#Host Virginia | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reginyani · 5 days ago

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Midnight Moments | s.reid x fem!reader

summary: rossi host's a new year's eve party at his mansion, where you and Spencer have too much to drink, and end up going home together. this leads from one thing to another, and you somehow end up on top of him.

cw: 18+, mdni, fem!bau!reader, drunk sex, vaginal sex, praise, drunk!reader, drunk!spencer, making out, unprotected sex, dom!reader

wc: 3k

authors note: this honestly is pretty lazy i haven't written smut or any kind of sex fanfiction in SOO long.. im so used to writing fluff, and i'm sorry for this monstrosity. i swear guys I USED TO BE GOOD!! but anyways, i hope you like because even though it's not as good as i wanted it, it took a while!! (reblog if u did!)

gif: reidgif

It was unreasonably warm for a New Year's Eve in Virginia, and the BAU team decided it would be fun to celebrate the holiday of transitioning to the new year at Rossi's sprawling mansion. The living room was lit by twinkling lights from a chandelier, casting a warm glow over the polished furniture. The scent of rich Italian food filled the air, mingling with the sharper tang of champagne. Laughter filled the room, and the unusual lightness of the air was noticeable tonight.

It wasn't too often that the team was able to unwind together. In fact, it had been months since they had been able to be in the same place without the stress of a case hanging over their heads. The new year was only a couple of hours away, and for once, nobody there was thinking about the darkness everyone had to face so often.

But tonight, you had been thinking about something else, rather... someone else. Spencer Reid sat on one of the plush couch cushions near the fireplace, his legs crossed with a glass of champagne in his hand. His tie was loosened, his hair a bit tousled from the evening's past activities. It had been quite some time since he had allowed himself to truly be 100% indulged in a night like this. His mind was usually full of numbers, equations, random facts, and the weight of the world's problems. But tonight, there was something oddly freeing about him tonight, and you couldn't tell if it was Garcia's laughter in the background or the sense that the world outside didn't exist.

Beside him, you took a seat, and you couldn't help but think how undeniably sexy you found him tonight. Maybe it was the loose tie, the way his hair was messier than usual, or maybe the way he was actively engaging in the conversations more than he normally did.

After a few moments of quiet conversation with Spencer, a bottle of wine appeared. You both shared laughs over something trivial—maybe the third or fourth joke of the night—but before long, both of your glasses were refilled. You didn't mean to drink so much, and you usually never did, but with the glow of the evening, it felt like such an easy thing to do. Spencer, though, seemed way more relaxed and loose tonight than you'd ever seen him.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asks, his voice a bit slurred, but his eyes still sharp.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" you question back, smirking as you raised your glass. The night was still young, and if you knew anything about the people in this room, it was that they could always handle another round of drinks. But you never had Spencer like this, and he never allowed himself to be so vulnerable with drinking alcohol. So were you really sure he could handle another round of drinks?

Spencer hesitated, staring at his drink like it was something from a different world. But then, a slow smile formed on his lips. "Well, I guess if we're both doing questionable things tonight, I suppose I could join you." He raises his glass to yours and slowly raises it to his lips. In what felt like seconds, the liquid disappeared.

The evening had quickly turned into a haze of laughter, clinking glasses, and everyone telling increasingly exaggerated stories. Spencer and Morgan's ties were long gone, and it was quite clear that everyone the night had reached its peak when Garcia decided to stand on the coffee table and dramatically recite a version of Romeo and Juliet with a very confused Reid forced to play the role of Romeo. At some point, Morgan drunkenly broke into a dance when one of his "favorite club songs" turned on, blasting from the speaker, which he received tons of criticism from Prentiss on. Rossi sat back, watching the spectacle unfold with a smirk on his face.

But as the night got older, the energy in the room began to wane. The champagne and wine had clearly done their work, and now basically everyone was drunk out of their minds, groaning in exhaustion. JJ was leaning against Will, slowly nodding off, while Hotch, looking slightly tired, kept checking the time on his phone. It was way past midnight, which meant the new year had already come around, and it wasn't long before the decision was made that it was time to go home.

"I think I'll call it a night, everyone," Hotch said, his words slow as he got up from his seat, groaning slightly.

"Agreed, get out of my house," Rossi replied, smirking slightly. "I'm getting way too old for this."

Morgan, still grinning but very clearly less steady on his feet, clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder, clearly startling Spencer as he flinched. "You doing alright, Pretty Boy?"

Spencer blinked a few times, trying to completely focus on Morgan and regain his composure. "Yeah... I just need to make sure I don't forget my keys." He fumbled around in his pockets, very clearly confused about the whereabouts of his keys. "I'll be fine. It's just a very... long walk back to my place." He groans.You laugh at his comment, standing up from the couch and helping him gather some of his things.

Garcia was already calling an Uber, the sound of her bubbly voice ordering a ride with Morgan in the background. Clearly, the idea sounded good to Spencer, because soon he was on the app ordering himself one. His hand clutched his phone with an almost desperate intensity, his brows furrowed in concentration.

"Do you... need help with that?" you asked, your words just a little slower than usual. You both were beyond drunk, and Spencer's face was flushed, his eyes glassy as he stared at the Uber app.

"I've got it," he said, his voice more clipped than normal. "I—uh, do I just... wait, Do I need to set a destination first?"

You tried not to laugh, but the sight of him furiously tapping on his phone, trying to figure out how he can summon an Uber, was enough to make you let out a hearty laugh. "Spencer, you've gotten an Uber before, right? You don't need to give them a whole speech on how to get you home," you said as he started to type a long paragraph in the 'extra details' section, basically giving the driver a shorter way to get him home, forgetting they have Google Maps.

"Right, of course." His cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as he looked over at you. "Okay, well, it's on the way..."

"Good," you lean against the doorframe for support, already starting to feel the warmth of the alcohol take over your body completely and start to cloud your thoughts.

