#sensations fortes

[buzznolimit]

Sports : découvrez des vidéos à sensations fortes sur Buzz No Limit

Sur Buzz No Limit, regardez des vidéos de sports extrêmes comme le surf, le VTT et le snowboard. Compatible avec les ordinateurs, les tablettes et les smartphones, la plateforme vous permet de suivre vos activités préférées où que vous soyez.

[shalpilot]

[thaibypow]

Quel est le piment le plus fort du monde ?

Le Sommaire Pepper X est le piment le plus fort du monde. Pepper X est le piment le plus fort du monde en avril 2024. Le Pepper X affiche une moyenne de 2 693 000 unités Scoville. Certains rapports le situent à 3 180 000 unités Scoville, bien au-dessus du Carolina Reaper. Le score de Scoville a été calculé par l’université Winthrop en Caroline du Sud, qui a effectué des tests en utilisant les…

[art-vortex]

(via Coussin avec l'œuvre « "Zombie Party : Horreur Assurée" » de l'artiste Art-Vortex-fr)

[strawberryblue-blog]

Kisses —FC BARCELONA.

summary: What are their kisses like or how do they like to kiss you?

warnings: none. cute, soft, fluff, headcanon.

—Pedri Gonzalez.

His kisses are too long and affectionate. He likes the sensation of feeling you close to him, he thinks it is intimate and the most tender way to show love.

He could spend hours kissing your lips, soft and delicate, showing you how much he likes your lips. He is very shy at times but if you kiss him first, he will not be able to stop.

Your soft and full lips are like an addiction for Pedri, he loves the sensation of feeling them on his skin at any time. Whether on his cheeks or forehead. During sex, he also kisses your lips a lot, especially to silence his squeals and to make you feel loved. Because he really loves you and your lips a lot.

—Pablo Gavi.

One of the most amateur kissers in history, not of your lips but of your neck and jaw. He likes your lips but is obsessed with the soft, supple skin of your neck.

Especially because he likes to mark his trails, so when his lips are on your neck, he will play with you until you turn red. He loves the sensation of hearing you gasp and laugh at the same time.

During sex, he prefers not so much to kiss as to watch. Watching you is more his thing, but, after the action he is very affectionate and caring. Maybe there he kisses you too much to make up for what he couldn't kiss you before.

—Ferran Torres.

Ferran knows what a good kisser he is, he always received compliments about it and you always remind him of it. So when he is with you he likes to kiss you all the time because he knows how much you like his kisses.

He kisses you anywhere, no matter where it is, he knows how to make your skin bristle with so little. On your lips, neck and shoulders. Your shoulders are his weakness.

When you are having sex he doesn't kiss so much because he likes to concentrate on you but from time to time he seeks your lips. His kisses are very long and seductive.

—Fermin López.

Fermín loves kissing, loves kissing you and loves to be kissed by you. An exchange of mutual love which, for Fermín, is heaven itself. He loves to feel your lips on his, short or long, he doesn't care.

He could kiss you all day long, on your lips, your thighs, your belly, your neck or your face. He's super cheesy and tender. He knows you like it and he will take advantage of it to feel you.

Not necessarily during sex, because sometimes he can't hold back the moans and has to let them out but after he's done, he'll be a ball of love. He will kiss you so much, until you fall asleep. Just like the next morning, he will wake you up with his kisses.

—Alejandro Balde.

Although he loves to kiss your lips, his lips always find your hands to kiss them delicately. He is so tender and delicate, he loves to make you feel like a princess.

Although your lips are his favorite, he will kiss them whenever you can. Every now and then he will give you a peck on your lips. He finds it fun and romantic. He is obsessed with your mouth, so lips and tongue for him.

When you are having sex, he likes to kiss you even more. It's a different kind of connection and he loves to feel your warm lips on his.

—Hector Fort.

He's definitely a kisser, a lot. Too much. And not only that, he kisses like the gods. Hector has a gift and he knows how to use it on you.

Kissing your neck, chest and shoulders is his favorite pastime while you're together. No matter what you do he will come and take his time with you. He concentrates on you, kissing your skin delicately with that seductive and haughty touch he has.

During sex he kisses much more your breasts or shoulders than your lips. But when you're done, he'll take care of leaving you with lungs and lips asleep.

—Lamine Yamal.

He is overconfident and despite being young, he has a certain amount of experience. He loves to kiss you either on the lips or on your forehead, he finds it protective and tender.

He likes to kiss your nose too, as a little detail he has with you. But sometimes he plays rough and wants you to kiss him and take the initiative.

In sex he is a little kisser but not so much, maybe more your neck or bite your shoulders but he will definitely do it when he finishes and kiss you for a while afterwards.

—Pau Cubarsí.

He is not a big fan of kissing on the lips because he thinks he doesn't give them correctly. He's still young and just learning, he's also a bit insecure.

Clearly he doesn't agree with that, Pau is a good kisser and when he kisses you he is intense and fiery. But he likes it when you kiss him long and deep.

He prefers to kiss your face how, forehead, nose, cheeks and ears. He finds it tender and that is his way of showing his love. In bed he may be a little more kissy to show his love for you, he likes to be gentle and soft with you.

[0xstarzx0]

NDA: I need a sexy nerd. (I need Rafe) ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE.

+18

Rafe wasn't particularly strong in spelling or grammar, but math and science were more his forte.

So when the sexy, but shy girl from college asked him to give her private math lessons, he didn't hesitate.

That's how you found yourself on his desk, completely lost on your exercises.

"I don't understand anything, Rafe!" you say, burying your head in your hands. Rafe lights a cigarette and looks at the exercise.

It was so simple for him that he was holding back from laughing in your face. "Actually, you're reversing the numbers and not paying attention to the instructions."

You look at him and try again, this time getting it right. You succeed in planting a kiss on Rafe's cheek.

You desperately search for Rafe's money, he never makes you pay for the private lessons, despite your constant insistence. You look at Rafe, he's intently focused on a book.

"Rafe?" He looks up at you. "Hm?" You walk over to him, and he stands up, towering over you by a good twenty centimeters.

"I forgot your money…" You look down. Rafe places his hand on your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

"It's nothing, y/n, I honestly don't care." You raise your head. "Not me, Rafe!.." Rafe looks at you, his eyes slowly drifting down to your cleavage. You're dangerously close to him, and your breasts are straining to escape the deep V-neck of your low-cut top.

Rafe feels his pants getting tighter, but he says nothing. He looks at you and tries to stay as calm as possible. "It's nothing, y/n, you should go home, it's going to get dark soon." You were about to protest, but he gives you your things and ushers you out.

Once the door is firmly shut and he hears you walking away from his dorm room, Rafe unbuckles his belt. He removes his pants and boxers.

He leans over the bed, spreading his legs apart. He wraps his hand around his thick, hard erection and begins to slowly thrust his hips upwards, a soft moan escaping his lips.

He throws his head back and closes his eyes, his breathing growing heavier as he continues to jerk off. His muscles flex and his abs tighten with each movement.

He imagines being inside you, the way you'd moan his name, how your well-manicured nails would scratch his stomach with each rough thrust. Your bouncy breasts would bounce with each time he'd slam back inside you.

Damn, he really wants you. The passion in his actions and thoughts is palpable.

Lost in his pleasure, he doesn't hear the door to his room opening, nor does he see you kneeling between his legs. You're quiet as a mouse, observing his intimate moment, your heart racing with excitement.

"Rafe?..." You say, placing your hands on his thighs. Rafe's eyes snap open, and he sits up straight. The sudden intrusion snaps him out of his fantasy, and he looks at you, surprise written all over his face. "Y/n what are you—"

You silence him by wrapping your lips around his erection. Rafe moans, his head falling back and his hand tangling in your hair. The passion that was once just a fantasy now becomes a reality, and he can only manage broken words, "Y/n... that's..."

"Relax..." You groan as you lick the length of his shaft. "I've dreamed of this so much..." you whisper to yourself, lost in the moment. Rafe's hand tightens in your hair, and he starts thrusting gently, his other hand grasping the headboard for support.

You look up at him as you take him deeper into your mouth, his tip brushing against the back of your throat. He moans as he feels you take him so deep into your beautiful mouth.

His moans fill the room as you continue to suck him, his member stiffening further with each passing moment.

Your teeth lightly scrape against his skin, heightening the sensations. He grips your hair tighter and helps you bob your head faster and rougher, his hips bucking to meet your mouth. "You feel so good... just like that, Y/n..." he pants, his voice hoarse with desire.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you gag on his thickness. He growls one last time before spilling into your mouth, his hot seed sliding down your throat.

You savor the taste, your eyes fluttering closed as you swallow every last drop

You slowly rise from between his legs, your body trembling with satisfaction. Rafe watches you with a mix of awe and gratitude, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. "Come here..." he whispers, beckoning you to him.

You do as he says and sit on his lap, your lingering shyness causing him to chuckle. "We... can we fuck…?" you ask, biting your lip nervously. Rafe runs a hand through his hair before adjusting his glasses.

"You really have to ask?" he responds with a playful smirk. "Come here, I want to kiss you." He pulls you closer, his hands wrapping around your waist as his lips meet yours in a passionate, demanding kiss. 

His hands begin to roam, caressing your curves and pulling you even closer.

