#Cable Car Chaos

[kevinarsenault]

*laughing then gagging*

[adventurelandia]

Cable Car Chaos (2014)

[gloomwitchwrites]

You introduce your husband as your "boyfriend" to annoy them.

Anon! This prompt has me screaming! I really enjoyed writing for this one because it's such a fun idea. Sure, our 141 boys might be a little mad that they aren't being called by their proper title, but you know they'll just love punishing you for it.

I went a little different with this one. Instead of introductions, I made it so that reader is constantly referring to them as "boyfriend" in public settings. Depending on the situation, introductions wouldn't make sense if it was with friends, family, or coworkers because they would likely already know that they're "husband" and not "boyfriend." So i changed it up a bit in that way!

Some of these fall into spicy territory without being descriptive.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, suggestive themes, non-descriptive mentions of sex, fade to black, brief dirty talk

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon shakes his head and you roll your eyes.

“We can ask someone for help,” you suggest, scanning the massive wall of televisions.

Simon grunts and crosses his arms. “No.”

Sometimes Simon’s stubbornness is cute—even sexy—but right now you’re just annoyed with him. It makes you want to stir up trouble, to cause a little chaos just for the fun of it. Pouting, you turn, eyes narrowing to find an associate of the electronics store. When you spot one near the HDMI cables, you take off, not caring if Simon follows.

“Excuse me.”

The man’s head perks up. “How can I help you?”

You gesture behind you, your hand smacking into Simon’s chest. “My boyfriend—”

“Boyfriend?” growls Simon, but you ignore him.

“—can’t decide on a television.”

Simon is not your boyfriend. He’s your husband. But he’s being stubborn, not making a decision, and you want out of this store.

Shifting, you place one hand on Simon’s large bicep, grinning like you haven’t done anything at all. Simon’s hand immediately grabs your ass, squeezing hard. A warning. One that you ignore.

“I can help with that,” replies the associate. You glance at the man’s nametag. Jim.

“Thank you so much, Jim.” You lean against Simon, giving Jim your best smile. “Getting this guy to commit to anything is so hard sometimes, ya know?”

Jim makes a noncommittal noise as he walks toward the wall of televisions. You start to follow but Simon’s hold on your ass tightens, keeping you pressed against him. Simon leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.

“What are you doing?” he whispers.

You elbow Simon in the side but it’s not hard. He lets go, keeping close to you as the two of you follow Jim over to the televisions. Standing back, you watch with glee as Simon is forced to talk to Jim. You stay out of it, but notice Simon’s gaze switching to you every so often.

You already know what he’s thinking. He’ll likely want to punish you, and sometimes those punishments are so sweet.

Once Simon selects something and the two of you are at the car, there is no safety net. Simon shuts the trunk and then you’re pressed against the car, your body trapped between it and Simon’s massive form.

“Boyfriend?” he accuses.

You shrug. “What do you mean?”

The growl in Simon’s throat comes out a groan. “Get in the car.” He lightly slaps your ass as you open the passenger door.

As you start to slide in, Simon’s hand returns, this time slipping under your skirt to find your thin, lace underwear. He tugs sharply, ripping the fabric.

“Simon!”

He stuffs the underwear into his pocket. “You don’t need these.” You feel your face growing hot.

Simon shuts your car door and walks around the driver’s side, hopping in. He reaches out, placing one large hand on your bare thigh. It roams upward, squeezing, sending a shiver of lust up your body to make your head spin. “When we get home, I’m fucking that boyfriend nonsense right out of you.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“I’m so sorry, but this isn’t what my boyfriend ordered.”

Kyle frowns and glances up from his phone’s screen. That’s your voice he hears, but the term of address isn’t right.

Boyfriend. Not husband, as it fucking should be.

Kyle glances in your direction but you’re not looking at him. You’re smiling sweetly at the barista behind the counter.

“It should be hot. Not iced. I might have messed up. I’m so sorry. I can pay for another.” You raise your hands in a placating gesture but the barista doesn’t appear fazed at all.

“No biggie. Keep that one. Won’t take me more than a minute or two.”

“Thank you so much.” You glance at Kyle, and your smirk tells him all he needs to know.

You’re being a tease. You’re doing this on purpose. The drink order is wrong, and you’re using this as an excuse to poke at him.

Kyle locks his phone and casually slides it into his pocket. Do you think you’re going to annoy him by doing this? Maybe. The little smirk on your face tells him that’s entirely what you have in mind.

But the joke is on you. Doesn’t matter if you refer to him as “boyfriend,” because all it’ll earn you is a punishment.

As the barista slides the new drink across the counter to you, you thank them profusely. “Thank you so much. My boyfriend will really appreciate it.”

The barista only nods and turns back to the espresso machine.

As you approach with the coffee, Kyle gentle removes the drink from your grasp.

“Boyfriend?” he asks, amused.

You shake your head like you have no idea what he’s on about. “What?”

Kyle laughs and snags the other drink from your hand. With shock on your face, he strides up to the counter. “Can you set these aside for us? Be right back.”

They only nod and continue working. Kyle snags your wrist and drags you to the little hallway that curves out around. There are a few private corners in there, and the hallway itself opens up into the nearby bookstore.

Kyle checks the handle on the unisex bathroom. Finding it unlocked, he draws you inside.

“Kyle,” you hiss, but he’s not having any of it.

Kyle engages the lock and presses you up against the door.

“You owe me an apology,” he says.

“For what?” Kyle tuts, his hand sliding to the back of your neck. “Get on your knees,” he murmurs, undoing his belt buckle with the other hand. “Apologize with that gorgeous mouth of yours.”

John Price

John leans back in his chair, agitation irritating his spine.

House hunting isn’t something he’s particularly excited about. He is happy that it’s with you, his wife, but the tediousness of it all is exhausting to him. John would rather have you select a few places to tour and then be done with it all. Money isn’t the issue. He just wants you to find a place you like and the two of you can go from there.

He’d live in a tent if that’s what you want.

“My boyfriend isn’t all that picky.”

Boyfriend? John is tugged from his inner musings by your voice and that term of address. Boyfriend. Why the fuck would you call him that? John isn’t your boyfriend. He’s your goddamn husband.

You reach out, planting a hand on his thigh. You squeeze softly as you always do when you’re trying to reassure him, but John frowns down at it, and then looks up at you. You’re not looking at him. You’re staring at the realtor, completely ignoring him.

John licks his lips, considering whether to correct you or not, or leaving it up to a simple mistake, but you do it again.

This time, John didn’t mishear you.

Your hand squeezes his thigh again and Price rests his hand over yours. His fingers enclose your palm and he holds firm. You glance at him and John shoots you his best warning look. You don’t even react. Don’t event blink.

No. He’s going to correct you. He is absolutely fucking correcting you.

The realtor pivots the computer monitor. “I think any boyfriend would agree that these are excellent selections.”

That’s fucking it.

Price shoots up from his seat, keeping a tight grip on your hand. “I need to speak with my—” John pauses, swallowing down his annoyance. “Girlfriend. Privately.”

The realtor shrugs, smiling, but John is already turning around, dragging you out the door. Outside, the stuffy, summer air does nothing to soothe his annoyance.

“Boyfriend? Fucking boyfriend?” John crosses his arms over his chest, looming over you.

You shrug. “What’s the problem?”

“Behave yourself,” he says, lowering his voice.

“Or what?” you ask in mock innocence.

So, this is what you want. John understands the moment the words leave your mouth. You’re fucking teasing him. Fine. He’ll make you learn.

“We are gonna go back in, thank the kind woman for her time, and then we’re leaving.”

“No. I want to stay.”

John leans in but he notices the way you glance away from him and back, clearly flustered. “Good girls don’t play games.”

“Funny,” you reply, head tilting slightly. “That as my boyfriend you have any authority over me.”

John pivots, blocking the view of the front door from you. “I will bend you over that bench so fast, wife.”

“You won’t,” you stammer.

John arches an eyebrow and you visibly swallow. “Want to test me?”

You pout, and then playfully shove him in the chest. “You’re terrible.”

As you turn for the door, John grabs your waist pulling you close. “You started it.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“My boyfriend and I are redesigning our bathroom.”

Johnny’s attention splits. The associate showing him floor tiles is a distant thing. He might be talking about the newest ones on the market, but Johnny is no longer interested.

Did he just hear you right? Did you just call him boyfriend?

“That’s wonderful,” comes a reply, and Johnny notes an older woman talking to you near the laminate flooring that mimics wood. “Where is he?”

“Over there,” you wave at him, a smug smile on your face.

Boyfriend? Johnny is your fucking husband.

“Sir?” prompts the hardware store associate. “What do you think of these?”

Johnny grunts. “Fine. We’ll come back.” He waves the man off and starts for you even as you continuously refer to him as your boyfriend.

You’re doing it on purpose. You’re doing it to annoy him.

And it’s fucking working.

Johnny saddles up beside you, snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you taut against him.

“This is the boyfriend,” you begin, smiling.

“Husband,” corrects Johnny, flashing the same devious grin. He holds up his left hand, showing off the simple gold band. “Happily married to this one.”

The older woman’s eyes round.

“She likes to joke,” continues Johnny. “Come on, love. Better get home.”

Johnny easily guides you away. He leans down, whispering. “You little terror.”

“Bite me,” you reply.

“Oh. I will. Everywhere. When we get home.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @miaraei

@coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @enarien

@miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @sapphichotmess @enfppuff

@berarenado @saoirse06 @haven-1307 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu

@thewulf @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos

@sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d

@heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez

@gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

@tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior @dakotakazansky

@talooolaaloolla @hantheconqueror @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @umno-yeah

[thedensworld]

Right Time | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x Reader

Genre: Angst, exes au

Summary: you both were too young when you get together, right person-wrong time. Two years after break up, destiny brought you two again.

Author note: i'm sorry, you've asked for fluff but i serve you angst :(

Mingyu stood beside Seungcheol, both of them watching Jeonghan, who was all smiles an hour before his wedding vows, as he greeted the guests who had come to celebrate his special day. Mingyu sighed, thinking that the day had finally come. Jeonghan had been under immense stress these past months, preparing for his wedding. He had been going through food tastings, making decoration decisions, getting suit fittings, and juggling his very busy job to earn enough money to give his future wife her dream wedding. Mingyu was tired of being his friend and unofficial personal punching bag.

Just then, Mingyu's eyes shifted to a three-year-old girl running toward them, and his smile immediately grew wider. Seungcheol picked up his daughter, giving her all his attention while her mother, Seungcheol's wife, was busy with her bridesmaid duties as the sister of the bride.

The little girl giggled in her father's arms, her joy infectious. "Daddy, look! Flowers!" she exclaimed, pointing at the floral arrangements that adorned the venue.

Mingyu chuckled, feeling a sense of warmth wash over him. Despite the chaos and the stress, moments like these made it all worth it. He glanced at Seungcheol, who was whispering something to his daughter that made her laugh even harder. Mingyu couldn't help but feel a pang of envy mixed with happiness for his friend.

"She's a bundle of energy, isn't she?" Mingyu remarked, smiling at the scene.

Seungcheol nodded, his eyes twinkling with pride. "She definitely keeps us on our toes."

As they stood there, watching the guests mingle and Jeonghan's nervous excitement, Mingyu realized that despite all the stress and exhaustion, witnessing his friend's happiness was something truly special. Today was a day for celebration, a day to cherish, and a day that marked the beginning of a beautiful journey for Jeonghan and his future wife.

Flowers hung elegantly, their sweet fragrance blending with the smell of freshly baked goods and sumptuous food. The lively chatter of people filled the air, a symphony of joyous voices. All of these scenes were too familiar to Mingyu. He sighed, the memories flooding back, reminding him of his first meeting with you at Seungcheol's wedding.

You were Seungcheol's wife's cousin and one of the bridesmaids, while he was one of the groomsmen. Mingyu vividly remembered watching you during the wedding preparations. He saw you running around, talking, and dealing with the organizer to ensure everything ran smoothly while the bride and groom enjoyed their final moments of calm before entering a new stage of life.

Your first interaction was unforgettable. Mingyu had saved you from a potential disaster when you almost tripped over a cable and fell into the dessert section. He immediately grabbed your arm, pulling you to safety, your body colliding with his.

"You good?" Mingyu asked, noticing the color drain from your face.

A heavy breath escaped your mouth. "I almost got myself in trouble," you mumbled, trying to steady yourself while your heart still pounded rapidly.

"Thanks... Mingyu, right?"

Mingyu nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. "Do you need help?" he asked, noticing how rushed you were earlier.

"Oh shoot! I need to go," you exclaimed, holding a key.

'You want to leave now?' he thought.

"The second dress was left at the hotel. They have to change in an hour," you explained after Mingyu inquired about your urgency.

Mingyu's eyes widened as panic surged through him. "Let me drive you there," he offered. You nodded, handing him the key, and the two of you sprinted to the car.

Just as you were about to leave, you received a call. It turned out your mother had already brought the dress, and it was in her car. The rush of adrenaline subsided, and both of you couldn't help but laugh at the chaos.

"Guess we didn't need to be superheroes today," Mingyu joked, relieved.

"Yeah, but thank you," you said, a warm smile spreading across your face. "I really appreciate your help."

After that day, the two of you kept in touch. Mingyu eventually confessed that he had a crush on you and asked you out on a date, which you gladly accepted. Months later, you were officially dating. Seungcheol and his wife were thrilled, knowing they had played a part in bringing you together. However, they were equally flustered when, three years later, Seungcheol was informed that you and Mingyu had broken up.

Three years of dating, and it's now been two years since you separated. Despite the passage of time, not a single minute went by without Mingyu thinking of you.

As he stood there, watching Jeonghan’s wedding preparations, the memories of your relationship played in his mind like a film. He remembered the laughter, the shared dreams, and even the arguments that made the bond stronger. You were his best friend, his confidant, and losing you felt like losing a part of himself.

Mingyu sighed, the weight of nostalgia heavy on his heart. The sight of the beautifully decorated venue, the smell of flowers, and the sound of joyous chatter brought everything back in vivid detail. He couldn't help but wonder what you were doing now, if you were happy, and if you ever thought about him too.

He glanced at Seungcheol, who was busy with his daughter, and thought about the twists and turns life takes. Love is unpredictable, he mused. One moment you're on top of the world, and the next, you're struggling to find your footing.

Despite the bittersweet memories, Mingyu felt a glimmer of hope. Today was a day of celebration, a reminder that love, in all its forms, is worth cherishing. As Jeonghan prepared to embark on his own journey of love, Mingyu silently wished for a future where he might find happiness again, perhaps even with you.

*

As Mingyu stood lost in his thoughts, he suddenly caught sight of you entering the venue. His heart skipped a beat, and he blinked several times, thinking he might be daydreaming. But you were really there, looking breathtaking in a beautiful dress that perfectly complemented your skin tone. Your hair was longer than he remembered, cascading gracefully down your back, and the sight of you took his breath away.

For a moment, everything else faded into the background. The smell of flowers, the chatter of the guests, the sight of Jeonghan greeting everyone—all of it became a blur as Mingyu's focus zeroed in on you. His heart pounded in his chest, beating the same way it did the first time he saw you.

He couldn't tear his eyes away. Every step you took seemed to bring back a flood of memories: your first date, the countless laughs, the shared moments of vulnerability, and even the quiet, content times you spent together doing nothing at all. Mingyu's pulse quickened as he watched you smile and greet the other guests, looking as radiant as ever.

Suddenly, Seungcheol noticed the shift in Mingyu’s demeanor. Following his friend's gaze, Seungcheol’s eyes landed on you, and he gave Mingyu a knowing smile. "Go talk to her," Seungcheol encouraged softly, nudging him forward.

Mingyu hesitated for a second, a mix of anxiety and excitement swirling inside him. Taking a deep breath, he began to make his way through the crowd toward you. Each step felt like an eternity, but eventually, he stood before you.

You looked up, and your eyes met his. For a brief moment, everything else disappeared, and it was just the two of you. The surprise in your eyes mirrored his own, and a small, nostalgic smile played on your lips.

"Hi," Mingyu said, his voice barely above a whisper, his emotions threatening to spill over.

"Hi," you replied, your voice soft yet filled with a warmth that made his heart ache.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, simply taking in the sight of each other after so long. Then, Mingyu found his voice again. "You look... amazing. More beautiful than ever."

A blush crept up your cheeks, and you looked down for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "Thank you, Mingyu. It's been a while."

"Yeah, it has," he said, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

Mingyu opened his mouth to say more, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat. His nervousness intensified, making him momentarily forget how to speak. You offered him a gentle, understanding smile, perhaps sensing his hesitation.

"I should go greet the bride," you said softly, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. "We'll catch up later, okay?"

Mingyu nodded, unable to trust his voice, and watched as you gracefully walked away toward the bride. His heart sank a little, disappointment mixing with his nerves. He had so much he wanted to say, but the opportunity had slipped through his fingers.

Seungcheol, who had been observing the interaction from a distance, walked up to Mingyu with a knowing look. "You alright, buddy?" he asked, clapping a hand on Mingyu's shoulder.

Mingyu let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I froze, Seungcheol. I couldn’t say anything meaningful."

Seungcheol chuckled softly. "It's understandable. It's been a long time, and seeing her again can stir up a lot of emotions."

Mingyu nodded, his eyes still following you as you chatted with the bride and other bridesmaids. "I just... I didn't expect to feel this way. It's like no time has passed at all, and I still... I still care about her so much."

Seungcheol gave him a sympathetic smile. "Feelings like that don’t just disappear. But hey, you have the whole day ahead. There will be plenty of opportunities to talk to her. Maybe start with something simple, like asking her to dance."

Mingyu glanced at Seungcheol, a hint of hope in his eyes. "You think so?"

Seungcheol nodded confidently. "Absolutely. Just be yourself, Mingyu. You two had something special, and who knows? Maybe today is a chance to rekindle that."

Taking a deep breath, Mingyu tried to calm his racing heart. "Thanks, Seungcheol. I’ll give it a shot."

As the ceremony drew closer, Mingyu resolved to find the right moment to talk to you again. He couldn't let fear hold him back. Today was about new beginnings, and perhaps, it could be the start of something beautiful for both of you.

*

After the wedding vows, it was time for the group photos. Mingyu positioned himself not too far from the newlyweds, while you stood directly in front of him. The familiar scent of your perfume and your hair, the same fragrance you always wore when you were together, wafted toward him, triggering a flood of memories.

As the photographer arranged everyone into position, you brushed your hair back, and that's when Mingyu noticed it—a ring wrapped around your left finger. His heart sank, and a wave of conflicting emotions washed over him. You’re engaged? he wondered, his mind racing.

A mix of shock, sadness, and confusion gripped him. Part of him had held onto the hope that, despite the time and distance, there might still be a chance for the two of you to rekindle what you once had. But now, seeing that ring, reality hit him hard.

He tried to keep his composure, but his mind was in turmoil. He remembered all the moments you shared, the dreams you talked about, the future you once envisioned together. The thought of you being engaged to someone else was like a punch to the gut.

Mingyu forced a smile for the camera, but inside, he felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under him. He glanced at you, wondering if you were truly happy and if the person who had given you that ring knew just how special you were. Did they know your little quirks, your favorite things, and the way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you loved?

The photographer called for everyone to get closer, and Mingyu found himself standing right behind you. The scent of your perfume was almost overwhelming now, and he struggled to focus on anything else. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart.

As the flash went off, Mingyu realized he had to accept the situation. He had no right to feel jealous or upset. You had moved on, found happiness with someone else, and that was something he needed to respect. But the realization didn't make the pain any less.

After the photos were taken, Mingyu stepped aside, feeling a profound sense of loss. He had to come to terms with the fact that you were no longer his and that your paths had diverged. But as he watched you laugh and talk with the other guests, he couldn't help but hope that whoever had given you that ring cherished you as much as he did.

As Mingyu stepped aside after the photos, a deep sense of regret washed over him, intensifying with each passing moment. The sight of the ring on your finger brought back the memory of the night you asked to separate. He had replayed that scene countless times in his mind, wishing he had done things differently.

He remembered how you had looked at him, your eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "Mingyu, I think we need to take a break," you had said, your voice trembling slightly. At the time, he had been too caught up in his own confusion and frustration to truly understand the depth of your feelings.

Instead of staying and talking things through, he had walked away, convinced that space would be the best solution. He thought that maybe, with time, things would work themselves out. But as the days turned into weeks and then months, the distance between you only grew, and before he knew it, you were gone from his life.

