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Summary:

“I thought you were gonna show me- the kinky stuff? The, um.”

And because God was a real bastard, Gideon had to watch as Harrow’s smirk widened.

“Oh, is that all you wanted, Griddle? I still intend to show you how I dominate women,” she breathed, leaning even closer- her chin tilted up as she held Gideon’s gaze. “I am just asking if I can touch you, first.”

---

Gideon receives an object lesson in how to domme.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

She loves control,

she wants it her way.

And all it takes

Is just one taste-

You wanna give it up.

 

Gideon was feeling good.

The bar was all fairy-lights and beer signs, pool tables and warm, polished wood. It wasn’t too packed, and somebody was playing early-aughts bangers on the jukebox, and she was just a little buzzed- but all of that was just icing on the cake. Happy little accidents, or whatever.

No, what really got her going, what was actually making her night- that was the snippy, irritated, grumpy little gremlin sitting next to her at the bar. Harrow, in black jeans and a black hoodie, with her black eyeliner and her black fingernails- and the black shoes with glow-in-the-dark skeletons on them that she owned courtesy of Gideon- could have been pulled bodily out of a 2004 Hot Topic flyer. 

It was Gideon’s favorite look.

“All I’m saying,” Gideon pressed, leaning into Harrow’s personal bubble with a wink- trying mightily to suppress her grin when Harrow glowered at her, “is that I’d basically be the perfect domme. Like, I order around grown men all fuckin’ day! I was built for this!”

She was so built for this she was getting promoted- from Corporal to Sergeant, as a matter of fact, and that’s why they were at this bar for her wetdown- but Harrow seemed dead-set on spoiling Gideon’s fun. 

Unfortunately, a solid seventy-percent of Gideon’s fun revolved around annoying Harrow, so she was shit outta luck.

“Not that I would expect you to know anything besides how to pick heavy things up and put them down again, but being a domme has very little to do with… Whatever the hell it is you actually do for a living.”

“I teach the next generation of warfighters how to close with and destroy the enemy.”

“Of course you do, Griddle.”

Gideon snorted, leaning back as one of the boys brought her a shot. She knocked it back with him before returning her gaze to Harrow, who sipped her gin and tonic with a bored expression. 

“It can’t be a whole lot more than that,” she said, leaning forward on her stool, propping her elbows on the bar. The surface was sticky beneath her bare skin, and she briefly regretted wearing a button down with short sleeves. “You order people around, and tie’em up, and there’s like, riding crops and leather and-”

“Griddle.”

Harrow pinched the bridge of her nose, and Gideon bit her lip to swallow her laugh. “I am so built for that. And if anybody argued with me, I could just pick’em up and, like, toss’em through a window or something.” She bumped Harrow’s shoulder- Harrow hissed like a cat in response- and Gideon grinned with her teeth as she flexed her bicep. “All the lifting heavy things and putting them down comes in handy once in a while.”

“I’m sure it does, Griddle, but that is not how dommes gain compliance from their submissives.”

Gideon leaned back then, cocking her head to the side. She felt a little warm- likely a result of the alcohol- but something in Harrow’s voice snagged her attention.

“Yeah? What would you know about it?”

Harrow’s glance was quick, sliding from the wall behind the bar to Gideon. Though she didn’t turn her face, her expression was sly; a smirk curled the corners of Harrow’s lips.

The warmth in the bar suddenly felt overpowering.

Then Harrow sat up straight, her face smooth like the smirk had never been; from within the pocket of her jeans, she pulled out a crisply folded fifty, waved the bartender down, and handed the bill over, saying, “For my drink- and hers.” 

Gideon glanced at her current beer- nearly full- and back to the bartender, who nodded once and took the money. Harrow hopped from her stool- hopped down, because the bar was hilariously tall and she was probably too short to ride most of the rollercoasters at Disneyworld- and turned to peer intently up at Gideon. 

“If you want to know, you’re welcome to come find out, Griddle.”

Then she turned and, chin held high, stalked quickly from the dim warmth of the bar.

Gideon, glancing between the retreating form of her childhood-enemy-turned-best-friend and the beer that had never broken her heart, made a snap decision. 

Grabbing her coat, she followed.

-

It wasn’t hard to catch up with Harrow; despite her quick pace, she had short little legs- like a corgi, Gideon thought with a snort- so it wasn’t like she could cover much distance. 

