#energy efficient frames

[kozijnenalmere]

Onderhoud van aluminium raamkozijnen

Nieuwste podcastaflevering: Onderhoud van aluminium raamkozijnen 🔧🎙️

Bij Kozijnen Almere weten we hoe belangrijk het is om uw aluminium raamkozijnen in topconditie te houden. In onze nieuwste podcastaflevering bespreken we uitgebreid het onderhoud van aluminium kozijnen. Aluminium is duurzaam, stijlvol en kan jarenlang meegaan, maar zonder regelmatig onderhoud kan het zijn glans en stevigheid verliezen.

In deze aflevering delen we praktische tips en adviezen over schoonmaken, smeren en beschermen tegen weersinvloeden. We gaan dieper in op welke middelen het beste zijn om uw kozijnen te reinigen zonder de kwaliteit aan te tasten en geven richtlijnen voor een onderhoudsroutine die past bij het Nederlandse klimaat.

Mis deze waardevolle tips niet! Luister nu naar de aflevering via SoundCloud hier. Doe uw voordeel met onze inzichten en verleng de levensduur van uw kozijnen. Bent u op zoek naar professioneel advies? Neem contact op met Kozijnen Almere voor een persoonlijk consult.

[hsmagazine254]

The Allure Of A-Frame Homes: Benefits And Charm

Embracing the Distinctive Appeal of A-Frame Architecture A-Frame homes have captured the imagination of homeowners with their unique design and inherent charm. These structures, characterized by their steeply-angled roofline forming the shape of an ‘A’, offer a range of benefits and aesthetic appeal. Discover the allure of A-Frame homes and why they might be the perfect choice for your next…

[darkshrimpemotions]

If I see one more person who grew up well-fed bemoaning that they're bigger than their mom who grew up malnourished I'm going to lose my mind. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry that fatphobia and diet culture ever made you look at your tiny mom, who suffered food deprivation in childhood only to grow up and make sure you never did, and see your larger body as anything but a blessing.

[saheed-uae-blog]

The Benefits of Glass Doors

In the modern world of interior and architectural design, glass doors have emerged as a symbol of elegance, functionality, and innovation. These transparent marvels have witnessed a surge in popularity, and for a good reason. Glass doors offer a wide array of advantages that not only enhance the aesthetic appeal of a space but also contribute to practicality, energy efficiency, and overall well-being. In this comprehensive guide, we will delve into the myriad benefits of glass doors and why they have become a cornerstone of contemporary design.

Types Of Glass Doors

Aluminium Glass Doors: Aluminium glass doors combine the durability of aluminium frames with the elegance of glass panels. They are commonly used for both interior and exterior applications, providing a sleek and modern look while ensuring weather resistance.

Frameless Glass Door: Frameless glass doors offer a minimalist and contemporary design. They lack visible frames or hardware, providing an unobstructed view. These doors are perfect for creating a seamless and open ambiance in homes or offices.

Glass Doors Sliding: Sliding glass doors are known for their space-saving design. They slide horizontally rather than swinging open, making them ideal for areas with limited space. They offer the same benefits of natural light and transparency as traditional glass doors.

Glass Door Wardrobe: Glass door wardrobes feature glass panels as the front doors of the wardrobe. This design not only adds a touch of sophistication to the bedroom but also allows for easy visibility of clothing and accessories without the need to open the doors.

Stackable Glass Doors: Stackable glass doors consist of multiple panels that can be neatly stacked or folded away when fully opened. They are often used to create wide openings between indoor and outdoor spaces, providing a sense of continuity and flexibility in design.

Interior Glass Doors: Interior glass doors are designed to separate different living spaces while maintaining an open and airy feel. They come in various styles, including frosted, etched, and clear glass options, offering versatility in design and privacy levels within a home.

Benefits of Glass Doors

Transparency and Openness

The most evident benefit of glass doors is their ability to create an atmosphere of transparency and openness. These doors allow an unobstructed view of both interior and exterior spaces, blurring the lines between indoors and outdoors. This feature makes rooms appear larger, more inviting, and provides a sense of connection with the surrounding environment.

Natural Light Infusion

One of the primary advantages of glass doors is their capacity to usher in an abundance of natural light. The entrance of daylight into a space not only reduces the need for artificial lighting but also provides numerous health benefits. Natural light promotes productivity, enhances mood, and even contributes to energy savings.

Aesthetic Versatility

Glass doors come in a variety of designs, from classic to contemporary, and they can be customized to suit any architectural style. Whether you prefer a sleek and minimalistic frameless design or a more traditional framed look, glass doors offer the flexibility to match the aesthetic of any interior or exterior space.

Energy Efficiency

Modern glass doors are designed to be energy-efficient. They are equipped with advanced insulation technology, including low-emissivity (Low-E) glass, which reduces heat transfer and helps maintain a comfortable indoor temperature. This not only reduces energy consumption but also lowers utility costs.

Noise Reduction

Glass doors equipped with double or triple glazing can significantly reduce noise transmission from the outside. This feature is particularly advantageous in urban environments or areas with high traffic, contributing to a more peaceful and quiet indoor ambiance.

Easy Maintenance

Maintaining glass doors is a breeze. They are easy to clean and resistant to stains and odors. A simple wipe with a glass cleaner is often sufficient to keep them looking pristine, making them an excellent choice for spaces that require minimal upkeep.

Conclusion

The benefits of glass doors in UAE are abundant and diverse, making them a top choice for homes and businesses. From illuminating natural light to enhancing property value and providing security, glass doors offer a range of advantages that transcend aesthetics.Additionally, finding the right Glass Doors manufacturers is important in ensuring you get top-quality products. TradersFind, a reputable platform, connects you with trusted glass doors suppliers, further enhancing the advantages of glass doors in terms of reliability, choice, and affordability. So, when considering the benefits of doors, don't forget the added advantage of accessing the best sources through TradersFind.

[clasesdeperiodismo]

New York Roof Extensions A large image of a backyard concrete paver patio fountain in the arts and crafts style.

[colinkloecker]

Foyer - Mudroom Entryway - mid-sized contemporary light wood floor and beige floor entryway idea with beige walls and a medium wood front door

[heartmomsen]

Roofing - Gable Large minimalist brown one-story wood exterior home photo with a shingle roof

[maximefauconnier]

Stucco Exterior Mid-sized mountain style white two-story stucco exterior home photo

[sgtpeppersofab]

Contemporary Exterior Ideas for a mid-sized, one-story, contemporary metal home's exterior renovation with a metal roof

[transmutationisms]

lrb one of the luxuries people love to get up in arms about is air conditioning and it's such a good example of how selectively these conversations get framed. part of the reason so many people need AC is because building housing cheap, at scale, for profit so often means building with shitty materials and pre-fab / one-style-fits-all design, and consequently, many people's housing gets little to no protection from the heat without the AC. there are ways to build that are much more energy efficient and heat protective, but the US model is to instead cut corners building luxury units, which yields a built environment dependent on expensive and energy-intensive technologies like AC. similar goes for the dependence on cars. these things are still luxuries, despite them being necessary for a lot of people; the fact that they've become necessary is itself already a result of the immense accumulated imperial wealth of the US and how capitalist expansion affects urban development, infrastructure, etc. when a luxury becomes a necessity that probably doesn't mean you're suffering uniquely or extra; it means the standard of living you've come to expect or need was always and only made possible by the massive wealth you have & exist around already

[nouearth]

a day at the office.

jim halpert x male reader.

summary: what happens when jim finds out that there's a secret place in the warehouse that's used for sleeping? hint: it's not used for sleeping.

wc: 6.6k. genre: smut. warnings: coworkers, top!jim, bottom!reader, bigdick!jim, spit as lube, fingering, milking, over-stimulation, spitting, kissing, lots of french kissing, breeding, public sex, established relationship, au where pam is with someone else, jim has a bi-awakening, seasons 1-4 jim!

It was a call-back that he’d been expecting. It didn’t take much of an utter of the familiar client’s voice, the principal of Dunmore High School, to assure Jim that he had already secured another renewal of paper supplies for the school; an impressive three-year loyalty from the school, but who was counting?

Jim held the phone and watched you at your desk, two sections diagonal of him. He looked pleased when the client began voicing out compliments because of his efficient service, smiled because you were absolutely terrible at playing computer Chess despite lowering the difficulty settings, and beamed when you caught his gaze, warm like the mug of coffee sitting by the small picture frame of your dog on your desk.

It was impossible to know if you could hear what Jim was saying, but the grin on his face told more than a thousand words and you bid him a thumbs up when he looked up from his notepad after scribbling the client’s purchase.

