#and i called them in on friday so it could just be that they're not like. u know.

[writhyv]

⋆｡°✩ your idol gives you his number

I-800-LOVE-YOU | nishimura riki x male!reader

pairing: niki x male!reader

genre: fluff (not sure if wholesome but def not angst 😂)

word count: 1.8k

notes: first work ever here LOL! i do describe things a lot, but sometimes I just skip and go~ also pls forgive the writing errors, my englishing isn't english enough 🖐😭

There's only so much a fan could get to experience, but there's an unhealthy amount of delusion if you think a random number written by your idol on your wrist means anything at all. Give it a call?

It wasn't a typical day, given that it wasn't really a typical week either.

Last Tuesday, you're friend introduced you to a new k-pop group called ENHYPEN. Wednesday, you tried to browse their discography and learned that even though they we're a new group, they had such a lot of content out already for you to binge. Thursday, the finalization for your work in South Korea just got settled. Being a teacher wouldn't be so bad, and you're lucky you've befriended your bestest most reliable and quirky bestfriend that offered to take you in while you earned for a living.

Friday, you settled your tickets, and come Saturday you've boarded, landed and arrived at Seoul safe and sound. Sunday was a fun day out, with your bestfriend taking you to various places to get familiar with, and having the best meals while you still have the time to spare. Monday came and your friend just told you the loudest announcement you've ever heard since gaining stable consciousness from your flight jetlag.

"I GOT THE FANMEET TICKETS!!"

"Fanmeet?" You jolted in surprise. You were familiar with how k-pop works, but you've only ever supported one group.  You've never even been in a concert, so this was a shocker to still hear upclose.

"Which group was it again?" You asked.

"Enhypen!! I'm going to see Jungwonnie!! AAAA!!!" Your bestfriend shrieked happily as she ran fast towards her room. It seemed like couldn't really hide her happiness, and that you were glad for her.

A sudden creak of the door prompts you to turn around again.

"Oh, and you're coming too! Get ready!"

What's that? A surprised look on your face? Yes, yes it is. Your jaw might drop so you better get your hands and put it back in place. You don't even fully know who these people are, and yet you feel ... Happy? Elated? It seemed like maybe fate had a big plan for you after all.

Tuesday — you sat on the comfortable plastic chair aligned beside the walls, waiting for a cue that seemingly got more longer as you waited and waited. You sighed, only looking from to side to side to find your bestfriend. She did say she was going for a quick break, but you really don't think '20' minutes count as 'quick'.

"Bestie, I'm here! Sorry, I had to retouch for a bit... I can't be looking all toasty and tired for my Wonnie! You agree right?"

Just as she arrives, the next line of fans are being called by the organizing staff, all by their names to enter the hall where the idols are.

Chills. Sweating. Nervousness. You couldn't even feel a single nerve as you entered the place. It was quite a comfortably quiet hall. There were atleast two more lines of avid fans, all kept between stanchions and more rows of stanchions. But nothing compares to the stage area to the furthest postion from where you stood. Lights were on and focused still for the seven gentlemen sat behind a large extended desk.

"Six ... Seven. Huh ... I guess they're also seven." You counted the members by head as they seemed so little and out of reach from your postion. Looking in, you start to see the appeal of these people to your friend and the fans around you. They seemed fresh, happy, and had an overall positive aura eminating from them even from afar. The line took yet another couple of minutes before finally you're in the best seat in the house, the front of these handsome young gentlemen.

"H-hello! I would love for you to sign this please-" You tried your best to present yourself as a long time fan. As awkward it may seem, you can't let it be embarassing for the both of you guys. You just had to make it seem casual because ONE, you might get cancelled for being fake and TWO, it just feels awkward to have a chance fo meet an idol who probably had a better supporter than you who doesn't even have a bias yet.

Heeseung looked at you funnily, seemingly knowing what's going through your head. "You gotta commit to the bit. Not a lot of fans get the chance, mhm?" His smile blinded your eyes a bit... is it possible to hide a star inside the roof of your mouth?

"S-sorry ... Nerves... And stuff..." You spoke a little too good about your condition. Too good that Jay turned his head hearing your voice.

"You sound good with your Korean! Really natural." He said as you move forward in front of him.

"Thank you! Trying my best to get the hang of it." You smiled as you exchanged glances and laugh with Jay. You really did your best to smile and act courteous to the idols. They seemed like a good bunch, so you had to express your gratitude for them representing those fans that are definitely much better suited for this that you.

While you take your time to chat with the other members, one particular boy kept looking your way.

"No way that's natural." Ni-ki spoke.

Jungwon turned his head towards the younger one, who kept glancing at the same spot for minutes now.

"Aish, you can't just say that. Besides, that hair color suits them no?"

Ni-ki sighs. Jungwon points his brow in interest.

"What?" The older boy said.

"Hyung, he's too pretty to be here. I'll loose my job."

Jungwon burst out laughing as Ni-ki spun a nice joke out of nowhere. "You can't be serious. He's just a fanboy. And what do we do with Engenes? We appreciate them, not get scared because they look too good." Jungwon then looked back again. "Then again, he does look good."

But the young boy never meant that he was scared, but he was just really mesmerized. He can't seem to put any words in his head somehow, yet when he looks at this one specific guy, a warm spot in the pit of his stomach started to wrap his body in familiarity. He just seems comfortable, seeing such a pretty sight.

Sunoo then tried to butt in to the conversation. "He's the first fanboy this fanmeet today. Extremely rare. Usually they're four or five."

"We'd be lucky to have that, the staff barely accomodates fanboys during fanmeets." Jungwon smirked as he turned his chair towards the other. "Were you desperately looking for male Engenes?"

"Ugh! No. I was just- you know what. I'll be busy. Hi there-* Sunoo smiles as he tended to the next Engene in line.

A couple of minutes later, you were already at the last gentleman. Standing right across you is Ni-ki, the group's youngest member. He stares at you quite long, enough to warrant a tap from his manager to speed it up.

"Hi..." You tried to sound confident, yet it doesn't seem to work when you say it outloud. Might as well bury yourself in the ground no?

"Sorry." Niki shrugged as he leaned forward from his seat.

"Huh?"

"With the way I kept staring at you? You just seem so good looking. I mean, I have to be honest." Ni-ki smiled as he tried his best to be 'cool' around you. He doesn't want his idol image tarnished, so he probably thought the best way to show his appreciation is to act nonchalantly. Of course, his older members beside him can only snicker.

"Ah? I... Thank you I guess." You shyly try to brush your bangs off your face from embarrassment. Ni-ki smiled as it seemed he found a way to fluster you, while you try and sit properly and take the compliment slowly and surely like a hard pill.

"So ... Want me to sign that for you?" Ni-ki asked gently. You snap out of your quick trance and gathered your self, retreiving the album from your lap that already received six fine signatures.

"H-here!" You almost shouted, making Ni-ki shoot his eyes wide at you and chuckle a bit. He looked cute while doing that, you thought. As you tried to pass the album on top of the desk, his hands graze yours. It was as if there was a slight electric pull that got you hot and bothered. Ni-ki can only look at the spot on his hand were you touched.

"Got warm hands huh?" Ni-ki slapped himself for such a dumb comment, yet it is true. The moment his hands grazed yours by accident, it was as if he's instantly charmed by you. Its impossible it's magic, but it did send some chills in his spine. Good chills. Lovingly sweet chills.

You tried to smile at his comment, but you couldn't even comprehend a word he said. You were just nervous as heck. But it paid off — you got to score a free fanmeeting from your bestfriend and now you were talking to seven handsome gentlemen, especially this mysterious seventh one.

After a quick write, Ni-ki passed on the album towards your direction. While handing it, he took his chance to finally hold your hand.

"Oh-" Right, this is normal. You've seen in other pictures out there than idols hold their fan's hands for a short second. It was just ... Too nerve-racking.

"You've got to let me see you again." Ni-ki's face was eager to wait for your response. It seems he was quickly mesmerized by your minimal yet warm presence today.

Thinking of an answer on top of your head, you can only blurt out honestly. "I'm afraid I don't really have that much money in me to buy another chance." Ni-ki and the other members by his side laughed discreetly.

"You don't need to worry. We'll wait for you!" Jungwon snuck himself to the conversation, with an adoring fan next to you smiling.

Does that mean he can't see him anymore? This young man's fascination has to just end like that? Ni-ki pondered quickly as he realized he might never get to see you again. After all, he knows the struggle of getting into this fanmeets and such.

He grabs your hand in a quick tug and places it to the side, the end of the extended desk where no one can really see what's being done.

"Wha-"

"Let me see you again."

You tilted your head. An idol wanting you to come back? And so desperately? It doesn't seem like an ill intention, perhaps just morbid curiosity? But of what kind?

"Uhm-"

"Here." Ni-ki brought out his marker and wrote a string of unfamiliar digits onto your bare arm.

"What's this?" You tilted your head.

"Can you call me soon? Promise I won't make you uncomfortable."

You quirked your eyebrow. Did this idol just, give you his number? You should be screaming right? Jumping for joy and rubbing it to everyone's faces?

"I'm just interested to know more about you." Ni-ki smiled this time, his eyes closing in like a wide smile across his features, showing genuine hope for a call.

"S-sure." You smiled back. It did seem genuine, and now your arm has been completely vandalized by an idol.

You look at the digits before getting a light tap from the security personnel behind you.

Ni-ki waved goodbye as you were guided down the stage. You looked at the set of digits to memorize them and then hid your arm with the written contact under your sleeves.  It must've been strange, but it sure wouldn't hurt to see where this leads, right?

Requests OPEN! I'm trying to fill up my new account with stories I just love to write so if you guys want something out there (esp. male! reader stories) lmk!

This was a blast and hooh I have not written in a while 🙈

[inkskinned]

the thing that gets you sometimes is the frustration. for every time someone else sees you being late, losing something, forgetting something important: there are hours in your day dedicated to it.

you have strange, fae-like rituals. the keys have to go in their special bowl, because if you forget even once, they will be gone forever. you stack items on a stool in front of your door so that you can't leave without touching them. you can't take your wallet out of your bag, ever, it will simply fade away.

everything has to be written down. everything, everything. whatever you need to do, you need to do it now. you check and re-check the busmap only to still get lost on the same route you've always taken home. you start getting ready to go 3 hours early and still end up 15 minutes late, unsure even of where the time has gone. don't sit down, there's something strange about your bed or the couch or the floor - once you sit down, you'll get stuck.

you are very used to operating without instructions. people say you're good at winging it but really you've never really known where the rules are coming from. you have to live in constant strange anticipation - when your brain does fail you, how can you predict every horrible outcome. maybe today you will have a minor curse, and forget to brush your teeth. or maybe today you will wake up - and no matter what you do, your whole body begs to return you back to sleep. maybe today you will break a glass and then just stand there, surrounded by the shards, frozen in place - because you need to go to the bathroom, but you also need to sweep.

and everyone else seems to have gotten the memo, and it's easy for them, and it never, ever gets easy for you. make plans and keep them. they roll their eyes when you say sorry it's too messy we can't go over to my apartment. they ask why did you leave something so big until the last minute. on instagram, your friend makes a reel where she says if they cared, they would change. they literally do not care. someone says it's a symptom, and in the comments, all they get is then go to therapy! it can't control everything you do!

so you go to therapy. and you work out to calm down and you do your self-care and you try to be grateful for the small things. and you structure literally your entire life around it, around the ways you can't live right. you have failsafe over failsafe over red flag. you have shelves of organizational manuals. you have alarms for things like did you remember to eat that you still manage to figure out how to snooze. you have time-blocked sites and deleted apps you get lost in and you are constantly trying. because you also want a life where you are not stepping over laundry. juggling knives, you spend your whole life feeling like you're ice skating.

and still. she sighs at you. i mean, it's just. i don't understand how you constantly miss all the small stuff. i mean, this is the easy part. you're just not trying hard enough.

[msfcatlover]

*points at Jean-Paul Valley* THE MOST DISAPPOINTING THING ABOUT THIS MAN IS THAT HE ISN'T CANONICALLY "The Normal One(TM)"

[cactusdodes]

.

[luetta]

idk if people on tumblr know about this but a cybersecurity software called crowdstrike just did what is probably the single biggest fuck up in any sector in the past 10 years. it's monumentally bad. literally the most horror-inducing nightmare scenario for a tech company.

some info, crowdstrike is essentially an antivirus software for enterprises. which means normal laypeople cant really get it, they're for businesses and organisations and important stuff.

so, on a friday evening (it of course wasnt friday everywhere but it was friday evening in oceania which is where it first started causing damage due to europe and na being asleep), crowdstrike pushed out an update to their windows users that caused a bug.

before i get into what the bug is, know that friday evening is the worst possible time to do this because people are going home. the weekend is starting. offices dont have people in them. this is just one of many perfectly placed failures in the rube goldburg machine of crowdstrike. there's a reason friday is called 'dont push to live friday' or more to the point 'dont fuck it up friday'

so, at 3pm at friday, an update comes rolling into crowdstrike users which is automatically implemented. this update immediately causes the computer to blue screen of death. very very bad. but it's not simply a 'you need to restart' crash, because the computer then gets stuck into a boot loop.

this is the worst possible thing because, in a boot loop state, a computer is never really able to get to a point where it can do anything. like download a fix. so there is nothing crowdstrike can do to remedy this death update anymore. it is now left to the end users.

it was pretty quickly identified what the problem was. you had to boot it in safe mode, and a very small file needed to be deleted. or you could just rename crowdstrike to something else so windows never attempts to use it.

it's a fairly easy fix in the grand scheme of things, but the issue is that it is effecting enterprises. which can have a looooot of computers. in many different locations. so an IT person would need to manually fix hundreds of computers, sometimes in whole other cities and perhaps even other countries if theyre big enough.

another fuck up crowdstrike did was they did not stagger the update, so they could catch any mistakes before they wrecked havoc. (and also how how HOW do you not catch this before deploying it. this isn't a code oopsie this is a complete failure of quality ensurance that probably permeates the whole company to not realise their update was an instant kill). they rolled it out to everyone of their clients in the world at the same time.

and this seems pretty hilarious on the surface. i was havin a good chuckle as eftpos went down in the store i was working at, chaos was definitely ensuring lmao. im in aus, and banking was literally down nationwide.

but then you start hearing about the entire country's planes being grounded because the airport's computers are bricked. and hospitals having no computers anymore. emergency call centres crashing. and you realised that, wow. crowdstrike just killed people probably. this is literally the worst thing possible for a company like this to do.

crowdstrike was kinda on the come up too, they were starting to become a big name in the tech world as a new face. but that has definitely vanished now. to fuck up at this many places, is almost extremely impressive. its hard to even think of a comparable fuckup.

a friday evening simultaneous rollout boot loop is a phrase that haunts IT people in their darkest hours. it's the monster that drags people down into the swamp. it's the big bag in the horror movie. it's the end of the road. and for crowdstrike, that reaper of souls just knocked on their doorstep.

[kuiinncedes]

ahdfgjh

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for sabotaging my boyfriend's hookup with his girlfriend by filling his sex playlist with DJ Crazytimes

I (28NB, they/he) have known my boyfriend (call him C, 29M, he/him) for some 15ish years now. As long as I've known him, he has been on and off again with his girlfriend (call him T, 29NB, he/him). Respectfully, and with love, C and T are two of the worst and most annoying people I know. I want to marry them both specifically so that I can study them under a microscope like a parasitic virus.

Technically they're monogamous, but they're both hooking up with other people (myself included), usually the same people, because they have the same taste in lovers (bad). I have suggested that they give actual polyamory a try, and they reject the idea wholeheartedly. I think they get off on their dynamic, and far be it from me to try more than the bare minimum to dissuade them from it.

A couple months back, they got into a fight and broke up (again) because T (who was unemployed at the time) stole $50 from C (who works at GameStop) so that he could pay for a tank of gas (using C's car) to go hook up with another guy a couple states over. C was not upset that T was hooking up with another guy (because he was Also hooking up with that guy and knew he would not have a leg to stand on), but because of the stolen money + car.

C and I currently live together, because you can't afford an apartment on a GameStop salary, and also, like I said, he's my boyfriend. I'm making carnitas tacos next Friday, and T is coming over, because despite everything, he has nothing else to do on a Friday night. I know that C and T are going to get into a huge fight, and I know that it's probably either going to end with them getting back together out of spite or with someone's vehicle getting keyed--I'm betting on both.

Here's where I think I might be the asshole. I would really like to get inbetween them. Not in a "I don't want you to date each other" kind of way, but in a "holy shit you are both so insufferable i would like to get in on that" kind of way. I currently have my thing with C, and I've hooked up with T once in the past, but I would really like to make it official with him as well.

My plan is as follows: C and T are going to be in the same space again next Friday. They're going to fight, then hook up, then get back together again. C is one of those cybersexual "i built my own computer and run it on Linux" people, which is to say, he thinks tiktok and youtube are evil, and he he thinks spotify premium is supporting megacorporations. So, his sex playlist for T (we do not have our own sex playlist) is just an actual folder of mp3 files.

While C is at work, I'm going to log into his computer and change several of those mp3 files to DJ Crazytimes' Planet of the Bass, which I play often, and he is frequently annoyed by. My hope is that he'll realize it was me, he'll come and yell at me for ruining their hookup, T will take my side to piss him off, and the tension will get to the point where they let me join their hookup, and I can ask to date both of them after that.

To be clear, I recognize that I'm also Incredibly Toxic for enabling and encouraging this behavior. That said, I feel like I'm justified in this scenario considering C and T are both Also toxic, and furthermore, it is a known fact that I'm dating C right now, so for them to hook up, C would technically be cheating on me. I asked C's sister (a childhood friend of mine) for her take on whether it would be funny or just annoying, and she just told me that we all deserve each other, so I think I should be good. Am I being uniquely shitty here?

What are these acronyms?

[sentient-stove]

"Oh my god he’s dead- we killed a vigilante, OHMYGODOHMYGOD—" A hysterical voice screeched out, decidedly feminine and loud enough that the comn line picked it up.

"He broke in here for no reason first! We have probable cause as to why you brained him with our wok!" The second interjected, calmer than the first, but there was still a line of tension, like they were uncertain about what they were saying.

"Oh my god, oh god we’re literally so dead Batman’s literally going to murder me and you and us and—"

"We're already mostly dead, he can't kill us. Although I thought he had a no killing rule anyways, so maybe we’re safe? Ancients, that is a lot of blood. You think we should call an ambulance?" Static filtered through the comn line before stabilizing again and wow. The residents of the apartment were really just having a full conversation over an unconscious Nightwing- in earshot of a microphone recording every word- like this was a normal occurrence. Maybe it was a normal Friday night for them, Barbara couldn't exactly judge.

"I'm not calling an ambulance, they might arrest him. Hell, they're probably gonna arrest us! Danny, we're fucking unresgistered metas in Gotham, I’m a clone—"

"—Not metas and I won’t let anyone arrest you—"

"—It's the same thing to the government at the end of the day. You're right though. I think I hit him too hard, we're going to lose the deposit with the amount of blood getting everywhere. Head wounds bleed a lot right? Maybe he's not dead."

"He's not dead, we'd know if he was."

"Oh. Right. Man. That is a lot of blood, our IKEA rug is ruined. I liked that rug, you think we could ask him to buy a new one when he wakes up or is he on the normal vigilante salary of nothing?"

“Mhm. I'll go get the med kit, you handcuff him to the table so he doesn't jump us when he wakes up. Keep the mask on- I don’t want to piss off whatever buddies he’s got listening in.”

[punkshort]

Just Friends

Thank you @brittmb115 for this prompt!

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Accompanying your friend Javier to his holiday work party seemed simple enough until it gets a little too hard to just pretend to be dating.

Warnings: language, fake dating, one bed trope, sexual tension, jealousy, flirting, cigarette use, alcohol use, friends to lovers, reader has insecurities about her looks, fingering, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex

WC: 6.4K

dividers by @saradika-graphics

"Please, cariño, it's just one night. The party's at a casino about two hours outside the city. The DEA paid for hotel rooms 'cause they're worried about people drinking and driving. We'll be back by noon on Saturday, you'll still have your whole weekend to mope around over Travis," Javi begged as he followed you around your kitchen.

"Trent," you corrected with a glare over your shoulder. Javi just waved you off.

"Yeah, whatever. His name doesn't matter anymore, now does it?" he countered with an arched brow. You frowned and continued to put your dishes away.

Javier was right - Trent's name didn't matter anymore. Not after he dumped you out of the blue, two weeks before Christmas. He probably didn't want to buy you a gift, Javier had said when you called him up crying. It wasn't exactly the most comforting thing to hear, but at least he made you laugh.

