meets you at Quantico a couple of days during the week once the kids were off to school to do it together. She took you around different parts of the campus to better familiarize the area. You and Rossi spend a lot of time talking about the history of profiling and the integration of its use into modern investigation techniques in his office as the two of you knock out paperwork. You also have a spirited conversation on why the Bears suck and where you were when the Cubs won the World Series. You, Tara, and Rebecca finally have a night together which you felt comfortable doing. You went to a nice Italian restaurant, knocked back a bottle of wine, and shared the basics on how you and Rebecca met, played pretend girlfriends as vengeance, and all about the HSC she was curious about.

You almost felt normal. But since you didn’t know what that was, perhaps you were just being human.

You and Brian kept in touch by phone and text since you weren’t needed face to face yet. He reminds you of your upcoming psych check in tomorrow which you send back an eyeroll emoji to express your disinterest but of course you would go. It was mandatory for as long as you said yes to joining the CIA.

Your side project with Penelope was also set up as FlamePit23 came up empty with any identifiable information. She ran an algorithm for most used words, phrases, and idiosyncrasies to assist the team pretend to be this woman. You, on the other hand, convinced Prentiss that it should be you posting as this user when the three of you talked about this in Garcia’s lair.

“It should be me,” you urged. “If this some how works and there’s a meeting, it needs to be a non-BAU related agent since Bailey outed you all at that fucking press conference. You know he’s looking into you if not already since the news of the shipping container broke.”

“Have you done this sorta thing before?” Penelope asks with that curious need that went beyond knowing a skillset. She wanted to know you!

You shake your head back and forth in debate before nodding. “Yeah.”

Her eyes widen and she squeals reading between the lines. “Are you a spy like Emily?!”

You lean back with a huff. “I can neither confirm nor deny this.”

“Oh my god! You’re a spy!” She points at you with excitement and then claps.

“I’m not not saying I’m a spy …”

Emily holds her hands up to stop the back and forth. “Regardless of how Whitlock came to possess these abilities, I’m authorizing her to make contact. But,” she looks sternly at the two of you, “you do this together and inform me the minute Sicarius takes the bait. Understood?”

“Yes Ma-!” Garcia was starting to say but the glare from Prentiss forced her to clamp her mouth shut.

You didn’t care. “Yes, Ma’am.”

And you so loved how Prentiss’ glare turned into a flustered eyeroll. Penelope noticed too.

There was also the case of Penelope blabbing out about your military training that piqued Luke’s interest since he was a former Army Ranger. Since there is downtime, he offers a chance to cut loose with you and spar instead of just beating on the heavy bag. With how you’re feeling, this was exactly what you needed. Not the psychiatrist. Good old fashion physical exertion with an opponent.

What you didn’t realize as you were getting ready in the locker room, is that the entire team, sans Prentiss, are going to be spectators … and there were bets. They knew Luke’s background and since yours was up in the air with how much military training you had coupled with what you learned from the CIA as a special agent, there was debate on who had the edge. Odds were 3/2 in Luke’s favor, but the team was split. JJ and Rossi bet on Luke and Penelope and Tara on you.

The four of them put out folding chairs at a safe distance from the blue sparring mat in a semi-circle, though JJ has her turned around to sit backwards on it for her own awkward comfort. There were other agents using the bags and practicing maneuvers scattered about the rest of the room, uncaring what the BAU was up to. Luke was first to arrive from the locker room with the appropriate red headgear and MMA boxing gloves, a black tank and shorts. You both decided on bare feet. He pats his chest and looks to JJ as she starts whooping. Rossi was amused.

Penelope was animatedly giving the double thumbs down as Tara booed. “You’re going down, Alvez! Whitlock’s gonna kick your ass!”

“Bullshit! My boy’s gonna drop her in five!” jeers JJ.

“Booooooo! A pox upon Alvez!” Penelope fires back.

“What in the hell’s going on here?” Prentiss’s voice carries over the trash talk. “I go looking for my team to check on deadlines and you’re all nowhere to be found. I only had this clue.”

She holds up a hot pink stinky note with the elegant scrawl of Penelope’s that said:

GYM AT 1200 MY LOVELIES

It was signed with a heart.

“Well,” she stood there with no answer and thrusts the note further, curling her other arm around her stomach. “Would someone like to explain why you’re all not at your desks working and Luke’s dressed like that?”

“Ah, just having some fun, Prentiss,” says Luke, knocking his gloves together. “Blowing off some steam.”

“And to be fair, you weren’t around to give a heads up,” explains Tara.

“You weren’t in your office,” says Rossi with a shrug. “We did look.”

“You all have access to my calendar to know where I’m at,” she shoots back while crumpling the sticky note, making Penelope pout. “Seriously. You all have better things to do-“

“Better things like what?” you ask, having joined the group after silently watching Prentiss berate the team. You watch as she turns around, her disappointing eyes switch immediately to surprise.

Like Luke, you wore the same red headgear and gloves but had your hair tied back in a ponytail. You also play with the mouthguard dangling from between your teeth as brown eyes look you up and down. You wore a blue sports bra and matching cross training shorts that showed off your lean, muscular build. The section chief never had a chance to see what was under all that clothing, unlike JJ who you ran with.

Rossi smirks and makes an educated announcement. “I think Emily’s in.”

“I, uh …” She has to tear her eyes away and looks at the expectant group. “Fine.”

You wonder why she gave in so quickly but shrug it off. “Hold on.”

Realizing Prentiss didn’t have a seat, you jog over to get another chair and set it up for her. Tara and Penelope raise a brow towards one another with interest. JJ commends the chivalry. “How nice of her to treat the boss right.”

“Oh, just shut it, Jareau.” But there wasn’t any bite in the words as she sat down and crossed her arms.

She ends up by Penelope who rocks side to side on her chair in thought before leaning towards Emily. “So, are you in on the betting since you’re all interested in the fight now?”

Penelope’s way of saying she was well aware of how quickly Emily’s tune changed after seeing Whitlock in different clothes without actually saying it. At least she wasn’t poking fun of her for it … yet.

Oh, what the hell, she thinks and nods. “What’re the odds?”

“3 to 2 favoring Luke. Me and Tara are on team cutie. Rossi and JJ are with Luke.”

Prentiss watches you and Luke discuss the terms of the fight. He had a height advantage and Ranger training, but you had similar training too. She had her suspicions that special forces were in charge of your training considering your secretive background. You clearly put forth effort into keeping in shape due to the demands of being a CIA operative, much to her wandering eyes delight. And since you were not not a spy, she was certain you had more in your bag of tricks than even those betting in your favor knew.

“Put me down for Whitlock,” she says without tearing her eyes away from you.

Penelope has to fight so hard that it wasn’t the only thing that Emily wants to go down on with Whitlock, but she behaves! She deserves a medal for that even though she should say it because Emily crumpled the cute note she wrote the team!

You and Luke tap gloves and both take three feet backwards to provide enough room to start. He put himself in a standard krav maga stance, relaxing his posture with a foot forward and his hands before him with his fingers spread out.

You just stood there, studying him, with your chin tucked down and standing similar to Luke. You were defensive without him easily reading you, which is what you want. You had been strenuously trained how to take down men like him in the field, and not just by military means alone. This would not be a flashy fight, but a fight to end quickly and decisively.

When you lock eyes you both nod as the agreed upon way to start the fight, and it begins.

Luke opens up offensively with straight punches that you anticipated. You duck down and back sweep Luke off his feet.

Rossi blinks in disbelief at what just happened in a few seconds. JJ looks the same but was able to verbalize what they both saw. “Holy crap!”

“She went all Karate Kid on him!” cheers Penelope but then has to admonish you playfully in the next breath. “But do not put him in a body bag! You are not Johnny Lawrence!”

Your brain was aware of the audience but as they were not a threat, it was background noise. The focus was Luke rolling off his back to stand up, which you allow. Now he knows you’re quick and would adjust his strategy, as would you. He lunges forward with an arm as a feint, but the true attack comes when he raises his dominant leg to kick into your side. You strike your forearm down for the block and with a focused yell, you thrust your palm forward and connect against Luke’s chest. You hear him wheeze at the sudden loss of air you force out of him as he goes down.

“What sort of training did you say she had again, Pen?” asks Tara. “Not that I’m upset that we’re winning so far, but this is pretty intense.”

“Just military.” She shrugs. “Nothing specific.”

“Looks like a bit of Marine training, maybe,” Rossi says offhandedly, but he wasn’t entirely convinced. Having served himself, he could see traces of the training he had but he could also tell you were drawing off other techniques in those few moves.

Prentiss wasn’t so sure that the military training you shared was what you were relying on either. You were anticipating Luke far too easily which indicated a more stringent martial arts training like Muay Thai or Jeet Kune Do. You were extraordinary to watch in these few moments with how you took command of the fight. You were stunning.

“Luke!” JJ shouts. “Stop falling on your ass and do something!”

His answer is a cough as you put more distance between him, allowing him a chance to get up. This is not how you would normally be out in the field, but this was a friendly fight and would give him one more chance. You watch as he puts an elbow to the mat to swing his body around and get to his feet. He sees you standing at attention, studying him.