Now, standing at Jeonghan's wedding, the weight of his decision felt heavier than ever. He regretted leaving that night, regretted not fighting harder for what you had. He should have listened, should have stayed to understand the fears and doubts you were experiencing. Instead, he had let his pride and stubbornness drive a wedge between you.

Mingyu's eyes followed you as you mingled with the other guests, your laughter ringing out, a bittersweet sound to his ears. You seemed happy, and that was what he wanted for you, even if it wasn't with him. But the regret gnawed at him, a constant reminder of what he had lost.

As the evening progressed, Mingyu found himself lost in thought, barely aware of the festivities around him. Seungcheol, noticing his friend's distant expression, approached him once more.

"You okay?" Seungcheol asked gently, his concern evident.

Mingyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just... I keep thinking about the night we broke up. I should have stayed, Seungcheol. I should have fought for her."

Seungcheol nodded, understanding the pain in Mingyu's voice. "We all make mistakes, Mingyu. What's important is what you do now. Maybe it's time to let go of the past and focus on the present. Who knows? Maybe there's still a chance for you to find closure, if not with her, then within yourself."

Mingyu pondered Seungcheol's words, knowing there was truth in them. He couldn't change the past, but he could learn from it. And maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to move forward.

As the night went on, Mingyu made a silent promise to himself. He would try to find peace with his regrets and open his heart to whatever the future might hold. And as he watched you, now engaged and seemingly content, he wished you nothing but happiness, even if it meant letting go of the dreams he once had for the two of you.

*

The little things had snowballed into something that finally hit you that night. You were exhausted from work, your phone buzzing incessantly with texts from Mingyu. Just as you managed to lay yourself on the couch, the door suddenly burst open, revealing Mingyu looking restless and breathless.

"Where have you been?! I've been trying to reach you all day," he demanded, his voice tinged with frustration and worry.

You sighed deeply, turning your back to him, too drained to respond. Mingyu let out a humorless chuckle, stepping closer. He grabbed your shoulder and turned you around, not realizing his strength might hurt you, and shoved his phone in your face, displaying your unread chat messages from the past week.

"You haven't read my texts for almost a week, Y/N. Don't you know I'm worried?!"

You felt the sting of his grip, but more than that, the sting of the situation settled heavily in your chest. You placed your hand on the sore spot, rising from the couch with what little energy you had left, trying to walk away to the bedroom without a word.

"Now you think I'm invisible? What the fuck, Y/N?" Mingyu's voice rose, a mix of anger and hurt.

Tears welled up in your eyes, a combination of physical pain, exhaustion, and emotional turmoil. You turned to face Mingyu, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just so tired, Mingyu. Tired of everything."

He stood there, watching you closely, his initial anger fading as he saw the tears streaming down your face. "Why didn't you just tell me?" His tone softened now, filled with concern.

You shook your head, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of everything. "I didn't want to burden you. You've got your own things to deal with."

Mingyu's expression softened further, but a flicker of hurt crossed his features. "We're supposed to share the burdens, remember? That's what being together means."

You looked into his eyes, searching for the reassurance you desperately needed. "I know," you admitted softly, "but it feels like we've been drifting apart. And tonight, I just... I couldn't handle it."

Mingyu's concern turned into frustration, his voice rising slightly. "So you decided to handle it all on your own? Do you know how that makes me feel, Y/N?"

You flinched at the edge in his voice, feeling the weight of his disappointment. "Mingyu, I didn't mean..."

"No," he interrupted, his tone sharp. "You didn't mean to shut me out when I've been trying so hard to be there for you?"

You bit your lip, tears now flowing freely. "I... I didn't know how to ask for help. I thought I could handle it."

"And now look where we are," Mingyu said bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "You're drowning in silence, and I'm left feeling useless."

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I didn't realize..."

Mingyu closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to calm himself. When he opened them again, his gaze softened, but the hurt was still evident. "I love you, Y/N," he said quietly. "But I can't keep fighting for a place in your life if you won't let me in."

You reached out to him, wanting to bridge the distance between you. "Mingyu, please..."

He stepped back, shaking his head. "I need time to figure things out, Y/N. I can't do this if you're pushing me away."

You felt a hollow ache in your chest as Mingyu's words hung in the air. The idea of losing him was unbearable, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were dragging him down, that you were undeserving of his love and patience. Summoning what little strength you had left, you took a shaky breath and spoke the words that felt like shards of glass in your throat.

"Mingyu," you began, your voice trembling, "maybe it's best if we... if we take a break."

His eyes widened in shock, the hurt in them deepening. "What? No, Y/N, that's not what I want."

You shook your head, tears still streaming down your face. "I can't keep hurting you like this. You deserve someone who can let you in, someone who can be there for you the way you are for me. And right now, I just... I can't."

"I need to figure things out on my own. I need to learn how to be okay with myself before I can be with you."

He looked at you for a long moment, searching for any sign that you might change your mind. When he found none, he nodded slowly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "If that's what you really want..."

"It's not what I want," you said, your voice barely audible. "But it's what I think is best for both of us."

With one last, lingering look, Mingyu turned and walked away, each step feeling like a knife to your heart. You watched him go, knowing that you were making the hardest decision of your life, hoping that someday, you could find your way back to each other.

As the door closed behind him, you sank to the floor, overcome with grief and loneliness. The silence of the room was deafening, but you knew that this was the first step towards healing, for both you and Mingyu.

As the door clicked shut behind Mingyu, a wave of emptiness washed over you, mingled with an unsettling sense of disappointment. You had expected him to protest more, to fight harder to stay. Instead, he had walked away, leaving you to grapple with the decision alone.

You sat there, staring at the door, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic whirlpool. The weight of his absence pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. Was this really what you wanted? Or had you hoped, deep down, that he would refuse to leave, that he would insist on staying and helping you through this?

The room felt colder, the silence oppressive. Your mind replayed the conversation, analyzing every word, every gesture. Had he given up too easily? Or was it your fault for pushing him away in the first place?

As you sat there, the silence of the room pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket. The ache in your chest grew with each passing second. Your thoughts spiraled deeper into despair, and a new, more insidious fear began to take root.

Maybe Mingyu had had enough of you. Maybe he was already tired of dealing with your endless complications and emotional turmoil. Maybe he, like everyone else, had decided you weren't worth the fight.

Your mind flashed back to countless moments in your past, memories you had tried so hard to bury. You remembered the times when your emotions had been dismissed, your thoughts invalidated. When you had tried to reach out, only to be met with indifference or impatience.

Your parents, who had always told you to toughen up, to stop being so sensitive. Friends who had drifted away because your struggles were too much for them to handle. Teachers who had dismissed your anxiety as laziness, your depression as a phase. You had learned, painfully and slowly, that you had to figure things out on your own because no one else would.

And now Mingyu had done the same. The last person you had hoped would stick by you had walked away. You had pushed him, yes, but you had also hoped, deep down, that he would push back. That he would prove he was different. But he hadn't.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you let them fall, each one a testament to the weight of your pain. It felt like you were falling into an abyss, a dark void where every painful memory and fear resurfaced.

You recalled a particularly vivid memory from your childhood. You were eight years old, sitting on the steps of your house, crying because the neighborhood kids had teased you for being different. Your mother had found you there, her expression a mixture of exasperation and disappointment.

"Why are you crying again?" she had asked, her tone sharp. "You need to learn to handle things on your own. The world isn't going to coddle you."

That had been the first of many lessons in self-reliance, each one more painful than the last. You had learned to hide your pain, to smile when you were breaking inside, to carry burdens that felt too heavy to bear.

And now, sitting alone in the silence of your apartment, you realized that those lessons had led you to this moment. You had pushed Mingyu away, convinced that you had to handle everything on your own, that you were too much for anyone else to handle. And he had walked away, just like everyone else.

The weight of your loneliness was crushing. You curled up on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, and let the sobs wrack your body. It felt like your heart was breaking into a million pieces, each one sharper than the last.

You stayed there for what felt like hours, lost in the whirlwind of your thoughts and memories. Eventually, the tears slowed, and a cold numbness settled in. You knew you had to pick yourself up, to move forward somehow. But the path ahead felt more daunting than ever.

Maybe you were destined to be alone, to carry your burdens without help. Maybe you were too complicated, too difficult for anyone to truly love. And maybe, just maybe, the one person you had thought would fight for you had finally realized it too.

With a heavy heart, you forced yourself to stand, wiping away the remnants of your tears. You knew you had to find a way to heal, to navigate this pain. But for now, all you could do was take one small step at a time, hoping that someday, you might find the strength to believe in love again.

*

Seungcheol entered the car as soon as his daughter was settled in the backseat. He threw one last glance through the rearview mirror and smiled at the sight of her slumbering after spending all of her energy today. Her peaceful face was a welcome relief from the emotional turmoil of the evening.

"Are we gonna let him be like that?" Nari's voice broke the silence, and Seungcheol could sense she was referring to Mingyu.

He turned on the engine and hummed thoughtfully, "It's the best for him right now."

Nari stared at Seungcheol with a worried look, her concern evident. "But Y/N is not engaged. It's just a ring," she said, finally voicing the worry she'd been holding since the venue at Jeonghan's wedding.

"That's exactly why this is best for him," Seungcheol replied. "He couldn't even confront her and ask about the ring. He just stood there, trapped in his own thoughts, just like what happened two years ago."

Images of you and Mingyu after the breakup flashed through his mind. Mingyu, lost in his own assumptions, believing you didn't want him anymore. You, burdened by your unfinished past and struggling to heal.

"Y/N is different now, though," Nari insisted softly. "She's healed. Maybe there's a chance for them."

Seungcheol glanced at his wife and chuckled softly. "And what about Mingyu? Boys never learn, babe. It takes a man to confront a woman."

Nari sighed deeply, her eyes reflecting a mix of hope and sadness. "I just thought they were 'the right people at the wrong time.'"

Seungcheol grabbed his wife's hand and pecked it gently. "There is no 'right time,' babe. People make the time right. Mingyu couldn't do that. He might look perfect on the outside, but he's still a human with his own flaws."

Nari looked out the window, her thoughts seemingly far away. "Do you think they'll ever get another chance?"

Seungcheol was quiet for a moment, considering her question. "Maybe. Life has a way of bringing people back together when the time is right. But for now, they need to work on themselves. Y/N has come a long way, and Mingyu needs to catch up."

"But," Seungcheol continued, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and realism, "if they are truly meant to be, they'll find their way back to each other. And if not, they'll still be stronger and better for having known each other."

Nari squeezed his hand gently, her eyes softening. "I hope so. They both deserve happiness."

Seungcheol smiled at her, appreciating her empathy. "They do. And they'll find it, one way or another. We just have to give them time and trust that they'll make the right choices."

As they drove away from the venue, the city lights gradually fading into the distance, Seungcheol felt a sense of peace settle over him. He hoped that Mingyu and you would find the courage to face your fears and the strength to build the lives you deserved. For now, all he could do was support his friend and trust that everything would unfold as it should.

[urdreamydoodles]

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

A chaotic night at the carnival with your boyfriend (Part.1)

You and your boyfriend embark on a chaotic carnival adventure, where their unique personalities lead to unpredictable situations.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Erik Lehnsherr, Warren Worthington III, Bobby Drake, Pietro Maximoff, Wade Wilson & Cable

Let's forget mutant rac*sm for one night, 'kay? No humans looking you weird because of who you are. These headcanons are pure joy.

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

- Logan wasn’t exactly the carnival type. When he suggested taking you to one, you weren’t sure what had gotten into him. But there you were, walking hand-in-hand with him through the bustling crowd of people, the scent of popcorn and fried food filling the air. His rough exterior clashed humorously with the colorful surroundings, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way he grumbled every time someone bumped into him or a ride screeched too loudly. He glanced down at you, raising an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

- “You are,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. “This doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”

- Logan grunted but gave a small smirk. “Figured you might like it. And besides, could use a little break from the usual crap.”

- You smiled at his thoughtfulness, squeezing his hand. You weren’t sure how long the peace would last, though, knowing Logan’s knack for attracting trouble. As if on cue, you spotted a strength-testing game nearby, the kind with the hammer and the bell at the top. Logan’s eyes narrowed as he noticed it too, and you instantly knew what was coming.

- “Wanna give it a try, tough guy?” you teased, already imagining the chaos this could cause.

- “Oh, I’m doin’ it,” Logan growled, determination in his voice as he dragged you over to the booth. The carnival worker looked a little too confident, like he’d never seen someone like Logan in his life. Logan picked up the hammer with ease, spinning it in his hands before positioning himself in front of the game.

- “You sure about this?” you asked, giggling at the way he sized up the machine like it was his next battle. But before you could say anything else, Logan swung the hammer down with full force. The bell didn’t just ring—it practically flew off the top of the pole with a loud clang, leaving the carnival worker standing there, slack-jawed.

- People around the game burst into laughter and applause, while Logan just shrugged and handed the hammer back like it was nothing. “Cheap machine,” he muttered, as if it had been a weak challenge. You couldn’t stop laughing, your sides aching as you tried to catch your breath.

- The carnival worker, still stunned, offered you both a giant stuffed bear as a prize. “For your troubles,” he said, eyeing Logan warily. You gladly accepted the bear, knowing Logan wasn’t the type to care about prizes.

- As you walked away, you leaned into Logan, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “You broke the carnival.”

- “Wasn’t my fault,” he grumbled, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. “Damn thing wasn’t built right.”

- Despite the chaotic start, the night continued with more laughs as Logan tried his best to blend in. He won you a few more prizes, though you could tell he was holding back on most of the games, trying not to cause too much destruction. The bumper cars were another story, though. The moment Logan got behind the wheel, all bets were off. He went after anyone who came close, slamming into other cars with a grin that told you he was enjoying this way too much.

- When the night ended, you were both loaded down with stuffed animals and prizes. “Well, that was… something,” you said, glancing up at Logan. He looked more relaxed than you’d seen him in a while, and despite the chaos, you were glad you had come.

- Logan gave you a sideways look, his hand finding yours again. “Yeah, it was somethin’,” he agreed. “But don’t think I’ll be doin’ this every week.”

- You laughed, pulling him close for a kiss. “Maybe once in a while. Just for fun.”

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

- “You ready for dis, chérie?” Remy asked, his grin wide as he led you through the carnival entrance. His excitement was contagious, and you found yourself getting caught up in the lights and sounds, despite knowing that anything involving Remy was bound to lead to some kind of trouble. He held your hand loosely, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he scanned the carnival with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

- “Ready for what, exactly?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. You knew better than to expect a quiet night when it came to Remy. The man thrived on chaos and fun, and carnivals were like his personal playground.

- “Everything!” Remy said dramatically, sweeping his arm to gesture at the carnival games, rides, and food stalls. “We gon’ win every prize, eat everythin’, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll take you up on dat Ferris wheel.”

- You laughed, already bracing yourself for whatever chaos Remy was about to unleash. He dragged you toward the game booths first, eyeing the ring toss with a suspicious amount of confidence. “How ‘bout we start with somethin’ easy?”

- Remy tossed a few rings with the finesse of someone who had probably spent his life perfecting sleight of hand tricks. He made it look effortless, hitting the targets every time. The game worker handed you a small stuffed animal as a prize, but Remy wasn’t satisfied.

- “Non, non, I got more in me,” he said with a wink, flipping a coin in his fingers as he eyed the larger prizes. You tried to pull him away, knowing what was coming, but it was too late. Remy wasn’t playing fair anymore. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed a ring that glowed faintly with kinetic energy, sending it perfectly onto one of the highest-scoring targets.

- The worker’s eyes widened, clearly confused by how Remy had managed that, but he handed over the grand prize—a ridiculously large stuffed tiger. “Here you go,” he said, casting Remy a suspicious look.

- “Merci, mon ami,” Remy said smoothly, handing the tiger to you with a flourish. “For you, ma belle.”

- You could only shake your head, trying to hold back your laughter. “You cheated,” you whispered, though you couldn’t help but smile at the way he was grinning like a kid who had gotten away with something.

- “Just a lil’ help,” Remy said, shrugging as he slung his arm around your shoulders. “Dat’s the fun, non?”

- The night continued in much the same way. Remy charmed his way through every booth, somehow managing to win every game despite the odds. He even convinced you to go on the Ferris wheel with him, though the moment the wheel started turning, he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “You scared of heights, chérie?”

- “Not until you said that,” you muttered, gripping the safety bar a little tighter. Remy laughed, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as the Ferris wheel carried you both up to the top. From there, the chaos of the carnival seemed far below you, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

- That was until you got off the Ferris wheel and Remy decided to try his luck at one last game—a dart-throwing booth. “Watch dis,” he said confidently, picking up the darts. You watched, amused, as he tossed the first dart with perfect precision. It hit the target dead center, earning him another prize.

- But as Remy lined up his second dart, someone bumped into him, causing him to miss the target completely. The dart hit the edge of the booth and sent one of the stuffed animals flying into the air.

- The game worker let out a startled yell, and before you knew it, Remy was laughing so hard he could barely stand. “Oops,” he said, though you could tell he wasn’t sorry at all.

- You grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the booth before things got worse. “I think that’s enough chaos for one night.”

- Remy flashed you a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Ah, but you had fun, didn’t you?”

- You couldn’t deny it. “Yeah, I did. But next time, maybe we try something a little less… explosive.”

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

- “Zis is amazing!” Kurt exclaimed as he looked around the carnival, his excitement contagious. His tail flicked back and forth as he took everything in—the lights, the music, the people. You smiled at his enthusiasm, knowing that Kurt’s childlike wonder could turn even the most ordinary event into something magical. But you also knew that wherever Kurt went, chaos was never far behind.

- “It’s just a carnival, Kurt,” you teased, though you couldn’t help but smile at how happy he looked. “You act like you’ve never been to one before.”

- Kurt grinned, his fangs peeking out in that charming way that always made your heart skip a beat. “Ja, but every time is like ze first time when you’re with me, mein Schatz.”

- You rolled your eyes but let him lead you through the crowd, his arm wrapped around your waist protectively. You could already see him eyeing the different carnival games with curiosity, and you knew it was only a matter of time before something went wrong.

- The first sign of chaos came when Kurt spotted a haunted house attraction. His eyes lit up, and before you could protest, he had already bought tickets and was dragging you inside. “Zis vill be fun!” he promised, his tail curling in excitement.

- The haunted house was dark, and cheap jump scares popped out from every corner. Despite knowing they were fake, you still jumped every time something came at you. Kurt, on the other hand, was having the time of his life, laughing at every skeleton or ghoul that leaped out from the shadows. His hand remained on your lower back, guiding you through the twisting hallways, but you noticed his tail twitching in anticipation.

- Just as you both rounded a corner, a particularly loud scream echoed through the room, followed by a life-sized animatronic zombie lunging toward you. Without thinking, Kurt instinctively "bamfed"—disappearing into a cloud of smoke and reappearing right in front of the zombie. “Ach! You scared mein Schatz!” he exclaimed dramatically, holding out his hands as if scolding the fake creature.

- You burst into laughter, doubling over as Kurt’s display turned into a full-fledged performance, complete with mock outrage. “You realize it’s not real, right?” you said, trying to catch your breath between giggles.

- “Real or not, I vill not stand for zis disrespect!” Kurt said, grinning as his tail curled around your wrist. He gave a wink before "bamfing" again, appearing just behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

- As the haunted house continued, Kurt couldn’t resist teleporting around, jumping ahead to surprise you or appearing beside some of the animatronics to “challenge” them to a duel. By the time you reached the exit, both of you were breathless from laughter, and the haunted house employees were giving Kurt curious, amused looks.

- “Zat vas wunderbar!” Kurt declared, pulling you close for a quick kiss. “Ve should do zat again, ja?”

- “Maybe without the bamfing next time,” you teased, though you couldn’t deny how much fun it had been.

- The rest of the night continued in much the same way. Kurt’s excitement was infectious, and he couldn’t help but teleport around the carnival, grabbing prizes for you and whisking you off to different booths. At one point, he even teleported both of you onto the Ferris wheel, much to the operator’s confusion.

- As the night came to a close, Kurt wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both watched the fireworks light up the sky. “Danke, mein Liebling,” he whispered, his tail wrapping around your wrist gently. “For making zis night perfect.”