"And why is it you don't want to attend this event by yourself? I thought you would have wanted to take some poor secretary back to your room for the evening," you said, flipping the dishwasher closed before playfully adding, "This better not be some sick move to try to get into my pants again." Javi pulled out his carton of cigarettes and began to anxiously tap it against his palm. When you whisked by, you smacked it out of his hand with a warning: do not smoke in my house.

"You've made it very clear I won't be touching your pants, hermosa," he chuckled, recalling a handful of failed attempts to get you into bed before giving up entirely. "But, uh, I've been taking one too many secretaries home lately," Javi admitted with a lopsided grin. "Got one real pissed at me for not calling her back. Had to make up a lie that I had gotten back together with an ex, so..."

Your jaw dropped and you stared daggers at him with your hands on your hips.

"So not only are you asking me to go with you to this party, but I'm supposed to pretend we're dating?" you clarified, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. When he nodded sheepishly, you tossed your hands in the hair and began to curse under your breath.

"Oh, come on! It won't be that bad! It's not like she's gonna say anything. It's just for looks. Hell, you never know. Maybe you'll meet someone at this thing. I could be doing you the favor of a lifetime," he said before hopping up to sit on your kitchen island. You smacked his knee when you walked past and he grinned.

"I have barstools, you know."

"Yeah, but I like it up here. Better view," he winked and jutted his chin towards your v-neck shirt.

"Gross," you scowled, making him laugh. He took a handful of nuts from the bowl on your counter and shook them in his hand like dice.

"So? What's it gonna be? You in?"

You watched him tip his head back, pouring some peanuts in his mouth, and you sighed. What the hell. You didn't have anything better to do.

"Fine."

Javier jumped off the counter excitedly. "Thank you! I owe you one!" he exclaimed before heading for your door. "I gotta run. I'll pick you up around noon on Friday. And, hey - bring a dress. The party is a little formal."

You rolled your eyes and groaned, then shooed him out your door. "Thanks. Now I have to figure out a damn outfit."

"You're the best!" he shouted happily from his car. You shut your door and turned around to sag against the wood, finally surrounded with silence. Something you thought you were craving until you had it, and then suddenly you realized you had never felt more alone in your life.

"Where the hell is this place?" you asked, staring out the passenger seat of Javier's jeep. It felt like the car kept climbing higher and higher, and the way your ears were popping, you were thinking your hunch was right.

"It's a hotel slash casino up in the hills," he said with a nod towards the open, winding road. "Supposed to have a hell of a view."

"Yeah, guess so," you muttered, then gasped when a clearing came into view and you saw just how high up you really were. "Oh, my god! Javi - look!"

"I'm driving, cariño," he reminded you with a smirk, but his eyes still flickered quickly over the ridge.

"Wow," you said breathlessly. The view was spectacular. Miles and miles of hills and trees surrounded a sprawling hotel/casino. If you were closer to the edge, you would be able to see a lazy river snaking around the bottom of the mountain.

"Alright. So what's the story?" you asked when you settled back in your seat. There was still a ways to go until you reached the casino, but you could see it from the road nestled into the landscape.

"What story?"

"Our story," you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You told a girl you got back together with an ex. So, why did we originally break up?"

"Oh," Javi said, scratching his chin. "I don't know. You really think it matters?"

"Maybe. Who knows? Probably a good idea we at least talk about it," you shrugged.

Javi thought about it for a minute before snapping his fingers. "You wanted marriage and I didn't."

You made a face and shook your head.

"That would imply we're on the path to getting engaged. You really think you can fake a whole marriage because you pissed off a girl at work?"

"Yeah, good point," he mumbled before falling quiet to think about it some more. After a few minutes, he came up with another idea. "How about you were gonna move away for a job and we didn't want to do long distance, but the job fell through and you stayed?"

You nodded slowly, rolling the idea around in your head.

"Yeah, that's good. That'll work. Then one day to explain why you're single again, you can say I got another job offer out of state or something."

"Exactly."

"Alright. Easy enough," you hummed, then turned to gaze out your window again. Javi watched you for a few minutes out of the corner of his eye, his jaw working back and forth while he tried to come up with the right words to express his gratitude.

"Hey, uh," he said, clearing his throat. You turned to look at him expectantly. "I just wanna thank you again. I know you're going through a tough time and all that-"

"Don't mention it," you said dismissively. "It's not a big deal. Plenty of guys out there, right?"

Javi gave you a tight smile. "Yeah. Sure."

One thing that you didn't have a chance to fully think through was the sleeping situation. As Javi checked you in and you heard the girl at the front desk confirm one king sized bed, you felt yourself stiffen. He signed and grabbed the keys, then shot you a warm smile before gesturing towards the elevators. From the looks of it, Javier didn't mind one bit. Then, of course, it was Javier...

"No funny business," you declared when you entered your room and Javier flopped down tiredly on the huge bed. "You stick to your side, I'll stick to mine."

"Whatever you say, cariño," he replied with his eyes closed. "I'll be reminding you of that later tonight when you're all over me after a few drinks."

"That was one time and I told you I was sorry!" you exclaimed, cheeks burning from the memory.

Your relationship in the past with Javier was... complicated. When you first met, it felt like you kept seeking each other out at all the worst times. Whenever you made a move, he was unavailable, and vice versa. Eventually, you had decided to just be friends and left it at that. And it worked well. You had an easy relationship where it felt effortless and natural to go to the other with some exciting news, and sought a shoulder to cry on if something bad happened. It just seemed to work better without the romantic element.

All of that aside, at the crux of the issue was you were a romantic, through and through. You liked being in long term relationships. You enjoyed the comfort and peace it brought. Javier, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. You couldn't even remember the last time he brought the same girl out for drinks more than once and you had a suspicion he had never been in love.

"I'm just messing with you. Can't help it, I like when you're all flustered," Javi said before sitting up with a groan. When he stretched, you found your eyes drifting down to where his shirt rode up, revealing a small sliver of bronzed skin. You swallowed and forced yourself to look away because no matter how many times you reminded yourself it would never work between you, it didn't stop you from being unbearably attracted to him.

It was the confidence that he exuded. That was what you had finally decided was the thing that kept you drawn to him in a decidedly less-than-friendly way. But of course, you were quick to remember you weren't the only one who was attracted to his charm. Half the women in the city noticed it, too. You had just gotten very good at hiding it.

"What time's the party start?" you asked, hauling your duffel bag onto the bed so you could begin to unpack your toiletries. The first thing you did was take out the dark red slinky dress you bought so you could steam out the wrinkles with the iron packed away in the coat closet. What you didn't notice was the way Javier's eyes greedily locked onto the fabric while you moved around the room.

"Uh..." he murmured, his pulse quickening when he saw the plunging neckline of your dress. "That new?"

You furrowed your brow and turned around. "Yeah. I didn't exactly have anything suitable so I went shopping. Why? You don't like it?"

"No, no... it's perfect," he assured you. Javier blinked a few times, snapping himself out of it, and looked at you. "Very... festive."

You grinned and hung up the dress on the back of the bathroom door. "Thanks. I thought so, too. So... the party? What time?"

"Oh, right. Cocktail hour starts at five, dinner's at seven then dancing or whatever til who knows when."

You glanced at your watch and made a face after you did a quick pass with the iron.

"I better get in the shower, then," you said, grabbing your things. Javier leaned back onto the headboard and flicked on the television with the ease of a man who didn't intend on putting in much work on his appearance for evening. However, once you finished your hair and makeup and stepped out of the bathroom in that damn dress, he suddenly felt like he should have tried a little harder.

"Maybe I should put something in my hair," he muttered, his fingers flicking through the dark locks as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. You appeared in the doorway of the bathroom looking way too fucking attractive to be his date, let alone masquerading as his girlfriend. Your brows pinched together as you looked at his hair and it took every last ounce of willpower not to let his eyes fall to your cleavage in that tight dress.

"I think your hair looks good," you said. When you reached up to fix a stray piece of his hair, he cleared his throat and twisted away.

"Alright, let's get this thing over with," he mumbled as he slid past you and headed towards the door.

"What's got you so grumpy?"

"Nothing. Just need a drink and a smoke."

"You're gonna abandon me with a bunch of DEA agents to go smoke for ten minutes?" you whined, following him out of your hotel room towards the elevators.

"You could always join me. You'd look like Bette Davis smoking a cigarette and wearing that dress," he replied when you both stepped inside the elevator. He tapped the lobby button and grinned down at you.

"You and Bette Davis," you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"What? She made smoking look so damn cool."

"Yeah, well, I think I'm going to pass," you told him. "I'll get a drink and mingle. Maybe find one of the girls you pissed off and have a cat fight."

Javi chuckled and shook his head. "That's a long list, baby. Shouldn't be too hard."

When the elevator doors slid open, you could hear the music thumping from the ballroom and laughter echoing off the walls.

"Sounds like they didn't waste any time," you said to Javier.

"Are you kidding? When the government gives you an open bar, you fucking milk it," he replied before taking one step towards the front doors. "You sure you're good for a few?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," you said, waving him off. He nodded and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Before he even made it to the door, he slipped one in between his lips.

The ballroom was pretty full already, Javi was right: when government employees have a chance to let loose, they jump at the opportunity. The entire room was decorated in Christmas lights, garland, and at least five different trees. The DJ was cycling through a mix of Christmas carols, pop music, and classic rock. Some people already shaking their hips on the dance floor with drinks in their hands. You spotted two different bars set up, so you made your way to the nearest one and ordered a white wine. As you waited, you bopped your head along to the beat of Last Christmas while mindlessly scrolling on your phone.

"Jack Daniels, neat," a man's deep voice said from beside you when the bartender placed your wine glass on a coaster. You thanked him and slid a few dollars across the bar before taking a sip.

"Excuse me... have we met?"

You turned to look at your neighbor and slowly shook your head. He was cute. Blonde hair parted to one side, mustache, lean but strong physique and sparkling blue eyes.

"No, we haven't," you said before offering your hand and name.

"Steve," he grinned, giving your hand a firm shake before accepting his drink with a nod and a couple bucks in the tip jar. "What department do you work in?"

"Oh, I don't work for the DEA, I'm here with someone," you said, leaning closer. You watched his face fall when you implied you weren't single and you pursed your lips. How the hell would Javi expect you to meet anyone when you had to pretend to be his girlfriend?

"I mean, just a friend. A good friend," you added, praying you didn't blow Javi's cover the first time you opened your mouth. "Uh, what do you do?"

"I'm an agent," he told you, chest puffing with pride. "Takin' down drug rings one scumbag at a time."

"Wow. That's so impressive," you gushed. You saw the way his cheeks flushed a bit and preened when he glanced down at your chest. "That must be so hard. What's your favorite part about the job?"

"Goin' to the Christmas party and meeting beautiful women like you," he shot back smoothly, making you giggle and toss your hair flirtatiously over your shoulder. Steve's gaze dragged up and down your dress appreciatively before adding, "I mean it. You look stunning. Should've known someone like you didn't work for the DEA."

"Oh, stop," you giggled, feeling your face warm from his compliment.

"Where are you sitting? Maybe I can convince you to dance after dinner? Now fair warning, I got two left feet, but I got a feeling no one's gonna be lookin' at me," Steve grinned, taking a step closer and grazing his thumb along your bare arm.

"Hmm, that sounds-"

"Murphy."

You both twisted around to find Javier storming across the room. And storming was really the only word for it. His fists were clenched and his jaw pulled tight like he was about to take a swing at Steve.

"Javi," you greeted him sweetly with a smile. At the same time, Steve said, "Peña."

"What's going on here?" he asked, sidling up so he could wedge himself between you and Steve.

"Nothing. Steve and I were just talking," you said innocently.

"Looked like more than that," Javier huffed. His tone and the serious look on his face made you falter. Did you do something wrong?

"Well-"

"I was just asking her for a dance after dinner. Relax, Jav," Steve joked with a playful punch to his shoulder. When Javi remained stoic and unmoving at your side, the smile slowly slipped from Steve's face.

"Oh, shit. Sorry. I thought you were just friends."

"We are," you said quickly, but Steve was already backing away.

"Enjoy your night! It was lovely to meet you," Steve said with a wink before disappearing into the crowd. You swiveled on your heel to glare at Javi.

"Why didn't you correct him?" you seethed.

Javi just shrugged, his relaxed demeanor slipping back in place, and leaned up against the bar to flag down a bartender. "You can do better than Steve."

"Who are you to say?" you argued back after he ordered a whiskey. "We were clicking! And he's cute, why-"

"'Cause I don't want you fucking my partner, hermosa, that's why," Javi snapped. Your eyes widened and you clamped your mouth shut for a moment.

"He's your partner? Why didn't you ever introduce us before? He's-"

"C'mon, let's go find the appetizers or something," he said after snatching his glass from the bar top. It was very evident you wouldn't be getting any more information out of Javier so you decided to drop the subject. But as the happy hour inched along with your third drink in your hand and Javi's arm finding a permanent home around your waist as he introduced you to his coworkers, your mind kept drifting back to that hardened look he had given you and Steve. The butterflies in your stomach churned to life every time you thought about it, your memory twisting things so you could pretend he was jealous over you flirting with another man. It wasn't that hard to imagine, really. He could hardly keep himself from touching either your waist or lower back or grabbing your hand. It fed the little fantasy in your head, deluding yourself into thinking he was subtly trying to claim you in front of the whole party, warning others to stay away.

You had given up reminding yourself that the fake relationship schtick was just an act by the end of dinner. It was too nice to pretend otherwise.

Javi had been wrapped up in a long winded conversation with the man seated on the other side of him, but your heart was fluttering the whole time because from the moment he set his silverware down, his hand hadn't once left your leg.

With a dreamy smile plastered across your face, your eyes casually drifted around the room. People were already beginning to dance but many still remained at their dinner tables chatting. You had been quietly admiring the artwork on the walls and sipping from your glass when you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It was hard to explain, but you just felt like someone was staring at you. Doing your best to be subtle, you shifted in your seat and let your gaze wander around the room again until you found the source.

There was a table to your left, half of which was empty, but five young women remained staring in your direction. Some had drinks dangling from their fingers, one had a scowl and another was leaning in to whisper something in her ear.

There was no question one of the girls must have been one of Javi's scorned lovers. If not all of them. Your heart sunk a little when you saw how beautiful they were and you forced yourself to look away.

Javier was handsome, he had charm, and he was funny. A lethal combination that managed to get him in bed with some extremely drop dead gorgeous women. It was then you felt your insecurities flare up. How could anyone buy you were a couple when he was used to having girls like that on his arm?

With Javier still talking, you stood up from your chair, suddenly feeling flustered and overwhelmed.

He stopped speaking mid sentence to look up and ask, "Where are you going?"

"Uh," you glanced around and swallowed nervously. "I think I just need some fresh air. I'll be right back."

"I'll go with you," he said, immediately standing. "I'll catch up with you later, Jim," Javi added over his shoulder before hurrying to catch up with you. When his palm pressed against your back, your feet automatically slowed.

"What's going on? Drink too much?"

"No. Well, maybe. I don't know," you rambled, eyes scanning for the exit. "I just feel like I don't fit in here."

"What? Why?" he asked, grabbing your arm and spinning you around. His face was filled with concern as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "You're doing great, cariño. I thought you were having fun."

"I was. I am," you stammered, and then your gaze landed on the table of girls, most of which had moved on to something else.

Before you could tear your eyes away, Javier noticed where you were looking and sighed.

"Yeah, sorry. I told you, I pissed off a woman or two here."

"It's not that," you mumbled, now staring down at the floor.

"Then what is it?"

You felt your cheeks flush and you couldn't look him in the eye when you finally admitted, "They're really pretty, Javi."

He just scoffed and took your hand in his.

"You're prettier."

You laughed lightly and shook your head. "Yeah, right. It's a good thing there's an open bar. Otherwise, I'm not sure people would believe we're together when you're usually seen with girls like that."

"Hey," Javi said softly. He hooked a finger under your chin and tilted it up so you would look at him. "Don't say that. You look better than anyone else here. If you weren't already, I'd be trying to get you up to my room right now," he said with a smirk. You giggled a little and sighed.

"Sorry. I guess I just had a moment or something," you said, breathing deep. Javi looked around the room and noticed how the dance floor was beginning to fill up.

"Wanna dance?"

You smiled and pulled your lower lip between your teeth as you watched others having fun on the dance floor. Without waiting for your answer, Javi tugged your hand and tilted his head, urging you to follow him. "C'mon, don't leave me hanging."

You laughed and let him lead you to the dance floor, weaving through the throngs of people until he found a little wiggle room, but right when he turned back to look at you with a big, goofy smile, the fast tempo switched to a much slower ballad. Javi cocked an eyebrow at you and extended a hand, unphased.

With a smile of your own, you took his hand and let him pull you in close. His fingers laced together with yours while his other arm wrapped around your middle and your free hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"Hey, you can dance," he teased when you fell into rhythm with him effortlessly.

"Of course I can dance," you said, rolling your eyes. Being that close to him, you could smell his aftershave, the whiskey on his breath, and a faint hint of cigarette smoke from earlier. The smell you had unknowingly grown to love. The smell that was, simply put, Javier.

You gazed up at him, smiling at the little pink tinting his cheeks and the glassy look in his eye. He looked so fucking adorable it almost pained you.

"Can I ask you something, Javi?" you asked quietly. His eyes softened at your tone and he nodded. "Why were you so mad earlier when I was talking to Steve? Really?"

The corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes flickered somewhere behind you as he considered his answer.

"I think you know why."

When he looked back down at you, the playfulness was gone. His eyes carried something else in them. Something he couldn't bring himself to say. Then your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat when you saw it. The look you had been aching to see from him for years. The same look you were giving him at the very same time.

And then it hit you. Yeah, you knew why.

It turned out Javier was much more popular at work than you ever expected. You had spent the rest of your dance trying to come up with the right thing to say, but you panicked and lost your chance when Javier's boss nudged his shoulder while dancing with his wife. The four of you fell into a conversation - the men about work, you and his boss's wife about Christmas bargains - in the middle of the dance floor. When you realized you were in the way, the conversation moved to the bar. After that, an investigator joined in the conversation with her girlfriend and before you knew it, it was nearly midnight and the moment you had with Javi on the dance floor was long forgotten.

Or so you thought.

It had been a long night. You were exhausted and your feet ached from the new shoes you picked out to match your dress. You had hoped to possibly find an opening and talk to Javi about what you thought he implied during your dance, but while you were waiting for him to wash up, you passed out cold.

One thing you knew for certain was you were on your side of the bed when you fell asleep. You knew that because your side faced the bathroom and you had rolled over to wait for Javi before you fell asleep. However, you couldn't explain why you woke up around three in the morning with your cheek resting on his shoulder and your arm wrapped around his waist.

Well, maybe you could explain it. It was probably your subconscious trying to seek him out after spending the evening being so close to him. No matter the reason, you knew you had to sneak back to your side of the bed before he woke up, so you slowly began to extract your arm.

"Where're you goin'?" Javi murmured sleepily. Your eyes widened and your heart began to race.

"Nowhere, just go back to sleep," you whispered, pulling your arm away. Just as you were about to roll over, Javi's hand shot out to grab your wrist. You froze, cheek still pressed against his shoulder, and slowly lifted your eyes up to meet his.

It was hard to see in the dark, but from what you could tell, he was wide awake. His dark brown eyes continued to study your face while you fumbled for words.

"Javi?" you said, voice sounding so small in the quiet room. His eyes flickered anxiously between yours for another moment before he came to his decision. In one quick movement, he had rolled you onto your back, his hips fitting perfectly between your legs as he caged you in.

"Javi," you said again, although this time sounding far more breathless and aroused than you intended.

He swallowed tightly, gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips before he whispered, "Do you feel it too, cariño?"

You shifted underneath him, eyelids fluttering when you felt his arousal pressing up against the inside of your thigh.

"Yes," you whispered back.

His mouth crashed against yours in an instant. It was rougher than you expected it to be but you didn't mind. You understood because you felt it, too. All that time wasted, dancing around something that was right in front of you the entire time. It was bound to drive anyone a little crazy, a little hungry.

Before you knew it, your fingers were in his hair, dragging down his shoulders, and then tugging at his shirt, and all the while his mouth remained cemented against yours. He had to pull away to yank his white tshirt over his head and you heard yourself make a pathetic little noise, like you couldn't possibly survive without his kiss, not even for one second.