“Okay …” he starts to say before taking several deep breaths while rubbing his chest. “That hurt.”

You remain impassive as you visualize dozens of scenarios that Luke could take. As he starts to come at you again, you block his punches with forearms, moving him around the mat with quick feet. You set him up how you want and fire back with two punches and a hook that he blocks but he misses how your heel turns at him, setting Luke up for a spin kick that connects right in his gut. Your feint works.

“Luke get up!” Which JJ does herself. She hopes that her voice will give him some strength to turn this fight around. Rossi is left shaking his head in amazement.

“Holy shit, girl!” Tara howls while clapping.

“She hasn’t won yet!” reminds Penelope.

“Eh, she will.” Emily points to you as you rush to the ground to hook one of Luke’s arms under yours and his head under the other. “Luke fell into her trap. She was playing him the whole time.”

With a firm grip of his tank, you tuck your head against his shoulder and plant your legs wide to counter any leverage he may have.

Luke struggles to find any give to overpower you. He tries to push up with his legs but is unable to flip over. Next, he tries moving his shoulders but with how you are able to control his upper torso, there was no momentum to even start. He grunts and pants, trying in vain to get off his back or get his legs around you, but your head was safely tucked in against his shoulder from any advantage he could find. As a last resort, he flails his arms to try and get a grip on anything, but your head was just out of reach as intended.

Rossi sighs, throwing his hands up. “I think we’re gonna have to call it.”

JJ sits down with a strangling groan as Penelope rises to her feet and applauds, cheering your name. “I knew you’d win!”

With controlling breaths, you confirm the victory with Luke. “You yield?”

He strains against your hold one last time before going limp. “Yes!”

And just like that, you untangle your arms free from him and hop up to stand. He looks up at you while catching his breath, arms flopping over his body to work out the tension your hold causes. “What the fuck, Whitlock...” His chuckle betrays his amusement despite his words sounding vicious. “I never had a chance, did I?”

“Kinda the idea to be underestimated.” You grin, offering a hand to help him to his feet. “Maybe you’ll have better luck next time.”

“Oh, you know it! Now I know what to expect.” He laughs, patting you on the back before you half hug each other with respect.

As Rossi and JJ were taking out money to settle the bet with Garcia, Tara and Emily were heading over to you. Tara playfully pushes your shoulder with a big smile. “That was impressive.”

You shrug and start feeling self-conscious. Prior to the CIA you would have bragged about your win and talked trash at Luke at how easily you won, but you have learned humility. “Thank you.”

Prentiss is surprised by the lack of bravado and found it quite interesting. This was a perfect time for playfully belittling Alvez losing after a commanding victory. But no. You were displaying genuine gratitude for showcasing your abilities.

One thing’s for sure, you can handle yourself in the field far better than I initially thought, she muses. “You had a lot more than military training.”

You blush and bring up a gloved hand, bringing your index finger and thumb together. “Maybe a wee bit.”

“Luke’s on to something, though,” she says, and you quirk a brow in question. “Think you can find time and pass some of this knowledge down to the team?”

“Uh …” you start rubbing the back of your neck at the unspoken compliment from Prentiss. It took you off guard and have to force your eyes to tear away from the intensely expecting brown ones that were fixed on you. You look around at the team and gently nod. “Sure. I, uh, I can do that.”

“Ladies!” Everyone’s attention was on Garcia now. “We have enough money to cover girls’ night tomorrow thanks to our CIA cutie de-mol-li-shing Lukey there!”

JJ comes up and punches her partner in the arm which makes him yelp. “Lucky I get drinks outta this but you!” She points at you. “You, me and darts.”

Prentiss smiles at the challenge. “My money’s on JJ then.”

You look quickly at Prentiss as you need to clarify something since the section chief hasn’t been acting like a sore loser. “Does that mean you bet on me?”

“I did,” she confirms with a nod. She knew who was going to win the moment you stepped into view, and it wasn’t just because she was caught off guard by how attractive you were. “I know a winner when I see one.”

“And this winner is finally going to go out with us!” Penelope joins the group flashing the wad of bills in the air in front of your face. “You flaked out last time.” Your eyes start to widen with apology, and she juts her lower jaw out petulantly. “No! You can’t bail on us again!”

“I’m sorry. I got CIA shit I need to deal with again,” The lie easily rolls off your tongue and the team accepts it. The only difference is that Prentiss was here this time when you said it and she was not convinced. She kept her poker face as you continue. “Full time consultant for the FBI still needs to go home and take care of things.”

“You’ve got to be kidding! You won us mad money to blow at the bar! You deserve to partake.” Tara says, trying to stroke your ego and win you over.

You half grin and shake your head no. “I’m really sorry. But hey! Think about it this way, there’s more food and drinks for all of you.” It was difficult for the BAU ladies to be upset with you for too long with that point. “I’ll even throw in another fifty as compensation for my absence.”

“Deal!” JJ swoops in to answer so fast to seal the deal.

“Good, now, I’m off to shower.” You look cheekily at Prentiss. “Think our boss might want us back working soon.”

“Astute observation, Whitlock. Fun’s over. Back to work. Except for you, Alvez.” She waves him off with a cringe. “You smell.”

The group laughs and he looks hurt. “What? And she doesn’t?”

Prentiss takes a hard look at you, and you fight a tremble that wants to erupt under her examination. Your skin was barely flushed with exertion, hair unkempt and loosened from the fight. There was just a small perceptible sheen of perspiration on your body or clothing, unlike Luke who had to work hard at trying to get at you or escape your hold. “Not that I can tell.”

Rossi whistles. “Take a hint, Luke, and go before you put the other foot in your mouth.”

Back at Langley, Brian was in his office between meetings working on getting his five recruits together for the holidays that were quickly approaching. It was going to be tricky as the other four were on various assignments around the world for the CIA just like you before Wilson roped you onto the BAU. He had to start pulling strings now and organize the right moves to get everyone stateside that would not compromise mission integrity. The other four recruits were not deep into a long-term op as you were so it would be easier, but not guaranteed. If he could pull it off, he knew it would make everyone happy, especially you and his wife. He started to think about this since mentioning it last month with you and instead of waiting until after your BAU assignment, he was trying to make it an earlier surprise.

Barton: Hey, I know you said not to bother you but there’s an Emily Prentiss from the FBI on the phone that wants to talk to you.

Eliza Barton was his executive assistant, and she knew that if Whitlock’s new boss wanted to talk, that she could inform Brian as she did just now over chat. Of course, he had to wonder what you did to prompt this call.

Korogoth: Go ahead and transfer the call.

His phone immediately rings and picks up. “I’m actually surprised it took you this long to call me. So … “ he leans back in his chair, “what did she do?”

“I’m sorry?” He heard Prentiss’ confusion.

“Whitlock. What did she do to prompt this phone call?” he clarifies.

“Oh. Nothing. She’s been a great addition to the BAU.”

That caught him by surprise, He wasn’t able to formulate a response because when people called him about you, it was due to your rough around the edge’s smartass remarks or skirting around orders that were still within bounds but questionable. Hearing a compliment was unexpected. Nice, but unexpected.

“That’s wonderful to hear. I’m pleased she’s acclimating herself to your team. Which makes me wonder what I can do for you.” The only other potential issue he could surmise was the stipend, but the money was easily allocated to the BAU budget. There were no issues with finance that he was aware of.

“The team and I want to know if you can reschedule her CIA commitments this weekend so she can join us for some socialization. Obviously matters of national security we understand.”

He had to think really hard what CIA commitments you had which ended up being none. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

There was a pause before Prentiss spoke up again. “She said last weekend and this she couldn’t come out to girls’ night because she’s unable to take care of all of her CIA duties being a full-time consultant.”

He rolls his head back in understanding. You were lying to the BAU because you didn’t want to hurt their feelings and used your non-existent CIA duties as a cover because no one would be able to verify it. You just didn’t know how tenacious Prentiss was when she put her mind to a task and clearly the section chief wanted you there with the team. It actually warmed his heart that the team took to you in this way and were disappointed you couldn’t be with them like this. And here he was worried that your gruff, humorous demeanor would rub your teammates the wrong way and cause friction as it had done with teams in the past. Which it did in the beginning, but Brian wasn’t aware of your fight with Prentiss yet.

“I think there’s been some mistake. She doesn’t have anything going on that requires her attention.” Yes, he was going to throw you under the bus and force you to be social. And yes, he warned you to be careful since you hadn’t been integrated into these situations in a long time, but this might do you some good as long as you kept the majority of your history quiet.

“None?” Prentiss sounded confused.

“Yeah, none. Her only obligation is to the BAU.”

“Huh. Interesting.”

He smiles against the receiver knowing that her mind was already working out a solution to your behavior. “Yeah. That’s one way of putting it.”

“Well, I won’t take up anymore of your time.”

“Nonsense. You can call me anytime regarding Whitlock if need be.”

“I appreciate that. Though that doesn’t surprise me.”

He furrows his brow. “Why’s that?”

