#sensations fortes

[buzznolimit]

Sensations fortes : explorez l’inexplicable avec Buzz No Limit

Buzz No Limit, la plateforme incontournable pour les amateurs de sensations fortes, vous propose une expérience unique avec son « Thread Horreur��». Ce reportage exclusif vous transporte sur l’autoroute A13, théâtre de la légendaire Dame Blanche. À travers des vidéos captivantes et riches en détail, plongez dans les témoignages effrayants de conducteurs qui affirment avoir croisé cette mystérieuse…

[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)

[draqu1a]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ A RISKY STREAM . . .

— what kind? : SMUT — warnings : sexual&suggestive content ahead , viewers discretion is adviced , MDNI .

• fic inspired by : @bernardsbendystraws

The neon glow of Matt's gaming rig painted your face in shifting hues as you gripped the controller. "Chris, you seeing this shit?" you yelled into the headset.

Chris, cackled from the other end of the Discord call, his voice echoing through your head set. "Nah, I'm too busy carrying your sorry ass! You are trash tonight."

"Shut up," you retorted, trying to focus on the digital firefight unfolding on the screen. You were sat down on Matt's lap, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, ostensibly to "guide" your gameplay. But tonight, his guidance was… almost distracting.

"Focus, babe," Matt murmured, his breath ghosting against your ear. "There's a guy flanking you on the left."

Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one with a hand slowly inching its way under their shared blanket, sending shivers down your spine that had nothing to do with the game.

"I see him, I see him," you muttered, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your core. Your fingers fumbled on the controller, your carefully constructed fort crumbling under a harsh wave of digital bullets. "Fuck!"

"Language, sweetheart," Matt whispered, his fingers now tracing the curve of your hip, dangerously close to your core. A little squeeze to your hip. The digital bullets blurred. You died.

"God damn it!" you hissed, partially peeling off your head seat . "I’m trying to concentrate here, Matt."

He just grinned, his eyes dark and knowing. "Am I distracting you, baby?"

"Maybe a little," you admitted, trying to inject some playful exasperation into your voice. “Chris thinks we are loosing on purpose.”

Chris’s voice boomed through the speakers. “What was that? Did I hear you two lovebirds finally admit you're throwing the game?"

Matt chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated against your back. "Nah, man, just… strategizing. Right, babe?" His fingers continued their torment, dipping lower and closer with each minute passing by.

"Yeah, strategizing," you managed, your voice a little breathless. You reached for your water bottle, hoping the cool liquid would take out the sudden heat flooding the inside of your body.

"Okay, well strategize faster! We're about to get wiped," Chris complained, oblivious to the silent battle happening beneath the blanket.

Matt leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. "He doesn't need to know how we strategize," he murmured, his fingers now finding the edge of your shorts and dipping below the waistband. "Does he, baby?"

"Matt, stop," you pleaded, even though a part of you was begging him to continue. The chat if they would find out, would go absolutely crazy, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Focus was a blur.

"Stop what? Helping you relax?" he teased, his touch becoming bolder, more insistent. A gasp escaped your lips as his fingers traveled beneath your flimsy lace panties, going right where you needed him the most.

"Dude, are you even listening?" Chris yelled. "There's a whole squad pushing us!"

"—Uh, yeah, Chris. We're on it," Matt said, his voice a little strained. He was watching you, not the screen. His eyes held a promise of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

His fingers slipped inside of your already drenched entrance. You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan. The game, Chris, the chat – it all faded into a distant hum. All that mattered was the electrifying sensation building within you, the relentless pressure, the exquisite torture.

"Matt…" you whispered, your voice thick with desire.

"Almost there, baby," he breathed, his thumb pressing down on your sensitive clit while his slender fingers drive out of you with increasing speed and skill. "Just a little more…"

Chris's voice was a distant drone. "Hey, guys! What the hell are you doing? We're already dead!"

You didn't hear him. You couldn't hear anything but the pounding of your own heart, the ragged sound of your own breath, and the soft, satisfied sigh that escaped your lips as pleasure finally overwhelmed you, your gummy walls clenching down and sucking matt’s fingers in deeper as they soaked his digits in your liquids.

The screen went black. Your avatars returning to the main menu as the result of you dying and receiving a low score.