As she came abreast of Harrow, the smaller woman glanced up. Gideon thought she saw that smirk again, the one that made her brain feel fuzzy and her cunt feel hot, but it was gone as soon as she’d glimpsed it.

Wouldn't have mattered anyway; Harrow was her best friend. 

Nothing more.

“I’m surprised you didn’t stay for your party, Griddle.”

“Eh,” she shrugged, “Difference between Corporal and Sergeant is like two-hundred bucks, and I already put my money on the bar. It’s not like they needed me to stick around to buy the drinks.”

Harrow hummed, turning down an alley. Gideon knew this was a shortcut to her apartment, but the thought of Harrow cutting through the dark, dank space by herself made her inexplicably uncomfortable. She pushed past the emotion with a laugh.

“Besides, how am I supposed to pass up finding out how a woman with approximately six muscles is capable of dominating someone? You must lean heavy into the whips and chains, huh?”

Harrow, who had stepped lightly in front of Gideon as they skirted an enormous, mossy puddle, glanced over her shoulder. “As I said, Griddle, that isn’t necessarily what dominating is about.”

“Well there ain’t no way you’re physically forcing someone to do anything, that’s for sure.”

Another hum, and Gideon couldn’t see Harrow’s face but she sounded deeply amused. 

“Sure, Griddle.”

They came out of the alley without incident, and Harrow looked both ways before crossing the next street as she pulled out a jingling carabiner. A few cars passed them as Harrow fitted her keys into the building’s door, but they were otherwise alone, nothing but streetlights and the distant sound of traffic for company. Once inside, they made their way up the stairs to the second floor, and as Harrow opened the door to her apartment, Gideon stepped through, quickly peering around.

She had just been bullshitting about the whips and chains, of course- sort of. But it occurred to her that she actually had no idea if Harrow had denied using them, because she hadn’t given a real answer. Gideon did a quick scan of the living room to her right, and the kitchen beyond the high counter to her left as Harrow closed and locked the door behind her, just in case. 

“Shoes off, Griddle. This isn’t a barn.”

Gideon started at Harrow’s voice, but the droll inflection was as standard and unchanged as ever; Gideon laughed quietly at herself. Jumpy for no reason.

She turned, toeing off her shoes, and shrugged her jacket down her arms. Harrow stepped around her, hanging her keys on a peg on the wall, and as Gideon turned back, hands at her waist, still in the sleeves of her jacket, she found Harrow directly in front of her, looking up from beneath thick, black eyelashes.

Gideon stumbled back against the door in surprise, her heart rate spiking, and- there was that smirk again, but this time, it remained in place, predatory, with a hint of teeth.

“Griddle,” Harrow murmured, stepping closer, close enough that Gideon could feel the heat rolling off her body, “may I touch you?”

Her eyes were so, so dark- Gideon had a brief moment of vertigo, felt like she was falling into them, into the heat within them. She swallowed thickly, and then said like an idiot, “I thought you were gonna show me- the kinky stuff? The, um.”

And because God was a real bastard, Gideon had to watch as Harrow’s smirk widened. 

“Oh, is that all you wanted, Griddle? I still intend to show you how I dominate women,” she breathed, leaning even closer- her chin tilted up as she held Gideon’s gaze. “I am just asking if I can touch you, first.”

There was nothing to see here, nothing weird going on- friends touched friends all the time, right? The heat and the throbbing in her cunt was incredibly fucking distracting, but Gideon managed to get ahold of herself enough to stop mouth breathing and nod dumbly. Then, in an effort to regain some shred of dignity, she said, “If you try to handcuff me, I’m gonna fold you like a pretzel, Harrow.”

At this, Harrow actually laughed- which pleased Gideon enormously, because Harrow swore up and down that Gideon wasn’t funny- but her laughter died away as she brought a hand up to trace along Gideon’s jaw. 

“I won’t try to handcuff you, Griddle. Frankly, I wouldn’t even need to handcuff you, were that a state I saw fit to have you in.”

Something about the way she said that- have you in- made heat lick up from Gideon’s core, tensing the muscles in her stomach. She cleared her throat, shifting to let her jacket fall to the floor beneath her.

“And what’s that s’posed to mean, my midnight madam?” Alliteration was good. Meant she still had brain power. Gideon was not ready to admit she was horny for her best friend, not out loud, but it seemed that Harrow might have caught on anyway, if the way she studied Gideon’s reaction to her wandering touch was any indication.