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

- Scott had insisted on going to the carnival with a plan. A structured plan. “We’ll hit the games first, then maybe the rides, and after that, we can grab some food,” he said confidently, holding a map of the carnival in one hand as he walked beside you. You couldn’t help but laugh at how seriously he was taking it, but that was just Scott.

- “You know, you can relax a little,” you teased, nudging him playfully. “It’s a carnival, not a mission.”

- Scott gave you a half-smile, adjusting his sunglasses. “I just want to make sure we get to do everything. There’s a lot to cover.”

- You appreciated his effort, but you knew Scott’s love of structure would inevitably clash with the chaos of the carnival. It didn’t take long for things to spiral. The first sign of trouble came when you reached the ring toss booth. Scott, ever the perfectionist, was determined to win you one of the giant stuffed animals. After missing a few rings, though, you could see the frustration building in his expression.

- “I don’t get it,” he muttered, lining up another ring. “I’m hitting the target dead-on. Why won’t it stay?”

- You bit back a laugh, knowing he was taking this far too seriously. “Maybe it’s rigged?” you suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

- Scott frowned, clearly not convinced. “I’m going to try again.”

- This time, you stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm gently. “It’s just a game, Scott. We can always try another one.”

- He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just wanted to win you something.”

- Your heart melted a little at his earnestness, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. “You don’t have to win me anything. I’m happy just being here with you.”

- Scott’s expression softened, and he gave you a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks.”

- Just as things seemed to calm down, the Ferris wheel caught Scott’s eye. “Let’s ride that next,” he suggested, glancing at the line. “We’ll be able to see the whole carnival from up there.”

- As you both waited in line, everything seemed to be going smoothly until, suddenly, one of the carnival workers tripped over a loose cable, causing a small electrical issue that made the Ferris wheel stop mid-turn. You both were stuck at the top, dangling in mid-air.

- “Great,” Scott muttered under his breath, looking at the non-functioning ride. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

- You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I guess even you can’t plan for everything.”

- He gave a resigned chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. Guess you’re right.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both watched the sun setting over the carnival from your vantage point in the sky.

Bobby Drake (Iceman)

- Bobby was the definition of carefree and fun, so when he suggested going to the carnival, you knew it would be a night full of laughter and mischief. “I’m gonna win you all the prizes,” he declared confidently as you both entered the carnival grounds, his hand laced with yours.

- “You sure about that?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “What if I’m better at the games than you?”

- Bobby grinned, giving you a playful wink. “Oh, I *know* you’re competitive, but just wait. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

- The first game you both hit was the basketball toss. Bobby stepped up, flashing the carnival worker a confident smile. “Watch and learn, babe.”

- You crossed your arms, smirking as you watched him make his first shot—and miss. “Looks like you need some practice,” you teased, stifling a laugh.

- Bobby shot you a mock glare before lining up his next shot. This time, he nailed it, and you couldn’t help but cheer for him. “Told you I had this,” he said, accepting the prize from the worker—a small stuffed penguin, fittingly enough.

- As the night went on, Bobby’s playful antics kept you entertained. He made sure to try every game, even using his powers in small, sneaky ways to give himself an advantage. At one point, he froze the water gun in the shooting game just enough to keep it steady, winning a giant stuffed bear that he proudly handed over to you.

- “How many stuffed animals do you think we can carry?” you asked, laughing as Bobby piled yet another prize into your arms.

- “As many as it takes,” he said with a grin, but you could see the gleam in his eye that told you he was up to something.

- Sure enough, when you reached the ice cream stand, Bobby couldn’t resist using his powers to show off. He created a small ice sculpture of a penguin on your cone, earning a round of applause from the nearby kids.

- “You’re such a show-off,” you said, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

- “I know, I know,” Bobby said, bowing dramatically. “But admit it—you love it.”

- As the night continued, Bobby couldn’t resist getting into a bit of chaos. When you both reached the bumper cars, he made sure to freeze the track just enough to send everyone spinning wildly out of control. You could hear people laughing, completely unaware of the small patch of ice Bobby had created beneath their wheels.

- “Bobby!” you scolded, though you were laughing too hard to sound serious. “You’re going to get us kicked out!”

- “Nah, they’ll never know,” he said, giving you a wink as you both raced around the track, dodging the other cars. It wasn’t long before the ride attendant started looking suspicious, though, and Bobby quickly melted the ice before anyone could catch on.

- By the end of the night, you were both loaded down with prizes and stuffed animals, your sides aching from laughter. “Best. Night. Ever,” Bobby declared as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close.

- “Yeah, it was pretty amazing,” you agreed, leaning into him as you walked toward the exit. “But next time, maybe we keep the chaos to a minimum?”

- “Where’s the fun in that?” Bobby teased, planting a kiss on your temple.

Warren Worthington III (Angel)

- Warren always had an air of elegance and class about him, even at a carnival. From the moment you walked through the entrance, his hand resting on your lower back, he looked slightly out of place among the flashing lights and crowds. Still, he indulged your excitement, smiling at the prospect of a night filled with games and rides.

- “I’m not exactly used to this kind of... environment,” he admitted, adjusting his shirt as if he were still in some high-class event. You laughed, giving his arm a playful squeeze. “Don’t worry, Warren. Just follow my lead. We’ll start with something simple, like the ring toss.”

- At the game booth, Warren gave a polite nod to the carnival worker and then tried his best to follow the rules of the game. Unfortunately for him, his first few tosses were way off the mark, despite his best efforts. His wings twitched in mild frustration, and you could tell he wasn’t used to failure in any form.

- “Here, let me show you how it’s done,” you teased, stepping up and grabbing a ring. To your own surprise, your first throw landed perfectly around the bottle. You turned to Warren with a grin. “See? It’s all about aiming where you’re not trying to go.”

- Warren chuckled softly, though you could see the competitive spark in his eyes. He was always one to rise to a challenge. After a few more tries, he finally won, and with his natural grace, he handed you a giant stuffed bear. “For you, love. Even if it did take me longer than I expected.”

- Things really started to get chaotic when you both decided to go on the bumper cars. You didn’t think much of it, but Warren’s wings made it difficult for him to comfortably sit in the small car. “This... might not have been the best idea,” he muttered as he tried to squeeze in.

- You were already laughing as you got into your own car, watching Warren struggle to fit his wings within the tight confines. As the ride started, Warren immediately became a target for all the kids driving around, probably because of his wings sticking out awkwardly. Every few seconds, a car would bump into him, sending him jolting forward.

- “Why did I agree to this?” he grumbled, trying to avoid another hit. But when you managed to ram your car into his with a mischievous grin, Warren shot you an amused glare. “You’re going to pay for that.”

- The rest of the ride was a blur of chaotic bumper car mayhem. You laughed the whole time, but you could tell Warren was both trying to enjoy himself and maintain his dignity. By the end of it, his feathers were slightly ruffled, and he gave you a look that said he was never doing that again.

- As the night continued, Warren did loosen up, especially when you convinced him to go on the Ferris wheel with you. The view from the top was breathtaking, and for a moment, he seemed to relax completely, his arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him. “Now *this* I can get used to,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple.

- By the end of the night, despite the chaos, Warren admitted he had fun. “Next time, let’s try something a little more... refined,” he teased, though you knew he’d come back to the carnival with you any time you wanted.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

- Erik wasn’t exactly the kind of person who frequented carnivals. You knew it from the moment you suggested it, and the slight arch of his eyebrow told you he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “A carnival? You’re serious?” he asked, arms crossed.

- “It’ll be fun,” you insisted, grabbing his hand. “Come on, Erik, when was the last time you let yourself just relax and enjoy something silly?”

- He sighed, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “For you, I suppose I can make an exception.” That’s how you found yourself walking into the brightly lit carnival with one of the most powerful mutants in the world by your side, looking decidedly out of place but determined to humor you.

- It didn’t take long for things to start going wrong. Erik, being the master of magnetism, unintentionally interfered with several of the carnival rides. You were both standing in line for a simple spinning ride when it suddenly shut down. The operator seemed confused, scratching his head as the machinery stalled.

- “I didn’t even touch anything,” Erik muttered, though you shot him a knowing look. “Really, I didn’t.”

- “Maybe we should stick to games where you don’t have to be near anything metal,” you suggested with a grin, tugging him toward the balloon dart booth.

- Erik’s mood lightened a bit when you both started playing the carnival games. He didn’t have much interest in stuffed animals or prizes, but watching you get competitive at the ring toss and dart games made him smile in his own subtle way. “You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?” he teased, watching as you missed another shot.

- “It’s harder than it looks!” you argued, but Erik just chuckled. With a flick of his fingers, he subtly guided one of your darts into a balloon, making it pop instantly. You turned to him with wide eyes. “Did you just—”

- “No idea what you’re talking about,” he said smoothly, smirking as the carnival worker handed you a prize.

- The real chaos came when you convinced him to try the strength tester, the game where you hit a hammer and try to ring the bell. Erik didn’t even bother to use his full strength—just a quick, casual swing, and the bell practically flew off the top, clattering onto the ground.

- “Well, that’s one way to win,” you said, trying to stifle your laughter as the carnival worker stared in shock.

- Erik shrugged, looking mildly amused as he glanced at the broken bell. “Not my fault they didn’t build it properly.”

- By the end of the night, despite the mishaps, Erik seemed to have enjoyed himself more than he’d admit. “It was... tolerable,” he said with a smirk, pulling you close. “But next time, let’s do something less likely to fall apart around me.”

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

- Going to a carnival with Pietro was a whirlwind—literally. From the moment you stepped through the gates, he was off, zipping from one game to the next, barely giving you time to catch up. “Come on, slowpoke!” he called out, already standing at the dart booth before you could even take your first step.

- “You’re impossible,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help but smile. Pietro’s energy was infectious, and you knew tonight would be full of chaos.

- It started with the games. Pietro was determined to win you every prize in the carnival, though his speed made it hard for him to slow down enough to actually play. At the ring toss, he zoomed through several rings before realizing none of them had landed. “This game is rigged,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

- “Maybe you should try slowing down,” you suggested with a grin, stepping up to take your turn. To your surprise, you managed to win on your second try, earning a small stuffed animal. Pietro looked at you with wide eyes, clearly impressed. “Okay, maybe you’re just better at this than I am.”

- The real chaos, though, came when you convinced him to go on the carousel. It seemed like a harmless enough ride, but as soon as it started moving, Pietro couldn’t resist the urge to speed it up. Before you knew it, the horses were spinning around at an alarming rate, and people were shouting in surprise.

- “Pietro!” you yelled, holding onto the pole for dear life. “Slow it down!”

- With a laugh, he finally let the ride return to its normal speed, though the other riders were clearly a little dizzy when they got off. “What? I thought it could use a little excitement,” he said with a mischievous grin.

- “You’re going to get us kicked out,” you teased, shaking your head as you both moved on to the next attraction.

- The bumper cars were a whole different level of chaos. Pietro’s speed allowed him to dodge every car with ease, leaving the other riders frustrated as they tried to catch him. You, on the other hand, found yourself being bumped into every few seconds as you tried to keep up.

- “You’re supposed to be on my team!” you shouted as Pietro zipped past you, laughing as he narrowly avoided another car.

- “Sorry, babe, no teams in bumper cars!” he called back, clearly enjoying himself.

- By the end of the night, you were both breathless from laughter and running around the carnival. Pietro wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you walked toward the exit. “That was fun,” he admitted, his usual cocky grin softening a bit. “We should do it again sometime.”

- “Maybe next time you’ll slow down long enough for me to actually enjoy it,” you teased, though you knew you wouldn’t change a thing about the chaotic, whirlwind night you’d had with him.

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

- A carnival date with Wade, was bound to be one of the wildest experiences of your life. The second you stepped into the carnival, he was bouncing around like a kid who’d had way too much sugar. “Oh baby, this is gonna be epic! Carnies, cotton candy, and chaos—three of my favorite things!”

- Wade insisted on playing every game, but instead of trying to win prizes, he was more interested in “spicing things up.” At the dart throw, he purposely hit the ceiling instead of the balloons, declaring, “It’s reverse psychology! They’ll never see it coming!” The poor booth operator was at a loss for words, especially when Wade whipped out his katana, threatening to “pop them all at once.”

- “Wade, no weapons at the carnival,” you reminded him with a chuckle, pulling him away before he could get you both kicked out.

- The real chaos began when Wade spotted the Ferris wheel. “Do you know what this needs? A dramatic Ferris wheel kiss!” Before you could protest, Wade dragged you into a cart, somehow managing to cause a malfunction that stopped the wheel at the very top. The two of you were suspended in mid-air as Wade dramatically dipped you, trying to plant a kiss while also almost flipping you both out of the cart.

- “Wade! We’re gonna fall!” you shrieked, laughing despite yourself.

- “Then we’ll fall in love—literally!” he quipped, still holding onto you with one arm while the other waved madly for the carnival operator to fix the ride.

- After finally getting back on the ground, Wade couldn’t resist trying the bumper cars. This, naturally, turned into a high-speed chase where he decided to narrate the entire thing like a car chase in an action movie. “And Deadpool swerves to the left, narrowly avoiding that kid with cotton candy! But wait, here comes the love of his life, ready to T-bone him from the right!”

- By the time you left the carnival, both of you were banned from at least three rides, Wade had convinced a few people he was actually part of the entertainment, and you couldn’t stop laughing. As the night wound down, Wade gave you a surprisingly soft smile, taking your hand in his.

- “Y’know, this wasn’t half bad,” he said, squeezing your fingers. “You’re pretty fun, babe. And that’s saying something, ‘cause I’m the king of fun.”

- “You make chaos fun,” you teased back, leaning into him as you walked out of the carnival. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Nathan Summers (Cable)

- A carnival with Cable was a different kind of adventure. Nathan wasn’t exactly the carnival type, and you could tell by the way he scanned the crowd the moment you stepped in, his metal arm gleaming under the bright lights. “Do you ever stop being on alert?” you teased him, looping your arm through his.

- He gave you a half-smile, the kind that made your heart race. “Force of habit. But if you want me to relax, I’ll give it a shot.”

- The night started off relatively normal, at least by Cable standards. He begrudgingly tried a few games, and while he wasn’t exactly into it, you could tell he was making an effort for you. “This is rigged,” he muttered after missing a shot at the basketball hoop, his brow furrowed in concentration.

- “Or maybe you’re just out of practice,” you teased, and for a moment, you thought you saw a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. But things took a turn when you both decided to ride the carousel.

- Halfway through, the ride glitched, and suddenly you found yourselves not in the carnival but in a different time period entirely. “Nathan, did you—?”

- “I didn’t do anything!” he said, his eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what had gone wrong. The carousel horses were now galloping through a war-torn landscape, and Cable immediately shifted into battle mode.

- “We have to get out of here,” he growled, using his telekinesis to shield you from flying debris. Just when you thought you were stuck in this alternate timeline forever, Cable managed to fix the glitch, and you both tumbled back into the carnival with a thud.

- “Okay, no more rides,” you panted, laughing as you collapsed against him. Cable chuckled softly, wrapping his metal arm around you protectively.

- “Yeah, maybe we stick to something a little less... chaotic,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple. But despite the madness, you couldn’t deny that the chaos had been kind of thrilling.

- As you left the carnival, Cable squeezed your hand, his usually stoic expression softening. “Next time, let’s just do dinner,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

[badathumanemotions]

Beyond Expectations (V1)

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader MDNI Category: Smut CW: Degradation Kink, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Riding, Fingering, Creampie, Cumplay, Size Kink, Small d Spencer, Virgin Spencer, Dominate Reader. WC: 8,981 After driving Spencer home he invites Y/N in out of the rain.

Spencer has always been insecure about his size, Y/N shows him he has nothing to worry about. (Not Poof Read) Master List

Spencer Reid was a man of routine, his life as meticulously organized as the stacks of paperwork lining his desk at the BAU. His spectacles perched precariously on the bridge of his nose as he peered into the abyss of criminal psychology. The dimly lit room of the Behavioral Analysis Unit hummed with the murmur of his colleagues' voices, each one a cog in the intricate machine of justice. His mind raced, piecing together the puzzle of the latest crime scene with the finesse of a master chess player.

Yet amidst the chaos of their work, Spencer's thoughts often drifted to his colleague, Y/N L/N. Her sharp wit and unyielding resolve had captured his attention from the moment he had met her. He'd noticed the way her eyes sparkled when she cracked a case, the gentle sway of her hips as she walked, and the softness of her lips when she spoke. But it was her confidence that truly fascinated him, a contrast to his own insecurities about his physical appearance.

The rain had started to fall in a gentle patter against the office window, casting a gloomy veil over the city. Spencer, lost in thought, barely registered the droplets of water tracing patterns down the glass. Y/N, noticing his preoccupation, approached him with a knowing smile. "Looks like you're going to need a ride home tonight, Reid," she said, her voice like a siren's call, pulling him from his introspection.

Spencer looked up at her, his heart skipping a beat. He had always felt a palpable tension between them, a silent dance of desire that he was too shy to acknowledge. But the way she offered, the smoulder in her eyes, suggested something more than just a friendly gesture. He nodded, trying to keep his voice steady. "Thank you, Y/N. I'd appreciate that."

They made their way to the elevator, the silence thick with unspoken intentions. The doors slid open, revealing the empty metal box that would take them down to the parking garage. She stepped in first, her heels clicking against the floor as she turned to face him. Spencer followed, his eyes drawn to the curve of her hips as she leaned against the railing. The doors closed with a soft thud, sealing them in their own little world.

Y/N reached over and pressed the button for the ground floor, her hand lingering on the panel a moment longer than necessary. She stepped closer, her body heat radiating towards him.Spencer's breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest like a wild animal trying to escape. The elevator descended, the lights flickering as it passed each floor. The cables groaned with the weight of their anticipation, each second stretching into an eternity.

When the elevator reached the parking garage, the doors slid open to reveal the dimly lit space. The scent of rain and asphalt filled the air as they stepped out into the cool embrace of the night. Y/N led the way to her car, the sharp click of her heels echoing through the cavernous garage.

They slid into the confined space of her car, the leather seats cool against their skin. She turned the ignition, the engine purring to life, and reversed out of the spot. As they drove through the garage, the headlights cast eerie shadows on the concrete walls, illuminating their faces in brief moments of stark clarity. Spencer's heart hammered in his chest as he stole glances at Y/N, her eyes focused on the road ahead, her lips curled into a knowing smile.

He tried to start a casual conversation, his voice wavering slightly. "So, how was your day?" But his usual eloquence had abandoned him, leaving only a stumbling mess of words. He felt his cheeks flush, the heat of his embarrassment creeping up his neck.

Y/N glanced at him, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "My day was fine, Reid," she replied, her tone a bit more playful than usual. "How about yours?"

Spencer's mind raced, trying to come up with something, anything, to say that wouldn't make him sound like a babbling fool. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of nerves. "It was… productive," he managed, his voice a whisper compared to the roar of his thoughts.

Y/N's smile grew wider, the corner of her mouth quirking up. "It's Friday night, Reid. We've got a rare free weekend ahead of us. You should let your hair down," she said, her eyes flicking to the side of his head where his short, slick hair grazed his ears.

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Spencer swallowed, his throat dry. "I-I don't know if I know how to do that," he confessed, his gaze drifting to her profile, illuminated by the dashboard lights.

The rain grew heavier as they approached his apartment, the wipers swiping back and forth in a rhythmic dance to keep the windshield clear. Y/N slowed down, her knuckles white on the steering wheel as she navigated the treacherous streets. Water gushed in rivers along the gutters, the night's darkness closing in around them. The city lights were a blurred mosaic through the downpour, reflecting off the wet pavement.

Spencer couldn't help but worry about her driving in such conditions. He knew she was capable, but the intensity of the storm was unnerving. "Are you sure you're okay to drive in this?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Y/N shot him a sideways glance, her eyes filled with a mischievous glint. "I've driven in worse, Reid," she said, her voice a sultry purr that seemed to resonate through the car. "But if you're worried, I could always wait the storm out at your place"

The suggestion was loaded, a silent invitation that made Spencer's stomach flip-flop with excitement. His cheeks burned with a blush that was impossible to hide in the dim car interior. He knew what she was offering, and the thought of it made his heart race. His mind raced with scenarios, each more tantalizing than the last. He wanted that so badly, the ache in his chest was almost painful.

As they pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building, the rain had turned into a torrential downpour. The droplets hit the windshield with such ferocity that it was hard to see anything beyond the smeared lights of the other vehicles. Spencer's eyes remained glued to Y/N, his breath shallow, his thoughts racing faster than the water droplets that danced across the glass.