"Can I come with you? I don't think me going home alone with an unknown driver this late at night is a great idea," you say to him, saying your words without completely thinking them through at first. Did you seriously just ask if you could spend the night at Spencer's place?

"Yeah, sure... that's fine." He answered, leaning against a wall, breathing heavily. Clearly, this was his first time being as drunk as he is now.

The Uber arrived soon after, and after saying goodbye to everybody, you both made your way outside, barely noticing the crispness of the air against your skin as you both climbed into the back seat. You settled into the leather seats, and Spencer quickly buckled his seatbelt, though he wasn't quite as smooth with his movements as he usually was. You did the same, your fingers fumbling to find the buckle for a couple of seconds.

As the car started to move, a comfortable silence fell between you two, only broken by the faint hum of the engine and the occasional creak of the wheels. The lights from the city blared into the window, making you squint your eyes and turn away from the window.

"So..." you smirked as you began to speak quietly. "Do you always drink this much at parties?"

Spencer shifted in his seat at the comment. He didn't meet your gaze right away, but after a second, he shrugged. "Not usually. I don't know, I just... for some reason it felt different tonight. I didn't really want to be that guy who spends the whole night hiding in the corner, not enjoying himself."

"Well, you sure didn't hide tonight." You teased, your tone a little more playful than intended.

He chuckled, and you could tell he was relaxed—more relaxed than you'd seen him in a long time. Maybe ever, actually. It was strange seeing him act so... human. It wasn't often you witnessed that.

"I guess I was," he said, his smile a bit lopsided now. "I think I needed that more than I realized."

You nod, agreeing with him silently. "You know, you're actually quite fun when you let loose," you said, the feeling of the alcohol kicking in more with each passing second.

Spencer's gaze locked with yours for a quick second before he quickly looked away. "Yeah?" His cheeks flash red once again. "I've been told I'm too uptight."

"Don't listen to whoever says that," you replied almost too quickly. "You're just being you, and that's a nice trait to have." You faced him fully, your voice lowering as you continued to speak. "But... I do like this side of you."

His lips parted, a bit taken aback, but he recovered quickly, a soft laugh escaping him. "Maybe the alcohol is really taking in, but... thanks. I think I might also like this side of me too."

You smiled, everything feeling just a bit hazy, but the sincerity in Spencer's voice made your heart skip a beat. Before either of you could continue to speak, the car rolled to a stop in front of Spencer's apartment building.

You both thanked the Uber driver, then climbed out of the car. The cool night air hit both your faces, and then you realized just how unsteady you were on your feet. Spencer quickly steadied you, his hands gripping your waist to support you. "You okay?" he asked, his voice suddenly becoming serious again.

You nod, blushing heavily at his hand placement. Your thoughts wandered, and he raised an eyebrow, confused by your zoning out. He snapped a finger, and you snapped back to reality. "Yeah, yeah... One step at a time, right?"

Spencer smiles, continuing to hold onto you. "One step at a time."

Eventually, you both make it to his apartment door, and he's still holding you up, making sure you don't fall.

He leans to flick up the light switch, trying to have as minimal movement as possible. When the light hits his face, you observe his features. His cheeks were flushed, his lips plump and parted, and his eyes slightly watery. Your drunken mind was in awe, finding him completely and utterly breathtaking. Why though? You never had before...

He looks down at you, smiling a bit before guiding you over to his couch. You both sit down, his legs stretched out in front of him. You kick your heels off, finally feeling the freedom of what felt like bricks taken off your feet.

A few minutes go by, the silence becoming unnoticeable. He starts to speak; his words are still slurred but sharp. "You know... I've always found it fascinating how people underestimate the power of silence. Not just the absence of sound, but... the weight of it. Do you ever think about that?"

You laugh softly at his words, finding his brain process oddly fascinating. If you were sober, you generally wouldn't be interested in his new weird random topic, but this time you were.

"You're drunk, Spencer. You're talking about silence like it's some kind of breathtaking quantum physics thingy." You reply, looking up at him with your eyebrows raised.

"It is!" he argues, furrowing his eyebrows. "But you're right. I probably shouldn't try to sound profound when I've had at least, like, 1 glass of champagne and 3 glasses of wine," he says, puffing up his cheeks.

You glance up at him again, a warm smile spreading across your face. His eyes, the look a little too soft tonight, and it's driving you nuts, making your heart flutter like crazy.

"Don't worry, you're smarter than me regardless. Even when you're drunk out of your mind."

Spencer's gaze softens, his eyes locking with yours for a moment that felt like forever. He shifts a bit closer to you, trying not to make it noticeable. But oh... it is.

"You think I'm smart? and... not annoying?" He asks, his voice quieter, as if the question had more meaning than it should.

"Of course I do. You're literally brilliant." You say it without hesitation, almost like a reflex, and it catches him off guard for a second. But seriously, what kind of question is that? He had an IQ of 187 and could read 20,000 words per minute. He's quite literally a genius.

Spencer's lips curl into a smile, and he tilts his head to look at you. He studies your face, with a curious, almost vulnerable look in his eyes.

"You know, nobody ever really says that often unless they're teasing me. Sometimes I just wonder if I actually make sense to people, or if I just ramble everyone's ears off." You continue to smile, and for a second, Spencer feels like your eyes are literally twinkling at him.

"You ramble. But you make sense. You always do." You reassure him, but the atmosphere starts to feel heavier as you continue to compliment him.

He shifts again, and now his body is just a few inches away from yours. You feel the heat radiating off of him, and suddenly you feel hyper-aware of everything happening between you two. His hand brushes against your arm for a second, but he doesn't immediately pull back, his touch lingering. You gulp, his touch sending flutters down your chest.

He begins to speak again, but somehow softer than before. How is it even possible? "I'm glad you think that. Not many people allow themselves to tell me that or just think that in general." He pauses for a second, "You mean a lot to me, you know? More than I let on..."