“It means,” Harrow began, dragging her fingers down Gideon’s front, pausing when Gideon sucked in a breath, “that if I wanted you restrained, you simply would be. I have no need for cuffs.”

“Wait,” Gideon frowned, bringing her hands to rest on Harrow’s hips, “if you don’t use cuffs, how do you-”

“Why are you touching me?”

Gideon startled, jerking her hands back, but Harrow didn’t seem upset- merely curious. It was habit that moved Gideon’s limbs, so used to being the one to take control of her sexual encounters that she hadn’t even thought that Harrow might want something different. 

And there was more food for thought; this was definitely turning sexual. With her best friend. 

Fuck.

“Sorry- sorry. I, uh, just-”

“Consent is important, Griddle,” Harrow admonished, though gently. “I can’t show you how these things work if you don’t first understand that.”

Gideon raised her hands in supplication; she had a sinking feeling in her belly, afraid she’d really and truly fucked this up. 

“You’re right- that was my bad. I should have asked,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Can I make it up to you? I promise I’ll ask permission next time.”

Harrow cocked her head. “So sure there will be a next time, Griddle?”

Gideon did not let exasperation turn her voice into a whine; she swallowed that down wholesale, and when she was sure her voice was fucking normal, she said, “If you want there to be. I, um. Would also want there to be. A next time.”

The smirk had made a reappearance, but at Gideon’s words, Harrow’s expression softened. This had the extremely unfortunate effect of making Gideon’s mushy insides do all kinds of ill-advised acrobatics, but Harrow didn’t seem to notice. Instead, all she said was, “Perhaps,” and she took Gideon’s other hand- the one not resting on top of her head- and placed it up with the first.

“Interlace your fingers behind your head, please.”

Gideon raised a suspicious eyebrow, but Harrow shrugged, clasping her hands behind her back, still leaned in close. “You’ve already stepped out of bounds once, Griddle; I need to know that you won’t do so again.”

Gideon chewed her lip for a moment, searching Harrow’s expression for any sign of deception, but she was studiously innocent. Finally- and with a grumble- Gideon did as she asked.

“Better?”

“Very good,” Harrow murmured, amusement dancing in her eyes. Gideon clenched on nothing, and tried her best to hide that fact. She cleared her throat, ignoring the heat flushing the skin of her chest and her face, and grumbled out, “So, you gonna spill the beans now or what?”

“The beans, Griddle,” Harrow said, returning her fingers to their tracing, “are simple. The people who submit to me want to submit.”

Gideon waited for more, but Harrow seemed distracted, her touch feathering over the buttons of Gideon’s shirt before she paused. 

“May I?” Gideon had a brief image of her own self waving goodbye to a departing train, one that was labeled “GOOD FUCKING SENSE” in bright red paint, but if she were being honest with herself, the time had long since passed for her to have made any other choice.

At Gideon’s nod, Harrow manipulated the buttons deftly, with one hand; the other she traced back and forth along Gideon’s waistline. Gideon, for her part, was trying her best to focus on Harrow’s words.

“If you only get girls who’re already gagging for it, where does the domination come in?”

The last of the buttons came free, and Harrow took a moment to slip both hands beneath the fabric, running her nails up Gideon’s ribs. Gideon grit her teeth against the groan this drew from the base of her throat; Harrow pressed her lips into a thin line in response. 

“Most women only want someone to take charge and prioritize their pleasure,” she began, “And others want to relinquish control in a safe and consensual encounter.” Then she shrugged. ”Some women are just brats,” she went on, studying Gideon’s face as her fingers skimmed across her abdomen, “and they insist on pushing the boundaries of good behavior. In those instances, a firmer hand is needed.”

Gideon laughed- or she tried to, but when she opened her mouth, Harrow dragged her nails across the skin of her ribs with just a bit more force. Her voice was breathless when she asked, “A firmer hand? That a euphemism for some freaky dominatrix stuff or something?”

Her own hands were starting to tingle, the first sign of numbness creeping into her fingers. She leaned her head forward, unlacing them to shake them out, just for a moment- 

And Harrow had stepped away, yet again clasping her hands behind her back.

“Hey- wait-”

“Whether we continue what we’re doing is entirely up to you, Griddle.”

Gideon straightened up, still shaking her hands out, leaning back against the door as she raised an eyebrow at the smaller woman. 