“Oh, she let me know you recruited her.”

His chest tightened with surprise. You barely tell anyone that unless it was with good reason. What reason did you have to tell Prentiss this? “She did?”

“Yeah. She couldn’t go into the details, but it came up during an off the clock meeting.”

Since when did you have off-the-clock meetings? Brian was baffled by this odd course of events. “Well, she must trust you to offer that up. And considering we worked together once upon a time, Whitlock’s on target with that.”

“Isn’t that nice of you to say. But I do need to be going now. Too much work and not enough time to do it.”

He chuckles. “Same here. Oh, but before you go?”

“Yes?”

“It was complete bullshit that Bailey got the job, and you didn’t.” When he learned that Douglas Bailey was tapped to take the deputy director’s role instead of Prentiss, who made the short list, he was furious. He had to do his own reorganization of the CIA executive roles, but he put qualified candidates in place when the org chart was settled and not some bureaucratic tools of upper management that cared only for budget cuts, dissolving departments, and a whole lot of ass kissing. Yeah, there was a new normal after the pandemic, but there were ways to be efficient without favoritism.

There was a lengthy pause on the other end, but Brian was patient enough to wait it out.

“Thanks, Brian. That means a lot.” Another pause. “Actually, before we hang up, can I ask a favor?”

Friday night came and you are curled up on the couch reading Nona the Ninth with Metallica blasting through the surround sound at the safehouse. The condo was located in the Penn Quarter, one of many units in the seven-story complex. The unit you are occupying is available on loan to CIA agents that were displaced and needed short-term lodgings. This was never used for CIs* or anyone under arrest due to the high foot traffic in the area. Operatives had ample places to eat whether they were allowed to roam about or ordered delivery only. Public transportation was easily accessible to go anywhere in the DC area. Best part is you have a parking spot in the garage, a hot commodity in a city.

The condo was modern in design with white walls, hardwood floors and track lighting shaped in a V overhead. There were white chairs and a glass table close to the kitchen but left enough area open to walk through. The couch matched the design of the chairs with comfortable throw pillows, one that was cradling your head against the couch arm. A large screen TV was mounted on the wall to the left of the patio doors that led to a cramped balcony, but the view of the gardens below was spectacular. Generic pictures and fake plants rounded out the area to attempt hominess.

Living here for the last month has been nice but you didn’t commit to making it your own yet as you were still trying to come to terms with being in one place for an extended period of time in the states. As you are winding down from the day at Quantico, you treat yourself to a tumbler of Moscato. There are wine glasses, but you are not picky about what glass you use, just what is in easy reach. It is the perfect evening that you’re comfortable with … until there was a knock at the door.

You put the book down against your stomach with a concerning face. There was nothing on your agenda tonight so no one from the CIA should be here. Everything had to go through Brian for approval to set up a meeting here and if it was him stopping by, he would have texted you.

So, what the fuck?

You swing your legs off the couch to sit up, setting the book on the oval glass coffee table. You pad over barefoot to the open kitchen and grab your Glock that is holstered on the brown speckled quartz countertop. You pull it free and remove the safety, leaving the holster behind as you approach the foyer when another knock occurs. With your gun pointed parallel to the door, you lean forward to look through the peephole and see … Emily Prentiss?

What is she doing here and how the fuck did she find me?

You unlock the door and slowly open it unable to smooth your features away to look any less confused. Emily was dressed casually in two-inch flat-heeled boots, jeans, a red blouse that you couldn’t help noticing it accentuated her chest and had the usual long coat on. Your brain was finding this hard to comprehend right now that Emily Prentiss was standing at your door.

She returns the favor and studies you as the music shuffles to the next song - Training Season by Dua Lipa. You had positioned yourself in a defensive stance by the door, ready to bring your gun arm around if needed. Brown eyes enjoy the view as you had pajama shorts on and a black CIA tee which spoke of all the work you were supposedly doing with the agency – which was none. She locks eyes with yours with a self-satisfied smile.

I need someone to hold me close, deeper than I've ever known

Whose love feels like a rodeo, knows just how to take control

When I'm vulnerable, he's straight-talking to my soul

Conversation overload, got me feeling vertigo*

She breaks the silence. “Busy working, huh?”

You scramble for an excuse, totally out of your element and comfort to be your cocky sure self. “I …Hey!” But that didn’t stop Prentiss from inviting herself in. “The hell, Prentiss!”

She strides through the foyer with hands in her coat pockets as you put the safety on your gun on the way to the kitchen. “Please, come on in!” you say venomously and place your gun back on the counter. You did not appreciate her behavior at all.

You could tell she was taking it all in to figure you out, but there was nothing of note to process as you still hadn’t brought your items in from storage. Everything was all chosen by the CIA as Emily soon surmised.

“Why did you lie?” she asks, eyes going to the tumbler and book on the coffee table. The only signs of you.

“Oh, no. You, first. How the fuck did you find me?” How dare she, how dare the BAU, break into parts of the CIA to find out where the hell she was. Penelope wasn’t doing that anymore!

She turns around and with one word shatters your anger into anxiety. “Korogoth.”

Why would Brian give up your location without your knowledge? That wasn’t the protocol you put in place. Unless … unless he fucking knew you’d run off and avoid a confrontation with Prentiss and come straight to him asking to be moved. Which really would only delay the inevitable conversation that you were going to have right now. You were well aware of the irony that you wanted to be included with the team at work but socially was fucking scaring you shitless. It always scared you shitless, which is why you’ve kept any personal involvement at work. Meeting Tara for dinner with Rebecca was different. It was a small intimate gathering and you would have done that with anyone that she was dating.

You once again stand before Prentiss with no retort because clearly your father figure wanted this to happen. As that shut you down, Emily continues. “So, why did you lie?”

You work your jaw and cross your arms, refusing to answer.

With a small tilt of her head, Emily nods. “Alright, you don’t have to tell me, but you’re going out with us.”

Your heart clenches as your eyes widen. “What? No!”

“You’re disappointing everyone,” she says, and you realize that meant her too. Because if she wanted to separate her feelings, she would have said the team.

“Won’t be the first time,” you point out petulantly.

Emily’s brown eyes squint. “And it won’t be now. You’re part of the team and the team’s going out.” With that declaration, she’s off to your bedroom.

“Hey!” You call out and stalk after her, but she already turned the corner.

By the time you made it into the main bedroom, Prentiss already opened the doors to your closet and was rifling through your minimal ensembles. “Geesh, Whitlock. You’re not giving me much to work with.”

“That’s fine because I think I made it clear I wasn’t going out,” you affirm before sitting on the queen size bed.

The bedroom was white and had hardwood floors like the rest of the condo, filled with basic modern furniture and pictures. Your personal duffel was stuffed under the bed that contained pieces of you and remained hidden. Nothing of importance was in the closet or in plain sight.

“And I think I made it clear you’re coming,” she says pulling out a pair of jeans to toss at you.

You set it aside with a huff. “This is ridiculous.”

“So’s hiding. Oh, this works.” Prentiss had to reach far inside to the back of the rack and finds a dark grey long-sleeved V-neck crisscrossed ribbed fitted top. She turns while taking it off the hanger and tosses it at you. “Get dressed.”

You look up at her with a scowl as you set aside the blouse. “Whatever you think’s gonna happen, regardless if Brian approves, it’s not.”

“Then tell me why not,” she presses and when you don’t respond, Emily comes to sit next to you on the bed. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what it is you’re scared of. And I swear to god if you cite it’s classified, I’m going to bury you in so much paperwork that you’ll think your first three days with me was a vacation.”

Fuck, you couldn’t help laughing at that. “Well shit. Can’t have that.”

You look to Prentiss and realize that the two of you are almost brushing shoulders with how close you are, but what really caught your attention was the sincerity in her eyes. She was pushing this because she cared. Emily said it herself; you are part of the team, and she cares deeply for the team. This was quite the shift since those tenuous first days when you were seen as a threat.

She saw you as a member of the team. It was a bit of a mind fuck to wrap your head around that truth.

You think back to the last time someone took this much interest in your well-being and you had one answer. Brian Korogoth saving your ass at twelve years old and that was a long fucking time ago for someone to give a shit about you that wasn’t just in the best interest of your country or as a CIA asset. Your three brothers and sister were thrusted together under similar circumstances and became a found family because you needed each other to succeed with Brian being the strong, caring hand that guided you all to be better people.

Prentiss didn’t have to do shit and went above and beyond to track your ass down just for a social night with the team. There was nothing in it for her except for your well-being.

You lower your head and stare blankly at your lap because your eyes threatened to tear up with a surge of affection that came over you. “You may find this shocking, but I really suck at being part of a group.”

She leans forward a little to try and catch your gaze, but you wouldn’t look up. “I don’t find that surprising at all.”

Your brow furrows and in one blink, are side eyeing her. “Why?”

Prentiss fans her hands out as she speaks. “Well, you being a not not spy comes with a lot of loneliness and awkwardness. You get wrapped up in everything that you’re supposed to be and forget what it means to be you.”