Her proposition hung in the air, thick and charged like the electricity that crackled outside. He tried to respond with the same cool confidence she exuded, but his voice betrayed him, coming out as a strained whisper. "I-I guess that could work." The words barely left his mouth before he felt a rush of heat to his cheeks, hoping she couldn't hear the desperation in his voice.

They dashed through the rain, their laughter mingling with the sound of the downpour. Spencer fumbled with his keys, his hands shaking with anticipation. Finally, the lock clicked open, and they tumbled into the warm embrace of his apartment. Y/N shrugged off her wet coat, revealing the curve of her breasts under her tight blouse, and Spencer couldn't help but stare. He felt a sudden jolt of excitement, mixed with a hint of fear. He had always been so sure that she was out of his league.

The apartment was a testament to his solitary life, filled with towering bookshelves that lined the walls from floor to ceiling. The scent of old paper and leather bound volumes filled the air, creating a cozy cocoon that was as much a part of Spencer as his glasses. Y/N took it all in with a nod of approval, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she took a step closer to him.

"Nice place," she murmured, her voice low and sultry. She moved through the room, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor as she made her way to the sofa, her hips swaying in a way that was both mesmerizing and infuriating. Spencer felt his throat tighten as he watched her, his eyes drawn to the way the fabric of her blouse clung to her damp skin.

"Thanks," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. He closed the door behind them, the sound of the storm outside now muffled by the thick barrier of his apartment. The room felt smaller with her in it, the air charged with a tension that made it difficult to breathe.

Y/N turned to face him, her eyes gleaming with something that made his stomach flip. "You know, Reid," she began, her voice a sweet caress that seemed to stroke his very soul. "You've always been so… proper." She took a step closer, her heels clicking with every movement. "But I have a feeling that underneath all that," she paused, her eyes raking over his lanky frame, "there's a wild side just dying to come out and play."

Spencer swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He had never seen this side of Y/N, this seductive, playful creature that seemed to have emerged from the shadows of the storm. Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he found himself nodding in silent agreement.

"But you know," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper, "I've noticed something about you, Reid." She took another step closer, the scent of her perfume, something floral and exotic, wrapping around him like a warm embrace. "You're always so… inhibited. So concerned with what others think."

Spencer's heart hammered in his chest as she reached out, her fingertips grazing the fabric of his shirt. He could feel the heat of her body, so close to his own, and he knew that this was his moment. He had to be brave, had to take the plunge into the unknown.

Y/N stepped closer, her breath warm against his skin as she leaned in. "I want you, Reid," she murmured, her voice a seductive whisper that sent a thrill of excitement through him. "But I need to know that you can handle me."

Her hand slid down his chest, her fingers trailing over the thin fabric of his shirt to rest on his hip bone. He sucked in a sharp breath, his mind racing with the possibilities of what she meant.

Spencer had never been with a woman like Y/N. In fact, he had never been with a woman in the way he knew she was suggesting. A solitary blowjob in college had been the extent of his sexual experience. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or ridicule.

But what he saw was something else entirely. It was a hunger, a need that seemed to consume her. And in that moment, Spencer realized that she didn't just want him; she wanted all of him, even the parts he had always been so ashamed of. The idea was intoxicating, terrifying, and exhilarating all at once.

He had always been self-conscious about his size, his small cock a constant source of inadequacy in his mind. The few times he had been intimate with others, their reactions had ranged from polite surprise to outright rejection. He had resigned himself to a life of quiet solitude, his only release the occasional visit to a porn site where he could find comfort in the anonymity of his own hand.

But here was Y/N, the woman he had secretly desired for so long, telling him that she wanted him, despite his imperfections. He felt a rush of emotions, a heady mix of excitement and fear that made his knees feel like they might give out. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come.

Y/N reached up and slipped her hand behind his neck, pulling him down into a kiss that was as fiery as the passion in her eyes. Spencer's hands found her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he lost himself in the warmth of her mouth. Her tongue danced with his, a silent promise of the pleasure that awaited them both.

The fear from his high school days crept into his mind, memories of humiliation and rejection. But he pushed them aside, focusing on the here and now. This wasn't a prank, this was real. Y/N's body pressed against his, her curves moulding to his angular frame, was all the proof he needed. He wanted this, needed this, more than he had ever needed anything before.

Spencer's hands trembled as they found their way to the buttons of her blouse, his fingers fumbling in his haste. He felt her chuckle against his mouth, a sound that was both soothing and arousing. "Easy there, Einstein," she murmured, her hands covering his, guiding him. "Let me do the honours."

With a deftness that seemed to belie the urgency of the moment, Y/N began to undo the buttons on her wet shirt. One by one, they slipped through their holes, revealing the skin beneath. Her bra was damp, the fabric clinging to her breasts like a second skin. Spencer couldn't tear his eyes away, his mouth going dry at the sight of her.

When she had undone enough, she shrugged off the garment, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. He had seen them before, in his fantasies, but never so close, never so real. Her breasts were full and heavy, the nipples hard little points that begged for his touch. He reached out tentatively, his fingertips brushing the soft flesh. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and she leaned into his touch, her eyes never leaving his.

Y/N reached behind her, unclasping her bra with an ease that spoke of experience. The fabric fell away, and Spencer's breath caught in his throat. Her breasts were perfect, round and firm, tips peaked with desire. He cupped one in his hand, feeling the weight of it, the warmth of her skin against his palm. His thumb brushed over the nipple, and she moaned, arching her back.

The sound was like music to his ears, a symphony of need that surged through his body. He leaned down, capturing her nipple with his mouth, sucking gently. Y/N's hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The taste of her was like nothing he had ever experienced, a heady mix of salt and sweet that made him want more.

Her nails scraped lightly against his scalp, sending sparks of pleasure down his spine. Spencer moaned against her skin, his hands exploring the contours of her body. He felt the warmth of her flesh beneath his fingertips, the softness of her curves, the strength of her muscles. It was like he was discovering a treasure trove of sensations, each one more intoxicating than the last.

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt his touch, her body responding to him in ways she hadn't expected. She had always known that Spencer was a man of hidden depths, but this side of him was something she had never imagined. She reached down, her hand slipping between them to unbuckle his belt.

Spencer's eyes widened slightly as he felt her tugging at his clothing. He had always been the one in control, the one with the answers. But now, with her standing so close, her hands so confident on his body, he felt a thrill of submission that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Her fingers deftly untied his tie, the smooth fabric sliding through her grip as she pulled it away from his neck. She reached for the buttons of his shirt, her movements deliberate and precise, as if she were disarming a bomb. Each button released with a soft snick, revealing more of his pale, scrawny chest. He felt a flicker of self-consciousness, but it was quickly drowned out by the hunger in her eyes.

As she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, Spencer felt the cold air of the room hit his skin, sending goosebumps racing down his spine. Y/N's gaze travelled over his chest, lingering on the sharp points of his hip bones before dropping to the bulge in his pants. A smirk played at the corner of her mouth as she reached for the zipper.

"Let's see what you're working with, Reid," she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

Spencer's heart was racing as he felt the zipper of his pants slide down. He knew what she would find, and the fear of rejection was a heavy weight in his stomach. But there was also something else, something darker, something that sent a thrill of excitement through his veins. The thought of her seeing him, all of him, and still wanting him was intoxicating.

Her hand slipped inside, her warmth surrounding his cock. He gasped as she wrapped her fingers around him, feeling the softness of her skin against his own. He was hard, so hard it was almost painful, and she chuckled at his obvious arousal.

"So tiny," she murmured, her voice filled with mock disappointment. Spencer felt his face flush, his insecurities rising to the surface like a bubble of lava threatening to consume him. But then she squeezed gently, her thumb brushing over the sensitive head, and his body responded with a jolt of pleasure that washed away his doubt.

Y/N leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. "But size isn't everything, is it, Reid?" Her words were a whisper, a dark promise that sent a shiver down his spine. "Sometimes, it's the little things that make the biggest difference."

Her hand began to move, stroking him in a slow, deliberate rhythm that made his knees weak. Spencer's eyes fluttered shut, the pleasure almost too much to bear. He had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But with each stroke, he found himself getting harder, his body betraying his fears.

"Look at me," Y/N demanded, her voice firm. Spencer's eyes snapped open, meeting hers. The fire in her gaze burned away any last traces of doubt.

With a sense of determination that surprised even himself, Spencer stepped out of his pants, his small cock standing proud despite his nerves. Y/N's eyes never left his, a smirk playing on her lips as she sank to her knees before him.

The coldness of the floor against her skin was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from Spencer's body. She took him in her hand, her thumb tracing the length of his shaft. "You know," she said, her voice a purr, "a cock like this needs some special attention."

Spencer's eyes widened slightly at her words, his heart racing as he tried to interpret the meaning behind them. He had always feared that his size would be a disappointment, but the way she looked at him, the hunger in her gaze, made him feel anything but inadequate.

Y/N leaned in closer, her breath hot against his skin as she took his cock in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the tip, teasing him before taking him deeper. Spencer's eyes rolled back in his head, a moan escaping his lips as she began to suck with an enthusiasm that belied the size of her mouthful. Her hand cupped his balls, gently massaging them as she took him in deeper, her eyes never leaving his.

"So, Reid," she murmured, her voice muffled around his cock, "I've got to admit, I didn't expect you to be quite so… compact." She pulled back, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "But I've got a feeling this little guy is going to be a choking hazard of a different kind." Her words were like a knife, cutting through the last of his inhibitions. He watched, entranced, as she took him in again, her cheeks hollowing out as she worked her mouth over his shaft.

The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that made his toes curl. Despite the harshness of her words, Spencer felt his cock swell in her grasp. He knew he should be offended, but instead, he was turned on beyond belief. The way she talked about him, the way she degraded his size, it was like a drug, a thrill that he hadn't anticipated.

Her eyes never left his, watching his every reaction as she continued to suck him off. Each time she pulled away, she'd whisper something degrading, something that should have made him feel small and insignificant, but instead it made him feel aroused. She was playing a game, and he was all too eager to play along.

"Mm, you like that, don't you, Reid?" she said, her voice thick with satisfaction as she licked her lips. "You're such a slut for it, aren't you?"

Spencer could only moan in response, his eyes glazed over with lust. He had never been talked to like this before, never been made to feel so…small. But instead of shrinking away, he felt himself growing harder, his body craving more of her degradation.

Y/N noticed his lack of verbal response and pulled away, her eyes narrowing. "I said, do you like that?" she demanded, her grip on his cock tightening.

Spencer's breath was ragged, his eyes snapping back to hers. "Y-yes," he stuttered, his voice barely audible.

Y/N's smirk grew as she released his cock with a wet pop. She rose to her feet, her eyes never leaving his. "Good," she said, her voice still that sweet, sultry purr. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

With a grace that seemed almost predatory, she reached behind her and unzipped her skirt. The fabric whispered against her skin as it slid down her hips, pooling at her feet like a dark waterfall.

Spencer's eyes widened as he took in the sight of her, now only clad in a scrap of cotton that barely contained her. Y/N stepped out of the pool of fabric, standing before him in nothing but her drenched panties. The fabric clung to her, revealing the tantalizing outline of her sex.

Without a moment's hesitation, he dropped to his knees, his cock still standing proud despite the cold floor beneath him. "Please," he begged, his voice thick with need. "Let me taste you."

Y/N's smirk grew wider as she stepped closer, the damp fabric of her panties brushing against his face. She could feel his breath, hot and heavy, against her skin. "You want to make it up to me for your tiny cock, don't you?" she taunted, her voice a siren's song.

Spencer nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. He knew he was falling into a dangerous game, but he couldn't help himself. The desire to please her, to show her that he could be what she needed, was all-consuming.

"Why should I let you?" she asked, her voice a silky challenge.

Spencer's eyes searched hers, finding the desire that lay just beneath the surface of her playful banter. He knew that she was testing him, pushing his boundaries to see just how far he would go. And he was more than willing to oblige.

"Because I want to," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Because I'll do anything to make you feel good."

Y/N's eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and desire. "Anything?" she repeated, her hand sliding down to the waistband of her soaked panties.

Spencer's heart hammered in his chest as he nodded. "Anything," he confirmed, his voice thick with need.

With a dramatic flourish, Y/N slid her panties down her legs, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. She was bare before him, her sex glistening with arousal. Spencer's mouth watered at the sight, his cock pulsing with excitement.

Her pussy was a thing of beauty, a small strip of hair leading down to her swollen pussy lips. Spencer felt his heart race as he took in the view, his eyes drinking in every detail. The scent of her desire filled the air, a sweet musk that made his head spin.

"Prove it," she challenged, stepping closer so that his nose was almost touching her sex. Spencer didn't need any more encouragement. He leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste her. She was sweet and salty, a flavor that was uniquely her. He moaned, his hands sliding up her thighs to grip her hips as he buried his face between her legs.

Y/N's hands found their way into his gelled hair, her nails digging into his scalp as he began to lick her in earnest. He knew he had to make this good, to show her that size didn't matter. His tongue danced over her clit, tracing the sensitive flesh with a gentle pressure that had her hips bucking against his face.

The sound of her moans filled the room, drowning out the storm outside. Spencer felt a surge of power, his inhibitions slipping away as he tasted her, felt her tremble against his mouth. He had read about this, studied it in his endless quest for knowledge, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of it.

Her legs began to quiver, and she reached down to steady herself, her hand finding the back of his head. "Don't stop," she breathed, her voice a desperate plea that only spurred him on. Spencer's tongue slid inside her, exploring her wetness, tasting her deeply. He felt her thighs tighten around his head, her hips moving in time with his mouth.

Y/N's moans grew louder, her breath coming in pants as she thrust against his tongue. The sight of her, so powerful and in control, yet so vulnerable in her pleasure, was more erotic than any of the images he had encountered in his vast research. He lapped at her, his tongue swirling around her clit, feeling her body tense with each pass.

Spencer's hands reached around to steady himself, his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass. He felt the muscles clench beneath his touch, her hips moving in a silent demand for more. He eagerly obeyed, his tongue delving deeper, his hands squeezing and releasing in a rhythm that matched the pulse of his own desire.

As Y/N's moans grew more insistent, Spencer felt a thrill of triumph. He had done this, brought her to this point of pleasure with nothing but his mouth and his willingness to submit to her every whim. He licked and sucked, savoring the taste of her, the feel of her against his tongue.

"Oh, fuck, Reid," she gasped, her voice shaky. "You're so good at this." Her praise was like a balm to his soul, soothing the wounds of his past rejections. He felt his cock throb, the blood rushing to his head as he worked harder, his tongue flicking and teasing her swollen clit.

"You're… you're so… oh god," she panted, her nails digging into his scalp. He felt a rush of pleasure at her words, his own insecurities momentarily forgotten. He had never been praised like this, never been told that he was good at something so intimate, so raw.

Her hips bucked harder, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she neared the edge. Spencer's tongue moved faster, flicking and teasing, pushing her closer to the precipice. And then, with a cry she came, her juices flooding his mouth and painting his face with her essence.

Spencer sat back on his heels, watching as Y/N's legs wobbled. Her breath came in short pants, her eyes glazed with pleasure. He felt a smug satisfaction, his cock pulsing with the need for more. He reached for his glasses, wiping them clean with the hem of his discarded shirt before sliding them back onto his nose.

"Your turn," she murmured, her voice a seductive promise. She reached for him, her hand guiding him to his feet. The room was a mess, their clothes scattered like confetti on the floor, but all Spencer could focus on was the desire in her eyes.

He took her hand, leading her to his bedroom with a confidence he hadn't felt in years. The room was sparse, his bed the only real piece of furniture. It was neat, almost monastic in its simplicity. But the storm outside painted the walls with shadows, giving the room an atmosphere of barely contained passion.

"Lay back," she ordered, her voice low and commanding. Spencer complied, his heart racing as he felt the mattress give beneath him. He watched as she climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips with a grace that belied the fierce hunger in her eyes.

Y/N begins to grind her pussy against his cock, the tip nudging her clit with every movement. Spencer can feel the warmth of her, the wetness of her arousal coating his shaft. Her eyes never leave his, a silent challenge that fuels his own desire. Despite his small size, he knows that he can give her what she needs, that he can make her feel good.

"Let's see if your tiny cock can pleasure me," she says, her voice a purr that sends shivers down his spine. The words should sting, but instead, they only serve to excite him further. He feels a thrill of anticipation, his cock twitching in response to her challenge.

Y/N's wetness coats his tip as she lowers herself onto him, the slick heat of her pussy making him gasp. Slowly, oh so slowly, she takes him in, her eyes never leaving his. The feeling is indescribable, the pressure of her tightness surrounding him, the way she seems to grip him despite his size.

"Mm, so small," she whispers, a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she sits up, her pussy fully engulfing his cock. "But you're so eager, aren't you?" Spencer nods, unable to form words, his eyes never leaving hers. The way she teases him, her words like a whip that stings but also drives him wild with desire.

"I'll bet you've never been with a woman who can handle something so… diminutive," she says, her hips rocking back and forth, her pussy clenching around him. Her movements are deliberate, each roll of her hips a silent declaration of his inadequacy. But Spencer finds himself growing harder, the sting of her words only adding to the intensity of his arousal. He watches as her breasts bounce with every movement, the sight of her enjoying herself making his heart race.

"Do you like feeling so… insignificant?" she purrs, her hands sliding down to cup her own breasts, her thumbs flicking at the erect nipples. "Do you like knowing that I could take any of your cock-sure colleagues and make them feel like kings, while you're stuck with this?"

Spencer's eyes widen at her words, his cock pulsing in response. He's never been so turned on by his own humiliation. The feeling is strange, intoxicating, like a secret he never knew he wanted to keep. He nods, unable to speak, his throat tight with lust.

The plushness of Y/N's thighs and ass slapped down on his bony hips with a sound that echoed through the room, each impact sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. It was a symphony of desire, a rhythm that spoke of her dominance and his submission. He could feel the heat of her skin, the softness of her flesh against his own, the slickness of their mingled arousal.

"Is that all you've got, Reid?" she taunted, her voice a whip crack of challenge. "This is what you're going to give me?" Her words stung, but not in the way he expected. Instead, they fueled a burning need inside him, a need to prove himself, to show her that even with his small cock, he could make her scream with pleasure.

Spencer's grip tightened on the bedsheets, his eyes never leaving hers as she continued to ride him with a slow, deliberate rhythm. He knew he had to do more, had to push her over the edge. He reached up, his hands finding her breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples. Y/N gasped, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before snapping open again.

"Is that all you've got, Reid?" she sneered, her voice dripping with mock disappointment. "This is what you call fucking me?"

Spencer's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger. He knew she was playing with him, pushing his buttons, but he couldn't help the way her words affected him. He bucked his hips upwards, trying to drive himself deeper into her, to silence her with his passion. But she was right, his cock was small, and she was so tight around him, like a fist.

"I can do better," he murmured, his voice a mix of desperation and defiance. "I'll make you cum."

Her smirk grew wider as she leaned forward, her breasts brushing against his chest. "Prove it," she whispered, her breath hot in his ear.

Spencer's hands slid down to her hips, his grip firm as he guided her movements. He began to thrust upwards, meeting her every downward motion with a force that belied his scrawny frame. He watched as her eyes grew wide, her mouth parting in a silent gasp as he found a rhythm that hit just the right spot.

Her breath grew ragged, her tits bouncing with each thrust. He could see the beginnings of a flush spreading across her chest, her nipples hardening into tight buds. Her walls tightened around him, squeezing his cock in a way that was both maddening and exhilarating. He knew she was close, could feel the tension coiling in her body like a spring ready to snap.

With a feral growl, Spencer reached down to her clit, his fingers trembling with anticipation. He needed her to come before he did, to show her that even with his small cock, he could satisfy her. His thumb circled the sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure. Y/N's eyes shot open, meeting his with a look of surprise and desire.

Her hips began to move faster, her breath hitching in her throat as she felt the beginnings of her climax building. Spencer felt it, too, the way her walls fluttered around him, the way her muscles began to quiver. He knew he had her, knew he could give her what she wanted.

He'd trained himself for this moment, countless nights spent alone in his apartment, his hand around his small cock, willing himself to hold back, to last longer. He'd read about it, studied the techniques, the psychological tricks that could make a man with his size feel like a god in the bedroom. And now, as he felt Y/N's pussy clench around him, he knew it had paid off.