“All right, and before I let you go, our customer service representative will follow up with a short survey regarding our products and services.” A question followed after. “Yep, similar survey as last time—you got it. All right, it was a pleasure doing business with you. Take care.”

Despite originally feeling aversion for his job, he couldn’t lie about feeling some sense of accomplishment whenever he secured a huge order. Not to mention how much of an ego booster it was since he earned a commission out of the sale. Gradually over time, Jim found himself to be one of the top salesman at the office, convincing himself that his stay at Dunder Mifflin would only be temporary.

Then the gratification completely ceased, weakly fluttering like a limp balloon, when he looked at the time on his taskbar.

It was only 10 AM.

This is going to be a long day. Jim groaned, slouching in his seat because the negotiation felt like forever, sucked out all of the energy left in him during the half-of-an-hour call despite fueling himself with caffeine and random fruits he’d stolen from his roommate. They were nearing that gross, wrinkly stage anyway.

When he turned his attention back towards you, the phone was in your hand, the other typing on the keyboard what Jim presumed would be the client’s answers to the survey questions. There was always a smile on your face, even if the client couldn’t see you. And then tone in your voice. It was inviting and personable, a voice that made people feel safe and heard, as if that mattered at all because how could buying paper feel anywhere near dangerous? 

Or maybe it was simply because Jim was too high on his own infatuation for you, that he was mostly projecting his appreciation.

A couple of hours had passed, 1 PM, and Jim managed to make a few sales here and there. A couple of clients hadn’t finalized their choice of supplier yet, but Dunder Mifflin was certainly being alluded as the option once he offered free deliveries on the count that they ordered a certain number of shipments of paper. That always sealed the deal.

To be honest, other than enduring many of Michael’s annoying antics with Dwight being his right-hand man, most days in the office were exactly as mundane as today was turning out to be. Usually, he would find himself passing time by hanging around your desk, catching you up on the weirdest news he discovered through a deep-dive in the internet.

And you wouldn’t believe what’s about to happen next…

What..? Don’t tell me they found the fing— Yep, they found the finger in the chicken tenders. Cooked. Medium-rare. Crisp to the bone. Blistering. Oh god—that’s horrifying! Jim—

And usually, they were lies that he made up on the way to your desk, mainly because he loved drawing a reaction out of you. And you were also extremely gullible, which made it all the easier to do so.

But as far as today was concerned, you were knees-deep into your responsibilities. Phone calls concerning shipment delays siphoned you into brief turmoil because—of course there were going to be delays, we’re in the middle of February where the earth was working in mysterious ways to conjure up snow days!

As much as Jim wanted to cut the phone line off when a client had suddenly erupted into an audibly loud one-sided yelling match—he was winning, of course—it always impressive how calm and composed you were under those circumstances.

Though, while he acted the same way regarding his approach to customers, he preferred to give people time and space to calm down. Whereas you accessed the situation and carefully structured how you sounded to hopefully pacify their anger. Your voice was gentler, but it never faltered into a frailness that made you a pushover for the client to rag on. Rather, it was stern, especially authoritative when you would assert, “Sir, I understand this situation is very frustrating for you, but I am here to help. And I cannot help you if you do not tell me your order number. And it would also be very much appreciated if you lowered your voice.”

You were fairly new to the company, a little over two years in your position, and every day, as a little more of you unfolded, you’d shown Jim why you were hired on the spot. You were practically the face of what Dunder Mifflin desired, of what any company expected really; friendly, collaborative, hard-working, efficient, all those cliché keywords on a résumé. 

A golden boy, Jim liked to describe you as. He didn’t mean anything negative by it, simply by evidence of your personality at first. But when he mentioned that moniker for you one day, of course you laughed like it was the funniest thing Jim had told you since you’d introduced yourself, because you were a people-pleaser. Easy to get along. Charming. Handsome. Bright. Golden. 

That was you.

Honestly, Jim never expected to cross ‘fall in love’ off his New Year’s resolutions right before the year even started. He also never thought he’d strike out ‘discover your bi-awakening’ in any timeline of the universe—only because he didn’t even know he had a type in men—but the future worked in wondrous, confusing ways. Though, if someone actually asked for him to describe his type, it would be indescribable because Jim doesn’t know exactly what made him fall in love with you, except for the fact that it was you. Your presence. Your personality. Your looks. You.

Jim liked how you would say greet everyone ‘good morning,’ but it was him that you held in high-regard. He liked how you were shorter, like many others in the office were compared to him, but you had a build, or maybe a presence, that made him want to take you in his arms and never let go. He liked how you would end up snorting at his jokes because he never found his jokes incredibly funny. It was mainly a tactic, or rather an invitation for you to know that he wanted to be friends. With every laugh that spilled out of your mouth, fortuitous snorts that would embarrass you when Jim kept the joking going, a mutual bond was shortly formed and it felt even better than scoring a huge sale.

He liked how you were generous, tossing a bag of chips on his desk after a visit to the vending machine, and he’d suspected that you’d been watching him too, because you always got his favorite flavor without Jim ever telling you the minor details of his insignificant life.

He also liked how confusing it was to like you, to suddenly develop a crush on a man like he had just discovered a new aspect of life. There was something exciting and new happening in his mundane world, giving him a newfound motivation to come to work other than to pay his bills. He thought he discovered everything about himself by his early 20s, but you’d shown him that life truly does throw you off-course, or in Jim’s case, on the right side of the path. 

He casted doubts about his sexuality early on, pondering that loneliness had caught up to him and constructed an entirely different narrative as a last ditch effort to set him on an expedition to find love again.

But would loneliness really be influential enough to compel him to suddenly kiss you in the parking lot after having dinner together? He recalled you gasping, pulling away, thankfully not because you were repulsed by him, but because you were in complete shock that Jim was even into men in the first place. 

Jim never realized how much he brought up his ex-girlfriends to overcompensate for this sudden attraction for the opposite gender until you brought it up.

I don’t know yet, about all of this… I’m still figuring things out, but I really like you, (M/N).

Jim, I think you had too much to drink.

All I had was a Sprite—

He pondered that night, then many more until it began weighing on his conscience.

But he oddly found himself kissing you again a month after, properly this time, in his Subaru when he took you home after your car broke down. He felt like a volcano erupting when his lips landed on yours, soft and delicate like the first time he kissed you. His breath rattled into your own hesitation with every exhale, but then you took him in, let him in, and Jim melted. 

And then calmed, stilled, when you led, cupping his jaw to keep Jim from pulling away, and instead closer, leaning over the armrests of each respective seat and center console. The leather pressed uncomfortably into his body, but when you slipped your tongue inside of his mouth, he was spellbound, then purged of any feeling other than the ones you’d enthralled him with.

As you assured him on that night, with a late night conversation that refused to let you out of his car and Jim out of your neighborhood street, that was when he found himself.

Huh.

What?

Nothing… Usually my gay-dar is pretty spot on, so if I knew you rocked that way, I would’ve flirted with you early on.

Okay, one; never mention gay-dar to Michael or Dwight ever, because then they’ll go ‘I told you so’ on me. And two; you had a crush on me? Tell me more.

You’d be surprised how much height can make a gay man go feral, Jim.

Seems like you managed yourself pretty well, don’t you think? That you know of.

You animal…

Another hour passed by as Jim willingly let himself be sucked into a black hole of thoughts recalling those moments with you, those ‘firsts’ that could keep him distracted for another two hours or so. Alongside his first kiss with you, there was the first time he touched you; clumsiness took his hands to roam around your chest, stomach, then erection until you blew from Jim’s increasing interest, and then profound knowledge in your body.

He kissed you elsewhere other than your lips. It started off with your neck, then your shoulders, chest, and so-on, until his lips suddenly began wrapping around your own length without warning, sucking you off with cloddish, yet enticing attempts that made you laugh, because Jim was greedy, awkward with his tongue, but that didn’t stop you from wanting him to yourself.

You pulled him off and made him lean back on the couch instead, settling on your knees and then rewarding his service with your own mouth, to show him how to properly work a cock. Jim was never a man that was enticed by blowjobs, only because a mouth never felt gratifying enough, but with every swirl of your tongue, every spit that dripped off of his thick cock and back into your mouth, he was fully convinced that he was a changed man by the time he filled your mouth. 

He then intruded deep inside of you because to fully have an understanding of your body, he needed to explore every inch, every surface, every crevice. It was on his bed, in his messy room that Jim tried to hurriedly clean before you came in, that could barely accommodate room for two, but it was you who made it work when you straddled on his lap and rode him instead. You’d never felt so full, you said it yourself he was balls-deep inside of you.