Oh, if Emily only knew it went far deeper than that, though she wasn’t entirely wrong. She understood the pressure of undercover assignments where you never knew if a subtle fuck up would mean your death. “Not completely untrue, but not the entire picture either.”

“Fill it in for me. What am I missing?” she urges gently.

You blow out a strong breath between your lips while rubbing the palms of your hands along your bare thighs. You are displaying how vulnerable you are, but you blame Brian for putting you in this position. “What did he tell you. Brian.”

“Where you live an-.”

Your only focus is what she said first. “No one is supposed to know where I am. So, why’d he tell you?”

She purses her lips and shrugs. “Because I presented an important case.”

“Which was?” you ask warily.

“That you needed to take better care of yourself.”

Fuck it all, that’s what Brian wants too.

Great.

“Helps that I can flex my section chief credentials to get clearance,” she adds casually which made you blanch.

You look at her in a panic and had to stop from grabbing her shoulders to shake the truth from her. “What does that mean exactly?”

Prentiss straightens her posture and was about to intercept your hands but settles back onto the bed, seeing the unbridled panic in your eyes. “Hey,” she says your name soothingly, “just on the list to know where you live. Nothing more. I wouldn’t go behind your back like that. Neither would Korogoth.”

Your shaky breathing slowly calms, and your hands find a place in your lap and behind where Prentiss was sitting. “Oh, okay. Yeah.”

She looks at you curiously. “Is this about what happened with the AWOL situation?”

You laugh humorlessly. “If only.”

That made her brows raise with some concern. “There’s more?”

You shake your head. “No, nothing like that.” Then wince. “Not exactly. It’s… fuck …” You bring your hands up to rub your face and grumble. “Uhrr!”

“Okay, I get it,” Prentiss backs off knowing that the burgeoning trust that is going on between you was about to snap. “Don’t need to answer, but please let me tell you that Korogoth also confirmed what you told me a few weeks ago.”

You managed to peek through your fingers with one eye.

“He confirmed everything you said without my asking for it. And that your stipend isn’t from the AWOL mess. That you earned it as a long standing, and decorated, agent of the CIA.” she assures. “Since he cleared me enough to get your address, he wanted to make sure I knew how incredible of an agent you are despite the whole ….” She brings her hands up and gestures wildly, “… mystery surrounding you. But to be fair? I’m well aware of it now too.”

You bring your hands down. “He said that, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“And you really think that of me?”

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Huh. Okay.” You nod, making a decision.

“Okay?” she slowly rests her arms on her legs, waiting for clarification.

“Yeah,” you give her a timid smile. “I’ll go.”

Emily’s grin spreads brightly across her face as she reaches for your arm. “Great. I’ll let the girls know.”

“No, don’t,” you say, stopping her from reaching for her phone. The accidental brush of your fingers sends a rush of heat through you, and you drop your hand.

“I’m confused. Why not?” she asks, curling her hand away hiding the similar effect it had on her.

You grin. “Let’s surprise them.”

@unkonw00 @ara-a-bird @rayisaknight @sevyscoven @maybe-a-humanbean @unoreverselu @fluffypalmtree

Let me know if you would like to be tagged as well. Thank you for reading!

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #criminal minds evolution #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader #emily x reader #prometheus #emily x you #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction

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carisc4pshaw · 7 hours ago

Text

Showers of Love

In which Spencer Reid comes home from work late after being away for 5 days and finds himself joining his girlfriend (female OC) in the shower the next morning.

word count: 1.7k

tags: shower sex, morning sex, smut, little fluff, smut&fluff, domestic fluff, love, oral sex, vaginal sex, PinV sex, home, showers, original character, original female character, bisexual female character, spencer reid/ fem!reader, bisexual spencer reid, spencer reid fluff, spencer reid smut, sub spencer reid, dom spencer reid, choking, rough sex, late night, working late, criminal minds

warning: little nipple play, oral sex (fem receiving), choking, unprotected PinV sex (I think that’s it)

notes: Also posted on Ao3 I hope you enjoy this however, it may not be the best as I haven’t written smut involving men for a couple of years.

—————————————————❤️‍🔥——————————————————

Spencer had gotten home from work after a case had run on longer than any of them would have liked, Sofia was pretty sure she heard him climbing into bed at 3:30 am so she took that as a chance to have a lay-in with him until 11 am the next morning before deciding it really was time to get up.

The blonde went into the bathroom twisting the shower on warm and stripping out of her clothes. She got into the shower and closed the door meaning she didn’t hear the knock coming from the door to the bathroom just a minute later.

The couple had been together a long time but Spencer wanted to be respectful by knocking first however he was sure on this occasion she wouldn’t mind the surprise I mean he had been away for almost 5 days after all.

He opened the door and took in her body, her head was tilted back under the shower head as the water ran down her slightly tanned skin. Spencer knew he wasn’t going to be able to enter the shower undetected so he knocked on the glass, her head quickly turned to him a shocked expression on her face before realising it was him.

“Are you okay?” Sofia asked him.

“Can I join? You look beautiful,” he said, his eyes trailing her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and breasts ending at the end of her ribs.

“Hm yes you can join,” She giggled pushing the glass door open for him.

He got rid of his clothes and entered the shower standing behind her wrapping his arms around her midsection and smelling the clean skin on her shoulder, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” She said twisting her head round to meet his lips in a very awkward angled kiss.

Spencer began leaving kisses at the side of her neck, sucking lightly leaving what would become faint marks on her skin.

“Mmm baby I’m trying to shower,” Sofia spoke pushing further back against him feeling his cock hardening against her ass.

“Sorry about that… but it has been well 5 days,” He rubbed the back of his neck swallowing nervously.

“It’s fine I like knowing I still turn you on.”

“You’ll always turn me on darling,” Spencer’s hands travelled to her breasts grabbing both of them in his hands, his thumbs rubbing her nipples.

“Oh baby, that feels so nice,” Sofia said under her breath.

“Did you miss having me here?” He asked running his hands from her breasts and down the sides of her waist.

“Mhm, you shouldn’t leave for work all the time.”

“I’ll suggest it to Hotch,” He turned her around so he was now facing her and left kisses on her chest and the top of her cleavage.

“Good plan,” Sofia reached one hand down wrapping it around his cock resulting in him moaning into her chest.

He pulled back and shook his head, “No, this is about you for now, hands off.”

She immediately obeyed him moving her hand before being pushed up against the wall of the shower.

Spencer kissed a trail down her body as he got onto his knees and began kissing her inner thighs.

Sofia reached down sliding her fingers into his damp curls her hand tightening in them when he ran his tongue up her slit.

The blonde let out a few sighs of pleasure as he gripped onto her thighs spreading them further apart.

Spencer angled his head to latch his lips onto her clit, sucking at it gently. He moved one hand from her thigh to grip onto her hip.

Sofia’s hands tightened in his hair as he ran his tongue in circles over her clit before running it down to her entrance and plunging it into her wasting no time to get it as deep as he could twisting it further inside.

The moans, sighs and the look of pleasure on Sofia’s face he was hearing and seeing had made him harder than he was before if it was even possible. He knew it took the blonde a little while to reach her first orgasm and at this point, he didn’t know if he would be able to wait that long.

Sofia’s eyes were closed and her mouth was parted open as strings of moans came out of her mouth that only got louder as he splayed his right hand over her lower stomach so his thumb could reach down to her clit rubbing it in firm fast circles. Maybe this wouldn’t take as long he thought.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” she shouted gripping his hair impossibly tight and pulling it so hard it was hurting but he would not say anything about it.

Sofia sighed heavily, one of her hands leaving his hair and slamming against the tiled wall and her legs threatening to close around his head as she climaxed, her juice spilling out onto his tongue.

Spencer removed his tongue from inside of her but kept his thumb lightly brushing against her clit while she came down from her orgasm.

He stopped his actions with his thumb when he heard her breathing slowing down and placed both his hands on her hips rubbing them comfortingly. He stayed on his knees and looked up at her, “Are you okay darling?”

The younger woman nodded her head ‘yes’ until her breath had returned to talk, “Yeah thank you, so good. God, you’re so good at that Spence.”

Spencer smiled, standing up from the floor and pressing his lips against her, it was a loving kiss made more passionate by her being able to taste herself on him.

He pulled back after a minute and ran a hand down her hair, “You’re gorgeous honey.”

“Do you want my help with this?” She reached down and took the length of his cock in her hand.

Spencer groaned at the touch, “Can you go again?”

“Yeah,” She nods, “Always.”

He kissed her lips once before roughly connecting his lips to her pulse point on her neck.

His hand moved from the side of her face to her collarbone rubbing his hand across it and down between her breasts.

“I don’t need any more teasing baby you’ve warmed me up enough,” she said pulling his head back up from her neck so their lips could join again.

“From the front or back?” Spencer asked.

“If I say back will you pull my hair?” Sofia smirked at him.

“No I don’t want to hurt you,” He pecked her lips.

Sofia rolled her eyes, “You choke me but you won’t pull my hair?”

“It’s different.”

“Fine, we will work on this, front then and choke me.”