And before you know it, you're spending the night moaning his name ❤︎︎

☔︎︎✈︎

MY COMMAND ARE OPEN!!

[redvexillum]

Hello Anonnie, thank you for feeding the great Vexitober 2024. I also had a headache today, so this was an incredibly self-indulgent piece. I hope you'll see your dentist soon, 'cos things are about to get tooth-rotting fluffy.

Pain pulsed relentlessly through your skull, like a hammer repeatedly striking, each throb sending waves of agony through your temples. It wasn’t just your head, though – the stabbing sensation behind your eyes made it feel as if a thousand daggers were tearing through them.  

You whimpered softly, curling up on your side in a tight fetal position, your ears flattening painfully against the back of your head. Even your small, normally perky tail dropped, pressing against your body as if trying to shield you from the unbearable ache.  

This was Hell in its truest form. Wasn’t this place supposed to be torture for your soul? You’d never thought that meant literally headaches that felt like they could split your skull open. Could souls even get headaches? Apparently so, because the searing pain you were enduring right now was unlike anything you’d experienced in life. It was as though the universe had decided to answer your rhetorical question with a sliver platter of misery.  

A sudden, lively burst of static followed by a too-cheerful voice shattered what little peace you’d managed to carve out. “Good morning, my little doe!” Alastor’s familiar, crackling tone cut through the air like a sharp knife. Normally, the sound of his voice would send a thrill of excitement through you, his energy infectious and wondrous. But right now, it was nothing short of torture. You let out a high-pitched whimper, your ears pressing harder against your head as if you could block out the noise.  

You burrowed deeper into the blanket, pulling it up over your head in a desperate attempt to shield yourself from the light, the sound, the world. But nothing could block out Alastor, not when he had his sights set on you.  

The mattress dipped as he sat down beside you before you heard the rustle of your blankets. A moment later, his face appeared, his mischievous red eyes glowing from underneath the covers. “Oh, darling, you’ll have to do better than that if you want to hide from me.” His grin widened, as smug as ever, his amusement palpable even in the low light.  

You pouted, squeezing your eyes shut as the pain surged again, sharp and unwelcoming. “Alastor, please…” you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. “My head…it hurts so much. Can’t you just let me rest for a little while?” Your hands came up to cradle your face, fingers pressing against your temples in a futile attempt to massage away the ache. But the pain didn’t subside. It only worsened, making you feel small, vulnerable, and utterly helpless.  

“Oh, darling,” Alastor cooed, his voice soft yet dripping with that ever-present playfulness. His slender fingers wrapped around your wrists, gently but insistently pulling them away from your face. You blinked up at him, surprised by the tenderness in his touch, expecting something more teasing, more dismissive.  

Instead, he squirmed his way into your makeshift blanket fort, wriggling closer until he was lying next to you on his side, his body warm and solid against yours. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, but this time they weren’t filled with the usual mischief. Leaning in, he pressed his forehead gently against yours, and you shivered as strands of his hair brushed against your cheeks, tickling you with their softness.  

“Can you make the headache go away?” You whined softly, your voice small, fragile. It felt almost childish to ask, and you half-expected him to laugh, to make some cheeky remark about walking off the pain, as if a little stroll around the town would solve everything.  

But to your surprise, his eyes softened even more, and instead of teasing, he nuzzled the tip of your nose with his. The affectionate gesture was so out of character, yet so heart-melting sweet, it made your chest tighten with warmth. “My, and here I thought you were just trying to shirk away from your cleaning duties today,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper. “You really must be in pain, darling.” 

You scoffed, though there was no real bite behind it. “I’d much rather clean than deal with this awful headache,” you muttered, closing your eyes tight, trying to will the pain away. It throbbed persistently, but Alastor’s closeness offered a strange sort of comfort, his presence like a buffer between you and the agony.  

Suddenly, you felt the warmth of his hand as they cupped your cheek, his touch feather-light but grounding. His fingers slowly drifted down, tracing the line of your jaw, then brushing softly against your neck before resting in the crook of your shoulder. The weight of his hand was soothing, almost as if he could absorb some of your pain. “Can you sit up, darling?” He asked softly, his voice a gentle coaxing, not the usual commanding tone you were used to.  

Your eyes fluttered open, momentarily thrown off by the tenderness in his voice. Alastor – being gentle? It was a rare sight, but one that sent a ripple of warmth through you. Nodding slowly, you pushed yourself up from the bed, feeling the weight of your headache still pressing down but slightly less suffocating.  

As soon as you were upright, a sudden shift occurred – his shadows, inky and alive, coiled around you in a silky embrace. Before you could react, the world around you blurred and changed. In the blink of an eye, the soft blankets of your bed were replaced by the cool, marshy grass of Alastor’s bayou. You were in his room, specifically on the side of his pocket dimension where the air was always thick with the scent of earth and wood, and the stars above twinkled like diamonds against the forever-evening sky.  

You blinked, disoriented for a second, but the moment passed when you felt him behind you, his presence solid and reassuring. Alastor had positioned himself with his legs stretched out, encasing you within the circle of his body, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. Slowly, with a gentleness that seemed foreign to him, he began to knead the tension out of your muscles, his long fingers working in small, firm circles.  

“Oh,” you gasped, the sound escaping before you could stop it, your body melting into his touch. Your eyes fluttered half-closed, a hazy warmth spreading through you as the tension in your muscles slowly ebbed away. His hands moved with surprising skill, untying knots you hadn’t even realized were there, each press of his fingers sending a soothing wave of relief through your body.  

When he pressed a particular spot – right between your upper spine and just below your neck – you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you, your head falling back against him. The sensation was blissful, his fingers working wonders on the tightness in your shoulders and neck. “Y-you’re really good at this,” you mumbled, shivering as his fingers found another knot and worked it loose with practised ease.  

“I would hope so,” Alastor hummed, his voice low and smooth, with just the faintest edge of something possessive. “After all, only I know what my little doe needs.” There was a protective, almost territorial note in his voice, one that made your heart skip a beat.  

It wasn’t just the physical touch that made his words sink deep – it was the way you fit so perfectly into his world. You were one of the few deer demons in Hell who not only tolerated butthrived in his eccentric, chaotic company.  

He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. “I can’t have my darling in pain,” he murmured, his hands never ceasing their gentle massage. “Especially when I’m the only one who knows how to make you feel better.” His tone was playful but layered with sincerity, a strange and intoxicating mixture of affection and mischief.  

His fingers slid up through your hair, claws barely grazing your scalp as a wave of tingles surged down your spine, leaving warmth and comfort in their wake. The sensation sent your tail into a gentle rhythm, pat pat patting against the grassy ground as you melted under his touch. Every scrape of his claws ignited a sense of pleasure you hadn’t realized you craved until now.  

“My,” Alastor’s voice dropped to a low, sultry tone, his breath hot against your nape. “You must really enjoy this, don’t you?” The teasing edge in his voice was unmistakable, and you could practically hear the smirk hidden in his words. His chuckle was soft, poorly masked behind the affectionate taunting, sending another shiver through you.  

“It’s not just me who enjoys this,” you huffed, your voice taking on a playful lilt as you tilted your head back slightly, hoping to guide his claws to that one perfect spot near the base of your fluffy ears. “You like it when I do this to you too, Alastor.” You sighed contentedly, the tension in your body easing as his claws finally grazed that elusive spot. His index finger trailed up gently, scratching just at the base of your left ear. 

Every time his claw scraped the sensitive cartilage, your ear twitched in response, and you found yourself leaning back against him more fully, savouring the warmth of his broad chest behind you.  

Alastor hummed, a low vibration that you could feel in the way his cheek rested on top of your head. His breath fanned through your hair with each exhale, carrying the faintest scent of something earthy and metallic. “I suppose I do enjoy it,” he mused, the words a soft hum against your ear. “But, darling, you don’t pamper me nearly enough. Why, I should be asking you to indulge me so!” His voice lifted, taking on a playful, dramatic tone that made you snort.  

You barked out a laugh, but the sudden movement sent a sharp stab of pain through your head, reminding you that the headache still lingered beneath the comfort. You hissed softly, wincing as the ache flared again, though it was noticeably dulled thanks to Alastor’s efforts.  

“Oh dear,” Alastor tutted, his voice dropping to something soft and almost chastising. His arms snaked around you, looping over your chest before pulling you down with him to the cool, marshy grass of the bayou floor. His warmth enveloped you as your back pressed against him, and despite the coolness of the evening air, the heat radiating from his body kept you wrapped in cozy contentment.  

In the distance, the soft croak of frogs and the hum of crickets filled the air, a soothing backdrop to the intimate bubble you both shared.  

With a gentle tug, he repositioned you so that your face was nestled against his chest, his legs tangling lazily with yours. The world seemed to slow down, and you felt your pulse start to sync with the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. “Alastor?” You mumbled, trying to lift your head. But before you could fully raise yourself, his hand pressed softly against the back of your head, urging you to lay back down.  

“Shh, darling,” his whispered, his voice softer now, almost protective. “Just rest.” His fingers began to stroke through your hair again, the slow, repetitive motion sending waves of comfort and peace over you. With each gentle brush of his hand, it felt as though he was physically pulling the tension and pain away, little by little. 