“Kid, I’m out for the night. Try to improve those shitty skills cuz tonight was not it.” Chris announces, taking off his head set before ending the discord call, before you decide to follow along.

Peeking off your own head set and muttering a quick goodbye to the stream, quickly ending the live stream to not raise any further suspicion on what you two were doing the whole game.

"Finally, I now got you all to myself," Matt said, pulling away slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Now, where were we?"

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹🃜 . yappin claudia : second fic on this account :pp, I don’t know how to feel bout this exactly xd but wtv .

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹🃜 . taglist : @strnilolover @ifwdominicfike @courta13 @sturns-mermaid . . . .

[satorurize]

Show me who you are..(p✩rnstar!)

Pornstar au; Sylus and Rafayel + a special bonus at the end <3

Warning: 18+, smut, MDNI, this is self indulgent and pure hornball energy, reader is fem

♡ Sylus

Definitely a solo performer, is infamous for his pov videos. Doesn't show his face since he's also the leader of the Onychinus and revealing his beautiful face would put him in a vulnerable situation.

He's got all the gears, the whips, harnesses, ropes. Soft BDSM was his forte. Initially he only did talk throughs for his massive and largely female audience, his subscriber count soaring through the roof just after his first video. His deep, raspy voice, ripped body and big cock did it for him.

But then, you came along, a captivated fan who sometimes took out time from your busy schedule as a hunter to indulge yourself in his videos, having no idea that it was actually the man you had encountered in the N109 zone. You had a hint, so you weren't too surprised when Sylus obliged to his dear fan to do a video together. He wasn't going to collaborate with anyone else besides you anyway.

He made sure you were blind folded with a lacy fabric which was enough for people to be able to recognise you.

He had you on your knees, hands tied onto your back with a clean knot, your beautiful bare body on display for him and his audience to enjoy.

Sylus dragged the tip of the cane tantalizingly, maybe perhaps with a playful sense of revenge from that one time you had him on his knees.

Your nipples were caressed beneath the leather of the cane, body shuddering at the cool sensation while heat pooled between your legs, you were embarrassingly wet with your inner thighs coated with your nectar.

Seeing a small trickle of your wetness down your thigh, Sylus immediately had an amused expression on his face. A smirk lacing his lips while he rubbed the leather now onto your soaked folds.

"Mh..please..more.." you pleaded in desperation, which was immediately followed by a soft spank with the cane onto your pussy, enough to make you jolt at the impact.

"Please what kitten..? Use your words." You let out a shaky breath at his sterness, it turning you on beyond measure.

"Please..sir.." Sylus was pleased with this switched dynamic, letting out a hum of approval as his fingers replaced the cane. The cacophony of your moans and the squelching from your wetness as he plunged his fingers within your cunt echoed the room.

Your body was worn as the man pulled orgasm and orgasm out of you. The floor a puddle of your juices as he made you squirt, over and over again. His greed really couldn't be satiated.

Some people were clearly envious of this very special guest but majority seemed to enjoy the new addition, the number of subscribers soared for him exponentially.

♡ Rafayel

Famous for his pretty face and passionate fucking. The way he did things in the bedroom were pure fun. Rafayel was providing his subscribers what most people weren't, and that was unadulterated romance between you and him.

The artist that he was, Rafayel shooting porn with you was always cinematic. The lighting, the angles where always set up in a manner that it would make the viewers even appreciate the aesthetics of it.

His sense of humor was incorporated in how he fucked, making his you laugh while he rearranged your guts and while managing to maintain his seductiveness. Took skill for most people, but Rafayel was a natural with his innate ability to be so..magnetic.

Anyone who craved watching "passionate sex", your and Rafayel's channel fit every single parameter of that genre.

Recently, the two of you were recorded a video in his bathtub, titled 'fucking my sweet girlfriend after a long day at work.'

Your back rested against his chest, his warmth merging with yours as he fondled with your breasts, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You giggled as you felt the tip of leaky cock brush against your folds and you decided to toy with him a little, pressing your thumb on his slit, with a glint of mischief in your eyes. A very evident throb passing between your legs when you heard him whimper for you.

That didn't really make you stop, now having your hand pump his length while you had your head turned to have your eyes gazing into his half-lidded ones, hazy with your touch.