“Okay,” Spencer waited for her to adjust her position for it to be easier for him to slip inside of her.

Spencer eased into her slowly, he was large and while they had done this many times he always wanted to be careful not to hurt her.

Adjusting to him didn’t take long due to her previous orgasm and already being used to his size.

“Move,” Sofia ordered with a moan.

Spencer complied pulling out a little and pushing back in earning a louder moan from his girlfriend.

“More please,” she breathed out wrapping her arms around his waist.

Spencer quickened his pace earning moans from him when he thrusted in and out of her.

Sofia's nails scraped down Spencer’s back while her eyes rolled in pleasure, “Oh fuck. Yes!” She said between moans.

He could feel himself getting closer to his climax as her walls tightened around his cock more with each thrust. Spencer moved his hand to her neck squeezing lightly against her pulse point.

“Keep going please,” Sofia begged

“I’m not stopping babe,” Spencer thrust at a different angle hitting a point inside her he hadn’t hit before.

That movement mixed with the choking sent her toppling over the edge for the second for the second time that evening.

He wasn’t far behind after seeing her orgasm washing over her face.

“I need to pull out baby,” he spoke rather softly, loosening the hand from around her neck.

Sofia groaned, “Why? You never usually do?”

“Are you sure you want me to?” Spencer grunts.

“Yeah,” She kissed his lips slowly running one of her hands down her chest.

With one more thrust Spencer finished inside of her, moaning into her mouth as they kissed.

He pulled away from her breathing heavily. His brown eyes met her blue ones just staring at her as he got his breath back.

“You okay honey?” Sofia giggled at his flushed cheeks and scattered breaths.

“Yes, more than okay. I’m going to pull out now.”

The blonde nodded but still let a small whiney moan out as she felt the loss of him from inside of her.

The sweet sound made Spencer’s heart beat a little faster than it already was from the physical activity they had just participated in. He took her face in his hands and smiled at her before placing a peck on her lip, “I love you,” he spoke between the kisses.

“I love you too Spence,” Sofia said stepping further under the water from the shower head.

“Can I wash your hair?” He asked moving closer to her again wrapping his arms around her from behind.

She leaned back into his touch so their bodies were pressed together, “Of course, you know I’ll never say no to that.”

Spencer took the shampoo bottle from the small shelf and squirted some into the palm of his hand. The smell of sex in the shower was quickly drowned out by the thick smell of Sofia’s lavender-scented oil that she’d mixed into her shampoo.

As he rubbed it into her hair he spent a fair amount of time massaging her scalp, “I love the smell of your shampoo.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, It makes me feel calm I miss smelling it when I’m away.”

“You’re so adorable, I’m giving you so many kisses when you’re finished washing my hair.”

“How about you do that after we put pyjamas on and get into bed to watch a movie?”

“Sounds like an excellent plan,” Sofia quickly turned around in his arms and pecked his lips despite the fact his hands were still threaded in her hair.

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#criminal minds #bi spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid edit #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid female oc #fan fiction #smut #ao3 fanfic #matthew gray gubler

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mymindisneverhere · 3 hours ago

Text

FAVORS

Part Seven

warnings: 18+, MDNI!, SMUT, sub/switch!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, bdsm bondage, handjob, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talking, ANGST, explicit language, lots of dialogue, (forgive me if I missed any)

heads up: 7k word count

Masterlist: Favors 1-6

*1 Month Later*

Terry laid on his back, jaw clenching, as he struggled to stay silent. His arms were pressed firmly against his torso, unable to move from his sides. She had wrapped him tightly in plastic wrap and pushed him onto the bed. He was struggling yet again to keep his composure while she stroked him.

His only rule for the night:

“Don’t make a sound and you get to fuck me however you want.”

Khloé wore a red lingerie set that showcased her nipples and gave an opening to her sex. Her legs were covered in matching net stockings that hooked onto her panties. After teasing him for the past hour, placing kisses on his neck and ears, rubbing her ass against his crotch and opening her legs to give him a clear view of her wetness, she decided to stop toying with his mind and toy with his dick.

She wasn’t making it easy on him whatsoever, cooing as she watched his eyes roll into his head. She stroked his dick, spitting on it and biting her lips.

“Keep those beautiful eyes on me.” She stroked his dick, biting her lip as his eyes slowly focused back onto hers.

“You’re being such a good boy.” She teased, running her tongue across his tip.

His struggle was the best part of it all, watching his head fall back when she’d let up a bit and shoot back up when she took him into her mouth. The only sounds she could hear from him was his staggered breathing. She moaned as she sucked him, popping him out of her mouth when she pulled away from him.

“I think you love being treated like this, don’t you Mr. Richmond?” It was a test to see if he would have the nerve to respond.

All he could do was nod his head as his body jumped with every stroke from her. She laughed at his response before pushing all of him into the back of her throat. She bobbed her head up and down slightly, fucking her throat as her own eyes began to roll into her head. He tasted so damn good to her.

She sat up and hissed, spitting on his tip then using it to continue stroking him, this time with two hands. “Mmmm, I can’t wait to look at you while you fuck this pussy.” She worked him over, the wet sounds of her hands rubbing against him was bringing his nut to the forefront.

He sat up as much as he could, nails digging into his skin as she pulled his orgasm out of him. His thick eyebrows knitted together as he bit down harshly into his bottom lip, holding in the moans and curses that would’ve left his mouth by now.

“Oooh good job Mr. Richmond.” She smiled, watching the cum shoot from his dick, not bothering to stop her strokes. “You can sound off now.”

“Shit, ahhh, fuck.” He let out every word that had built up in his voice box. He’d catch his breath for a split second before feeling her squeeze his tip again, causing a small exhale to leave his lips with each tug. She finally let him go and stuck her fingers in her mouth, consuming whatever residue she had left of him on her hands.

“Where do you want me?”

“Mmmm, you’re making me so proud daddy.” She stared up at him as he dug into her, each stroke stronger than the one before it.

He grunted from her tightness and the sound of her sweet voice. Pressing her knees into her shoulders, he watched as he went in and out of her. The creaminess from her opening coating his dick let him know he was hitting the right spots.

She watched his expressions, much different than they were before. They were serious, dominant, vicious. Nothing in his face expressed ‘bitch’, it was like a switch had flipped. She loved every bit of it.

Her eyes fell low as she tried her hardest to remain the actual dominant in this scenario. But the longer he stroked her, the more she could feel her dominance stripping away, almost as if they were exchanging personas. Her mouth dropped open as she began to speak to him but the bliss was too much for her to say a word. She held onto the back of her knees as she rocked back and forth from the slight force of his strokes.

He ran a thumb over her clit while he continued his motions. She threw her head back from the double sensation she was getting. Her cursing him, calling him daddy after every sentence, caused a low growl to rumble in his chest as his strokes increased in speed.

“Oh fu-“ was all she could say before she felt herself cumming. The gushy sounds of her releasing on him had awakened a different beast within him.

“Why’re you so quiet? Let that shit out.” He asked, teeth gritted, not letting up on her one bit. He drilled into her, not giving her the slightest moment to recover from her climax. He was finally getting his lick back.

She looked up at him, pissed from the fact that he had her in such a compromising position and there wasn’t much she could do about it. He had her pinned underneath him, she could barely sit up without a struggle. Eyebrows curling from the insane amount of pleasure she was feeling, she grabbed onto his forearms tightly, her fresh full set making small curves into his tattooed arms.

“Fuuuuck.” He groaned, staring down at her entrance. He didn’t change his rhythm one bit, repeatedly hitting her spot. “That pussy cummin’ again.”

She gasped as she felt another orgasm building once again. “Ughhhhh, I’m cumminnnnn!” She cried out, eyes shut as she shuddered under him. He gave her a few more strokes until he felt his own orgasm bottling up in his abdomen.

He quickly pulled out of her, releasing onto her stomach, letting a few drops hit her clit while she twitched from the aftermath of her own climax. He yanked at his dick, relieving himself for the second time within an hour, feeling the strong effects of his climax.

“Mmmm, I love that dick.” She smiled, eyes closed as she continued moaning from the ride down. “Kiss me.”

Khloé stood in the mirror, applying her skincare layer by layer. Fresh out of the shower, her and Terry were both in the bathroom getting dressed for the day. She tapped her product into her face as her eyes darted across the mirror, watching his every move.

They had spent the last month under one another almost everyday. When Terry wasn’t working he was at her house, following her orders, listening to her daily rants, holding her until she fell asleep, going wherever she wanted to go and fucking her whenever and however she wanted to be fucked. He was truly at her beck and call but he genuinely enjoyed it. Terry was loving her company, happy that he had something and someone to look forward to after a long day of lifting heavy boxes.

Khloé didn’t have a feeling of infatuation with Terry, she felt a secure sense of certainty. It was because she didn’t have to question whether he enjoyed being around her or not. On days where she didn’t give him any orders, days where he was free to do as he pleased, he’d still come over just to spend the day with her.