After he says this, the air feels thicker, charged with unspoken tension. You look back up at him, meeting his eyes, and this time, the air feels anything but heavy and awkward. Instead, it's full of possibilities.

Without thinking first, you lean in just a bit, your breath starting to mingle with his. His eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. He brings his hand up to the side of your face, as if he's waiting for you to make the first move.

You whisper, "You mean a lot to me, too." And in one swift motion, his lips meet yours—soft at first. As if something inside of him shifts suddenly, the kiss deepens, the closeness overwhelming you both.

You pull away for a second, catching your breath. Spencer lets an overwhelmed whimper slip from his lips, and he looks at you with puppy eyes.

This drives you absolutely mad.

You lunge for his lips, grabbing his face and pulling him into it deeper. You pull him closer, shifting your body to straddle his lap, your skirt riding up your legs. He whines; feeling your body on top of him makes him feel so vulnerable, and he likes it.

You continue to kiss him, skillfully unbuttoning his shirt as you do so. You pull it off his arms, and you pull away from him, pulling off your shirt in one swift motion. You then go in to kiss his collarbone, and that makes him unwillingly gasp. When you start to bite on his skin, that almost makes Spencer scream.

The erection in his pants didn't go unnoticed anymore the more horny you got for him, and you start to shift your hips on top of him, feeling it through your underwear. And at this point, your pussy was throbbing.

"I... I need you..." He mumbles, throwing his head back.

"Speak up, baby. You need what?" You tease him. He looks back up at you, feeling defeated as you make him say it again.

"I need you!" He whines, and that makes you raise an eyebrow in amusement. You liked seeing him like this. Drunk and overwhelmed with pleasure, messy hair and slick, wet lips.

You lift yourself up onto your knees, quickly unzipping his pants and then pulling down his boxers. His hard cock sprung out, pre-cum already coating the tip. You look down at him, smirking as you pull your underwear to the side, your pussy throbbing, begging for touch.

You take his cock in hand, stroking it a few times, making him gasp in pleasure. "Ah—Y/N..." He lets out, barely able to form words, just a mess of sounds of please.

You smirk, groaning as you guide the tip of his cock to your pussy, rocking your hips back and forth as the tip rubs against you. You moan, throwing your own head back as much as you could.

Eventually, you slowly slide his cock into your pussy, slowly starting to bounce up and down. You speed up, and Spencer starts to breathe heavily, you both becoming a moaning mess.

He begins to rock his hips with you, "God, you're so perfect like this, Spence." You let out, your voice cracking between words as you try to praise him. Your fingers began to bury in his hair, pulling it slightly as you continued to bounce up and down on his cock.

"Y/N... I'm— I'm close..." He whines, holding onto your shoulders as you continue to ride him.

"Yes! Please, yes, Spencer... come inside me!" You moan loudly, chasing your high as well. This was enough to completely drive him over the edge.

Spencer came hard, his legs shaking as his hips pressed against your skin as he moaned loudly. You press your head into his chest, feeling pleasure take over your body as you also reach the edge, mingling your moans together.

Eventually, he pulls out, and you collapse onto the side of his couch, breathing heavily. You look over to the side, where Spencer is still breathing heavily, completely overwhelmed with the whole situation.

"Damn, Spencer... you're weak." You say, chuckling as you try to make it less awkward than it already was.

"Oh, shut up."

tags:

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler #mgg #smut #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #smut fanfiction #fanfiction

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wndaswife · 10 months ago

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saving room for dessert | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Dinner with the new neighbours sets you on edge due to the repeated subtle passes made at your wife. You reestablish your ownership over Wanda in the kitchen while your guests wait for dessert in the dining room.

Word count: 6864

Tags | MDNI: smut, domestic fluff, humour, jealousy, possessiveness, reader has a penis, handjobs, brief thigh fucking, daddy kink, degradation, but way more praise, what is the word for almost getting caught fucking in the room beside the dinner guests??, sub!wanda maximoff

A/N: the corny alliteration of vision and virginia's name was not my doing it is based on his comic series ndskjfnkjfn

The town of Westview was a rather quiet one, though both you and your wife really loved the neighbourhood community, for it was friendly and close-knit. When you first moved into Westview together, it was because Wanda’s job had relocated her to somewhere further than where you had previously lived, and close to the charming town that was alike to the kind you had always talked about living in together.

Both of you were delighted to find that the people of Westview were welcoming and kind, and that there were frequently tourists that made the small town buzz with life, for Westview’s small-town charm along with its infamous preservation of its older architecture and landscape was a sight that many of those from the more bustling areas of New Jersey enjoyed visiting.

Though Westview had a tightly-knit community and a steady flow of cheerful tourists, it was rather uncommon for the small town to get new people moving in, so when one of the new neighbours ended up working alongside Wanda, the two of you were rather eager to get to know them — a long-time married couple with two children who’d graduated from college and were now living elsewhere.

After about two weeks of scheduling between the four of you, dinner that had long been spoken about was finally happening at yours and Wanda’s.

You were looking forward to it, for Wanda spoke quite highly of the wife, who she described as an extremely kind and funny woman. You had spoken with her a few times too, but only by chance like under casual circumstances when you were bringing in groceries with Wanda and she was out gardening.

Additionally, Virginia, the wife, lived in Russia until she was eight, and though Wanda was Sokovian, the two were able to initially enjoy discussing their Slavic similarities in culture and dialect until they became closer, chatting casually about things from their spouses to Westview. Eventually, conversation led up to Wanda inviting Virginia and her husband, Vision, over for dinner.

You were looking forward to it, and though Wanda was looking forward to dinner with the neighbours too, she also enjoyed hosting and cooking, and so the kitchen was busy and smelling wonderfully for the last little while as you cooked together.

Mostly, it was Wanda who took the lead with cooking, but since being married, her talents had rubbed off on you; you could now dice onions at perhaps two-thirds of the speed she could, and Wanda also always says you’re good at cleaning up after her while she cooks.