It didn't take time for him to switch on you, making you face him with your thighs straddled onto him, with you positioned on top but the one to pull the strings was him, his hand settled onto your waist as you rode him slowly, but sensually. Each vein of his cock discerned against your cloying walls as you made love for the camera, that you forgot even existed.

He always made sure to give you a nice creampie by the end of it, or paint his cum onto your tits as the vision seemed to entice him. His videos were always inclusive of aftercare with him peppering kisses all over your body that appeared like worship. His and your fans always ate it up.

♡ Bonus! Sylus & Rafayel

You don't know what came over you, but you did not expect your beloved lemurian boyfriend to agree sharing you with Sylus for a video. There was some animosity in the beginning between the two, the bantering and both of them unleashing their sass upon each other.

However, all of it was soon wiped away when you were stuffed with Sylus' cock in your walls while your mouth skillfully worked on Rafayel's, hands placed onto his thighs for support. Things were a bit slow and steady at the beginning, neither of them really releasing their inhibitions until you begged them to be rougher.

Rafayel knew you could handle it, observing how well you took the other mans cock. He did feel a sense of pride in the end that you belonged to him.

"She can handle it, look at her..practically soaking your cock." He assured pulling out from your the hot cavern of your mouth. Rafayel leaned down nudging his nose on yours. "You can handle it, can't you cutie..?" You frantically nodded, all sense of shame already left body the moment the duo had you positioned between them on your knees. "Yes I want it..I want it so bad.." Sylus leaned in to plant kisses all over your back, tracing his fingers onto the cleft of your spine before he set a rougher pace as you asked. "Is this to your liking sweetie..?" Your replies only being a string of yeses and honeyed moans before your boyfriend gently guided on his cock again.

The two of them ruined you with pleasure together, leaving you to be a well fucked mess by the end of it.

Let's just say, this video remained too exclusive to be uploaded anywhere.

[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.

[lindsaynathi0n]

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!!

[buzzinrusso]

Unexplained love

Based on this request, right here!! I'm actually really proud of this one, so enjoy and keep sending in requests!!

---

Leah had always been there. In ways that you sometimes took for granted, she was your constant, your companion in every chapter of your life. The two of you had known each other since childhood—since before you could even properly remember, when your parents pushed you together on playdates, only for you to bond over something as simple as a soccer ball or a shared joke. What started as an accidental friendship slowly blossomed into something unshakeable, a connection that stretched through every phase of your growth.

Your small town, just outside London, wasn’t a place where people could easily hide, and Leah and you had grown up together in that same tight-knit community. There was a park near the edge of town, and countless hours of your childhood were spent there—hours running around in the summer heat, kicking footballs with Leah, creating games that only made sense to the two of you. When it rained, the park became your personal world of imagination, where your “missions” were anything but typical. You’d build forts out of old tree branches, create treasure hunts, and spend hours lying on the grass, staring at clouds and dreaming about things that didn’t seem to matter—until they did...

Through all of this, Leah was never just a friend. She was more than that. She was someone who saw you for exactly who you were. If you had a rough day, Leah would always know before you even said anything. You didn’t need words when Leah was around. Her presence alone was a comfort. Her laugh was the thing that could break any of your bad moods, and when she spoke about her ambitions—her love for football, her dreams of playing at the professional level—it was like everything in the world could fit together perfectly.

“Promise me you’ll never leave?” you asked one summer day, as you both sat side by side on the park bench. You weren’t sure why you asked it then. But something about the moment, the way the sun filtered through the trees, made you voice the fear that had been growing inside you.

Leah’s hand found yours, her grip tight and comforting. “Promise,” she said, her voice steady as ever, “I’ll never leave.” And as a child, you believed that promise, without hesitation.

---

As time passed, however, things inevitably changed. It wasn’t just the shift from childhood to adolescence that marked a difference—it was the shift within yourself. You had begun to notice the way your feelings for Leah had deepened, but you hadn’t understood them yet. You had no idea how to process the shift, how to handle the overwhelming sensation that you felt when Leah stood a little too close or laughed in that way that made your heart do funny flips.