Terry didn’t look at her crazy or judge during the times her inner child would appear. She’d dance around her condo, singing into a hairbrush. She’d binge watch her favorite childhood cartoons, laughing at the silliest things and he’d be there. Not bothered by her presence, unmoved when she had her random mood swings. He’d just be there, letting her be all of who she is, allowing her to showcase the parts of her that would be rejected by the ones she loved most.

The more time they spent together, the more Khloé was growing attached to him. She was in love with him. She’d randomly throw out questions about marriage and children, not wanting to make it obvious that she may have wanted it all with him but simply to check where his mind was. His response was always “You never know what the future holds.”

Khloé took that as a sign that he’d be open to it. The more she pictured a future with them together, the more the fantasy was becoming more tangible for her. She was so caught up in the bliss of it all, she just hoped that-

“Summer still hasn’t called me back yet, it’s been two weeks.” Terry frowned down at his phone, staring at his call log.

“Maybe she met someone,” Khloé started, trying to take his mind off of Summer. “She’s caught up in his company, just like you’re caught up in mine.” She smiled at him through the mirror.

Terry looked up at her, meeting her gaze in the reflection, his mind filled with all sorts of thoughts but he brushed them away. Assuming the worst didn’t do him any good. Accepting that Summer probably did find someone put his mind at ease, only temporarily though. Khloé could see the gears turning in his mind so she continued speaking, keeping him present in the moment with her.

“Let’s go out today.” She quickly changed the subject, looking at him again through the reflection in the bathroom mirror. He had a towel wrapped around his waist as he brushed his hair.

“Where to?”

“The park or the lake.” She started. “I wanna have a picnic date, get some snacks and drinks and enjoy the weather.” She walked over to him and hugged him from behind. The smell of his body wash was intoxicating to her. She pressed the side of her face against his back, feeling his muscles flex as he brushed his hair. It didn’t take much for Khloé to be turned on by him, she was always ready to take him whenever she saw fit.

Terry’s movement stopped as he reached down to grab her wandering hands, already knowing where they were headed. “We won’t make it to the park if you keep harassing me.” He joked.

“Well stop flaunting your body and maybe I'll stop draining you.” She shot back, tilting her head to the side to look at him through the mirror. He shook his head and continued brushing his hair.

They finished getting dressed and headed to Lake Flora. Khloé wore a white long flowy dress, white sandals and her signature red lip. Terry dressed comfortably, wearing a simple white T-shirt, jeans and white Air forces. They hadn’t meant to coordinate on purpose however Khloé took that as a sign that further proved that her fantasy would soon become reality.

Fishermen, large families, small children and couples filled the lake area as they searched for the perfect spot to relax. After a few minutes they spotted a large tree and quickly made their way to it before anyone else could.

The two sat on a large blanket under the tall shade tree. All sorts of snacks and drinks were packed in the basket Khloé brought along, providing them with plenty to eat. Finger sandwiches, fruits, crackers, chips, water and wine covered the blanket as they settled in.

“Can I ask you something Mr. Richmond?” Khloé asked, popping a small grape into her mouth.

“Of course.”

“Why don’t you ever talk about yourself?”

Terry shrugged, looking around before he answered her. “I like listening to you speak.”

“But I wanna hear about you.”

Terry sat forward, reaching for a small sandwich. “What do you wanna know?”

“What’s your family like? Your parents, your siblings?” Khloé began. “What did you wanna be when you grew up? How was it being in the Marines? Anything!”

Terry chuckled at her excitement to know more about his life. He looked up at her for a moment, staring at her as the sun danced against her gorgeous skin. He wasn’t one to open up about his life. Too many disappointments made it harder for him to want to set himself up to be let down again.

“Please?” Khloé wined playfully, blinking her eyelashes to appear innocent.

Terry shook his head at her before taking a deep breath. “My grandmother raised me, I never met my parents.” Terry began. “I’m an only child but my cousin Mike was like a younger brother to me.”

Khloé sat waiting for him to finish until she realized he wasn’t going to. “Did you take his death pretty hard?”

Terry nodded.

“Well what about the Marines, did you make any friends there?”

“A few but not many I could trust.” Terry took a sip of water before diving deeper. “All the guys were so caught up in their own egos, trying to outdo the other. Nobody really looked out for one another so I kept to myself for the most part.

“I think that’s why I’m so close with Summer, she’s really the only “family” I have left.” Terry said, putting air quotes around the word family. “I guess she reminds me that I'm not as alone as I feel at times. I know you probably still feel a way about her but she’s honestly like a sister to me. I really couldn’t do without her.”

Those words hit Khloé like a ton of bricks. She felt the familiar feeling she had when she walked away from Summer, guilt. Only it was growing greater as he spoke about her. Terry continued to tell her about his childhood, how all he knew was loss and betrayal and it was beginning to sink in for her. That what she had done would completely rock his world if he found out. She sat quietly unsure of what to say next.

“Man the shit I saw when I went in just gave me a different perspective on life. I’m not really one for meaningless connections, I think they’re pointless. I’d rather have one or two people who really get me than to just have a bunch of people around me just so I can say I have friends.”

Khloé nodded, staring down at the food in front of her.

“You know what’s crazy?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

She looked up at him, his eyes were a beautiful hazel. The sun brought them out the longer he stared at her. “What?”

“I thought this whole deal of yours wouldn’t work out at first.”

“Why not?” Khloé laughed nervously.

“We’re very different.” Terry said bluntly. “You have this crazy ass, over the top, demanding personality. I’m more of a laid back kind of guy.”

“With a smart ass mouth.” She added. They both laughed at her statement.

“I thought you would get rid of me by now.” Terry spoke nonchalantly, reaching for a few grapes.

“Why would I do that? I enjoy spending time with you.” Khloé was genuinely confused.

“I’m a pretty boring guy, don’t you think?”

Khloé smiled at him. “Actually no, I think you’re really interesting. Oddly enough you make me consider a lot of things that I never paid much attention to in the past.” Khloé shrugged. “Different perspective I guess. Plus I add the spark to your life, so we balance each other out. That’s a good thing.”

They say in silence for a while, taking in their conversation. Terry hated to admit it but a part of him wasn’t ready to have the conversation that would finally bring all of this to an end. He wasn’t trying to break his neck to be with her officially but he damn sure didn’t want to see her with anyone else anytime soon.

Khloé’s shoulders felt heavy again, aching from the thought of what she had done. The devil was on her shoulder again anxiously telling her not to worry about it, that Summer being out of the picture was just what they needed and eventually he’d forget about her. But the angel was calmly telling her to come clean now before it was too late.

“Terry, I need to tell you something.” Her voice was trembling, afraid of what would happen after her admission.

“What’s up?” He asked, eyebrows bent from the brightness of the sun.

“I talked to-“

“Youngblood!” A very familiar voice called out from behind them. It was Earl from the warehouse. He approached the two holding a tall fishing pole and an ice chest. “What you doin’ out here?”

Terry laughed to himself before standing to greet his coworker. They slapped hands, embracing each other in the universal bro hug.

“I’m just out here doing a favor for a friend, that's all.” He joked, looking down at Khloé.

Earl's eyes followed, shock written all over his face.

“Ms. MacArthur, good to see you.” He nodded his head, greeting her. “You look beautiful as usual.”

Khloé nodded with a thin grin on her face. “Thank you Earl, nice to see you as well.”

Terry and Earl fell into a long conversation, eventually arguing about men's things; sports, cars, etc. Khloé leaned onto her right arm, moving the fruits across the plate as she silently thanked Earl for saving her from ruining a good thing.

After a long ten minutes, which flew by to Khloé, Terry had returned to the blanket completely apologetic. He sat down, with each of his legs at her sides.

“Don’t be mad at me, that wasn’t my fault.” He held up his hands in defense. “He interrupted us and I didn’t want to be ru-“

“It’s okay, I’m not mad.” She said cutting him off with a soft smile.

Terry nodded. “Now what were you about to tell me?”

Khloé stared at him for a few seconds before finally saying, “There’s a charity event coming up and we have to be there, my mother is hosting it.”

Terry nodded his head slowly, wondering why she was hesitating in the beginning to tell him about something so simple.

“Just wanted to tell you, you’re free to wear what you want but we have to be color coordinated so we look like a unit at least.”

“Yes ma’am.”

They continued their picnic date, laughing and conversing about everything under the sun. However, Khloé’s conscience kept bothering her throughout the rest of the date. But she did what she did best and blocked it out by shifting her mind to dwell on the positive things, avoiding any negative thoughts and future consequences.

Terry sat on the edge of Khloés bed, dialing Summers' number once again for the third time this week. His eyebrows furrowed as the call rang three times then went to voicemail, again.

“Hey Summer it’s T, call me back when you get this message.” Terry hung up the phone, leaving yet another message. He stared down at his phone, so caught up in his own thoughts he didn’t hear Khloés question.

“Which one should I wear to the charity event?” Khloé held up two dresses, one on each side of her.

“Something’s not right with her.” He mumbled to himself.

Khloé dropped her hands to her sides, trying to fight the urge to become frustrated. “Maybe she’s busy, I mean she has her own life. She’ll get to you eventually. Now which one should I wear, the black dress or the white?”