“But-”

“All you need to do is keep your fingers interlaced behind your head,” Harrow said, her tone bored, but her expression very, very intent. “That is the only way I will touch you.”

Gideon scowled at her, but Harrow remained still, not so much as shifting her weight. The throbbing in Gideon’s core- and the absolute soaking mess of her cunt- crowded out logical thought handily, but she was determined to maintain some kind of face despite that.

“So I’m in control.”

Harrow nodded. 

“You are.”

“This ain't some crazy Jedi mind trick?”

“Of course not.”

Gideon studied her with narrowed eyes for a few moments more, just to be sure- no chains, no ropes, no cuffs, no improper use of the Force - but Harrow only stared at her, unblinking. Finally, Gideon returned her hands to her head.

“I’m still waiting for you to show me-”

“Yes, Griddle,” Harrow cut in, stepping forward, her hands flashing out to touch Gideon again, “I’ll show you how to domme in a moment. Now, may I remove your trousers?”

The electricity sparking under Gideon’s skin and the hot pulsing in her cunt made this an extremely compelling question, but Gideon was still deeply suspicious about the entire situation; it had occurred to her that Harrow had yet to demonstrate at all how she managed to dominate people bigger than her. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Harrow had brought her home under false pretenses.

Tucking her chin, Gideon shuffled her hands to the top of her head, peering down into Harrow’s focused expression with narrowed eyes. 

“Well, I dunno, mistress,” she teased, and was immediately rewarded when two spots of color appeared high in Harrow’s cheeks, “Can you?”

Harrow rolled her eyes at this, digging her nails into the soft skin over Gideon’s hip in retaliation. Gideon bit her lip and concentrated very hard on her breathing to keep the whimper from escaping her throat.

“Word games are the lowest form of bratting, Griddle. Surely you can do better.”

“Bratting? I’m-” Gideon’s eyes widened, then narrowed again, “Wait a fuckin’ minute, I’m the one in charge here. You said so yourself. Aren’t brats the subs in this situation?”

As if she had let slip a secret, Harrow’s expression snapped back to innocence, the tips of her fingers stilled against Gideon’s skin where they rested above her belt. She licked her lips as she gazed at Gideon from beneath her lashes.

“That is correct. You are entirely in control, Griddle.”

Gideon narrowed her eyes before nodding decisively, blowing out a harsh breath as she flexed the fingers on top of her head. “Yeah. I am. And I came here for some answers, dammit.”

Harrow nodded, her eyes locked on Gideon’s, the tip of one finger dragging a tiny trail above Gideon’s zipper. 

“And you’ll have them, once the trousers come off.”

Gideon had a flash of embarrassment at the idea of Harrow seeing how wrecked she was already, how slick pre-cum had already soaked her boxers and trailed down her inner thighs, but the feather light touch was insistent, a blazing line of heat traveling directly to her clit.

“Okay, fine,” Gideon breathed in a rush, hands curling into fists in her hair, “but then the answers.”

Harrow hummed, and as she brought her gaze to Gideon’s belt, she murmured something under her breath. Gideon cleared her throat as the smaller woman tugged at her zipper.

“Eh? Wuzzat?”

She wasn’t drunk enough to slur her words- that was instead the product of all the saliva pooling beneath her tongue as she watched Harrow’s dexterous fingers work the buttons and buckles of her pants. It may also have been a result of Harrow pausing to brush her fingertips over the sensitive skin beneath the waistband of Gideon’s boxers, but she wasn’t one to keep score. Harrow didn’t look up as she responded.

“I said,” she began, hooking her thumbs over Gideon’s trousers and the silk shorts she wore beneath them, “that you are a good girl.”

She pulled Gideon’s clothing down in one motion, letting the fabric pool around Gideon’s ankles as she stood, tracing her fingers up the outside of Gideon’s thighs, her hips, her stomach and ribs. Harrow pressed flush to Gideon’s front, and Gideon- whose breathing had become embarrassingly uneven and whose brain was currently on vacation and who was so fucking wet she thought she might die of dehydration in the very near future- leaned as far forward as she could, trying to capture Harrow’s lips in a kiss.

“Aht- you never asked if you could kiss me. Consent, remember?”

Gideon’s head spun; Harrow had leaned away with that devious smirk, just enough that Gideon couldn’t kiss her. She was still close enough that Gideon felt her breath on her lips; it was a testament to how far gone Gideon was that she didn’t even consider how kissing her best friend should have been weird.