But also, you really just loved doing things like this with her, when you could just talk about anything, just the two of you, while doing things you could only dream about when the two of you were still only dating, living in a place together that you could also only dream about back then.

You wrapped your arm around your wife’s waist once she slid the potato dauphinoise into the oven and shut it, pulling her into your body and kissing her forehead. “I love you,” you uttered into her warm skin.

She held your chin in her hand and angled your face to hers so she was able to kiss your lips. “I love you too,” she replied, smiling sweetly at you.

Your guests were five minutes early, perhaps to make a good impression, for they could have been exactly on time if they so preferred seeing as though they lived right next door.

It was you who opened the door as Wanda was finishing up a few things in the kitchen, ensuring the cheesecake you had made earlier was comfortably sitting in the fridge waiting until it was time to serve dessert.

Also, she thought it’d be a good impression for you to greet them first, since you’d yet to meet either of them officially.

Cheesecake was actually your signature greatest achievement in the kitchen aside from nearly — not nearly at all, really, but you like to boast — keeping up Wanda’s onion-chopping. You’d taken the cheesecake recipe from a cookbook, and it was Wanda who adjusted most of the measurements and changed some of the ingredients, but it was you who could make it perfectly.

Well, Wanda could make it perfectly too, and probably better, but she never tried; she liked the way you made it, and gave you recipe credit though it was her who really reconstructed it to be what it tasted like now. But she always says that it was you who found the original recipe, at the end of the day.

Not that any of that would matter to your guests, and maybe it might be a story told over dinner if the topic came up, but it mattered plenty to you and Wanda; you wanted to concoct a special dinner together, preparing dishes with special meaning. Though some of said meanings were not as profound in their history as the cheesecake’s, like how Wanda lathered the dinner rolls in butter a second time halfway through because you liked when the top of the rolls weren’t completely dry by the time they were finished baking.

In any case, the intention was to host a dinner that was friendly and warm, and so the dinner spread was selected with intention.

“Hi,” you greeted with a smile, waving a bit awkwardly for no reason at all before ushering them into the foyer and closing the front door behind them. “You must be Virginia — I’ve heard lots about you from Wanda.”

The woman, slightly taller than you and with smooth, soft looking dark hair that ended at the mid-way point of her slender neck, beamed at you as she stepped into the house, her husband following behind her. She took your hand with both of hers, warm fingers caressing your hand gently. “And you must be Y/N. I’ve also heard quite a bit about you from Wanda,” she said, eyes crinkling at their edges as she smiled.

She gestured to her husband, a clean-shaved blonde man with aviators, slightly shorter than his wife but still a bit taller than you. “This is my husband, Vision,” she introduced. “I don’t believe even Wanda’s yet met his acquaintance.”

It was when Vision shifted the lidded ceramic bowl into his other hand to free one in order to shake your hand that you realised he was carrying something. You shook his hand with a friendly smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said cordially and with a smile.

“Virginia!” Wanda cheerfully greeted as she walked into the foyer, hair fixed up and now without her cooking apron on. They exchanged a hug and Virginia kissed her cheek before introducing Wanda to her husband.

“Thank you for having us,” Virginia said appreciatively. “We’re both thrilled to finally get to know both of you better.”

Wanda replied, sharing a tenderness with Virginia within their met eyes, “You’re very welcome. Y/N and I have been looking forward to tonight all week.”

“Oh,” you interjected softly, realising Vision was still holding his ceramic bowl. “I’m so sorry, let me take this into the dining room for you.”

“In fact, I’ll also take the both of you into the dining room too,” Wanda added lightheartedly. “Let’s get out of the foyer. You can set your shoes down anywhere by the door, and the coat rack’s right here.”

Once wine had been poured and everyone’s plates were served the dinner you and Wanda had made together — pomegranate-brined chicken with white balsamic charred peach, potato dauphinoise, and a medley of some vegetables — you each sat at the dining room table, enjoying your dinner together.

There was conversation about how wonderfully everything tasted, and you were sure to credit Wanda with taking charge in the kitchen, allowing her to talk a little bit about how she prepared the meal and delving into details the couple asked her about, like how she had made the potato dauphinoise so creamy.

You began to truly enjoy their company for how much they were complimenting your wife.

Until there was Vision’s, You’re a gorgeous woman who can put together an equally as gorgeous dinner spread — Y/N’s hit the jackpot.

“Dinner couldn’t have been done without Y/N,” Wanda assured and then looked at you with a proud smile mostly meant for your eyes, but you weren’t paying as much attention to her as you were scrutinising Vision’s body language after his comment.

It wasn’t… inherently malicious.

But there was something implicative in his wording that made you slightly sceptical of him.

Perhaps in an attempt to… Well, you actually weren’t entirely sure what Virginia was attempting to do when she lightly corrected, “Both Y/N and Wanda have hit the jackpot finding each other. You two seem so perfect for each other. Not to mention, if I might be so blunt, you’re a rather attractive couple.”

Wanda laughed, but in the way she regarded Virginia’s expression for just an additional moment before looking back down to her plate to respond with something humble and bashful, you knew she was also curious about the other couple’s compliments.

“I moved the wine around!” you tried, intentionally poorly, to call after Wanda when conversation came around to discussing the different wines you had, resulting in Wanda leaving to go get one the opposite couple loved. “Sorry, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t believe I’ve yet told her how I reorganised down there.”

As you headed down the hallway, you inhaled and exhaled thoroughly to untie the uneasy kink in your stomach, sure to keep your shoulders still so your tenseness wasn’t obvious to your guests who could still see your back until you headed downstairs to where the wine was kept, for their comments hadn’t stopped since the first time.

Wanda looked over her shoulder at you when you descended the stairs and she straightened from looking around at the selection. “Baby, do we still have the Pinot Grigio they were asking about?” she asked, hands on her hips as she leaned back a bit and ran her eyes over the selection on the wall in front of her.