The first sign came when you were thirteen. Leah had always been fiercely competitive—something you admired—and when she started to take football seriously, you saw the intensity in her eyes that you had never noticed before. The practices, the matches, the way she pushed herself—it was as if she was becoming someone else, someone who had her own dreams, her own future. You were proud of her, but something else stirred within you, something you didn’t know how to explain.

It was subtle, a flicker of jealousy at first. When she’d mention a boy from the team or when she’d laugh at Ryan’s jokes (someone you’d never really paid attention to before), it gnawed at you. You tried to brush it off, to dismiss it, but the feelings grew like a tide that was impossible to outrun.

The first time Leah talked about Ryan, it didn’t seem like anything special. He was a teammate, she said, just a guy she’d been getting to know. But then, as the weeks went on, she began talking about him more often. And every time she did, a strange sensation grew inside you. It wasn’t jealousy, or at least you didn’t think it was, because it wasn’t the kind of jealousy you felt when someone took your favorite toy. This felt like something deeper, more visceral.

And then, the first real break came. You were fifteen, sitting in Leah’s room one late evening, when she told you about her first kiss. She didn’t know why it hurt to hear it, but it did. Leah’s voice was light, but there was a strange ache behind it.

“It wasn’t that special,” she said, brushing it off. But the words hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable. You smiled, though it was a half-smile. “That’s great, Leah. You deserve someone who makes you feel special.”

But you didn’t feel special in that moment. You felt empty, and it took everything inside you to push those feelings back down into a place where they could hide—far away from the world. You had never questioned your feelings for her until that moment, but as she laughed about it, something deep inside you cracked open, and you realized: you wanted to be the one who made Leah feel that special.

---

Things came to a head one night that summer when you were sixteen. It had been building for months, like a storm on the horizon, and neither of you had seen it coming. Leah had been talking about football again, her eyes sparkling with the passion that drove her. But you weren’t listening to her words anymore; you were just listening to the rhythm of her voice, to the way the light from the bedside lamp danced in her hair, and to the soft rise and fall of her breath.

“I think I’m actually going to make the team this year,” Leah said, and you nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, because for the first time, you were realizing that you didn’t want to lose her to football. You didn’t want her to leave you behind in her pursuit of greatness. You didn’t want to be the one watching her from the sidelines.

Before you knew it, you were leaning in, your lips brushing hers. It was a soft kiss, barely a touch, but it felt like the world had suddenly shifted. For a split second, everything around you blurred, and there was nothing but Leah and the overwhelming flood of emotion that rushed through you.

Leah pulled back immediately, her face pale. You froze, your mind racing, but your body unable to move. Neither of you spoke at first. You both seemed to be trapped in that moment, unable to do anything but stare at each other, unsure of what had just happened.

“I’m sorry,” Leah whispered quickly, her voice panicked. But the words didn’t seem like an apology, not really. They sounded more like a denial, as if she were trying to erase the moment from existence. And in that silence, you felt the weight of it all—felt the fracture forming between you that neither of you had expected but both of you could now see.

---

The next few days passed in a blur. Neither of you mentioned the kiss, but it was always there, lurking in the back of your minds. Leah seemed to pull away even more, immersing herself in football practices and talking more frequently about Ryan. The distance between the two of you was palpable now—every conversation felt strained, like you were both pretending that everything was the same.

In the meantime, you began to focus on Alex, a boy from school who had started to show an interest in you. At first, it was easy to fall into that relationship—he was sweet, he liked you, and he didn’t make you question everything the way Leah did. When Alex kissed you for the first time, it was nothing like Leah’s kiss, and for a moment, you thought you had found a way to forget. But it was fleeting. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Leah’s face, heard her laugh, and felt the ache in your chest that no one but her could fill.

Leah, too, seemed to move on. She and Ryan started spending more time together, laughing, holding hands, and it felt like a sharp knife twisting in your gut every time you saw them together. You wanted to be happy for her, but you couldn’t. The jealousy, the anger—it all bubbled up inside you in a way that made you sick. She wasn’t supposed to be with him. She was supposed to be with you.

---

It was the night everything finally broke open. The tension had been building for weeks, and you couldn’t ignore it anymore. You couldn’t sit by and watch Leah slip further away from you, especially not when you knew, deep down, that you were both still holding on to something neither of you could acknowledge.