No, Gideon didn’t care about weirdness right now; all she could think of was how Harrow might taste.

“Okay, yes, but Harrow-”

“No buts. I already told you, I won’t show you anything if you can’t handle rule number one.”

“Fuck, okay- okay,” Gideon breathed. She tried to get a handle on herself- nevermind the rough fabric of Harrow’s fully clothed form casting sparks all over her body, and never mind the heat from Harrow’s thigh close enough to Gideon’s cunt that she could feel it. When she had swallowed the excess spit threatening to spill from her mouth, and flexed her biceps to get some blood back into her hands, she asked,

“Harrow, can I kiss you?”

There was something in Harrow’s reaction that Gideon couldn’t parse- she paused, even her breathing held back, and though Gideon was too close to see her entire face, she could see the way Harrow’s eyes darted to her lips, could feel the way Harrow’s fingers dug into her skin, if only briefly. 

After a beat that stretched into an eternity, Harrow released her breath in a rush, and Gideon realized she was more desperate than she had initially thought.

“No,” Harrow said shakily, “No. That is- Earned.”

Gideon didn’t mean for the whine to pass her lips, but it was out before she could stop it. Harrow’s fingers resumed their tracing, up Gideon’s ribs, down the valley the muscles of her abdomen formed, across the expanse of her thighs- never dipping between, despite the twitching of Gideon’s hips that she couldn’t seem to stop.

“How- how can I-?” Every time Gideon tried to get the question out, Harrow’s fingertips strayed closer and closer to the slick heat between her legs, though she never touched directly. Gideon held on to the idea that she was still fully in charge of this- whatever it was- with desperation.

“All you have to do is behave, Griddle,” Harrow said, watching her fingers move, watching the goosebumps racing up Gideon’s flesh. “You are being very, very good for me, though,” she murmured, seemingly to herself.

Gideon shuddered, sucking in a breath. Harrow glanced up then, studying her face, and pressed her lips together in amusement. 

“Look at you,” she breathed, studying Gideon, devouring with her gaze, “You’re so strong, with all of these muscles- you’re working so hard to be strong right now-” this wasn’t necessarily true, as Gideon was dripping down her legs and her nipples were tight points beneath her bra, but Harrow had dropped her gaze to the apex of Gideon’s thighs with the hungry intent of a cat watching a bird. “You’re incredible, Gideon. You’re so handsome and wet for me- do you want me to touch you? Maybe if you keep being good for me, you can cum in my mouth, hm?”

If Harrow kept talking like that, Gideon was certain she wouldn’t last long enough to cum anywhere but down her own shaking legs, though that was besides the point- she knew she was giving in, knew that she was letting Harrow distract her from the whole reason she’d come here; she also knew she was rapidly losing the ability to give a fuck what the reason was. She needed Harrow to touch her like she needed her next breath.

“Spread your legs for me, Gideon,” Harrow ordered, one hand pressed to Gideon’s hip- and Gideon complied without a word, swallowing thickly. Harrow grinned outright at this, bringing her other hand back to Gideon’s chin, gentle as she grasped Gideon’s jaw.

“Very good, Gideon,” she murmured, eyes alight. “See how easy it is to earn rewards?”

And then she kissed her.

Gideon was already dizzy and panting, her skin on fire, her pulse pounding in her cunt, but when Harrow kissed her, all the rest fell away. Gideon’s focus shrank to Harrow’s lips on hers, the gentle questing of Harrow’s tongue into her mouth, licking into her, flicking against her soft palate. Even Harrow’s teeth were gentle on Gideon’s lip, though this still pulled a groan from deep in Gideon’s chest; Harrow sucked on the lip she had bitten, running her tongue along it, before she delved back in, running her hand up Gideon’s jaw, carding her fingers through Gideon’s hair. 

Gideon might have whimpered when Harrow pulled back, her lips swollen and kiss-bruised, but Harrow only patted her cheek.

“Don’t be greedy, Griddle,” she said- though Gideon was immensely pleased to hear how breathless she was- and then she held Gideon’s jaw again as her other hand finally, finally dipped into the slick juncture of Gideon’s thighs.

“God,” Harrow whispered- Gideon thought it was Harrow, anyway, but it might have come from her own mouth, shuddering and dripping into Harrow’s palm as she was, as Harrow pressed against her sex, “Fuck.”