“Are they swingers or something?” you asked as you approached, placing a hand atop Wanda’s hand on her hip as you reached around her and took the white from the wall to her left.

“Oh, you moved them,” Wanda noted, thanking you when you handed it to her.

You stood beside her in front of the wine rack and repeated your question, looking up at the closed basement door before asking again. “Are they swingers?”

“What?” Wanda looked up from surveying the wine, looking confused. “What are swingers?”

Clarifying, you replied, “Couples who sleep with other couples.”

“Them?” she asked incredulously and laughed. You took that as a ‘no,’ then looked over at the basement door curiously as if you could see them through it, ruminating over their comments. Then Wanda was silent and unmoving and you looked at her as she was tapping her fingers against the glass of wine, seemingly in deep thought of her own. “Well… Come to think of it…”

“Wanda!” you hissed. “You invited swingers over to our place for dinner!”

“I didn’t know!” she answered. “I just thought… Virginia talks about her sex life often and I suppose there are some times that she’s alluded to… to swinging about with other couples—”

“It sounds weird when you use that term like that — just say sleeping with,” you interrupted.

Your wife gave you a look and you cracked a tiny amused smile before she continued. “Anyway, yes, I suppose they’re swingers. I didn’t know!”

With your arms crossed, you tapped your fingers against your upper arm in thought, and Wanda supposed you were thinking of how to converse with them now that you both knew they were swingers. But instead you asked hesitantly, meeting Wanda’s eyes, “Are you… interested in that?”

Wanda scoffed. “Y/N, no. Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied. You surveyed her face for a moment longer and she fully turned her body to face you. “You really think I want to sleep with other couples?”

“No, I don’t, but we’ve never had the conversation before, so it’s possible that you’ve had it on your mind before, even in passing.”

She assured, “I do not want to sleep with anyone else but you.” It was almost funny to hear those words come out of her if you thought about it with no context, but context given, it was really a relief to you. “I’m entirely satisfied with only us, and the thought of being with anyone else disturbs me greatly. I’m not offended that you asked just to make sure, but the idea of being with another couple, or anyone but you, has never been anything that I’ve entertained. Y/N, I didn’t even know what swinging was until a moment ago.”

“Okay?” she checked in, her voice soft, letting her other hand with the wine hang by her hip while she stepped towards you and cupped your cheek with a warm hand. “I really didn’t know — and not even subconsciously, if you’re thinking that.”

“Okay,” you confirmed and smiled at her, causing Wanda to smile at you in response. She leaned forward and kissed you.

When she pulled away, she met your eyes and your chest warmed when Wanda’s smile crinkled the sides of her eyes. Her thumb rubbed against your chin adoringly. “I’m unsure how we ought to go about signalling a lack of interest in having sex with them,” she told you.

“Just a lack of reciprocation, maybe?” you suggested, and at that, you perked up at the recollection of their commentary that you now knew was flirtatious. “Wanda, if Vision calls you gorgeous one more time, I’ll fuck you over the dining table monogamously in front of them — I’m serious. It’s driving me crazy. He’s right, but to know they’re both just thinking of how much more gorgeous you’d be if we were all having sex is rather startling.”

It wasn’t that they weren’t making subtle passes at you too, but since Wanda was far more communicative and talkative, it was natural that their efforts to become closer circulated your wife far more than it did you.

Wanda laughed and pushed at your shoulder playfully, her head thrown back slightly. “You’re such a freak,” she said. She took your hand and you headed out of the basement together. “It’s okay. Now that we’ve spoken about it together, I’m sure it’ll be much less awkward since we know they’re swingers. It likely won’t be a problem until they bring it up, and then we can clarify that we’re not interested.”

The plan was more than simple, but it failed to consider how agitated you were becoming, little comments now seeming much larger now that their intentions were clarified between you and your wife.

It was things from Virginia noting how you seemed to be the one to ‘take charge’ in the marriage, to asking outright how often the two of you had sex, about children and the possibility of them, and plenty of other things that were likely of no consequence but seemed irritating to you because you were simply irritated.

Mostly, it was Virginia’s comments that were permitted to be slightly more vulgar as it was she who asked about yours and Wanda’s sex life, for she was now more than only work friends with your wife, and she’d shared much about her own intimate tendencies with Vision before.

The conversations about sex weren’t crude, and mostly they were merely jokes, but knowing the intentionality behind them now made them far more than that.

But it was about more than references to sex; there were comments made about how both you and Wanda were such a perfect couple, how well you worked together and how kind you were — observations upon observations about how you and Wanda were within your marriage.

It seemed they had standards, at least.

And truly, Virginia and Vision were kind people and you would thoroughly enjoy having them as neighbours as soon as it was made clear that you and Wanda weren’t interested in sleeping with them.

What irritated you wasn’t necessarily all about them and their commentary, for they knew not that you and Wanda weren’t interested, and anyways, if Virginia had been alluding to being a swinger along with her husband on several occasions, this dinner might very well be interpreted by them as interest.

So you didn’t necessarily dislike them.

It was all true that you and Wanda made a wonderful pair and that Wanda was gentle and so generous, and that she was beautiful and all the things that had been said about her tonight.

She was very funny too when she wanted to be, and had great taste in movies and all her clothes always sat so well on her shoulders, and her hair was always so soft and the crook of her neck was always very warm, and her fingers were gentle and curious when she had them wrapped around you, and she was so delicate when she slept, and her elbows were a nice shape, though you don’t think you ever told her what you thought about her elbows — all this Virginia and Vision didn’t know, but for whatever reason, you thought so much about it all.

And for another inexplicable reason, it was rather related to how irritated you were.

“Y/N and I have been married for two and a half-ish years now,” Wanda said in response to a question you weren’t listening to, placing her hand on your thigh. You looked over at her and she smiled at you sweetly.

You’d only said a few things in the last few minutes, little comments and visible reactions to show that you were engaged in the conversation, but nothing majorly contributory. You looked to the side in brief thought then said, “Two years and… seven months.”