Spencer's thrusts grew more deliberate, his movements more precise. Each time she moaned, each time her walls clenched around him, he felt his resolve strengthen. He knew that for men like him, it wasn't about size, but about the art of pleasure. It was about knowing the body, about reading the subtle cues, the hidden language of desire.

Y/N's voice dropped to a sultry purr as she whispered, "That's it, baby. Show me what you can do with that little thing." Her words were a drug, a potent cocktail of degradation and praise that went straight to his head. He felt his cock twitch, his movements growing more urgent as he chased her orgasm.

Suddenly, she leaned forward, her hands on his chest as she began to ride him in earnest. Spencer watched, his eyes glued to the sight of her pussy swallowing his small cock, her clit grinding against his pelvis. The sight was enough to make him feel like he was going to explode. He reached up, his hands cupping her breasts as he squeezed and pinched her nipples in time with her movements.

Her eyes snapped to his, the challenge clear. "You like watching me take your tiny cock, don't you?" she gasped, her hips moving faster, her pussy tightening around him. Spencer could feel the beginnings of his own climax building, the pressure in his balls growing with every stroke. He nodded, unable to form words, his eyes never leaving hers.

Y/N's movements grew erratic, her breath coming in short, sharp pants. Spencer felt her tighten around him, her pussy clamping down like a vice. And then, with a strangled cry, she came, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. The sensation was like nothing he had ever felt before, his own cock pulsing with the power of her release.

Her eyes snapped shut, her head thrown back as she rode the waves of pleasure. Spencer watched her, his own arousal reaching a fever pitch. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, the sight of her coming on his cock pushing him to the edge.

Y/N's pussy was tight around him, pulsing with the aftershocks of her climax. He could feel the wetness of her release, the warmth of it against his skin. He was so close, his entire body coiled tight like a spring.

And then, with a final, desperate thrust, Spencer came. His eyes rolled back in his head, his back arching off the bed as ropes of cum shot from his cock, filling her completely. It was more than he had ever produced, a testament to the intensity of his arousal.

Y/N felt the warmth of his release, the sheer volume of it a surprise. Her pussy was flooded with his cum, the sensation of it dripping out of her making her gasp. She had never felt so filled, so used, and it was intoxicating. She stared down at him, her own climax still echoing through her body.

Spencer's eyes were glazed with pleasure, his chest heaving with the effort of his release. He watched her, his own arousal mixing with a hint of vulnerability that she found utterly endearing. "Did I… did I do okay?" he asked, his voice shaky.

Y/N's smirk softened into a smile as she leaned down to kiss him. "More than okay," she murmured, her voice a warm caress against his lips. "You're a quick study."

Spencer felt a wave of relief wash over him, his chest tightening with a feeling that was a mix of satisfaction and affection. He had done it, proven to her that size didn't define his worth as a lover. Her praise was a balm to his soul, soothing the insecurities that had plagued him for so long.

Y/N slid off of him, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She lay down beside him, her skin glistening with sweat and the remnants of their passion. The storm outside had reached a crescendo, the rain pounding against the windows.

Spencer looked down at his cock, now softening, and felt a moment of doubt. But before it could take root, she reached over and took his hand, interlocking their fingers. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice filled with genuine warmth.

Her praise was all he needed to banish his insecurities. He turned to her, pulling her into his arms. They lay there, their bodies tangled together, listening to the storm outside. The room was filled with the scent of sex and the quiet sounds of their mingled breaths.

Spencer felt a sudden need to take care of her, to clean her up after their passionate encounter. He pulled away gently and whispered, "I'll be right back." He slid out of bed, his legs unsteady from the intensity of their lovemaking.

The bathroom was a short walk away, but it felt like a mile as he stumbled through the darkened hallway, his mind racing with the reality of what had just happened. He flicked on the light and grabbed a soft washcloth, running it under the warm tap. The water was like a lifeline, grounding him in the moment.

Returning to the bedroom, he found Y/N exactly as he'd left her, sprawled across his bed, the sheets a rumpled mess around her. The sight of her made his heart skip a beat, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride.

"Let me," he murmured, his voice a soft request as he approached her with the washcloth. He was eager to show her that he cared, that he was attentive to her needs even in the aftermath of their passion.

Y/N watched him through hooded eyes, her breathing still ragged from her orgasm. She nodded, a hint of curiosity in her gaze as she spread her legs wider, giving him full access. Spencer's eyes fell to her sex, still wet and swollen from their encounter. He felt a thrill run through him, a mix of awe and desire as he knelt beside the bed.

He took the washcloth and gently began to clean her up, his eyes never leaving the mesmerizing sight of his cum slowly leaking out of her pussy. Each dribble was a testament to his power, his ability to satisfy her despite his size. It was a visual representation of his triumph, a silent declaration that he was more than enough.

But as he worked, Spencer couldn't help but feel a thrill of something darker, something that called to the depths of his kink. The need to claim her, to mark her as his own, grew stronger with every stroke of the cloth. And so, with a decision made in a split second, he set the washcloth aside. His fingers, still slick from the warm water, slid over her folds, collecting his own cum before pushing it back inside her.

The sight of his fingers disappearing into her, the way her pussy took him in, was more erotic than he could have ever imagined. He watched as she bit her bottom lip, her eyes fluttering closed as he played with his own seed. The feeling of her tightness, the way she gripped his fingers, was intoxicating.

Spencer's mind raced with all the things he wanted to do to her, all the ways he could make her feel good. His fingers moved in a slow, deliberate rhythm, pushing in and out, the warmth of her body enveloping him. He could feel her growing wetter, her walls quivering around him. It was as if she was begging for more, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Y/N's moans grew louder, her hips rising to meet his hand. She wrapped her arms around her head, her legs spread wide in invitation. "Yes," she whispered, the word a soft hiss in the stillness of the room. "Just like that."

Her encouragement spurred Spencer on, his movements growing bolder. He watched as her body responded to his touch, the way her breasts bounced with each of her breaths, the way her pussy grew slicker and more swollen. He slid a second finger inside her, feeling the tightness of her channel clench around him.

"Yes," she moaned, her voice a siren's call that urged him to go deeper, to push her further. He curled his fingers, searching for that spot that would make her scream. When he found it, she arched off the bed, her nails digging into the sheets. "Oh god, yes, right there."

Her words were music to his ears, a symphony of desire that made his cock twitch with renewed interest. He added a third finger, stretching her tight pussy around him, feeling her clench and pulse.

With his other hand, Spencer reached up to her clit, his thumb brushing against the sensitive nub. She gasped, her hips bucking in response. He felt a thrill of power, knowing that he could reduce her to this state of need with just his touch.

He began to rub her clit in gentle circles, his touch feather-light, teasing her as he felt her body tense with anticipation. Y/N's breath hitched, her eyes snapping open to meet his.

"Fuck, Reid," she groaned, her voice a mix of pleasure and surprise. "You're so… good at this."

Her words were a sweet agony, a delicious torment that made Spencer's cock twitch back to life. He leaned over her, his eyes dark with desire as he whispered, "You like that?"

Y/N nodded, her eyes glazed with lust. "Keep going," she breathed, her voice a sultry command. Spencer didn't need any more encouragement. He began to grind his cock against the bed, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through his body. He watched her face, the way her cheeks flushed with desire.

Without a second thought, he leaned in and took her clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking against the sensitive nub. Her body jerked at the sudden contact, a gasp escaping her lips. He could feel the power of his own pleasure building, but he was determined to make her come again. He knew it was a bold move, but something about the way she looked at him, the way she'd praised his tiny cock, made him feel invincible.

Spencer's fingers moved in a blur, pumping in and out of her pussy as he targeted her g-spot with the precision of a maestro. He watched as her face contorted with pleasure, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. He could feel her getting closer, her walls tightening around his digits, her hips moving in sync with his hand.

Y/N's eyes rolled back in her head, a keening sound escaping her throat. Her body was a canvas of passion, her muscles tensing and releasing in time with his movements. He knew he had found the perfect rhythm, the sweet spot that would send her over the edge.

Her orgasm hit her hard, like a bolt of lightning tearing through her body. Her pussy pulsed around his fingers, her thighs quivering as she bucked against him. Spencer felt the power of her release, the tremors that rippled through her core as she came apart in his hands.

Y/N took a moment to catch her breath, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. Spencer was still kneeling beside the bed, his cock standing at attention as he watched her. He was grinding it against the bed, the sheets bunching beneath him. She couldn't help but feel a thrill of dominance, watching him seek his own release.

With a wicked smile, she reached a hand out to his chin, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "You look like you could use some help with that little problem of yours," she purred, her voice thick with satisfaction. Spencer's eyes snapped to hers, his breath hitching. The way she said it, like his size was something to be handled, only made him want her more.

Y/N slid off the bed, her body a study in grace as she moved. She grabbed his hand and tugged him to his feet, her strength surprising him. "Lie down," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. Spencer's cock bobbed with every step as he obeyed, his nerves a mix of excitement and anticipation.

He lay back, the coolness of the sheets soothing to the heat of his body. Y/N took a moment to appreciate the view, his glasses slightly askew on his face, his chest rising and falling with his ragged breaths. She felt a sense of power, a thrill that coursed through her veins.

With a grace that belied the intensity of her desire, she climbed up his body, her legs straddling his thighs. The warmth of her skin against his was electric, setting his nerves alight. His cock was already hard again, standing tall despite its size, begging for her attention.

As she reached his pelvis, she hovered there, her breath hot against his length. Spencer's chest heaved, his heart racing in anticipation. He watched as she leaned in, her eyes locked on his, and took the tip of his cock into her mouth. He felt the softness of her lips, the wetness of her tongue as she began to suck, the sensation sending shockwaves through his body.

Y/N's nails lightly scraped down his torso, leaving goosebumps in their wake as she approached his hip bones. Spencer's eyes widened as she wrapped her fingers around them, her grip firm but not painful. It was a strange sensation, the feeling of being both cherished and dominated at the same time. Her nails dug in, pinning him to the bed as if to remind him that she was in control, that she could do with him as she pleased.

Her tongue traced the length of his shaft, the wetness of her mouth leaving a trail of heat that made him shiver. She took him in deeper, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked. Spencer felt the pressure build, the sensation of her tongue swirling around the head of his cock making his toes curl. He was so close, his body poised on the edge of release.

Y/N's eyes never left his as she licked and sucked with a hunger that was almost feral. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of satisfaction and amusement at his response. Spencer could feel the tension coiling in his balls, the pressure threatening to overwhelm him. He moaned, his hips bucking upwards, trying to get more of her mouth on him.

Her grip on his hips tightened, holding him in place as she began to play with his balls. She rolled them gently in her palm, her nails scraping lightly against the sensitive skin. The sensation was exquisite, a delicate balance of pleasure and pain that had him writhing beneath her. She could feel the heat building in him, the way his body responded to her touch. It was like holding a live wire in her hand, the power of his desire pulsing through her.

Y/N took her time, exploring every inch of his small package. Her tongue flicked out, licking and teasing his balls with a gentle touch that had Spencer's eyes rolling back in his head. She knew just how to manipulate him, how to coax every drop of pleasure from his body. His hips bucked, his cock straining towards her mouth as she worked her magic. The sounds of his moans filled the room, a symphony of desire that only spurred her on.

And then, she did it. She took all of him in her mouth, closing around his cock as she hummed a low, throaty sound. The vibrations hit him like a bolt of lightning, his body tensing as he felt the pressure build. Spencer had never felt anything so intense, so all-consuming. It was as if she had tapped into a part of him that he didn't even know existed.

With a final, desperate thrust, he came hard, filling her mouth with his cum. The feeling was indescribable, a mix of pleasure and relief that had him crying out her name. He watched as she swallowed, her eyes never leaving his, the hunger in them unmistakable. It was a moment of complete surrender, his body wrung out and vulnerable beneath her.

As the last tremors of his orgasm faded, Spencer's body went boneless, his muscles releasing their tension. He lay there, panting, his cock still pulsing as Y/N licked her lips, a smug smile playing on her face. The sight of her, so in control, so powerful, was almost too much.

Y/N crawled up his body, her movements sinuous and cat-like. She took him into her arms, holding him close as if he were something precious. Spencer felt a warmth spread through him, a feeling of belonging that was new and exhilarating. He wrapped his arms around her, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine as she settled against him.

For a moment, he allowed himself to just be, to revel in the aftermath of their encounter. But the question lingered in the back of his mind: what did this mean for them? Was it a one-time thing, a fleeting moment of passion? Or was there something more, a connection that could grow and evolve over time?

Y/N could see his mind racing, the cogs turning behind those intelligent eyes. She propped herself up on her elbow, her body still flushed with the afterglow of her climax. "What's on your mind, Spencer?" she asked, her voice soft and soothing.

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I just… I don't know what to think. This was… unexpected." He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "But I don't want it to be a mistake."

Y/N leaned in, her breath hot against his neck. "It's not a mistake, Spencer," she assured him, her voice a gentle whisper. "This is just the beginning."

Spencer felt a weight lift from his chest at her words. He tightened his hold on her, his heart racing with hope. "But what happens now?" he asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.

Y/N kissed him softly, her lips a gentle promise. "Now, we explore," she murmured, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "We find out just how good we can be together."

Spencer felt a thrill of excitement at her words. Being able to call her his, to claim her as his own, was a heady thought. It was something he had never dared to hope for, not with his insecurities. But now, as he held her in his arms, the possibility felt tantalizingly close.

[utilitycaster]

look, I know polls are silly and fun and so I want you to understand writing this rant is silly and fun for me but EMON? Emon is the Critical Role Entry for Most Place of All Time? I must call bullshit. And so:

Friends, fellow critters, and people who have me blocked but hate read my blog each morning over breakfast: Emon is not even the Most Place on the Material Plane. It is not even the Most Place in Tal'Dorei. Hell, it's not even the Most Place on the fucking Bladeshimmer Shoreline, which includes a destroyed city now overtaken by bandits, and a cave system that hosts both a rift to the Far Realm and a different rock than residuum that can make a different magical drug than suude. Emon is if you took the aggressively mid vibes of Washington, DC and transplanted them to the inconvenient location and city of refuge for flaky people who avoid gluten for non-medical reasons of Los Angeles. The second Percival Frederickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III invents the motorcar that sumbitch is going to have traffic bad enough to summon Tharizdun. Also there's a literal pit of fire that's been burning for 30 years that both hasn't been adequately addressed but also doesn't really seem that interesting. Like oh a bunch of dragons destroyed your city? Big deal. Draconia got so fucked up it doesn't exist anymore, and at least Westruun has some fucking charm. At least Pike and Grog actually lived there, whereas Vox Machina got a house in Emon and proceeded to spend their time literally anywhere else.

Here is a brief list of places on the planet of Exandria in the Material Plane - not even across Critical Role's main campaigns/EXU, which includes such non-Exandrian places as "living city of people who mind-melded and escaped to the Astral Sea during a century-plus-long war of the gods"; "Ligament Manor"; "Ryn's groovy pied-a-feu, man I wonder what made the scorch marks on that furniture, anyway", and "THE MOON THAT IS ACTUALLY AN PRISON FOR A THING THAT EATS GODS AND IS POSSIBLY HATCHING" - that are more of a place than Emon:

Jrusar: 5 spires no waiting, sweet cable car system, city almost entirely destabilized by goo creatures as part of an overly complicated plot to blow up the aforementioned moon

Bassuras: (literally "garbagetown") Run by Mad Max gangs and everyone is cool with it; regular sandstorms; one of those gangs apparently sits atop a hive mind and NO ONE has examined this (except for them)?)

Whitestone: has a tree planted by one god over a buried temple to another god that was corrupted in the name of a third, shittier god; overrun by zombies but it's fine now; streetlights and two bears that are allowed to do whatever the fuck they want.

Yios: The canal system of Venice meets the colleges per capita of Boston meets the orcs from your fantasies, also there's some kind of kitchen-based organized crime ring so intricate it could be its own campaign (so, also like Boston).

Vasselheim: literally no one understands what the fuck its government system is. Old as balls. Temples everywhere! Temples full of trees. Temples full of blood! Temples full of an old guy who will kick your ass. A sphinx that regulates the monster hunter mini-game. Presumably the giant titan full of the ancient cannibal dwarf city is like, still there, as a new fixture, since I don't see how they're moving that.

The arctic: where teleportation doesn't work, there's a river of lava in the middle of the snow, ancient ruins full of snow globes full of actual people, and the Chaos Bisexual Emerald - and that's just a smattering of what Eiselcross has to offer.

Since this is about space and not time we can toss Aeor and Avalir too, since they once were places, and while we're at it whatever the fuck is going on with the Shattered Teeth and its permanent fog cloud and fish dream cult and capitalist shipwrecked merchants.

And, of course, any arbitrary square millimeter of Wildemount, frankly, has more Mostness than the entirety of Emon could muster under absolutely ideal conditions. But for the sake of one place per region, let's hand it to Rosohna (city of eternal night for practical purposes, built over the Evil God Headquarters); Uthodurn (underground! Giant goats! Elves and dwarves, living together, mass hysteria!); Hupperdook (steampunk gnome party city); Nicodranas (Fjord, Jester, Veth, Marion, and Yussa literally all live there at once; plumbing used to be courtesy of an imprisoned marid...but watch out); and Blightshore (Blightshore).

In conclusion: Emon is boring, nominating it was a mistake, there are literally sealed gods in other parts of the world and also way better taverns, good night, and what the fuck.

[jimsbeetroot]

Omg hiii!! I am in more need of Sid stories so might as well request one could you do a Sid x reader where it’s before a show and he wants some help with the face paint and the reader she helps him and it’s just a cute soft fluffy moment between them

yes yes yes! love this! I’ve wanted to write more Sid but I can’t seem to think of any scenarios! Please write if you have some ideas so my light bulb can start working again hehe. a/n; my favourite Sid mask is honestly his gray chapter mask. it’s so awesome, almost cyborg like, and with the metal plate it’s just become my favourite!

“paint me like one of your french girls?”

-

The hum of anticipation buzzed through the backstage area, where the familiar stench of rotting masks, sweat and metal filled the air.

It was the usual chaos before a Slipknot show, with crew members rushing about and the distant sound of drums being tested on stage. You’d poked your head out minutes earlier to get a look at the filled venue. The unbelievable crowd was a sea of smiles, some old, some young. But they all had one thing in common; they’d come to see fucking Slipknot. You could still hear the audience humming from the backstage room and it never ceased to amaze you, how far the band had gotten.

But amidst the frenzy, you were with Sid, tucked away in a quiet corner, away from the madness.

Safe to say, Sid wasn’t feeling it today.

He was sat crouching down, fiddling with some cables from his turntable. He was a genius at music, but he was your own personal and private handyman. The man could fix just about anything. Cars, tractors, motorcycles; he’d even managed to fix your damaged laptop once. There wasn’t a thing the man couldn’t do. But, there he sat, cursing under his breath in frustration. Somebody had messed with his turntable setup and he was forced to take matters into his own hands, seeing as the tech was sick. He knew how to, that wasn’t the problem. But he was fed up and annoyed that he had to deal with technical issues that could’ve easily been avoided.

Sid was wearing his black suit. The one with the red accents and patchwork.

You watched him intensely. His mask was on the floor next to him. You couldn’t see his face because his back was facing you, but you could feel the frustration reeking from him.

“Fifteen minutes, people!” A staff member yelled. “Fuck,” Sid hissed. You bit your cheek and took a step forward.

“Anything I can do?” You asked carefully. He could tell you to piss off, and you wouldn’t take it personally. But he didn’t. Sid turned around and forced a smile on his lips.

“Can you actually find my paint? I think it’s in my black bag,” Sid said. You nodded and swiftly, you made your way to his black travel bag, which he brought everywhere. You fished around and found the black paint. On your way back to Sid, a victorious ‘yes!’ was to be heard.

When returning, Sid was standing up, mask in hand and smiling at you, the frustrated look, long gone.

“Figured it out?” You asked him. He nodded and opened his arms. You met his embrace and wrapped your arms around him, letting his fold over you.

“Yeah. I’m punching Rick for leaving me to deal with that, the next time I see him,” Sid said, referring to his tech. “Wasn’t he like, really sick?” You asked, chuckling. Sid shrugged, “Probably too much Taco Bell.”

You grinned at his joke and shook your head. “Don’t be rude. The man just likes his burritos.”