Gideon’s hips twitched forward entirely of their own accord, but frustratingly, Harrow moved her hand with them easily, like she expected the reaction. Gideon grit her teeth against a whine.

“First, you bamboozle me with learnin’, and now you’re trying to tease me to death,” she grumbled, shivering as Harrow traced her fingers from Gideon’s jaw to her sternum. Her other hand was infuriatingly still, a firm pressure against Gideon’s clit. “Rude as hell.”

“So impatient,” Harrow teased, voice low, “And here I was just about to tell you everything.”

Gideon couldn’t help but perk up at this, though straightening up proved to be a mistake; Harrow pressed harder against her cunt, dipping her fingers into Gideon’s soaking entrance, making her gush and drip with a groan. The heat in Harrow’s gaze matched the fire burning beneath Gideon’s skin.

“Well, Griddle? Do you want to know my secrets, or do you want to cum first?”

Harrow pressed inside of her with just the tips of two fingers- not nearly enough to accomplish anything close to satisfying, but enough that Gideon had to gasp several breaths before she could answer.

“I- You’ll, you’ll tell me for real? Promise?”

A little more pressure, and Gideon clenched down on Harrow’s fingers to the second knuckle, suddenly excruciatingly aware that she was close- so fucking close.

“Yes, Griddle. I promise to tell you everything- once you cum.”

Gideon was nodding before Harrow had even finished talking- probably as a result of her fingers, pressing as deep as Harrow could get them now, firm and still and resting on a spot inside of her that was making Gideon’s knees feel weak. 

“O-okay, yeah, okay- that’s-” Gideon hissed in a surprised breath as Harrow pushed deeper, before quickly pulling out- adding a finger, then pressing another long, firm stroke inside. “Ahhh making it kinda difficult, Harrow,” she babbled. Her head felt empty, her words rising high and urgent from somewhere in her stomach. 

“Oh? Why is that, Griddle?” Her tone was playful- not a tenor Gideon was used to hearing in Harrow’s voice at fucking all, which somehow made it even fucking hotter- and the smaller woman rested the hand not currently robbing Gideon of her ability to think around Gideon’s throat. It was a light touch, but Gideon was suddenly panting- and whining, a distant part of her realized- in a valiant attempt to fight off her orgasm. Harrow must have felt it, felt Gideon trembling and clenching around her, because she smirked as she removed her fingers entirely. 

“Oh, no, beloved. You aren’t getting off that easily.”

It took significantly longer than it should have for the words to resolve into something more than sounds for Gideon; between the searing emptiness Harrow’s fingers had left behind and the amused, mean tone of her voice, Gideon was fighting to remain upright.

Beloved.

Yeah. That didn’t help, either.

“Wha- Why’d you-”

Harrow leaned forward, whispering against Gideon’s lips. “You agreed to let me make you cum,” she said, her voice low, “but you never said when. Rule number two is simple, Gideon.”

Two fingers circled Gideon’s clit then, Harrow deftly parting her slick folds as she watched Gideon shiver. 

“Good girls ask for what they want.”

“Harrow-”

“Politely,” she interrupted. Then she squeezed with her fingertips, breathing in Gideon’s gasp like she had been drowning for it; her eyes fluttered shut as Gideon watched, and Gideon realized the fingers that were pinching her clit- pinching it gently, but maddeningly so- were shaking. Gideon’s heart felt like it was going to break through her fucking ribs.

“Harrow- please,” she whimpered, and a lightning bolt of pleasure shot from her clit straight up her spine at the- the sound Harrow made- something high and desperate in her chest, and Gideon knew instantly that she could not live her life without hearing it again- “Please, Harrow, please- I, I need-”

“Need?” Harrow’s eyes opened and Gideon was exceedingly bitter that Harrow was physically keeping her from orgasm, because the raw hunger there would have brought Gideon to her knees. “You don’t need anything, Griddle- you want to cum.”

“I mean- yeah, yeah, sure,” her mouth said, with no conscious input, “I do wanna cum, but- but I need you.”

Harrow closed her eyes, and Gideon thought she may have accidentally won this round somehow, despite being nearly naked and begging her best friend to let her cum- because when Harrow again whispered, God, and breathed a shaky breath against Gideon’s lips, Gideon heard beloved echoing in the pleading undercurrent of her voice.

“You can’t help but make things difficult, can you, Gideon?”