With a second more to think, you also added, “Three days.”

Wanda thought that was funny, but also sweet, and her smile widened, perking up her ears slightly as her smile grew. She squeezed your knee and pulled her hand away to take a sip of wine. “Indeed — two years, eight months, and three days.”

“If we feel so inclined to place trust in my math,” you joked modestly.

You watched as Wanda conversed further with your guests, watching the way she laughed and how she looked over at you often to see your reactions to things or to just make eye contact with you. Specifically, you liked when she looked at you while she was laughing to see if you were also laughing, to share in that joy with you.

As you watched your wife between sips of wine, there was a rupture of adrenaline that came over you. All that you’d been thinking of about Wanda wasn’t some abstract concept about some idea of Wanda — they were all about the woman you loved, the woman who loved you, the woman you were married to.

The woman who was yours, and who’d only ever be yours, as you were hers.

The thought warmed you and made you feel delighted, but your cheeks felt warm and the wine warmed your throat and chest in such a pleasant way, and suddenly, you needed Wanda then and there like you knew you had her.

“Are we all ready for dessert?” Wanda asked, looking around at the table to see everyone’s plates empty with their silverware to the side.

When Vision confirmed for both himself and Virginia, Wanda said, “Y/N’s made a wonderful cheesecake for the occasion. She can be quite the chef.” Her praise made you feel a bit bashful and you smiled at her gratefully.

Virginia expressed excitement for dessert while you and Wanda collected the empty plates to bring to the kitchen, letting them know it’d be a few minutes.

You followed behind Wanda as she headed down the hallway and into the kitchen. Dishes were thoroughly emptied and rinsed before being placed into the sink while Wanda carefully took the cheesecake out of the fridge.

“Can you take this?” she asked, holding the cake out to you. You took it from her and placed it on the island counter at the centre of the kitchen. “I think I’ll slice some fresh fruit and arrange it nicely on top. I didn’t want to do it before it was served or it wouldn’t be fresh.”

You were listening, but not quite taking in what she was saying. You watched her closely as she took out some fruits and honey from the fridge and brought it to the counter before taking out the cutting board. She tucked loose hair behind her ears and pushed her sleeves up.

Her neck was exposed and you felt the urge to smell her perfume, feel the warmth of her skin against the tip of your nose.

You stepped forward so your pelvis was pressed against her hip, an arm wrapped around her waist as you pulled her close and ducked your head beyond the strands of her hair, burying your nose in her neck. She tipped her head to the side, allowing you room to kiss up her neck.

You felt the vibrations of her laugh against your lips.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I need you,” you answered briefly, using your other hand to tug her sleeve down slightly and expose some of her shoulder so you could kiss there too. There was no response from her aside from a soft hum, and you knew it had been on her mind too. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about it; all their implications have made me think of you all night.”

“And that constitutes you needing me now?” she asked, turning her head to look down at your face along the slope of your nose and forehead seeing as your face was still half-buried within the crook of her neck. “I would have thought you’d be too busy brooding.”

She was trying half-heartedly to taper your desire, but the soft inflection in her voice told you she’d certainly felt the same thrum you’d been feeling too.

“I was busy with far more important things.” You wrapped your fingers around her wrist carefully and led her hand down to between your hips, and in spite of her hesitation, Wanda’s fingers wrapped delicately around you through your pants. Your hips immediately bucked into her hand.

Wanda inhaled sharply then sighed at the feeling of you. “Y/N…” Your name trembled on her lips. You watched as she swallowed, eyes flickering up at the hallway in front of you both. Her jaw tensed and she looked back down, fingers twitching as she internally fought against her most rational objections.

She bit the inside of her cheek before her hand moved, unbuttoning your pants then unzipping. She met your eyes, her hand pausing momentarily, perhaps wishing you might change your mind suddenly and stop her before she was unable to stop herself. But you said nothing, only meeting her eyes with stubborn conviction.

Your gaze made her cheeks flush a soft pink and Wanda shifted in her spot, pushing her own hips against the edge of the island counter, no doubt feeling her own desire growing. She looked down and tucked her hand past the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down along with your pants until your cock was free.

“I’ve been thinking about having your lips around my cock,” you whispered, your lips brushing against the lobe of her ear. “About the way you groan when I pull out just enough so you can taste the way you make me feel against your tongue before I fuck myself down your throat. I thought about how beautiful your pussy looks when I lay you down and spread your cunt open. I thought about you.”

Her breathing became heavy at the sight of your arousal, seeing how you twitched as you spoke about her. Her hand wrapped around you, her thumb brushing gently over your sensitive tip and eliciting a soft grunt from you.

“Fuck, Wanda,” you cursed from beyond clenched teeth. Your hips twitched forward into her hand and Wanda didn’t wait a moment before giving you the friction you wanted, her hand jerking around you and repressing a moan of her own as she felt you throb and twitch in the warm confines of her palm.

Your arm wrapped around her waist advanced upwards, pulling up some of her shirt and exposing some of her lower stomach as your hand groped at Wanda’s clothed breast.

She let out a soft moan and you watched as she squeezed her thighs together and further pressed her pelvis into the kitchen counter in desperation. Her hand gained speed, ensuring to graze around your tip each time her hand continued its rhythm around you. Her head rested on your shoulder as she watched the way she touched you, watched the way you let her touch you, her breaths shaky as she felt her own desire climb.

But how could you deny your wife mutual pleasure?

You moved the cutting board to the side and Wanda watched as you readjusted things.

“Y/N, don’t,” she protested quietly. “We can’t.”

Ignoring her, you moved from her side, her hand releasing from around you as you placed your hands on her hips and pressed her against the counter.

You unbuttoned her pants and watched over Wanda’s shoulder as she watched your hands, her chest rising and falling, gripping the edge of the counter. She was so warm against your body and her perfume smelled so nice.

You pulled her pants down along with her underwear, allowing you to press your cock against her perfect ass.