You let out a soft sigh, surrendering to his touch as you relaxed fully against him. Your ears twitched at the soothing thud of his heartbeat. “It’s just a headache,” you murmured sleepily, your body going limp against him as the warmth and scent of him – of metal, earth, and something distinctly Alastor – enveloped you. “Hardly an illness.” You nuzzled further into his chest, inhaling deeply, letting the familiar, comforting scent ease the last remnants of pain away.  

“It’s too late for me, I’m already contaminated,” Alastor declared dramatically, his voice suddenly bursting with theatrical flair. “I suppose we’ll have to be quarantined here together, won’t we?” His chuckle was soft, turning into a wistful sigh as he relaxed further, his arms tightening around you protectively.  

You giggled softly at his antics, the sound vibrating against his chest. His dramatics never failed to make you smile, even in moments like this. His hand continued its slow, soothing stroke over your head, his touch like a balm against the sharp edges of the lingering headache. The pain, though still present, had dulled to a manageable hum, and soon, the gentle rhythm of his hand combined with the steady beat of his heart lulled you closer to sleep.  

“Together,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your eyelids grew heavier. The stars above twinkled softly, the night sky in his bayou serene and timeless. The world felt small and safe here, nestled in his arms, the pain fading into the background as sleep pulled you under.  

The last thing you felt before drifting off was the tender brush of Alastor’s hand stroking through your hair, and the soothing rise and fall of his chest beneath you – a steady, comforting lullaby in the heart of the bayou.  

Follow #vexitober 2024to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[readsaboutreid]

Everything To Me (Part 2) | S.R.

summary: (Y/N) finally takes the step to break things off with her shitty cheating boyfriend Warren after Spencer and her spend a perfect day (and night of passion) together, except things go awry when she tries to ask spencer out the next week only for him to spend the next few days giving her the cold shoulder.

this has smut so it's 18+ minors please dni

contains: fluffy pillow fort smut, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), munch!spencer, technically cheating because (Y/N) and Spencer fuck before she breaks up with her cheating asshole bf, angst/comfort

Part 1

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him as their lips danced together. She responded by wrapping her own delicate arms around his neck and tugging lightly, rolling over until he was on top of her. Spencer's heart raced in his chest at the feeling of her legs wrapping around his hips and her fingers tangling into his hair. When had his pants gotten so tight?

His elbows rested next to her head on each side as he held himself above her and pulled back so he could finally say, "I love you, too, (Y/N)."

She looked up at him with stars in her eyes and her pupils blown wide, and time stopped for both of them. Time started moving normally again once she used the fingers she had in his hair to tug him back down and bring their lips back together. Their tongues tangled together this time, and Spencer felt his breath hitch in his throat before a groan ripped its way through his lips when she gently ground her hips up against his. He rocked his own hips back against her, savoring the way she whimpered into his mouth as he did.

This time, when Spencer pulled back, (Y/N) started clumsily unbuttoning her dress before he gently grabbed her hands. "Hey, there's no hurry. We don't have to do anything tonight if you don't want to—"

"I want to," she murmured softly while sitting up to resume the process of unbuttoning her dress. Then she added, "i-if you want to."

Spencer's only response was to nod eagerly and sit up when she did (slowly, as to avoid hitting his head on the top of the fort) to start unbuttoning his own cardigan and then his shirt followed. The two clumsily undressed until they were both in nothing but their undergarments, looking at each other with flushed cheeks. Spencer slowly crawled back over her while she laid back down, attaching his lips to hers yet again. He was already addicted to the taste of her lips and the sensation of her tongue against his.

He slid his hands up her waist and slowly around her back until they reached the clasp of her bra. He struggled to unhook it and (Y/N) reached around to undo it herself, only for him to give her a look that said, don't, I got this. After about 60 more seconds of fumbling, the final hook came undone and Spencer removed the small piece of clothing triumphantly, grinning into the kiss.

This time when he sat up, Spencer took it as an opportunity to fully take in her beauty. In the soft, warm glow of the fairy lights her skin took on a nearly ethereal quality. He tried (and failed) to keep his eyes from dropping immediately to her exposed breasts, but when he finally did lay his eyes on them (after about 2 seconds of said trying and failing), he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to look away.

He had no idea how long he had been staring for when she snapped him out of his thoughts by softly giggling and sitting up so her face was only a few inches away, "my face is up here, Spencer."

"Sorry," he chuckled breathlessly and licked his lips, moving his eyes back to meet hers. He didn't manage to hold eye contact for very long, quickly dropping his eyes back to her breasts. His eyes bounced back and forth between hers and her breasts as he tentatively reached a hand up and shakily asked, "may I?"

She leaned back, resting her palms on the ground behind her and whispering, "be my guest." He wasted no time, reaching his hand out and cupping one of her breasts with it. An honest to god moan left his lips as he felt the soft, warm flesh in his palm. He brought the other hand up to grab the other one while his mouth found its place against hers again before trailing kisses from her mouth to her chin, and then down to her neck. He squeezed softly and brushed his thumbs over her hard nipples, gaining a soft gasp from her. He did it again, and again, and again, each time taking note of the way she'd squeeze and rub her thighs together while letting out soft whimpers.

He was so focused on toying with her breasts, moving his mouth to replace one of his fingers, gently sucking and swirling his tongue around the hardened nub, that he didn't notice her hand snaking onto his thigh. He definitely didn't notice her hand slowly creeping upward until it reached the hardness between his own legs. She wrapped her hand around him through his briefs and began slowly stroking up and down; he almost came instantly. He removed his mouth from her nipple and quickly gripped her wrist before gasping out a soft, "n-not yet. Tonight is all about you."

With that he resumed teasing her nipples, earning a slight gasp of surprise at the sudden sensation of his teeth grazing against the left one. He rested one of his hands on her inner thigh, squeezing lightly before moving it up painfully slowly. (Y/N) began spreading her legs open, letting her head tip back as her chest heaved with each breath. Spencer began kissing his way down her chest, leaving sloppy, open mouthed kisses all down her stomach until he reached the waistband of her soft cotton panties.

He could feel her shudder ever so slightly and paused to look up at her face. He slowly hooked his fingers into the waistband while he gave her a look that said, is this okay?

Her voice came out as nothing but an exhale, breathing out the softest "yes, Spencer." His cock twitched at the barely audible sound while he began slowly pulling off the last piece of her clothing. Once they were fully off he grabbed a spare pillow and had her lift her hips so he could gently place it beneath her to lift her slightly. Once it was in place he wasted no time, leaning in and giving her dripping core a soft, gentle kiss. She gasped at the contact which was followed by a soft moan as she felt his tongue slip out and slowly slide from her entrance to her clit, collecting her nectar on his tongue before making soft circles around her swollen bud.

He kept his tongue focused there, teasing and tormenting her endlessly, while moving his fingers to her dripping center and teasing the opening by pushing just the very tip of his index finger inside and then slowly pulling it out. She whimpered a soft, "pl-please," above him, her fingers moving to tangle themselves into his soft brown locks. He smiled and hummed against her while pushing his finger into her slowly and pulling it out at the same pace as before, savoring the feeling of her soft pussy around his finger.

After a bit of that he added in a second finger and sped up the pace ever so slightly, earning a loud moan from the angel above him. His throbbing hardness ached in his briefs as he felt her begin to stiffen, her fingers gripping his hair tighter and tighter. He curled his fingers up in a sort of 'come hither' motion and heard her gasp out a soft, "I'm going to—Spencer can I—oh fuck yes," the final words crescendoing into a cry of pleasure as her thighs clenched next to his head and her pussy fluttered around his fingers.

While he slowed his tongue and removed his fingers from her, he found himself licking them clean and moaning softly at the taste. She tugged at his hair softly, pulling him up into a feverish and passionate kiss. Spencer quickly removed his briefs and pushed his cock up against her, the tip pressing against her entrance lightly. He broke the kiss to ask if she wanted to continue only for her to cut him off with a desperate nod and another deep kiss, her tongue sweeping around his mouth.

He needed no more encouragement, pushing into her with a sharp thrust. His vision flashed white for a brief second and he threw his head back, a loud moan ripping its way out of his chest. He kept himself buried into her up to the hilt, basking in how good it felt to have her wrapped around him. Her legs followed suit, moving up to wrap around his hips, locking in an x-shape behind him. Her heels gently pressed into his ass as he felt her start to move against him, trying to get some sort of friction.

Oh no. He seriously underestimated how she'd feel. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined how hot, how wet, how soft she'd feel around his hard cock. He had no idea how long he'd be able to last but he was intent on trying to make her feel as good as possible for as long as he could, so he began slowly dragging his cock out of her only to push it back in with a moderate amount of force.

Eventually the two of them fell into a sort of natural rhythm and Spencer's breathing became more and more ragged. (Y/N) could tell he was getting close by the way his muscles would ripple and tense beneath her hands as she ran them along his shoulder blades and she began whispering softly into his ear, "please, Spencer! I want you to fill me up so bad," earning desperate noises from his throat that he didn't know he was even capable of producing. Her pleas only grew more and more confident, until eventually she was begging loudly as his thrusts became disjointed and rough. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he felt himself teetering on the very edge, only to be pushed over by a broken moan of his name as her second orgasm overtook her.