And jesus christ, Jim knew he was big considering the women he’d dated were apprehensive about taking him, barely taking his cock before surrendering. It gave him deja vu with the way you held your eyes shut, bracing your position by having one palms on his chest, and the other guiding his cock carefully into you, controlling the stagger of your breath to the best of your ability. 

In the moment where he’d expect you to stop pushing yourself and tell him to settle for a blowjob instead, determination set you aflame like the painful stretch Jim had been providing you with, and with three more pulses to your breath, a brief break to apply more lube on Jim’s erection and your hole, you were entirely breached when Jim aided your hips and pushed you down until you were flushed against his body, flesh sticky and sweaty from your persistence.

You’re amazing… Jim, I’m close. Harder—

It was a memorable night, a messy one where you offered to change his sheets, and Jim swore he could’ve gone all-night if they hadn’t had work the very next day.  Instead, he held you close, panting and continuing to fill you despite your protest to shower, gazing into your eyes while you held his stare with a warmth that might have rivaled his own infactuation for you, and smiled.

I really like you.

I really, really like you too, Halpert.

And now Jim was here, fantasizing in his seat with an aching hard-on, but absolutely guilt-free this time, because it’d been a few months since you two made it official.

It took several pings from Jim’s computer to put his musing to a halt. He leaned forward to view the unread messages, tending to his erection with a few gentle squeezes, then peeked over his monitor with a grin when he realized it was from you.

[M/N]: lunch? [M/N]: hellooooo

[M/N]: if you don’t answer i’m ordering ahead without you [M/N]: wow you’re really out of it [M/N]: stare deep into space if you hate me [M/N]: wow, jim.

“Hey,” A gentle kick to your shoe knocked your attention up to Jim, where he greeted you with a warm smile as soon as your gaze fell on him, a coat draped over his arm. “What are you feeling today?” The weather wasn’t too cold, the coat mainly providing an obstruction to the evident outline in his khakis.

Glistening, you returned his smile tenfold in brightness, sprouting from your seat to stretch your arms over your head, loosening the tuck of your shirt crinkle by crinkle until you felt a pleasing crack to your back and shoulders. “Anything’s fine. Sushi? Wait, no—we had that last week.”

“You have…” Jim rolled a sleeve up to check the time on his watch, and your eyes immediately pivoted towards the veins in his forearm, endearing and taunting. “…the two minutes it takes to get to my car to decide.”

“Wait, but that’s not even enough—“ He turned his body so you were complaining towards his back, broad and firm through his blue dress shirt. You’d never felt so envious of a piece of clothing hugging tight on his body when that could’ve been you.

“Up and at ‘em, a minute and twenty seconds now.” Jim began walking towards the entrance, chuckling as he could hear you scramble through your desk in search for something. “Gotta find my wallet first—“

“Seriously? It’s already been thirty seconds now!” 

Turned out, all that rushing was for nothing as Jim had other plans when he pulled you past the exit to the parking lot, and instead another floor lower, and then another, until you and him reached the warehouse. He acted on impulse, his sudden thirst for you taking the reign of his actions that he didn’t exactly know what to do had the warehouse not been empty. Luckily, it was and Jim would keep that in mind for the future.

“Uh… Jim, why are we down here?” The warehouse was bigger than you last remembered from the brief introductory tour you were given. Though, to be fair, you were running on a half-mug of coffee, and the adrenaline rush of meeting everyone for the first time hadn’t worn off yet.

“You’ll see,” Jim shrugged, nonchalant in his demeanor as his gaze was seemingly in pursuit of something above him along the rows of storage shelves and units. “Don’t want to ruin the surprise for you.” The words rolled off of his tongue suspiciously, and beneath the growing smile on Jim’s face that was supposed to keep you calm and composed like it did on normal circumstances, was something that did the opposite, riling a wave of conflicting feelings within you.

Especially when Jim began to climb a ladder and step into a shelf space in the back of the warehouse that was hidden impressively well from the entrance.

“What—What are you doing?! Get down here!” Your eyes widened in panic, scanning the space from left to right multiple times in case any of the warehouse employees were within vicinity. “Jim!”

“It’s fine, come on up!” He waved you up once he got himself situated, head awkwardly bent and shoulders slant because of the shelf barely accommodated for his height and build.

“No way. We’re going to get fired if we get caught.” You frowned, crossing your arms as you stared up at him, baffled.

“You know, it would help your case if you weren’t standing where everyone could see you.” Jim reasoned and you huffed after. “I promise, we won’t get caught. I’ll keep an eye out. And if it helps, Darryl told me about this area. Toasty in here too.”

Apprehensively, you took ahold of the ladder railings and climbed your way to the shelf space where Jim awaited for your arrival, anticipated with a smug smile as he held out his hand to pull you in once you took his palm.

The shelf was in the darkest corner of the room. A few lights above had been burnt out for quite some time, and the large boxes of paper supplies that surrounded the perimeter casted shadows that ultimately provided an agreeable space despite your original complaints. In this case, as you cataloged the pillows and one throw blanket around you and Jim; a comfy place to rest your eyes.

“You took me here… to nap.” You stated matter-of-factly and stared at him disengaged, but nonetheless foraged a pillow behind your head and snuggled up to his left side when he opened his arm up. 

“The things I do for you. Absolutely no appreciation whatsoever.” Jim joked, then pinched your nose with a chuckle. The gesture always managed to pull a smile out of you, and he already anticipated you mirroring it back at him, to which he keenly blocked with a strong hold of your wrist. Then another when you attempted sneak attack with a neck-chop with your other arm.

“You know…” Your voice wandered to a deepness, a slight hush as if anyone around you could hear. “You could’ve just told me you were horny.” You tugged your hands in resistance.

“What—How did you know?” Jim broke out into a toothy smile despite being caught red-handed.

“I mean, you weren’t exactly hiding your boner that well. A hand isn’t going to cover that.” You nodded your head towards the size of his bulge, the center of Jim’s khakis creasing when his erection greeted you with a throb. The boxes of paper supplies couldn’t shelter Jim had they tried.

“Hey, are you shaming me for having a big penis? Wow, (M/N). I thought you were different.” He loosened his hold on your wrists, but nonetheless kept them within his grasp to guide your right hand to his inner thigh, dropping the other after. He leaned in, his gaze pivoting to your wet lips when you licked your lips. The scent of his cologne, along with the way Jim’s eyes glazed over you like a piece of meat, stirred something inside of you. Your pants felt tighter than a couple seconds ago.

“If blowing you until you finish in my mouth is shaming, then…” Jim’s hand pressed on top of yours to move you upwards to his bulge, but you resisted, a teasing grin beamed towards the smug smile on his face before you enchanted his lips with a soft, languid kiss. “Call me a monster.”

Jim abandoned your hand to take ahold of your jaw, cupping the underside of it softly while his thumb caressed the structure with composed strokes. Your breath tasted like coffee, sweeter than how Jim preferred his own cup, but perfectly delectable when it came from your tongue. 

“You stole my line.” He joked again, then kissed you harder; a stroke of his tongue parted your lips again in desperate need to take you, in a sloppy pursuit of some kind of reward for his terrific work this month. His tongue explored your mouth, panting among both parties, your own wet flesh gliding and slipping against and around his needy endeavors, prompted by the gentle squeezes and strokes on his erection, and it didn’t take very long before you were completely captivated by Jim and the way he took you, your body going limp except for the growing tent in your pants.

You palmed him through his khakis. Your hand barely moved up his thigh before you could feel a long and thick lump residing beneath the crinkle of his left pocket, and a moan slipped from your throat because you could never stop marveling over the size of Jim’s cock. “We only have twenty minutes.” It was a complaint rather than a reminder. The clock ticking in your head peeled you away from the captivating kiss, frowning because there was so much you wanted to do to Jim, for him.

“Better get to work then.” You felt his hands suddenly begin to work at your belt, unbuckling them with deft and efficiency. Impatience left the leather hang loose, flopping stiffly as Jim unzipped your pants, and then pushed them down to your ankles after turning you on your side, your back facing him.

Jim snapped your briefs below the smooth curve of your ass, plumping them with the help of the tight restraining digging into your skin and pushing your mounds of flesh upwards. It was a delicious invitation for him to spank your right ass cheek once to watch how his slap reverberated off your flesh in soft jiggles, then another because your hushed whimpers were the perfect accompaniment to the force of his palm.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about your ass today.” He confessed while the strong kneads to your ass, palms of thick flesh groped and spread, provided proof to his confession.