"Take this off," he panted, lifting your oversized shirt halfway up your torso. You didn't need to be told twice. You flung it off and pulled Javier back down before he even had a chance to take a good look at your bare chest.

Everything was moving so fast but given the amount of time it took you to get there, it felt like a fucking eternity. He expertly tugged your shorts and underwear off while your tongues fought for dominance in each other's mouths. It wasn't even until you felt his fingers brush against your cunt that you realized you were entirely undressed.

"Oh, god... Javi!" you cried out brokenly when he slipped two fingers inside of you.

His mouth fell to your chin and he made a strangled sound, curling his fingers when he said, "Fuck, baby, when you say my name like that..."

His hand maintained a steady rhythm between your legs, reaching for that spot that made your back curl off the bed every time he thrusted inside. His other hand got lost in your hair, tipping your face so he could feverishly lock his lips with yours while dragging your first orgasm to the surface with a few circles over your sensitive clit.

"Javi! Wait... I'm gonna - I'm gonna come -" you gasped, unable to stop your hips from rolling up and meeting his hand.

"Go ahead, hermosa. I got you."

"No," you whimpered, muscles going tense. You were getting to the point of no return and you needed to stop him. "I wanna - I want you to fuck me, Javi. I - I wanna -"

Your head fell back into the pillow, unable to complete your sentence.

"I am. I'm gonna fuck you," he assured you, lips ghosting the shell of your ear and wrist snapping faster between your thighs. "I'll make you come on my cock, don't worry, baby. Just let go, c'mon, you can do that for me, right?"

"Oh, fuck," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck, fuck, fu- yes, Javi, yes! More... please-"

"Christ, cariño, you're gonna wake the whole fucking hotel," he chuckled, but you were too far gone to care. You tilted your chin to the ceiling, his name echoing off the walls as you came. It felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest, like your legs were so weak you may never walk again, yet somehow it wasn't enough. Not for either of you. In fact, it only seemed to make you each more desperate.

Your kisses on his skin became messy, both of you so eager to have the other that there was no room to worry about being too fast or abrasive. Your teeth clashed together when your arm curved around his neck, yanking him down to your level. Your shared hot breaths mingled with each pant and gasp. When you reached down to wrap your fingers around the heavy weight of his cock, he moaned into your open mouth and slid his fingers from your pussy so you could line him up with your entrance, neither of you in any mood to wait a second longer.

"Fu-uck," he groaned when he pushed inside of you, burying himself to the hilt in one go. You gasped and sharply bit down on his shoulder when tears sprung up and threatened to spill down your cheeks.

"You okay?" he panted, planting weak kisses against the side of your face. All you could do was nod. He filled you and stretched you so perfectly that it took your breath away and left you speechless. He nodded, too, lips parted as he puffed for air, then began to rock his hips. Slow at first, then steady and deep.

"Javi," you moaned in his ear, sending a shiver through his body. "Shit, just like that. Oh my god, Javi, just like that!"

Javier smirked into your shoulder, fucking you with deep, long strokes as you continued to fill the room with your cries and moans.

"Never thought you'd be so goddamn loud, baby," he teased, nipping playfully at your shoulder.

"Sorry," you whined into the air. Your jaw was clenched tight, fingers clawing uselessly at his broad shoulders while he continued to pump in and out a little bit harder, a little bit faster, setting loose one of the tears that welled up in your eyes.

"Don't be sorry, I fucking love it," he groaned. He lifted himself up so he could watch your face contort with each devastating thrust. "Fucking love how you say my name. Dreamed about it for so long, you have no idea-"

"Me, too," you moaned, a second tear trickling down your cheek. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him tightly as he began to fuck you faster. His eyes flickered down to your bare chest, breasts bouncing from the force of his thrusts. Craning his neck down, he latched onto one with a groan, teeth grazing enticingly over your nipple before sucking the other one into his mouth.

"God, you're so perfect," he mumbled into the space between your breasts. "So fucking perfect, hermosa. Drove me fucking crazy all night."

Your heart stuttered before grabbing the sides of his head and pulling him up for a deep kiss. Every time he slammed inside of you, it had you seeing stars. You felt completely at his mercy, unable to think about anything else except him, him, him.

"Tell me you want more," he demanded, pulling away from your kiss so he could look you in the eye. His eyes were blown wide with lust and a few dark hairs were beginning to stick to his forehead, the image so captivating that he had you nodding dumbly to his request.

"Yes, Javi, please," you moaned, "more, please, fuck me-"

"No, I mean-"

His hips slowed and he cupped your face, chest heaving and lips parted for air as he stared down at you imploringly. "I mean, tell me you want more than just tonight. Tell me there's something else here."

You blinked rapidly and nodded, stunned he would even have to ask when you had always been the one to prefer relationships. Hardly trusting yourself to speak, you whispered, "Yeah. I want more than just tonight. I want more than just this."

A smile stretched across his face right before he lunged down to capture your lips with his own. His hips resumed their pace, snapping steadily into you and pushing you higher and higher until you stiffened and cried out his name.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, shit," he muttered, hips stuttering against you, his name still tumbling from your mouth as the last of your orgasm rippled through your body. "Baby - look at me," he begged, and it wasn't until that moment you realized your eyelids had even shut.

Tiredly, you opened your eyes to gaze up at him. The way he was looking at you caused a lump to form in your throat and you had to suppress a shiver. It was too intense all of the sudden, the air thickening between you in a matter of seconds.

"Come for me, Javi," you murmured lowly. You brought a shaky hand up to card through his damp hair, watching as his eyebrows pinched and his chin dropped, pulling out of you quickly and sitting back on his heels to fist his cock. Your hand fell back to the cool sheets beside you, unable to look away. He was hunched above you, one fist pressed into the mattress and the other jerking himself off until he stilled with a deep groan, painting your stomach with his sticky release. You couldn't even let yourself blink, doing your best to commit every detail to memory until he collapsed next to you with a heavy sigh.

"Fucking Christ," he grumbled, forearm tossed over his eyes. You giggled, face warming when you heard how raspy you sounded. Javier removed his arm and turned his head to look at you with a lopsided grin.

"You're a screamer, hermosa."

"Javi!" you cried out softly, but your broken voice only further proved his argument. He chuckled and rolled onto his side to push some hair away from your eyes.

"I was expecting a phone call from the front desk ten minutes ago."

"Shut up, Javi!" you whined, covering your face with your palms.

"Don't be embarrassed, baby, I love it," he said while pulling your hands away. You bit your lip and peered up at him, searching his face for any sign of regret and finding none. Then his face softened and he swallowed nervously before adding, "I'm in love with you."

He said it so quietly, so sweetly, that it had you wondering if you were hearing things. But then you saw the anxious look in his eye and your pulse skyrocketed.

"Really?" you asked in disbelief. Slowly, he nodded.

"Yeah. I think I've been in love with you for a while," he admitted, tracing an invisible line down your cheek.

You laughed and two fresh tears fell when you said, "I love you, too."

His mouth crashed against yours in relief and you wrapped your arms around his neck, matching smiles pressing together in stunned happiness.

"I'm sorry I wasted so much time and didn't tell you sooner," he murmured while stroking your hair.

"It doesn't matter," you replied, "we have each other now."

Javi smiled and kissed the tip of your nose.

"So, now what?" he asked.

"Now? Now I would really like to take a shower," you said, then grinned when you added, "and maybe in the morning we can do this all over again."

He laughed and rolled to his side so you could get out of bed. When his eyes locked onto your ass as you made your way to the bathroom in the dark, he flung the covers off and leapt out of bed to follow you.

"I think we're gonna need a late check out."

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[nereidprinc3ss]

promiscuous

in which spencer reid doesn't like that flirty!reader is going on a date. he makes that known. (bandages universe)

flangst, 18+ for discussions of sex warnings/tags: gn!reader I think, mentions of going to a bar/going for drinks, very suppressed mutual pining, jealousy from Spencer, reader implied to engage in casual sex, reader calls themself a slut somewhat disparagingly but like as a joke, it all gets resolved, he is very sweet, he rambles when he's nervous a/n: oh God I love them so much they are like so in love and they literally have no idea at all because they're so dumb... but WE can tell.. turning point for them

“Penelope wanted me to confirm that you guys are coming to drinks with us tonight?”

It’s something of a standing tradition for the BAU on the last Friday of every month, and usually you’d agree, but tonight, you have other plans. 

“Raincheck for me,” you say, sliding some files into your bag which you do not plan on reviewing. “I have a thing.”

“What thing do you have on a Friday night?” Morgan asks skeptically. You don’t bother looking at him as you hide a smile. 

“A date, Morgan. You jealous?”

“You’re going on a date?”

You’d nearly forgotten Spencer was in the room until he spoke—he’s been in one of those quiet moods of his where he sort of floats around everyone else and makes himself insubstantial. As you cast him a sidelong glance, trying to figure out his tone of voice, you see he’s frowning. Nearly grimacing. His brows are drawn so tight you’re worried he’ll give himself a headache. 

“Uh, yeah. I am.” Suddenly, your parade feels a little rained on. 

“With who?”

You pause, looking back down at your desk with a new frown of your own and shaking your head as if you could clear it that way. “Just… some guy from OT.”

“Dalton?”

Ding ding ding. Somehow he got it right on the first guess, and for some reason, you wish he hadn’t. You don’t want Spencer knowing who you’re going on a date with. It feels wrong. 

“Does it matter?” You evade, shoving your things with a little more force into your bag. 

“Well Dalton is an idiot, so I guess I’m just trying to figure out why you’d go out with him.”

“And if it’s not Dalton?”

“Then I’d tell you all the guys in OT are idiots and you shouldn’t waste your time on any of them.”

“Alright—” Morgan passes between your desks, placing a friendly hand on your back as he does. “I’m gonna let you two hash this out by yourselves.” He gives you a look, eyebrows raised, unsmiling, that means, go easy on the kid. It makes you feel terribly guilty. And more than a little defensive. 

“Night,” you call halfheartedly. He only waves as the glass doors swing shut behind him, leaving you and boy genius alone in the bull pen.

Silence falls, cloistering you as you finish packing up together. It seems to magnify the buzz of the overheads. You notice him intentionally lingering, and you sling your bag over your shoulder with a sigh. 

“Okay,” you say, turning to face him with your whole body. He seems uncomfortable with that, but you’re not letting this go. “What is this? Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you,” he mumbles, refusing to meet your eyes. “I just think—”

“Yeah. You’ve made your thoughts abundantly clear. I don’t know why you’re judging me for going on a date.”

“I’m not judging you! I just think you deserve better than a guy who looks like he… snorts protein powder for every meal and has less capacity for intelligent conversation than a mealworm.”

“Okay. Do you have someone in mind?”

The words come out a little sharper than you’d meant for them to. A little louder. Spencer looks like a scolded puppy as he swallows. 

“Not specifically. Just—someone more like you.”

He just doesn’t get it. You fold your jacket over your arm. 

“Yeah, well, until someone more like me comes along and asks me out, Dalton is the best I’ve got. I know he’s not my soulmate, Reid. But he asked me to drinks, and I said yes.”

The room is mostly dark. Only a few fluorescents remain on to cast Spencer in an almost clinical glow against a dark grey background. You’ve been here before. It feels like an interrogation. An environment where you’re practically begging for the truth without saying please, but there’s only room for measured dishonesty. 

Spencer speaks under his breath, fiddling with the strap of his own bag. “He’s not good enough for you.”

“What do you want me to do?” It’s an exasperated, confrontational sigh. Your arms raise and fall heavily back to your sides. Another long grey hallway of silence that leads nowhere. When it becomes clear he doesn’t have the answer, or he’s not comfortable sharing, you straighten. “I’ll see you Monday, Reid.”

Your spirits are completely dampened as you trudge to the elevators. What once seemed like an exciting opportunity now only serves as a depressing reminder that you’re wasting your time with a man who isn’t what you want. Maybe you should just call the whole thing off. 

“Wait,” Spencer calls, half-jogging to catch the open elevator. His bag bobs with every step, pens and things jingling around inside. It’s endearing, even though you’re upset with him. Your arms remain stubbornly crossed, but he makes it anyway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your mood.”

You laugh dryly. “Yeah, well…”

“It’s just that…” he sniffs and looks down, hair falling in front of his face. He really is sweet, even when he’s kind of a dick. He’s full of so much sincerity he doesn’t know what to do with it all. “I know how you are—you’re special, and funny, and intelligent, and, and Dalton—all those qualities are wasted on him. He looks at you and he just sees a pretty face. It may sound trite, but… he doesn’t deserve you.”

You sigh again, heart squeezing. The glowing light on the panel of floor numbers flickers. “I know your heart is in the right place, alright? But it’s not about who deserves me or who doesn’t. I’m not a prize. I’m a person, and people like to feel wanted. Sometimes, it’s just—it’s about who’s there, and who likes me enough to say it to my face. Sometimes that’s all I need, and I know you didn’t mean it like this, but when you say he doesn’t deserve me, it really seems like you’re not considering what I might want at all. Maybe Dalton is what I want.”

God—this elevator ride is like, comedically long. 

“Is he what you want?”

At least he has the bravery to ask. 

You glance over at Spencer, washed out bloodless and looking like he’s prepared to flinch, like he doesn’t know if he’s ready for the answer. The doors ding and slide open, and stale air whooshes from the chrome compartment into the lobby like a held breath finally exhaled. You swallow. 

“I don’t know why it matters to you.”

“Because you’re my friend and I want to see you happy,” he insists, trailing after you as you speed walk through the lobby. Every click of your heeled boots echos. 

“Then shouldn’t you be supporting me?”

“I’m not going to support you in making the wrong choice.”

The conversation spills out into the bitter-cold parking lot. You turn around to face him. 

“Respectfully, you have no idea what’s right or wrong for me. I don’t like whatever this is,” you say, gesturing with a finger between the two of you, as if the conflict were a tangible thing—a phone line hanging between your hearts. “I don’t know if it’s, like, jealousy, or some misplaced feeling of possessiveness, or protectiveness, or—”

“It’s not like that!” He splutters. 

“Okay—so what is it like? If you want to see me happy, why don’t you support me in pursuing the things that make me happy? And if that’s meaningless sex with some guy from operational tech, so be it! You are not in a position to give your two cents on who I sleep with!”

“I wasn’t trying to—I wasn’t even thinking about—about sex! I don’t care who you sleep with!”

He’s turning increasingly pink. 

“Fine. But if you weren’t thinking about sex, if you thought I was under any illusion that Dalton was going to be my fucking Prince Charming then clearly you’re not equipped to have this conversation. I know he’s an idiot. I’m not looking for my soulmate—thank you, though, for reminding me that it’s completely fucking pointless to even pretend. I love you, Spencer, but grow up. And stay out of my business.”

And with that, you’re turning on your heel and marching toward your car. Spencer calls your name—once. Twice. The wind lashes against your bare arms and stings your eyes as you fumble with your keys. 

It’s just the wind. 

Nothing else. 

-

Maybe you’re simply not meant for love. 

It’s a narcissistic thought in the sense that everyone has it at some point in their lives—everyone falls victim to the delusion that they are so uniquely wretched, so singularly incapable of being understood by another person. It’s the universal illusion of solitude. And you’d thought yourself above it for a long time. In college, there was fling after fling. Your bed was never empty if you didn’t want it to be. In your young adult life, you have other priorities—but you rarely have to be alone. 

Now, though, as you sit on a rickety metal stool deep in the bowels of the Bureau’s records room, banished to sort through files in search of one that had been mishandled during a cold case and is now supposedly relevant again, (although you’re not sure it actually exists) you’re pondering the nature of those connections you’d been so sure your life was full of. Were they all artificial? Designed by you subconsciously to manufacture a sense of complacent satisfaction? To stave off the aching, gnawing loneliness in your gut that you’re only now becoming aware of and has been eating you away in bigger and bigger bites since Friday night?

Morgan was supposed to be just as arm-deep into a box of dusty manila folders as you are now, but he talked his way out of it, and you’re sitting in an awkward twenty-minute-long-so-far silence with Spencer. Which isn’t helping anything. 

The tension comes and goes like the moon pulling the tides. It’s like you can sense it wafting off of each other—you feel it in the prickle on the back of your neck and the buzz in your stomach when he’s about to say something, and you glance over, and he’s already looking at you with his lips parted, and then he doesn’t say anything after all, and the silence reinforces itself. 

It gets frustrating. 

Not to mention this task is equal parts mind numbing and infuriating. Maybe Hotch just hates you. 

Eventually Spencer clears his throat, and you welcome the distraction. 

“What year are you on?”

You give him a long look which he doesn’t reciprocate, because you want to say, really? But eventually you pick up the edge of the box you’re sifting through and double check. 

“Uh… June 1979 through August 1979.”

He nods matter-of-facts. “They should be making us wear gloves.”

Your incoming tangent spidey senses are tingling. It’s not exactly an opportune time, but it’s better than silence. 

Plus—you’re pretty sure this is his idea of a peace offering. 

“Why’s that?” You mutter, flicking through yellowed papers. 

“Wood pulp paper contains an alum-rosin mixture to minimize ink bleeding, but in the presence of moisture such as that introduced in trace amounts by our fingertips it generates a diluted sulfuric acid solution. They didn’t start adding alkaline buffers into paper until 1986, and the cellulose chains that comprise the structure of the paper inevitably shorten and break down over time, so we’re actively degrading these documents by touching them without gloves.”

“Did you say sulfuric acid?”

“I said a diluted sulfuric acid solution,” he clarifies, utterly missing the point of your question as he so often does in that disarmingly endearing way of his. “Sorry, by the way.”

You look up from a photo of bloodied bell-bottom jeans. He’s caught you by surprise. 

“For what?”

“For—”

He struggles with the words—you watch his lips form a few silent ones before he gives up on the nonchalant act and sets his file on his lap. He can’t seem to tear his eyes from it, but you don’t mind. 

“For everything on Friday. I… I know it was none of my business. I sometimes struggle with… keeping my thoughts to myself. Especially when it concerns someone I care about. But I wasn’t judging you, I swear. What you said about—about sex, I—” he sighs, obviously frustrated with himself, and pushes a bit of hair out of his eyes. “That’s not where my mind was at, at all. Whatever you… do, or don’t do, is none of my business. Obviously. You don’t need me to tell you that. You don’t need me to tell you anything. I just really wanted to clarify that I wasn’t shaming you or judging you for—”

“Spencer,” you say gently, cutting him off and reeling him in before he can dig any deeper. 

“Yeah. Sorry.”

He glows under the canned lighting, a soft aura of white blurring the edges of him. The stale room buzzes. It’s otherwise quiet down here. Peaceful, almost. 

From anyone else, you might consider it overstepping. 

You wouldn’t have been willing to forgive them in the first place. 

But it’s not anyone else. 

“Thank you, for apologizing. I really appreciate it.”

He glances up at you, sort of hunched—always trying to make himself smaller than whatever force created him had intended. The deep brown of his eyes is melted and swirling and sweet and nervous. He’s not naturally good at these interpersonal things, but he’s always trying. He’s always pushing himself for you.

Do you ask too much? 

Do you offer enough in return?

Struck by sudden insecurity, you look away. Go back to your files. 

Perhaps you made a mountain out of a molehill and told him to climb it. 

“I mean, I am kind of a slut. I wouldn’t blame you for thinking so,” you laugh airily. “Maybe it was a good reality check.”

A trailing silence. An air conditioner kicks on. 

“What? That’s not—that’s not at all what I was trying to say.”

“Spencer, it’s fine.”

His stool squeaks as he sits up straighter. 

“No, I really want you to understand. Even if I cared or thought about how many people you might sleep with—which I don’t—and even if I determined that you were… sexually promiscuous, I wouldn’t assign a moral value to that judgement. Sexual promiscuity is observed all the time in the animal kingdom, it’s biologically sound and justified and in less misogynistic cultures where bonds forged between humans weren’t socioeconomic arrangements dependent on women being viewed as commodities first and foremost, it’s completely unremarkable. But I haven’t made that determination. All I know is that… you’re you. And that’s all that’s ever going to matter to me.”

Silence falls. Your voice gets stuck in your throat. 

How does he so casually show you more kindness than anyone else has ever managed to show you in your life?

Spencer takes pity on you. 

“And… we’ve talked entirely too much about something that’s none of my business today.”

It’s wry and earns a chuckle from you. Even Spencer manages a chagrined smile. That same strand of hair falls loose as he looks down. Light bounces from his self-effacing smirk. 