His vision flashed white again, her name leaving his lips in a loud cry. White-hot pleasure coursed through his veins, and he pulled her into him until they both melted into one single being of shared ecstasy. When he finally came down from his high he looked down at the woman beneath him and he could swear he must have died and gone to heaven. Her fake, neck, and chest were flushed, her pupils were blown wide, and her chest heaved with heavy pants as she attempted to catch her breath.

"Hi," he whispered with a chuckle, brushing some of the sweaty hair off of her forehead. He held himself up on shaky arms as he pulled out of her, kissing her softly once more before he rolled over and attempted to catch his own breath.

"Hi," she turned towards him, propping her head up on one of her fists. She shot him a blissful, fucked-out smile before leaning in to kiss him yet again. He reached his arms out and wrapped them around her, pulling her in to lay against his chest.

"Let's lay here for a minute and then we can go shower and clean ourselves up," she hummed, drawing lazy circles on his chest with her fingertips. Spencer only nodded in response, before he tipped her chin up for yet another soft kiss.

"Okay, this is it," (Y/N) muttered to herself, taking a deep breath as she pushed open the door of the dingy diner that she had arranged to meet Warren at. She took a seat at a table near the exit, right in front of a massive window overlooking the street. He had no idea she had seen him in bed with another woman a couple of nights ago when he had promised he'd celebrate her birthday with her, so when he walked in it was clear he was expecting this to be a date. He was wearing a button-up shirt and jeans, and was approaching the table with a single pink carnation in hand. She tried to keep herself from noticeably making a face. She hated pink. And carnations.

Until two days ago, she would have been willing to overlook the fact that her boyfriend of 5 years had forgotten her favorite flower and color and just focused on the gesture of him bringing her a flower, but not anymore. Spencer had shown her what he thought of her worth, and now she knew that she deserved better than this. Better than Warren.

As he approached the table and reached out to hand her the carnation, she readied herself to deliver the speech she had been practicing all day yesterday when something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and he was gone. She could have sworn she had seen Spencer walking down the street with a bouquet of blue flowers in hand (her favorite color), but maybe it was just wishful thinking.

"Hey, babydoll," Warren crooned, his voice grating across her eardrums and making the sea of rage within her chest boil. She hated being called 'babydoll' but never had the heart to say it to him. "Sorry we couldn't celebrate the other night, I ended up working late; we're rushing to finish up our research at the lab." His lie was delivered with such ease that if (Y/N) wasn't a profiler by trade (and also hadn't seen him balls deep in someone else not more than a mere 50 hours beforehand), she may have believed him. Instead, his words made her feel sick to her stomach, and she wanted nothing more than to hurry through this so she could leave and call Spencer to see if he'd like to spend the rest of the day with her.

"We need to talk," she responded in a stone cold voice while looking directly at him, but also right through him.

Spencer exited the florist's shop, bouquet of blooms in a myriad of blues in hand. The day was so beautiful he wouldn't mind walking the rest of the way like he had to get to the shop in the first place (truly he hated driving, and only did so when situations urgently called for it), but it had gotten fairly windy while he had been in the small corner shop, and so instead he opted to stand under the covered bus stop to try to preserve the literal delicate flowers he held in his hands. When he looked up and saw her.

(Y/N) was sitting in the window of a fairly run down diner, looking beautiful as ever. Spencer was about to get her attention with a wave when he saw Warren approach her, a single flower in hand, and when she reached out to take it from him it felt as though a ton of bricks fell from the sky and crashed onto Spencer. She was there reconciling with Warren. After everything he had put her through, and after everything Spencer had done to lift her spirits and show her that he loved her truly and deeply.

He dropped the bouquet of flowers and walked away, his head a swirling mess of anger, hurt, and confusion.

Monday

(Y/N) walked into the bullpen with her cup full of what was basically pure espresso with the slightest amount of milk and two teaspoons of sugar (which Garcia had dubbed the 'Latte of Champions') and looked around the room, hoping that Spencer, too, had arrived early. She spotted him sitting at his desk with a file open. She resisted the urge to full on skip as she headed over to greet him with her standard hug only to nearly fall on her face when Spencer quickly swiveled in his chair out of the way and stood, walking away and calling out a greeting to their colleague Derek Morgan, who had just entered as well. (Y/N) ignored the sting, figuring that the case file he was working on was important and that he had gone to their more experienced colleague for assistance.

She sat at her desk and began working on her own paperwork, waiting for her friend to return so she could ask him if he'd like to accompany her to the Doctor Who convention to which she had managed to snag some amazing 4-day passes. As the day passed she made attempt after attempt to speak with Spencer only for him to walk off suddenly as soon as she began every time. Each time, he had been pulled away by Morgan calling for his attention, almost as if they had arranged it so that any time she approached Spencer, Morgan hailed him. That couldn't be the case though. Could it?

Wednesday

Two days of this behavior had passed and (Y/N) figured that if by today she couldn't get him to talk to her long enough to ask about the convention that he'd just miss out and she'd ask Garcia to accompany her, instead. She finally managed to corner him, though, when Morgan had gone to lunch, leaving the two of them alone in the bullpen.

"H-Hey, Spencer," she began shakily, her anxiety eating away at her vocal cords so that her voice was nothing more than a soft whisper as she approached his desk. She hoped he had just been busy the last two days and not angry with her for some unspecified reason, although the more he avoided her the more that she feared that was exactly the case.

"I'm working," he muttered, sending a harsh blast of ice in (Y/N)'s direction without even looking up at her, "what do you want?"

"Uh— I, um— I-I w-was won—wondering," she attempted, her face flushing a deep shade of red as she stuttered, "uh— um, I was won—wondering if—"

He sighed deeply, his annoyance nearly palpable as looked at his watch and then finally up at her before sighing, "today, if possible."

Fuck. Fuck. She was about to burst into tears before she finally forced the sentence out. "Iwaswonderingifyouwantedtogotothedoctorwhoconventionwithme."

"I don't have a ticket," he replied flatly.

"I-I m-managed to get my ha-hands on a couple—" he cut her off before she could finish her sentence.

"I'm busy that day." She hadn't even mentioned which day. Or that it was four days. But he had already turned back to his work and had pointedly turned his chair away from her. His message was so clear it could have been written out in big red letters across the wall in front of her. 'I don't want to talk to you.' He suddenly closed the file he had been working on, turned around and stood up, and walked away while not even bothering to step around her, knocking into her and pushing her aside as he went.

She stood frozen by his desk as the shock rolled through her. Tears stung her eyes; the room felt hot and began to spin around her so she rushed in the general direction of where (she thought) the bathrooms were located, but she instead ended up running head first into Agent Gideon, who steadied her by gently grabbing her shoulders.

"Whoa, there," his eyes looked right into her soul as he asked, "is everything okay?"

She knew he already knew the answer was no, but lied anyway. "Yeah, just heading to the restroom." She averted her gaze so that it was locked on the ground.

"Then you'll wanna head in that direction," he responded, his voice even more gentle than his grip as he turned her around by her shoulders. "He'll come around, don't worry." Of course he knew. She didn't know if Spencer had talked to him, but even if he hadn't she wasn't surprised. Gideon's profiling skills were so out of this world that sometimes (Y/N) was convinced she worked with some sort of alien and not just a very wise, very talented human being.

After being literally pointed in the right direction she rushed off to the bathroom. The feeling as if she was going to vomit had gone away after her exchange with Gideon but the tears still began flowing as soon as she closed the door to the first stall.

Tuesday

JJ looked through the office, seeking out (Y/N) as Garcia and Elle trailed behind her. It had taken her a month after joining the BAU to come out for drinks with the team, but Spencer had seemed to pull her out of her shell immediately. Everyone in the office had seen her withdraw this past week and taken note of the fact that the two of them no longer ate together during their lunch. JJ pushed the door to the women's bathroom open and heard the sound of soft sobs followed by a gasp, as if someone was inhaling to hold their breath.

"(Y/N)? I was looking for you—Elle, Garcia, and I were going to try that new bistro down the street for lunch. Did you wanna come with?" JJ's voice was soft, tentative as she stopped outside of the stall. (Y/N) just sat still and held her breath, clearly hoping JJ would just walk out but instead she just knocked softly on the stall door. "I know you're in there—I can see your shoes. You don't have to talk about why you're upset if you don't want to, but just come to lunch with us?"

JJ loosed a breath as she heard the door unlatch before it slowly opened, and (Y/N)'s tear-stained cheeks peeked out. JJ reached into her purse and pulled out a small pack of tissues as (Y/N) stepped forward, murmuring a soft thanks as she reached for the pack and pulled one out, wiping her cheeks and then blowing her nose. They walked together to the sink so she could rise her face. After she dried it she kept her gaze locked on the ground but followed as JJ led her out into the bullpen where Garcia and Elle were waiting.

The four of them made their way to the bustling street and walked to the small bistro. Once they were all seated and looking at their respective menus, Garcia blurted out, "so what gives? You and Spencer are attached at the hip one moment and then last week you two suddenly just stopped talking to each other."

(Y/N)'s eyes fell to the table and began to swim with more tears. JJ and Elle shot a look her right as Garcia gasped, "oh, (Y/N) honey no don't cry! I'm sorry you don't have to answer that if you don't want to just please—oh god someone shut me up."