You called her late that evening, asking her to meet you at the park. It felt like the only place you both could truly talk without the weight of the world around you. When she arrived, you could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the way she avoided looking directly at you. You had been avoiding each other for too long. It was time to confront it.

Leah sat on the swing, pushing herself lightly as she stared down at her feet. The air between you was thick with unspoken words.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, the frustration in your voice barely masked. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Why are you with him? Why are you pretending nothing happened between us?”

Leah’s face flushed, and her eyes shot up to meet yours. There was something raw in her gaze, a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N,” she said, her voice trembling. “You think this is easy for me?”

“I don’t care if it’s easy,” you snapped. “I care that you’re pretending. I care that you’re with him when you know how I feel about you. You know I can’t keep doing this. I’m not okay.”

Leah stood up abruptly, her fists clenched at her sides. “I’m not pretending,” she yelled. “I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know what to do!”

The words hung in the air like smoke, suffocating the space between you.

“You don’t fix it by running away!” you shouted back, the anger in your chest rising. “You fix it by facing it! By facing what we both know is true. You can’t keep acting like nothing happened, like nothing changed.”

For a moment, Leah looked lost, her eyes softening, the anger and fear giving way to something else. Slowly, cautiously, she took a step toward you, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

“I don’t know how to make this right,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I’ve always loved you, Y/N.”

And withthose words, everything seemed to shift in that instant. It was as if a dam had broken, and the flood of emotions you both had been holding back came pouring out, unrestrained and raw.

You felt your heart race in your chest as Leah stood there, her eyes full of uncertainty and longing, just as you felt in that moment. The world around you blurred once again, and all the years of friendship, of confusion, of unspoken feelings, suddenly rushed forward. For a second, neither of you moved, standing in the weight of the silence.

"I never knew how to tell you," Leah whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind rustling the trees around you. "I thought I could just ignore it, just focus on football, focus on anything but us. But I couldn't. I still can’t."

You stepped forward, your breath catching as you tried to process what she was saying. You had always known something was between you two—something deeper, something that you couldn’t explain even to yourself. But hearing her admit it, hearing Leah say she had been holding onto the same feelings, broke something open inside you.

"You’ve always been everything to me, Leah," you replied, the words tumbling out of you, honest and without hesitation. "And I... I’ve been too afraid to tell you. To ruin what we have, what we’ve always had."

Leah took another step closer, her face so close now that you could feel the warmth of her skin, her breath mingling with yours. There was no more distance between you, no more hiding. You could see the vulnerability in her eyes, the same fear that mirrored your own.

"I didn’t want to ruin us either," she said softly, her voice shaking slightly. "But I think... I think we've already ruined it. We've been lying to ourselves for so long, pretending that we don’t feel this way. And I can't do that anymore."

Your heart skipped a beat. "So, what do we do now?"

Leah’s hand reached out, brushing against your cheek gently, her touch soft but electrifying. "I don't know," she whispered, "but I think we should stop pretending. Stop running away from this."

And in that moment, there was no more pretending, no more fear. You could see it in her eyes—this was real. The feelings you’d both buried for so long had finally surfaced, and there was no turning back. There was no more question of whether it was okay to love each other in this way.

Without another word, Leah leaned in, her lips finding yours in a kiss that was tender, slow, and full of everything you had both been too afraid to say. The world around you seemed to fade away, the years of friendship and the years of longing collapsing into something undeniable. This was the moment you’d both been waiting for.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, both of you stood there, your foreheads resting against each other, both a little dazed by what had just happened. The awkwardness that had filled the space between you for weeks was gone, replaced by an undeniable sense of clarity.

"I don’t know how we move forward," you said, still a little shaken. "But I know we can figure it out. Together."

Leah nodded, her hand brushing against your arm as if confirming that, yes, you were in this together now. "I want to figure it out. I want to be with you. I’ve always wanted that."

The reality of it all settled in, and even though neither of you knew exactly what the future would hold, for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like an impossible distance between you. It felt like a beginning. A new chapter.