You fiddle absentmindedly with the fraying corner of a folder, and you’re about to open your mouth, about to speak into the sparkling cloud that the easy laughter and the melted tension has left in its wake, and tell him how much you appreciate him and how kind he truly is and undoubtedly whatever you say will be made more beautiful because of it—because of the affection you have for each other—and then you stop, eyes catching on the case file between your fingers. You frown. 

“Wait—what’s the case number we’re looking for?”

“91 18 00063 7.”

You hold the file up, eyes alight. 

“I found it.”

Spencer frowns and takes it without asking. You watch as he reviews the number in tiny black typeface along the top of the document. His brow scrunches in disbelief. 

“I genuinely didn’t think we were ever going to find it,” he murmurs after leading through the photos and glances back up at you. “We had thirty years of boxes to look through and you found it in under an hour. You’re like magic.”

It’s impossible not to smile. You feel all warm and sparkly as you snatch it back from him and stand, straightening your jacket. 

“Will you tell that to Hotch?”

“I… will tell anyone who will listen,” he assures you, and you’re confident he’s following as you make your way through the maze of stacks. “Are we not gonna clean up our mess?”

“There are people who will take care of that later.”

“Yeah. Like me. During my lunch break.”

“Don’t worry. You’re going to be well rewarded for your efforts today.”

“What does that mean?” He mumbles, and you can practically hear his blush. 

You smile to yourself. 

Still got it. 

for more of these two, check out the bandages universe masterlist!

[spencerreidenjoyer]

insatiable | spencer reid x reader

Spencer learns how amazing sex is with you, but gets caught up with work. You show your boyfriend how good it can feel even if you’re not together physically, and he shows you how much he misses you when he gets back.

part 1 - addicted to you | part 2

wc: 4.6k, rating: 18+/explicit

tags/warnings: established relationship, phone sex/video sex, mutual masturbation, public (bathroom) sex, brief mentions of typical BAU stuff (not in detail), meeting the family (literally reader meets the BAU), brief mentions of alcohol, making out, vaginal sex, getting caught (not in the act but afterward lmao)

a/n: this is what an insane person does when they're sick for two days and have nothing better to do over the summer. this is a second part to addicted to you (you don't have to read the first part but it does provide some context for some details within the fic), with inspiration taken from a lovely comment I got on ao3 that made me feel kinda crazy. i included some textfic elements in this fic as well which i hope reads well (bold text is spencer)! also I know early seasons spencer technically sets this around 2005-2007 but they have smartphones and video calling (aka present day) so please suspend your disbelief for the length of this fic lmao (p.s this fic is also on ao3!)

Your boyfriend gets whisked away for work sooner than you expect. Spencer’s supposed to have time off the rest of this week, but you suppose killers aren’t exactly respectful of an FBI agent’s time off of work. It’s downright cruel when he’s called in to work on a Friday evening, when you have dinner and wine set at the table, having gotten ready to spend a quiet, romantic evening in with Spencer. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, rushing to change out of his sweatshirt and joggers into his typical work attire. You stand in the doorway of his room, mildly amused while Spencer panics to put an outfit together. “I know you had a whole evening in planned, but–”

“Don’t be, baby,” you assure him. “You have a killer to catch. Oh, that one– the blue cardigan looks good with those pants. It matches your socks.”

Spencer smiles as he looks up at you, reaching for the navy blue cardigan to his left. He tugs it on rather hurriedly, comes up to you and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re the best. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You shake your head. “Just find the bastard quick and come home to me.”

“I know. I will,” Spencer says.

After the both of you found out just how much Spencer liked fucking you, you were really hoping that your weekend together could be spent in his bed, but duty calls. Technically, JJ had called him in, but you’re not concerned about specifics right now.  

You spend the evening alone in Spencer’s apartment, half of the wine finished and his TV playing reruns of some show you haven’t been paying attention to. Your eyelids feel heavy, and Spencer’s bed is so comfortable you can’t bring yourself to leave it. That is, until your phone buzzes on Spencer’s nightstand, and you’re suddenly very alert.

I miss you, darling. > hey, i’m surprised you have the down time to text. i miss you too I’m really sorry I had to leave so suddenly. We’re on the jet right now.  > i told you it’s okay! i’m surprised the jet has wifi lol Taxpayer money, I guess? We land in LA in a couple of hours and we’re heading straight to the PD to work on the case. > my poor boyfriend is working so hard instead of cuddling me in bed :( How you tempt me, lovely. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Are you going to sleep soon? It’s late. > yeah i’m staying at yours for the night and maybe until you get back? really miss you already Okay, that’s good. I know. I’ll call when I’m in the hotel and settled for the day? :-( > yes please. also stop sending emojis with noses they aren’t supposed to look like that!!! They aren’t anatomically correct without them. The way you send them > babe they’re emojis it’s ok if they’re not anatomically correct Hahaha I love you. > lol i love you too! Goodnight, love. > goodnight spence <3 <3

You can imagine, especially from the way Spencer recounts it, how his coworker Derek must be teasing him about smiling at his phone, about how pretty boy’s lucky lady must be one hell of a woman to get Spencer so smitten. 

You would say you’re rather independent, especially in relationships, but Spencer has you acting like a clingy girlfriend. You can’t help but feel an ache in your chest as you long for him while he’s away, feeling like a military wife whose husband is out instead of being normal. To be fair, being with Spencer has never been “normal” – he always has something interesting up his sleeve, or some quirk that makes you even more enamoured with him. 

Your Saturday is relatively uneventful, milling about Spencer’s apartment. You laze around in bed for way too long, enough where Spencer would’ve definitely hauled you out of bed himself an hour ago if he were here. You make yourself breakfast, unsurprised that Spencer only has cereal in his pantry and almond milk in his fridge. You sit down with one of his very sophisticated literature books but you don’t get very far with it, and opt to clean Spencer’s apartment instead. 

It’s when you’re sweeping the floor that you realise just how much you like Spencer, feeling so strongly attached to him already. You’ve said your ‘I love you’s, given him his firsts. You were staying in his apartment even while he was away– hell, you’re even cleaning his apartment for him. 

Just for a moment, you let yourself fantasise about this being your apartment – yours and Spencer’s; about waking up to him every morning, about making breakfast for the both of you that isn’t cereal and almond milk, about coming home to each other instead of an empty apartment. 

You sigh and get back to cleaning.

You’re settled into his bed, surrounded by the comforting scent of him when Spencer finally does call. You almost drop your phone in your excitement to pick up. 

“Hey! Hi, Spence,” you say, unable to help the smile that’s forming on your face. 

“Hello, love,” Spencer answers. He sounds a little tired. You can imagine the little furrow in his brow, obviously exhausted and dissatisfied from a full day’s work of catching some bastard in LA, and you wish you could be there to kiss his frown away. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Spencer. Long day?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer sighs tiredly. “This UnSub is so slippery. No convictions, no paper trail, nothing, and he’s killing every other–” Spencer starts to ramble but he catches himself. “Sorry. I won’t talk about work right now. It’s pretty grim.”

“It’s okay,” you hum. “Do you want to talk about work right now?”

Spencer makes a little noise. “No, no. I don’t want to bring that to you. Let’s talk about you. How are you, honey?”

Honey. The name makes your insides feel all gooey, soft and warm and lovely. “I’m- I’m okay. I stayed at your place, cleaned up around here. I’m thankful it’s not as much of a man cave as I thought.”

Spencer laughs through the phone, a breathy chuckle. “Thank you for cleaning up for me, love. It’s just a lot of nerdy stuff, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s endearing. I tried to read one of your books earlier and could barely get past the first ten pages.” You tell him, garnering another chuckle from Spencer. “I like your place a lot.”

“I miss you,” Spencer says again. “Waking up to you and having you around is so much nicer than this dingy hotel room I’m in.”

“Aw. Taxpayer money couldn’t upgrade you to a better room?” 

Spencer snorts. “No, but I lucked out on getting the room all to myself.”

There’s a pause as you figure out what to say, and Spencer is quick to follow up, “I didn’t mean–”

“Does this have something to do with you missing me, baby?” You can’t help but grin. Spencer makes a distressed little noise over the line.

“Well, I– Maybe, but we don’t have to–” Spencer stammers, unable to find the words. He’s absolutely adorable. 

“I want to, Spence,” you coo. “I miss you so much.”

You hear Spencer exhale shakily. “What– What do I do?”

“A genius like you hasn’t forgotten how to touch himself, has he?” you tease, Spencer whining on the other end at your words. “Does that eidetic memory of yours come with an overactive imagination too?”

“Surprisingly, no. Hyperphantasia is more of being able to visualise different types of situations in one’s mind, and that’s what usually is associated with an overactive imagination. Having an eidetic memory is more about high-precision recall after seeing something even just once. I think having an eidetic memory pretty much ensures you don’t have aphantasia, or the inability to see and create mental images, but yeah.”

Ah, even his nerdy ramblings turn you on. 

“So does that mean you can recall the way I looked in bed a few nights ago?” you prod, and you wish you could see how red Spencer must be by now.

“Well, yes. Of course I can. How could I ever forget how beautiful you looked then?” Spencer’s words are sweet, earnest, and you melt. 

“Then picture that,” you barely get the words out because you’re so smitten. “Imagine I’m right there with you, Spencer.”

You hear the rustling of the sheets, and Spencer’s little telltale whine as he wraps his hand around himself. “O-Oh–”

“I miss you, Spence,” you drawl. “Miss the way your cock fits inside me. You miss my tight cunt, baby?”

“Your mouth is filthy,” Spencer laughs breathily. “But yeah, I do. You always feel so good around me.”

“You’re touching yourself, yeah?” you ask. You get a little whine from him as an affirmative, but your imagination is running wild – you want to see him. “Can you show me?”

“Yeah, I just– Do you wanna switch it over to a video call? I can’t–”

You laugh at your boyfriend’s lack of technical prowess, tapping at your phone screen until the top half of his face comes up. “Hey, I’m just trying to find a good angle–”

“Don’t just flip the camera and show me your dick, please. That would be so unsexy.” You say.

Spencer furrows his brows. “I was not planning on doing that, for the record.” 

You watch the phone move until Spencer comes into frame, the phone likely propped up at the foot of the bed and exposing all of Spencer to you. You might be drooling right now.

“This is… a lot,” Spencer laughs nervously. “I feel so naked.”

“You’re mostly clothed,” you quip. 

“Ha ha,” Spencer laughs dryly. “I’ve just… I’ve never done this before.”

“Phone sex? Or calling your girlfriend so you can jerk off for her?” 

Spencer gives you a deadpan look. “Both, honey.”

You grin. “I’m glad to be your first. Now, show me how you make yourself feel good, baby.”

Spencer’s cheeks are a gorgeous rosy red when he takes his cock into his hand again, his tip leaking as he strokes himself slowly. With his eyes fluttering shut, Spencer’s lips part as he indulges himself in his pleasure. Like this, you indulge yourself in admiring all of Spencer – the flush on his cheeks that runs down to his neck, his breathy panting as he touches himself to the thought of you.

“Spence,” you sigh. “You’re so pretty.”

His eyes shutter open as he looks at you, somehow even redder than he already was. “You’re the pretty one, darling. Are you– Will you touch yourself for me?”

You hold back your moan as you nod. You were already in your underwear when you had slid into Spencer’s bed, but now all it takes is you sliding your fingers past the waistband to feel how wet you already are between your legs. “Oh, Spence.”

“Do you feel good, love?” he hums, voice only a little bit strained from his immense pleasure. 

The embarrassingly loud squelch that results when you sink your fingers into yourself is enough of an answer. Spencer grins, and you’re red in the face as you rock your hips down onto your own fingers. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything, honey,” Spencer laughs. “But I wish I could feel you right now.”

“I know, I miss the way you feel inside me,” you pant. “Please, Spencer–”

“Take off your underwear,” Spencer’s voice is breathy as he pleads with you. “I want to see you.”

You prop your phone up so your angle matches Spencer’s, both of you on full display for each other. You watch the way Spencer’s eyes widen when you slide your panties off, the way his eyes are trained on your figure through the screen. He says, “You’re so wet…”

“All for you, baby,” you sigh, leaning back as you slide two fingers back into yourself. You scissor them rather hastily, craving the hurried way Spencer fucks you. “It’s not the same without you here.”

“I know,” Spencer hums. “You look so good like that. I wish I could make you feel good right now.”

You moan, pushing your fingers into yourself deeper, barely hitting where Spencer reaches easily. The squelch from between your legs is obscene. “You do, baby. You’re making me feel so good, just thinking about you.” 

In practically a whisper, Spencer admits, “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

You let out a weak cry, impossibly turned on by your boyfriend’s filthy admission because you didn’t even think he had it in him to say it so bluntly. You slide your fingers in and out hurriedly, your palm giving you the friction on your clit that you crave so desperately. “Spencer–”

Spencer lets out a strangled cry, muffled behind his hand, when he comes. It’s sudden, Spencer’s load painting the soft skin of his stomach, his cock twitching. You moan as you follow suit, wetness drenching your hand as you ride out your own orgasm, imagining his cock inside of you. 

“Oh, fuck.” Spencer gasps, head thrown back as you watch his chest rise and fall as he breathes heavily. His forehead and neck are covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his cock out against the rest of his rather soft, innocent looking outfit is making you giggle just a little.

“You look really hot right now,” you say instead, wishing you could be laying next to him while he recovers.

“I think I should be saying that about you,” Spencer laughs. “You’re gorgeous. You’re so stunning.”

“How long are you going to be away?” You pout. “I like it when I can actually kiss you after you compliment me.”

Spencer smiles sympathetically. “I’ll be back soon, my love.”

“I’ll take phone sex with my boyfriend as a consolation, then.” You wink, making Spencer laugh. 

“Remind me not to get too loud, though. I think Emily is in the room next to me and I really hope these walls are thick enough.” He says, sounding vaguely concerned.

You laugh, and stay on the line a little longer just to relish in a peaceful moment with Spencer.

The next day, when you’re out getting groceries to stock up Spencer’s fridge, you get a text from Spencer.

I don’t know how much Emily heard last night, but she’s been looking at me funny all morning. > lol oops? If we call again tonight, we might have to keep it down.  > if? not when? :) I love you so much. > i know and i love you too :) and you should probably apologise to emily about last night Well, if we’re calling again tonight then maybe I should just give her one big apology when all of this is over. > good idea. now go catch your killer so we can go back to having sex irl Okay!

Unfortunately, Spencer gets too busy to call you again that night, the team working overtime to catch their UnSub, whose kills were escalating exponentially. You don’t find yourself bothered by it, by Spencer disappearing for the night with nothing more than a message sent your way, instead relishing in the fact that it’ll feel even more rewarding when he comes home. 

You’ve never felt this way before, craving Spencer so desperately while he’s away at work. While you’ve only been together a couple of months, you respect that Spencer’s work takes up a lot of his time. It doesn’t mean you don’t miss him, though, as much as you enjoy your alone time.

All of the team’s hard work pays off, though, because they’re storming into the UnSub’s lair by Monday afternoon, and Spencer texts you when you’re just clocking out of the office.

Great news! We caught the guy. We’re packing up at the PD and coming home soon. > omg!!! that’s so great The team wants to go out for celebratory drinks.  > you should totally go ahead and celebrate with them spence! you guys worked your asses off on this case We did. But I’m telling you because I want you to join us. I want you to meet the team too.  > oh? i would love to but are you sure they want me there? Of course, sweet girl. Derek wants to know who has me smiling at my phone half the time, and Emily is asking who I’m calling in the middle of the night. > omg so she did hear you … I think so, love. > … i will apologise to her tonight then I’ll send you the address. Love you > love you too spence <3

There’s just enough time for you to get home and change into a nice outfit – a tight, red dress that hits your mid-thigh, your hair curled and your makeup touched-up before you head to the bar Spencer’s sent you the address to. While you know Spencer’s team is lovely, you do want to make a good first impression.

You see Spencer’s gangly form at the bar when you get there, the rest of his team facing away from you as they get their drinks. You see Spencer’s face brighten as he spots you, raising his hand and waving to you excitedly. The rest of his team notices, and turns to look at you too. You would be shy at all the attention, but Spencer’s unabashed adoration of you, especially in front of all his friends, is giving you more than enough confidence to walk up to the group.

“Hello,” you smile, and the warmth you feel from the team makes you feel welcome already. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

You shake hands with Hotch and Rossi as you introduce yourself. While you had heard of Hotch as a rather cold, serious Unit Chief, the way he warmly smiles at you makes you feel at ease. “So, you’re Spencer’s girlfriend. It’s great to finally meet you.”

“It’s great to meet you too, sir,” you answer rather instinctively, making both Rossi and Hotch laugh heartily. 

“Aaron might be Reid’s boss, but he certainly isn’t yours,” Rossi chuckles. 

Before you can feel embarrassed by it, you get pulled into a tight, warm hug by Penelope, and when she lets you go, JJ hands you a drink, and Derek and Emily are regarding you with knowing smirks. 

“Reid, you are one lucky man,” Derek says, after pulling you into a welcoming hug. “Don’t mess this up, lover boy.”

“I know,” Spencer says, his hand reaching for yours. You lace your fingers with Spencer’s, squeezing his hand comfortingly. “And I won’t mess this up.”

“Lover boy is right, considering what I overheard the other night,” Emily says, looking at you and Spencer pointedly. JJ also has a knowing smile on her face, and you feel your cheeks get hot.

“I’m really sorry about that, Emily,” you smile sheepishly. “I hope Spencer’s apologised for it too.”

“Again, I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Spencer says, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Emily. “I would say ‘We won’t do it again’, but…”

You shriek amidst the laughter of Spencer’s coworkers, Spencer laughing along as he holds onto your waist. You feel adored, so readily welcomed by Spencer’s friends, and you feel like you belong, by Spencer’s side.

After you chat with the rest of the team for a little more, they eventually disperse to do their own things, leaving you and Spencer alone. Spencer looks at you with such adoration in his eyes and you feel like you’re going to melt. “Hi,” he says warmly.

“Hi, Spence,” you say. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Spencer smiles. “But I’m here now.”

“You are,” you breathe, giddy with excitement, and lean in to kiss him. It’s a quick peck, but Spencer pulls you back in like you’re the air he needs to breathe. He kisses you deep, eager, pouring every drop of himself into you. His hands cup your face sweetly, kissing you until you feel breathless. 

“Oh my God, Spencer,” you giggle when he finally pulls back, eyes wild as he regards you. “You really missed me, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Spencer laughs. 

“Do we need to pretend to keep our hands off each other or do you just want to go and make out in the bathroom?” You say simply. You don’t expect Spencer to be down, considering how quickly he’d rattle off the statistics about the germs in a public bathroom, but Spencer smiles at you and pulls you toward the single stall.

You’re thankful it’s a relatively big, clean-looking single stall bathroom, Spencer locking the door behind you as you lean back against the sink. Spencer’s taller figure crowds you in with ease, and you feel swallowed up by him as he kisses you again. He’s desperate, eager as his tongue slips into your mouth, his little noises so deliciously sinful as you kiss him back.

“Spence–” you gasp, in between kissing Spencer back. “Oh, baby–”

“What we did over the phone wasn’t enough,” he murmurs, eyes unblinking as he gazes at you. “I need you right now.”

Sure enough, Spencer’s hard in his pants. He pushes his hips forward, pressing his erection against your thigh. You whimper, drawing your lower lip between your teeth. “Please, Spence. You can take me right here, right now.”

You feel just as desperate as Spencer seems, his hands eager as they roam up your body. He’s eager to touch and squeeze and grope whatever he can get his hands on, and you relish in the way his large, sturdy hands grab your thighs, your waist, your breasts.

“You look so good tonight, my love,” Spencer grunts as he presses his face to your neck, his lips kissing up the column of your neck hurriedly. “So gorgeous. Letting me show you off to all my friends too– Thank you, you’re so perfect–”

“Spencer,” you gasp, hand sliding down to rub at his hard-on. You’re so turned on by how aroused Spencer is already, from just kissing you, from just touching you. “Fuck me, please?”

Spencer exhales shakily, lifting you up slightly so you can sit back on the countertop, your legs spread to accommodate Spencer between them. You’re soaked through your underwear, and you watch Spencer marvel at the sight. His hands are shaking slightly as he undoes his belt, pushing his pants down just enough to get his cock out. He’s hard and heavy and leaking, and you find yourself drooling as he strokes himself momentarily.

Spencer’s biting his lower lip in utter concentration, pushing your dress up and out of the way. You expect his hands to slide your panties off, but instead his fingers push the fabric aside, revealing your slick, wet entrance that he presses the head of his cock to. “Oh–”

“Like this,” Spencer says, breathless, his sentence not even fully coherent but you understand, especially when Spencer pushes the tip of his cock into you. You muffle a sob into your hand, feeling so on edge as you accommodate Spencer’s length. 