“Yeah? Is that why you couldn’t keep it in your pants today?” You groaned when something wet and lean slid nimbly inside of your hole without warning. Tight and warm, you squeezed around Jim’s lone finger as it thrusted inside of you. Whimpered when it curled, another finger joining after a couple of flicks of his wrist, with the intent to wreck vengeance on the source of his erection.

“You know it,” His voice ghosted over your ear, closer than you expected, and your head knowingly turned to meet his lips for a yearning, sloppy kiss that Jim mutually had been craving all day for. He pushed himself closer to you, your mouth and his parting open and lingering as tongues mingled for an open-mouthed kiss. It was wet and sickly, enough to get you high on the act alone, cock throbbing when Jim closed his mouth around your tongue and sucked the spit bubbles off your tongue. All of that simultaneously stirring butterflies in your stomach while he worked your hole open, presently stretching you out with three fingers barreled into your cavity. 

Usually three fingers was enough to take Jim’s cock. It was uncomfortable, at times painful when you barely stretched yourself. But you liked that you could feel every inch of Jim’s muscly cock pushing you open. You likened it to rolling out a tight muscle after a tough workout. Painful, but incredibly satisfying once you felt him turning you out. Plus, it never failed to make Jim incredibly gratified, his cock somehow growing harder, thicker while he was shelved inside of you.

It wasn’t the most ideal position; you were facing boxes of copy paper that instantly evoked shame, the Dunder Mifflin logo plastered across the cardboard seemingly mortified by the lack of restraining when it came to your boyfriend. It wasn’t often that you two involved yourself in public sex, but when Jim was either too impatient to wait at his apartment, or you needed something to recharge you in the middle of the day, those circumstances mainly resided in his car. You bought extra blankets to cover up the windows too, though ultimately, they served no purpose because you were here—ass out, jerking yourself off to the hastened sound of Jim’s belt unbuckling, khakis and boxers shoved down to his ankles similar to yours in turn.

“Shoot,” Jim grunted irritably. You turned your head over your shoulder, curiously finding the source of his evident annoyance along with him as Jim began searching through his coat pockets, only after taking a long peek at the glorious throb of his cock.

“What? Having regrets already?” You grinned, and you discerned a vacant smile of his own, Jim’s mind occupied by a multitude of thoughts.

“I forgot the lube. I thought I put it in my pocket, guess not…” A sigh of disappointment came after Jim’s habit of clicking his tongue whenever he felt any kind of feeling. “Well, I guess we could try—“

You suddenly took Jim’s hand and spat in it, Jim watching wide-eyed, stunned, while you pushed a few more out with your tongue since saliva never had the ideal longevity and viscosity of lube. “Hurry before it dries.” You turned back calmly, beckoning for his cock with a push of your ass. 

“I’m in love with you.” Jim breathed out, a toothy smile you could imagine from the giddy tone of his voice. The spit in his hand was then used to lube his thick cock, in a thick sheen you presumed from the sticky sounds that tingled the tips of your ears, then the base of your tightened balls.

“Prove it to me.” You folded the arm you were lain on behind your head, cushioning the weight of it while your other hand reached back to lather his cock in your saliva after spitting a few more times into your palm. You felt veins pulsing strong with every stroke, a weight of thick cock that made your wrist sore, and then as you pivoted towards the pink glans of Jim’s dick, a bulbous head that intimidatingly maintained the girth of his shaft.

“You’re going to regret it.” He said smugly, adjusting himself closer and lower to match your smaller build. His moans were bitten back, swallowed down with hard gulps while you were carried away in providing him a temporary relief that you were too impatient to ignore.

Your hand continued stroking him off, your saliva sticking on his cock and then eventually in between your ass as you guided him towards your entrance, immense warmth emanating from the blood surging through his cock veins. “Have I ever?” 

“No,” Jim replaced your hand, making it return back to fondling your balls, and teased by running his cock over the crack of your ass. You felt his cock bolt with a spring, taunting when the plump head pressed its slick pre-cum to your pucker. He loved how he could see your ass clench in desperate efforts to lure him in, but it was futile as he’d return to sweeping over your hole with languid swipes, drawing out whimpers that signified that your impatience was running thin. 

“And I love you even more for that.”

He suddenly pushed. Your breath got caught in your throat from the abruptness of it all, and your body immediately tensed in turn, frozen in place when a burning sensation from beneath alerted you to stay put and just breathe. Jim groaned, already feeling the swell of your pucker refusing to let the head in, so he pulled himself out and restarted. Harder, he pushed his cock inside of you again, persistent despite your body naturally arcing forward to escape the emerging pain, but his hand on your hip pulled you back, anchoring your withering body, until the thick inch of his cock slid in.

“Careful—F-fuck, Jim.” Your stomach was in knots as it always was when he would first push inside of you. Feelings, conflicting ones of need, want, and regret battling for the throne of your body, of your mind, as Jim kept pushing, sliding in and out, rough and impatient because he needed you to open yourself up for him.

He was so big, too big at times, and you felt so pathetic because you thought you’d get used to him by now; used to the way you felt so full even when only his head had penetrated you; used to how your hole stung as more of Jim sheathed inside of you, slowly with a couple of thrusts aiding its insertion. 

“I know, I know…” He breathed with a rattle, the tightness in your cavity gripping pleasurably around him as he thrusted with only the first few inches in, absolutely riveting that he couldn’t help but let his desires dominant his methodical approach in letting you adjust to his large size and instead, making you to take it all at once with one long and deep push.

“J-Jim!” A scream abruptly left your throat and before you could let another slip out, his hand suddenly came up to cover your mouth, pressing his palm hard to your face and squeezing your cheeks. Your eyes shut, and your body writhed from how Jim’s cock roughly worked you opened. You felt uncomfortably full, beyond stretched to your limits as Jim was balls-deep inside of you now, but most importantly, you felt so wanted.

Bounded by the strong hold around you; his hand squeezing your cheeks in his palm to muffle your moans; his cock penetrating you deep and hard with fast and needy rhythms; his lips soft against your neck before they surprised with a painful suck to your jawbone; you were enraptured by Jim’s dominance over you, leaking from the tip of your cock in heavy drips while he fucked you from behind, the metal of his belt clacking with every precision of his thrusts.

“You’re so tight. Fuck. No one can take my dick like you.” Jim panted, embellishing your neck in hot breaths before climbing to kiss you on the lips again once you were prompted to turn your head. 

It was the small sounds from you that drove Jim nuts. They spilled into his mouth without restraint, an open-mouthed kiss again as he licked into you, suckled on your tongue, and let drool join your own slick mess at your chin. Tiny whimpers and occasional gasps when he hit your prostate fed his thirst for you, knowing that only he could drive you this mad; fumbling over your begs and surrendering because his cock was too good for you to think properly and find your words again.

“Harder. Harder.” You gulped, your demands muffled as Jim had his thumb in your mouth now. After, you went back to sucking his thick thumb off, tongue laving him in circular motions, as best as one could as Jim sped his pace and fucked you into oblivion. “Harder.” You gritted your teeth, hustling through the burn as the saliva had dried off his dick by now. You were beating your cock, pumping it with an ample amount of strength that rivaled Jim’s hips against you, motivated by the ticking countdown of your lunch break coming to an end soon.

It still stung. You barely had time to adjust to him before you were completely taking Jim’s cock as if you were a cheap flashlight he bought online, a piece of silicon that he’d break. Your hair bounced, sweat-dripping down your forehead while you felt his own sweat dripping of his forehead and staining your dress shirt. The back of your shirt felt damp, heat building up at your back-side as Jim had enclosed around you with an embrace that thawed any ounce of pain and replaced it with intoxicating pleasure. An onslaught of thrusts kept you writhing by your toes, then curling into the blanket that had bundled beneath your feet.

Harder. Your demands were immediately met after Jim pulled himself out completely, as if he was recharging his strength, lubed his erection with a spit to the palm, then shoved himself back into you with one strong thrust, sending your body into an arc that he’d immediately restrained back with a push to your abdomen, forcing you to take his cock in full stride. Your ass rippled like the rattle in your moans, flesh clapping loud whenever Jim met his groin to your skin, and you couldn’t get enough of it, the sounds glorious in your ear. Your hole clenched in vain as Jim always managed to power through and forced you open again, hollowing you out until your pucker shaped itself to the exact size of his thick cock.

He would marvel at the gape when he pulled himself out again, for his own sake as he was nearing his climax, and spread your cheeks open. “Just for me?”

“Just for you.” You used the small break to catch up on your breath, wetting your parched throat with multiple gulps as you turned over your shoulder to catch him staring, finding it futile as your throat felt brittle again.