"What Penelope is trying to say is that we all noticed that something clearly went down between the two of you and we're worried," JJ smoothed over, reaching out to gently cover the crying agent's hand with her. "We just want to try to help you feel better," she added gently. So (Y/N) broke down and told them everything, starting with Spencer driving to pick her up from outside of Warren's apartment.

"I'm gonna kill the skinny little bastard," Garcia fumed from her seat as (Y/N) finished explaining everything that had happened since then.

"I'm sure there was some miscommunication. He's an idiot, obviously, but Spence isn't the kind to just use them and lose them," JJ murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. She'd get to the bottom of this.

JJ approached where Spencer and Derek stood, conversing in hushed tones. When she reached them she grabbed him by the elbow and spat out, "come with me, Reid." She ushered him into Garcia's office where she and Elle yet again stood waiting for JJ while he protested that he was in the middle of a conversation. When she got him into the small, warm room, she had him sit in Penelope's chair and shut the door, moving around him to stand next to the other two and crossed her arms.

"Okay, Spence. What the hell has gotten into you recently?" She demanded, staring at him and chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"What are you talking about, JJ?" He looked up at the three women in front of him and saw them all glaring at him in the same way.

"We all know you're a genius, doctor Reid, so don't bother trying to play dumb," Garcia quipped, her tone uncharacteristically cold as she glared daggers at the man in her chair. "How could you just use (Y/N) and then dump her like that? The poor girl has been in shreds for the past week and a half!"

"Oh, that's what she told you I did, is it?" Spencer retorted, anger suddenly flaring in his chest. He looked between the three of them as they stood in front of him and stood up, making to leave the office.

Elle blocked his path and said, "not in those exact words. She told us the lengths you went to to seduce her, and then once it was successful you started ignoring her after you got what you wanted from her it seems."

Spencer sat back down and let out a bitter laugh, "why would I bother? After everything I did to show her how much she meant to me, how much I cared for her, she went crawling back to Warren to reconcile. I saw them myself on a date in a run down diner."

"Reconcile?" JJ rolled her eyes and slapped her palm to her forehead, "Spence you're supposed to be a profiler, how could you be this stupid?" Spencer opened his mouth to respond but before he could, JJ explained, "she was breaking up with him, you idiot. That's what you saw. She wanted to do so in a public place so she could make a quick escape if he tried to make a scene."

Spencer froze, piecing everything together in his head, before his eyes went wide and his face paled. "Oh god," he breathed as he ran a hand through his hair. "Excuse me," he muttered, looking down at the ground as he stood and exited the office, this time unobstructed. As he entered the bullpen his eyes scanned the room, bustling as everyone packed up their stuff to go home for the evening. He couldn't see (Y/M) until he looked at the elevators and saw her waiting in front of them.

"(Y/N)! Wait for me," he called out, nearly falling flat on his face as he sprinted over to her. He caught up to where she was just as the elevator arrived and he followed her in, panting and thinking yet again to himself that he needed to really start up some sort of cardio routine.

As he met her eyes he felt his chest crack slightly. Looking up at him were the same heartbroken eyes he saw the night he went to pick her up from Warren's place, and guilt washed over him at the realization that this time it was he who was responsible for the sorrow in her eyes. "C-can we talk?" He panted, still struggling to catch his breath. She didn't make a silly remark at how quickly he ran to reach her this time. Instead, she just nodded before looking back at the ground and swallowing.

"I-I'm so sorry for how I've been acting towards you the past week and a half," he said, his breathing finally returning to a normal rhythm. "I-I had seen you with Warren in that diner after we had spent the two days together and I saw him hand you a carnation and I thought you were there to reconcile with him and I was so-so hurt and confused and I know that doesn't excuse any of my behavior towards you but please just let me take you to dinner to make up for it if that's oka—" he was cut off by a pair of soft, small hands being paced on his cheeks and a pair of soft lips—her lips, meeting his.

"You're cute when you ramble," she smiled as she pulled away from him. "I'm sorry you felt that way, I should have told you what my plans were to avoid all of this."

"Well if I had just approached you about the issue like an adult none of this would have been a problem," he responded breathlessly before the elevator doors dinged and opened back up to a shocked looking Agent Morgan, revealing that they hadn't actually moved.

"Oops, forgot to hit the floor I needed to go to," (Y/N) laughs, her cheeks turning a soft pink color.

"That actually works out because I kind of hurried to catch up with you and left all of my stuff at my desk," Spencer admitted, his own cheeks flushing a bit. He stepped out of the elevator and Morgan stepped back on. As the doors closed (Y/N) called to him, "I'll wait for you downstairs so we can go get dinner!"

He smiled to himself as he walked over to his desk, gathering his things and hurrying to get back to the elevators so he could take the girl of his dreams out for a second date.

[twstafterdark]

Kisses

Author's note: Ever wondered how he kisses you?

Content: established relationship | headcanons | suggestive but lowkey horny if you read between the lines

Malleus Draconia

Kisses to Malleus are like pecks on the cheek, endearments on the forehead, and light sniffles on locks of hair. Such gifts were imparted by Lilia, as the fae grew to the present day, to remind him that he was loved and cared for. These were then transferred as gifts to Sebek and Silver from when they were children, from Malleus and Lilia, to which the same sentiment was shared so they wouldn’t be afraid to love. 

Kisses, for Malleus, meant imparting something more than familial love; love that went beyond his familial ties with Lilia, Silver, and Sebek, but a profound craving of you that consumed his very being. He thought of how to approach you on the topic of love, watching your lips part as you spoke. 

He thought of how to kiss you - should he steal your breath away with a singular kiss, or should he approach you softly, letting your lips naturally meet into a gentle lock? Such thought occupied the fae’s mind as he glimpsed your eager smile. 

He sweeps you off your feet, watching moonlight bathe your silhouette with bright light. He indulges himself to you, hungrily seeking your taste with his forked tongue. You let out a surprised gasp, opening your mouth slightly ajar for him to take in every corner of your mouth. 

He takes pleasure in your expression, his hand itching downwards to your waist to hold you close. You shiver in his arms, trying to catch up with his pace. Yet, he gives pauses, pressing his forehead against yours as he whispers words that can only be heard by you: “Child of man, may I partake in you for tonight?”

Floyd Leech

Floyd watches your figure reading a book, woefully thinking to himself on what to do to assuage his boredom. Surely, he can make do with himself and read a book too, but the boy had other ideas. “Nee, nee, [Reader]? Wanna try kissing?” 

Such a question startled you - what was Floyd doing with this? You perk an eyebrow to your partner, who merely gives you a toothy grin. Did he want to speed things up in your relationship, or was he simply pulling your leg? You put down your book, hoping for the latter. 

Entertaining Floyd being your forte, you consent to his whims, anticipating a light kiss on your lips. What you got instead was a kiss that felt like no other - one that was surprisingly gentle yet dominating, languid and steady. You feel a hand creep on your back as if to keep you steady and close to Floyd’s frame. 

You could feel yourself shivering from his kiss, your hands wandering to his shoulders. Floyd was taking control of the kiss, overwhelming you sweetly with a move you didn’t expect him to do. He pushes you onto the bed, entrapping your attention to the kiss as he lets his hands wander down your body. 

Heat rushes up your cheeks and ears as you notice the palpable tension between you and your lover. Dull copper and graphite stare at you, a toothy grin a haunting image of delight. “[reader], is today okay?” He asks, playful words dancing at his lips.

Rook Hunt

Rook was often one to give you kisses, whether it be kisses on the back of the hand or playful air ones that he’d send your way when you’d pass him by. He knew how to press your buttons, flustering you in the process when he’d impart you such gifts. 

At times, you’d ponder to yourself on how to reciprocate his love, thinking on what ways you can prove that you also love him back. Finally, you came to an ultimatum: giving him a kiss back. 

You thought to yourself, thinking that such a gesture would be unoriginal, but you perished the thought. This was you returning the favor to Rook, where he had to give you so much love, and in return, since you deemed it appropriate, was a kiss. 

Rook gives pause, feeling your lips land on his. Delight could best describe the warm sensation permeating throughout Rook - why his beloved had given him a kiss! Sure, you had taken him by surprise with such a gesture, but he was more than happy to reciprocate it nonetheless. 

He laces his fingers with yours, his other hand taking you by the small of your back as if he were assuming a waltz position and joining your lips to a dance of passion. He lets himself go to your pace, watching your reaction as he lets a tease or two into the kiss. Only then, do you lose breath, bringing forth a sliver of spittle to spill from your lips. 

[shonen-brainrot]

Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who revels in the whirlwind of our past relationship, now faces the aftermath of your departure after you decided to cut him off. Fueled by a fiery concoction of rage and heartbreak, he struts into a darker, more sinister version of himself, leaving reverberations of chaos in every damn corridor of his existence.

Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who'll be showing up uninvited at your new home because he heard you were moving on with someone new, the sting of jealousy evident in his actions.

Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who'll be engaging in heated arguments and raising his voice out of sheer jealousy anytime he sees you happy. "You think you can just walk away and I'll let you? I'll make sure every step you take is a reminder of what you left behind!"

Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who will apologize for screaming at you with a warm hug after yet another argument he caused.

Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, for whom the training becomes a way of releasing his pent-up anger at himself, which sometimes leads to him overdoing it and pulling something or straining a muscle, but he refuses to go to the medbay in his agency because he knows you might be there.

Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who can't get used to sleeping alone at night. For years you had always been there with him, and now that you aren't, the silence and the loneliness are deafening. He's still intoxicated by the memories of you, relentlessly holding onto the past and struggling to move on.

Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who somehow finesses you into going out for a drink one evening when your new boyfriend is off doing whatever at the delegation, all in the name of talking and setting things straight. Surprisingly, you end up having a blast, reminiscent of the good old times, and, of course, you both get completely wasted. With the night still young, you both decide to hit the dancefloor.

Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, with his hands shamelessly exploring every inch of your body as you grind your ass against his crotch, completely oblivious to the impact it's having on him. Katsuki grunts throatily into your ear, a vice-like grip on your hip and waist, because subtlety was never his damn forte.

Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, whose brain's on the fritz, declares that it's high time for you to saunter your way back home. In the taxi he commandeers, he lounges on the back seat like he owns the place, a solid arm draped around your shoulders as your head lazily lolls on the crook of his neck. Amidst giggles and banter, you reminisce about the good old times.

Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, his other hand making a bold move between your thighs. Mentally thanking the universe for your choice of a short dress, he smirks as his rough fingers skillfully push aside the fabric of your panties to rub your folds slowly. You, under the influence, offer no objection. A wicked grin plays on his lips as he relishes the sensation of your wetness slowly covering his fingertips, and you can't help but let out an anticipatory gasp.

Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who, the moment you two step into your swanky new house, wastes no time pinning you against the nearest wall. He swiftly tugs your panties down your legs, expertly wrapping your leg around his hip. With a hand that's practically shaking, he skillfully works on unbuckling his pants.

Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who drives his cock into you, evoking a gasp from your parted lips. He's relentless, kissing and nibbling on your exposed neck, growling with satisfaction at the wetness and warmth of your ever tight pussy is enveloping his throbbing member.

Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who's railing you, going all in with a pace that's as fast and brutal as a damn hurricane. He has your thighs shaking as you scream his name. Your pussy clenches around his cock, practically begging for every drop of his cum, and he's more than willing to oblige, growling in your ear, "Yeah, bitch, just like that, taking my cock so well, just like back when I was your boyfriend. You miss my cock, hmm? Yeah, of course you do, tsch!"

Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who unleashes a guttural growl like an animal as he finishes inside you, emptying his balls deep in your cunt until the tip of his cock brushes against your cervix again and again. Katsuki's seed spurts as the man kisses you with a hunger, sucking on your tongue. "I'll fucking make you mine again, doll."

[shitsndgiggs]

what if Hector took out all his anger with a rough sex after a match they lost? a smut about this would be sooo good. like a rude and hate sex with y/n ;)

btw i love ur writings smm 🫶🏻

A/N: WARNING SMUT!!

I’M HERE, ALWAYS - HÉCTOR FORT

In which Héctor comes home angry after losing a match. And you can’t seem to stop talking

Héctor Fort x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The Barcelona locker room was thick with disappointment and frustration as Hector stormed out, his heart heavy with anger after a devastating loss.

The echoes of his teammates' muted conversations faded as he walked through the corridors, each step fueled by the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

The taste of defeat lingered on his tongue, bitter and sharp.

As he stepped into the quiet of his home, the weight of the world pressed down on him. I had been waiting for him, knowing he would need someone to talk to, someone to help him process his emotions.

"Hey," I greeted softly, watching him kick off his shoes with more force than necessary. "Tough game, huh?"

Hector didn't respond, his jaw clenched and eyes dark with a mix of anger and disappointment. I followed him into the living room, where he collapsed onto the couch, rubbing his face with his hands.

"I know it sucks," I continued, trying to keep my voice gentle. "But it's just one game. You guys will bounce back. You always do."

He shot me a look, his eyes intense and intimidating, but I pressed on, determined to break through his wall of silence.

"Remember last season when you lost to Madrid? Everyone thought it was over, but you guys came back stronger than ever. This is just a setback."

Hector turned his head slowly, fixing me with an intimidating gaze that could have cut through steel. His dark eyes bore into mine, and for a moment, the air between us crackled with tension.

"Seriously, Y/N?" he said, his voice low and laced with irritation. "I don’t need a pep talk right now."

Undeterred, I sat beside him, my hand reaching out to touch his arm in a comforting gesture. "Hector, it's okay to be upset. But you can't let one game define you. You're an amazing player, and you—"

"Stop," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

I froze, but only for a moment. "No, I won't stop. You need to hear this. You need to know that one game doesn't change who you are or how good you are. It's just—"

Without warning, Hector grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me towards him. Before I could say another word, his lips crushed mine in a harsh, aggressive kiss.

It was unlike any kiss we had shared before—it was angry, demanding, and it took my breath away. I could taste the bitterness of his frustration as his tongue invaded my mouth.

I knew then that I had pushed him too far with my attempts at comfort. He was going to take his anger out on me, and there was nothing I could do but surrender to it.

My body responded to his kiss despite the underlying aggression. I felt a rush of wetness between my legs as his hand tightened on my wrist, pinning me against him.

When he finally pulled back, we were both breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. "Shut up and ride me," he growled, his voice hoarse with anger.

I did as I was told, knowing that arguing would only fuel his anger further. I quickly took off my sweatpants and my panties.

I straddled him, feeling the hardness of his dick pressing against my ass through his jeans.

Reaching down, I fumbled with the button and zipper, freeing his thick, rock-hard cock. It sprang out, eager and twitching, and I guided it to my entrance.

Slowly, I lowered myself onto him, taking him deep inside me. We both moaned at the sensation—me at the fullness, and him at the tight, wet heat of my pussy.

Gripping his shoulders for support, I began to ride him, lifting my body up and slamming back down onto his lap, taking him balls-deep with each stroke.

Hector's hands gripped my thighs, guiding my movements as I bounced on his cock. "más rápido," he growled, his breath hot on my neck. "Ride me harder."

I did as he commanded, increasing my pace and grinding my hips in circles, feeling his cock hitting all the right spots inside me. The couch creaked beneath us as our bodies slapped together, the rhythm of our fucking filling the room.

His hands squeezed my thighs, leaving bruises, and he thrust up to meet my downward motion. "You like that, don't you?" he said through gritted teeth. "Taking my cock while I'm angry."

"¡Sí!," I moaned, my head thrown back in pleasure. "I love it. I love feeling your cock inside me."

Hector's fingers dug into my flesh, and he lifted me slightly, changing the angle of his cock inside me. "You're so wet for me," he growled. "So fucking wet. You love it when I take control."

"Yes," I whispered, my body trembling on the verge of orgasm. "I do. I love it when you use me like this."

His thumb found my clit and began to rub circles around it as I rode him. The combination of his thick cock stretching me and his thumb working its magic pushed me over the edge. "Oh, God, I'm cumming!" I cried out, my body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me.

Feeling my pussy clench and spasm around his cock only served to fuel Hector's anger-filled passion further.

With a growl, he sat up, still embedded inside me, and flipped us over so that he was on top. He began to pound into me with fierce, powerful strokes, taking control completely.

The force of his thrusts pushed me along the couch, and I could do nothing but hold on as he used my body to satisfy his needs.

His angry grunts filled my ears, and I could feel his balls slapping against my ass with each deep thrust.

"You're gonna make me cum," he growled, his eyes wild. "Gonna fill that tight pussy of yours with my hot cum."

Hearing him talk so dirty only served to excite me further, and my pussy clenched around him involuntarily. "Cum for me, amor,” I begged. "I want to feel you explode inside me."

His pace quickened as he chased his orgasm, and then, with a roar, he stiffened, buried deep inside me. I felt his cock twitch and pulse as he filled me with his hot, sticky release.

His eyes drilled into mine as he came, and for a moment, the anger disappeared, replaced by pure, raw passion.

Collapsing on top of me, he kissed me deeply, his mouth tasting of satisfaction.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "I just... I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to forget, even if just for a moment."

I cupped his face gently, my thumb brushing against his cheek. "It's okay, Hector. I get it. Sometimes, we all need a distraction."

I pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, feeling the tension in his body slowly begin to ease. "You don't have to carry it all by yourself. I'm here, Hector. Always."

[buzznolimit]

Sports extrêmes : vivez l’action avec Buzz No Limit

Passionné de sports extrêmes ? Plongez dans l’action sur Buzz No Limit avec sa section dédiée. Découvrez des vidéos de surf, de vélo de montagne et de snowboard en streaming. La flexibilité d’utilisation sur divers appareils assure une immersion totale où que vous soyez.

[nostalgiclittlespace]

🍂Fall Activities for Regressors!🍂

Go to the apple orchard

Go to the pumpkin patch

Take a walk amongst the fall trees

Rake and jump in fallen leaves

Design a jackolantern

Make a hand-turkey

Bake fall treats

Make a Halloween costume with things you already have on hand

Make a small burrow for your stuffies with blankets, drawers, etc—they might need a place to hibernate when the winter comes!