Gideon huffed a laugh that turned into a groan as Harrow pressed into her again, pressed in to the hilt, the heel of her palm firm against Gideon’s clit. 

“I- ah, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckf-” Gideon couldn’t seem to find anymore words than that, squeezing her fingers together on the back of her neck, curling her body in a desperate bid to make Harrow fuck her deeper. She realized she was resting her forehead in the crook of Harrow’s shoulder when she felt Harrow’s fingernails scratching gently at her scalp.

“You aren’t doing it on purpose though, are you, beloved?”

Gideon moaned then, with Harrow fucking into her slowly. Harrow crooned in her ear, even as she took Gideon apart, piece by shivering piece.

“You just can’t help how good I make you feel, can you?”

“You’re trying so hard for me, beloved- I’m so proud of you.”

“You look so handsome like this- God, you’re perfect, so perfect for me, Gideon.”

There weren’t any thoughts left in Gideon’s head, so consumed was she with Harrow’s voice and the praise she lavished on her. Gideon’s entire body shook, and her cunt damn near hurt, but still she kept her fingers locked behind her head, and still she resisted the all consuming urge to kiss Harrow. 

Something must have alerted the smaller woman, though- because she paused, three fingers buried inside of Gideon, her breath coming fast against Gideon’s ear, tickling the sweaty skin on her neck.

“Would you like to cum now, Gideon?”

Gideon whined, nodding against Harrow’s shoulder.

“Use your words, beloved.”

There was no way Harrow didn’t feel how Gideon clenched at the pet name- Gideon herself felt it, felt the very knife’s edge of her orgasm welling up from the press of Harrow’s fingers, close enough to cut. But she held on, and gasped and panted and finally, when she found her way back to the English language, she whined, “Yes, please- please, God, yes, yes, y-”

Harrow pushed roughly into Gideon, her fingers sinking in deep, deeper even than before, palming roughly at Gideon’s clit as she fisted the hand in Gideon’s hair, pulling her head back to look in her eyes.

“Very good girl,” she murmured, breathless, “Then you may cum for me, Gideon.”

And then she leaned in close, drinking in the whimpers Gideon couldn’t seem to stop, punctuated by the wet sound of her cunt being fucked open.

“Cum for me, beloved.”

The orgasm was white hot, ripping Gideon apart even as she tried to control it, control herself; suddenly, Harrow’s lips were on hers, the smaller woman drinking in the long, wanton moan Gideon hadn’t realized she was making- mixing it with a moan of her own, a high, desperate thing that doubled, and tripled, the pleasure roaring in Gideon’s veins. 

Her mind blanked, the peak of her pleasure cresting, ascending, climbing higher and higher as Harrow worked her through it, rough and demanding with her fingers and her teeth and her tongue; Gideon couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, was left with only the ability to feel Harrow pumping in and out of her, devouring the moan from her lips. From far away, she heard splashing, felt hot cum running down her legs, felt her throat go raw with her pleasure.

Throughout it all, Harrow filled her senses, around, and against, and inside of her.

-

To say Gideon woke up on the floor would be to imply she had fallen asleep, which didn’t quite seem accurate for what the actual fuck had just happened.

Harrow crouched in front of her with a damp washcloth and a bottle of water when Gideon found her way back to the land of the living, dizzy and boneless in a sweaty heap against Harrow’s front door. She stared mutely at the bottle of water in Harrow’s hand- Harrow, whose expression now was one of gentle concern (two things Gideon had rarely seen on that face separately , let alone together)- and then realized, with a start, that she was not hallucinating, and that she was in fact sitting nearly butt-ass naked in a puddle of her own cum. 

“You made me squirt,” Gideon said dumbly; and then, with mounting awe and disbelief, she repeated herself. “You made me squirt, Harrow, what the fuck? How did you-?”

Gideon had never seen Harrow pretend at modesty- not once in their entire lives had the little gremlin been anything but preening and overconfident- so it was strange to watch her attempt to tamp it down now, pressing her lips into a line like that would hide the self-satisfaction in her eyes.

Newsflash: it didn’t.

“Indeed, Griddle. Now I need you to drink this.”

Gideon took the water bottle, twisting the cap and gulping without a second thought; the water soothed her throat, which was more raw than she had originally thought. “Thanks, nerd.”

“You’re welcome,” Harrow answered quietly; this bit of politeness was astonishing enough on its own, but Gideon found it paled in comparison to what came next.

Harrow began gently cleaning her.