He clicked his tongue multiple times, that habit again whenever he felt something, when the rim of your hole tensed up at the multiple spanks he’d given you, seemingly swallowing at nothing but air, until he breached himself back in, angling his hips perfectly to press at your prostate.

It was nearing—your climax. You rarely touched your cock, abandoning it because your arms tend to be locked behind Jim’s warm embrace around you, but it sprouted strong in between your legs, aided by the repeated violation against your prostate. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head multiple times, Jim’s large cock knocking the breath out of you with every snap of his hips, pounding into the swelling of your insides.

“Oh god, Jim—“

That spot again, he never missed once in hitting your prostate, a storm of delight torpedoing the pit of your stomach as Jim impaled into you like lightning. Jim muttered something under his breath, striking on your skin as he bit into your neck, then pressed hard against your hip bone.

“I’m gonna—“ Jim gripped at your hips harder, a slur of words near your ear making goosebumps raise all over your body, beneath the layer of sweat that had dampened your clothes. 

“Too, me too—“ You huffed, closing your eyes, but deftly finding Jim’s lips when you turned your head to kiss him one more time. An immediate tangle of tongues was enforced, your mouths mutually opening on impulse while he held your head comfortably to keep you from straining your neck. You moaned, reeled your tongue back from the slippery closure of his mouth, and cried out as your pucker clamped down on his large cock moving inside of you. Your hole throbbed around his girth with exquisite spurts that came from within, pulsated with the veins that had adorned Jim’s cock delectably, grasped him like a tight sleeve that refused to let him go. 

When you opened your eyes, you were blinded by the lights that had donned over you instead of casted shadows, a heavenly choir celebrating with holy bells when your balls tightened once before loosening when your cock erupted thick cumshots onto the boxes in front of you, painting the cardboard in thick layers of yourself, of your desires, with the help of Jim’s cock, pounding strong ropes of cum out of you until they’ve hit every box like target practice. 

“Fuck.” Jim let out a deep groan, pushing painfully into you, his hand reaching over to milk your cock until you were only spewing out the tiniest bits of cum left in your emptying sack. Your whimpering and the convulsion of your body, as he continued to milk your cock, triggered Jim to finally break within a couple more thrusts and a deep grunt, his cock exploding hot and thick in the confines of your ass, flooding your tender hole with his thick cum loads.

“Jim.” You whined, drawing out his name. His cum was dripping out of you, a few thick droplets rolling to the side of your ass as Jim’s thrusts were beginning to shallow, but never once pausing. “Fuck—“

“You feel so good like this.” Jim was creaming your insides, using your ass to ride out his orgasm and milk his hard cock inside of you, even when he was beginning to feel sore at the base of his balls. You whimpered quietly, knowing it was such a waste of cum dripping out of you like that, but also because you felt your cock hardening again despite just now recovering from Jim’s devious hold on you.

“We’re going to be late if you keep this up.” You should’ve known better. Any time you offered him a reason not to do something, Jim was motivated to do the opposite. 

His thrusts remained the same, shallow yet deep against you, and right when you thought you felt soaked in your ass, Jim pressed another low grunt to your lips, snapping once into you and rattling another moan out of you, before the convulsions bound his body to your backside once again, and let him spill another load inside of your creamy hole.

Jim shuddered, feeling drained and especially aching as his cock went limp and slipped out of you, the only connection between you and him being the sticky cum that had webbed his cock and your ass together as you involuntarily pushed his cum out of your tender hole in a daze.

“Think you can work the rest of the day like this?” The pleasure subsided into exhaustion, a wave of drowsiness hitting you and Jim like a truck despite the uncomfortable pool of cum sitting beneath you two. Jim kissed your shoulder, then pulled your briefs back up, your pants following after.

“No way.” You laughed, lightly punching at his shoulder after buckling your belt because now all you wanted to do was use what the shelf was actually purposed for: sleeping. “You owe me a hot bath later.”

“Tch, the things I do for you. You're ungateful.”

"You love me for it."

"I do."

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[p0orbaby]

Forty Winks Would Be Just Priceless

summary: your kid only sleeps when being driven, the diva that she is

warnings: none !

a/n: if someone could drive me around to get to sleep that would be great

word count: 1.7k

-

It’s 2:47 a.m., and you’re sitting in the passenger seat of a car that you didn’t even know Leah could operate at this level of exhaustion. You’re wondering if she’s siphoning energy directly from the Devil, because that’s the only explanation. The car smells like a combination of McDonald’s fries, stale coffee, and something unidentifiable that you’re hoping isn’t some sort of roadkill under the bonnet. Your wife is behind the wheel, white-knuckling it like she’s doing 90 on the M25. In reality, she’s going 15 miles per hour around your parish.

Again.

“Is this the fifth lap or the sixth?” you ask. You’ve lost count. Somewhere around lap three, you started dissociating. The glow of the streetlights is the only indication you’re still on Earth.

“Does it matter?” Leah responds, glancing over at you with an arched eyebrow that you recognise as the look she gives opponents who try to muscle her off the ball. Leah has three moods: sweet, commanding, and “I could end you without lifting a finger.” You’re currently dealing with the third. The funny part is, she’s only this intimidating when she’s wearing a hoodie over her messy hair, dark circles framing her bloodshot eyes, which she insists is the result of “just a little” caffeine.

You eye her warily. “Maybe not,” you admit, slumping lower into the seat. You glance over your shoulder into the backseat, where Eden, your two-year-old sleep terrorist, has finally succumbed to the soothing vibrations of the Mercedes. Eden’s head is lolling to one side, mouth slightly open, and you’re just about convinced she’s auditioning to be the next exorcism case.

Leah’s been driving for about an hour now. You’re on your third consecutive night of the same routine: dinnertime is war, bath time is a ceasefire, and bedtime is a full-blown, special-ops mission with all the difficulty of invading a heavily guarded country. Eden has the upper hand. Eden is always ten steps ahead. And the only way to win is to retreat—to the car.

“I feel like we should get a second car,” you suggest, half-serious. “One specifically for these midnight missions. Maybe something with better fuel efficiency”

Leah gives you a side-eye that says, “You’re joking, right?” But you can tell she’s considering it. “Or we could teach her to fall asleep like a normal child. In her bed. At bedtime”

You snort. “Teach her? Are we raising a human or a feral cat?”

Leah doesn’t even have to respond to that. Eden is a force of nature. You’re just two unfortunate souls caught in her tiny hurricane.

“And what do we do when she grows out of this?” Leah asks, but it’s more like she’s thinking out loud. “Do we drive her to school every day just to get her to wake up?”

“Let’s just worry about surviving the next hour,” you say, looking at the clock. You remember reading somewhere that car exhaust fumes can lull a person to sleep. You briefly wonder if that’s what’s happening to you right now.

Leah clicks her tongue in thought, turning onto the next street, where a dog that clearly suffers from some kind of psychological trauma is barking at nothing. “When I was little,” she begins, “my mum would drive me around to get me to sleep, but we lived in the countryside. There were no barking dogs, just the occasional sheep”

“Well, that’s why you turned out so well-adjusted,” you remark dryly. “If Eden grows up thinking the only way to fall asleep is to go for a drive, she’s going to need therapy. Which we can’t afford, by the way, because we’ll be spending all our money on petrol”

Leah chuckles, but it’s the kind of laugh that’s a little too high-pitched to be real. “We’ll add it to the list of things she’ll blame us for when she’s older. Right next to ‘Mum used to make me eat vegetables’ and ‘Mama never let me play with knives’”

Eden lets out a little snore, and you both freeze, staring at the rearview mirror. Leah’s foot hovers over the brake pedal as if any sudden movement might wake the tiny monster in the back. You can practically hear both of you holding your breath, waiting for the inevitable cry of protest that’s sure to come the second the car stops moving.

But it doesn’t come. Instead, Eden’s snore deepens, becoming the kind of sleep sounds that suggest she’s off in dreamland, probably riding unicorns or setting fire to imaginary villages.

You relax a fraction, and so does Leah, though she’s still gripping the wheel like it’s her last lifeline. You wonder if she’s ever used this level of concentration on the pitch. You’ve never seen her miss a tackle, but this is an entirely different ball game.

“So, when do we stop?” Leah whispers. You can hear the exhaustion in her voice now, thick and sludgy like she’s been awake for a week.