The burn is perfect, the slow drag of his cock inside of you teetering between pain and pleasure. It’s a primal urge the both of you desperately need to fulfil, and the way he presses into you satiates you so perfectly. Your arms slung around Spencer’s neck, you cry out weakly as he rocks his hips into you, already brutal and hurried with the pace. 

You’ve never felt this undone, so desperate that you’d let yourself get fucked in a bathroom stall. You barely have any alcohol in your system, for you to feel reckless enough to do something like this. Hell, Spencer hadn’t even taken your panties off before he’d started fucking you. The fact that prim and proper Spencer of all people is making you like this makes your head spin. 

“Oh, fuck, baby,” you whimper into his shoulder. “So good, Spence, oh–”

“You feel so good,” Spencer groans, hips stuttering as he tells you just that. “You’re so perfect. I love you.”

“I love you so much,” you hiccup, feeling Spencer drill into you, the muffled slap of his thrusts hitting the back of your thighs. You’re so overwhelmed, pleasure zipping through you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, as Spencer fucks you like you’re the only person in the world that matters right now. 

“I’m close,” Spencer gasps, pace growing uneven, hurried, as he chases his pleasure while trying so hard to make you feel good too. “Please, I–”

You cry out as your orgasm hits you, too sudden, too quick. You clench around Spencer as your body shakes, Spencer fucking you through it with desperation. You don’t expect to come so quickly, but you suppose missing Spencer has an effect on you. 

You squelch obscenely with your release as Spencer continues to fuck you, needy and hurried, moaning in your ear as he stumbles into his orgasm too, wracking through his body like he has no control over it. You feel his load spill inside of you, hot and messy, his hands trembling as his thrusts slow.

“Oh, fuck,” you say, laughing slightly. “Holy shit, Spencer. We just had sex in a public bathroom, this is crazy.”

“We just had sex in a public bathroom,” Spencer echoes, sounding mildly panicked. “Oh, my God.”

“It was very fucking hot.” You assure him, holding his face in your hands to look him in the eyes, stopping him from overthinking. “But we should probably go home, because I’m a fucking mess between my legs right now.”

“I might need to take a shower,” Spencer says, his voice wavering slightly. “The sink is technically the most germ-ridden surface in a public bathroom, the damp environment makes it a–”

“Spencer, I love you so much, but for your sake and mine, let’s not talk about germs right now.” You shudder at the thought. “I think I need to take a shower after that too.”

“Let me clean you up, and we can go home.” Spencer, despite his germ anxieties, is rather sweet in cleaning you up. Your panties are ruined with fluids, and you’re starting to feel Spencer’s load trickling out of you when you stand back up, but you relish in the fact that you’re going to be back at his apartment soon enough. 

(The fact that Spencer hadn’t corrected you when you called his place home, makes your heart sing.)

You clean up your makeup and make your hair look as presentable as it can be, especially after your boyfriend has literally fucked you in a public bathroom, and when you both look presentable enough, you try to slip out of the bathroom casually.

Unfortunately, Derek and Emily are right there, catching you in the act of leaving, obviously noting the way you and Spencer look absolutely dishevelled. 

Derek raises his eyebrows, grinning. “Damn, lover boy.”

“Shut up,” Spencer retaliates weakly, his voice slightly shaky. 

“We’re heading home first,” you say with all the confidence you can muster, trying very hard not to feel extremely embarrassed in front of Spencer’s very smug friends. You’re still holding Spencer’s hand, and you feel a little less afraid. “It was fun getting to meet you guys.”

Emily shakes her head playfully, smiling. “We’d love to hang out more with you another time. Maybe when Reid isn’t so desperate to get alone with you?”

Spencer makes a displeased noise, but you smile and nod at her. “Definitely.”

Derek and Emily let you slip out of the bar without saying much else, and you hope that the rest of Spencer’s team doesn’t hear about it. 

As you and Spencer step out of the bar and into the cool, evening air, you kiss his cheek once more. “I love you. Now, let’s get home so we can shower. And then we can have sex again in the comfort of your bed?”

Spencer grins, any earlier embarrassment seeming to melt away. “That sounds perfect. God, I love you.”

[theosbaby]

helping hand

lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

masterlist

SUMMARY ! the guys find out that enzo is still a virgin and they keep bothering him about it, so he asks for your help.

WARNINGS ! friends to lovers, use of y/n (just once i think), loss of virginity, SMUT, virgin!lorenzo, sub!lorenzo, dom!reader, mutual masturbation, p in v, lots of praising, neck grabbing, hair pulling, slight orgasm denial, unprotected sex.

NOTES ! english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. yes, i have read filthy and i know lorenzo isn't innocent at all, but i wanted to portray him like that for this one, hope you like it!

lorenzo was your best friend, he had been since you both were a couple of tweens and met at the hogwarts express on your first year. you remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. he had bumped into you, which made you drop your chocolate frog to the ground, after that, he immediately apologized and bought you the whole honeydukes trolley as an apology; at that moment, you swore to yourself you would never let him go.

and seven years later, he was the most important person in your life.

as every friday night, lorenzo and you were having a sleepover in your dormroom. that night, pansy, your roommate, was out on a date with some dude and you had the room all to yourselves. you were lying in your bed, enzo next to you. a film was playing, but you were having trouble to focus on it since enzo kept moving; he looked uneasy, which was really rare to be honest, lorenzo was the calmest guy in the whole wizarding world.

you couldn't possibly imagine what was going on in that pretty head of his.

truth is, the week before, the rest of the guys had discovered that enzo was still a virgin and they had been teasing him about it nonstop since then, which had already started to seriously bother him. at first, maybe you could say it was funny, but after eight days of constant jokes, it was not funny anymore.

you sighed, finally deciding to ask him what was going through his mind.

"lorenzo," you called him, using his full name, which you rarely did, "is something wrong? you seem off today..."

enzo looked away, clearly trying to avoid your eyes, and you frowned; that was the confirmation you needed to know that something was not fine, he never averted your gaze like that.

"nothing, just... dealing with some stress." he answered, dodging the subject. when he saw your unpleased look, he added, "it's not a big deal, seriously. don't worry about it."

"cmon, enzo..." you said, reaching to cup his cheek and force him to look at you, "i know you like the palm of my hand and i know something's bothering you."

you smiled reassuringly at him, pausing the film to focus fully on the conversation, then you added, "you can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

enzo's cheeks blushed slightly, his eyes darting back and forth as he looked at you, clearly hesitating whether he should tell you or not.

"you wouldn't... you wouldn't think any less of me, would you?" he asked and you saw a hint of vulnerability in his light brown irises.

you frowned as you looked at him, caressing his cheek softly; his attitude was making you really worried.

"of course not, enzo... you're my best friend," you told him with a soft and sweet voice, trying to get him to open to you.

he nodded slowly, leaning into your touch; he found comfort in your presence, it had always been that way. taking a deep breath, enzo finally confessed.

"well... it's just that... the guys found out i'm still a virgin and they've been teasing me about it all week." as he talked, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"that's it?" you asked, chuckling as your worried expression visibly softened. "they're a bunch of idiots... just ignore them," you reassured him, your hand moving up to stroke his soft hair.

enzo managed to let out a small laugh, his expression softening at your comment too.

"yeah, i know..." he muttered, his eyes fixed in yours as he thought of his next words, "but it's hard not to let it get to me when they treat me like some sort of joke."

"hey, don't say that..." you replicated, your brow furrowed as you heard his words. "there's nothing wrong with being a virgin."

he nodded, agreeing with you, while his eyes drifted back to the paused movie on the screen. despite your words, he still seemed a bit troubled. you were definitely going to beat the guys up the next time you saw them for making enzo feel so bad about something completely normal and natural.

"i know that... i can't help but feel self-conscious about it though," he said, then elaborated, "I mean, everyone else seems to be... well, you know."

"experienced?" you asked, finishing his sentence.

you grabbed his hand, entwining your fingers with his; you wanted to make him feel better. he looked down at your intertwined fingers and sighed softly.

"yeah... experienced." he nodded while he talked. "it's not like i haven't tried to lose my virginity or anything; it's just never been the right time or person, i guess."

you gave his hand a gentle squeeze when you heard his words, smiling at how sweet he was. enzo was simply the perfect guy, the perfect friend, and you were sure someday he'd be the perfect boyfriend.

"you'll get there eventually, trust me," you chuckled and rested your head on his shoulder. "just don't overthink it, okay?"

lorenzo smiled back, clearly more relaxed now that had confided in you. his fingers tightened slightly around yours as he rested his head on top of yours.

"i know, thanks for listening, darling."

"always, enzo." you kissed his cheek briefly. "and if they bother you again about it, just let me know, i'll gladly hit them," you added, laughing.

"you would do that for me?" he looked at you, his expressive eyes sparkling in the dim light of the room.

"i'd do anything for you," you answered honestly, smiling warmly at him.

it was the truest thing you had ever told him; there wasn't a single thing you wouldn't sacrifice for him. he was just worth it. your words seemed to awake something in him, you could almost see the gears in his head spinning as he stared at you intently.

"really? anything?" his voice deepened a bit, his eyes still locked onto yours. "can i ask you something then?"

"of course silly, anything," you replied, letting out a nervous laugh as his intense gaze made you feel butterflies in your belly.

"would you..." he swallowed nervously, taking a deep breath before continuing. "would you maybe... want to be my first?"

your breath hitched when you heard his proposal, your heart started racing in your chest. for a second, you thought that you could be dreaming, so you pinched yourself; the pain you felt confirmed that your were, in fact, not sleeping.

"enzo, are you sure about that?" you questioned, unsure if he was saying it seriously or not. "we've just talked about that, there's nothing wrong with being a virgin," you repeated.

"i know, darling." he bite his lower lip, looking down at the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "but i can't stop thinking about it... and i'd really like it to be with you."

"really?" you gasped in surprise, nipping at your bottom lip to try and hide the smirk that tugged at the corners of your mouth.

you loved enzo; not the kind of love you feel for a brother, though, you were in love with him, and you had tried to convince yourself otherwise for a long time, because you thought your feelings weren't reciprocated, but now... he was in front of you, asking you to be his first, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to ignore your feelings anymore.

"you aren't just doing it out of social pressure?"

you wanted to make sure he was not feeling pressured to do it; you wanted him to do it only if he finally felt ready to take that step.

"no, i mean it," he said, blushing shyly. "i really want it to be with you, y/n. you're so beautiful, and kind, and smart. i've had a crush on you for years."

his admission made your heart skip a beat; you thought you were going to faint right there and then. your thoughts were all over the place, your mind racing as you looked at him, but there was just one thing that you knew for sure; you were dying to kiss him... so you did.

"then, i guess it can be arranged," you whispered, reaching to cup his face and pull him into a kiss, one that was very sweet at first.

enzo's eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the kiss, his hands moving to rest on your hips. he gasped softly against your lips, his heart racing wildly. you took control of the kiss as you tangled your fingers in his hair and tug at it, slipping your tongue in his mouth; the innocent kiss soon turning into a full make out session.

his hands moved slowly but surely down to the small of your back, gently pressing against your lower back and pulling you even closer to him. you slightly moaned into the kiss, unable to get enough of the taste of his soft lips.

"you taste so good, enzo," you muttered between kisses, not pulling back at any moment.

your hand moved down his neck, gripping at it, which made enzo gasp softly, his fingers digging into your waist as his tongue became bolder in your mouth. he could feel himself getting hard, the rush of blood making him dizzy.

he was practically on top of you at that point, so you pushed him gently until he was sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and you straddled his lap, leaning in to resume the kissing. quickly, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close a he possibly could. one of his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, pushing it upwards slowly; the gentle caress of his fingertips on your skin gave you goosebumps.

"you want me to take this off, baby?" you asked, breaking the kiss, as you started toying with the hem of your top.

lorenzo looked at you with hooded eyes, licking his lips slightly. "yes, please… take it off."

you smirked, grabbing the hem of your top and pulling it off your body. since you were not wearing a bra, you breasts were now completely exposed under his intense gaze. his eyes darkened as he saw your boobs for the first time; they were perfect, just like the rest of you.

"have you ever touched a girl, enzo?" you questioned, a sweet tone to your voice.

he swallowed hard, his hands aching to touch you, and answered, "no, i haven't."

"don't be shy, baby," you whispered with a smile, grabbing his hands to encourage him to cup your breasts, squeezing them lightly. "like this."

enzo stared at your face closely, his eyes filled with lust as he mimicked your action, his hands squeezing both your boobs gently. his thumbs brushed against your little nipples, causing them to harden instantly.

"you're beautiful," he breathed out, completely stunned at your beauty.

you gasped slightly, your cheeks flushing as a heat wave washed over your body; your panties growing wetter by the second. the way he touched you, as if he was worshipping your body, was a huge turn on.

"thank you, baby," you muttered, squirming in his lap.

enzo moaned softly as he felt your body grinding against his hard length. he kissed along your jawline and down your neck, nipping softly as he went. you let out a cute whimper, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt his tongue lapping at one of your hard nipples and you reached up to tangle your fingers in his soft hair, caressing it tenderly; he groaned against your skin as he began to suck at the hard nub gently.

his hand moved down between your legs and he slipped his fingers underneath the fabric of your shorts and panties; you felt his digits rubbing hesitantly over your pussy, as if he didn't know what to do with them next.

"enzo," you gasped at his action, tugging at his hair tenderly. "you have never done that before, right?" you chuckled as you you caressed his face.

lorenzo blushed slightly and shook his head slowly, still teasing your sensitive skin with his fingers. his eyes locked onto yours as he whispered back, "no... i have not."

"let me show you how to do it properly, yeah?" you said with a sweet voice, grabbing his hand to pull it out of your panties.

then, you got off his lap, sitting next to him as you pushed your shorts and underwear down your legs, finally exposing your pussy. his breath hitched in his throat as he saw you completely bare for the first time. he reached out tentatively, tracing a finger along your upper thigh.

your hand moved down to cup your pussy, your fingers gently parting your slick folds to rub your swollen clit in circles, teaching him how you liked it; you couldn't help but gasp at the touch.

"just like this, see?" you asked, looking at him with glazed eyes.

enzo's eyes darkened as he watched you touch yourself; you looked so vulnerable and exposed, yet so sexy. when you withdrew your hand, he replaced your fingers with his, mirroring your movements as he started rubbing your clit in small circles.

"fuck yeah, like that..." you muttered, your breathing coming out in sharp pants as your hips bucked forward. "doing so good for me, enzo," you praised.

he groaned at your praise as he watched you writhing at his touch. his dick was rock hard in his pants and he wished more than anything that he could slide it into your tight pussy right away.

you reached next to you to push his sweatpants down his thighs, just enough to free his erection. he arched his back slightly to help you and his hard cock sprung free, standing tall against his flat stomach. you bit your lower lip, your mouth watering when you saw his dick; he was really big.

"can i touch you, baby?" you asked, your hand absentmindedly tracing patterns over his abs.

enzo's breath hitched at your touch. his abs flexed slightly under your fingertips as he nodded eagerly. when he gave you his permission, you grabbed his length in your hand gently, pumping it slowly at first.

he groaned at your touch, leaning back against the headboard as you began to stroke his cock, his fingers still rubbing your soaked pussy. his eyes were half-closed as he watched you move your hand up and down.

"that feels so good, darling," he muttered.

you moaned in response when his digits picked up speed, pressing down your swollen clit and making you squirm in pleasure. your chest raised and fell quickly as you gasped for air.

he smirked as he felt your body respond to his touch, leaning forward to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that you returned instantly. his tongue slipped inside your mouth as his hand slid down your slit, searching for your entrance; he pushed two fingers inside of you, feeling your wetness coat his digits as he began to thrust them in and out.

you whined, involuntarily breaking the contact between your lips, and your face scrunched in pleasure. your hand moved faster as it stroke his cock, your thumb teasing his tip, that was leaking precum.

he groaned, his mouth finding your neck. his free hand slid up to cup your breast, massaging it gently as he continued to finger fuck you. he was already close to cumming, all the new sensations overwhelming him, but he wanted to make it last as long as possible.

"enzo, fuck," you cursed, your pussy tightening around his fingers when you felt the coil in your belly about to snap. "such a good boy... making me feel so good."

you gasped, your pumps becoming sloppier as you approached your orgasm. enzo's breath hitched at your praising words, hips bucking against your hand, unable to contain himself any longer.

"please, love... let me inside you," he begged between breathy moans, his fingers thrusting in and out of you harder.

"how do you want me, baby?" you asked in a whisper, your lips brushing his as you spoke.

enzo nipped at his lower lip, he didn't even have to think his answer. "i want you to ride me," he muttered as he looked into your eyes, his own glazed with lust.

you gasped when he withdrew his fingers from your pussy, a smirk tugging at your lips as you said, "whatever you want, baby."

you released his cock from your grasp to climb onto his lap. enzo's breath caught in his throat when you straddled him, the sight of your wet pussy just inches from his cock making him shudder with anticipation; he almost came on the spot. his hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

you grabbed his cock and placed the tip against your entrance, slowly lowering yourself onto it. you couldn't help but moan as you took his big cock inside you. once he was fully seated within your pussy, you stood still for a moment to get used to the new intrusion.

"how does that feel, my pretty boy?" you asked, leaning in to nuzzle his neck affectionately.

he groaned, his hands moving to cup your ass as he began to instinctively thrust up into you. it felt so perfect, so right, like every inch of him belonged inside you.

"it feels so good," he whispered in your ear, his breathing ragged.

"yeah... it does," you agreed, starting to ride him slowly at first; his cock reached all the right spots inside you so easily. "it's like your dick was fucking made for me, enzo," you moan, your breathing growing uneven.

he shuddered as he bucked up into you, his fingers digging into your ass so hard that you were sure he would leave bruises. you were so fucking tight, and he was so hard, the friction almost too much for him to handle.

you smirked as you saw him so helpless underneath your body while you rode him. you reached to tug at his hair, tilting his head back to suck at his neck, leaving some hickeys, which made him moan.

"you like being deep inside my tight pussy, enzo?" you teased him.

your boobs bounced as you jumped on his cock; that sight only adding to his pleasure. you placed your hands on his chest to support yourself, seeing his eyes roll back in his head as he felt you tighten around him; he thrust up into you, hitting that perfect spot again and again.

"yeah... so fucking much," he answered, panting heavily.

"such a naughty boy..." you cooed, a smug grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "but i love it."

you looked closely at him; he was completely flustered, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

"you look so fucking pretty underneath me, enzo," you complimented him

he groaned, sliding one hand down to rub against your clit roughly, the other one still holding onto your ass.

"don't stop, please." he breathed out, his hips lifting up to meet every downward thrust of yours.

"you close, pretty boy?" you asked him, watching his face attentively as he nodded in response. "you gonna be a good boy and hold it in for me, yeah?" you ordered with a soft voice.

he whimpered, biting his lip harshly. his cock throbbed inside you, aching for release, but his thumb did not stop rubbing circles on your clit; the sensation of his dick pounding into you together with the stimulation on your clit making you weak on the knees.

"yes... I'll be good for you."

"that's my boy," you praised him, struggling to keep up the pace while riding him since your legs had started shaking from the pleasure. "you gonna make me cum, baby." you breathed out, moaning loudly.

you hand had a conscience of its own and moved up to grasp at his neck, applying light pressure on it. enzo's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, your grip limiting his air flow very slightly, but enough to make it pleasurable.

"oh fuck! i'm cumming," he moaned, gritting his teeth.

"hold it," you commanded, your voice harder that time. "you won't cum until i do."

he moaned in frustration, shaking his head as his hips jerked up into you. "please... i can't."

"just a minute, baby, i'm almost there," you promised, whimpering while your pussy started clenching around his cock as your orgasm built up.

you kept riding him until you finally fell over the edge, letting out a long string of soft moans and whimpers while your whole body shook. you leaned into his body, your hands gripping at his skin as pleasure washed over you.

"oh gods, enzo," you moaned, "you can cum now, baby."

as soon as you gave him permission, he came with a loud whimper, almost a cry, shooting his thick cum inside you in long spurts, your pussy milking his cock as both of your rode out your highs, holding onto each other tightly.

he panted, leaning his forehead against yours, his heartbeat slowing down as he tried to catch his breath.

"that was amazing."

"pretty good for a first time, huh?" you chuckled, out of breath too, while caressing his back and shoulders; your bodies were completely pressed together.

"fuck yeah... let's do it again," he laughed, grabbing your hips to push you onto the mattress; your body bounced slightly.