---

The weeks that followed were filled with challenges, as both of you navigated this new dynamic in your friendship and relationship. The first time you held hands in public was nerve-wracking. You had spent so many years walking side by side without thinking twice about it, but now every touch seemed loaded with meaning. You learned quickly that no one could understand the complexity of what you were going through unless they had been through it themselves.

Leah and you spent hours talking about everything—your feelings, your fears, your hopes for the future. There were times when it felt like the whole world was against you, as if your connection was something so rare and fragile that it could slip away in an instant. There were people who didn’t understand, people who made assumptions or doubted your bond. But it didn’t matter. You knew that what you shared was real, and in the end, that was all that mattered.

Football was still a big part of Leah’s life. She threw herself into it with all the passion and drive she had always had. But now, you were there with her, standing on the sidelines, cheering her on—not just as her friend, but as someone who saw her in a new light. You were proud of her. Proud of her achievements, her strength, and the way she managed to balance her dreams with this new chapter in her life.

You, too, found new ways to grow. No longer hiding from the truth of your feelings, you learned to love yourself alongside loving her. You found strength in your vulnerability, in the openness that came with finally admitting what you both wanted. Sometimes, it was hard, and there were moments where you both doubted yourselves. But the foundation of your relationship was built on years of trust, of shared memories, and a deep, unshakeable connection. That was something neither of you could ignore.

The world around you started to shift, too. You both made new friends, met new people, and began to embrace the future with all the uncertainty it held. It wasn’t always easy—relationships, especially ones like yours, took time, effort, and constant communication. But you were learning how to do it, together.

Leah and you spent many more nights under the stars, just as you had when you were children, talking about everything and nothing. You had both been through so much, and yet, somehow, you knew that the hardest parts were already behind you. It was just a matter of building something new, something that was yours alone.

And in those quiet moments, you found peace in knowing that whatever the future held, you had each other. That was enough. Enough to weather the storms, to face the unknown, and to finally, truly be free to love each other in the way you had always known was meant to be.

---

Years later, when you both looked back on those early days, you couldn’t help but laugh at the way things had unfolded. The confusion, the fear, the uncertainty—all of it had led to this point. You and Leah had grown, individually and together, stronger than either of you could have ever imagined.

Leah’s name was well-known in the football world now, and you had found your own path in a career that fulfilled you. But no matter where life had taken you, Leah had always been there—by your side, the one constant in a world full of changes.

And as you stood on the edge of the field one evening, watching Leah train for an upcoming match, you knew one thing for certain: there was no one else you’d rather face the future with. Your love, built on years of friendship, had become the foundation of everything you were. Together, you were unstoppable.

And that was how you had always meant to be—together.

---

[leighsartworks216]

With Bated Breath

Sylus x gn!Reader

Sometimes I think about their fucked up childhoods and have to cry in a corner about it

Based on this post

Warnings: fluff, light angst, sickfic, fever, cuddling, references to homelessness and death

Word Count: 829

Main Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Sylus stirs awake, shifting where he lay on his stomach to watch what appears to be a blanket-monster approaching the bed. Quilts, furs, throws - gathered into one pile and now dropped to be on the unoccupied half of the bed. The person carrying them is gone before he can ask. He settles back into a comfortable position, stretched out like a cat in the sun, and quickly drifts off again.

He’s woken up again who-knows-how-long later. His heavy eyelids crack open to watch you, sitting on your knees on the bed with your back to him, shifting the pile of blankets and a series of pillows around as quietly as you can. With a cursory glance, he also notices the hoard of snacks, juice bottles and water bottles at the foot of the bed.

“What’re you doing, sweetie…?” he murmurs. His voice is low and raspy.

If you’re startled, you don’t show it as you look at him over your shoulder. “You’re sick.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “So you’ve decided to build a pillow fort while I sleep?”

You huff, feigning annoyance, but there’s something else beneath it. A softness at the edges, betraying genuine concern. It’s so hidden - shoved deep down beneath your usual façade of neutrality and disinterest. He can’t help wondering why.

You shift around the pillows some more, adjust a blanket here and there. It’s like watching a bird build a nest. When you’re finally satisfied with your handiwork, you open the blankets and sit back against the pillows, propped up against the headboard. You continue to hold the blankets open expectantly, nodding your head to your lap.

With nothing being explained to him at all, what more can he do besides follow what you want?