You consider this. “We could keep driving until sunrise. Then she’ll wake up with the sun and think it’s a new day. Maybe it’ll reset her sleep schedule”

“Or we’ll just be perpetually exhausted and still sleep-deprived, except now we’ve got morning traffic to deal with,” Leah counters. “You know, if we were living in a different era, this could be considered some form of witchcraft. Driving around in circles at night to get a child to sleep. Someone would’ve burned us at the stake by now”

“Wouldn’t that be a relief,” you mutter, then immediately regret it, because even though you’re joking, you’re too tired to be sure.

Leah sighs. “I love her. I really do. But sometimes I wonder if we’re the ones being trained here”

“There’s no wonder about it,” you reply, deadpan. “We’re definitely the ones being trained. She’s got us figured out. We’re puppets. Eden pulls the strings, and we drive”

Leah smiles at that, though it’s more of a grimace of acknowledgment. “You know, when I said I’d do anything for her, I didn’t realise it included nighttime rally racing in a residential neighborhood”

“Should’ve read the fine print,” you say, then yawn so hard it hurts. “But hey, at least we’re doing this together, right? Quality time”

Leah glances over at you, and this time, her smile is real. It’s small, but it’s there, and it makes you feel a little less like a zombie. “Yeah,” she agrees softly. “I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else”

You reach over and squeeze her hand, and for a moment, there’s peace. Not the kind of peace you’ll ever find in a parenting book or one of those sanctimonious mommy blogs, but the kind that exists in the trenches, where you and Leah are currently wading through knee-deep toddler warfare.

As you turn onto yet another street that looks identical to the last, you finally admit defeat. “Let’s call it,” you say. “She’s out. If we keep going, we’re going to end up in Scotland”

“Good idea,” Leah says, already beginning the slow process of easing off the gas and pulling into your driveway. She parks with the kind of precision that makes you think she missed her calling as a getaway driver.

You both sit there for a minute, basking in the silence that only comes when your child is finally, blessedly asleep. You’re in no rush to move, because you know the second you do, Eden will sense it and all this work will be undone in a matter of seconds.

But Leah is braver than you. She quietly turns off the engine, unbuckles her seatbelt, and with the precision of a bomb squad technician, she turns to the backseat. You watch as she gingerly unbuckles Eden, cradling her like she’s made of porcelain.

And somehow, miraculously, Eden stays asleep. Leah manages to get out of the car, Eden still snoozing in her arms, and you’re right behind her, ready to perform the hand-off should things go south.

The two of you tiptoe through the house like burglars, careful to avoid every creaky floorboard. You’re halfway to Eden’s room when she stirs, and you both freeze in place like deer caught in headlights. But then she just shifts in Leah’s arms, sighs deeply, and snuggles closer into her mother’s shoulder.

You finally reach the cot, and Leah lowers her in with the gentleness of a saint. The transfer is seamless. Eden doesn’t even flinch.

The second the cot rail is up, you and Leah back out of the room like you’ve just completed a high-stakes mission, which you basically have. The door closes with a soft click, and you both stand there, wide-eyed, disbelieving.

“She’s asleep,” Leah whispers, like she doesn’t dare believe it.

“She’s asleep,” you echo, equally stunned.

And then, without warning, Leah lets out a sound that you can only describe as a half-crazed giggle. It’s infectious, and you start laughing too, because it’s either that or you’re going to cry, and honestly, you’ve done enough of that in the last few days.

“We did it,” you say between breaths, leaning against the wall for support. “We actually did it”

Leah pulls you into a hug, and it’s warm and comforting, and it feels like a reward for all the hell you’ve been through tonight. “We make a good team,” she murmurs into your hair.

“The best,” you agree, letting yourself relax into her embrace.

But as you’re standing there, holding each other in the hallway like the survivours you are, you both hear it: the unmistakable sound of Eden stirring, a tiny whimper that promises to turn into a full-blown cry in about three seconds.

You look at each other in horror, and without a word, Leah grabs the car keys.

“You can drive,” she says, already heading back towards the front door.

You don’t even argue. Instead, you grab your the keys from her, knowing full well that this battle isn’t over yet.

And as you both head back to the car for yet another sleepless night, you can’t help but think that one day, years from now, you’ll look back on these nights with some kind of twisted fondness.

But for now, all you can do is keep driving.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Car Wash

Summary: Derek drives Spencer through a carwash fundraiser.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: flirty fluff

Warnings/Includes: sorority, swimsuits, washing cars in swimsuits, suggestive content (16+)

Word count: 1.1k

a/n: i think Spencer would feel so uncomfortable seeing a bunch of people in swimsuits washing his car lolol

main masterlist

The rhythmic thud of the highway under the tires accompanied the quiet hum of the car's engine as Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid made their way back from a particularly intense death row interview. The two FBI agents, having spent the past few hours delving into the mind of a convicted criminal, were both relieved to be heading home, though their minds lingered on the case's haunting details.

"Man, that was intense," Derek finally broke the silence, his hands firmly on the steering wheel as he navigated through the bustling city traffic. "I'm glad that's over."

Spencer nodded, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "Yeah, I don't think I'll ever get used to that kind of interview."

Derek chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "You'd think after all these years we'd have a thicker skin. But nope."

As they turned a corner, Derek noticed a sign up ahead, its bright colors catching his attention. "Hey, check that out," he said, nodding toward the sign.

“Oh, looks like we stumbled upon a fundraiser,” Derek remarked with a grin. “You’re in luck, genius. Maybe a little car wash will wash away some of that prison grime from our heads.”

Spencer’s eyes widened as they neared the scene. The sorority members were decked out in swimsuits and tank tops, holding colorful sponges and buckets of soapy water. They moved gracefully between the cars, laughing and chatting with the drivers, their enthusiasm infectious.

As Derek drove them into line, Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze darting from one vibrant swimsuit to the next. The vibrant scene seemed to overwhelm him. His fingers tapped nervously on his knee, and Derek couldn’t help but chuckle at his friend's obvious discomfort.

“Relax, pretty boy. It’s just a bunch of college kids raising money for a good cause. Nothing to be nervous about,” Derek teased, patting Spencer on the shoulder.

“Uh, yeah, I know,” Spencer mumbled, trying to focus on anything but the exuberant display of youthful energy around them. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling out of place.

A cheerful, beautiful young woman approached the car, her hair and body glistening with droplets of water, and a welcoming smile on her face.

You leaned over, hands on the window frame, and peered inside. “Hey there! Thanks for stopping by! This is for the academic sorority – we’re fundraising for educational resources. Would you like a wash?”

Derek nodded, his smile brightening. “Absolutely. Do you have a special academic rate for FBI agents?”

You laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. “Sorry, no special rates, but we promise the best car wash you’ll ever experience. Just pull forward, and we’ll take care of you.”

Spencer gave a nervous smile, unsure of where to look. The energy of the place was intoxicating, yet he felt like an outsider, his usual calm replaced with a peculiar kind of tension.

As Derek pulled the car into the washing zone, the girls and nonbinary members surrounded them, sponges in hand, and began their sudsy assault. The group worked with practiced efficiency, their movements fluid and rhythmic, creating an almost choreographed display of teamwork.

“Reid, you’re missing the show,” Derek said, nudging him playfully. “Lighten up a little. It’s just soap and water.”

Spencer tried to maintain his composure, but it was nearly impossible with the enticing spectacle unfolding outside the window. “I know, I know,” Spencer replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He watched through the window as a particularly enthusiastic member wielded a hose, sending a cascade of water over the windshield. “It’s just…a lot to take in.”

Derek chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You mean the half-naked people covered in soapy water rubbing their bodies on the car?”

“Yeah,” Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes flicking to the scene outside once again. “That.”

His gaze unintentionally kept finding you, drawn in by the way your swimsuit fit you so perfectly, and the way the bubbles seemed to cling to your skin, accentuating your every curve. The sun was relentless in its teasing, casting golden rays that danced across your shimmering body, emphasizing the soap suds glistening against your skin. Spencer's cheeks flushed with warmth, a result of both the sun and his own embarrassment.

You noticed Spencer’s stare, your lips curving into a playful smirk as you met his gaze. With a teasing wink, you took the sponge in your hand, wringing out the water so it cascaded down your chest, sending rivulets of soapy water running down your body in a mesmerizing display.

Spencer felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs. He shifted in his seat, trying to find a position that would hide the obvious problem in his slacks. His mind raced, heart pounding in his chest.

“You’re that uncomfortable, pretty boy?” Derek teased, a knowing smile on his lips.

“Shut up, Morgan,” Spencer mumbled, his face burning as he tried to look anywhere but in your direction.

Derek laughed heartily, shaking his head. “I think she’s got her eye on you, man.”

As the car wash ended, and Spencer’s discomfort reached its peak, Derek rolled down the window to pay. But instead of approaching Derek’s side, you walked confidently to Spencer’s window, tapping on the glass.