Gideon froze, unsure what was happening- Harrow and gentle being two opposite ends of a spectrum- but Harrow seemed unbothered, first wiping the sweat from her brow, and then her neck, her chest- working her way down, carefully cleaning where Gideon was even now still overly-sensitive to the touch. 

By the time she had finished, setting aside the cloth, Gideon’s heart had ceased its racing; she figured she could probably be totally normal about this- people had sex with their best friends every day. Totally normal. Totally fine.

“Beloved?” Gideon asked. 

Ah, shit. Maybe not so normal.

“Unintentional. You may disregard that.”

Harrow’s voice was curt. Gideon shook her head, shimmying into her silkies. Her pants were, unfortunately, a lost cause for the time being. “Nope.”

Harrow had opened her mouth to speak, but paused at Gideon’s denial, scowling at her. 

“What do you mean, nope?”

“I mean I’m not going to ignore that.”

It was hugely satisfying to watch Harrow blush bright red in silence; Gideon, with her orgasm still humming in her veins and her heart doing weird arhythmic shenanigans in her chest, grinned widely as she leaned back against the door. 

“You’re- That’s- I didn’t mean for- it was, it was just a habit, Griddle,” Harrow stuttered, shifting her weight, getting her feet beneath her. “It doesn’t have to mean anything more than that. More than sex.”

Gideon reached out to grab Harrow before she’d even thought the motion through- Harrow paused, though, aiming her glare towards the living room at large.

“Sure, it doesn’t have to mean anything more,” Gideon said softly, “but what if it did?”

Harrow hardly seemed to breathe, a sentiment Gideon wholeheartedly agreed with; breathing was overrated, anyways. Accordingly, Gideon held her breath as she waited for Harrow to answer.

“You- You’re my friend, Griddle.”

“Best friend, actually.”

Harrow snorted, and something loosened in Gideon’s chest. 

“Fine; you’re my best friend, Griddle.”

“And also beloved.”

Gideon meant it as a statement, but it sounded more like a plea, embarrassingly enough. Fuck, she was down bad. 

But Harrow sighed, her shoulders bowing as she nodded.

“And also beloved,” she agreed quietly. “This doesn’t have to change anything between us, though- I understand if you don’t want-”

“Girl, what?”

Harrow’s mouth snapped shut. She cocked her head at Gideon curiously, waiting for Gideon to continue.

“You think I don’t want- this? What just happened?”

Harrow settled onto her heels, shaking off Gideon’s hand on her arm to cross them over her knees. She studied Gideon in silence for a moment before shrugging.

“You came here under the impression that I would tell you how I dominate women bigger than myself. I took advantage of your easily-aroused nature. I don’t expect you to-”

“Y’know, for being so fuckin’ smart, you’re real fuckin’ dumb, Nerdagesimus. You think I woulda let you touch me if I didn’t want you to touch me? You think I get that turned on for just any-fuckin’-body?”

Harrow rolled her eyes. “I would have to assume so, Griddle, given how many women you claim to sleep with.”

“Well, assuming makes an ass out of you and me, nerd. I let you touch me because I’ve always been- uh- pretty fuckin’ horny for you,” Gideon said, abruptly deciding against confessing the full depths of her goofy ass feelings. Seemed like that could wait for a time when she was wearing at least as many clothes as Harrow. 

Harrow, for her part, didn’t seem to notice Gideon’s hesitation; she ran a hand through the short curls of her hair and stood, extending her other hand to pull Gideon to her feet. She also rested a hand on Gideon's shoulder to steady her, which Gideon would have found funny if she wasn't so busy grappling with the fact that her childhood-enemy-turned-friend-turned-unrequited-crush might actually not be so unrequited after all.

After a moment in which Gideon tensed the muscles of her core so she wouldn’t get light-headed, Harrow sighed, and said, “Well, then perhaps we can make this work. More than just hooking up- because I do care about you, Griddle, despite your… The way that you are-” Gideon grinned at her, waggling her eyebrows- “More than a hookup, but less than dating. Friends with benefits, I suppose.”

“Friends with benefits,” Gideon agreed, heaving a deep breath. Then, she bumped Harrow’s shoulder with her own, grinning down at the smaller woman’s glare.

“So, you gonna show me how to domme or what?”

Notes:

Hahaha I'm neglecting all my other WIPs to write smutty one shots during work hours.

Fuck it, we ball.

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