"enzo!" you giggled, but your playful laugh soon turned into a moan when your best friend buried his head between your legs.

you had definitely created a monster... you weren't complaining, though.

[prettycottagequeer]

ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)

SO these I should start on asap:

50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make

100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week

150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)

200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)

these can wait longer:

300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect

500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)

1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks

2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.

Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese

here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)

How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks

I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.

that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.

the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.

On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started

[shotmrmiller]

response to this but it got so long and ig im in my throuple era rn

@xoxunhinged i listened to one (1) song on repeat while writing this on the phone

okay yeah wait or just

it's ghost x price first.

Big burly men taking up too much space in the little coffee shop you work at or something and they're there like clockwork too. Every wednesday and friday, 8 am, usually the first clients of the day and all they order is a regular cup of joe. Plain. You offer alternative sweeteners, powdered creamer, but no dice.

Plain black. Like the occasional smudge of eyeliner(?) around the bigger one's eyes.

They're cute, in their own way. John is a blend of rugged charm and seasoned wisdom. The other, Simon, is mysterious. Guarded. Speaks only to his companion.

The pet names start to get to your head. Of course, you reason that John's just not from around here. His calling you sweetheart from across the room to grab your attention must be English.

But logic cannot stop the heat from licking up your cheeks when he does. or when Simon calls you something different altogether eventually.

"Mornin', pet."

It's even more gut-twisting when you catch glimpses of the occasional PDA: A large hand curling around an even bigger jean-clad thigh. Faces so close they could kiss (Waterboarding couldn't get the fact that you've rubbed your thighs together at the thought of them actually kissing out of you) and the fact that Simon's usually sharp gaze softens around the edges, pale gold whispering against the puckered pink of a barely visible scar beneath his face mask.

A couple. They're a couple. It's bittersweet, that feeling settling in your chest. Like dark chocolate coating your tongue. Honeyed nectar of love, the bitter bite of it not being your own.

Maybe it's time to go out with your friends to the bar.

Things take a nasty turn when Simon, out of the both of them, had come in alone and propositioned you on crisp, saturday morning.

Oh, the acid in your stomach felt like it was corroding the walls of your esophagus as it rose. You don't remember much of what you said but it'd been loud, vitriolic. You'd been so furious. Hurt that they had something so sweet, something they could call their own, and here comes this big dumb oaf looking for a piece of warm meat to stick his cock into on the side.

Your manager sent you home for the day.

And home you were headed, well more like the bus stop, stomping away and across the street but the hand that wraps around your arm to keep you in place is John's. (You'd been actually fighting to get away and he hadn't even tightened his grip enough to hurt. embarrassing.)

He clears things up. Tells you to forgive Simon, he's not the most verbose or eloquent with the words he does choose to speak. "He's good at receivin' orders instead of givin' 'em. isn't tha' righ'?"

The "yes, sir" that comes out of Simon is immediate. Obedient. Submissive. (gagging, i actually slammed the desk with my fist rn) A man who knows his place because it is etched in stone. Your teeth grind like rusted gears to keep from turning into a pool of liquid in broad daylight.

"What he meant," he roughly clarifies, "is that we would like you to share our bed." your face burns hot enough to sting. "If you want," John continues, limpid blue eyes fixed on your own.

He looks rather handsome in his uncertainty.

They don't even let you go home to wash and clean up when you nod. (Or shave. Simon had very audibly scoffed at your complaint about that. Said something crass about eating lollipops off the carpet)

The dynamic had been exactly what you'd expected it to be in the bedroom. When authority spoke, Simon listened. Intently. Without hesitation. When John ordered Simon— who'd sat with his broad chest curling around your spine, cocooning you in warmth and the faint scent of smoke, mahogany, and leather— to hook his hands behind your knees and pull your legs up to your shoulders, he'd done so in an instant.

The subtle burn of your hamstrings stretching pulled a hiss from your kiss-swollen lips.

"Bit o' pain with pleasure never hurt anyone, eh, sweetheart?" The deepened rumble of John's voice vibrated in your chest and made your toes curl.

Simon's steady breaths are drowned out by your shuddering ones when John puts his mouth on you, the prickle of his facial hair tickling your sensitive, heated skin.

The burning stretch of your muscles is nothing compared to the sweet sting of two fingers sinking into your hot sex. Pleasure wells in the corner of your eyes when he curls and scissors them while his slick tongue swirls your clit languidly.

He sends you over the edge with practiced ease, shaky limbs, and unsteady mewls. The kiss he plants on your still pulsing cunt is tender, as are your now unrestrained legs.

And he slants his lips-- still dripping slick, dewy beads collecting on his beard-- over Simon's whose mask is now long gone, his erection coming to sit heavy on the fatty mound of your pussy. You can feel the heat of his cock even through his clothes.

A saliva strand connecting them two snaps as he pulls away, glancing down to look at you, sweaty and unkempt, glassy eyes shamelessly staring back.

"I'd let Simon get his turn but," hands weave up your shirt and inside your sports bra while John's grab your legs and wrap them around his thick waist, "gotta prep ya first."

(?)

That comes back to mind after your limbs feel like cold syrup, warmth dribbling from your puffy lips and falling onto the damp bedsheets beneath your arse cheeks.

The question answers itself when Simon slots himself between your aching legs, uncut cock fat and hefty.

(dis)Respectfully, you feel thoroughly used and even now, that doesn't look like it's going to go in easy.

"Easy, love," John's voice comes from above you, "He won't hurt ya. Isn't tha' righ', Simon?"

Simon, who's dark eyes hadn't moved from where John's spend still steadily flowed, cut to him instantly. "Yes, sir."

He hums, a low, raspy sound. "How 'bout you tell our bird tha'?"

A rough hand wraps around your neck, thumb pressed on your fluttering pulse. "I won't hurt ya." His grip tightens, and the swoosh of blood roaring in your ears is deafening.

Much.

The world around you fades, senses attuned only to what's currently wrenching your swollen walls apart, going in, in, and in, it feels never-ending, it's so much, too much, until--

Your stomach clenches, it feels like it's folding in on itself, and a sharp feeling radiates below your navel.

Lips kiss your sweaty temple. "That's all there is. Did so well, eh, sweetheart? Took 'im real good, like you were meant for it."

His cock drags along your over-sensitive, raw nerves in a way that has fire licking up your spine as he pulls back. "Easy, Simon. You'll get your fun from me," John assures.

Your cunt clenches unbidden at that, vise-like around Simon who quietly groans.

The first roll of his hips pushes the air from your lungs, the second blanks your jumbled mind, the third has your nails sinking into whoever's forearms are beside your head, and the fourth has you confusing John's glittering eyes with stars.

And then he places your feet flat on his chest, his weight folding you in half, pinning you in place. Nowhere to run.

Your teeth clack when he thrusts firmly, tip of his cock sitting firmly against the plug of your womb.

"Easy does it, love. Jus' be good 'n take it," John mutters into your ear.

As if you had any choice.

After, when you're completely spent, they tell you to lay back, head propped up by a mountain of pillows, but to keep your legs open, let them see that pretty pussy, they want to see their cum spill out of you.

You thought the fucking Simon gave you had been rough. What John gives him from behind is attempted murder. He grabs at Simon's hair like it's the scruff of a bellicose dog. Pins him in place with his words, growled, thunderous, then his grip. Simon doesn't bare his crooked teeth once.

When your tired hand slithers down to between your legs, tips of your fingers smearing cum around your swollen flesh, arousal surprisingly panging deep in your core, the sheer force of John's thrusts rocks the bed with enough force to crack the wall and Simon whines like a dog in heat.

[selarina]

continuation to this

so, that night gojo satoru leaves with no jacket and half a broken heart and for the first time since he was 12 years old, he takes a sip of alcohol as he slouches against his home bar.

it's bitter, and it tastes a bit too much like soy sauce for his liking but he sips and sips until he sees the engraved "S.G" inscription at the bottom of his glass.

"hello, husband," a voice comes from behind him, interrupting his sob fest.

and for a moment, for dumb little moment, he thinks it's you. the voice sounds nothing like you though, it's far too high-pitched, but he's dreamt of this far too much for him to imagine someone else calling him husband.

aya tsukino materialises next to him, and seats herself on a seat beside him. she moves with a certain a quiet sleekness that he barely caught her moving from behind him. or maybe, he's finally out of it. "excited for the wedding, then?" she deadpans as she pours herself a drink.

"thrilled," he parrots back, merely a barren echo of emotions.

there's more truth in this room than there's been in your shared room for weeks. because it's simple really— gojo doesn't want to marry her, and aya couldn't care less as long as she got the money his family had.

before they had even exchanged any words, it was clear that they had this silent agreement that the two of them had little to do with love and everything to do with societal expectations and status.

as gojo attempts to take another sip from his empty company, he can't help but replay the events of the evening in his mind. your anger, and the way you stood up for the love you believed in. it'll haunt him for the rest of his life.

he wonders if you'll genuinely come to understand that he did have you in mind when he left you. he doesn't want you to be a mistress, a dirty little secret. he's seen how it broke his mother apart. how could he wish the same fate upon you knowing how his mother's life ended?

you're strong, and he believes you will persist and he will see at the end of his life sleeping grey and old in his bed as he stares at the way the sunlight hits your laugh lines.

but he also remembers the way you cried in secret. he never brought it up, he never brings it up. he was just waiting for the day you'd be comfortable enough to cry in front of him but for now, he settles for meaningless presents he brings afterwards to wipe off the blue from your face.

he places his glass down with a clink, and he hears a resembling clink from aya. "i'll ask you this only once, gojo satoru," she speaks up. "do you want this marriage?"

"i never wanted this marriage," his reply is immediate.

"of course not," she says. "i meant, do you still want to go through with this?"

he doesn't respond. the both of them know the answer to that, it's written all too clearly on his soppy little face.

"what if i don't," he finally speaks. "what about your money? your status?"

"my money..." she feigns to ponder. "as someone who's always sought out money, i can tell you one thing about it. money, it comes and it goes. i'll find another way as i always do," she says. "i will be fine."

"your father—"

"—is a terrible man, who will go on his pissy campaign against me but i hope it's not presumptuous of me to expect you to come to defence when needed. you know, for all the trouble?"

he chuckles with no mirth. seems trouble is all he's capable of causing the past few days. "of course," he responds.

aya smiles, she supposes there's one benefit of having the strongest sorcerer as her ex-fiancé. she stands up, as she pulls her coat snug against her body as she prepares to leave. "besides, you're not the only rich high-status man in town, you know?"

"well, they're not all me," he replies. his smug demeanour returning to him like it's breathing a new life into him.

"wow, a bonus too," she chuckles.

"and who was that handsome man with you on friday? blonde, glasses, chiselled like a—"

"nanami kento," he replies with a grin.

"nanami kento. is he rich?"

"not as rich as you," he replies. it's true. he's rich, he worked on wall street after all and nanami is a smart man, he has so much in his savings account, it's enough to feed an entire nuclear family. why he saves up is something that's beyond gojo.

"well, he's handsome. tell mr. kento i said hello," she smiles facetiously.

"tsk, fine." he grins again. "get out of here."

-

it's been a week since you heard about the wedding falling apart. and since, you've been hearing about it daily, almost hourly if you're being honest. after all, you're at the centre of it. it only makes sense.

there's a whole slew of narratives running around, cheating, money laundering, even murder. but the most popular one was about how aya was the rosaline to your romeo and juliet. gojo's as romeo as he comes — handsome, influential and maybe a bit endearingly dumb but you fail to see how you're juliet. she was rich, influential, beautiful — everything you've been starkly reminded that you are not.

but everyone's talking about the romance of it all and you haven't heard from gojo himself so it's strange to take their words to mind or heart. you ignore them, forming a ready-made response sheet in your head to every possible question you encounter across the week. they become white noise, as you go through your day like a pre-programmed robot.

but that changes on a hot, dusty afternoon as you're sitting in a cafe, awaiting a man you were advised against seeing, and he's late. of course, he's fucking late. he broke up with you and he has the audac—

he walks in. he looks exhausted, lankier than usual, and there's a cruel part of you that likes it. to know he looks as miserable as you've been seeing. there's the other, familiar part of you that wants to run your fingers against his sensitive eyes as you feed him with the warmth of the diner's food.

but you do neither, you neither smile nor frown. you sit in place as you wait for him to come and sit opposite you.

"hey," his voice sounds gravelly. "i'm sorry i'm late."

"nothing i'm not used to," you reply with a glare as you cross your arms.

his hands reach for the menu as he plays with the edges of the paper. he always orders the same breakfast meal from this place. he must be nervous.

"i... i wanted to talk to you," he starts. "i want you back."

"excuse me? you can't just—"

"i'm willing to do anything. anything. if you want to take it slow, i understand. if you want to take your time, i understand. if you want me to get down on my knees and beg, i understa—"

"do it."

his eyes widen, you can tell — even though the black glasses are blocking his eyes, you can tell. it only lasts for a split second, because you blink with contempt and he's beside you. on his knees, as he stares up at you. he barely stares up at you — he's so tall, he's almost eye-to-eye with you. but even so he hunches his back, makes himself small.

"i'm sorry," he says again, as he takes off his glasses placing it onto the table in front of you. his eyes are alarmingly blood-red, and it takes every muscle in your body to hold back from running your fingers over his. "like i said, i'll do anything. just pleas— take me back."

you stare, and he stares back at you. you're too lost in the way he looks at you — at your mercy — that you miss the strange and baffled looks from people around you. and when you finally do, your cheeks flush with heat.

"okay," you say. " please, get up now."

"no, let me— let me stay," he says. pleads. "just let me stay until you take me back."

"fine," you sigh, as if there was any real objection from your side. "get up now."

"really?" his blood-red eyes gleam, you could almost see a tinge of the vibrant blue coming back to life.

"yes," you groan as your hand grip his elbow. "i was willing to be your fucking mistress. did you really thin— i would say— mmpph"

and just like that he's up, sliding next to you on your seat, as he kisses you. you're ashamed to admit that your first thought was the idea of getting kicked out for public indecency but your second thought was about how you think you could stay like this forever. despite the public gawking at you through mean and baffled stares.

"i'm serious about doing whatever it takes," he says, sincerity laced in his voice. "you shouldn't let me get away with this lightly."

you smile. "I hope you mean it," you reply. "and i won't. i’ll make you work for it, just a little."

he nods with a smile, "anything. i'll make it up to you."

"you have to do the chicken dance," you say, seriously and firmly.

"what?"

"you have to do the chicken dance. right now in the middle of the diner and i'm taking a video," you pull out your phone. "and... i'm sending it to nobara."

his eyes widen, almost like he's feeling actual fear. "not nobara," he gasps. "but she's so mean, baby."

"well, you said anything."

he sighs. gojo looks around the crowded diner, his tall frame rigid and tense. he glances at you, then at your phone, and finally resigns himself to the absurd request.

"fine," he mutters, standing up from the seat as he begins flapping his arms and doing a clumsy version of the chicken dance in the middle of the diner.

[prael]

Red Wine - Karina & Natty

Aespa Karina x Kiss of Life Natty x M Reader smut

thanks to @capslocked & @passingnotions & @friskyriskywhisky

Masterlist word count: 9,957 Kofi

A new girl every week.

Not like you mind it. As long as Karina is having a good time, then that's enough for you. She meets them all at work, and they're all equally pretty.

Of course they are—it's part of the job.

It's just how Karina is—she has always been a fountain of charisma and that's part of what drew you to her—some call it rizz. So, you know all too well how these girls feel when Karina cranks up that natural charm and it leads to her inevitably inviting them over on a Friday evening, an offer they can’t refuse.

A girl's night in. That's what she always calls it—truth or not.

It's a funny thing to call it, given that you're always there. Not that any of them ever complain. You're there. That's okay. You'll join in the chat or stay out of the way—it's all very casual. Most of the time, it’s just that—casual.

Most of the time.

"And then I told him: 'Look, this dress is Dior, and it's worth a year of your rent. So if you think, even for a second, that it's going to end up on your bedroom floor after you buy me a couple of glasses of bottom-shelf whiskey then you can Johnnie-Walk-the-fuck-on-out-of-here because there are a thousand more ways I can spend my night than wasting time on you.'"

The two girls break out into some sort of intoxicated, riotous laughter. The girl with the story? They call her Natty, and she is the latest of Karina's new friends to visit. This one sporting almond skin, eyes with an inky rich hue, thick lips and a smug look on her face that could melt the paint right off the wall, or the clothes off any man.

She has one leg crossed over the other, sitting at an angle towards Karina. The slight canting of her head, the way her black hair cascades over a bare shoulder, all of it conspires together in order to fully reveal her neck line where the loose t-shirt drapes from shoulder to shoulder.

"Yeah, like any dude's got enough bank to buy himself to a night with you." Karina laughs again before taking a drink from her wine.

You are trying to watch the TV, vaguely—your favourite team is on and it's a bit of a ritual for you.

You will never even know we're here. That's what Karina told you. Yet you’ve spent the better part of the last hour listening to them. We’ll be quiet.

As if that's ever true.

They've been reeling off anecdotes all the while, and if you've learned one thing about Natty, it's that she has a lot to say, and a lot if it comes down to either the pleasures, profits, or travails of her career. The stories just keep coming. And each and every one is punctuated by that same laugh from Natty. You have never heard anything quite like it before, and it's that which keeps drawing your attention back to their end of the couch. Much like her voice, it's high pitched, a little nasally and utterly adorable.

Karina laughs along as well; more than a few times a drink threatens to spill onto the carpet because one of them has laughed a little too hard or bumped into one another. Now that would be a disaster: red wine and a white carpet.

"So I got this really nice pink one. It's really pretty, a little sexy, but it's so comfy too." Natty is talking but you don't have a clue what about and Karina, turned away from you, is nodding her head, the ponytail on the back of her head shaking a little as a result.

You don't need to see Karina to know how she looks—as beautiful as ever. That same sharp jaw, high cheekbones and lips glistening pink, hued darker by her drink of choice. Those eyes. It’s always her eyes that captivate.

Her beauty and grace are two things she truly does share with Natty. All the women that come over are all part of the same constellation. Stars in their own right, but Karina is a supernova—or something equally poetic.

Karina says something, but the voice is soft and muffled and lost to you among the animated exchange.

"There's also this blue one. But I don't wear it nearly as much as the others, but it cuts real low. Nearly shows my, you know..."

That lowered voice draws your gaze right over to them both as Natty leans in towards the woman next to her. A gesture and the shape of her voice, the lilt of her accent, makes it sound as if she is being discreet even though you can clearly hear every single word.

"...you know." Natty then tugs a little at her own shirt.

The two giggle again as if they're not grown-ass women; two women who have admittedly drunk quite a lot.

"He loves this one I have, it's part of a set, and I picked it up in Paris last month,” Karina says. “Black and lacy. Super expensive, but it's so worth it."

"That pair would look good in anything," Natty lets out that same laugh again, if a little softer this time, as if the mood shifted a little. You felt this coming all along. If you're honest, sometimes as soon as Karina walks through the door with a girl on her arm, there’s a certain vibe that hangs in the air that tells you it’s one of those nights.

You're stealing glances at the two of them, and it's Natty who's looking towards you, over Karina's shoulder. Your eyes are caught in this awkward collision. Natty holds the stare, her smile shifting subtly from innocent to devilish.

She's a stunner. Even from the angle where you're catching glimpses at her, a glance out of the corner of your eye, there is something seductive and hypnotising.

"He's a really lucky guy." She says to Karina, keeping her eyes fixed on you.

That is usually the cue, one you're very familiar with. A flirty little comment, maybe an innuendo, something meant to test the waters—see where the land lies, the rocks you can stand on before stepping any further out into the surf. It's how so many of your Friday evenings play out. You are just that—an object of curiosity and interest to Karina's friends, and you have to credit the sales pitch she must deliver about you.

"You're damn right," Karina replies with a chuckle as she tilts back the remainder of her drink.

"Do you think he would like mine?"

"Of course, he would. But if you want, I can be the judge." Karina takes Natty's almost empty glass and sets both down on the table. Her expression and attitude—lips and body language—communicate her invitation far more eloquently.

Karina is reaching over and Natty's meeting her hands with her own at the hem of her shirt. A teasing lift and you can already envision what she's about to show. See, Natty's a dancer—you know that much, and a good one at that. That kind of talent comes with the blessing of a body that turns heads. Your girlfriend knew that well too when she had invited her back home.

"Go on then."