Spencer rolled down the window, eyeing you with curiosity and suspicion. “Um, hi,” he stammered.

“Hey,” you greeted him, your smile dazzling. “Do you have a pen?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Spencer fumbled in his satchel, retrieving a pen and handing it to you. His fingers brushed against your wet skin, and he felt a shiver run up his spine.

You took the pen, holding out your hand expectantly. Spencer hesitated for a moment before realizing what you wanted. He extended his arm, raising an eyebrow in surprise as you began writing your number on his forearm with a playful grin.

“The wash is on the house,” you said, smirking at him. “You can take me to dinner instead.” With a blown kiss and a confident stride, you walked away, leaving Spencer utterly speechless.

Spencer sat there, mouth slightly agape, as he watched you disappear into the crowd of volunteers. He glanced down at the number on his arm, then back at Derek, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Did that just happen?” Spencer asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and awe.

“Yeah, Reid,” Derek laughed, giving him a pat on the back. “That just happened.”

As Derek drove away from the car wash, Spencer couldn't help but stare at the numbers on his forearm, a giddy smile spreading across his face. This unexpected turn of events had certainly added a twist to their day, and as he contemplated the prospect of taking you to dinner, he couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in his chest.

It was going to be an interesting evening, to say the least.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm

[callsigns-haze]

2 3 make 3 4

Summary: After months of messing around with one of Penny's bartenders a knock and a ditch may have changed the couples life forever.

Pairing: Bradley x Jake x Reader

Warning: This story contains mature themes, including explicit sexual content and pregnancy.

The familiar sound of cue balls clicking together echoed through The Hard Deck, blending seamlessly with the hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. Behind the bar, you worked efficiently, sliding beers across the counter and topping off margaritas, your hands moving almost instinctively. It was a busy night, but you thrived on it. The tips were good, the energy was infectious, and Penny trusted you to hold the fort.

You were wiping down the counter when you noticed him. Bradley Bradshaw. Rooster, as his friends called him. His sun-streaked hair caught the dim light as he weaved through the crowd, his Hawaiian shirt loud enough to draw attention but not enough to distract from the confident ease of his walk. He smiled as he approached the bar, and even before he reached you, you knew he had that look in his eye.

"Hey, YN," Bradley greeted, leaning on the bar. His deep voice was warm, familiar, laced with just enough flirtation to send a shiver down your spine.

"Bradley," you replied smoothly, meeting his gaze. "What can I get you?"

He glanced over his shoulder briefly, scanning the room before turning back to you. His lips curved into that knowing smile, the one you'd seen far too many times by now.

"Two lagers and a whiskey neat," he said, then paused, letting the words hang in the air just long enough to make you curious. "And… are you free tonight?"

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn't let it show. Instead, you arched an eyebrow, busying yourself with pouring the beers. "Is Jake in on this, or are you going rogue?"

Bradley chuckled, the sound low and teasing. "You know I wouldn't dream of stepping out of line. He's been asking about you, actually."

The beers were ready, and you placed them on the counter, taking your time as you poured the whiskey. "I thought you two were supposed to be planning a wedding," you teased, your voice light but your pulse quickening.

"We are," Bradley admitted, leaning a little closer. "But you know how we like to keep things… interesting."

Your breath hitched, memories of past nights flashing through your mind. The three of you had a rhythm, an understanding that went unspoken but never unappreciated. Jake’s sharp confidence and Bradley’s easy charm were a combination you could never quite resist.

"I close up at midnight," you said, sliding the whiskey toward him. "You know where to find me."

Bradley’s grin widened, and he tapped the counter lightly before picking up the drinks. "See you then."

You watched as he walked away, his shoulders relaxed, his stride easy. Your heart was pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the busy night.

Midnight couldn’t come fast enough.

---

The faint glow of the living room’s dim lighting cast long shadows on the walls, giving the space an intimate, almost dreamlike feel. You barely had a chance to take in the surroundings before Jake’s hands were on you, firm yet teasing, guiding you back until your shoulders met the cool surface of the wall.

"Missed you," he murmured, his voice a low drawl that sent heat pooling in your stomach. His green eyes gleamed with mischief as his lips brushed the corner of your mouth, deliberately just shy of a kiss.

"Jake," you whispered, your breath hitching.

Before you could say more, Bradley’s larger frame moved in from the side, his presence grounding yet electric. His fingers tilted your chin toward him, and his lips captured yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, as if savouring the moment. Jake chuckled softly at your reaction, his hands skimming down your sides, the friction sending a shiver through you.

"You always get her first," Jake teased Bradley, his tone light but laced with playful competitiveness.

"Someone has to make sure she’s warmed up," Bradley replied, his voice rumbling against your lips as he pulled back just enough to speak.

Your head tilted back against the wall as Jake’s lips found the curve of your neck, his stubble scraping in a way that sent sparks down your spine. You could feel his smirk against your skin, the kind of confidence that made it impossible to resist him. Bradley’s hands slid down to your hips, anchoring you as his mouth trailed along your jawline, each touch of their lips igniting a fire that left you breathless.

"Think she missed us?" Jake murmured against your ear, his voice a tantalizing mix of amusement and desire.

"Why don’t we ask her?" Bradley said, his hands tightening slightly on your hips, his lips hovering just above yours.

Your breath came in shallow bursts as you tried to form words, but the intensity of their attention left you speechless. Jake pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his grin wicked.

"Don’t worry, darlin’. We’ve got all night to remind you."

Your breath hitched as Bradley’s lips ghosted over yours, his blue eyes locking onto yours with a mix of warmth and mischief. He leaned in closer, so close that his words brushed against your lips like a caress.

“Speechless already?” he teased, his voice low and rich, sending a thrill through you.

Before you could respond, Jake’s hands slid from your hips to your waist, his touch confident and deliberate. He was just as smug, his voice dripping with that signature southern drawl. “Guess she doesn’t need to answer, Roo. We’ve got all the proof we need right here.”

The heat of their attention was almost overwhelming. Bradley kissed the corner of your mouth, the lightest of touches that left you aching for more. Jake, meanwhile, trailed his lips along your neck, the sensation a maddening mix of softness and the rough graze of his stubble.

“Look at you,” Jake murmured, his tone playful yet reverent. “All pinned up like this. You could’ve said no, you know.”

His words earned a sharp breath from you, and you felt the warmth of Bradley’s laugh vibrate against your skin. “But she didn’t,” Bradley added, his lips finding the hollow of your throat, placing a lingering kiss there.

You felt your knees weaken, the wall behind you your only anchor as their combined teasing unravelled you. Jake pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his grin cocky. “Careful, darlin’. Don’t go melting on us too soon.”

You managed a breathy laugh, though your voice came out softer than you intended. “You’re both impossible.”

“And yet,” Bradley said, his hands cupping your face as his lips brushed yours again, slow and tantalizing, “here you are.”

Jake’s hand slid to your chin, tilting your face toward him as he claimed your lips, his kiss a stark contrast to Bradley’s. It was firmer, demanding in the best way, leaving you dizzy. When he pulled away, his green eyes were alight with mischief.

“Think we’ve got her flustered enough?” Jake asked, glancing at Bradley, though his hands stayed firmly on you, ensuring you had no escape.

Bradley leaned back slightly, his gaze sweeping over you with deliberate slowness. “Not even close.”

You didn’t even notice when Bradley’s hands slipped beneath your thighs until you felt yourself being lifted, your back still pressed against the wall. A surprised gasp escaped you, but his grip was secure, strong, and undeniably confident.

“Easy there,” he said, his tone dripping with amusement as he adjusted you in his arms. “We’ve got you.”

Jake stepped back just enough to make room, his eyes scanning you with a playful hunger that made your cheeks flush. “Carrying her off already, Roo?” he teased, though his hand found its way to your knee, sliding up your leg in a way that made your breath hitch.

“Someone has to do the heavy lifting,” Bradley shot back, grinning as he began to move, effortlessly carrying you away from the wall.

Jake followed close behind, his fingers trailing lazily along your calf as he walked. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t act like you’re not showing off,” he drawled, his smirk widening when you gave him a glare that lacked any real heat.

You were dimly aware of the living room fading behind you, the hallway to their bedroom stretching ahead. The steady rhythm of Bradley’s steps and Jake’s low chuckle in your ear only added to the heady anticipation curling in your stomach.

As you reached the doorway, Jake stepped ahead to push it open, pausing to glance over his shoulder. “Think you can handle this, Bradshaw? Don’t want you dropping her before we’ve even started.”