Watch cozy movies

Play trick or treating with your toys; you can set up their ‘houses’ around your room by putting them in drawers, closets, etc. and then leaving a small treat to collect with each one. This can be a scavenger hunt too if you have someone set it up for you

Make a blanket and pillow fort

Design Halloween costumes for your toys

Make a leaf collection or collage. See how many unique ones you can find!

Try a new hot drink, such as tea, coffee, cider, pumpkin juice, etc that you’ve never had before

Make a list of your favorite fall things and sensations, one for each sense. (Touch, smell, taste, sound, sight)

Watch a thanksgiving parade, or make one with your toys. What floats and outfits and flags will they have? (to any my international friends, note this one is namely for American Thanksgiving, which is in November)

Keep your eye out for Black Friday deals on toys!

[railingsofsorrow]

you are in love (taylor's version)

[spencer reid x reader]

SONG INSPIRATION » YOU ARE IN LOVE (TAYLOR'S VERSION) by taylor swift

summary: moments in which you realise you love him, but he has no idea.

pairing: s.reid x gn!reader

w.c: 2.4K

warnings/content: friends to lovers trope; angst because spencer is an oblivious idiot; case related discussion; fluff I promise; a whole paragraph in italics means it's a flashback.

A/N: sorry for the delay to post this I've been busy. hope you like it, have a great day <3

[part of the “taylor swift anthology”]

navi

masterpost

taylor swift anthology

criminal minds masterlist

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❝ morning, his place 

burnt toast, sunday

you keep his shirt 

he keeps his word. ❞

“I thought we agreed that you were not allowed in the kitchen.”

Your voice startles Spencer for a second. He flinches while trying to pull the slight burned toast out of the toaster. Your mouth is pulled into a grin as you notice his messy curls on the top of his head, his hands working fast on turning the tap on to diminish the burning sensation on his fingers.

“I am not that terrible.” Spencer hisses, pouting at his red fingertips. “I can make breakfast... I think.”

“Without setting yourself on fire? I seriously doubt that.” You tease him, approaching his hunched frame over the sink. With a soft touch on his shoulder, you take his hand on yours and lead it towards the water. You nudge him playfully. “Thank you for this, it smells great.”

Spencer lets out a huff in protest but the corner of his lips betray him. His heartbeat as fast as a racing car as if he had been running away from someone, all because of your touch on him.

Last night was a rough one for you.

You didn't feel particularly great after a case and you completely shut down anyone who tried to talk to you. That included Spencer, but you weren't able to delay your conversation as he invited you over for a movie night, a request you could tell he needed as much as you did, and you ended up sleeping over at his place as many other times before. However, this time, it was different.

Not because you slept in one of his shirts and his smell lingered near you on the bed during the night but because you sobbed into his chest and he held you into his arms, comforting your shaky frame as his hands traveled across your back and neck with the utmost care in the world.

Although physical touch wasn't his forte, Spencer didn't seem bothered to cling to you the whole night, and his touch was more than welcomed by you. You fell asleep in his bed, in his shirt and in his hold. It was the best night sleep you've had in months.

❝ and for once, you let go

of your fears and your ghosts

one step, not much

but it said enough ❞

“You think it could work out?” You asked him one day in the middle of your chess match on your way back home. Everybody else was dozing off while the two of you remained in your own little bubble. Tired but not enough to refuse a chess game.

Spencer moved one of his pawns forward, eyes traveling up to you questioningly. “What could work out?”

“You know,” you trailed off, biting your lower lip distractedly as you thought about your next move. You were going to lose anyway, might as well make the best of it to not be a total fool in front of Spencer. He'd get pretty smug after he won and though you can admit that you found it endearing, you hated losing. “Two members on the team in a committed relationship.”

“The fraternization policy—”

“Spence, c'mon.” You give him a short laugh. “Forget the stupid fraternization policy. I want to know if you think it could work out.”

He was silent for a moment, pondering over your request and you could tell he was probably gathering as many statistics as he could to provide you an answer. Truthfully, you don't know why you had asked that. Your previous conversation had initiated because you commented that you still had not found a dress to Derek and Savannah's wedding, you had no idea why it ended up on that question. You blamed exhaustion for your poorly choice of topic.

“It depends on who you're talking about.”

You shrugged, crossing your leg over the other. “No one in particular. I was just... thinking.”

“If they manage to be professional while at work then I don't see how it would be a problem.” Spencer concludes, the corners of his lips twitching as he notices your slip. He wins the match not long after. Not that you were surprised.

“Would you do it?” You were responsible for the disturbance of silence once again, but the question has been hanging over your head since your previous conversation. What if it was... us? Would it work out? Has it ever gone through your mind like it has with mine? “Actually, don't answer that. It's none of my business, I'm just sleepy and asking dumb questions.”

“Yes.” He answered after a beat, lifting his attention from the book to you. His gaze piercing into your curious one. “If it was worth it.”

❝ you can hear it in the silence ❞

“You don't have to apologize for rambling.” You said, throwing a pillow at him after he suddenly cut himself off, blushed bright red and apologized. “I like to hear you talk. All the time.”

“All the time?” Spencer raised a questioning brow as if he didn't trust your words. You can see why, given that most of the people you know rudely interrupt him in the middle of his speech about something he's passionate about.

You nodded, your mouth slowly stretching into a soft smile. “Yes. All the time. I mean it.”

His honey brown eyes scanned you for a long minute before he resumes his explanation about why Jung's ideas seemed to make more sense than Freud's. You listened to it, chipping in every now and then with a hum or a simple question. You'd do anything to keep him speaking, Spencer's voice was calming as observing the ocean on an empty beach. It's quiet and grounding. Peaceful.

❝ one night he wakes

strange look on his face

pauses, then says

you're my best friend

and you knew what it was

he is in love ❞

At some point, you drift off with your head leaning on his shoulder. His fingers carefully brushing stray strands away from your lashes. He was always so careful with you.

“You're my best friend.” You are able to hear. You don't move. You don't breathe. The following statement makes you glad you don't, because you wouldn't act with your head but with your heart and you didn't know if that was wise at that moment. “What if I love you a little more than that?”

❝ you can hear it in the silence ❞

There is a coffee cup waiting for you on your usual place at the roundtable one morning. The logo from your favorite coffee shop and you could practically taste the drink before it was even in your mouth.

He always knew your favorite order. And it seemed like he'd rather get you coffee from a place on the other side of town before work than actually exchange words with you.

A week after you slept over at Spencer's place, it all changed too quickly. He stopped answering your texts and proceeded to avoid you as much as he could during cases. You really tried to find the reason of why that could be happening. Did you do something? Did you overwhelm him in some way? But again, how was it fair to be treated so cold by your best friend if you didn't even know what you did?

So you don't apologize. You just treat him the same way. But you don't hold onto that coldness for long, because after the evening came around and you earned a busted lip and a concussion from an Unsub, Spencer finally seems to acknowledge your presence. He doesn't leave your side for the whole time the paramedic is examining you.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you say, clenching your jaw after the paramedic finished their job. “Seems like you care for my wellbeing even if you're avoiding me.”

“Don't walk too fast. You still have a concussion.” He follows you as you walk towards the car. You turn around, too quicky for you liking cause your vision spins for a second until it focuses again. Spencer's about to say something, reprehend you, more likely, when you interrupt him with fury in your tone.

“And why do you care?” You fire at him. “It's not like you've been ignoring my entire presence for a week, is it?”

Spencer's widened eyes tell you he doesn't expect you to lash out like that.

“I- I haven't been ignoring you.” Spencer stumbles with words. Excuses. You let out a scoff, turn around and walk off to the second car Hotch would be driving. Rossi and Emily are talking amongst themselves when you enter the backseat and shut it without a second word.

Emily eyes both your figure inside the car and Spencer helplessly weighing his options of going after you or letting you go.

He decides on the latter, she observes as he retreates back to the other car where JJ, Derek and Blake are already getting ready to leave.

Upon arriving back at Quantico, the first thing you did was say your goodbyes to everyone and immediately head to grab your stuff on your desk, observing the remaining twenty manila folders for a split of second until you harshly decided on going home and finish them tomorrow.

“I am not avoiding you- Not, not on purpose.” Spencer clenches the strap of his satchel, watching you freeze as you are about to open your car door. You hadn't give it much thought when he left at the same time you did since you always parked close and he would probably ignore you again. You're tired of playing games, if he wanted to withdraw from your life without a reasonable explanation, then so be it. Well, at least for tonight. You need at least one good night sleep without Spencer Reid controlling your mind. “I'm sorry.”

You turn around quickly, not realising how close he is until both of you took a step back as if you have been burned. With pink cheeks from either the cold or embarassement, you cross your arms trying to get a grip on yourself, focusing on his shoulder rather than his eyes.

“Why are you apologising?”

Silence envelopes the two of you and you actually think he had walked away and you had been left by yourself in the parking lot without an answer. However, when you lift your gaze, you're met with soft brown eyes studying you with awe.

He doesn't look away when he realise you caught him staring. Spencer is tired of avoiding you. Avoiding this.

“I was a coward.” Spencer let out a shaky breath. “I was scared and-and that made me a coward. I never wanted to cause a rift in our friendship-”

“It's too late for that, Reid.”