Terry shook his head trying to make sense of her sudden silence. “She would’ve at least sent a text or something by now.”

“Can you stop worrying about her?” Khloé yelled a bit louder than she intended. “She’s a grown ass woman, she’s okay.” She said, trying to calm her voice.

Terry’s eyes shot up and he stared at her for a while. Her jealousy was getting the best of her and it was definitely a turn off for him but he brushed it off, not worrying about her attitude. He had every right to worry about his friend whether she had a problem with it or not.

“Now answer me which one, black or white?”

Terry paused for a moment and let out a deep breath. “White. It’s more welcoming.”

“You’re right.” Khloé said, pressing the dress against her body as she stared into the mirror. “Well we only have an hour to get there so let’s get dressed and stop moping about Summer please, she is alright.”

Terry stood to his feet not bothering to respond and left the room, no longer interested in talking to Khloé about Summer anymore.

They arrived at the large building, pulling into the parking lot that sat beside it. There was no valet for this event, considering it was strictly for charity. That didn’t stop Terry from falling into his usual routine though, opening her door no matter where they went.

Holding hands, they crossed the large parking lot and Khloé felt a bit of remorse wash over her. The way she spoke to Terry earlier wasn’t sitting right with her. Blowing off the topic of Summer had clearly rubbed him the wrong way but he had yet to say anything about it. He really didn’t have to, Khloé could sense his energy as he drove, eyes never leaving the road, jaw clenching every now and then.

Khloé stopped walking which caused Terry to come to a halt as well. “Look I’m sorry about earlier.” She turned to him, looking up at him as he stared down at her. “I know you’re worried about Summer but I’m sure she has a good reason as to why she hasn’t spoken to you yet. She has a daughter to raise, being a single mom is tough enough.” Khloé ran a soft hand down his cheek. “Maybe now since she’s caught up in her own life, you can focus on yours, the one with me in it.”

Her hand trailed down his arm, lacing her fingers into his. Terry stared down at her, noticing another attempt to appear innocent as she blinked her eyelashes up at him. He turned his head to the side trying to hide his smile.

“You’re right, I guess I can enjoy my time as your fake boyfriend until you don’t want me anymore.” He joked.

“I’ll always want you Mr. Richmond.” Khloé responded, pursing her lips at him waiting for a kiss.

He leaned down and placed a kiss on her lips, both passionate and intimate. They pressed their foreheads together, savoring the moment.

Khloé placed another kiss on his lips and pulled on his arm. “Now let’s enjoy the event.”

With that they continued walking, finally entering into the large building decorated in pink and yellow balloons. Khloé waved as she greeted guests, family, friends and business associates who attended the event. The smell of fresh pastries filled the room as they walked deeper into the building.

“Terrance, I’m enjoying seeing you so often.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled, giving him a tight squeeze.

“It’s good seeing you ma’am, you look beautiful.” Terry offered a small smile.

“Do you mind if I borrow my daughter for a second, we have a few things we need to discuss?”

“Not at all.” Terry said, turning to Khloé. “I’ll be over at the food table.”

“Okay, don’t get too full.” Khloé said, giving him a knowing look, one he knew too well. He smirked at her before turning and walking away.

Khloé and her mother locked arms and walked down a long hall away from the guests. Mrs. MacArthur stopped to turn and face her daughter, their gazes level with each other as they were the same height.

“So,” She began, “Did you handle the “friend” problem?”

Khloé smiled, almost revealing all of her teeth. “I did.”

Without warning, Mrs. MacArthur took her into a warm embrace, rocking her from side to side. “I’m so proud of you sweetheart, demanding your respect is the only way to get what you want.”

Khloé smiled at her mom with an adorned look on her face. It had been a while since she heard those words from her mother. She took in this moment with her mother, savoring it as it didn’t happen very often.

“So what did you say to her?” Mrs. MacArthur asked, folding her arms and leaning her weight to one leg.

Khloé spilled every detail of the conversation she had with Summer. Bragging about how Summer seemed to be very timid, almost afraid of her. Khloé was truly dragging it but the way her mothers face lit up as she told the story was worth the tale.

“I cannot believe you.” A familiar voice spoke behind Khloé.

It was Kandace, face full of disappointment and confusion. “Khloé, did you think about what might happen if he finds out about this?”

“Oh Kandace, you’re insufferable.” Mrs. MacArthur rolled her eyes.

“She hasn’t spoken to him in a whole month, clearly she got the message.” Khloé shrugged, turning her attention to her older sister.

“When he runs into her, goes to her house, pops up at her job looking for her, then what happens?”

“Why would he go searching for her when he’s got Khloé by his side?” Mrs. MacArthur scoffed. “He’s not a dumb man. Besides, he should be lucky Khloé even wants to breathe his air.”

Kandace sat quietly staring at Khloé, the silence was loud. Loud enough to let her know how disappointed she was in her sister.

“It’s all good Kandace, honestly.” Khloé chuckled.

“Okay, we’ll see.” Kandace said, making her way back down the hall. She was so irritated with her sister she turned the corner quickly, jumping back when she bumped right into a body.

“Nia?” Kandace frowned, looking her up and down. “Why are you standing right here?”

“I was looking for the bathroom.” Nia answered quickly.

Kandace squinted her eyes before pointing her finger behind Nia to the sign that hung from the ceiling labeled “Restrooms”.

“Girl I’m not paying attention, my bad.” Nia let out a forced laugh, walking away from Kandace and to the restroom.

Terry washed his hands, looking up at the mirror to take a good look at himself. He shook the excess water from his hands and grabbed a few paper towels, grabbing the door handle before tossing them into the trash. He looked down at his pants to be sure his zipper wasn’t down when he heard a voice he wasn’t too fond of hearing.

“Mr. Terrance Richmond?” Nia called out, causing Terry to turn in her direction.

“I’m not interested in talking to you.” Terry said, turning back around.

Nia took a few quick steps to catch up with him. “Actually I needed to talk to you.”

“I can’t do that.” Terry kept walking, not bothering to fully acknowledge her presence, keeping his eyes forward.

“I know why you haven’t heard from Summer.” Nia spat, stopping him dead in his tracks.

He stood still for a few seconds, contemplating on whether he should even entertain Nia’s messiness or keep walking.

“You should ask Khloé about it, I think she knows why you can’t get a hold of your friend.” She said, folding her arms over her chest. “Have you visited her lately?”

“How do you even know about Summer?” He asked, finally turning around to face her.

“I sort of overheard Khloé speaking with Kandace about her.” Nia admitted. “Didn’t want you to be worrying about Summer when Khloé knows exactly what’s going on with her.”

Terry’s nostrils flared a bit, fixing his gaze to the ground. He wasn’t going to believe Nia simply because Khloé had warned him about her. However, it wasn’t normal for Summer to completely ghost him. With the way Khloé had sort of snapped at him earlier from mentioning Summers name, he had a feeling Nia was telling the truth unfortunately.

Terry decided to do the one thing he tries to avoid, pop up on his good friend even if she didn’t plan for a visit from him. He eyed Nia up and down, not hiding his dislike for her. He took a deep breath before turning on his heels to walk toward the front entrance, leaving Nia alone in the hallway, a smile of satisfaction on her face. Terry pushed past the small crowds of people and walked out of the tall double doors, making his way to the parking lot.

Khloé noticed the sudden change in his demeanor and quickly rushed through the crowd, trying to catch up to him. She pushed through doors, almost running to catch him. “Terry?” She called out behind him, heels loudly clicking the concrete.

He continued walking, ignoring her voice.

“Where are you going? The event isn’t over yet.” She said, speeding up her walk finally reaching him. She grabbed his arm and he pulled it away. “Terry!”

“It’s an emergency.” He continued to walk toward the parking lot, pulling the keys to the rental car from his pocket.

“What emergency could be happening right now that you have to leave me?”

“It’s Summer.” He responded harshly, finally turning to meet her gaze. “I’m going to check up on her.”

Khloé’s heart sank into her stomach but she tried her hardest to play it cool. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” She questioned, wanting to be sure what she said to Summer hadn’t made it to Terry.

“I’m just stopping by her house to see if she’s okay, is that a problem for you?” He asked, eyeing her carefully to see if any bit of anger or irritation would wash over her face.

“No it’s fine, I’ll have my sister take me home.” Khloé replied, trying to seem confident, not wanting to show any sign of worry in her tone. But deep down she was trembling on the inside.

“I’ll see you later.” He said, keeping his eyes on her as he lowered into the driver's seat. He cranked the car and pulled out of the parking space, heading to Summer’s home.

“Shit Khloé.” She cursed herself, stomping her foot as she placed her hands on top of her head.

“I told you I’m not sure what happened, he didn’t say much.” Khloé spoke into the phone. She hadn’t even made it into her condo yet before she was calling her sister right back after dropping her off, still trying to ease her own anxiety… or guilt.

“Did he seem angry, annoyed, calm, relaxed?” Kandace asked, trying to help her sister gauge how Terry may react once he talks to Summer.