Bradley snorted, the sound vibrating through you. “You’re hilarious, Seresin.” He carried you into the room with ease, his lips brushing your temple in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

Jake shut the door behind him with a quiet click, the sound punctuating the shift in the air. The energy was different here—more focused, more intimate. Bradley laid you gently on the bed, his hands lingering for just a moment before Jake joined him, standing beside him with a look that promised the teasing was far from over.

“You comfortable, sweetheart?” Jake asked, his drawl softer now as he leaned over you, his hand brushing a stray hair from your face.

You gave a faint nod, your heart pounding as you looked between the two of them. “I think so,” you managed, your voice breathy but steady enough to make Jake grin.

Bradley leaned down, his lips brushing yours once more before he pulled back just enough to speak. “Good. Because we’re not done with you yet.”

You gasp as Jake and Bradley's hands roam over your body. “You like that, don't you angel?” Jake murmurs in your ear. His fingers ghost along your inner thigh as Bradley kisses down your neck.

“Please,” you whimper.

“Please what?” Bradley teases, nipping at your collarbone.

“I need you both,” you moan.

Jake reaches for the lube. “We've got you, baby,” he says, slicking himself up. Bradley follows suit. You cry out in pleasure as they slowly enter you together, stretching you deliciously. “Oh god,” you pant as they begin to move in tandem.

“So tight,” Jake groans.

“So good,” Bradley echoes.

Jake and Bradley establish a steady rhythm, their hips rolling in perfect synchronization. Jake's thick length slides against your slick walls as Bradley fills you from behind. The fullness is exquisite.

“Harder,” you beg. They oblige eagerly, increasing their pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room.

Jake's fingers dig into your hips as he drives into you forcefully. Bradley's chest is pressed against your back, his lips and teeth marking your shoulder.

“You feel amazing,” Jake pants. His thumb finds your sensitive nub and begins rubbing tight circles.

The pressure builds rapidly as Jake and Bradley drive into you relentlessly. Your entire body tingles with pleasure, every nerve ending alight. Jake's skilled fingers on your most sensitive spot send jolts of electricity through you with each pass.

“I'm so close,” you gasp.

“Let go,” Bradley growls in your ear. “We want to feel you come undone.”

Their words and movements push you over the edge. The dam breaks and waves of intense pleasure crash over you. Your inner walls clamp down on them as your release gushes forth, coating their lengths.

Jake groans as your wetness drenches him. “That's it, drench us,” he whimpers.

Your body quakes uncontrollably as the orgasm rolls through you. More fluid rushes out with each pulse, soaking the sheets beneath you.

Your pulsing walls trigger their release. Jake erupts first, his hot seed painting your insides. Bradley follows seconds later, his cock throbbing as he empties himself deep within you. Their simultaneous climaxes prolong your own ecstasy.

“Oh god, yes,” you moan, feeling their warm essence filling you.

Aftershocks ripple through your body. Each tremor squeezes more of their cum from their shafts. The mixture of your combined fluids leaks out around their lengths, trickling down your thighs.

Panting heavily, Jake slowly withdraws. The sudden emptiness makes you whimper. You feel a gush of fluid follow his exit, spilling onto the already soaked sheets.

Bradley lingers a moment longer, savouring the last quivers of your pussy around him. When he finally pulls out with just his words he could make you cum again. “God, I've missed our little pet.”

---

Nine months had passed since you’d last stepped into their home. Since that night when everything had changed, when the three of you had been tangled in desire, a bond that seemed as much about exploration as it was about connection. Since then, Jake and Bradley’s life had moved forward in a way that felt solid and full, but also quieter—like a piece of their puzzle was missing.

It hadn’t been intentional, the distance that grew between them and you. They knew that. But you had vanished without a trace, no message, no explanation. It was a soft pain that lingered, a void neither of them could quite fill. They had their life together—married for six months now—but they still thought of you, often.

Tonight was one of those evenings when they simply needed to be with each other. The living room was dim, the soft glow of the TV screen casting light across the room. The scent of fresh popcorn lingered in the air, but the warmth between them was what kept them anchored. Bradley lay on his back, one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch, while Jake nestled into his side, his legs draped over Bradley’s. They were quiet, the world outside of their small bubble fading away.

A romantic comedy was playing on the screen—a sappy, predictable one with just enough cheesy lines to make them groan. The plot didn’t matter; it was the feeling that hung in the air. The closeness between them. The subtle touches, the way Jake’s fingers traced the outline of Bradley’s chest, the way Bradley’s lips brushed the top of Jake’s head every few minutes.

“Think we’ll ever get a romcom ending?” Jake asked, his voice low and teasing, but there was a soft undertone to it. The kind that made Bradley pause and think for a moment.

Bradley chuckled, shifting just enough to kiss the top of Jake’s head. “If we did, it’d probably involve some kind of epic disaster before the happy ending.”

“True,” Jake agreed, nuzzling into his shoulder, the slight rise and fall of Bradley’s chest calming him. “But hey, that’s the fun part. Watching it all unfold.”

“Mm,” Bradley hummed, his hand gently resting on Jake’s thigh, fingers stroking lightly. The TV played on in the background, but it was more of a soundtrack to the warmth between them than anything else.

There was no mention of you, no mention of the emptiness that had lingered since you left. They both felt it, but tonight wasn’t about that. It was about the now. About the comfort they found in each other, the steady rhythm of their hearts. Jake shifted slightly, turning his head up toward Bradley.

“You know,” Jake said softly, his lips curling into a teasing smile, “this is nice. Just us, no distractions.”

Bradley smiled back, his thumb running gently over Jake’s hand. “It is. But don’t get used to it. You know Nat’s been begging us to come by. She thinks we’re avoiding her.”

Jake snorted. “As if we could ever avoid Phoenix. We’ll go by next weekend, promise.” He leaned in, his lips brushing Bradley’s jaw in a quick, affectionate kiss.

Bradley’s arm tightened around him, pulling him a little closer. “Mm, I think I can make that wait.” He kissed Jake’s forehead, a soft, tender gesture that spoke volumes more than words could.

The quiet of the evening was broken by a knock on the door. It was unexpected—there were no plans, no guests. Just the soft flicker of the TV and the familiar warmth of being wrapped up in each other’s company.

Bradley and Jake exchanged a glance, a moment of confusion passing between them as the knock echoed again, more insistent this time. The fact that they weren’t expecting anyone made them hesitate for a beat longer than usual, and Bradley shifted slightly, looking down at Jake, who was already settling deeper into the couch.

“You want to get it?” Jake asked, his voice lazy with a teasing edge. He knew Bradley wasn’t keen on answering the door when there was no reason for it.

Bradley smirked, shifting his weight and standing. “You’re closer.” He leaned down to press a quick kiss to Jake’s forehead before turning toward the door. “Probably just some delivery.”

Jake huffed but didn’t protest, instead reaching for the remote as Bradley made his way to the door. A few more moments passed before the sound of the door creaking open reached Jake’s ears. He didn’t even bother to look up from the couch.

But then, he heard Bradley’s voice—sharp and filled with disbelief.

“J-jake… get over here.”

Jake’s heart rate spiked, and he immediately pushed off the couch, a flicker of concern flitting through him. It wasn’t like Bradley to sound so... unsettled.

He crossed the room quickly, his footsteps heavy and rushed. When he reached the door, Bradley was standing at the threshold, staring down at something in disbelief.

Jake followed his gaze, and his breath caught.

There, on the porch, was a baby carrier. A little bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket, with a small baby bag resting beside it. The carrier was securely fastened, the baby resting peacefully, her face tucked into the plush fabric.

Bradley bent down, his hands shaking slightly as he unbuckled the carrier and gently lifted the baby into his arms. She was small, her tiny face still squished with the softness of a newborn. Jake’s mind was racing, his heart in his throat as he glanced around, expecting—no, hoping—to see someone, anyone. But there was no one.

The front porch was empty.

Jake swallowed hard, staring at the tiny little girl in Bradley’s arms. His gaze flickered to the baby bag that was still on the ground. Without thinking, he bent down to pick it up. As he did, a small piece of paper slipped out from the bag and fluttered to the ground.

He scooped it up quickly, unfolding it. His eyes scanned the note, his breath hitching with each word.

"Congratulations, one of you is a father."

He blinked at the words, confusion and a sinking feeling in his chest. He glanced at Bradley, who was cradling the baby in his arms, his gaze softening as he looked down at her.

Jake didn’t even notice the birth certificate that had fallen out with the note until it caught his attention. His eyes widened as he read the name printed there in clear, official text.

Ella Bradshaw-Seresin.