Spencer flinches as if he's been slapped. You hold back your wince. You don't mean to be cruel with your words but your lack of sleep and stress from the last case were making you feel sick of interacting with another human being. Even Spencer, who you would never get tired of. Maybe his childish behavior had contributed to that.

Don't call me that. You never call me that.

He takes one step closer and then one more towards you.

“I have feelings for you.” Spencer breathes out as if he's been holding it for a while — well, he had. “I didn't know how to— I didn't want to lose you and I was terrified to do something that—” his stuttering is enough for you to see how nervous he was. You have no idea where it all came from, but there wasn't an ounce of hesitation as he confessed and his eyes glint with a newfound determination. You suck in a deep breath as he says the next words. “I love you as more... as more than a best friend.”

“You're my best friend.”

“What if I love you a little more than that?”

“... so I avoided you because I didn't want to ruin us. I... I'd rather be your friend than lose you for good. Did I ruin that too?”

What if it was... us? Would it work out?

“For an IQ of 187 you sure can be dumb sometimes.” You utter in disbelief, all of the cold of the night giving place to the warmth of a familiar feeling bumping through your chest.

Spencer gives you a puzzled look, hurt flashing through his gaze. “What?”

“Spencer,” you let out in a whisper, seeking for his hand slowly. “do you remember when I asked you if two people in the team could work out in a committed relationship?”

A frown etches into his forehead.

“Yes,” he answers carefully.

You bite back a smile, fingers raising from his arms to his shoulders until you can reach the back of his neck. Spencer is focused on your eyes, completely hypnotized.

“You told me it could work out—

“... If it was worth it.”

“... if it was worth it.” Your lips quirk up as his hands lower to fit perfectly around your waist. Your noses barely touching. Personal space becoming a an unknown language between the two of you. “Well, I happen to think this is very much worth it and it wouldn't ruin anything.”

His eyes lower to your lips for a short moment. “It wouldn't?”

“No. Mostly because I haven't exactly been discreet about it and I have no idea how you didn't realise but... I love you too, Spencer.”

His eyes snap to yours, hands tightening instinctively around your waist which made you slightly weak in your knees. “You— what? How?”

Raising a brow in amusement, you smirk, “you're asking me how I love you?”

“I—no. I don't— I just didn't... expect that.” I can see that. “You feel the same? You have feelings for me?”

Your exhale, caressing his cheek fondly. “Yes, Spencer.”

Spencer. Not Reid.

Spencer.

His gaze once again falls to your parted lips. “Then I was an idiot.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement. “Pretty much. Yeah.”

A large grin spreads across his mouth, so wide you'd think it might split his pretty face in two. God, you missed that. You missed him. Everything about him.

❝ you are in love. . .

“Can I kiss you?”

You scoff, pulling him closer by the tie, “Finally, I thought you'd never make a move.” Then your lips crash as if you are two people starved for weeks and the only thing keeping you alive is each other.

true love. ❞

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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid; @yeonalie

[art-vortex]

(via Coussinundefined avec l'œuvre « "Explosion d'Énergie : Couleurs et Motifs à Gogo" » de l'artiste Art-Vortex-fr)

[hmslusitania]

Ask meme! For TimKon, either 17. “Please stay.” or 34. “When did you know for sure?”

May I offer you: an angst with a happy ending? (who am I kidding; it's you, of course I can)

“When did you know?” Kon asks, staring out well past the horizon. Tim thinks that surely, he must see it, must be able to tell, he’s got fucking super vision of various sorts, but… But he sounds so dejected about it. Like he… like he hadn’t been able to tell. “For sure, I mean, when did you figure it out?”

“Um,” Tim says, and picks up a handful of sand on this very not-at-all real version of Kon’s favourite beach in Hawaii. “Last… night.”

Kon’s face burns bright red and Tim can’t really look at him anymore.

It all feels too real, even though this place isn’t anything of the sort.

And he’s pretty sure that includes Kon.

It had been a smart plan, Tim can tip his hat at the villain du jour for that, at least metaphorically. Trap Tim in a simulated reality, but instead of making it somewhere he knows inside and out, like Gotham, like Happy Harbour, they’d programmed him into a place he only knows in story and rumour. Tim wouldn’t really have any way of determining if there were differences between the real Hawaii the real Kon’s been talking about for as long as Tim’s known him, and this fake, simulation of it. And the programmers had done a pretty perfect job with Kon, too, except for the parts where he can’t tell that this whole place is a simulation, and the part where…

“My Kon, I mean the one who’s not a computer programme, because, like, he’s not mine, mine,” Tim starts. “He’s not… y’know. In love with me.”

Kon is silent for a minute, just staring out at the water and at the small waves lapping steadily higher up the beach while the sun rises. Tim would find this whole conversation a lot less excruciating if computer!Kon was wearing more than boxers with the House of El logo on the crotch, but, well, this simulation was designed to trap and torture him, so he’s not.

“I don’t feel like a computer simulation,” Kon says finally, and buries his toes in the sand like he’s making a point of feeling the sensations. “I remember — I remember meeting you when you were still Robin and I didn’t know who I was beyond Superman’s replacement, and I remember Bart, and Young Justice, and Cassie, and the Teen Titans, and dying and—”

“They probably built you off a brain scan of the real Kon,” Tim says. Tact and gentleness have never been his fortes but, fuck he tries this time.

“Right, and just, like, tweaked my memories so that I can remember being in love with you half that time, and the entire time I was lost in Gemworld, and—”

“Yeah, I guess they must’ve,” Tim says, even though it makes him want to puke. “This place is too… it’s too perfect. You’re too perfect.”

Kon scoffs, and makes a choked off noise that’s all too familiar after last night and Tim flushes with shame that he knows what Kon sounds like now. The thing is, it’s a very, very good simulation, and this isn’t knowledge Tim should have, because out in the real world, Kon doesn’t want to share that information with him.  It’s none of Tim’s business, no matter how desperately he wants it to be.

“Nice to know I’m apparently good enough in bed to convince you it’s all too good to be true,” Kon says, with forced bravado.

Tim swallows, because that assessment isn’t untrue, but it’s only part of the story. “Also I think my biometrics must’ve spiked high enough to temporarily overload the system, because a bird clipped through our room while we were, uh…”

“Oh,” Kon says, blushing even harder. “So, um, now that you know this is fake, does that mean you’re going to escape?”

“Yeah,” Tim says. He swallows. “I just have to crash the programme, make it generate something so insanely huge its processing power can’t keep up.”

“Oh, right, just that,” Kon says. He very gamely swallows, and because he’s built on a very convincing facsimile of Tim’s real Kon, he stands up and nods. “So what do you need me to do?”

**

Tim is not surprised when the explosion they trigger in the simulation tips him out of it’s destabilising pixelated mess into a sketchy futuristic lab. Spaceship? Probably spaceship by the black starfield outside the windows.

He is surprised when his own exit from the gel couch matrix situation is echoed by someone else in another matching chair thing behind him.

He grabs for any kind of weapon available and rounds the central structure, ready to strike, only to find himself face to face with—

“Kon?” he demands. “You’re here too?”

Kon defuses the heat vision that had been starting to build behind his eyes, and then just stares at Tim, blushing a violent red like the heat vision had dispersed through his cheeks.

“Of course he is here too,” an annoyed voice that gives major evil scientist vibes says over the PA. “The simulation traps work best when there are two parties within them to reinforce the shared folie à deux!”

“Sh-shared?” Kon asks.

“Both of us were in the same—” Tim starts, and he understands Kon’s blush better now because he can feel his own viciously taking over his face.

“You thought I was a simulation,” Kon says, floating out of his matrix plug in chair to loom over Tim even taller than he usually is.

“You’re in lo—” Tim starts, but their captor’s voice crackles over the PA system again.

“Yes, yes, teenaged angst. You may continue your argument once my assistants have placed you back in your simulation!”

“We’re twenty-one, actually,” Tim corrects. “And you can—”

He means to tell the disembodied voice exactly where he can expect Tim’s bo staff (as soon as he finds it in one of the cargo pods here in this space station situation they’ve got going on) but Kon cuts him off by pulling Tim’s face into his hands and kissing him.

No birds clip through the walls this time, and the sensation of Kon’s TTK sweeping over him, like it’s not enough to just be touching Tim with his hands, like he has to touch all of him at once, is one that Tim hadn’t been able to fully conjure up out of his imagination. It’s different enough that Tim actually forgets for a second that they’re imprisoned on a space station and have been under for god knows how long, and he seriously considers simply climbing Kon like a tree right then and there to get the actual physical details mapped out.

“I can’t believe you thought my love confession was a simulation,” Kon murmurs against Tim’s lips.

Tim hums and kisses him again. Really, actually kisses Kon. Who really, actually wants to kiss him, too. “I meant it when I said you’re too good to be true.”

“Good thing we’re in a really shitty situation we need to figure our way out of if we want to get back to earth so I can show you the real version of that beach,” Kon says. “Because that part feels pretty on par.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, and sighs. He can hear the distant thuds of whatever sorts of robocop automata their captor has coming towards them now, and this fight’s gonna kinda suck, he thinks. At least there will be one hell of a reward for making it through to the other side. “Ready to fight for our lives?”

“With you?” Kon asks, and can’t help himself but to pull Tim in for one more kiss. “Always.”