Grunting, he lifts himself up and crosses the distance, slipping under the blankets with you. Your lap acts as his pillow. You cover him with the blankets, tucking him in in a way completely foreign to him, carefully ensuring that he’s covered up to his neck and that no air can get in.

“You’re really doing all this just because I’m sick?”

You run your fingers through his hair. His back tenses, then relaxes, giving in to the sensation. It’s so easy to let go; hugging your waist, tucked in and warm, comfortable - he’s never been safer.

His hair is damp from sweat. His skin burns with fever. Goosebumps raise on his arms. You don’t seem deterred by any of it. You press your cool hands to his forehead and the back of his neck. Your fingers nimbly massage at his tense muscles. It’s hard to believe you’re capable of something so soft after the things he’s witnessed you do.

“I was worried,” you admit quietly.

He chuckles. It’s not as rich as usual, but it rumbles through him just the same; like thunder rolling over distant hills. “It’s just a cold, sweetie. I’ll be fine in a couple days.”

You’re silent. You scratch gently at the base of his scalp, drawing a sigh from the man. “Get some sleep.”

It’s an easy order to follow. You’ve managed to provide him all the comforts he could ever wish for. Admittedly, it’s a bit unusual for Sylus. He’s never been doted on like this. His whole life, he’s never really had someone to hold him or take care of him before. It seemed like such a weakness. Something left behind closed and locked doors, where no one can find him. He can see the appeal now.

In mere minutes, he’s dozing off. His breaths are even. The quiet rasp of each inhale and exhale fills the air. His mind teeters on the precipice of unconsciousness. Dreams and reality converge in a haze. The only thing that keeps him from slipping under is a voice, so soft and so unfamiliar it registers with the same level of danger as a high-level Wanderer sneaking up on him in the dark. Fortunately, his reflexes are slowed by his fever, because half a second later, he recognizes who’s speaking.

It’s you.

“Please don’t die…”

You whisper it into his hair with a light kiss, before it’s brushed away by your fingers. But you sound so… scared. Like a child. Like you’ve done this exact thing before - created a nest of blankets and a hoard of food and drinks, held someone in your arms… and they died.

You’d never admit it, if you did. That life is far behind, and you’d both promised that it will remain there. You’d never know his childhood and he’d never know yours. But he knows enough to guess.

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t give away that he’s actually awake. Instead, under the pretense of stirring in his sleep, he holds you tighter, tucks himself closer, and stills with a sigh. He can only hope, as he finally falls into a world of dreams, that you do not anxiously wait with bated breath to make sure he makes it through.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08

[buzznolimit]

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[insidekatmind]

Trip~Hector Fort

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

You're staring at the asphalt flowing beneath you, a hypnotic dance of black and white lines that blend and separate. The car radio plays an old playlist that you put on in a hurry before leaving. Hector holds the steering wheel with one hand, the other resting casually on the gear shift, as if it had always been there, as if belonging to him was the most natural thing in the world.

His fingers drum to the rhythm of the music and every now and then he turns to you with a little smile as he sees how you try not to moan.

You could hear the noise of the vibratory that was in your pussy.

You try to hide your discomfort, crossing your legs tightly and biting your lip to stifle a moan. Hector's smirk only grows wider as he notices your struggle. He reaches over and turns up the volume, the bass thrumming through the car and vibrating your seat. His hand on the gear shift inches closer to your thigh, not quite touching but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from his palm.

"Having fun back there?" he asks, his voice low and teasing. "You're looking a little... flushed."

He glances at you, his eyes lingering on your chest before snapping back to the road. The car accelerates slightly, the increased speed pressing you back into your seat and making the vibrator buzz even more insistently against your sensitive flesh.

You let out a moan as the vibrator gives you pleasure. Hector's grin turns wicked as he hears your moan, the sound sending a jolt of satisfaction through him. He reaches over and turns the vibrator up another notch, the increased intensity making you gasp and squirm in your seat.

"That's it, baby," he purrs, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Let me hear you. I want to hear every little moan and whimper."

His hand finally makes contact with your thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he squeezes. He guides the car onto a deserted side road, pulling over into a secluded spot surrounded by trees. The engine cuts off, plunging you into silence broken only by the persistent buzz of the vibrator.