Sid pulled you in for a kiss, his taller frame bending down to reach your lips.

“Paint me like one of your French girls?” Sid asked. Silence fell over the two of you before you both erupted in laughter. “No, seriously. In the last two shows, the paint has looked like shit. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. It’s just black paint,” Sid said and shook his head.

“Sit down,” you said and put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him softly towards a chair. He sat down on the chair and you plumped down right on top of him as if his lap was your own, personal seat. It was.

“I think you should do three layers,” you said and opened the container of black face paint. You dipped your index finger into the creamy mixture and wiped it over Sid’s chin. “My patience is non-existent,” he responded.

“I know,” you scoffed with wide eyes, having experienced his impatience well over a hundred times before. He grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

"Hold still," you murmured, your voice soft, almost teasing.

He chuckled, the sound low and comforting. "I'm trying, but it's hard when you're this close, ya know?"

You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but you didn’t let it distract you. Moving to his eyes, you gently brushed the paint around them, filling in the gaps his mask left exposed. His eyes never left yours, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze, but it didn’t make you nervous. It was like he was grounding you, making you feel steady even when your heart was racing.

"All done," you finally said and leant back to admire your work.

Sid grinned, his teeth gleaming under the new layer of paint. "Thanks, babe," he said, his voice a mix of gratitude and something softer, something just for you.

He leant forward and captured your lips in a quick, tender kiss, his hand gently cupping your cheek. It was a small gesture, but it was full of the unspoken connection you shared, a moment of calm before the storm that is a Slipknot show.

When he pulled back, his mask was back in his hand, ready to be put on. "You wanna do the honours?" he asked, holding it out to you.

You took the mask from him, carefully pulling it over his head. As you secured it in place, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride, knowing you're the one who helped him transform into the wild, enigmatic Sid Wilson the crowd was about to see.

Sid was everything you wanted. He was crazy when he wanted to be, but he was also beautifully kind, calm and sympathetic. You wanted to hide him away to be yours forever and always.

"Go kill it out there," you whispered, your hand lingering on his chest for just a moment.

Sid gave you a nod, the intensity in his eyes now fully masked by the terrifying persona he wore on stage. But before he headed out, he leaned in close, his voice low and full of affection. "I'll be thinking of you, Y/N."

And with that, he was off, disappearing into the chaos, ready to give the performance his fans were waiting to witness. But even as the crowd roared and the music started to pulse through the walls, all you could think about was the warmth of that kiss and the softness behind the mask, a softness only you got to see.

[sci-fi-lexcon]

—> Lexi being off center 😭

In other words, just trying to stay positive but she often mutters out the most random stuff

Scenario 1

Liane walks in complaining about whatever it is she saw on the media lately as Lexi and the others are trying to have a gentle breakfast. Particularly Lexi, who couldn’t sleep a single wink last night due to her allergies flaring up horribly the previous night, in response she was uncomfortable the entire time.

She loves the blonde to death, but sometimes she wanted to throw a frying pan at her head.

Rochelle noticed her hand twitching and how Lexi’s grip on her glass of ice cold water tighten, like she might crush it.

“Are you okay?” The redhead asked, rubbing her shoulder.

She sighed and grunts with a soft glare, “Peachy..”

——

Scenario 2

Sitting in the living room watching a movie. Especially Tangled.

Rick walks in, “Do you think if I throw a car around would that count as a training exercise?”

Liane raise an eyebrow, “The f-!”

“Ooo! Be careful.” Luna says smiling.

Lexi looks up from her laptop and scoffs, “It would count as you ending up behind bars. And, I ain’t paying for your bail.”

——

Scenario 3

“You did what?!” Lexi shouted pushing her bangs out of her face and glared.

“It wasn’t my fault!”

“That’s it! I’mma rip that ponytail out!”

The person runs for their life.

“I didn’t know I swear!” She yells back, “I wasn’t thinking straight!”

Lexi runs after them and screamed, “Use that big head of your!”

——

Scenario 4

“Do you speak Spanish?” Rick asked casually

Lexi raise an eyebrow, “Yes..?”

“Great. Translate this for me.”

He hands her a note from Rei saying ‘eat shit’ in Spanish. Due to the blonde accidentally destroying the lab again.

She smiled sheepishly, “You don’t want to know..”

——

Scenario 5

“I know there is overwhelmed and underwhelmed. But can’t you just be whelmed?” Lexi asked clumsily.

Luna thinks for a moment and shrug, “Uh, I don’t know..oh maybe you can!”

Rick rolled his eyes.

——

Scenario 6

“Lexi the cable’s out.” Bruce says softly.

Lexi trying to get the remote control to work and grumbled, “Ugh! What’s wrong with this thing?!”

“Did you hear what I said? The cable’s out.”

“Maybe it needs new batteries..?”

She hits the back of the remote and press the button on the tv to turn it on—but fails! It’s not working.

Bruce pinching the bridge of his nose and snorted at her reaction. He repeats, “Lexi, listen to me carefully. The. Cable. Is. Out.”

It take a moment before her mind clicked onto what he said as her head spinning around to face him.

Her eyes widen as she shouted, “THE CABLE IS OUT?!”

———

Let me know what you think 💭

- @gcthvile @meiramel l l @aidanxsophxoxo @blueboirick @wizzzardofoz z z @finlayholmes @ethan-lensherr @elzabeth-stark k @marvelsfavoriteuncle @sci-fi-lexcon @ask-starrk @therealdaydreamstark @luna-d-marsh @rickb-chaos @the-x-ladiesofnyc @trulysummersprivate @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog: Wakfu Season 1 (episodes 10-12)

note: I'm releasing these 3 episodes' liveblog separately from the rest because I have some things to say this time dfhgjsdfg.

Finally, finally, finally: we have arrived at my favorite dystopia in the history of fiction. This is what I've been waiting for...

I find it funny how passionate he was about Bonta this whole season — only to now admit he hasn't been here for ten years.

Bontaboo.

Important world building notes: in Wakfu era, Bonta has cable cars and trams!

I need to lock Joris and Eva in a singular room and force them to talk about Ogrest's Chaos/Leorictus Sheran-Sharm/Everything That Bonta Has Done In Waven.

Whether they agree on anything or not, the bloodshed would be wonderful.

That's... quite a high-tech thing to see.

Amalia confirmed to have come to Bonta to see gobbowl games!

Using this information, I can imagine anything.

With so many people present, I like to imagine that Joris is in the crowd. Watching. Hoping really hard that Amalia being here will not become a political incident and also his problem <3

And yes, I have reasons to believe that Joris is still within Bonta at this time. But it'll be easier to explain during the episode where I think he finally leaves for Sadida Kingdom.

Version of gobbowl that Joris likes and approves of, folks. Though Brakmarian gobbowl isn't better.

Then again, Joris is into this sort of stuff, canonically...

The "buying of cheating time" and "the audience decides some random stuff to make it all more difficult" are probably something that's very appealing to him in sport. Both as a player and as an audience member.

Maybe this is why there are cups with Kerubim's face on them later in the series. Maybe Bontarians do this to anyone who gets famous for something.

Anyway I think Joris probably has merch of like, every team that has won ever, and has had multiple mental escapades trying to decide if it is normal to own merch that depics people he's kinda-sorta-friends-but-maybe-not-and-not-very-close-anyway-so-maybe-acquaintances(?) with.

(He's a fanboy. But only a little bit.)

[sailor-sun-18]

HONKAI: STAR RAIL

Genre: Fluff/Humor

Character(s): SERVAL - GEPARD

Note: inspired by one of Serval's daily chats.

ANOTHER NORMAL DAY IN BELOBOG

"So... Serval..."

Your eyes trailed over the red and blue vehicle, its polished crimson and deep royal paint glistened under the morning rays.

Your friend hummed as she fixed the last cables. Electric blue irises widened when the radio turned on, a Belobog's traditional song coming from the speakers.

"Are you sure this will work?"

Serval moved her hand as if dismissing your worries. Her painted coral lips curled into a small smile.

"Don't worry." she said, twirling the keys between her fingers for a bit.

You eyed the sharp tips of the chainsaw installed on the front. Lingering doubts clouded your mind but you pushed them down, opting to show a small smile to your close friend.

The blonde entered the driver's door and locked eyes with you.

"You comin'?"

You eyed the machine one last time before settling on the passenger seat.

Without wasting another second, Serval turned the key. The engine started rattling as the car came to life. The older blonde smiled, happy cheers left her mouth when the vehicle started moving. But, just as she stepped on the accelerator, a worrying sharp sound came from the hood.

Then you saw it.

The chainsaw shot out and flew over Belobog in all its glory until it came in contact with Qlipoth Fort, shattering one of its windows.

Holy-

And your life flashed before your eyes.

Peering through the matt glass, you scrutinized the streets of Belobog. You gulped as another pair of Silvermane Guards filled your line of vision before joining the others on their all-out manhunt. You let out a breath of relief when they were headed to Eversummer Florist.

Turning around, you called your friend who was busy removing the nefarious chainsaw. With just one pull, she took the last row of teeth, their sharp tips shined menacingly under the soft glow of Neverwinter Workshop. She gave you a silly smile and thumbs up to which you reciprocated.

Meanwhile, her phone rang, displaying a message from the trailblazer -and may the Aeons bless them- saying they would keep your secret.

But then, a soft knock came from the door.

You neared the window closest to it -"Who is it?" asked the mechanic from the counter- trying to peek in the most natural way possible. And when your irises caught tuffs of soft blonde locks, you felt your soul leaving your body.

"Serval, it's Gepard."

You sweated nervously as you heard the scrambling of mechanical parts followed by a hushed 'what-'.

"It's Gepard." you repeated.

Serval, who was still holding the disassembled chainsaw, hurried to find an empty box.

"Huh... Stall for time?"

Another knock.

You rushed on your feet and opened the door, greeting the Silvermane Captain who looked surprised for a moment before a rosy tint painted his cheeks and his lips curled into a shy smile.

You tried to return with a smile of your own but it was so stretched and fake it was almost comical. And somehow, the Aeons above seemed to have finally heard you, as your sweet boyfriend -unaware of the previous chaos- greeted you shyly before asking for his sister.

You faked a cough and robotically turned around just in time to see your blonde friend emerging from the counter with an equally comically fake, enthusiastic smile.

"Hey, lil' bro.- she said, nearing the two of you and swinging an arm over your shoulders -How's work?"

The tall blond squared his shoulders.

"Someone has shattered one of Qlipoth Fort's windows, we've been searching for the culprit. Have you seen something or someone?"

Serval cleared her throath, "No, we've been busy, very busy... uh... you know... repairing machines here and there." she said following with a small awkward laugh as you furiously nodded.

Gepard stayed silent before nodding.

"I understand, please, let me know if you discover something."

"Sure sure- said Belobog's mechanic as she grabbed the handle -but we are very busy right now, so, see you later!"

As Serval pushed the door, you waved to the poor unsuspecting male.

But, just as the twin doors were almost closed, a couple of stubborn morning rays peeked through the hinges and landed straight to a box vibing near the counter.

And then he saw it.

The tip of the cursed automaton chainsaw shining under the light.

Ahah... ah.

Oh.

[biteofcherry]

If it’s not too late may I enter the babe lottery with Jake Jensen? I am EXHAUSTED and broke af and could use being whisked away (hopefully).

✨✨✨

With the way everything was mostly going wrong that day (from your car completely breaking down, your bank account flashing empty and the pouring rain that caught your on your way back home), entering a cozy bookshop that was filled with warmth and a scent of chocolate felt like an intro to a movie.

A romantic one, considering that your soaked form was greeted by a concerned, gorgeous looking man.

The tag name on his graphic t-shirt introduced him as Jake and his worried babbling showed him as an endearing, awkward cutie.

He herded you toward a small reading nook, offering to get you a cup of tea. There were no spare clothes to offer, but he brought you a small, clean towel.

At least the universe threw you something good in the whole chaos that was your life recently.

What better story to tell your friends and family (and maybe future children) than how you met your husband by stumbling all drenched into his bookstore?

But it wasn't Jake who brought you your tea a few minutes later. His slightly nervous smile that charged into a full sunshine beam when you responded to him kindly was replaced with a mocking smirk.

The man towering over you, who just slipped your way steaming tea in a cup that looked like most expensive, delicate china, looked maybe Jake's age, but the two couldn't be more different.

Jake wore colorful, graphic tee, round glasses and a slightly ridiculous goatee. This man had the softest looking cable knit sweater on, perfectly shaven face and hair that appeared to feel as soft as that sweater.

"Jake's wiping the puddles you left all over my store," the man's complaint was tainted with an amused undertone, leaving you uncertain if he was offending you, or joking.

"I'd say you should clean the mess yourself, but something tells me-" he paused and gave you a slow once over- "you're a walking mess in all aspects."

[violetmuses]

Don't Let Me Down - A. Aretas 🖤🔥

Title: Don't Let Me Down - A. Aretas 🖤

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Chaos introduces someone new.

Author's Note: Here's another quick drabble request. Enjoy and thanks so much for reading! @vergilnelosparda 😁

=====

2016

“Look out!” Ambushed voices warned.

Bullets zip past the evening skyline as you run out, immediately picking up one stray firearm that dropped in this darkened alleyway.

Hiding near brick walls, you walked between shadows in an effort to dodge more crossfire, yet another barrel clicked right behind your head.

On instinct, you turned around and pointed the weapon toward this stranger.

“Who the fuck are you?” You grit, bringing up defenses as this street fight continues.

“Doesn't matter yet. Get out of the way!” His accented English reached your attention, but this stranger pulled you away from harm just before one grenade exploded.

Flames nearly engulfed this large-scale space as force jumped you backwards. Even the stranger loses his own weapon in return.

“Run, c'mon!” You call from the opposite direction and he turns away from fire, hoping to score one vacant and surviving car.

“Jump the cable, go!” His voice rasped through anger here and you kept scrambling as gangsters moved closer.

“Stop, yelling! I know what to do, all right?” You've tricked so many vehicles before, but this shit isn't snapping fast enough. ”Damn!”

“Duck.” The stranger tells you.

“What?!” You scream right back and this man leaned out the passenger seat window, shooting three goons dead.

Flames burned even closer now and you leave with this man, successfully jumping another car to escape this hell.

Speeding past the muffled crossfire, you finally learned his name.

Armando.

[cissa-calls]

Countdown to Coven of Chaos: Day 524

Y/N: “Hey Wands? The car broke down, I think the battery might have died”

Wanda: “Oh no!! Hold tight, I’ll be there soon…where’s Agatha? Is she okay?”

Y/N: “Umm, I think so?”

Agatha sprinting with jumper cables towards a lightning storm: “HARNESS THE POWER OF NATURE TO START THE ENGINE!!! ALL MINE MINE MINE”

Y/N: “Please hurry”

[tomtenadia]

Detours to You - Ch 12

Good weekend everyone!!! Ready for an another chapter?

MASTERLIST

Two days had passed from the fire and Rowan’s house had been transformed quickly in a chaos of toys. Although Maya was good at tidying up at night before bed, during the day his house was mayhem. And he was happy. His two girls were still recovering from the shock. Aelin had taken a couple of days off work after Elide and Lysandra had forced her to. Maya had been quieter than usual and that worried him. Both of them were struggling to sleep and in the past two nights he had found himself sandwiched between them. Maya would climb at his front and just cling to him, while Aelin played big spoon and rested against his back. He knew they were both struggling. He would have loved to stay at home with them but there was so much to do and he was helping the police with the investigation on the building fire. The previous day he had gone and collected the last few belonging boxed in the flat and finally closed that chapter of their lives. Rowan hated not being with them but he knew that Aelin was going back to work and would take Maya with her. They had called the school and explained the situation and Rowan had gone to the school to get Maya’s homework and the last lessons she had missed. Being in primary school it was still basic stuff but he felt that it was important and he and Aelin had been helping her at night.

That morning he was standing outside the tall block of flats and waiting for Captain Falliq and the chief of OFI. They were meant to go inside the building and try to find more proof of what caused the fire. They had the mechanics but now they had to discover the why and Nersys was positive it was arson.

Connall Moonbeam was the first one who met him. He was Fenrys brother. They had all done the academy together. Fenrys was still on active duty at station 3 but Connall had to retire from active duty after an accident during a fire that left him with bad lung problems and a problematic leg so he found a permanent position in the office for fire investigations and slowly made his way up the ladder.

“Morning Con,”

“You really are back, I thought Fen was taking the piss.”

Rowan laughed “Yes, I am.”

“And Chief nonetheless. Good, we did need a change of leadership.”

The both remained in silence while they waited for Nersyn to arrive.

“Do you really think it’s arson?”

“Nes thinks so.”

Connall sighed “You know how hard it is to prove and from what you told me this building was badly managed anyway. I need to make sure that the actual cause is human intervention and intentionally caused.”

“I know, I did try and explain to her but she believes Hamel was trying to get rid of this residential building to transform it into a business one,” he added with restrained fury “Apparently flats are not profitable. No matter that the monster charges an extortions for rent.”

Not long after, the captain emerged from her car and Rowan smiled at her wearing safety shoes and a hard hat. He had explained her the risks of entering a building after afire.

“Good morning guys, Sorry I am late but I was checking an anonymous tip we got about this fire. The person believes this was intentional. Apparently someone else had eyes on this building to make it commercial.”

Rowan was furious. Where were people meant to live if every rich bastard decided that buildings in the city centre were only good for business?

The three of them entered the building and slowly made their way to where overhaul had identified the origin point. 

Rowan walked to the main switchboard and with his torch illuminated the panel “It originated here,” he showed them the scorch marks of the origin point. Slowly he removed the panel and showed them the mess of the cables.

“That is not safe.” Added Connall, staring at the mess of badly tangled cables, they all looked ruined by years of bad maintenance but there was nothing pointing to arson.

Rowan would definitely jail the bastard just for negligence.

“Rowan, go back there, please?”

He pointed the light back to where Connall had indicated and they spotted a cable with a clean cut “This has been snapped with tools. And see the protective plastic around? It’s peeled back to expose the cables but it’s far too perfect and neat. This was deliberate.”

“Do you think they keep maintenance logs? Any trace of who was the last person to come down here? Only technicians have access keys to this panel.”

Nesryn took some notes “I am sure I will be able to find that for you.”

Rowan walked around the ruins of the place until his feet ended up in a puddle “Water, the guy had mentioned water too.” With his torch he followed the trail and noticed that the wall had all the marks of an internal water leak. With his axe he hit a specific point and water burst out with force, beneath it the electrical wiring was fried. Connall helped him to open the hole a bit more and with their torches they inspected the inside “If I remember the blueprint correctly, this is just below the flat that was the epicentre.”

“Shall we go upstairs?” Prompted Rowan, while already moving. The other two followed suite. As per protocol the flat had been boarded up but Connall and Rowan were two people who had the authority to go in so they slowly took down the boards and stepped in. The flat was a mess of burnt items. He could still see the signs of a family living there. A mother and her eighteen years old daughter. Their dreams, their hopes. All destroyed because of one man’s greed.

According to the report from his men, the fire in that room had been brutal. The kitchen had gone up in seconds and for the two women there had been no escaping. Rowan and Connall moved the appliances and found traces of sparks too and then water. They inspected the building for a good hour while Nesryn followed them in silence and took notes of their theories. The cut cable was a definite proof of a deliberate act, but the rest seemed like gross misconduct. Now it was her turn to piece all the details together and build up a case strong enough to jail Hamel forever.

When they finally exited the building the cop took a deep breath of fresh air, while Connall removed his white face mask to prevent him breathing dust particles that would cause him issues.

“This was very interesting and I have collected a lot of images and notes to help with my investigation. I have the copies of your reports as well so hopefully I will have something more solid soon.”

They thanked the cop and both men remained alone “This was sick.” Added Connall.

Rowan’s stare was on the top floor where Aelin and Maya lived. A barrage of what ifs crossed his mind. They had been quite far from the fire but still… If… If… If… Now that flat lay empty and his two women were safe at his house, he had to concentrate on that, for the sake of his sanity.

“I will send you and Nes any updates as soon as we analyse the samples I took.”

“Keep me posted, please.”

The two men said goodbye and Rowan jumped back in his pickup and drove to the bookstore.

*

Working helped. Aelin felt much better after a whole morning surrounded once again by books and her two friends. Maya had been in a better mood too and spent the morning in the children section or helping her mum shelve books.