The shirt lifts off Natty's skin, with the help of Karina’s hands running up the side of her body, exposing a pierced belly button. You try, very valiantly, to pretend not to be watching, but you can't help it. Natty raises her arms and lets Karina pull off the shirt fully revealing her in her lace bralette. It's pink, it's pretty and a little sexy—just how she described it.

"They really are nice, wow," Karina leans in close and for a moment you think she's going to start kissing Natty right then and there.

Natty doesn't say a thing. She lets the next moment happen, and with their bodies so close you can feel the anticipation, there’s an agonising pause, but, just a moment later, Karina is running a hand up along her belly, cupping a hand over one of her breasts.

"Really nice," Karina repeats the compliment.

And you're all in now. Fuck the TV. You can't peel your eyes away from whatever the hell your girlfriend is about to do.

"Thank you," the girl purrs as she arches her body to push herself against Karina's hand.

A flirtatious hand and those slender fingers of hers begin to move delicately over the fabric. It's a good touch. You've experienced first-hand all the wonderful things Karina can do with it. She touches how she dances—passionate and precise.

"What do you think?" Karina's finally acknowledging you over her shoulder—your official invite to the fun.

"Gorgeous," you mumble, and Natty's smiling like a minx as Karina continues in a way that you should probably be offended. Your girlfriend runs her hands down to the girl's waist, round to the small of her back, and then all the way back to where she starts again.

"Come, take a closer look. What do you think?" Natty follows her words with a wink and a flick of the hair.

"Fuck yes." You whisper under your breath.

"What was that?" Your girlfriend's smirking to herself as you rise from your seat.

"Yes." You take a step towards them both.

"Yes?" Natty repeats, one of her dark brows arching.

"He thinks you're fucking beautiful, sweetheart. Gets a little lost in the moment sometimes." Karina is leaning her head in close, one arm around the girl. She has a finger running up along Natty's slender back as she pulls at the clips holding her bra together. "Isn’t she perfect, babe?"

"Something like that," you confess. You're standing in front of the girls, looking down at the topless Natty, at Karina who's still snaking her hands around her. And Natty looks up at you, eyes wide, inviting, smouldering with passion. She really is something else.

She peers beneath those bangs of hers with a look that says: why don't you sit right here beside me?

"There we go," Karina says and there's suddenly some slack. The weight of her pair is taken by gravity and Natty catches them into folded arms. She sinks back into the couch. You take a step, and taking her lead, you sit by her side.

Karina reaches down, pats you on your leg, then turns back to face Natty. "You were saying you thought he was pretty cute too, weren't you, Natty?"

"Pretty cute, yes. Hot too. Moreso now that he’s up close." Natty says while Karina's got her hands on her shoulders, taking the straps of her bra between her delicate fingers. And then her bra is gone—the last semblance of her modesty lost along with it. Her small nipples jutting, stiffened with arousal, ready and waiting.

"God, he's practically drooling."

"That's hot," Karina comments as her lips descend onto Natty's shoulder and she starts laying kisses up and along her neck, trailing all the way to her ears.

"Sit behind her, babe, let her make it easier for you," Karina says. There is something entirely different and erotic in the way your girlfriend commands you. It’s so often like this, the dynamic, the guest and you are equals but Karina? Karina is a level above, the one in control and setting the pace.

You move yourself further onto the sofa and seat yourself back, then Natty slides over your lap. She takes her place, just as Karina wants, in front of you. The look in your lover's eye tells you exactly what to do, while her hands give Natty some hands-on guidance. Holding her shoulders, she’s placing Natty’s back against your chest. 

You lay your own touch on the starlet’s waist, coiling them around her body. Dragging them up towards her smooth tits causes her to respond with a shudder. You keep your touches slow, leisurely, tentative and exploratory, but with no lack of appreciation.

Natty refuses to shy and settles firmly into your body. Karina, meanwhile, sets herself in front of the two of you, resting her hands on Natty's knees. Your beautiful guest parts her legs a little as Karina slips her hands between them, urging her thighs to open wider. Wider until she has to lift her legs over yours.

"Is this okay with you?" Karina is looking up into Natty's face and the woman simply nods."How does she feel?" Karina's asking you now, placing her hands on the back of yours, guiding your touch over her breast into a rougher pace.

"Perfect." The word slips from your mouth, followed by a throaty groan. Among all of this, Natty's ass is against your crotch, the weight of her pushing your manhood to swell and strain against your clothing. You are thankful she's wearing a thin enough pair of yoga pants that enhances it all.

Karina has planted her knees between yours and Natty's legs. She's pulling her own shirt over her head and you already know what's beneath. For all the talk earlier about bras, Karina isn't wearing one; she never does. "Fuck, Karina," Natty coos at her bare chest. "He likes it too. I can feel him twitching."

Natty’s hands are all over Karina as she pulls her in. There’s grace, there’s tension and there’s a coy giggle from Karina as their lips are only inches apart. The hammering of your heart echoes within as you take a front-row seat to their show. It always triggers something inside you when she first lays lips on someone, it always heightens that delicious, tingling, primal feeling.

"Oh shit, girls..."

Your girlfriend's the best kisser and you love watching her like this—exploring another woman's mouth. Natty is matching her tempo beat by beat, kiss by kiss. Her body arches as you squeeze her breasts. You swear Natty's making little whimpers as the two make out.

Her body is all action against you: ass grinding back, rolling slowly and languidly as your hands pull at her breasts—squeezing them together and then apart. You dip into her neck with your mouth. The sweetness of her skin fills your mouth and the richness of her perfume fills your nose.

You lower your lips and gently nibble at her neck, dragging teeth over her flesh until she gasps from a gentle bite and you work your lips on her skin. Tongue roaming as you feast on her taste. Karina's pushing forward now, Natty sandwiched between you, their pairs of tits pressing together with your hands somewhere between.

They break, and Natty naturally moves to your girlfriend’s neck. Karina has her sights set on you, prying your mouth from Natty's shoulder and catching you in a deep kiss. Tongues battling, clashing. There's the familiar fading taste of red wine in her mouth, and the unmistakable flavour of something foreign to you, the lingering taste of Natty.

She pulls away from your lips, staring down the two of you. There's dissatisfaction on her face. "Why aren't the two of you naked yet?"

She pulls at Natty's hips, relieving your cock of the pressure of her sitting on it, and you hold Natty so as to not let her slip too far away. You and Karina work Natty's yoga pants, and her panties, from her hips. They slip effortlessly down to her ankles, leaving her decidedly bare.

No one speaks and you all know this isn't the time to explain anything or ask questions. When her clothing is out of the way Karina descends upon Natty again, kissing her hard and you catch the dying whimpers of Natty's moans into Karina's lips. Karina's hand is snaking down Natty's back, reaching for your crotch. She unbuckles and opens your belt all the time fighting against Natty's movement as she tries to grind her ass back into you.

"Stop moving." Karina giggles into their kiss as her hand delves beneath your trousers. She breaks her kiss again. "Need some help."

Natty's peeling herself away from you, turning to face you. Natty's naked, Karina's halfway there, you're the one slacking. Not for long. Soon the two are tugging away all the unnecessary clothes until all three of you are equally exposed. Your cock stands heavy and ready under their gaze.

"Woah, you weren't lying." Natty's figuratively licking her lips, hungry and wide-eyed, and you'd bet your last dollar she's got an idea in mind. "Can I...?" Natty turns to ask Karina.

"I'd hate to be selfish." Karina shrugs her shoulders and winks. You're transfixed. There's natural magic about the way they move as if it is rehearsed; the way Natty sinks to her knees and the way Karina pulls your hips to the edge of the seat, then rises above you.

Karina hovers and watches, Natty leans in, and then your balls disappear into her mouth. She’s handling them with her tongue expertly as she takes hold of your cock.

"God, what a pro. She wasn’t lying when she told me she knew her way around a cock," she exclaims, savouring every second as the air rapidly leaves your lungs.

It is beyond explanation, the way Natty's tongue is dancing along the underside of your balls as her lips caress each one. Her eyes occasionally flick up and flash mischievously—it's the kind of look that means she could get away with absolutely anything, and there is no way you are going to stop her.

"She's got the face for it, doesn't she? Like she just gives the most amazing head." Karina's on her knees by your side, sliding a hand between her thighs.

"Y-yeah." You manage to reply. "S-so... ahh! Good."

Karina leans forward, cupping one of your cheeks as she looks into your eyes.

"He's speechless!" She laughs, moving a hand to the back of your head and tugging gently at the strands. "Natty baby, give him a few words or something, will you? If you can?"

It's hard to look at her, but you crane your neck and you catch her looking at you again—one hand upon your inner thigh, the other wrapped around your shaft. "That's a good boy," Natty murmurs.

She teases a thumb over the surface of your glistening wet tip. "She loves that shit. Watch her..." Karina explains, smiling, the delight on her face all you can look at for a moment or more.

She guides your chin and you follow your girlfriend's direction, then you see, Natty's taken her mouth from you for a second and she's licking your pre-cum from her thumb; her gaze on the pair of you. She repeats her motion once more and the grin on her face grows bigger as you leak another pearl for her.

"How does he taste?" Karina asks for both of you.

"Delicious." Natty answers—now she's literally licking her lips.

You'll believe anything this woman tells you.

She's running a teasing tongue along the underside of your shaft, and as she reaches the peak, she catches the snow-white trickle you drip right there. You close your eyes in ecstasy, but before long, you’re feeling a finger poke against your lips.

You part them open, letting Karina's two fingers inside, and she's running her digits over your tongue as you suck her fingertips. The taste is so undoubtedly her, nectar straight from her source, your mouth salivating for more.

The feel of Natty's soft plump lips against the end of your cock is incredible as she moves them in an inch, teasing, testing, and then she withdraws just the same and you want to cry out. But you can't, Karina still lubricating her fingers, your tongue swirling around the digits.

She withdraws and your eyes open. And as much as you wanted to see Natty ready to settle her mouth around your cock, she's got something else in mind. She has her tits in her hand. "Are they still gorgeous?"

"Yeah, totally," you sputter.

"Natty girl, let him fuck them." Karina tells her and then she turns to you, mouth to your ear. "You want your cock between them, don't you? Tell her." Karina's not leaving this up to interpretation. "Tell her you want them."

"Oh yes..." you blurt out, without even really thinking. Karina giggles—it's her sign of approval, a tick. "Your tits, Natty. Fuck. Please."

It's not something you haven't done before. You love Karina's pair too, after all. It would be hard for anyone with a dick to resist a pair of round tits like hers. Luckily for you, tonight she's brought you a girl with a pair to match her own.

"He asked so nicely."

"He's a real gentleman," Natty teases and she raises her breasts a little, then pushes them together. As your head slides into her cleavage, she puts her hand around them, and as the skin squeezes the sides of your member, you are reduced to shuddering. Karina knows exactly how this gets you, knows just how this can bring you undone. It doesn't even matter if the actual thing feels nothing like sex—you'll always go crazy over a great pair of tits.

As the tip of your manhood peeks out through the crease between them, Natty lowers her tongue to it and you swear you nearly cum right then. Then the words echo inside your brain: he wants them, Karina's voice and as soon as she says it, your subconscious concedes to the reality.

"Look how easy and willing he is," she says to Karina and both girls giggle, then Natty forms a mock pout. "Such a good boy. I really want to make him feel good."

"He does deserve something." Your girlfriend runs her fingers into your hair as Natty plants a soft kiss onto your cock-head. Instinctively, you reach out but before you can touch anything, Karina's hand finds your wrist. "Tell her what you want."

She's leaning in closer again and Natty looks up from where she's teasing your tip, sucking, tonguing and lavishing affection and attention. "Ask Natty nice. Tell her you want a blowjob. Tell her you want to cum. Tell her what you want," Karina purrs her words.

And god, if anything makes it impossible to think straight, it is Natty's gaze up at you. She wants to make it easy for you, impossible to do anything but give in to your wishes, whether it’s her intention or your deep-seated desire making it seem so.

"Natty... can you suck my cock?" Your mouth's dry and the words grate in the throat.

"Anything," she says with a twinkle in her eye. And now it's all one motion. Her tits clamped against the sides of your length. Your cock drives between them and into Natty's waiting mouth. She's all tongue, bobbing her head a little and taking the tip of you in and out of her mouth.

Karina's all over you—kissing your neck, holding a hand behind your head, caressing, squeezing. "Aren't I just the best? Always doing this for you with all these girls." She's muttering away in your ear. The heat of her breath is constant and burning. She continues with sweet nothings in her deep, sultry voice.

You're sinking deeper into the couch, like you're laid on the shore and the tide is enveloping you. Wave after wave crashing against you, rolling, engulfing you and drawing you out further and further. Natty is pulling you under; every time she takes you into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around you, it's another wave over you. Karina is a life rope. You're grabbing onto the strands of her ponytail, trying to keep your head above the water. All her touches, her words, her encouragement, that's the air you need.

But the torrent grows ever more intense and powerful and the riptide is too great, Natty's drawing the last vestiges of resolve from you. You lose grip of everything—of reality.

You're lost.

Lost in her mouth, lost between her tits.

Karina knows it, she's seen it all before, so many times, for her and others. "Feel like you're gonna cum?" Karina's in your ear asking you the obvious.

Your answer's a growl.

"Cum!" It's a low-roar in your ear.

You don't say a word.

"All over those perfect fucking tits. Her mouth, her face, look at her," and then that's it. You're drowning in pleasure. Every sense abandons you—hearing, touch, and sight, all surrendered.

You can't think or do anything, because every fibre of your being is focused on a single action—pouring out cum. You're rigid and straining.

Your eyes regain focus and you see it all. All of it smearing her tits and just a little on her face, and then more streams erupt. Natty doesn't shy and she doesn't stop. She is milking you for every single drop.

And Karina's ever the encourager, ever full of pride. "Just like that, yes. Empty all of it right there on her chest."

This is her thing now. Has been for a while, ever since she convinced you to try it just one time. Her imagination was fueled by all those dirty little stories she read online about voyeurism and the like. It opened her eyes and redefined your relationship. It started with an experiment. With her best friend, Winter, all those months ago. It was the first time she took enjoyment in her friend getting you off.

Now it's a regular surprise. Sometimes they're girls you met many times before, almost like she was dangling them in front of you, teasing you. Other times it's just like Natty. You barely say a few words to them and before you know it, you're covering them in your cum.

Truth is, you always get the gut feeling when it's one of these nights, as soon as Karina and whichever girl it is start their first drinks of the night; you know it's one of those nights. Then it's just a case of waiting.

Natty didn't take long to get on her knees—she must have been excited.

And lucky for her, you're nowhere near being finished.

Karina is prowling and on the move, towards Natty, and she reaches her with both arms as she locks her into her grasp. A kiss, deep, hungry. All tongue. Seeing is believing; some of you ended up inside Natty’s mouth and now she’s sharing, distributing to Karina. Back and forth it goes between their mouths, with some spilling from their lips. As it’s shared, it’s swallowed bit by bit between them.

"Your turn Natty. I want to watch you cum for me." Karina announces she breaks away, then lapping up what remains on her lips and she has a hand on Natty's chest, playing with the mess you made of them.

You're lying there, spent and watching, as Karina guides Natty to her feet.

"There you go," Karina is pushing the girl towards the couch and she gets to the edge, then places a knee on it. Your eyes drift over her body as Karina bends her into place, her sticky chest planted against the cushions. Her juicy ass is in the air and the light in the room highlights every line and contour. Her flawless curves are accentuated to their perfect best.

"Legs wider, yes, yes. That's perfect," Karina's voice cuts through the air. She's behind her, hand on the small of her back, urging Natty into position. Lower and lower, Natty's head pressed into the cushion; she's turning to look at you, face full of excitement, of yearning.

A quiver passes through her entire body as Karina's lips descend upon her lower back.

Then lower, kissing her tailbone.

Her ass.

Lower and lower, peppering her skin along the way, Karina finally nestles between the two cheeks. Then she places her hands on Natty and starts parting them. "Perfect. Isn't that so perfect?"

Karina doesn't wait for any reply from you.

She doesn't need to. You are fixed there, utterly mesmerised, entranced and completely undisturbed, watching this gorgeous woman lay tongue on her newest conquest. Karina, meanwhile, can't contain her excitement. She's feasting on Natty, lapping at her sex, diving lower and lower with her tongue. "Oh yes. You taste so good."

Everybody's taste is unique. Just as her aroma earlier was something you couldn't put into words or compare, you can only imagine how sweet Natty must taste. And as if she reads your mind, Karina adds to the narrative, "So sweet."

And the sounds.

Fuck. The sounds. 

Natty moans, loud, sharp and high. You should have known it, her voice being what it is—the tone; so unique, so unmissable. You should have expected the melodic composition. The pleasure is pure, crystal-clear music. It's perfection in sound. It's the kind of musicality people work their entire lives to compose, to play, to express.

To do all without a care in the world.

With as much freedom, spontaneity and energy as possible.

The tone shifts, and the octaves change. And it's Karina, playing her, burying a pair of fingers into Natty.

There is no question here. The two are in sync. Karina, a performer by profession, plays your guest as if Natty is merely an extension of herself. Your girlfriend, in her element, her playground, her stage and her domain. You are her audience. And she has never sounded, looked, or acted so majestic in her role.

Natty sings a string of profanities, nonsensical and fragmented phrases.

"That good?" Karina exclaims, teeth digging into her butt cheek as Natty spills into the cushion. Her legs quiver. Karina smiles into her ass, nipping her a second time and then she turns to you, staring at you with the same dark hunger, the same thirst, you always see.

"You still with us, babe?" she asks—rhetorical, she know’s you’re fixated. There's no question in her mind. She can read you and she knows how captivating this performance is.

"God yes," you whisper in reply. She's smiling wide.

"Good." That one word response, so laden with meaning.

It's a dangerous smile. It means only trouble. Good trouble.

"Come here," she's beckoning you behind Natty. Your legs feel weak and like jelly, yet you crawl up and behind her, your hand slips up to her thigh, pressing, pawing and grabbing her flesh. She purrs at your touch, and Karina, too, responds with delight.

"Natty," you begin, feeling her ass under your touch. "Do you want me inside you?"

"Mhm. Yes."

Karina slips a hand around your erection, her wet, lubricated fingertips meet your skin and when she says, let me get you ready for her. That alone could have done the job. But, damn, her hand feels so good as it strokes. The motion's just the right pace and when her grip gets tighter, a tremor courses through you.

"You did such a wonderful job already." Her praise is just as nice as her tongue running along the side of your length and then her lips, pursed, locking onto the tip.

"Karina..." it's a long-drawn groan. She lets her tongue swivel over you, each stroke lasting longer and longer. The more she continues, the more feels you grow and get hard—she works you until the last ounce of sanity leaves your brain.

Then she draws away and finishes her sentence, "I told you, you're the best. Now look at her, look how needy she is." Karina's still got a hand on your cock and the other caressing Natty's cunt.

Natty’s now the girl in the center of it all. Her beautiful face turned, eyes closed. She's twitching, aching, longing. She whimpers, and then gasps in desire as you angle your cock at her slit. Her folds open gratefully and the wet warmth of her sex embraces you. Her groans rise again, heightening ever more in the satisfaction as she backs herself further onto your length.

You move, thrusting into her, and she breaks into a tempered moan.

"Oh yes! God, yes."

And you feel a hand grab at your backside, encouraging, guiding, demanding more of you. She partners her touch with an all-telling grin. Karina's about as happy watching you fuck someone else as she is being fucked.

"That's it... You like it like this Natty? Does this feel good to you?"

It's a silly thing to ask, but it still makes Natty stir. It makes her hot—burning hot. As soon as the words are out of her, and she follows with a moan, she becomes tighter around you.

"Ah! Yes, yes, yes..." she trails into several more repetitions as you angle deeper into her.

Your girlfriend is dancing her fingertips over her skin. "So amazing," your lover is still muttering her words. "So fucking hot," Karina says as she tracks her kisses up Natty's back. Gentle kiss after gentle kiss to her glistening back as Natty keeps driving her ass back against you. 

There is the unmistakable look of an idea forming in Karina's mind. She's climbing onto the sofa, crawling past Natty onto the back of it, where Natty's head is pressed against the fabric. Natty grows hesitant at the expectation of what's to come, and it allows you to take over. A hand on either side. You're gripping her hips and really fucking her, pushing your cock fully into her and stretching her.

You see Natty's fingers wrapping around the bottom of the sofa cushions in an iron grasp, trying to bear the surge of bliss. She shudders and clenches up as Karina runs a set of nails up her back.

"Yes, baby, you take her, don't be afraid," Karina hisses her words, raking at Natty's back with her claws. "Harder." Karina demands and you pull on Natty's hips, pulling the gorgeous young woman into your hips as you fuck.