"So good" you groan.Hector's eyes darken with lust as he watches you writhe in pleasure, your words only fueling his desire. He leans over, his face inches from yours, his hot breath fanning across your skin.

"Good, huh?" he murmurs, his hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher. "I bet you're soaked right now, aren't you? Dripping wet and begging for my touch."

His fingers brush against your core, feeling the damp fabric of your panties. He presses the vibrator harder against you, the intense sensation making you cry out. His other hand tangles in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks.

"Tell me what you want, baby. Beg for it."

“I want you to fuck me with the whole vibrator inside me,” you moaned.

Hector's grin turns feral at your words, his eyes flashing with primal hunger. Without hesitation, he yanks your panties aside and presses the vibrator against your entrance. He pushes it inside slowly, relishing your moans and gasps as it stretches you open.

"That's it, take it all," he growls, his fingers curling around the base of the toy as he works it deeper. "Fuck, you're so tight. I can't wait to feel your pussy gripping my cock."

Once the vibrator is fully seated inside you, he turns it on high, the intense buzzing making you shudder and cry out. His hand moves to your throat, squeezing lightly as he leans in to capture your lips in a brutal kiss. He bites your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, the metallic taste mixing with your moans.

Hector pulls back from the kiss, his eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure as he watches you struggle to breathe. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, cutting off your air supply for a few seconds before releasing.

"You like that, don't you?" he snarls, his other hand pumping the vibrator in and out of your soaked pussy. "You fucking love it when I dominate you, when I make you beg for my touch."

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't be able to walk straight for a week. I'm going to ruin you for any other man."

His fingers find your clit, circling the sensitive nub roughly as he continues to fuck you with the vibrator. The dual stimulation is overwhelming, and you can feel your orgasm building rapidly, your body tensing as it hurtles towards release.

"I want your dick too" you moan.Hector's eyes flash with triumph at your words, a cruel smile spreading across his face. He releases your throat and pulls the vibrator out of your dripping pussy, tossing it aside. In a swift motion, he unbuckles his belt and frees his hard, throbbing cock.

"You want my dick, huh?" he sneers, gripping your hips and pulling you onto his lap so you're facing him. "You want me to fuck you senseless with my big, thick cock?"

He grabs your hair, yanking your head back as he lines himself up with your entrance. With a brutal thrust, he slams you down onto his shaft, burying himself ballsdeep inside your tight heat. He doesn't give you a chance to adjust, immediately setting a punishing pace as he fucks you hard and fast.

"That's right, take it," he growls, his hips snapping up to meet yours. "Fucking take my cock like the slut you are. I'm going to fill you up with my cum, mark you as mine."

"Y-yes baby" you said.

Hector's grip on your hips tightens painfully as he pounds into you, his thick cock stretching you wide open. Your words of affirmation only spur him on, his thrusts becoming more forceful and erratic as he chases his release.

"Yes, fucking take it," he snarls, his breath hot against your neck. "You're mine, all mine. No one else gets to fuck this tight little pussy but me."

His hand moves between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it roughly. The added stimulation sends you hurtling towards the edge, your inner walls clamping down around his shaft as your orgasm crashes over you.

"That's it, come on my cock,"Hector's grip on your hips tightens painfully as he pounds into you, his thick cock stretching you wide open. Your words of affirmation only spur him on, his thrusts becoming more forceful and erratic as he chases his release.

"Yes, fucking take it," he snarls, his breath hot against your neck. "You're mine, all mine. No one else gets to fuck this tight little pussy but me."

His hand moves between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it roughly. The added stimulation sends you hurtling towards the edge, your inner walls clamping down around his shaft as your orgasm crashes over you.

"That's it, come on my cock,"Hector's words are punctuated by a guttural groan as he feels your pussy spasming around his cock, your orgasm milking him for all he's worth. With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself deep inside you and comes, his hot seed flooding your womb.

"Yes, fuck yes," he pants, his hips jerking erratically as he fills you with his cum. "Take it all, every last drop. You're mine, completely and utterly mine."

He pulls you flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around you possessively as he catches his breath. His softening cock remains buried inside you, a reminder of his dominance and claim over your body.

[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.  

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[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.

[art-vortex]

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