She was busy helping a customer when she spotted the white shirt and dark jacket of the chief of the TFD entering the premises and Maya’s scream of joy at seeing her father.

“Dad!!” She ran to him and Rowan lifted her up effortlessly.

“Hi munchkin, how are you?”

She lifted Elf “we have been helping mum with all the books.”

With Maya still in his arms, he walked to the counter to greet Elide and Lysandra.

“We kept an eye on them, being busy helps a lot.”

“Dad, I fixed the kids section.”

“You did?” He kissed her “Show me.”

Father and daughter walked towards the back of the shop and Aelin joined her two friends.

“He is so adorable with her.”

Aelin stared at Rowan listening to what Maya was saying and agreed. Rowan was amazing with her.

“Lorcan asked me if I want one too.”

Both women squealed “What did you tell him?”

“Yes, of course as long as they are not a grumpy little thing like their father.”

“Now we have to convince my cousin Aedion to pop the question and make Lys a married woman.”

Lys rolled her eyes “If he doesn’t get a move on I am going to propose.”

Elide clapped her hands happily “Look at us responsible women.”

“Rowan needs to pop the question too.”

Aelin stopped “Rowan and I… it’s complicated.”

“In what universe? You already have a daughter and now live together too. You are basically married without the paperwork.”

“And didn’t you kiss the other night?” Added Elide.

“It was just to comfort me. It was sweet but it had nothing sexual about it.”

“Sure, but it moved something, eh?”

It did. Old feelings had started to come back quickly and being in the same house with him was not helping. She was torn between the version of five years before who was madly in love with him and the new version who was still struggling with his return and was scared of trying again.

“Maya is the most important thing just now. My needs can wait.”

“Until you two are alone in that big house of his and he can finally have your way with you and make you scream so hard you scare the squirrels.”

Aelin burst out laughing “Lys, you definitely read too many romance books.”

“No such thing.” She added quickly.

“We are just saying that the sexual tension between you is thick and we are expecting fireworks when you finally decide to stop being stubborn.”

Rowan came back with Maya half holding three books in her hands “dada bought me some books.”

“You are a bad influence,” joked Aelin, while taking the books from her daughter.

“As long as she is asking me to buy her books, I am happy to indulge her.”

“Also, I come here with an invitation,” he started “The annual hockey game between TFD and PD is on the 22nd. I know you are closed like all the shops for a couple of days and you are invited.” He turned to Lys “Aedion is welcome too if his job at the academy allows him to.” Aedion had been in the army for a very long time and when he retired he was offered a job as trainer for the recruits.

“It’s a good thing that you are back. We have been loosing for the past few years and Westfall has been a dick about it and brags to no end.”

Aelin glared at Elide for the D word and the young woman froze.

“Mama what is a dick?”

The adults froze “Maya, auntie Elide meant a stick.”

The girl seemed to accept the answer and went back browsing her books in silence.

“I will let you know all the details and give the tickets to Aelin.”

Rowan then kneeled beside Maya “I have to go back to work, but you keep company to mum and I will see you tonight.”

Maya wound her arms around his neck “Thank you for the books,” a kiss on his cheek.

Rowan kissed her back then stood and then pulled Aelin to him depositing a soft kiss on the crown of her head “I should be home by six.”

In response she leaned against his chest and nodded “be careful.”

“Always.” He pulled back, saluted the women and disappeared.

“Sure, no feelings.” Added Elide.

“He is totally disgusted by you.” Continued Lysandra.

Elide lifted Maya on the high chair “What do you think, little one? Your mum and dad like each other?”

The girl nodded energetically “Yes. Mum is happy.”

Aelin stared at the door where Rowan had disappeared and thought about her daughter words. Yes, since he came back she had felt happier. She had found herself craving his presence.

Maybe she was too afraid for nothing.

taglist

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127

[badathumanemotions]

Beyond Expectations (V2)

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader MDNI Category: Smut CW: Virgin Spencer, Oral Sex, Fingering, Degradation, Praise, Loss of Virginity, Riding, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Cumplay, Dominate Reader. WC: 8,518 After driving Spencer home he invites Y/N in out of the rain (Not Proof Read) Master List

Spencer Reid was a man of routine, his life as meticulously organized as the stacks of paperwork lining his desk at the BAU. His spectacles perched precariously on the bridge of his nose as he peered into the abyss of criminal psychology. The dimly lit room of the Behavioral Analysis Unit hummed with the murmur of his colleagues' voices, each one a cog in the intricate machine of justice. His mind raced, piecing together the puzzle of the latest crime scene with the finesse of a master chess player.

Yet amidst the chaos of their work, Spencer's thoughts often drifted to his colleague, Y/N L/N. Her sharp wit and unyielding resolve had captured his attention from the moment he had met her. He'd noticed the way her eyes sparkled when she cracked a case, the gentle sway of her hips as she walked, and the softness of her lips when she spoke. But it was her confidence that truly fascinated him, a contrast to his own insecurities about his physical appearance.

The rain had started to fall in a gentle patter against the office window, casting a gloomy veil over the city. Spencer, lost in thought, barely registered the droplets of water tracing patterns down the glass. Y/N, noticing his preoccupation, approached him with a knowing smile. "Looks like you're going to need a ride home tonight, Reid," she said, her voice like a siren's call, pulling him from his introspection.

Spencer looked up at her, his heart skipping a beat. He had always felt a palpable tension between them, a silent dance of desire that he was too shy to acknowledge. But the way she offered, the smoulder in her eyes, suggested something more than just a friendly gesture. He nodded, trying to keep his voice steady. "Thank you, Y/N. I'd appreciate that."

They made their way to the elevator, the silence thick with unspoken intentions. The doors slid open, revealing the empty metal box that would take them down to the parking garage. She stepped in first, her heels clicking against the floor as she turned to face him. Spencer followed, his eyes drawn to the curve of her hips as she leaned against the railing. The doors closed with a soft thud, sealing them in their own little world.

Y/N reached over and pressed the button for the ground floor, her hand lingering on the panel a moment longer than necessary. She stepped closer, her body heat radiating towards him.Spencer's breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest like a wild animal trying to escape. The elevator descended, the lights flickering as it passed each floor. The cables groaned with the weight of their anticipation, each second stretching into an eternity.

When the elevator reached the parking garage, the doors slid open to reveal the dimly lit space. The scent of rain and asphalt filled the air as they stepped out into the cool embrace of the night. Y/N led the way to her car, the sharp click of her heels echoing through the cavernous garage.

They slid into the confined space of her car, the leather seats cool against their skin. She turned the ignition, the engine purring to life, and reversed out of the spot. As they drove through the garage, the headlights cast eerie shadows on the concrete walls, illuminating their faces in brief moments of stark clarity. Spencer's heart hammered in his chest as he stole glances at Y/N, her eyes focused on the road ahead, her lips curled into a knowing smile.

He tried to start a casual conversation, his voice wavering slightly. "So, how was your day?" But his usual eloquence had abandoned him, leaving only a stumbling mess of words. He felt his cheeks flush, the heat of his embarrassment creeping up his neck.

Y/N glanced at him, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "My day was fine, Reid," she replied, her tone a bit more playful than usual. "How about yours?"

Spencer's mind raced, trying to come up with something, anything, to say that wouldn't make him sound like a babbling fool. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of nerves. "It was… productive," he managed, his voice a whisper compared to the roar of his thoughts.

Y/N's smile grew wider, the corner of her mouth quirking up. "It's Friday night, Reid. We've got a rare free weekend ahead of us. You should let your hair down," she said, her eyes flicking to the side of his head where his short, slick hair grazed his ears.

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Spencer swallowed, his throat dry. "I-I don't know if I know how to do that," he confessed, his gaze drifting to her profile, illuminated by the dashboard lights.

The rain grew heavier as they approached his apartment, the wipers swiping back and forth in a rhythmic dance to keep the windshield clear. Y/N slowed down, her knuckles white on the steering wheel as she navigated the treacherous streets. Water gushed in rivers along the gutters, the night's darkness closing in around them. The city lights were a blurred mosaic through the downpour, reflecting off the wet pavement.

Spencer couldn't help but worry about her driving in such conditions. He knew she was capable, but the intensity of the storm was unnerving. "Are you sure you're okay to drive in this?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Y/N shot him a sideways glance, her eyes filled with a mischievous glint. "I've driven in worse, Reid," she said, her voice a sultry purr that seemed to resonate through the car. "But if you're worried, I could always wait the storm out at your place"

The suggestion was loaded, a silent invitation that made Spencer's stomach flip-flop with excitement. His cheeks burned with a blush that was impossible to hide in the dim car interior. He knew what she was offering, and the thought of it made his heart race. His mind raced with scenarios, each more tantalizing than the last. He wanted that so badly, the ache in his chest was almost painful.

As they pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building, the rain had turned into a torrential downpour. The droplets hit the windshield with such ferocity that it was hard to see anything beyond the smeared lights of the other vehicles. Spencer's eyes remained glued to Y/N, his breath shallow, his thoughts racing faster than the water droplets that danced across the glass.

Her proposition hung in the air, thick and charged like the electricity that crackled outside. He tried to respond with the same cool confidence she exuded, but his voice betrayed him, coming out as a strained whisper. "I-I guess that could work." The words barely left his mouth before he felt a rush of heat to his cheeks, hoping she couldn't hear the desperation in his voice.

They dashed through the rain, their laughter mingling with the sound of the downpour. Spencer fumbled with his keys, his hands shaking with anticipation. Finally, the lock clicked open, and they tumbled into the warm embrace of his apartment. Y/N shrugged off her wet coat, revealing the curve of her breasts under her tight blouse, and Spencer couldn't help but stare. He felt a sudden jolt of excitement, mixed with a hint of fear. He had always been so sure that she was out of his league.

The apartment was a testament to his solitary life, filled with towering bookshelves that lined the walls from floor to ceiling. The scent of old paper and leather bound volumes filled the air, creating a cozy cocoon that was as much a part of Spencer as his glasses. Y/N took it all in with a nod of approval, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she took a step closer to him.

"Nice place," she murmured, her voice low and sultry. She moved through the room, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor as she made her way to the sofa, her hips swaying in a way that was both mesmerizing and infuriating. Spencer felt his throat tighten as he watched her, his eyes drawn to the way the fabric of her blouse clung to her damp skin.

"Thanks," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. He closed the door behind them, the sound of the storm outside now muffled by the thick barrier of his apartment. The room felt smaller with her in it, the air charged with a tension that made it difficult to breathe.

Y/N turned to face him, her eyes gleaming with something that made his stomach flip. "You know, Reid," she began, her voice a sweet caress that seemed to stroke his very soul. "You've always been so… proper." She took a step closer, her heels clicking with every movement. "But I have a feeling that underneath all that," she paused, her eyes raking over his lanky frame, "there's a wild side just dying to come out and play."

Spencer swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He had never seen this side of Y/N, this seductive, playful creature that seemed to have emerged from the shadows of the storm. Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and he found himself nodding in silent agreement.

"But you know," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper, "I've noticed something about you, Reid." She took another step closer, the scent of her perfume, something floral and exotic, wrapping around him like a warm embrace. "You're always so… inhibited. So concerned with what others think."

Spencer's heart hammered in his chest as she reached out, her fingertips grazing the fabric of his shirt. He could feel the heat of her body, so close to his own, and he knew that this was his moment. He had to be brave, had to take the plunge into the unknown.

Y/N stepped closer, her breath warm against his skin as she leaned in. "I want you, Reid," she murmured, her voice a seductive whisper that sent a thrill of excitement through him. "But I need to know that you can handle me."

Her hand slid down his chest, her fingers trailing over the thin fabric of his shirt to rest on his hip bone. He sucked in a sharp breath, his mind racing with the possibilities of what she meant.

Spencer had never been with a woman like Y/N. In fact, he had never been with a woman in the way he knew she was suggesting. A solitary blowjob in college had been the extent of his sexual experience. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or ridicule.

But what he saw was something else entirely. It was a hunger, a need that seemed to consume her. And in that moment, Spencer realized that she didn't just want him; she wanted all of him, even the parts he had always been so ashamed of. The idea was intoxicating, terrifying, and exhilarating all at once.

He had always been self-conscious about his lack of sexual experience, his virginity a constant source of inadequacy in his mind. The few times he had been intimate with others, it was awkward and not very good. He had resigned himself to a life of quiet solitude, his only release the occasional visit to a porn site where he could find comfort in the anonymity of his own hand.

But here was Y/N, the woman he had secretly desired for so long, telling him that she wanted him, despite his imperfections. He felt a rush of emotions, a heady mix of excitement and fear that made his knees feel like they might give out. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come.

Y/N reached up and slipped her hand behind his neck, pulling him down into a kiss that was as fiery as the passion in her eyes. Spencer's hands found her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he lost himself in the warmth of her mouth. Her tongue danced with his, a silent promise of the pleasure that awaited them both.

The fear from his high school days crept into his mind, memories of humiliation and rejection. But he pushed them aside, focusing on the here and now. This wasn't a prank, this was real. Y/N's body pressed against his, her curves moulding to his angular frame, was all the proof he needed. He wanted this, needed this, more than he had ever needed anything before.

Spencer's hands trembled as they found their way to the buttons of her blouse, his fingers fumbling in his haste. He felt her chuckle against his mouth, a sound that was both soothing and arousing. "Easy there, Einstein," she murmured, her hands covering his, guiding him. "Let me do the honours."

With a deftness that seemed to belie the urgency of the moment, Y/N began to undo the buttons on her wet shirt. One by one, they slipped through their holes, revealing the skin beneath. Her bra was damp, the fabric clinging to her breasts like a second skin. Spencer couldn't tear his eyes away, his mouth going dry at the sight of her.

When she had undone enough, she shrugged off the garment, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. He had seen them before, in his fantasies, but never so close, never so real. Her breasts were full and heavy, the nipples hard little points that begged for his touch. He reached out tentatively, his fingertips brushing the soft flesh. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and she leaned into his touch, her eyes never leaving his.

Y/N reached behind her, unclasping her bra with an ease that spoke of experience. The fabric fell away, and Spencer's breath caught in his throat. Her breasts were perfect, round and firm, tips peaked with desire. He cupped one in his hand, feeling the weight of it, the warmth of her skin against his palm. His thumb brushed over the nipple, and she moaned, arching her back.

The sound was like music to his ears, a symphony of need that surged through his body. He leaned down, capturing her nipple with his mouth, sucking gently. Y/N's hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The taste of her was like nothing he had ever experienced, a heady mix of salt and sweet that made him want more.

Her nails scraped lightly against his scalp, sending sparks of pleasure down his spine. Spencer moaned against her skin, his hands exploring the contours of her body. He felt the warmth of her flesh beneath his fingertips, the softness of her curves, the strength of her muscles. It was like he was discovering a treasure trove of sensations, each one more intoxicating than the last.

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt his touch, her body responding to him in ways she hadn't expected. She had always known that Spencer was a man of hidden depths, but this side of him was something she had never imagined.

As she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, Spencer felt the cold air of the room hit his skin, sending goosebumps racing down his spine. Y/N's gaze travelled over his chest, lingering on the sharp points of his hip bones before dropping to the bulge in his pants. A smirk played at the corner of her mouth as she reached for the zipper.

"Let's see what you're working with, Reid," she murmured, her voice thick with desire

Her hand slipped inside, her warmth surrounding his cock. He gasped as she wrapped her fingers around him, feeling the softness of her skin against his own. He was hard, so hard it was almost painful, and she chuckled at his obvious arousal.

Her hand began to move, stroking him in a slow, deliberate rhythm that made his knees weak. Spencer's eyes fluttered shut, the pleasure almost too much to bear. He had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But with each stroke, he found himself getting harder, his body betraying his fears.

"Look at me," Y/N demanded, her voice firm. Spencer's eyes snapped open, meeting hers. The fire in her gaze burned away any last traces of doubt.

With a sense of determination that surprised even himself, Spencer stepped out of his pants, his cock standing proud despite his nerves. Y/N's eyes never left his, a smirk playing on her lips as she sank to her knees before him.

The coldness of the floor against her skin was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from Spencer's body. She took him in her hand, her thumb tracing the length of his shaft. "You know," she said, her voice a purr, "a cock this pretty needs some special attention."

Y/N leaned in closer, her breath hot against his skin as she took his cock in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the tip, teasing him before taking him deeper. Spencer's eyes rolled back in his head, a moan escaping his lips as she began to suck with an enthusiasm that belied the size of her mouthful. Her hand cupped his balls, gently massaging them as she took him in deeper, her eyes never leaving his.

He could feel the tension building, the pressure rising with every bob of her head. His hands found their way into her hair, his fingers tightening as he struggled to keep from thrusting into her mouth. He knew he was inexperienced, something he'd always been self-conscious about, but the way she was looking at him, the way she was worshipping him with her mouth, it was like nothing else mattered.

Y/N pulled away for a moment, her lips glistening in the soft light of the room. "Tell me, Spencer," she purred, her voice a seductive purr that sent shivers down his spine. "Has anyone ever put their mouth on you like this before?"

Spencer's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he thought back to his college days, the fumbling attempts with his first partner. "Once," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "But it wasn't… it wasn't like this."

Y/N's eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and triumph. "Well, then," she murmured, her voice a soft purr that sent shivers down his spine. "I'm going to have to show you how it's really done."

With that, she took him in her mouth again, her movements more deliberate, more forceful. Spencer's eyes widened as she began to degrade him, whispering sweet nothings that were anything but sweet. "You like that, don't you, you little virgin?" she teased, her tongue flicking against his sensitive skin. "You've never had a woman treat you like this before, have you?"

Her words stung, but the sensation was oddly arousing. He had always been the object of ridicule for his innocence, but here she was, turning his inexperience into something desirable. He felt a strange thrill at the thought of being her plaything, her little secret to corrupt.

Her eyes never left his, watching his every reaction as she continued to suck him off. Each time she pulled away, she'd whisper something degrading, something that should have made him feel small and insignificant, but instead it made him feel aroused. She was playing a game, and he was all too eager to play along.

"Mm, you like that, don't you, Reid?" she said, her voice thick with satisfaction as she licked her lips. "You're such a slut for it, aren't you?"

Spencer could only moan in response, his eyes glazed over with lust. He had never been talked to like this before, never been made to feel so…small. But instead of shrinking away, he felt himself growing harder, his body craving more of her degradation.

Y/N noticed his lack of verbal response and pulled away, her eyes narrowing. "I said, do you like that?" she demanded, her grip on his cock tightening.

Spencer's breath was ragged, his eyes snapping back to hers. "Y-yes," he stuttered, his voice barely audible.

Y/N's smirk grew as she released his cock with a wet pop. She rose to her feet, her eyes never leaving his. "Good," she said, her voice still that sweet, sultry purr. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

Spencer's eyes widened as he took in the sight of her, now only clad in a scrap of cotton that barely contained her. Y/N stepped out of the pool of fabric, standing before him in nothing but her drenched panties. The fabric clung to her, revealing the tantalizing outline of her sex.

Without a moment's hesitation, he dropped to his knees, his cock still standing proud despite the cold floor beneath him. "Please," he begged, his voice thick with need. "Let me taste you."

Y/N's smirk grew wider as she stepped closer, the damp fabric of her panties brushing against his face. She could feel his breath, hot and heavy, against her skin. "You want this, don't you?" she taunted, her voice a sweet symphony of seduction. "You want to taste me, to prove that you're not the inexperienced little boy everyone thinks you are."

Spencer nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. He knew he was falling into a dangerous game, but he couldn't help himself. The desire to please her, to show her that he could be what she needed, was all-consuming.

"Why should I let you?" she asked, her voice a silky challenge.

Spencer's eyes searched hers, finding the desire that lay just beneath the surface of her playful banter. He knew that she was testing him, pushing his boundaries to see just how far he would go. And he was more than willing to oblige.

"Because I want to," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Because I'll do anything to make you feel good."

Y/N's eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and desire. "Anything?" she repeated, her hand sliding down to the waistband of her soaked panties.

Spencer's heart hammered in his chest as he nodded. "Anything," he confirmed, his voice thick with need.

With a dramatic flourish, Y/N slid her panties down her legs, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. She was bare before him, her sex glistening with arousal. Spencer's mouth watered at the sight, his cock pulsing with excitement.

Her pussy was a thing of beauty, a small strip of hair leading down to her swollen pussy lips. Spencer felt his heart race as he took in the view, his eyes drinking in every detail. The scent of her desire filled the air, a sweet musk that made his head spin.