“I told you I couldn’t tell Kandace, I mean he seemed upset but then he didn’t look upset.” Khloé replied, putting her keys into the door of her condo. “I can never guess what he’s feeling unless he’s genuinely making it obvious.”

“Khloé you better get ready for whatever is coming next, cause it’s definitely coming. ” Kandace said.

“Ugh, bye Kandace.” Khloé hung up the phone and pushed the door open.

She walked into her home, kicking her heels off at the door. She had been calling and texting Terry to get an update on Summer, but he wasn’t responding. Not because she cared for her well being, she just wanted to know if he was aware of the conversation they’d had. She wanted to know if she was in any trouble.

She walked further into her home and turned on the kitchen lights, jumping when she saw him sitting on her sofa. They stared at each other for what seemed like minutes but was only a few seconds. The look on his face letting her know she had fucked up.

“Hey.” Khloé greeted him, placing her purse on the kitchen island. “Did you talk to Summer?”

Terry sat silently staring at her with a blank expression. His blood was boiling internally but his exterior remained stoic.

“Is she okay?” Khloé was dying to know how the conversation went between the two of them. She walked deeper into the living room, stepping slowly, fiddling with her fingers. Terry’s temples twitched as she inched closer to him. She knew Summer had told him everything.

He continued sitting silently, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees as his eyes pierced into hers.

“I assume you already know the answer to that question because you had a conversation with her right?” Terry’s voice was deep yet calm. “You didn’t think to tell me about it?”

“I was gonna tell you but I could never find the right moment.” She responded, with a nervous smile.

Terry paused, growing irritated with her by the second.

“So you knew this whole time why she wasn’t speaking to me? You were the reason.” He stood up from the sofa and walked toward her.

“Well y-yes but I just told her that um, you were busy a-and you needed space.” She walked backwards until her back was pressed against the island, never tearing her eyes from his.

“So you speak for me now?” He was approaching her quickly, towering over her once he finally made it in her space. “You’re that fucking insecure, you had to make up some shit to get her to stop talking to me?”

“Don’t call me that.” Khloé shot through clenched teeth.

“Cut this bullshit act.” He spoke with pure disgust lacing every word. “You’re a fucking fraud.”

“Don’t talk to me like that!”

“All this money you got, you got both of your parents, family, the ability to obtain whatever you want and you’re so easily threatened by Summer?” He was tearing into her and he didn’t plan on letting up whatsoever. “Is that why you lied to her, you see her as competition?”

Khloe shrank under him, lowering her chin to her chest. “I didn’t want you to stop seeing me after I was done paying you. You spend so much time with her, I thought you would forget about me.”

“You didn’t think to open your fucking mouth and tell

me that?” He was pissed, not caring if she was bothered with his tone or not. “Do you know what that could’ve done to her? She’s an ex-addict, anything could trigger her and send her down a rabbit hole.”

Khloé sat quietly, surprised by what she was hearing. She looked down at her feet, too embarrassed to look at him. “I didn’t know that.” Her voice trembled as she fought the urge to cry.

“It’s not your fucking business to know that!” She jumped at the sound of his voice, echoing throughout the entire condo.

Khloé stared up at him, tears puddling in her eyes. She was completely unaware of who she was speaking to. It never occurred to her that he could be so harsh with his words. He had never been angry with her before, even when she was being a total bitch to him, he never even raised his voice to her. Clearly her actions had unlocked a different version of him, a version she wanted so badly to disappear and never return again. She could feel herself becoming extremely emotional, feeling so small in this moment in every way possible.

He stepped back, turning his back to her as he took a deep breath. Rubbing his palms against the back of his head to calm himself down, the last thing he needed was to let his anger get the complete best of him.

“Did you really think she wouldn’t tell me?” He asked, finally facing her again, his voice returning to a calm state only for a split second.

She remained silent.

“Answer me!”

“I don’t know.” Khloé responded quickly. “Terry I’m sor-“

“So you thought getting rid of the one person I had left would actually make me wanna be with you?” He was truly repulsed by her.

“I wasn’t trying to get rid of her permanently, just until I…” Khloé looked around the room to find the words. The truth was she didn’t think any of this through. She just wanted him all to herself, no matter what it would take. But the desire to get a pat on the back from her mother, the feeling of no longer wanting to hear the insults she’d been hearing for years from her parents, clouded her judgment.

Terry raised a brow, waiting for her to finish. “Until you what? Told your parents the truth? That you pay me to be here cause you’re that desperate for a man.”

“Stop!” Her voice trembled, she bit her lip to prevent it from trembling also as a tear dropped from her eyes.

Terry shook his head and let out a chuckle, but he was clearly unamused. “You know the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Khloés heart dropped, realizing exactly what he was saying without being frank.

“For a second I thought because you had your sister, you’d have some damn sense, but that was my fault for assuming.” He lifted his shirt and pulled large stacks of cash from his waistband, slamming them onto the counter. Khloé watched as he placed each one on top of the other. “$8500. That’s all the money you’ve sent me so far.” Terry spat. “You can keep the rest, we’re done.”

Khloé's eyes widened at the sound of those last two words. “No wait!” She choked on her cries as she tried so hard to hold herself together. Terry walked away from her making his way to the front door. “Don’t leave please, I can fix it.”

Terry continued toward the door.

“Terry!” She cried out, pulling on his shirt to get him to stop walking.

He kept going, snatching her hand away from him, not bothering to turn around.

“Just give me a chance, please!” She yelled, tears were now streaming down her face. “I’m sorry!”

Terry opened the door and walked out of her home. Khloé was right behind him, chasing him to the elevators.

“I’ll talk to her, I’ll do whatever you want me to!” Her pleas were falling on deaf ears. Terry aggressively pressed the button to call the elevator and stared at the doors, not even turning his head to look at her.

“Please? Can we just talk about it?” Khloe looked so pitiful, begging for him to say something to her. But he wouldn’t even look her way. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

The bell chimed and the doors to the elevator opened, he stepped inside still moving forward as she grabbed his arm with both hands. He shot a cold look at her. “Don’t touch me.” Snatching his arm out of her grasp, making her yank forward a bit. She didn’t want to test him any more than she already had. She stood in place, still pleading with him but he remained silent. Those were the last words he said to her before closing the doors and disappearing behind them.

Khloé stared at the elevator, almost expecting them to reopen so he’d walk back through them. She covered her face with her hands, muffling her sobs. The situation seemed to be right in the palm of her hands but slipped through her fingers and it was all her doing.

She turned and held onto the wall as she tried to catch her breath. The amount of sobbing she was doing was making it hard for her to take in a single breath without feeling like her lungs were shrinking. She ran back into her condo and went for her purse. Grabbing her phone, she dialed the only person who would tolerate her in this state.

“Khloé?” Kandace opened the door to the large condo, calling out for her sister. She walked deeper into the space until she saw her on the floor, face wet with tears. Khloé was wheezing, grabbing her stomach as she tried to steady her breathing.

“I f-fucked up s-so bad.” Khloé struggled, still working on catching her breath.

“Oh my God, you’re hyperventilating Khloé.” Kandace ran over to the kitchen and grabbed her a bottle of water. She kneeled down to her and lifted the bottle to her lips. “You need to calm down, just breathe. It’s gonna be okay.”

Khloé sipped the water slowly, still hiccuping from her heavy sobs. She wiped her face and looked up at her sister. “No it’s not.”

“Summer told him everything.” Kandace stated, already knowing how this would play out. She placed her hand on Khloés knee and sat on the floor in front of her.

Khloé nodded. “He was so angry.” She barely whispered.

Kandace sat silently, not wanting to offer her an “I told you so”. Pouring salt into the wound wasn’t going to calm her down anytime soon. Now wasn’t the time to tell her about herself, Terry had already done that.

“The things h-he said to me, he was so m-mean.” She shook her head frantically. “He put the m-money on the counter and h-he left.” Khloé explained through hiccups. “I couldn’t even explain my-myself, he didn’t want to h-hear anything I had to s-say.”

“Khloé…” Kandace’s heart broke for her sister but she knew that this was a lesson she would eventually have to learn. She knew that being the spoiled mean girl who did whatever she wanted and treated people however she chose just to have her way would eventually backfire.

“I know I fucked up, I know.” Khloé cried, staring up at the ceiling. “And I can’t even fix this.”

“I think you should just give him some time.” Kandace offered.

Khloé looked at her big sister, eyes red and beginning to swell. She scoffed at the thought of her having the possibility of redeeming herself.

“He’s done with me Kandace, I saw it on his face. The look he gave me when he walked into the elevator.” She kept shaking her head, her breathing finally calming back down to normal. “He had finally opened up to me about everything and I knew I should’ve said something then but it was going so well I didn’t wanna mess it up.”

“But now it’s blown up in your face.” Kandace said.

Khloe placed her head in her hands, knees pressed against her chest.

“I think you may just have to sit with the consequences of your actions babe. That fantasy you were trying to bring to life is all over.” Kandace finished.

Khloés sobs started up again as she replayed the conversation with Terry over and over again in her mind. Her sister held onto her, pulling her into her arms while she cried. This was going to be a long night for the both of them.

to be continued…

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