Wanda exhaled a deep, trembling sigh and she leaned forward against the counter. “Y/N,” she weakly protested again, reaching back and trying to swat your hand away.

Impatient about wanting her to give up her hesitation, you pulled her pants down further below her ass and slotted yourself between her thighs, parting her wet cunt with your dick and brushing your tip against her clit.

Her head fell back against your shoulder and you felt her thighs squeeze together ever so slightly, nudging you up against her clit.

“We can’t?” you asked.

“They’ll…” Wanda braced herself again and straightened her back, knuckles turning white as she pressed the pads of her fingers into the underside of the counter. “They’re in the other room. We’d have to…”

“Be quick?”

She nodded.

“I can be quick,” you told her. You kissed the corner of her jaw, the hollow part behind her earlobe. “You know I can be quick.”

Your hand slid down her stomach, the heel of your hand brushing against the space between her hips before your fingers found her clit. Carefully, you brushed them against her, feeling the way she twitched her ass back against you, subtly rubbing herself against your cock that was still throbbing between her thighs.

“Beg me to fuck you.”

Wanda looked over her shoulder at you. “What?” she asked. “I thought you wanted–”

“But you were so adamant that we couldn’t. Now, I’m not so convinced myself,” you said. “You’ll have to beg me.”

“Y/N, please,” she whispered impatiently.

You gave a quick pinch to her clit and Wanda repressed a yelp as her body jolted against yours. “That’s not how you beg, baby.”

Wanda urged, “We don’t have time.”

“Make time.”

Impatient, you spanked Wanda’s ass lightly and took a handful of the soft flesh, eliciting a sharp inhale from your wife before she sighed out, “Oh, Y/N…”

She reached back, parting from your hips to make enough room for her hand. She wrapped her hand around your cock and stroked it slowly, bending herself over the counter and presenting herself to you obediently.

“Please, daddy,” she begged. “I want you inside me. I want… I want you. Please. I need you.”

You watched as her desperate hand continued to pleasure you, watched as her back arched as she bent over the counter. You pushed her shirt up her back, eyes running up the delicate curve of her spine and feeling with your palm the smoothness of her soft skin.

“Are you… Are you going to?” Wanda asked nervously, fully aware of the fact that you had every liberty to pull away and forget all about wanting to fuck her right there and then. She wasn’t exactly meeting your eyes, not that she could at the angle she was looking back over her shoulder at you, but she wasn’t exactly trying to either, for the possibility of you leaving her all desperate and unfucked was all too real.

You hummed in what sounded like consideration, but really, you were just running your eyes down the curve of Wanda’s lower back and the perfect swells of her ass, watching the way she continued to hesitantly stroke you, desperate to please and desperate to have you inside of her.

“How could I deny you, Wanda?” you finally answered, and you saw your wife flush from beyond her mess of loose strands, looking away and at the hallway ahead that led to the dining room.

“We really have to be quick,” she reminded, letting go of you but not without brushing her thumb over your tip again.

A hand came to her upper back and flattened her against the kitchen counter, a soft grunt leaving Wanda as was pressed down against the marble. “You really overestimate yourself if you really think it’ll take very long to get you to come,” you mocked, hands hooking under her hips and around her upper thighs, arching her back further and sticking her ass up.

At the sight of her cunt, you groaned and parted her sticky mess with your thumb and middle finger, brushing your index finger down across her clit. You ran your thumb across her hole, dipping ever so carefully into her before removing your hand to position yourself against her opening.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” you said, “how embarrassed and shy you were every time they mentioned sex or asked about our sex life. Trust me, there were dozens of other things running through my head, but one in particular.”

Wanda gripped at the edge of the counter, taking in a breath as she felt you prod at her opening with your tip, dipping in just enough for her to feel the stretch of your cock sliding into her. “What… What was it?” she asked quietly.

“I wondered why you felt such an urge to act so embarrassed talking about sex when you know what a fucking slut you are,” you gritted out before your hands tightened around her thighs below her hips and pulled her ass back against you so your cock slid into her with a single thrust.

You leaned forward to grunt against her shoulder, muffling your noises and letting your wife know how good she felt. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good around my dick, angel,” you groaned. “Sweet innocent girls wouldn’t be able to take cock like this, Wanda. You put up a front when you’re with them, but you know how much you love getting your pussy fucked raw by daddy. Isn’t that right?”

Wanda shut her eyes tightly, her moans and yelps being only partially-swallowed as she tried to keep them from escaping past her lips, though it become increasingly difficult as you began thrusting forward, trapping her between the kitchen counter and your hips and forcing her to withstand the entire impact of your brutal fucking.

“Th-That’s right…” she conceded.

“I know it is,” you agreed. “I know it is, because it’s fucking filthy. You’re a filthy slut, baby. You can hear it, can’t you?” You reached down to rub your fingers against your wife’s clit. “You can feel how much it turns you on that you’re all daddy’s, that daddy can fuck you whenever she wants because she owns you.”

Your forehead laid against her shoulder and Wanda reached up to cradle the back of your head with her hand, interlacing her fingers with your hair.

“That’s right. Fucking take it,” you grunted into her ear, feeling yourself growing closer each time Wanda’s walls squeezed around you, listening to her delicate high-pitched yelps every time you pinched her clit or thrusted into her so hard her ass stung with the way your skin slapped against hers.

Her hips were beginning to become sore with the way they were pressed against the edge of the counter.

“Do any of you need help in there?” Virginia called from the dining room, audibly beginning to head down the hallway to the kitchen.

“A-Ah, no!” Wanda called back, her attempts at repressing her moans making her response come out slightly more aggressive than she’d wished. “Please don’t! We’re almost finished. Just…” Her head hung as she quickly ran out of excuses, but she couldn’t bring herself to push you away — not when she was so, so close.

Not when you felt this good inside of her, holding her so close against you.

You felt so good with your arms around her.