Karina's sliding into where she wants to be, right in front of Natty's face, sitting where she rests it. She's handling her like the toy she currently is, pulling her head exactly where Karina wants it, and coercing Natty's mouth onto her. To bury her in and make her satisfy Karina's craving.

And Natty wastes no time, sliding her lips onto Karina, exploring her core the way she has explored her mouth. "Just like that," your girlfriend cries as she rests a hand on Natty's head and rocks back against her. "See, I knew you'd be perfect for us."

You have to admit, Karina nailed it with this one. Before any of the girls even step into the apartment, they know why they're there, but none of them are as ready for it as Natty. It must be a deep, dark fantasy of her own, maybe something she's played out in her mind over and over. It must have been burning inside her before even that first taste of red wine.

Red wine.

That's it. That's how you knew it was always going to end up like this. Fuck, you must be a fool for having missed it all those times before. It's so obvious now that it's when she drinks red wine with them—that's the signal of how the night's going to end. Your subconscious had made the connection, now you realise.

You smile to yourself in the moment of clarity and Karina has noticed, breaking through her moans to ask, "You look a little lost back there, babe. Something funny?"

She's got a coy grin on her lips and her hand gripping Natty's hair, grinding the woman's face further into her pussy. It's a stream of muffled moans from Natty between her hungry licks of Karina's cunt. She's all action between you and Karina's stare. "Nothing."

You raise a hand and spank Natty's ass; the echo fills the air and her cheek ripples. Karina flinches with surprise and she's drawing the young woman further into her body. "Jesus, fuck. Again."

Again and you lay your palm on Natty. Harder. She mewls in pain and Karina shivers in bliss. Her fingertips dig at the younger woman, grabbing her by her scalp and pushing her harder.

A final time you spank her ass, planting your hands and digging your fingers into her soft flesh. Using the strike on your mount to signal one thing; faster.

You're reckless now—manic. Grab her ass and pound; that’s all that is on your mind. You're rabid—not holding anything back. This is the sole reason that girl's here tonight and you're not letting her down, nor Karina.

You hammer against her body, deep into her depths. Her cries echo over Karina's. Each hit a satisfying smack to Natty's cheeks. Slaps and claps and cries. Sounds fill the room. The wet squelch, the grunt of every stroke to the backing track of Karina's rich mewls.

It's a symphony, eroticism on an epic scale.

Your eyes roll upward, over Natty's body and land on Karina. She's bouncing on Natty's tongue. Head back, face creased with pleasure. A grimace so beautiful that you swear it is the definition of raw sexuality.

Natty's struggling; her legs are giving way and she keeps reaching with her hands. To the couch, the cushions, Karina's legs, to anything. There is no steadying her, and it looks like she's barely clinging on for dear life. She has only her waning strength and determination holding her together.

You think she's cumming. But fuck, it is hard to be sure. Maybe you should slow down, but if she is cumming once, better to make it twice. Or thrice. So, you pick up the pace instead. You become wilder, stronger, faster, more forceful.

She's not even eating Karina's cunt anymore—she just can't. You grab Natty's arms and pull her upright so she doesn't slip. Chest to back now—she’s against you and your thrusts drive upward into her.

Natty wails and all the while, Karina is sliding down the couch onto her knees, face to face with Natty. She brings a hand to Natty's throat, grabbing and pushing to pin her against you. And her other hand is sinking between Natty's legs.

Karina's teasing Natty's cunt with the soft caresses of her fingers, and you're sliding between those fingers and into the girl. "Look at you," Karina's saying between clenched teeth, then a loud hiss passes her lips. "Oh, fuck."

A fire blazes across the brunette's eyes—you swear it is an inferno. Fingernails and knuckles are going white in her grip of Natty's neck, and the same could be said of yours holding her arms.

"Oh, Karina!" Your newfound fuck toy screams your girlfriend's name out at the top of her voice.

Karina responds by rubbing her fingers on Natty's clit, then pressing hard, strumming it at a maniacal pace. She's whispering into Natty's ear, words only the girl can hear, coaxing something out of her.

Natty screams again and again. Your name then Karina's.

She's cumming. 

Not just that, she's fucking squirting.

Her body's a boneless jelly in your arms as it spasms. And your girlfriend just won't stop her mischievous act, not a single pause until she's dragged more from the young beauty. She's dragging her second and then a third eruption.

It pours. It flows. Eruption is exactly the right word. 

Natty's spraying onto your cock— 

onto Karina's fingers— 

down your legs— 

on the couch— 

everywhere.

You've got an ardent geyser in your grip and her voice cracks, the climax too much for her, for any of you.

In a flurry of a moment, Natty falls, slipping from your grasp and collapsing and sinking against Karina's chest. Limp. Saturated and dripping, sweat and cum.

The girl has come undone.

You've slipped out of her, set her free, but you're ready to burst. Staggering behind her, a mess and almost drunk on sex, you catch your breath. "Karina... I..." you begin.

"Look at the mess she made." Look at the mess she is. 

Karina's laying the girl down to the side; Natty is almost lifeless aside from the aftershocks still tearing through her.

"Karina..." you try again. "Karina, please..."

"Come here sweetie," and that's enough. You sink to your knees on the edge of the seat. Karina's in front of you, grabbing at your erection and lying back. You're collapsing over her, propping yourself with an arm. She's pulling at your cock. It doesn't take much and you're about to fire.

"Please Karina, please" you growl and Karina whispers back the sweetest reply, 'I love watching you do this'.

She's tugging your cock, aiming it at her wet cunt, freshly eaten.

Then your legs grow heavy and stiff, it's impossible to move, muscles tense, locking your body in place. Karina's jerking your cock and it's impossible to hold it.

Release.

It comes.

You can't explain, words can't describe it, the sheer, earth-shattering and mind-numbing rush as it pours. Spurt after spurt, you feel it all come out, and through your hazed vision you're watching it pour over her cunt. Some on her abs, some on her thigh, but most of it coating her pussy. It is all you want to see before you fall, slipping onto her, your head in the nook of her neck. Her words are just a noise in your ear.

"Stay with us," it's her soft voice that you feel vibrate in your ears as her chest rises and falls beneath you. "Natty? Darling, you too."

There's this moment of near silence. Three sets of heavy breaths.

There are things you know to expect before long, but in this space between you don't really know where it'll go. It’s all wild in the night.

"That was... fuck. Intense," you begin, laying the seeds to push the three of you to the next course, "Wasn't it?"

Karina's responding with a push at your shoulders, making you look at her. Her features, still so sharp, she's still so elegantly composed, the dark and playful look hasn't left her eyes. Her smile endearing. "We're not done," she begins, a whisper into your mouth as you lean over her.

Hand grasping your cock, firm, and she’ squeezing a drop or two more out. "I want you inside me." She demands it of you, of your spent dick. This is always the danger. You're just a single cock in a game that demands more.

It hurts as she rubs your cock. No matter how gentle her touch, it feels rough and you wince in her hold, it's raw pain and all you want is to draw back, but you stay. You have to stay. You want to stay. Refusing to let the pain, the momentary sting and discomfort end it. "Give her what she wants," it's Natty's voice, from beside the two of you. Who knows where the young girl even got the strength?

“Please,” It’s rare that Karina pleads, but her mouth is on your ear, nibbling softly. Her hot tongue traces the shell of it and the whole motion gives you a shiver that makes the hair stand on end. "Come on." She coaxes in a sultry, yet playful, sing-song voice. It makes her intentions unmistakable.

You draw your body back and rest on your knees, looking at the two girls, side-by-side, one melting and the other keening. Your heart is still trying to get out of your chest, but somehow the sight of them has calmed you. They make it all feel a little easier.

"I'm sure your cock can still work for me," Karina's words are undisguised lust.

Natty reaches a lazy arm, working her fingers into the cum you left on Karina's body, playing with it. She begins painting Karina's belly, streaking it over her skin. "So much," she purrs, adding a moan as a compliment, her tone soaked in desire.

Karina takes her own finger to it too, dousing it in your fluid before taking it to Natty's lips. It's a question that goes unspoken, not one word, one command, just a mere motion. Natty's reply is perfect; she opens her mouth and accepts it eagerly, slipping her tongue onto Karina's digit and suckling it. 

Natty returns the favour, her finger into Karina's mouth. They're both sucking, tasting, swirling their tongues as you watch, drinking the liquid, gulping it down, savouring the taste. Their eyes locked in an impossibly sinful gaze. Neither can bring themselves to break it.

They only give in and finally end it when their bodies move instinctively, rolling in to a desperate kiss. Mouths together, sharing the fluid back and forth in a series of dirty, noisy kisses.

Natty's running her hand down Karina's body, running it through your cum and heading right for her cunt. One finger sinks inside, met by a silent whimper from Karina and a second finger joins the first as the girl's now twisting inside your girlfriend. She draws in and out, each time pulling more of your cum into Karina's hole.

And your cock, exhausted moments before, now wants to wake. It's stiffening, not too far from hard once again. You're a moth to a flame and Karina's burning brighter than ever. 

Natty's insatiable thirst is getting the better of her and her finger fucks your lover relentlessly.

Karina's mewl of satisfaction turns into a blissful howl. And when you climb between the girl's legs, finding them parted, you grab her behind the knees. Karina moans once more when you move to slip her ankles over your shoulders and Natty is forced to concede. Your stiff shaft, the one Karina has yearned for, drives into her.

Karina absorbs you, clinging, squeezing, and she holds you, embracing you. Her body is soft against yours, yet inside she's hotter than molten iron. She's even wetter, every slick and intimate part of her is grinding against you. "Yes, fuck yes," she's slurring, muttering nonsense.

She's a fucking mess between her legs—there's some of Natty's, there's some of hers, and there's a lot of yours down there, and you're fucking it all into her as lubricant. Natty's forced to watch as you're pressing Karina's knees up to her chest. She's riding the edge between pleasure and pain and enjoying every bit of it.

And there's no better feeling than when you press her even closer, and now her ankles lock at the back of your neck. Every thrust from you forces her ass to rise from the cushion and her cheeks meet your hips in a way that resembles Natty not long ago. Her tits are pressed almost flat under the weight. She is so open to you—so, so willing. 

Her thighs tremble. Her hands claw. She's losing everything inside herself, everything but the one thing she wants most, a violent orgasm.

It's Natty's turn now, a role reversal, as she tries her hand at the encouragement, the guiding partner, "Harder," her first order. "Deeper," her second. Both punctuated with her nails scoring along your flesh. And in an act that's so entirely Natty, she's now spanking your ass and laughing as she does it. She's playfully flirty and full of giddy enthusiasm.

"Faster." Natty's clapping her hands and she's watching your thrusts drive Karina wild. Every stroke, every strike, all of it Karina is crying out for. Every push forward makes her twinge, a sensation, a mix of pleasure and pain, each jolting through her. "God, isn't she great to fuck?"

"She's the best," you groan, struggling to reply with the only response you can formulate. She is, of course, better to fuck than anybody else. There's no question about that.

"And you," Natty turns to her, "are you going to cum for us now?" Karina's hair sways. Her mouth is full of cries and whimpers. Every roll of your hips, every pull back and every plunge into her pussy steals every breath.

"Yes," she says. "Fuck yes. Right there, baby. Don't stop."

Natty relaxes to enjoy the show. She can see your shaft thrusting. She can see it when you withdraw, almost the full length and then every inch into Karina. Each time, your girlfriend's body jiggles and twists and writhes.

Karina's face grows contorted. A contortion of pure delight.

It's what Natty's been waiting for. Watching. The expectation she couldn't express. The feeling inside her core growing.

"Oh. God!" Karina squeals. She's seeing white spots explode in her vision. A flash of colourful patterns swirl in her head. The white heat rises higher and hotter, so high and so bright it consumes her. She's gone in it. Next comes a sound following a deafening gasp that stops the air dead in her lungs, the release as an equally loud scream.

You hear it, and the heat burns inside your ears, as if sound could cauterize. Every cell of your skin sizzles. It's electric, this passion.

Her cunt turns to water and floods. Your cock is saturated. That's all the reason you need to lose yourself. To slip back and slide yourself deeper into her, pumping. Her eyes squeeze shut and a loud, sonorous gasp is swallowed by her lips. She's never seemed sexier. She is utterly engorged with desire.

"Ah! Ah!" 

You know Karina's at her limit. A dire need for respite, for air to fill her lungs—for relief.

You know what you're going to do. Natty is oblivious, so when you pull out of Karina, and slide over Natty—who's lying on her side facing Karina—it catches her by surprise. One that brings a look of elated shock to her face. You push up one leg and mount her from the side, driving your cock into her.

Karina's drowning in air as she opens her mouth to take all she can. Her vision clears. It focuses on Natty.

The young woman is caught, once again, and in the best way possible; she's lost and helpless beneath you, she has to clutch and clasp whatever's available—the cushions, her own arms—and take it. She's face down to the couch; her body twisted. Her tit's pressed underneath her but her waist rotating, one knee pointing at Karina and one leg straight between your own.

And Natty has taken this all in stride. She's dug her nails into her own scalp, grabbing at her hair. And there is no uncertainty or indecision within her body, nor in her mind. She revels in her vulnerability. She loves the feel of you inside her. Loves the thrill that floods through her entire being as you dominate and ravish her.

Karina makes her move. To join Natty, she slides in on her side, lifting Natty's leg over her own hip, turning Natty fully onto her side to face her. You relent for a moment and Karina does what she needs to. She pulls her own leg up under Natty's and hooks it around her ass. The girls pull each other close. Pull each other into a kiss. Their mouths together. Their breath shared.

Karina whispers, but loud enough you can hear her, and says, "Told you," and her words are all wrapped up in a smirk, the smile of satisfaction.

You slap the length of your cock against Karina's ass; teasing her but not sliding into her. And only when Karina has worked herself up even higher do you lower yourself and slide in, penetrating, filling and stretching.

You're fucking in and out of her. This might be a new favourite of yours. The girls tangled together, sharing kisses and bites and tongue. Both their holes are there for you—each available whenever you want it, and each is only a hair width apart.

It's hard for you to keep a focus on everything like this. But you fight through, burying your shaft inside Karina. Once, and twice, and a final time again. And it's ever so easy to just drag yourself out, driving it between their cunts for a few short pumps and then slip it up into Natty.

"Fuck. I wish we'd done this sooner," Karina is mumbling more, but her words are rolling together and coiling into nonsensical verbal splashes of pure want and need.

Natty strains a response, "I'd... love... to... join you. Often."

"Perfect." Karina is happy as she shifts, arching her body to make a point, to tell you who to fuck now.

And you slip, and then you're inside Karina. As easy as that. Buried as deep and hard as you can, she's mouthing a silent cry and her hair falls over her face.

Natty's got a handful of Karina's tit now, caressing her nipples. It's hard not to envy the beauty that's in her hands. Soft, round, pert, perfectly curved, her breasts are works of art, beautiful beyond anything you could ever put into words.

And all of a sudden, Natty has shifted from Karina's mouth, planting her lips on Karina's soft pillows. Natty is suckling at them and Karina's mouth is twisted open in a soundless gasp, then she speaks, "I could do this forever."

Her arms draw along Natty's body until she finds her ass, slipping down and around, and then her fingertip sinks between her cheeks. It makes Natty lurch as it caresses her taint, presses lower, and touches her tight rear entrance.

Then she does it, a manoeuvre only the confident would have considered, a twist and she's pushing a slender finger into Natty's ass and causing the girl to nip at Karina's breast. "Fuck," Natty hisses, giving a breathy shudder. And her reaction draws a grin onto Karina.

And they keep going like that, they are perfectly attuned to each other. And you swap again, seeing the opportunity to really punish Natty. You're angling towards her again, sliding into her soaked cunt.

You push up inside her. With no time or inclination to start gentle, you're instantly fucking her fast. In and out, hard and deep, over and over, you hammer her cunt. She's muffled with a mouth full of Karina.

"How's that Natty? Both your holes are ours." It's Karina, whispering her dirty words again, "tell us you're going to join us again. Tell us."

Natty nods her head against Karina's chest. It's not a verbal answer. But it's an affirmation that, fuck, yes, she'd like that—as would you all. You could have this again, and maybe soon, a replay with a fresh twist.

Maybe next time you can be the one inside Natty's ass. For now, it's Karina's finger working her, and it looks fucking amazing as it drives into her and withdraws in the exact same rhythm that you're giving her.

You both keep the pace, driving Natty into nirvana, and at some point, it's clear when the climax hits. But it's an awfully hard thing to gauge the passage of time while being wrapped and caught and tangled with these two vixens. All you know is that all too soon, your balls are beginning to churn.

And that's when you switch back again, driving into your girlfriend's cunt with no time for a rest.You're going for broke. Slamming yourself fully inside and Karina knows the instant you do what your fate has become. She laughs and squeezes Natty, pulling the girl tighter.

It's only natural that the rising tide, the bubble of the climactic force, grows and grows and grows. Your ears pound in the beat of the blood racing and your breaths come in fits and starts. The noises escaping your three mouths become louder than before, more frenetic, more unchecked. More lustful.

"Karina— I— Natty—" You're losing the fight against your own body. The rush, the pressure, all the sounds, sights, and smells have put the signal in the green. There is no stopping it. No controlling it. It's all building, coalescing, into one pinpoint of space and time, right there between their legs.

Karina's pulling Natty into position as you're pulling out of her cunt. They both turn to face you, their cheeks pressed together, tits too, and their legs in a knot. They're lying in such a manner that they feel to you like an oasis in a hot desert, inviting, like a promised paradise, and it's calling you, tempting, and you can't hold yourself any longer.

You're rubbing yourself over the edge, and they're calling out to you in a desperate tones, still riding some faint traces of orgasms, "On us."

"Go on."

"Please cum on me, on us."

"Cum for us."

You barely hear their calls, and there's no fucking way you know who is saying what. It's just words of need spilling from two filthy mouths.

It takes only a handful of seconds, and then it happens. 

With a harsh spasm from head to toe, you feel it shoot forward, ripping free from your body, and pulsing as you paint their flesh. Spurts and ropes and slivers shoot up and over the girls. A little on a thigh, on their bodies, over their tits and all the way to their pretty little faces.

They're smiling like idiots as you cum. They're proud of it. They relish it. Natty's tongue moves around inside her lips, just getting another taste—a droplet or two. Karina's teasing as always, "Is that all?"

You're still forcing every drop out you can, the final bits dropping to their thighs.

"There's no way that's all of it, huh," Karina continues to tease. And then it ends, and your body lets go and you fall beside them. You simply can't stand any longer.

"I think that's all of it, Karina," Natty's giggling to herself. She's twirling her fingers over Karina's nipple, playing with the rope of cum that landed there. And Karina is humming out an almost silent cry, twisting under the touch. "Here, taste," and the offer is clear, and again Natty is surprising you.

She offers her own tit to Karina, willing her to lick your cum from it. And the act brings a gleam to Karina's eyes as she cups it, bringing it to her mouth to taste. She's sucking and licking and Natty's gasping at the sensation, and at the way Karina nibbles just a little—just a little too much for it to be painless.

You're laying and watching in awe at the debauchery of the scene and wishing you could watch it forever, or at least capture it. The girls are just lapping at each other now, filling their mouths with your seed and swallowing. Laughing. Panting. Moaning. Sighing. Gasping.

Their limbs tangle. Their tongues too. And it's then you realise, no matter how drained you are—completely fucking bone-dry—these two aren't even close to finishing. There's still a show to be enjoyed yet.

You shift just a little to find the most comfortable view, and Karina's taking control now. Slowly she rolls Natty onto her back, their legs still tied, in such a way that Karina can mount her. Natty's got a playful smile across her lips, looking up, seeing the glistening of cum and sweat shining against Karina's neck and cheeks and mouth, her entire gorgeous face soaked in the stuff.

Karina's getting rougher, her nails cutting into Natty's skin. A hungry bite here, a nip there, another scratch here. She's threatening to draw blood as red as the wine she drank. Right on the edge of true pain, but Natty's relishing it. Her eyes roll back, and she lets out a small squeal. And you watch her buck and writhe. 

Karina grows ever more forceful—pinning her and keeping Natty in place. She's starting to drive her hips against her. The desire is clear; she wants Natty to a delirium.

You can do nothing but marvel at the sight. You may be raw, you may be sensitive, but you're here to enjoy the show that may yet last a whole night.

"Me and you now, Natty. Are you ready to cum for me?"

"Yes," the whimper slips out of Natty. "Yes, anything for you."