"Prove it," she challenged, stepping closer so that his nose was almost touching her sex. Spencer didn't need any more encouragement. He leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste her. She was sweet and salty, a flavour that was uniquely her. He moaned, his hands sliding up her thighs to grip her hips as he buried his face between her legs.

Y/N's hands found their way into his gelled hair, her nails digging into his scalp as he began to lick her in earnest. He knew he had to make this good. His tongue danced over her clit, tracing the sensitive flesh with a gentle pressure that had her hips bucking against his face.

The sound of her moans filled the room, drowning out the storm outside. Spencer felt a surge of power, his inhibitions slipping away as he tasted her, felt her tremble against his mouth. He had read about this, studied it in his endless quest for knowledge, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of it.

Her legs began to quiver, and she reached down to steady herself, her hand finding the back of his head. "Don't stop," she breathed, her voice a desperate plea that only spurred him on. Spencer's tongue slid inside her, exploring her wetness, tasting her deeply. He felt her thighs tighten around his head, her hips moving in time with his mouth.

Y/N's moans grew louder, her breath coming in pants as she thrust against his tongue. The sight of her, so powerful and in control, yet so vulnerable in her pleasure, was more erotic than any of the images he had encountered in his vast research. He lapped at her, his tongue swirling around her clit, feeling her body tense with each pass.

Spencer's hands reached around to steady himself, his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass. He felt the muscles clench beneath his touch, her hips moving in a silent demand for more. He eagerly obeyed, his tongue delving deeper, his hands squeezing and releasing in a rhythm that matched the pulse of his own desire.

As Y/N's moans grew more insistent, Spencer felt a thrill of triumph. He had done this, brought her to this point of pleasure with nothing but his mouth and his willingness to submit to her every whim. He licked and sucked, savouring the taste of her, the feel of her against his tongue.

"Oh, fuck, Reid," she gasped, her voice shaky. "You're so good at this." Her praise was like a balm to his soul, soothing the wounds of his past rejections. He felt his cock throb, the blood rushing to his head as he worked harder, his tongue flicking and teasing her swollen clit.

"You're… you're so… oh god," she panted, her nails digging into his scalp. He felt a rush of pleasure at her words, his own insecurities momentarily forgotten. He had never been praised like this, never been told that he was good at something so intimate, so raw.

Her hips bucked harder, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she neared the edge. Spencer's tongue moved faster, flicking and teasing, pushing her closer to the precipice. And then, with a cry she came, her juices flooding his mouth and painting his face with her essence.

Spencer sat back on his heels, watching as Y/N's legs wobbled. Her breath came in short pants, her eyes glazed with pleasure. He felt a smug satisfaction, his cock pulsing with the need for more. He reached for his glasses, wiping them clean with the hem of his discarded shirt before sliding them back onto his nose.

"Your turn," she murmured, her voice a seductive promise. She reached for him, her hand guiding him to his feet. The room was a mess, their clothes scattered like confetti on the floor, but all Spencer could focus on was the desire in her eyes.

He took her hand, leading her to his bedroom with a confidence he hadn't felt in years. The room was sparse, his bed the only real piece of furniture. It was neat, almost monastic in its simplicity. But the storm outside painted the walls with shadows, giving the room an atmosphere of barely contained passion.

"Lay back," she ordered, her voice low and commanding. Spencer complied, his heart racing as he felt the mattress give beneath him. He watched as she climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips with a grace that belied the fierce hunger in her eyes.

Y/N begins to grind her pussy against his cock, the tip nudging her clit with every movement. Spencer can feel the warmth of her, the wetness of her arousal coating his shaft. It's a sensation that's both terrifying and exhilarating, and he can't help but let out a low moan.

"Mm, you like that, don't you?" she purrs, her hips rocking against him. "But let's see if you know how to use that thing," she says, her voice a seductive challenge. The words should sting, but instead, they only serve to excite him further. He feels a thrill of anticipation, his cock twitching in response to her challenge.

Y/N's wetness coats his tip as she lowers herself onto him, the slick heat of her pussy making him gasp. Slowly, oh so slowly, she takes him in, her eyes never leaving his. The feeling is indescribable, the pressure of her tightness surrounding him, the way she seems to grip him.

"Don't cum too quickly, Spencer," she whispers, her voice a teasing taunt. "I've heard that's what virgins do, isn't it? Just spurt their little seed like they're not even worth the effort."

Spencer moans, his eyes squeezed shut, the words a potent mix of degradation and arousal. He's never been talked to like this before, never been made to feel so…used. But with each syllable that drips from her lips, his cock only grows harder, his need for her more intense. He can feel her wetness, her heat, surrounding him, her walls tightening around him as she takes him deeper.

The plushness of Y/N's thighs and ass slapped down on his bony hips with a sound that echoed through the room, each impact sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. It was a symphony of desire, a rhythm that spoke of her dominance and his submission. He could feel the heat of her skin, the softness of her flesh against his own, the slickness of their mingled arousal.

"Look at me, Spencer," she ordered, her voice a velvet caress that sent shivers down his spine. "Look at me while I fuck you like the inexperienced little virgin you are." He knew he should be offended, but instead, he felt a strange thrill at her words. It was as if she was peeling away the layers of his inexperience, revealing the raw, needy man beneath.

"Is that all you've got, Reid?" she taunted, her voice a whip crack of challenge. "This is what you're going to give me?" Her words stung, but not in the way he expected. Instead, they fuelled a burning need inside him, a need to prove himself, to show her that he could make her scream with pleasure.

Spencer's grip tightened on the bedsheets, his eyes never leaving hers as she continued to ride him with a slow, deliberate rhythm. He knew he had to do more, had to push her over the edge. He reached up, his hands finding her breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples. Y/N gasped, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before snapping open again.

"Is that all you've got, Reid?" she sneered, her voice dripping with mock disappointment. "This is what you call fucking me?"

Spencer's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger. He knew she was playing with him, pushing his buttons, but he couldn't help the way her words affected him. He bucked his hips upwards, trying to drive himself deeper into her, to silence her with his passion.

"I can do better," he murmured, his voice a mix of desperation and defiance. "I'll make you cum."

Her smirk grew wider as she leaned forward, her breasts brushing against his chest. "Prove it," she whispered, her breath hot in his ear.

Spencer's hands slid down to her hips, his grip firm as he guided her movements. He began to thrust upwards, meeting her every downward motion with a force that belied his scrawny frame. He watched as her eyes grew wide, her mouth parting in a silent gasp as he found a rhythm that hit just the right spot.

Her breath grew ragged, her tits bouncing with each thrust. He could see the beginnings of a flush spreading across her chest, her nipples hardening into tight buds. Her walls tightened around him, squeezing his cock in a way that was both maddening and exhilarating. He knew she was close, could feel the tension coiling in her body like a spring ready to snap.

With a feral growl, Spencer reached down to her clit, his fingers trembling with anticipation. He needed her to come before he did. His thumb circled the sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure. Y/N's eyes shot open, meeting his with a look of surprise and desire.

Her hips began to move faster, her breath hitching in her throat as she felt the beginnings of her climax building. Spencer felt it, too, the way her walls fluttered around him, the way her muscles began to quiver. He knew he had her, knew he could give her what she wanted.

He'd trained himself for this moment, countless nights spent alone in his apartment, his hand around his cock, willing himself to hold back, to last longer. He'd read about it, studied the techniques, the psychological tricks that could make a man feel like a god in the bedroom. And now, as he felt Y/N's pussy clench around him, he knew it had paid off.

Spencer's thrusts grew more deliberate, his movements more precise. Each time she moaned, each time her walls clenched around him, he felt his resolve strengthen. Spencer knew intellectually it was about knowing the body, about reading the subtle cues, the hidden language of desire.

Suddenly, she leaned forward, her hands on his chest as she began to ride him in earnest. Spencer watched, his eyes glued to the sight of her pussy swallowing his cock, her clit grinding against his pelvis. The sight was enough to make him feel like he was going to explode. He reached up, his hands cupping her breasts as he squeezed and pinched her nipples in time with her movements.

Her eyes snapped to his, the challenge clear. "You like watching me take your cock, don't you?" she gasped, her hips moving faster, her pussy tightening around him. Spencer could feel the beginnings of his own climax building, the pressure in his balls growing with every stroke. He nodded, unable to form words, his eyes never leaving hers.

Y/N's movements grew erratic, her breath coming in short, sharp pants. Spencer felt her tighten around him, her pussy clamping down like a vice. And then, with a strangled cry, she came, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. The sensation was like nothing he had ever felt before, his own cock pulsing with the power of her release.

Her eyes snapped shut, her head thrown back as she rode the waves of pleasure. Spencer watched her, his own arousal reaching a fever pitch. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, the sight of her coming on his cock pushing him to the edge.

Y/N's pussy was tight around him, pulsing with the aftershocks of her climax. He could feel the wetness of her release, the warmth of it against his skin. He was so close, his entire body coiled tight like a spring.

And then, with a final, desperate thrust, Spencer came. His eyes rolled back in his head, his back arching off the bed as ropes of cum shot from his cock, filling her completely. It was more than he had ever produced, a testament to the intensity of his arousal.

Y/N felt the warmth of his release, the sheer volume of it a surprise. Her pussy was flooded with his cum, the sensation of it dripping out of her making her gasp. She had never felt so filled, so used, and it was intoxicating. She stared down at him, her own climax still echoing through her body.

Spencer's eyes were glazed with pleasure, his chest heaving with the effort of his release. He watched her, his own arousal mixing with a hint of vulnerability that she found utterly endearing. "Did I… did I do okay?" he asked, his voice shaky.

Y/N's smirk softened into a smile as she leaned down to kiss him. "More than okay," she murmured, her voice a warm caress against his lips. "You're a quick study."

Spencer felt a wave of relief wash over him, his chest tightening with a feeling that was a mix of satisfaction and affection. He had done it, proven to her his worth as a lover. Her praise was a balm to his soul, soothing the insecurities that had plagued him for so long.

Y/N slid off of him, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She lay down beside him, her skin glistening with sweat and the remnants of their passion. The storm outside had reached a crescendo, the rain pounding against the windows.

Spencer looked down at his cock, now softening, and felt a moment of doubt. But before it could take root, she reached over and took his hand, interlocking their fingers. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice filled with genuine warmth.

Her praise was all he needed to banish his insecurities. He turned to her, pulling her into his arms. They lay there, their bodies tangled together, listening to the storm outside. The room was filled with the scent of sex and the quiet sounds of their mingled breaths.

Spencer felt a sudden need to take care of her, to clean her up after their passionate encounter. He pulled away gently and whispered, "I'll be right back." He slid out of bed, his legs unsteady from the intensity of their lovemaking.

The bathroom was a short walk away, but it felt like a mile as he stumbled through the darkened hallway, his mind racing with the reality of what had just happened. He flicked on the light and grabbed a soft washcloth, running it under the warm tap. The water was like a lifeline, grounding him in the moment.

Returning to the bedroom, he found Y/N exactly as he'd left her, sprawled across his bed, the sheets a rumpled mess around her. The sight of her made his heart skip a beat, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride.

"Let me," he murmured, his voice a soft request as he approached her with the washcloth. He was eager to show her that he cared, that he was attentive to her needs even in the aftermath of their passion.

Y/N watched him through hooded eyes, her breathing still ragged from her orgasm. She nodded, a hint of curiosity in her gaze as she spread her legs wider, giving him full access. Spencer's eyes fell to her sex, still wet and swollen from their encounter. He felt a thrill run through him, a mix of awe and desire as he knelt beside the bed.

He took the washcloth and gently began to clean her up, his eyes never leaving the mesmerizing sight of his cum slowly leaking out of her pussy. Each dribble was a testament to his power, his ability to satisfy her. It was a visual representation of his triumph, a silent declaration that he was more than enough.

But as he worked, Spencer couldn't help but feel a thrill of something darker, something that called to the depths of his kinks. The need to claim her, to mark her as his own, grew stronger with every stroke of the cloth. And so, with a decision made in a split second, he set the washcloth aside. His fingers, still slick from the warm water, slid over her folds, collecting his own cum before pushing it back inside her.

The sight of his fingers disappearing into her, the way her pussy took him in, was more erotic than he could have ever imagined. He watched as she bit her bottom lip, her eyes fluttering closed as he played with his own seed. The feeling of her tightness, the way she gripped his fingers, was intoxicating.

Spencer's mind raced with all the things he wanted to do to her, all the ways he could make her feel good. His fingers moved in a slow, deliberate rhythm, pushing in and out, the warmth of her body enveloping him. He could feel her growing wetter, her walls quivering around him. It was as if she was begging for more, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Y/N's moans grew louder, her hips rising to meet his hand. She wrapped her arms around her head, her legs spread wide in invitation. "Yes," she whispered, the word a soft hiss in the stillness of the room. "Just like that."

Her encouragement spurred Spencer on, his movements growing bolder. He watched as her body responded to his touch, the way her breasts bounced with each of her breaths, the way her pussy grew slicker and more swollen. He slid a second finger inside her, feeling the tightness of her channel clench around him.

"Yes," she moaned, her voice a siren's call that urged him to go deeper, to push her further. He curled his fingers, searching for that spot that would make her scream. When he found it, she arched off the bed, her nails digging into the sheets. "Oh god, yes, right there."

Her words were music to his ears, a symphony of desire that made his cock twitch with renewed interest. He added a third finger, stretching her tight pussy around him, feeling her clench and pulse.

With his other hand, Spencer reached up to her clit, his thumb brushing against the sensitive nub. She gasped, her hips bucking in response. He felt a thrill of power, knowing that he could reduce her to this state of need with just his touch.

He began to rub her clit in gentle circles, his touch feather-light, teasing her as he felt her body tense with anticipation. Y/N's breath hitched, her eyes snapping open to meet his.

"Fuck, Reid," she groaned, her voice a mix of pleasure and surprise. "You're so… good at this."

Her words were a sweet agony, a delicious torment that made Spencer's cock twitch back to life. He leaned over her, his eyes dark with desire as he whispered, "You like that?"

Y/N nodded, her eyes glazed with lust. "Keep going," she breathed, her voice a sultry command. Spencer didn't need any more encouragement. He began to grind his cock against the bed, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through his body. He watched her face, the way her cheeks flushed with desire.

Without a second thought, he leaned in and took her clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking against the sensitive nub. Her body jerked at the sudden contact, a gasp escaping her lips. He could feel the power of his own pleasure building, but he was determined to make her come again. He knew it was a bold move, but something about the way she looked at him, the way she'd praised him, made him feel invincible.

Spencer's fingers moved in a blur, pumping in and out of her pussy as he targeted her g-spot with the precision of a maestro. He watched as her face contorted with pleasure, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. He could feel her getting closer, her walls tightening around his digits, her hips moving in sync with his hand.

Y/N's eyes rolled back in her head, a keening sound escaping her throat. Her body was a canvas of passion, her muscles tensing and releasing in time with his movements. He knew he had found the perfect rhythm, the sweet spot that would send her over the edge.

Her orgasm hit her hard, like a bolt of lightning tearing through her body. Her pussy pulsed around his fingers, her thighs quivering as she bucked against him. Spencer felt the power of her release, the tremors that rippled through her core as she came apart in his hands.

Y/N took a moment to catch her breath, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. Spencer was still kneeling beside the bed, his cock standing at attention as he watched her. He was grinding it against the bed, the sheets bunching beneath him. She couldn't help but feel a thrill of dominance, watching him seek his own release.

With a wicked smile, she reached a hand out to his chin, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "You look like you could use some help with that," she purred, her voice thick with satisfaction. Spencer's eyes snapped to hers, his breath hitching.

Y/N slid off the bed, her body a study in grace as she moved. She grabbed his hand and tugged him to his feet, her strength surprising him. "Lie down," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. Spencer's cock bobbed with every step as he obeyed, his nerves a mix of excitement and anticipation.

He lay back, the coolness of the sheets soothing to the heat of his body. Y/N took a moment to appreciate the view, his glasses slightly askew on his face, his chest rising and falling with his ragged breaths. She felt a sense of power, a thrill that coursed through her veins.

With a grace that belied the intensity of her desire, she climbed up his body, her legs straddling his thighs. The warmth of her skin against his was electric, setting his nerves alight. His cock was already hard again, standing tall, begging for her attention.

As she reached his pelvis, she hovered there, her breath hot against his length. Spencer's chest heaved, his heart racing in anticipation. He watched as she leaned in, her eyes locked on his, and took the tip of his cock into her mouth. He felt the softness of her lips, the wetness of her tongue as she began to suck, the sensation sending shockwaves through his body.

Y/N's nails lightly scraped down his torso, leaving goosebumps in their wake as she approached his hip bones. Spencer's eyes widened as she wrapped her fingers around them, her grip firm but not painful. It was a strange sensation, the feeling of being both cherished and dominated at the same time. Her nails dug in, pinning him to the bed as if to remind him that she was in control, that she could do with him as she pleased.

Her tongue traced the length of his shaft, the wetness of her mouth leaving a trail of heat that made him shiver. She took him in deeper, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked. Spencer felt the pressure build, the sensation of her tongue swirling around the head of his cock making his toes curl. He was so close, his body poised on the edge of release.

Y/N's eyes never left his as she licked and sucked with a hunger that was almost feral. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of satisfaction and amusement at his response. Spencer could feel the tension coiling in his balls, the pressure threatening to overwhelm him. He moaned, his hips bucking upwards, trying to get more of her mouth on him.

Her grip on his hips tightened, holding him in place as she began to play with his balls. She rolled them gently in her palm, her nails scraping lightly against the sensitive skin. The sensation was exquisite, a delicate balance of pleasure and pain that had him writhing beneath her. She could feel the heat building in him, the way his body responded to her touch. It was like holding a live wire in her hand, the power of his desire pulsing through her.

Y/N took her time, exploring every inch of his cock. Her tongue flicked out, licking and teasing his balls with a gentle touch that had Spencer's eyes rolling back in his head. She knew just how to manipulate him, how to coax every drop of pleasure from his body. His hips bucked, his cock straining towards her mouth as she worked her magic. The sounds of his moans filled the room, a symphony of desire that only spurred her on.

And then, she did it. She took all of him in her mouth, closing around his cock as she hummed a low, throaty sound. The vibrations hit him like a bolt of lightning, his body tensing as he felt the pressure build. Spencer had never felt anything so intense, so all-consuming. It was as if she had tapped into a part of him that he didn't even know existed.

With a final, desperate thrust, he came hard, filling her mouth with his cum. The feeling was indescribable, a mix of pleasure and relief that had him crying out her name. He watched as she swallowed, her eyes never leaving his, the hunger in them unmistakable. It was a moment of complete surrender, his body wrung out and vulnerable beneath her.

s the last tremors of his orgasm faded, Spencer's body went boneless, his muscles releasing their tension. He lay there, panting, his cock still pulsing as Y/N licked her lips, a smug smile playing on her face. The sight of her, so in control, so powerful, was almost too much.

Y/N crawled up his body, her movements sinuous and cat-like. She took him into her arms, holding him close as if he were something precious. Spencer felt a warmth spread through him, a feeling of belonging that was new and exhilarating. He wrapped his arms around her, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine as she settled against him.

For a moment, he allowed himself to just be, to revel in the aftermath of their encounter. But the question lingered in the back of his mind: what did this mean for them? Was it a one-time thing, a fleeting moment of passion? Or was there something more, a connection that could grow and evolve over time?

Y/N could see his mind racing, the cogs turning behind those intelligent eyes. She propped herself up on her elbow, her body still flushed with the afterglow of her climax. "What's on your mind, Spencer?" she asked, her voice soft and soothing.

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I just… I don't know what to think. This was… unexpected." He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "But I don't want it to be a mistake."

Y/N leaned in, her breath hot against his neck. "It's not a mistake, Spencer," she assured him, her voice a gentle whisper. "This is just the beginning."

Spencer felt a weight lift from his chest at her words. He tightened his hold on her, his heart racing with hope. "But what happens now?" he asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.

Y/N kissed him softly, her lips a gentle promise. "Now, we explore," she murmured, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "We find out just how good we can be together."

Spencer felt a thrill of excitement at her words. Being able to call her his, to claim her as his own, was a heady thought. It was something he had never dared to hope for, not with his insecurities. But now, as he held her in his arms, the possibility felt tantalizingly close.