You took a handful of Wanda’s ass as you shoved her further down against the counter so she was being soundlessly fucked from behind as her hair gradually became undone, her shirt riding up to expose that beautiful curve of her spine that you loved.

“Wanda’s a bit of a perfectionist with decorating the cake,” you added, digging your nails into her malleable flesh and watching as smooth ivory tinted into a flushed red. “She wants it to be a surprise!”

“I promise we’re… we’re nearly finished!” Wanda called back, slightly breathless, before quickly burying her face into her arms and muffling herself.

Virginia gave in, saying something about having the both of you promise not to work too hard because both she and Vision would love the cake anyways. But neither of you paid much attention once you heard her walking back down to the dining room.

“You feel so good inside of me, daddy,” Wanda whimpered into her arms. “Please come inside. I want to feel you. I wanna feel how warm you are.”

Being degraded always turned Wanda on, but it was being praised that made her come; you loved how your wife was so sensitive to sweet things like that.

So you lifted her from the counter with your arm wrapped around her waist so her arms were taut with her hands gripping the edge of the counter again. From here, you were pressed against her with access to whisper into her ear.

“You’ve been so good for me, haven’t you, sweetheart?” you complimented against her cheek, pressing a kiss there and running your hand beneath the confines of her shirt. “All nervous and hesitant to let daddy make you feel good at first, but you knew better later, didn’t you? You know that I know what’s best for you, honey.”

Wanda nodded fervently. “Yes, I…”

Your hand pulled Wanda’s bra to the side and you kneaded her breast with your hand, feeling the way her nipple hardened against your palm before moving to the other and pinching her other nipple between your thumb and forefinger. “Oh, I know,” you cooed when she leaned back against you with a prolonged, quiet moan. “My princess, you’re such a good girl.”

“Why don’t you listen to what a good girl you are, hm?” you asked, moving both your hands down to grip her hips again and pulling her against you. You watched in detail as you pulled out of her, her glistening pussy wrapped around your cock, before you thrusted back in, your obedient wife taking every inch.

Both of you listened to how her cunt sounded around your dick, her slick coating you as you throbbed inside of her, her tight walls squeezing you in just the right way, feeling the way the pressure from her walls gripped around your tip when you pulled out at just the right length.

“Fuck, baby, your pussy feels so good,” you groaned, leaning back so you could watch the way her ass looked when you rutted your hips against her. Unable to help yourself in spite of the noise you knew it might make, you delivered a spank to the side of Wanda’s ass.

You then wrapped your arm around Wanda’s waist again, your other hand moving up to cup the side of her cheek and turn her head around so you could kiss her lips. “Come on, angel, fuck yourself on daddy’s cock. Let me see how badly you wanna come on my dick.”

Wanda obediently began moving, arching her back to allow herself leverage to fuck herself back against you, listening to how her ass slapped back against your hips.

“That’s good, baby. You’re so beautiful,” you breathed out against her neck, kissing the warm expanse as you listened to Wanda whimper and try to hold herself together until you gave her permission to come. Your hand groped her breast again. “You’re so needy for daddy’s cock, hm? You’re making such a fucking mess, Wanda.”

“Y/N…” Wanda whispered, her arm reaching back to grab at the edge of your shirt. “Please let me come. Please.” You kept your chest pressed against her upper back, allowing her to meet your eyes when she turned her head to plead.

“Come all over daddy’s cock, baby, come on,” you permitted. “I love to see you all desperate for me. Let me see you come, Wanda.”

Wanda ground her ass back against your hips, burying your cock deep within her pussy as she came around you, walls gripping at your twitching cock. You felt her pulsate around you as she grasped desperately behind her, searching for your hand.

You interlaced your fingers with hers and kissed her lips as you came to your own hilt, emptying yourself inside of her and letting her feel your warm cum fill her up to the brim until you could feel yourself dripping out from the sides of her cunt.

Weakly, you continued thrusting into her, fucking your cum deep inside of her as Wanda whimpered, sensitive and still pulsing around you as she felt your sticky warmth shoot up inside of her.

“Oh… I love when you come inside of me, Y/N,” she breathed out, satisfied and tired as she let go of your hand and used both to balance herself against the counter as she slumped forward.

You grinned at her and kissed the back of her neck as you pulled her underwear up first, giving her sensitive cunt a quick swipe through her panties, telling her to keep your cum in for as long as she could. Then you did her pants back up and did the same for yourself.

The rest of the cheesecake decorating went relatively fast after Wanda quickly cleaned herself up in her kitchen window reflection.

Actually, neither of you had ever decorated a cheesecake so fast considering you decided to go a bit overboard with some whipped cream to make up for how long you both took — it would’ve made far more sense to come out with a more intricately decorated cake. It was a decently-sized cake, just enough for four people to enjoy, so it didn’t take as long as it would’ve if it were sized regularly.

“Oh, we were so worried you might’ve needed help with the dessert,” Virginia said the moment the both of you stepped into the dining room, Wanda with the cake in hand and you with the plates and silverware.

“We’re so sorry,” Wanda apologised. “One of us set the cake lopsided in the fridge and it came out a bit kooky, so we had to reshape it and all. And then the organising of the fruit and—” She waved her hand dismissively as she set the cake down. “Well, it’s all finished now.”

You set the plates down for everyone along with their respective knives and forks. “We hope you didn’t have to wait too long,” you told them apologetically.

Aside from how your initial impression as a couple spiked Virginia and Vision’s interest in wanting to sleep with both you and Wanda, the meal thus far must’ve paid off, for they really didn’t seem irritated at all after waiting for dessert.

And they did end up enjoying the cake too.

Except for Wanda, however, who seemed to be rather distracted with something else. You watched as she kept readjusting herself in her seat, her thighs squeezing together every so often and taking sips of her wine just to fidget with the handle of the glass.

You were rather eager to fuck your wife in the bedroom too after dinner, but before that, to see how much of your cum had leaked out of her.

By the looks of it, she had failed to hold much of it in.

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